As they wandered deeper into the forest, Ireth noticed something different about this forest than the others. She packed her wonderings away for later exploration when they had the time.
Gimli spit, grunting with displeasure, "Orc blood!"
Ireth looked at him in horror, "Gimli, that's disgusting."
They continued through the forest, Ireth looking around in wonder. It certainly wasn't anything like Lothlórien, but it had its own beauty and charm to it. There were many small brooks that they had to jump across—well, Gimli had to—and the trees twisted in such ways that made Ireth itch to climb up them. Moss and lichens grew everywhere, giving the forest a greener glow as the sun filtered in from the canopy.
"The air is so close in here." Gimli commented.
"This forest is old," Legolas spoke, looking at their surroundings. "Very Old…full of memory…and anger."
Ireth looked at him curiously, wondering for a fraction of a moment how he knew that, but quickly started looking around at the sudden sound of groaning.
"The trees are speaking to each other." Legolas spoke, a strange look on his face. The groining suddenly became louder and Ireth covered her ears, not enjoying the sound the trees made. When Aragorn turned around, making a lowering motion, she followed his gaze to Gimli, who had his axe raised ready to attack if need be.
"Gimli, lower your axe!"
The moment he did, the groaning lessened, becoming a much more pleasant sound. She lowered her hands from her ears, and followed Legolas as he and Aragorn continued forward. They'd made it two feet, when she visibly saw Legolas stiffen before quickly moving forward calling to Aragorn and speaking in elvish. She moved to follow, but nearly ran into Legolas as he stopped and turned to her.
"Stay here."
She made to protest, but stopped when he gave her a pleading look. He moved quickly forward, speaking in a low tone to Aragorn. Hiding behind a tree, she watched as they drew weapons, prepared to strike at a moment's notice. A light shined brighter than Ireth had ever seen and she averted her eyes, hoping to salvage her eyesight.
"You are tracking the steps of two young hobbits…" A strange voice spoke from the light. There was something about it that caught Ireth's attention. She squinted at the light, trying to see who it was.
"Where are they?" Aragorn spoke.
"They passed this way the day before yesterday," There was a pause, "They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"
"Who are you?"
As the figure moved forward, the bright light seemed to all but disappear, revealing this strange person. Ireth stared wide-eyed at a man who looked an awful lot like Gandalf. She was rooted to the spot, clenching the rough bark of the tree in front of her.
"It cannot be," She heard Aragorn whisper. "You fell."
"Through fire…and water," Gandalf said, continuing on how he fought the Balrog and how he had died and come back. "I felt life in me once again."
"Gandalf…" Ireth spoke finally, stepping forward from behind her tree.
He looked at her quizzically, "Gandalf? Yes, that is what they used to call me." He smiled, "Gandalf the Gray. Yes, that was my name. I am Gandalf the White. And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide."
Ireth rushed forward wrapping the old man in a tight hug. "Gandalf!"
He seemed surprised at first, but quickly hugged her back, and looked to Aragorn. "One stage of your journey is over, another begins!"
Ireth released the wizard, grinning widely with joy. He's alive! She was practically giddy with excitement, any subconscious guilt over not being able to save him gone. He was here! And she was glad of it. She trailed behind Aragorn and Legolas, feeling more than just happiness.
"War has come to Rohan; we must ride to Edoras with all speed." As they broke the tree line, Gandalf whistled an intricate pattern that had Ireth looking at Gandalf with awe. She went to Hasufel and Arod, patting both horses, when she heard the pounding of hooves on the ground. She turned in time to see a gorgeous white stallion canter up to Gandalf.
"That is one of the Maeras; lest my eyes be cheated by some spell?" Legolas spoke with awe in his voice as he gazed at the approaching steed.
"Shadowfax; he is the lord of all horses," Gandalf said, gently stroking the horses neck, "and has been my friend through many dangers."
He mounted the great horse, and waited for the others to mount. Ireth made to mount after Aragorn on Hasufel, yelping in surprise when Arod forced his head in between her body and the saddle. After that, he refused to allow Gimli to mount him, side stepping the dwarf as he approached while keeping his head on Ireth's shoulder. As amusing as the scene was, they needed to hurry, and so, Gimli rode behind Aragorn on Hasufel and Ireth, much to her embarrassment, rode behind Legolas on a content Arod.
