Erchirion sought me out in the library the next day just before noon. I was making a copy of a book I had borrowed from Faramir's library on the horses of Rohan and I was more than a little distracted. "Hello, Lothíriel," he said.

"Hello, Erchirion," I answered, not looking up. "How are you this morning?"

"I am well. How does this morning find you?"

"Well," I said. "Only that this book is rather frustrating. It has quite an extensive section dedicated to the breeding of horses but it is mostly just long lists of sires and dames of various famous horses. It says almost nothing about the techniques used for selecting couplings, or what couplings were found not to work. And it was all so long ago it means nothing to anyone alive. All these horses are described in exactly the same terms: swift of foot and strong of body and so on. It says nothing about which ones were truly exceptional and which ones were simply good."

"Well...how would you like to fix that?" he asked.

"Oh, I'd very much like to fix it," I said. "I'd like to know what principles guide the Rohirrim when they set out to select couplings for..."

"No, I mean how would you really like to fix it?" he asked.

I looked up for the first time. "I just said..."

"As Éomer and I became good friends in the war, he invited me to go to Rohan last night. I'm to help distribute the grain he is buying from father, and I want to take you with me. I'm sure the Rohirrim would be delighted to talk about horses with you to your heart's content."

I laughed. "How would I get back? Father would never let me travel alone with unknown guards and he would never spare any of his knights just for a visit of a few weeks."
"Well, I'm sure that something could be arranged if you only wanted to stay for a few weeks," Erchirion said. "But what I actually meant was why don't you come with me? For my whole trip? We would be back in time for the festival of Beltane."

I gaped at him. "What? For six months? In Rohan?"

"Why not? I don't have a wife and I'll need someone to run my house in Edoras," he said simply. "You seem to have a good head on your shoulders, Amrothos says you're an excellent bookkeeper and...and you don't really appear that happy here in Minas Tirith, Lothíriel," he added finally.

I cocked my head to the side but didn't dispute it. "You want to take me with you to Rohan? For the winter?"

To my surprise I found that I desperately wanted to go. Just to be away from the White City would be a blessed relief. I wouldn't have to deal with Lady Harra or Lady Winweld or Father or any of them. Amrothos...I thought suddenly. I could be away from Amrothos for the first time in my whole life. What would it be like not to have his voice always complaining, always critiquing, always whispering snide comments in my ear? I felt like a terrible sister for thinking it but I wanted that most of all. Just a break, I said to myself, less than a year of our lives and then I'll come back.

But what made Erchirion think that he would enjoy my company for all that time? Never mind my reputation as a gossip, a troublemaker and a villain. Never mind that I'd never run a household before, never mind that I'd made a bad impression on all the Rohirrim I'd ever met. Never mind that my father wouldn't approve even if he didn't say as much. What made Erchirion want to put up with me for six months? And what if I backslid? What if my change had been temporary and I started to return to my old habits? We would be trapped together basically alone and with no chance of leaving for months.

I couldn't impose on him like that. And I couldn't leave Amrothos behind.

"That's a very generous offer, Brother..." I began.

"It's not," he said quickly. "Rohan won't be like Minas Tirith. There will be no balls, no new dresses and none of your friends. There won't be any of the food you're used to and you'll be in charge of a house, which will be quite a bit of work given that most of your servants won't speak Westron."

"That doesn't sound like very much fun at all," I said lazily.

But then why then did it sound so appealing? I hated hard work. I hated riding, cold, strange places, people I didn't know, bad smells, and loneliness. I wouldn't have any balls to go to, any new dresses or any company but Erchirion. I would be miserable. So why did it sound so appealing? There was a sudden, sharp longing in my chest to say yes.

Erchirion shrugged. "Maybe not."

"Well, I like fun," I said. "A lot."

He nodded. "Why don't you think about it, Lothíriel? You can tell me by tomorrow. If you don't want to go I'm sure I can ask father for one of his housekeepers."

"Very well, Erchirion. I'll think about it," I agreed.

