Eomer and I didn't end up going riding for a few days because of war councils and training and stuff, but I did have dinner with him every evening. Slowly, my evil thoughts began to subside. Grudgingly, yes, but Eomer was charming, funny, and very kind. And it wasn't his fault, after all. Theoden, of course, was another matter entirely. I avoided him like the plague and gave him nasty looks whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Of course there were a few awkward moments of silence from time to time, but, on the whole, Eomer was very easy to talk to. As long as I didn't think too much about the fact that I was going to marry him in a few weeks. I became very comfortable around him. In fact, most of the awkward moments weren't from my fear of marriage at all—they stemmed from my attraction to him. Completely normal, hot-guy awkwardness. I mean, the man was gorgeous. Hell, if I had to get married against my will, at least I was marrying a hottie, right?

By the time we finally got a chance to go riding, the evil thoughts were gone and we had a blast. Eomer gave me a beautiful stormy gray filly (as an early wedding gift, he said) and told me I could name her. She was no frail lady's horse but a big, strong, athletic looking animal—a trained war-horse, like all of Eomer's horses. The filly and I raced Eomer and Firefoot back to the stables after our ride and we completely smoked them. She was so fast! Needless to say, Eomer shot up a few rungs on the ladder in my mind.

I named the filly Liadan ("gray lady" in Gaelic) and rode her nearly every day, either with Eomer or Eowyn or by myself. Whenever I started to freak out over the wedding or a measurement sitting with the seamstresses went badly or something, I'd take her out for a run and we'd both come back exhausted, but happy. I also followed Eomer's example: when I couldn't sleep, I would creep down to the stables and talk to Liadan instead of sleeping in a pile of hay. Once I bumped into Eomer doing the same thing and it became a regular thing to go down to the stables and chat after dinner.

Time, however, seemed to slip between my fingers and before I knew it, the wedding was only two days away.

"Stop!" I yelled, causing two bickering seamstresses to pause and stare at me. I looked at Eowyn. "I can't do this. I can't. I mean—I'm getting married for Christ's sake--"

Before I could say anything more, Eowyn grabbed my hand and dragged me from the room. Leaving two gobsmacked seamstresses staring openmouthed after us.

"Sky!" she hissed. "Pull yourself together! What were you thinking? Haven't I told you a thousand times that no one can know how you really feel about this marriage? What would Eomer's people think of their future king if they knew his bride was unwilling?"

"Well, the bride is unwilling," I snapped. "I was crazy to agree to this."

"Sky, I know you're nervous about the wedding, but really—you and Eomer have been getting on so well--"

"Is something wrong?" I turned to see Eomer standing in the hallway behind me, looking concerned. "Sky, are you alright?"

"Just wedding nerves," Eowyn said smoothly. "Nothing to worry about."

"I'm a bit nervous, myself," Eomer admitted.

"Nervous" was something of an understatement, in my case. "Panic-stricken" was more like it. I was on the verge of tears and quite possibly a nervous breakdown. Eomer saw this and smiled comfortingly.

"Sky, why don't we have dinner with Liadan and Firefoot tonight?" he suggested, taking my hand.

I smiled shakily. "I—yes, I'd like that." It was a good idea; the stables was a comfort zone for both of us.

To my surprise, Eomer hesitated, then kissed my cheek before hurrying away. I put a hand to my cheek, blushing, and pointedly ignored Eowyn's smug grin. Taking a deep breath, I walked back into the room and climbed onto the chair I'd been standing on. The seamstresses glanced at Eowyn, who nodded and made my excuses—pre-wedding nerves, blah blah blah—and then they returned to pulling me this way and that and poking

me with needles until I was ready to scream again.

When we finished, Eowyn smiled in relief and said, "Let's go for a ride."

"I was just about to say that," I replied with a crooked smile. "I'll meet you at the stables in fifteen minutes."

