A/N: please review--pretty please?

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Aragorn and his company left the next day and Theoden and Eomer left with the army a few days later to make camp closer to Gondor and wait for the rest of Rohan's forces. The day before they left, I overheard part of a spectacular argument between Theoden and Eowyn about whether she could fight or not. I, personally, thought that it was silly not to let her (she was a better fighter than many of the men), but I was glad that she was staying with me. When we bade them farewell, however, she didn't seem the least bit disappointed. She was positively cheerful.

After they had gone, Eowyn and I went for a ride.

"I thought you'd still be grumpy this morning," I commented casually.

"Why should I be?" she laughed. "We'll be joining them in a few days."

"I thought that might—wait a minute, we?" I demanded. "Who says I'm going to do anything?"

"You don't want to?" Eowyn asked, shocked. "But you fought wonderfully at Edoras."

"Yeah, and that was quite enough fighting for me, thank you," I said.

"Then why do you practice every day?" she retorted.

"To stay in shape and to know that I can defend myself," I shot back. "But I have no desire to go looking for people to kill." I smirked. "And I suppose this has nothing at all to do with a certain Ranger, does it?"

Eowyn stared at me in shock. "How did you--"

"Oh, please," I scoffed. "I'm not blind. You follow him about like a lost puppy."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Do—oh, Sky, stop it and listen to me. You could make a difference—you'd be helping to destroy the greatest evil in Middle Earth!" Eowyn cried.

"I doubt I'd make that much difference," I said dismissively. "And anyway, Eomer will kill me himself if I don't get myself killed in battle."

"Nonsense," Eowyn said, flapping a hand impatiently. "And, anyway, you wouldn't be able to handle being alone here. Think about it—even Eamon and Tholren will be gone. You'll have no one but housewives who won't speak unless spoken to and won't even look you in the eye. You're royalty, Sky, and, to most people, royals aren't real people."

I thought about this for a few long moments, then cursed. "You are a horrible, horrible person and, if we get caught, I am blaming it entirely on you."

How, exactly, we got out without being seen, I don't know. Eowyn must have slipped something in the guards' drinks or something, because we didn't see anyone as the three of us slipped out of the gates and into the night. Yes, the three of us. Merry was riding in front of Eowyn, half covered by her cloak.

"So," Eowyn said as we made camp a good distance away from the fortress. "Who are you?"

"Sighere," I grumbled.

"From where?"

"Drustan, near the Misty Mountains," I sighed.

"And who am I?"

"My brother, Dernhelm."

"Very good," Eowyn said, smirking. "Hopefully you won't even have to say that much. I plan on telling whoever asks that you were hit on the head as a child and it addled your wits."

"Thanks so much," I grunted, and lay down to sleep. "I can't imagine why you wanted to come, Merry."

"I want to help," Merry said simply. "I can do my part, even if I'm small."

"Spoken like a true warrior," Eowyn said proudly, giving me a look.

"Don't look at me like that," I said crossly. "I'm no warrior. I've never claimed to be anything but a lost little girl. Everyone I care about is going to be in this bloody fight and if it weren't for that, I'd be perfectly happy to sit at home and wait. Now, leave me alone and let me sleep."

The next morning I woke up and hurried off into the bushes to throw up. I sighed. I'd thought after the last few days that my post concussion stuff had gone away completely. But, apparently, no such luck. I sometimes found myself clutching the saddle and panting that day and was profusely thankful when we arrived at the encampment. I was surprised at the lack of scrutiny we received. We gave our false names and they just waved us through.

"That was easy enough," I muttered as we set up our tent.

"Shh," Eowyn whispered. "You can't let anyone hear you talk. Your accent will give you away."

"Sorry," I whispered back.

I threw up again that night and nearly fell from the saddle the next day when we set out, but no one seemed to notice. We rode for two days and stopped again to wait for more troops. To stay out of the way, Eowyn and I hunted and gave two rabbits to the quartermaster, keeping one for ourselves.

