The dark hours passed by slowly in the modest windowless room and finally Aedre lay down upon her small cot, her thoughts trying to understand why she was here and what would become of her. She had only just begun to realize that the world of men was not the same as that of Orcs, it seemed she was not beaten for no reason, or even when she did something wrong, still this was a hard fact to become used to. The long ride of the day and the shock of losing the only person she had come close to trusting left her exhausted and sleep quickly claimed her.

She awoke many hours later to a gentle but persistent shaking of her shoulder, for a moment she thought that one of the Orcs had come for her in the darkness and she opened her eyes fully expecting to see his scabbed face and bloodshot eyes staring at her. Instead a kindly plump face swam into her vision, Aedre gave a soft cry of surprise and quickly tried to move away, the woman hushed her and spoke words she did not fully understand: only random words made any sense to Aedre's ears and none seemed to fulfill a full sentence but the older woman's voice was soothing and non-threatening and finally Aedre let the woman help her out of bed. She was aided in dressing in a long cream woolen under dress that was covered with a dark green jumper tunic which laced at the sides, the woman then bound her hair into a braid and secured it carefully, all the while she talked calmly and tenderly, Aedre felt on edge but in the same moment eased by the gentle mannerisms.

She was led into the lazy morning kitchens and quickly put to work. The same woman showed her how to peel vegetables, prepare meat and grind herbs. Aedre found that no one bothered her despite the area being well tended by kitchen hands and the clamor and bustle soon became background noise to her own thoughts, her ease growing as no one seemed to take notice of her. Her work was quite an easy task and the food smelled wonderful as it cooked, she watched as other women tasted the meats that basted or nibbled upon a freshly cooked vegetable, but she dared not, tampering with food was the worst offense to any Orc and the embedded lessons would not leave her. She was given cheese, fresh warm bread and an apple to eat half way through the day before the evening meal was started for the people who dwelled within the Golden Hall.

The following days passed in much the same manner, the older woman staying beside her, soothing Aedre if she became panicked, or the kitchens busy. Within a few weeks Aedre was able to sit upon her stool and do her work without much thought or fear towards any of the other workers, she labored well and did all she was instructed and for this she was given space and understanding.

Soon, she herself was sent out to serve the food to the residents, the great hall was near empty, only a few men sat upon the tables but as her eyes grazed over them she only recognized the man called Faramir, Anborn it seemed had either departed or was avoiding her. She served roasted meats to each table, the last stood at the head of the hall, where the regal, brooding man now sat deep in talk with a finely robed older man who sat beside him. Aedre quickly placed the food down, repeating the action she had done at each table to make the task quick and less unnerving. She turned and with her head bent, her gaze fixed upon the ground she walked across and made her way back to the kitchens.

Éomer watched the girl serve the food, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, he was glad he had suggested she help serve his meal, to not have to deal with fawning serving girls was a blessing, he turned quickly back to the conversation, his mind instantly forgetting her.

---

The weeks passed, Faramir and his band of men departed for Gondor once more. Winter turned slowly and thankfully to spring, fresh food began to become more widely available and salted meats not the staple diet. The sun shone more regularly upon the windswept plains of Rohan and Éomer found more days, more excuses to ride for longer periods, to take small parties of men hunting for Orcs or Wildmen. But now the spring rains had begun and he was caged inside his Golden Hall once again, his brow folded back into a brooding frown as the sound of rain echoed through the wall reminding him sullenly of how much he felt suffocated by this throne and the tight crown that pinched at his skin. He settled back into the furs and stared down the hall, the bitterness welling within him. He was a warrior, had been raised as such, he was not made to sit upon a throne and govern a kingdom, that was his uncle's, his cousin's province, even his sister would be a better ruler than he, he felt restless and ill at ease with his newly found regal position.

