Chapter Twenty-Nine: Attempted
A/N: Ooh, my stomach. Never EVER march around in the sun for an hour, and then run into the air conditioning and eat too much Chinese food. Just don't. Trust me … Ugh, you know, I LOVE the last paragraph of this chapter, but the few paragraphs before that were … uh … challenging to write, because frankly the subject grosses me out. Talking about other people plucking stuff and shaving things … bleh. But the beginning I simply ADORE, because it's funny as hell. Poor Eomer. Oh, and hey Purple Elf, what state is your High School in? Do you have Air Force JROTC or Army, Navy, or Marine? I'm in California with an Air Force JROTC. That's crazy that you did color guard too. Wasn't it fun? It was my first color guard ever and I wasn't even nervous! HA! Right wheels are fun, aren't they? Anyway, on with the fic!
…
She caught Legolas staring disbelieving at her, that she could make such a lie, but he said nothing and neither did the other two. Legolas put his bow down at the coaxing of Aragorn and the ranger turned back to the horse-lord. Eomer continued to question Aragorn scrupulously and Aila's eyes widened under her hood, sweat upon her brow, as Aragorn gave his reply, throwing back his cloak as he spoke.
"Elendil!" he cried. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!" He stood kingly before the riders of Rohan, who took a hurried gasp.
"Lord!" cried Eomer, falling to his knees before Aragorn. "What strange times we live in that legends spring from the grass!" He sat there, upon his knees for a few moments and Aragorn's three companions came to stand beside him. Aila, ensured that her hood was still covering her face, was falsely comforted. Eomer looked up to gaze upon the face of Aragorn but his eyes strayed upon her face, which he could see clearly in the shadow of her hood. He gave another cry and stood quickly, pointing an accusing hand at Aila. "A woman!" he cried. "What trickery is this? That a woman shall claim to be male in these lands?" Calming himself down, he turned back to Aragorn, who in turn put his hand to Aila's forehead and swept back her hood, she closed her eyes against the pale breeze that played across her sweating brow--so different from the humidity of the hood.
"It is of no use now," he whispered to her. "I understand why you did it, however." Nodding ever so slightly, Aila's lips curled minimally.
"I apologize, your lordship, but as a leader in Rohan, I am responsible for my people and the travelers who come through this land and I cannot allow a woman to travel amongst you in the perils that we face these days." Aila muttered under her breath several curses that she found unfit to say too loudly at her evil fortune.
"Why should I not be allowed to travel?" asked Aila. "I have come this far without getting killed, have I not?" Shaking his head, Eomer replied that he could not allow her to travel, that she must come back to Riddermark with his company. Frustrated, Aila wanted desperately to vent her anger, but couldn't.
"I do not trust you with her," said Legolas challengingly, stepping forward to Eomer's face. Though he was tall, Eomer had to look slightly upward to meet the gaze of the elf, who stood even taller. Aila blushed slightly at Legolas' protectiveness, but then she remembered that he was rightly protective. He was an elf, was he not? And she was the Light Bearer? "She is important to my people and I have vowed to keep her safe to the Lady of Lothlorien."
"Would she not be in more danger if she went abroad in these perilous lands, than back with me to the safety of our Hall?" asked Eomer, keeping his cool under the anger of the elf.
"We will be passing close to Isengard," said Aragorn. "Gandalf said Aila was not to go anywhere near Isengard, for her own safety."
"Aragorn!" she cried, stamping her foot. "You're supposed to be on my side."
"It is true," grunted Gimli. "I only think of your safety, Lady." Grumbling, Aila shot daggers at Aragorn with her eyes, and if looks could kill, he would have fallen on the spot.
"I cannot ride a horse," she lied, her last effort to stay with her companions.
"You will ride with me," said Eomer as he turned to mount his horse. Even more angry and frustrated at this point, Aila's short temper steamed within her.
"Oh, I will ride your horse, but not with you on it as well," she replied coolly.
"What?" he cried. "You are not riding my horse! This is a prize steed in my land." Unimpressed, Aila crossed her arms and pouted. She sat upon the ground and crossed her legs as well.
"Then I will stay here."
"But I will not allow you to travel in my lands," Eomer said, slightly distressed.
