Disclaimer: If it looks like Tolkien's, it probably is.

A/N: Well, I've passed the two-year mark with this story, which is a lot longer than I first naively thought when I began writing fanfiction all those years ago (all of two, that is). It's all very exciting. In other news, I'm sure somebody's going to want to yell at me about the structure of Meduseld discussed below, so I might as well talk about it. Peter Jackson's Meduseld is small. There's just not that much space, and definitely not enough for a King's court. I know Viking warriors didn't have giant castles. But from reading Beowulf, I know that in order to make up for the smallness, there were a whole bunch of small buildings surrounding the hall where people actually slept. I feel like the Rohirrim would be a bit cooler than that (i.e. not wanting to have to travel outdoors just to go to sleep), so the buildings are long, positioned on either side of Meduseld, and connected to it by covered/enclosed walkways. These buildings are the North and South Wings (so named because they're north and south of Meduseld; yes, very original, I know). Tolkien doesn't give me anything, so I went with Jackson's portrayal and assumed that Meduseld is aligned with the mountain range (kind of), or roughly east-west (or southeast-northwest, to accurately match the maps). I like the idea of Meduseld facing east (so that when you open the doors you're facing the rising sun), so east it is.

As if to make up for all the strife of the outgoing ride, our homeward journey was incredibly uneventful. Nothing came to bother us, we didn't bother any Drúedain, and we made pretty decent time. Honestly the most trying bit for me was saying goodbye to the girls, who were staying in the Houses of Healing until their parents came to the city at month's end.

The only difference besides speed was who exactly made up our train. No company had escaped unscathed, so there were far less soldiers returning than had left. But there were two new additions: Elves (although apparently they were technically Peredhil, whatever that was), twins, with dark hair and handsome features. They were Aragorn's foster-brothers, and were traveling with us in order to meet Aragorn's visitors. (My suspicion turned into a definite guess as to the identity—and race—of Aragorn's future wife.)

Éowyn's parting with Faramir had been tearful and warm. Granted, it would have been a heck of a lot warmer still if Éomer hadn't been glaring down their necks the whole time and insistently ignoring any questions of personal space or privacy. Good thing that Théodred had agreed to give them ten minutes alone the night before to say their real goodbyes. Watching Éomer in full big-brother protective mode, I couldn't help but wonder idly about what Théodred had said to Sodred to make him back off. Perhaps he ought to have a similar conversation with Éomer…

Once we entered the Riddermark proper and left the trees behind us, Théodred often halted the procession so that he could go visit local Eastfold villages. He would lead small parties of nobles and soldiers alike to what seemed an innumerable amount of homesteads and villages. I was always a part of the group, as was Éomer. It turned out that Éomer was something of an expert on Eastfold. He knew the land even better than Théodred, and what was more, he seemed to know the names of everyone we met as well.

After the fourth day of such expeditions, I expressed my admiration to Éomer.

He grinned broadly. "I was born and raised in Eastfold," he told me, as if that explained everything. Seeing my incomprehension, he added, "I love it. You have your big plains out west, and, well, it's nice and all, but here, with the hills and the orchards and all that—" sweeping his arm out grandly—"this is truly beautiful country, in my opinion. I could gladly stay here always."

I couldn't help myself and looked at him encouragingly. Théodred and I both wanted Éomer to become East Marshal, head of the guard of the eastern borders and governor of Eastfold; the only problem was that the natural seat of Marshal would be Aldburg. I wasn't sure if either he or his sister had ever visited Aldburg since their parents' deaths.

Éomer glared at me. "Don't, Saffi—I know what you're going to say."

I grinned a little guiltily and tried to turn the conversation back towards him. "Then you are considering it."

"I could build my own homestead, you know," he said stubbornly.

"Right."

"I'm sure I could find builders to add annexes for my Riders."

"Uh huh."

"So really I wouldn't have to live anywhere near there."

"Near where?" I asked innocently.

His glare deepened. "I don't want to live in Aldburg!"

"No one said you had to."

"Lady Saffi…" He was upset with me; he never used formal address otherwise.

Enough with this. Mai drew up to a halt and Firefoot, ever the gentleman when ladies were nearby, immediately did the same. "Listen, Éomer," I said, jabbing my finger at him for emphasis, "we both know that you're the right person for the job. Personally I could care less where you live. Now you must admit that both history and job convenience point towards one exact location. But that being said, the two aren't one and the same! The eastern border is long!"