He watched quietly as the serving women cleaned the tables, swept the floor and generally made themselves useful. They were all buxom and pretty, Rohan women with strong wills and unashamed eyes. They glanced at him with sly smiles, smiles that he knew all too well from his own mind and his men's, that signified they were wondering what it was like to bed him. Only for them beauty and bosoms were not forefront, power lingered heatedly upon their minds and in their fantasies. His gaze drifted to the skinny wretch of a girl that had come from Gondor, his brow furrowed further as he watched her carefully gathering used plates, cleaning tables. Not once did her eyes flick to his position, not once did she sidetrack from her work. He lightly stroked his chin as the words of Faramir came back to him, he had thought his brother exaggerating in his tale but still it would not leave him, a story of a woman raised brutally by Orcs, unable to speak, taken at such a tender age that she had forgotten people, kindness… He wondered if she acted like an Orc in private and then smirked at his own childish thoughts. He had given his word to Faramir that he would not let it be known of her origins, giving her a chance of a normal life and so he was the only man in Rohan that knew the secret; it somehow made the days seem less tedious to have such a curious creature to ponder upon - at least until the rains abated.

---

The happy news of the birth of Éowyn and Faramir's child reached the Golden Hall and there were great feasts held in Edoras in celebration. The child was male and had been named Elboron. Éomer became eager to leave and visit his sister, hold the dear new kin in his arms and leave the regal duties he was bound to for a small time.

Finally the nobles and advisers of Edoras were prepared to let him have his visit and begrudgingly sent him on his way with warnings that Éomer King could not leave the city for long, he was needed and his loyalties lay with his people not Gondor. Éomer rolled his eyes as he mounted his horse Firefoot and paid them little heed as his men took to their saddles about him.

"I shall not be absent for long" he soothed gruffly, wishing the old men would leave him in peace to do as he wished, how his uncle had put up with their fussing and fretting he could not fathom, they were worse than nagging women.

"Perhaps while there you could call upon Prince Imrahil and his daughter" one of them put in.

Éomer let out a heavy sigh; still they plagued him with suggestions upon whom he should marry. "My sister and her child are my main concern" he replied tactfully, his true feelings wishing him to say much more and in a less delicate way.

The man gave a short bow and he took a few steps backward as Firefoot pawed the ground wishing to be away, galloping across the plains.

Without another word Éomer gently pushed into his horse's side and the beast sprang into motion, taking him from Edoras, away from the men and onto the sprawling plains that spread wide and wild before him, at least for a for a short while he could pretend he was free.

---

Through the king's absence the Golden Hall became quiet, the duties, feasts and cooking less and Aedre found that she had much personal time upon her hands, time that she had no idea how to use, she had never had such a thing before. The plump older woman who had aided her over the passing weeks seemed to take a shine to Aedre and visited her often, stemming the unease and fear she felt around people or at the very least around women. Aedre had learnt that her name was Sunniva; she was in the late fifties of her years, her face round, flushed and kindly with light red hair the color of a faint sun setting. Over the coming weeks Sunniva began to teach Aedre the words of the common tongue using her hands, objects and crude charcoal drawings to express her point and meaning. Although the kindly woman could not tempt the lean girl to actually talk, slowly they began to understand each other and to hold stunted conversations that were almost completely one sided. Still, Aedre nodded excitedly at each thing she understood, feeling a sense of freedom and lightness in being able to understand what was being said to her.

The fatty, smoking tallow candles burned dimly as Sunniva talked over the day's happenings, gossip and other goings on of the great hall.

"I often wonder," she continued, her train of thought about one of the other serving girls, "if she shall ever find a husband, the way she looks at our Lord, Éomer King is shameful, even the other girls' wandering eyes don't stare so boldly." She paused, "And the nobles fret so that Éomer King is still away, it will be three months by the end of this week." Sunniva frowned. "Still, he's always been the same." She huffed and then gave a kindly smile as she noticed Aedre listening raptly; trying to understand what was being spoken. "You're such a tiny thing," she commented, "yet you eat so much, I wonder if you'll ever be naught but skin and bone." Sunniva softly smiled at Aedre. "I know there's a story behind your eyes Aedre, wish I knew it." Her bright blue eyes lingered over Aedre's scarred face before she inwardly shook herself. "And so do half the Golden Hall." She gave a low chuckle before rising from her seat. "Shall we go and eat? There should be some leftovers in the kitchen."

Aedre understood the words well enough and nodded gladly. They made their way down the dark passageway to the still humid kitchens and Sunniva dipped two crude wooden bowls into a lukewarm stew and passed one to Aedre, they seated themselves and began to eat. Aedre chewed slowly, having learnt all too well that there was plenty of food here and she was freely given it whenever she hungered.