"Who said anything about traveling?" she said, and she noted slight smiles on the faces of her companions. "I'll just sit here, unmoving, and wait for more orcs to come and kill me, or I will starve to death. Which do you prefer, Lord Eomer?" If Eomer had been calm before, he was quite distressed when she had said this. Also, she saw that the smiles on the faces of her friends had vanished and worry appeared, each knowing she would keep her vow. Sighing visibly, Eomer held the reigns out to her in defeat.
"I consent, take my horse, for your own well-being. My sister would never forgive me if I left you here."
"You're sister is a good lady, Eomer. This I know for sure. She will rise to greatness and defeat evils that you never thought she could," Aila said as she stood up. "I am not pleased at being forced from the company of my friends," she continued, "but I will go willingly with you, by the counsel of my very friends. However, I will cast this hood over my face and it will remain there until I am reunited with my companions once more." Turning to Aragorn, she placed a hand upon his shoulder and looked up at him, as he was several inches taller than her. "Upon your road, you will find someone that you did not expect to see." Throwing formality into the wind, she continued, "Say 'hi' to him for me, all right?" Smiling at each of her friends in turn, she turned to Eomer, who looked upon her beautiful face.
His heart fell when she cast the hood upon her face. *Such beauty should not be hidden from the world,* he thought, but said nothing. She leapt upon his horse and he mounted another previously vacant horse. He rode up beside her as the Company pulled away from the three, Aila waving slightly to them as they waved in return. Eomer had left two horses for the travelers to ride on, as Gimli could not ride a horse, he would ride with Legolas. Turning back to Aila, who rode his horse with little difficulty, he smiled.
"I thought you didn't know how to ride, Lady," he said to her.
"If you really thought that, you wouldn't have given me your horse to ride," she said. "Though I have not ridden since we left Rivendell, which was some while back." She struggled slightly with the overzealous steed of Eomer, but the horse-lord rode beside her the entire way back to the Hall.
"Will you really not remove that hood until you see your friends again?"
"No," replied Aila shortly, and she refused to speak for the rest of the ride. Several times she almost fell off the horse, but she determinedly held on, well aware of Eomer's gaze upon her, smugly watching her struggle against his horse. *I'll show him,* she thought. Closing her eyes, she concentrated wholly on the animal's mind and she sent a scholar wraith to it, walking to the center of the horse's mind, which--interesting enough--was a carrot. Aila laughed slightly at the sight, but the scholar spoke to the horse within its mind, calming words. In the physical world, Aila felt the horse beneath her relax and calmly gallop forward.
The rest of her journey proved easy and they reached the Hall of Riddermark in good time.
…
The large company of riders came to the gates of the city of the Rohirrim, and they were immediately let in once Eomer hailed the guard. Pulling her from her mount, Eomer gently led Aila forward to a great hall that was foremost in the city.
"This is the Golden Hall," said Eomer, grasping her upper arm firmly. "I must take you before King Theoden, my uncle. Beware of his advisor, Grima Wormtongue."
"Wormtongue," sneered Aila. "I have heard the name. Do not worry, but protect yourself most of all against the poison of his tongue. After this meeting is done, I would like to meet you sister, Lady Eowyn." Wondering how she knew the name of his sister, Eomer continued to guide her until she met the Doorward of the Theoden.
"My name is Hama. Here I must bid you lay aside your weapons before you enter." He made as if to pull the bow from where it was hooked on her quiver.
"No one takes these from me. They are gifts from the High Elves of Rivendell and Lorien."
"Then at least," begged Hama, "remove your cloak and hood in respects towards the King."
"I will respect the King more than any here, but I will not remove my cloak and hood either, for I have vowed not to remove these while I mourn being separated from my friends."
"Lady," said Hama, exasperated. "Either remove your cloak or your weapons, or you will be battling the entire army of Rohan."
"Do not tempt me so, Hama," she said shortly, thickening her voice with determination. Eomer, from behind her, smiled slightly at her toughness.
"Do not worry, Hama," he said to the ward, stepping forward and taking Aila's arm again. "I will be sure that my uncle understands."
"I am not worried about your uncle, Lord," said Hama, "but Wormtongue."
"Give me an arrow and my bow and I can take care of him," said Aila menacingly from underneath her hood. The two men laughed and Eomer pulled her through the doors to the presence of King Theoden.
