Author Note: As I've remarked before, I know where this story needs to go, it's getting there that's the problem. ::sigh:: I'll probably write down every bad plot scenario I've thought up thus far, stick them all in a hat, and draw them out and use them one by one until IT happens.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys are great. Even when I don't reply to each one individually, I do read and ponder them all. Merci beaucoup, mes amis!
What had I done?
As soon as Eomer and I parted company at the practice field, the doubts had started racing through my mind. All through the afternoon, as I sliced potatoes in the kitchens, I wondered if I had done the right thing. I begged and pleaded until Calla reluctantly agreed to chaperone Eomer's fitting because I was afraid to be alone with him. Yet my pride would not let me back down after I had demanded he teach me to fight.
Why was I afraid? I feared his deep brown eyes; I feared his broad shoulders and long golden hair; I feared the way he grinned when someone told a joke at dinner, the way he treated his people as equals. I feared the way he looked at me whenever I passed him in the corridors, like he very desperately wanted to run out of whatever meeting he was in the midst of and grab me.
I knew he was attracted to me, that much was quite obvious. What caused me disturbance was the force of my attraction for him. There had been men I had thought handsome before, at home, and men I had laughed with and thought I might have been happy to spend my life alongside. Never before, though, had one so fascinated or exasperated me as did Eomer. I wanted to know why he acted the way he did, so gruff and unapproachable, yet hid within himself a soul so pure it startled those who glimpsed it. I glimpsed it every time I looked into his eyes.
So now I paced nervously outside Gwen's stall, sifting through my thoughts trying to make sense of my emotions. But mind and heart have never coincided, and I came to no conclusions.
Bootsteps sounded outside. I heard the massive stable doors open and close, and someone walked slowly down the center aisle. Before I could turn to greet the approacher, an arm wrapped around my waist and another loosely circled my throat.
"Now. In this position you must be careful not to struggle too much before you make your move. Pretend I'm holding a knife at your throat. Vain thrashing about will only make me grip you tighter, and you might cut yourself in the process. What are you going to do?" Eomer's voice, thank the Valar, was brisk and professional, and he couldn't see my blush in the dimly lit stables. Remembering what I had learned that afternoon, I took a deep breath, hooked one foot behind his ankle, spun around and shoved him backwards. He tripped over my foot and fell to the floor. There was a white flash as he grinned up at me.
"Very good! But if someone holds a knife at your neck, be sure and either bite them until they drop it, or get them to take it away before you act. Again." Eomer leapt up and assumed the same pose. Once again, I tried to trip him up and push him away…only this time, he didn't fall, merely spun me around until my arms were pinned behind me and my legs were trapped between his.
"The ideal solution to this problem, of course," He said professionally, "Is to not get yourself in this position in the first place. However," Eomer winced and loosed his grip on me after I stomped on his toes. "Situations beyond your control may necessitate some self-defense, and no woman should be without at least the basics." I jerked away from him and turned to look haughtily at him. Ha.
"I seem to have escaped you, my lord."
"You have speed, and that is well. Against brute strength, however, it will save you only if you act quickly and do not prolong the conflict, else you will tire too soon to help yourself." I nodded when he paused, for that seemed to make sense. "Do you have your knife with you?"
In answer, I pulled it out of its sheath under my sleeve.
"Throw it away."
"What?"
"Just for now. I don't want you tempted to slit my throat, and I am unarmed." Rolling my eyes, I set the blade atop the gatepost of Gwen's stall.
We practiced for over an hour. Eomer would attack me in various ways, then show me how I might slip past my enemy's guard and escape. I was soon breathing heavily and sweating, but to my annoyance Eomer showed few signs of fatigue, save a light flush on his face.
"Perhaps we should stop. You seem…tired." The look of smug superiority on his face infuriated me.
"You are not wearing a dress, two underskirts, and a chemise my lord."
"I hope you are not wearing all of that on my account." Eomer grinned rakishly and I remembered my purpose here. I reached up with my left hand to hit him across the face, and when he moved easily to block the blow, my right palm connected with his cheek. Hard. "One down, two to go." Smirking, I picked up my knife and tucked it into my sleeve again.
Eomer winced and rubbed his face. "I thought we agreed on two slaps."
"That was before your last comment."
"Amazing." Eomer spoke softly to himself, but I heard him and turned back.
"What is amazing?"
"That I allow my seamstress to treat me in such a manner. I cannot fathom why I don't simply dismiss you, yet something stops me. Is it your regal bearing? Your proud stature? Your vocabulary?" The King took a step towards me and tipped my face upward with his forefinger. "Nay, Ria…it is your spirit. I have met only one woman with such a fiery soul before. My sister gave her passion to the Steward of Gondor and took the liveliness from Meduseld. Somehow, when you came, you brought it back."