Éowyn and Faramir married that afternoon. It was a beautiful day with a clear blue, cloudless sky. The couple looked beautiful and ecstatic and completely in love. When King Elessar announced them as bride and groom the roar of approval from the crowd was overwhelming. It shook Minas Tirith like nothing had since the war, and rolled out over the planes for miles around. The shout that went up from the riders of Rohan was especially moving: a hundred warriors screaming their longing for a lasting peace.

I wore a red silk dress with gold gloves and shoes. Undoubtedly a gorgeous dress and new, but somehow I didn't feel the way I had expected. This promised to be the biggest party for months and I was in a in a foul, black humor. I had promised Erchirion to think about his offer and I certainly had, but not in the way that he had meant. I knew that my decision was already made, and I hated it. I resented Amrothos, felt crushed by Minas Tirith and most of all hated myself for being so unable to alter my decision. After all the months that I'd sworn I was changing, was going to change, I still remained the same girl. I was still chained to Minas Tirith and the court and the corpse of Denethor and all he represented. And I chose that bondage in the end because it was easier and it was all that I had ever known. Stupid,stupid,stupid, I cursed myself. But it didn't alter anything.

Amrothos, as if for contrast, was in high good humor.

As he brought us two glasses of wine he smiled at me as he handed mine over. "I heard what you said to Lady Harra. Impressive."

"Stupid you mean," I said bleakly. "She's going to roast me over a spit before Yule."

"Ah..." He waved me off. "We'll think of something."

"Don't bank on the thing about her son," I said. "I used that last night."

I expected him to be angry. It was Amrothos who had found out that Harra had been sleeping with a Haradrim lord right around the time her son was conceived, and it had been our biggest bargaining chip with her for years. But instead he just smiled. "She's no saint. She'll do something stupid soon enough and we can lever you out of the whole mess with it straight away. Don't worry."

"I don't want to find something else on her," I said sulkily.

"Oh, you don't mean that," he dismissed my protest.

"Yes, I do," I insisted, a little desperation seeping into my voice despite of myself. "I don't want to do this stuff anymore, Amrothos. It's not...fun anymore."

He sighed. "Lothíriel, if you don't want to eat that wild boar of a woman alive you shouldn't be kicking the bushes where she lives."

I took a long sip of my wine. He was right. I'd pretty much declared open war on Harra the night before and that was not something I was going to be able to take back. "You know Erchirion asked me to go to Rohan with him this morning. He says he needs someone to run his household and I could help him with the bookkeeping for the grain."

"Right."

"Don't you want to know what I said?"

"I know what you said."

"Why do you think that?"

He laughed. "Well, I think I would have noticed if you'd gone completely insane. Can you even imagine yourself?" He laughed even harder. "Do you think anyone in that country knows how to sew you a ball gown? Or make you a lemon finger cake? Or put your hair up? Or keep you entertained? You're not made for that kind of life."

"I could learn," I protested weakly.

"You're stubborn, Lothi," he said, almost kindly. "But you're not that stubborn." I was surprised to find that I was almost blinking back tears. "Come on...let's go figure out what to do about Harra."

"Very well," I agreed heavily. "But not tonight? I just want to enjoy the wedding."

"Sure, let's enjoy the wedding," Amrothos agreed. "Let's go find Lady Winweld and see if we can make her cry."

"I'm going to go and find a dance partner," I said.

As I left Amrothos' side and walked through the crowd, I wondered again why I had done what I had the night before – stupid,stupid,stupid. This wasn't going to end with Lady Harra. By the time I was done figuring out a way to get her to leave me alone I would be back to being Amrothos' partner once again. By the time I crawled out of the pit I'd dug for myself last night I would be just as dirty as I had been before.

One year for Yule Amrothos had given me a little woven tube of straw. I put both my fingers into the ends but found that I when I tried to pull them out the tube of straw contracted, closing in on my fingers so I couldn't release them. Minas Tirith was like that. I was so connected to everyone and everything that whenever I tried to pull away in one direction the other direction tightened in on me.

I danced with some of my customary partners but my usual pleasure wasn't there. I locked arms with them instinctively but had to think about the steps, instead of just floating through them. I was just about to give up and go back to Amrothos when a large hand caught mine and I was pulled around to face King Éomer. "Oh!"

He smiled, looking rather pleased at my surprise. "Good evening, Lady Lothíriel," he said.

