A/N: Yes, chapter 2. Finally. I had been worried I would encounter the dreaded writer's block, which is, of course, more of a threat to me than others, because I do not write with outlines, and if I don't know where the story is going, it is going to take more than a miracle to salvage it. But enough on that. In the last chapter, Raugwen becomes Ardeas, being discovered and saved by Théoden from her oppressors Rourn and Findulwyn. But don't worry. I have a feeling that after they're put in dungeons we still won't see the last of them. It would add some great character stuff. And for all those who care, Théoden is around 64, making this t.a. 3012, six years before the Ring goes berserk and the whole Ringwraith thing happens in the Shire (I can almost hear Tolkien rolling over in his grave at my words. I'm assuming (from a source that I can't remember) that Gríma Wormtongue is with Théoden for around five years, which means that Gríma began his leechcraft around t.a. 3014, because Gandalf heals Théoden on March 2nd, t.a. 3019, according to Return of the King appendices. So, right now in my story, Théoden is free of leechcraft, though in two years he's going to begin to be consumed. Éomer is now 21 and Éowyn is 17, again according to the appendices (so you can't constest that!). Théodred is 34 now (that is so OLD- pardon me, time goes to quickly). But enough of this confounded Author's Note. Here we are at Rourn & Findulwyn's house, with all of them preparing to leave.

Wait!! Just one more thing. About her name: I don't know any Rohirric (if that's what the language is called) so I was forced to make something up, whereas Raugwen actually meant something in Sindarin (though I would have preferred something in Quenya).

Disclaimer: I'm not putting these in anymore. Nobody in their right mind claims to own anything book recognizable.

Chapter II

Théoden smiled at me. "The name suits you well."

I didn't want to ask what it meant. It might mean something awful, though I doubted it. Théoden seemed like a kindly man, now that he was done shaking me by my shoulder, demanding to know why I had been "spying."

Théoden strode to the door, "Is there anything you want to take? We should be leaving soon."

I shook my head. There was nothing left for me here, and I didn't want anything of Rourn or Findulwyn's, except for burning later for reasons of personal amusement (but I decided not to). It was all ahead of me now, wherever Théoden planned to take me. I had only lived for fourteen years, and now I was confronted by a feeling I had never known before. It was excitement; that something new was going to happen. That my life was about to change, hopefully for the better, was an exhilarating feeling.

Life before had been utterly predictable, very monotonous. Nothing ever was really out of the ordinary.

Théoden nodded absentmindedly. He motioned for the door. I carefully stepped over the ruins of the bed, and stepped through the door. It felt different. I wasn't going to be sleeping in a barn tonight. I wasn't going to be hoping for some milk or bread or cheese or a vegetable. I was free. Free. People don't understand it until it's gone.

Rourn stood by the door, shackled (I later wondered why they had even brought shackles), cursing in tongues that sounded vile. Findulwyn knelt weeping beside him, probably hoping for a last dash of pity that would never come.

Théoden unhooked his cloak and clasped it around my shoulders. It was not cold, but maybe he did not want me to feel ashamed when we got to wherever we were going to go.

"Unless you wish to ride with your former guardians, you may ride with Brannen." Théoden motioned toward a soldier at least ten years older than me.

I didn't need to answer. I would rather have run than rode with Rourn or Findulwyn. All of the guards mounted, with Rourn and Findulwyn being pushed on two separate horses and placed at separate ends of the company, apparently so they couldn't plot. A guard rode with them to ensure their capture. Brannen mounted his horse and rode up beside me.

He offered his hand to help me up, but I did not wish him to think me entirely helpless. I just shook my head a little so I would not seem rude, and climbed into the saddle. I had originally planned to sit behind him, but as I climbed he said:

"Sit in front so I may keep an eye on you."

I guess he was concerned. He look at me as if I were a dangerous person, but instead looked at me with pity. I didn't like that look of pity, but I sat in front of him anyway.