With his face so near mine, it was all I could do to breath. I took a shaky gulp of air, then stumbled over my words.
"I have heard of your ability to charm women into submission, my lord. It will not work with me."
His eyes darkened, if that was possible, and his face hardened to stone. From somewhere deep inside him, his voice came deep and rough.
"I do not seek to seduce you, Ria. If I did," Eomer's hand moved to cup my face, then to cradle the back of my kerchief-covered head. "I would do this."
Then he kissed me, a kiss that, though it was my first, left me in no doubt that if he wanted to he could have me flat on my back in a matter of moments. His lips were soft and hot; he claimed my mouth and through it my body and, though I did not realize it then, my soul. Before I could stop myself, my arms were around his neck and I was kissing him back, silently begging for more. Eomer bent me backward slightly and ran his hands under my kerchief into my hair. I didn't care. And then he pulled back.
Suddenly I was cold. The shivers and heat that had coursed through my limbs were replaced by stark loneliness. Gulping for air, I looked at Eomer. There was a strange look in his eyes: surprised, as though he hadn't expected such a result.
"You have never kissed a man before." It wasn't a question.
"How could you tell?"
"You were so…real. Uninhibited. Honest." Eomer smiled slowly, a purely male, satisfied smile.
I realized what I had done and my eyes widened in horror. I had kissed a man! A man I was not married not, not even betrothed to, whom I barely knew.
"It shall not happen again!" Turning on my heel, I ran back into the Hall.
I did not go to supper in the Great Hall that evening. They did not need my assistance in the kitchen, so out of sheer boredom I stayed in my room and sewed till my eyes drooped. I fell into bed expecting to go directly to sleep, but when my head hit the pillow I instead stared out the window at the stars and wondered what had come over me.
The next day I managed to avoid Eomer until dinner. All day long I skulked in my room, sewing furiously, until Calla came and demanded I go eat with her. An important announcement was to be made, she said excitedly, and she didn't want me to miss it. I was tempted to refuse, or plead sickness, but when I thought of all the trouble Calla had gone to on my behalf I couldn't bring myself to deny her. So I bound my hair up tightly and covered it, assumed a poised and controlled expression, and followed the Chief Housekeeper out into the Hall.
With relief, I noted that the High Table was filled with soldiers of the Royal Guard. Calla and I sat at one of the lower tables. Once during dinner, Eomer managed to capture my gaze once, but I swiftly looked away. After the tables were cleared, the King stood. All eyes turned to him as he began an announcement.
"Tonight I have the great honor and pleasure of announcing the impending marriage of Seith, fourth guard to the King, and Calla, Chief Housekeeper of Meduseld." Eomer paused for cheering and congratulations. "The exchange of vows and formal recognition will take place one week from tonight, in this Hall, before our foreign guests arrive. To Seith and Calla!" He raised his goblet and took a swallow of wine, but his eyes were on me.
"To Seith and Calla." I echoed with the crowd. The couple shyly gazed at each other across the room, and their love was almost palpable. My eyes filled with tears as I witnessed the happiness I would never share. Never would I fall in love with and be courted by a man of my own choosing, and never would I marry such a one.
I escaped the Hall as soon as I could and fled to my room. In the shadows outside my door, I finally allowed myself to cry. With a sob, I turned the handle, but a hand covered mine and stopped me from opening the door.
"Ria, why do you weep? Is this not a joyous occasion for your friend?"
"What are you doing here?" I asked, withdrawing my hand from Eomer's.
"I wanted to apologize if I upset you yesterday. Clearly, something distressed you this evening as well." There was genuine concern in his voice. The temptation to confide in him was overwhelming, but I knew I could not.
"Thank you, my lord." I said tiredly. "'Twas not your doing, only my own wayward thoughts. Good night." I started to enter my room, but Eomer held the door open and spoke again.
"Will you go for a ride with me tomorrow? I need to inspect some of the outlying fields, and it would be much more bearable if I did it in good company."
Curious, I turned to face him. "What will your people say? They will think you stoop to court a seamstress."
Eomer grinned. "They would be correct."
Unbidden, a smile came to my face. "Why would you do such a thing?"
"I believe we discussed that in the stables yesterday." I blushed.
"There will be talk. Scandal."
"What's the use of being King if I can't turn heads once in awhile? Let them talk. There's not a man or woman in this city who can't see that you're more than a common servant."
I meant to say no. I really did. But when I opened my mouth, all that came out was, "All right. I will ride with you tomorrow."
Thus I sealed my doom.