An- Hey all! And how are we on this fine day? Good? That's great! Now that we've got the pleasant chitchat out of the way, here is the chapter. Back when Jane rewrote her first meeting Theoden part, I realized that that wasn't the only 'being told can't go into fighting' reaction that needed to be rewritten. In all honestly, Carla\s reaction to Eomer telling her she can't ride to Minas Tirith needed to be updated. Like Jane pointed out with her part, looking back with (the wisdom?) of age, the original reaction was super immature and needed to be fixed. So here's a less childish, PMSy and realistic reaction. Enjoy!

l.l.l

Carla couldn't believe her ears. She could not believe that she was hearing this.

"What the hell do you mean I can't go?" Carla tried to keep her voice calm and collected, but it seemed to have a mind of its own and rose angrily.

She had been preparing her horse to ride, double checking everything and trying to bury the dead feeling of loneliness that had taken up residence in her chest. For the first time, she was in this completely foreign, dangerous and (quite frankly) terrifying land all alone. All the people she felt comfort with, the ones who could relate to her 'I'm-from-another-world', were scattered all over this one, and none of them were near her.

When she had noticed Eomer coming towards her, she had been overjoyed. Not only would she have a distraction from the loneliness, but she had developed quite the crush on him. She didn't put her flirting skills to work very often, and she was the first to admit that they could use some work, but she thoroughly enjoyed practicing with him. Carla was improving, if she did say so herself.

So happy that she was to see him, Carla hadn't noticed the look on his face. It was a cross between dread, determination and 'I'm-so-going-to-get-punched'. Most of all, it was dead serious. When he reached her, Carla had smiled and opened her mouth to speak. Eomer cut her off before she could, with a very blunt and direct, "You're staying here."

"I mean it exactly as it sounds," Eomer replied, a no compromising expression on his face, but carefully not looking her in the eyes, "we do not need a woman riding with us and slowing us down, and then getting herself killed. I will not allow it."

"Slow you down?" Carla didn't even try to stop herself from yelling this time, "Slow you down!"

Out of all the reasons that Eomer could have given her, that one both shocked and pissed her off. Especially since she knew they were lies. Eomer had already made a point to compliment her on her riding, admitting that she surpassed a number of the Riders of Rohan. He had promised her a race to show him just how good she was. He had been impressed that she had remained unscathed at Helm's Deep, though she figured a part of that had to do with the fact that she was a woman (not that he'd say that to her face).

"That's bull!" Carla seethed, fists clenching at her side, "I can ride and fight with the best of them! I'm an asset in battle, and you can't deny that!"

Eomer finally really looked at her directly, and his gaze was steely, "Asset or not, it doesn't mean you can't be killed. Unlike Lord Aragorn, I am not going to allow a woman to travel to war, regardless of how well she fights or rides."

The tone of his voice told Carla that there would be no changing his mind. There wouldn't even be a chance of compromise. She wanted to scream that he couldn't stop her, but held back that childish impulse. Being the heir to the throne and commander of the Riders, he really could. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit something. She wanted to throw a temper tantrum. Carla did none of those this, because none of them would do her any good.

"Fine," she hissed at him, barely keeping her fury in check, "be a sexist bastard, but at least respect me enough to give me a real reason you're leaving me behind."

Eomer looked startled by her demand, but he did give her an answer, "I do not want you to be injured, let alone killed."

He wanted to protect her, and was doing it in a chauvinist, douchebaggy way. Carla may have been flattered and touched if not for the fact that the two other men she knew who were desperate to protect the women they loved, hadn't done it in such a way. Frodo had let Erin travel with him to Mordor and Legolas fought at Niori's side. They both respected their girls' decisions, even when (in Niori's case, and maybe even Erin's, for all Carla knew) near death experiences had already been involved. Eomer's methods were under handed and just pissed her off.

"If this is some sort of way to impress me and make me swoon, telling me that I'm useless isn't the way to go about it. So screw you."

She turned to storm off, because if she stayed there any longer, there would be violence. Before she could step away, Eomer grabbed onto her arm.

"I apologize, I do. I do not mean offence, but staying is for your own goo-"

He didn't get to finish, because a flash of hot, white rage overcame her, and she hit him with a right hook. He grunted, let go of her arm and stumbled back a few steps. Her hand hurt, but it was a satisfying pain.

"Fuck you!" She screamed it loud enough to attract the attention of the men around her.

She finished storming off then, and people gave her a wide berth as she moved to the edge of the encampment.

Angry or not, Carla knew that she shouldn't have hit him. Letting her temper get the best of her was never good, but hitting a guy she was half hoping to have some sort of relationship with (though, after the extreme display of Alpha Male Syndrome she had just witnessed, she was reconsidering that desire) was approaching the territory of domestic abuse, and that was always bad.

By the time she reached the end of the camp, Carla was muttering to herself, "That stupid bastard! Who the hell does he think he is! He's not my boss! I don't need a big strong man to protect my fragile girl self! Argh! Why do men assume that you're helpless just because you have boobs!"

Carla, brain not processing that it was a bad idea and would probably break her hand, reared her fist back to hit the tree to her left. Before impact, a small, feminine hand stopped it.

"You are not the only one they will not allow to ride to war with them," a soft voice spoke from behind her.

Carla whirled around to find Eowyn standing behind her.

"Your brother is a God damned sonofabitch!" Carla blurted out angrily.

"He does it only to ensure no harm befalls either of us," Eowyn replied, pulling Carla into a tent and closing the flap behind them, "he cares a great deal about you."

"That's part of the problem," Carla grumbled, but couldn't help but feel a small thrill knowing that Eomer returned her feelings.

Carla folded her arms over her chest stubbornly. Damnit! She wanted to stay furious! Eowyn was holding something out to her. Carla realized that she was holding a bundle of clothes in her arms.

"They will not permit two women to ride, but they will not notice two more men," Eowyn told her, an uncharacteristic smirk lighting up her face, "we will be riding to war, and none will know it is us."

l.l.l.

An- As you can see, the reaction still isn't as mature as Jane's was, but that comes down to personality differences. Where Jane was cool and collected, Carla still has a fiery temper- her reaction was bound to be more explosive. Hopefully though, it's still age appropriate (and not that of a sulking five year old throwing a temper tantrum, like the original). See you next time! Peace, Love & Rainbows!