Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movie are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.
*.*.*.*.*
Chapter 11:
The Land of Horses
*.*.*.*.*
Greatheart's powerful stride quickly brought the city of Edoras into view on the horizon. Cerin's cloak and long auburn locks whipped behind her as they raced across the rolling plains. The loud thumping of Greatheart's hooves crashing against the earth and the roar of the wind were the only sounds that met her ears. Her pale blue eyes remained fixed on the approaching image of the city.
As they reached the foot of the small mountain the city sat atop, Greatheart slowed to a sedate pace. Cerin had never visited the city before, but the widow she had lived with for a year had spoken fondly of the bustling and lively nature of the place. If the great capital had truly been as it was described to her, then that cheer was gone now. After gaining entrance at the city gates, this became more apparent to Cerin. No sounds of conversations or joyful children came on the wind as they once did. The city itself seemed dull and clouded with grief. The atmosphere was so heavy that it felt smothering and oppressive. It was hard to tell that the homes were still inhabited from the lifelessness of the place, even when she spied actual people.
Cerin left Greatheart with a kind stable boy before approaching the beautiful palace of the Horse Lords. She climbed the massive staircase to the main entrance and met the two guards stationed there.
"State your business, my Lady," the shorter guard said in a monotone.
"I am here seeking the hospitality of the Horse Lord, good sirs," she answered politely.
"I am afraid you cannot enter armed as you are, my Lady," the other guard added.
"Understandable, though I am leery to leave my possessions. May I have your word they will be safe?" Cerin asked seriously.
"Aye, Lady, your things will be safe with us, they will. Just policy, you see. No one is allowed inside so armed, by word of Grima Wormtongue," The shorter guard informed, looking as though he was swallowing something foul.
"I see," Cerin muttered.
She unbuckled the belt that carried her sword and pulled her bow and quiver from her shoulders. She tried to hide her reluctance as she handed her weapons over for keeping. Once she was unarmed, to their knowledge, the short guard opened the massive wooden door and motioned her inside.
Cerin entered the large, dimly lit room and immediately noticed the figures at the opposite end. The ornate throne held a withered old man who could barely hold his head aloft. His face bore deep wrinkles and his eyes were glazed with age and confusion. This slumped and weak man was not the Theoden she had heard stories of. Beside him sat a beautiful woman who clasped the King's wrinkled hand in familiarity. She was clothed in a flowing brown gown and her golden hair was left hanging in long waves down her back.
Upon her entrance, both figures looked towards her. The woman's face morphed to polite acknowledgment while Theoden's remained static like a weary statue. Cerin met her with a courteous nod after greeting the tired king who gave only an indecipherable mumble in reply.
"Lady Cerin, I am Lady Eowyn, shield maiden of Rohan and niece to my Lord Theoden. May I ask for the cause for your visit?" Eowyn asked curiously.
"My village was ravaged by a party of orcs and my home is gone. I have nowhere else to go and now seek the renowned hospitality of your Lord," Cerin said falsely, "I hope I am not causing too large of an imposition on your household with my presence?"
"No, there is no imposition, my Lady. You are welcome to stay as long as you need. You are not the first person to tell us such a story. I have heard of such happenings all too often in these past days," Eowyn said with an angry sadness and turned to her uncle, "My Lord, our guest must be hungry and I shall take her to the kitchens for an early supper. Take care, Uncle."
After placing a delicate kiss to her uncle's withered cheek, she turned and guided Cerin from the large entrance Hall and into a dark hallway. After many turns, she pulled Cerin into a room that could only be the kitchens. The room was filled with delicious smells and warmth from the large cooking fire.
Eowyn put together a modest meal for Cerin, which she thanked the shield maiden for before consuming the warm food. Once finished, Eowyn offered to show Cerin to a room she could use for the duration of her stay. They had both made to leave the room when a maid fairly rushed into the kitchen and started at the sight of the Lady.
"My Lady, the Lord's son's condition has turned for the worse! You are needed in his rooms immediately," she intoned urgently.
"I am sorry, my Lady. I must see to my kin," Eowyn said hurriedly to Cerin.
"Lady Eowyn, may I accompany you to see him? I am not a healer but I have some knowledge," Cerin asked in an effort to be helpful.
