The Rohan Pride Trilogy

Part Two: Reunions

Book One

By: WhiteLadyOfTroy

Summary:
Gúthwyn's mission has failed. Now that she is traveling with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli to find the Hobbits, she finds herself being confronted with her past, as well as some painful experiences in the present.

About the Trilogy:
I have decided to do what Tolkien did with his books. The Fellowship of the Ring had two books within the text, as did The Two Towers and The Return of the King. The only change I have made is the first part in my trilogy: Alone. That was divided into three books, the first book explaining how Gúthwyn got to where The Fellowship of the Ring started. Reunions will be divided into two books.

About Chapter Fourteen:
As always, I will be using a blend of both movie and book canon. Sorry for any confusion. Please correct me on anything that seems amiss, out-of-character, or non-canon. Just an advance warning: Lately, my chapters have been bouncing back and forth between extremely long or rather short.

Chapter Fourteen

It was high noon, and Gúthwyn was just one of the hundreds of people passing alongside the mountains to get to Helm's Deep. For a few hours they had been moving; most walked, but a few had horses. The ill were being carried in wagons, which were responsible for most of the delay. She did not mind the slowness, however: For the entire journey, she had been with Tun, and was enjoying herself immensely.

He had been regaling her with tales of his exploits, just before he became one of the royal guards. Only half of these did she believe, but they cheered her all the same. A surge of happiness rose within her whenever the sun's rays caught his armor, making it sparkle and gleam. She loved the idea that he was now a guard; everything from his gaze, which was constantly making sure of their surroundings, to the way one hand was easily curled over his sword at all times, told her that he knew what he was doing. Underneath the armor, she did not doubt, was a toned body—it would not come as a surprise to her if he had attracted the attention of many women.

As he finished telling her a story about how he had won a race against Anborn, Gúthwyn smiled. "How did you come to be a guard?" she inquired, and took a quick glance back at Heorot. She had been leading the horse behind her, preferring to walk beside Tun than to ride. But it was not primarily for Heorot's safety, though he meant much to her, that she looked: Théoden had given her back her old sword, Framwine, just before they left. She could not believe that he had kept it, but she was immensely grateful that he had.

When she looked back at her friend, there was an odd expression on his face. "I think the only reason I was originally selected," he began, sighing, "was because I was close to you. Indeed, for the first months, I did not train—Théoden wanted me by his side to talk about you."

Gúthwyn digested this bit of information, mulling it over in her mind as Tun continued. "But as Gríma's influence wore on the king, he soon forgot about me. Your brother took pity, and taught me all of what I know. I am forever in his debt."

She raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. "Éomer instructed you?" she asked, trying to imagine her brother teaching someone. A brief sadness came over her as she wondered what else she had missed.

Tun nodded, but he seemed to sense that her mood had changed, and did not say much more on the subject, except: "Rohan feels his loss deeply, though I daresay he shall come back as soon as he can—especially if word gets to him that his sister has returned. It was only under Gríma's orders that he was banished, for Théoden barely knew what he was agreeing to."

Gúthwyn's hands curled into fists. "That foul monster is lucky Aragorn showed him mercy. I would not have."

Her friend looked at her. "Even at the height of his power, Gríma did not dare speak of you. The coward knew that Éomer would have slaughtered him on the spot."

She remembered Éowyn's words from earlier: Gríma thought Éomer was a threat… made up some excuse to have him banished.

As a silence fell between her and Tun, she scanned the crowd of refugees for her sister, knowing that she was nearby. Soon, she saw her. Éowyn was talking to Gimli, a broad grin on her face as the Dwarf said something. Despite Gimli's stubborn dislike of horses, today he was riding on top of one.

Gúthwyn had been watching the two of them for a little less than a minute when the Dwarf's horse suddenly took fright and bolted. It only ran a few paces, but the straggling line scattered, and Gimli was thrown to the ground.

"Is that your friend?" Tun questioned as Éowyn ran over to the Dwarf, pulling him up and patting him on the back. Clear laughter rang through the air, and Gúthwyn marveled to see her sister so happy.

"Yes," she replied, "though none too at ease around horses, as you can tell."

Éowyn looked up as she spoke, her eyes traveling past Gúthwyn and Tun to another sight. Gúthwyn turned slightly and saw Théoden, sitting upon Snowmane and watching his niece help the short guest. But it was not to her uncle that Éowyn gazed: Aragorn was beside him, and it was the Ranger who had captured her attention.

Gúthwyn noted that her sister's cheeks colored slightly when Aragorn's eyes met hers, and she reminded herself to inquire about it later. Despite having been separated from her for over seven years, she knew that Éowyn was captivated by brave deeds and noble fighters—Aragorn certainly met those requirements.

She continued to watch her sister, even as the smile faded from Éowyn's face.

Legolas sat at ease upon Arod, keeping the horse just behind Aragorn and the king's. A slight grin was on his face at Gimli's recent mishap, though he was also glad that his friend had not been hurt. A few months ago, it would have been near impossible to believe that he would be so concerned about a Dwarf's well being, but he was not the least bit ashamed to have seen the error of his ways.

"I have not seen my niece smile for a long time," he heard Théoden say, and glanced over at the king. "She was a girl when they brought her father back dead—cut down by Orcs."

Legolas looked at Éowyn, who had a large smile sweeping across her features. He could certainly tell why they called her the White Lady of Rohan: Before Gandalf had lifted the enchantment from Théoden, she was pale, and cold as winter. Now, the sunlight was in her hair, making almost as golden as Galadriel's in appearance, and a healthy glow was in her face. Legolas knew that this was, in no small way, due to Aragorn. It was clear to see that Éowyn was enamored of him.