What he had done, grabbing my hand in a crush, was absolutely against etiquette. As if to add insult to injury he raised my fingers, still clasped in his, to his lips and pressed a gallant kiss to them. I should have slapped him, but instead I curtseyed most dutifully. "Good evening, my lord," I said, letting my usual placid smile return. "Please pass my congratulations to your lady sister. I found the ceremony most moving this afternoon. I wish them both all happiness. May they have many sons."

My words were so formulaic that they were by nature insincere. I had meant them as insolence but he just grinned wider, almost as if pleased by my contrariness. "I will," he promised. "Honor me with a dance."

It rankled me slightly that he hadn't really asked, more commanded me. But I simply dropped a small curtsey. "The honor will be all mine, my lord." And I let him lead me out onto the floor.

The dance was faster than I'd expected—almost frenetic— and I found for the first time since Erchirion had offered to take me to Rohan, that I was thinking about something else. I found it impossible to sulk when he was whirling me in and around the other dancers and I almost had to run to catch up. The placid, sullen expression melted off my face and I found I was genuinely smiling by the time the final notes of the song rang through the hall.

"Thank you for the dance, my lord," I said simply when it was over. "I enjoyed it."

His hand was still twined in mine and he didn't let it go until I finally dropped his. "I enjoyed it as well."

"Thank you," I said, looking around for Amrothos. I needed some wine.

I spotted my brother and a polite excuse formed on my tongue when Éomer surprised me. "Did your brother invite you to Rohan?" he asked.

I looked back to him, my eyes questioning. "Yes...but how did you know?"

He smiled. "I suggested it to him."

"Did you?" I tried to remember the last time I had been so genuinely amazed. "Might I ask why?"

He winked. "Why does a savage king from the North do anything? Because there is nothing but straw and horsehair in our heads, or a backwards indifference to reason? I wouldn't read too much into it, my lady."

I laughed. "Yes, well, whatever your reasons, he did ask me. I said I would think about it."

"But you don't intend to come," he said with a smile.

I smiled back, finding my jaw was suddenly tight and hard to move. "I have a very comfortable life here," I said with an apologetic little shrug.

He gave me a shrewd look. "Do you?"

When I didn't reply he nodded. "I think your brother wants to speak to you, my lady," he said, pointing over my shoulder to where Amrothos approached.

Amrothos had found Lady Eithedis and Lady Giril of Rinhelm. The sisters were two of our closest friends, despite the rumor Amrothos and I had started two summers before about Giril lying with one of her stable boys. We'd reconciled the winter after, when we'd been so mean to the third daughter of some lesser lord, who had tried to marry their brother, that she'd gone back to her home castle after bursting into tears at a banquet.

"Hi, Lothi," Eithedis greeted me.

"Hi, Lothi," her sister repeated.

"Hello," I said simply. "What did you think of the ceremony?"

Eithedis laughed. "I was surprised the bride-to-be didn't show up in her mail."

"Or trousers. I've heard that the women over there ride in trousers just like they're men. And they wear their hair loose like the most common slut," her sister added.

"Well, that would explain why Faramir looked so pleased."

"What? That flat-chested little slip of a boy must be a stunning conversationalist for any man to look at her like that," Amrothos chipped in.

"Maybe that's the appeal. Faramir never did complain too much about being sent out on ranging with nothing but a few hundred score men to keep him company. Maybe if he can't marry a slip of a boy he's trying for the next closest thing with a slip of a girl from Rohan," Giril said with a smirk.

"Oh, would you three at least try for a little consistency?" I exploded suddenly.

Three stunned faces turned to me.

"Well, what is it? Is Lady Éowyn a flat-chested boy, a fierce unladylike-like warrior, a slut, or is Faramir just a pederast? Can't you just pick one theme to your insults and stick with it for two sentences?" I demanded. "I'm sick of this stupid, never-ending game."

"You know what I'm sick of, Lothi?" Amrothos said, sighing in a long-suffering way. "You! Since the war you've been such a drag I don't know what to do with you. That little exchange with Harra last night was the first interesting thing you've done in months. But if it's going to be months more of this 'don'tsaythat,Amrothos, it'snottrue' and moping around all day, talking to the servants and trying to be someone you're patently not...you're not the sister I knew before."

