Rundil made her way to the Rohirrim's tents. She had snuck out of the healers' tents after the twins and Aragon had left her alone, confident that the sleeping draught they had put in her tea would keep her in bed. Rundil snorted. Not likely. She had not spent decades in the Eastern deserts immunising herself to all kinds of poisons for naught. She still wore the nightshirt Elrohir had given her after her bath. She kept to the shadows to avoid attention. Finally, she reached the paddocks. And there, brushing a huge white stallion, was the light haired giant.

Rundil lifted herself onto the rails of the paddock. The stallion shook his head and nickered.

Eomer spun around. He took a few seconds to take her in, then closed the distance between them in two strides and crushed her against him, pulling her from the railings. "Rundil."

She leant into his form. "Eomer."

He pulled back and looked her up and down. "What happened to you?"

"Sauron."

He grimaced. "Lovely."

"I see Firefoot grew into a glorious piece of flesh."

He tugged her over to the majestic animal. "Firefoot, remember Rundil? She always spoiled you rotten."

Firefoot sniffed at her offered palm and bumped her playfully with his head.

"Sorry, you oversized colt, I don't have carrots."

Firefoot nibbled her hair and Rundil laughed, stroking his ears.

"He allows you to play with his ears." Eomer said blankly.

"I have a woman's touch."

"A woman's touch," he muttered. "And you like horses." He looked at her clothes, or rather, lack thereof. "Have you finally decided to take up my offer?"

Rundil laughed. "Which one?"

He stepped closer. "To share my bed, of course."

She hit his chest. "You know I don't play around."

He caught her wrist. "Marry me."

Rundil froze. "Where did that come from?"

"Will you?"

"No."

"Why not?" He stepped closer to her. "It makes perfect sense. You are good with horses, you understand the Rohirrim, you are a great kisser, you like me, and you become queen."

"Eomer. Has your court been pestering you about an heir?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "They are driving me crazy!"

"Alright."

"You will?"

"No. But I'll play along to keep them off you back for a while. But don't tell anything. Let them guess. I don't want to cause a scandal when you find her."

"I won't," he whined.

"You have never had a problem to get women before."

"It's different. This is forever. And official."

"Doesn't one of your council members have a daughter?"

He groaned. "Almost all of them. And that makes it very political. If I take someone from the Westmark, Northmark moans about favouritism. The men are advertising their daughters like horses. I do not have the strength to deal with that."

"Someone from Gondor, then?"

"But they are so stuck-up!"

"Oh, you don't even know them. Who is the most highborn lady in Gondor?"

"Boromir did not have a sister," he said with the customary Rohirric bluntness.

"No."

"His brother and Eowyn are prancing at each other."

"Eowyn and Faramir," Rundil grinned.

Eomer scowled. "Yes."

"Almost like Eylra and Legolas."

Eomer guffawed.

"He thought I was her and started stomping his hooves around me. And I can just see her falling for a pretty face like his."

Eomer kept chuckling, then suddenly stopped. "Wait. Is this a new craze for elves to marry mortals?"

Rundil shifted. "Well..."

His eyes sharpened, boring into hers.

"Erm, Eylra might have elvish blood."

"Is that all? Quite a few mortals have. The house of Dol Amroth has as well, as did my great-grandmother."

"Hmm. Er, Eomer? Can I... show you something?"

"Sure," he frowned.

"Don't freak out."

"What is it?"

Rundil grabbed onto his forearms and took a deep breath. She met his eyes and let the glamour fall away.

Eomer stood frozen for a few moments, then he swore and yanked free, walking a few steps.

Rundil slumped against Firefoot. He nickered and butted her with his head.

Some weeks later

Rundil pushed her way through the throng. "Out of my way, you orcs." She huffed when she finally reached the front. Then her eyes caught the cause for the commotion. Elves. And not any elves. Lady Galadriel herself was at the front with Celeborn of Doriath.

Rundil did not allow herself to dwell on that. Instead her eyes searched out the colours of Imaldris. There. She was running over the field before she could register what was happening. "Elyra!"

There came a strangled gasp and then a figure jumped down from her horse and came running. The force of their bodies colliding bruised Rundil's newly healed ribs, but she welcomed it as she held her baby sister.

Elyra was laughing and crying. "I missed you, Rundie. And Boromir..."

"You are safe now. I am right here and Boromir deserved a hero's end."

Eylra gripped her again and dried her tears. "I love you, Rundil."

"You too, Eyl."

