I do not own LotR or anything else in Arda.
The four rode over a crest in the hill and came in sight of the city, built onto a large hill. "Edoras," Gandalf said. "And the golden hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong." "I believe you should take care of it," Taríen said. "I do not wish to reveal myself just yet. I will if necessary." "Very wise, Rávaníra," Gandalf said. "Perhaps you have grown." She glared at him and stuck her tongue out. "Or perhaps not," Gandalf mused.
"Be careful what you say," Gandalf instructed. "Do not look for welcome here. Rávaníra, I might suggest putting your hood up, since you cannot disguise yourself." "Of course," she snorted. She dismounted and pulled a violet skirt from her pack. She shook it out and pulled it over her tunics and weapons. She fluffed it slightly and adjusted her tunic around it. She mounted, pulling off her cloak and replacing it over her bow and quiver. She pulled the hood up over her fair hair and face. Gandalf spurred his horse, followed by Taríen, Legolas, and Aragorn. They rode hard for Edoras.
As they entered the city, Taríen spied a woman in white, with the blonde hair of the Éothéod, near the palace doors. As she watched, a flag was torn from a pole by the wind. It flew down and landed before them at the gate, the galloping horse on a green background. They continued their ride for the palace, which, unlike Minas Tirith, was of wood, not stone.
Taríen noticed that Aragorn's hand was on the hilt of his sword, and he had also spied the woman. The people watched the grimly. "You'd find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli remarked. "Hush," Taríen ordered quietly. "'Tis been a long time since Rohan had something to hope for, and 'tis been a long time since they were not constantly being ravaged by orcs. We intend to amend that."
When they reached the courtyard of the palace and dismounted, a troop of guards met them as they came up the steps. Gandalf was leaning heavily on his staff, making it seem like a walking stick. Taríen kept her head bowed and her eyes to the ground as she submissively walked several steps behind them. "Ah," Gandalf said with a smile, as if he was a senile old man. "We cannot allow you before Théoden-King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame," their leader said. "By order of Gríma Wormtongue."
Gandalf nodded to the others, who slowly handed over their many weapons. The guards didn't even spare a glance towards Taríen. "Your staff," the leader said. Gandalf looked at him and grimaced, leaning heavily on the staff. "Oh, no. You would not part an old man from his walking stick?" The man rolled his eyes and grimaced, but led them in. Taríen smirked slightly.
As they walked in, Gandalf beckoned Taríen forward, and he leaned heavily on her. He spoke directly to her mind, If it goes ill, get your weapons to the men and release Théoden from Saruman's hold, but we cannot let the King die!" "I was not born yesterday, old man. I do know something of strategy, even if my life decisions have been poor," she replied irritably.
She heard the man sitting next to Théoden, who must have been Gríma Wormtongue, whisper to Théoden, "My lord, Gandalf the Grey is coming." The doors closed behind them with the ominous sound of a bolt sliding into the lock. They walked slowly forward as several other guards entered the room. "He's a herald of woe," Gríma whispered.
"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden-King," Gandalf called across the hall. "He's not welcome," Gríma whispered to Théoden. "Why…should…I… welcome…you…Gandalf…Stormcrow?" Theoden asked haltingly, as if pained. The King immediately turned back to Gríma. "A just question, my liege," Wormtongue replied encouragingly.
He stood up to face them. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lack-spell I name him, ill news and ill guest," he said, quickly walking towards them. "Be silent," Gandalf said sharply, standing up tall from leaning on Taríen. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crude words with a witless worm." He held his staff in Gríma's face. The pale-faced man backed up quickly. "His staff," he said. "I told you to take the wizard's staff!" he called to the guards.
The guards rushed forward, and the three fought them off, keeping them away from Gandalf. Taríen backed away quickly to the wall, playing the part of a frightened woman, while slipping a dagger into her hand. Gandalf walked forward as if there was nothing going on. "Théoden," he called, raising his hand. "Son of Thengel." The King began to sit up straighter, but he turned his head away from Gandalf. "Too long have you sat in the shadows," Gandalf continued. Legolas knocked down the last of the guards and Gimli put his foot on Gríma's chest as he tried to get up. "I would stay put if I were you," he growled. Gríma grimaced.
