The next seven days of travel passed without incident. We saw no more kine or Eagles, or indeed, much of anything at all. Word was going out slowly it seemed, that the War was over, and the Rohirrim were taking their time sending their herds back out into their eastern lands. The last three of those days were spent traveling through a soaking rain, which was needed, judging from the condition of the grass, but which slowed our progress somewhat, and made tempers, even amongst the serene Elves, a little short. Their appreciation of and communion with nature did not make them inclined to appreciate soggy bedrolls and cold meals any more than I did, and I was a Ranger, long inured to the fact that Weather Happens.
The routine we had begun continued. The Prince kept on walking and riding and gaining strength, and I continued my lessons in horsemanship with him. He caught a cold, but was otherwise pleased with my progress, as was the Lord Celeborn, who was still training my mind gifts, and was unruffled even when his lovely robes were mud-spattered. Elladan and Elrohir gave me brief sword lessons in the morning and evening, and though Lord Elrond sometimes looked as if he'd like to plant a sword in my heart, and drop me in a ditch somewhere, in speech to me he was never aught but civil.
The seventh night found us camped a little bit away from the fords of the Entwash. Elrohir and I had scouted ahead, and found the river risen, but the fords still passable, and we returned as dusk fell to report this. Over supper, it was decided to brave the Entwade the next morning, though there was some concern over the horse litter. The Prince then declared that he would ride across, and I told him that if he wished to do so then he could ride Fortune and I would ride Caerith across, for I did not want the grey to indulge himself and roll while the Prince was on his back. The Prince laughed at what he termed my 'masterfulness', started coughing and went to bed early. Lord Elrond, who had a small spirit lamp in his tent, warmed some noxious brews for him, and administered them despite some cleverly worded, diplomatic protestations. We heard no further coughing, or indeed any noise at all from the Lord of Dol Amroth that night.
The next morning, the rain had stopped, but the sky was still grey, and there was no friendly Sun to dry our garments or tents, so we squished somewhat as we packed. The Prince's symptoms seemed much abated by whatever Lord Elrond had given him, but he stayed in the litter at the Elf-lord's insistence, until we reached the ford itself. The water had risen up to the horses' bellies, so everyone pulled their feet up so as to keep their boots dry. My feet got rather wet in the end anyway, since I had to drop my legs to pummel Caerith's ribs as we neared the far side, and I once again contemplated murdering the Prince's favorite war horse. When we got safely across, he took a look at my boots, winced, and traded mounts with me as swiftly as possible.
"You should get back in the litter, sir," I told him. He shook his head.
"I have not had my morning ride yet, Hethlin." Caerith, overjoyed at having his proper master astride him, was dancing in place. Sighing in capitulation, I rode forward, the Prince at my side.
The murmur of the Entwade had scarce faded behind us when it was replaced by the thunder of many hooves. The Prince spoke quickly to the Elven lords and ladies, and the caravan came to a halt as a Rohirric patrol galloped up and drew rein, spears lowered. Imrahil reached into his saddlebags and drew forth King Eomer's parchment, then gestured me to ride forward with him, hand up in token of peace. As the two of us approached, a man who had a horsetail on his helm not unlike Eomer's, though his was chestnut, suddenly barked a command, and the spears were raised.
Prince Imrahil smiled suddenly, and held out his arm, and the captain rode forward and clasped it, speaking Westron with a sonorous Rohirric accent.
"Prince Imrahil. The King sent out word that you might be returning this way."
"Captain Freowald. It's good to see you again."
"And you, sir. It was said you would be in the company of a Gondorian courier and a couple of elves." He surveyed the company, and I could sense eyebrows raising beneath the elaborate runic chasing that surrounded the brow of his helm. "Your elves seem to have multiplied." The Prince chuckled.
"I bring into the Mark such guests as have not graced it in many a year. The Lady Arwen of Imladris rides to Minas Tirith to wed the King Elessar. With her is her father, Lord Elrond of Imladris, and her brothers, the Lords Elladan and Elrohir. Her grandparents, the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood also ride with us, as do such members of both households who wish to attend the ceremony." Captain Freowald cast an assessing glance over the elegant legends who walked the fields of his homeland, and his eyes widened somewhat. I had noticed that the Lady Galadriel could seem majestic or mild as suited her mood, and both she and Lord Celeborn looked somewhat innocuous at the moment. Lord Glorfindel, on the other hand, seemed unable to appear other than tall, glowing and glorious. He truly looked as if he could eat Balrogs, or a troop of Riders for that matter, for breakfast. Then there was Lord Elrond, severely magnificent, his handsome duplicate sons, and Arwen, incredibly lovely even on a grey and unlovely day.
"King Elessar is to wed? This is great news indeed! Is it your intention to pass through Edoras on your way to Minas Tirith, my lord?" the captain asked.
"Yes, we thought we might pay King Eomer a brief visit along the way. I doubt he will be able to leave Edoras to go to the wedding itself after so recently returning, and the Lady Arwen had expressed a wish to meet him," the Prince said mildly. The captain nodded, a bit stunned it seemed. His eyes kept straying in Arwen's direction.
"Indeed, he has been much closeted with his advisors, and that does not look to end any time soon. I am sure he would be grateful for the diversion." With that, Captain Freowald seemed to come to himself of a sudden, and turned his horse, uttering a swift spate of Rohirric to the Riders behind him. One of them immediately wheeled his horse, and urged it into a gallop, heading westward.
"I have sent word back to Edoras of your arrival," the captain told us somewhat unnecessarily. "And you will find a warm welcome when you come there. Had you any trouble on your journey to the Golden Wood, or back?"
"We met a mixed troop of Uruk-hai and Mordor orcs on the Wold, twenty in number, hard by Fangorn on our outward journey. They died," said Prince Imrahil matter-of-factly. Captain Freowald grinned.
"Then you have done the Mark a service, for I have been sent to ride out that way in search of just such a party. Perhaps I'll have a peaceful patrol after all." The Prince shrugged.
"Perhaps, and perhaps not. We do not know if we killed all of them. Apparently there are some caves beneath the Wold in which they were lairing. You may run into trouble yet, Captain." It was the Captain's turn to shrug.
"I'll take whatever fortune I may find, my lord Prince. And if I should find a fight....." he grinned, and I groaned inwardly. The Rohirrim were battle-happy to a man it seemed. "May you journey to Edoras be swift and smooth."
"And your patrol as well, Freowald," Imrahil replied. The two of them clasped hands once more, then Captain Freowald returned to his troop and they cantered off in the direction of the Entwade, lifting their spears in salute as they went.
We returned to the caravan, and Lord Elrond promptly commanded the Prince back into the litter, where he was ordered to remain for the rest of the day. He protested somewhat, but I suspected it was more for form's sake than because he truly wished to keep riding. Lord Elrond again administered his cold remedies, and the Prince slept much of the afternoon away. I missed my horsemanship lesson, for which he apologized at dinner, but he was obviously feeling much better, and was quite his usual witty and personable self over the evening meal. Staying up rather later than had been his wont thus far, he exchanged stories with the Elves until I finally gave up and went to bed, and fell asleep listening to the rise and fall of his well-trained voice.
The next day, the sun came out at last, and we enjoyed three days of fair weather as we traveled to Edoras. We encountered a couple of patrols headed outward as we journeyed, but they merely saluted us without stopping--word had apparently been spread. The inhabitants of the scattered farmsteads we passed watched us warily, some of them from hiding. The legends of the Golden Wood spoke of it as a home of dangerous enchanters or worse, and the farm folk were not eager to draw our attention.