Rundil glared at the staring elves over Eylra's shoulder. "Curious elves. They should mind their own business."

Eylra gasped. "Oh no! This is a horrible breach in protocol!"

Rundil snorted. "Oh please. Even elves can't be that pompous." Eylra covered her eyes with her hands. Rundil rolled her eyes and pulled Eylra along at the wrist. "Come on, some wood elf has been pestering me about you for weeks now. And Eomer misses you. Says you are the best lover he ever had." Eylra's face was horrified. "Yes, that is about how Legolas looked as well."

Eylra groaned. "You ruined my reputation!"

"Oh, I think we rather built it up. Almost as good as Eomer's."

By the time they reached the tents, the greetings between Aragon, Legolas, Eomer, Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn and Lord Elrond had already taken place.

Legolas caught sight of them and promptly flushed. Rundil led Eylra over to him and excused herself. She was just about to vanish in the throng, when her eye saw a smattering of gold.

"Glorfindel!"

The golden head snapped up. He broke off his conversation and walked over to her, grinning, pulling her into a bear hug. "Hello, Love. Missed me?"

"You know I cannot live without you. You are like air to me, water to my body and all that."

He grinned and looked her up and down. His expression turned serious. "What happened to you?"

"Angmar got me." Glorfindel pulled in a breath. "So I lived as a guest of Sauron's for a few months."

His eyes hooded, Glorfindel reached out a hand and touched her face. "Are you alright?"

"Of course not. My ribs are healed, but my back still looks like a battlefield. My hair grew back, luckily."

He gently pulled her close and pressed a kiss onto her lips. "If you need anything at all, you know where to find me," he said before catching her hand and steering her towards a group of elves who were trying to watch them without staring.

"Now, you know the twins, this is their lovely sister, Arwen. That stuck up scholar is Erestor, this is Haldir from Lothlorien. This is Rundil. Eylra is her sister."

"We gathered that," Haldir muttered. "Tell me, Lady Rundil, why do you think elves are pompous?"

Rundil frowned. Haldir smirked. "You are not the only one with enhanced hearing."

Rundil swore. "I keep forgetting that."

Glorfindel's hand travelled to the small of her back. "Language, Love. We are in polite company," he said with a small smile.

"I apologise, Lady Arwen."

She gave a mischievous smile. "Oh, that is alright. I have two brothers after all."

"And a manly fiancé," Erestor added. Arwen blushed faintly.

"Congratulations on that. He is a fine catch. Healthy teeth, strong hindquarters, gleaming mane..."

Rundil trailed off at their expressions. The twins had been staring at her since she had joined the group and were strangely quiet, but now the others' faces were also contorting. There came a snort from next to her. "Been spending copious amounts of time with the Rohirrim?" Glorfindel asked.

"Well, Eomer is a bit down after the whole Saruman fiasco and his councilmen are pressuring him to get a wife... Oh. Did I use horse talk?"

"You commented on Aragorn's hindquarters."

"Well, they are attractive. Better than any elf's."

There came a strangled sound from Haldir. Rundil continued, unperturbed, "Elves are too lanky. Nothing to hold onto."

Glorfindel was shaking with suppressed mirth. "Oh goodness, Rundil, you are scarring these poor innocents. "

"I know for certain the twins are not innocent." Rundil glanced at the smirking duo.

Elrohir clutched his chest. "You wound me, Rundil. I am as innocent as untrampled morning dew."

Rundil snickered. "I am sure."

Glorfindel tugged on her hand. "Let us leave before we... trample the dew or something. I want to introduce you to Elrond. Oh, and Celeborn will adore you."

"Well, then, see you around," Rundil nodded and allowed Glorfindel to guide her along. "You know, all your stories of Gondolin have been confusing me greatly. I was on my way to call together an army to go and retrieve Eylra from a hidden Elvish city."

"Well, Imaldris is a hidden elf valley."

Rundil growled. "You were purposely confusing me with all kinds of tall tales from the First Age. And you never even told me you had died!"

They reached a group of elves at that moment. Everyone turned eerily quiet. "Who told you that?" Glorfindel asked quietly. His face had turned pale and drawn, eyes hard as stone. Rundil's features softened. She reached up to cup his jaw. "Perhaps we should discuss it later?" she asked quietly. Glorfindel exhaled sharply and caught her hand. "Perhaps." He kissed her knuckles and turned to face the elves. He inclined his head. "My Lady, My Lords. This is Rundil."

Rundil nodded. "Well met. Lord Celeborn, I have always wanted to meet you."

