The Rohan Pride Trilogy
Epilogue: Recovery
Book One
By: WhiteLadyOfTroy
Summary:
The War of the Ring is over, and it is time for Gúthwyn to return home with the children. Yet things are not as they used to be, and many changes are in store for her, whether she would welcome them or not.
About the Epilogue:
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. That was divided into three books, the first book explaining how Gúthwyn got to where The Fellowship of the Ring started. Recovery will be divided into two books.
About Chapter Fourteen:
The upcoming events are based off of what I have learned from the appendices and various sources concerning the aftermath of the War of the Ring. I wish more was known, but unfortunately, it is not—thus, I have had to do much guesswork and fill in my own beliefs about what happened. Please bear with me.
Chapter Fourteen
"Here, allow me," Legolas said as Gúthwyn made to sit down. With perfect grace and elegance, he pulled out the chair for her. Clutching her hands tightly so that they would not tremble, Gúthwyn lowered herself stiffly into the seat, and tried not to wince as he pushed it back towards the table.
"Thank you," she replied as he walked around the table to where his own chair had been placed across from hers. They were sitting on either side of Éomer, who as usual was presiding over the table at its head. Mercifully, Legolas was the only Elf so close to Gúthwyn: Beside her was Gamling, and across from him Erkenbrand; next to him was Tun, and then the children were on a small bench between her champion and Cobryn.
All around them, the servants were bringing out the food that had been prepared for tonight's feast. Tomorrow would be the one all the people in Rohan were invited to attend, as Éomer did not wish to overwhelm his guests with a large party on their first night in the Golden Hall.
"Tell me, Legolas, how go things in Mirkwood?" Éomer inquired. "I confess myself unaware of much that occurs in Elvish lands."
As he spoke, Gúthwyn took a piece of bread from the plate in front of her, and briefly contemplated trying some of the potatoes before deciding against it.
"As a matter of fact," Legolas said with a smile, "it is no longer called Mirkwood. The realm of my father is now known as Eryn Lasgalen, 'wood of green leaves.' For the shadow that long haunted our forests has been dispersed, and our people need not fear it as they used to."
"That is good tidings, then," Éomer replied, inclining his head. "And I trust your father is well?"
"Yes," Legolas answered, "for which I am glad. The woods are slowly being replenished from the Enemy's assault, and the forest is more wholesome. We have more causes now to celebrate than before. Our people are happy, and that is of utmost importance to him."
Gúthwyn took a small spoonful of the stew and put it on her plate. As Legolas and Éomer carried out their conversation, she surreptitiously spread it around the plate, eating as little of it as was required to not raise suspicion.
"Your realm seems prosperous, my friend," Legolas said then. "You have done much work, I deem."
"Aye," Éomer acknowledged, "though it was well worth it. Admittedly, this one of the few full months I have spent in the city, for I have often been away on campaigns with King Elessar. Gúthwyn has ruled the people in my stead."
Legolas looked at her, and she determinedly kept her face rid of nervousness. "You must have done a wonderful job," he complimented her.
Gúthwyn flushed, knowing that she deserved hardly any of the credit. "The greater honor goes to Éomer's advisors, who somehow managed to endure my ignorance and lack of experience at anything regarding politics."
Next to her, Gamling almost choked on his bread. When he at last recovered, he said to her, "Nay, my lady, it was a pleasure to endure your ignorance. It made the meetings far more entertaining."
She laughed. "I am glad to be of service, then!"
"Indeed," Erkenbrand added, his eyes sparkling with delight, "I shall not soon recall without a smile the time you suggested that we abandon the council because it was a nice day out!"
The men around them chortled in amusement, and the corners of Legolas' lips twitched into a faint grin. Even Éomer could not help but laugh. "Sister, I am afraid you were never one for politics," he said. "Yet one would have to search far to find another more willing to serve the people."
"That is always a good thing," Legolas said, nodding at her. She flushed under his gaze, and picked at a tiny piece of bread.
For a time, the conversation turned to light banter, which Gúthwyn was all too happy to focus on. She bore the brunt of several jokes, most of them centered on her mishaps in the council chambers. This she did not mind, as it took her awareness off of the fact that Legolas was sitting directly across from her.
"It was not my fault!" she protested with a giggle as Cobryn finished wrapping up a tale of how she had slept past three one afternoon and had stumbled into the meeting with only a robe over her nightgown. "I was tired!"
"Somehow the rest of us managed to come fully dressed," Cobryn smirked.
"We all have our shortcomings," she retorted, grinning. "Shall we discuss someone else's?"
"Aye, Tun," Gamling said then, raising his eyebrows at the younger guard. "Speaking of shortcomings, has your technique deteriorated that much since I last sparred you? I do believe I am not exaggerating when I say that you lost all ten matches today, whereas normally you give me a challenge."
