Faramir found Eomer in the great hall. The young king was distracted. He looked at the throne. "It's nothing more than a chair. The crown holds no great power." It was quite a shock to Faramir to hear Eomer speak with such apprehension. The Rohirrim were a proud people, and yet here their king stood unsure of himself.

"I came to apologize for my cousin." Confused, Eomer's brows came together. "Lothiriel, the woman who rebuked you in the Houses of Healing."

It dawned on Eomer to what the captain was referring. "She was spirited."

"I am not sure she is completely used to the shift in power. My father did not control the women; he ignored them. Lothiriel is the only person who took interest in the lives of the women in Gondor." Faramir felt like he was defending his cousin; he wanted Eomer to think well of her.

"There is very little that your cousin is afraid of?" Eomer suddenly seemed very curious. Perhaps Lothiriel was just a distraction from his troubles but either way Faramir gave in and told Eomer about his cousin, her visits to Minas Tirith, her brothers and Dol Amroth.

Soon they were both laughing. "She always hated coming to Minas Tirith. My father would tell her what to do and she would do everything she could to undermine him."

"Like what?" Eomer smiled; his own troubles completely forgotten for the moment. "What was the most memorable event?"

Faramir grinned, "Well she once rearranged the kitchens. As high lady she is in charge of the city. She ordered the same thing for every meal for a week and a half, nothing but bread and tomatoes. He couldn't figure out who ordered the food and where to get more. It would have been more amusing if I hadn't also been forced to eat tomatoes all week."

They were still laughing when Gandalf came possibly called by their laughter. "Lord Faramir." The old wizard was ever respectful. "Have you seen your fair cousin about?"

Faramir had to stop laughing to answer. "Lothiriel is looking through the archives for a ceremony tradition."

"What is the importance of these traditions?" Eomer wondered aloud.

Gandalf's expression showed he understood Eomer's confusion. "There has not been a king in any living Gondorian's lifetime, but they all hold hope for their sovereign's return. Now that he has they wish to return to those days of glory."

"But the past can never be reclaimed." Lothiriel appeared a few books and two scrolls in her arms. "We are merely imitating it."

"Not exactly an unbiased opinion coming from you, my lady." Gandalf smiled. "This change demands more of you."

Lothiriel's expression turned suspicious. "What do you mean, Mithrandir?"

"I searched you out to ask a favor of you. In two days you will have no more responsibilities in the world of men." Gandalf's words probably should have made Lothiriel feel small, instead she looked relieved. "But every one of them will belong to Lady Arwen as queen. She knows little of Gondor and even less of Minas Tirith. Her knowledge of history and tradition will only get her so far."

"You wish me to train her." Lothiriel finished his thought. She added, "In two days."

Gandalf smiled, "I think you will find the queen a quick study."

"Have you knowledge of her whereabouts?"

Gandalf nodded and deemed to show her. This left Eomer and Faramir along again. "Spirited was perhaps an understatement." Faramir spoke in jest not criticism. And Eomer's loud laugh filled the hall.

Eomer then stood. "I believe you, Lord Faramir, are late to meet my sister." He helped the lord to his feet. "I will detain you no further."

It was a surprise to Faramir that the Rohan King made no threat or warning on behalf of his sister's honor. Not that one would deter Faramir, but he expected one from her proud brother. Perhaps the lack was in return for silence about Eomer's uneasiness.

Their usual garden was already occupied Faramir noticed by Eowyn. She looked out to the east. Satisfaction, not longing, displayed on her face. "This is a city of warmth and color again."

"It's amazing what the return of the king can accomplish." Faramir came to her side.

She turned to him. "But it is more than that. To me the world has warmth and color. No king accomplished that."

"Do you like it here in Gondor?" Faramir knew what Eowyn was referring to, but had a few questions of his own. "Will you miss it when you return home?"

Eowyn nodded. "I do love it here. I fear now no matter where I am my heart will miss another. For here I miss Edoras, but in Rohan I would miss Minas Tirith."

"What if I offered you an alternative?" Faramir was not nervous; he knew there was a strong connection between Eowyn and him. He would do whatever made her happy. "What about Ithilien?"

She blinked "What is Ithilien?"

"My family's home," he explained. "At least it was before our family was appointed to guard the throne until the king's return. Elessar has given me permission to return there. If you were to consent to be my wife, you would find a home there as well."