"Oh, since the war I've been a drag have I?" I said, suddenly angry. "How dare you! This is pathetic and petty and the worst thing is that you don't even know it. None of this matters, Amrothos! You must realize that."

"What else matters than this?" he said casually. "This is fun."

"It isn't. Not anymore. Not to me. Grow up, Amrothos! This is a game for children."

"Oh, Lothíriel. You are a child and you always will be. You think you have the mettle to do anything else? You say this is petty? You are petty. You say this is pathetic? You used to be great at this. What else are you going to do? You don't have any other skills."

"No!" I said, so loudly it was almost shouting, and the groups of people nearest to us turned to stare and then looked politely away. "You don't have any other skills, Amrothos! Or anywhere to go. But I have somewhere else to go: to Rohan with Erchirion!"

The words were out of my mouth before I'd even known I'd spoken them, and I instantly wished I could grab them and shove them back in. I felt as if I had suddenly dumped a bucket of icy water over my head and I had to stop myself from grabbing onto Amrothos' arm to keep steady as a wave of fear washed over me.

Amrothos saw my fear and smiled, cocking one eyebrow at me. "Oh?" he said simply.

"Yes," I nearly gasped. "Yes, I am."

There was no going back from it now. I'd said the words and I couldn't withdraw them. It was strange but it was the code that Amrothos and I had built for ourselves that forbade me from taking the words back. We had always prided ourselves on our indifference, and that meant that once a decision had been made we simply sat back and accepted it with as much scorn and bad humor as we could.

But he wasn't coming with me. There would be no one to complain to or to hear my witty, devastating remarks on Rohan and the Rohirrim. I suddenly felt scared and alone.

I spent a lot of time with Amrothos over the next two days as I prepared to leave Minas Tirith. I had many things to pack but I had maids to do that for me and Erchirion arranged all the other provisions, wagons and various sundries for travel. Though we would leave together Erchirion was planning to ride with Éomer and his Riders straight on for Edoras, making the journey in about a week along the Great West Road. I would follow on with the wagons and provisions and would likely take nearer three. I spent a lot of my time, as I always had reading in the library, talking with Amrothos and filling my copious free time with picnics, sewing circles and walks around the gardens and the city.

Amrothos and I didn't talk about my leaving. We talked a lot about Lady Harra. I felt guilty about going and I tried to please him, letting him talk without trying to turn the conversation away from it, as I had before. He didn't come to see me off the morning I left. We'd stayed up to share a glass of wine before I went to bed and I'd asked him if he would.

"You'll leave before dawn, right?" he said.

"Yes."

"I can't be bothered then."

I had never cried during the siege, probably too terrified, but I cried that night for the first time since I was a child: long, wracking tears that strangled in my throat and wouldn't come out as more than painful grunting howls. I don't remember falling asleep but at some point I must have exhausted myself because the next thing I knew Feleas was shaking me awake. "My lady, it is time for you to get up."

I nodded and pushed myself up in bed, feeling nothing but tired. "What? Oh, thank you, Feleas," I said groggily.

"Lord Erchirion says that you will ride until day break and then have breakfast, but I brought you some bread and honey from the kitchen if you would like to have it now. And some water to wash your face."

"Oh...thank you." I ate the bread absentmindedly while she got the riding cloak and dress she had carefully laid out the night before. Other than that, my closet and room were completely bare and eerie in the glow of the candle light. Outside my window the sun hadn't even begun to come up.

She helped me into my dress and cloak and did up my hair in a simple braid. Feleas wasn't coming with me to Rohan. One of Erchirion's kitchen girls would have to do my hair from now on and I felt a strange, bone-deep, weary sadness as I thought about that. But I was too tired to really care.

"Thank you, Feleas," I said when she was done. "For everything."

She curtseyed. "It has been a pleasure serving you, my lady...these last few months."

That cheered me up somehow as I walked down the dark halls past my sleeping family and out to the stables where Erchirion was waiting. I had always liked stinging honesty and backhanded compliments both. Together they were practically ambrosia. Feleas really was showing some character, I thought. It was a real shame she wasn't coming with me.