"Hold on tight," Legolas spoke over his shoulder to her. She nodded, clenching the fabric in her grip at his sides, much as she did with Aragorn. They took off quickly, much faster than Ireth was expecting, and with a low yelp, wrapped her arms quickly around Legolas midsection to keep herself from bouncing off. She didn't see the amused look of Gandalf, nor the conspirator glances of Aragorn and Gimli as they rode beside them. Much to everyone's amusement, Legolas face was expressionless, but Aragorn wasn't fooled. He could see the very faint pink at the tip of the Ellons' ears.
They rode quickly over the land, and the longer they rode the more Ireth got used to the gait of Arod. She loosened her grip as Edoras came into view on the horizon, once again gripping the fabric at Legolas side. As they came closer, Ireth saw how massive their destination truly was. She was in awe of it. It was nothing like Lothlórien, but it was human made and still fantastic to see. It emanated a rustic charm that had her becoming fond of the place on sight.
Before they had rode through the outer walls of the city, Gandalf had spoken of how the King of Rohan was being controlled by Saruman. "Be careful what you say, do not look for welcome here."
His words echoed in her head as they dismounted, climbing the large steps to the Golden Hall of Meduseld. As they approached, the doors swung open, and several soldiers walked out. Some of the men eyed her warily, as she returned the favor and took the slightest step closer to Aragorn, much to his amusement. Her attention then turned to a helmetless soldier who began to speak.
"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Grayhame," a look of annoyance crossed his face, "by order of Grima Wormtongue."
Ireth wrinkled her nose. Grima Wormtongue? She wondered if he looked as…strange…as his name sounded. With the bob of his head, Gandalf motioned for them to do as the soldier asked. The men looked more than a little surprised when Ireth pulled two knives from her belt—including Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn—and her large blade from her back. Her eyes narrowed at the man who took her weapons, his gaze showing awe. "I will be getting those back."
If it hadn't been for her good hearing, she wouldn't have heard the man swallow thickly before mumbling an "of course" and disappearing with her weapons. This gained a chuckle from the dwarf. Ireth looked to Gandalf, as the head soldier mentioned his staff.
"Oh you would not part an old man from his walking stick?"
The man rolled his eyes, turning to lead them into the hall. Gandalf winked at Aragorn, allowing Legolas to help him walk in. Ireth smirked to herself, allowing Aragorn to herd her in front of him.
"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late Théoden, King." Gandalf called to a man sitting in brown furs on a dais at the end of the hall. Ireth's nose crinkled as her gaze drifted over the old man. He looked ancient, with wrinkles on his wrinkles and actual whiskers in his beard. His skin was yellowing in certain places and overall he just looked washed out and worn. Movement caught her eye, and her gaze slid down to a man sitting beside him. She kept her face neutral, even if the man was appalling. His hair was limp and greasy, as if he hadn't bathed in days; his skin was so pale she wondered if he'd ever seen sunlight, or know what it is for that matter. His eyes seem sunken in to his face and rimmed with red—he reminded her of someone who did drugs in her old world. And he lacked eyebrows.
His eyes trained on her, much to her dismay, and she wasn't all too fond of it. His gaze went back to Théoden as he spoke in a most heartbreakingly cracked and withered voice, "Why should I welcome you, Gandalf…Storm…crow?"
He looked to the creepy guy for approval. "A just question, my liege."
We approached closer to the throne, Ireth noting the men who followed them at the side of the Hall. Her body was tense for action, remembering all the different techniques and practices. Her attention returned to the creepy man in black robes. She frowned, he just looks evil.
"Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear," as he spoke, he approached them, his gaze sliding to Ireth several times before going back to Gandalf. Unnerved, Ireth moved so that she was standing behind the White Wizard and out of the man's sight. "Lathspell I name him; ill news is an ill guest."
"Be silent," Gandalf snapped at the man. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth! I did not pass through fire and death to bandy words with a witless worm."
Ireth mentally applauded Gandalf as he presented his staff to the slimy man. He backed away with fear creeping into his eyes, "His staff! I told you to take the wizard's staff!"
As Gandalf continued forward, the rough looking men who'd stalked them to this point rushed forward to attack them. Much to Ireth's annoyance, they didn't seem to find her a threat, blowing passed her to reach Gimli Aragorn and Legolas. She stuck her foot out as one rushed passed, sending him face first into the floor. She was a little surprised he didn't get back up after that, and stepped over him. That seemed to catch the other men's attention and one went after her from behind. She stiffened when she felt the knife at her throat.
"Not so fast."
Aragorn Gimli and Legolas looked to Ireth, anger boiling in their eyes. Ireth blinked at them with surprise written on her face.