Eowyn nodded her assent and grabbed her skirts before almost running from the room with Cerin following in her wake. After a few turns, the women arrived at an open door. They entered and Eowyn approached the bed, kneeling beside it. Cerin stopped behind her crouched form and observed the bedridden figure. She noticed that the man was completely still. The fact that he still yet lived could only be discerned from the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The bandages that littered his head and chest were soaked through with blood. He did not have long to live and she could do naught for him with her limited knowledge.
"He is beyond any help I could give him, my Lady," Cerin said gently. Eowyn's only noticeable reaction was a slight hunching of her shoulders, for she had known her cousin was too far gone.
"He is beyond all help. I have tried all possible remedies, but his wounds are too deep," Eowyn said sorrowfully. The shield maiden rose and faced Cerin, "May I confide in you, Lady Cerin? I apologize for laying my burdens on your shoulders, but I feel that I must speak honestly with someone. I can see that you know the ways of battle and for that I see a kindred spirit in you."
"Of course, my Lady. You may speak freely with me."
"I feel that I am alone here even though my uncle still yet breathes. I feel my home is doomed and my people will suffer for it."
"May I be plain with my words as well?" Cerin asked and continued at the woman's nod, "Surely you have beseeched your uncle for aid, for him to see reason?" Cerin asked.
"Times are dark, Lady Cerin. My brother has been banished from the realm, my uncle is frail in heart and mind, and my cousin lies here dying," Eowyn said lowly, her eyes full of sadness.
"My uncle's mind is not his own. Grima Wormtongue poisons his mind with his vile tongue. He does not even know that his son lies here dying! And Wormtongue! He haunts my steps, follows me with his foul gaze. I cannot escape him, just as my uncle cannot escape his poisonous words," Eowyn raged, frustrated and grieving.
"My Lady," Cerin breathed quietly, stepping closer towards the woman, "Your plight pulls at my heart and I feel the need to tell you the true reason for my visit to your home. I have come not just to seek shelter, as I spoke earlier. I bring word that help shall soon arrive in Edoras, but to what end, I cannot say."
Cerin watched as her words calmed the woman slightly and a spark of hope returned to her eyes. Eowyn did not question Cerin's vague explanation, but merely nodded.
"Very well, then let me show you to the room I spoke of and a change of clothes. The ones you have on have seen better days, I think," Eowyn said with a glimpse of a smile. With one last sad glance back towards her cousin, the shield maiden again led Cerin away and this time towards the promised bed.
*.*.*.*.*
Cerin sat gracefully on a wooden stool at Theodred's bedside. Her clean white gown flowed about her feet and the sleeves fell away from her hands. She had told Eowyn that she could do nothing for Theodred, but she had inspected his wounds anyways. His skin had lost all color and infection had obviously taken hold in his wounds. It was only a matter of time before Theodred passed. Behind her, Cerin heard the clunk of the room's door being opened.
"I do not believe we have met," a low voice spoke, dripping in false politeness.
Cerin turned in her seat and spied a man standing near the doorway that could only be Grima Wormtongue. His visage certainly fit his name. His black hair was slick with grease and unkempt. His face, pale and drawn, was twisted in his polite façade and wearing a fake smile. He wore faded black robes that had seen better days. As he approached Cerin, she noticed how similar he looked to a rat on the street.
"No," she said slowly, "We have not met, Sir."
"My Lady, I am Grima Wormtongue, advisor to the King," he intoned, full of false importance.
"My name is Cerin, my Lord," she said with a fake smile and was purposely vague in her answer.
He approached within an arm's reach and took in her appearance with an obvious leer. "What purpose could bring such a beautiful woman to Rohan? Surely you are not a wayward damsel in need?" He stretched out an arm and brushed a lock of hair from her face.
Cerin desperately tried to hide her uneasiness from the man before her. "My home was destroyed by orcs. I came to Edoras for shelter, my Lord. I am assisting Lady Eowyn where I can."
"Well, Lady, surely there must be something that can better hold your interest than our wounded Prince," Grima said lowly and he circled Cerin, trailing his hand down her arm and to her lower back.
"I wish to be here in his time of need and last hours. My apologies, my Lord, but Lady Eowyn is expecting me soon," she gritted, trying to push away from his hold and leave.
