See part one for disclaimers and such.
Part 2
"My Lord, my Lord, runner from the plains!"
Éomer paused in mid-stride and turned to meet the young boy who served as a runner between the main gate of the city and the great hall.
"Catch your breath, Éothain," he said kindly, looking down at the small blonde boy who was struggling to speak even as his lungs heaved for air.
Éothain nodded, pleased that the Third Marshall had remembered his name. It took him several moments before his breathing had slowed enough that he could finally speak his message.
"My Lord, a runner has just arrived at the gate. There is a great party of elves riding towards Edoras. They are about a day's ride away," the young boy said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his bare and dirty arm.
Éomer nodded. This was not unexpected news, though he was surprised that Lord Celeborn had arrived so quickly.
"Are we to muster the riders?" Éothain asked eagerly, his eyes bright and hopeful.
He shook his head with a short laugh. "Nay, Éothain. They are welcome. Thank you for delivering your message." Éomer eyed the skinny boy for a moment. "Are you expected to return to the gates?" he asked.
Éothain shook his head, blonde hair flying. "Nay, my Lord. I am done for the day."
"Then go to the kitchen and see if the cooks can find you something to eat before you go home. But do not linger. I do not wish to have your mother worry if you are late returning from your duties," Éomer said with a kind smile.
"Yes, my Lord," Éothain replied with a grin that lit up his whole face. "Thank you."
Éomer watched the small boy scamper away and shook his head, chuckling softly. Ever since Éothain had arrived at Edoras with his younger sister with a message that their village was being attacked, he had felt an obligation to the boy and his fatherless family. He had made sure that his mother, Morwen, had a place to stay in the city, and had given Éothain the responsibility of carrying messages to and from the great gates. Though he was still quite skinny, he had filled out a little over the past few weeks - Éomer made sure he got a hot meal in the kitchen at least once whenever he was on duty.
He took the stone steps that led to the great doors two at a time, knowing he needed to deliver the news of Lord Celeborn's impending arrival with his army to the King.
Erin dried her face on the rough towel and hung it carefully beside the small basin of water she had used to wash her face. Her eyes felt sore from crying, and she knew if she looked in the mirror they would be red and her face would be pink and splotchy looking.
Despite knowing she probably looked a mess, she felt better. Crying had helped - the overwhelming gamut of emotions that she had been inundated with since the whole weird man/woman incident had been released with her tears, and she found herself thinking more clearly about her situation.
She was supposed to be here. The whole bit about her soul being born in the wrong world was a bit hard to take, but she accepted it, just as she had accepted that the man and woman had spoke through her to Éowyn. Once she accepted that, she realized the truth of their words to her - and why it was that she had always felt this sense of longing so deep within her, as if she was searching for something to complete her. School and friends had helped to fill the empty ache inside her, as had her relationship with her fiancé, though part of her realized that she had simply buried her longing, trying to keep herself occupied so she would not dwell on it. When her fiancé had betrayed her with another, the longing had returned with a vengeance, and with it, a steadily growing sense of helpless depression that she was unable to pull herself out of.
How Professor Taggit played into all of this was a mystery to her. If it had not been for his suggestion to go camping, Erin wondered if she would have ever come here, or if the Valar would have found another way.
Her parents were another issue entirely.
She missed them. God, how she missed them, and knowing that she would never see either of them made her throat close up in an aching, painful knot. There was no getting around it, and the sorrow she felt at losing them warred with her sense of completeness.
It wasn't fair that she couldn't have both.
Erin sat down on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and hugging them to her. She had her hearts truest desire: a place where she no longer felt the painful emptiness and longing for some unnamed need. She understood what that need was now - had a word for it that described it perfectly.
Home.
The price had been high, but if she was given the chance to make the choice again, Erin knew she would choose no differently. She could not go back to the way she had been before, especially not after knowing what it was she had been missing all her life.
The funny thing about it was that she had initially assumed that her decision to stay in this world had something to do with being in love - and while it had been on her mind at the time, it was not the deciding factor at all. She had definite feelings for certain individuals - she couldn't deny that any longer, but in the end, her feelings for them had played little part in her decision. And if she was going to be honest with herself, her feelings for them went little beyond basic physical attraction - she knew little of their strength of character, or even if they had any common ground to work with.