Pulling herself from Eomer's grasp, she walked towards the King and came within ten yards of him upon his thrown, before she curtsied in the most respectful manner and addressed him how she saw fit. At his feet sat Grima Wormtongue. His head was balding and only wisps of hair clung to the sides of his head, and his eyebrows were bushy, hovering over bulging eyes. His nose was small and upturned and he had a weak chin.
"King Theoden, ruler of Rohan, Horse master, leader of the strong men of the Rohirrim," she began, curtsying low. "I come from far to bring you news."
"What is this?" asked the King. "That a woman should show up in men's garb, carrying her weapons and her face hidden behind a hood? Drop thy weapons, Lady, and remove thy hood and cloak before me!"
"I would, dear King," she replied, spreading her hands. "But I have been forcefully separated from my friends by men of your company and I have vowed to keep my face covered with this hood until the day my friends return to my side. As well, these weapons were gifts from elves that I have met upon my road and it would not do well to have them separated from my person." She saw Grima stretch upward to whisper in Theoden's ear and she saw evil in his eyes. She closed her eyes, unnoticed as she was underneath the hood and sent mind wraiths into his vile mind. The stony walls dripped with slime and moss grew along the cracks in the floor. Torches blazed with cold light along the walls. Her wraiths raced to his minds center, where she took hold and commanded his mind.
"Welcome her in glory, for she brings truth!" he heard himself blurting aloud into Theoden's ear and he found himself unable to take back his sentence. He had not meant to say that, he had meant to tell the King to throw her in the dungeons, but that wasn't what had come out from his vile mouth.
"And this truth I will tell you, dearest King," Aila said, proud of herself for conquering Wormtongue's mind. "My companions come on an urgent journey, more important than any other quest of Middle Earth to date, and possibly the most important ever to come, as well. When they arrive, do everything you can to aid them, for the fate of Middle Earth rests on them!" She turned, dramatically swirling her cloak and walked calmly out of the hall, not stopped by Theoden or Wormtongue, as the king was contemplating what she had said and she held Wormtongue's words within his mouth. Eomer followed her, after bowing, wordlessly.
…
"Lady," Eomer said, taking hold of Aila's hand and reaching out his other hand to hold that of a dark-haired woman in royal garb. "This is my sister, Lady Eowyn, whom you wished to meet. Sister, I would introduce you as well, but I know not her name."
"Aila Mannings," she replied when he had finished. "Who must I kill to find a bath around this place?" Eomer and Eowyn both laughed slightly at her crudeness, but Eowyn's chuckle was considerably less than Eomer's, for she knew not what tidings this cloaked woman brought.
"Come, Lady Aila," said Eomer, raising his eyebrows slightly, pleased that he knew her name. "I will show you to your room and your maid will draw you a bath."
"Maid …" trailed Aila. It was so medieval in middle earth she could hardly stand it. It was always "Lady this, Lady that." Frankly, she tired of it, but it was only courteous to show the same respects and accept their respect.
…
"I am very capable of washing myself, thank you," she had snapped at her maid, after she had insisted upon cleaning Aila. Taken aback, the maid left the room huffily, wiping her hands upon her apron. Sighing, Aila took off her soiled traveling clothes and threw them roughly at the door. "If you want something to do," she shouted harshly through the wood of the door, "you can wash those!" She slipped into the warm water, blowing soap bubbles from the surface as she sighed again. Carefully, she removed her hood and carefully folded it, despite its dirt, placing it on the stone floor alongside the bath tub
She stretched to her very toes, her body hidden under the water. When the maid re-entered the bathroom to gather her clothes and Aila hurriedly grasped her cloak and covered her face again.
"Lady, would you like me to clean your cloak as well?"
"No, leave my cloak."
"Yes, milady. I will set clothes out for you when you come out of the bath." Nodding underneath the folded cloak, Aila sunk further into the bath and dropped the folded cloak back to the floor when she heard the door click shut. Again blowing imaginary bangs from her forehead, Aila dunked her head under the water and began to wash her skin.
Wrinkling her nose, she saw the water turn darker and darker as more dirt came from her skin. Desperately, she wished she had her bag with her, but that had remained with Aragorn and the other two for some strange reason. She had her razor in that bag, and she was sure, after months, that her legs would be disgusting. *Wearing pants does have its plusses,* she thought.
