The Rohan Pride Trilogy

Part One: Alone

Book One

By:WhiteLadyOfTroy

Summary:

When Gúthwyn, the youngest child of Théodwyn and Éomund, becomes a slave of Sauron, she makes a deadly bargain with the Dark Lord. If she fails at the task he sets before her, then the lives of those she loves will be compromised.

About the Trilogy:

I have decided to do what Tolkien did with his books. The Fellowship of the Ring had two books within the text, as did The Two Towers and The Return of the King. The only change I have made is the first part in my trilogy: Alone. This will be divided into three books, the first book explaining how Gúthwyn got to where The Fellowship of the Ring started.

About Chapter One:

Some of you may be wondering later on about my inclusion of horses. You will notice that all of Gúthwyn's family has the same animal that they rode in The Lord of the Rings. However, I researched it online, and the average lifespan of a horse is said to be twenty-five to thirty years, or somewhere in that area, so I decided that rather than go through the trouble of constructing Rohirric horse names, I would rather keep the ones that were mentioned in The Two Towers and The Return of the King. The hunter (which will be appearing later in this story) is technically mine, but the idea came from Cassia and Siobhan's Priceless Treasures in the Mellon Chronicles series. I am well aware of the fact that I could never hope to compete with them and I hope the hunter in my story isn't a rip-off of the one in Priceless Treasures. As before, I remind you that I do not know much about fighting (swords, bows, 'street smarts', etc) so there may be some things that are incorrect. Once again, names come from The Lord of the Rings UK name translator, except for the rare few that come from The Fourteen Languages of Tolkien's Middle-earth.

Chapter One

Gúthwyn hopped out of her bed with more energy than a rowdy foal. Today was her twelfth birthday, the day that she would be taught how to wield a sword. Ever since Éowyn had started learning Gúthwyn had looked forward to this day, and it was here at last.

Walking towards her dresser, she pulled out the one pair of leggings that Théoden had finally allowed her to keep, along with a matching tunic and a pair of boots. From the top of her bureau she took a comb and quickly ran it through her hair, tying it back in a ponytail when she was done.

Now she was ready for the day. Running out of her room she came into the great hall, where the rest of her family was already congregated at the largest table. When they saw her, they burst into a Rohirric birthday song. The words entered Gúthwyn's ears and flowed through her head, causing her mouth to form a smile. Her grin was even larger when they had finished.

"Happy birthday!" Éowyn cried as she stood, running up to Gúthwyn and giving her a hug.

"Thank you," Gúthwyn replied, gladly returning the embrace. When they parted, Éomer came towards her and picked her up, his strong arms whirling her around in a circle. When he put her down she was laughing.

"Soon I will not be able to do that," Éomer spoke, only making her laugh harder.

"Happy birthday, little cousin," Théodred said affectionately, approaching Gúthwyn and tousling her hair.

"Many thanks," Gúthwyn answered. Last of all, Théoden King came to her, and he held his hands behind his back.

"You grow so fast," he said. "Now that you are old enough to begin to learn the ways of the sword, you deserve to have your own." And when he brought his hands in front of him, Gúthwyn saw the hilt of a sword protruding from a leather sheathe. Her eyes grew wide and for a moment she stood, speechless. Then Théoden presented it to her, and she received it as tears came to the corners of her eyes. Without a word she drew the sword from its encasing, gasping in awe as the blade glittered in front of her eyes. Her hand clenched the hilt, pausing on the two horse heads that joined the blade to the handgrip, and her fingers proceeded to run up and down the surface of the metal, finally coming to rest on the point.

"It is beautiful," she murmured, sliding it gently back into the sheathe.

"What will you call your sword?" Théoden questioned. Gúthwyn though for a moment, and then she looked up and replied,

"Framwine."

"So be it," Théoden spoke, smiling at the name.

"Thank you so much!" Gúthwyn cried as she threw her arms around him, making sure the sword did not get in the way.

"Your welcome," Théoden responded, returning the hug with love. "Let us hope that it will soon be handled by lethal hands."

When the king and his niece had parted, Éowyn approached her sister again. Gúthwyn saw that Éowyn's necklace, a delicate golden chain inlaid with three sapphires, had not been tucked in her shirt like it normally was, and displayed itself proudly on her neck. She had no time to wonder about this, though, for Éowyn began to speak.