"Unhand her!" Legolas spoke low, but everyone in the room could hear him, and the anger he radiated. The man who held a knife to Ireth's throat stepped closer behind her, grabbing her arm. His finger's trailed like a caress on her arm. Ireth stiffened.
Aragorn saw the indignant look flash across Ireth's face before she moved. She took the hand holding the knife pressing her finger into the joint with as much force as possible, dislocating the bone with a disturbingly cheery pop. Before the man could even comprehend the pain, she turned around and sent her fist as hard as she could into his face. She felt something break.
Everyone stared at her with their jaws slack. Ireth replaced the indignant look with an innocent one before planting herself between Legolas and Aragorn. They were both giving her questioning looks, though Aragorn was more with amusement.
"What? I told you I knew how to fight without a weapon."
Aragorn chuckled, squeezing her shoulder. "That you did."
They turned their attention to Gandalf. He was currently being laughed at by a senile King. "You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!"
With that said, Gandalf threw the gray cloak from his shoulders, revealing his bright white robes. The old King was sent back into his chair. Ireth felt the atmosphere grow powerful as Gandalf cast away the influence of Saruman. Finally, with one last force of power, King Théoden was released with a gasp from Saruman's influence. He fell forward, and a girl Ireth had never noticed before raced forward and caught him.
Ireth watched amazed as the old king quickly regained color in his face, the wrinkles lessoning and the white whiskers disappearing to reveal a middle-aged man with golden-red hair. He looked around the hall as if he were suddenly seeing. His gaze trained to the girl, "I know your face…Éowyn."
The king looked to Gandalf. "Gandalf?"
"Breathe the free air again, my friend." He spoke.
The King stood from his throne, "Dark have been my dreams of late."
The king looked to his hands as they trembled slightly. As one of the soldiers came forward, carrying a sword, Gandalf smiled slightly, "Your fingers would remember their old strength better…if they were to grasp your sword."
After hefting the sword up, King Théoden looked to Grima, a fierce look in his eyes. The men followed as Grima was ushered by two Captains out of the Hall. Ireth remained behind, not wishing to witness what would happen to him—even if he may deserve it. She made to look for her weapons only to be stopped by a hand. Ireth was a little surprised to see the worried expression of Legolas looking down at her. She tilted her head in curiosity, wondering partly if he was still angry with her for following after them.
"Are you alright?"
She smiled at him, "Indeed I am."
This didn't seem to satisfy him. He watched her a moment longer than she felt necessary but none the less returned his stare. "Be more careful."
She made an 'hmph' sound, "You be careful."
Ireth turned away from him and all but ran out of the Hall. She nearly ran into the girl she saw early…Éowyn.
"Oh! I do apologize!" She said, as they both held onto each other to keep themselves from falling over.
"No, no!" Ireth said, "It's my fault, I was not paying attention!"
After a very unique meeting, the two girls conversed, becoming fast friends, until the King re-entered the Hall, asking for his son. Ireth saw the sorrow grow in Éowyn's eyes and knew that the King lost his son. She placed a comforting hand on her new friends back.
They held a funeral for Theodred, the King's son, later that day. Ireth felt out of place, standing in a borrowed mourning dress. She did not know this person and felt as if it were impolite to have a stranger attend it. However, Ireth was also glad she attended, as she held Éowyn hand and rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her sorrow. She was a few years younger than her at 16, but for some reason, Ireth felt an infinite amount of years older when she was with her. It was strange and boggled her mind, because she knew for a fact she were only four years older than the girl.
After people began to trickle away, Ireth followed Éowyn back to Meduseld. Ireth sort of envied the girl, she dealt with the loss of her family member bravely and strongly. She wished that she had done the same with her own loss. After a time, the King and Gandalf finally entered the hall, accompanied by two weary looking children. Éowyn, sensing something amiss, quickly guided the children to a table where she quickly prepared food for them as they told the King their story.
"They had no warning!" Éowyn told the king, wrapping a blanket around the young girl's shoulders. She asked for her mother, but Éowyn shushed her, encouraging her to eat. Ireth sat beside Aragorn, nibbling on a piece of Lembas, as her gaze went from Gandalf to the King. The wizard sat where Grima once did, advising the King on the wisest action to take.
"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak," Aragorn told the king. "Eomer is loyal to you."
The King scoffed, "They are three hundred leagues away by now. I will not risk open war."
"Open war is upon you whether you would risk it or not."
The King narrowed his eyes at Aragorn, "When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan."
Ireth frowned at the king, thinking that a little rude of him, but Aragorn ignored it as Gandalf eased the tension.
"Then what is the King's decision?"