She didn't even put her hand to her leg, dreading the feeling that would meet her already water-logged fingers. Again, she groaned as she put a hand over her eyes, also remembering her eyebrows. Her uni-brow would have returned as well. It was yet another flaw she held hidden from everyone around her. Putting a hand to her forehead, to feel the bristly hairs that would have sprouted from above the bridge of her nose, Aila's fingertip only met the smoothness of her skin. Confused, she continued feeling her forehead for a few moments before reaching across the bathroom to a small vanity mirror that lay upon a table near the bathtub.
"Is this for real?" she asked herself, staring wide-eyed into the mirror. Her eyebrows remained plucked and clean. Pondering this, she got a sudden idea and her hand shot underwater, reaching past her knee. Again, she was shocked to find she only touched bare skin. Though it had been weeks, months even, since she had shaved them, her legs remained smooth.
For a few minutes more she marveled at this, utterly confused as to why it was happening. Sighing with a frustrated air, when she could produce no relative answer, she blew some bubbles from the water's surface. Her fingers were beginning to wrinkle already, but she didn't care, the warm water felt much too good on her sore muscles. Taking a deep, slow breath, Aila allowed her head to become totally submerged in the water.
Her wavy brown hair flew around her face, floating softly in the water.
"A plain road, though it led through a hedge of swords," the words reverberated through her mind, causing her to give an involuntary shudder. Boromir had never been so true. *Boromir …* she thought. *If only I had done more to save him. Perhaps things would have been different.* But different for the better, she knew not.
A feeling of morose swept over her, and she opened her eyes underwater, despite the soapy bubbles. The soap stung her eyes, causing sharp throbs of pain to shoot into her head, but she ignored them--no, she relished them, more like. Holding her breath, she stayed underwater for a few more seconds, before coming thrashing to the surface. Gasping for breath, clutching the sides of the bathtub as if she were being pulled under the water. Realizing what she had attempted to do, Aila hung over the edge, water dripping from her hair and face, creating a puddle on the stone floor.
…
A/N: Personally, I love the ending of this chapter the most. Implying something, aren't I? Okay, well, further chapters will kind of clarify what just happened in the last paragraph, but all of my smarter readers will know exactly what I'm talking about, and they'll still be shivering right now. Hmm. Deep Blue Something rules! Go Green Day!
A/N: Ooh, my stomach. Never EVER march around in the sun for an hour, and then run into the air conditioning and eat too much Chinese food. Just don't. Trust me … Ugh, you know, I LOVE the last paragraph of this chapter, but the few paragraphs before that were … uh … challenging to write, because frankly the subject grosses me out. Talking about other people plucking stuff and shaving things … bleh. But the beginning I simply ADORE, because it's funny as hell. Poor Eomer. Oh, and hey Purple Elf, what state is your High School in? Do you have Air Force JROTC or Army, Navy, or Marine? I'm in California with an Air Force JROTC. That's crazy that you did color guard too. Wasn't it fun? It was my first color guard ever and I wasn't even nervous! HA! Right wheels are fun, aren't they? Anyway, on with the fic!
…
She caught Legolas staring disbelieving at her, that she could make such a lie, but he said nothing and neither did the other two. Legolas put his bow down at the coaxing of Aragorn and the ranger turned back to the horse-lord. Eomer continued to question Aragorn scrupulously and Aila's eyes widened under her hood, sweat upon her brow, as Aragorn gave his reply, throwing back his cloak as he spoke.
"Elendil!" he cried. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!" He stood kingly before the riders of Rohan, who took a hurried gasp.
"Lord!" cried Eomer, falling to his knees before Aragorn. "What strange times we live in that legends spring from the grass!" He sat there, upon his knees for a few moments and Aragorn's three companions came to stand beside him. Aila, ensured that her hood was still covering her face, was falsely comforted. Eomer looked up to gaze upon the face of Aragorn but his eyes strayed upon her face, which he could see clearly in the shadow of her hood. He gave another cry and stood quickly, pointing an accusing hand at Aila. "A woman!" he cried. "What trickery is this? That a woman shall claim to be male in these lands?" Calming himself down, he turned back to Aragorn, who in turn put his hand to Aila's forehead and swept back her hood, she closed her eyes against the pale breeze that played across her sweating brow--so different from the humidity of the hood.
"It is of no use now," he whispered to her. "I understand why you did it, however." Nodding ever so slightly, Aila's lips curled minimally.