He stared at the ground, not really paying attention to it. After a while I got tired of staring at him and shifted my gaze to the tree line we'd been approaching.

"My lady, I need…" He paused for a moment as if searching for the right word. "I need time. I most likely—I could live there, possibly. But—I am used, it is true, to living in Edoras, in Meduseld, with my cousin…"

Oh… I felt rather stupid for not seeing it sooner. Not only was Aldburg the place where he'd learnt of his father's death and the site of his mother's, coming so soon after, but if he moved there, it would mean living completely alone without any family for the first time in his life. Not even Éowyn would be there, not permanently. Éomer was going to be lonely, simple as that.

I felt an inane bubble of laughter rising up within me. "You, um, don't have to move in right away," I said at last rather awkwardly, having finally gotten my voice under control. "After all, reordering military structure will be hard enough without having, er, base camp moved out, too. So there's no need to rush things…"

"You have a fair point," Éomer said in a rather warmer tone than before. "A fair point indeed."

He accepted the post shortly after we got back to camp. In the interests of honesty I must confess that my smile might have been rather smug.

A few days later, we rode into the valley of Harrowdale and up the steep switchback path to Dunharrow. There were a few moments on the way up when I honestly thought Mai was going to throw me, I was so twitchy and nervous. It was hard to believe that for nearly two whole months I hadn't even been in the Riddermark, let alone seen my best friend. I'd never been separated from anyone I knew for such a long time before, not even Théodred…

And then we reached the top, and Théodred was grinning and handing me down—taking care, of course, to hold on to me rather longer than was necessary (not that I minded). Captain Wilfrid stepped forward and made his report to Théodred.

Standing right behind him was a very familiar face indeed. I grinned.

Elise grinned back; she looked like she wanted to say something, but obviously we couldn't have a loud reunion while official proceedings were still going on.

Or could we? I glanced over at Théodred. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I myself would like to hear a report on the state of refugees themselves," I excused myself. Captain Wilfrid bowed and nodded compliantly, his face not at all letting on how he felt about matters; somebody in Elise's direction let out a sound much like a laugh being choked back at the last minute.

And then there we were, my best friend and I, reunited at last. Except…

"My lady," Elise said and swept into the most dignified curtsy I'd ever seen.

I stared at her in horror.

She started laughing. "Oh my goodness, Saffi! The look on your face!"

I found my voice. "You curtsied! To me!"

"Take care, Saffi; you'll be shouting soon," she said primly.

"You curtsied!" My voice cracked, and I had to bite my lip and look away before I did something really bad.

Elise kindly ignored this and said in a normal tone of voice, "Do I have a lot to tell you! And you're really going to have to get used to all that curtsying business given your intended."

I grinned a little foolishly at the thought. "So: your report?"

She sighed, and the brightness in her eyes faded a bit. "Walk with me, Saffi. We have much to discuss…"

We went down past the hall and into the uppermost caves that still housed those families who had no home to which to return. There were women, some older, many my age or thereabouts—all the wives or would-be (would have been?) wives of soldiers—and their children. There were not many boys over a certain age. Elise told me that such young men had either went off to war or had accepted offers of temporary work rebuilding farms in the north or west.

Some families, the larger ones, had already left on the wagon trains back to Wold, but others, those with smaller children, had not the manpower to rebuild and protect themselves. They thus waited here in the camps, alone, frightened, in mourning, and with no place and no one to turn to.

And then there was me.

Elise didn't do things like this for no reason: she was very specifically having me meet all these people, more people than I could possibly ever remember. –My people. They would be my people, sworn to me by dint of my husband, and as such I had a duty to take care of them.

I was starting to realize that, once again, I was in way over my head.

However much I tried, I couldn't get to sleep. Finally I gave up and just put on my boots, ready to tramp around outside for as long as it took to tire me out.

After an hour, I was a bit chilled but still very much awake. What was I going to do? –No, what were we going to do? Was there some sort of business that the women could work on? What about their children? And what about the children who had no one to look after them?

"Saffi?"

I jumped. "Théo? What are you doing out here?"

He put an arm round my waist companionably and steered me away from the walls so we could walk easily. I instantly felt warmer. "I could ask the same of you, love. You met with the refugees, didn't you?"

