A/N: Heheheh... Well, Madrone, it might be, deep underneath, but neither of them seem to realize it. Zita01, tell me, what language are your stories in? Is it german or dutch? BEAN, I hope to see you soon. Black as the Shadows, can I call you BATS? Saga123, I'm glad you like it! Nocturnal007, your updates are sitting on the computer, waiting. DAP, sorry to have dropped a cliffie on you! Well, not really... Mary, glad you like it. I don't know-we've jumped over sheep before. If it's really big there's always leap-frog-jumping! And the stew-it was actually hers. But maybe she overreacted just a little bit.

Ooh, a disclaimer.
Eomer: Elven Bunny and Butterfly Lion do not own Middle-Earth or the Rohirrim. Well, they own a few of my buddies, but oh well. Also, they own the demon-girl. And they can keep her. Ugh.
Ainsley: Gee, thanks a lot.
Eomer: Don't mention it.

Chapter 6

There were a few seconds of silence.

Eomer cleared his throat. "So, now what?"

Ainsley shrugged.

Neither of them moved.

Eowyn carefully lifted her spoon to her mouth.

Theodred tolerated her liesurely eating for about ten seconds, then asked, "Shall we see if he caught her? My, that sounds... odd."

Eowyn thought for a few seconds. "I'd like to finish my stew."

Theodred sighed. "Please?"

Eowyn started to shake her head, but then caught sight of someone just entering the room. She stiffened. "Come to think of it, I'm not hungry. Let's go."

Theodred gave her an odd look, and she nodded in the direction of the door.

"Ugh...Grima," Theodred muttered. He dropped two coins on the table and led Eowyn out.

Ainsley hadn't moved since Eomer grabbed her arm. Come to think of it, neither had Eomer.

Ainsley's leg was beginning to hurt. She had been running when he grabbed her, and since she hadn't moved, she still had one arm out as if she was swimming, and one leg pointing out behind her.

Eomer's friends had followed them in, and were exchanging money and insults.

"Told you he'd catch her," Beornhelm bragged.

"She led him a merry chase though," said Aldwulf with a shrug. He handed Beornhelm the mug of ale.

Theodred and Eowyn poked their heads into the stable. They had followed the trail of stew.

"Eomer, do you not think you should let go of her now?" inquired Theodred.

Eomer let go of Ainsley's arm as if she was a hot poker.

Ainsley fell over.

Theodred courteously helped her up.

"Hello, I'm Eomer and Eowyn's cousin Theodred," he introduced himself. "And you are...?"

"Ainsley McDiarmid," she said, holding out a hand for him to shake. He looked at it quizzically.

"Oh...right." She attempted a courtsey. It didn't really work.

Eomer skirted the puddle of stew and joined his friends, who laughed and slapped him on the back. "Good show, Eomer, you caught her!" chorused several of them.

"And I got a free mug of ale!" Beornhelm crowed.

Ainsley picked up her bowl, which had miraculously landed upright, and drank the last dregs of stew still left. "Let's go."

As they passed Eomer and his friends, Ainsley patted Aldwulf on the back. "So sorry to disappoint you. I would have gotten away if I hadn't run into the wall."

"Eowyn, can I borrow some breeches?" Ainsley asked as they left the stables. Theodred stayed behind to talk to Eomer.

"Breeches!" exclaimed Eowyn. "People would think it was indecent!"

"But your insane brother made me rip my dress! And skirts are so hard to run in!" whined Ainsley. "Sorry. I sound whiney."

"It is hard, isn't it?"

Ainsley peered at her friend. Eowyn was looking straight ahead, wearing a slight smirk. "You've worn breeches, haven't you?"

"Yes," admitted Eowyn. "But they were very different from men's breeches. I had them specially tailored."

"How so?"

"They were made extra loose so they almost looked like a skirt. I'll get some made for you."

"Thanks," Ainsley grinned. Then she frowned. "But how will they be made?"

"Uncle gives me lots of money. I'll pay for them," said Eowyn breezily.

"I'll need a job, though," said Ainsley thoughtfully. "I can't make you support me forever."
'However much I may want to,' her mind added.

"Oh, don't worry. It's not too expensive. But let's get you a different dress, shall we?"

Ainsley sighed with relief as they entered the main building, where Eowyn's room was situated. She attempted to memorize which hallways led to Eowyn's room, but gave up after a bit. She'd have to ask for a map.

Eowyn took out a key and unlocked a door.

"Can you give me a map, sometime?" asked Ainsley.

Eowyn gave her an odd look.

(A/N: That phrase pops up a lot in our stories, doesn't it?)

"A... map?" she asked hesitantly as she unlocked a trunk. "Of what?"

"This... building thingy." Ainsley waved her hand.

"I suppose I can draw one for you," Eowyn shrugged. She pulled out a light blue dress. "This has a fairly free skirt. It's also fairly light, and should be comfortable. I'll be waiting in the sheep field."

Eowyn left before Ainsley could thank her.

Ainsley kicked the door shut and pulled off the scratchy brown dress. She tugged the soft blue dress over her head.

It was too small.

"No!" she moaned. She glanced at the Evil. Brown. Dress.

She glanced back at the trunk. "I hope Eowyn won't mind. I don't think she would."

Ainsley knelt by the trunk and began to go through the dresses.

"Too fancy, I'll mess it up. Too small. Too elegant. Too short. Too thin. Too small. Too fancy. Too is a really weird word once you've said it about... seven times."

She whimpered. What a bad situation she was in! The brown dress was ripped, so she couldn't put it back on.

What to do? What to do...