"He won't care, will he? He will be dead soon by the looks of him. And the good Lady Eowyn is doing fine by her lonesome. Why, I just saw her in the kitchens," he soothed falsely, pulling Cerin closer to his body. Her rage sparked at his words.
"You would do well to leave the Lady to herself and to unhand me," Cerin warned quietly as he tightened his grip and his hands started to roam.
"No, I am quite enjoying myself, in both respects," he said in his sickly tone.
Just as his hand started tugging at her dress, Cerin shoved the vile man away from her and made for the door. The rat yelled for the guards just as she opened the door. She was grabbed roughly by the guards posted outside the room, her hands pulled sharply to her back and tied. Her struggles did little good as the guard tying her hands yanked her arm upwards in a painful move. Cerin pushed the pain from her mind as low chuckles met her ears. She looked upwards to see Grima standing before her, staring at her with a triumphant gleam.
"Would you like to reconsider?" he asked almost sweetly. Cerin answered by spitting on his robes.
A loud smack resounded in the cramped hallway. Cerin tried to ignore the burning of her cheek as she looked at the power-hungry traitor before her.
"You would do well to obey me, my Lady. Treason is not taken lightly. Take her away," Grima's slick voice ordered.
*.*.*.*.*
The cell was cramped, damp, and dark. The sparse torches did little to light her new accommodations. She had no method to track the passage of time for there were no windows in her underground prison. She was given a bucket, straw masquerading as a mattress, and a blanket that had more holes than fabric. The guards outside the cells were lacking for company and manners. The cell was constantly cold and her scrap of a blanket did little to warm her. She slept fitfully and often. She received one meal per day that did little to stifle her hunger. Cerin could do little more than wait for Gandalf to arrive and worry about Wormtongue returning.
Time moved slowly for her but many days must have passed. Her face still hurt and was sure to be purple still. Grima had visited her once more during her stay and gifted her with several cuts and more bruises at her continued refusal to bow to his desires. Her worst injury was a deep scrape on her left arm. She got it after refusing Grima with a blow to his jaw and him then shoving her into the sharp edge of the metal door handle. The blood had finally crusted over after what seemed like too long of a time. Her once white sleeve was sure to be blood red now and the rest of the dress covered in dirt. After their scuffle where she managed to land a few painful blows of her own, her hands were now always bound and the rope was rubbing her wrists raw. There was no telling how long she would be stuck as she was. She couldn't try to escape until the guards near her were unsuspecting. She feared for Eowyn more than ever. Having been denied, Grima would most likely seek out the woman. Cerin could only hope that Eowyn would remain unharmed.
Some great time later, the sounds of a commotion filtered into Cerin's cell. A call went up and the guards outside her cell took off running. Cerin could only hope that it meant Gandalf had finally arrived. Standing now, she studied the door to her cell. Cerin had no weapon on her or anything to pick the lock with, so she did the only thing left for her to try. With a great shove, she threw her body against the door. It gave a great bang, but the solid wood door did not give.
"Not my best idea," she murmured to herself, feeling the throbbing pain in her shoulder.
After two more tries, the door still refused to give and Cerin conceded defeat. She had exhausted her only hope to escape and now she could only wait for help. With a pained sigh, she sat back and waited.
*.*.*.*.*
"I cannot allow you before Theoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame, by order of Grima Wormtongue," The shorter guard, Hama, announced to them.
Aragorn spied Gandalf's permissive nod and began disarming. Legolas, Gimli, and Gandalf did the same. Legolas made a show of removing his knives and his bow, while Gimli handed one of the guards behind Gamling his axe, sharp edge first.
"I would like this back in the same condition as I have given it to you," Aragorn said seriously to Hama as he handed the man his prized sword.
Hama nodded and turned to Gandalf, "Your staff, Sir."
"Oh, you would not part an old man from his walking stick, surely?" Gandalf asked pitifully of the man. A complete play on his appearance, Aragorn figured. The wizard even went so far as to take Legolas' arm for support.
Hama did not look satisfied, but made no further comment. They were then motioned to enter the Hall. The doors slammed shut behind them, the group of guards fanning out into the room. Aragorn spied two figures at the end of the Hall. The slouched, decrepit figure on the throne could only by Theoden. The other man leaned over the throne's arm to whisper into Theoden's ear.
