It was late when Lisswyn slipped into the weaving room the following evening. Using the candle she'd brought with her, she lit the ones in the room, then stood back and surveyed the bolts of cloth, a soft smile on her face. It was time to begin thinking about her bridal gown.

Although there was some lovely wool waiting to be spun, she turned from it back to the shelves of ready cloth. There was no time to spin, no matter how good the yarn. She would have to use some of the cloth already woven.

What did a royal wedding dress look like? The smile slipped, was replaced by a frown as she walked over to where the material rested in shelves along the wall, and began gently touching some of the bolts. Certainly, such a dress should be particularly fine…but it seemed wrong, somehow, to go to the excess with it when there were so many people in Edoras with hardly any clothing at all. But simple could be beautiful if done correctly and with the right material.

She glanced consideringly at the silk she'd noticed the first time she'd been in the room. But no, that must surely be for Eowyn's dress, for when she married Faramir.

Thoughts of Eowyn brought the smile back, along with a rush of gratitude for the woman who would become her sister. Lisswyn had known that the amount of effort in planning a royal wedding would be overwhelming; even so, she'd underestimated just how much there would be to do, particularly now, when the city was being rebuilt. But Eowyn just plowed forward, seeming to think of everything. Assisting with the wedding was going to limit the other woman's time to spend with Faramir, which only increased Lisswyn's gratitude.

At least the people of Edoras were enthusiastic about the wedding, even if it did mean a great deal more that would have to be done before the harvest festival. Eomer had made the announcement the night before, and a thrill went through her at the memory of how he'd looked on the dais, the expression on his face when he'd held out his hand to her, indicating she should join him. He'd started by sharing the Gondorians' offer to help rebuild the city, a good thing, she thought, because it made clear that he wasn't putting the wedding ahead of the needs of the people.

The gratitude and relief in the room had been tangible, and had seemed to lead easily to cheers, excitement and enthusiasm when he'd shared their betrothal and the wedding plans. Excitement and enthusiasm, but no surprise. Most of the city had already known of what had happened with Hunlaf, thanks to the members of Royal Guard – who were also making it clear they approved of the King's choice of a bride.

That helped, because his guards were much looked up to among the citizens of the Riddermark.

Many people had taken the time to tell her how glad they were she was to be their queen, and had certainly seemed sincere enough while doing so. Even so, not everyone had been pleased by the announcement, and while she wasn't surprised by that, Lisswyn wasn't sure what to do about it, if anything. Others, like Elfhelm's sister, Wynne, seemed to still be making up their minds about her. But that was fine, and only fair. And perhaps it was enough that most of the leaders of the Riddermark seemed to approve of her.

More surprising than the extremes of people who either obviously approved or obviously didn't was the coolness she'd detected from a few people who'd been nothing but warm and welcoming earlier. It wasn't disapproval, nor unfriendliness. Just a …hesitation that hadn't been there before.

It wasn't that the change surprised her – she'd known her relationships would change. It only made sense. But how did you have a relationship, a friendship, with someone despite that reserve? Another question for Eowyn, she supposed.

And they were all calling her 'my lady.' Appropriate, of course, but she kept looking around for Eowyn when they did.

If she was honest, of greater concern to her than the disapproval of some of the inhabitants of Edoras was the reaction of her closest friends to the announcement. Hilde was Hilde, and it was difficult to imagine anything changing between them. But Brecka, Liffild and some of the other women from the caves…something was going on there, but she couldn't imagine what it was. Of all people, why would they be aloof toward her – polite, but reserved? Why weren't they happy for her?

Troubled, she shook her head. Perhaps she was imagining things. Turning back to the cloth, she began to examine it more carefully. Eomer would probably wear green with gold or white trim – the colors of the Mark. What if she reversed it, and wore gold or white, with green trim?

Absorbed in the thought, she started when she heard the door open behind her. Turning, she gave an unsteady laugh when she saw Eowyn standing there. "You startled me."

"I thought I might find you down here." She glanced at the bolts of cloth Lisswyn had pulled out. "Why not use the silk?"

Tempted by the colors, Lisswyn walked over, touched the bolts of silk. She'd never worked with anything so lovely before. But she shook her head, looked back at Eowyn. "This must surely be for your gown."

"Yes, and – unfortunately – there is still plenty of time to acquire more for me, since there are months yet before my wedding." Her voice was dry, amused. "Use it. Please."

Lisswyn grinned at the other woman's tone then pulled out the cloth, placed it on a nearby table. "Thank you. It is lovely material. I'll enjoy working with it."

"Lisswyn."

There was now a warning note in Eowyn's voice, though she spoke gently, and Lisswyn looked up, confused.

"If you make the dress yourself, you'll offend the other dressmakers in Edoras, something you can not afford to do." The words were bluntly spoken though there was compassion in her eyes.

Not make the dress herself? Stunned, dismayed, Lisswyn stared down at the fabric, tried to understand.

"It will be a great honor for them to be able to say they made the new queen's bridal gown." Eowyn spoke gently. "Doing so will also increase their business. If you deprive them of that opportunity, they will not thank you for it."