Théoden raised his arm, in a signal to commence the journey. Our horse trotted along after the other horses.

He smiled at me, "What is your name?"

He didn't address me as child. I liked that.

"Ardeas."

"That is a very beautiful name, Ardeas. How old are you?"

"Fourteen, I think."

"You are not sure?"

"They only told me how old I was when they were in a good mood. It has been long since they told me my age."

I could sense that he was frowning, but he did not respond to that. I didn't have much to tell or say. I didn't want to talk anyway. Maybe I could get him to talk about his own life.

"What about you?"

It eventually became known to me through his talkativeness that he was 24, exactly as I thought, ten years older than me. He had been a guard/soldier since the age of 17. He had a wife, two twin daughters around 5, and a son about 3. His father was a member of the court, and he had lived in Edoras all his life. He was the middle of five brothers, and he was the only one who chose the army as his occupation.

Riding was extremely uncomfortable, least of all exciting, and after half an hour, I was sore all over. I henceforth sympathize with people who ride horses constantly.

I was rather surprised that it took only two hours before I saw Edoras, standing alone on a hill, in a wide valley surrounded by mountains. We paused before it. The sight was breathtaking. The wind captured the rolling grass, rippling through it like water.

"Beautiful, is it not?" Brannen asked.

"It is." I answered.

He sighed at the sight of it. I thought it looked nice, but it really wasn't that awe-inspiring.

Our horse began again, walking, almost trotting toward the city, as if the horse itself was delighted to return to the city, which I'm sure it was.

Sitting on a horseback for two hours, was to the point of unbearable. I had never done it before and in a moment of haste, swore I would never do it again. My stomach was howling rather unbecomingly, but I managed to keep it quiet. I really didn't want pity, and my pride had a will of its own.

The whole area was a windy beyond belief. I had never been in a place like this before. But I really shouldn't say that because I can't remember being anywhere before Rourn and Findulwyn. Maybe I could remember someday.

Brannen had returned to his ramblings about life on his horse, and what a great horse it was that we were riding. From a few nods, he was satisfied I was listening with rapt attention. I didn't really mind. He seemed like a nice person.

The horses plodded ever on to reach the capital city. I saw on top of the hill a golden hall. The sun was shining on its roof, making the thatch give off a golden glow. I didn't like the sun. I showed all of my dirt and haggardness. I might have been beautiful in face, but the rest of me left a lot to be desired.

I felt almost embarrassed in front of a guard wearing pristine armor. It would have been better to sit behind him so I wouldn't see people's stares at me. But you can't have everything.

I felt strange next to him, like a moldy piece of bread against a new roast. I felt out of place. My hair was not greasy, but it could have been better. My dress had rips along the bottom, and many patches over the front and back, even if the cloak covered it. And there were some holes without patches, in very unbecoming places, which made me feel even worse. Théoden had better get me some clothing so I don't end up looking like a whore (I didn't know what that was, but she always called me one when I had a lot of uncovered holes in my dress). I shuddered at the thought.

We reached the gates of Edoras soon. I felt very uncomfortable. I felt very much like a nasty looking piece of baggage. I thanked however controlled things on Middle-earth for the cloak Théoden decided to give me.

I earned strange and curious looks from about anyone who could see and who noticed. That wasn't as bad as the pitying looks that made me feel awful. There was one young lady who seemed to guess it all and gave me a look of utter pity.

I stuck out my tongue and made a rude gesture with my hand. I probably should not have done that, but I still felt unbreakable, unbeatable, and my pride didn't like pity. Rourn and Findulwyn had not broken me yet.

Some of the people around her gasped. She herself made some sort of gasping snort that sounded very ridiculous as if I had just defiled the graves of Thengel and Fengel and turned back into her cottage, her long blonde hair flipping around as she turned. She couldn't have been more than twenty.

I smiled at that.

I felt Brannen go stiff behind me. I was about to ask what was wrong when it hit me- that must have been his wife.

