Another chapter, I've been writing the new part's chapter's non-stop now. Yay! Lolz, I love writing this story, it ish just so much fun!! Yippee do da day! Heheh ^_^;; Ok, I'm done now, buh-bai!

~Hoshiko

Rule in the Golden Hall

The horses of Rohan carried their three riders quickly through their native lands. They had been traveling through the lands for one and a half days since they had left the pile of bodies, Aradraen carrying Param's knife in her belt. It was night now, and they decided to stop before entering Edoras, camping under a rather large rock. It was a warm night, and the fire they made was not large.

'We will enter Edoras tomorrow.' Aradraen said as she passed around some lembas, they had run out of real food that morning.

'And what if we are not welcome?' Froin asked, poking the fire with a stick. 'Eothan himself said that they were under bad rule. What if we are thrown out the front gates?'

'Hopefully it will not come to that, my friend.' Relnik said, and took a bite of his lembas. They then sat in silence, but their horses neighing and running off quickly broke it. They each jumped up, trying to retrieve them, but it was of no use, they were gone.

'Our luck is turning for the worse!' Froin groaned, and Relnik put a hand on her shoulder to silence her.

'There is someone out there… I can see them.' He said, and slowly they could all see the figure of a bent being in a cloak.

'Who is there?' Aradraen called out, but they received no answer. The figure just kept coming toward them. 'I say, stranger, what is your name?' she called out, and again there was no answer. Under the cloak, Relnik's eyes caught a snow-white beard, and glimmering eyes.

'Relnik, it is Lonel…' Froin said, voice in a horse whisper. 'Ready your bow!' Relnik bent his bow, slowly, not wholly sure.

'I do not know, my friend…'

'What?'

'Relnik is right, Froin, we can not simply shoot an old man. We do not know if it is Lonel.' Aradraen hissed at Froin, but Froin readied her axe.

'An old man would not wander by himself.' She said, and the old man came to them, faster now. She looked about ready to throw it, when Relnik's bow dropped from his hand.

'Relnik, what are you do-'

'Friends!' the old man suddenly cried, and Froin's head snapped to his figure. 'Do not worry, I will not hurt you!' he said, and Aradraen went forward to him.

'Come, you must excuse my friend, we have been under great stress.' She said, and the old man laughed.

'Understandable, understandable.' He said, and stood by the fire. 'I saw some horses run past me when I came by, were they yours?' he asked, and Relnik nodded.

'Yes, they were.' He said, and under the old man's hood, they could see the glint of his eyes.

'An elf, and a dwarf!' he said, examining them closely, 'I have not seen an elf or dwarf for a very long time!'

'Many have not.' Froin mumbled none too kindly.

'Now, now, it is not a time to get hostile!' the man said, and sat down. When he did so, a flash of white could be seen from under his cloak, but he covered it quickly. 'A companion did the same, and it was not to his liking.' He said, and Froin immediately jumped up.

'All right, Lonel, what have you done with our friends? Speak quickly or there will be no head for your hood!' she said, but she never gave him time to explain. He immediately jumped up onto a rock, becoming taller than they had thought him. He threw aside his cloak, and started glowing a bright white light. With a cry Froin threw her axe, but it was blown back into a near tree. Relnik fired his bow, but before it could hit the person it burst into pieces, and Aradraen's now drawn sword became hot as if with fire. The light about him faded, and they could clearly see who it was.

'As I said, it was not to his liking.' He said, and smiled at them.

'Brendalin!' Relnik cried, bowing his head. 'How have you come back to us?'

'If I recall, people seem to keep welcoming you as such.' Aradraen said, awe in her voice.

'Yes, that does seem to be the normal greeting. No matter, do not look so appalled with yourself Froin! If I were in your position, I would have done the same!' he said, and she nodded.

'What friend were you speaking of?' Froin asked suddenly, and Brendalin put up a hand.

'Now, now, I will answer all questions when the time to answer them is correct. Now I will answer Relnik's question, I will tell you how I have come back to you.' Brendalin said, and did so; not telling them that he had already found Teredon.

'And of Lonel, what has become of him?' Aradraen asked, suddenly interested since the subject had come up.

'Lonel is now in Mordor, and I have recently been near there. I had Starflight on top of a hill. The mountain is burning brighter now; the fires are spewing higher than I had thought. I could see large groups of orcs traveling to Mordor, all clad in armor. He is planning on an attack, and I have strong reason to believe his first attack would be Rohan. He has a grip on the King Heogrid.' Brendalin said, and Aradraen crumpled a leaf from a lembas in her hand.

'How long until they attack?' She asked, and Brendalin thought about it. He did not move for a great while, and they had started to wonder if he had fallen into a strange sleep. He nodded after a minute, though, and gave them his estimate.

'About ten days at the least.' He said, and Aradraen nodded.

'That would be enough time to get the people of Rohan to a safer location.' She said, and Brendalin looked at the direction of Edoras.

'Yes, that is saying that we can get the King out of his son's hand.' Brendalin said, and all were silent.

The next day they awoke from the little sleep they had gotten, and started off for Edoras. They reached it at the middle of the day, and ran through the open gates of the city, up to the castle in which the King stayed. They dismounted their horses, and walked up the stairs, being stopped by the guard before entering.