"The courtesy of your Hall has somewhat lessened as of late, Theoden King," Gandalf announced, still approaching the throne but now walking unassisted.
"He is not welcome," Grima ordered Theoden.
"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" Theoden's small voice called.
"A just question, my King," Grima prompted, moving to stand before Gandalf, "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Ill news is an ill guest."
"Silence, snake! I did not pass through fire and death to exchange words with this vile pest!" Gandalf insulted, raising his staff from below his cloak.
Grima's eyes widened at the sight of the staff and he began backing away, "The staff, I told you to take the staff!"
The room fell into chaos. The guards at the outskirts of the room moved forth to apprehend them while Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli held them off. In a few moves, they were all floored. Gimli knocked Grima to the floor with a backwards swing of his large arm, and stood watch over the cowering man.
Gandalf moved towards the throne, "Theoden, too long have you sat in the shadows, my friend. Hearken to me! I release you!" A strange wind blew through the Hall at Gandalf's words. Everyone stood motionless, watching the happenings.
Theoden moved from his slumped position and let loose a dark, amused chuckle, "You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey."
Gandalf did not look amused. He grasped his grey cloak and whipped it away, revealing his sparkling white robes beneath. His very form radiated a white power, pinning Theoden to his throne.
"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound."
"If I go, Theoden dies!" a darker voice proclaimed from Theoden's lips.
"You did not kill me, you will not kill him!" Gandalf yelled.
"Rohan is mine!" Saruman's voice yelled strongly from Theoden's weak body.
Gandalf thrust his staff forward, pushing his power towards the possessed king. With a great gasp, Theoden slumped forward. The Hall was silent, watching. Slowly, the withered face of the King became taught, the wrinkles now that of a middle-aged man. The grey, thinned hair became thick and golden. His body straightened and his eyes came to life.
A woman raced past all those gathered and knelt at Theoden's side. Her hand rose and cupped his cheek softly. Theoden gazed at her with a growing recognition and fondness.
"I know your face," the King whispered, "Eowyn, I have missed you, my child." He slowly stood and looked out at Gandalf.
"Breathe the free air again, my friend," Gandalf said gladly.
"Dark have been my dreams of late," Theoden commented.
"Your fingers would better remember their strength if they grasped your sword," Gandalf chimed.
Gamling strode forth and presented the ruler with his sword. Theoden looked at the weapon with wonder and purpose. His face filled with rage and his eyes roamed the room looking for Grima's unmistakable form. He spied the coward crawling away from the dwarf and towards a side hallway. Theoden began moving towards the fiend with dark intent written on his face. Behind him, Eowyn gasped and ran from the room as quickly as she had entered.
*.*.*.*.*
As the noise quieted, Cerin feared the guards would soon return. Suddenly, Cerin heard rushed footsteps and she startled when her cell door was yanked open. Eowyn stood before her, backlit by the torches and breathing hard.
"Oh, Lady Cerin! My uncle has been saved just as you said! Come, we must get you out of this place," Eowyn said excitedly while moving to gently lift the injured woman from the ground. Eowyn untied Cerin's bonds and pulled her out of the cell.
"You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Lady Eowyn," Cerin said gratefully as they walked slowly from the dungeons, "Though I must look a fright."
Eowyn merely grimaced at her dirty and bloodied appearance, "We will get you clean and mended soon enough."
They soon passed from the hallway into the great meeting Hall. Cerin immediately focused on the enraged King of Rohan yelling at the snake Grima as he cowered in the hold of two guards.
Incensed, Cerin shook off Eowyn's helping hand and marched across the room ignoring everything around her. She walked right past the enraged King, muttering an "Excuse me, my Lord," before swiftly swinging her right arm in a graceful arc and powerfully punching the coward across the face. Grima's face made a strange, loud crunch and whipped around. Crying out, his body staggered backwards in the guards' hold and somehow remained upright. Cerin relished the look of complete fear on his face, remembering her own fear as he touched her. The guards made no move to reprimand her and simply tightened their hold on Grima with a grim satisfaction in their tense expressions. Cerin moved her face close to his, ignoring the blood dripping steadily from his nose.
"You will regret your actions against me and the people of Rohan, vermin," she spat hatefully as Grima cringed backwards and whined pitifully in pain.
"Lady Cerin!"
