I heard the voices first. Human voices, I couldn't make out what they were saying though. Suddenly the huge weight pressing down on me was lifted, and bright sunlight hit my eyes, making me screw them up quickly.
I heard an exclamation of surprise, then Skrakrut's corpse was dropped back on top of me. I couldn't help letting out a groan of pain, which made several other men run over. I felt the orc body being lifted off again, cautiously this time, and a steel blade was pressed to my throat.
"Who are you?" came a voice. "What were you doing with the orcs?"
I opened my eyes to see several men standing over me. The Riders. They were tall with pale blond hair flowing from under their helmets. A couple were holding spears, all were wearing burnished mail shirts. They didn't look friendly.
"I asked you a question!" The rider holding the sword to my throat was getting impatient. He was kneeling next to me in the long grass, the others standing a few steps back.
I tried to speak, my voice came as a low croak.
"The orcs attacked us... They killed.. they killed my beloved."
Tears filled my eyes once more. "They.. they took me prisoner. Please.. please help me." I stretched out my arms so that the riders could see how tightly I was bound. Sympathy appeared on their faces, and the sword pressure at my throat was relaxed.
"Who are you?" The rider at my side sounded more gentle.
I clumsily tried to brush the strands of hair from my eyes so I could see them better.
I heard a slight gasp of surprise as my ears were revealed.
"You're an elf?" One of the riders cried in surprise.
The rider at my side instantly drew a dagger and started to cut through the tight rope binding my hands together.
"Éothain! What are you doing!" Another man strode up, a white horsetail flowing as a crest from his helm. I recognised him as the leader who had fought Uglúk sword to sword. The man kneeling at my side looked up at his leader.
"I am releasing the orcs' prisoner, lord Éomer" he said.
Éomer looked at me suspiciously.
"The orcs don't take prisoners. They kill them instead. Who are you? Why didn't they kill you?"
Éothain cut through the last strands and helped me to sit up. I rubbed my sore wrists tenderly and worked out what to say.
"My name is Sardwen, daughter of Elrond of Imla... of Rivendell" I said, correcting myself to a name they might know.
"Elves." Éomer spat. "Everyone knows you can't trust elves. Were you working with the orcs?" I glared at him angrily.
"They killed the man I love. Do you really think I would be working with them!"
To my horror I realised that I was crying again. In front of strangers! I couldn't help it. I had concentrated every effort on surviving the orcs, I had never had the chance to grieve properly. It suddenly struck me like the blow of a cave troll, I had lost Boromir for ever.
I sobbed uncontrollably. Éomer looked embarrassed and strode off to supervise the piling of the orc corpses ready for burning. Éothain supported me sympathetically, I soaked his shoulder, cursing myself for being so weak and pathetic.
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Éomer strode back over to me. By now I had subsided to gulps, sniffs and hiccups.
"Shall we try again?" he asked coldly. "Tears don't impress me, anyone can cry. Dragons do it all the time, I've been told. Then as soon as you feel sorry for them, they attack."
I glared at him through my puffy red eyes and stayed silent.
"For goodness sake, hasn't she been through enough already!" A voice came from beside me. I stared in surprise, Éothain was standing up for me, even after I'd soaked his shoulder.
"She's told you who she is and what she's doing here, can't you leave her alone?"
A deathly silence followed this comment. Other riders stared at Éothain in horror.
The punishment for insubordination was obviously serious amongst these people. Éomer glared down at him.
"I will ignore that attack on my authority, on the grounds that you have been a good friend for many years and are obviously currently besotted with the girl. If it happens again, there will be no such excuse. Is that clear?"
Éothain glared at the ground and nodded briefly.
"I am surprised at you Éothain." Éomer continued. "What happened to your rational thinking? Have you ever.. in your entire experience.. heard of orcs taking a single woman prisoner?"
Éothain had to shake his head in defeat.
"Exactly" Éomer sounded triumphant. "And we only have her word to conflict our years of experience" he looked at me suspiciously.
"No" he continued. "I don't believe her story. I think that she was working with the orcs, working with... Saruman"
I gaped in surprise. Surely he didn't really believe that, did he?
"But they tied me up!" I cried. "look at my wrists." I held them out to him, red and raw. Éomer gave them a customary glance, then shrugged.
"Deception." he declared. "When you realised that we were going to wipe out the orcs, you were intelligent enough to work out your escape plan. Did your comrades look surprised when you asked them to bind you, or were they too stupid to realise what you were doing."
"It's not true!" I protested desperately as all the other Riders started to look at me suspiciously too.
"It was a good plan." Éomer concluded his speech, confident that all his men were now on his side.
"All my men were besotted with you." he glanced meaningfully at Éothain. "If it hadn't been for me, they would have released you to cause more havoc."
That was partly true. If it hadn't been for Éomer, son of Éomund I would have been set free. I glared at him, mentally adding his name to my blacklist.
"Gather the horses" Éomer ordered his men. "We ride now to Edoras. Théoden king shall decide what to do with the traitor."