"Eowyn," I muttered when we were inside our tent. "Have you ever gone skinny dipping?"

"Have I ever gone what?"

"Have you ever bathed in a lake. You know, gone swimming."

"I've bathed in the stream near Edoras, but I don't know how to swim," she told me.

"D'you want to learn?" I asked, grinning mischievously.

"What, now?"

"Sure," I said. "There was a lovely little pond not too far but not within earshot.""Sky, that's mad," Eowyn hissed. "Weren't you the one moaning about how we were going to be caught? And besides, the water will be freezing!"

"Coward," I shot at her, grinning.

I knew she wouldn't take that one lying down. Twenty minutes later, we were at the pond and Merry was standing guard a few yards away. I stripped off my clothes and was glad that it was an abnormally warm night. Without hesitating, I dove right in. The pond was deep and rocky and had barely any weeds. It was wonderful. Freezing, but wonderful.

"You're insane," Eowyn whispered. "Completely insane."

"Come on in," I goaded her. "You're not afraid."

"No, but I can't swim," she pointed out ruefully.

"You can hold on to the rock," I said firmly. "Now, get your ass in here."

"I don't quite understand what you see in this," she said, teeth chattering.

"I felt dirty," I told her. "And I like to swim."

After fifteen minutes in which Eowyn learned how to tread water and we both nearly caught pneumonia, we were heading back for our tent. Merry suddenly stopped us and hissed, "Someone's coming."

"Put your blanket around you like a cloak," I whispered urgently. "Make a hood for yourself."

The soldier, thankfully, was quite drunk and apparently thought we were camp-followers. I talked us out of it and got Eowyn back by telling him that she kept her hood up because she got a potful of boiling water in the face as a child which had left her horribly disfigured.

"That was uncalled for," Eowyn said grumpily as we got ready for bed.

"Hey, if I'm addled, you can be disfigured," I retorted. "He won't remember in the morning, anyway."

I went to bed feeling clean and pretty good. I could almost forget that I was riding to almost certain death. Could almost forget that Eomer might die as well. Almost.

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We left early the next morning and rode all day. Even after all the riding I'd been doing since coming to Rohan, I was sore and was grateful that I wasn't expected to say anything as the rest of the men talked and laughed around the fire. Drinks went around as toast after toast was made. To the King, to Eomer, to this soldier and that, to Eowyn and to "the Skylark". At first I was confused, then Eowyn shot me an amused glance and I realized they were talking about me. When we were in our tent, Eowyn explained that folk had been calling me that for weeks. Apparently word had spread.

I was shocked to hear that we were expected to reach our destination the following afternoon. I was so surprised that I could barely wait to get into the trees to throw up. Actually, the throwing up thing was a coincidence. But I was very surprised and not at all pleased with the news. I didn't sleep well (if at all) and woke up feeling like I'd been trampled by a heard of wild horses. Not the best way to go into battle.

That afternoon, I nearly pissed myself as we came over a rise and saw the battle spread below us. It made the fight I'd been in look like a play fight between kittens. There were orcs and men and weird looking elephants stomping around while archers shot from their backs. I'm no military expert, but it seemed to me that Gondor was definitely not winning.

I took my spear in my hands, knowing that my knives would be pretty useless on horseback. I felt sick and weak. Fortunately enough, however, I'd thrown up a couple of hours ago and so had nothing in my stomach. Before I knew what was happening, I was caught up in a sea of horses surging down the hill and slamming into the enemy army from the side like a huge hammer.

It wasn't long before I was knocked from Liadan's back. I lost her in the mess and prayed that no one would hurt her, by accident or for spite. I moved as if in a trance, without thought—or rather, with one thought: get them before they get me. I didn't hear or see anything but the opponent in front of me. Somehow my spear disappeared and I was fighting with only knives. And then, suddenly, there was an elephant charging toward me. The orc I'd been fighting squealed and threw himself out of the way. I tried to get up, but something was wrong with my leg. So, I did the only thing I could: I sang.

