Notes: New chapter! Hope you enjoy.

Éomer and Amrothos rode up to the gates of Dol Amroth's keep with six good men having left the rest of the party behind when their pace grew slower. Erchirion had protested that Ella would surely wait to see their safe arrival before riding but Amrothos had known better and Éomer had agreed. The two had ridden hard and fast to catch the Princess before she did something worth regretting.

Ella would ride simply to prove a point. She had stated her ultimatum and was not likely to back down, especially when she knew they were close and no real harm could come from riding ahead. Indeed they had scarce crossed the perimeter of the hold when Ella's groom ran to them, nervous and upset and almost collapsing.

"She rode before dawn. Our men tried to catch up when we discovered her missing, but there was no trace, it rained mid morning and covered her tracks."

Éomer felt a slow anger rising within him. How stupid could she be? She had not taken anyone with her, nor told them the road she would ride. If she was robbed or killed on the road, there would be no finding her. He felt his head start to ache with the tension of his jaw clamping tight. To his surprise, Amrothos was smiling. "She'll be taking the Steward's road. We'll change our mounts and follow."

"You can't be certain."

"I can. She's my sister."

Éomer wanted to argue but thought for a moment of Éowyn and how he had known when she was left behind that she would not brook it and how he had done nothing and she had almost died. He had known his sister's thoughts and worried for them and still let her face death alone. Amrothos was not going to make that mistake and so the king kept his mouth shut.

Ella had taken Lightning and a spare mount and she had left all her dresses, save one, but breeches of her size were missing from the laundry. Her bow and several quivers worth of arrows were gone and when Amrothos went to his room, he found his dagger missing along with two cloaks he had outgrown. In the kitchen, there were two loaves of bread, a wheel of cheese, and three pounds of apples missing from the stores. The servants were grey faced and worried but not angry. There was something odd about the way they tip-toed around their young prince and the king. "She's been quiet and grave for weeks, milord. We thought it would only be a matter of time."

A matter of time before what?

But their mouths grew quiet and there was no time to ask. With their own supplies on spare mounts, Amrothos and Éomer left the city as quickly as they had arrived and made for the Steward's road.

The King's road was the most travelled path to Minas Tirith and Ithilien. It was paved and wide and open with few places to hide or for mischief to be sprung. If Ella had gone along that path, it might have been possible to find her simply from riding, though even in the colder months,the road could get crowded and slow and with summer slowly approaching again it was even more likely to turn their desired pace into a crawl.

The Steward's road, in contrast, was well worn but not paved and surrounded on each side by forest. The road was monitored by soldiers which kept incidents to a smaller number, but it wasn't uncommon to find oneself robbed by highwaymen. It was the more dangerous route to take and the more covert. Unless they found themselves able to catch up to Ella, it would be hard to find her. At least that was Éomer's concern, but Amrothos did not share it. "She is my sister," he repeated, "I will find her." and after a while Éomer started to realize that Amrothos might not truly believe it, but that he had to say it because if they did not find her, on the road or in Ithilien, then she was lost and Amrothos too would be lost without her. His brothers had their wives and children and Amrothos had only Ella to worry for, and if he could not keep even her safe, then he had no right to call himself a man at all.

For his part, Éomer fiercely regretted every delay that had brought them home so late and though he felt in another life he might have been furious with Ella, he could not bring himself to summon his rage now. He thought of her letters. She had told him that she was not happy, she had been so desperate and he had bid her wait. Éomer had done his duty, he had done what he was told and even when his head grew hottest, he had not betrayed his family or his people. He found himself shocked that Ella had ridden. She was regent and she had gone and he knew he would not have done the same. He knew that in another life she would not have done it. Something in her was burning but it was not bright or lovely. It was turning her to ash.