I was hauled to my feet and dragged to the horses. Éothain came towards me holding two horses by the bridles.
"I assume you can ride?" he asked. I thought back to the horse in the stables at Imladris, and the horse that had stubbornly refused to obey my orders on the way to Lothlórien.
"Not... that well" I said at last. Éothain looked surprised.
"I thought that elves had a natural ability when it came to horses" he said.
I managed a slight smile.
"Let's just say that sometimes... certain elvish gifts don't get passed down" I replied.
He looked at me and laughed.
"You'd better ride behind me then."
It took me three attempts to get on the back of the horse. When I finally succeeded, I glanced around at the burning pile of orc bodies. There was no sign of Merry and Pippin. Either they had managed to escape last night, or their bodies were hidden in the middle of the pile. Either way, there was nothing I could do to help them.
I looked back into the dark depths of Fangorn Forest as the horses started to canter down the hill. Wherever they were, I wished them luck.
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It was nice being on a horse, when someone else was controlling it. I began to see why my people have always loved riding these animals. There was something about the speed.. the feel of wind flowing through your hair.. Something that made it special. I wish horses liked me. I wish Éomer liked me. I wish he'd just let me go. I'd walk home if necessary. It might take me many months, but I'd get their eventually.
Home.
Back to warm beds. Good food. No orcs. Safety. Arwen.
Well, maybe it wasn't all good!
We'd been riding for hours when I noticed something… a movement, not far away.
"What's that?" I asked pointing. Éothain looked over in the direction.
"What's what? There's nothing there. You're seeing things."
I didn't reply. I knew I could see something. Not always, just when it moved and stopped blending in with the surrounding rocks. Almost... almost like someone wearing an elvish cloak.
But that was stupid. No one around here had elvish cloaks. Except for the hobbits. And the rest of the fellowship.
Oh no, I couldn't face seeing them now. The humiliation would be too much.
"They can't see me, they mustn't see me" I cried, desperately trying to twist my thick, dark hair into mass that could be hidden down the back of my dress. Dark hair would make me stand out from the rest of the blonde riders.
"Who can't see you?" Éothain asked, puzzled. I didn't reply, just asked if I could borrow his helmet. He gave it to me, repeating his question.
"You'll see" I muttered ominously, tucking the last dark strands of hair under the helmet and trying to make myself look like a rider.
Aragorn and co. didn't even know that I'd left Lothlórien. I dreaded to think what they'd say if they saw me here, now. And what would they tell Daddy?
It didn't bear thinking about!
As we thundered past them, I saw Aragorn rise to his feet and call out. The company turned as one and rode back up the hill. Éothain looked at me strangely.
"Are those the ones that mustn't know you are here?" I nodded, trying to hide behind him. He looked at me for a moment, obviously thinking. Then he turned to Éomer.
"Lord, whoever these people may be, it would be best not to tell them about Saruman's spy." He pointed at me. Éomer regarded me, and nodded.
"You may be right." he replied. "I will not mention her. Keep her out of sight."
He rode forward to investigate who the people were.
Éothain kept near the back of the group. I tried to keep out of sight and still listen to the conversation. Apparently they were following the orcs to try and rescue Merry and Pippin. I wondered what had happened to Frodo and Sam. I only heard talk of men, elves and dwarfs. No hobbits, and I couldn't raise my head to check. I hoped they were alright.
The conversation seemed to last for ages. I was vaguely amused when Gimli reacted so violently to Éomer insulting Granny. He had obviously not seen the same side of Granny that I was used to.
I was starting to get a crick in my neck, I shifted uncomfortably still trying to remain out of sight.
Éothain must have sensed my unease. He tried once to interrupt the conversation and suggest that we headed on towards Edoras. Éomer cut him down harshly, he shut up after that.
Finally, Éomer handed two horses over to Aragorn and bade them farewell. At last, we galloped off and I could breathe easily again. I didn't remove the helmet for a long time, not until I was sure the fellowship were riding in the opposite direction. Legolas' eyes were as good as mine. They would spot dark hair amongst the blonde easily.
Éothain did ask me who the people were. But he gave up once he realised I was not going to answer. I spent the rest of the journey deep in silent thought.
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We finally rode up to Edoras, a small town perched on a large outcrop of rock. The flags were fluttering high in the breeze and the gates creaked open as we arrived.
The horses galloped up to the stone steps that led to a great hall. A woman with long blonde hair emerged from the large doors and hurried down the steps. Éomer dismounted and embraced the woman tenderly.
"You have returned safely." The woman sighed "Were all the orcs destroyed?"
Éomer gave an affirmation and enquired about the messenger who had alerted the news of orcs trespassing over Rohan.
"He has recovered well." The woman replied. "He was suffering only from exhaustion."
"And Théodred?" Éomer inquired. The woman hung her head sadly.
"There is nothing more we can do" she whispered. "He is dying."
Éomer bowed his head in grief.
"That is grave news indeed, sister." He looked up at the doors to the great hall.
"How does the king take the news?"