"You noticed my necklace." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes," Gúthwyn answered.

"Our mother gave it to me right before she… passed away." Here Éowyn's voice weakened for a split second before strengthening again. Théodwyn's death had been hard for Éowyn and Éomer, who were then seven and eleven. Gúthwyn, who had been three at the time, remembered nothing of her mother except for long, golden hair and warm laughter.

"I remember you saying something along those lines," Gúthwyn said, wondering where this was leading.

"It originally belonged to Morwen of Lossarnach, our grandmother, as you know. She brought it from Gondor, and passed it down to her youngest daughter, along with an identical copy. Mother gave to me the second, to give to you when the time was right. I was unable to decide until I learned that you would begin using a sword on your twelfth birthday. And this is the day I have chosen to give to you. Forgive me if it seems too late to relinquish it." And with those words Gúthwyn took out of her pocket a small drawstring purse and handed it to Gúthwyn.

"Thank you," Gúthwyn whispered. Without another word the two sisters embraced, and the others clearly saw the bond that had grown between them. In a short while they separated, and Gúthwyn drew out of the purse a necklace equal to that of Éowyn's. Slowly, she drew it around her neck and fastened the clasp. When she was done she lowered her hands.

"It looks wonderful on you," Théoden complimented her.

"Thank you," Gúthwyn answered, smiling as she did so.

"Now let us eat!" Théoden announced. "After that Théodred and I will finish some preparations, and then we will be off."

About an hour later Gúthwyn and her family were galloping across the plains near Edoras, heading for a secluded area near the River Snowbourn where Gúthwyn would begin her training. Théoden was at the head of them, riding at ease upon his beautiful white horse Snowmane. Théodred was slightly behind the king upon Brego, keeping pace with his younger cousins. Éomer rode his horse Firefoot, Éowyn was seated upon Windfola, and Gúthwyn was easily managing the young Gweddyn.

The ride was less than half an hour, a few minutes of which were spent fording the river. At last they reached their destination: a small, yet thick ring of trees thirty yards away from the edge of the water. A rock large enough for two people to sit upon was just inside the unnatural formation, yet still left a space large enough for what they were to do that day.

Coming towards the ring, the family dismounted and tied their horses to the outside trees so they had plenty of grazing room. After removing what they would need for the day from the saddlebags, they came into the grove and placed their things on the rock, which Éomer and Éowyn also sat upon. They would be watching as Théoden and Théodred taught Gúthwyn, occasionally giving out pointers or corrections.

As she stood before her older cousin and uncle, holding the wooden practice sword that she was to be using that day, Gúthwyn made a mental note to remember absolutely every detail of this day so she could tell Tun about her experience when she got back.

Gúthwyn and Tun had become fast friends shortly after Gúthwyn had gone to his house one day at the urging of Théodred to apologize. Tun had invited her to wrestle with the boys the next day and soon Gúthwyn was spending all of her spare time with him. He knew all that went on in her life, and it was the same for her. Yes, she would definitely have to tell Tun everything.

The first thing Théodred and Théoden showed her was how to correctly hold a sword. They were through with that in less than half a minute, as Gúthwyn had watched every one of Éowyn's lessons and knew much about the basics. From there the primary jabs and blocks were learned, and after that the footwork.

By the time Gúthwyn had mastered those skills, it was time for a lunch of bread, cheese, and apples. She would be learning some more difficult forms of parrying and footing next. For that Éomer and Théodred would be instructing her, as Théoden claimed that he tired easily in his age. However, it was evident that he wanted to watch his protégé and see for himself areas that needed improvement.

"Are you ready?" Théodred inquired as Gúthwyn finished her meal.

"Yes," she answered, eager to learn more. Now Éowyn and Théoden were seated on the rock, observing Théodred and Éomer as they taught Gúthwyn, who was having some difficulties with the new forms. But the two men were excellent teachers, and soon Gúthwyn was past all obstacles. It was lucky for her that she was a fast learner.

All too soon for Gúthwyn, Théoden announced that they had best leave before the sky turned dark, and the family began to get ready to return to Edoras. Packing their things, they walked outside of the ring to their horses and began untying them.

