As she stepped into the hall, the noise almost struck her down; the smell of food was in the air and heat of the blazing fires emanated around the room. Through the bustle of servants and guests she sat down near her father at the end of on wooden table, he hardly noticed her, through his snowy locks and the fact that he more than a little intoxicated.
"Father" she shouted into his ear, through the commotion in the room.
"Rochwyn….. How nice….my daughter…. Say….", he slurred, but the rest she couldn't understand.
She shook her head and left the table but not before taking a small loaf of bread and a goblet of wine. She had to pick her way carefully across the fur rugs and servants balancing plates upon plates of meats, liqueurs and various delights. Then she came into a quieter corner of the room with a group of men sitting close together drinking large mugs of ale. One by one they stopped talking and each gave a nod of their head to the dark-haired young woman, she thought back to how much more courteous Legolas had been and grasped her hand with the other.
"Riders of Rarous, I may have a secret proposition for you"
They moved up and cautiously to make sure no-one was listening Lady Rochwyn, sat down and leaned in, to explain to the men what Legolas had told her earlier- they were as surprised as she was.
"I have been asked to choose nine men from my riders, not only the fastest, for there will be warfare involved. As for the nine, I have already chosen: my right wing rider and my left, Gudmund, Harek, Heidrek, Sigurd, Runolf, Thormod and Armod. I bid you now to sharpen your swords tonight and be prepared to ride within three days, but remember prophecies have been foretold that many will die if my father should hear of such news, I pray you to keep this amongst your selves."
She left them with out further ado, finishing her wine. None of them asked questions and she decided to leave the hall, however this had to be done by stepping past the many drunken men deep in slumber and through the door behind the musicians playing flutes and lyres and such like.
She stepped outside, the bitter night air froze her bones, and made her shiver; her thin dress was not enough to keep her from the cold whilst her breath frosted in front of her. The bottom of her dress grew wet and heavy and her toes grew numb as she stumbled through the dark looking for her room. An owl sounded in the darkness and the rumble of the feast could still be heard behind her as she pushed against the solid door for the second time, until, at last she was inside the hallway and she picked a candle from the wall and made her way toward her bedroom, cursing as she went for not taking a candle with her when she left to go outside.
As she came to her bedroom door she looked up the corridor two doors from hers and listened for some time, but there was only silence. Lady Rochwyn entered her room tired and cold, she stoked up the fire and crawled beneath her heavy, fur blankets and closed her eyes but she could only see black, the sound of sword shattering against each other filled her mind - arrows flying through the air, and screams, screams of men, screams of orcs and the whinny of horses.