"I think I've forgotten the excuse I gave Folcred," Ailith said. Éomer chuckled and pulled her closer to him. They were lying in the shelter of a small knoll on the Plains, Éomer's cloak underneath them and Ailith's on top.
"I think it was something about replenishing your stocks," he said. She turned to face him so their noses were touching.
"And yours?"
"Do I need an excuse?"
She opened her mouth to answer but he swiftly kissed her instead. She smiled and climbed on top of him.
"Why do you wear these damn things?" he grunted as he tried to hitch her skirts up higher. With a carefree laugh, she pushed his shoulders down and then moved her grip to his wrists when he tried to pull his shirt off.
"I've seen your bare chest enough times and it's not exactly warm out here," she grinned, threading her fingers through his hair and leaning down to kiss him again.
"I doubt warmth is going to be an issue, Lady Physician," he said and wrapped his arms across her back.
They froze as they heard the thunder of hooves across the grass. Ailith rapidly climbed off Éomer and he pulled the cloak over her.
"Keep your head down," he said. She pressed her head into the grass of the Plains, her heart thumping.
She was both unmarried and a noblewoman. To be caught with Éomer like this would mean ruin. She did not care so much for the social exile but the shame on her people that would come with it. The people of the Wold would forever be looked down upon by the rest of Rohan. Situations like this happened all over the country; it was if the couple got caught that then the eyes would narrow and the lips would curl and whisper as they passed.
Also, although Théoden would never directly block a relationship outright without good reason, he still had some say in the marriages between his court. It was far too early in Éomer and Ailith's fledgling romance to even mention the word marriage but Ailith could not afford anything else to hurt her reputation.
"They've gone; they didn't see us," Éomer said after a while. She pulled the cloak off herself, her shoulders trembling.
"That was too close," she said, burying her head in her hands.
"Why are you so worried? We aren't going to get caught!" he blurted out. She frowned and looked away across the Plains. With a sigh, he pulled her into his embrace.
"We've done nothing wrong," he said calmly and pressed his cheek to the top of her head.
"We aren't a farmhand and his master's daughter on some holding in the Westfold," she said thickly. "We are important people in the court."
"We are not going to get caught," he repeated. "If and when we are ready, I will tell Théoden and everything will be fine."
"Has anyone else noticed? Lord Éomer has himself a woman hidden away somewhere," Dernhild said. Ailith's heart froze and she hesitated for a moment to calm herself. They were sitting in a corner of the Hall with the other women of the court, attempting to finish straightening Meduseld after the celebrations a few nights prior.
"What makes you say that?" Éowyn asked coldly. Dernhild made herself more comfortable on her seat. As more women looked towards her with interest, her smug smirk became wider and wider.
"Why, anyone could see it. You are his sister, you claim to know him better than anyone else. Do you not see it?" the elder woman replied. All the women looked across the Hall at Éomer where he was standing with the King and Gamling. He felt their eyes upon them and looked up at them. Ailith felt her heart pump and she hoped that he wouldn't look at her.
However, he was used to being ogled at by women. He was one of the most eligible men in Edoras; being a Marshal, a Lord and a very handsome young man.
He looked at them for a fraction of a second and then returned his attention to Théoden.
"I know him very well, Dernhild. I think he would tell me if he had feelings for someone," Éowyn said frostily and stood to leave. Ailith stood with her, wanting to get away before she made a mistake.
Dernhild raised her eyebrows.
"Well, if he has, I hope it just some serving girl who caught his eye," she said dismissively.
Éowyn spun around, fire burning in her eyes.
"Why, is my brother not good enough for anyone else? Are you hoping it is just some plain little wench so you can humiliate her like you do with everyone!" she snarled. Ailith laid a warning hand on her friend's shoulder.
Dernhild met her gaze coolly.
"No. I merely say that because we all know what happened the last time two of the nobility fooled around together," she said pompously... and then looked directly at Ailith. The other women clucked to each other and nodded their heads.
Ailith felt the heat rise in her cheeks. The old nag couldn't possibly be referring to her and Éomer. Nobody knew. They had not even confided in Éowyn yet as the relationship was so fresh. Her mind quickly ran through the other possibilities. She couldn't have been referring to that misunderstanding with Boda?!
"What are you talking about?" she asked slowly. Dernhild gave that cruel little smile again.
"Your mother could have had the pick of any Lord in the Riddermark. Instead, she lets her head get turned by your father when he comes to Meduseld to give a report," she informed Ailith. "Next thing we know, they have been having improper intimacies and she has got it into her pretty little head to run off to that heap of stone you call home."
She smiled as Ailith's face turned white.
"Do you want to say that again!" Ailith demanded shrilly. "My mother and father loved each other!"
Folcred detached himself from the group by the King and touched her shoulder with a concerned, "My Lady?"
"Nobody is doubting that they loved each other, child," Dernhild laughed silkily. "After all, she gave up all of this for a draughty, run-down hall in the North! And what did it do for her? Social exclusion and an early death!"
