"And you, Liomen, son of Eormis, I salute you now as one of our finest riders. None ever sat atop a horse with such grace." Theoden smiles and raises his mug, the other Rohirrim following suit. "Hail Liomen!"

I smile, and incline my head in thanks. None of them know who I truly am, I muse. "I thank you, my king," I announce in a deep voice, dropping to a knee, "but no recognition is needed for one Eorlingas. A Rider of Rohan is loyal, and fights for the one who leads him simply out of love." I move my eyes slightly, and I find Eomer's on mine, silent, yet full of depth and emotion. I love him.

"Well said," Theoden congratulates, clapping me on the shoulder. He turns to his nephew, bestowing upon him an approving nod, despite his grim countenance. "You've made a wise choice. Liomen will serve you well- I sense the bond affection between marshal and Rider is strong."

"The strongest of bonds," Eomer answers, and he and I both know that Theoden cannot even begin to guess the true depths of our relationship. What would Theoden say if he knew a woman knelt before him! What would he say, furthermore, that his nephew, the only one who knew my secret, had kept this knowledge from him for years?

What would he say if he knew said woman and said nephew were in love?

These questions enter my mind as Theoden takes my arm, hoisting me to my feet. "Still light as ever," he says with a fatherly smile. "We will need to fatten you up some, Liomen, if we are to ever find you a wife." Eomer is in the process of taking a drink, and I hear him choke on his ale at that one. "Or have you already found a girl?"

"There is no woman, my lord," I say with another smile, "that could ever tear me from my duty to my lord." Eomer seems a bit relieved as Theoden laughs.

"Well said, Rider, well said."

I receive a clap on my shoulder as the King of Rohan walks off, moving to socialize with other Riders. He moves, trying to encourage those whose hearts would fail, those who have lost hope as Aragorn and his three companions ventured into the land of the dead. Tonight, however, all are merry, taking heart in the last comforts available before our possible death.

Eomer crosses to me, offering me another mug. "I don't have to worry about a woman stealing you from me then?" he teases as I take a drink, his hand 'accidentally' brushing mine. "Or should I be afraid?"

I quaff the mug in a few moments, turning a smirk to him. "No woman, nor man, could ever hope to sway my loyalty," I assure him, pressing the cup back into his chest. His eyes fall on my lips, and I purposely lick the ale off of them. I can hear him swallow, and I nearly laugh. "Why, Eomer," I say with mock innocence, "what would your uncle say if he saw you looking like that at one of his Riders?"

"You, in the next room, now."

I laugh as Eomer steers me out, and as we leave, I feign drunkenness, pretending to be losing consciousness as he takes me up to my room. Once the door is shut, however, I stand up as his lips close passionately on mine. I lock my arms around his neck, kissing him back as his hands run the length of my back. We remain locked like this for a few moments, but when Eomer's head descends to my throat, I push him back gently.

His eyes are questioning as he looks up, tilting his head. "I thought you like having your throat kissed?"

"I do," I say, embracing him again, "And that's exactly why we have to stop. Do you have any idea what would happen if someone found us here? What would they think?"

"...Lucky prince?"

I force myself not to smile. "Eomer... Nobody knows Liomen son of Eormis is really Lyris, daughter of Eormis. We have to keep it that way- we can't take chances, not now." I hold his face in my hands, kissing the tip of his nose. "We ride for Gondor in the morning."

"Which is exactly why I need you tonight." There is something different in his tone, and I look to him, into those deep brown eyes that have for so long been my salvation. There is indeed need there, and a fear I can tell was born of no self-interest. He fears he will lose me, just as I fear I will lose him. "I love you, Lyris," he says quietly, catching my hands in his. He produces something from a pocket, and slips it on my finger, lifting it to touch his lips. "This war has been fought for a ring," he murmurs, meeting my eyes. "I hope to end it for one."

I look to the ring on my finger, and back up to him, my eyes welling slightly. "Eomer," I whisper and his lips kiss my tears. "Eomer, this means...If we live... I won't be able to fight at your side anymore.. Who will- who'll be your second? Who will support you, who will.. Who will..."

He silences me with a kiss, his hands sliding up until his thumbs are resting on the inside of my elbows. "I don't care," he says in my ear, his lips brushing against my cheek. "I don't care- all I want is you, Lyris... For the rest of my life." I can feel my resistance slip away as his arms encircle me and pull me closer. "I fight this war for you. If I lose you..."

"Eomer..."

"If I lose you, Lyris... I can't go on without you," he manages, and I can't take it anymore.

I kiss him. So many times have I heard this speech from other Riders towards their women, a bet to get what they long for, but with Eomer, it is different. He is a man of honor, one who I know would give his life for me if the occasion called for it. How many times have we begun this dance, only to stop where we are now? There have been times I've wanted to break the rules, and times he has.