"Yes." I leaned my head against his chest and stared into the darkness ahead a bit wretchedly. "And they were all looking at me, and trying not to hope, and yet hoping all the same that I could do something for them! And I—" I waved an arm about helplessly. "I dunno."

Théodred kissed the top of my head and drew me closer. "What do you think they need? short-term only."

I considered this. "Well, they need a place to stay. Obviously not here. Maybe in Edoras?"

He nodded slowly. "All together, or rehousing them?"

"Well, all together? At least at first, so that someone's there to look after the orphans. Perhaps—" I shook my head a little blearily and tried to think straight.

"We could hire some of the war widows to run the place."

"So the money would be coming out of our coffers. That's fine for us, but I don't know if they would, er, feel entirely comfortable depending on the king so heavily. – Not after the first year, I mean." I looked up at him to see what he'd think.

"We can think about work for them later; we'll have time," Théodred mused. "In fact, we could help them chose their own trades."

It was a good plan, and the fact that we now had one, even if just a rough outline, helped settle me. We strolled along for a bit longer, and I began to wake up a bit. "Théo, not that I'm not glad you're here, but why are you up?"

"Well, I was actually coming to get you."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "Why?" I asked suspiciously.

He only grinned more widely and said airily, "Your brother," as if that answered everything.

I glared.

As Théo gestured me onward again, I finally paid enough attention to our surroundings to realize that we were heading back through camp, back towards the Pavilion, no less. "What do you think your brother wants to do now that he's reunited with Anwyn?"

"Oh! – Wait, now?"

"Yes. He's very eager, your brother is."

"But—what about the wedding feast, and the song, and, and everything?" I asked, a bit bewildered.

Théodred shook his head assuredly. "Technically all a couple has to do is affirm their vows in front of their liege lord with one witness. Usually said lord is the village headman or a Knight, but since Sodred is the headman, he needs someone else to officiate. And you cannot deny that I am in fact his liege."

We stopped outside the tent. "But then who officiates at our ceremony?"

Théodred gave me a burning look that made me flush. Then he coughed and said more normally, taking care to look straight ahead, "No one, technically. We make our vows in front of all the lords and knights and Riders and traders and everyone else who lives in Edoras—as well as everyone else who can come—in front of our people. Now, shall we?"

It was the shortest wedding ceremony I've seen in my entire life. But somehow, in less than twenty minutes, my brother and his now-wife had pledged their vows in front of none less than the King of the Mark himself, with Guards and Queen-intended as witness. Fast, yes, but also entirely legal. Sodred was married, and Béma help anyone who would deny it.

Any doubts I might have had were staunched when I caught sight of Anwyn's face. She looked as though rainbows and butterflies might suddenly pop into existence all around her. Sodred was much the same—his beaming smile was so huge that I kept half-checking around for resulting sparkles or resplendent rays of light or something.

Théodred presided with a lot more merriment than my father ever had—though it was no less solemn for all that—and cut straight to the vows. As my brother pledged to love, honor, and protect Anwyn for as long as he lived, I couldn't help but grin a bit unsteadily. It must be the smoke from the torches that was making my eyes water, I decided. Definitely the smoke…

Théo walked me back to my tent after the ceremony. I clung to his arm, a bit dizzy from the combined effects of sleepiness and his nearness. When we finally reached it, though, he balked at actually entering. This confused me.

"I'm glad you have such a high opinion of my self-control, dear," he finally whispered, "but I think it best not to test it."

If I was more awake I probably would have blushed. As it was, I grinned widely. "Who said I wanted you to have self-control?" Then I stood on tiptoe, wrapped my arms round his neck, and kissed him thoroughly. It was very hard to stop, but at the last minute I managed to do so (aided by a rather pressing need to breathe).

Even in the dark I could see his shocked expression: eyes wide and mouth actually hanging open a little. "Sweet dreams," I said warmly.

Théodred opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no sounds came out. At length he rubbed his face and managed to come up with, "Uh, yes, um, sleep, uh, well. Um. Uh. Yes."

The next day we rode in to Edoras at a leisurely pace. When we stopped at the bottom of the mountain for a light luncheon, I realized that my hands were shaking.

I was terrified.

"I'm not ready for this," I confided to Mai. She snorted as if to say, Is anyone?