On the evening of the third day, we came around a spur of the White Mountains, and saw Edoras upon a hill at the base of the spur. It was a walled city, as was Minas Tirith, but with a single wall only, a great dike around it and a thorny fence surmounting the wall. A rutted track wound its way up to the city, fording the river, and passing between two rows of mounds, covered with white flowers. As I rode Caerith beside the Prince's litter, he explained that the mounds were the barrows of the Kings of the Mark, and he named the names of the first line of Kings upon the right side, starting with Eorl and ending with Helm, then the second line of kings upon the left, starting with Frealaf, and ending with Thengel.
"It is there that they will barrow Theoden King when he is brought home to the land of his fathers," explained the Prince. "Eomer is Theoden's sister's son, so he will be the first of the third line of Rohirric kings."
At length we came to the gates of the city, which were manned by many men wearing the white and green of the Mark. Two stepped forward, their spears at the ready, and the others sprang up alertly as well.
"Who is it who comes to Edoras with the setting of the sun? Declare yourselves and your errand," they demanded in the Common Tongue. Prince Imrahil swung carefully out of the litter, and walked forward.
"I am Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth, and with me rides the Lady Arwen of Imladris, bride of the King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor, and her household." The spears were immediately lowered, and the tall men smiled.
"You are welcome, lord prince, as are those who accompany you, and are expected by Eomer King. You may leave your good beasts here--we will tend them well. Come within the walls--night is falling, but we have fire and food and drink awaiting you. The King thought that you would arrive this evening." My lord bowed.
"The hospitality of the Mark is legendary."
Lord Elrond spoke to the Elves accompanying us, and all dismounted, the riders of the Elven horses speaking to them in low voices. Saddlebags and other necessities were removed from saddles and pack trees. The gates of Edoras were opened to us, and two of the guard preceded us. We found ourselves upon a broad path paved with flagstones, winding upward to the crown of the hill, upon which sat a great hall with a golden roof. I moved to the Prince's left hand, lest he falter upon the trip upward, for the path was steep. Lord Elrond was at his other hand, his daughter at his side. Behind us came Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, flanked by their grandsons, then Glorfindel and the remainder of the elves, some of them carrying fairly large bundles.
A small stream flowed in a channel beside the path, chuckling as it tumbled down the hill, and I could hear the elves behind me commenting upon it in their sweet voices. Wooden houses with intricately carved eaves rose upon either side of the path. Any late-playing children were whisked inside as we passed, and I could spy faces in many of the windows and doors, regarding us as we made our way upward. There were stairs in places, and though they were broad and shallow, they nonetheless caused the Prince some difficulty. Halfway up the hill, I slipped my arm under his elbow, and he looked over at me with a smile of rueful thanks. Lord Elrond, I noticed, was watching him carefully.
Finally, we reached the crest of the hill, and found a green grassy terrace. There, the spring issued forth from a stone horse's head, and fell into a basin before it began its journey down the hill. The hall known as Meduseld stood upon a great stone platform, and a broad flight of steps led up to it. There were stone seats upon either side of the stairhead, and two very tall guards with drawn swords laid across their knees sat in them. The Prince looked up the stairs, and sighed quietly.
"Let us ascend, Hethlin," he said somewhat dryly, and we started upward. He made it all the way to the top with my help, though he was leaning rather heavily upon me by the time we got there. Our escort spoke to the guards in Rohirric, and they stood, bowed respectfully, and turned the hilts of their swords toward us in token of welcome. One of them spoke to us politely in Westron.
"Our custom it was in time of war to bid all who entered Edoras to leave their weapons without the door. But Eomer King expects you, and names you friends and allies, and declares that you may carry arms within his hall. Please enter--the King is within, and awaits you." With that, he turned to his fellow, and they pushed open the huge, intricately carved doors.
The hall within was rich and magnificent, but in a way far different from the courts of Minas Tirith. There was less stone, and more brilliant color. Intricately carved pillars held up the high roof, and the floor was paved with many colored paving stones, which were also carved in curling, complicated designs--and there were runes in the designs, I thought. I wondered what they meant. Beautiful tapestries hung upon the walls, and in the flickering light of torches lit against the coming dark, the woven figures seemed almost to move. A series of narrow windows high up under the eaves, and the louvered opening of a hearth that stood cold in the center of the hall, showed the purpling blue of the evening sky.
On the southern end of the hall, opposite the doors, was a dais with three steps, and upon the dais was a golden throne, and upon the golden throne was King Eomer, looking rather golden and magnificent himself. A golden circlet with a single white diamond confined his flowing locks, and he was wearing a beautiful deep green tunic, broidered all about the neck and hem and sleeves with a design of running horses, cunningly picked out in gilt threads. A belt of gilded leather spanned his narrow waist and a collar of linked gold plaques, enameled with Rohan's White Horse on Green, and studded with amber and emeralds, rested upon his shoulders.
At his side, in a smaller chair, sat Eowyn, clad in white as was her habit, and her gown too had the gilt horses upon it, and she had a golden girdle of plaques that matched her brother's collar. She looked upon the horde of elves in some amazement, then smiled happily when she saw me, and I smiled back. Eomer's advisors stood ranged behind him on the dais--some of them young men, a few with varying amounts of silver in their golden hair. The Marshall of the Riders was there, and I smiled at him as well, remembering him from Minas Tirith. He nodded a polite acknowledgment.
I had seen Eomer in kingly guise once before, in Aragorn's court, and he had been impressive then, but he was even more so now, in his own place. He and the great hall suited each other, completed each other in some way. He rose, and came down the steps to greet us as we came forward, and I could tell the exact moment when he got a good look at the Lady Arwen's face, for his confident stride faltered for a moment, and his eyes went wide as a boy's. But he recovered himself quickly enough, and greeted us with that blazing smile of his.
"Welcome to Edoras, my lords and ladies! Prince Imrahil, please name to me these notables who grace my hall." The Prince nodded.
"King Eomer, I present to you Lord Elrond of Imladris, and his daughter, the Lady Arwen of Imladris. She is King Elessar's betrothed." Eomer grasped Lord Elrond's arm in a forthright warrior's clasp, which I suspect startled him slightly. It was always hard to tell with him, but his eyebrow did shoot up.
"Even my folk have legends about the wisdom of the Lord of Imladris. Welcome to my hall, Lord Elrond." Lord Elrond inclined his head graciously. Eomer released him, and turned his attention to Arwen, whose hand he took much more gently.
"Aragorn I count as my beloved brother, lady, and it gladdens my heart to know that I now have such a lovely sister. Would that I could attend your wedding," and that was said so fervently that I almost laughed, "but I fear that my own realm is somewhat unsettled still, and requires my attention." Arwen smiled her lovely, serene smile.
"Estel wrote me of what a valiant warrior you were, my lord, but he neglected to tell me of how courteous and well-spoken you are." Eomer flushed slightly under her regard.
"Thank you, my lady." I saw the Prince's lips twitch momentarily, and then he ushered Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel forward.
"The Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel of Lorien. The Lords Elladan and Elrohir you already know."
"Indeed," said Eomer, giving them a polite nod. He seemed much more confident about confronting them here in his own palace. The twins flashed identical grins. Lord Celeborn reached for Eomer's arm even as the King reached for his, and I thought I saw a look of surprise flash across Eomer's face at the strength of that slender limb.
"We are neighbors, Lord of the Mark, though it be from afar," Lord Celeborn said in his quiet way, "I am very glad to meet you."