"I see." Having been a weaver and dressmaker, she did see. But she had to swallow against tears that unexpectedly wanted to come. "You're right, of course. I should have thought of that. It's just…"

"Just what?"

"Ever since I was a child first learning the craft, I dreamed of some day making the dress I'd wear at my wedding, seeing it as a gift of sorts for the man I loved." She managed a weak, wry grin. "Even during the years when it seemed unlikely there would ever be a wedding, let alone to a man I loved, that dream was still there." She cleared her throat. "But you're right, and I should have thought of that, should have thought of the other dressmakers."

Eowyn said nothing, walked over to look at the silk. After a moment, she spoke again, a speculative note in her voice. "There's a lot of material here."

Puzzled, Lisswyn waited for her to continue.

The other woman gave her a mischievous grin. "I would think there would be plenty for the weavers to make you a splendid dress for the wedding itself, and for you to be able to make a lovely nightgown that only my brother would see."

It took a moment to understand what Eowyn was suggesting, and when she did, Lisswyn had to swallow before saying, "There would be." Touched and thrilled at the idea, she struggled to find something else to say, but Eowyn didn't seem to expect more of a response.

"Also, since the dressmakers know of your skill in this area, they will expect you to be involved in the design of the dress. It is not the same as making it yourself, I know," she added quietly. "But you will still be able to be involved."

"Doing all I can to help build their business is important," Lisswyn's voice was firm. "I'll work with them in designing the dress, but will allow them a free hand with it, to demonstrate my trust in them. And I'll please myself with a dress for the wedding night."

Eowyn laughed. "That's the spirit."

With a sigh, Lisswyn leaned against the table. "How many more missteps do you think I'll make?"

Eowyn shook her head. "It's not really a misstep. The dressmakers would have let you know fairly quickly they were unhappy with you." Her gaze sharpened. "Second thoughts?"

"About marrying your brother? No. None," Lisswyn said firmly. "About being queen…?"

"I've not seen him this happy since before our father died."

Lisswyn's head jerked up at the soft words.

"Even with all the problems still facing us, he's laughed more today than I think he has in years upon years. Others see it as well – even Elfhelm commented on it. Do not let the difficulties of becoming queen blind you to that." There was almost a begging note in Eowyn's voice.

Moved, both by what she was hearing and Eowyn's obvious love for Eomer, Lisswyn struggled for a response. But his sister was not the only one to love him. "Never," she finally said. "Never would I allow the challenges of being queen to weaken my love for him. But if I do the wrong thing as queen, that could hurt him in a different way." She turned, paced around the room. "There's so much I don't know, don't understand. And there are those who are just waiting for me to fail, to fall, to do something wrong. And then there are…" her voice faltered.

"What?"

"My friends, from the caves." It hurt to say the words. "I knew Alfild and her cronies would be furious at our betrothal, but I thought my friends…" She shook her head. "Never mind. I'll figure it all out." Forcing a smile, she added, "You know, it would help if anyone in our generation actually knew what a queen of the Riddermark was supposed to do."

Eowyn stared at her, then laughed. "That's true. We've not had a queen since well before you and I were born, due to my uncle never remarrying. And that does make it harder, doesn't it?" Her expression turned thoughtful. "But it also makes it easier, in a way. If there is nothing to guide you, there are also fewer expectations to live up to. You can find your own way." She paused, appeared to consider her words carefully. "Let your compassion lead you. As I said, eventually it would have occurred to you on your own that allowing the other dressmakers to make your bridal gown would help them. Your supporters always speak first of your compassion and willingness to help. Rely on that, and you'll find your way."

Once again, Lisswyn struggled to speak around the knot in her throat. Finally giving up, she simply nodded.

"As to your friends…"

Eowyn sounded thoughtful, and hope nudged inside her as she waited for the other woman to finish.

"Has it occurred to you that they're being cool toward you because they're waiting for you to set the tone, to show them that you still need and desire their friendship?"

No. No, it hadn't occurred to her, and Lisswyn felt a bit foolish that it hadn't. She shook her head.

"Give it time, give them time." Eowyn turned, wandered around the room, as if deep in thought. "I was thinking…you will need attendants, women to help you, to support you, especially once I'm gone. And perhaps Brecka, Liffild and Ceolwyn could fill some of those roles."

"Including Ceolwyn would make it clear I wasn't limiting my ladies-in-waiting to just my friends from the caves."

"Exactly."

Feeling lighter and more hopeful about being queen than she had all day, Lisswyn smiled. "Although I know it's selfish of me, I'm glad there are still many months before your wedding."

Eowyn snorted. "I may make you regret saying that as the wedding gets closer and I'm separated for months on end from Faramir," she said with a grin.

It was a gray, overcast day when the new gates were hung five days after Lisswyn's rescue from Hunlaf, but the dismal weather did nothing to dampen the moods of either the men who were helping to lift the gates into place, or of those who watched. A loud cheer went up when the gates swung closed for the first time, and Eomer, looking around at the Gondorian soldiers mingled with the people of Edoras, laughed aloud before glancing at the man standing next to him. "As happy as my people were to know your men were camped outside helping to provide security for the city, they're apparently happier still to have the gates back."