Beside the captain, Elfhelm snorted. "That is all to easy to explain," he replied, and glanced at Gúthwyn. "With all due respect, my lady, your presence seems to distract your champion."
Several of the men exchanged strange smiles that Gúthwyn could not decipher the meaning of. She nevertheless attempted to make amends. "I am sorry, Tun," she said, smiling at her friend. His cheeks were tinged a light pink. "I certainly did not intend to."
"You need not apologize, my lady," Tun answered swiftly.
"So, Legolas," Éomer said abruptly, halting the current chatter, "you have told us about your kingdom and your father. What about yourself?"
"There is not much to say," Legolas admitted. "I have spent much time preparing the colony, and that is where my energies have lain for several months. On top of that, my father is beginning to broach the subject of marriage."
Gúthwyn's eyes widened. "Have you found a wife yet?" she asked, somehow unable to picture him marrying. Her hand twitched, and she moved it under the table.
Legolas shook his head. "I must say, I have not given the topic much thought," he responded. "My father only wants what is best for me, but I have decided to wait until things settle in Ithilien before considering his words."
"You have many years ahead of you," Éomer answered with a smile. "Should you delay until I am gone, good luck and congratulations."
"I do not think I will wait that long," Legolas said quietly. "But as of now, it is of little importance. Shall I inquire, friend, if you have found a suitable queen yet?"
Gúthwyn and Éomer looked at each other. She did not doubt that they were both picturing Lothíriel.
"Well," Éomer began at length, taking a long drain of his mug, "there have been hesitant negotiations. I will say no more until the matter is resolved."
"Then I shall not press you," Legolas said, though his eyes went back and forth between the king and his sister.
In an effort to navigate the conversation into safer waters, Éomer asked, "Have you yet seen all of my city?"
"I confess I have not," Legolas answered. "A shame, though I have only spent a week or two in Rohan altogether."
"Then we must change that," Éomer said immediately, and turned to Gúthwyn. "Sister, I have several meetings tomorrow, but do you think you might give our guest a tour of Edoras?"
Gúthwyn's heart froze, and as Legolas' slightly widened eyes fixed on her, she almost felt as if she would start trembling from fear.
"That is not necessary, really," Legolas said quickly, seeing her panicked expression.
"No, I insist you do not go without someone who knows their way around," Éomer replied, oblivious to Gúthwyn's mood. "My sister is perfect for that; she also is acquainted with nearly all the people. What say you, Gúthwyn?"
"I-I…" Éomund's daughter trailed off, swallowed hard, and continued weakly, "Of course I will. Th-Though it will have to be in the afternoon."
"Are you sure?" Legolas asked concernedly, lowering his voice. "I do not want to impose."
"N-No, I will be fine," Gúthwyn said hastily, and then quickly changed the subject. "Brother, did I tell you that I got a letter from Éowyn today?"
"No," Éomer said, and leaned closer. "How is she? Do things with Faramir go well?"
"She and Faramir are both happy," Gúthwyn reported, ignoring the twinge in her stomach at the thought of the man who had killed Borogor. "They recently visited Minas Tirith, where they were well received by Lord Aragorn. Éowyn said she was glad to see the Houses of Healing again, and learned some more about various herbs and medicines."
Ever since she had married Faramir, Éowyn had begun studying the ways of the healer, much to Gúthwyn and Éomer's bewilderment. Yet it pleased the White Lady, and they would not think for the briefest second of marring her delight.
"Herbs and medicines," Éomer muttered, shaking his head. "To think that this is the sister who took so much delight in triumphing over me in a sparring match! Ah, well. I am glad to hear that she and Faramir are fine."
"Do you think she might return home soon?" Gúthwyn asked hopefully. She missed Éowyn, having not seen her for over a year.
"I wrote to her recently and extended an invitation for whenever she chose to accept it," Éomer replied. "Though from what I hear, she is quite content in Emyn Arnen."
Gúthwyn picked at her bread some more.
"Gúthwyn," Legolas began then, and she started. "Have you been able to take much time for yourself in the past year?"
Flustered, she said, "Oh, yes. I have been training with the men whenever I can, and I am teaching Haiweth how to write."
"How are her lessons going?" Legolas queried, glancing at the child. Haiweth inched closer to Hammel, and Gúthwyn thought she saw some of the happiness in the Elf's face falter.
"Well, thank you," Gúthwyn was swift to reply. "She is becoming my favorite little artist." A broad smile came to her face. "And Hammel, from what I hear, continues to excel at his lessons. Is that not true, Cobryn?"
"I have only compliments for his studies," her friend answered, and though Hammel was intently concentrating on his plate, she could tell that he was secretly pleased.
