First off, my sincerest apologies for being so late in updating. I also hate to say this, but I will not have a lot of time to update anytime soon so I think I will probably just post the rest of the story today. I have truly enjoyed writing it, and I hope you have enjoyed reading it.
Reviewer Responses
Mysterious Jedi - Here's more!
arwens-light – Getting into the city is only part of the struggle (grins evilly). I've enjoyed talking to you through reviews. I don't know if I'll be able to write anything else after this, but I hope you keep it up so we can still talk. God bless you.
lindahoyland – I really enjoyed writing Lothiriel and the rest of the women, since they don't have such a big part in the books.
Elenhin – Your support has helped Squiggles and Elladen triumph over Evil Skittle and her minions. However, Squiggles in now too weak to fight the dead soldiers after his hard struggle (Ok, actually he found a nice dead lady-worm and is busy planning the wedding). Tell your computer to relax, the updates are here!
emoras – here's your update!
steelelf – Sorry, I still cannot tell you who dies. And actually, it's more than one person. Sorry. (grins evilly)
SeeStar – The Rohirrim are very alive, though the poor people just can't see to get a break.
the evil witch queen – They aren't the Army of the Dead, they're an army of dead people. Think more like zombies than green ghosts. Can't tell you who dies, sorry.
ForeverFaramir – Eomer and Lothiriel haven't met (yet). But I'm sure Aragorn will still be in a lot of trouble with Imrahil if anything bad happens to her.
Voldie on Varsity Track – Agh! You get to see Spamalot! I'm so jealous! Lucky!
IceAngel7 – You shall see, my dear. You shall see.
deblanko – Thanks for your compliments. I don't know if I'll get to write anymore fanfics in the near future, even the whole Elrond series I had planned. (sigh) I wish there were more hours in the day.
The Mortal Elf – Ack! Here! (throws chapter at The Mortal Elf) I hope that satiates your hunger, especially since I am going to try and finish this up today.
Arwen, Éowyn, and Lothiriel looked at Hild, puzzled. Finally, Lothiriel spoke. "What do you mean 'dead'?"
Hild looked at them helplessly, as if she did not understand either. "They are either dead or ghosts. At first, we had thought them Rohirric deserters for they wore the emblems of the Mark. But their faces…were dead, rotten." The others looked at her, horrified. "I... I even saw Gram, my brother." Tears again appeared in Hild's eyes. "You remember him, Éowyn, you saw his body after the battle. We buried him, we buried all of them! And yet they are here, walking around, oppressing their own families."
Éowyn shook her head, unable to comprehend this. "There is no possible way it could be them!"
"It is them. It is their bodies, their faces. But you can see the decay from years in the ground and their eyes... their eyes are dark, soulless. There is nothing there."
There was silence as the women thought. Finally Arwen proposed an idea. "That Eistavar, he said that Pelatarn used dark magic. We saw it ourselves when Eistavar died, and Éowyn saw it used to hide the army. Perhaps Pelatarn does not just use the magic for concealment and killing, but also... to raise the dead. Not their souls, for those pass beyond this world, but raised their bodies. Use the dead to fight the living."
Lothiriel's brown eyes blazed. "That is despicable! How dare he disturb the dead! Desecrating the graves of those brave, honorable men, how dare he!"
Arwen laid a hand on Lothiriel's arm to calm her down. "Remember, the children are asleep." Turning to Éowyn, the elf said, "We must get this information to Aragorn. One of us should return to Minas Tirith." Both Éowyn and Lothiriel had the same 'I am staying here no matter what so no use even asking me to leave' look on their faces, which was really what Arwen was expecting. So by process of elimination, Arwen was elected to return.
But when Hild suggested that she leave the next night, Arwen adamantly shook her head. "Aragorn will need to know for sure if Faramir and Éomer are still alive. That has to factor into the battle-plan."
"Some have tried to gain entrance to the Hall, but none have succeeded."
Éowyn even admitted that she did not know a way in. "All entrances would be guarded, and there are no secret ways in or out."