With a sigh, she stretched out on her bed and closed her eyes. I wouldn't mind finding out, though. She managed a faint smile at the thought, before sleep claimed her.
Éomer's golden eyebrows rose in surprise at his sister's suggestion.
"Take her with me?" he repeated, buckling the sword at his hip. "To meet Lord Celeborn's army?" He shook his head. "Why would she want to go?"
Éowyn folded her arms and looked up at her brother with impatience. "Because she spent time with the elves and perhaps seeing them again will bring her out of this strange mood that has taken her. And it would give you an opportunity to talk to her without her running away. She has locked herself in her room and has not come out. She tells me to come back later - she will not talk to me." She handed him his cloak and watched him fasten it with the golden horse shaped clip. "It is not a dangerous journey you are undertaking; surely it can be no hardship for you to take her."
"Aye, that is true," Éomer agreed with a brief smile. It would certainly be no hardship to spend some time with Erin, and perhaps have the opportunity to learn more about her. He carried the memory of their brief encounter at Helm's Deep with a sense of pleasure that surprised him, but he found it at odds with what Éowyn was telling him. The woman he had held in the alcove had not been the troubled creature his sister described. Finally he nodded his agreement.
"We are leaving soon. Send her to the stables as soon as she is ready," he said. "I will have Silhafel saddled for her." He watched his sister leave and shook his head. If he did not truly believe that his sister was worried about her friend, he would suspect her of matchmaking.
Erin heard the knock on her door and lifted her head.
"Who is it?" she called, rubbing her face with her hand, trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes.
"It is Éowyn. May I come in?"
With a sigh she felt to her toes, Erin rolled out of the bed and onto her feet. "Yes, come in."
The door opened and the lady of Rohan entered, closing the door behind her. A quick glance at Erin had her frowning.
"You cannot wear that," Éowyn said with a shake of her head. "You need to change quickly if you are to go with them."
"Go with who?" Erin followed her friend's progress as she rifled through the small bit of clothing in the chest at the foot of the bed. "What are you talking about?"
Éowyn held up a pair of russet colored breeches and a cream colored shirt. "This will do." She smiled up at her friend. "You are going with Éomer and the others to greet Lord Celeborn. They are two days ride from the city, and I thought you would like to see your friends again. I asked Éomer to take you."
Erin took a deep breath, her eyebrows rising in surprise. "You didn't have to do that, Éowyn," she said softly. "I could wait until they get here, though I am looking forward to seeing them again." She couldn't help but wonder if Rúmil and Orophin would be with Lord Celeborn, and she felt a brief surge of hopeful excitement at the thought of seeing them again.
The lady shook her head. "No, you should meet them," Éowyn said with a brief smile, seeing the look in her friend's eyes. "And I think it will do you good to get out of this room for a bit," she added softly, her smile fading.
Erin sighed. "I'm sorry, Éowyn. I went off the deep end there for a bit. I'm better now. I was going to come and find you when I woke from my nap." She took the clothing from her friend and set it carefully on the bed. "I'm ready to face the world again - and tell you what's going on."
Éowyn nodded, and her smile returned. "I am most glad to hear that, Erin. However, you can tell me everything when you get back." She picked up the clothing and thrust it into Erin's arms. "Hurry, my brother is waiting for you."
She dressed quickly, tossing her rumpled jeans and sweatshirt aside for the leggings and tunic Éowyn had picked out. She sat down on the bed and laced her boots, glancing up at her friend.
"Thank you for being patient with me," Erin said honestly. "I - I needed the time alone to think a bit."
"I know," Éowyn said with a nod. "I was not offended by your need for privacy. I have been worried." She watched Erin wrap her cloak around her shoulders and shook her head at the ragged condition of it, making a mental note that her friend desperately needed more clothing. "That was why I asked Éomer to take you with him."
Erin smiled faintly. "I don't understand."
Her friend gave her a measuring look. "Éomer is a good listener. Talk to him, Erin. Though you say you are ready to face the world again, I see the shadow of grief that lingers in your eyes." Éowyn reached out and took her hand with her own. "Let him help you."
The wind caught the edge of her cloak and whipped it behind her as she took the steps that led to the courtyard. Éomer met her halfway, nodding approvingly at her choice of clothing, and Erin silently thanked Éowyn for making her change.