"M'lady, are you well?" Éothain was watching me worriedly.

"I'm fine, Captain. Thanks for your concern, though." I gave him a shaky smile.

He stood nearby for a moment. Then he said quietly, "At least you have people who will welcome you with open arms."

I sighed. "I would hope that our fellow Eorlingas are more appreciative of their Riders than you seem to believe."

He smiled crookedly. "I hope so, too." He shifted on his feet rather uneasily. Then he said abruptly, "How is your friend doing?"

I whirled round on him a tad exultantly. "You like her, don't you?"

He actually jumped. "What?"

"You're asking about Elise, right? You like her."

Éothain pressed his lips together and looked away. At last he said softly, "It doesn't really matter, though, does it?"

"What on Arda are you talking about?"

He shrugged. "Lady Saffi, I try to keep my expectations in life … realistic."

I winced. "So you're not going to, um, pursue your best interests?"

"Lady, don't. Please." He looked at me beseechingly. And I realized that he didn't think it'd be in her best interests.

I couldn't continue, not when he looked so wretched. And not when I had no real answer to give. "Sorry, Captain," I finally settled on. "It won't happen again."

Éothain shrugged. "Don't be. At least you're nice about it." Under his breath he added, "I'm not exactly looking forward to what Mother has to say about it…"

I grimaced in sympathy. But as we remounted in preparation for the final stretch up the mountain, I couldn't help but wonder whether Elise would feel the same way.

My preoccupation with Éothain's quandary served to distract me from my own less important worries; when Edoras finally came into sight, I hadn't had to time to work myself up into a proper dither. So I was able to look at things clearly. It was dirty, and a bit empty, but—

"Saffi?" I looked up at Théodred. He looked oddly nervous. "Do you—is it—" he fumbled for the right words.

"I think I can be happy here," I said honestly. It wasn't exactly reassuring, I knew. "It needs work, sure, but I think…"

"Yes?"

I blushed under his close scrutiny. "I, well, I, I think I might be looking forward to that." And even as the words came out, I realized they were absolutely true.

For a moment, I thought he might actually pull me off Mai and kiss me (and maybe more) right there in the middle of town. Worse, part of me actually wanted him to do it.

Meduseld was gorgeous. I stared and stared and then stared some more before the procession continued on to the stables. We had ridden up into the central courtyard first; when I asked why, Théodred actually turned a faint shade of pink, and Éomer grinned a little wickedly. At last Éowyn leaned over and told me in a low voice that the only reason we passed through the front courtyard was because Théodred had wanted me to get the best possible first view of my future home.

The stables were impressive—large, airy, and spacious—truly worthy of a king. Théodred showed me Mai's new stall and took me through a side passage to the main building.

We emerged in a large passage that (I learned later) connected both wings to the main Hall. "I'll give you a proper tour," Théodred promised. "But there's someone I want you to meet first." He took me down a labyrinth of corridors; many were dark and poorly-lit, further confusing my sense of direction. "Théo, where are we going?" I finally asked, his hand still tight around mine.

"Ah, here we are!" He pulled me through a small doorway.

The room was huge and bright and busy. Women of all ages bustled about, tending spits on huge fires, chopping and slicing at long tables, stacking platters with food. One woman who looked to be a few years older than Ama stood straight and confident, overseeing all with a practiced gaze. She looked small but strong.

"Saffi," Théodred said brightly, "meet our housekeeper." The look on his face spoke volumes: this woman meant a lot more to him than just keeping house; if anything, I would have called her his grandmother. She turned our way, caught sight of Théo, and bustled straight over, beaming hugely.

"Hildmar, I'd like you to meet Saffi, my future wife." His chest puffed out a little on "wife."

She looked at me closely. I tugged free of Théodred's grasp in order to give her a proper curtsy. This seemed to confuse her, but she recovered quickly and gave me a dip of her own.

Then she rounded on Théodred. After giving him a huge hug, which he returned enthusiastically, she started questioning him while I pretended to not be there.

"Who is her father? How long have you known her? Does Éowyn know? Oh, dear, she's not one of those nits from up north, is she?"

He blushed. I fought back a grin. This sounded like a story worth hearing, even if for no other reason than to him try to worm his way out of telling. "No. Not at all, Hildmar," he responded hastily. "And anyway, Lady Sorenna is from Westfold." Because obviously that detail made all the difference.