Before they had finished their food a great commotion reached their hearing and Sunniva jumped from her seat, her brow furrowing in question. "Aedre!" she said, gesturing for the younger girl to rise.

Aedre rose to her side and followed obediently as Sunniva led the way towards the sound of commotion, the great hall seemed to be in chaos as riders, nobles and guards flooded in, their boots tracking in clumps of mud across the newly swept floor. Aedre stayed hidden a little behind Sunniva, the feeling of the older woman's closeness lending a barrier to all of the noise. She stared at the newly mudded floor in melancholy, knowing that she would once again have to clean it and this would interrupt her time learning and listening.

She heard Sunniva give out a gasp of shock and looked up to see what had startled her so, the man she called Éomer King was being half dragged, half carried into the hall, his skin sweat covered, dirt and encrusted blood clinging to his face and hair. The men about them shouted in panic as Éomer tried vainly to regain his footing and free himself from 'helping' hands.

"We were attacked by Orcs!" one of the men trying to still carry him called to the worried onlookers.

"I am fine, free me you fools!" Éomer boomed, his anger startling for one who looked to be quite badly injured. "It is but a flesh wound, no more."

As he spoke servants crowded into the room with astonished gasps and some of the women even gave low shrieks at their king's appearance.

"You there, women." A finely dressed man holding a roll of parchment gestured to a group of young serving girls clustered together. "Come help your king to his chambers."

The girls started forward all too eagerly, their eyes glinted with a hungry self satisfaction.

"No," Éomer said, his gruffness not subsiding, "I do not wish to be tended by such cloying fingers." His gaze flicked to Sunniva who looked on in concern, and then Aedre whose eyes were firmly upon the mud stained floor, her brow furrowed. "Let the oldest and least appealing take me into their care." Eyes widened at their king's brutal and cruel words but none dared to speak given his current ill temper. "Their hands are less likely to wander." He gave a faltering step, his body lunging forward, his men quickly caught him, but Éomer's eyes were now closed, his body limp in their grasp.

"He's fevered!" Sunniva said in a breathless whisper.

The men again began to half carry Éomer, the guards gesturing for the two women the king had wished to tend him to follow them. Sunniva wrapped a hand around Aedre's wrist and they followed the entourage to the king's own chambers. Éomer was laid upon his bed and both women were given instructions to undress the king and make him comfortable, tend his wounds and clean his body until the king's personal healer could be summoned.

Sunniva quickly showed Aedre what she wished her to do and the two women set about removing his armor.

Unbuckling armor was something Aedre was quite familiar with; she had done similar chores for the Orcs after their battles, helped them from their armor, and cleaned their wounds… The only striking differences were that no one was lashing at her heels to hurry her task and this man did not smell anywhere near as bad as a battle returned Orc.

Sunniva carefully removed his steel and leather vanbraces that covered his forearms and then the pauldrons at his shoulders, while Aedre unbuckled the greaves that protected his lower legs and with some effort pulled off the heavy, mud encrusted leather boots beneath. Sunniva removed his beautifully engraved rust coloured leather and steel cuirass, Aedre helping her with lifting the man for ease of removal. Aedre did not think she had ever seen such fine or abundant armor, beneath the outer armor were several more layers that had to be carefully shed, a long mail shirt, a finely made long skirt of leaf mail belted at his waist beneath which was a lighter mail skirt. As Aedre took the garments from Sunniva and laid them carefully over a chair she wondered how anyone could stand, let alone wield a sword under such weight. Under all his protection was a leather tunic and woolen hose.

Aedre passed Sunniva a warm fur blanket at the older woman's command and watched as it was laid over him, unable to stop the fascination that his bare body beheld for her. Sunniva then fetched a jug of water and a clean rag used for the king's daily washing and handed it to Aedre giving her silent instructions to tend to the man, she then left the room in order to fetch clean, hot water and cloths.

Aedre hesitated a moment before wiping the streaks of sweat and dirt from his brow. As she worked his lips began to move, mumbling softly until finally his eyes fluttered open. He glanced about him, his dark brow frowning in confusion at his surroundings before finally his gaze focused upon Aedre; he blinked as if his eyes were clouded.

