Who to go to first? Eowyn, my dear friend who I could pierce with an arrow at times? Olfete, the woman who took it upon herself to stay with me and care for me after my mother passed? Or Eo-

'Ouch!' I bumped into someone as I was too busy with my own thoughts to look where I was going, but that person was walking so fast that I plummeted to the ground, 'watch where you are going and save me from a couple of bruises while you are at it!' I exclaimed before I even saw who it was. Big mistake.

'I have been sent on a merry chase! A case for the Kings most trusted advisor, I was told, of utmost importance, they told me! A flock of geese that terrorized the chickens, geese! No one knows where they came from, Grima! The closest pond is miles away! This mystery has to be solved, Grima, for the King needs his chickens calm and peaceful so his morning eggs are not foiled!' I was still on the ground and he was towering over me as he voiced his displeasure. Definitely Olfete. I had to do my best not to laugh.

'Geese! In the Mark?' I tried to sound sincere, I really did. Unfortunately for me, Grima was also not so easily fooled.

'Mark my words, Sorrun, I will find the one responsible for this waste of time, and I will repay them in kind,' and with one last glare towards me, he stormed away. I, however, had no time to process what had just all come to pass as I heard someone approaching me. Was everyone out and about, strolling around the halls of Meduseld this night?

'What are you doing on the floor?' Eomer said behind me. I dared not look up, not yet.

'Admiring the new tiles your uncle has had placed,' I said.

'They're not new,' He responded.

'Really? You'd think I'd be able to see that, me being so close to them and all,' as Eomer laughed - a sound I rarely heard anymore, my head jerked up in response. He was smiling down at me and reached out his hand. He seemed in a better mood than usual. Him being the Third Marshal of the Mark, he was away a lot. He had recently returned and was yet to receive new orders. My guess was, with Grima in such a good mood after today, that he would be sent on patrol again soon enough.

'So?' he asked. Well, I guess that solved my initial problem of "who to tell first?".

'I bumped into Grima on my way back from Theoden King,' I said. His good mood vanished, but his hands stayed on mine after he helped me up. He led me a little further down the hall, towards one of the doors that led outside.

'Why were you with my uncle? And why did Grima leave you on the flo- never mind that. Why were you with Theoden?' it was hard to control my emotions with him near, and it was a real battle to fight the butterflies in my stomach at the sight of worry for me so evidently on his face.

We had stopped walking and were standing close to each other at the edge of one of the viewpoints that looked over Edoras. I was not sure this was the right place for this conversation, but I dared not alarm him more by suggesting we should find a quieter spot to talk. Eomer was, much like me, prone to little outbursts of emotion and I could guess what his response was going to be. Eomer placed his hands on my cheeks and forced me to look up at him - I was taking too long to answer again. No one particularly liked it when I did that.

'Tell me,' he demanded, not unkindly, and I closed my eyes for half a second, bracing myself.

'I heard you, Theoden Prince and Theoden King talking to a traveller about a dream the traveller had. The dream had left the man uneasy and it had told him to seek answers in Rivendell, where a meeting would take place that could very well determine the fate of Middle Earth. He proceeded to ask if someone of the Mark would join him, but the King said that no one could be spared. I suggested to the King that I should go,' his hands dropped from my face. For a moment he was quiet.

'And why,' he breathed, 'did you do that?' it was impressive really how fast his moods could change.

'Because I feel it is necessary for the Mark to be part of the future of Middle Earth,' I said.

'That is not what I meant, Sorrun,' I knew that.

'Who else could have gone? Our Prince? Eowyn? You?' he took a step back from me so fast that I thought he had been hit by something.

'Anyone but you!' he nearly shouted. Now I must have looked as if I had been slapped in the face.

'What is that supposed to mean?'

Eomer and me fighting was nothing new; one cannot control fire by adding more fire, but we could both be a relentless forest fire when arguing.

'How do you see this happening, Sorrun? You just march up to Rivendell, say a few words to the elven lord on behalf of Theoden and then you will be invited along? You are not even supposed to know of the existence of the meeting!' two things I love most: the over excessive use of my name, and answering a question with another question. Bema, he could make me angry.

'Well, that is about the jist of it! If it was all supposed to be so secret, how come you know of it? It was talked about in a tavern. And what did you mean, anyone but you?' I really wanted to know.

'I am the Third Marshal of the Mark and-'

'A bloody arrogant one at that!'

'- the King and Theodred value my opinion in matters as such, unlike some others,' if he could breathe smoke through his nose, this is when it would have happened. A dragon would have been impressed; he was fuming.

'Do not make false pretenses I do not value your opinion, I just do not ask your permission as that is a completely different matter!' I had raised my voice slightly in my response. Olfete once said I am a force of nature when I am angry, but it was not until my arguments with Eomer became more frequent that I realised she was probably right.

'I swear to the Gods, Eomer, if you do not tell me why you think I am not suited to represent the Riddermark -' he did not even let me finish.

'Well, you should ask my permission! Clearly you are not capable of making such decisions on your own. You are not going and that is final,'

Everyone deals with anger differently. Olfete starts crying out of frustration, Eowyn likes to hit things, Theodred grows scarily quiet like a calm before the storm, and Eomer and me… we like to make things worse.

'Excuse me? Final, you say? Well, Eomer, son of Eomund, Third Marshal of the Riddermark of Theoden King, do I have news for you. You cannot forbid me things. I am going and that is final!' when I compare Eomers anger to mine, I would say his is hot because he shouts and starts moving around restlessly. Mine is colder, maybe even harsher. Most of the time I do not raise my voice, but all warmth disappears and there is no trace of friendliness left as I grow distant. Eomer stopped dead in his movements and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he faced me with an expression I had never seen before. There was so much anger, but also worry, hurting, pride and something I could not quite place, but my heart skipped a beat at it.

'How can you be so stubborn, woman? Can you not see - that it is - foolish - that is to say…I will talk to Theoden to-', now it was my time to interrupt him.

'You will do no such thing! I have asked you several times why you deem me so incapable of attending the meeting on Theoden King's behalf, and I had no idea you have so little faith in me! All the journeys we had together, bringing the mark closer together and now you tell me that you do not want me to do that outside of the Mark, I simply can-'

'Marry me,'

The thing about fire is, though, that it burns out. Sooner or later there is nothing left to burn and the fire is no more. Normally, when Eomer says things like that - things that make my heart jump and my stomach flutter and my throat clench, the angry flames in me disappear, leaving only the warm and fuzzy feeling. But now I was confused.

I froze and was not able to look at him as I sorted through my thoughts.

Marry him? With all the misery that was going on in Middle Earth, how could be think of marriage? Why did he think of marriage? Simply because then he could finally forbid me to do things (or so he thought)? To keep me from going to Rivendell, to keep me from playing my part in whatever was to come? Was it - I swallowed - simply because he loved me so that he wanted to keep me safe and out of harm's way? When I finally found the courage to look at him again, I saw he was standing close to me again and saw his anger had gone, too.

'Marry me,' he said again and try as I might I could not look away. He even smiled, a smile that reached his eyes, a smile that said that even he was surprised at what he was asking, but it was a happy surprise. Only then did I realise he had grabbed a hold of my hands again and he held them over his heart. I still hadn't found my voice, but I knew my answer. I swallowed a couple of times and fought with all my power against the tears.

'I cannot,'