"Yes there is." Four heads turned to the doorway to the other room. A little blonde boy of about ten stood there in his nightshift. "I know a way in."
Hild's eyes widened. "Fréaláf, go back to bed! This is a grown-up conversation."
A little six-year-old girl with blonde curls peeked from behind her brother. "But Mama, we can help!"
"Sigel!"
Éowyn raised her hand, commanding silence. "Hild, obviously they have been listening to our conversation." She smiled slightly. "It reminds me of two little girls I knew once, doesn't it my friend?" Hild looked sheepish at the reminder of her youth and nodded her consent for Éowyn to question the children. "Now Fréaláf, and Sigel, what way do you know of?"
Fréaláf answered. "There's a small tunnel that leads straight to the dungeon. We found it playing hide-and-find last year. I think it used to be a drain, but then Éomer King did something to the prison and it was boarded off at the palace end. Sigel and I never told anyone, it was our secret place."
"And we didn't go into the palace either," added Sigel in a stubborn voice, daring the others to accuse them of wrongdoing. Éowyn didn't pay that any attention, though. Her mind was busy thinking up a plan.
"Be careful, all of you," cautioned Arwen. It was near noon and Hild, Fréaláf, Sigel, Éowyn, and Lothiriel were heading out to instigate Éowyn's plan. Arwen could not go with them for she was too noticeable, so she was going to stay hidden at Hild's house. Hild and Sigel were going to try and buy food at the market like normal, while Fréaláf would lead Éowyn and Lothiriel to the abandoned drain.
Lothiriel smiled and answered in accented Rohirric. "We will be careful, do not worry."
Hild rolled her eyes. "I would not speak outside these walls if I were you, unless you actually want to be caught." The children giggled and the other women had to stifle giggles of their own, though their laughter was more nerves than anything.
So off everyone but Arwen went, trying hard to remain calm and not give themselves away. Éowyn and Lothiriel had spent the morning making themselves look more like common women of the Mark, especially Lothiriel whose dark hair was more unusual, and certainly more eye-catching, in Rohan. They solved this by putting her hair up in a scarf. Éowyn, on the other hand, was known to most Rohirrim and they could not take the chance that anyone would call out to her. After a long debate, Éowyn conceded to having mud streaked through her hair and splattered on her face and clothes to make it seem like she had fallen into a mud puddle. If anyone got past the stink of the mud, her face would be covered enough to be somewhat unrecognizable.
Partway to the market, the group separated. So far they had not been stopped by any soldiers, and Lothiriel, Éowyn, and Fréaláf got to Meduseld without any problems. Once there, Fréaláf led them to the side of the Golden Hall, into a ditch where the drain lay. He had been right in saying the drain was small. The moment she saw it, Éowyn's heart sank. There was no way she would be able to fit in it, she was too tall.
"Well, I guess this is when being short has its rewards." Éowyn turned and looked at Lothiriel who was smiling tight-lipped. "It will be tight, but I think I can fit." Indeed, Lothiriel was a good half-foot shorter than Éowyn, and slender as well. To Lothiriel's consternation, little Fréaláf was only a few inches shorter than she was. Meaning she was the perfect size to fit in the drain.
Unfortunately, before they could do anything, there was a sharp yet emotionless and monotonous call behind them. "Halt! State your name and your purpose to being near the Hall."
All three turning around at the same time, they found a squad of dark soldiers looking at them. Lothiriel instantly thought up a story, but then she remembered that she couldn't speak without giving them away. Éowyn was too shocked at seeing men she knew were dead giving her orders to say anything. Fortunately for them, Fréaláf had a good head on his shoulders. "Forgive us, sir, but I lost my cat. She ran this way and my cousins and me chased after her."
Apparently the soldier bought it. "Return home immediately, do not look for your animal." Since the squad was waiting, they had to walk away from the drain, away from their connection to Faramir and Éomer. Though she could not spare a look back, Éowyn's thoughts remained on her husband and brother in the hands of an evil necromancer. 'Please let them be all right!'
Alright, hope you likes it. Chapter 8 coming up!