'Who are you, and what is your business here?' he asked, and the wizard looked into the man's eyes.

'It is I Brendalin, along with Aradraen of the Dunedain, Relnik of Rivendell and Froin of the Misty Mountains. Did I not tell you I would return with friends?' he asked, and the man nodded.

'You did, but our King now has trouble telling who is friend and who is foe.' The man whispered so others did not hear. 'It is my orders that no one enters with any weapons of any sort.'

'Surely, you do not believe that we would use them against him!' Froin snorted, and the man shook his head.

'I am sorry. But yesterday I would not have believed that there were still such things as dwarves and elves.' He said, and she snorted, setting her axe down. Relnik slowly put his bow down, and Aradraen put Elendil next to their bow.

'If any harm comes to that, the same will happen to the one who harmed It.' she said, and the man nodded, seeing what the sword was. The man then looked at Brendalin, then his staff.

'That is considered a weapon.' He said, but Brendalin leaned heavily upon it.

'Now, now, I am an old man who has just traveled many miles to get here. If I do not have my staff I shall fall!' he said, and the man sighed, not wanting to argue, and let them into the grand hall. The entire thing was still made of gold, and at the end of it sat an old man on his throne. Next to the throne stood a younger man, rather pasty in skin color. He had black, shifty eyes, and when they fell upon the wizard, they turned to slits, making seem more like a snake than a man.

'Brendalin! You were advised to not come back!' he said as they walked down the hall, Brendalin still relying on his staff. 'You do not listen, even when the advise is in your best interest!' he said, and turned to the man who was his father. 'They have come to try and take your rule, my father! I suggest you force them to go.' He said, and his father answered him, saying something that only he could hear.

'Heobid! Your voice is venom to my ears! I suggest you talk no longer,' he said, and something in his eyes made the young man stop talking. 'Heogrid, my friend!' he said, and the old man stood slowly, walking up to them. They were surprised he was still able to carry himself.

'You… you are no friend of mine… go away,' he said, and Brendalin nodded.

'Your son has poisoned your mind further than the last time I had walked these halls.' He said, and put out his hand. At the same time, a group of men from the courts tried to attack him. The Three Hunters immediately took the men on, making them unable to fight. In a flash Heobid took out his knife, and was about to stab Brendalin when Relnik grabbed his arm, forcing the knife from his hand.

'Look at that!' he said, arm around Heobid's neck, 'stopped by a children's tale!'

While they were doing this, Brendalin had put out his hand, and Heogrid had stopped walking all together.

'Your son has poisoned your mind, you are not as old as you may think! He has sucked the life from you. I would not suggest taking gifts from him any longer.' He said, and from around Heogrid's neck he pulled a chain with a raven-black stone on the end of it. Once it touched his hand, it disintegrated into black dust. He cast it upon the ground immediately, and put his hand down, Heogrid being able to move again. Slowly he put his hand up to his face, and it was as if time was traveling backward.

'I… I… Brendalin… I have not seen you for years, how are you? Speaking of which, where have I been?' he asked, and Brendalin nodded.

'I am fine, and I believe your son knows how you've been, and what you've been doing.' He said, and looked at the ground at the pile of black dust. 'I believe you received a gift from him ten years ago. I small black stone; he had been controlling you with it for years.' He said, and Heogrid looked at his son, who was still in Relnik's hold.

'No, not my son.' Heogrid said in disbelief. But he could vaguely remember the voice of his son, telling him of what to do. At this Brendalin cast aside his cloak, and his white robes could clearly be seen.

'I would not lie to you, my friend.' He said, and Heogrid looked in awe at the Istari's new robes.

'Yes, your son. Even your nephew has realized it and he had been trying to tell you, but that stone had a bit of a grip on you, I'd say.' Aradraen said, and they could see the anger suddenly rise in his face. To Heogrid, it was as if a veil had been lifted from his son's face, and he saw not a healthy young lad, but a cold, snake-like man. His look turned to disgust and drew his sword.

'You… disgusting little wretch!' he growled, and Heobid's face turned to terror. Relnik released him, and he fell to his knees before his father.

'Father, it is I, your son Heobid!' he said, but the King would not be shaken. He grabbed his son by the robes and punched him, knocking his son's small crown from his head.

'I have no son, I never had.' He said, casting Heobid to the ground. A trickle of blood showed brightly against Heobid's pasty skin from his mouth. He wiped it away, before Heogrid kicked him in his rear end, and practically shoved him out the door to the Great Hall. 'Leave my sight before I call my guards on you, you disgraceful little… Wormtounge!' he cried, and his son fell on the stairs, and scurried down them, taking a horse and running away from the city. After the War of the Ring, Wormtounge had become a very strong insult to any one in Rohan, and only used for such occasions.

The commotion had roused residents out of their homes, and they had seen the whole thing. When Heobid had fled from the city, they looked up in wonder, for the King had not left his hall for years.

'People of Rohan!' Froin called, smiling. 'I present to you your King!' mad applause then rang out from everyone, and King Heogrid looked out at his subjects. He was in rule again.

'Tell me, what has happened to my country? To my nephew?' he asked, and turned to Brendalin. Brendalin then led him back into his Hall.