"I don't blame them," Imrahil responded with a chuckle. "After all, the gates will be here long after we've returned south."

Another shout went up, this time behind them, and they turned. Eomer automatically tensed when he saw people pointing at the dust clouds in the north, until he, too, saw and understood what his people were seeing – the King of Gondor's standard. Aragorn was returning from his survey.

Eomer once again stood on the sidelines of the great hall, enjoying the warmth and cheer flowing around him, as his people had used Aragorn's return from the north as a reason to celebrate. They were finding many reasons for such celebrations these days, and that cheered him. It was good to see them happy, equally good to see them optimistic about the future.

He saw Lisswyn across the room talking with Ceolwyn and Eothain, and enjoyed knowing that no one would be surprised that his eyes were on her. The captain of his guard had his arm around his wife in a public display of affection that was unusual for him, and was smiling at something Lisswyn had said. Eothain's approval of Lisswyn had only grown after learning of the care she had given his family during the sickness, and he'd been unstinting in voicing it. Although Eomer was aware there were those who didn't approve of his choice for queen, she had many influential supporters.

Aragorn walked up to stand next to him, and Eomer turned, smiled. They'd spent much of the afternoon discussing what the other man had found, and while there was yet some things to be worked out, most of what Aragorn had shared had been encouraging. Though there were villages that had suffered under the orcs, there appeared to be no additional bands of the creatures roving around causing trouble, nor did the Dunlendings seem to be being particularly active.

Aragorn followed where his gaze had been, then looked back at him, a smile tugging at his mouth. "I have not yet had time to congratulate you on your betrothal."

There was something there, something in the other man's eyes that Eomer could not quite follow. A bit of a private joke, perhaps.

And then he understood. "I was right. That was why you sent for both Imrahil and Faramir. So I could have the conversations I needed to have with both of them concerning Lisswyn."

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "You were being attacked by orcs. Was it so unreasonable of me to send for backup?"

Eomer choked with laughter, wondered what the people of Gondor would make of the knowledge that their king had a tendency towards matchmaking.

Before he could comment, though, Aragorn continued, "The fact that you had personal reasons for wanting to see both of them was entirely beside the point."

Eomer shook his head, still grinning. "Naturally. Still, I thank you, though."

"I am truly happy for you, my friend." Aragorn turned thoughtful. "She will make a fine queen. From what I'm hearing, most of your people see that, and even some of those who might have withheld judgment are seeing your happiness, and that is enough for them to be willing to give her their support."

"So Eowyn is telling me."

"Have you thought any more about the villages in the north?"

Eomer nodded, unsurprised by the change in topic. He'd done little else but think about it since hearing Aragorn's initial report. "With the gates rehung, and the progress we've made on rebuilding this week, there's less need for quite so many men here. Even with you gone, there will still be adequate men in Edoras, both for security and rebuilding." Aragorn would be shortly be leaving again, to return to Gondor to escort his wife and some of the other Gondor nobles back to the Mark for the wedding. "I've already discussed the matter with Elfhelm. He and his men have volunteered to ride north with emergency provisions for those villages and to offer whatever assistance is necessary. It is possible, though, that since you also notified other villages and eoreds of the situation, they may have already received some help."

"Your people reach out to one another, Eomer. It is heartening to see. What of Elfhelm's arm?"

"It's still bound, but he can ride with it, and I think he needs to do something to prove he's still useful." He grinned wryly, then sobered. "I also think it might be good for him and his men to have a break from Edoras, from their grief over their fallen comrades."

Aragorn nodded, and silence fell between them. The celebratory mood in the room was increasing. Though there was still sorrow over the men who'd died in the attack, there was much to be grateful for, not the least of which were friends.

Three weeks later, Lisswyn looked up at Eowyn helplessly. "I'd love to come, Eowyn. You must know that. But there's still so much to do before the wedding. Jenna is asking for a fitting for the dress, Betta and Tille wish to discuss the food arrangements again, and—"

Frustration flickered on the other woman's face. "Eomer declared today a rest day for everyone. That includes you."

Suppressing a sigh, Lisswyn glanced out the window. The day was cool but sunny and clear, and with the majority of the rebuilding work done, Eomer had called a break. There was still much to be finished, particularly on the interior of the buildings, but the outside work was mostly complete and both the people of Edoras and the soldiers from the south were exhausted. Four weeks had passed since Hunlaf's death and except for the day the gates had been rehung, everyone in the city had been working from dawn until far after sunset in an effort to get the harvest in and Edoras rebuilt before winter. Before the harvest festival.

"The dressmakers, Betta and Tille all need a break as well," Eowyn said firmly. "If you take one, they will also. We still have nearly two weeks before the wedding, and with the exterior of the buildings finished, some of the mad pace will slow – there will be more time to concentrate on plans for the wedding and festival."

