Two days later, I walked into my office only to have Saegyth grab my arm and steer me right back out. "Um... You know manhandling the Queen is technically a crime," I pointed out as she dragged me down the hall. I looked over my shoulder. "Thorgil, I feel like you should be more alarmed by this."

"Even I will not fight your Chief of Staff, my lady," he snorted as he followed us. "You're on your own."

I looked down at Saegyth. "Even my heavily armed, highly trained guards are scared of you now? Is there something I don't know? Do you walk around with an axe tucked under your skirts or something?"

"I find poison infinitely more useful," she said distractedly, towing me back to the East wing.

I raised my eyebrows, then squinted at her. "See, I'm almost positive you're joking, but there's just enough doubt that I'm not sure."

"And there you have the source of my power, my lady." She pushed me into my bedroom, then released me in favor of scouring through my wardrobe. "There was an unexpected change for your schedule. You have to look Queenly."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I asked indignantly.

She poked her head out of my dressing room. "Do you really want to pull at that thread, my lady?"

"You're not so great for my ego, you know that?"

The door opened and Eomer strode in, looking just as flummoxed as I. "Eothain just sent me to my room. I didn't know he could do that."

"Welcome to the club," I said dryly. "Saegyth just did the same to me. Aren't we supposed to be monarchs or something?"

"Evidently not of Meduseld."

"Eothain sent you here at my request," Saegyth informed us brusquely, shoving a dress into my hands. "The leaders of the Wold and Eastemnet have arrived a day early, and you have to greet them, which means both of you must look like powerful monarchs that they will gladly follow."

Eomer looked at me. "I believe she just implied that we don't look so right now."

"Both of us are being held captive in our bedroom by a tiny, unarmed woman," I pointed out. "The argument can be made."

Eomer began unlacing the back of my gown as Saegyth disappeared into his dressing room. "I must greet them and welcome them to Meduseld, but otherwise, are they not Leigh's responsibility as the Lady of the Hall?" I squawked and twisted to smack his arm. He shrugged.

"Yes and no," Saegyth said, returning with a different tunic for Eomer and shoving him into his dressing room. He made a face over her shoulder as he went. I had to stifle a grin, but Saegyth was already yanking the dress over my head. "She will be in charge of entertaining them, but both of you will need to hold an audience with them and hear what they have to say. They come as representatives of your kingdom, not just your guests, and you are their sovereigns."

"Ha! Stick that in your pipe and suck it, Romeo!" The effect was somewhat ruined by Saegyth shoving the gown in my hands. I sighed and tugged it over my head, the heavy velvet layers brushing the floor.

"Isn't that the reason they are coming on the Tour?" he asked, stepping out of the dressing room as he strapped his belt around his waist.

"Are you referring to the times when we are traveling on horseback in a long parade, or to the times when the lords of Rohan will demand your attention, or perhaps to the times when you are occupied by the ceremonies and banquets?" she asked innocently. Her point made, she gave us both a knowing look. "This is the only time on the tour when they will have your undivided attention, and each of them will likely ride with you separately during the journey."

Eomer and I exchanged a glance. "Hey, don't look at me. I make it a point not to argue with her when she's right," I said, holding my hands up defensively.

"You, lady, are worth your weight in gold," Eomer told her, making his way to the door.

"Crown, my liege," she said absentmindedly, not even looking at him. He raised an eyebrow at me as he plucked his crown from the stand. She had sat me down on the bed and was twisting my hair around my own circlet.

"You're also a little bossy," he added.

"Yes, Your Majesty." There was just a hint of sarcasm in her voice, and I smiled at Eomer in amusement from under my eyelashes.

0o0o0o0o0

It was almost midnight when I finally finished settling the last dignitary's wife into her guest room in the East Wing. I was about to seek my own bed when I heard raised voices, and I followed the sound to the Great Hall, where a group of men – dignitaries all – were yelling and snarling at each other. They spoke in Rohirric, so I had no idea what they were saying, but whatever it was, Eomer wasn't happy about it. He sat on his throne, listening with a frown, and his eyes were narrowed. Two of the lords were arguing loudly, and Eomer's gaze flickered between the two.

Curious, I leaned against a pillar and watched with my arms crossed.