I turned around to apologize and was quite surprised to see his features desperately trying not to curl into a broad grin. Needless to say, he wasn't succeeding.

"So that wasn't your wife?"

He smiled broadly, forsaking whatever edict that commanded the soldiers to have a neutral face.

"Oh, it was." He was holding back so much laughter that his eyes were watering.

To say I was very embarrassed was an understatement. I had been sure that was just some stupid villager's wife/daughter that I flicked her off for that pity look she gave me. Now, not only was that the wife of one of the very powerful, very strong, very good with a spear soldiers who were taking me to wherever Théoden was going, I was sitting on that man's horse, directly in front of him where I couldn't really see his actions. It's a very good thing he wasn't angry.

He didn't offer an explanation and I didn't ask for one. They had probably just been in an argument for a day or two or something like that.

We reached the steps to the afforementioned Golden Hall with not much more ado. All of the riders dismounted. Brannen once again offered to help me down, but I wasn't one of those snivelling little damsels-in-distress so I got down on my own.

He still looked amused.

The wind was trying to show the world that my hair was disgusting. It blew the hood off my head, and my hair whipped around for a few seconds before a quickly pulled the hood back on. I could almost feel some of the stares at my hair. I knew it looked revolting, and I didn't need them to tell me as well.

Brannen chuckled slightly, so I turned around and threw him a punch in the stomach. "My hair isn't my fault," I said very softly, and very menacingly.

I heard a few of the soldier/guards laugh outloud behind me as Brannen doubled over in pain. I muttered as I rubbed my fist, "Your stupid armor hurt my fist."

"What was that for?!" he demanded.

"You made fun of me."

"I did no such thing!"

"Oops, then." I offered a hand to help him up, but he refused it. Stubborn. But I smiled.

He muttered something about the stupidity of women, but I gave him a glare that shut him up. It was nice being a female. They couldn't hit back at me, unless either they were violent (which was bad) or my father/husband (slaps only). Brannen was neither.

We began the trudge up the steps to the entrance of the doors. I was somewhere in the middle, Rourn and Findulwyn somewhere behind me. I didn't care to look. Brannen still held his stomach with one arm, as if he'd been mortally wounded. I felt empowered.

As Théoden reached the top of the stairs, a young woman with waist length blonde hair ran out.

"Uncle!" she cried, throwing herself into his arms in a hug.

She nearly put him off balance as I saw him teeter for a fraction of a second, but regained his balance and hugged her back.

She pulled away, "But back so soon? I thought you said the matter would take an hour at least."

The woman was very beautiful, a cool kind of beauty, no doubt very stern and proud. But at the moment she was smiling and laughing with her arms around Théoden's neck.

She saw me while hugging her uncle. The smile left her face. She frowned.

"Who is that, Uncle?"

She pulled away from his embrace. I looked down, very ashamed.

Théoden King spoke in hushed tones to his niece. I stood uneasily, shifting from one foot to another, and I earned occaisional glances during the conversation from the young woman. I noticed a few of the soldiers giving me those out-of-the-corner-of-the-eye glances/stares. I must have been a source of general amusement, my appearance and all. But they had seen poor Brannen, and I heard naught but Théoden's hushed conversation with his niece and the wind.

Finally the King finished speaking. He turned back at me and smiled, a very small smile. I liked him. I smiled back. He went onto a porch and through double doors into the building. The woman made a beeline for me as the other soldiers walked into the building or dispersed. Brannen gave me a squeeze on the shoulder, smiled, and walked down the stairs in a different direction, but apparently, still going to go into the building. The young woman approached me.

"So, you must be Ardeas."

No. I'm the Steward of Gondor.

"I am."

She gave me an appraising look, looking me up and down. It made me feel uncomfortable. She sighed.

"You need to get cleaned up."

The Obvious had been spoken.

She must have been only slightly younger than twenty, but she seemed very mature for her age. She could have easily passed herself off for the age of thirty if you only heard her voice alone.