"And I you, my lord," Eomer replied readily enough, though something in his expression led me to believe that he might be having a moment such as I'd experienced once or twice, where the enormous age and experience of the Elf you were casually speaking to suddenly became apparent. But he was nothing if not bold, and he hesitated not in the least as he turned to the Lady Galadriel and took her hand in his.
"My people also have legends about the beauty of the Lady of the Golden Wood," he said, diplomatically leaving out the fact that most of those legends painted her as a witch or evil sorceress. Lady Galadriel's eyes met his, and they stared at each other silently for a moment. Lord Celeborn glanced at his wife quickly, then looked away. Finally, the lady dropped her eyes, and Eomer shook himself as if he'd been woolgathering. Lady Galadriel smiled the sweetest smile I'd ever seen her make, and her low voice was smooth as honey when she spoke.
"I remember the day your folk rode from the North. We watched the battle from the borders of Lorien, for we feared if the Gondorrim fell, we would have to battle the orcs and Easterlings beneath the boughs of the forest. When Eorl had the victory on the field of Celebrant, we were gladdened as well. You have the look of your forefather about you, and that is fitting--that Rohan should have another young king to lead her into a new age." There was an approving murmur from his councilors, and Eomer himself seemed very moved by this speech, and inclined his head respectfully.
"Thank you, my lady." He was then introduced to Glorfindel, and they made quite the picture when seen together--the glowing, golden elf-lord, and the glowing, golden mortal king. They took to each other right away, and I smiled at the prospect of wargames being played with the food at the high table.
Eomer in his turn introduced first Eowyn, then his councilors to everyone, and as he did so, servants began to file into the hall. In short order trestles, tables and chairs were set up, cloths spread upon the tables, table settings laid, glasses and pitchers of ale and wine made ready and dishes and platters full of roasted meats and other savory food set out. We stood and chatted amongst ourselves as this was done, save for Eowyn, who moved amidst all the activity, issuing quiet orders. I was surprised to notice that though most of the servants did her bidding quickly, one or two seemed resentful or angry, and I wondered what had caused this animosity.
The Prince, usually so sociable, actually withdrew to the edge of the crowd, and I followed him. He had made his way to one of the massive pillars, and was leaning against it, when all the color suddenly drained from his face. Concerned, I took his arm, and could feel his whole body shivering.
"My lord," I murmured quietly, knowing he would not want a fuss made, "are you well?"
"I'm a bit dizzy, Hethlin," he admitted softly. "That climb up the hill.....if I could just sit down for a moment or two, I think I would be all right." I started to suggest that he could probably sit upon the dais stairs or at the table, even though they were still setting it, when his eyes rolled up in his head, and he made a small, protesting noise. He let go of the pillar, and made a blind clutch at my shoulder as he went down, and I went down with him, so as to keep him from harming himself upon the stone floor. We ended up with him sprawled unconscious across my lap, his head cradled safely upon my shoulder.
His collapse could hardly go unnoticed, and quite a hubbub started. I heard Eomer's voice exclaim, "Imrahil!", and then Lord Elrond was there, as if he'd suddenly materialized out of nothing. He stooped and laid hands upon my lord's forehead and throat for a long moment.
"What happened?" he asked me coolly.
"He came over here, and leaned against the pillar. When I asked him what was wrong, he said he felt dizzy, and needed to sit down. Then he fainted. He will be all right, won't he?" I asked beseechingly. The thought of being in fear for his life again was very unpleasant. Lord Elrond's answer, however, was quite calm.
"He has simply overtaxed himself. The walk up the hill.....and he was upon his feet for far too long. I should have insisted these people make some accommodation for him, but he did not want that. Too much bother, he said. He was feeling well enough to go on, he said. A very persuasive man, but I think in the future I shall keep firmly in mind who is the patient and who the healer." I looked up to find Eomer and Eowyn both looking down at us with great concern, as well as a circle of spectators comprised of the elves, the councilors, and the odd servant. It was as well, I thought, that the Prince was not awake--he would not have enjoyed being the center of attention in this way.
"What ails the Prince?" the King of Rohan inquired.
"He suffered a poisoned arrow wound upon the way to Lorien," Lord Elrond replied. "And has yet to fully recover. He has been traveling with us in a horse litter, and did too much this day. He should feel better tomorrow, given rest and quiet. I require a room for him, and the means to bear him there."
"My lord, you already possess the means to bear him whither you would," said Lord Glorfindel, and he stepped forward, knelt, and scooped up the prince as if he were naught but a small child. Lord Elrond smiled at his tall, blonde friend, and Eowyn stepped forward.
"If you will come with me, my lords, I will show you to the room that has been prepared for him," she said, and turned, and led us from the hall through a smaller door at the rear of the dais. We walked down a set of rather steep stairs to a fair, wooden house that stood to the rear of Meduseld. There was a smaller hall within the house, which had two stories, and bedrooms upon the upper level. Glorfindel, seemingly tireless, bore the Prince without complaint up the stairs to a large and pleasant room that Eowyn showed us. It was paneled and floored in wood, the only stone being the hearth upon which an unlit fire was laid. Beautifully woven hangings adorned the walls, and the bed the Lord Glorfindel laid the Prince upon was massive and intricately carved, with a huge feather tick. Candles in sconces upon the walls lit the room, and there was a bronze bell upon a small table beside the bed.
"Ring this if you wish for anything. There are servants here in the house," Eowyn told us.. Lord Elrond nodded his thanks, and checked the pitcher at the washstand to see if it was full.
"My lady, our thanks for your assistance. Glorfindel, would you be so kind as to escort the Lady Eowyn back to her guests? Lady Hethlin and I can manage things from here." Eowyn gave the Prince a last, troubled look, and me a worried smile, then turned to the Elf-lord, and took the arm he proffered her. As they exited, I turned to the Prince and began pulling his boots off. Lord Elrond began unbuckling his sword, and removing his tunic. I hesitated before unfastening his breeches, and Lord Elrond gave me an inquiring look.
"He does not usually allow me to serve him in this way," I explained, and the Lord of Imladris made a noise that sounded very like a snort to me.
"He is hardly in a position to protest now, is he?" The tone of his voice said to me that he thought I was being a silly girl, so I stripped my lord of his breeches and stockings, and helped to tuck him into the bed without further protest.
"What do we do now?" I asked when we had finished arranging him comfortably.
"There is really nothing to do. He is still in the swoon, rather than truly asleep. He may lapse into slumber, or he may wake briefly. If he does so, he should try to eat and drink a little--that was part of his problem as well, I think. That is all that truly needs to be done."
"If that is the case," I said somewhat hesitantly, "why don't you return to the feast, my lord? You are one of the great folk, and should be there. I could sit with him, and coax him to eat if he wakes up. I have no skill in healing, but I could manage that much. And I am his esquire--it is my place to care for him." Lord Elrond gave me a keen-eyed look, then nodded after a moment.
"Indeed. I believe I shall go and eat. I will have the servants bring food up for you, Lady Hethlin, and I will have one of my household bring a cake of lembas and a cordial up for the Prince. Should he awake, give him those things--they will restore him more quickly than any mortal food. If he is still hungry after that, which I very much doubt he will be, he may eat as he chooses. I will return before retiring to look in upon him." I nodded my understanding, and stood and bowed as he left the room.