"I apologize, your lordship, but as a leader in Rohan, I am responsible for my people and the travelers who come through this land and I cannot allow a woman to travel amongst you in the perils that we face these days." Aila muttered under her breath several curses that she found unfit to say too loudly at her evil fortune.
"Why should I not be allowed to travel?" asked Aila. "I have come this far without getting killed, have I not?" Shaking his head, Eomer replied that he could not allow her to travel, that she must come back to Riddermark with his company. Frustrated, Aila wanted desperately to vent her anger, but couldn't.
"I do not trust you with her," said Legolas challengingly, stepping forward to Eomer's face. Though he was tall, Eomer had to look slightly upward to meet the gaze of the elf, who stood even taller. Aila blushed slightly at Legolas' protectiveness, but then she remembered that he was rightly protective. He was an elf, was he not? And she was the Light Bearer? "She is important to my people and I have vowed to keep her safe to the Lady of Lothlorien."
"Would she not be in more danger if she went abroad in these perilous lands, than back with me to the safety of our Hall?" asked Eomer, keeping his cool under the anger of the elf.
"We will be passing close to Isengard," said Aragorn. "Gandalf said Aila was not to go anywhere near Isengard, for her own safety."
"Aragorn!" she cried, stamping her foot. "You're supposed to be on my side."
"It is true," grunted Gimli. "I only think of your safety, Lady." Grumbling, Aila shot daggers at Aragorn with her eyes, and if looks could kill, he would have fallen on the spot.
"I cannot ride a horse," she lied, her last effort to stay with her companions.
"You will ride with me," said Eomer as he turned to mount his horse. Even more angry and frustrated at this point, Aila's short temper steamed within her.
"Oh, I will ride your horse, but not with you on it as well," she replied coolly.
"What?" he cried. "You are not riding my horse! This is a prize steed in my land." Unimpressed, Aila crossed her arms and pouted. She sat upon the ground and crossed her legs as well.
"Then I will stay here."
"But I will not allow you to travel in my lands," Eomer said, slightly distressed.
"Who said anything about traveling?" she said, and she noted slight smiles on the faces of her companions. "I'll just sit here, unmoving, and wait for more orcs to come and kill me, or I will starve to death. Which do you prefer, Lord Eomer?" If Eomer had been calm before, he was quite distressed when she had said this. Also, she saw that the smiles on the faces of her friends had vanished and worry appeared, each knowing she would keep her vow. Sighing visibly, Eomer held the reigns out to her in defeat.
"I consent, take my horse, for your own well-being. My sister would never forgive me if I left you here."
"You're sister is a good lady, Eomer. This I know for sure. She will rise to greatness and defeat evils that you never thought she could," Aila said as she stood up. "I am not pleased at being forced from the company of my friends," she continued, "but I will go willingly with you, by the counsel of my very friends. However, I will cast this hood over my face and it will remain there until I am reunited with my companions once more." Turning to Aragorn, she placed a hand upon his shoulder and looked up at him, as he was several inches taller than her. "Upon your road, you will find someone that you did not expect to see." Throwing formality into the wind, she continued, "Say 'hi' to him for me, all right?" Smiling at each of her friends in turn, she turned to Eomer, who looked upon her beautiful face.
His heart fell when she cast the hood upon her face. *Such beauty should not be hidden from the world,* he thought, but said nothing. She leapt upon his horse and he mounted another previously vacant horse. He rode up beside her as the Company pulled away from the three, Aila waving slightly to them as they waved in return. Eomer had left two horses for the travelers to ride on, as Gimli could not ride a horse, he would ride with Legolas. Turning back to Aila, who rode his horse with little difficulty, he smiled.
"I thought you didn't know how to ride, Lady," he said to her.
"If you really thought that, you wouldn't have given me your horse to ride," she said. "Though I have not ridden since we left Rivendell, which was some while back." She struggled slightly with the overzealous steed of Eomer, but the horse-lord rode beside her the entire way back to the Hall.
"Will you really not remove that hood until you see your friends again?"
"No," replied Aila shortly, and she refused to speak for the rest of the ride. Several times she almost fell off the horse, but she determinedly held on, well aware of Eomer's gaze upon her, smugly watching her struggle against his horse. *I'll show him,* she thought. Closing her eyes, she concentrated wholly on the animal's mind and she sent a scholar wraith to it, walking to the center of the horse's mind, which--interesting enough--was a carrot. Aila laughed slightly at the sight, but the scholar spoke to the horse within its mind, calming words. In the physical world, Aila felt the horse beneath her relax and calmly gallop forward.
