YAY! I got two reviews! (happy dance)

Blacksand: as requested, I added a bit more emotion than there was originally. Your advice is appreciated because I'd been wondering about that myself.

I awoke in the middle of the night in a panic. I was cold and I didn't know where I was and all I knew was that several sleeping—male—bodies were near mine. I lay there for a few moments, breathing shallowly, while everything came rushing back. This didn't really improve my mood, but at least I knew that I was, at the moment, safe. I shivered and scooted closer to the dying embers, trying to keep my teeth from chattering. Finally, I gave up on sleep and sat up, rubbing my arms.

I stared into the embers and felt a tear slide down my cheek. The full weight of all that had happened chose that moment to crash down on my head. Abbi was dead and I was completely alone in a strange, strange land with no hope of going home. What would happen to me? I knew I was safe with Eomer and his men, but I seriously doubted they would just let me tag along with them for the rest of my days. And Abbi...Oh, God, Abbi.

Abbi had been closer than a sister to me. And she was gone. Eaten, no less. I shivered, remembering all too vividly the wicked curve of the blade and the glimmer of moonlight on the blood running down the monster's chin. Why did she have to die? Why not me? Because, a traitorous little voice in my head hissed. You ran ahead. You were faster. With a choked sob, I buried my face in my hands and tried not to wake anyone up as I cried.

I was unsuccessful. Eomer sat up, blinking sleepily, and asked, "Lady Sky, are you crying?"

"No," I said gruffly, hastily wiping away tears. "I was just trying to get warm."

"I must say you're garments are not...suitable."

"It was much warmer where I came from," I replied listlessly.

"In the morning I will give you my spare set of clothes," he said quietly. "They will likely be too big, but they are warm and will keep my men's eyes off of your legs, at any rate."

I managed a small, if wet, smile. "Thank you."

"For now, use my cloak." Eomer tossed me said cloak and I wrapped it around my legs and then wrapped the blanket around myself again. "When we reach Meduseld, I'm sure my sister can find you something to wear."

"Meduseld?"

"My uncle's hall," he explained.

"Thank you," I whispered. His kindness and generosity nearly undid me. "I—I don't know how I'll ever repay you, but I will try. I'll leave as soon as I'm able and—find something to do."

"Don't be silly," he said tartly. "You will remain at Meduseld as our guest. Eowyn has been far too long without female company, anyway."

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. "Would you treat any peasant as well as you have treated me?"

"You, lady, for all your strangeness, are no peasant," he said firmly. "That much is apparent."

I rubbed my face, avoiding the bruise left by the orc—fork, pork, dork, whatever the hell it was called—and dried blood flaked off. For a moment I thought I might vomit, but it passed as quickly as it came. My hair and scalp felt disgusting and I was beginning to itch from dried sweat, blood, and mud.

"How long does it take to get to Meduseld?" I asked wearily.

"A day or two, perhaps," Eomer said with a shrug. "Riding double may slow us down."

"You don't have any spare horses?" I asked, blushing. Riding with Eomer might prove—distracting.

"Well, yes, but--" I noted with no little surprise that the tall warrior was blushing. "Why? Can you ride?"

"I think I can manage," I said with a smile. Shyly, I asked. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-four," he replied, startled. "And you?"

"Seventeen," I told him. Seven years older. Damn.

Eomer grinned. "Only a few years younger than my sister. I think your coming will prove to be a blessing. Eowyn has no true friends, you see, because all the girls are too concerned with her rank."

"And what rank is that?" I asked idly.

"The king's niece."

"Oh."

"You do not sound very impressed," Eomer remarked.

"Should I be?"

Eomer laughed. "Perhaps. But I find it somewhat refreshing. Are you kin to royalty, that it matters not to you?"

"No," I said, shifting my weight. "There are no kings where I come from. At least, no kings with political power."

"How can that be?" Eomer was clearly shocked.

"In my country, the people choose their leader every four years. That's how most of the world does it, now. We used to have kings, but the royal families that still exist have no power." I yawned. "You ask a lot of questions."

"I am sorry," he told me, looking sincerely contrite. "I did not mean to make you think of--"

"Oh—no, it's alright," I assured him. "It makes me feel better, actually."

Eomer grinned and laughed softly. "Do you know how long it has been since someone besides my kin has interrupted me?"

"Sorry," I muttered. "I have to get used to this royalty thing."

"No, don't. Like I said, it's refreshing." Eomer stirred the coals and then lay down.

"You would do well to sleep, lady. We ride at first light."

Yawning, I agreed and did as he suggested and did not wake until morning.

