"My King!"
The announcement of their King stopped the street-goers in their tasks. Their heads promptly turned down the street to see King Theoden seated high upon Snowmane, trotting up the path. The sight was unexpected, a disruption of routine with a rare sight from before the King's ill days. Eyes paused to stare before their bodies jolted to move out of the way- instantly clearing the streets. As picture of reverence and respect, the people bowed their heads as he passed. Their King was mighty and strong in their eyes; a leader for days may be changing for the better.
The mind of the King, however, is a different story. Upon his return, Theoden would again resume his title. No, the people couldn't see the worries and dangers the haunted his sleep. Such worries had to stay on the grassy plains where he sought solitude. Only there could he be alone and free. But as he rode by, Theoden cordially greeted and waved to his people. A gentle smile decorated his face which he refused to let drop until he entered the stable.
Stable hands approached as Theoden stopped Snowmane. Handing away the reins, he dismounted. He gave Snowmane a gentle stroke upon his neck and said goodbye before the horse was led away.
The long shadows placed a pleasant coolness upon Theoden's face as he stepped out of the stable. The sun, completing its daily travel, set itself behind the mountains. Only the fires cooking dinner within the hearth would be their source of warmth. From the fire's smoke, delicious fragrances were released as it left the chimneys—a welcome scent to his nose and a reminder to his stomach upon his first step. His subsequent step, however, was stopped midway. Theoden placed his foot down and stared ahead. Before the stairs of the Golden Hall, a child-sized person sat alone on the stone seat. Their shoulders were hunched forward as their feet kicked up and down. Smoke dribbled from their frowning mouth in short bursts.
Theoden expressed no difficulty recognizing such a child-sized person; their big feet and curly hair alone gave away the identity of Merry. It even easier as he was the only Hobbit present in Edoras. Indeed, Master Merry was a sore sight from when the Hobbit sat upon the walls of Isengard with his friend. Theoden sighed.
"Master Hobbit," Theoden called to the Hobbit as he approached.
The Hobbit jerked the pipe from his mouth and pulling his head up to the King. His mouth hung open for a moment before scrambling frantically to his feet. "King Theoden! What a pleasure to see you this evening!"
"As it is for me," Theoden said, "I was hoping for the pleasure of your company at my table tonight. It will not be too long before the dinner bell is rung, and surely you Master Hobbit will be looking forward to it as I?"
"Ah, Yes! Exactly! I am positively starved." Merry said, rocking on his feet while smiling.
"Excellent. I was hoping you could resume our conversation about the history of smoking, having promised Gandalf to finish later. I am particularly interested in this Old Toby, was it?"
"Old Toby, sir?"
"Yes, how he came by the plant?"
A loud chime echoed out of the Golden Hall, gently drawing the King's and Hobbit's attention. Three times it clamored to announce the start of the dinner hour.
Theoden looked back to the Hobbit. Gesturing with his hand to the Hall, he spoke: "Shall we?"
"Ah yes!" Merry walked by the King's side. "We can start with old Toby. Tobold Hornblower of Longbottom, who in the year 1070, grew the first true pipe-weed in his gardens. How he came by the plant..."
Merry told the story as they walked, but as the two disappeared within the Hall, the Hobbit grinned ear-to-ear.
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Gimli threw back his head. His boisterous laughter commanded the attention of the Rohirrim soldier only to find himself was stunned. The soldier's eyes shifted furiously between his now empty hand and the ground. In one swift swoop, Gimli had freed the sword from his grasp. The gleaming blade spun through the air, landing with a loud crash far away from where the two stood. Gimli enthusiastically celebrated his victory while the soldier lowered his head to retrieve the discarded sword. The soldiers groaned—the Dwarf's score: 10 to 0.
"That's another win for me," Gimli said, "Come and face if you dare."
Gimli tightened his relentless grip on his ax. The Dwarf surveyed the crowd, hoping for any sign of a fight. Each soldier turned away, pretending to be in conversation or engaged in other tasks to avoid the Dwarf's sneering smile, hoping not to be singled out. They knew the rumors of Helm's Deep to be true- that he and an elf entered in a competition of orc slaying.
"No takers?"
His blood was boiling as it coursed throughout his body. His heart fluttered hard against his chest, wanting to burst free. Fighting was exhilarating. Fighting was a thrill and Gimli would have it one way or another, either with soldiers or the Princeling Elf who hid from him.
"Strange the day is as I find a Dwarf making fools of my soldiers."
Gimli spun on his heel, eagerly searching for the voice. He stopped instantly before a crowd of soldiers and Éomer stepped forth. Éomer donned no armor, wearing only a light tunic and pants. His flax hair was partly tied back. However, it was Éomer's hand resting on his sword that Gimli was drawn to.
"Only because they are unable to rise to my challenge."
Éomer stopped before Gimli. A breathless hush fell among the gathering soldiers. "A challenge?" A single brow lifted as he spoke: "For all one knows, I could be a better match for one of your skills?"
"Aye, and we can resolve the matter of the Lady Galadriel, which lies unfinished between us."
"Though it has no bearing on your challenge, I again ask for your forgiveness for my harsh words. The Lady of the Woods is unknown to us beyond rumor of being a sorceress of traps which none walk away from."
Gimli lowered his stance, raising his arms into a fighting position, "Still, I must warn you of any foolish words against the Lady who is fair beyond measure. I will take it upon myself to teach you gentler words."
"We shall see," Éomer said, drawing forth his sword. "Extraordinary things have changed that I would learn the praise of a fair Lady under the loving strokes of a Dwarf's ax."
A/n: Expect one more part later this week. Once they're all up, I'll probably go back and make it all one chapter. But for now, I'm tired and ready to call it for the night.
Thank you love readers for visiting today and I hope you all have a wonderful week