AN: ::sneaks in, hiding from angry reviewers:: Right. It's been waaaay too long, I know. I've been busy! Really…I hope this chapter is good enough to make up for my long absence.

In front of the mare, the third of my attackers looked around us observantly. His piercing black eyes finally came to rest on me.

"You are the Princess Lothiriel, are you not?"

Remembering the knife at my throat, I merely nodded.

"You are wise to cooperate with us. This can either be quick and painless or long and drawn out. Your behavior will determine the ending of your life." As Black Eyes spoke, he shifted his weight. I managed a discrete glimpse towards the oak tree.

I was debating taking matters into my own hands and abandoning the entire plan when an enraged battle cry split the morning air. All three of the Haradrim snapped their attention northwards, where a shaft of light lent an otherworldly glow to the lone rider galloping out of the shadows. Relief calmed my nerves.

Black Eyes uttered what I guessed was a curse in Haradric. My language lessons had never taught me such words. I understood his instructions to the other two, though. "Ride hard away from this place. In two days, try to get word to Our Lord. I shall stay and hold them off with the threat of her death."

As the two assassins nodded and fled, I was tempted to follow suit, but the mare I was riding would not have outrun Black Eyes' stallion for any amount of time. Instead, I found myself hauled off of my horse and yanked painfully to sit in front of the man himself, his dagger firmly pressed to my neck.

"If you so much as breathe deeply, you're dead, Princess." He hissed in my ear.

"Somehow I doubt that. Do not forget, I am your only leverage. Kill me and they will only end your life as well." Oh, dear. There I went again, speaking before I thought.

"If you value her life, you will not come any nearer!" My captor shouted.

Eomer halted abruptly, about ten feet in front of us. At his upraised fist, the troops coming behind stopped their approach. His eyes met mine, and I saw both his fury and his fear for me.

"Tell them to lower their bows"

"Let her go. She is not the one you were sent to waylay." The look on Eomer's face was startling in its intensity. I remembered Eowyn's claim that her brother was the third-best warrior she had ever seen, and wondered who the other two could be.

"Oh? Well, then, I should dispose of this worthless baggage…" I winced as the knife cut into my skin. Eomer could not hide his look of horror.

"Ah, so she does mean something to you." Black Eyes pronounced smugly.

Eomer started to say something, but I interrupted him. "I am but a…a seamstress in the King's household. They needed someone to play the part of a princess. I volunteered."

"You would do well to remain silent." The man's right arm was wrapped around my waist, pinning my hand to my side. He addressed Eomer again, obviously still buying time for his friends. "A seamstress, eh? No, too pretty for a mere servant. I suspect you were his concubine as well."

A sound very like a growl escaped Eomer's throat. His hand went to his sword-hilt. I sincerely hoped he would not do anything stupid in a misguided attempt to protect my reputation. Could he not see that he was being goaded into action?

"Release her!"

"Perhaps." Black Eyes said. "After I have….sampled her wares." His hand slid up my waist to harshly grip my breast. Bastard.

In a blinding flash of knowledge, I remembered the knife up my sleeve. Feeling like an idiot for not having recalled it sooner, I tried to think of a way to free my right arm enough to get it out.

"Eomer, remember the first time. Don't do anything stupid." I pleaded, hoping he would realize what I meant by 'the first time', and that I had my dagger with me. I wiggled the fingers on my right hand slightly. His eyes narrowed.

"Shut your mouth, girl."

Suddenly, Eomer's eyes widened again and his mouth turned up in what might, under other circumstances, have been considered a slight smile. "But I will still owe you a debt, my Lady."

"What are you talking about?" Black Eyes asked angrily.

"'Tis a private matter." Eomer replied.

The Southerner grunted suspiciously. "No matter. I have need of a faster horse, yours will do. Dismount!" Eomer complied much too easily, but Black Eyes didn't seem to notice. "Now send him to me."

Eomer did so, fully grinning now. As Wingfoot approached us, his master gave a short, high whistle. The horse reared up on his hind legs. Automatically, Black Eyes reached out to grab Wingfoot's bridle—with his right hand.

Seizing my opportunity, I released my knife from its hidden sheath in my sleeve. I twisted what little bit I could to get as far away from the Haradric knife as I was able, then drove my own blade into my captor's thigh.

By the time he finished screaming, Black Eyes was on the ground, being thoroughly pummeled by my fiancee.

"Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

"I am perfectly fine." I assured Eomer. "Everything went according to plan."

"No, it didn't. Damn, he cut your neck, didn't he? I'll kill him…"

I was wrapped securely in Eomer's arms, watching as Elessar's men bound Black Eyes tightly. Next to him lay the other two Haradrim. They hadn't gotten very far once the King's trackers had been sent out after them, and had returned just in time to witness the end of their comrade's beating.

I had the feeling it would have been a lot worse beating if I hadn't been there to stop Eomer, as Elessar hadn't seemed very inclined to interfere.

"It's over, Eomer. Everyone is safe." I smiled up at him, and leaned into his kiss. It was a long, thorough kiss that left me weak in the knees and clinging to Eomer for support. It, too, might have gone on longer if we had not bee interrupted by a loud throat clearing just behind us.

"I am most relieved to have you some safe and well, Lothiriel, but I must warn you: there had better be a very good explanation for all of this." Perfect.

It was Father.

Me Again: I swear on pain of…no Orlando Bloom pictures for a week, the next update will be sooner!