Léofe splashed water over her neck and arms, cleaning herself of blood and other fluids from the birth that she had just attended. Gerdhelm was now helping the new filly to suckle, and Léofe enjoyed the fresh air; a welcome change from the hot and smelly stables. She was picking the crud from under her fingernails when a distant whinny caught her attention.

She could see the prince - Théodred, he had asked her to call him - Théodred's mop of hair above the grassy knolls before the rest of him came into sight. And better yet than Théodred (who still made her heart beat faster), was the sight of Brego's proud neck and he trotted in her direction. It took an incredible amount of control for her not to rush the pair, and Théodred alighted before her while she dried her hands on her dress.

"I thought you might be missing your friend," he said without preamble, patting Brego's neck. The stallion had seen her, and was fidgeting between his own instinct and his master's command. Keeping his eyes fixed on Léofe, Théodred said to Brego in a low voice and with a wry smile, "Go to her."

Brego obliged, nuzzling her under her chin as she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed with all her might. He had grown! Not so much in size as ego, she thought. Though his manners had improved somewhat as well, for at the prince's murmured command, he stood still to allow her to stroke him with affection. The hair-eating had apparently been disposed of. "Did you miss me?" she whispered, pulling away slightly to look into his eyes. "Because I have missed you greatly. There has been no other horse as wonderful as you. Oh, Brego!"

The prince coughed beside her, and seeing his amused look, Léofe blushed. "Thank you for coming," she said, remembering to be correct in her manners.

"Oh, not at all."

Another squeeze, and she released her hold on the stallion.

"He needs to be walked," Théodred said. "Would you join us?" Startled by his generous offer and rather discomfited that the prince was inviting her company, Léofe nodded in agreement, and the trio set off together through the ripened grass, heading east away from the house. His words had long since faded between them, and only the swishing of the grass and stamps of Brego's steps could be heard. She was considering whether to suggest turning for home when the prince spoke again. "Brego is not the sole reason I have attended to you today."

Her brows drew together in baffled suspicion. "Surely you did not come for our, er - bounteous table?"

A short laugh broke from his lips. "No, Léofe." That devastating half-smile of his remained on his face, and she looked away quickly before she was affected further. He was not offering any further explanation, and her discomfort grew.

"Now that I am sufficiently dying of curiosity," she said. "Why did you come?"

Théodred's mouth compressed, his hands clenching together as he held them behind his back. "War is coming, Léofe."

She could have rolled her eyes, but refrained. Surely she had enough bad qualities in Théodred's eyes. "That is not exactly a secret, is it?" she asked.

"I wish for you and your father to transfer your farm to another - safer- part of the Riddermark. I would suggest somewhere nearer to Helm's Deep, where you will be better protected while still having the perfect setting to raise your horses."

Léofe's mouth dropped open. "Transfer? You wish us to leave?"

"I wish you to be safe," An ironic glint hardened his eyes. "I would hate to lose such an experienced horse trainer."

"Ah, yes," she said, feeling dull. "We are an economic necessity. It would be most unfortunate if your family could not take our horses and gallop away."

"Léofe," Théodred said, his voice holding a warning tone. "That is largely unfair. I paid for Brego, and I bullied my cousin into paying for hers as well. And further, I wrote to my father quite some time ago that he abolish the law stating that any member of the king's family has a right to take any horse they wish. I understand that you may not have been aware of this, but I would appreciate not being made into an enemy."

Her face flushed pink, and resentment crowded her senses. Insufferable prince! But it was awfully rude of her to consider him insufferable for being so kind, and at such an inconvenience.

Théodred was still speaking. "The reason I ask that you leave this area is that the threat of orcs is increasing monthly. I have already spoken to the other villages and asked them to leave, though it seems that they would rather die in their own homes than keep their lives. I wish for you not to have that same foolishness."

"It is not foolish to want to keep our livelihoods," Léofe said. "My father will never leave." Théodred said nothing to this, and they continued walking in silence through the grass, the sun striking brilliant light across their path. She came to a decision. "I will speak to my father of the matter, and tell him of your counsel," she said. "But I will abide by his decision, whatever it may be."

"A fair judgement."

A quiet tenderness was filling her breast at Théodred's attentiveness and concern. She pushed it down hurriedly, unwilling to face her own feelings. Why would a prince think of me? "Are there any happenings of note in Helm's Deep?" she asked to put him from her mind. "You mentioned a cousin. I should like to hear about her." The worry was drawn from his face with a brilliant smile, and Léofe struggled to keep from gaping. He was so bloody handsome!

"Them, actually. Éomer is the elder; he and I share many qualities. Though I was raised as a prince for all my life, and him for only part of his. He is less disciplined than I, though a more natural fighter. I must warn you never to be deceived by his brawn if you were ever to meet him - he has one of the most tender hearts I have come across. My father has always been driven mad by Éomer's overuse of paper - he enjoys to draw, as strange as it might seem."

