Chapter 12


As soon as her fingers wrapped around his, Éoden exhaled softly, the breath he'd been holding finally released. With a reassuring smile, he tightened his grip on her hand, her small one rough against his palm. This surprised him. So beautiful a creature should have soft hands, he reasoned. But, of course, she had been living in the wild. And who was he to complain? The Gods knew his hands were as calloused as any.

With this grip established, he pulled her to her feet and smoothly tucked her hand under his arm. His other hand held open the tentflap for them as he led her out of what had been her sanctuary during the night. He watched her face in wonder as her eyes widened, taking in the sight of the camp in a rush.

He wondered, momentarily, if she was frightened. But no, of course she was not. Her entire face was shining in delight, her lips parted in an astonished gasp. In vain, he searched for the source of her amazement, but saw only his men going about their usual duties. Tents which had been built the previous afternoon were swiftly disassembled, and all remaining supplies were packed into rucksacks and pouches. Nothing new to be seen here.

But, to someone who had never before witnessed army life, this frenetic packing and preparing to leave would indeed be a sight.

"Sir?" Again, Haled approached, his voice slightly uncertain at seeing the enigmatic woman.

"Good morning, Haled!" Éoden said cheerfully. "Is there something I might help you with, my friend?"

"Sir, I want only to ask permission to take down the lady's tent."

"Of course Haled, of course! And see to it that this tent is always prepared for her."

A brisk nod was the young soldier's reply before he turned and walked stiffly toward the tent.

"Shall I show you the camp, my lady?" Éoden asked the woman holding his arm, but she merely stared at Haled's retreating back.

"I will not lie to you," Éoden said softly to her after allowing her a moment of silence, "Haled is wary of you, as is most of the camp. They know nothing of you; where you came from, what your name is, why you were in the forest. In truth, I wonder these things myself."

Her eyes left Haled to peer into Éoden's, and they were vaguely sad, even haunted. Something told him that she would not answer his unspoken questions, that she would not speak no matter how he tried to coax words from her lips.

Still, she was attempting to speak to him, even if only through her eyes. Those luminous gray orbs captured him and refused to let go, pouring her emotions through them, into him until he felt saturated with this dull pain. It was like a memory of previous sadness.

Her stare was paralyzing, but she was unwavering in it, until a playful breeze whipped the waist-length strands of her hair into her face, blocking her view. Annoyed, she swept the hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ears. Ears that were pointed, he noticed with a start.

An Elf! That certainly changed things. This was no mere wandering girl, she was one of the Beautiful Ones, the Blessed of the Valar. No telling, now, how old she was or where she came from. The mysteries of the Elves were timeless. And lost. After the War of the Ring, the Elves had left Middle-Earth. Why was this woman left behind?

Aware of his shocked expression, the cream of her skin turned a soft shade of embarassed pink. But, ever considerate, he chose not to ask her of her heritage. Instead, he pretended as though it was her odd state of dress which brought the sudden smile to his face.

"The first thing we must do upon our return to Edoras is find you something more appropriate to wear, he said chuckling.

His diversion from her embarassment proved successful. She took a step back, letting go of his arm and spread her arms wide, demonstrating the ridiculous size of the clothing. The wool shirt hung to her knees and the sleeves dangled far past her fingertips. The thick riding breeches, meant to be tight, sagged around her, forcing her to continually pull them up.

"I am sorry, my lady," he laughed, "but I could not have you catching a cold in your own damp dress. In Edoras, we will have gowns made for you."

He paused, suddenly, realizing that he had not asked the woman if she wished to accompany them back to the city. He had planned it without her acquiescence. He'd gone so far as to cut short their scouting party so as to spirit her to his beloved land. Surely King Éomer would be forgiving once he understood Éoden's reasoning.

But all of this would be meaningless if she wanted only to return to the forest.

"Lady, I must again beg your forgiveness," he said, tucking her arm under his again. " I have come near to planning a new life for you without ever asking if it was a life you wanted. Do you wish to join us? Would you like to become a part of the Rohirrim?"

He knew she would not answer with speech, but the minutes stretched to the breaking point, and still she made no attempt to convey a response. Her eyes darted left and right, nervously, not settling on any one sight in the camp, including Éoden. In fact, her stare seemed to want to settle on anything but the patient man who steadily awaited her answer. The hand on his arm trembled noticeably, clenching and unclenching in the heavy red fabric of his shirt, but still she did not answer.

Wanting to quell any fears she might have, he finally spoke, "You have nothing to fear in traveling with us, my lady. My men pose no danger to you, I promise that. Maybe you fear being unwelcome? But again, I assure you, we would be honored if you would join us. And once at Edoras, you will find that the king is as hospitable as any man." Slowly, he exhaled, realizing that he had been talking in a rush.

"Forgive me for pressuring you, my lady. But, the idea of leaving you to these woods is unbearable. Please, accompany us back to Edoras."

He made no move to press her further, confident that he'd said enough. If she was not assured now of her safety and welcome, there was little more he could do to convince her in coming.

Slowly, her hand stopped trembling and her eyes at last steadied to his. They were still filled with uncertainty, moist with what seemed like unshed tears. Softly exhaling through her nose, she broke eye contact and opened her mouth as if to speak. But, just as he could feel the words building up from her chest, she clamped her lips closed, effectively dampening his excitement at hearing her voice.

Instead, she reassuringly squeezed his arm and turned to nod in assent.

Pleased immensely, he smiled a genuine smile of pure happiness.

"The road back to Edoras will be long, my lady, but I will do my best to make it comfortable for you," he said, joy in his voice.

Her only response was to expel her breath rapidly through her nose, an undignified snort.

Chuckling softly, he said, "Forgive me. You need not be coddled. I know not how long you've been wandering these woods. Perhaps you have more endurance than some of my men."

She nodded and then paused, taking a step back. Her eyes lit with merriment and she let go of his arm, turning a slow circle, with her head thrown back to the sky. The gentle breeze strengthened into a heavy wind, flinging her dark tresses upward. She made no move to smooth them, as he watched her take in the beauty of the day. Perhaps the idea of leaving the woods excited her? Perhaps she was bidding a joyous farewell to her home?

Whatever the reason for the sudden display, Éoden rejoiced in it, happy to see the somber maiden shed her melancholy countenance for a new, contented one.

Silently, he prayed that he could help her keep her newfound happiness, protect her from any pain. He prayed for the strength to help her. He'd promised her safety; there was no choice now but to do all he could to deliver on that promise.

Sighing, he peered up at the sky, deciding the hour by the position of the sun. "We must away, lady. The day grows late and the camp is packed," he said, interrupting her reverie.

Slowly, she lowered her face from the sky and turned to him, nodding. She took a step in his direction, stopped to yank on the oversized pants, and continued toward a now-laughing Éoden.

Her eyes and her stance displayed readiness and a hopeful excitement. His only wish, as he led her toward his waiting soldiers, was that her journey would prove satisfactory to her hopes. He was taking her from the home she'd always known. What if Rohan proved to be a source of disquiet and upset?

The soldiers awaiting their captain looked wary but accepting of the woman. Their trust in Éoden overshadowed any uneasiness they felt as their new guest, a guest who wore their uniform and walked among them back to the Golden Hall, back to their King, joined them.

No time for suspicion and questions, though, for the road lay ahead, the journey awaited its beginning.