The argument about the others needing a break was a good one, and Lisswyn started to relent. It wasn't as if she didn't want to spend the day with Eomer, Eowyn and Faramir.

Pressing her advantage, Eowyn, her tone growing sharper, added, "The wedding is not more important than my brother." She rested her hands on her hips.

Startled, Lisswyn looked up. "What?"

"He needs a break, but I doubt he'll take one if you don't. More than that, he needs to see you. He's been growing increasingly unpleasant to be around, and Faramir thinks it's because he's been too busy to spend any time with you."

Lisswyn opened her mouth, closed it, uncertain of a response. It was hard not to feel a thrill of pleasure at the thought that Eomer was missing her. She had certainly missed him.

"Is planning for the wedding more important than the man you're marrying?" Eowyn's voice turned persuasive.

"Of course not. You know it's not. But that doesn't change the fact that I can't marry him in a work dress, nor can we serve people nothing but bread and apples!"

"Come for a ride and picnic with us. The preparations are progressing on time. You know that. And I'll be able to do more to help you, now that the harvest is nearly finished and the exterior of the homes are rebuilt."

"Very well. You're quite persuasive, you know," Lisswyn said with a smile.

Eowyn grinned at her. "It's not like you didn't want to come with us."

There was no response to that. The other woman was absolutely right.

By the time she followed Eowyn down the steps of Meduseld toward the stable, any lingering guilt about not spending the day working on wedding details had vanished. It was a spectacular day in late autumn, the snow-topped mountains bright against the deep blue of the sky, and the knowledge that she was going to spend the bulk of it with Eomer only increased her pleasure.

She was smiling when they reached the stables. Eoden was saddling Firefoot, while Andric held the reins of two other horses that must belong to Eowyn and Faramir. Then Eomer stepped out of the stable, and all coherent thought fled, scattered by the sight of him. She'd seen him over the past few weeks, of course, but it had almost always been at a distance. Knowing it was foolish, she still stopped and simply stared, unable to look away. He was dressed casually in a tunic and leggings rather than in his armor, and the soft material emphasized his muscles in a way the armor never could.

He turned, saw her, and the pleasure that came into his eyes had guilt prickling at how close she'd come to refusing Eowyn's request that she join them.

His gaze never left her as he walked over to join her. "I wasn't certain you'd make the time to join us."

Lisswyn reached up, laid her hand along his cheek. "I nearly spent the day working on details for the wedding, as I want it to be perfect," she admitted. "But then I realized there was something I wanted more – to spend the day with you."

His eyes darkened, and he turned his head, pressed a kiss on her palm. Then he stepped back, looked at her, and his eyes lit. "Good! You're dressed for riding."

She looked down at herself and gave a rueful laugh. Only an Eorlingas man could take so much pleasure in a woman in leggings and a tunic. She'd worn them at Eowyn's suggestion, and while they might be appropriate for a ride and picnic, there was nothing even remotely attractive about them. But before she could say so, Eoden walked up to them, Firefoot's reins in his hands.

The stallion stamped impatiently and nudged Eomer. "We're not the only ones needing a break from Edoras." Glancing around, Eomer nodded to Eowyn and Faramir, then looked back at Lisswyn. "Let's ride!"

Lisswyn bent forward, grabbed Firefoot's mane more firmly, and laughed in delight as the wind whipped her braid. Eomer was behind her, his solid chest resting against her back as he too leaned forward, his arms around her. The fact that she could feel the muscles of his thighs as he used them to both guide and encourage the horse only increased her complete awareness of him. And her pleasure.

He made a noise of frustration as Eowyn passed them again, and Lisswyn laughed at the sound, tried to choke it back as he growled in response.

Slowing Firefoot to a canter, then a walk, he sat back up, pulled Lisswyn up against him as they watched as a very smug-looking Eowyn turn her mount, ride back toward them.

"Even Firefoot can't beat you when he's carrying two people," he shouted at his sister when she was within hearing distance. "But if he'd been carrying just one of us…"

"…we would still have beaten you," Eowyn insisted, reaching down to stroke her horse's neck.

"Only in your dreams."

Laughing again at their sparring, Lisswyn said, "I could always walk for a while, to make it a fairer contest."

Eomer's arms tightened around her. "Absolutely not." Leaning down, he added in a whisper loud enough for Eowyn to hear him, "We wouldn't want to ruin Eowyn's day with a defeat."

Eowyn snorted with laughter, then together they turned their horses, started back toward where Faramir was waiting on his mount, an indulgent smile on his face.

As if in unspoken agreement, they allowed some distance to grow between them, with Eowyn and Faramir off to their left, close enough to still be in shouting distance, far enough away to allow some privacy. And well beyond them, she could see members of the royal guard.

She watched them for a few moments, and then looked up at Eomer, a troubled expression on her face.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"You'll think I'm foolish."

He frowned. "I doubt that very much, but try me and see."

Gazing off at the guards again, she said softly, "Perhaps they might have wished for a day off as well."

