Eowyn had searched the houses of healing frantically for anyone who could help, anyone available, anyone she could trust to help a Queen run away to battle. It was no easy task, but after a short time she returned to Milandy's chambers to see her stoking a fire in the fireplace already, a group of 5 women in tow.
"They are not many, but they are good women of Gondor who are trained," Eowyn explained as the ladies set up what they had brought with them. She led Milandy to her bed. "They warn me this will be greatly painful. Are you sure of this?"
"I have no choice," Milandy replied as she sat on her bed, lifting her undershirt enough to take her binding and begin to unravel it from her waist. "It is all that will keep is secure enough for me to go to battle. What is a little pain to avenge my fallen kin in Dale?"
As Milandy tossed aside the bandage, a voice spoke up, a soft one, delicate, gentle and sweet. "So it's true," a woman began. "Milandy of Dale. Queen of Rohan. In Gondor."
Milandy looked up, confused by this, the familiarity of the voice striking her. She turned her head, and her jaw fell agape. "Arsilda?" She gasped when her eyes found those of her cousin, in complete disbelief - although she wasn't sure why it was such a shock. Arsilda was a lady of Dol Amroth now, a woman of Gondor. It was only to be expected that she would see her eventually.
Arsilda looked for a moment as though she might weep at the sight of her younger cousin. The two had not seen each other for many summers now, since Arsilda had married, and surely Arsilda had thought Milandy dead for a long time - as the rest of her family had. Arsilda had changed little spare for the lines of age that now gathered at the corners of her eyes and mouth, and how her hair had lightened from the deep shade of coal that it had once been. She still stood with grace, emanating refinement, dressing softly in a way that made her pale skin almost glow, her voice like a song with every word. When her husband had first met her, he had remarked Arsilda's splendor was so great that he had mistaken her for an elf, and that had not changed.
Eventually, though, Arsilda broke into a smile. "You are alive," she remarked before laughing, "and sitting on a bed with a scar on your face and wound in your side, having us help you to break the rules. You may be Queen of the Mark, but you have not changed one bit." She set down a basket of cloth and bandages, making her way around the bed and taking Milandy into an embrace without another word. Milandy had not seen her since she was eight summers, and yet she felt as though she remembered everything perfectly about Arsilda, and a great comfort flooded her. "I have missed you, little one," she whispered.
"And I you," Milandy replied as Arsilda guided her to lay down on her back, her wound facing to the fire. "Tell me of your life now."
"I am happy," Arsilda began, her voice as soothing as Milandy remembered. Arsilda glanced between the fire and other women as she sat with Milandy, already having appointed herself nurse to her. "I have three children. Two sons and a daughter." She lifted Milandy's head, placing a pillow beneath it. "The eldest is Isgold, he is in the guard and fought in the siege. Then there is Elsidel. She is almost old enough to begin courting, and she is so excited." Milandy watched Arsilda reach out to the basket of cloth, taking one of the long, thick pieces and rolling it up. "And Tommendil is our youngest. He is bright, so bright, much like Pa was." It was obvious that Arsilda was trying to keep Milandy distracted, but Milandy cared little. She was not afraid, and was happy to just hear of family. "Elsidel will be excited to know she is related so closely to a Queen," she laughed before nodding to another of the women, "I should imagine she will beg to stay with you in the Summers!"
"I do not believe courtly life in Edoras is as spectacular as the courts of Gondor," Milandy laughed. "Elsidel may find herself disappointed."
"Ah," Arsilda began as the other women began to shuffle around her, one holding something in the fire from the corner of her eye as Eowyn crawled onto the bed beside her, sitting up and taking her hand, looking more afraid than Milandy was. "But Edoras is the land of the Horse Lords," Arsilda continued, "and one would be hard pressed to find a maiden of Gondor who does not daydream of being swept off their feet by a Captain of the Mark!" Arsilda watched one of the other women before giving a final nod and taking the cloth she had rolled up, gently holding it to Milandy's mouth. "Bite onto this," she instructed. "You must be careful not to bite yourself. Especially your tongue."
"Milandy," Eowyn gasped, her eyes wide at the sight of the red poker. "Are you sure?"
Milandy looked up to Eowyn, and then to Arsilda, polar opposites of each other, one almost wrought with fear for her, and another calm and confident. "Do it." She instructed, taking the cloth into her mouth between her teeth, making sure her teeth were free of her tongue or any of the flesh of her mouth.
The pain of the poker was indescribable, and it soon became clear why the five women were needed. It took three including Eowyn to hold her down and still while Arsilda steadied her shoulders and cooed, for although her mind and spirit was determined to overcome the pain and bear the agony, her body was not, involuntarily writing and struggling. The fifth from the houses of healing seared away, her technique meticulous, although no less painful. At first, Milandy had tried to not scream, wanting to retain what she thought was her dignity - but it was not long until her screams could be echoed through the halls, ones of agony, ones of torture. She worried for a time that the men had not left, that Eomer would hear and surely come running, but no one did. Her head dug so far back unto the bed that she was almost certain her neck would snap, and in the moments between each searing burn she felt herself stick with sweat. She screamed again and again, her throat hoarse and feeling as though it was raw and bleeding, but she was unable to stop. Her feet and legs kicked at seemingly nothing, with no aim but to try and exercise the pure agony, and after a period, the pain became so pure and so overwhelming that Milandy thought she would surely die.
But, just as she felt she could no longer scream, as she felt herself losing her vision, as she began to feel herself relenting and giving in to the pain, it was over. The hiss of the poker being dropped into water felt as a song to her ears, and the feeling of herbs and water being rubbed onto the new, sealed burn was almost unnoticeable in comparison. The relief was so that Milandy gave many audible sighs, gasping for breath as though she had gone days without it, the feeling of every muscle in her body recovering from the writing almost painful in its own way. She felt a hand stroke the hair away from her brow that had stuck to it with sweat, Eowyn taking her turn to nurse her now as her senses returned. "You have done so well," she said.
Two of the women lifted her up to sit, Milandy's body feeling incredibly weak and exhausted immediately after as Arsilda began to bind her - only this time it was not just where the wound was. Arsilda wrapped the bandage in a way that would not slip or roll during battle, that looped over her shoulders and under her breasts. "Think of this as an extra armor," she joked, "one from the women." She stitched the edge of the bandage down to another beneath it, sealing it together securely before lifting her arms and helping her into a new undershirt. "I hear there is a rider of every nation with them. Perhaps you may be the rider of Dale."
"No," Milandy said, her voice regaining strength. "I am no rider for Dale. But I will ride for you. And Eowyn. And the healers. And your Elsidel."
"The rider for women?" Eowyn asked, an eyebrow raised as she helped Milandy into her shirt of cloth. Milandy caught Eowyn give a smirk as she reached out for her leathers once Milandy had pulled on the shirt. "But Eomer has always said war is the province of men," she explained, her voice nearly bursting with sarcasm, something that Milandy found amusing to almost no end.
"Did he?" Milandy laughed. "Well, it is good that my husband has me to correct him, then, isn't it?"
Short chapter, I know! Don't panic, the next one will be long and -no,- I haven't decided who Milandy will end up with yet, although I have a feeling. Let's just say it's far from over in matters of love. Far from it. Thanks for all the reviews and lovely comments and messages! You guys are amazing.