Notes: Chapter 5! we're almost at the halfway point for the story. I hope you're enjoying it!

Éomer and Amrothos leaned heavily on each other as the sun rose bright into the sky. Both men were in that sweet place between blinding drunkness and the sharp pains of the morning after and it felt good. The path back to the Prince's quarters was suddenly far steeper and filled with so many more obstacles than they remembered there being before. Three times now, at various points in the night Amrothos had suggested sleeping in a particularly lush crop of grass and three times now Éomer had refused and kept dragging the prince along to the next pub, the next girl, and now up a hill.

They groaned though as they recognized the figure trotting down the path, her cotton robes replaced and clean not five hours after they had left her.

"Gods damn you, Sister." Amrothos was laughing and he lurched from Éomer's side to pull his little sister into a bear hug that made her almost disappear into his arms. "Would another few hours have killed you?"

"The gods like me." Came her muffled voice from inside her brother's arms. "They say to me every morning, 'Off with you Ella. Off you go. Sleep no more, the world cannot manage much longer without your presence. I can't exactly deny the gods, can I? No. No I cannot. I am sacred, I am. Oof. You smell. Gerroff. Off, I said!" She started to giggle as her brother stumbled back and almost lost his balance. "I suppose you're to blame?"

Éomer found himself caught off guard as, for the first time in five days, the princess addressed him directly. Her tone was shy, and her eyes didn't wander any higher than his cheeks. Still, it wasn't the worst thing to come from a night of drinking. "I won't take the blame, but I'm not entirely sure my being there was a... barrier... of any sort."

"Yes... well... I have to get to the Houses of Healing."

Éomer felt himself start to sort of list to one side as Ella watched helplessly. "Then get yourself there, princess. We've a meeting to attend." More meetings. Éomer was getting damned sick of meetings.

"You certainly aren't. Amrothos, tell King Éomer that you are not going to any meetings in this state."

"I personally don't see what the issue is." Amrothos had found a nice rock to sit on and become very comfortable there, closing his eyes and tilting his face to the sun.

If she was being honest, Ella wouldn't usually have cared much either. From the meetings she was allowed to watch she know meetings were dull and one meeting tended to undo the decisions of the last, but this would be the last meeting before the March on Mordor which meant all the decisions would stand. This is where all the plans would be laid bare. "Back to the keep with you both. C'mon. Come on."

Her voice was shrill and bothersome and both men started moving to avoid it. Ella kept one arm around her brother's waist and once in a while would have to reach over to grab Éomer's sleeve to keep him from wandering too far from the path. Eventually Éomer got tired of her tugging and focused a bit more on where his feet were planting.

"When is this meeting, anyway?" They were only two levels away from the keep but that happy buzz from the ale was starting to morph into annoyance and thirst and a niggling headache.

"At the eighth hour."

Ella looked thoughtful for a moment. "You should be almost fine by then. You have two hours until the clock strikes... besides, I bet I can delay it."

Amrothos glanced over sharply at the girl, remembering how her last plan had gone, most likely. "We can't exactly tell the men who run our city that we were out drinking all night. I hope that wasn't your idea."

"No..." Ella glanced up at Éomer, meeting his eyes for the first time in what seemed like years. "I can ask father to delay it. Tell him I have some information that he needs to know. Or that I have information you need to know. And... that I am learning from my mistakes and would prefer to tell you both in confidence to do with the information as you will."

He had to admit, it was a good plan. It reminded the men that the princess had made a mistake and it would draw the attention to her and not to her brother and the King of Rohan. He wasn't sure why this meant so much to Ella but she seemed determined not to let them go to the meeting without some sort of interference. She must know. She must know this was the final meeting before the march.

"You're well informed, Princess."

"I pay good coin for it, King. Nothing is without it's price, and I care too much for my family to know only half the story for the sake of saving a bit of gold."

Gondor was so strange. In Rohan, a King and some of the higher lords might have a spy master of some sort, but it was not considered a position of high esteem. These men worked with whispers, not swords. In Gondor, the women commanded the whispers, and you could tell which family was most powerful by how much they knew. There was nothing that was not determined in the shadows before it was discussed in the light of day.. In Dol Amroth, she had not needed to be nearly as quick to gather the sources, but here, everyone knew that she knew all that they hoped she did not know. She kept her sources exceptionally well hidden, and because they knew they were safe, those same sources returned to her. What would a girl like Ella do in Rohan? He wasn't entirely sure why the thought came to him, but it was there in the back of his mind. He wasn't sure what would bring a girl like Ella to Rohan in the first place, but once there... how would she fare?