"I see," Léofe said slowly. "Cousin Éomer; a frightful warrior and romantic soul. Not baffling, not at all."

"It certainly baffles me. I imagine the woman he marries one day will be very special indeed."

"And your female cousin?"

"Éowyn? A shieldmaiden, and I am very sorry to say it. She is a natural tactical mind and on more than one occasion I have found myself beaten by her. Avoid playing chess with her at all costs, Léofe. She has not lost a match in probably eight years. Her new horse, which I mentioned, is the grumpiest nag I have ever had the displeasure to come across."

Léofe laughed then. "I highly doubt I shall ever be privileged to meet the lady Éowyn."

"Do not be so quick to shed the thought from your mind!" Théodred suddenly seemed agitated, and he squared his shoulders. "I mean to say - you are young yet, there are many years left in your life to do as you please. There is a great horse trading festival in Edoras in springtime. You would enjoy it, I think, and your father's farm would benefit greatly. I do not lie when I say that your horses are the diamond of the Westfold."

"Well," she said, turning her face to hide a blush. "That is a very pretty compliment."

"Not exactly a compliment. More a statement of fact."

They had arrived at a old circle of barrows, a rather mysterious place where Léofe had played often as a child. She had always imagined them being the burial spots of long-dead kings of a forgotten kingdom, though her father had laughed at the idea and told her that his grandfather used them to store winter supplies. Being summer, they were covered in cheery green grass, and the dandelions that decorated them were fluffy and white. Brego immediately set to work relieving the barrows of the weeds, and Théodred took the opportunity to pat his neck affectionately. "Would you care for a rest, Léofe? Brego seems inclined to one."

She sat down heavily at the top of the mound, tucking her feet under her and flicking a tick from one of the tall grasses. To her surprise, Théodred took a place beside her, lying on his side and looking far more relaxed than she had ever seen. The thought made her heart beat fast, and she keep her eyes down. "Are...er, your men around?" she asked.

"I am sure of it. They are supposed to keep out of sight, though if you wish to keep their company I can summon them."

"Oh, no," she said quickly. "I was only wondering. And I do find it curious that Erkenbrand scouts so often. To me he seems so large and boisterous that he would give up his position straightaway."

A soft chuckle escaped Théodred's lips, and he cast her an amused look. "Your assessment is fairer than you know. I bring him here because he is trustworthy, not for his stealth. Were this area more dangerous, I would choose another."

"I see," she said, running her fingers through the lush foliage. "I - I could not imagine being followed. It must trouble you."

Théodred was studying a dandelion in his hand. "It does not any longer," he said quietly. "It used to. I suppose having one's uncle by marriage as one's guard does help in that endeavor." He looked up to her gaping mouth, and his lips turned into a half-smile. "Have I not mentioned it? Erkenbrand is married to my aunt."

"Of course I did not know," Léofe said.

"Well, it is the truth. They married - oh, twenty years ago or so. I was only nineteen years old at the time."

"Do they have any children that I ought to know about? For future reference, I mean."

"No," he said, and his brows creased. "They have no children."

A burning sense of embarrassment had her flushing red. How much more tactless could she be? It would be terrible to have no children after so many years of marriage, and she was speaking of the entire matter so lightly. A prince would never love a girl so...thoughtless.

"I ought to return," Théodred said abruptly, and he stood, brushing off his trousers. He held out a hand to help her to her feet, and after a brief, stunning moment of weightlessness, Léofe found her nose only a scant few inches from his broad chest. He was looking down at her, looking rather serious. His loose hair was casting a shadow across his face, and a thrill of a peculiar sort nearly had her knees shaking. He was still holding her hand, and the warm, enfolding sensation made her feel safe, for all its strangeness.

"I should return as well," she said, wishing the barrow might open up and swallow her whole. Likely her face was a ruddy as a patch of poppies by now. Théodred nodded, dropping her hand but otherwise staying where he was. She immediately wrung her dirty apron together, wanting to both forget and remember the sensation at once.

"Brego and I will visit again soon," he said. "Keep yourself safe."

She stayed on the mound even after he took his leave, watching from the opportune vantage point Théodred's straight back as he and Brego turned west to be joined by Erkenbrand and Allred. Soon they were lost in the grass, and Léofe collapsed, holding her hands over her face and wishing that life had dealt her a different lot. To love a prince! And she a simpering, penniless youth. What had she done to deserve such a curse?

The sun began to set as she sat there, turning the grass gold and the sky pink. The soft whisper of grass no longer comforted her, and she wiped her eyes before standing. Likely her father was wondering where she had gone. Had he not seen Théodred? Probably not - and for that, Gerdhelm was probably quite worried. She started down the barrow, when the clinking of metal and the sound of hoofbeats reached her ears. She looked up - was Théodred returned? - her heart skipped a beat, and nearly as quickly - she frowned in disappointment. The rider that came into view from the south was certainly not Théodred.

