A/N: First, my apologies that it's taken so long for this sequel so many have kindly asked for! It took me a long time to come up with an idea that would tie together the bits and pieces I wanted to address, and then when I finally started working on it, (last January, believe it or not) life took a turn for the strange -- job loss, moving to a different state, caring for a family member during the last few weeks of her life, my own acute bronchitis (I'd not been that sick in over 20 years!) -- and the result was my writing taking a very long hiatus. Although I'm still looking for a job, things are much more settled now, allowing me to write in several different fandoms plus my novel.

Also, the main idea for this came from two people: my friend Airekel and someone else who left me a review last December-January. I keep all the reviews, and looked for it this morning wanting to acknowledge the person, and can't find it. If the story idea looks familiar, please let me know. It was a great idea, and I'm sorry it took me so long to actually get it written.

As with all stories I post here, this one is completely written. I'm also going to be posting a story in a different fandom, and rather than overwhelm the system (I want to get everything I've got ready posted before Nov. 1st so I can concentrate on NaNoWriMo) I'm uploading the first two parts of this today, and will post the rest (there are five chapters total) tomorrow.

Eomer jerked awake, then went completely still. It took only moments for his mind to register that he was in bed, in Meduseld, with Lisswyn curled against him. He knew from painful experience it would take longer for his heart to catch up, and he bit back an oath.

Another nightmare.

Lisswyn made a noise and shifted closer to him. Glad that she still slept, he turned toward her, and buried his face in her hair. As the months of their marriage passed, she was sleeping more soundly, no longer as prone to the dreams that had troubled her in the beginning: nightmares of Hunlaf, or the orcs in the caves. Maegwen's death. Maybe it was time passing, maybe she was simply coming to feel safe.

None of which explained why he was now the one being plagued by nightmares.

Or memories, rather.

He pulled away from Lisswyn and shook his head in another attempt to dispel the dream before pulling the covers around her and slipping out of the bed. He was unlikely to sleep again, indeed, he didn't want to. Not if those images were going to taunt him. He dressed quietly in the near dark, and then stirred the fire so that Lisswyn wouldn't awaken to a chamber that could be chilly even in the spring.

Before leaving, he moved first to the door to Brynwyn's room, and listened for a moment before quietly opening it and peering inside. In the light of her fire, he could see her curled up, her young cat at her feet. Snowball raised her head and looked at him, then licked a paw before rolling over the other direction. Creeping across the room, Eomer stirred her fire as well, then turned, exited into the main hall. The only sound was that of the dooryards speaking softly to one another, and they would be unsurprised to find their king prowling around in the middle of the night.

All seemed as it should be, and yet…unable to stop himself, he crossed the hall and stopped outside Eowyn's door. His sister wouldn't thank him for waking her, and really he had no plans to do so. He just needed to know she was well. Safe. Alive. Resting his head against her door for a moment, he heard nothing, and knew he would have to be satisfied with that. He sighed quietly, then turned, went back to his study. He may as well get some work done while he waited for the rest of Meduseld to awaken.

"Lisswyn, you must do something." Eowyn paced around the queen's sitting room.

"These should be some of the happiest days of my life, should they not, as I anticipate my wedding? And instead, it's like he's preparing for a funeral – but won't tell me why. He's driving me mad."

Eowyn wasn't alone in that, nor, Lisswyn suspected, was she alone in believing the queen should be able to solve the problem. But she didn't know how, and that failure hurt.

"I've tried. He doesn't – quite – growl at me the way he is everyone else, but he doesn't talk to me, either. He just tells me to leave him be, then goes off to his study, or the stables."

"Does he not understand how unfair he's being?" Annoyance moved into Eowyn's tone.

No, Eomer was seeing only his own pain and feelings of loss, Lisswyn thought. The entire household was to leave for Gondor– and Eowyn's wedding to Faramir – in a matter of days, and the closer that date of departure came, the blacker the King's mood.

"I just tried to start an argument with him. I thought if I could get him to shout at me, we could talk about it. Instead, he just shook his head and then turned and walked away."