She took my hand and led me up the steps. I was not a helpless child. I jerked my hand out of hers. She gave me a withering look. When she turned around I stuck out my tongue. We were going to get along just fine, I thought.

She led and I followed up the stairs and onto a sort of porch before she thrust open the double doors, and we were within a giant hall. At the head of the hall were a few steps up, and then a throne. Théoden sat on the throne, amongst a crowd of men huddling about him, whispering. Advisors, apparently. A skylight of sorts was above, and it let light down on the intricate floor, decorated beautifully. Each pillar was carved with delicate horses, and on every wall were tapestries, some apparently signifying some province, and other telling a story. The story tapestries seemed to focus on a young blonde man on a horse. Windows flooded the room with light. But I didn't get a chance to admire the grandness of the hall.

The stepped quickly and led down the side of the hall. There were a set of double doors, with a guard on each side. They must have led to the royal apartments because why else would guards be there? They were probably there to keep inquisitive peasants out.

They opened the doors, and we strode quickly in. I did not want to be thought to not be in the company of this woman and be not permitted in, so I made sure I was almost beside her.

The hall immediately turned a sharp right, and we passed down several doors in the hall. The hall itself was not overly bright, unlike the main hall, but neither was it pitch black. There was merely enough light to see where you were going, even though it was almost high noon outside. Maybe there would be windows in the rooms.

We passed a few more doors when she opened one on our left. A large tub stood in the center, filled with steaming water. Many multicolored bottles stood on the edge of the tub, all of various sizes and shapes. I had never seen anything like this before. What the heck was going on?

"I usually take my bath at this hour, but since you seem to be in a more dire need of cleaning than I do, I will let you take this bath instead, and I will bathe later."

This was a bathing room?? Good grief! You could give a horse a bath in this tub. Well, almost. But I kept my mouth shut. I should have known. But bathing rooms... I had never heard of that before. I bathed in the creek, when I could get away from Rourn and Findulwyn. This was far too grand for me. I could never feel comfortable.

"But..." I began.

"No 'buts'. Take your clothes off and get in the tub."

I flushed a deep scarlet as she made no sign to leave.

"For heaven's sake, child. I'm going to help you with your bath, as I'm sure you've never had one like this before. Or would you prefer my brother help you bathe?"

I shook my head so fast my head hurt when I stopped. She was right about this being my first, but still being awfully presumptious. I might have been a kidnapped queen for all she knew. Oh wait. She did know. Théoden told her.

"Could you at least turn around?"

She sighed, but complied.

I lowered the hood and cloak, turning around several times to make sure her back was turned. I removed the rest of my clothing very fast and jumped into the tub of water, making, though uninentionally, a very large splash. The woman muttered something about "young children," and turned around, heading for the side of tub where the bottles were. She opened the lid of a green bottle, flipped it over, and poured some liquid onto her palm. She put the bottle down and rubbed the lotion over her hands.

"Here. Let me do your hair."

I was rather worried about what that liquid thing would feel, if it would be slimy or rather nasty. Maybe it was something to get rid of smell.

I leaned back against the tub, unused to this kind of treatment. But I did have to admit. It did feel nice. It was unusual to be pampered by a princess, when it should have been the other way around.

"What is your name?" I asked, unsure if I should add a "your highness" or a "my lady" on the end of the question.

But she didn't seem to mind, "Éowyn, Ardeas. My name is Éowyn."

It was a pretty name. But I still liked my name better, or at least, the name the King of the Mark gave me.

A million questions went through my mind. The main one was, "What the heck is a princess doing washing my hair?".

"Are you a princess?" I asked tentatively before I could stop myself. Of course she was a princess. She was the king's niece. I hoped she didn't think I was just a stupid little girl.

She smiled, "Yes. I suppose so. But just call me Éowyn."