The tall, silver haired elf grinned. "I like her already." His voice was deep, like the Rauros.

"Your mind is shadowed from me," came the misty tones of the Lady of the Light.

Rundil winced. "Yeah, that..."

Glorfindel's arm tightened around her. "Rundil was a visitor of Minas Morgul for a while."

The three nobles' features sharpened. "How long?" Elrond asked.

"Legolas worked out it was around three months," Rundil said.

"You met the princeling?" Glorfindel asked with a grin in his voice.

"Unfortunately. I left Eylra with him. They are hopeless."

"So adorable. Why don't you get all flustered when I am around, Rundil?"

Rundil snorted. "I am not a shy damsel."

"Of course not. How silly of me. You have a horselord for a lover, after all."

"Glorfindel!" came Elrond's disapproving tone. An eyebrow was added for good measure.

"I apologise profusely, Lord Elrond," he said with a mischievous smile.

Rundil bumped him with her hip. "Behave."

Before Glorfindel could retort, Lord Elrond quickly asked, "Have you been seeing any healers?"

"Oh, yes, your sons are taking excellent care of me."

"Three months," Lady Galadriel breathed. "What damage does that do to the spirit?"

"A lot," Rundil assured her. She saw Lord Celeborn hide a grin.

"And you learned how to protect your mind in three months' time?"

Rundil shrugged. "Sauron is a very good teacher."

Glorfindel dropped a kiss on her head. "I love your morbid humour, Elfling."

"Love you too, Goldie."

"Goldie?"

"Isn't there something about a golden flower? And all the Vanyar hair."

"Been reading up on genealogies?"

"Oh yes, my darling rebel."

There came an intake of breath from the lady.

Glorfindel put his hand over Rundil's mouth. "We need to have a discussion on sensitive topics, Love. And not comparing Estel to a horse."

Lord Elrond lifted an eyebrow. "Eomer King," Glorfindel said by way of explanation.

Rundil was sitting on the rail of the paddock, watching Eomer work Firefoot in an attempt to clear his head. The figures of the twins approaching claimed her attention.

"Rundil," Elrohir grinned.

"Anything you wish to share?" Elladan inquired.

Rundil opened her mouth to tell them about Firefoot's excellence, but Elladan held up a hand. "Specifically concerning a certain golden-haired balrog-slayer?" he asked.

"He looks pretty good for a guy that died."

"Why did you kiss him?" Elrohir asked.

"I didn't kiss him!"

"You did."

"Elladan, tell him he has it wrong."

"Sorry, hon. I saw it with my own eyes. When you greeted him."

"Oh. But that was just a peck. You make it seems like we had a hot, intimate…"

"Lalalala, I am not listening to this!" Elrohir said, pushing his fingers into his ears.

Rundil rolled her eyes. "Oh alright!"

Elladan turned sharp eyes on her. "So you have kissed him casually before?"

"Yes, of course."

"Since when?"

"Errr… since the beginning I guess?"

"So you just kissed the man when you met him for the first time?"

"No, of course not! I think it started when we began sleeping together."

Elrohir spluttered and Elladan seemed somewhat green.

"Oh please, I'm not stupid. I know it means marriage. I meant that in the literal sense. When we travelled to Harad with Mith, we sometimes shared a bed due to space constraints or acted like a couple, since it is indecent in the Eastern cultures to travel together without being married." Her eyes regarded them shrewdly. "What is this all about?"

"Do you, er, generally go about kissing people?"

Rundil pulled up her nose. "No."

"Just Glorfindel?"

"Hey, now listen here, if you insinuating there is any romantic attachment…"

"He calls you love."

"You are the first person I have ever seen him kiss. Or hold hands. Or touch like that."

"Like what?"

"Like, I don't know, like you're a woman," Elladan said.

Rundil smirked at him.

"Look," he said, frustrated, running a hand through his hair "You two are touching more than Legolas and Eylra."

Rundil snorted. "Everybody touches more than Legolas and Eylra. They are so awkward it is painful."

"Point being, you are acting very couple-like."

"I haven't seen the man in two hundred years."

They dropped it after that and joined her on the fence, calling out bad advice at Eomer. He threw them a rude gesture before focusing on the horse again.

"How is he doing?" Elladan asked quietly.

Rundil pursed her lips. "He is doing as well as he can. Hopefully my latest scheme will help."

"And pray, what does Lord Glorfindel think of the two of you?" Elrohir winked at her.

Rundil punched him.