The woman shook her head, tears filling her large blue eyes.
"He doesn't seem to realise..." she trailed off.
Éomer turned to his men and ordered them to stable the horses. His eyes met mine, and he frowned.
"Come Éowyn, we will see him now together. I have other news to bring our uncle."
He held out his hand towards me and I dismounted obediently. He tightened his grip around my shoulder and bundled me towards the stairs.
Éowyn looked at me in surprise.
"Why, who is this?" she asked her brother.
"A spy of Saruman" he replied coldly as I squirmed under his iron grip. Éowyn's eyes narrowed in anger.
'Oh well, there goes another possible ally.' I thought. 'Thanks a lot Éomer.'
"Théoden can no longer ignore the facts. He must do something." Éomer continued.
Éowyn nodded slowly and followed her brother up the steps.
The doors were opened and we entered a long dark hallway. Shutters blocked out the daylight, except for the odd crack where a lone shaft penetrated the darkness. The place reminded me of a tomb. All was silent and still.
At the far end of the hall, a bundle hunched in a throne. It took me a few minutes to realise that the bundle was in fact a man. The king.
I'd never seen a man less like a king. He was just an old man, withered and shrunken. His mind twisted and confused by old age. He peered shakily into the gloom, his eyes pale and clouded. His breath, a low rasp. Almost painful to hear.
Éomer went up to the king and pleaded with him. Théoden didn't even seem to realise that he was there. His gaze went right over Éomer's shoulder into the gloomy shadows beyond. Éomer tried to talk about Théoden's son, then about the orcs plundering their lands. There was no visible response. I stole a look at Éowyn. Her face was sad, as if remembering the great king this man used to be, compared with the pathetic wreck sitting there now.
Without warning, a voice came hissing from the shadows. The owner emerged slowly. A small, slimy, hunched little man. He peered out from under heavily lidded eyes and made my skin crawl.
I was so disgusted, I stopped listening to the conversation until Éomer threw an orc helmet before the throne. He pointed out the white hand of Saruman and demanded that the king should protect his people from the orcs.
The king's advisor stared at the helmet as if his eyes would bulge out of his head. Then he turned to Théoden and told him how Saruman had always been their ally.
At this, Éomer dragged me forward as if I was the winning ace in a card game.
"Look!" he cried. "This woman was found amongst the orcs. She is a spy of Saruman, we must deal with her properly." The advisor's eyes widened slightly at this statement and he stared at me thoughtfully, pushing a strand of grease covered hair out of his eyes.
"No!" I cried, trying to defend my innocence. "I was taken prisoner. I have nothing to do with Sarum...."
Éomer clamped his hand over my mouth and cut me off mid sentence.
"She lies" he declared. I'd had enough by now. I bit his hand and kicked backwards as hard as I could. Éomer let out a cry of pain and doubled over nursing his hand.
"Guards, lock her up!" he managed to shout through gritted teeth.
Several guards came over and firmly took hold of me. They looked towards the throne for confirmation, but the king still wasn't reacting.
The advisor tilted his head slightly to one side and leered at me.
"Saruman is our ally" he said at last, glaring at Éomer. "If what you say is true, then we should treat this woman courteously, take her to a spare bedroom."
Éomer gazed at the advisor in horror.
"Wormtongue, you speak rubbish!" he cried. "That woman should be treated as a prisoner, not a guest!"
Wormtongue straightened himself up to his full height and glared down at him from the raised platform by the throne.
"I speak the king's wishes" he hissed. "This woman will be treated well!"
Éomer backed away, shaking his head in disbelief. He turned and strode out of the hall, stopping only to hiss an order at one of the guards holding me. A secure lock to be fixed on the door.
The door slammed shut behind him. The king let out a low moan at the unexpected noise. Éowyn flew to his side, and placed a hand on his arm in comfort. She peered into his eyes, as if trying to see the king she used to know and love.
The last thing I saw as the guards hustled me out of the door, was Wormtongue place his slimy hand on top of her pale, slender fingers. She jerked backwards as if she'd been shot, removing her hand far from his reach. She glared at him before storming out of the hall as well, skirts and hair flying.
Temper tantrums must be common here, reminds me of home... and Arwen.
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I was flung into a small room, most of the space taken up by a bed with an incredibly hard mattress. I heard the guards fix a lock on the outside door. So they were still loyal to Éomer.
I lay back on the bed and tried to concentrate on my situation. Much as I detested Wormtongue, for some reason he didn't want me to be harmed. At least that was one less thing to worry about. Perhaps if I asked him nicely, he would let me go home.
I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. This was the first time I'd been alone to think, since I left Lothlórien. So much had happened since then. If you thought about it, I'd been through quite a lot. I had lost Boromir, been captured by orcs, Survived an attack by Riders and treated as a spy.
Still, I was alive.
I think Boromir would be proud of me for not giving up. I wonder if he knows? I wonder if he's watching me from somewhere. I once heard someone say that when someone you love dies, part of them will always stay with you. I wonder if that's true?
It's a comforting thought.