The rest of the dinner unfolded without event. Gúthwyn managed to eat a slice of bread; however, she immediately regretted it, for Legolas began talking to her about her land and its people. She was able to converse with him, but her hands would not stop shaking, and she felt so nauseous by the time the meal was over that even the mere sight of food made her want to vomit. Her entire body had been on edge the whole night, her muscles tensing ceaselessly and her throat often feeling constricted.
When at last the feast had finished, including the endless talk afterwards in which tidings of both realms were exchanged, they all stood up to take some rest. Gúthwyn bid good night to all the men, trying desperately to keep her face from paling. The night had been too long, and her mind under stress for too great a span of time.
"Farewell, my lady," Tun said, sounding as if he were speaking underwater. Mentally, Gúthwyn shook her head, and gave a strained smile to him.
"Sleep well," she responded. "After I show Legolas around"—a cold wave of fear washed over her at the thought—"shall we spar together?"
"Of course," Tun happily agreed, and with a bow he and Erkenbrand departed.
Gradually, the other guests began filtering out, and soon Gúthwyn was left with no choice but to approach Legolas. "I hope your rest is undisturbed tonight," she said with a curtsy, barely able to conceal a tremble as she did so. She needed to get away from him. The walls of Meduseld were closing around her, seeking to suffocate her with their grip, and she was helpless…
"Good night, Gúthwyn," Legolas responded, inclining his head. "I will see you tomorrow, then?"
"Yes," she promised him, curling and uncurling a fist. He bowed and left; she watched his back as he disappeared into the passage leading to Théodred's chambers. There was no difference between him and Haldor.
"Good night, sister," Éomer said then, drawing her briefly into a one-armed hug before releasing her. "Try and wake up sometime around noon."
"N-No guarantees," Gúthwyn managed with a small smile.
They parted then, and she hurried out of the throne room, anxious around the shadows that were now beginning to form. The children had already gone to bed, and she was the only one going down the corridor.
Why is it so dark here? she wondered, her palms beginning to sweat.
There was a creaking noise behind her. Gúthwyn took fright and bolted for the safety of her chambers, unreasonably afraid that it was Legolas trying to corner her after everyone had retired to their beds. What are you doing? she yelled at herself as she slammed the door and bolted it. Quivering, she leaned against the wall, wiping her clammy brow with the back of her hand.
It took her several deep, shaky breaths before she felt well enough to cross the room. Her stomach was tying itself in knots: the terror of seeing Legolas after more than a year had wreaked havoc on her nerves.
You are fine, she told herself sternly. You survived dinner.
But it was with a strange detachment that she went over to the chamber pot, kneeled in front of it, and threw up her entire meal.
Afterwards, she felt better. As she wiped her mouth with a damp cloth—wishing all the while that Borogor were with her—she noticed that her stomach was beginning to settle. And her hands were less jittery. She held them in front of her for ten seconds and they did not twitch once. Relieved, she went to her dresser and took out a nightgown. When she had finished putting it on, she lay the green dress carefully over a chair for the maids to wash.
Then she hid the chamber pot underneath her bed, so that the women would not think she had used it. Sometime tomorrow she would have to find the opportunity to empty it in secret. If the maids knew that she had just thrown up, she would find no rest from their endless concerned queries. Éomer would be notified, and that would be the end of any activities she had planned for the day.
Which would actually solve the problem of having to give Legolas a tour. Gúthwyn hovered beside her bed, debating. Should she pretend to be sick from the food, and therefore not able to show him around? No, she at last decided. It was a cowardly thing to do, and she did not want to be bedridden for the entire day. Besides, now that she had vomited, some of her fear had disappeared. Had she not been on tentatively good terms with him before? Had she not even danced with him?
Stop being such a craven child, she scolded herself as she got into bed. He has done nothing to hurt you.
He made you let him sew up your stomach, another voice argued. How many memories of Haldor did that conjure up? He saw that tear just as well as you felt it.
But just as adamantly, the rational half of her mind insisted, That was only because he did not want you to heal the wound himself. And he was right: Your hands were trembling too much to hold the needle steady. If anyone else had walked in on you, they would have done the same.
Gúthwyn groaned and buried her face in her pillow, trying to stifle her tormented thoughts. For a long time she lay there unmoving, doing her best to simply inhale and exhale. She was nowhere close to falling asleep; however, she would not have it be so because she was not trying. So she took several deep breaths, willing herself to forget about both Legolas and Haldor.
Yet that meant that her mind soon turned to Borogor, and from there to Faramir. Yes, she had made peace with Éowyn's husband, but that was only for her sister's sake. Had the two of them not married, she would have refused to even look at him—or she would have merely killed him. So now, whenever she wanted to visit Éowyn, she would be forced to endure the company of the man who had slain Borogor.