When the door had closed behind him, I unbuckled my sword belt, removed my helm and shrugged out of my hauberk and gambeson. There was an armor rack in the corner, and I hung them there--the Prince's mail was stowed among the baggage at present, and I didn't think he would mind. Finding one of those carved chairs beside a small table, I pulled it over close to the bed, and settled in. Shortly after that, one of the Imladris elves came in, bearing my saddlebags, the Prince's, a flask, cup and wrapped cake of the lembas. He presented them to me, bowed, and departed without a word. Then a Rohirric servant brought me some supper--a plentiful sampling of what they were eating in the Golden Hall. I had just finished my meal, and was wiping my mouth, when I heard a stirring from the bed beside me. The Prince's glance was moving weakly about the room, and finally came to rest on me.
"Tell me I didn't faint in front of Eomer and everyone, Hethlin," he murmured. I smiled.
"I would sir, but I thought you encouraged your esquires to tell the truth." He groaned, and I chuckled. "You were very polite and quiet about it, if that makes you feel any better."
"It does not."
"Lord Elrond left you some things to eat and drink." He grimaced.
"He would."
"These are nice things, for a change." I assisted him to sit up, and when he had done so, presented him with the lembas on a plate and a cup of the cordial. His hands were still shaky, so I helped him at first, but after he'd had a few sips and mouthfuls, he was able to eat and drink on his own. As usual, he was embarrassed by his helplessness, so I tried to be matter-of-fact as possible. He looked as if he felt much better when he had eaten--remembering the invigorating effect of the lembas Lord Celeborn had given me, I was not surprised. Knowing how much he hated to be untidy, I got his soap out of the saddlebags, poured a basin of water and helped him wash his face and hands, then produced his comb, and set to work upon his hair.
"Hethlin, you do not have to do this," he protested, as I began to work the tangles out. His hair was longer, and far better behaved than his nephew's, which seemed to have a contrary will of its own.
"Who is going to help you with this if not your esquire?" I asked him tartly.
"Lord Elrond will, or Lady Arwen," he replied, though he was beginning to relax beneath my hand.
"And why is Lady Arwen permitted to assist you with such things, and not me?" To my surprise, he looked genuinely taken aback for a moment.
"I suppose there is no difference, at that," he said at last. "Thank you for your help." I had just finished combing it out when a quiet knock came at the door, and it cracked open. Two heads peeked in, one black, one blonde. The Prince smiled.
"Ladies! Do come in!" Lady Arwen and Eowyn both slipped into the room, and Imrahil settled back against his pillows with a pleased look. "It appears that all the fairest flowers are gracing my room tonight. I shall have to swoon more often." Eowyn came forward and embraced him, her cheek against his.
"I was worried for you, uncle. Do tell me that you are feeling better now." He patted her shoulder reassuringly.
"I am much better now, Eowyn--I merely overdid things a bit. Give me a good night's sleep, and I will be ready to look at your lovely horses." Arwen shook her head.
"Father says to tell you that you are staying in bed tomorrow. We remain in Edoras tomorrow, the day after and possibly the day after that, depending upon how you feel." Imrahil looked at her, distraught.
"Lady, I do not wish to make you late for your wedding!" Arwen merely smiled.
"We can afford two, or even three days delay, and still reach Minas Tirith on time. But see that you do as my father says, my lord, so that we do not need more than that." The Prince nodded, somewhat chastened, and Arwen moved to the side of the bed. "Father wishes for you to get a good night's sleep tonight, but as he is engaged in a deep discussion with the King and his advisors, and Grandmother and Grandfather, he asked me to see to it." And before the Prince could protest further, her finger touched his forehead, and his eyes closed immediately. He sighed, and went slack against his pillows.
Eowyn's eyes widened at this display.
"What manner of sorcery is this?" she asked, looking askance at Lady Arwen. Arwen simply shrugged.
"It is not sorcery or magic at all--merely an innate ability some of us possess," she said matter-of-factly. "Not unlike Hethlin's gift for talking to Eagles. My brothers and I can all do this, as well as Father, of course. It is a part of our healing gift."
"Do not fear, Eowyn," I reassured her. "Elrohir did it to me once, when I could not sleep. The Prince will have a very restful slumber, and when he awakes tomorrow, will be greatly refreshed. Lord Elrond saved my lord's life--he is hardly likely to send his daughter to hurt him now." She nodded, though she did not look entirely convinced.
"Saved his life, you say? Was he so sorely injured then?"
"It was not the wound that was the problem, but the poison. And aye, it was a close call. Though I would ask you not to let him know you know that, or if you do let it slip, that you did not find it out from me!" Eowyn snorted at that, but let her hand stray to the Prince's cheek for a moment, then looked up at Arwen.
"I am very glad your father saved him, my lady, for he is dear to me already, even though we are not yet kin. And if you had a hand in it, then you have my thanks as well." Arwen nodded graciously.
"I did assist my father somewhat, though he did most of it. As I have come to know the Prince, I too have begun to appreciate him. It has given me great pleasure to assist in his recovery." I stood and stretched and yawned at this point.
"Lady Arwen, does your father think the Prince requires any further care tonight?"
"No, Hethlin, he sent me to tell you to seek your rest." She surveyed the empty cup and wrapper on the table. "He will be pleased that you got him to eat." I turned to Eowyn.
"Have I a room, Eowyn? And I know the hour is late, but would it be possible for me to get a bath?" Arwen suddenly looked a bit wistful.
"I would like to bathe as well, though as Hethlin thought of it first, I will bow to her if the hot water is limited." Eowyn laughed.
"Hot water, my lady, is something we have in plenty! I'll see that both of you are taken care of. If you will give me but a moment," she said to Lady Arwen, "Hethlin's room is here by the Prince's. I will settle her, then take you to yours." Arwen nodded, and Eowyn opened the door for me. It was another room not unlike the Prince's, though somewhat smaller, and a door actually led into the other room, which I had not noticed before from the other side.
"Will this serve?" she asked me, as we stepped inside. She closed the door. "I thought you might need to be close at hand should he ask for you. It was a sitting room, but I had a bed moved up. I did not know that he was ill, but surely this will suffice?"
"It is perfect, Eowyn," I assured her. "Far better than I am used to." With the exception of my room at the Citadel, of course. But then, that had been a temporary thing. "Are you all right?" The White Lady in distraught hostess mode was something I had not encountered before.
"There are so many of them, and I wasn't sure what they would eat! Elrohir and Elladan seem to eat as we do, but then they spend much time around Men. I've been very worried. I tried to bring in all the berries and fruit I could find, thinking they would enjoy such things."
"I'm sure the food was fine," I said soothingly. "A few days ago, we were all supping on wild kine. An interesting flavor, but it certainly gave our jaws some exercise! If the food I ate tonight was sent was from the feast, I can tell you that the Elves were not eating it simply to be polite. But you'd better not keep Lady Arwen waiting any longer." She nodded, and looked back over her shoulder as she opened the door.
"Would you care to go riding tomorrow? We could go out and look at the herds. Brother said you could have a horse if you liked."
"I already have a horse." She grinned suddenly.
"Well, if you hope to be a horse breeder, I have news for you--it takes at least two!" I made a decidedly rude gesture at her, and she laughed. "I'm very glad you were able to come to Edoras, Hethlin, and I'm looking forward to showing you my home tomorrow."
"I am looking forward to it as well, Eowyn. Good night."
"Good night." She went out, and I heard her murmuring to Arwen in the hall, then the sound of footsteps moving away. I opened the door to the Prince's room, checked quietly to see that he was sleeping peacefully, and retrieved my saddlebags. Upon my return, I noticed that my other clothes had been brought up to the room in a traveling chest, and that this included the Elven ones. So, when I had finally done with the very hot bath that had been lugged up the stairs for me by a couple of women who looked as if they swung battle-axes in their spare time, I was able to don the Elven nightgown with my usual feeling of pleasure at its softness, and climb into the fluffy feather bed with the gratitude of one who had had a very long day. Perhaps it was just my surroundings, but my dreams that night echoed with the thunder of many hooves.