When I did wake, it was before dawn and Eomer was kneeling beside me, shaking my shoulder gently. I sat up and yawned, wincing as abused muscles protested. With a mumbled 'thank you', I took the clothes he offered and pulled them on over my track uniform. They were much too big, but they were warm.

"I would offer you boots," Eomer said apologetically, "but I think they would be more hindrance than help."

"Too true," I replied, rolling up my sleeves. Pushing my hair out of my face, I grimaced. My hair was a mess of knots, mud, blood, twigs, and leaves. "When do we leave?"

"Now," he replied as a soldier brought forth two horses. Eomer took one and motioned to the other. "That is Hasufel. His master was slain in the battle last night."

"I'm sorry," I murmured, moving to make Hasufel's acquaintance. He seemed like a friendly guy, but he was sad. "Poor guy...I'm not your master, but I'd like to be your friend for a while."

"He is a good horse," Eomer said as he mounted his own horse. "He will make sure you come to no harm."

"I'm sure he will," I replied, and patted Hasufel's neck. When I was mounted and and settled in the strange saddle, I discovered that my feet did not even touch the stirrups. I leaned over to adjust them and realized that I had absolutely no idea how to do it. "Um, Eomer? How—how do you adjust the stirrups? I've never seen a saddle like this before."

"Tholren, help the lady," Eomer said, and a young soldier rushed over to help.

"Thank you," I said, smiling gratefully at him.

Tholren blushed and nodded. "You—you'll ride beside me, lady. Because Eoroc did."

Hasufel's master, I supposed. I moved into place and waited uncertainly. What was everyone waiting for? Suddenly all the men faced a large mound and said something in their own language—a prayer, I suppose. The mound must have been a grave.

Then Eomer shouted something and the company surged forward. Taken by surprise, I clutched the saddle until I could regain my balance. Thankfully, Hasufel knew perfectly well what to do. I merely had to stay on his back.

After the initial shock, I relaxed and enjoyed the ride. And what a ride it was! I was caught up in a veritable sea of horses. They moved as a single entity—like a flock of birds. Or a herd of wild horses, I thought.

By the time the sun was high in the sky, I was so absorbed in this wonderful experience that I completely missed the small band of strangers. Although, oddly enough, I wasn't the only one. The company wheeled around at the sound of a man's voice and surrounded the strangers with spears held ready. Well, I just sort of sat there, but everyone else glared and looked fierce.

I stood up in my stirrups, trying to see the strangers, but there were too many in the way. I sat back down with a huff and wondered what was going on. While I twitched and fidgeted and looked around, everyone else sat stock-still, like cats ready to strike. It came as quite a shock when I heard Eomer's voice call out, "Hasufel! Arod!" and I suddenly found myself in motion. The ranks opened up as Hasufel and another riderless horse trotted up to Eomer, who nodded to me and indicated that I should dismount.

"Take these two to speed your path," he told the strangers. "This is Hasufel, and this Arod. May you have better fortune than their former masters."

One of the strangers, a rough but oddly regal sort of man, bowed his head deeply. "We thank you for this kindness, cousin. Rest assured we shall return them to you, if we can."

Eomer nodded and looked at me. "Lady Sky, it looks as if you will ride with me after all."

I smiled and took the hand he held down to me. Scant seconds after my hand touched his, zip—I was seated behind him.

"Wow," I muttered as the company took flight once again.

At first I tried not to hold on too tightly. I wanted—well, not to impress them, but I didn't want them to think I was some weak, fragile nothing. Soon enough, though, I was clinging shamelessly to Eomer in order to stay on the horse's back. It's extremely disconcerting, galloping across hilly, rock studded country with your butt on nothing but bunching, rolling muscle rather than safely in a saddle or at least on the horse's back, where you're supposed to sit.

At the end of that extremely long day, my muscles were none too happy with me. I made the mistake of dismounting without Eomer's help and bit my lip against the pain in my legs and back—and neck and arms and even my abs. Everything hurt. Even so, I helped Eomer unsaddle his big stallion and then took the reins.

"Where are you going?" he asked in surprise.

"To walk out your horse," I replied tightly. And myself, I added silently.

"His name is Firefoot. And wouldn't you rather sit down?"

"No, my muscles will start cramping." He looked puzzled at that, but shrugged and turned to help set up camp.

To my delight, I came upon a stream and followed it downstream a bit. I nearly fainted with pleasure and relief to find a clear, rocky pool at the base of a small waterfall. Hurriedly I returned Firefoot to his master and asked for a blanket to take with me to the stream. Doubtless it would be cold when I got out.