The men did not speak much, it was four days ride to Ithilien and the weather stayed warm and good for travel for most of it. It was unspoken between them that if Ella was not at Ithilien when they arrived, if they did not find her on the road, that they might never find her. Éomer thought for a moment that might be okay. She might never know how they had failed her. He banished those thoughts without letting them form completely. It was not true and he did not mean it.

As if to punish him, it began to rain, and they managed to push on for another league or so but it soon became apparent they would have to stop. The unpaved road was turning to thick mud and mire and the horses would get injured if they continued on. They walked carefully for another while, then spotted a natural shelter of interlacing branches. 'Elf made." Amrothos said, for it seemed too perfect to come wholly from nature.

"We'll be sharing it with ten other families." Éomer replied, "I hope you're not too proud to share a blanket."

"My family knows nothing of pride." Amrothos retorted, and for the first time in days the two of them grinned.

The canopy was not so dry as it looked, and Amrothos despaired the 'elves' who had made their sanctuary. It was only something to talk about. Their campaign had been fought through the winter and this was irritating but not unendurable. Immediately Éomer's eyes were drawn to one of the trees and he pointed it out to Amrothos for carved into it was a white swan. He frowned. They were no longer in Balfalas lands so there was no reason to mark these woods. Ella had been here, and if she had not, then it did not really matter. They clung to the belief regardless, picturing the princess harbouring in the same woods and thinking of her brother following her. They imagined that the inept fire from the night before had been hers. They pictured her and her horses and imagined that she had stayed up too late and had carved deep into the tree so they might find her. It helped to picture her where they now were and only a few steps ahead.

Three days later, when they arrived at Ithilien and did not find Ella there, it became harder to put much faith in a tree carving. Faramir and a very pregnant Éowyn soon grew as worried as Éomer and Amrothos, there were no letters for Ella, nor signals or signs. There was nothing to ease their fears.

Éowyn was under strict instructions not to leave her bed but she stormed the castle instead, calling for riders and sentries and guards to begin a search for her errant friend. Faramir, wrote to local inns and called in favours, he poured over maps and looked for other paths his cousin might have ridden. He looked for places she might have been taken in if injury had come to her. His maps soon were filled with small x's and he prepared to ride the next morning. Éomer felt his anger start to rise again. Éowyn was likely to begin her labour now, and it was Ella who had wanted so badly to be here and who was not. You should have waited a few hours, Ella. That's all it would have taken. What's a few hours? I've never known you to shirk your duties.

His sister was distressed and she should not be, and they all were on edge. So much so that when Amrothos and Éomer rode to check every inn along the Steward's road and the King's Road, the two decided to part ways for the search under the mutual understanding that they would come to blows if they did not. No one could say just what it was that fanned their frustrations, certainly no one was being unkind or unreasonable but after weeks of searching it was becoming clear that one of their own was gone, that Ella might be assumed dead and that it had not been a war, or battle, or illness, that there was no good reason for her simply not to be here with them. It seemed utterly incomprehensible.

The worst was that they could not blame Ella, as she was the one missing, but everyone knew that it had been her fault for riding alone when a few hours would have changed the course. It was Ella's fault entirely that they all were growing grey with worry. Amrothos poured over the servant's words like a madman, "It was only a matter of time" and he re-read his sister's letters until the paper grew soft and the ink ran, his smile was gone and he looked for some sign that might explain her flight. He thought of his sister who smiled even when he knew she was not in a smiling mood. Even when she was desperately lonely. He pictured his sister who did everything she could to make her family proud, and he pictured the weight of them on her narrow back. It made him angry because it hurt much more to be sad and so he rode like a foul wind was at his back. Éomer hid his own letters from Amrothos for he did not think it would settle his friend's mind. 'I am sick of not being happy.'. Both men obsessed over what they should have done instead for it was becoming clear than Ella did not wish to be found, if she still lived, though Éowyn called them fools for thinking that Ella had simply run away.