The routine we had begun continued. The Prince kept on walking and riding and gaining strength, and I continued my lessons in horsemanship with him. He caught a cold, but was otherwise pleased with my progress, as was the Lord Celeborn, who was still training my mind gifts, and was unruffled even when his lovely robes were mud-spattered. Elladan and Elrohir gave me brief sword lessons in the morning and evening, and though Lord Elrond sometimes looked as if he'd like to plant a sword in my heart, and drop me in a ditch somewhere, in speech to me he was never aught but civil.
The seventh night found us camped a little bit away from the fords of the Entwash. Elrohir and I had scouted ahead, and found the river risen, but the fords still passable, and we returned as dusk fell to report this. Over supper, it was decided to brave the Entwade the next morning, though there was some concern over the horse litter. The Prince then declared that he would ride across, and I told him that if he wished to do so then he could ride Fortune and I would ride Caerith across, for I did not want the grey to indulge himself and roll while the Prince was on his back. The Prince laughed at what he termed my 'masterfulness', started coughing and went to bed early. Lord Elrond, who had a small spirit lamp in his tent, warmed some noxious brews for him, and administered them despite some cleverly worded, diplomatic protestations. We heard no further coughing, or indeed any noise at all from the Lord of Dol Amroth that night.
The next morning, the rain had stopped, but the sky was still grey, and there was no friendly Sun to dry our garments or tents, so we squished somewhat as we packed. The Prince's symptoms seemed much abated by whatever Lord Elrond had given him, but he stayed in the litter at the Elf-lord's insistence, until we reached the ford itself. The water had risen up to the horses' bellies, so everyone pulled their feet up so as to keep their boots dry. My feet got rather wet in the end anyway, since I had to drop my legs to pummel Caerith's ribs as we neared the far side, and I once again contemplated murdering the Prince's favorite war horse. When we got safely across, he took a look at my boots, winced, and traded mounts with me as swiftly as possible.
"You should get back in the litter, sir," I told him. He shook his head.
"I have not had my morning ride yet, Hethlin." Caerith, overjoyed at having his proper master astride him, was dancing in place. Sighing in capitulation, I rode forward, the Prince at my side.
The murmur of the Entwade had scarce faded behind us when it was replaced by the thunder of many hooves. The Prince spoke quickly to the Elven lords and ladies, and the caravan came to a halt as a Rohirric patrol galloped up and drew rein, spears lowered. Imrahil reached into his saddlebags and drew forth King Eomer's parchment, then gestured me to ride forward with him, hand up in token of peace. As the two of us approached, a man who had a horsetail on his helm not unlike Eomer's, though his was chestnut, suddenly barked a command, and the spears were raised.
Prince Imrahil smiled suddenly, and held out his arm, and the captain rode forward and clasped it, speaking Westron with a sonorous Rohirric accent.
"Prince Imrahil. The King sent out word that you might be returning this way."
"Captain Freowald. It's good to see you again."
"And you, sir. It was said you would be in the company of a Gondorian courier and a couple of elves." He surveyed the company, and I could sense eyebrows raising beneath the elaborate runic chasing that surrounded the brow of his helm. "Your elves seem to have multiplied." The Prince chuckled.
"I bring into the Mark such guests as have not graced it in many a year. The Lady Arwen of Imladris rides to Minas Tirith to wed the King Elessar. With her is her father, Lord Elrond of Imladris, and her brothers, the Lords Elladan and Elrohir. Her grandparents, the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood also ride with us, as do such members of both households who wish to attend the ceremony." Captain Freowald cast an assessing glance over the elegant legends who walked the fields of his homeland, and his eyes widened somewhat. I had noticed that the Lady Galadriel could seem majestic or mild as suited her mood, and both she and Lord Celeborn looked somewhat innocuous at the moment. Lord Glorfindel, on the other hand, seemed unable to appear other than tall, glowing and glorious. He truly looked as if he could eat Balrogs, or a troop of Riders for that matter, for breakfast. Then there was Lord Elrond, severely magnificent, his handsome duplicate sons, and Arwen, incredibly lovely even on a grey and unlovely day.
"King Elessar is to wed? This is great news indeed! Is it your intention to pass through Edoras on your way to Minas Tirith, my lord?" the captain asked.
"Yes, we thought we might pay King Eomer a brief visit along the way. I doubt he will be able to leave Edoras to go to the wedding itself after so recently returning, and the Lady Arwen had expressed a wish to meet him," the Prince said mildly. The captain nodded, a bit stunned it seemed. His eyes kept straying in Arwen's direction.
"Indeed, he has been much closeted with his advisors, and that does not look to end any time soon. I am sure he would be grateful for the diversion." With that, Captain Freowald seemed to come to himself of a sudden, and turned his horse, uttering a swift spate of Rohirric to the Riders behind him. One of them immediately wheeled his horse, and urged it into a gallop, heading westward.
"I have sent word back to Edoras of your arrival," the captain told us somewhat unnecessarily. "And you will find a warm welcome when you come there. Had you any trouble on your journey to the Golden Wood, or back?"
"We met a mixed troop of Uruk-hai and Mordor orcs on the Wold, twenty in number, hard by Fangorn on our outward journey. They died," said Prince Imrahil matter-of-factly. Captain Freowald grinned.
"Then you have done the Mark a service, for I have been sent to ride out that way in search of just such a party. Perhaps I'll have a peaceful patrol after all." The Prince shrugged.
"Perhaps, and perhaps not. We do not know if we killed all of them. Apparently there are some caves beneath the Wold in which they were lairing. You may run into trouble yet, Captain." It was the Captain's turn to shrug.
"I'll take whatever fortune I may find, my lord Prince. And if I should find a fight....." he grinned, and I groaned inwardly. The Rohirrim were battle-happy to a man it seemed. "May you journey to Edoras be swift and smooth."
"And your patrol as well, Freowald," Imrahil replied. The two of them clasped hands once more, then Captain Freowald returned to his troop and they cantered off in the direction of the Entwade, lifting their spears in salute as they went.
We returned to the caravan, and Lord Elrond promptly commanded the Prince back into the litter, where he was ordered to remain for the rest of the day. He protested somewhat, but I suspected it was more for form's sake than because he truly wished to keep riding. Lord Elrond again administered his cold remedies, and the Prince slept much of the afternoon away. I missed my horsemanship lesson, for which he apologized at dinner, but he was obviously feeling much better, and was quite his usual witty and personable self over the evening meal. Staying up rather later than had been his wont thus far, he exchanged stories with the Elves until I finally gave up and went to bed, and fell asleep listening to the rise and fall of his well-trained voice.
The next day, the sun came out at last, and we enjoyed three days of fair weather as we traveled to Edoras. We encountered a couple of patrols headed outward as we journeyed, but they merely saluted us without stopping--word had apparently been spread. The inhabitants of the scattered farmsteads we passed watched us warily, some of them from hiding. The legends of the Golden Wood spoke of it as a home of dangerous enchanters or worse, and the farm folk were not eager to draw our attention.