"Well, deliberately provoking him isn't a method I'd tried yet," Lisswyn said ruefully.

"Don't bother. It didn't succeed. I know he's proud of his increased control over his temper, but I can't help but feel we'd all be better off for a good shouting match."

"We leave for Gondor in three days. Maybe once we're on the road, his mood will improve. You know how he loves being out of Meduseld."

"I hope so. I'm not sure I'm ever going to be able to forgive him for spoiling my last few days in Edoras."

There were tears hovering now, and Lisswyn rubbed her eyes tiredly. Eowyn was as entitled to nervous tears as much as the next woman at the thought of her wedding – perhaps even more so, given that wedding was in another kingdom, with all the attendant concerns about differences in traditions and protocol – but that didn't mean Lisswyn knew how to comfort her. Particularly since her nuptial nerves were being made so much worse by Eomer's mood. "Don't say that, Eowyn, please. You'll be back in Meduseld for visits, you know that. And whatever is bothering him won't last forever."

"I know. I'm just so angry with him." She stalked around the room again, frustration apparent in her steps. "Why can't he just be happy for me? He likes Faramir. I know he does. He calls him his brother."

"Of course he likes him. And he is happy for you. He's just…he's losing you, Eowyn."

Eowyn gave her a disbelieving look. "I'm losing him, as well – does he not know how much I'll miss him? But I'm not stomping around, making everyone around me miserable. He at least will still be here, where everything is familiar!"

Knowing Eowyn had a point, Lisswyn stared at her helplessly. "Perhaps it's something else distressing him. I do know he's not sleeping well – he comes to bed after long after I do, and is awake far earlier."

But it wasn't, and she thought they both knew it.

The morning of their departure, Eomer stepped through the great doors of Meduseld onto the porch, and felt immediately the crushing weight of dozens of eyes anxiously watching him. He glanced around, saw not only their rather large traveling party gathered at the base of the steps, but many of the people of Edoras who'd come to see them off, as well. Understanding it was expected of him, he tried to smile, and knew it to be closer to a grimace.

His gaze settled on Eowyn. She was already mounted, and was laughing at something Elfhelm was saying to her. Why could the image he carried of her in his heart not be this one, of her laughter and joy, rather than that other one? The darker one that stalked his dreams?

She turned to look up at him, and the smile faltered. Determined to try harder not to spoil this for her, he made another attempt to smile, and then said, "People of Edoras, behold the White Lady of the Riddermark, soon to be the Princess of Ithilien!"

The people cheered, and Eowyn relaxed. He started to turn, and then noticed Lisswyn. She wasn't mounted yet, but was standing at the bottom of the stairs, leaning on Dancer. She was smiling a little, her eyes gleaming with what he thought might be pride. In him? Merely for making such a small attempt to please Eowyn? Shame pricked at him, and then deepened when he took a closer look at her. Exhaustion marked her pale features, with dark circles beneath her eyes. Had he caused that?

He'd judged leaving their bed when he was unable to sleep to be a better choice than inflicting his tossing and turning on her, but perhaps he'd erred in that. He'd make sure they didn't travel long today, no matter Eowyn's eagerness to get to Gondor, and would stay in bed with Lisswyn, regardless of his own restlessness.

Even as he made the decision and started down toward her, her expression changed to puzzlement and he turned, followed her gaze. Andric stood off to the side of the porch, staring at Eoden, a stricken look on his face. Before Eomer could call to him, though, the younger boy turned and darted away. "I'll go check on him," he called to Lisswyn before following him.

By his own choice, Andric had decided to remain in Edoras with the young colt he'd chosen from the herds the month before rather than go to Gondor, and the only explanation Eomer could find for the boy's behavior was that he'd just discovered he'd rather go with them, after all. But if so, it was easily resolved. They'd not actually left yet left, and weren't in such a hurry he couldn't quickly grab what he needed for the trip.

Andric wasn't in the paddock, so he turned to the stable. But when he saw the disconsolate figure in the stall, leaning against the young horse, Eomer hesitated. The slumped shoulders suggested more than just a change of heart over the trip. "Andric? What is it?"

