Author's Note: Sorry this took so long. I've been pretty busy, with two jobs for awhile, and other stuff, but anyway. Here 'tis! Hope you like :)
Arwen Elf: You are a goddess among mere mortals! Thank you so much for the in-depth reviews and encouragement.
Eomer was silent for a moment. "An ambassador was behind this plot?"
"Technically, Mutheia isn't an ambassador. His son is, though, and Mutheia definitely controls Kutheia." I hesitated for a second, then continued. "It is likely that Kutheia knew about the attempt on your life and was involved in some way."
He sighed and stared at the ground. Then he looked up and caught the look on my face. "Ria…why on earth are you grinning?"
"I won't have to get married!" I said dreamily. "Although," I added, snapping out of my reverie, "I suppose that an attempted murderer is quite a bit more interesting than an ambassador. Perhaps I was too quick to judge Kutheia!"
"How can you jest at a time like this?" Eomer demanded.
"A time like this? Eomer, a King and a Princess are standing in the middle of the mountains, at night, next to the bound body of an unconscious Haradrim guard, having just found out that the Princess' fiancee was involved in a plan to kill the King. Don't you find that the least bit comical?" I crossed my arms and couldn't help smiling.
"No!" Eomer snapped. "I find it eminently frustrating that I can't ride down into that clearing, kill a couple men, and go home. Instead, I have to think of a way to get the Princess and the King to safety, find acceptable proof that the fiancee was behind the plot, send the proof to the Emperor of Harad so that the fiancee will be duly tried and executed, all the while dodging more attempts on my life that will likely occur. I don't think it's at all comical!"
I was about to retort with something along the lines of "worry about getting yourself out of here, this princess is not your responsibility" when there came a groan from the prone figure laying on the ground. Eomer and I both dropped to our knees on either side of the soldier and observed that he was regaining consciousness.
"Mightn't he know something useful?" I asked. Eomer nodded and, after sufficient time had passed for the man to come to his senses, began questioning him. The soldier put up a half-hearted struggle to retain what knowledge he had, but when Eomer casually threatened him with various retaliatory actions (all of which elicited glares from me) the words began flowing like Father's best Dorwinion during a festival.
Apparently, there had been a severe drought in Harad for many years now. People were starving, and the war-weakened country could not afford to buy food from other places for its citizens. The powerful Mutheia had decided to use this as an excuse to try to take over Rohan: the Mark's widespread grain and cattle farms would be useful in feeding the Haradrim. So Mutheia had sent an assassin to kill the King of Rohan just before his party arrived there. Under guise of 'helping right the country so recently deprived of its ruler,' the ambassadors would have established themselves as the power in Rohan.
However, Eomer did not die as planned, and Mutheia was forced to go to a backup plan. This one involved me.
"Kutheia is engaged to the Princess of Dol Amroth of Gondor, but the Princess, she ran away from him. Mutheia knows that she will return sometime. He has placed watchers all around the entrances to the city, and throughout it. She will not reach her home."
Eomer grasped the soldier roughly by the collar and pinned him to a tree trunk. "Why?"
"Her body is to be found raped and murdered in Rohan, and Kutheia will have just cause to go to war with the Horse-Lords."
I inhaled sharply. Eomer was dangerously still.
"Well," I stammered finally. "That was…enlightening. Now what?"
Eomer stood up, dropping the soldier to the grass. "We have lingered here too long." He said to me, then addressed the crouched man on the ground. "I care not what tale you tell your lord when he questions you, only that you tell him nothing for a time yet." Eomer gagged the soldier tightly, then dragged him into a clump of bushes nearby. With luck, he wouldn't be found for hours. Then, the King turned back to me.
"We must send word of this to your father before he hears a corrupted tale from these men. We cannot safely enter Dol Amroth, nor is there time to ride back to Edoras and send messengers from there. We will go to Minas Tirith."
"Yes," I agreed. "Father must be warned. If he falls into Mutheia's trap, he might well decide to go to war himself. What a disaster that would be for Dol Amroth, and for Rohan!"
Eomer narrowed his eyes. "For that to take place, you would have to be killed. Trust me, Ria, I have no intention of letting that happen. Do not worry." He led Wingfoot toward me. "Wingfoot can bear us both farther without rest than Gwen can carry you. She will find her way back to Edoras safely."
With reluctance, I let Gwen wander away northwards and mounted Wingfoot. Eomer swung up behind me.
"If I recall correctly, my lord, it was I who saved your life the last time we endured an assassination attempt. Therefore, I would not worry overmuch about my safety if I were you."
Eomer chuckled, the first sign of light-heartedness I had heard from him all night. "Oh, no, Ria. You won't be rid of me that easily."
"I know I shouldn't ask, but what do you mean?"
"I'm not letting you out of my sight until your father personally takes you off my hands."
Dawn came and went, and soon afterwards even Wingfoot needed to stop for a break. We camped on the edge of a small stream, Eomer and I sitting next to the water while the horse grazed nearby.
"Did you mean what you said before you left Meduseld, Ria?" Eomer spoke, breaking the companionable silence that had surrounded us for some time in our lightly wooded glade.
"I recall saying a lot of things, Eomer. Which part are you referring to?" I replied, even though I knew the answer.
Eomer turned towards me. "You said that if you stayed another minute, you would fall in love with me."
His eyes, I mused, were like the deepest muddy pools in a bog. They sucked me in, under the depths, till I felt I couldn't breath, but instead of stopping, my heard only sped up. The brown color was akin to sanded, lacquered, polished mahogany, the kind that is made into furniture that is handed down through a family for generations. Or like fresh-tilled earth, just before the spring planting…
"Of course I meant it." I confessed. How could I not, with his eyes peering into my soul like that?
Eomer turned his head away from me, but didn't move from my side. I waited for his response.
Silence.
My heart fell. I had hoped, for a second, that he might break down and profess his undying devotion to my person…but no. No proclamation of noble regard, no declaration of everlasting passion. I blushed that I had dared to think he might feel something beyond lust for me, and I was glad he didn't see. In my mind's eye I curled back into myself like a hermit crab.
Then, without a word, without looking at me, Eomer reached over and took my hand. He brought it to his lips, turned it, and kissed the palm gently.
"We'd best be off." He said, getting to his feet and pulling me to mine as well.