"Thank you for taking me along," she said, feeling somewhat shy as she walked beside him.
"You are welcome," Éomer replied, glancing down at his small companion, struck again at how slight she was compared to his greater height. "I had Silhafel saddled for you."
Erin followed him down the gently sloping path to the stables. "I'm not much of a rider," she said when they reached the others. Seven other riders were already mounted, and a young groom held Éomer's horse and hers. "I'm more of a passenger."
Éomer took the reins of her horse from the groom and handed them to her. "Then that is something we shall have to remedy, is it not?" he said with a brief smile.
Strong hands covered her fingers, guiding them as he showed her how to bring the reins up around the horse's neck. He held her left hand at Silhafel's withers for a moment, and instructed her to put her left foot in the stirrup, facing the horse's hindquarters. At his direction, she gave a couple of experimental 'bounces' before trying to swing her right leg over the saddle and almost made it. His hands caught her before she lost her balance and boosted her the rest of the way up. She settled into the saddle, her cheeks flushed with her efforts and embarrassment.
Éomer patted Silhafel's neck, and gave Erin an encouraging smile. "You did not do badly, for a novice." He noted the positioning of her legs with approval. "Your placement is good, but keep your heels down." He placed his hand on the curve of her lower back, straightening her posture.
Erin felt her stomach flutter at his nearness; his casual touch sending her pulse racing, and she could feel the warmth of his hand linger even after he had removed it from her back.
He mounted his horse with fluid ease, settling into the saddle and turning his mount. "You ride beside me, lady," he said. "Squeeze your legs against Silhafel to get her to move forward. Let her know you are in control."
Nodding, she did as he instructed, and was delighted when the mare began to walk forward. "How do I steer?" she asked with a laugh.
The ride to meet the elves was filled with Éomer's patient instructions on how to guide her horse, how to keep her seat properly, and how to get the placid mare to follow her commands. When the sun had finally begun its descent into the distant horizon, Erin felt as if she had a much better grasp of riding, though she was still little more than a passenger.
Éomer called a halt for the night, and the others busied themselves with making camp, while he showed Erin how to remove Silhafel's tack. Thanks to Melaphríl's previous instructions, she had a pretty good grasp on grooming, and delighted in showing him that she knew how to brush and check the mare's feet for stones or other obstructions. Through it all, Silhafel remained patient, and Erin thanked the mare with an apple that Éomer had handed her.
Silhafel's mouth was soft, like living velvet as it moved over her palm, taking the proffered apple gently and crunching it between her large teeth, and Erin couldn't help but smile. She had always liked horses, but she'd never had any experience with them before her arrival in Middle Earth. The mare was content to stand quietly, letting her scratch and pet her soft nose, and as Erin talked to her, she noticed that the mare's black tipped ears would swivel forward, as if focusing on her.
Éomer watched Erin out of the corner of his eye as he sat next to the fire, listening to the men of his chosen group talk quietly amongst themselves as they ate their simple meal of dried meat and bread. He had set aside a portion for her, but did not wish to interrupt her time with the mare; the quiet time she spent simply talking and touching the mare helped to form the important bond a horse and rider needed. Silhafel needed to become accustomed to the sound of Erin's voice and her touch, and Erin needed to learn to pick up the non-verbal cues the mare gave her. It was something that every child in Rohan learned practically from infancy, but it was apparent that she had no such experience to fall back on.
He took a sip of his water, setting the canteen beside him, glancing across the fire once more. The scene made him smile; Erin was leaning against Silhafel's warm hide and talking to the mare as she cropped the grass nearby. He had done that himself countless times; there was something comforting about the warmth of their bodies, and in knowing that they were listening without judgment.
Darkness had begun to settle when he finally rose from his seat, making his way across the campsite.
"You should eat something," he said as he reached her side, reaching out to scratch Silhafel's withers. "Are you hungry?" He cast her a glance, silently admiring the way the light from the fire cast red highlights in her dark hair.
Erin looked up at him, still leaning against Silhafel's warm side, enjoying her horsey smell. "Yes," she admitted, stifling a sigh. The mare chose that moment to move away, seeking a lush patch of grass, and Erin was forced to step away. "She won't run off, will she?"
Éomer shook his head. "No. Our horses are trained not to wander. Come, I saved some food for you."