Which brought her again to the question: How could she have been so stupid? How could she not have realized that they were both in love with each other? She had plenty of friends in Rohan, but it was with none of them that she fought until the blood came and one of them had pinned the other helplessly to the ground. Borogor was the person in whose hands she would have gladly placed her life; he knew everything that Haldor had done to her, and had not wondered why she barely ate, or why the sight of golden hair made her tremble, or how she could vomit so frequently.
Gúthwyn's eyes were beginning to water when there was a noise from the door. Whirling around in a panic, she saw the knob turning once, twice, several times—it was deterred by the lock she was using. Cautiously she got out of bed and edged towards the door, wondering who on Middle-earth would be visiting her at this hour. A terrified part of her was afraid it was Legolas.
"Who is it?" she called quietly, leaning close to the crack in the door to hear better.
For a long time, there was silence, until a high-pitched voice said, "H-Haiweth."
Immediately, berating herself for bolting the entrance to her chambers, Gúthwyn undid the lock and hastily opened the door. Haiweth stood outside in the hall, her thumb in her mouth and a blanket clutched in her hand. "Nightmare," she whispered.
"Oh, Haiweth," Gúthwyn said softly, and bent down to pick the child up in her arms. Haiweth held onto her tightly, burying her face in her neck. "What was it about, little one?" she asked, swaying gently back and forth.
"Haldor," Haiweth whimpered, and Gúthwyn felt her blood run cold. Haiweth never had nightmares about the Elf.
"Haldor?" Éomund's daughter repeated, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. "What about him?"
"H-He killed the m-m-monsters and then chased me," Haiweth said. Tears began leaking out of the girl's eyes, and soon a wet spot had formed on the shoulder of Gúthwyn's nightgown. "He was mean!" the child sobbed.
Gúthwyn closed her eyes, counted to five, and then opened them. "Did he catch you?" she inquired cautiously.
Haiweth shook her head. "I-I woke up."
For a moment Gúthwyn was quiet, merely rocking the child to and fro, but then she thought of something that had been troubling her for over two years. "Little one, if I ask you a question, will you promise to answer it truthfully?"
Meekly, Haiweth nodded.
"Were you and Haldor ever alone together?" Gúthwyn asked, lowering her voice. Right before she had left Mordor, Haldor had threatened her that he would force himself on Haiweth, if Gúthwyn did not please him. Haiweth had only been five at the time.
Haiweth bit her lip. "No," she said at length, and Gúthwyn breathed a sigh of fierce relief. "But he made you sad."
"Yes," Gúthwyn replied ruefully. "Yes, he did."
"Where did he go?" Haiweth wondered, shivering.
Gúthwyn paused. She had told Hammel of how she had killed Haldor, but neither of them had informed Haiweth of his death. "Well, little one," she said at length, "he is gone."
"Gone?" Haiweth repeated in bewilderment, hiccupping slightly.
"I made sure he will not scare you anymore," Gúthwyn replied firmly. She could recall every second of their fight, the duel that she had been so sure would end in her own death. Yet the Lady Galadriel's dagger had proven to be her savior, and she had used it to kill the one who had broken her. Haldor's body now lay somewhere on Amon Hen, likely rotting and unrecognizable.
Haiweth shifted in her arms. "I do not want to go back," she mumbled. "I want to stay with you."
"Of course you can," Gúthwyn murmured soothingly. "Shall we try and go to sleep now?"
Haiweth nodded, and Gúthwyn began making her way towards her bed. She wondered if Haiweth's dream was connected at all to Legolas' visit. The two of them had hardly spoken that night, but perhaps the mere sight of him had a similar effect on the girl as it did on her. That would not be surprising, she thought grimly to herself as she laid Haiweth on the bed. He and Haldor are exactly alike.
But as she climbed underneath the covers next to Haiweth, wrapping an arm protectively around the child, Gúthwyn reflected that that was not all the case.
Yes, she could place Legolas and Haldor side by side and not be able to tell one from the other. However, as much as she was loath to admit it, their actions were as different as night and day. Legolas was always courteous to her, moreso than she deserved—yet after the first month of their acquaintance, Haldor had not so much as smiled pleasantly at her.
"Good night," Haiweth said blearily, yawning as she did so.
"Sleep well, Haiweth," Gúthwyn responded. She absently stroked the girl's hair, hoping to lull her into a peaceful rest. Gradually it began working: Haiweth's breathing evened, and her hiccups were quelled. Before long she was comfortably asleep.
Yet Gúthwyn remained awake, and it was not until the sun dyed the horizon red that she at last closed her eyes and knew no more.