The rest of her journey proved easy and they reached the Hall of Riddermark in good time.
…
The large company of riders came to the gates of the city of the Rohirrim, and they were immediately let in once Eomer hailed the guard. Pulling her from her mount, Eomer gently led Aila forward to a great hall that was foremost in the city.
"This is the Golden Hall," said Eomer, grasping her upper arm firmly. "I must take you before King Theoden, my uncle. Beware of his advisor, Grima Wormtongue."
"Wormtongue," sneered Aila. "I have heard the name. Do not worry, but protect yourself most of all against the poison of his tongue. After this meeting is done, I would like to meet you sister, Lady Eowyn." Wondering how she knew the name of his sister, Eomer continued to guide her until she met the Doorward of the Theoden.
"My name is Hama. Here I must bid you lay aside your weapons before you enter." He made as if to pull the bow from where it was hooked on her quiver.
"No one takes these from me. They are gifts from the High Elves of Rivendell and Lorien."
"Then at least," begged Hama, "remove your cloak and hood in respects towards the King."
"I will respect the King more than any here, but I will not remove my cloak and hood either, for I have vowed not to remove these while I mourn being separated from my friends."
"Lady," said Hama, exasperated. "Either remove your cloak or your weapons, or you will be battling the entire army of Rohan."
"Do not tempt me so, Hama," she said shortly, thickening her voice with determination. Eomer, from behind her, smiled slightly at her toughness.
"Do not worry, Hama," he said to the ward, stepping forward and taking Aila's arm again. "I will be sure that my uncle understands."
"I am not worried about your uncle, Lord," said Hama, "but Wormtongue."
"Give me an arrow and my bow and I can take care of him," said Aila menacingly from underneath her hood. The two men laughed and Eomer pulled her through the doors to the presence of King Theoden.
Pulling herself from Eomer's grasp, she walked towards the King and came within ten yards of him upon his thrown, before she curtsied in the most respectful manner and addressed him how she saw fit. At his feet sat Grima Wormtongue. His head was balding and only wisps of hair clung to the sides of his head, and his eyebrows were bushy, hovering over bulging eyes. His nose was small and upturned and he had a weak chin.
"King Theoden, ruler of Rohan, Horse master, leader of the strong men of the Rohirrim," she began, curtsying low. "I come from far to bring you news."
"What is this?" asked the King. "That a woman should show up in men's garb, carrying her weapons and her face hidden behind a hood? Drop thy weapons, Lady, and remove thy hood and cloak before me!"
"I would, dear King," she replied, spreading her hands. "But I have been forcefully separated from my friends by men of your company and I have vowed to keep my face covered with this hood until the day my friends return to my side. As well, these weapons were gifts from elves that I have met upon my road and it would not do well to have them separated from my person." She saw Grima stretch upward to whisper in Theoden's ear and she saw evil in his eyes. She closed her eyes, unnoticed as she was underneath the hood and sent mind wraiths into his vile mind. The stony walls dripped with slime and moss grew along the cracks in the floor. Torches blazed with cold light along the walls. Her wraiths raced to his minds center, where she took hold and commanded his mind.
"Welcome her in glory, for she brings truth!" he heard himself blurting aloud into Theoden's ear and he found himself unable to take back his sentence. He had not meant to say that, he had meant to tell the King to throw her in the dungeons, but that wasn't what had come out from his vile mouth.
"And this truth I will tell you, dearest King," Aila said, proud of herself for conquering Wormtongue's mind. "My companions come on an urgent journey, more important than any other quest of Middle Earth to date, and possibly the most important ever to come, as well. When they arrive, do everything you can to aid them, for the fate of Middle Earth rests on them!" She turned, dramatically swirling her cloak and walked calmly out of the hall, not stopped by Theoden or Wormtongue, as the king was contemplating what she had said and she held Wormtongue's words within his mouth. Eomer followed her, after bowing, wordlessly.
…
"Lady," Eomer said, taking hold of Aila's hand and reaching out his other hand to hold that of a dark-haired woman in royal garb. "This is my sister, Lady Eowyn, whom you wished to meet. Sister, I would introduce you as well, but I know not her name."