She dropped the brush and hoof pick beside the tack, and followed him towards the fire. The other men looked up and nodded politely as she passed them, and she gave them a brief smile in return, recognizing Halig and Gamling among them. She accepted the hard roll and piece of dried meat from Éomer, settling herself on the grass close to the fire. Wordlessly he handed her his canteen, and she thanked him, eyeing the meat with curiosity, wondering if she dared to ask what animal it had come from.
"Its deer meat," Éomer told her, catching her look. "It is quite good."
Erin took a tentative bite and chewed it, smiling at the flavor. It tasted a lot like beef jerky, though it was a bit stronger tasting. She didn't mind, though, and took another bite with more enthusiasm, watching Éomer as he rose and made the rounds with his men. His handsome face was serious and intent as he discussed one point or another with Halig and Gamling, their voices low, and she took the opportunity to observe him without his noticing.
He had been nothing but kind and courteous to her since the Grey Company had met with the men of Rohan, giving no indication that anything had passed between them previously. It was understandable, she thought with a small sigh. He probably kissed women on a regular basis, and it had obviously just been a spur of the moment type of thing with him. He had enjoyed it; that she had no doubt of, but it was becoming apparent to her that it hadn't lingered in his mind the way it had in hers.
The way he had held her so protectively when the winged shadow had threatened them, and the way he had comforted her when the orc had nearly killed her, had given her hope that perhaps he might possibly be interested in her - even just a little. Since then, however, he had given no outward sign of any interest, and she was beginning to think it was nothing more than a passing fantasy.
Éowyn had told her he was a good listener, but Erin wasn't used to talking about her feelings, and she wasn't sure she would be comfortable sharing them with someone she hardly knew. She would never have shared her feelings with Legolas if the elf hadn't pestered it out of her using his otherworldly wiles. She took another bite of meat and hid her smile; perhaps if Éomer used his handsome wiles on her…Erin snorted and nearly choked on her food.
She finished her meal, washing it down with the slightly warm water from the canteen, setting it beside her feet. She saw that all but Éomer and Halig were settling into their bedrolls for the evening, and decided that they had the right idea. The day felt like it had lasted about twice as long as a normal day, and she was more than tired, despite her brief nap in her room.
Was it only this morning that she had confronted Éowyn in the stables? It seemed like days ago. As she settled into her bedroll, trying without success to find a comfortable position on the hard ground, she found herself wondering how her friend was faring.
The news about Éowyn and Elladan had been a surprise, and she found herself envying her friend more than just a little. Of course, Éowyn didn't seem to have the hang-ups about relationships that she did, Erin thought ruefully. She supposed if she was ever going to find happiness in the love department, she was going to have to let herself take chances. Galadriel's words in the glade of the mirror came to her. Do not judge all men by the actions of one. Sound advice, she thought sleepily. I should heed it.
Silhafel followed Éomer's horse obediently, although Erin held the reins and occasionally nudged the mare in one particular direction or the other, just because she now knew she could. For the mare's part, she seemed very patient with Erin's sometimes confusing commands, the flickering of her ears the only indication of her annoyance when her rider's commands did not make sense.
The morning was warm, though the sky was overcast and silvery gray clouds hung heavy above the riders, and Erin found herself wishing she could shed her cloak at least. She wasn't comfortable enough with riding, however, to attempt to take it off while the horse was moving. She was afraid such a maneuver would end with her face down in the dirt while Silhafel looked at her with equine amusement.
Once again, Éomer had been kind enough to have the mare saddled for her, though he did have her watch the process, naming the bits of tack and demonstrating how it was properly fitted and adjusted so as not to cause rubbing or sores. He had held Silhafel's head while she mounted, and she had to admit she did it better this time. There's hope for me yet, she thought with a smile.
"It is good to see you smile, lady," Éomer remarked and she glanced up in surprise, not realizing he had dropped back to ride beside her. "You seem to be feeling better." He rode easily, his tall body swaying slightly with his horse's rocking gait. He held his helmet in front of him, his fingers curled around its edge, the white hairs of the tassel fluttering slightly in the gentle breeze.
Erin shrugged. "I guess I am. Yesterday wasn't such a good day." She gave him a brighter smile. "Today is better."