For a long moment, he didn't reply, and she wondered if she'd annoyed him. Then he leaned down, pressed a kiss against her hair. "Such concern is one reason you're going to make such a good queen, but in this case, it's unnecessary. They are riders who've been working night and day to rebuild the city. Trust me, the ones who came along with us are quite happy to be out here, on their mounts. But today was also a volunteer assignment. We're not going that far from Edoras, and didn't need the full guard to come along, so only those who wished to escape the city for a while are with us."

"Oh." Feeling foolish after all, she changed the topic. "What of the Dunlendings in the dungeon? What is King Elessar's counsel?" It was a question she'd wanted to ask ever since the King of Gondor's return from the north several weeks prior.

Eomer's reply was slow, thoughtful. "He recommended having Elfhelm and his eored escort them home after the harvest—"

Her sigh of relief escaped before she could stop it, and he looked down, his arms still tight around her. "You've not been frightened, knowing they were in Meduseld? There was no possible way they could harm you."

Hearing the concern in his voice, she was quick to shake her head. "No, it's not that." She hesitated. "Perhaps it's weak of me, but I'm glad it's not you who are escorting them." Touching his cheek, she added, "I know the day will come when you will need to leave Edoras, even ride into battle." She tried, could not quite prevent a shudder at the thought. "I'm just glad it will not be now."

He nuzzled her cheek before responding. "I did not want to leave you so soon after the wedding," he admitted, "but beyond that, Aragorn believes it is actually better than I not be the one to take them. He thinks it will be greater indication of our strength to the Dunlendings if I send them with someone else rather than going myself."

"You don't sound sure of that."

"I'm not." He paused. "I trust Aragorn, trust his instincts. And I understand what he is saying – that given Dunlending culture, they might well have more respect for me if I don't go, if I send someone else. But at the same time, I can't help but wonder if a face-to-face meeting with them might work some good."

Lisswyn didn't reply immediately. She understood his concern, but didn't know how to respond. The desire to be a good queen, to help him make the best possible choices for the Riddermark, was at odds with the longing to tell him that King Elessar was right, that he should stay safely in Edoras – not because it was necessarily the best choice he could make as king, but because she didn't want him to leave.

"You must always do what you believe to be right," she finally said, "or you'll begin to feel like you're not the one really ruling the Mark. And if you begin to doubt yourself, others will as well. If you truly believe it might accomplish more if you met with the Dunlendings, you should go. At the same time…"

"Yes?"

"Eowyn has told me that King Elessar is older than he appears, and has spent many years traveling throughout these lands."

"That's correct. He rode with our grandfather, actually, and knew my uncle as a boy. Why?"

"…then perhaps you should listen to what he says about the Dunlendings," she ended quietly.

"If one is fortunate enough to have the returned King of Gondor as a friend and advisor, one should listen to him?" his voice was dry, amused.

Lisswyn looked up at him. "Something like that."

He leaned down, brushed her lips with a kiss. "I believe that to be good advice as well, and shall heed it."

She settled back against him again, and a comfortable silence fell between them.

They'd had so few moments like this, where they could simply enjoy being together. She hadn't realized until now just how much she'd needed it, needed to see him. To spend time with him.

Being with him, surrounded by him – his arms, his scent – it all seemed so simple. It was easy to remember why she'd agreed to marry him.

To be queen of the Riddermark.

Because she loved him so much she ached from it, because the thought of living without him was unbearable. Because when she was with him, it was easy to imagine it working out, easy to imagine being a successful queen.

But when she wasn't seeing him, wasn't spending time with him, all she could see were the problems. The questions. The disapproving looks from some of the women of the court. In all innocence, Brynwyn had told her of overhearing two of the women speculating on why Eomer had chosen Lisswyn when he could have married Lothiriel of Dol Amroth.

It wasn't that she was surprised by being the subject of so much gossip and speculation. She'd expected that, had understood that it was part of the price she'd pay, for the rest of her life, for being with Eomer. But facing it when she hadn't actually seen the man in weeks had been harder than she'd anticipated.

Lisswyn sighed, moved her hand to link her fingers with the hand he had around her waist. In just over two weeks, they'd be married, and while there would no doubt continue to be gossip and problems of all kinds, she'd at least be able to see him on a regular basis.

In the meantime, there was today. She forced her thoughts away from anything except the pleasure of being with him. "Where, exactly, are we going?" Her question broke the quiet.

He pointed ahead of them, to the right. "See those trees, running along the foot of the mountain?" At her nod, he continued, "there's an open area in the middle of them, next to where a small stream feeds a waterfall. We'll picnic there."

Lisswyn stretched her legs out in front of her and took another bite of the bread and cheese they'd enjoyed for their meal. Eomer sat next to her, while Eowyn and Prince Faramir were across the blanket. Currently, Eomer was getting revenge on Eowyn for winning the race by telling stories of her childhood – several of which Eowyn had vehemently denied.

While hoping that Eowyn might eventually turn the tables on Eomer and start telling stories on him, Lisswyn was content simply to listen. The truth was that she still felt shy around the Prince of Ithilien. Odd, that, as she felt no such shyness around King Elessar, but perhaps that was due to the way she'd first met him, after he'd saved her life in the caves.