"…should have loved her as a father." Legolas realized that Théoden was still talking, and focused his eyes back on the king.

After a slight pause, Aragorn replied, "No harm has come to her from lack of attention on your part. Rather, it is the attention from Gríma that I worry about."

Théoden's back muscles tightened. "Ever that snake seeks to harm my family. Éomer has been banished. The Valar know what Éowyn went through, alone in a darkening house. Théodred has perished, and now I wonder if Gríma did not have his hand in the death, in one way or another. And Gúthwyn…"

"You did not know better," Aragorn was quick to remind him. "Gríma took advantage of your grief. It is not your fault."

The king's shoulders were slumped. "For four years, she was in Isengard," he said. "Isengard, not even a week's ride away! Yet we thought she was dead, and now that she is back…"

"She loves you," Aragorn replied. "She may not think so, and you may not think so, but she has always leapt down the throats of anyone who insulted you or your people."

"Where is she now?" Théoden asked. "I have not seen her since we left."

Legolas saw Gúthwyn first, as he had been watching her from time to time. "She is with the guard, close to her sister," he said quietly. For the entire journey, she had been in glad spirits, chatting nonstop with the guard. They must have been friends before she was taken from Rohan, as he had been the first to attack her when he thought she was someone else, and the first to swear service to her when he saw otherwise.

More than ever, it saddened him to know that she still feared and loathed him. He had hoped that, after being reunited with her family, she would find it in her heart to be friends, but evidently not. His mere presence made her tremble, and instantly put her on defense. When he had spoken to her in the stables, she had not even been able to saddle her horse correctly, though he knew that she could normally have done the task with her eyes closed.

Offering her help had been a big mistake. She had spurned it, her reaction stingingly cold, and he had decided that any further attempts at reconciliation would only make her hate him even more. So he had left, and when she had emerged from the stables she had ignored him, going to her sister and staying close by her side. When Théoden had presented her with her sword—she had it on the horse now, and was constantly checking to make sure it was there—she had been delighted, but even when their eyes met he had seen some of the happiness fade.

"I fear she did not tell me half of what happened to her," Théoden sighed, running his fingers through his hair in worry. "The Valar only know…"

Gúthwyn had most definitely not told them all that there was to hear. Her explanation about Haldor was not nearly satisfying enough. Legolas did not doubt that he had forced her best friend to kill his brother, but that was no reason why she was so terrified of the Elf. She had mentioned that the brother had died because he refused to torture her… Had Haldor been torturing her beforehand?

Even if that was true, Legolas did not think that it was memories of physical harm from the Elf that had Gúthwyn trembling in a frozen horror, her eyes wide and her breathing ragged. His own mind kept drifting back to the complete and utter control Haldor had exuded over her when he commanded her—three times, he had given an order, and three times, she had obeyed him.

"Did she say anything to you," Théoden began, and he took himself out of his thoughts to listen to the king, "while you were traveling with her?"

"About her past?" Aragorn responded, shaking his head. "I know no more than you do, my lord. For a long time I had suspected her of being a servant of the Enemy, and I certainly kept a close watch on her, but she reveals very little about herself."

Théoden sighed. "I feel as if I hardly know her," he murmured sadly. "My own niece is like a stranger to me."

"Do not worry," Aragorn said. "She will come around; you shall see."

"More than anything," Théoden replied, "I pray that you are right."

Legolas looked at the king. He would have liked to believe Aragorn's words, yet he could not help but remember the absolute hatred in Gúthwyn's voice as she had screamed at her uncle. They were terrible things to hear from one so young—she could not have been twenty—and even worse to know that she truly thought the king had abandoned her.

For a moment, she had had him convinced that she was evil. To speak so cruelly of Théoden's niece was not at all something he had expected from her. "She is pathetic! She is less than that dog lying upon your hearth!" she had shrieked, and he had actually felt the bile rising in his throat. When she had been revealed, and welcomed back into the royal family with open arms, no one had addressed those words, seeming not to know what to say. Yet he was willing to bet that they had nothing to do with Théoden and everything to do with Haldor.

Sounds of faint laughter met his ears, and he looked over to see Gúthwyn giggling at something her friend had said. As he watched, she put a hand on his arm and laughed even harder. The guard was certainly doing his best to entertain her, and it was working. Whereas Legolas had to fight an uphill battle just to win a civil reply.

He shook his head. Why she chose to hate him, he was unable to say. He could still feel the slap of her hand across his cheek, and knew that he had committed the crime of looking upon her tear-filled eyes, seeing her when she was at her weakest. She did not like anyone to see her in a vulnerable state—not Boromir, whom she had been close friends with, nor even her own family.

His mind went back to her story. In addition to Haldor, he would have liked to know more about her best friend. It was when she spoke of him that she had nearly broken down crying; when her shining eyes had met his, he had the strangest feeling that it was only his presence that prevented her from doing so. Clearly this man, whoever he had been, meant a lot to her.

Sighing, Legolas brought himself out of his musings. Whatever Gúthwyn's past was, he doubted that he would be hearing more of it. It is none of my business, anyway, he thought, and tried to focus his attention on something else. Absent-mindedly, he watched two of the guards come back from scouting the upcoming trail, and contemplated taking their place in order to keep his mind off of Gúthwyn.

But even when he decided to go through with that idea, and was dismounting his horse, his eyes kept going back to the mysterious woman.