"Aila Mannings," she replied when he had finished. "Who must I kill to find a bath around this place?" Eomer and Eowyn both laughed slightly at her crudeness, but Eowyn's chuckle was considerably less than Eomer's, for she knew not what tidings this cloaked woman brought.
"Come, Lady Aila," said Eomer, raising his eyebrows slightly, pleased that he knew her name. "I will show you to your room and your maid will draw you a bath."
"Maid …" trailed Aila. It was so medieval in middle earth she could hardly stand it. It was always "Lady this, Lady that." Frankly, she tired of it, but it was only courteous to show the same respects and accept their respect.
…
"I am very capable of washing myself, thank you," she had snapped at her maid, after she had insisted upon cleaning Aila. Taken aback, the maid left the room huffily, wiping her hands upon her apron. Sighing, Aila took off her soiled traveling clothes and threw them roughly at the door. "If you want something to do," she shouted harshly through the wood of the door, "you can wash those!" She slipped into the warm water, blowing soap bubbles from the surface as she sighed again. Carefully, she removed her hood and carefully folded it, despite its dirt, placing it on the stone floor alongside the bath tub
She stretched to her very toes, her body hidden under the water. When the maid re-entered the bathroom to gather her clothes and Aila hurriedly grasped her cloak and covered her face again.
"Lady, would you like me to clean your cloak as well?"
"No, leave my cloak."
"Yes, milady. I will set clothes out for you when you come out of the bath." Nodding underneath the folded cloak, Aila sunk further into the bath and dropped the folded cloak back to the floor when she heard the door click shut. Again blowing imaginary bangs from her forehead, Aila dunked her head under the water and began to wash her skin.
Wrinkling her nose, she saw the water turn darker and darker as more dirt came from her skin. Desperately, she wished she had her bag with her, but that had remained with Aragorn and the other two for some strange reason. She had her razor in that bag, and she was sure, after months, that her legs would be disgusting. *Wearing pants does have its plusses,* she thought.
She didn't even put her hand to her leg, dreading the feeling that would meet her already water-logged fingers. Again, she groaned as she put a hand over her eyes, also remembering her eyebrows. Her uni-brow would have returned as well. It was yet another flaw she held hidden from everyone around her. Putting a hand to her forehead, to feel the bristly hairs that would have sprouted from above the bridge of her nose, Aila's fingertip only met the smoothness of her skin. Confused, she continued feeling her forehead for a few moments before reaching across the bathroom to a small vanity mirror that lay upon a table near the bathtub.
"Is this for real?" she asked herself, staring wide-eyed into the mirror. Her eyebrows remained plucked and clean. Pondering this, she got a sudden idea and her hand shot underwater, reaching past her knee. Again, she was shocked to find she only touched bare skin. Though it had been weeks, months even, since she had shaved them, her legs remained smooth.
For a few minutes more she marveled at this, utterly confused as to why it was happening. Sighing with a frustrated air, when she could produce no relative answer, she blew some bubbles from the water's surface. Her fingers were beginning to wrinkle already, but she didn't care, the warm water felt much too good on her sore muscles. Taking a deep, slow breath, Aila allowed her head to become totally submerged in the water.
Her wavy brown hair flew around her face, floating softly in the water.
"A plain road, though it led through a hedge of swords," the words reverberated through her mind, causing her to give an involuntary shudder. Boromir had never been so true. *Boromir …* she thought. *If only I had done more to save him. Perhaps things would have been different.* But different for the better, she knew not.
A feeling of morose swept over her, and she opened her eyes underwater, despite the soapy bubbles. The soap stung her eyes, causing sharp throbs of pain to shoot into her head, but she ignored them--no, she relished them, more like. Holding her breath, she stayed underwater for a few more seconds, before coming thrashing to the surface. Gasping for breath, clutching the sides of the bathtub as if she were being pulled under the water. Realizing what she had attempted to do, Aila hung over the edge, water dripping from her hair and face, creating a puddle on the stone floor.
…
A/N: Personally, I love the ending of this chapter the most. Implying something, aren't I? Okay, well, further chapters will kind of clarify what just happened in the last paragraph, but all of my smarter readers will know exactly what I'm talking about, and they'll still be shivering right now. Hmm. Deep Blue Something rules! Go Green Day!