I hurried to my room with Freda puffing behind and threw open the wardrobe, snatching out a dark gray riding skirt and cloak and throwing them on the bed while Freda unlaced my dress. Next came a shirt and tunic out of the chest. Hastily, I drew on the riding skirts, which were actually really, really loose pants. From nearly all angles, they looked just like skirts, but they parted to make riding easier. Eowyn had invented them years ago and I thought they were fantastic.

I tugged on my boots and buckled my belt as I raced out the door. I met Eowyn in the entrance hall and smiled to see that she had a basket of food with her. I hadn't even realized that we'd missed lunch—it was well past noon. We rode out to the lake I'd found by accident and ate, then rode toward a nearby village. On the way, we were surprised to see a horse and rider cantering wearily toward us. As he came closer, we could see the frightened, desperate expression on his dirty, slightly bloody face.

"My lady Eowyn! Message for the king!" he gasped.

"What is it?" Eowyn cried. "What's wrong?"

"Helmsdeep—under attack—Lord Erkenbrand—oh, my lady, lend me a horse--"

"Take mine," I said decisively, and dismounted. "She's faster."

"Bless you lady," he said fervently.

Within minutes he was gone. Eowyn and I followed as fast as we could, but the messenger's horse was exhausted. When we finally made it back to Meduseld, the sun was low in the sky. We called for a servant to tend the horses, which we usually never did, and hurried into the hall. Freda rushed up to meet us.

"My lady—he's in the council chamber with the king and Lord Eomer and Lord Aragorn's company."

"Thank you, Freda," I said, and turned to go. Then I hesitated. "Wait—how did you--"

Freda smiled. "He rode in on Liadan, lady. I knew you couldn't be far behind."

I flashed her a grin and ran to catch up with Eowyn, who was already halfway down the hallway. We slipped into the council chamber in time to witness Theoden cross examine the poor man about the situation at Helmsdeep. It seemed that Helmsdeep was under attack and wasn't doing too well. One of their best warriors—Lord Erkenbrand—was nowhere to be found and they were badly in need of reinforcements. My heart leapt—perhaps they'd put off the wedding—but Theoden shot my hopes down like a pheasant destined for the cookpot.

"We will set out three days hence," Theoden proclaimed. "Eomer's wedding is the day after tomorrow." He held up a hand as the man sputtered a protest. "I will not leave for war without at least the chance for an heir. And in any case, we will need at least that long to make ready."

"I will go tonight and bring word to Helmsdeep," Gandalf said. "And perhaps be of some assistance."

The messenger wasn't pleased, but he was curious nonetheless. "Who—I beg pardon, my lord—who is your betrothed?"

Heads turned.

"Er—that'd be me," I said, blushing.

"A worthy bride, my lord," the messenger said with a kind smile. "Twas she who lent me her horse to hasten my journey. She will make a good wife—and a good queen."

I blushed and noticed Eomer grinning broadly.

"Aye," he agreed. "Lady Skyla is as kind-hearted a lass as anyone could hope for, despite her sharp tongue."

I cleared my throat. "If you are all quite finished talking about me as if I weren't standing right here, perhaps someone could set about getting this man some food and a bed."

Aragorn laughed and Eomer had the grace to look abashed as Eowyn ushered the messenger out of the council chamber.

"Kind-hearted you may be, my lady," Aragorn chuckled, "but soft-spoken you are not. Eomer, I bid you good luck, and hope for your sake that you are not expecting a docile bride."

"Oh, I've no delusions about that," Eomer said, rolling his eyes. Rising, he offered me his arm. "Lady Sky, may I escort you to supper?"

I laid my arm over his and snorted in a very unladylike fashion when his belly emitted a loud, rumbling complaint.

"Are you sure you can wait that long?" I asked dryly, and took a piece of bread leftover from lunch out of my pocket. "Here, eat that."

Eomer took it and we left amid hearty chuckles from the rest of the room. Eomer slanted a glance at me and grinned around a mouthful of bread.