The sound of her name broke her intense focus and made her aware of the others present. Her fiery glare died as she turned to see who had spoken and stepped away from the disgusting man.
*.*.*.*.*
Aragorn had watched as Theoden searched the room for who could only have been Grima Wormtongue. Having spied him across the room trying to escape through the side hall, Aragorn started moving for the man. Quickly, guards seized him before Aragorn had moved very far. Grima struggled for a very short time in their grip. As Theoden approached the traitor, the worm immediately started spouting words to pacify the enraged ruler. Aragorn watched as Theoden physically restrained himself from harming the creature in front of him and settled on berating him for his crimes. It was in the middle of his tirade that everyone froze in surprise as a vision of beauty and rage stormed past Theoden. The woman's dirty gown and long brown hair flowed behind her as though it were caught in a breeze. She mumbled little more than a by your leave before striking Grima across the face in a powerful punch. The room's occupants watched as she physically assaulted the stunned coward and moved closer to his slumped form.
"You will regret your actions against me and the people of Rohan, vermin," she gritted out hatefully.
"Lady Cerin!" Eowyn yelled in shock, running for the woman.
The spell was broken and the room seemed to overcome their surprise. Aragorn now realized that this vengeful woman was Cerin. He watched as her head turned in the shield maiden's direction, revealing a large purple bruise across her cheek and her bloody sleeve.
*.*.*.*.*
"Lady Cerin, what has gotten into you?" Eowyn gasped, shocked as she moved next to the scout.
"Eowyn, who is this woman?" Theoden's voice rang out through the Hall.
Cerin turned towards the King and answered for the shield maiden. "I am Cerin, my Lord. I served as a scout for Lord Elrond of the Last Homely House. I apologize for my actions in your home. I merely wished to repay him in kind," she said apologetically and gestured to her face and bloodied sleeve.
"Uncle, forgive her. She has been in the dungeons for nigh on seven days because of him," Eowyn pleaded.
Her words seemed to enrage the King even more, "Hama," Theoden called, "Get rid of this traitor."
It was at this moment that Cerin fully took in the occupants of the room. She was not surprised to spot Gandalf standing to the side of the room, but she was shocked to spy Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas standing next to the wizard. As she looked them over, she caught their surprised and concerned gazes lingering on her form. She forcibly tore her eyes from them and turned to face Eowyn and the King as they made for the door.
Cerin followed at the rear of the group as Hama and another soldier bodily dragged Wormtongue out of the Hall and tossed him down the long staircase. She watched in dark satisfaction as he fell end over end to the bottom. Villagers gathered to watch the spectacle.
"Please, my Liege, I have only ever served you!" Wormtongue groveled, slowly crawling backwards from the approaching form of Theoden.
"You would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!"
"Please, send me not from your sight, my Lord!"
Theoden swung the sword above his head ready to bring it into a downward thrust when Aragorn rushed forward, gripping the King's arm and stopping his action.
"No, my Lord, there has been enough blood already spilled," the Ranger urged.
Grima took this moment of hesitation to stagger to his feet and push his way through the crowd. There was a moment of silence from all gathered before everyone took a knee, bowing to the restored King.
"All hail Theoden King!" cried all.
Cerin stood as everyone filed past her back inside and watched the shrinking figure of Wormtongue on horseback as he ventured out onto the plains. She could not shake the feeling that Aragorn's actions would haunt them. Finally, she turned and entered the Hall.
Eowyn stood near her uncle and Gandalf. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli took seats at one of the tables that littered the Hall. Cerin ignored them and their probing, curious looks and continued towards the King.
"Now, what is this news of you staying in the dungeons, my Lady?" Theoden asked, concerned.
"I was accused of treason, my Lord," Cerin stated simply, vaguely registering the lack of conversation from the tables.
"Treason? What was the cause for the charge?" he asked with slight suspicion and a wrinkled brow.
"I refused to bed the scum that is Wormtongue and advised him away from Lady Eowyn and insulting your son. In his mind, that was a capital offense," Cerin explained and watched as the man frowned deeply.
"Then I must apologize for your current state and for it occurring in my home," Theoden said sincerely.
"It is of no consequence, my Lord. I will heal and my dress can be mended, so please do not fret," she said to the ruler.