Silence fell, and she looked up to see the others all staring at her. Blushing, she said, "My apologies. My mind was wandering."

"We were wondering who we should go to to find out embarrassing details about your childhood, since Brynwyn is clearly too young to tattle on you." Even as he asked the question, she saw Eomer's eyes move from humor to regret as the logical answer came to his mind. "Maegwen," he said softly. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't." She leaned over, laid a finger on his lips. "She is never far from my thoughts, regardless." She looked at Eowyn and Faramir, and managed a smile. "I expect Hilde would be able to come up with all manner of embarrassing stories about my childhood, though, if you must have some."

Eomer placed his arm around her, pulled her to him, and kissed the top of her head, still by way of apology, she knew.

"There is really no one left to tell stories of my childhood, either," Faramir said, and when Lisswyn turned to him, she found him watching her with a compassionate look in his eyes.

Knowing he was thinking of his brother, she appreciated his attempt to ease the awkwardness even more, and gave him a hesitant smile in return.

Shifting away from her, Eomer stood, then reached down and pulled her up. "It is time for an after-meal walk."

Confused by the abruptness of his announcement, Lisswyn could only stare at him. "What?"

He grinned at her, then turned, pointed to the trees behind them. "I'm going to take you over there, out of sight, and kiss you breathless. Any objections?"

Blushing, she could only shake her head even as she looked over to see Faramir and Eowyn's reactions.

Faramir had also stood, and turned to give her a mischievous smile before reaching down to take Eowyn's hand and pull her to her feet. "And we," he motioned to the trees in the opposite direction from where Eomer had pointed, "will go over there."

Eowyn simply laughed, and Lisswyn grinned, then took Eomer's offered hand and followed him into the trees.

Still smiling, she shook her head. "I can't believe you simply announced that," she muttered.

"Why not?" Now in the shade, Eomer leaned against one of the trees, then turned her, pulled her to him, slid his arms around her back. "What's the point of two betrothed couples going on a picnic together if they're not going to make an opportunity to sneak off?"

"It's not exactly sneaking," she started to say, laugher in her tone, before being silenced by his mouth settling on hers.

It started out slowly, with a bare brushing of lips, then he gradually increased its intensity. Sinking into the kiss, Lisswyn slid her hands up his chest, traced the muscles of his shoulders before linking her fingers behind his neck. In some dim corner of her mind, it occurred to her that this was really only the second time he'd kissed her where they were free simply to enjoy it, with no chance of being interrupted.

But this was very different from the night he'd kissed her behind the tent on the way from the caves to Edoras. The kiss itself was different, more focused, more urgent than those other times. The hand that had been rubbing lazy circles on her back crept up beneath her braid, anchored itself in her hair.

And her feelings were different. The knowledge of what their relationship now was, the love they were free to acknowledge, changed everything.

He lifted his head for a moment to change the angle of the kiss, and she took the opportunity to nip his lip.

"Want to play like that, do you?" he murmured before leaning down to bite her earlobe.

A shudder moved through her as he lingered there, suckled for a moment. Why was it she had never known how sensitive her earlobes were? She pushed herself tighter against him, needing more of him. His body was hard against hers, and she suppressed a moan as his lips moved down her neck at the same time his other hand moved down to her waist.

Perhaps there was no part of her body not exquisitely sensitive to his touch.

He shifted, allowed his mouth to drift up her cheek to her mouth, where he once again claimed hers in a kiss of increasing urgency, an urgency Lisswyn willingly participated in.

Several long moments later, he moved again, lowering his arms and wrapping them solidly around her before muttering an oath and burying his face in her shoulder.

So close were their bodies she could feel the beat – a very fast beat – of his heart, and she could both hear and feel his attempts to catch his breath from where his head rested against her. She was still struggling to catch her own.

Finally, he eased back a bit, enough to look at her, to stroke escaped tendrils of hair away from her face. Leaning his forehead against hers, he whispered, "I love you."

"Why?" The question surprised her as much as it did him.

"What?" he stepped back, stared at her.

"Why me?"

"Why you what?"

Embarrassed, and wishing she hadn't spoken, Lisswyn looked down at her hands, empty now that he'd stepped away, and said, "Why do you love me?"

He stepped away, rubbed his face with his hands, then looked back at her. "You doubt my love for you?"

Images of him kneeling before Hunlaf came to her mind. "No! Not doubting. Just…"

"What?"

Apparently, the gossip Brynwyn had repeated had bothered her more than she'd realized. Helplessly, she looked at him, wishing again that she'd stayed silent.

"Just what?" Impatience darkened his tone, and she wondered if he'd let her change the topic. A closer look at the annoyance on his face answered that question.

"No, I've never doubted your love for me," she finally said quietly. "But not all of our people can understand why you chose me when…" her voice faltered, and she looked away.

"When what?"

"When you could have had someone who knew how to be a queen, someone who is by all accounts, nearly as beautiful as the Queen of Gondor."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked away, muttering something under his breath that she couldn't make out. Then he turned his gaze back to her, the frustration still apparent.

