Edoras, I realized as we finally came in sigh of the city, was not the Rohirrim's answer to Minas Tirith.

The city stood like a wooden lighthouse alone on a barren green sea, and mountains gleamed in the distance. Green and gold flags – the same our company bore – flapped wetly from the ramparts, and here and there men could be seen walking along the walls. Thatched houses dotted the hill on all sides until they came to a massive building at the top, the King's House, which sat on the small mountain like a crown of gold and stone.

Nestled at the top of a steep, rocky hill in the center of an impossibly wide valley, Edoras was visible from miles around, and as our party began to climb, I began to realize that the city had a sweeping view of the entire valley and the several villages in it. The roads leading to the capital were filled with travelers and caravans, people coming to see the King or else sell their wares, and in the distance, I could see a herd of wild horses roaming the valley. It suddenly occurred to me that a culture that valued freedom and open space as much as the Horse Lords did would balk at the idea of a crowded city. In Minas Tirith, the Rohirrim had erected massive camps on the Pelennor fields rather than stay inside the gates; I'd assumed it had been due to logistics, but now I wondered if it had more to do with a lack of walls rather than a lack of beds.

"What do you think, Lady?"

Startled, I jumped a little. I'd forgotten Eomer was riding beside me. Since Amrothos and I were diplomatic guests of the King as well as his close personal friends, we were riding up front together. I smiled. "I think it's beautiful."

Eomer's eyes were bright as he looked at the city. "It's clouded now, but when the sun shines, the Golden Hall is lit up like a beacon of fire, and you can see her glow from miles away."

A lone voice in the back of the caravan rose up, and both of us turned to look back. More voices joined the song, until at last all the Rohirrim in our party, including the King, were singing in a cheerful, steady beat, and the music carried over the valley. Amrothos and I grinned at each other. Neither one of us could understand the words, but the sentiment behind it was clear: the Horse Lords were returning to Meduseld.

The song was taken up by the guards atop the gates as they opened, and a brilliant green banner rose over the walls to signal that the King was in residence.

The reason I had come at all, though, was glaringly obvious as we made our way through the city. The people looked hungry and worn – more so than in Gondor – and most of the houses were in disrepair. Men in crutches or missing limbs waved as we passed; chamber pots were tossed onto the street, which was filled with excrement – only Meduseld had plumbing; the wells I saw were few and far between, and women and children carried massive buckets up and down the hill. The city was crumbling, and I had a feeling that not all of it was from the war.

Three women were waiting at the steps of the Great Hall when we finally pulled our horses to a stop, and one of them, a startlingly lovely blond woman in her late teens, descended on us as we dismounted. "Lady Leigh, this is my sister Eowyn," Eomer introduced as she came over.

I curtsied low. "Your Highness."

Eowyn grinned. "None of that. I'm not one for ceremony." Eomer snorted, but hastily covered it with a cough when she shot him a look. She turned back to me. "You're Rose's kinswoman, are you not?"

"Uh, yes," I said blankly.

"She and I are very good friends," Eowyn told me. She met my gaze, and there was a glint in her eyes that gave me pause. "She sent a letter ahead of your party asking me to keep an eye out for you."

I blinked uncertainly, wondering if she was hinting at what I thought she was hinting at. "And what exactly did this letter say, your Highness?"

"Please, call me Eowyn, Dr. Stanton," she said, waving her hand dismissively, but her gaze didn't move from mine. Eomer stared at his sister in surprise, and I grinned in relief, catching what she'd called me. In a world without university degrees, "doctor" wasn't a term she would have heard unless Rose had told her exactly who I was.

Amrothos, however, didn't have any such knowledge, and was glancing back and forth between us in confusion. "What's a doctor?" Amrothos asked blankly.

"Lord Amrothos, what a pleasure to see you again," Eowyn greeted warmly, dodging the question. "I'm sure you both are weary. Allow me to show you to your quarters."

Meduseld was a deceptively large building. The front held the throne room and the various storerooms. The back, Eowyn explained, was newer and split into two wings: the East wing held the residences of the royal family and their guests, and the West wing housed the offices, meeting rooms, and libraries necessary for running a country. The two wings were separated behind the throne room by the kitchens.

Amrothos and I, as honored guests of the King, were placed in the East wing, our quarters opposite each other, and I followed Eowyn into mine as Amrothos parted to explore his own. "Wow, this is incredible," I murmured as I looked around. The stone floor was covered in several lush rugs, and a massive, colorful tapestry hung on one wall opposite a large fireplace and wardrobe. The bed itself, flanked by two bedside tables, was carved with images of horses, and a small window looked out over the vast White Mountains.