She finished my hair, and gently pushed the crown of my head underwater, keeping my face above water. She moved the green bottle closer to me on the edge of the tub.

"Here. Wash the rest of your body. I can guarantee you'll look much better."

The Obvious was spoken again. Almost anything would have made me look better. Even washing myself with tar. It would have covered all the dirt.

"Call me when you're done, Ardeas. I'm going to get rid of these clothes and get you nicer ones."

"Thank you," I called back, remembering that at least. But she was already out the door.

I proceeded to use the lotion to cleanse away the rest of my body. A few bruises were still on my legs, thanks to Rourn when I accidentally spilled the water when he pushed me aside. A scar still remained on the back of my legs when I had tried to run away.

When I had finished, Éowyn had not returned, but I assumed she must have been nearby. I had languished in the tub after she had left for at least half an hour, just letting myself soak, because I might not ever get this opportunity again.

I heard a knock on the door. It was Éowyn.

"Are you finished, Ardeas? I've brought your clothes."

"Yes. I'm finished."

Éowyn opened the door and entered with a mound of clothing. She kicked the door closed with her foot and set the clothes down on a chair.

She walked to the tub with a cloth and set it on the edge.

"Could you turn around?"

She sighed again as I got out of the tub, and wrapped a thick cloth (which was thankfully very large) around myself. She motioned toward the pile of dresses that sat on the chair, her back still turned.

They all seemed too much for me. Red, gold, green, purple, you name it. It was there. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best.

My fingers were clasped tightly around a green dress. I held it up as best I could without letting the cloth fall. It was pretty plain, which suited me, and it had a high neckline, which made it unquestionably the best on there, as the other ones were more flatteringly cut. I found underwear underneath clothes.

Éowyn busied herself around the room, cleaning up things, letting the water out of the tub, arranging the bottles, always making sure her back was to me. She didn't really have to do that, but it was nice that she respected my bashfulness.

Making sure her eyes were not able to see me in the corner of her vision, I slipped on the garments. I picked up the cloth and roughly dried my hear hair.

She, seeming to sense now that I was covered, gave a shriek at the way I was drying my hair.

"You cannot do it that way! You shall undoubtedly wind up very embarrassed!"

As if she expected me to calmly produce a comb and gently brush the knots out of my hair.

I paid no heed and continued drying my hair the way I had always dried it, except that I never used a drying cloth as nice as this or that I ended up smelling like... berries?

With a sigh of exasperation, she strode over and forcefully removed the cloth from my hands. She pushed me over toward a table and a small looking glass that adorned it. She proceeded, much to my dislike, to hum softly to herself and brush my hair with a coarse brush she produced from somewhere on her person. With clips in her mouth, she did something unspeakable to a knot in my hair, causing me to yelp rather loudly,

"Ouch!"

She didn't respond, and there was a loud knock on the door.

"Who is it?" she called.

"It's me, Éomer," answered a masculine voice, "Are you presentable?"

She dropped her clips onto the table and ran to the door, throwing it open, and embracing the blonde/brown headed man in his early twenties who stood there, leaving me at the table in this awkward situation.

"It's so good to see you again," she said.

He smirked playfully at her, "And you grow more beautiful everyday."

It didn't take excellent deduction skills to realize she was blushing.

"Thank you, brother. And I am sure you have many women trailing after your every move," she teased.

Unforntunately so, mostly from-" he noticed me, "Who is this?"

"Oh, Brother, this is Ardeas. She is going to be living with us for quite some time."

I am? Oh wait. Yeah I guess I am.

He gave her a quizzical look, but ambled over to me, whereupon, he kissed my hand.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ardeas." He smiled. He looked a lot like his uncle.

"It's nice to meet you to," I said quickly, after a pause. I wasn't used to "kissing of hands" and frankly, I don't think I liked it. What if someone was really nasty or ugly or you hated their guts? Would you have to let them kiss your hand? Éomer was far from unpleasant; he seemed nice enough, I suppose. Maybe I was just unused to courtesy.

