She hadn't been sitting there for very long when a middle-aged man came into the room with a bowl and some sort of cloth.
"Good evening, lady," he said briskly with a nod, "I am the Warden of these Houses. I hear you have managed to harm yourself, and Mithrandir has asked that I tend your wound. Then, perhaps, I can procure some more suitable attire for you. Now, allow me to see…" He trailed off as Helen held out her arm willingly, still feeling the strange sense of peace that had fallen over her. "It is well, lady; the cut is not deep, but it will need to be cleansed thoroughly; there is some dirt that must be removed. It may sting a little." He then washed the gash on her arm – she winced slightly, but reminded herself that it was her own fault – and tied the cloth around it tightly. Seemingly satisfied, he stood up straight and smiled at her. "Now, if you will accompany me, I will see if I can find a dress to fit you; we have some store of clothing in this house."
Following the Warden through another empty room, this time with chairs and tables, it occurred to Helen that she had been acting something like a sheep for most of the afternoon. The only thing she'd done of her own accord since she met Hereláf was to cut her arm, which, it seemed now, had been a particularly stupid thing to do. It didn't seem worth the hassle of arguing though – it wasn't as if she knew where to go even if she did run away. She was probably better off seeing what happened for a while longer; anyway, she was quite excited about this dress. If it was anything like the ones she'd seen outside, she'd be very happy with it.
"Now," said the Warden with a smile, pointing to a chest of drawers in the corner of a small room, "I shall leave you for a while. Will you be able to robe yourself, or would you like me to find a woman to help you?"
"I'll be fine, thanks," Helen said, smiling suddenly. "Thanks for your help, I really appreciate it." The Warden bowed and left the room, pulling a drape across the doorway. Helen admired the patterned material for a moment – it was a pretty sort of blue with flowers embroidered in white – then turned her attention to more important things.
"Wow," she breathed as she opened one of the drawers. It was full of long flowing gowns, of all kinds of materials, in blues and whites and greens in particular. It was like a shopping spree, she thought as she picked out a dress the same colour as the curtain, except that she didn't have to pay; at least she hoped she didn't, as she definitely didn't have enough money for a dress like this. Glancing around the room she saw that the curtains around the window were already drawn, and she quickly pulled off her jeans and stepped into the dress. It was a beautiful silky material; she couldn't believe how nice it felt. Eagerly she took off her top and went to put her arms into the sleeves, but she immediately realised it was too small for her.
"Grrr! It really is like going shopping!" she muttered under her breath, very much put out. With the dress half-on, half-off, she turned back to the chest and selected another dress of a similar colour and tried again.
It was a good while before she found a dress that came anywhere near to fitting properly. She was quite frustrated by this point, so she'd given up trying for any particular style or colour and just pulled out dress after dress; this one was emerald green, much brighter than anything she'd usually wear, but she'd decided it wasn't worth the hassle of trying again. It wasn't bad at all though; it had long sleeves that seemed to open up from her elbow onwards, for which she was very grateful considering the bandage she was wearing. Looking around her she realised the mess she'd made; dresses were piled up all around her, and although they looked very comfortable, she somehow didn't think it would be appreciated if she left them like that. Reluctantly she began to fold them again and put them back in the drawers.
Finally the dresses were put away – not very neatly, but at least they were off the floor. Somewhat cautiously, she pulled the drape away from the door and headed back towards the room where she'd been sitting earlier, holding her jeans and t-shirt. Nobody seemed to be around, so she called out hesitantly.
"Um… Warden? Are you around? I found a dress…" She smoothed down the front of the dress self-consciously, wondering what on earth had possessed her to think she'd feel better in it than in her jeans. She hadn't worn a dress since the ball when she left school… what, three years ago?
"Ah, there you are," Gandalf smiled as he reappeared from outside. "I must apologise for leaving you; however, I think you can excuse an old wizard from a few of his mistakes on such a day as this. I see the Warden has found you a dress; a most appropriate colour too, I might add. Now, if you feel able, I think we might take another walk up to the Citadel, where I am sure you will be most welcome." He offered her his arm, and they walked out of the house again.
"I imagine you must feel rather lost," Gandalf said kindly as they climbed the streets, "But I assure you could not have visited this city at a better time. All the people are rejoicing, for there has not been a King for a thousand years, and now the King has returned, and the Enemy is defeated. However, I am sure you will learn of that in time; for now you must be properly introduced to the many lords who are gathered in this place. You will of course be an honoured guest; an ambassador as it were. Come; the King will be in his throne room now, and seated in the high throne where no man has sat for many a long year. If I may, I will act as your herald."
"Herald?" Helen snorted with laughter. "Why on earth do I need a herald? And why am I an honoured guest anyway? I'm not anyone special."
"Perhaps you have no important post as such in your home country, Lady Helen, but you are the sole representative of your people; that alone qualifies you for such honour. Even were this not so, I think the lords are owed something after you disturbed their celebrations this afternoon." At this Helen looked up at him, worried, but then she saw the twinkle in his eyes. "Do not be so anxious, my dear. There is nothing to worry about." With that he opened a door; they had been walking down a long passageway, and now they entered a long hall, the roof on black marble pillars, filled with people in fine clothes. At the end of the hall was some kind of platform, high, with many steps leading up to it; on the platform was a throne, and on the throne sat Aragorn.