A/N to raxasrules: Correction - Falenor HATES going to Rohan. He is terrified by what he is doing, as you will see in this chapter!
The Blue-Eyed Demon and The Golden King
They were galloping over the plain, and had been doing so for almost a week. Something trouble Aragorn, a shadow of a doubt since they had entered Rohan. Since Falenor had begun, in vain, to disguise a terror in his heart.
"You said once that you would not be welcomed in Rohan," Aragorn asked the drover, turning to glance over his shoulder. "Why is that?" For a moment Falenor said nothing, and the ranger began to think he would not answer.
"Have you heard the story of the Blue-Eyed demon?" Falenor asked at last.
"Never," Aragorn pondered the name. He remembered Eomer had called Falenor "blue eyes", uttering the name as a curse.
"It is a Rohan legend," Falenor told him. "Among my family and my people, it is a fact. In the year 2939 Anduin the Valiant came through Rohan on a quest to destroy the shield of Morgoth. When he finally succeeded in that task, or rather, when his companions succeeded, the evil that was unleashed awoke the sleeping power of the Ring where it resided in the depths of the Misty Mountains. But that is another story.
Anduin, like all of my forefathers before me, had blue eyes, the legacy of Tuor. Among the brown-eyed Rohirrim, such eyes were, and still are, uncommon.
The Rohirrim tried to stop Anduin, but his mere presence caused the horses to rebel. They would not approach Anduin, nor any member of his party. When Rohan realized Anduin's power, they tried to detain him. They were unsuccessful, so they set about making plans to capture him and take him to Edoras.
Anduin set a "curse" upon the horses of the Rohirrim. He drove them wild, so that they turned on their masters and fled into the hills surrounding the Falls of Rauros. No Man of Rohan has ever managed to capture their horses from those hills, and their descendants still run free there to this day. I met one of them there, a stallion named Braig."
"You met one?" Aragorn interrupted. "What happened to him?"
"You frightened him away," Falenor told him. "Now, can I finish my story?
My people know that Anduin called upon the spirit of the Merka Fea to save him. The horses were possessed by his spirit and are called the Roch Yassen Faer Uricon.
The people of Rohan called Anduin the Blue-Eyed demon. They tracked him through Gondor, where he evaded their grasp by slipping past close to the boarders of Mordor. From then on, it has been known to my family that if another Heir of Calenor slips into the grasp of Rohan, he will never find his way out."
Aragorn remained silent, mulling this over as Hasufel cantered over the golden grass.
"Then we owe you our thanks," the ranger said at last. "Gandalf was right, you have great courage to come this far into Rohan."
They journeyed north until they came to Edoras. As they looked upon the Golden Halls and the Riddermark, Aragorn could feel Falenor trembling slightly behind him. The ranger clasped Falenor's hand in his own as he gazed up at the city that sprawled upon a hill.
"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld," Gandalf announced. "There dwells Theoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Theoden is now very strong. Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here."
"I wasn't," Falenor said, his voice dry. They spurred the three horses forward and approached the walls of the city. As they came to the gate a flag, ripped from its pole, flapped through the air. It landed, still fluttering feebly, near to Hasufel's hooves.
The gates were opened, but the guards did not speak to them. As they rode up through the city, many of the villagers cast sidelong glances at them. Several women gathered together as they passed, whispering. Aragorn could have sworn he heard one of them say, "Blue-eyes..."
The ranger looked up at the Golden Hall and saw a pale woman standing there, watching them. She was clothed in a white dress and when she saw Aragorn look at her, she turned and vanished into the hall.
"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli remarked as they came to the steps of the hall. They all dismounted, and Falenor spoke softly to the horses, bidding them to stay. The five of them turned and climbed the stairs, Gandalf leaning heavily on his staff.
A company of guards came out of the hall and stopped them. "I cannot allow you before theoden king so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By order of... Grima Wormtongue," a red haired guard informed them. Gandalf nodded, and Aragorn, Legolas, GImli, and Falenor began to disarm.
Aragorn had his sword, knife, bow, and quiver to give up. Legolas yielded his two swords, bow and arrows to the guards. With a hesitant pause, Gimli handed over his axe. Falenor had the most to relinquish.
He pulled the dagger from his hip and the sabers from his back. Then he bent down and pulled two knives from his boots. He surrendered the knives he kept hidden at his wrists to the guard, who by now looked slightly overwhelmed.
Falenor held up a hand for them to wait and then pulled two small knives from the sheaths he kept hidden under his armpits. He handed these to the guard with an expert flip and shrugged. Gandalf cleared his throat slightly. The drover sighed softly and then pulled a long dagger from a sheath hidden under his shirt at the small of his back.
Some of the guards had an almost amused look on their faces as their companion struggled to keep a hold on the ten blades Falenor had given up. The captain arched an eyebrow, but then turned back to Gandalf.
"Your staff," he demanded.
"Eh?" Gandalf asked. "Oh. No, you would not part an old man from his walking stick?" The guard considered this for a moment, and gave Gandalf a knowing look and allowed the five of them to pass through the doors.
Gandalf winked and took Legolas's arm, allowing the Elf to lead him into the hall.
"How many knives do you need, drover?" Aragorn asked, stepping into place beside Falenor. The peredhel said nothing, but flashed a crooked smile at him.