"You find it distasteful." She winced but her tone was even, "I can only imagine how you settle things in Rohan. Horse races, I imagine."

He glanced at her, only to see that she was joking. He grinned, a proper big grin that took over his face.

"First one to Fangorn Forest and back."

"I heard Fangorn was haunted." Now that she had gotten a drunken smile from him, Ella seemed to relax. Her gait got a bit more swing into it, and she turned to look at him more often. Did she really find him so intimidating?

"You do not enter the forest. No, then you are sure to lose."

"We can't have that!" That was Amrothos, who was invested in winning horse races because it was less boring than the other options.

"Certainly not!"

They had reached their quarters and Lothiriel sent Amrothos to his room, then appraised the King. "You'll have to sleep here for a few hours. I'll have food and water brought, and I'll come wake you when a new time is arranged. Follow me."

The princess set a brisk pace. Éomer had not seen much of the palace before, but she seemed to know every corner. He thought he recognized her room from the night before, and then found that they were ascending to a whole extra floor. Ella found the door she was looking for and opened it a crack. The room was decidedly plain and while the bed looked comfortable, it was not made. The jug beside the small bowl that served as a wash basin was empty. Ella looked embarrassed to put him in such a plain room. Éomer was about to reassure her when she interrupted him "I'll bring some sheets and water."

Before he had a chance to stop her, she bolted from the room. He sat on the bed and waited, and when she did not return promptly (the linens and kitchens were down several flights of stairs) he found himself falling asleep on the bed.

He was vaguely aware of cool hands putting a blanket on top of him and of the sound of clay on wood, but mostly he slept. Long nights turned into longer mornings the closer to marching the army became, and sometimes he went without any sleep in between. He had to admit that getting some time to rest was better than having gone to the meeting at the time it was scheduled. Sleeping was a release that he did not know he needed, he had not realized the drink had not done it's job.

The sun was descending when Ella nudged him awake. "King Éomer. King Éomer." She held a glass of water in one hand and pushed him with the other. "You've an hour before the meeting. You have to wake up."

"I only need a half hour to get ready." He groaned the whole way to sitting upright, reaching out for the glass that Ella offered, "It's late. Very late. How did you manage that?"

She grinned at him, obviously pleased with herself, "I gave Father an awful lot to think about."

Her dress was dirty enough that she must have spent some time in the Houses of Healing but her hands and face were clean and her hair pulled into a plait threaded through with flowers.

"You look nice." He wasn't sure why he said it, it didn't matter how the princess looked, what mattered was what she told her father. Her smile turned shy though and there was something awfully charming about that.

"I have to help plan the parade for tomorrow. For the troops. The last one was dreary and morbid. This one..." Her face fell, but she managed to gather herself and meet his eyes, "This one isn't to be a celebration but there must be hope in it. There must be. We cannot have another funeral march."

Now that they were friends again, Éomer was allowed to observe her closely, and he again found her odd and captivating all at once. Ella clearly did not want the troops to leave, but she also did not want to burden them with darkness so she pushed for hope, for life. There was a manic energy to her, like him, she was strung too tight. She simply could not let her city down.

"I spoke to Father." She didn't seem too bothered by the fact he was staring at her. Perhaps she was glad he had taken up the habit too, "Faramir is almost well. Certainly well enough to take over the Stewardship of Gondor. That frees up many of our Swan Knights to join in the fight in Mordor since his own men will hold the city far easier than our men could. They know it better. Furthermore, I have it on very, very good authority that Lord Destros had built a tunnel from his house through the mountain. That means we can free up even more men, and have our strong archers keeping watch. If- if the worst should come and we must leave the city, we will have a safe route. From there we will go to Rohan with your sister. If we are not safe, even there, then we will call upon the generosity of the Dwarves... I suppose. But!" She came to standing, offering him a hand to pull him off the bed. "What it all means, is a significant addition to the numbers of troops. Your men- our men- they won't be spread so thin."

Ella looked for a moment to be so full of light that Éomer could not bear to tell her how futile their mission really was. He didn't want to. He wanted her to hold on to that light, to always be looking at someone with that sense of... something. There was something there... a sense of contentment, maybe. Of hope. He remembered Amrothos' words yesterday, but he wasn't doing it to be friend to her brother. He was doing it because he wanted her to be happy.

"That's very good, Princess. Very well handled." He took the offered hand and came to his feet. He saw that someone had brought him a change of clothes and moved towards them.