Eowyn's answer was in her eyes; they sparkled as they lifted to settle on his. "I could be happy no where else."

-x-

"Lady Arwen." Lothiriel felt like she was interrupting as her presences forced the king to separate from his betrothed. "There are a few things that the wizard Gandalf has asked me to teach you."

Aragorn's expression was one of wary curiosity. "What must she learn to be a queen?"

"Does every man in this land believe that a woman has no use?" Lothiriel spoke before realizing she spoke to the king himself. "I beg your pardon, my lord. The queen is more than your partner in life. She must also know the inner workings of Gondor and the white city. For she is also your confidante and advisor."

The lords of Gondor were correct; Lothiriel spoke without a second thought and she was not afraid to offend even him, the king. But Faramir was also in the right. She would make sure the ceremony was perfect. "Then I release her into your care."

"If you would come with me," Lothiriel spoke to Arwen, who rose and followed her back into the great hall. Eomer still reside there, searching for help in the image of a throne. "King Eomer?" Lothiriel asked her voice respectful. "Would you mind helping us?"

Eomer glanced between Lothiriel and Arwen then back to Lothiriel. "To help with the Queen's training?" Lothiriel nodded. "I would be pleased to help. What must I do?"

"For the moment just be a rider of the Riddermark."

"But I am." Eomer said slowly a bit confused. "I am a rider of Rohan."

Lothiriel smiled. "Yes, but you are also king and that has a different welcome. We'll start with the easier."

"Treat me as any of the Rohirrim." Eomer found himself returning her smile in spite of himself.

Picking up the first scroll, Lothiriel showed Arwen the writing. "For each kingdom there is a different welcome each for the respect of that nation. As an elf you would not have to be formal with those of your own race, if your traditions do not dictate such." She handed the scroll to Arwen. "If Eomer is a rider of the Rohirrim, what greeting would you say to him?"

"Welcome, rider, friend of our border."

"And as king?"

Arwen searched the scroll. "Greetings, brother, King of the Riddermark, protector of our mutual border."

"Brother? Protector?" Eomer was used to the Gondorians believing they were above the Rohirrim.

Lothiriel tilted her head. "These where written generations ago when our people where allies. We protected each other's borders and where aided by the same courtesy. Our people are neighbors and friends again. You and Aragorn fought side by side. You are allies again and deserve the respect that your fore-kings were given."

"Don't you think we're all barbarians?" Eomer's tone was serious, but his stern eyes held a hint of a twinkle.

Smiling, Lothiriel decided that Eomer was either the most confusing or the most interesting man she ever met. "That is what the stories say though it seems some may have been mistaken."

"What makes you say that?" Eomer's face twitched in concern. He certainly had not given her a better impression. Not that the new king was capable of caring at this moment. His worry was still attached to the throne waiting for him in Edoras.

"One of your men was in the houses of healing after the attack on my guard and the travelling elves. He was not angered by my lack of skill as a nurse. Even though he was injured, he made me feel at ease by telling me of his wife." Lothiriel got lost in her memory as she spoke, remembering the rider who called his wife a lady.

Arwen understood Lothiriel's distracted nature. "You come from a people of stories."

"I am what my father calls an unfortunate duality. Based on the order of my birth I was forced to live within the city from a young age, but above many of my kin I possess a stronger calling in my blood to that beyond stone. Much as my mother did, I find this city suffocating."

"It is the Elvin in you," Arwen spoke wisely. "That draws to nature. You were not meant to live in this city."

"Nor will I have to for much longer." Lothiriel smiled. "Congratulations are due you on your coming wedding, but more than that I wish to thank you for releasing me from this position." She had to pause to think of the correct final word.

Eomer watched the young princess and realized that her life was harder than he gave her credit for. Or she was complaining about a privileged life. But even he knew that everything came with consequences. Lothiriel lost her mother and her freedom. "Do you need my assistance any further?"

"No, thank you, King Eomer. Lady Arwen, would you accompany me to the houses of healing?" Lothiriel shook her head and was no longer Lothiriel, but the high lady. "As queen you will oversee all details of the city from supplies, personnel, and food to the quality of work being done."

The ladies left Eomer and headed as Lothiriel had stated to the houses of healing. The warden was busy attending to a patient, so Lothiriel showed Arwen where the basic supplies where kept. When they reappeared, the rider of Rohan, whom Lothiriel had tended, stood before them and bowed. "My lady, I must apologize."