She went to him, cupped his cheek. "Forgive me. I should not have spoken of it. You must never think I don't trust you, or the love you have for me." She sighed. "It was just that when Brynwyn reported some gossip she'd overheard, I realized that it had never occurred to me to wonder those things. To wonder why you love me, though I never cease thinking it a miracle that you do."

He slid his arms around her, pulled her to him. There was a long silence as he appeared to struggle for a response. "Words are not my strength, Lisswyn. I could tell you all the things I admire about you, but I'm not sure it would explain why I love you and not another woman of perhaps equally admirable traits."

Embarrassed, she ducked her head against him. "I wasn't begging for compliments."

Laughing softly, he said, "I know that. But I don't know how else to answer the question." He fell silent, then said, "I think I began falling in love with you the night the Dunlendings burned your village. You were frightened out of your wits, but still managed to grab a burning branch to use as a weapon."

Still blushing, Lisswyn rubbed her cheek against his chest. "I was desperate."

His tone turned teasing. "Mmm. Or maybe it was when I awoke in the caves the first time, and found you eyeing my naked chest."

She looked up at him, mildly horrified. "You remember that?"

He grinned, and leaned down to lightly kiss her. "I do."

"I was mortified. I had no business thinking of my king that way, and even less being distracted by such things when I should have been concentrating on caring for you."

The amusement was still there, but there was tenderness in his eyes as well as he looked down at her. "How do you know that being tended by a beautiful woman who found me attractive was not essential to my recovery?"

Shaking her head, she rested against him again. "I was so frightened for you," she murmured.

"I know. And that was part of the attraction as well. You treated me as a man while remembering I was a king."

Puzzled now, she looked up at him. "But you are both."

"You'd be surprised at how many people forget the man part."

"I couldn't forget that. I'd seen your chest, remember?"

He laughed aloud, and hugged her. "And even in the caves, I saw hints of your sense of humor." He tilted her chin up. "How could I not love you?"

Tears unexpectedly came to her eyes, and she blinked them back, leaned up to kiss him.

He kissed her back, then sighed. "We should probably go round up Eowyn and Faramir, and head back to Edoras. There's a stop I want to make enroute."

Lisswyn settled back against Eomer again, content – for the moment – simply to rest against him and ponder the mystery of where they were going. They were returning to Edoras by a different route, and all he would tell her was that he had a surprise for her.

They'd been bantering back and forth, with him rather obviously enjoying teasing her about their destination, but now they'd fallen silent.

They were no longer riding as close to the mountains, and were surrounded on all sides by the waving, rolling plains, though the mountains still rose up on their left. But where could they be going? Perhaps a village? There were several within an easy day's ride of Edoras.

As she pondered the question, they topped a low rise and saw a shallow valley spread out before them. A valley filled, or so it seemed, with horses, primarily mares and the foals born the previous spring. "Oh! Aren't they lovely?" she cried.

She felt him kiss the top of her head. "I thought you'd enjoy seeing one of the herds. This is one of two that are based near Edoras."

Firefoot shifted suddenly, and snorted, and Lisswyn, startled, looked up at Eomer.

He grinned. "Firefoot has sired several of these foals. He recognizes the mares."

"Ah." She returned his grin, understanding, then turned to resume watching the horses.

For the most part, they appeared undisturbed by the appearance of riders. Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned her head, watched as a rider started toward them, a younger rider following him.

When he reached them, he dismounted and tossed the reins to the other rider before turning and bowing.

"My lord," he smiled, then turned, greeted Eowyn and Faramir as well. "We've been expecting you."

Eomer dismounted, then reached up, helped Lisswyn down before turning and clasping the other man's arm. "Freahelm. It's good to see you."

"You, as well, sire. We were relieved to hear of the defeat of the orcs." His eyes reflected distress. "I'm sorry we were too far away to come to the aid of the city when it was attacked."

Eomer shook his head. "You are charged with the protection of the herd, Freahelm. That is no small thing."

The other man cleared his throat. "That's as it may well be, but still, if we'd been closer, I could have sent a few of my men to help." He sighed, and then his gaze turned to Lisswyn.

Eomer turned to her as well, and smiled. "Freahelm, this is my lady, Lisswyn."

A thrill went through her at his words, as she'd never heard him refer to her that way before, and she flashed him a quick smile before turning to the rider.

"It's a pleasure, my lady."

Looking beyond him, to the healthy herd and the members of his extended family who were tending them, it was easy to respond. "The pleasure is mine." Curious, she looked all around, but saw no sign of shelter. "The King said you're based here, or at least near Edoras, but where do you live? I see no tents?"

"We don't travel as much as some herds, my lady." He turned, gestured behind him, toward the mountains. "There's a system of caves that are not only sufficiently large for our needs, but also big enough to stable the horses during bitter weather."

She frowned. "I see. Caves. You stay warm enough?"