"Good, you are free to stay as long as need be. Rest and heal, my girl," Theoden spoke, then asked of the room at large, "Now, where is my son?"
Cerin did not know the fate of Theodred because of her imprisonment, but she could tell by how Eowyn's face fell into deep sadness that he had finally succumbed. She watched sadly as Eowyn approached the man and quietly told him the fate of his son. His face fell in grief and he paced from the room in silence.
After a few moments of quiet, Cerin spoke to Eowyn, "Lady Eowyn, if you would be so kind as to show me to the healers, I would like to tend to my injuries and prepare to leave on the morrow."
"Cerin – may I call you such? – I would be glad to show you to the healer's, but I would ask that you stay until after my cousin has been laid to rest," Eowyn lightly grabbed Cerin's hand in a friendly manner, "I must admit that I have found a friend in you and I would much appreciate you staying in Edoras during this hard time."
Cerin placed the hand of her injured arm atop Eowyn's, "I too have enjoyed your company, Eowyn. I will stay a little longer, my friend."
Turning to the Wizard across the room who was watching her with a patient gaze, "If you would not mind, Gandalf, may we speak after I have been to see the healer?"
"Do what you must, child," Gandalf waved her away.
Cerin started to follow Eowyn from the Hall when Gimli's voice suddenly reached her.
"What's this about the dungeons, Lass?" Gimli asked loudly from his seat. Cerin paused in her stride but did not turn to face him or answer his question.
"Lass, answer me!" When she didn't respond and started forward again, he shouted, "Are you ignorin' me, girl?"
*.*.*.*.*
The funeral for Theodred was long and heart-wrenching. Cerin could not bring herself to participate in the ceremony, for she had attended too many gatherings of this nature to suffer another one. From a distance, she watched as the long procession filed from the city gates to the burial grounds with Theodred's body being carried at the fore. She watched as the tomb was sealed and words were said in remembrance. She listened in sadness and remembrance of her own pain as Eowyn's haunting song floated on the wind. The people of Edoras drifted away one by one, until it was only her, Gandalf, and Theoden who remained. She could not hear the men's conversation from her place above them, but still she lingered.
Cerin's clean dress rippled about her feet as she stood looking out at the plains of Rohan. The solitude was comforting to her. Her mind and body calmed. She could escape the din of the enlivened city, her need to avoid the Fellowship, and her worries for why there were so few of her former companions present. Her thoughts returned to the present at Gandalf's call. In the distance, she spied an approaching horse and what could only be children atop it. One small being fell from the animal's back as she watched, which spurred her into motion. Cerin ran the distance to the horse, making soothing noises when it began to spook. The small girl still in the saddle patted it tiredly in reassurance.
"Do not worry. You are safe, child," Cerin soothed the young lad as she lifted him from the ground back into the saddle. He was too weary to hold himself upright, so Cerin mounted behind him and slowly motioned the horse towards the approaching wizard and King.
"They badly need food and rest. I will take them to Eowyn," Cerin said once she reached the concerned men and continued into the city.
She left the horse at the stable and somehow carried both exhausted children into the Hall. She sat them at a table near the center of the room, ignoring the stares of the fellowship as she had ignored them until that point. Cerin called for some of the prepared stew to be brought over. She helped the boy sip the broth and cradled the young girl when she started asking for her mother. The boy remained silent the whole time and stared into his bowl. Eowyn arrived after a short time and they shared a look over the state of the children. Cerin looked on as Theoden and Gandalf entered and inquired about the children.
"The rumors are true then. Saruman has turned the Wildsmen to his crooked ways. Now they move through the Westfold burning as they go," Cerin spoke up, all eyes turning towards her.
"Rick, cot, and tree," Eowyn swore.
"This is but a small taste of Saruman's power. You must ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight," Gandalf implored Theoden.
"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Eomer remains loyal to you. He and his men will return and fight for their King," Aragorn spoke seriously.
"They must be three hundred leagues away by now! Eomer cannot help us now," Theoden said hopelessly, "I know what it is you want me to do, Gandalf, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."
"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not," Aragorn added. A large belch escaped Gimli then, though it was ignored for the tense conversation.
"When last I checked, Theoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan," Theoden said with anger.
"Then what is the King's decision?" Cerin asked quietly.
"We make for Helm's Deep."
*.*.*.*.*
TBC
