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 Two:
The way that the hunter is traveling to his destination I have tried to make as correct as possible. To do this, I am using a book called The Atlas of Middle-earth (the revised edition). For the time to reach this place (which I will not reveal in these notes!) I referred to The Two Towers. Once again, the concept of the hunter and that confrontation scene between him and Théoden is based off of Cassia and Siobhan's Priceless Treasures. As I have said I am well aware of the fact that they easily best me in terms of writing. Remember that my knowledge of fighting is limited. As always, names come from The Lord of the Rings UK name translator (such as Gúthwyn's sword Glamthaus, 'lethal'), with the exception of a small few that I have formed with the help of The Fourteen Languages of Tolkien's Middle-earth. Also, I am no nurse or doctor or expert in Middle-earth healing techniques. I have tried my best but if there is something amiss then please correct me.
Chapter Two
As night fell across the plains of Rohan the hunter began to slow his horse, looking for a place to spend the night. He had ridden over an hour with the boy's arrow in his arm, and he knew that unless he wanted to risk infection he had better take the projectile out. And then there was the girl. Gúthwyn was still asleep, her head resting limply against his shoulder. Occasionally she would moan deliriously, but a slap to the face quieted her for a few minutes.
At last the hunter found a small group of boulders. Pulling on the reins, he slowed his horse down to a stop.
"Time for a rest," he whispered to the mare as he dismounted neatly. Before the girl could fall over he grabbed her and roughly pulled her corpse off of the horse, quickly checking her shoulder for signs of infection. There were none, the hunter saw to his relief. The last thing he needed was another task placed on his already busy hands. He needed to get her to his employer by the end of the week. Then he would be sent out again to take another unfortunate victim.
Shifting the body over to one hand, the hunter grabbed the pouch containing his medical supplies from one of the four saddlebags tied to his horse. First he would see to his wound, then that of the girl's. Lowering Gúthwyn to the ground, he sat on one of the rocks and shook out the contents of the sack. It was mostly cloth bandages, but there were some handkerchiefs and a few assorted herbs if he needed extra help in stopping a fast, thick blood flow.
Holding his arm out in front of him, the hunter looked at the arrow. Although it was painful, it would be easy to mend. From the roll, he took a few strips of bandages and placed them by his side. He would be needing them shortly. Then, grasping the arrow and holding his breath, he quickly pushed it through his limb and snapped the barbed tip off. Just as swift, he pulled the remainder of the projectile back through his arm and discarded it. Immediately scarlet liquid came rushing forth, and he rushed to press some cloth against it to stop it. With small difficulty he reached for the rest of the gauze and managed to wrap it tightly around his arm. It was then that he exhaled.
"Now for you," he muttered, looking over at Gúthwyn. Standing up, he walked over to her with his supplies and knelt down by her right shoulder. Grasping the end of the dart that stuck out of the muscle, he roughly performed the removal procedure once more and pressed the bandages down on the wound when the blood poured forth. When he tightened the final knot, she gasped and her hand flew out at the hunter, striking him in the face.
Almost swifter than the eye could follow, the man's fist shot downward, punching the girl in the stomach and causing her to moan and curl in on herself. It came into the hunter's mind that he should gag her in order to have some peace that night. The poison had not yet entered its worst stage. The fever-induced nightmares that it caused left the bravest man screaming at imaginary demons in fright that was terrible to behold. From what the hunter had gathered, it pulled out your worst fears and surrounded you with them; completely enveloping you until it seemed like no light could penetrate the shadows.
With this in mind, the man went back to his horse and took a rag from one of the hanging purses. Coming back to Gúthwyn he lifted her head up and wrapped the material around it, tying the fabric firmly at the base of her skull. Having completed the task, he packed up the medical equipment, returning once again to his horse and placing everything back in the pouch. Turning to another, he pulled out a carrot and, after rummaging a bit more, a slice of dried meat. It was tasteless, but enough.
"Here you are, Gegwyn," he murmured as he fed his mare the carrot. The animal whinnied happily and set about finishing his food. The hunter, glad that his horse was disciplined enough not to run away when he was not tethered to a tree, walked away and sat on a rock to keep watch for the night, pulling his cloak tighter around him to remain warm. He lit no fire, as he did not want to draw the attention of wild beasts that might be roaming the plains. He had attracted no late-night visitors in all the years that he had done his job, and did not wish to put a black mark on his record.
Five feet away from him, Gúthwyn became restless. Soft moans penetrated through the gag and her breathing became faster. The man smiled. She was in for a rough night.
The fog swirled around Gúthwyn, blocking her view and seeming to suffocate her. Sometimes it was as if the clouds would come together and form a shape resembling a horse, but always it would fall and disappear. Breathing was becoming harder and harder as the clouds pressed in on her.