On the evening of the third day, we came around a spur of the White Mountains, and saw Edoras upon a hill at the base of the spur. It was a walled city, as was Minas Tirith, but with a single wall only, a great dike around it and a thorny fence surmounting the wall. A rutted track wound its way up to the city, fording the river, and passing between two rows of mounds, covered with white flowers. As I rode Caerith beside the Prince's litter, he explained that the mounds were the barrows of the Kings of the Mark, and he named the names of the first line of Kings upon the right side, starting with Eorl and ending with Helm, then the second line of kings upon the left, starting with Frealaf, and ending with Thengel.
"It is there that they will barrow Theoden King when he is brought home to the land of his fathers," explained the Prince. "Eomer is Theoden's sister's son, so he will be the first of the third line of Rohirric kings."
At length we came to the gates of the city, which were manned by many men wearing the white and green of the Mark. Two stepped forward, their spears at the ready, and the others sprang up alertly as well.
"Who is it who comes to Edoras with the setting of the sun? Declare yourselves and your errand," they demanded in the Common Tongue. Prince Imrahil swung carefully out of the litter, and walked forward.
"I am Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth, and with me rides the Lady Arwen of Imladris, bride of the King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor, and her household." The spears were immediately lowered, and the tall men smiled.
"You are welcome, lord prince, as are those who accompany you, and are expected by Eomer King. You may leave your good beasts here--we will tend them well. Come within the walls--night is falling, but we have fire and food and drink awaiting you. The King thought that you would arrive this evening." My lord bowed.
"The hospitality of the Mark is legendary."
Lord Elrond spoke to the Elves accompanying us, and all dismounted, the riders of the Elven horses speaking to them in low voices. Saddlebags and other necessities were removed from saddles and pack trees. The gates of Edoras were opened to us, and two of the guard preceded us. We found ourselves upon a broad path paved with flagstones, winding upward to the crown of the hill, upon which sat a great hall with a golden roof. I moved to the Prince's left hand, lest he falter upon the trip upward, for the path was steep. Lord Elrond was at his other hand, his daughter at his side. Behind us came Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, flanked by their grandsons, then Glorfindel and the remainder of the elves, some of them carrying fairly large bundles.
A small stream flowed in a channel beside the path, chuckling as it tumbled down the hill, and I could hear the elves behind me commenting upon it in their sweet voices. Wooden houses with intricately carved eaves rose upon either side of the path. Any late-playing children were whisked inside as we passed, and I could spy faces in many of the windows and doors, regarding us as we made our way upward. There were stairs in places, and though they were broad and shallow, they nonetheless caused the Prince some difficulty. Halfway up the hill, I slipped my arm under his elbow, and he looked over at me with a smile of rueful thanks. Lord Elrond, I noticed, was watching him carefully.
Finally, we reached the crest of the hill, and found a green grassy terrace. There, the spring issued forth from a stone horse's head, and fell into a basin before it began its journey down the hill. The hall known as Meduseld stood upon a great stone platform, and a broad flight of steps led up to it. There were stone seats upon either side of the stairhead, and two very tall guards with drawn swords laid across their knees sat in them. The Prince looked up the stairs, and sighed quietly.
"Let us ascend, Hethlin," he said somewhat dryly, and we started upward. He made it all the way to the top with my help, though he was leaning rather heavily upon me by the time we got there. Our escort spoke to the guards in Rohirric, and they stood, bowed respectfully, and turned the hilts of their swords toward us in token of welcome. One of them spoke to us politely in Westron.
"Our custom it was in time of war to bid all who entered Edoras to leave their weapons without the door. But Eomer King expects you, and names you friends and allies, and declares that you may carry arms within his hall. Please enter--the King is within, and awaits you." With that, he turned to his fellow, and they pushed open the huge, intricately carved doors.
The hall within was rich and magnificent, but in a way far different from the courts of Minas Tirith. There was less stone, and more brilliant color. Intricately carved pillars held up the high roof, and the floor was paved with many colored paving stones, which were also carved in curling, complicated designs--and there were runes in the designs, I thought. I wondered what they meant. Beautiful tapestries hung upon the walls, and in the flickering light of torches lit against the coming dark, the woven figures seemed almost to move. A series of narrow windows high up under the eaves, and the louvered opening of a hearth that stood cold in the center of the hall, showed the purpling blue of the evening sky.
On the southern end of the hall, opposite the doors, was a dais with three steps, and upon the dais was a golden throne, and upon the golden throne was King Eomer, looking rather golden and magnificent himself. A golden circlet with a single white diamond confined his flowing locks, and he was wearing a beautiful deep green tunic, broidered all about the neck and hem and sleeves with a design of running horses, cunningly picked out in gilt threads. A belt of gilded leather spanned his narrow waist and a collar of linked gold plaques, enameled with Rohan's White Horse on Green, and studded with amber and emeralds, rested upon his shoulders.
At his side, in a smaller chair, sat Eowyn, clad in white as was her habit, and her gown too had the gilt horses upon it, and she had a golden girdle of plaques that matched her brother's collar. She looked upon the horde of elves in some amazement, then smiled happily when she saw me, and I smiled back. Eomer's advisors stood ranged behind him on the dais--some of them young men, a few with varying amounts of silver in their golden hair. The Marshall of the Riders was there, and I smiled at him as well, remembering him from Minas Tirith. He nodded a polite acknowledgment.
I had seen Eomer in kingly guise once before, in Aragorn's court, and he had been impressive then, but he was even more so now, in his own place. He and the great hall suited each other, completed each other in some way. He rose, and came down the steps to greet us as we came forward, and I could tell the exact moment when he got a good look at the Lady Arwen's face, for his confident stride faltered for a moment, and his eyes went wide as a boy's. But he recovered himself quickly enough, and greeted us with that blazing smile of his.
"Welcome to Edoras, my lords and ladies! Prince Imrahil, please name to me these notables who grace my hall." The Prince nodded.
"King Eomer, I present to you Lord Elrond of Imladris, and his daughter, the Lady Arwen of Imladris. She is King Elessar's betrothed." Eomer grasped Lord Elrond's arm in a forthright warrior's clasp, which I suspect startled him slightly. It was always hard to tell with him, but his eyebrow did shoot up.
"Even my folk have legends about the wisdom of the Lord of Imladris. Welcome to my hall, Lord Elrond." Lord Elrond inclined his head graciously. Eomer released him, and turned his attention to Arwen, whose hand he took much more gently.
"Aragorn I count as my beloved brother, lady, and it gladdens my heart to know that I now have such a lovely sister. Would that I could attend your wedding," and that was said so fervently that I almost laughed, "but I fear that my own realm is somewhat unsettled still, and requires my attention." Arwen smiled her lovely, serene smile.
"Estel wrote me of what a valiant warrior you were, my lord, but he neglected to tell me of how courteous and well-spoken you are." Eomer flushed slightly under her regard.
"Thank you, my lady." I saw the Prince's lips twitch momentarily, and then he ushered Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel forward.
"The Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel of Lorien. The Lords Elladan and Elrohir you already know."
"Indeed," said Eomer, giving them a polite nod. He seemed much more confident about confronting them here in his own palace. The twins flashed identical grins. Lord Celeborn reached for Eomer's arm even as the King reached for his, and I thought I saw a look of surprise flash across Eomer's face at the strength of that slender limb.
"We are neighbors, Lord of the Mark, though it be from afar," Lord Celeborn said in his quiet way, "I am very glad to meet you."
"And I you, my lord," Eomer replied readily enough, though something in his expression led me to believe that he might be having a moment such as I'd experienced once or twice, where the enormous age and experience of the Elf you were casually speaking to suddenly became apparent. But he was nothing if not bold, and he hesitated not in the least as he turned to the Lady Galadriel and took her hand in his.