"I'm glad you approve," she told me, taking a seat on the bed as I looked around. "The maids will unpack your trunk when it's brought in."

"Thank you, Eowyn," I said sincerely.

She eyed me thoughtfully. "Is it true that you're here to build things?"

I laughed. "Not exactly. I'm here to design things that will make rebuilding Rohan easier."

"But you were educated in this...in your world," she pressed.

"Yeah. I studied these things for years," I explained distractedly. "Why?"

She was silent for a moment, and I finally turned to look at her. "Rose is one of my closest friends, and I respect her greatly... But this is my home, and these are my people. I need to know that you know what you're doing, that you can really do the things you claim."

I smiled at her gently. "I went through thirteen years of general education, then spent another eight learning my field and my specialty," I told her. "I achieved the highest level of education it's possible to get, at one of the most respected institutions in my world. I wouldn't have come if I didn't think I could be of real use."

She seemed to relax a little and offered a genuine smile. "I'm glad to hear it. Hopefully, I can be as useful to you as you will be to us. Rose mentioned that you didn't know anything about court life, and that I would need to teach you as I did her, once."

"Surely, it can't be that bad," I said in surprise.

She snorted. "This is court. Everyone is seeking power, and they will do whatever is necessary to get it. The fact that my brother sought the aid of a female is something that has had the Lords up in arms," she told me, standing and gesturing for me to follow. "You've already acquired enemies, Leigh, and people will be watching you and hoping you fail. What you do reflects on the King, since he vouched for you."

My eyes had been widening as I listened. "So you checking my credentials wasn't just for the good of Rohan, then."

She gave me a look. "No. My brother is new to the throne, and his reign is contested. Any missteps you make will be held against him. I don't envy you this job."

"Then why on earth did he ask for my help?" I asked incredulously.

"Because he trusts you, and the people he respects trust you," she said bluntly. "More importantly, he believes you can do it." She hesitated as she opened a door, and looked at me. "He showed me the irrigation system you designed. Many of our farmers are already adopting it."

I looked around the office she'd led me to. We were in the West wing, now. "What is this?"

"This is where you will work."

"This is my office?" I asked incredulously. The room was smaller than my bedroom, but clearly much more utilitarian. There was a large window along one wall and sconces every few feet that would doubtlessly keep the room well-lit at night. There was a couch beneath the window and massive desk faced the center of the room, and two cushioned chairs sat in front of a small fireplace. Two bookshelves by the door were partially filled with what looked like reference books – Eomer's doing, if I had to guess – and my desk was already stacked with papers and pens and rulers ready for me to use. I ran a hand over the desk, then looked up at Eowyn with a bright smile. "This is my office."

0o0o0o0o0

I looked up at a knock on my door and grinned, waving my guest inside. I sat back in my chair and held out my hands. "Well, what do you think of my new office, Romeo?"

"I think mine is bigger," he teased, coming to perch on my desk.

I laughed. "It's not always about size."

He smiled, then nodded at the papers I was writing on, one filled with calculations, the other with a list. "You've been here three hours and you're already working. I see you don't waste time."

"Well, these aren't designs, technically," I admitted. "This one is a list of supplies I'll need, and this one is a list of calculations for the Slide Rule I'll have to make."

He arched an eyebrow. "What's a Slide Rule?"

"It's just a quicker and more reliable way for me to do math," I explained dismissively. "It's one of the many drafting tools I'll need to design."

He picked up the sheet of calculations and scanned it dubiously. "This resembles no math I was ever taught. How does it work?"

I smiled and laced my fingers behind my head. "That depends. Do you really want to know, or are you just using me to hide from someone?"

He gave me a dry look. "How did you know?"

"You have a hunted look on your face." I winked. "Is it a marriageable young maiden, or an advisor?"

"An advisor," he sighed. "He wishes me to reinstate court... when anyone with a dispute or petition can see the King," he elaborated at my blank look. "My uncle ceased holding court when he became ill, and I have not yet taken on that burden."

"Why not?"

He rubbed his forehead. "Most disputes are now settled by the Lords of their district, but with all that has happened, there has been growing pressure to reinstate the tradition."

I studied him for a long moment, thinking. "What are the arguments?"

"Faith, I do not know. Since Grima's corruption, there have been murmurs of Lords abusing their power, and many in favor of reinstating court argue that having the King's ear will bring these abuses to light. Yet, others hold that the crown should put its power and might towards bringing Rohan into the future." He looked at me with a dry smile. "I have such a desire to knock heads together."