He caught sight of her, and turned his plodding horse in her direction. Léofe stayed where she was, distrusting the ragged sight of the man and of the horse's trembling legs. The man was dark-haired and his tunic was decorated with a silver tree. He inclined his head in her direction, and then spoke. "I must buy a fresh mount at once. Is there any place hereabouts I might do so?"

His Rohirric was accented, but his grammar was sound. For that, she could forgive him. "My father sells horses," she said, and pointed back towards the farm. "That way."

.

.

Léofe pushed through the stable door, directing the man to leave his horse in an empty stall. He did as she directed after relieving his mount of his saddle, and then followed her through the stables. "How far are you going?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Very far. I need an exceptionally hardy mount. Food will likely be in short supply, and time presses me."

"I see," she said. "But that is hardly an ideal situation for a horse. I am loath to send one to its death."

The man's face tightened considerably. "Please, I beg of you. My Hildarin has suffered enough."

Far be it for her to send away a paying customer. Léofe stopped outside a stall and snapped her fingers, the bay stallion in residence peeking out his nose. "This is Swiftfoot. He will carry you many miles with few problems. He is as hardy as they come, and young to boot."

"Good, good," the man said, running a hand along the horse's nose. "I will take him. Might I also purchase some food?"

"We do not have much, but you are welcome to it," she said, unlatching the stall for Swiftfoot to meander out, still curiously eyeing his new master.

"I meant to stop in Edoras for a horse and supplies," the man explained as the trio left the stables. "But I was warned by a marshal that I ought not to. He said that this area near the river Isen has many breeders."

Gerdhelm was smoking on the front steps, and when he saw their guest stood quickly, unbalancing himself before Léofe hurried forward to catch his arm. "Welcome, my lord," he said. "Is there anything else we can supply you with?"

"Your - er, daughter said that I might be able to purchase food."

"Indeed. Run inside and fill a sack, goosey."

Léofe was already on her way, leaving the men to discuss Swiftfoot's price. She wrapped a loaf of bread in a linen sack, and to it added parcels of dried fruit as well as several fresh carrots. That should keep the horse energized for some time, she thought, and returned outside. The sun had disappeared from the horizon, the landscape now only lit by its hazy afterglow.

"Thank you, mistress," the man said, accepting the sack. "And thank you, master Gerdhelm. I shall be on my way."

"If you are in need of rest, you are welcome to spend the night," Gerdhelm said. "There will be no moon tonight, if you are intent on pressing forward."

The man paused as he slung the saddle over Swiftfoot's back. "No. I must continue."

Léofe could not help but stare at his back as he galloped away. "That was rather odd," she said.

"Perhaps. But I can forgive him that," Gerdelm said. "For he payed us triple Swiftfoot's cost."

"Triple!"

"He was evidently in quite the rush."

"But triple," she murmured. "Now I feel as if I should have given him more food."

Gerdhelm lumbered through the door, tossing his pipe on the table. "Before you go to your chores, goosey," he said as she started to turn away. "You were missed this afternoon."

Oh, that their mysterious customer had distracted her father only a bit longer! "I am sorry, Papa," she said, trying to sidle away from his suspicious stare. "I - I went for a walk and I was distracted."

"Distracted!" Gerdhelm harrumphed, pulling out a chair to sit and stretch out his bad leg. "The prince's eyes are probably very distracting for a moon calf like you!"

Léofe flushed. "You knew he was here?"

"I may be half-lame, goosey, but never blind."

"Well," she said, determined to avoid any more questions. "Well."

"Léofe," he said, his gruff voice holding a tone of warning. "He is the prince."

"I know that, Papa," she said. "I - I haven't gone and fallen in love with him, if that's what you are getting at. He brought Brego to see me."

"Did he now?" Gerdhelm's eyebrows disappeared into his mop of grey hair. "Then perhaps I should have a chat with him instead of you."

"It does not mean anything, surely," she said hastily. "And in any case, I really must start my chores before it gets any darker."

He waved her away, ending the conversation. Léofe's formed sank into the shadows, and Gerdhelm sighed mightily as he started to rub his aching knee. As naive as his daughter was, the prince was not such a mince-head. No lordly marshal would be calling on a young girl with no more notion than to let her see his horse. Well, if nothing else, the prince seemed honorable, and perhaps that was enough. It would a comfort to see his daughter set up better than she was raised. Gerdhelm sighed again and stood, setting his mind towards supper.

The lovely funkytoes drew a marvelous picture for this chapter as part of an art trade! There is a link to it in my profile, I do hope ya'll will check it out! :)