"Did you have fun?" Théodred questioned Gúthwyn as he attached the bag of leftover food to Brego's saddle.

"Yes!" Gúthwyn exclaimed. "This is the best day of my life!" Éowyn and Éomer chuckled when they heard that. They had both said the exact same thing after their first sword-fighting lesson.

Théoden stood apart from the others, watching them carefully as he stroked the mane of his horse. Something seemed a bit off- almost as if they were being watched… Théoden removed his gaze from his family and casually walked towards the trees, with the excuse of undoing the rope that held his horse to one. He was the last one to do so; the others were placing the supplies on their horses.

Seeing nothing suspicious, Théoden sighed in relief and turned back to Snowmane, removing the rope and placing it in a saddlebag. It must be my imagination, he decided.

At that moment a shriek rose up in the air. Whirling around, Théoden saw Éowyn sink to the ground with an arrow protruding out of her shoulder.

"Éowyn!" he cried, rushing over to her. Bending down he quickly examined her. The arrow wound was not life threatening, but Éowyn had become unconscious. Théoden's eyebrows knit together in confusion. He had never seen an arrow to the shoulder work that swiftly.

"Is she all right?" Gúthwyn asked as she fought to overcome the sobs threatening to wrack her body. Théodred placed a comforting arm around her shoulders and slightly moved so that he was shielding her from any more arrows that might come their way.

"As far as I can tell," Théoden answered grimly. "Did anyone see where that arrow came from?"

"It came from the trees…" Éomer pointed. His look quickly turned to one of horror. "Uncle, watch out!" he cried, reaching towards Théoden and shoving him out of the path of another projectile. In turn, however, he received the arrow, and fell to the ground as if dead.

"Éomer!" Gúthwyn screamed. Pulling free of Théodred, she raced over to her brother as Théoden regained his footing.

"Who is it that dares to assault my family?" he yelled. "Show yourself!"

In the grove that the Rohirrim had just left, a man chuckled softly. Wrapped in a black cloak with a hood that covered his dark hair, he was nearly invisible under the growing shadows of the trees. The horse that he sat upon was silent. The man had been watching this family for a long time now, having seen them as he crept through the plains, searching for a meal that was now long forgotten. A birdcall escaping from his lips had brought his horse trotting quietly towards him- a signal that had long been used between the two.

In his hands the human carried a bow. A quiver on his back was full of arrows. Every one of them had their tips dipped in poison- enough to make the victim unconscious within seconds. At his side a sword hung in its sheathe, ready to be pulled out at any moment.

Perfect, he thought as he looked at his target. My employer will be pleased. A pity I cannot get the other two- but there is not enough space on my horse. He lifted his bow up again and fitted it with an arrow, ready to aim again. With a wicked grin he released the string and with a nudge sent his horse trotting forward.

After Théoden had stated his challenge, what was left of the family looked into the trees. But none of them saw the projectile coming towards its victim until it was too late.

"Gúthwyn!" Théodred cried as the arrow pierced the girl's shoulder. His cousin's eyes rolled into the back of her head as she dropped to the ground and lay there, motionless.

At that moment a horse galloped out from behind the cover of the trees. The rider upon it was not holding the reins but the horse seemed to know where to go as it ran towards Gúthwyn, stepping over Éowyn and Éomer. When it stopped less than a foot away from Gúthwyn, the rider lifted up his bow and pointed it at her, looking up at Théoden and Théodred who were standing five yards away.

"Keep your swords in their sheathes," he warned. "Or I will shoot her again and thus end her life." He nodded down at Gúthwyn.

"What do you want from me? I have nothing of value to you!" Théoden cried, hoping that the attacker was unaware of his status.

"I want her," the man gestured towards Gúthwyn. He smiled as all color drained from the two men's faces. Looking at Théoden, he continued. "If you would be so kind, my lord, as to hand her over, I will go without any further trouble."

"Never!' Théoden yelled, starting towards Gúthwyn. The mysterious rider pulled harder on his bowstring.