He turned his back to Ella, but not quickly enough to miss her frowning. "You're lying to me. It's not well handled. Something is wrong."

He pulled his shirt off, shaking his head slightly. "T hat's not what a meant. I'm just-" but now the girl was frozen in one spot, her eyes lowered. Éomer couldn't quite gauge what might have prompted that reaction. She wasn't upset, exactly but she wasn't comfortable either. He looked around the room to try and find what had shifted her focus so completely only to realize that aside from her own brothers perhaps, it wasn't likely that Ella had ever been alone with a man who was in any state of undress, even one as basic as this. "Sorry, Princess-"

"I'll just wait outside." For the first time that Éomer had known her, Ella blushed fiercely and flew from the room.

He couldn't help it, he laughed as he finished changing, seeing again the wide eyes and deep red that had spread over the girl's cheeks. He looked around the room for the glass of water and the basin, all prepared with soap. He washed his face and hands, and then, just to get rid of the fog still wandering in his head, he dunked his whole head in the water. He didn't think any man had ever come to a council meeting with wet hair, but it was past the point where he actually cared about that part of it. He wrung out the extra water and dressed himself in borrowed clothes.

Ella was waiting outside the door, impatient and shifting from foot to foot. Once he emerged, she tossed an apple at him, looking wonderfully composed if you only bothered focusing on her from the shoulders up. "Eat this. We can grab some more food if you're hungry."

He was, but a whole meal would take more time than they had. "I could eat more than an apple."

Ella produced another apple and a bread roll that looked to be filled with something. "Lucky for you then."

She was being careful around him now, being just a bit too pert and keeping a perfect amount of space between them; like if she moved an inch too close the servants would know that things had been improper for a moment and call her forward to atone.

He couldn't decide if he minded. The truth is, whatever was happening in Lothiriel's mind, it was of no importance compared to what was to come. Indeed, he knew that he should not let himself be distracted, and if a little more space between them, and a lack of misunderstandings could keep him focused, then that was for the best. Princesses in Gondor seemed to live such sheltered lives, it was no wonder they grew restless and looked for any distraction at all. It was no wonder they because so defiant and so odd. How had Ella crafted herself into what she was, when she was surrounded by gossip, and pretty dresses and needlepoint?

"I don't see why pretty dresses and needlepoint make me less than any warrior. When you lot go to war, who do you think it is who keeps everything running as it should?" She snapped. He had spoken his questions out loud to her, and she forgot her discomfort to give him a dirty look. "Besides, I like weaving. Needlepoint is tiny and no one appreciates it despite the hours it takes and you all really should. Weaving is better. You make cloth. Like the shirt you're wearing, for example... You think, because I've drawn no blood, because I've fought no wars, and been treated kindly my whole life that I have not lived. That I'm a blank canvas."

"You've never left Gondor, my lady."

"And you had barely left Rohan, before we called for aid."

"You've known no different thoughts than those of your nobility-"

"And you? How have you been formed so different from me? We are both noble, are we not? You've drawn blood and defended your family. I've discredited those who would hurt mine, and though they did not bleed, they suffered nonetheless. Your sister is not stronger now that she has worn men's clothes, than she was when she wore a dress. She is strong regardless. I am not less myself because stone walls have kept me safe. I am not the bud of a flower. I am fully bloomed. You need not care for the scent."

Was she trying to pick a fight simply for the sake of it? Perhaps because he had seen her blush? He didn't have time to ask, she shoved a tunic at him, embroidered beautifully and nodded towards a set of doors. "Well... go on then, Your Majesty. You've the fate of Men to argue out. I hope for our sake you don't forget the ones who stay behind to wait."

"Ella..." She looked about to walk away but at her name, she crossed her arms and turned to him. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"I'm not offended." she shrugged, impatiently pushing her hair behind her ear. "I just thought... perhaps in a King who cares as much as you do- That is to say..." she tripped over her own words, her mind trying to order her thoughts without starting another fight. "That is to say, I had hoped you might have seen that those of us without swords are not without value. That, indeed, we might be as good a match as any for those who can shed blood at will. I had hoped to prove that to you."

He narrowed his eyes, torn between picking apart what Ella might actually mean, and drawn by the voices on the other side of the wall. "You're a Princess of Dol Amroth. One of the highest ranking ladies in all the land, should your father and brothers fall, command of that city will fall to you. You need prove yourself to no one."

She considered this information and seemed to really think about it for a moment, she grew completely still as if it took her whole body to process the idea. "Perhaps... If only that were enough." she nodded to him and turned to leave, her shoulders stiff and her hand tight against her sides.