"Help!" she called. "Help me!" As if to answer her plea, Éowyn appeared in front of her, beckoning to her younger sister to follow before turning away and disappearing into the mists. "Éowyn, wait!" Gúthwyn called. But her sister did not return, and Gúthwyn started after her. It was a hard task, although knowing where to go was not a problem: her feet seemed to know where to place themselves. No, it was the act of forging a path through the heavy fog, which forced her back two steps for every three she took.
At last she came to a clearing- here, no mist swirled. Three shadows were in the center of it. Two were involved in a deadly fight, their swords making an awful clash of metal on metal as they met one another's blade with equal skill. The other was on the ground, lying in what looked to be a pool of their own blood. Gúthwyn couldn't make out who the three were as she stared at their figures.
Suddenly, a single ray of sun pierced downwards and lit up the area that the four were standing in. Now Gúthwyn could clearly see who they were, and the realization tore through her heart.
"No…" she whispered. "It cannot be…" Éomer it was who lay on the ground. It now became apparent to Gúthwyn that he was dead. "NO!" she screamed. "ÉOMER!" At the sound of her voice, Éowyn looked up from her struggle with a cloaked man and directly at the youngest sibling. Her gaze was accusing, and the coldness of it ripped right through Gúthwyn's soul.
"Why were you not here when Éomer fell?" she questioned angrily. "I told you to come! If you had not tarried on your way Éomer would be with us now! His last words were those of hate- and they were directed at you. You, my dear sister, you who failed to come and aid us in our need. I despise you!" A look of wild hatred came into Éowyn's eyes as she spat at her sister.
Tears formed in Gúthwyn's eyes. "I tried!" she protested. "I was held back… Éowyn, watch out!" The yell came from her lips as she saw the hooded figure behind Éowyn raise his sword. The shieldmaiden turned to deflect the blow but she was too late. In an instant half of her face was gone and her opponent's sword glistened with blood. Raising it again, the murderer brought it down towards the side and swung it an a deathly arc, gaining more force every second until finally it met Éowyn's neck and separated her head from her body.
A ghastly scream ripped through the clearing as Éowyn fell. Gúthwyn realized with shock that it came from her own mouth. A cruel laugh was heard shortly after, and Gúthwyn looked with rage upon who she now perceived to be a man. With an angry war cry she raced at the figure. It did not matter that he had a weapon and she carried none. She would kill him with her bare hands.
She was almost at her goal when the human disappeared. Startled, she ran right over where he would have been before she stopped. Looking all around her, she issued a challenge.
"Come back here, you coward! You will pay for what you have done to my family!" But there was no answer, and she stood there, panting, with tears sliding down her face. "Come back!" she tried again, but to no avail.
All of a sudden Gúthwyn was lifted up through the clouds, which seemed to be whispering to her. Transparent figures flew about her, and she realized that they were those of her family: Éomer, Éowyn, Théodred, and Théoden.
What has happened? Gúthwyn wondered, her face full of anguish. I am sorry for what I have done! She tried to reach out to them, but they danced just out of touch. It was then that the whispering got louder.
"You failed us…" the voices of her family seemed to blend together as one that was twisted and contorted with evil, and those of her siblings became prominent. "We placed our trust in you, and you broke it… we are dead because of you…"
"I tried!" she responded. "Please, believe me!" The accusations were only repeated and multiplied until they filled the air. When Gúthwyn placed her hands on her ears and shut her eyes, she felt herself being closed in, and the calls entered her head.
"You failed us…" they began.
"Stop it!" she cried. The harsh laughter of the man echoed in her ear again, and the voices took on a new path.
"You are worthless… nothing but a failure… nobody loves you… least of all us…"
"Stop!" she yelled. Like a candle that had just been put out, the calls faded away, and when Gúthwyn looked up, no one was there. Looking down, she realized that she was thousands of feet up in the air. Then the mysterious force holding her up let go, and she plummeted downwards, the distant ground rushing out to meet her. The last thing she heard before she blacked out was an echoing scream mingled with the haunting "you have failed us… you are worthless."
As Gúthwyn's breathing slowed and her movement stopped, the hunter laughed again. How he enjoyed this cruel form of entertainment. It pleased him to no end.
"Get a good night's sleep," he whispered as he looked at her. "You are going to need the rest for tomorrow." These words were spoken as a wicked grin formed across his face. An evil glint came into his eyes as the roaring laughter escaped the man's lips, filling the plains around him and dancing terribly amongst the grass. "Just wait until you see what I have in store for you, Gúthwyn. Just wait and see."