A/N: Ooh, I'm soo digging this story. Read!

Dearest Threwen,

We've been banished. That snake, Gríma Wormtongue, has poisoned King Théoden against us and now we must flee Edoras under penalty of death. Don't worry. We'll be fine. Hopefully I will be able to send you word of how we are doing in the future. Be safe.

-Rannyn

Threwen clutched the quickly scribbled note tightly. Of course she had already known the majority of the information when she found the piece of paper neatly placed in the container where she kept her cheese. Rannyn liked cheese and she noticed he had snitched a bit. But she already knew. Like how the Riders of Rohan were now banished from Edoras and could not return. Gríma had said that he had accused Eomer of 'war mongering' and had gotten an order for them to leave. Soon after, Théodred, son of the King, passed on to join his forefathers.

It had been some time since all this occurred and nothing much had happened since then. The whole place was utterly bleak. It was like everyone had lost all optimism.

She had tried to bake but the banging of bread dough on wood made her think of him. So she opted to wash a few things. This didn't work so well either as it gave her too much time to think about everything. She hated thinking, pondering about things that had gone by. Like I've said before, her past was not something she wanted to reflect on.

She decided that the dirt floor needed sweeping, although deep down she knew that this was pointless. Why was there a need to sweep dirt? But nevertheless out came her broom and she began to sweep. This didn't last long though.

No sooner had Threwen opened the door to sweep out the last few bits of straw that had been tracked in did she see her. The fair Lady, Shieldmaiden of Rohan, standing just outside the Golden Hall, looking toward the horizon. Threwen couldn't help but feel guilty. It was her own fault that her beloved cousin had died and her brother vanished. Now all she had was Gríma, and Threwen knew how lovely his company was.

And just as quickly as the woman was there, she was gone. Apparently she went back in while the blonde peasant had been daydreaming. But Threwen needn't have worried about no longer having a diversion. Just a little while later, they entered town.

Four strangers rode solemnly through Edoras- an elf, a dwarf, and two men, one old, the other a little younger. It was the younger man that caught her eye. He had some flecks of grey in his short scraggly beard and he looked a bit tired. But it was his eyes, his eyes that caught her attention.

For as long as she had been in Edoras, Threwen had noticed that the look in people's eyes had gone from bad to worse. They'd given up. But not this man. Yes, there was weariness and sadness, deeper sadness than she had yet seen, sadness resulting from a past maybe worse than her own. But there was a glimmer in those eyes. A glimmer of something that had long since disappeared in Rohan- hope.

He looked at her. And then he turned away.

Noises. A commotion. And it was coming from the Golden Hall. Threwen looked up from the mending she had been doing to see a flying body go down the steps.

That body looks somewhat familiar…

Threwen's blood went cold. It was Gríma. Her ally, creepy though he may be, was now lying at the bottom of the stone stairs, groveling at the feet of…of the King.

What happened? How did…Wha…?

Threwen's mind started to race wildly. No. The plan. This was not going according to the plan. The King, he was no longer under the spell…what was going to happen now?

She watched as the King slowly walked down the stairs, Gríma shrinking away from him. Théoden looked angry, a burning anger toward the tiny white man. He swung his heavy sword, his eyes flashing…

Oh no!

But nothing happened. The blade did not come down. Threwen's jaw dropped as the same man, the one whom she'd seen before, stopped Théoden just in time. Gríma took his opportunity. Faster than she had ever seen the little minion move before he was out of there, galloping out of the city gates at full speed.

Threwen felt like her world had just shrunk. She was now a spy in Edoras…alone.

From the bits and pieces she heard from everyone around her, Threwen discovered what had happened. Gandalf. The wizard she had heard of, in stories from her childhood and then later on from the White Wizard, was now in Edoras and was aiding the King. Gríma was discovered. Threwen was alone.

And the man. The man, she found out, was Aragorn, son of Arathorn. There were many rumors about him. Some spoke of a rumor that he was merely a Ranger, one of those dark men who protect. But then others said things more astonishing. He was a King. He was the heir to the throne of Gondor and he was in Rohan.

Threwen desperately wondered what to do. Should she go to the wizard? Would her master want her to stay there?

A few days after the arrival she heard a knock at her door. She wiped her hands on her apron, having been preparing herself some soup, and went to the door, peering through a crack in the wood to see who could possibly be visiting her. The only people she ever talked to were the stable master and Gríma, and her meetings with the latter were only secretly.

It turned out that her visitor was probably the last person on the face of the planet that she had expected.

Aragorn, son of Arathorn was standing outside her door.

"Tell me again how you got this?"

Threwen carefully poured him a cup of hot cider, yet another piece of paper lying on her table. He had his boots up on a stool and he was smoking a pipe. It was a strange scent, some sort of weed that she had never smelled before.

He laughed at her inquisitiveness. "We met the Riders on our way here. One of them asked me to give this to a girl named Threwen if we ever made it to Edoras." He looked at her, a sparkle in her eye.

Threwen settled herself down at the table and picked up the note.

Threwen,

I hope you are well. We are patrolling the borders of Rohan, still keeping our country safe. Please be careful! Edoras is not what it used to be. Stay away from Gríma Wormtongue and watch yourself.

Being away for so long has made me realize how much I miss you. I know you still may not totally trust me, but I want you to know that I care and I hope that when I finally return to the city you'll still be there, waiting for me.

-Rannyn

Threwen sniffed. This was not what she had intended. He cared for her. But he couldn't. He shouldn't.

I need to leave. I need to get out.

She became aware of Aragorn's watchful eyes, studying her reaction. She quickly tucked the letter into the pocket of her apron.

"Is he your husband?"

Threwen's eyes widened. "No!" she said quickly.

He smirked but said nothing, only removed his feet from the stool and got up to leave. But he turned at the door.

'Thank you for the cider."

Threwen smiled at him. "Thank you for the note."

After she closed the door she went into action. Some food, some clothes, an extra cloak, a blanket, and anything else that she could carry with her went quickly into a bag. She was getting out.

End Note: It's getting good! I cannot wait to post the next chapter. You guys are going to kill me for the cliffhanger.