Now, before you scream at me, let me explain. I'm a soprano. To be more specific, a coloratura soprano. I can hit notes that could make a dog's ears bleed. I sang (more like screamed) out the highest note I could as loud as I could and it did the trick. The elephant went haywire, throwing its rider and going on a rampage back through the enemy ranks.

I struggled to my feet in the momentary lull and looked down. My right leg was covered in blood, but that wasn't what had prevented me from standing. My right ankle was twisted badly—probably sprained. Somehow, a small parted of me was relieved—I jump off my left foot. It's weird what you can think of when faced with a life-or-death situation.

I looked around for a likely looking elephant. I had a plan. A really dumb, reckless, stupid plan, but a plan nonetheless. I found one and hobbled over, ignoring the fighting that was picking up around me. I'd noticed that the elephants had dangling ropes on either side of the saddle thing perched on top. I guessed that it was for the rider to get off in a hurry. I doubted anyone thought it could be used for getting on the elephant.

The end dangled two or three feet above my head, but I could get it if I made a halfway decent jump. If I was lucky, my ankle would hold up for said halfway decent jump. And I only had one shot. I broke into a wobbly, lurching run and threw myself up, snatching at the rope. I had it! Now I had to pull myself up. That proved to be more difficult. The muscles in my arms were on the verge of tearing. I tried using my legs, but my ankle made it difficult.

When I finally made it to the top, I was panting and trembly and had barely enough strength to push the rider off. It wouldn't have been difficult, normally; he wasn't looking and hardly expected to be shoved from the side. I lay on top of the elephant for a few minutes and then pulled my bow off my shoulders and started shooting. When I ran out of arrows, I looked around, wondering what to do.

Something caught my eye. Looking more closely, I saw Eowyn without her helmet spit on something huge and nasty at her feet. Then she swayed and toppled over.

"Eowyn!" I cried, and slid down the rope. Crying out as my ankle jarred against the ground, I dragged myself over to where she lay. "Eowyn, say something!"

"Heard you..." she said, smiling weakly. "The oliphont..."

"Hang in there," I said desperately. I saw Merry struggling to his feet nearby. "Merry! Are you alright?"

"That depends," he panted. "On what you consider to be 'alright'. The term's rather relative, when you stop to think about it."

"Can you help me get her into the city?" I asked.

"I think so," he replied as I ripped off about half my shirt to make a bandage.

Eowyn had an ugly looking wound that curved down her side and into her thigh. It looked like she was losing a lot of blood. I'd read somewhere that you're not supposed to move someone if they're bleeding, but if we didn't get her help soon, she'd die.

"Get her head," I grunted. "I'll get her feet—keep the blood near her heart."

Together we hauled Eowyn toward the city. No one payed any attention to us—something was happening near the river. When we finally reached the city, we were both about to collapse. I banged on the huge door and yelled as loud as I could that Eowyn of Rohan needed help right now and would they get their sorry asses out here to give it to her?

A group of women rushed forward and took her from us. One stayed behind to help us out. She gave us water and did a quick bandaging job on my leg and burned hands (from sliding down the rope) and Merry's arm.

"It'll hold till we get to the Houses of Healing," she said. "Have you names, lads?"

"Oh," I said woozily, taking of my helmet. "I'm not a lad—I'm Sky. That's Merry."

"I thought you were a bit small," she commented, but didn't say anything else about my being a girl, but frowned and felt my forehead. "Hmm, you've got a fever. My name is Toury."

Suddenly I stopped.

"Something wrong, lass?" Toury asked, looking at me worriedly.

"I—I--" I couldn't get the words out. I sagged against the wall as a horrible pain struck me in the belly. It was like the worst menstrual cramps I'd ever had in my life. I looked down and saw bright red blood spreading down my pants. Oh, my, I thought woozily. How embarrassing. But something wasn't right. Why was I so dizzy? Dimly I heard Toury calling for help and then lost track of things for a time.

When I woke up, I was in a clean bed with white sheets and wearing a clean white nightgown. My leg was wrapped in clean white bandages Toury was bending over me with a cool cloth. I vaguely remembered images of people dying and Eomer—was he one of them? She smiled when I opened my eyes and took my hand.