"I've never heard of him." I blinked. Suddenly she had pulled away and was eyeing him closely, worriedly. "Did you meet her the usual way?"

And then he was somehow taller than usual, and looking incredibly fierce and rather dangerous. I blinked again, not entirely sure what had just happened to effect such a transformation. There aren't any orcs nearby or something, right? Clearly I was missing just a wee bit of backstory.

It was a credit to Hildmar that she did not quail at all under Théo's glare, although she did take half a step back.

"No," Théodred hissed and then somehow managed to yank us both into a side room where others couldn't overhear.

Once inside, he spat out, "I know what you're thinking, Hildmar, and this isn't like that at all. You do great insult to your future Queen."

I looked between them uncertainly. Should I interfere?

"Well, given your track record I certainly had to check," she snapped back, although her eyes were still concerned. "I know what goes on in these halls."

"So you know that I have always been responsible about that sort of thing."

"She's quite a lot younger than you."

And I so did not want to find out where this was heading. "Has this got anything to do with the way he was hitting on me when we first met?" I interrupted brightly.

They both stopped and turned to glare at me. "What?" I asked rather innocently.

"Saffi…" Théodred said a bit pleadingly.

Hildmar rubbed her forehead and said, "Théodred has always been … generous with his favors."

I hastily turned my chuckle into a cough. "Does he have any children?"

That took her aback. "Of course not!" she said, looking rather affronted at the thought. "He always was a responsible lad," she added with a touch of pride.

"Well, then," I said briskly, "what's done is done. I know you have no reason to believe me, Mistress, but—" I glanced over at Théodred to see how he was doing. He was wearing a very strange look.

I turned back to Hildmar. She had a strange look on her face, too. I bit my lip and went on. "You said that he's always been responsible. So, just maybe, he's still responsible now. So could you at least give him the benefit of the doubt? Cast whatever aspersions on my character you want, but don't do it to him!"

I waited. The small room remained silent. Hildmar was giving me a long, searching look. I tried to stay strong.

Then Théodred said a little thickly, "Please excuse us, Hildmar," neatly stepped right around her, and then scooped me into his arms. For a moment I thought about trying to stop him, but instead of kissing me like I had thought, he just held me close, head bowed slightly and eyes closed. I wrapped my arms around his waist tightly and leaned in.

When he finally let go, my head felt a little fuzzy; I had no idea how long we'd been standing there. Hildmar was no longer with us. When did she leave? I wondered vaguely.

"Saffi," Théo said at last, arms still loosely around me, "She was right, you know."

"What?" I was very confused.

"Hildmar," he said slowly, as if explaining things to a child. "Everything she said about me was true."

I thought at first that I was trembling. Then, after a moment's consideration, I realized he was. His voice was slightly choked, and the expression on his face was one of extreme fear and guilt. "I'm an ass, Saffi!" he went on. "I was trying to get you to sleep with me just like all those other girls, not because I even thought you were especially pretty or anything but just because I was horny and thought it would be fun! and what if the person you're in love with doesn't actually exist?"

I pulled out of his arms unthinkingly and stared at him. He really meant it. Béma help us, he meant it.

"You didn't think I couldn't figure out what you were up to when we first met?" I asked quietly. "You think I fell in love with the ideal older man who happened to be rich and powerful because, hey, that's every girl's fantasy, right? Do you really think so little of me?"

He froze at that, his eyes all round and panicky. If the situation were any less tense I would have found it hilarious. As it was, I couldn't decide if I wanted to punch him or kiss him. Instead I turned and stared at the wall in an effort to calm down and figure out just WHAT ON ARDA I was supposed to DO in such an utterly CRAZY … oh, dear, now I was starting to panic; as a result, I almost missed what he muttered next:

"If we were already married, this is the point where I'd be sleeping on the floor for the next week, isn't it?"

I whirled round and stared at him.

Théo stared back rather guiltily. "Sorry."

"For what?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Well, I do know, but—so much. What I said just now, and everything mean I've said… For acting the way I did when we first met, for being—"

For being a jerk?

Béma help me, I almost said it. And then that little voice in my head that sounded suspiciously like Elise scolded, That's mean, Sorenna. True, but mean. The question is: how much do you want to hurt him?

I didn't.