Erchirion smiled when he saw me. "Right on time."

I shrugged. "Thank Feleas."

My father and Elphir were there to see us off. Both embraced me rather formally and shook Erchirion's hand warmly. "Do Dol Amroth proud in Rohan, Erchirion," my father said, clasping him on the arm. He had nothing really to say to me so he simply nodded.

Erchirion and I walked our horses down through Minas Tirith in the dark. I had borrowed the horse from Elphir: a decrepit old nag called Sea Racer. When I had chosen her Elphir had cocked an eyebrow. "Her?" he'd asked, incredulously. "You are going to ride her to Rohan?"

"She doesn't look like she'll bolt," I'd said with a shrug. "It's been a while since I've been on a horse."

"She won't bolt. I doubt if she could get above a speed that I would classify as a stroll even if all the orcs in Mordor were chasing you," he'd said.

"Perfect."

"I'm surprised Amrothos didn't come to see you off." Erchirion broke into my thoughts as we passed the last gate out of Minas Tirith.

I shrugged. I had half expected him to come as well but all I said was – "He said if we wanted him to come we should leave at a civilized hour."

Outside the gate a host of Rohirrim had already gathered and were ready to ride. Éomer came out of the darkness to greet us. Like my brother he seemed unnaturally cheerful to me, given the hour. Even more so than Erchirion, he seemed positively alive with joy. It made my own black humor even darker.

He clapped Erchirion on the shoulder with a hearty slap. "Erchirion, my old friend! I am glad to be riding to Rohan with you. You said once that if there was ever peace you would come to visit me but this was more than I had hoped for! You won't regret it, friend. Rohan will take your heart if you let her!"

Erchirion smiled back. "It is good to be riding with you again, Éomer King."

To me King Éomer bowed respectfully and kissed my fingers. "My lady, you look lovely this morning."

"Thank you, my lord. You look like someone who enjoyed himself thoroughly last night."

It was the plainest rebuke I could dare. Despite his good humor the King of Rohan looked as if he'd barely slept and had quite a bit of mead. His long, blond hair certainly hadn't been washed or brushed and his eyes were bloodshot and slightly sunken.

He laughed heartily. "Mount up, my lady. We ride until full light."

By the time I had let Erchirion help me up onto Sea Racer's bent back, Éomer was mounted on his enormous warhorse and he rode twice the length of the caravan before heading to the front of the column. I had read that commanders often did that before battle, believing it was important for the men to see them, to see that their commander was with them. I wondered if he did it on every ride from force of habit. From a satchel next to his saddle he produced a simple carved horn and blew it once. The sound of it was like a large, warm finger sliding down my spine. My flesh seemed to tighten suddenly with the sensation of it and my heart beat faster. The horns of the north!

The last time I'd heard them I'd been in the Houses of Healing, and they had been blowing our salvation. I looked at Éomer, and for the first time realized that he had been the man blowing that day when I had looked up from the blood and gore and felt something that wasn't numb and cowardly. And now I was riding out into the dawn with the Riders of Rohan. The romanticism of that carried me about twenty minutes down the road. And then I truly began to hate it.

The journey took eighteen weary days, though I rode only one of them on Sea Racer. On the second day when I'd woke to find that the long ride had left me with a bruise down one side I demanded a seat in one of the wagons. Elfhelm, who had been in charge since Éomer had ridden on, didn't openly rebuke me but the look on his face told me he hadn't expected much more from me. After that I'd spent my time staring out the back of the wagon and asking myself over and over why I had agreed to come and brewing up as much hatred for Erchirion, Rohan, Éomer and Amrothos as I could.

When at last we arrived in Edoras, it was almost dark. I was dishevelled, grubby and exhausted, and just wanted to forget the terrible journey. I went straight to bed without dinner, without meeting any of my household, and without speaking more than a few words to Erchirion. It was likely he knew my mind anyway because I made no bones about glaring at him, the house and anything that dared cross my field of vision.

TBC

AN: Thanks to everyone to reviewed! If you like the story let me know! It makes my day and makes me want to write more. And a really special thanks to my beta Lady Bluejay, who is kicking this story into a whole new gear!