"Whatever for, noble rider?" Lothiriel smiled at the honest confused as to why he would need to apologize.

The rider stood at full height and looked at her with contrition. "I mocked your nursing skills."

"No, sir, you did not. I mocked my nursing skills. You simply agreed to what was truth." She places a hand on his arm. "I would like to introduce you to Lady Arwen, the King's bride."

Arwen and the rider were both conscious of the honor she paid them. The elf inclined her head and the rider bowed. "Lady Lothiriel spoke highly of you."

"Thank you, my lady," he said to Arwen then again to Lothiriel, who laughed.

"I merely spoke the truth." As she spoke Eomer appeared with a ranger that Lothiriel recognized instantly. "Ardmonth, what are you doing here?"

The ranger seemed hesitant, but stepped up to her. He was breathing heavily and shaking. "My lady, your sister and nephew are on their way to the capital." He wavered some on his feet and the Rohan King steadied him with a hand before calling for a chair. The injured rider brought him one for the ranger.

"When did they leave?" Lothiriel asked glancing at the large map on the wall.

The rider sat heavily; the king's hand stayed on his shoulder keeping him upright on the wood. "The day after you, my lady."

"That means they should be within half a day's ride from the city." Lothiriel followed the path from Dol Amroth to Minas Tirith with her one long finger. "They must be nearing the pass."

"Yesterday, we came across evidence of raiding parties. I was sent ahead to bring you a message. Your brother's wife wishes you to send your guard back for her son." The rider spoke between sips of water that a healer gave to him.

Lothiriel glanced at Timlin. "Are you set to ride?"

"Of course, my lady," Timlin automatically replied.

"Do not lie to me," Lothiriel countered harshly. "If you are not able to protect the heir of Dol Amroth you must be honest with me now."

"I am able, my lady," the captain of her guard repeated. "However, there are only three members of your guard left able to ride. I fear that if the attack on the heir is as great as that one that was sent after you, we will be of little difference."

"Why are there so few left?" Ardmonth asked.

"We took the path," Lothiriel confessed.

Eomer who had been watching the exchange carefully asked, "More dangerous?" They nodded. "Then why did you take it?" This was directed to Lothiriel.

"Because I needed to be here for the wedding."

"This need was so great that you were willing to risk your life?" Eomer was actually concerned, but it came out as a reprimand.

Lothiriel lifted her gaze to his. "I was told the Horselords were a people of honor seeped with ancient tradition. Would you not also risk your life to protect your way of life, Eomer King?"

"It is a wedding," Eomer countered simply.

"Of the king," Lothiriel added. "I would not risk my life nor those of any of my people needlessly. But the people of Gondor want their king and their king wants his queen. I do what I can to help the stability of my country." Every Gondorian in the room stood and pressed his fist to his chest. "What would you do to give your people hope?"

Eomer dropped his gaze. He still didn't know what he would do as king. Lifting his gaze back to hers, he nodded. "Your guard will not be enough so I offer you my men. Allow me to return your nephew to you." The riders joined the rangers in standing. "Rohirrim," Eomer called and every one of them gave him a shout back.

"Your horn," Lothiriel gently demanded of Ardmonth. To Eomer, she explained, "My brother Amrothos will ride with them. He and the guards will carry horns. Blow one continuous tone for a call. Short bursts signal an attack." The man in the chair was about to object. "Ardmonth, you are too weak to return for your prince. As far as I am concerned you have saved my nephew. Allow others the same honor."

Ardmonth stopped what he was about to say and instead looked at the horn in Eomer's hand. "Your brother may not trust a man who arrives with an army of horsemen, only three of your guard and a horn of the man sent ahead with a message as his claim to help."

"Perhaps you are correct," Lothiriel agreed. For a moment Eomer feared Lothiriel might refuse his aid. Instead she wrapped her hand around the stone at her breast. "Show this to my brother. He knows I would never allow hostile hands to possess it."

Eomer looked down at the necklace in his hand, but only nodded. "We will be back before the ceremony." He left the room before Lothiriel could speak. And every able-bodied rider followed him. Those that were not only stayed due to forced submission.

Pausing only for a moment, Lothiriel ran and caught the arm of the rider she had bandaged. "I ask a favor of you. Look out for my brother's wife. She is with child."