"Tis sorry I am, my lady," she said.

"For what?" I croaked, and cleared my throat. I felt kind of woozy and disoriented. Feverish. "And why are you calling me 'lady', now? You called me Sky before."

"Merry has informed that you are Eomer King's wife," Toury told me.

"What? But Eomer's not king yet..." I looked at her sorrowful face and realized what must have happened. "Oh, no..."

"And to have lost the baby as well," Toury murmured with a sigh.

"Baby? Whose baby?" Toury looked at me like she wasn't sure if I was serious. I felt faint. "I was pregnant?"

"How could you not have realized, silly lass?" Toury said severely. "At the very least you should have thought of it when you didn't bleed."

"But—I don't bleed every month—I run too much," I said weakly. "Normally I get it every two or three months, if that."

"Then what of the dizziness and vomiting?" Toury demanded.

"I was hit on the head...I thought it was because of that." I flopped back upon the pillows. "I was pregnant. Oh, my God. What's Eomer going to say?" Suddenly I shot back up and winced at the pain this movement brought. "Eomer—is he—is he alright?"

"Quite alright, unless he's done something to himself in the two hours since he was here last." Toury said with a smile. "I've sent someone to fetch him."

"What about Eowyn? She looked pretty bad..."

"She's alright," Toury assured me. "The King healed her and Faramir. She's sleeping now."

"Wait, which King? I'm getting confused," I groaned.

"Why, Aragorn, of course," she said. "Silly thing."

Huh. Aragorn always did strike me as regal. Speaking of royalty... "Was—was Eomer very angry?"

"About what? Seeing you here?" Toury asked. "Like a madman. But don't worry, lassie, tis only because he was worried about you."

"Did you tell him about...you know..."

"Nay, I told him you had a fever," Toury said. "Which you do. And I thought that you'd best tell him yourself."

"Oh," I said, face falling.

"You'll be fine, my little lady." Toury smiled and patted my knee as Eomer hurried in.

Eomer hastily sat in Toury's vacated chair and took my hand. "Sky, are you alright? I mean, do you feel alright—they said you were fine, but...what? What's wrong?"

I looked down, trying to compose my features, then looked back up miserably. "I'm sorry...I didn't know—and I would have been alone if I'd stayed behind--"

"Didn't know what?" Eomer asked in confusion. "Sky, I'm not angry with you. I'm just happy to know you're alive."

For some reason knowing that he wasn't angry broke me down. My body might have rested, but my mind was still exhausted from everything that had happened. I began to cry and babble incoherently. Eomer, looking alarmed and extremely confused, tentatively wrapped his arms around me and didn't let go until the waterworks were finished.

"Would you care to repeat some of that in an order I can understand?" he asked dryly. "I heard a lot of 'I'm sorry' and 'I didn't know' and something about bleeding and vomiting and dizziness but not much else."

"I was pregnant," I whispered. "It never even occurred to me. I thought I was dizzy because of getting hit in the head."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Eomer said uncomfortably. "But doesn't the—the bleeding stop?"

"Yes, but I rarely bleed anyway, so I didn't notice," I explained. "You're not angry?"

"Of course not," Eomer said, hugging me tightly. "A bit disappointed, I suppose, but right now I'm still caught up in the fact that you're alive."

"Likewise," I said with a crooked smile. "I was so afraid you'd die. I had dreams about it."

"I must say I had very little of those sort of thoughts, knowing that you were safe at Dunharrow," Eomer said teasingly. "Or so I thought, anyway."

"If I'd stayed behind I would have gone mad," I said lying back against the pillows. "And there'd be no one to keep me sane. You and Eowyn are the best friends I have and you would both be gone." I closed my eyes. "You're my best friend, Eomer."

"As you are mine," Eomer said, placing a chaste kiss on my forehead and standing up to go.

As I snuggled into the warm blankets, I fell asleep feeling like something was missing.