The doors banged shut behind them with an ominous thud. The interior of the hall was shadowed, and at the far end sat an elderly, wizened man in a throne. A greasy black-haired man knelt at the king's side, whispering into his ear.
"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden King," Gandalf's voice echoed through the pillared chamber. Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and Falenor turned slightly at the sound of footsteps. The guards were following close behind them.
"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf... Stormcrow?" Theoden wheezed. The greasy man nodded to the king, stepping away from his throne.
"A just question my liege," he said, his voice as thick and sweet as honey. Grima Wormtongue stood and walked down the center of the hall towards them.
"Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear," he sneered. "Lathspell I name him. Ill news is in ill guest."
"Be silent!" Gandalf snapped at Wormtongue. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!" The wizard raised his staff menacingly.
"His staff!" Wormtongue rasped, backing away in fear. "I told you to take the wizard's staff!" The guards rushed forward, but Legolas, Aragorn, Falenor, and Gimli moved to block them. They fought hand and fist, striking down the guards to give Gandalf a free passage to Theoden.
One of the king's guards moved to draw his sword, but the guard who had allowed them through the doors stopped him.
"Theoden, Son of Tengel," Gandalf thundered, seemingly oblivious of the fighting around him. A guard jumped into the wizard's path, sword drawn. Falenor tackled the man, sending him tumbling to the ground where the drover held him pinned. "Too long have you sat in the shadows."
Gimli had knocked Wormtongue down and placed a heavy foot on the gasping man's chest.
"I would stay still if I were you," the dwarf advised him grimly.
"Harken to me!" Gandalf said, raising a hand. "I release you from the spell." Everything was quiet for a moment. The guard under Falenor stirred slightly and the peredhel gave him a hard punch.
"You have no power here Gandalf the Grey," Theoden wheezed a crackling laugh. Suddenly Gandalf threw aside his grey cloak, revealing his white robes beneath. Theoden leaned back into his throne, stunned by the brightness of the wizard's garments.
"I will draw you Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound," the Istar announced, advancing forward with his staff before him. Theoden squirmed in his throne, gripping the arm rests. The white lady Aragorn had seen from the village rushed forward and tried to go to the king, but Aragorn grabbed her arm and restrained her.
"Wait," he told her, staring at the struggling king.
"If I go - Theoden dies," the king's lips moved, but it was not his voice that spoke. Gandalf jabbed his staff at Theoden, causing the king to be thrown back against his throne.
"You did not kill me," the wizard said coldly. "You will not kill him."
"Rohan is mine!" the voice said again.
"Be gone!" Gandalf thundered. Theoden jumped up at the Istar with a yell, but he fell back once more with a groan. The white lady struggled and slipped from Aragorn's grasp. She rushed to Theoden and caught him as he began to slip from his throne. The king's face was changing, so that he seemed to travel backwards in time with great speed. Finally a golden haired, middle-aged man blinked and stared at the lady.
"I know your face," he rasped, his voice hoarse as though from lack of use. "Eowyn - Eowyn." The lady smiled, delighted, and placed a hand on her uncle's face.
"Gandalf?" the king asked, turning to look at the wizard, his brown eyes puzzled to see the Istar there.
"Breathe the free air again, my friend," Gandalf said.
"Who are these?" Theoden asked, his eyes turning over Legolas, Gimli, Falenor and Aragorn.
"May I present Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Gimli, son of Gloin, Falenor, heir of Calenor, and Legolas of the Woodland realm." Falenor winced as Gandalf said his true name. He had not told the wizard that he wished to remain anonymous. Theoden,however, did not seem to register anything the wizard said.
"Dark have been my dreams of late," Theoden sighed, standing up shakily.
"Your fingers would remember their old strength better - if they grasped your sword," Gandalf suggested. Something under Falenor heaved slightly and the drover looked down to see the guard still pinned beneath him.
"Oh. Sorry, friend," he said, standing up and helping the guard to his feet as the captain of the king's guard presented Theoden with his sword.
The king fingered its hilt, then drew it and looked along its steel length. Suddenly his eyes fell on Wormtongue, who was cowering nearby, his robes fixed in Gimli's grasp. Theoden snarled and advanced on the cowering servant. He grabbed a fistful of the greasy man's robes and hauled him down the hall. Kicking open the doors he tossed Wormtongue unceremoniously down the stairs.
"I have only ever served you my lord!" Wormtongue yelled as he rolled to a stop at the bottom of the steps.
"Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" the king snarled, coming down the steps, Gandalf close behind. Many of the guards went also, along with Aragorn, but Falenor remained at the door of the hall.
"Send me not from your side!" Wormtongue begged, his voice high and frightened. Theoden raised his sword with a yell, but Aragorn ran forward and stopped him.
"No my lord!" He said, seizing the king's arms. Theoden turned and blinked blankly at the ranger. "No my lord. Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account." Aragorn turned and offered his hand to Wormtongue, who spat on it. The man turned and ran through the crowd, shoving them out of his way.
"Hail, Theoden, King!" Aragorn shouted, sinking into a kneel. The crowd followed him, everyone bowing low except for Gandalf and Falenor. Luckily the king did not notice the drover, but turned and looked through his court.
"Where is Theodred?" he asked, not seeing the young man. "Where is my son?" No one answered him.