"Of course, my lady." He smiled and bowed before heading to the stables with his brethren.

Lothiriel headed to the courtyard. From the stables the riders would have to head through there to gain passage through the city. She was not disappointed when Eomer appeared before his men. She was struck by how his hair blended with the decoration of his helmet. "You have something else you wish to add, Princess."

From atop his horse, Eomer looked down on her and Lothiriel suddenly felt very small. "I wish to make a request of you away from prying eyes."

"Yes," he spoke gruffly, but she sensed the curiosity within him.

"I know you don't hold stock in our traditions, but I have lived by them for so long that I believe in them." Lothiriel swallowed. "It may seem forward, but the lady of Gondor can wish luck on a warrior before a hunt or in times of war and battle."

Eomer was more than curious. "Wish luck?" Why did she need to wish him luck in private?

"Yes," she nodded, "Generally it would be upon her husband, but your success is of such great importance that I feel the need to aid you in some way." She walked up to him and placed a hand on his horse's neck. The animal calmed. "My lord."

Looking down Eomer held out a hand to her. She took it and he pulled her up in front of him on Firefoot. "How is this luck wishing more than the words?"

Lothiriel touched the hair on his helmet. "In truth, it would be a kiss, my lord king, but I am not so forward as to demand that of you."

Instead of waiting for her to finish, Eomer pressed his lips to hers quickly and as dispassionately as he could. "Your luck has been given, my lady. Our success is now certain."

Nodding Lothiriel removed herself from his horse. She headed back inside without looking back. Her thoughts were consumed. She was bothered by the content hum that passed through her body. And yet the king only bore the kiss as best he could because of her pleading. If he was going to make it such a chore, he should have listened to her long enough to hear her version of what the ritual should be. That would have saved both of them the awkwardness.

Eomer followed suit, silently cursing himself. Though he'd wanted to speed up the conversation because his men could appear at any moment, he should have known that Lothiriel's lips would be soft and comforting. What he hadn't expected was for her kiss to taste of wild sweet-grass. Princesses were supposed to taste sweet and smell like flowers. Lothiriel tasted like home and smelled like the open air.

Watching her leave, Eomer knew the Gondorian Princess was not pleased. In a way he had meant to anger her. Taking a kiss to prove that he would obey the tradition only on his terms, but now he felt like a fiend for stealing what was hers without her consent. Apparently she had many reasons to think ill of him.

Another horse appeared to his right and Elfhelm commented, "The Princess is a lovely woman." Glancing at his friend, Eomer nodded slowly. "And brave." Elfhelm achieve what he was looking for, Eomer's curiosity. "She fought alongside her men to aid us and our elven rescues. Her captain had to convince her to ride to the capital ahead of us."

"Why are you telling me this, Elfhelm?"

The rider smiled in response and looked out over the city. "This country has been in turmoil, but the king brings them hope. Stability is the key and that can be achieved best by the king surrounding himself with good allies, advisors and most importantly a queen."

"Are you suggesting I marry the high lady of Gondor?" Eomer spoke surprised. Their two peoples were so different. There was no way she could survive his people. She would look down on them as barbarians and they would think her a snob.

Elfhelm placed his helmet on his head. "Rank has nothing to do with it, my king. It is her personality that I believe recommends her."

"She certainly wouldn't let you get away with anything," Timlin added and Eomer looked over his shoulder to see the three remaining of Lothiriel's guard. They were watching him with measured eyes, but confident expressions.

"What do you think, captain?" Eomer asked of Timlin.

"I know my lady's temperament, my lord. She was never truly happy here." The captain indicated the city with a pass of his hand.

Eomer frowned. "And you think she'd fair better among horselords?"

"Honestly, my lord, I don't even think you could tame her, but she would be happier among fields than stone." Timlin paused considering his next words. "And you would have a difficult time finding a better queen for your people or wife for your heart."

"Captain, I take your words and counsel, but I believe your mistress could not do worse than me." Eomer smiled grimly. "I am no man for a woman to give her heart to."

"Her own father speaks highly of you," Elfhelm pointed out.

Eomer nodded. "Ferociousness is a quality appreciated in a warrior, but the qualities of a warrior and that of a husband are quite different."

"And yet many warriors are husbands and many husbands, warriors." The other riders appeared ready to ride to the rescue.

Looking over his men, Eomer nodded. "Today we are not husbands. Rohirrim ride."