Since I couldn't understand them, it made their body language and tone all the more interesting. Eomer was the only one sitting, and the only one that seemed to be calm. Everyone else were yelling and snarling, gesticulating wildly, and Eomer simply took it in, watching carefully.

Finally, Eomer said one word, firm, but without raising his voice, and the lords instantly fell quiet and turned to him: a room of powerful men silenced by one word from Eomer. He started speaking, and his tone held the surety of unquestioned authority. One of the lords seemed to protest, but Eomer simply stared him down, cutting him off with what was clearly a reprimand, and then a dismissal. The lords all bowed low to him respectfully before leaving.

When the Hall was empty except for one or two maids putting out the torches, Eomer muttered to himself in Rohirric and rubbed his forehead tiredly, bringing to mind an old quote from Shakespeare: "Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown." Eomer looked tense and burdened. He was the most powerful man in Rohan, and in that moment, he looked like he would gladly have handed the crown over to anyone else if given half the chance.

I pulled myself from the pillar and walked over. He started in surprise when he caught sight of me, but looked too stressed to even muster a smile. He simply watched as I lifted my skirts and mounted the steps of the dais. I wrapped my arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss to his temple as he put his hand over mine on his shoulder. "Who would ever want to be King?"

"A good question," he sighed. "I often wish the crown had never come to me."

"What was the fight about?" I asked, crouching at his side. "It sounded heated."

"Nothing I would burden you with." He caught my chin and brought my face to his, kissing me gently. "I do not suppose you have a machine that would make my lords behave like they understand their duty to their people?"

I smiled sympathetically as I knelt beside him. "No, I have an Eomer for that," I said gently, "and so far, he seems to be doing the job just fine."

He looked as exhausted as I felt: though we hadn't seen each other since we'd welcomed our guests that morning, I knew he'd been as busy with settling arguments and diplomatic handholding as I had. It seemed Saegyth had been right when she'd pointed out that this was the only time we'd be able to speak with these delegates, and they'd used the time well. Both of us had been in one meeting or other all day, with pages running back and forth between us to make sure neither of us promised anything to the delegates that the other wasn't willing to honor.

It had been grueling, and between the two of us, I now had a list of devices I would somehow need to find time to design. In addition, we'd still had the usual duties of running a country to attend to, and between that and the meetings, I, at least, hadn't had a break all day. It looked like Eomer hadn't, either.

"How did your meetings go?" he asked.

I made a face. "They were fine until I met with Jorund. That man is a piece of work."

Eomer smiled, his eyes understanding. "He's not so terrible when you get to know him."

"So, he's an asshole, but you get used to it."

Some of the tension seemed to leave his shoulders when he laughed. "Aye. He wasn't trained in diplomacy, but he is an honorable man who does what he thinks is best for the people under his care. What did he want?"

"You know I've been working on water systems for Edoras to augment the sewer systems I sent you before I ever came to Rohan?" Eomer nodded: back in Dol Amroth, I'd suggested the creation of a sewer system as part of a plan to aid Rohan's recovery after the war. The system had been finished not long after I'd arrived, and integrating water supplies was something I'd been working on since October, both to help quell the spread of disease and introduce basic indoor plumbing. We'd had several talks about it as I picked his brain about the logistics of building it. "Word of it reached Jorund, and he wants his men to be hired for the work."

"And in exchange?" he asked warily.

I shook my head and stood so that I could sit on his lap. His arms moved around me instantly. "I told him that I would talk to you about it. A few of the other delegates told me that his men had been part of the raids on their own villages, and that he'd brushed them off when they'd reported it to him."

"I've heard this, as well," he sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. I ran my fingers through his hair. "On the one hand, I do not want to reward him after he's turned a blind eye to his people's crimes. On the other -"

"If we gave them the work, his people might not need to continue raiding," I finished. "That was what went through my head, too."

"We could simply tell him to take a firmer hand with them," he pointed out. "That if the raiding doesn't stop, we pull his contract."

I made a face. "I don't like it, Eomer. He's been letting his men run wild with impunity. He doesn't get milk and cookies."

Eomer frowned. "What?"

I realized I'd slipped into another American idiom and gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I meant that he doesn't get a treat after misbehaving."

"I agree, but it's wiser to solve the problem than punish the consequences," he told me. "If his people are desperate enough to raid, they may stop if we help them feed their families."