"Stop where you are or she is dead!" the hunter said. Quickly Théoden came to a halt. "Remove your swords." Hesitatingly Théoden and Théodred complied. "And I want all further weapons removed from your possession. If they are not all gone in five seconds I will kill her." Quickly the two removed the rest of their arms, which included several knives hidden in various places. "Good. Now I want you-" the hunter gestured towards Théoden, "to come towards me and pick up this lovely girl below me."

As Théodred watched, helpless, Théoden slowly walked towards Gúthwyn, kneeling down by her side.

"Gúthwyn?" he whispered, but to no avail. His niece did not return to consciousness and her body was still lifeless as Théoden lifted her up and faced the man.

"Gúthwyn… what a pretty name," the hunter smirked. "Well done. Now hand her over."

"I cannot," Théoden answered, holding Gúthwyn closer. "It is inhuman. How can you do this?"

"You must not have understood me. I said that you are to give her to me." The hunter sighed. He was getting tired of this. "Now!" he demanded. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the other boy moving towards his bow. "Do not move!" he yelled. Théodred froze where he stood. The hunter then turned his attention back to the king. "You have had enough time. Give her to me now!"

"I hate you," Théoden spat. "Curse you and all of your descendants!"

"Give me the girl," the hunter replied, waving away the accusations with a flick of his hand. Théoden's shoulders sagged, and those few seconds that it took him to place Gúthwyn on the saddle in front of the hunter placed many years on his shoulders.

"I hate you," Théoden repeated. "I will kill you!"

"And how do you plan on performing that task?" the hunter inquired. "If that boy moves towards a weapon again, he gets shot. You have no sword on you either. And if you think you are going to mount your horse when I am gone and ride after me and thus win this lady back, you are sorely mistaken. I have saved a couple of arrows just for this moment." Théoden looked at the man's quiver, puzzled. It was nearly full. "Oh, no, not these," the hunter answered the king's unspoken question. "These." Withdrawing five arrows from inside his cloak, he showed them to Théoden, who grew even more confused. The tip had no poison on it- in fact, it was just a regular arrow. "I knew you would like them," the hunter smiled. He backed up his horse a couple of paces, and without warning fitted one of those missiles to his bow and shot it.

Behind Théodred, the prince's horse Brego fell to the ground, whining in agony with an arrow sticking out of his calf. Théoden then understood the mind of this hunter.

"No…" he whispered. "You would not…"

"Of course I would," the hunter responded. Four more times he shot, until all of the horses were felled. Upon seeing Théoden's stricken look and purposely misinterpreting it, the hunter said, "Do not worry, they will be fully healed soon, if you have the right supplies. But by then I am afraid that you will have lost valuable time in finding Gúthwyn."

"How could you?" the king spoke, stumbling on the words in his fury and horror.

"It is my job," the hunter replied. "Now, I believe it is time to say farewell. I do hope your horses get well soon!" And with that, he turned his steed around and urged him to go forward.

"Théodred, shoot him!" Théoden yelled. As swift as he might, Théodred dove for his bow and neatly fitted an arrow to it. Standing up equally fast he aimed it at the receding hunter and fired it, knowing that if the rider were to be thrown off his horse would stop. The arrow shot through the air and landed, piercing the man's arm.

However, to father and son's astonishment, the man did not fall off his horse. In fact, not a cry escaped his lips. Théodred repeated his action and this time missed the target altogether, as the hunter knew what to expect and was now making short, random curves to avoid the arrow coming at him. He did not even seem to lose speed as he grew smaller and smaller, fading to nothing but a dot on the horizon and then disappearing.

"No…" Théoden whispered. His body shook with utter shock, unwilling to move anywhere but downwards. "NO!" he yelled as he sunk to his knees. "Gúthwyn!"

Théodred also felt numb. As tears slid down his face he realized that he had failed his cousin. If he had thought to aim for the neck instead of the body, Gúthwyn would be with them now. The fact that he did not and could not stop her capture tore at him until the anguish was too much to bear silently.

"Father…" he choked out. "I am so sorry. I was not thinking. I could not… I did not save her." Théodred's apology was meager, far from eloquently spoken, and he knew it. Sobs overtook him and he followed his father, sinking to the ground. Burying his face in his hands, he wept without paying heed to his surroundings. Gúthwyn was gone. He had failed.