Now we both want to break them.

I kiss his cheek, standing on my tiptoes to reach his ear. "If one of us loses the other... If you lose me... I want to die knowing I have loved you as much as I could," I say softly, and I feel the wetness on his face as he buries his head in my shoulder. This is hard for him, I know- it is hard for my marshal to show emotion where he has always been strong and stern, a wise leader. Now, there is only me to see him break.

"Lyris.." His eyes search mine, a worry there. "If this isn't what you..."

He is silenced as I lay a finger to his lips. My heart is beating impossibly fast; I love him so much, and I've wanted to take this step since the night we were forced into the caverns by marauding Orcs. I am twenty-three; six years I've been waiting for this. Six years have we loved each other, keeping our relationship secret. "I want this, Eomer," I tell him, pulling him gently to the bed in the corner. He sits on the edge obligingly, pulling me to him as I lean into his chest, the of us just holding each other. My fingers find the leather strip that holds his hair in place, and I tug it out, letting the mane that so reminds me of a lion cascade down his shoulders. He pulls my own wheaten locks out of their binding. He then reaches up under my shirt and pulls off the linen hiding my femininity, and I draw a breath as my lungs fill for the first time in days.

"Lyris... the door..."

I nip his ear in response. "All taken care of."

It is not long before all the other necessities are taken care of, and as we become one, I can't help but remember the first night he found out my truth.

I was a young Rider, newly accepted to the ranks. My father Eormis was wounded from battle, and my mother could no longer support them with her needlework due to a creeping illness that gnarled her hands. The family of a Rider is always provided for by the King, and in most families, a Rider has a son to enter the ranks and ensure his family's security. If the family has nothing but female descendants, they still receive a pension- so long as the Rider was either released or forced to leave due to grievous wounds.My father, unfortunately, left the service of the Eorlingas after a threat from my mother to leave if he neglected his wife and daughter anymore. For years she supported her family with her beautiful needleworking skills, an art that can be seen on the tapestries in the Golden Hall and on the King's robes. Time took its toll on her, however, and by the time I was seventeen, we were out of options and I was still unmarried.

To me, there had only been one option. I'd known much of the way of the Riders from what my father had taught me, and after binding my chest, mixing soot onto my complexion, and darkening my usually wheat-colored hair, I looked enough like a fair-faced boy to be accepted into the service, despite claims that an Elvish nature resided somewhere in my blood. I changed my name from Lyris to Liomen, and I was assigned to a younger Eomer's service. He was new to the service of a marshal, given mostly inept young ones to work with. He and I formed a fast friendship and worked quickly to turn our recruits into warriors.
It wasn't long until we had the finest fighting force in Rohan.

Then Theoden sent us to scope out the situation near the Gap- reports were that Wargs had been spotted, and Eomer led five of us, myself included, to investigate. We were ambushed by Orcs, and Eomer and I were forced to take refuge in a cave while the rest of our group headed back to Rohan. I had taken several heavy, though non-mortal hits, and Eomer- my best friend by now- insisted on treating them as I lay.

"No," I begged him as he reached to my tunic. "Please, I'll be fine, there's no need-"

We were best friends, and an uneasy tension lay between us. I loved him even then, and I grew more concerned as I came to realize just how tense he had become around me. I am compelled to note that Eomer later confessed to me that the following scene was particularly difficult for him. It is hard enough for a man to admit to having feelings for a woman, but by his own word, he had begun to have feelings for someone he thought was a man, and that was unnerving for the proud Rohirrim. I shied away from his touch, and he hesitated, but then he finally spoke.

"It's all right, Liomen," he assured me, concern in his eyes. "I'm just going to treat your wounds, but I need you to take off your shirt. That's all, I swear."

"Eomer, please, it's not that..." I got up and began to stagger away, but Eomer was adamant. I found myself suddenly tackled from behind. I struggled, but Eomer managed to pull it off, revealing the tight linen that wrapped me from my heart to my waist. The linen was gashed from Orc blows in a few places, and it had lain the linen open, revealing soft and supple skin in some places rather than a hard, firm chest. His eyes widened and I pulled away, self-consciously covering myself.

"Please," I whispered, my back to him and my voice losing the deepness I had lent to it. "You must understand... I.. I can explain."

"Liomen..." There was disbelief, hurt, and relief all in the same word. He was staring at me, and I turned to face him, wincing at the shocked expression he wore. "You're a woman," he said haltingly, eyes traveling my form. "All this time... A million signs..."

"It's Lyris," I whispered, lowering my eyes. "I'm sorry, my lord- I never meant to lie to you... I meant every word I said when I took my oaths... I just... I'd never have a chance unless..."