His face softened. "That's right. I heard that when the King met you, you were living in caves, and barely surviving. But our situation is very different," he said gently. "Not only are we close enough to trade with Edoras for the food and clothing we need, many of the caves have natural chimneys. Both we and the horses stay quite warm during winter."

Embarrassed, Lisswyn nodded. "Of course. I should have thought of that. Forgive me."

He shook his head. "Please, don't apologize. It will mean a great deal to my missus that you thought to ask about us."

She nodded, but still feeling awkward, looked away hoping for a distraction. And saw one in the distance, in the form of a young chestnut mare, both she and the rider on her back apparently running simply for the joy of it.

"Oh, how lovely."

Beside her, she heard Freahelm let out an exasperated breath. "Forgive me, sire. That's my youngest daughter, and she's a bit strong-willed. She was determined to show the horse off to you, and my forbidding it apparently didn't deter her."

Puzzled, Lisswyn turned, looked at them. Eomer exchanged an amused look with Eowyn and Faramir, as if remembering another strong-willed young woman, then turned back to Freahelm. "The mare is beautiful, Freahelm. It's hard to blame your daughter for wanting to show her off."

They turned back to watch as the rider turned the horse toward them, and Lisswyn felt Eomer's hands come down on her shoulders from behind her. "A fine mount for a queen, don't you think?"

Startled, she looked up at him, saw the mischief in his eyes. "For me?"

Laughing softly, he said, "Are there other queens – or soon to be queens – I might be likely to give a horse to?"

Reaching up, she laid a hand over one of his, and smiled. "I hope not." Then words simply failed her. It had been years since she'd had a horse she could even ride regularly, let alone one to call her own. Moved, she squeezed his hand before turning to watch the young woman bring the mare to a halt near them, and dismount.

Instead of immediately leading the horse to them, however, she leaned against the mare's neck, and Lisswyn watched as the horse turned to nuzzle her, and understood that however much pride the young woman had in the horse, there was grief as well in parting from her.

Freahelm cleared his throat, and Lisswyn looked over at him, saw sympathy, frustration and impatience all mixed together.

"Let me," she said quietly, then walked the short distance to where the two were standing, the girl's – for Lisswyn could see now just how young she was – arms still around the horse's neck. She wished there was some easy way of sparing the girl, but to refuse the gift of the horse, even if Eomer understood, would offend Freahelm – and probably his daughter as well.

She held her hand out to the mare, and waited while the horse sniffed her, then couldn't help a soft laugh at the noise of disapproval she received when the animal discovered her hand was empty. "If I'd known, I would have brought you a carrot," she told the mare.

The girl standing next to her took a deep breath before looking up, obviously fighting tears. "She really prefers apples. The riper, the better."

"I'll remember." Lisswyn began stroking the horse's neck. "She's so beautiful. What do you call her?"

"It doesn't matter. She'll have a new name now." Her voice was still thick with tears.

"Maybe. That depends on the name," Lisswyn responded.

Startled, the girl looked up, then away. "It's a foolish name for a horse, or so my da says. But I called her Dancer." She shrugged helplessly. "She likes to dance."

As if on cue, the mare shifted, stepping back a bit, then moving forward, as if to music only she could hear. Lisswyn laughed. "So I see. I'd say Dancer is a fine name for her, then."

"You'd keep my name for her?" The girl looked simply astonished.

Lisswyn smiled. "Why not? It is perhaps unusual, but it obviously suits her." More gently, she asked, "And what is your name?"

"My name?" Flushing as she realized how foolish the question sounded, she responded, "My name is Brea, my lady."

"Brea. I take it you've trained her?"

The girl sighed. "Yes. She's the first horse my da has let me truly train from a foal, and probably the last one he'll let me near. He warned me not to get too attached to her."

"It's hard to train them well if you don't love them, Brea," Lisswyn said quietly. "And it's obvious you've done a wonderful job with her."

Despite her sadness, the girl glowed at the praise, and offered Lisswyn a shy smile. "Thank you."

"Being so close to Edoras, you must occasionally come into the city?"

Confused by the change of topic, Brea nodded. "A few times a year."

"And you know where the royal stables are?"

"Of course."

"Good. When you come to the city, and have the time, come by the stables. Ask for Master Breghelm, and tell him you'd like to see Dancer. I'll tell him to expect you."

Shock again had Brea looking up. "I can still see her?"

"Of course – why shouldn't you? While I'll take the best possible care of her, Brea, she'll remember you. It will be good for both of you to see each other once in a while."

Brea turned her face back to the horse, resumed stroking her while she obviously struggled for composure. Finally, she looked back up. "Thank you for that." Then she gave a watery smile. "I'm glad you're going to be our queen."

Lisswyn gave a weak laugh in response. "Thank you for that." Looking again at Dancer, she added, "Now, tell me anything else you'd like for me to know about her."

A/N: A very long chapter, but we're so close to the end (only another chapter or so to go) I decided not to drag things out by splitting this up.

For those who asked, the MPA's are the 'My Precious Awards' given out in LOTR fandom, and this has been nominated in two categories. I'm still thrilled beyond words.