"Why was yesterday so terrible for you?" he asked quietly, moving his horse sideways in a clever move that she couldn't help but admire so that their horses were closer together. "Was it due to the departure of your friends?" he asked gently.
"Yes and no," she answered with another shrug, unsure how to explain things to him. "I hated to see them leave, but it wasn't that, really." She glanced forward for a moment, watching the rolling grass ahead of them wave in the breeze. "I think it's because I finally realized that I'm here to stay. I can't go back to my own land now, and it made me sad."
"Did you leave loved ones behind?" he asked, his brown eyes full of sympathy.
She nodded, looking back at him. "My parents. I'll miss the friends I made in school, but I miss my parents the most."
The rode in companionable silence for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice soft. "It is difficult to lose one's parents at any age."
Erin's eyes widened slightly. "You lost your parents?"
"When Éowyn and I were but children, our father was slain fighting orcs on the borders of Emyn Muil. Mother took ill shortly after his death and never recovered. When she passed, our uncle took us in and raised us as his own." Éomer gave her a sad smile. "He grieves still, I think, for his sister was as dear to him as my Éowyn is to me."
"Oh, Éomer, I'm sorry," Erin said. "How terrible that must have been for you both."
He nodded. "It was very hard," he admitted softly. "I still miss them."
Erin swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "At least I had both my parents growing up. I guess I should count myself lucky," she said, shaking her head.
Éomer gave her a real smile this time. "Lucky, indeed. But do not belittle your grief. You will always miss them, but the pain will ease as time passes."
His smile warmed her and she found herself looking away, studying the countryside they passed to hide the flush on her cheeks. Silence fell between them once more, but Erin was extremely aware of him as he rode beside her, the way his body moved as if it were merely an extension of the horse, the sound of his armor as it shifted with the subtle swaying of his body. She wanted to break the silence between them, but was at a loss for words.
Éomer stole glances at his companion, noticing the stiff way she rode and the way the wind played with the fine brown strands of her hair. Her quiet strength in the face of her loss moved him; he knew too well what it was like to suffer such a loss. Though her parents were not dead, apparently, they were just as lost to her. Too well could he understand how she felt. It was no puzzle to him, then, that Erin had not spoken to anyone for nearly a day. He only wish he understood more about her - where she came from, how it was that she could no longer return home.
"Will you tell me about your land?" he asked finally, shifting his grip on his helmet as he glanced at her.
Erin swatted at a bug that was flying around her head, giving him a wry grin in the process. "I will, though it's going to sound really strange to you." The bug that had been flying circles around her head apparently got tired of being swatted at and flew away, much to her relief. It didn't look like a bee, exactly, but it definitely had a mean and biting look about it that Erin didn't like. She adjusted her grip on Silhafel's reins and took a deep breath. "I'm not from Middle Earth at all," she began, when the mare let out a sudden squeal. Erin had time to think oh crap, before she was hanging on for dear life as her horse bolted.
Scenery flashed by her in a tan and green blur as Silhafel galloped across the plains, trying to escape whatever it was that had made her squeal. Erin felt her seat shift precariously and she clung to the saddle, loosing both reins in the process. She barely had time to register that the mare might step on them when Silhafel stumbled forward, and unceremoniously pitched Erin from her back and onto the hard ground.
The impact knocked the wind out of her, and for a moment, all Erin could do was struggle to catch her breath, her shoulder and recently bruised ribs throbbing from the fall. A shadow fell over her face, and she looked up.
"Hello, meldis," an amused voice said. "That was a most interesting dismount. Did you mean to do that?"
Her breath had finally returned and she let out a soft groan. "Hello, Orophin."
She was in pain, but it was nothing compared to the embarrassment of knowing that the entire contingent of elves had seen her ungraceful and sudden dismount. Her embarrassment only intensified as she realized that the seven Rohirrim, Éomer included, had seen it as well.
Orophin was helping her to rise when Éomer returned with Silhafel, leading the mare behind him. Lord Celeborn and the rest of the elves had stopped their horses and were looking down at the scene with barely contained amusement. Her irritation only increased when Orophin made a show of brushing the grass from her tunic, his gray eyes twinkling with mischief when his hands strayed to delicate areas. She smacked his hands away and turned to Éomer, her hands resting on her hips.
"What happened?" she demanded, giving her errant mount a glare.
