People are making me update this much faster than I was planning on doing! But I'm happy; it means people like me!
To Turok1: As you should already know from reading the other chapters, this story is a collaboration of mine and my friend Silver's ideas. Neither of us like it when people seem to randomly fall into Middle-Earth for no reason, end up completing the War of the Ring and stay there with nothing to do. So we decided to do something different. Iana and Silver were originally from Middle-Earth, but were seen as a threat to the Dark Lord - who was regaining his strength - and so were captured and supposedly disposed of. But they were sent to our world, and now Middle-Earth is in danger, the magic that sent them into our world reverses and they end up going back to help. They are NOT Mary-sue's (as I cannot stand the things), but they will help in the War of the Ring as best they can. And because they originate from Middle-Earth, they have a ligitimate reason for staying! (It took Silver and I a while to sort out all of the ideas so that they'd fit!)
To Evendim: Silver is pleased that you like her work, and the line from the start of that last chapter was a dig at me! I'm a serious chocoholic, and sometimes Silver has to rein me in!
Anyway, hope you like this chapter, it explains a bit more.
Iana POV
I regained consciousness just as the horse I was riding passed through a large wooden gate. It took a couple of seconds for my eyes to refocus, but once they did, an astonishing sight greeted them. The blonde-haired man was riding his dark brown horse in front of the one I was on. I turned to look at what we were passing. People were standing at the side of the street, staring at me, not even trying to hide their curious glances. Children had stopped their playing to watch the procession; perhaps some of their older brothers or Fathers riding towards the top of the hill. I glanced ahead to see a magnificent building before us, and somehow I realised that I knew this place… The horse heads above the giant double doors were strangely familiar, as was the large sunburst pattern upon them. There was someone standing near the doors, a woman dressed in a flowing green dress, with long, flowing blonde hair.
The horses stopped at the steps leading up to the hall. Somehow, I knew that this was the Golden Hall; that I was in the city of Edoras, Rohan… In Middle-Earth… I shook my head, telling myself that it wasn't right. That even though I had been kidding myself for years that it was real… it wasn't… I started wondering if Karl had managed to knock me out and then slipped me something, possibly something that would induce hallucinations or freaky dreams… All thoughts were jolted out of me as the person sitting behind me dismounted. As the man's arm disappeared, I felt a strange sense of loss, as if the arm was supposed to be there… Suddenly, I realised the man was real, and that he was talking to me.
"Can you get down yourself?" he asked; I didn't answer. I was staring at him, a niggling feeling in the base of my neck, telling me that I knew this man; not a feeling of recognition, but a feeling of actually knowing him intimately in some way… The man frowned, before taking hold of me around my waist and lifting me down with his strong arms; the shock seemed to reawaken my senses. I looked up as I realised that the other blonde haired man had also dismounted and was standing next to me, while the woman in the green dress had hurried down the steps and now stood in front of me, having taken my bag from a guard. A cold shiver ran up my spine as I realised who they were.
"You…" I stammered, "You are-"
"-Théodred, son of King Théoden of Rohan," the man introduced himself, bowing regally.He couldn't have been more than 30 or so, but he looked so young… The other man looked around my age, maybe a couple of years older, and the woman looked ever so slightly younger than me.
"So you are… Éomer… and Éowyn?" I asked; the man and women looked at each other and nodded.
"How do you know our names?" Éomer asked, taking off his helmet and tucking it under his arm. I rubbed my face wearily, wondering how to explain it.
"Where I come from, there is a book… well, books, that tell me about you, about what happens and… I can't tell you any more until I speak with Gandalf, Mithrandir, whatever… or someone else who probably knows what is going on," I answered, stopping rubbing my face. Something felt wet; looking at my hands, I realised one of them was red, covered with blood… Éowyn gasped.
"We should have taken you inside straight away!" she cried, obviously horrified at the sight of the blood. "Quick! Come with me!" Théodred and Éomer signalled for someone to take their horses to the stables, before each taking one of my arms and helping me up the long stairs to the doors.
The doors were thrown wide open as we approached; I took notice of the in-laid floor patterns as I stepped inside the considerably darker hall. There was a throne at the far end of the chamber, but no one sitting on it. As I looked around, I met the gazes of the guards stationed around the walls; they stared at me with wide eyes, not blinking, turning to their companions and whispering. As we reached the middle of the hall, there was a question from one of the dark sides.
"Why have you brought a stranger into the House of the King?" asked a hissing voice; Éowyn stopped abruptly. I could tell from her body language that she definitely didn't like this person…
"It is of no business to the King's advisor what the King's son does…" Théodred growled, glaring in the direction of the voice. King's advisor? I suddenly realised who it was as Grima Wormtongue stepped out of the shadows; he stared at me, indecision on his face.
"But it is my business if a stranger is brought in…" Grima snarled, "After all… How am I to know she will not pose a threat to the King?" Éomer made a sudden movement as if to go and hit him, but Théodred used his free arm to grab Éomer's in front of me. I looked at Théodred's hand and Éomer's arm, noticing how strong they both were; if the men had to be this strong just to survive in this world, how did the women do it? Éomer narrowed his eyes and muttered something, as I quietly examined both of the men, judging whether or not I would be able to escape from their clutches…
"What was that Éomer?" asked a different voice from behind Grima, who - with a horrified expression on his face - quickly turned and bowed low.
"My Lord! I was just telling them-" He started to explain, but the voice cut him off.
"-I was not talking to you Grima…" it growled, and the owner of the voice stepped into the light, "What were you saying Éomer?" Éomer bowed to the person, dispersing my hopes of escaping.