Aedre slowly removed her hand, feeling a strange pride that she did not give in to her first instinct to move back in fear as she would have done only a few months before, the fear was still hardened and heavy within her breast but she knew she could control it up to a point.

The man gave a low groan and wiped his hand across his eyes.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice not as thick as it had been in the great hall.

Aedre flinched at the sound and movement but remained still as his eyes took in the familiar items and feel of his own room. She thought she had understood him well enough but still her nervousness prevented her from replying in any form.

"Home…" he murmured, "the Orcs..." His brows knitted together, "an ambush." He gritted his teeth as anger swelled within his heart, before he noticed fully the young girl stood beside his bed. He recognized her as the Orc girl and eyed her a little wearily. "Has my healer been called for?" He pulled up the furs, not waiting for her to answer, and carefully touched the wound upon his inside thigh, giving a low hiss as the pain spread from it at the brush of his fingers.

He looked back at the girl, noticing she hadn't answered and his eyes clouded with annoyance before the realization that she could not speak came back to him.

"Can you even understand me?" Éomer asked finally, his eyes bearing a little glint of mocking light.

Aedre nodded uncertainly, Éomer's brow rose in surprise. "So you can understand." He stroked his chin for a moment, this situation taking his mind from the pain momentarily. "Have you always been able to understand?"

The girl furrowed her brow in confusion, her expression clearly saying she did not understand his last words.

"No, my Lord, she has only just begun to learn."

Éomer turned at the sound of the voice and smiled warmly. "Sunniva, it is always you that I find tending me in my times of injury."

Sunniva laughed. "You were no different as a child, never admitting how much cuts or grazes pained you" she mockingly chided. "Why, when you were but seven you broke your arm and none of us knew for the entire day!"

Éomer laughed softly. Sunniva placed a steaming bowl of water scattered with herbs down upon a table nearby. "Let me see where you are hurt" she said motheringly, and Éomer pulled the furs back revealing the nasty, jagged wound that seeped ruby blood down his leg.

"It is not so bad" he joked, with a small smile forming upon his lips.

Sunniva placed a cloth into the water and set about cleaning around the gash, giving him a reproachful look as she did. She signaled to her side for Aedre to come forward which the young girl did, all but tentatively, and Sunniva guided Aedre's hands into holding the cloth over the wound, stemming some of the flow as she searched a moment for bandages. At the pressure Éomer gave a grunt of pain and Aedre flinched.

Éomer studied her a moment as she relaxed, her eyes drifting back to the wound, checking that she had it fully covered.

"She is a strange creature" he said as much to himself as to Sunniva. "She does not recoil from a bloody cut but from me she shrinks."

Sunniva glanced up, her gaze drifting to Aedre. "Yes, she is a strange creature," she agreed, "but good and obedient." She paused a moment, gathering her bandages. "Her nervous nature makes her almost endearing."

Éomer smiled, "You have too much motherly devotion in you to turn away such a pitiful thing."

Sunniva smiled, "Aye there is that, such a shame too." She moved Aedre's hand and began to mop up the remaining blood before beginning to bandage his leg.

"What's a shame?" Éomer said, wincing.

"She's scarred beyond all telling, you can't see properly of course, not in this dim light, but her face is a mass of them and her body riddled with deep scars from cuts and who knows what else, must have led a hard life wherever she hails from."

Éomer's eyes went instinctively to the young girls face; Sunniva was right - in the dim light of the Golden Hall, her face almost appeared unmarred, peaked and sunken, until the candlelight caught her flesh just so and the long light pink scars shone. He stared transfixed, never had he seen a woman so badly scarred, so badly hurt… Her eyes connected with his for a moment and in that small flash he saw something beyond scarred flesh, a beauty that lay hidden beneath it all, but it was fleeting and lasted all but a few seconds, he turned his gaze away.

Sunniva eyed him a moment. "I suppose you will not tell me of her past." She gave a knowing nod towards the girl who still lurked uncertainly behind her.

Éomer smiled, "I don't know what you mean Sunniva" he teased.

"Keep your secret then" Sunniva said as if talking to a small boy.

"What is she called?"

"Her name is Aedre, if it's her true name or not I cannot say." She paused, putting the finishing touches to her makeshift bandage. "There, that should be enough until the healer arrives, but it will need to be closed."