"Harken to me," Gandalf ordered. Theoden looked at him with guarded eyes. Gandalf held out his hand and splayed his fingers. "I release you from this spell." He closed his eyes as he focused. Theoden began to laugh in a voice that was not his own. Gandalf opened his eyes and put his hand down. "You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey," Saruman said through Théoden.
Suddenly, Gandalf threw off his grey cloak, revealing his pure white garments. Théoden let out a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a scream. Gandalf held out his arms, and Théoden slammed back into his throne. "I withdraw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound!" Gandalf ordered. He pointed his staff at Theoden, and he slammed harder into his throne with a gasp. He was obviously fighting it.
Suddenly, the blonde woman in the white gown entered the room and tried to run to Théoden. Taríen quickly caught her arm. "Wait," she ordered firmly, looking back towards the scene at the throne. The woman looked there as well. "If I go, Théoden dies!" Saruman snarled. Gandalf threw him against the throne once more. "You could not kill me, you will not kill him," Gandalf said firmly. "Rohan is mine," Saruman snarled. Gandalf thrust him into the throne one last time. "Begone!"
Théoden was slammed against the throne and was obviously released from the spell. He began to collapse. The woman tried once more to run to him. This time, Taríen let her. The woman caught Théoden and pushed him back down as color returned to his graying hair and some hint of youth to his face. The woman smiled. "I know your face," Théoden said. "Éowyn." She smiled even more broadly. She laid a hand on his cheek. "Éowyn," Théoden repeated.
Théoden looked up at his visitors. "Gandalf?" he asked. "Breathe the free air again, my friend," Gandalf replied. With a bit of help from Éowyn, Théoden stood from his chair. "Dark have been my dreams of late," Théoden said. He looked down at his hands. "Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your sword," Gandalf recommended.
A soldier brought forth the sword, and Théoden drew it from its scabbard. Gríma tried to get up and leave, but Gimli held him down. Théoden looked at his blade in wonderment. He took a deep breath and then turned towards where Gríma was held by two soldiers. A moment later, he was thrown down the steps outside the hall. He tumbled down with a yell.
"I have only ever served you, my Lord," Gríma tried to say as Théoden followed him down the stairs. "Your withchcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" Théoden growled. "Send me not from your sight!" Gríma begged. With a roar, Théoden swung his sword at Gríma, but Aragorn jumped in front of him. "No, my lord," he said, catching Théoden. "Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account." Théoden nodded, and Aragorn extended his hand to help Gríma up. He spat in it.
"Get out of my way!" he bellowed as he ran. The gathered people were pushed away as the Wormtongue charged through them, aiming to get as far away from Théoden as possible. "Hail, Théoden-King!" Aragorn yelled as Gríma rode away from the hall. The Rohirrim bowed to Théoden. Aragorn bowed as well. Taríen pulled her hood back and stood beside Éowyn, Legolas and Gimli at the top of the steps. She curtsied lightly, clearly displaying that she was of a high-rank in a different land.
Théoden turned to look up at them. "Where is Théodred?" he asked, confused. "Where is my son?" Eowyn slowly walked down the stairs to meet him. "He is dead, Uncle," she said sorrowfully. "He died in the night." Theoden bowed his head in grief. After a moment, he looked up and said, "I have not asked your names, friends of Gandalf. I would ask how a Man, a Woman, an Elf, and a Dwarf came to travel with a Wizard?"
Aragorn glanced at Taríen, and she stepped forward. "We were representatives chosen by a Council called of all Middle-earth," she said. "Rohan was not invited due to your being under Saruman's control. This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, representing the Dunédain. This is Gimli, son of Glóin, representing the Dwarves of Erebor, and Legolas Thranduilion, representing the Woodland Realm in Mirkwood. My husband and I represented Gondor."
"And you are, my lady? I apologize, you are familiar to my eyes, but my memory is quite muddled at the moment," Théoden apologized. "I am Taríen Eleniel, the Lady of Gondor," she said proudly. Theoden bowed lightly to her. "It is an honor, my lady. I apologize for not recognizing you. May I ask where your husband is?" Taríen bowed her head. "He died five days ago," she said quietly.
Théoden bowed his head as well. "I am sorry, my lady. It seems we are both grieving at the moment." "We are at war, Théoden-King," she stated as she sighed. "There are always casualties in war."