"Sire." He rubbed at his face, turned to Eomer. "Please tell Eoden, Lisswyn and Brynwyn I said farewell. I can not."

"What? Why?" Thoroughly baffled, Eomer stepped into the stall, automatically holding out his hand for the colt to sniff, his gaze never leaving Andric.

Andric swallowed. "I just can not."

On decidedly shaky ground, Eomer cautiously said, "Very well," and started to turn. It felt wrong to leave, but he didn't know how to force the boy to explain what was going on, or even if it was wise. Was this about staying behind, or not?

"Please bring them back safely," came the whisper from behind him, and Eomer jerked back toward him, saw Andric was fighting tears. Obviously embarrassed, he turned around as if doing something for the colt, his back to Eomer.

"What?"

It took a long moment before the words came. "They went to Gondor, and didn't come back."

Confusion was quickly replaced with an aching compassion. "Your father and older brothers."

"I said good-bye, and never saw them again."

Even knowing what was bothering the boy, Eomer didn't know how to help him. He wanted to leave him his pride, and yet… He walked closer, rested his hand on Andric's shoulder."They will come home. I promise."

Andric took a shuddering breath and nodded, his head resting against the side of the colt.

"Are you certain you would not like to come to Gondor with us? It is not too late. Breghelm will care for Brightstar."

Andric turned, looked up at him, and for just a moment, he saw something, a glint of wistfulness in the boy's eyes. But then he shook his head and glanced over his shoulder at the colt, which butted him with his head. "No, sire," he said, turning back to Eomer. "I would like to go," he admitted. "But Brightstar needs me. He is very young. And with Eoden gone, Breghelm will need me, as well."

Eomer's throat wanted to close, and he had to clear it before he could speak. "Though Lisswyn and I would both enjoy having you with us, I am very proud of you, Andric, for wanting to stay. For thinking of Breghelm."

Shy wonder came into Andric's eyes at the praise, and he ducked his head. Eomer squeezed his shoulder, and then turned to leave.

"Please come home."

It was the barest of whispers, possibly not really meant for his ears, but Eomer turned, met the boy's gaze with a steady one of his own. "I swear to you, Andric. We will all come home."

He walked out of the stables, his heart aching for the boy. Then his own fears came back to him, and he scowled. That was the problem. They weren't all coming back.

Lisswyn's anxiety grew as she watched Eomer walk back to them from the stables, his expression the grim one they'd seen so much of recently. Had something happened to Andric's colt? If so, the boy would be crushed, and what could they then do for him, to comfort him? They couldn't delay the trip to Gondor.

The worry and weariness she couldn't seem to shake nearly overwhelmed her, and she forced herself to stand straighter, ever aware of the eyes on her.

Eomer motioned to Eoden and Breghelm to follow him as he came to her, and when they'd reached her side, he softly reported his conversation with Andric.

Eoden looked stricken, and turned, as if to go to his brother before stopping and looking at Eomer, a misery on his face. "Sire?"

Eomer stared at the ground for a moment, a frown on his face, before looking at the boy. "I don't know what's best, Eoden. You may certainly stay here with him, if you desire to do so and believe it will comfort him. Firefoot and I would miss you," and for the first time in a many days, Lisswyn caught the hint of smile around his lips, "but we would survive."

"Twouldn't help him," Breghelm said flatly. "It would merely shame him, if Eoden stayed with him rather than doing his duty at your side. The best you can do for him is to return home." His voice softening, he glanced at Eomer before looking back at Eoden. "You cannot always be with him, son. That is not the way of the world. He'll be fine. I will keep him distracted with the colt."

"And so you have ever done," Eomer murmured.

Breghelm ducked his head in what passed for a bow from him, then turned once again to Eoden. "Look after the horses in your charge. I'll look after your brother." With that, he turned and moved quickly toward the stables.