So I kissed him instead. Because I love him, and it was what he needed. What we both needed.

Théodred and I didn't see much of each other for the next few weeks; the most we got were a few walks around the city Wall on the evenings he was home. He was busy traveling about the countryside, especially Wold, checking on crops and taking his Riders on rebuilding projects. I, on the other hand, stayed put (for the most part) in Edoras. We had to deal with the refugees, inform and then help out the war-widows and their families, and at least begin restoring Meduseld.

The Golden Hall was in a state of deep disrepair. Éowyn said grimly that although it had undergone surface cleaning when Wormtongue was ousted, there hadn't been a proper carpenter up from the city for several years, and the deeper layers of grime hadn't even been touched. Some of the cobwebs in the rooms at the end of the Wings looked like they had been there for at least a decade.

I learned all this on my second full day in Meduseld. Hildmar, although not overly welcoming, had offered to give me a tour. I asked if Éowyn could accompany us, and after a moment's consideration Hildmar had assented rather enigmatically, giving me a close look when she thought I couldn't see.

Early the next morning, after a quick breakfast in the Hall, Hildmar led us down the North Wing corridor, telling the uses for each room and pointing out places in need of special attention; this Wing looked out over the plains and thus served as quarters for the family and more important guests. Both wings were later additions to the main body of Meduseld, built by Frёawine King to house his growing Court. The King's Quarters were right off the Hall in Meduseld itself, but the rooms for family and private councils were in the North Wing. They were attached to the hall by enclosed stairways leading down just below the level of the Hall. In this way, Frёawine had extended the royal buildings without in any way obstructing the original structure of Meduseld. Both wings had two floors and then cellars (and tunnels) built into the mountain. Since Meduseld faced East, the wings were to the north and south of the building and had been named thus through years of practice.

As we went down the first-floor corridor, Éowyn began to draw steadily closer to us, her pace faltering. This end was lit only poorly, with dark furnishings and an icy draft; despite the approach of summer, up here on the mountaintop, the breezes stayed cold. I began to get a bad feeling about this, especially when she paused outside a small bedroom at the very end of the way.

Hildmar pursed her lips and moved closer to Éowyn's other side.

At last Éowyn said, "This was my room. – Not at first. He moved me down here. 'To keep me safe', it was," she added bitterly. "My brother and cousin got to stay, all the way back there." She jerked her head in the direction of the opposite end of the hallway.

"Should we go on?" I asked quietly.

She shook her head mutely. Hildmar and I waited, tense and worried. Then she reached forward stiffly and pushed open the door.

Whatever I had been expecting, this was not it. The room was huge. I looked around for torch sconces and found none but two at the very far end othe chamber. They would have cast only a small circle of light around the far end of the bed. My overall impression was of dark and damp—and a certain lack of exits…

Éowyn took a few steps forward and stopped. Then she stepped back out, closed the door with a bit more force than absolutely necessary, and said in a perfectly steady voice, "When we clean, that bed should be burnt. It's beyond repair, I think."

The end of the wing opened onto a bright multi-level yard sloping upwards back towards Meduseld proper. The uppermost level was similar to that ornamental garden of the Houses of the Healing back in Minas Tirith, the one in which Éowyn and Faramir had spent so much time. On the lower levels, next to what Hildmar said was an entrance to the kitchens, was an herb and vegetable garden. It looked healthier than the pleasure garden, but that wasn't saying much; both were bedraggled and neglected.

We went on around the edge of the garden. The far western end had a low wall with seats cut into it; near the southern corner was a small gate with a path leading down toward the city below. It was a nice view.

The South Wing held more Guest Quarters as well as rooms for Lords and the King's Advisers. There were also storerooms for cloths and foodstuffs. "The Wings are mostly residential," Hildmar told me. "The kitchens are in Meduseld, and the servants and Guard sleep in the rooms in Meduseld, the ones around the sides of the Hall."

We went out the front entrance into the courtyard I'd first seen, formed by the front extensions of the Wings and the steps leading up to the front entrance.

"As you know," Éowyn said with a slight smirk, "the stables are around the right on the south side. Those buildings next to it are the Riders' quarters."

I had wondered about them. "Why have additional quarters?"

