Chapter 15
As Boromir and Melody approached the closed wooden gates of Edoras, a loud cry rang out.
"Who dares pass through the land of Rohan?"
Mel jumped, but Boromir didn't seem disturbed in the least. He answered confidently.
"We are travelers from Gondor seeking shelter in these dangerous lands."
"What business brings you through here?"
"We seek only to return to Minas Tirith, to defend the people of Gondor in the war that is to come."
"Speak your names, I bid you."
Boromir held up his hands, as if to show that he meant no harm.
"I am Boromir, son of Denethor, the Ruling Steward of Gondor."
There was a pause. Then a bell tolled somewhere inside and the gates swung open. Boromir put down his hands. Mel could only stare at him for several long moments. He was… amazing. With everything that had happened, everything they had gone through together, Mel had entirely forgotten who he really was in this world. For all practical purposes, Boromir might as well be a prince!
Beyond the gates they were met by an older man with a leather helm and a spear.
"Lord Boromir, it is an honor to welcome you to our halls once more. You must forgive our caution, but war has already fallen upon our land. We are preparing to strike out for Dunharrow err the sun rises."
Boromir nodded, "We heard the sounds of battle even as we traveled. You need not ask my forgiveness. These are uncertain times."
The man bowed. When he rose, he seemed to see Mel for the first time. His eyes bulged and his mouth hung agape for a moment. Mel cringed and shuffled behind Boromir, trying to escape the man's eyes. The guard's gaze softened a little and he looked as if he might say something else, but he was interrupted by a boy who whispered something in his ear. The guard nodded and sent the boy away.
"Come," he said, "The Lady Eowyn has requested that you be received in the Golden Hall."
He spun and walked quickly down the dirt road that led straight through the city, Boromir only a step behind him. Their legs were long and Mel rushed to keep up.
"The Lady Eowyn?" Boromir asked, "The king and his son will be off at war, but I thought that the Third Marshall would be left the keeping of the royal city."
"Much has happened since last you entered our lands, my lord," the guard said, "The king's son, Theodred fell in battle on the banks of the Isen, not one week ago."
Boromir stumbled slightly, but quickly regained his footing and strode to keep pace with the guard.
"What ill news!" he said, "Theoden's only son! What a blow it must have been for him."
The guard nodded gravely, "Had he known of it, I'm sure my lord king would have been most grieved. But Theoden-king was under the spell of Saruman and so his every thought and action was controlled by the Wormtongue, Grima." The name was spit out of the guard's mouth with a vicious venom, "Under the Worm's influence, the king commanded that the Third Marshall, Eomer, be banished."
"The king seemed unwell, even when I saw him last." Boromir murmured.
"Indeed, the snake was crafty and worked slowly to fill the king with darkness. But Gandalf Stormcrow released our king from the curse and so Grima was cast out. But without his son and his Third Marshall, Theoden-king had no one left to lead his people as he rode to war. And though he bid the people chose a leader from amongst themselves, but we would have no one were he not from the House of Eorl. So we chose the Lady Eowyn, the king's sister-daughter, to be our ruler in the king's stead."
"An excellent choice," Boromir said, "She is fearless and high-hearted. She will serve the people well."
Mel thought she heard just a hint of admiration in his voice. But when she snuck a glance at him, his face was blank. Had she imagined it? She thought she probably hadn't and the thought made a weird little knot form in her stomach. She pushed away the feeling.
As they walked down the street, Mel saw people scurrying all around them, carrying baskets and pulling wagons, loading horses and their own backs with all their belongings. They were all women and children and a few old men, some too old to do anything but sit in doorways and shout out orders to those that passed them by. It was sad that they lived in such fear. They had only just got their king back and now they were in danger of losing him again in battle. But they seemed in good spirits, sometimes shouting out jibes and taunts to one another as they worked. The children all seemed to think it was a game and they squealed and giggled as they ran around, carrying things to wagons and baskets. Mel was amazed at the general mood of good cheer that seemed to fill the air.