I eyed him, then relented with a sigh. "I hate it when you're right. It's annoying."

He took my hand and kissed it, grinning widely. "Your life must be forever unbearable, then." I laughed and swatted at him, but he merely snorted. "Now, let us to bed, lady wife. I, at least, have had several victories this day, and would like to celebrate them." He swatted my behind playfully as we started towards the East Wing.

I laughed. "What victories?"

"Your Lord King has settled a long-standing feud between two towns, arranged for the building of a road between the Wold and the Westemnet for easier trade, and promoted the general welfare for all of my kingdom," he said cockily, walking backwards to face me as we moved to our bedroom.

Amused, I grinned at him. "Is this some sort of feudal hot talk?"

His grin widened. "Who's your King?"

I rolled my eyes with a smile and swatted at him again, but then squeaked when he abruptly dipped and threw me across his shoulder. I laughed helplessly as he marched through the East Wing with his prize. "Eomer!"

He swatted my behind again, and shrugged beneath me. There was laughter in his voice. "King."

0o0o0o0o0

We set out from Meduseld the next morning.

I rode beside Eomer on Galileo towards the front of the procession. 120 of the finest horsemen in Rohan, all King's Riders, surrounded the 20 leaders of the Rohirric provinces that had come to see us, 60 staff, 20 pages, 16 wagons, 3 Royal Advisors – Byrnhorn, Fordwyn, and Master Hrothgar – 2 monarchs, and 1 very harried Chief of Staff.

"You're Rohirric," I pointed out to her in amusement. "Aren't you supposed to be a natural horsewoman?"

Saegyth shot me a disgruntled look. "I'm scared of heights. It's why the Gods made me small. And it's difficult to read on horseback."

"Would you like me to do it for you?" Haleth offered, holding out his hand for her ledger.

"I said it's difficult, not that I couldn't do it," she practically snarled, holding the ledger defensively out of his reach. Eomer and I exchanged a glance, and he faked a coughing fit.

"What's first on the agenda?" I asked, trying very hard not to smile.

"Byrnhorn and Fordwyn have requested an audience," she read from the ledger.

Eomer and I exchanged a look. Neither one of us was in the mood to deal with the men today. "Did he say it was urgent?" Eomer asked.

"No, my Lord," she answered. "Only that they would prefer to see you before we reach Snowbourne."

Eomer caught my eye and grinned. "In that case… EOTHAIN!"

Saegyth startled violently that she almost dropped the ledger. She shot the King a disgruntled look as she straightened it, but I noticed her straightening her skirts when she saw the Captain of the King's Riders cantering towards us. I leaned over to her. "Quick check." With the instant understanding between all female friends when a handsome man approached, she turned to me so that I could check her over with a critical eye. "Beautiful." She shot me a grateful smile.

Eothain, in full armor, reined in his horse beside Saegyth. He pulled off his helmet and smiled at her – she blushed instantly – but then looked at Eomer. "You called, my Lord?"

"I need you to appear to be deep in conversation with us about important matters," Eomer told him. "Otherwise, we don't have an excuse to avoid Byrnhorn and Fordwyn."

I looked at Eomer, torn between amusement and disapproval. "You're using your armies to hide from your advisors?"

"Do you want to meet with them?" Eomer asked.

I turned to Eothain. "Scowl and look like we're deep in conversation." Eomer snorted.

Eothain just glanced back and forth between us with in amusement, then looked at Saegyth. "These are the people who run our country... and we're still alive?"

"I try not to think about it," she shrugged. She smiled at him. "When will we arrive at Snowbourne?"

"If we keep at this pace, we should arrive before nightfall."

"Good place as any to dump your body," Eomer muttered. We looked at him and he blinked. "Did I say that out loud?"

Eothain rolled his eyes, but looked at Saegyth. "As it seems we are not needed by our king and queen, would you like to ride at whiles with me, Lady? I would have your thoughts on.. eh..." He glanced at me.

"The proper housing arrangements for the eored at Snowbourne," I supplied.

Saegyth nodded eagerly, then cleared her throat, blushed, and in a much more blasé manner, agreed, "Of course. It can be very difficult to house so many soldiers without giving offense to our host. I'm at your disposal, Captain."

Eothain grinned, shot me a grateful look, and pulled his horse away from the party. Saegyth followed, giving me a little smile.