"Liomen- Lyris-" I looked up, and suddenly he was there, in front of me, staring into my face. "I should be furious," he said softly, his hands lightly gripping my shoulders, "but I'm not. In fact..."

"In fact what?" I asked, not daring to look away. I'd seen Eomer lose his temper with those who dared deceive him, and now I was sure I'd find out what it was like first-hand.

"In fact..." his voice was stumbling, unsure. "I want... I want to kiss you."

"What?"

"I'm sorry." He turned away, obviously having a difficult time. I touched his arm, and he turned to face me, this time our places switched. He was the unsure one, the guilty one, and I was completely bewildered. "I think I love you," he said, swallowing."I've loved you since we became best friends... even though I thought you were a man... I thought I was sick, perverted... Falling for my best friend, in love with another man... And now..." He looks to me, and I'm not sure if he's relieved or angry. "And now, I find out my worries were all for naught. I've fallen in love with a woman."

"I've loved you too." My eyes met his, and for once I knew he was looking at Lyris, not Liomen.

He stepped towards me, and instinctively I recoiled. "I just want to see you as a woman," he said quickly, and I stood my ground as he approached again. His fingers reached up to my hair, and he unbound it, letting it fall around my face. I then wiped the soot from my face and loosened the linen just enough to give me shape.

Eomer regarded me for a moment, and then his face came close to mine, and we shared our first kiss.

"Lyris..." My eyes open slightly, and I lift my head from his chest lightly. Eomer's eyes are hardly open, and I can see he's struggling to awaken. I smile and touch his cheek, meeting his lips in a kiss. Six years. And we've come such a long way.

"I love you," he says in a breathy voice, his eyes opening even more. A few hours of paradise, and the moon is still shining. His hands are on my waist, and mine softly caress his chest as I listen to him. "I want you to know that... that I mean it. None of this... None of this was purely... purely for..."

"I know." I slide up on top of him, capturing his mouth for my own, kissing him passionately enough to let him know exactly how I feel. "I love you too, Eomer," I assure him as he groans with longing. Rather than let his torture fade into content, I kiss him harder, forcing him to draw a shuddering breath. "Death may come tomorrow."

"Not for us," he whispers fiercely, and his kisses me so aggressively I half wonder if he's had a vision. I return it with equal fervor, and we submit to the force of love again.

I thought Eomer's world would collapse the day Grima Wormtongue duped Theoden into exiling his nephew.

We'd watched the king slowly decline in health as Grima increased in power. Despite the warnings Eomer and I both gave, Grima became Theoden's closest advisor, intruding even upon the deep bond Eomer and Theoden shared. We long suspected the silver-tongued snake had been bought by Saruman the White, and when Theodred went missing, we knew it.

Eomer found his body. We'd been searching for days, and then we found the remnants of battle. Uruk-Hai bodies lay everywhere, dead Eorlingas among them. Next to Eomer, and with the possible exception of Eowyn, Theodred had been my closest friend. In the last year of his life, Theodred had become the confidante of Eomer and I- imagine the prince of Rohan's shock upon walking in on his cousin and his lieutenant kissing. After much explanation- and some discreet proof- Theodred often arranged for his kinsman and friend to have a moment alone, claiming we were 'discussing options' and the like. He also became a bit of a therapist, acting with patience and amazing diplomacy whenever Eomer and I disagreed. Now, as I scanned the bodies for the face of my friend, the call of Eomer was a welcome sound.

I followed Eomer into Meduseld upon our return, both our faces grim. He was later to confess to me he had never seen me look more masculine, and in truth, I was unnerved when a few girls stopped and stared as I marched past. Upon entering, one gaze in particular worried me; that of my friend Eowyn. As I said, none but Eomer and Theodred knew my secret; unfortunately, that also meant that I was the object of a few girl's affections- Eowyn's especially. It is unnerving enough to be loved by a man when he agonizedly believes you to be a man as well; it is even worse when you are loved by a woman who mistakenly thinks you are a man.

I knelt as was expected, then rose to my feet again as Eomer presented a helm recovered from the Uruk-Hai. Eomer and I hadn't spoken since he'd found his cousin's body, and as his powerful voice spoke in quiet, but forceful tones. I could hear the storm brewing behind his calm facade, and when Grima Wormtongue raised his voice, I knew trouble was brewing.

I dared not speak as Eomer hoisted him up the wall by his collar. "How long has it been since Saruman bought you?" he hissed. "What was the promised price, Grima? That when all men are dead, you will take your share of the treasure?"

It was then Eowyn passed us, her eyes first moving to me and then to where her brother held Grima. Grima's eyes met hers a moment, and then they looked to me, but Eomer shook him. "Too long have you haunted my sister's steps," I heard him say, and I watched Eowyn leave.