Amrothos went along the King's road, in case they had been wrong and she had aimed to take a better, if slower route. Éomer retraced their steps along the Steward's road. We are not all happy all the time, Ella. Those were the words he should have written back to her, I am not happy all the time. I am rarely truly happy, and I am telling you only so you will understand. There is strength in standing strong. There is strength and hope in enduring. You are not allowed to leave your post because you had a moment of sadness.

He pictured her then, her hands on her hips and her gaze challenging. She would tilt her head like a little bird. He pictured her as she had been on the battle field but clean and without tears. Simply dressed, she stood, with her hair just barely bound and her shoulders strong and proud.

I am not a soldier, Éomer, King of the Riddermark. I stayed my post. I ruled as I was told to. I carried my family's name with pride and wore it like a shield. I held Dol Amrothos, I held Minas Tirith. I watched from the walls for days upon days, for battle after battle. I carried hope within me like a flame and gave it to all I met when their own spark burned low. Have I not done my duty? I waited as I was told to. I am not a soldier. I am tired and I am tired of holding a weight this heavy. I want to be happy, and you should want to be happy too. Why are we fighting? Why have we lost so much, if not for the hope of happiness?

Éomer shook his head and cleared his vision of Ella, for she was turning too real and he thought for a moment that she would turn to flesh and blood in front of him if only he willed it fiercely enough. He closed his eyes and tried to blink her away but he could see her so clearly. She had turned her back on him and was walking away, her hair turned messy and her cloak dragging in the mud. She led a horse who was limping and he thought that he would know her anywhere but he did not know how his vision had turned to reality. She kept walking and he could not bear to see her go. "Ella!" he called after her and she turned briefly, as if she could hear something familiar in the wind but could not clock it's meaning. The crowd of people around her swelled and hid her from view and his breath choked him. If it was her, he could not let her disappear again. He pushed forward towards her and the crowd grumbled as they were forced to divert their paths. He caught sight of her horse, but it was not Lightening and so he doubted himself. He slowed... Ella would not leave her beloved horse behind, where was her mare? Then he saw the dirty curve of her cheek and surged forward, certain of himself again.

The sun was going down, and the Steward's road grew more crowded as families tried to return home before dark but it was the narrow path and there was forest on each side that obstructed his view. There was no mark on her cloak to differentiate it from any other cloak. There were no flowers or ribbons in her hair to draw his eyes, if this woman was Ella then he would have to take great care not to lose her. It was not easy. When he could not see her, his breath was caught in his lungs, and he felt each time that he had lost his chance. Each time he drew breath back into his body.

Eventually he thought he saw her slip into the forest, and after a quick scan to see if he could see her elsewhere, he followed. After all, the only way a chase ended was with capture or evasion and he could not allow the latter. He came off Firefoot and found the same corps of trees that enveloped her.

He felt the sharp edge of a knife at his throat and heard a woman's voice command him to 'Stop' and without thinking he threw the person to the ground. Ella blinked up at him, disgruntled.

"Are you stupid, Ella? You've no more weight to you than a blanket soaking wet. Where are your arrows? I could have hurt you!"

"I didn't realize it was you that was following me, or I probably wouldn't have tried to get a knife to your throat. What are you doing?"

"Trying to find you!"

Her expression broke and changed and broke again. For all the world she looked like a storm about to begin on the horizon. Slowly, she shook her head. "I didn't think anyone would."

"You didn't think anyone would...?"

"Try to find me." Her own confusion stopped his ire, and he offered her his hand to stand. She looked a mess, thinner than he remembered and made of hard edges. Under his fingers he could feel no softness. Her eyes were dark and darkly circled. Behind her stood her spare mount, and on his back was a bag of oats and a small sack. Ella had not planned well for a journey of four days, and evidently had not expected it to extend to the eight or nine days it had become. It turned him gentle to see her. Not just in this state but her, just her.

"We would scour the earth for you."

She shook her head but it took her a moment to respond, "I mean... I suppose I knew you would search for me... Well, not you particularly but my family. I just didn't think the search would continue much longer once I did not make it to Ithilien... once another week passed."