Eomer frowned in confusion as they left. "Eothain knows well how to house soldiers, and the arrangements have been in place for weeks."

I rolled my eyes affectionately and reached over to pat his arm. Haleth looked at him in confusion. "Respectfully, my Lord, how did you ever get married?"

"The old-fashioned way," Eomer said with a shrug. "I tricked her."

0o0o0o0o0

It didn't take long to see that Eomer had been right when he'd discussed Lord Rumolf's lie about Helm's Deep: there were absolutely no signs that the caste had ever been under siege. More, it was hard not to notice the conspicuous surplus of soldiers under Rumolf's control. I wondered if it had been a calculated move on the Lord's part, to have his army so obviously on display for us to see as we had progressed through his land.

Still, he and his wife were gracious hosts, and though I studied them both carefully as they'd greeted us, it was hard to imagine the kindly old man as trying to usurp Eomer's throne. Still more difficult, I couldn't imagine him ever ruling Rohan, even as regent. He was unquestionably intelligent, but he lacked something that Eomer had.

Gravitas, I decided after a while. Rumolf lacked the gravitas necessary to rule.

Even if this man did succeed in taking the throne – something I'd be dead before I allowed to happen – his reign would be hostile and short: he simply didn't project the authority needed to make the lords of Rohan fall in line.

Saegyth and I were discussing the seating arrangements for the formal banquet that night – the thought of greasy venison made me queasy, but then, travel had never sat well with my stomach – when I looked up suddenly. Saegyth frowned. "My lady?"

"There's a disturbance in the Force," I muttered, looking around. She arched an eyebrow in confusion and I elaborated. "Did you just feel a blast of cold wind, or was it just me?"

"It's winter and the door is opened every few seconds," she countered dryly. "I'd be more worried if I didn't feel a cold wind."

I almost sighed when I saw Byrnhorn making a beeline for us. "I knew my spider senses were tingling."

"Your Majesty." Byrnhorn bowed low. "May I have a word?"

"Of course, my lord." I glanced around, then gestures to a room off to the side. It was empty for the moment.

"In private," he added when my three guards attempted to follow. Thorgil, in charge of my protection, looked at me and I nodded. He shut the door behind him when he stepped out.

When we were alone, I looked at Byrnhorn. "How can I help you, my lord?"

"We have a situation, Your Majesty." Byrnhorn's voice was low; whatever it was he was about to tell me, he was worried someone would overhear. I frowned. "I have reason to believe that the Lord of Snowbourn has possession of the weapon stolen from Meduseld."

I stared at him. "Treason is a serious accusation."

"And not one I make lightly."

I eyed him warily. Byrnhorn was an unpleasant fellow, but he was unquestionably loyal to Eomer, and I doubted he would bring this to my attention unless he was sure. "What drew you to it?"

"My sources have informed me that Rumolf has begun amassing archers and training in earnest with a new weapon."

"Your sources..." My mind kicked into gear. "You have spies," I realized.

He met my gaze levelly. "The safety of Rohan has always been my first priority, and I will do what other men are unwilling in order to secure it, Your Majesty."

"Does Eomer know?" I asked curiously.

He nodded. "I revealed myself as Theoden's spymaster when he first returned to Edoras."

I rubbed my lips. It seemed like the kind of thing Eomer would have told me, but I knew there were things he couldn't tell even his wife. "Have you told him about the bows?"

"I have, yet there our problem lies," he told me. "Rumolf has had time to recreate these weapons and arm his soldiers. Taking them now would serve little purpose."

"Because he would just create more now that he knows how to make them," I surmised grimly. A thought occurred to me and I looked at him, studying the old man. "The Queen isn't normally involved in the defense of Rohan. That responsibility lies solely with the King. You want me to do something."

It wasn't a question, but he nodded. "It is possible that you may make a weapon more powerful than the one Rumolf now bears, yet I am reluctant to risk open war with a noble house. A deterrent, I think, would better serve Rohan."

Because Mutually Assured Destruction always calmed things right down, I thought sarcastically. "What did you have in mind?"

"Rumolf's heir, Rumond," he said. Instantly, I crossed my arms. Rumond was all of sixteen at most. "Take him as an apprentice. It would appear as though you are honoring him, and it would allow us to keep him in Meduseld. Rumolf loves his sons greatly, and would not risk attacking Edoras while his son lies in the crossfire. Rumond, too, may unwittingly provide information about his father's goings on to his Mistress."