"Nothing, my Lord," he answered, "I just didn't approve of the way Grima was debating the fact that Prince Théodred could bring a dangerous person to see you," I recognised King Théoden of Rohan… Then I realised that I might just be in over my head…
Théoden walked slowly towards the place where Théodred and Éomer were still supporting me. I lowered my head so that my hair hung in front of my face; a long curtain that I could hide both my face and ears behind, just in case he found my earrings or make-up a bit weird. I saw the boots of the King stop just before me; I twitched as a hair got caught in the blood and irritated the cut on my face.
"Who is this?" he asked, "And what is she doing here?"
"We found her at the Fords of Isen, unconscious and injured," Éomer answered, "We brought her here for Éowyn to tend to," Théoden rubbed the bristles on his chin thoughtfully.
"But that does not explain who the woman is…" he said; Théodred looked at his cousin.
"She did not give us a name…" Théodred told his Father.
"But we have our suspicions…" Éomer pointed out quietly.
"And what suspicions are they?" he asked, surprised and obviously wanting an explanation; I looked up.
"Yeah… I'd like to know what they are too!" I exclaimed, tired of people talking about me but not to me. Startled at my sudden outburst, King Théoden looked at my face.
"Elfhild!" he cried.
Théoden POV
As soon as I looked at her face, I knew it. The shape, the eyes, the skin; all were identical to my late wife, Elfhild's. Though the make-up the woman was wearing hid her real features, the eyes, pale skin and long brown hair gave her away.
"Elfhild?" I asked, "Can it be you?" The woman shook her head.
"My name is not Elfhild…" she answered, her eyes paling rapidly to an ice blue, "Though the name sounds familiar…" I tried to calm myself down, tried to think rationally, though the disappointment welling up inside me was fit to burst.
"No, of course not. You cannot be Elfhild; she lies buried outside the city walls…" I sighed, strode over to the end of the hall and sat down upon my throne. I beckoned for Éomer, Théodred, Éowyn and the woman to come forward, and dismissed Grima; Éowyn came first.
"My Lord, she is injured… I need to-" she began; I nodded.
"Go and fetch what you need and bring it back." I told Éowyn, she hurried off. By the look of it, the woman's legs were starting to weaken; it must have been almost 24 hours since she had had something to eat. I signalled a guard to bring some food.
Just as Théodred and Éomer brought the woman before the throne, her legs gave way and she collapsed to the floor and Théodred immediately bent down to help her. Éowyn reappeared with a bowl of hot water and cloths with which to clean the woman's wound; Théodred sat behind her, pulled the woman up and leant her against his chest for support as Éowyn began to soak a cloth in the water. He brushed the woman's hair away from her face, and we could see a long, deep cut running down the side of her face. Éowyn drew her breath sharply, before beginning to clean the cut; the woman grimaced in pain but didn't say anything. I wondered where she came from… I was sure I had seen her before, but where? She couldn't have come from Gondor because she would bear arms, but she didn't carry anything that proved that she came from Rohan either. She didn't have the pointy ears to prove that she was an Elf, and I knew she wasn't a Dwarf for obvious reasons… But she did look exactly like Elfhild, and probably what my young daughter would have looked like, had she lived.
Ah, Iana; it was a terrible day for Rohan when she was taken by the Dark Lord. She was only 6 at the time, travelling with her mother and her friends; the Elf Lady Celebrian and her daughter Silver. Silver was the same age as Iana then, with her mother's exceptionally beautiful hair; the like of which has never yet been discovered in Middle-Earth again … The two girls had gotten on so well for children from different races; neither I nor Silver's father, Lord Elrond, had protested against their friendship, and it did well for Rohan to have allies outside of the human race; especially the Elves.
Théodred had been devastated when we had discovered the tragedy that had befallen our family; he hadn't eaten for days afterwards, which was dangerous for a growing 13 year old boy. Finally, the despair of an 8 year old Éomer and a 5 year old Éowyn brought him back, and he eventually spent most of his time learning to be a warrior. Of course, having trained for 18 years, he was now quite a formidable man to face, in or out of battle. Théodred was 31 now, which would have made Iana 24 I think… Yes, that's right; Éomer is 26, and Éowyn is 23 now…
The guard returned carrying food just then, as Éowyn finished cleaning the woman's cut. I took the tray from the guard and laid it on a small table next to the throne, dismissing the rest of the guards from the hall.
"Now; do you want anything to eat?" I asked the woman quietly once the soldiers had left. She looked at the food, torn between hunger and caution. I smiled, and handed her an apple. She looked at it apprehensively, unsure of whether to eat it or leave it alone, "Go on; it's not poisoned!" I laughed. The woman grinned weakly, her eyes darkening almost to their normal colour; and then bit into the fruit, the sweet juices dribbling down her chin as she tried to catch them. I tossed apples to Théodred and Éomer, who bit into them gratefully. Once all three had finished eating, I leant towards the woman.
"Now, what is your name?" I asked; the woman stared at the floor, either unable or unwilling to tell. I sighed with frustration and stood up, about to start pacing, but she must have thought I was going to do something to her. She immediately got up and backed off hurriedly… But she had evidently forgotten that Théodred sat behind her. The woman fell backwards over him and hit her head on the floor; Théodred scrambled to her side and held it up. I rushed over and knelt by her other side.
"Are you okay?" Théodred asked; the woman looked at me, her eyes lightening to almost white as they slid out of focus.
"I… Iana… my name is Iana…" she gasped, before blacking out…
This part took me while to write; I ended up with writers block halfway through, and it might show in places!
Iana XxX