Disclaimer: I think you know what I'm going to say, so let's just go on with the story…

Broken - Chapter VII

Hope

Helm's Deep, March 20th, 3018 T.A.

A cool breeze played with Théodred's blond hair as he stood atop the wall, watching the riders leave. The sound of hooves echoed in the Deeping as three hundred horses galloped down the runway. Faire and swift mounts carrying strong and bold men of Rohan. Banners held high and spears pointing towards the vast sky.

Théodred hated to send the men out without joining them himself, but he was still needed in Helm's Deep. Yesterday, Erkenbrand's second in command had taken two hundred riders to the West-march and now Erkenbrand himself was riding to the lookout of Westridge.

When the Deeping was silent again, Théodred strode down to his field tent. Once the men had left and only Théodred's escort of one hundred men remained, there was nothing to be done and he needed to be alone for a moment.

When Théodred reached his tent, he stepped inside and started to take off his tunic and shirt. Some of his old scars had started reddening and itching, and though they weren't that bad, Théodred was still reminded of their existence every now and then.

Walking to the basin, he splashed fresh water over his face, wincing slightly as the water ran down his chest and back, touching the cuts and bruises. He knew that some of them probably needed better care, but the water had to do for now.

The worst thing, though, was to hide the scars from his men. He wondered how they would react if they found out that their Prince hadn't received those cuts in battle… but by the hands of the King's advisor.

And the pain he himself felt inside was far worse than any physical pain. It was pain that had haunted him for more than half a year, and he knew he wouldn't get rid of it. It was his burden to bear.

Théodred was pulling on a clean shirt and was tying it up when a female voice interrupted him.

"My lord?"

Surprised, Théodred walked up to the entrance and pulled aside the fabric. Outside stood the woman from the stables with linens and a tray of food in her hands. She blushed slightly as she saw his partially bare chest.

"I was asked to bring you some food, my lord. The kitchen hands said you haven't yet had breakfast."

Théodred didn't really feel like eating, but he knew the girl would be flustered if he refused.

As he stepped aside and motioned for her to enter, she timidly stepped past him, putting the tray on the table and the linens on the bed.

"Thank you." Théodred said without taking his eyes from her. After a moment of hesitation, he added, "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

"We met briefly when you saved our village from a band of Orcs. My name is Dríana… my lord."

A tiny smile appeared on Théodred's lips. "How come you're here, my lady?"

Dríana blushed and dropped her gaze. She was far from being a lady, and even less so considering that she was in the presence of the crown prince. Unconsciously her eyes found his bare chest again, but as it made her blush even more she decided that it was better to look the prince in the eye.

"My uncle brought me and my sister here for protection. My cousin is one of the riders…"

"Your cousin?" Théodred said a bit curiously. "And who might that be?"

"His name is Déor, my lord. He rides with Lord Erkenbrand." She said and Théodred saw that she was getting more comfortable speaking with him for every passing moment. "He's an archer."

"Yes, I remember the name… a fine young rider."

Dríana smiled. "He will be pleased to hear that, my lord. He holds you in very high esteem. We all do."

Surprised, Théodred didn't quite know what to say in response. However, seeing the Prince's uncomfortable expression, Dríana quickly changed the subject.

"If you'll excuse me, my lord… I don't wish hold you from your stew any further. Please, eat as long as it's warm. You look like you need it, your Highness."

Before Théodred could say another word, she had vanished through the entrance, leaving him alone with his reeling thoughts and his shirt still unbuttoned.

-0-0-0-

At dawn the next morning, the men were going by their usual business when a rider was spotted coming towards the fortress. As he trotted his mount up the runway, the gates opened and one of the younger soldiers sprinted off to inform the Prince.

When Théodred made his way through the ranks of soldiers a few minutes later, the messenger bowed his head in recognition of the Second Marshal.

"My lord, I bring word from the Eastfold. The attacks have ceased and the riders of Westfold are returning. Lord Grimbold is bringing back the whole company immediately."

Théodred frowned, despite his relief. If Grimbold was returning, it meant that Westfold would soon be fully mustered again, but it also meant that Grima Wormtongue had reason to try and stop Théodred.

"Send word back to Grimbold that I will be waiting for him." Théodred said finally, talking directly to the messenger. "But tell him to be careful. He is needed in Westfold, and I don't want him to be held up by any complications on the way here."

The courier bowed his head, mounted the fresh horse he had been given and rode out of Helm's Deep.

Théodred stared long after him and hoped that he would reach Grimbold without complications. He had the feeling that Wormtongue wouldn't be too happy to find out that the riders of Westfold were returning.

Edoras, March 22nd, 3018 T.A

Word from Eastfold had reached Edoras four days ago and Èowyn was glad that her brother was coming home again, even if it was only for a short time. She knew, though, that he would be shocked to learn that Théodred had ridden to Helm's Deep.

Èowyn was standing outside the royal stables when she saw a lonely rider approach the city from the west. Frowning, she abandoned her tasks and quickly ascended the stairs to Meduseld. However, as she stood at the top, she hesitated. What if the rider was carrying word from Théodred? He was coming from the west after all.

She turned back around and descended the stairs quickly as the rider halted his horse. Upon recognizing Èowyn, he dismounted and greeted her.

"My lady, I'm in dire need of a rested mount as I need to reach Lord Grimbold as soon as possible."

Èowyn motioned for a soldier to bring water to both horse and rider, and then have another mount ready for the courier. She then led the man slightly aside.

"You come from Helm's Deep?"

"Aye, my lady."

"Do you have news from my cousin?" Èowyn asked hopefully.

"Yes, lady Èowyn… but my message is meant for Lord Grimbold alone."

"I understand, but is he well? I haven't heard anything from the Westfold since Théodred left."

"Aye, my lady. Lord Théodred is well, but he is worried that the Westfold companies will be delayed if they ride through here… and that is why I must ride in haste to meet them."

"Of course." Èowyn said with an encouraging smile. "But fear not. I think Lord Grimbold is aware of the complications and might be taking his riders straight to Westfold. When word reached Edoras of the riders' return to Aldburg, it spoke only of my brother Èomer."

"Thank you, my lady." The messenger took the reins of the horse that had been led up to him and set off towards southeast.

-0-0-0-

From his chamber window, Grima had seen the rider arrive and then leave with another horse, but he has been unable to see whom he had spoken to.

However, Grima was well aware of the fact that the courier was looking for the riders of Grimbold and that those riders were probably on their way to Westfold this very moment. For Grima it was not a bad thing. It was a disaster.

Striding restlessly in his chamber, Grima tried to solve the problem, but as long as Théodred was in charge over the riders, nothing would work. They would all ride to Westfold no matter what. Finally, Grima stormed out of the room and knocked almost down a servant who was just passing his quarters.

Not even paying a single look in her direction, Grima strode through the hallways to the King's quarters. Once Théodred was within his reach again, he would have him pay dearly for his resistance.