The guard turned sharply and led them up a wide set of earthen steps. Mel could see the outline of the Golden Hall above them. It was too dark to see clearly, but firelight burned within and she could see glints of the golden artwork that adorned the archway. The guard shoved the wooden doors open and led them inside.
The hall was surprisingly dim. There was a roaring fire toward the front and center, but the room was long and so the light from the flames had a hard time making it all the way to the far end. The walls were covered with tapestries, but Mel didn't have time to get a good look at any of it. The guard was leading them on and Mel hurried to keep up. There was a flurry of activity even here, people rushing back and forth between tables laid out in the hall, some taking things out, some bringing things in, but they all paused as the strangers walked by and Mel thought she saw frantic whispering from the corner of her eye, but she didn't dare to look. She didn't want any more attention brought to her.
Ahead, on the steps of the great dais, a woman stood tall and regal. Her long blond hair was tied behind her and her dress was brown and plain, but Mel knew this was Eowyn. She stood like a warrior-queen, proud and powerful. Mel kept behind Boromir, suddenly feeling very small.
"Hail Boromir, son of Denethor, Lord of Gondor." Eowyn said, her voice strong and commanding.
"Hail Eowyn, daughter of Eomund, Lady of Rohan," Boromir replied, "It appears that we have come to your Hall at a time most inconvenient."
Eowyn's eyes flicked briefly over Mel, and then she returned her gaze to Boromir. The hall had fallen silent as the greetings were exchanged.
"You are always welcome in the halls of the Rohirrim, my lord," Eowyn replied, "Indeed, it is with relief that I see your face once more. When your steed returned to us riderless, I and my family feared some evil had befallen you. I am glad to see you well."
"I encountered trouble on my road, but I am pleased to hear that Deor returned to you unharmed. He is a fine horse."
"Indeed," Eowyn said, inclining her head gracefully, "But forgive me, I am not familiar with your companion. Did he travel with you when you last passed through?"
He? Mel thought, even as she tried not to shrink away from Eowyn's piercing stare. Did she just call me a 'he'?
"My apologies, Lady Eowyn," Boromir said, taking Mel by the elbow and gently easing her forward, "May I present Melody Bernston of-" He hesitated for just a fraction of a second, "-Rivendell. She has journeyed with me since we met there."
When Mel was brought into the light, she saw almost the same reaction on Eowyn's face as on the guard's, only she was a little better at hiding it. The lady was shocked. Mel could hear the frenzied whispers of the people in the hall, and frankly all she wanted to do was just fade back into Boromir's shadow.
Eowyn regained her composure almost effortlessly and inclined her head to Mel with a gracious air.
"You must forgive me, Lady Melody," she said, "It seems the low light deceived me."
Mel knew it wasn't the light. She looked like hell. It was no wonder really, with the clothes and the dirt and the awful haircut, that Eowyn had mistaken her for a boy. And there stood Eowyn, looking down at her from her dais, like a queen in a plain brown work dress, pity in her eyes. The embarrassment was almost too much.
"No apologies necessary," Mel mumbled as she studied her hands (oh my god, my fingers are filthy!) trying to fight her blush, "I'm sure I look awful."
Luckily, Boromir quickly stepped in and saved her from having to say anything else, "I am afraid she has been through much, my lady, horrors which she would rather not speak of."
Eowyn nodded and when she spoke her voice was soft and compassionate, "Of course. Horrors abound in all corners of the land. But, tonight you shall stay in our halls, as safe from horrors as we can make you. Come, I've had rooms prepared. And tonight you dine with me. Ceorl," She turned to the guard who had brought them from the gate. He stood at a stiff attention, "See our guests to their rooms and then back to your post. There is much to be done tonight."
Ceorl bowed stiffly, "As you command, my lady."
Eowyn turned back to Boromir and Mel, "We will speak again in one hour's time."