"My people also have legends about the beauty of the Lady of the Golden Wood," he said, diplomatically leaving out the fact that most of those legends painted her as a witch or evil sorceress. Lady Galadriel's eyes met his, and they stared at each other silently for a moment. Lord Celeborn glanced at his wife quickly, then looked away. Finally, the lady dropped her eyes, and Eomer shook himself as if he'd been woolgathering. Lady Galadriel smiled the sweetest smile I'd ever seen her make, and her low voice was smooth as honey when she spoke.
"I remember the day your folk rode from the North. We watched the battle from the borders of Lorien, for we feared if the Gondorrim fell, we would have to battle the orcs and Easterlings beneath the boughs of the forest. When Eorl had the victory on the field of Celebrant, we were gladdened as well. You have the look of your forefather about you, and that is fitting--that Rohan should have another young king to lead her into a new age." There was an approving murmur from his councilors, and Eomer himself seemed very moved by this speech, and inclined his head respectfully.
"Thank you, my lady." He was then introduced to Glorfindel, and they made quite the picture when seen together--the glowing, golden elf-lord, and the glowing, golden mortal king. They took to each other right away, and I smiled at the prospect of wargames being played with the food at the high table.
Eomer in his turn introduced first Eowyn, then his councilors to everyone, and as he did so, servants began to file into the hall. In short order trestles, tables and chairs were set up, cloths spread upon the tables, table settings laid, glasses and pitchers of ale and wine made ready and dishes and platters full of roasted meats and other savory food set out. We stood and chatted amongst ourselves as this was done, save for Eowyn, who moved amidst all the activity, issuing quiet orders. I was surprised to notice that though most of the servants did her bidding quickly, one or two seemed resentful or angry, and I wondered what had caused this animosity.
The Prince, usually so sociable, actually withdrew to the edge of the crowd, and I followed him. He had made his way to one of the massive pillars, and was leaning against it, when all the color suddenly drained from his face. Concerned, I took his arm, and could feel his whole body shivering.
"My lord," I murmured quietly, knowing he would not want a fuss made, "are you well?"
"I'm a bit dizzy, Hethlin," he admitted softly. "That climb up the hill.....if I could just sit down for a moment or two, I think I would be all right." I started to suggest that he could probably sit upon the dais stairs or at the table, even though they were still setting it, when his eyes rolled up in his head, and he made a small, protesting noise. He let go of the pillar, and made a blind clutch at my shoulder as he went down, and I went down with him, so as to keep him from harming himself upon the stone floor. We ended up with him sprawled unconscious across my lap, his head cradled safely upon my shoulder.
His collapse could hardly go unnoticed, and quite a hubbub started. I heard Eomer's voice exclaim, "Imrahil!", and then Lord Elrond was there, as if he'd suddenly materialized out of nothing. He stooped and laid hands upon my lord's forehead and throat for a long moment.
"What happened?" he asked me coolly.
"He came over here, and leaned against the pillar. When I asked him what was wrong, he said he felt dizzy, and needed to sit down. Then he fainted. He will be all right, won't he?" I asked beseechingly. The thought of being in fear for his life again was very unpleasant. Lord Elrond's answer, however, was quite calm.
"He has simply overtaxed himself. The walk up the hill.....and he was upon his feet for far too long. I should have insisted these people make some accommodation for him, but he did not want that. Too much bother, he said. He was feeling well enough to go on, he said. A very persuasive man, but I think in the future I shall keep firmly in mind who is the patient and who the healer." I looked up to find Eomer and Eowyn both looking down at us with great concern, as well as a circle of spectators comprised of the elves, the councilors, and the odd servant. It was as well, I thought, that the Prince was not awake--he would not have enjoyed being the center of attention in this way.
"What ails the Prince?" the King of Rohan inquired.
"He suffered a poisoned arrow wound upon the way to Lorien," Lord Elrond replied. "And has yet to fully recover. He has been traveling with us in a horse litter, and did too much this day. He should feel better tomorrow, given rest and quiet. I require a room for him, and the means to bear him there."
"My lord, you already possess the means to bear him whither you would," said Lord Glorfindel, and he stepped forward, knelt, and scooped up the prince as if he were naught but a small child. Lord Elrond smiled at his tall, blonde friend, and Eowyn stepped forward.
"If you will come with me, my lords, I will show you to the room that has been prepared for him," she said, and turned, and led us from the hall through a smaller door at the rear of the dais. We walked down a set of rather steep stairs to a fair, wooden house that stood to the rear of Meduseld. There was a smaller hall within the house, which had two stories, and bedrooms upon the upper level. Glorfindel, seemingly tireless, bore the Prince without complaint up the stairs to a large and pleasant room that Eowyn showed us. It was paneled and floored in wood, the only stone being the hearth upon which an unlit fire was laid. Beautifully woven hangings adorned the walls, and the bed the Lord Glorfindel laid the Prince upon was massive and intricately carved, with a huge feather tick. Candles in sconces upon the walls lit the room, and there was a bronze bell upon a small table beside the bed.
"Ring this if you wish for anything. There are servants here in the house," Eowyn told us.. Lord Elrond nodded his thanks, and checked the pitcher at the washstand to see if it was full.
"My lady, our thanks for your assistance. Glorfindel, would you be so kind as to escort the Lady Eowyn back to her guests? Lady Hethlin and I can manage things from here." Eowyn gave the Prince a last, troubled look, and me a worried smile, then turned to the Elf-lord, and took the arm he proffered her. As they exited, I turned to the Prince and began pulling his boots off. Lord Elrond began unbuckling his sword, and removing his tunic. I hesitated before unfastening his breeches, and Lord Elrond gave me an inquiring look.
"He does not usually allow me to serve him in this way," I explained, and the Lord of Imladris made a noise that sounded very like a snort to me.
"He is hardly in a position to protest now, is he?" The tone of his voice said to me that he thought I was being a silly girl, so I stripped my lord of his breeches and stockings, and helped to tuck him into the bed without further protest.
"What do we do now?" I asked when we had finished arranging him comfortably.
"There is really nothing to do. He is still in the swoon, rather than truly asleep. He may lapse into slumber, or he may wake briefly. If he does so, he should try to eat and drink a little--that was part of his problem as well, I think. That is all that truly needs to be done."
"If that is the case," I said somewhat hesitantly, "why don't you return to the feast, my lord? You are one of the great folk, and should be there. I could sit with him, and coax him to eat if he wakes up. I have no skill in healing, but I could manage that much. And I am his esquire--it is my place to care for him." Lord Elrond gave me a keen-eyed look, then nodded after a moment.
"Indeed. I believe I shall go and eat. I will have the servants bring food up for you, Lady Hethlin, and I will have one of my household bring a cake of lembas and a cordial up for the Prince. Should he awake, give him those things--they will restore him more quickly than any mortal food. If he is still hungry after that, which I very much doubt he will be, he may eat as he chooses. I will return before retiring to look in upon him." I nodded my understanding, and stood and bowed as he left the room.
When the door had closed behind him, I unbuckled my sword belt, removed my helm and shrugged out of my hauberk and gambeson. There was an armor rack in the corner, and I hung them there--the Prince's mail was stowed among the baggage at present, and I didn't think he would mind. Finding one of those carved chairs beside a small table, I pulled it over close to the bed, and settled in. Shortly after that, one of the Imladris elves came in, bearing my saddlebags, the Prince's, a flask, cup and wrapped cake of the lembas. He presented them to me, bowed, and departed without a word. Then a Rohirric servant brought me some supper--a plentiful sampling of what they were eating in the Golden Hall. I had just finished my meal, and was wiping my mouth, when I heard a stirring from the bed beside me. The Prince's glance was moving weakly about the room, and finally came to rest on me.