Folcred's hand instantly closed on Ailith's shoulder to warn her not to say anything.
"Lady Dernhild," he said. She sneered at his thick accent but lifted her chin to indicate she was listening. "Lady Gléowyn was only with us in our draughty hall for a short time but everyone loved and respected her. There are little girls on the Wold, who did not even know her, who have more respect for her than you just showed."
He moved his hand to Ailith's back and steered her away. He paused and clicked his fingers as if he had just remembered something. With a big false grin on his face, he turned back to her.
"One more thing. I am a happily married man and my wife is not your daughter. Please stop her from attempting to get into my bed."
As Folcred steered her from the Golden Hall, Ailith was vaguely aware of laughter and Dernhild trumpeting like a wounded mûmak. All she could think about was the anger, the red-hot anger building and building inside of her. The door to her chamber was opened and she walked obediently inside.
Next thing she knew, her sword was in her hand and a primal scream was exploding out of her mouth.
Éomer approached Ailith's room cautiously. Everyone had heard Dernhild's snide remarks and everyone had heard the screams of outrage echoing from Ailith's bedchamber.
Folcred was standing guard outside her room. He looked around and nodded when he saw Éomer.
"How is she?" he asked.
"She was just told that the mother and father she barely knew did not have a standard courtship," he said drily.
"Why should that matter to her?" Éomer asked cautiously. "The remarks were callous and unnecessary but she can usually brush them off."
Folcred looked him directly in the eye and then said, "Maybe she is worried that she is making the same mistakes."
Éomer felt his face colour.
"My Lord Marshal, the North waits for no Man. We do things differently on the Wold and as far as I'm concerned, you are both fully grown adults. There is no reason why you should play stupid courting games," the Captain said briskly. Éomer nodded and pushed open the door.
Ailith was sitting on the floor of her chamber, her mother's blue dress spread over her lap. He sat next to her.
"I'm doing exactly what she did. Except I can't run away," she mumbled quietly. Her hands clenched the blue material.
"I can barely remember her and now I find out that my perception of her is wrong."
"What can you remember?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Her expression softened.
"She had long, fair hair," she said quietly, "and she liked to sing. That's all really."
"I think she would be very proud of you. Both your parents would be very proud of you, Ailith. If you stop acting like a damn coward," he said.
"I'm not a coward!" she snapped, trying to get away from him. He pulled her in tighter and forced her to meet his gaze.
"Really? The Ailith I know would have given that fat mare a piece of her mind, not allow herself to be led off to work out her anger on the furniture of her chambers."
His hazel eyes flicked over to where her sword was embedded in her washstand.
"What's wrong with you? It's almost as if your fire is dying out, even as my sister's grows," he sighed. She didn't answer. He sighed again and stood up, pulling her with him.
"While you were having your little temper tantrum, the beacons were lit. Gondor requires our aid. Théoden is busy preparing for the Muster at Dunharrow. He is commanding all Riders to be present."
She met his gaze with a mischievous smile.
"All Riders, you say. How interesting."
"There's the Ailith I know. It would be a shame if the Riders from the Fortress did not have their Lord to lead them into battle."
"Yes," she said, turning to look at the chest where her armour lay. "It would be, wouldn't it?"
"Sire, I would speak with you a moment," Ailith said behind Théoden.
"I am very busy at the moment and I have no time to mediate any spats between you and the ladies of the courts," he said wearily.
"That is not why I wish to speak to you," she said earnestly. "I wish to ride with you into battle."
He looked at her in shock. She was dressed in the full, gleaming armour of a Rider. The green cloak was carefully arranged over her shoulders, her hair pulled into the half braid favoured by the Riders who liked their hair off their faces. Her young face was set in such a determined expression that for a minute he was reminded of her father.
"Battle is no place for women," he said.
"Nor is it a place for boys but you consented to let them fight at Helm's Deep. I won't allow my Riders to go into battle without their Lord," she said.
"And they won't," he said, clasping a hand to her shoulder. "If you think you are capable of fighting in battle, then of course you can join us."
Her eyes lit up and she had to fight an impulse to hug him. Instead she quickly bowed and then turned, her eyes seeking out her next target. She quickly crossed the Hall.
"Lady Dernhild," she said as she whipped one of her gloves from her belt and dangled it in front of Dernhild's face. "Next time you impugn the honour of my family, this glove will land in the dirt by the feet of your son. And let me assure you, I will win."
"You have no honour, no decorum!" Dernhild snarled, her face turning an ugly puce colour.
"Then I guess I am my mother's daughter," she replied. She smiled coldly and left the spluttering woman. Éowyn drew level with her.
"So, you are being allowed to fight then," she said unhappily. Ailith sighed expansively and linked arms with her friend.
"Do you want to know one of the major problems of a Muster?" she said. "There is an awful lot of spare armour lying around. More often than not, it goes missing."
She gave Éowyn a meaningful look. Éowyn smiled slowly as comprehension dawned.
"I should make sure I take my sword then. In case we have to... fight off any armour thieves," she said.