"Not that don't find half-chewed bread incredibly attractive," I remarked, "but I think you'd better swallow that before you say anything."

Eomer nodded and swallowed. "The servants looked at me strangely when I asked that they bring food to the stables."

I smiled. "I'd probably look at you strangely, too."

"Well, it was all right—I told them that you wanted it."

"You beast!" I cried, slapping his arm.

"Well, it's true," Eomer pointed out.

"But you suggested it! Now everyone's going to think your fiance is a loony."

"My what?"

"Oh," I said. "That's the word we use in my world for 'betrothed'."

"What would our wedding be like if we were in your world?" Eomer wondered.

"Well, my dress would be white instead of blue and you'd be wearing a tux--"

"Tux?"

"A—a black and white garment...um, black trousers, a white shirt, black vest, black jacket, and probably a black bow tie. Before you ask, a bow tie is a bow that's tied around your neck—it goes with the tux."

"A bow?" Eomer said indignantly. "I've seen village girls tie bows around their dogs' necks—"

"It is a silly custom," I agreed. "But it's been done that way for many, many years."

"So what would we do in these silly garments?" Eomer asked lightly as we sat down to eat. Firefoot and Liadan stretched their noses out to see what we were doing and then decided that they weren't at all interested in rabbit stew or bread.

"Well, we would go to a church and we'd say our vows and a priest would say his spiel—or maybe the other way around. Yes, actually, I think it is the other way around. And then the priest would proclaim us man and wife and you'd kiss me and then there would be a big party."

"Aside from the church and the priest and the silly garments and lack of games, that sounds a lot like our weddings," Eomer mused.

"I thought the same thing," I agreed, and then sighed. "I'd always envisioned my family at my wedding, though."

"I'm sorry, Sky," Eomer said softly, covering my hand with his own.

"It's not your fault," I protested. "You've been wonderful—I...I think I can do this, now."

"I'm glad," Eomer said simply, and we finished our dinner in companionable silence.

After the servants cleared away our dinner (and gave me weird looks), I flopped down in the pile of hay and stared at the ceiling. A cat stared back from the rafters for a moment, then flicked her tail and moved on. I reflected on the fact that I would be marrying Eomer the day after tomorrow. The thought wasn't so scary anymore. Sure, it wasn't my first choice of ways to spend the rest of my life—or a significant portion of it, but it was no longer a case of marrying a complete stranger. I felt like I knew Eomer enough to know that we wouldn't rip each other's heads off for at least a few months. Seriously, though, I felt like I could make a life with him. Maybe not an ideal life, but I wouldn't be completely unhappy.

"Eomer," I called, "what do the vows here include?"

After a pause, I heard Eomer plop himself down on the other side of the hay pile.

"Well—will I protect you and care for you and provide for you and so on and will you trust me and care for me and bear my children—that sort of thing."

"I think I can do most of that," I murmured.

"Most?"

I sighed and rolled around the pile so I could see him. "Look, I know the whole point of this is the give you an heir, but—I'm only seventeen. I'm not ready to have a baby."

Eomer frowned. "My mother had me when she was your age."

"People marry and have children much later in my world," I explained. "In fact, having a child before you're at least nineteen or twenty—even that's pushing it, really—is considered extremely..." I paused for a moment, trying to find a word he would understand "indicative of wanton behavior. Unseemly." In other words, slutty.

Eomer considered this. "I can't say I really understand it, Sky, but I can respect that you don't want children yet. Theoden probably won't, but I do."

"What about needing an heir and all that?" I asked worriedly.

"Well, I didn't say I'd like it," Eomer said with a frown. "I'll always hope for a child, but I won't be angry if you don't conceive right away. And, anyway, there's always Eowyn."

"Would she be queen?"

"Oh, no—her second son would take Rohan's throne," Eomer told me. "The first would inherit her husband's."

"That makes sense, I guess," I said with a yawn.

"You'd best get some sleep," Eomer told me, and tugged me to my feet. "Tomorrow Gandalf will need your help with the counter when we gather supplies."