He smiled again. "How old are you, milady?"

"Fourteen. And please don't call me a lady. I'm not really one."

"And how did you get here?" he said pleasantly.

"I... uh..." I stammered.

It was Éowyn who saved the day. "All will be explained later, Brother. I'm sure Uncle wishes to see you." She pointed not so subtly toward the door.

"I see," he laughed, "I will not interrupt my sister's hair ministrations.." He smiled at me again, "Just don't let her cook for you!"

"Why you ungrateful..." she swatted him as he strode quickly away, laughing. I couldn't help laughing myself.

"Do not listen to a word from him," she said. She reminded me of a mother who had once visited Rourn with her child while her husband sought counsel. I had never seen she and her five year old son upclose, but I had listened to her. She sounded so sweet and loving and caring. The kind of mother I never had, or at least, never remembered.

Éowyn quickly finished my hair. I looked in the looking glass. I didn't recognize myself. My face was free of dirt. My hair, usually unkempt and greasy was smooth and soft and pulled up behind my head, but with a few strands left to frame my face. The green dress, which I had not really seen on myself until now, was a nice shade, a dark green, that matched my black hair.

"There. You look very beautiful."

I looked strange. I didn't see Raugwen (whatever that meant) anymore. I looked like someone new. I looked like Ardeas. I looked a lot older, I noticed, with my hair done like this.

"I think you shall have all of the men staring tonight," she smirked.

To say I was horrified was an understatement. For Elbereth's (I don't know who Elbereth was but Rourn used to say it) sake, I was fourteen. Would they want to kiss me?

She saw my look of horror and patted my shoulder, "I was just teasing."

Inwardly, I sighed in relief. She had better just be teasing. The last thing I needed was some man chasing me, a fourteen year old girl, around. I shuddered. At least Brannen could testify I could take care of myself.

I still looked pale in the looking glass. Éowyn sighed. "Come. Let us take you outside and breathe some fresh air."

She half dragged me toward the door, though I was eager to get out already.

So much for all that fuss about my hair. It was going to get swept around by the wind anyway. ---- We reached the outside without much commotion. She had apparently forgotten that the whole of Rohan seemed to breed winds, but I guess she trusted her hair clips.

The site was breathtaking, to say the least. It was so much better being at Edoras seeing the surroundings that looking from the surroundings to Edoras. There had been one poor woman who had had an breathing problem when she came for advice. Poor woman, but the only way I learned things about the wide world and all that was in it was from listening in as Rourn or Findulwyn talked.

But anyway, I seemed to feel a lot better with air blowing straight at my face. Unsuprisingly, the wind blew the hair clips out, leaving my hair to flow freely in the wind, which I liked much better. Éowyn gave an exasperated sigh, and picked up the clips, but did not put them back in my hair, much to my delight.

The porch offered a very nice view of Edoras and the surrounding area. The guards seemed curious, but did not move or speak. Éowyn and I just stood, looking out for a while.

"Would you like something to eat?" she asked.

Is Edoras a city? Is Théoden a king? Do Elves live forever? The Obvious, once again, is spoken.

I had been so excited I had forgotten all about my stomach, which was, by now, used to Rourn and Findulwyn's treatment. But I realized I was hungry.

I nodded, being careful not to seem overly enthusiastic. Manners, I suppose.

She turned and led me back through the doors toward where I presumed the kitchen. She led me off to the right of the main hall, toward a large door. When she opened it, I could have been in heaven. I could have died right then, completely content. Chicken, vegetables, and other things that smelled heavenly.

I sighed. Edoras was not going to be bad at all.

A/N: Ok, ok. All it takes now is to just press that little button to submit a review. I have not yet encountered a writer's block yet, but I am always open for suggestions about what should happen next. I also like comments about whether my story is mildly interesting, incredibly stupid etc etc. So just press that little button. ::prods reader toward it::. We know you can do it.