Éomer's face was concerned, though she caught a brief flash of humor in his eyes. "I believe Silhafel was stung by the grass wasp you were swatting at. I did not have time to warn you before she took off. I am sorry I did not catch up to you before you fell." He dismounted fluidly, handing both sets of reins to Halig. "Are you all right? You are not hurt?"
"I'm fine," Erin said, glancing at Orophin, who had moved closer to her as Éomer approached. "Just bruised - both my body and my ego. I'll survive."
Éomer glanced curiously at the tall elf standing next to Erin, wondering at the almost protective posture the warrior held, before looking back at her. "You are certain you are uninjured?"
"I'm alright," she answered, turning to look at Celeborn. "Hello, Lord Celeborn. It's wonderful to see you again."
The Lord of Lothlórien gave her a small smile. "Mae Govannen, Erin Smith. I did not expect to see you here." He gave a soft chuckle. "I certainly did not expect to see you racing across the plains to greet us." He turned his attention to Éomer and inclined his head slightly, his hand touching his heart. "I give you greetings."
Éomer bowed politely in return. "Welcome and well met, Lord Celeborn. I am Éomer, son of Éomund. We are here to escort you to Edoras. I trust your journey was untroubled?"
Celeborn nodded. "It was indeed. We came across the burnt corpses of orcs yesterday, and I was sorrowful to see that there were men and elves among the fallen. Do you know aught of it?"
"Aye," Éomer replied, tucking his helmet under his arm. "We came across them as we returned from Isengard, and my men and the Grey Company slaughtered them to the last. Though we had losses, they were thankfully few."
"Ah," Celeborn inclined his head slightly. "How fare the men and elves of the Grey Company? What news can you give me of them?"
Éomer dropped his head, his expression one of regret. "Lord Aragorn has led the Grey Company to the Paths of the Dead. I fear we will never hear of them again, for no living man has passed that way and returned." He looked up and was surprised to see the elf lord smile.
"Do not be worried for them," Celeborn said gently. "It will be well."
"You must get back on the horse," Éomer said patiently. "Only then will you conquer your fear."
Erin eyed him and snorted. "Easy for you to say. You didn't just get dumped in the dirt."
He smiled, shaking his head. "I have fallen from a horse more than once, lady. Every rider among you has taken a tumble at one time or another. If you are going to learn how to ride, you must not let your fear overcome you. You must overcome it instead."
She sighed, shifting her weight from one foot to another, well aware that the others were waiting for her to get back on the horse so they could leave. "Can't I just ride behind someone else for now?" she asked hopefully.
Éomer frowned. "You expressed an interest in learning how to ride, lady. Do you mean to tell me you no longer wish to be more than a passenger?"
"No. I guess not." She sighed again.
"Then you must get back on the horse." He handed the reins to her. "Come, you can do this. Show me the strength I know you possess. You fought an orc with only a small knife to protect you. Surely this is easier."
"Nearly got killed by an orc, you mean," she retorted, but gave him a brief smile. Making sure she had the reins properly in place, Erin placed her foot in the stirrup and took a deep breath. I can do this. I won't be afraid. With a little boost from Éomer, she managed to swing her leg over and settle herself on Silhafel's back. The mare's ears flicked back at her, acknowledging her presence.
"Pat her neck, let her know you are there. She is unsettled as you are by what has happened," he told her encouragingly. "Trust me in this, lady. Silhafel does not make a habit of losing riders."
Erin watched him mount his horse and patted the mare on her neck, speaking softly. "You didn't mean to toss me like unwanted luggage, did you Silhafel," she said. "You won't do it again, I hope." The mare's ears flicked forward and back, listening to Erin's words. "Good girl." The more she talked, the more at ease she felt, and when the party of Rohirrim and elves moved forward at last, Erin was at least a little more comfortable in the saddle.
Éomer rode beside her again, keeping a watchful eye on the young woman, seeing her stiff posture begin to relax slightly as they rode. Though it had literally been years since he had been thrown from a horse as she had been, he understood her fear. He was glad to see she had not given into it. He glanced at the elves riding behind them, and spotted the tall elf that had been standing next to Erin earlier. Though it was difficult to tell from a distance, he could almost feel the elf's gaze upon them.