"If extra éoreds are stationed in the city, or are even just passing through, and don't have someone to stay with, they go to the official quarters here. That way there's no need for forced quartering, and the Riders aren't forced to stay in camps," Éowyn told me. "I told Faramir about this, and I think he wants to set up something similar for his Rangers in Ithilien. I'll have to remember to show him…"

I grinned. For a moment, I caught a flash of teeth from Hildmar, and I had the sudden feeling that she had reacted the exact same way.

Hildmar and I reached a definite truce at the end of my first week after an incident with some drunken carpenters. I tended to be hastier than her, but our instincts in managing the household were much the same, so, aside from her continued suspicion and my own unease, we actually got along rather well. We developed a schedule: we would meet in the mornings and go over our plans for the day; then we would meet again in the evening, about an hour or so before supper, and discuss our successes (or lack thereof). And indeed there was much to discuss: food distribution and possible rationing (it is us two, after all, who have control over the royal Stores), the project of the orphanage (which required some tutelage in the bureaucracy of moving funds), and of course how Meduseld's renovations were progressing. Carpenters were called in for the big jobs, but our own staff had its work cut out: cleaning, refurbishing, and sometimes simply gutting out long-distended rooms, especially those at the far ends and upper floors of the wings, where people rarely ventured (especially during Wormtongue's later years). Hildmar's face was unreadable when she found me scrubbing floors alongside the maids. I knew it was most undignified for a Queen, but I wasn't a Queen yet, and this action simultaneously endeared me to the workers and allowed me to get to know them personally before our stations yawned too far apart. Not to mention that although we'd managed to hire a few more maids, we still were shortstaffed, and since I knew the work, it only made sense for me to pitch in.

Much less enjoyable was the task of visiting the homes of fallen Riders to officially tell their wives and families. They already knew, of course, but Hildmar had agreed that it would be better to visit them myself as well. She helped me put together baskets of food and goods that would at least get them through the funeral and weeks immediately following, and we planned on further visits throughout the summer and fall to ensure they would make it through the winter.

Elise worked with me, but just as often as not she was busy with duties of her own; nevertheless we both made time for walks through the city. We wandered about the first few days, not really worrying about getting lost, for we kept to the populated parts and had no fear of asking our way from residents. After the first week we changed tactics and started trying to get lost on purpose, avoiding the Rider quarter (so named because it held the homes of many Riders of the Guard and Wold éoreds) and going to the Merchants quarter or following the sounds of blacksmithing. I began to get to know my new home, and what I saw pleased me: the daily improvement as more families began making their way back and businesses reopened, but also the people themselves.

No, that was a lie—I was falling in love with Edoras even then. Perhaps, I remember thinking one evening as Elise and I wended our tired way back up to Meduseld, it will become a home even faster than Théodred could hope for.

Then, somehow, the North Wing was finally finished—floors, walls, and ceilings newly scrubbed clean of dirt and soot; new torches freshly lit; and guest quarters restored (complete with new bedding, blankets of the highest quality, and tapestries cleaned and re-embroidered). We had even burnt Éowyn's bed; after dragging it out to the courtyard and piling it with what few things of Wormtongue's survived, Théodred covered it with oil, Éomer lit the torch, and Éowyn had tossed the torch wearing a look of utter satisfaction.

Now Hildmar and I both stood in the middle of hallway for a while, staring in awe at how pretty everything looked. "Now if we can just finish repatching the roof…" I muttered.

She turned and realized I was doing the same thing as her. "Lady," she said at last, a hint of amusement in her eyes, "it's going as well as can be expected."

"I know," I sighed. "I'm just worried that we won't be finished with the restorations when the Elves come."

She pursed her lips. "If we're not good enough for them, their loss. Don't you go throwin' yourself about just on some magical folks' account."

I held back a smile. "If you say so, Mistress Hildmar."

She paused mid-step and turned back round to face me. "Lady, this whole 'Mistress' business is getting a bit old. You're not going to win any points with me doing that. So stop it and just call me Hildmar." And with a muttered "hmph" she was on her way.

I couldn't help but openly grin this time.

Two nights later, Théodred and I did not go for our usual walk round the defensive Wall of Edoras; instead we went down to Hildmar's office. I snuck a glance at him as we walked; his relationship with her was still a bit stiff, especially around me.