"Alright," I replied. "I'm glad the calculator will be useful...you know, Legolas said something my first night here about paying Theoden back. He said...what was it? Oh, right. He said that Theoden is generous, but he doesn't give charity. Something like that."

"That's true," Eomer said thoughtfully as we walked back up to the hall. "Normally, however, it applies more to beggars working in the hall or in the stables for food and things like that. He's never asked anyone for their hand in marriage in return before. For himself or his nephew."

I shuddered at the thought of marrying an old man. "I'm glad I'm marrying you and not him."

"I think I would be too."

The next day was hectic and exhausting—which is probably a good thing. It kept me from worrying too much about the wedding. In any case, I slept as if I were dead that night—and Eowyn didn't deny it when I accused her of slipping something in my tea. My wedding day dawned fair and clear and, surprisingly enough, I felt something almost like anticipation.

I dressed in a nice but comfortable gown and ate the breakfast that Freda had laid out for me, then went with Eowyn to the practice fields to watch the games. I had a grand time watching Eomer trounce everyone and laughed when Eomer lost a single bout when he tripped over a small dog that had gotten loose.

As the sun was setting, everyone crammed into the main hall for the ceremony. I walked with Eomer to the throne as if in a daze. It was kind of like living in a bubble where nothing seemed quite real—as if I weren't really about to be married in mere minutes. I only half listened to Theoden as he gave his speech and murmured "I will" in the appropriate places almost absently. Then, suddenly, Eomer was kissing me gently on the lips and we were married. The only thing I remember clearly is thinking that Eomer smelled pretty good for a guy who'd been sweating and fighting all day.

After that, I snapped out of my semi-trance and found myself in a whirl of music, laughter, shouting (both drunken and sober) and bawdy songs about the wedding night. These put a sick, hollow sort of feeling in my stomach as I tried not to think about what would happen after the feast. Just when I thought I couldn't stand it anymore, Eomer tugged me to my feet and led me out of the hall.

"Would you like to retire to my—our—rooms? You look pale... I could have some wine or tea brought up..."

I smiled shakily. "That—that would be nice. The tea, I mean. And the...the retiring part..." I swallowed and closed my eyes against the tears that suddenly sprang to my eyes.

Eomer beckoned a servant and gave her instructions, then took my arm gently and led me toward his rooms, which lay in a section of Meduseld where I'd never been before. I desperately wished for my bubble to come back. There was a lump in my throat and I felt like my stomach was going drop out of my butt. I wasn't ready for this, I thought frantically as Eomer opened a door and ushered me in.

Eomer's room was very...Eomer. The tapestries on the wall depicted mounted warriors or wild horses. Thankfully, there was a window (in the morning I would see that, where my window gave a view of the city, his showed only open grasslands and distant mountains). There was very little furniture: a couple of chests, a table, two chairs...very Spartan.

"Your things will be moved in here tomorrow," Eomer told me, misinterpreting my silent scrutiny of the room. He motioned for me to sit and I did so hesitantly. "I'm sorry for stealing you away so early, but I thought that perhaps you would want to skip the bedding ceremony."

I stared at him. "Bedding ceremony?"

"It is customary for the guests to...escort the bride and groom to their bed chambers after the feast," Eomer explained.

"No doubt with plenty of bawdy songs and crude jokes," I snorted.

"Naturally," Eomer said dryly.

"Well, thank you," I said gratefully, both to him and to the maid who brought my usual cup of tea and a goblet of wine for Eomer. I sipped my tea and looked down nervously. "Eomer...I—I've never--"

"Don't worry," he said, taking my hand. "Sky, look at me."

I looked at him miserably, fighting back tears. "But I don't know what—I've never--"

"Sky," he interrupted with a smile. "You swore to trust me, remember? And I swore to take care of you. It will be alright, I promise."

Biting my lip, I nodded and rose. I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

"Well, then, my lord, let's see about that heir of yours."