"He did the same for you, didn't he?" Eoden asked. At Eomer's nod, he said simply, "Then Andric will be fine. I'll get Firefoot for you." With his confidence in his priorities apparently restored, he hurried away, toward where Eomer's mount stood, pawing impatiently.

Lisswyn smiled at Eomer. "Maegwen would be proud of them."

His voice a bit rough, Eomer said, "And she would be right to be so. Shall I help you mount, my lady?"

Glad that for a time, at least, he seemed distracted from his dark mood, she smiled again, and held out her hand. "You may, my lord."

After assisting her, he mounted, and with a shout, they started down the road through the city. They had five carts with them: one with Eowyn's belongings, one that was primarily their supplies for the trip, and three that served as transports for the youngest and eldest among them. There were many who'd wished to see The White Lady wed, and not all of them were of an age and well-being to ride. Lisswyn rode next to the cart with Brynwyn, Hilde, and the children of Ceolwyn and Eothain; Ceolwyn rode on the other side. Eowyn, in high spirits, changed her position frequently, riding first near the carts, then circling around to greet members of Eomer's guard she knew particularly well.

As that first day passed, Lisswyn watched Eomer carefully, and saw he was trying to keep his feelings from affecting the rest of the traveling party. He also changed his position often, riding for a while next to Eothain, apparently in discussion about the road and their journey, then greeting all the men of his guard individually. But he and Eowyn never seemed to be near one another, which troubled Lisswyn greatly.

He did not ignore Lisswyn, riding for a while beside her as well, but he spoke little, appearing lost in his own thoughts. From the cart, Brynwyn looked at him unhappily, and did not ask for a ride on Firefoot.

They did not hurry, and took several breaks so that those unused to riding for such long periods of time could stretch their legs and rest, and they stopped for the day while it was still light.

Off the road, across a small stream and behind a copse of trees, they made camp. Lisswyn dismounted with a sigh, grateful to be out of the saddle for a while, then wearily turned to begin caring for Dancer. As she did, she noticed Eomer and Eoden a short distance away. Eomer motioned toward her, and the boy nodded before jogging over to her.

"I'll care for her, Lisswyn," he said. "You look very tired."

Tired didn't begin to cover it, and she nodded her thanks before turning to where Ceolwyn was supervising the children as they tumbled about on a grassy area beneath a tall tree.

She sighed as she collapsed next to the other woman. "I know I should walk around a bit, and would be less stiff later for having done so, but right now, all I want is to stretch out on something that isn't moving!"

Ceolwyn grinned at her. "I know. It is always the same at the beginning of a journey." She leaned forward and rubbed her lower back. "At least I know I can count on a back rub from Eothain later!"

Eomer had sometimes done the same for her after a long ride, and Lisswyn shivered with longing in spite of her exhaustion. Such encounters nearly always led to their making love, something they'd not done for a number of days now. She knew, knew, his love and desire for her had not lessened, and that change, too, was due to his mood over Eowyn's departure. But that didn't make the lack easier to tolerate.

Silence fell between them as they watched Brynwyn and Jocosa playing with the toddler, Hengest. Denulf, still not quite a year old, slept on a blanket next to Ceolwyn.

Her voice hesitant, the other woman finally broke the quiet. "Forgive me for asking, but is the king well?"

Lisswyn didn't answer right away. Though she longed to pour out her concerns to Ceolwyn, even with close friends she knew she had to be careful of what she said. "He will be," she said. She hoped. Managing a wry smile, she added, "he is not handling Eowyn's departure very well."

Understanding lightened Ceolwyn's face, and she let out a soft laugh. "Is that what it is? I should have guessed. My father liked Eothain very much, but he stomped around our house for several weeks before we were wed, refusing to speak to anyone."

Heartened by the story, Lisswyn smiled in response. She could only hope she'd spoken in truth, and that whatever was bothering him was nothing more than what it appeared. But she was certain it was more than that. He was having nightmares, at least based on the noises he sometimes made. But what did that have to do with Eowyn's departure? What if they were wrong? Was it something other than his sister's wedding?

Suddenly unbearably tired, Lisswyn brought her legs up and rested her head on her knees.