"Who was the elf with you?" he asked finally, turning back to look at Erin. "You seemed to know him."
Erin laughed. "His name is Orophin. He and his brother, Rúmil, were my escorts when I went to Lothlórien." She couldn't help but glance back at the elves riding behind them, and she spotted Orophin easily, riding three riders back from Lord Celeborn. She searched the faces of the elves in front of him and grinned, finally finding Haldir riding directly behind his Lord. She continued to scan faces but did not see Rúmil's among them, and wondered where he was. Perhaps, if she got the chance, she could ask Orophin or Haldir later.
With a heavy sigh, she pushed the thought away and turned forward once more, looking between Silhafel's ears the way Éomer had taught her.
"You were going to tell me about your land before," Éomer said, sidling his horse closer. "I would like to hear your tale, if you will share it with me."
Erin smiled briefly, glancing at him. "What do you want to know?"
He adjusted his grip on his helmet and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Tell me about your family, if it does not trouble you to speak of them."
She nodded. "All right."
As they rode, she found herself telling Éomer about growing up, moving from city to city, even to different countries every few years, whenever her father was relocated to a new military base. She told him about her trouble with making friends because of it, and how difficult it was for her as she grew older to enjoy the simple things that girls her age took for granted. It wasn't until her father finally retired to Washington State that Erin had begun to finally make long lasting relationships with her school mates, yet even then, she didn't have many that she could call close friends. She glossed over her difficulties with boyfriends, not feeling very comfortable sharing that bit of information with him. He made no judgmental comments while she poured out her uncertainty and unhappiness, and she realized that Éowyn was right: he was a good listener.
"So, your mentor sent you on a camping trip? Alone?" He did not bother to hide his surprise. "Do women of your land do that often?"
Erin shrugged. "My world is not as dangerous in some ways as this one; we don't have orcs running about ready to slaughter anything that gets in their way. And the place I went to was still pretty close to civilization, so I really wasn't worried about it." She gave him a grin. "I was mostly worried about bears."
He shook his head. "Strange your land must be. Then what happened?"
Erin hesitated. This was where things started to get weird, and she wasn't sure how well he would accept it. She took a deep breath and decided she might as well spill it. Hopefully he wouldn't think she was nuts. "I had a really rotten time camping; I couldn't get my fire started, and it was raining and cold. I finally gave up and went to bed, and then I couldn't sleep at first, because it was too quiet." She took another deep breath. "I heard this noise and it woke me up. I thought it was a bear. I didn't get really scared until it pushed on my tent."
Éomer's eyebrows rose and he nodded for her to continue.
"Well, it wasn't a bear, though I didn't know it at the time. I got my flashlight and I turned it on and shined through the tent and yelled as loud as I could - hoping that it would scare the animal away. I guess it worked, or something, because it left. The next thing I hear is a tap on my tent, and voices outside of it." She shook her head. "I was actually more scared at that point than I was when I thought the bear was outside."
"You were alone and unarmed," Éomer said. "It is understandable."
"Right," Erin said, giving him a smile. "I was hoping that it was maybe a park ranger, and not some crazies out to do me bodily harm. Anyway, I finally opened my tent flap and there is this scruffy looking guy who looks like he hasn't bathed in at least a week, staring down at me. I don't know who was more surprised, him or me." She laughed shortly. "That's how I met Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli."
Several things about Erin's explanation bothered him. He did not recognize the names of any of the places she said she had lived in, though he was not completely familiar with the lands that lay outside of Middle Earth. But her description of going camping in one place, and waking in an entirely different one, made him uneasy. It sounded like magic to him, and like most Rohirrim, he did not entirely trust things of magic.
He shifted in the saddle. "Do you know how you came to be here?" he asked finally.
Erin sighed and looked away. "It's a really long story involving things I'm still not sure I really believe. Suffice it to say that the powers that be decided I belonged here, and after being here over a month, I had to agree with them." It was an oversimplified version of events, but she didn't think he would believe the whole story.
They rode on in silence, Éomer casting occasional glances at her as they passed through the tall grass of the plains. He felt that there was more to her story than what she had told him, but he did not believe it was right for him to press her if she did not wish to tell him. Despite their shared experiences, he realized with some regret that they were little more than strangers. He had to admit that part of him hoped that one day, it would no longer be that way.
Read Chapter 3