Meduseld's guards moved to pull Eomer back, and I rushed to his side, ever loyal to my liege. Two other guards held me back, men I'd known my whole life. "You see much, Eomer, son of Eomen," I heard Grima announce, and I turned my eyes to him. He was holding a document, one I recognized. "Too much. You are banished forthwith from the kingdom of Rohan."

"You have no authority here!" Eomer railed, a scowl on his face as he fought those holding him. "You orders mean nothing!"

"These orders do not come from me," Grima said, smirk widening. "They come from the king. He signed it this morning."

"No!" I shouted, nearly using the voice my mother had gifted me with upon birth. No one seemed to notice however, as Eomer was dragged away. I struggled to get to his side, and I heard one of my captors ask what was to be done with me.

"Throw him in with the marshal," Grima ordered. "One is as dangerous as the other."

We were dragged down the steps of the Golden Hall and thrown to the ground outside. Hama's face was regretful, even apologetic. "You have one day to ride beyond Rohan's borders," he instructed us, throwing our weapons to us. "If you are found within this country by the stroke of midnight tomorrow, you will be put to the death in the swiftest execution of law." I took Eomer's hand as he got to his feet, allowing him to help me stand, and I looked up to see Hama's eyes move from mine to Eomer's. "Ride hard," he said softly, turning away.

"What are you thinking of?"

I open my eyes sleepily, jolted out of my memory dream. Fingers softly caress my hair, drawing the strands back from my face. I look up, not removing my head from my lover's breast, my light brown eyes meeting chocolate. "The past," I say softly, resting my chin on his strong chest, my arms reaching up so that my hands lay on his shoulders. "Our last few months."I push myself up on an elbow. "Eomer, promise me that whatever happens, you will go on with life."

His eyes search mine, hands enclosing my face. "Lyris..." There is pain there, but I see that strength in his eyes, uncertain as it is. "I will promise- but only if you swear the same to me."

There is silence, and I know I must promise him this. I wonder of life without him, of a Rohan without her new Second Marshal. Without him, I, who am now Third Marshal, would become the Second Marshal, and if the king fell-

I stop my thoughts and lower myself, kissing him softly. "I promise," I whisper. "Now that that is settled, let us look now to happy thoughts- happy thoughts and memories."

His brows furrow as he stares into me, but his eyes are dreamy, and I know he is thinking of our triumphant ride into Helm's Deep. His hands caress my head as I close my eyes again, listening to the rhythm of his heart. My own mind drifts, and it is not long before I begin to think of that ride as well.

It was beautiful.

There is perhaps no happier time for a Rohirrim than when he is atop his horse, and I was no different. It is often said that a Rider loves his horse more than his wife; I do not know if this is true, but it is certain that I love my mare Redylfeld nearly as much as I love Eomer- and as we approached the hill, I could feel her anxiety.

Mithrandir led us to the pass, where he and Eomer stood for a moment to gaze at the scene below. I stood behind Eomer faithfully, the helm upon my head shining in the sun, my eyes waiting for the signal. Finally, it came. "Forth, Eorlingas!"

Redylfeld fluidly exploded into motion as the call went out, her exhilaration and my adrenaline riding at equally high motion. It was not long before she had caught up to Hirithalas, and as Eomer pounded down the mountain, I and Gandalf the Grey rode at his sides. My blood sang in my veins as we crashed into the Uruk forces, breaking like waves on the shore, the clang of swords ringing in the air. I slashed the head from an Uruk as I entered the fray, then tore out a throat with the tip of my sword, dragging it across to plunge into the eye of a third. Redylfeld and Hirithlas kept perfect stride even whilst wading through the Uruk ranks, allowing Eomer and I to execute a series of coordinated attacks. We were one unit, one force, one soul. Six years, but that moment set into motion the culmination of tonight.

And now we ride to Gondor in the morning, I think, and though under the covers, held in the arms of the man I love and who loves me, I cannot help but feel a coldness creep into my heart. I feel lips at my forehead, and I sigh, snuggling tighter against him. The words of King Theoden come to me: "No, we cannot defeat them. But we will meet them in battle nonetheless."

We will meet them in battle, but will we be victorious? Aragorn, the elf, and the dwarf have left our forces. It is they, part of a team, that led the rest of the Eorlingas to victory at Helm's Deep- without them, I wonder just how high our chances of success can be. I wonder if I will lose my life, or if both I and Eomer will succumb to battle.

More importantly, I wonder if Eomer will be taken and I let to live.

I draw in a sigh, resolving to be strong. A Rider's first loyalty is king, over love, over land, over pride. Eomer's voice echoes in my head. "Riders of Rohan! Oaths you have taken! Now let them be fulfilled!" Yes, oaths I have taken- not only to king, though, but to friend, to lover... An oath to go on, no matter what happens. An oath I will keep.

An oath I will keep, I think drowsily as I fall asleep.