Author's Note: Again, many thanks to those reviewers following the story. Am particularly glad you like Fromas…

Chapter Twelve –

Arlannis woke to darkness and the smell of herbs. 'Fromas?' she whispered, 'Are you there?'

'Shhhhhhh!,' came the reply and her elven eyesight made out the old healer frantically flapping his hands, signalling her to keep quiet. She complied, but noiselessly slid to a sitting position and then off the small cot.

Crawling quietly to where Fromas sat on his haunches anxiously staring upwards, she reached for his hand. She was rewarded by a cut off shriek as Fromas jolted away from her in surprise. It was then she realised that while her eyes could see perfectly well, Fromas was as good as blind in the darkness.

'I'm sorry, Fromas,' she whispered, contritely, 'it's only me.'

Fromas clutched at his chest and sank back down to the ground. 'That's alright, my dear. I enjoy a little fright every now and then. Keeps the heart young, that's what I say,' he replied in a voice barely above a whimper, 'mine feels barely out of swaddling clothes thanks to you!'

'What's happening?' asked Arlannis.

'Eomer has been taken by the foul Wormtongue and now they search for you, my dear,' answered Fromas, succinctly, 'but for the love of all that's fair in the world, please remain silent. We may yet escape them if they do not think to search for us down here.'

Arlannis squeezed his arm in agreement and together they listened as muffled thumps and voices floated down to them until eventually there was silence.

'Where are we, Fromas?' asked Arlannis when the quiet had persisted for more than a few moments.

'We are beneath my healer's room, in a small cellar I use to store my more valuable medicines,' he answered, 'I dug it myself many years ago when I was younger and stronger and told no-one. For,' he continued with a twinkle in his eye, 'what good is a secret store if everyone knows of it?'

'What good indeed,' said Arlannis with no little admiration in her voice, 'you are a wise one, Fromas. You remind me of a wizard I once knew.'

'High praise indeed,' said Fromas, 'but time is short and in truth, I am no wizard. I wish I was, for then I could be of far more aid to you and Eomer.'

'You said he had been taken by Wormtongue,' prompted Arlannis, 'who is he? And why would Theoden let his own nephew be imprisoned?'

'Just a moment, my dear,' said Fromas, 'I feel the need for a little light. Talking to a disembodied voice in the dark is quite unsettling and besides, I want to have a look at you now that you're awake.'

Arlannis waited impatiently as Fromas located by touch the flint and torch and then took an age to light it. The room flared to life as the flame finally caught and began to burn steadily. Shelves and a small cot and jars upon jars of herbs and medicines were now visible and Fromas blinked as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. 'Sit upon the cot, my dear,' he ordered, 'let me have a quick look at you.'

Arlannis did as she was bid and wondered what to expect. She remembered all too well her experience at the hands of the Orcs and though she did not feel any residual pain from her wounds, she could not help but wonder what lay beneath all the dressings. She had always been a swift healer thanks to her elven heritage but then she had never before been captured by Orcs.

The last of the bandages fell from her face and she heard Fromas sigh.

'What is it?' she asked, half-afraid of the answer.

'You are truly remarkable,' said Fromas, admiringly, 'I wish all my patients healed as you do, fast and clean.'

Arlannis cautiously put a hand up to her face and felt the left side tentatively. The Orc's blade had scored her flesh deeply there, but now only a slight ridge of scar tissue met her fingertips. She passed her hand over her ear and winced as she failed to encounter the familiar elongated tip.

Fromas grimaced in sympathy with her, 'I'm sorry, my dear,' he said gently, 'the ear was gone when you came to me. There was nothing I could do.'

'At least it doesn't hurt,' said Arlannis, ruefully, 'and at least I still live. If Eomer and his men had not come when they did I would not. Thank you for what you did for me, Fromas, you truly are a healer of great skill.'

Fromas smiled at this but only said, 'We should take a look at your other injuries, my dear, just to make sure all is going as it should.'