"No."

"Your Majesty—"

"I said no," I snapped. "There is very little I'm not willing to do to protect Rohan, but this is one of them, and I know you haven't suggested this to Eomer, because he would have thrown you out of Snowbourn. Let the lords play the game of thrones to their hearts content, but I'll be damned if I let children be put in play on my watch. Figure out something else." I didn't give him time to respond before I swept out of the room, slamming the door behind me.

0o0o0o0o0

I leaned against the wooden railing and looked out across the field as a group of boys played war, attacking each other with wooden swords and shields and chasing each other. They were just doing what boys do. They were sixteen at the oldest; soon they would begin training for real combat, if they hadn't already.

Off to the side, I saw a boy perched on the low wall of the fountain. He looked only about fourteen, but was like a baby giraffe, all arms and legs and elbows, and covered in acne. He sat alone, building a little catapult out of sticks and string. I had to admit that, even from a distance, he seemed to be doing a pretty good job of it. Every now and then, he'd look up, watching the other boys laughing.

I studied him closer, though. White blond hair, wide brown eyes, and a nose that he may or may not grow into... That was Pierce, Lord Rumolf's second son. I'd met Rumond and Pierce when the Royal Party had been welcomed into Snowbourne. His older brother was the one Byrnhorn wanted me to take as an apprentice.

I was too busy to teach someone, let alone do it simply to pump the poor kid for information about his father.

Still, I couldn't take my eyes off Pierce: I remembered exactly how it felt to be on the outside, perfectly happy playing alone with my physics set, but unable to squelch that little seed of envy, that desire to be like the other kids. I'd at least had my parents and their friends, scientists to a man, who understood exactly how I felt, and assured me that it would get better.

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. If I took this kid as an apprentice, I would be obligated to pump him for information, and I wouldn't do that to him.

As I watched, the tutor called an end to their break, and the boys quickly scrambled back to their little seats in front of the chalkboard; I smiled when I noticed Pierce was the first back at his seat. The wind was coming at me, and I could just make out what the instructor was saying. "Now, if I drop this ball and this feather, what shall happen?" he asked, holding up the objects of his demonstration.

"The ball hits the ground first," answered one of the older boys. Rumond, I thought. Thrand's eldest. The one Byrnhorn wanted me to take under my wing.

"Good. Why?"

"The feather contains more of the Air element, and therefore seeks to remain floating." I almost rolled my eyes, but then, the scientific method hadn't been discovered yet.

"Yes." The teacher arched an eyebrow in challenge. "And what of the ball? If I roll it along the ground, what will become of it?"

"It will come to a stop closest to its natural place," Rumond answered confidently.

Pierce raised his hand timidly as the tutor smiled at his brother. The man almost sighed when he noticed the hand. "What take you issue with now, Pierce?" My eyes narrowed. I'd had several teachers who'd spoken to me like that.

"Forgive me, Sir, but the feather," Pierce said with the hesitance of someone who knew he was about to be kicked, but wanted to know anyway. "If I had a bundle of feathers tied together, would they not fall as quickly as the ball?"

I watched the tutor curiously, wondering how he would answer.

"We have too much to discuss without your incessant questions, Pierce," the tutor snapped. "Silence, lest I send you away yet again."

As I watched Pierce shrink into his seat like a kicked puppy, I was twelve again, and my science teacher was giving me detention for interrupting class.

I was down the stairs and crossing the courtyard before I realized I'd made the decision, Thorgil and the two other guards following. "Excuse me!"

They all turned as I approached, flanked by my guards, and the tutor hastily gestured for them to get to their feet. Respectfully, they all bowed low. "To what do we owe the honor, Your Majesty?" the tutor asked.

"I believe your student asked a valid question, and I am curious as to your answer," I said mildly. "Would you mind enlightening me?"

The man blinked. "Uh... The tie would drag them down." He looked a little flustered. "Master Pierce has an inquisitive mind, but chooses to use it to disrupt class."

"A student should always feel free to question his teacher without being reprimanded," I said calmly, but there was a hint of steel in my voice. I looked at Pierce. He looked like he wanted to melt into the earth. "Pierce, you have a problem with his explanation, don't you?" I guessed.