I grinned at him. "Easy there, sport. You actually have the ability to do that, now."

"Have you no opinion, then? This surely is a first," he added dryly.

I gave him a look. "Funny. You're a funny, funny King."

He grinned, then stood with a sigh. "I should return to my duties, and you to yours. Shall I see you at dinner?"

"Yeah." I hesitated. "Wait, Eomer." He paused at the door and turned. "What are your thoughts on it?"

He offered a dry smile. "I think that I am a soldier with no skill in law. And you, Lady?"

"I think you're one of the smartest people I've ever met," I said with a shrug. "And I think you have several advisors who will keep you from making a fool out of yourself. I can respect it if you don't think holding court is a good idea. But if you think it is, and you don't do it because you think it's too hard, then you're not the man I think you are."

He stared at me for a moment, then smiled and inclined his head with a little laugh. "If only my advisors had your knack for seeing the heart of the matter. I may just need to promote you."

"Oh, God, no," I laughed. "You don't pay me enough for that."

0o0o0o0o0

My education on life in Rohan began with a bang.

More precisely, it started with muffled curse, followed by what sounded like a candlestick hitting the wall. Whatever it was, it hit alarmingly close to my head, and startled me out of what was, quite frankly, a raunchy dream involving Rohirric horsemen and some 21st century firemen. Blearily, I blinked wide-eyed around my empty, dark bedroom, wondering what in the hell I'd just heard, when another loud thump came from the wall behind me, and I heard Eomer swearing in Rohirric again.

Groggy, confused, and not a little cranky, I pulled open my door to see two servants talking quietly in the dark hallway. "What's going on?" I croaked.

"Oh, forgive us, my lady," one of the boys hastily apologized. "It's time to wake up the King, but he..." The boy floundered and looked at his friend.

"It's our first morning on duty, and we aren't sure how to go about waking him," the other boy supplied. "He doesn't seem to want to wake. He threw a candlestick."

I eyed them. Neither boy looked older than thirteen or fourteen, probably pages, and were doubtlessly intimidated by Eomer. Not that I could blame them; if I didn't know him so well, the massive, powerful King would have intimidated me, too. "So the good King isn't a morning person," I surmised crankily. "Well, neither am I. Wait here."

The boys were left standing in the hall with bewildered looks on their faces, but I reemerged a moment later holding a pitcher, and they didn't have time to stop me before I brushed passed them into Eomer's bedroom.

The King was sleeping on his belly under a mountain of blankets, his face buried peacefully in his pillow. It might have been endearing if it weren't the ass-crack of dawn. As it was, I was now up hours before I needed to be, and if I was unhappy, Eomer damn well better be, too. Unceremoniously, I dumped the pitcher of water on his head.

The King came awake spluttering and swearing, lunging out of bed with a knife in his hand.

Eomer glared furiously at me as his brain tried to process what was happening, and the two pages cringed. I tried to imagine the situation through their young eyes: their King, a larger than life war hero, drenched and naked as the day he was born, furiously brandishing a knife, and a tall, strange woman in a shift staring him down grumpily. If I hadn't been so cranky, I might have smiled.

As it was, I wasn't in the mood for anything other than sleep, so I simply pursed my lips, arched an unhappy eyebrow at him, and shoved the pitcher in his hands. "It's time to get up. And stop throwing candles at the pages. It's not dignified," I tossed grouchily over my shoulder as I left.

0o0o0o0o0

That first day was when I got my first taste of the antagonism Eowyn had warned me about. I was on my way back to my office after having lunch with her, the two of us discussing the problems Rohan had that I could potentially create a solution for, and reading over the list we'd made. The most pressing need by far was for the windmills; if Rohan couldn't feed its people, then all the other problems were irrelevant. I'd have to finish making the tools I would need, but Eowyn had impressed the need for haste on me, and I was hoping to begin working on the first draft by the end of the day.

Focused on reading the list, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and ran into someone. "Oh, God! Sorry," I apologized hastily to the man. "Are you alright?"

Instead of a polite reply, the younger man simply looked at me. "You are Leigh Stanton, the Gondorian woman."

"Uh, you seem to have me at a disadvantage." The man was maybe 20, dressed in long robes, and unlike the other men I'd seen, carried no weapons. More importantly, he was looking at me like a fly drowning in his wine.

"I am Lord Fordwin," he told me coldly.

I blinked, momentarily startled at the unexpected hostility in his tone. "Uh, it's a pleasure to meet you, my Lord," I said, hastily improvising a respectful response.

"The King may be under your spell, but do not think that I will be so easily fooled. A woman is not suited to a man's work," he hissed. "You will learn your place, one way or another."

