Ch-5 Rating: PG (ch 5 of 10)

Chapter 5 – Arrival at Edoras

There would be no rest that night. Time had been lost. The appointed hour for meeting Gandalf was drawing ever nearer, while the place was still too far off.

They pushed their horses, and themselves. Dèorwyn rode as if wind and distance could erase the horrors of the afternoon.

The first golden light of dawn at the horizon was a welcome sight. Tentative at first, the pale glow quickly strengthened and washed the plains in a brightness that gave promise to the new day.

The group stopped at the crest of a hill, a valley stretching before them. In the distance, the hilltop city of Edoras could be seen. Like a taut rope when given slack, Dèorwyn felt herself relax at the sight of home. She prayed for Èomer's return, and knew she needed to talk to Èowyn – and Theodred.

In the east, the morning light revealed a white gleam. All turned to watch as it moved across the valley. Gandalf and Shadowfax quickly covered the distance and climbed the hill to join them.

If he was surprised to see Dèorwyn, the wizard gave no indication. "And what ill fate has you traveling with this imp?" Gandalf gave her a gentle smile. Behind the affection in his eyes, there was question, as though sensing something in her that did not belong. "It is good to see you, Dèorwyn."

"And you, Gandalf." Relief swept through her. His presence offered a sense of security she had not felt in a long time. It was a comfort she sorely missed.

"I was sorry to hear of your father," Gandalf said, still studying her intently.

Dèorwyn lowered her eyes and nodded to the wizard, accepting his sentiment of condolence, but she said nothing.

Throwing back his shoulders and gathering his reins, Gandalf looked at the three hunters. "Let us see what can be done to relieve Theoden's suffering."

Upon their arrival at Edoras, Dèorwyn was shocked at the dismal reception, and the downcast mood of its citizens. She had known before leaving a week ago that the people despaired. Seeing the city afresh through the eyes of their visitors, she realized the depths of Rohan's downfall.

Dèorwyn climbed the steps to Meduseld with them. No amount of argument with Hama could prevent her from also being disarmed. Explanation was given that none but the King's guard may enter the hall with weapons. Most of those guards were the ones known to be loyal to Grima.

Standing to the side in the great hall, she watched spellbound as events played out before her. A mixture of fear and awe held her a captive witness to Gandalf's power as he released Theoden from Saruman's evil.

Èowyn did not even realize Dèorwyn's presence until they all ran out to the portico when Theoden evicted Grima. While the disgraced advisor pleaded for mercy, Èowyn slipped her hand into Dèorwyn's, and they now stood together watching as Aragorn stayed the King's sword.

Grima scrambled away and rode out from Edoras leaving Theoden to scan the crowd kneeling before him, searching for the one face he most desired to see. "Where is Theodred? Where is my son?"

Dèorwyn also looked about her. Events had happened so quickly she had not realized his absence. She felt Èowyn's grip tighten and Dèorwyn turned to her. Tears streamed down Èowyn's face; her eyes were locked with Theoden's as he climbed the stairs to the portico.

A premonition of what was coming left Dèorwyn light-headed and a knot of dread grew in her stomach. Cold fear wound its way through her.

"Èowyn?" Theoden questioned. A sob escaped her and, with no further words, the father knew his answer. "When?" he whispered.

"They rode out five days ago," Èowyn gently said through her tears. "Orcs ambushed them and Theodred was badly wounded. Èomer brought him home," her voice broke on the last word. She finished with great effort, her words barely heard, "He died last night."

Theoden worked to swallow the lump in his throat, struggling to maintain composure as he asked what he most needed to know. "Did he suffer much?"

"He was never conscious," Èowyn sobbed. "I do not believe he suffered."

Dèorwyn could listen no more. Her heart was pounding and the need to gulp air consumed her. As if fists closed around her throat, she could not breathe. Pulling her hand from Èowyn's grasp, she ran into Meduseld while behind her someone called her name. She heard Èowyn cry, "Do not follow her!"

She ran to the hallways designed for service entry and there she found a cool, dark passage. Her chest heaving as she sucked air into her lungs, Dèorwyn leaned her back to a wall and slid down to sit on the hard floor. Hugging her knees to her chest, it began.

Slowly she broke. Her body shook with silent crying, giving way to sobs of grief as pain and guilt swept through her. She should have been here; perhaps she could have offered some comfort. That opportunity, and the chance for a final farewell, had been missed by mere hours.

Legolas worried that he had not seen Dèorwyn since she ran into the royal hall that afternoon. Èowyn had been adamant that he not follow her, insisting she needed to be alone in her grief. He was suspect of Èowyn's reasons, believing there was more to her protection of Dèorwyn. Now, he wondered if he had been wise to listen.

They were in the great hall, listening to the children's story. Legolas studied the gaunt faces that betrayed much of the terror they had witnessed. He thought it likely these two were now orphans.

Èowyn spoke with the servants of the hall, requesting food and drink, warm blankets, and a healer – both children had injuries. Listening to Gandalf and Theoden debate, Legolas did not even notice the servants who entered the hall to fulfill Èowyn's requests.

Standing protectively near his two friends, the Elf became aware of a sadness in the hall that was palpable to him – it filled his senses and drew his attention.

He looked to the woman carrying a healer's leather bag. Wearing a dress similar in style to Èowyn's, its shade of green recalled to him the woods of his homeland. Her long hair was unbound save for a few strands held from her face by the silver circlet upon her head.

When the dark green eyes met his, he realized with a start that this quiet, beautiful woman was Dèorwyn. The Rohirrim scout who had intrigued him from the beginning, was now transformed into a Lady of grace and elegance. At the look of pain in her eyes, he felt his carefully-built resistance begin to crack.

He knew he should be listening to the debate going on around him, and when he dragged his eyes to focus on Theoden, Legolas saw him advancing toward Aragorn. Uncertain of the King's intentions, he straightened from where he leaned against the column, prepared to defend the Man if need be.

But defense was not needed. Theoden's only intent was to assert himself as king. His decision was final. They would to flee to Helm's Deep and its promise of safety. Gandalf glowered in anger and frustration, believing they fled willingly into a trap. He said nothing more to Theoden, resigning himself to accept the King's angry dismissal of his and Aragorn's counsel.

Continued…