The boy hesitated, looked at his teacher, started to shrink and shake his head, and then paused, curiosity getting the better of him. "Well, suppose I dropped a sack of balls and a sack of feathers. They would hit the ground at the same time, wouldn't they, Your Majesty?"

I smiled, but the tutor scoffed behind me. "Because the bag is made of earth!" I turned and stared calmly at the man. He instantly fell silent.

I looked back at Pierce. "That's a good question, and you're right, but not for the reason your instructor would have you think," I said, shooting a quelling look at the man. "Let's find out. Bring your slate."

Pierce hesitantly came to me, and I was surprised that he at fourteen, he was already taller than me, easily 6'1. A baby giraffe indeed. He kept shooting wary looks at his teacher, waiting to be reprimanded. I took the slate and the ball and held them level. "Put the feather on the slate," I told him. He was getting a little more confident now, or maybe he was just enjoying having his curiosity satisfied. Lord knew, I knew the feeling. "What do you think is going to happen?"

"Lady?" he asked uncertainly.

"Go on. Take a guess."

"I believe the feather will fall at the same speed," he said tentatively. There was a scoff from his brother, and Pierce shrank slightly.

I dropped the ball and slate. They both hit the ground at the same moment. Pierce's eyes were lit with curiosity. "Ask your question," I said with a knowing smile.

"If the feather does not stay afloat from its attraction to the Air element, then why does it float when it is not protected by the slate?"

"The reason feathers float is the same reason it's harder to walk in heavy wind. It's called air resistance. Hold out your hand. Good, now blow against it. You feel that pressure, the way it takes just a little more effort to keep your hand in place? That's what happens to the feather in the air. The slate negates that."

He looked like he wanted to ask another question, but his brother stood. "Pierce, you've taken up enough of the Queen's generosity."

I stared at Rumond as Pierce quietly thanked me, bowed, and made his way back to his seat. Rumond looked uncomfortable under my scrutiny, but though he didn't realize it, he was suddenly representing every bully that had ever laughed at me in class or groaned for asking more than what was required on the test. "Pierce, wait." The boy hesitated, and I tore my gaze from his brother. "I've heard you have a passion for the sciences."

"Yes, ma'am." His gaze was shifting between me, his teacher, and his brother.

"He spends more time with his insipid experiments than on learning to hold a sword," Rumond said dismissively. "Pay him no mind, my lady."

"I'll pay mind to whomever I deem fit," I reprimanded quietly, not taking my eyes off of Pierce. "I've been asked to take an apprentice."

"He is insubordinate, my lady," the tutor protested. "He will drive you mad with questions, and is known for challenging accepted ideas."

I raised an eyebrow at Pierce. There was a glint of fire in his eye, indignation at what they were saying about him, but he kept his head bowed. "Are you going to challenge and question me?"

He hesitated. "N..." He caught himself, then raised his chin, meeting my eye squarely. "Yes, ma'am." There were horrified gasps. In my peripheral, I saw Thorgil dip his head to hide a smile; he knew me well enough to know what my response would be.

"He means no offense, Your Majesty," Rumond started, but stopped when I held up my hand. He looked nervously between me and Pierce.

I still hadn't broken eye contact, but now I smiled approvingly. "Good. Great minds never simply accept what they're told." I tossed the slate on his desk. "I can teach you more in a day than you'd learn in a lifetime here, and I will never reprimand you for asking questions. But it's going to be difficult. You'll have to come live in Meduseld, and you'll be required to learn combat and still keep up with the workload I give you," I warned. I paused, then looked him dead in the eye. "I expect your answer by the time we leave in three days."

I nodded to Rumond, gave a more sarcastic nod to the tutor, and started back across the field. Pierce's voice stopped me. "Your Majesty?" I turned. "I don't need three days, my lady."

I grinned at him, but my eyes hardened when I shifted my gaze to his tutor. "You are relieved of your student, Sir. Permanently. And for the record, I asked my teachers too many questions, too. Pierce, grab your slate. We're starting right now."

Grinning ear to ear, Pierce caught up with me in a few lanky steps. "This is really happening?"