"I will send Feawine with you," Eomer said, holding a hand up against my protests. "There may be orcs or other dangers about. I'm not even certain I should let you go at all."

"I'll end up tearing myself to bits if I don't clean myself soon," I said. "Bring this Feawine guy quickly. I think there might be things living in my hair by now."

"You do look rather in need of a bath," one soldier commented as he passed.

Trying to smother a grin, Eomer called for Feawine and I practically dragged him to the stream, where he took up a post facing away from me, fidgeting uncomfortably. I almost giggled. It must have been an intensely awkward situation for the poor man, who was obviously very shy.

Taking a deep breath, I undressed as quickly as I could and jumped into the water before I could chicken out. Jesus, but it was cold. Cursing colorfully and—rather inventively, I thought—I came up spluttering and gasping.

"Lady? Are—are you alright?"

"Yes," I managed, my teeth chattering. "It's just—really cold!"

"Aye, that it is," Feawine replied with a chuckle.

Muttering curses, I scrubbed myself all over and got the mud, blood, twigs, leaves, and the worst of the tangles out of my hair. It was the coldest bath I've ever had, but it was the best. I could barely climb out of the pool for the shivering, but I was clean. Wonderfully, gloriously clean. And it felt good.

It felt even better to dress and sit in front of the fire and finger comb and braid my hair while listening to the talk of the men. And then someone began to sing. It was beautiful and melancholy, full of longing. To me it was a longing for home. It brought tears to my eyes. I looked around and caught the eye of the singer. He was young—just barely older than myself, if that. His voice was a lovely tenor.

Despite past experiences with tenors, I was fairly certain that this one wasn't gay. Although, you never know...hell, if I were a gay guy—or a teenage girl, for that matter—I'd be in heaven. The company was chalk full of ruggedly handsome eye-candy (with a healthy splash of nasty teeth and pock-marked, greasy flesh, but hey, you can't have everything).

"Do you sing, my lady?" the boy asked when he was finished.

"A—a little," I stammered. I sang a lot, actually. I'd been in our school's chamber choir since my freshman year and had made the state choir the last two years in a row. But I was still awed by the tenor's performance and feeling rather worthless at the moment. (Now, before you start thinking that I'm a freak of nature, let me set you straight. Yes, I am. But I'm a human freak of nature. I am involved in a great many things, but they take up all my time. I am, at best, a C student. Just so you know.)

"Well, sing something!" someone shouted.

"Come, lass, don't be bashful!"

What the hell am I doing? I moaned to myself, and sat straighter.

"Oh, please, ne'er forget me,

tho waves now lie o'er me

I was once young and pretty,

And my spirit ran free.

Though destiny tore me

From country and loved ones

And from the new land I

Was never to see..."

The song has multitudinous verses, but I figured that a ballad was just the thing they wanted to hear, even if it was a heart wrenching story. (It's about an emigrant's daughter who dies on the crossing from Ireland.) It was just the thing for me, as well. It was one of my favorite songs, one of the many Irish tunes I learned from my grandmother and aunts. My dad's side is very, very Irish and they taught me how to speak and sing in Gaelic as well as English (and step-dance, but that's something I really, really don't want to get into). My grannie always said that you would never know I wasn't born and bred in Ireland when I sang.

By the time I finished, I felt a little better. It felt as if I'd let out some of my own grief and longing for home. I was surprised to see some of the men weeping openly. How long had they been away from their families? I wondered. Maybe that was why Eomer was so willing to have me along...it was an excuse to bring his men home.

"Excuse me?" A grizzled old warrior knelt before me and brushed my fingers with a kiss. He had spoken in his own language and I didn't understand a word of it.

"He said that you brought his own daughter back to life for him," Eomer translated softly. "If only for a few moments."

I didn't know what to say. I merely smiled at the old man and hoped that he could tell from my expression how moved I was. He nodded and smiled back and returned to his place across the fire. I noticed Eomer looking at me with an odd expression.

"What?"

"Lady Sky," he said carefully. "I have been thinking all this day on how wonderful it will be for my sister to have a companion, as if you were to stay with us for the rest of your days. Forgive me, I beg you. Although I cannot promise anything for the present, I swear to help you locate your stone circle and your home after the war."

"I can ask no more of you," I said gently. "I can only thank you for giving me somewhere to stay in the meantime."

"You are welcome to stay in Edoras for as long as you need to," Eomer assured her. "Sleep now; we can make it home by nightfall tomorrow."

I sighed. I only wished I could make it home.