AN: Pre-warning of character death. Don't particularly want to kill him but unfortunately it's canon. :(
Ailith sat on the steps of Meduseld, watching the sun rise slowly over the Plains of Rohan. Early morning Edoras was always strangely quiet. The City almost seemed to be like ghost-like in the dawn. Up here by the Palace, only the servants were awake but lower down in the town she could hear doors slamming shut as the citizens prepared for the day ahead.
A low rustling of a dress over flagstones crept up behind her and Éowyn sat next to her.
"How many more mornings am I going to awake to discover you sitting out here?" she asked.
"Until the men have returned and my doubts are put to rest," Ailith replied. She looked at her friend. "Do you not find it suspicious? A party of Uruks are sighted in the Gap so Théodred rides out. Shortly after, we lose all communication from the Westfold so Éomer and his men ride out. Something isn't right."
Éowyn reached out a hand and squeezed her shoulder.
"The Riders know what they are doing," she said.
"I'm still worried. I would not want to send my men into a battle with so little information."
She shut her eyes and wished with all of her heart that the ominous feeling in her gut would vanish.
A horn sounded on the wind. Ailith froze. The horn sounded again and she was running, her dress hitched over her arm and her free hand winding her scarf round her hair. She burst through the door and skidded to a halt.
"Théodred!" she screamed. He was so pale, his head lolling against Éomer's shoulder, his eyes rolling back into his head. "Be careful with him," she snapped as the Riders moved to lift him down. They hesitated.
"Aye, milady," one of them said and gently lifted him down.
"Take him to his chambers, he needs to be made comfortable," she ordered, laying a hand across his forehead. He was burning under her touch. The Riders hurried away, bearing their Prince between them. She caught Éomer by the arm. "What happened? Where are his men?" she asked.
"They were ambushed at the Fords of Isen," he said shortly. "Few survived."
She paused outside the door of Théodred's chamber and took a deep breath. She was not his friend, she was a Healer. She had no feelings for him, sisterly or otherwise. He was just another patient.
She strode in, placed the bag with her Healing materials on a nearby table and instructed the others in the room, Éomer included, to wash their hands well with soap before they came anywhere near him. Her heart sank as she cut away his blood-soaked undershirt with her dirk and saw the deep wound in his side.
"What can you do for him?" Éomer asked.
"I can make him comfortable," she replied gravely. His eyes conveyed his disappointment. "Don't look at me like that, Éomer! The only person in Rohan who could possibly heal this is Merewald and she is two days ride away. That is four days for the round trip; he will be gone long before she got here. The best I can do is relieve some of the pain and maybe stop the bleeding."
As she turned and started to unpack her healing materials, Merewald's voice instructing her on how to stop heavy bleeding repeating over and over in her head, Éomer sank heavily into a chair. In one fell swoop, he would lose his cousin and become heir to the throne, a role he never thought he would have to take.
Éowyn ran in. She gasped when she saw Théodred and she exchanged a look with her brother.
"You are going to have to tell the King what has happened," she said shakily. He nodded and followed her from the room.
Ailith mixed some herbs into water. She lifted Théodred's head and managed to get him to sip a little bit of the mixture before starting the arduous process of stopping the bleeding. She carefully washed the grit and dirt out of his wound and then fetched a wad of material and used it to apply pressure to the gash. Her cool composure vanished and tears ran down her face as he cried out in pain. His skin was drenched in a cold sweat, his blood staining her hands even as she lessened the flow. Her tears were falling uncontrollably by the time she had stemmed the flow and was wrapping a bandage around the wound.
The door to the chambers flew open and Éowyn ran in. She collapsed on her knees by the bed, her own face twisted with sorrow.
"Éomer has been banished!" she wailed. Ailith's tears halted instantly.
"What?" she gasped.
"He fought with Gríma and Gríma produced a warrant from the King. Oh, Ailith! I've lost my King, I'm losing Théodred, I can't lose my brother too!" her friend replied, hiccupping slightly.
"Keep feeding that tincture to Théodred," she said absent-mindedly and ran from the room. She sprinted through the halls and outside. He had not left yet. He was sitting on his horse, his Riders busy all around him. "Éomer!" she yelled, jumping down the steps.
He did not look around.
"I trust you have heard," he said stiffly.
"Éomer, you can't leave! We need you here, I need you here!" she wept. "Where are you going to go?"
"To Isengard. The Uruks were Saruman's; if it is a war he wants, it is a war he will get," he said grimly.
"No!" she cried. He nudged his horse forward into a trot. She grabbed his reins and tried to pull the horse to a stop but all she managed to do was pull him around in a circle, herself being dragged alongside.
"By Béma, Ailith! Let go before you are trampled underfoot!" he thundered, reining in the horse.
"Promise me that you will not ride for Isengard! It would be suicide!"
"Where would you have me go?" he asked, looking at her for the first time. She bit her lip and looked down.
"Ride North," she said suddenly. "Go to the Fortress."
"I am banished. I can't stay within the boundary of Rohan!" he said but she sighed impatiently and pulled off her father's ring. She pressed it into his hand, saying "Give this to Folcred, he won't turn you away! We do things differently on the Wold."
He stared down at it, Théodred's blood making the cold metal sticky to touch.
"The North waits for no Man," she said, her voice finally clear and steady.
"I've heard you say that before. What does it mean?" he asked her softly. She shook her head. Fresh tears brimmed in her eyes. She could never explain it. He would not understand.
"Just promise me that you won't do anything rash. For my sake, and for Éowyn's," she said.
He was in pain, terrible pain. His eyes rolled back into his head. Tiny whimpers escaped from his throat. Ailith stroked his forehead and then laid another cold cloth across it. She stood up and rifled through her bag, desperately trying to find something that could take away the pain. The athelas. Quickly, she ground up a leaf and added it to boiling water. As the familiar scent filled the room, she placed the bowl on the bed next to him and covered both the bowl and his face with a cloth so he would have to breath in the fumes.
Her eye fell on a particular bottle in her bag and she lifted it out with a shaking hand. One of her poisons. Why was it in here? It should be locked away in her rooms. She cupped it in her hands and stared at the clear liquid inside. Her eyes flicked towards Théodred's still form. It would be quick. She had sent Éowyn away to rest so nobody else would know...
No, how could she even consider it? She threw the vial away, disgusted with herself.
"Ailith?" a weak voice called. She hurried over to the bed and lifted the cloth off Théodred's face. His gaze was barely focused on her but he was there, he was with her. "Ailith, what happened?" he asked, his hand scrabbling on the bed clothes. She took it in her own.
"You were ambushed at the Fords of Isen," she said.
"What are my chances? Be honest with me."
"Not good."
As the words left her lips, the guilt of what she had just considered overwhelmed her and she started to sob again. He somehow managed to lift a hand and wipe a tear from her face. She gently placed his hand back on the bed.
"Don't move," she whispered. He smiled through his pain.
"I was going to ask you to marry me," he said. Even through her grief, her heart lurched horribly. "You are the sort of woman I would have wanted for my Queen," he was saying. "I must know, before I die, would you have said yes?"
No, no, no! She did not want to marry anyone; she was a Shieldmaiden, not a homemaker. She never wanted to marry and she never would!
"Of course," she said, stroking his forehead tenderly. He smiled contently and shut his eyes.
She felt so powerless. How could she just let him die like this? She turned and dug through the bag again until she found the vial she wanted. She held it up and read the label. Entwash Water. Strength and height, the Rider had said. Théodred did not need the height but he needed the strength.
Her last effort proved fruitless.
He was dead within the hour.