Lothíriel's eyes snapped open as she heard a noise. By the light around her, she knew that it was night time. Sticking her head out from the stall, she searched the area and sniffed, trying to determine who – or what – had made the sound. Nothing else in the stable moved. The quiet around her was eerie. She could feel her ears rotating, searching for any sort of sound. When they finally found something to focus on, she gave it her full attention.

Standing before her was King Éomer. His sudden appearance stunned Lothíriel. He reached up and held out his hand. As if she had been called by something within her, she stepped forward, meeting his open, empty hand with her nose. He looked upset. 'What is the matter?' She stared at him, willing him to answer her unspoken question. Whether he knew what she wanted to know or he simply had been meaning to tell her without any bidding in the first place was beyond her. But he spoke quietly.

"We didn't find her. We spent all day searching for the woman who is meant to be my future wife and queen, and she seems to have disappeared into thin air." He sighed. "What makes it worse is to see how her family suffers while I can do nothing. I cannot help but wonder if she ran away from the thought of marrying me, one who would no doubt be considered a barbarian by most, and who never was meant for the throne of Rohan." He shook his head lightly, "I do not speak from a place of heartbreak, but perhaps a mixture of pride and self-doubt." He turned his attention back to Lothíriel before continuing, "Éowyn should have become the heir to the throne after Théodred died." He chuckled, "she was the one who spent all the time by our uncle's side, learning the court and other such things. I was always meant to be a soldier, protecting these lands with a spear in my hand, not a crown on my head."

Lothíriel's heart went out to the rohirric king as well as her family who no doubt were worried about her sudden disappearance. Focusing on the man in front of her she nuzzled his hand lightly. 'I don't think you're a barbarian. In fact, the only thing that I'm unsure about you is whether or not you can read. That can always be remedied anyways. You have shown yourself to be a decent host and I feel that your people love you as their king.'

"You're too kind, Flower Dancer." A smile pulled at one of the corners of King Éomer's mouth. She was surprised a little when she thought of him without his title, but eventually resigned herself that propriety didn't really matter so long as she remained a horse. As he continued to look at her, she studied his face in the moonlight. Now that they stood in the quiet, without all the business of the daytime, she could see the lines of sorrow etched within his brow. There was a hardness within his eyes that spoke of countless tragedies. So many seen and felt that part of him had been locked away. While she had never fully experienced it herself, she could sympathize after seeing so much sadness in the wake of the Ring War.

"Tomorrow, I must continue to search for the princess, but in the afternoon, I plan to take you out and see your capabilities. I checked the records, and you're not in them as either a Mearas or belonging to any of the breeders' herds. But you do not feel like a normal horse, even by Rohan's standards." The other side of his mouth pulled up and he gave a full smile. "You're quite the mystery."

'So are you.'

He shrugged, "Whatever you are, we will see the range of your capabilities tomorrow afternoon." He stepped away and Lothíriel felt a little bit of loss as he did. "Good night, Flower Dancer."

'Good night…Éomer.'

A/N: So originally, this chapter was going to go somewhere else entirely, but on a whim I decided that this would be a better fit for a comedy.

Tomorrow should be busy but I'll do my best to post at least one chapter, if not the regular 2.

See you next chapter!