Arlannis submitted as Fromas unwound the dressings around her body. 'Tell me of this Wormtongue, Fromas,' she asked.

'Ahhhh, Wormtongue is a poison,' answered Fromas bitterly, 'and a curse upon us all. He has somehow wriggled his way into becoming the King's closest advisor and now our sovereign does as this black snake counsels.'

'And do all in Edoras feel as you do about him?' asked Arlannis.

'A lot, yes, but there are always those that will follow the power wherever it resides and now it resides with Wormtongue,' said Fromas in answer, 'that's the nature of mortal men, I'm afraid.'

'What has happened to Eomer?' Arlannis continued.

'He's been imprisoned for speaking against the black snake,' said Fromas, 'they've made that a crime since he was last here.'

'Did Eomer leave any message for me, Fromas? It would not be like him to be taken unawares, he would have had warning of his fate,' said Arlannis.

'You have the right of it, my dear,' said the healer, 'just turn onto your stomach for me so I can unravel the last of these dressings. Where was I? Oh yes, Eomer. He did come to see me earlier today just before he was taken. He told me to give you your sword and to tell you that Aragorn would be coming for you.'

Arlannis sat up abruptly and Fromas rolled his eyes as the dressings were torn into tatters at her sudden movement. 'Oh yes, thank you very much,' he said, 'I could have boiled them up to be used again, but not now.'

'Aragorn is coming? Then we are saved, Fromas,' Arlannis exclaimed, 'we just have to hold fast until my brother arrives.'

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It was a bright morning outside, but in the Hall the hangings were draped thickly and gloom hung heavily upon the people of Edoras.

Fromas fidgeted anxiously within the voluminous confines of his dark green cloak, shivering as he caught a glimpse of the Hall's dim interior, and cursed himself for agreeing to Arlannis' plan.

'There are two tasks to accomplish, Fromas,' she had told him in the cellar, 'I must free Eomer lest some evil befall him in Wormtongue's care and you must keep watch until Aragorn comes. For he will put all to rights. You must tell me the instant he sets foot in Edoras.'

'But Wormtongue's men are looking for me,' he'd protested, 'they will surely pounce in an instant if they catch me outside!'

'Oh, I'm sure you have ways of passing un-noticed when you want too, Fromas,' she had answered. They had argued back and forth but he had ended up keeping watch outside the King's hall while she sought out Eomer in his cell.

'Alas, for I am not born to intrigue,' he thought forlornly when his heart had recovered from the curious stare of a guard on the Hall's stone steps. 'I wish her brother would make haste before I expire from fright!'

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Arlannis followed the instructions Fromas had given her to reach the cells. The timber building was sturdy and well manned, but her skills of concealment were advanced and the cloak of Lorien gave her a hitherto unknown advantage. The guards never knew that a Ranger of the North walked past them at will. Arlannis stopped to listen at each of the cells until she heard Eomer's voice. He was humming quietly to himself but to Arlannis' hearing it was as good as shouting aloud. She rapped sharply on the wooden door and waited.

'Who scruples to knock on a prisoner's door?' came Eomer's voice.

'A friend, not a jailer,' she replied quietly.

'Arlannis!' he exclaimed, 'You are recovered?'

'Yes, my friend,' she said, 'and now it is time to recover you.'

'The door is stout,' said Eomer, doubtfully, 'how shall you break it?'

He had his answer when the door swung silently inwards and Arlannis was revealed holding a master key in her hand.

'Fromas?' guessed Eomer and she nodded.

Eomer's expression fought a battle between relief and chagrin.

'Do not treat him harshly, Eomer,' said Arlannis, 'he was so worried when he gave me this. The last thing he wanted was to have your wrath loosed upon him.'

Eomer stifled a chuckle and said 'What wrath? He has healed you and freed me and so all sins shall be forgiven. Though in truth he is a rascal!'

They did not linger but locked the cell door behind them and made a quiet escape from the prison house.

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