"Women belong in the kitchen?" I surmised coolly. "Well, I believe tools belong in the shed, but you don't hear me whining that they let you out. Have a nice day."

0o0o0o0o0

Eomer was staring at the fire when I found him. It was late in the night and he sat on a chair in his study, a stack of papers forgotten on his lap, brooding with a cup of what looked like whiskey in his hand. He looked worn.

"You can always behead them."

Surprised, he looked up at where I was leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed, and rewarded me with a smile. "Who am I beheading?"

"Whoever has you so stressed," I told him dryly as I pulled away from the doorframe. I took a seat in the chair beside his, crossing my legs and propping my chin on my fist. He arched an eyebrow at me and I gave him a knowing look. "It's written all over your face, Romeo."

He laughed tiredly. "Alas, I cannot order the execution of the High King of Gondor. Someone might take it as an act of war." He rubbed his forehead. "I've received a missive from Aragorn. He agreed to lend whatever aid he can, but his people fair hardly better than my own. He has little to spare." Eomer sighed, setting the stack of papers on the table and leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees, staring into the fire. "My people will not survive the winter if I cannot find a way to feed them."

"You're not alone in this, Romeo. You have an entire Council of experienced advisors, and you'll figure this out."

He snorted bitterly. "My Council is divided and at each other's throats."

"Then you have me," I countered firmly. He tore his eyes from the fire and looked at me. I met his gaze unblinking. "I don't believe in no win scenarios. There is a solution. We just have to find it."

He smiled. "You are so sure of yourself. Perhaps you should be king."

"Oh, you couldn't pay me enough to take that job," I told him dryly. "Now, walk me through it."

He studied me for a second, then shook his head with a small smile and sat back, crossing his ankle over his knee. "Saruman's army burned crops and fields and villages as they marched through the Westfold. Most of their stores of grain were destroyed or scavenged. They are surviving on what they can grow and storing the rest, but it will not last through the winter."

"Do you have a map of Rohan?" I asked, standing. "I don't even know what it looks like."

He nodded. "On my desk." I picked up a large scroll and unfolded it, making sure it was what I needed before sitting on the floor in front of him and unfolding it. I plucked his glass of whiskey from his hand unceremoniously and used it as a paperweight. "No, no. Of course you can use my drink," he said dryly.

I ignored him. "So this is the Westfold?" I asked, circling it with my finger. He nodded. "How is the Wold?"

"Largely unscathed," he told me, leaning forward again with his elbows on his knees, reading over my shoulder. "We've sent what stores they can spare to the Westfold."

"And the Eastfold?"

"The same." He leaned forward and circled a small area with his finger. "This is the area that bore the brunt of the damage."

"What about meat?" I asked, looking up at him. "It's bordered by the mountains and Fanghorn. That's good for hunting, right?"

He nodded. "Yes. We already have them smoking and preserving meat for the winter, but it will not be enough."

I rubbed my lips. "So that's no good." I thought for a moment. "So, basically, you need summer to last a little longer," I said slowly, an idea forming in my mind.

He raised an eyebrow. "Surely you cannot create a device to change seasons."

I laughed. "No, that's beyond even what I can do." I looked at the window. "But you have glass."

He watched me. "It is an expensive luxury."

"But you can make it," I mused thoughtfully. I looked at him. "What other resources does Rohan have?"

"You mean, what can we sell?" he asked. "Horses, mostly, but we also have wool from the mountain sheep. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking you don't eat wool, and I'm thinking winter is coming. I'm thinking we trade with Gondor for fish, and the rest we sell to the Dale, to the elves... to anyone with money."

"Money is not the issue," he countered. "We need food, crops, not coin."

I nodded, climbing to my feet, my mind already racing ahead. "I know. The rest..." I shook my head. "Look, I have an idea, but I need to make sure it's feasible before I say anything, ok? Just... Don't give up yet."

0o0o0o0o0

I spent the night in my office, drafting and researching. My eyes ached and I got a headache from reading and writing in the candlelight, and by the time the sun rose again, I would gladly have stabbed someone for just five minutes on Google.

Even though I knew the basic idea behind what I was designing, working out the details required heavy research and most of my time was spent painstakingly scrolling through Meduseld's limited books on science. My ability to read was new and not well practiced, and several of the more advanced books I couldn't translate at all. To make matters worse, many were in Rohirric, which I couldn't even speak, let alone read.

It took me all night and well into the day, but finally, exhausted but wired, I emerged from my office and went in search of the king.