Boromir bowed and Eowyn returned the gesture. Mel would have bowed also, but before she even had a chance to think about it, Eowyn swept out of the room. They both watched her go. Mel was astounded. That woman was definitely all business. Not a second wasted with her. Mel was having a hard time believing she was actually going to take the time to sit down and have a meal with them.
"Come," Ceorl said, "Your rooms are this way."
They followed the guard down a long hallway that branched out of the main hall, while Mel tried to ignore the looks of shock and sometimes even a tad bit like disapproval. She tried to steel herself against it. She didn't have time to worry about what other people thought of her anyway. But she made sure to stay close to Boromir and kept her eyes firmly on the tapestries that were flying by her. She wanted to take a few minutes and really look at the stories they held, but the two men were striding through the halls with purpose and not leaving any room for dawdling. Mel was beginning to feel the first tug of disappointment, but that quickly disappeared when Ceorl opened a door to the right and steam billowed out of it. He opened another door to the left and the same steam poured out.
"Your rooms," He said, "The lady's room is here."
He indicated the room to the right. Mel peeked around the door frame. A tub of steaming water sat on a large fur rug in the middle of the stone floor. Next to it was a huge bed with a fur blanket over the top. There was a covered window on the other side of the room. Other than that, the room was plain, but comfortable. Clearly a guest room.
"And my lord's room is across the hall there. Lady Eowyn will send someone for you when the evening meal is served. I must return to my post now. Safe journey to you both."
Ceorl bowed, turned, and marched back down the hall, leaving Mel and Boromir standing alone in the hall. Mel could feel the beginnings of an awkward silence and tried to dispel it by giving him a big goofy smile.
"Well, see you in an hour, I guess." She said cheerfully, turning away, her hand on the door frame.
"Melody…"
Boromir grabbed her wrist. She stopped, turned back. His eyes were gentle, but solemn and he searched her face for a moment.
"If you need anything at all, you know where to find me." he said finally.
She smiled, a real smile this time, "Don't be silly. I'll be fine."
He nodded and then opened his mouth like he was going to say something else. But then he seemed to change his mind and let go of her wrist. Mel gave him a little wave.
"Bye."
He nodded and she shut the door behind her, leaning against it, taking a deep breath of the steamy air to calm her pounding heart. Then she realized… She was getting a bath!
Mel quickly undressed and lowered herself into the water, letting her mind wander away. For a long while she just sat in the hot water, not thinking about anything except how good it felt. She used the bar of soap that had been left and scrubbed every little bit of her. She had to wash her hair probably three or four times before it started to feel even close to how clean she wanted it to, and every time she lathered it up again she had to push through horrifying images of black orcs, dark rooms, and death. She shuddered and scrubbed until her fingers were sore and then she scrubbed some more.
Once her hair was as clean as she could stand, Mel inspected the rest of her. Her side hadn't hurt at all since she'd woken outside of Isengard, and when she finally thought to look, she could just barely make out a faint mark that might have once been a bruise. She supposed that Boromir had used that salve in her bag to heal the rib, though she had no idea how. The wonderful workings of elves… Other than being dirty, the rest of her seemed okay. Her wrists were torn up, but that was already healed nicely, along with the soles of her feet. She caught a glint of the Yavannacor when she reached up to touch the knot of scar along her hairline. She could just barely see the markings of the burn scars that lay underneath the ring. She shivered and pushed away the feeling of emptiness that overwhelmed her. Not anymore. Yavannacor was back. She didn't have to feel that anymore.
She got out of the water, which was now a dark, icky brown. Clothes had been laid out for her, a clean white shirt and brown pants. She wondered if that was because they had thought she was a guy. She shrugged. It didn't really matter. She toweled off and she had slipped on the shirt and just tied the pants when someone knocked firmly on the door. Mel furrowed her brow. It hadn't already been an hour, had it?
She opened the door. An older woman stood in the hallway with her hands on her hips and some material over her elbow. She gave Mel a once over and then she tsked.