"Were you trying to run away?"

"No!" But she turned from him and went to feed her horse, offering the creature a handful of oats. "I suppose once I was out of the castle- I've not left the castle for months, you know- once I was out, I figured I'd be in Ithilien before the week was out. I suppose I imagined you would all catch up to me within hours... But you didn't. And then days passed and I left markings on trees for you. And then... I figured no one was coming, and perhaps I was free-"

"Free?"

"I was headed for Ithilien, I still am but Granger hurt himself. Got a bit wild in the mud and his leg isn't right."

"Free, Ella?"

"I've never been alone without being surrounded by people. I've never been alone without being lonely. I've never been alone because I chose to be. It was nice, you know... It was nice to make a choice for myself. A proper one. It felt good"

"We were sick for worry, El."

"Good." She snapped to look at him and let the grains fall from her hand and to the ground. She looked hard and tired, "Now you know what it feels like." She wiped her hands on her breeches and knelt in the mud, examining a wrap on Granger's leg and removing it, she pulled a flask from her hip and took a gulp before using the remaining water to clean the leg. Her tone was biting "Being helpless isn't as noble as you thought it was, is it?"

Éomer felt himself grow cold, he tried to reply but could only find her name quiet on his tongue, "Ella..."

She took a deep breath and let it wipe the bitterness from her tongue. With the back of her hand, she tried to push the hair from her eyes. "I don't mean that. I'm sorry, I'm tired."

"You do mean it."

"I shouldn't." She stayed far from him for a bit longer and he took the time to find some food. She looked like she sorely needed it. He found some rolls and dried berries. Nothing to upset her stomach if she had gone long enough without. She looked to her dirty hands when he tried to hand the food to her, and he saw a sort of hopelessness cross her face. She froze. Slowly he put the food down and opened his own flask to poured water on her hands, then he used his shirt to wipe them clean. He could feel her eyes on him as he did it. They were both silent, hand in hand. She was a mess. He bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, then her forehead.

"Do not run anymore."

They did not move. Her eyes were closed and her expression soft and lost and content all at once. Slowly, she squeezed her eyes shut tighter and wrinkled her nose with it too. She shook him off her like a spell. "We should make a fire." As she turned from him, he saw her hands go to her lips for a moment and she looked happy, simply happy.

"You might have ridden Lightning to Ithilien and left Granger at an inn. You'd've saved yourself a great deal of suffering you know."

"I was going to leave Granger, but the innkeep said I should slaughter the poor beast, injured as he was. I didn't trust him to let Granger heal, and I couldn't feed both horses for the time it would take to walk, I had only coin for the keep of one of them, and Granger could not have managed Lightning's pace. It broke my heart to leave her behind." Ella stopped and let the weight of her journey settle on her. "It was always my intention to get to Ithilien. I swear it." She saw that Éomer was managing the fire and she sat out of his way, gathering the food he had left and slowly nibbling on the corner of a sweet roll. "I must be close now."

"You are. Half a day's hard ride. Perhaps a day or two left of walking."

"When we reach Ithilien, do you think we might send for Lighting?"

"Of course." He came to sit by her and took her hand but otherwise they did not touch. They stared at the fire he had made and he allowed, only to himself that this was not so bad. They were choosing not to ride for the night. They were choosing to be alone for just a few hours longer.

"Éomer..." Slowly, like honey sliding down a honeycomb and down one's arm, Ella let her head sink to Éomer's shoulder. She sounded half asleep already.

"Yes?"

"I'm betrothed, you know, you should not kiss me. Even in the woods."

"Ella..."

He felt that same guilt rise up from the bottom of his stomach and coil around his throat, tightening and tightening until he thought he might choke.

"Prince-Prince Darian... he's dead. He did not make it- he was very brave."

But he looked at her face and knew she could not care less about the bravery of a dead man.