"My Riders and I will go north tomorrow, along with Lord Elrohir and Lord Elladan, regardless of Meduseld's status," he said at last, not looking entirely happy about such a fact; "I just wanted to see how things are going, so as what to expect when we get back."

I looked at Hildmar. Hildmar looked at me. "Actually, things are progressing rather nicely," I told him. "All the immediate repairs are done, and things like re-thatching the roof can wait. – Er, Hildmar, you know more about the household particulars than I."

She took the hint. "The North Wing is finished completely, and a good portion of the South Wing is completed as well, so there'll be more than enough guest space, although personal quarters for the family, Guard, and servants, as well as some of the Advisers, are still a bit cramped."

Théodred looked at her closely. "You can leave the King's chambers till later. But what about the Queen's? Haven't you started on those yet? The East Wing can wait."

Hildmar looked a little embarrassed. "That's not her fault," I stepped in. "I ordered her to take care of the rest of Meduseld first. And you're going to need those meeting rooms. The work rooms were easy enough to restore, and this way you can have private sessions with your advisors as necessary."

He sighed. "If you say so, love."

For a moment I could have sworn there was a smile on Hildmar's face, but then it vanished so quickly I thought I must have just imagined it. Instead she said, wearing a strangely respectful look on her face, "My lord, is there anything else you wish us to do?"

Théodred blinked. "No, you've done very well, both of you. Well, I guess there's nothing more to be done here. Thank you, Hildmar." Then he stood and stepped around the table. "Thank you."

Hildmar took his hands tentatively. "Oh, my dear boy…" Théodred smiled back warmly, and I stepped out of the office to give them some much-needed time together.

Théo and his Guards departed in a flurry of Official Outfits and last-minute instructions for their return. A few of the younger maids (i.e. my age) sighed a little heavily at the absence of the two Elf lords. Elise made a comical swooning-face at me, which gave me a fit of giggles. Hildmar, who had happened to catch our exchange, did not laugh, although she did conveniently develop a rather suspiciously timed cough.

Sodred joined me for luncheon with news of his own. Apparently Alricsloft was not only completely repaired, but Sodred's own house (the new Headman's seat, and built rather differently than Father's old one) was nearing completion. This, combined with Sodred's release from the Riders (and the official appointment as Western Ambassador), meant that he could finally go home and, more importantly, begin married life with Anwyn in earnest.

I had just managed to stop giggling helplessly when he appeared at my side, bouncing with excitement. A few giggles returned at the sight of my King's Western Ambassador doing a spot-on impression of an eager puppy.

"Saffi, guess what?" Sodred beamed.

"You've all been released?" I drawled in my best ignore-the-crazy-brother manner.

"Exactly! Saffi, we're going home!"

He said it with such exuberance, too. I blinked as I tried to translate Sodred-speak into a more normal tongue. "You and Anwyn are going back to, uh, Alricsloft?"

Sodred grimaced. "Sorry. I forgot about that; Edoras is your home now, isn't it?" He looked around the Hall and frowned briefly before turning back to me with a half-smile. "You've sure got your work cut out for you, sis."

I frowned back. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He chuckled. "Silly! Don't give me that look! You like it. You're going to love it, Saffi." He swept me up into another crushing bear-hug. A chuckling sound came from Hildmar's direction and then was hurriedly cut off.

I ignored it and hugged him tightly. "Be good now, Sodred. Don't go running into trouble."

"Oh, no, Saffi," he teased back, "that's your job."

And then very soon—too soon—Sodred and Ælfred and Anselm and all the rest were riding away, riding west back to Alricsloft without me. I didn't want to go back. I was happy here. And it wasn't like Sodred and I had even spent a heck of a lot of time together lately. So why did I suddenly feel so lonely?

I walked back inside, trying very hard not to get teary or anything, to find Elise waiting and watching me closely. "You're not wholly without family, Saffi," she said a bit tartly as we went down the stairs to the North Wing. "I've got a feeling you already have more friends here than you know."

I bit my lip. "And anyway, I guess I could likely see him before the end of the year."

She raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."

"If we're certain as can be that the Mark will be able to make it through the winter…" I muttered.

She winked. "A bit eager, are we?"

I sighed. "I know there isn't enough information yet, but…"

Elise nodded. "You're right: there isn't enough information yet, not to say conclusively. But, Saffi, looking at the reports," with a conspiratorial grin, "I'd at least start planning if I were you."