Eomer was sitting on his throne. Advisors surrounded him, and he had an intense look of focus as listened to them argue. I hesitated when I saw Lord Fordwin among them. I hadn't seen him since his unprovoked attack the day before, and I wasn't sure I wanted him to see me the way I looked now; after an all-nighter, my dress was rumbled, my unruly curls had long since escaped from the bun normally wrestled it into, and my eyes were bloodshot from strain and lined with dark circles. Still, this was important. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I smoothed my gown, ran a hand through my wild hair, and approached the throne.

All five of them looked up and stopped talking when I came over. Well, that's damned unsettling. "Excuse me, my Lords," I said politely. Behind them, Eomer caught my eye and mouthed for me curtsy. Flustered, I hastily dipped and lowered my head, fanning out my heavy skirts the way Rose had taught me.

"Lady Leigh, you already know Commander Eothain, but may I present Lords Byrnhorn, Hildeson, and Fordwin," Eomer introduced, gesturing to each man in turn. Eothain grinned at me and I smiled back. Byrnhorn was an old man, eighty if he was a day, with spectacles, long robes, and a rather formidable beard; he would have reminded me of Dumbledore if he weren't looking at me like he'd just sucked a lemon. Hildeson looked to be about Eomer's age, and a seasoned warrior if I'd ever seen one: his belt carried a sword and a knife almost as intimidating as the scar that crossed over his eye. Unlike the others, he was neither welcoming not put off by my presence; he struck me as the kind of man to wait and watch before passing judgement, though he offered me a nod of acknowledgement.

"I need to talk to you... your Majesty," I added hastily when I caught Lord Fordwin raised eyebrow.

"Whatever you need to speak with him about can wait for our meeting to finish," Fordwin said, irritation dripping from his tone.

Eomer looked at him, his eyes narrowed. "I believe that is my decision, Fordwin," Eomer countered coolly. Fordwin's lips thinned, but he inclined his head respectfully, and Eomer looked at me. "This is regarding our conversation last night?"

"Yes, Sir." It was strange addressing him as a superior, but protocol was important in public. He raised his eyebrows expectantly when I didn't continue, and I looked at the others nervously, intimidated by the audience. Almost imperceptibly, Eomer quirked an eyebrow at me. I cleared my throat. "Remember when I said I couldn't control the seasons?" I asked as I went to his side, unfurling the long paper in my hand so he could see. "Well, turns out I lied."

"What am I looking at?" His eyes moved over the schematics. "This is some sort of building."

"Yeah... uh, I mean, yes, sir," I corrected myself, glancing warily at our audience over the paper. "It's called a greenhouse. It's made almost entirely of glass, which means the heat from the sun is magnified and trapped inside. This protects the crops from the elements and will essentially make the growing season last as long as you need. With a few alterations, we can even plant and grow in winter." I looked at Eomer seriously. "You asked me for a miracle that could change the seasons. I'm delivering one."

Eothain laughed. "I already liked the Lady, but now I think myself in love."

I grinned him, but Fordwin wasn't going to let that go. "Before we parade her about the city square, perhaps we should discuss the feasibility of her 'miracle'," Fordwin asked sarcastically. "For instance, how much would this 'miracle' cost the royal purse."

"Whatever it costs, if this can feed our people, we will find the money," Hildeson told him coolly.

Eomer's eyes narrowed pointedly at Fordwin before turning to me. "Your suggestion about the funds last night...it was to this you were referring?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Eomer looked over at one of the pages waiting discreetly by one of the pillars. "Eadwyn, take this to the Supply Master. Have him get an estimate on the cost."

"Right away, your Majesty," the boy said, swiftly taking the scroll from him. I grinned when I realized it was one of the kids from this morning. The boy grinned back at me before scurrying off.

"Perhaps," interjected Byrnhorn, "we should have someone more qualified examine the lady's work before we open the coffers, my Lord."

Eomer looked at me, more for my reaction than anything, I thought. I shrugged. "The more eyes on it, the better."

Byrnhorn and Fordwin looked slightly disgruntled by my easy acceptance, but Eothain gave me a nod of approval and I caught a hint of commendation in Eomer's eyes. "Very well. Lord Byrnhorn, I will let you employ who you will, but make haste. The sooner this is approved, the sooner it can be built." He looked at me. "Unless there is something else, I suggest you go to bed. You look like you're about to collapse."

I laughed. "You're not wrong. Thank you, my Lords," I said, remembering to curtsy again at the last second. Eomer's lip twitched; he'd noticed the near slip. I barely managed to keep from rolling my eyes at him as I left.

0o0o0o0o0