"Unless your parents object," I told him. "But Meduseld isn't so far that you can't visit, and you'll be safer in the King's house than anywhere else. Plus, your education will be inconceivably better," I added dryly. I shot the tutor another grimace over my shoulder.

"If I may, Your Majesty... why me?"

"Because you have the makings of greatness in you," I told him. "I know you've felt like an outcast all your life, like no one really understands you. And they don't. They never really will." I lifted my skirts as we mounted the stairs. "The greatest minds in history have always been misunderstood because they think differently and question everything. But it's that very thing that invariably makes them great. You have to be different to be exceptional."

"You truly think I have what it takes?"

The question had been asked so timidly that I stopped and finally looked up at him. "I see in you the same burning need to learn that I share. Pierce, this gift, this need to know…it's not something that can be taught. It's something you either have or you don't, and you've got it."

He straightened, looking a little more confident as he held himself taller.

I smiled, then sighed and continued on my way. "Now, let's see if I can explain to my husband why I adopted a stray teenaged boy." Behind us, Thorgil snickered quietly.

0o0o0o0o0

Eomer was wrapping up a meeting when I stepped into the Great Hall with Pierce. My husband took one look at my guilty face, and I swear, with just an imperceptible tilt of his head, he managed to convey a beleaguered 'what did you do now?' I offered him a sheepish smile in return. His eyes flickered slightly, and I got the definite impression he was rolling his eyes at me. He refocused his attention on the lords. "You have my answer. Dismissed."

The lords bowed low, and Pierce shifted uncomfortably beside me as Eomer started towards us, flanked by Eothain and three other guards. "My lady, perhaps this isn't a good idea. The King looks angry."

"Oh, that's just his face," I assured him. "Let me do the talking, ok? Just stand there with that terrified look on your face."

"I don't believe that will be a difficulty to accomplish," he said tightly. I pat his arm.

"My dear, beloved wife, before the Rohirrim rode to Gondor's aid on the Pelennor, I was overcome with a sinking feeling, as though doom were near at hand. That day, I lost my King," Eomer said dryly as he came over. "Why is it that one guilty smile from you can evoke the same feeling?" Pierce bowed ridiculously low, and Eomer's eyebrow twitched up a fraction in amusement. Eothain coughed into his fist.

"Because you're a brilliant, breathtakingly handsome man who I love, worship, and adore?" I suggested.

Eomer rolled his eyes and braced his arm up on the wall. "Or because I made the mistake of marrying a woman to whom I have trouble saying no. What do you want?"

"Now, remember you love me, that I never ask for things, and... Uh...that you love me."

His eyes narrowed. "You said that twice."

I licked my lips nervously. "I felt it was worth reiterating."

Eomer sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Oh, Bema. What did you do now?"

"I took an apprentice."

Eomer's eyes flicked to Pierce, who squirmed uncomfortably and stared at the floor. Eomer looked back at me. "All of Rohan, and you pick Lord Rumolf's youngest son."

"He has the mind for it," I told him. "He has the potential to become as good as I am, maybe better. I won't live forever, and Rohan needs someone to take over after I'm gone."

"I do not doubt the need for you to pass on your knowledge, lady," Eomer sighed. "Nor do I doubt your ability to teach him."

"Is it my choice? I'm a fairy good judge of character. I chose you, after all," I reminded him. "If I tell you he can do it, then he can do it."

"That is not the cause of my reticence." He glanced at Pierce, then back at me. "At the moment, I am much more concerned with who you intend should seek Rumolf's permission to take his son to Meduseld."

I bit my lip, then cleared my throat. "Yeah, ok, I may not have worked out all the details yet," I allowed.

"Is there any way I can convince you not to ask me to do what I think you're about to ask me to do?" Eomer asked, rubbing his forehead like he was getting a headache.

"Have I told you how handsome you are?"

Eomer rolled his eyes, then gave me a look. "That dog won't hunt."

"Remember that you love me and... that I'll take all your diplomatic meetings for a month," I said desperately.

"For the rest of your life," Eomer countered dryly. He looked at me, then shook his head in affectionate resignation and sighed again. "Done, lady."

I smiled. "Done, Romeo."

He looked at Pierce, straightening from the wall. "Come, then, lad." Pierce looked up, his expression somewhere between disbelief and hope. I smiled and winked at him, and Eomer clapped him on the shoulder. "It seems we must speak with your father."