"Ay, it's no wonder the good Lady Eowyn sent me, look at the state of ya. It's shameful, I say, downright shameful."
Before Mel had a chance to reply, the woman bustled past her into the room, tossing the cloth onto the bed, then turned and stared sternly at her.
"Well, don't just stand there, lass, we haven't time for dawdling now!"
Mel shut the door and leaned back against it to keep herself upright.
"I'm sorry… Who are you?"
"Hildwyn," the woman said decisively, "I've been sent by the Lady to see that you be tended to properly. First things first, what's happened to your hair? It looks like you let a horse graze at it."
Mel flinched sheepishly and tugged at one of the ragged ends.
"Not exactly."
Hildwyn tsked again.
"Well, there's nothing to be done about the length of it, but I think I can at least make it a straight cut for ya."
She jerked a chair in front of her, and pulled a comb and what looked like a pair of kitchen shears out of a pocket of her apron.
"Have a seat, dearie."
The tone of the woman's voice was kind, but left no room for argument. Mel did as she was told and Hildwyn got to work snipping away. She was quiet and efficient. It was possibly the quickest haircut Mel had ever had in her life.
"There," Hildwyn said as she made one final snip, "Not my best work, but it'll do in a pinch."
Mel barely had time to wonder what exactly the woman had done before she was off again, sweeping around the front of the chair to give Mel's appearance a critical eye.
"Now, what in the world do you think you're wearing?"
Mel looked down at her clothes, but couldn't come up with an answer that didn't make her sound like a smart-ass.
"What were they thinking, leaving you that awful get-up?" Hildwyn said, sounding as if she were on the verge of finding whoever 'they' were and putting them over her knee.
"Uh, that I was a boy, I guess?" Mel shrugged.
Hildwyn shook her head and flapped her hands at her.
"No excuse, no excuse at all! Here now, you put this on like a good girl."
She walked over to the bed and gave the cloth that she'd had earlier a good shake. Mel could see now that it was a simple, undyed, cotton dress.
"It's not the prettiest thing by any means, but the Lady says you're to be dressed properly if only for one night. This should fit you fine."
Mel took the dress and finally managed to work in a quick, "Thank you."
Hildwyn only hmphed at her.
"Thank the Lady Eowyn when you see her. Now put it on, let's see it."
Mel turned her back and changed quickly. When she turned back around, Hildwyn inspected her thoroughly for several silent moments. Mel wondered if she should strike a pose.
"Well, quite a difference it makes to you, being dressed properly. Go take a look at yourself, love, go on."
The woman gestured to a full-length mirror that hung on the wall. Mel had been avoiding it since she'd stepped in the room, but now she took a deep breath and walked toward it, trying not to feel the flutters of anxiety in her gut. It was the first time she had seen herself since Lothlorien. A lot had happened since then. She took another breath and stepped in front of the mirror.
It was shocking, but not as bad as she had thought it would be. Her hair was the worst part. It didn't look bad, she was sure that was thanks to Hildwyn's trim earlier, but it was so short, only to her jawline now, her gentle waves quickly turning into curls with the shorter length. Mel gently touched one of the trimmed ends. She had loved her long hair. She let her hand continue up, tracing the purple scar that ran from the right side of her hairline to the middle of her forehead. She hadn't realized that it was so visible. It didn't feel that bad, just a bit of raised skin when she ran her finger across it.
"That'll fade with time, dear," Hildwyn murmured behind her, "Don't worry your head about it."
Mel forced a believable smile on her face.
"Worry? I wasn't worried. Just looks worse than I thought it would that's all. But the hair looks great!" she said, turning back to the older woman, "Thank you again."
Hildwyn hmphed in answer and straightened her apron.
"As I said, you can thank the Lady of the house when you see her," Hildwyn said, suddenly pushing Mel off in the direction of the door, "Now off we go, it's supper time."