"Tell me I didn't faint in front of Eomer and everyone, Hethlin," he murmured. I smiled.
"I would sir, but I thought you encouraged your esquires to tell the truth." He groaned, and I chuckled. "You were very polite and quiet about it, if that makes you feel any better."
"It does not."
"Lord Elrond left you some things to eat and drink." He grimaced.
"He would."
"These are nice things, for a change." I assisted him to sit up, and when he had done so, presented him with the lembas on a plate and a cup of the cordial. His hands were still shaky, so I helped him at first, but after he'd had a few sips and mouthfuls, he was able to eat and drink on his own. As usual, he was embarrassed by his helplessness, so I tried to be matter-of-fact as possible. He looked as if he felt much better when he had eaten--remembering the invigorating effect of the lembas Lord Celeborn had given me, I was not surprised. Knowing how much he hated to be untidy, I got his soap out of the saddlebags, poured a basin of water and helped him wash his face and hands, then produced his comb, and set to work upon his hair.
"Hethlin, you do not have to do this," he protested, as I began to work the tangles out. His hair was longer, and far better behaved than his nephew's, which seemed to have a contrary will of its own.
"Who is going to help you with this if not your esquire?" I asked him tartly.
"Lord Elrond will, or Lady Arwen," he replied, though he was beginning to relax beneath my hand.
"And why is Lady Arwen permitted to assist you with such things, and not me?" To my surprise, he looked genuinely taken aback for a moment.
"I suppose there is no difference, at that," he said at last. "Thank you for your help." I had just finished combing it out when a quiet knock came at the door, and it cracked open. Two heads peeked in, one black, one blonde. The Prince smiled.
"Ladies! Do come in!" Lady Arwen and Eowyn both slipped into the room, and Imrahil settled back against his pillows with a pleased look. "It appears that all the fairest flowers are gracing my room tonight. I shall have to swoon more often." Eowyn came forward and embraced him, her cheek against his.
"I was worried for you, uncle. Do tell me that you are feeling better now." He patted her shoulder reassuringly.
"I am much better now, Eowyn--I merely overdid things a bit. Give me a good night's sleep, and I will be ready to look at your lovely horses." Arwen shook her head.
"Father says to tell you that you are staying in bed tomorrow. We remain in Edoras tomorrow, the day after and possibly the day after that, depending upon how you feel." Imrahil looked at her, distraught.
"Lady, I do not wish to make you late for your wedding!" Arwen merely smiled.
"We can afford two, or even three days delay, and still reach Minas Tirith on time. But see that you do as my father says, my lord, so that we do not need more than that." The Prince nodded, somewhat chastened, and Arwen moved to the side of the bed. "Father wishes for you to get a good night's sleep tonight, but as he is engaged in a deep discussion with the King and his advisors, and Grandmother and Grandfather, he asked me to see to it." And before the Prince could protest further, her finger touched his forehead, and his eyes closed immediately. He sighed, and went slack against his pillows.
Eowyn's eyes widened at this display.
"What manner of sorcery is this?" she asked, looking askance at Lady Arwen. Arwen simply shrugged.
"It is not sorcery or magic at all--merely an innate ability some of us possess," she said matter-of-factly. "Not unlike Hethlin's gift for talking to Eagles. My brothers and I can all do this, as well as Father, of course. It is a part of our healing gift."
"Do not fear, Eowyn," I reassured her. "Elrohir did it to me once, when I could not sleep. The Prince will have a very restful slumber, and when he awakes tomorrow, will be greatly refreshed. Lord Elrond saved my lord's life--he is hardly likely to send his daughter to hurt him now." She nodded, though she did not look entirely convinced.
"Saved his life, you say? Was he so sorely injured then?"
"It was not the wound that was the problem, but the poison. And aye, it was a close call. Though I would ask you not to let him know you know that, or if you do let it slip, that you did not find it out from me!" Eowyn snorted at that, but let her hand stray to the Prince's cheek for a moment, then looked up at Arwen.
"I am very glad your father saved him, my lady, for he is dear to me already, even though we are not yet kin. And if you had a hand in it, then you have my thanks as well." Arwen nodded graciously.
"I did assist my father somewhat, though he did most of it. As I have come to know the Prince, I too have begun to appreciate him. It has given me great pleasure to assist in his recovery." I stood and stretched and yawned at this point.
"Lady Arwen, does your father think the Prince requires any further care tonight?"
"No, Hethlin, he sent me to tell you to seek your rest." She surveyed the empty cup and wrapper on the table. "He will be pleased that you got him to eat." I turned to Eowyn.
"Have I a room, Eowyn? And I know the hour is late, but would it be possible for me to get a bath?" Arwen suddenly looked a bit wistful.
"I would like to bathe as well, though as Hethlin thought of it first, I will bow to her if the hot water is limited." Eowyn laughed.
"Hot water, my lady, is something we have in plenty! I'll see that both of you are taken care of. If you will give me but a moment," she said to Lady Arwen, "Hethlin's room is here by the Prince's. I will settle her, then take you to yours." Arwen nodded, and Eowyn opened the door for me. It was another room not unlike the Prince's, though somewhat smaller, and a door actually led into the other room, which I had not noticed before from the other side.
"Will this serve?" she asked me, as we stepped inside. She closed the door. "I thought you might need to be close at hand should he ask for you. It was a sitting room, but I had a bed moved up. I did not know that he was ill, but surely this will suffice?"
"It is perfect, Eowyn," I assured her. "Far better than I am used to." With the exception of my room at the Citadel, of course. But then, that had been a temporary thing. "Are you all right?" The White Lady in distraught hostess mode was something I had not encountered before.
"There are so many of them, and I wasn't sure what they would eat! Elrohir and Elladan seem to eat as we do, but then they spend much time around Men. I've been very worried. I tried to bring in all the berries and fruit I could find, thinking they would enjoy such things."
"I'm sure the food was fine," I said soothingly. "A few days ago, we were all supping on wild kine. An interesting flavor, but it certainly gave our jaws some exercise! If the food I ate tonight was sent was from the feast, I can tell you that the Elves were not eating it simply to be polite. But you'd better not keep Lady Arwen waiting any longer." She nodded, and looked back over her shoulder as she opened the door.
"Would you care to go riding tomorrow? We could go out and look at the herds. Brother said you could have a horse if you liked."
"I already have a horse." She grinned suddenly.
"Well, if you hope to be a horse breeder, I have news for you--it takes at least two!" I made a decidedly rude gesture at her, and she laughed. "I'm very glad you were able to come to Edoras, Hethlin, and I'm looking forward to showing you my home tomorrow."
"I am looking forward to it as well, Eowyn. Good night."
"Good night." She went out, and I heard her murmuring to Arwen in the hall, then the sound of footsteps moving away. I opened the door to the Prince's room, checked quietly to see that he was sleeping peacefully, and retrieved my saddlebags. Upon my return, I noticed that my other clothes had been brought up to the room in a traveling chest, and that this included the Elven ones. So, when I had finally done with the very hot bath that had been lugged up the stairs for me by a couple of women who looked as if they swung battle-axes in their spare time, I was able to don the Elven nightgown with my usual feeling of pleasure at its softness, and climb into the fluffy feather bed with the gratitude of one who had had a very long day. Perhaps it was just my surroundings, but my dreams that night echoed with the thunder of many hooves.