Théoden was sitting by his son's bed, his chin on his hands. He looked around when Ailith entered.
"So, you are the Healer who cared for my son in his final hours," he said. "Forgive me, for my memory is still hazy and I am struggling to place a name to your face."
"Ailith, daughter of Lord Ailred, sire," she replied.
"My, how you have changed," he said. "Your resemblance to your mother grows with each passing year. How is your father?"
"Dead, milord. He passed away near on nine years ago."
Théoden sighed. "A son and a friend, I discover their fates in the same day. Was my son in pain when he died?"
"I- I tried my hardest to ease his pain. He was able to speak with me at the end," she stuttered.
"What did he say to you?"
She hesitated. "He spoke of love," she said. "Love for you, your country, your people." That was half the truth at least.
"And what of your people? Who did that leech appoint to be the next Lord?"
"Nobody my lord. I will explain later," she said, moving forward and picking up the pieces of Théodred's armour she had dropped. "Now is a time for grief, not politics."
Ailith followed the funeral procession at a sedate pace. Théodred was to be buried in the tomb that had actually been built for his father. Éowyn, walking beside her, held out a hand and she gripped it thankfully. Together, they stopped by the tomb and waited for the body to arrive.
All of Edoras had gathered to say farewell to the Prince. As Ailith looked around, she was strongly reminded of the day her father had been buried. A similar amount of people had gathered; she had felt similarly empty; it had even been a similar time of year.
Éowyn stepped forward as the Riders bearing Théodred's body drew level with them. She took a deep breath, tried to still her shaking hands and then started to sing. It was the funeral lament, sung in Old Rohirric., and Éowyn sang it beautifully.
A sob escaped from Ailith as she saw Théodred's face for what would be the last time. Suddenly, the sorrow over her parents' deaths that she had long kept buried overwhelmed her. She wept, for both her lost friend and the parents she had barely known. Her father's death had been inevitable in the face of his illness but he had not deserved to die the way he had. Her mother and Théodred had passed away before their time. She had many memories of times with Théodred but she had precious few of her mother. Ailith had been so young when she had died that she could barely remember her face.
She lifted her face skywards and mouthed the final word along with Éowyn. "Bealo..."
An evil death; for those who did not deserve one.
The two children had ridden for nearly a whole day. They were exhausted and dehydrated but otherwise healthy. Ailith placed two plates of broth in front of them and they started to gobble it down.
"There was no warning," Éowyn said angrily. "The Wildmen came upon them before they could defend themselves. Now the Westfold burns, rick, cot and tree."
"Where is our Mama?" the little girl, Freda, cried. Éowyn hushed her and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Ailith handed a plate of food to Gimli and the third companion, Aragorn, and then sat opposite the children.
"I warned you that this would happen," Gandalf said from his seat next to Théoden. "This is but a fraction of the damage Saruman could unleash upon your land. Protect your people; meet him in battle head on." He placed a hand on the arm of Théoden's chair, saying "You must fight."
Théoden straightened up, staring at Gandalf's hand. The gesture was reminiscent of Gríma's wheedling and Ailith and Éowyn exchanged a worried glance.
Aragorn removed his pipe from his mouth.
"Éomer and his men ride north as we speak. He is a good man; he will not desert you," he said.
"They will be many leagues away by now," the King said forlornly.
"I doubt it," Ailith muttered. There was a pause and her cheeks reddened as he glared at her.
"Do you have something to say on this matter?" he asked her coldly.
"Well, if he is riding North then at some point he would have to cross the Limlight. At this time of year the river is swift and the crossing points few and sparse. It would take him some days to cross with all of his men," she explained.
"And yet if he has crossed he will have ridden even further away from us. I cannot risk my people waiting for him to return. I won't take the path to open war," he said.
"You have little choice in the matter. Open war is before you, whether you like it or not!" Aragorn said. Théoden turned towards him, his eyes burning.
"I, Théoden, am King of Rohan, not Aragorn," he said. He turned to Ailith. "And I allow you to keep your titles out of respect to your father. I personally think the whole idea is preposterous. You are not a Lord, you are not one of my counsellors."
Ailith shifted on the bench. The tense atmosphere was broken by Gimli burping loudly. Everyone looked at him and his cheeks reddened under his beard.
"What is the King's command?" Gandalf asked in the following silence.
"We shall retreat to Helm's Deep. It has provided refuge for us in the past and it shall do so now. We leave at first light," Théoden said and strode from the Hall.
"Come, we should find a room for these two," Éowyn said, picking up a sleepy-eyed Freda. Ailith beckoned to her brother, Éothain. "I think there are some rooms free in the West Wing," Éowyn called over her shoulder.
They found a small spare room and left the children to change. As Éowyn brought some hot water, Ailith returned with some furs and spread them on the bed.
"If you need anything else then my room is just down the Hall," she said. "This room can be cold at this time of year."
Freda looked tiny in the massive bed, surrounded by the thick woollen blankets and furs.
"I miss Mama," she said tearfully.
"Stop crying," Éothain said, climbing in beside his sister.
"You have every right to miss your mother," Ailith said firmly. "I still miss mine. You are lucky, you will see your mother again. I don't have that luxury."
She sat on the bed.
"Is your mother dead?" Freda asked tentatively.
"She is. As is mine. We were young girls when we lost them," Éowyn said.
"Our mother told us stories..." Freda said shyly. Her tone was as hopeful as her eyes shining in the candlelight. Ailith sighed and looked at Éowyn who shrugged.
"Fine. I have a good one," she said, moving on the bed so she was more comfortable. "Once there was a Man named Beorn. He lived not with other Men but with animals who were his friends and companions. Together they lived on the outskirts of Mirkwood. One day they had a visitor, the Wizard Gandalf. He brought with him the strangest creature they had ever seen..."
Outside, the City grieved for the Prince they had loved and lost. In Théoden's chambers, the Lords and the King buried their grief as they made the necessary plans to protect the people of Rohan. But for one night, two children were allowed to forget their cares and woes as Ailith wove a story around them.