Author's Notes: Here's the next chapter. I hope you like it and please keep reading my story.

The Withered Kingdom

A mound in front of the mountains jumped out in the scenery, houses, huts were set upon the mound, at the top was a large square castle with gold wrought into it's walls of stone. Surrounding the mound at the bottom was a wall of stone with wood spikes pointing up at the sky. Some had Orc head's sticking on them. "Decorative skills need a bit out work, unless their all goths" I mumbled as I rode up to the open gates behind Èomer and his ill cousin.

It was mid morn, the sun was a quarter of the way up in the sky hidden behind ill favoured grey clouds. A group of three guards lifted Theodred from Èomer's arms and carried him away and stable hand's took the horses to their stables. I felt the burning eyes of the villager's watching me like I was a monster. It wasn't their faults to see an Immortal or even a Nymph this far South was rare, some didn't even know what I was.

A woman with sandy blond hair ran down the steps with her hair streaming behind her like a flag of gold. Her face was as pale as the Moon's face, it almost made her look ill from afar. "Brother? What happened? Why are the guards taking Theodred to the healing quarters" She asked with her green eyes following the guards.

Èomer bowed his head. "He is gravely injured, sister. How is the King?" He asked as he walked the steps with his sister.

She went pale then looked at me. "As he was when you left. Grima still speaks poison into his ear and the King takes it as the truth. He speaks lies about you, brother and even some about poor Theodred. He accuses of you both conspiring against the King" She opened the doors of Golden Hall of Rohan.

I pulled back my hood after guessing the King didn't have the best of personality at the moment. At the end of the hall sat an old man beyond his years with a crown set upon his head. His sandy hair had turned white and thin. Wrinckles were painted across this elderly face. His appearance made him look like a man in his 80's or even 90's whilst in actual fact he 55 years old.

Best by his side him was a black cloaked man with greasy black hair. Ill favoured, he looked. He was whispering into the King's ear and looking at us with despise. Our footsteps echoed threw the halls as we walked to him. The hall was cold and no fire was in sight.

Èomer knelt before the king. Not quite knowing what to do, I bowed and looked at my feet. "Your son is badly wounded, my lord. He was ambushed by Orcs. If we don't defend our country, Saruman will take it by force" he got to his feet and looked at King Thèoden who remained emotionless.

"That is a lie. Saruman the White has ever been our friend and ally." Grima hissed. I clenched my first at hearing the word's "Saruman" and "ally" being used on the same sentence.

"He may have been your ally but scrolls and papers can be broken. Allies do some times stab you in the back when it comes to a game of power" I spoke aloud forgetting that I was in someone else's halls.

Grima glared at me. "And who are you to talk to a King like that, Darkling?" He scoffed up to me half expecting himself to but taller, however that was proved a folly thought, I was inch taller than his slouching stature.

"Ever heard of the Stormhold family of Castdeia?" I said leaning away from him. His face passed with worry. So he was working with Saruman as I had expected. I refrained any thought of punching him because he favoured Saruman.

"Your a bit far away from your uncle in Doehas aren't you?" Grima spoke with a menacing tone. "Well, I suppose you'll have to stay here." His voice was full of rudeness like he though his words were a poison to his plan.

Èomer threw a helmet to the ground. Upon the helm was the White Hand of Saruman. "Orcs are roaming freely across our lands. Unchecked. Unchallenged. Killing at will. Orcs bearing the White Hand of Saruman" His face was stern and serious.

Grima seemed to hiss for a moment. "Why do you lay these troubles on an already troubled mind? Can you not see? Your uncle is wearied by your malcontent...your warmongering." His sickly eyes looked at the withered King then at Èomer, Grima clearly had something again Èomer or his had orders to hate him.

Èomer shifted where he stood. He looked at his sister then at me. "Eowyn, go take her to the blacksmiths, surly they can take those broken things off her wrists." He spoke to his sister, finding the excuse he needed to get us out of the room.

Eowyn looked at the broken shackles then grabbed me by the arm putting me in the correct direction, to the exit. She nervously looked at the King. I followed her slowly, looking back at her brother.

"Warmongering!" Èomer shouted as he grabbed Grima by his shirt and pinned him against by the wall. "How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price, Grima? When all the Men are dead, you will take your share of the treasure?" He said whilst holding Grima's head in place do they were face to face. Grima looked to Eowyn longingly.

Eowyn in disgust stormed out pulling me along with her. Her face red with fury. Before we could get out of ear shot I heard Grima shouting out words neither I or Eowyn wished to hear. "You are banished forthwith from the kingdom of Rohan and all its domains under pain of death"

Suddenly Eowyn broke down crying and sobbing, kneeling on the stone floor. "He can not do that, he can not" She cried under fast whimpers. "Not to my brother, he cannot. Èomer is always faithful to the King, to our uncle. Thèoden cannot allow him to banish my brother."

I stood in silence. She was right, yet I could nothing about it. "Eowyn, you should say good bye to your brother. It would be cruel to him if you did not." Valar! Was I really this emotionless and morbid?

She got to her feet. "Your right. If I direct you to the Blacksmiths could you get their yourself, tell him it's under the King's ward's order that those come off?"

I nodded. She showed me where the Blacksmiths was then ran off to see her brother.

One hour later I finally emerged from the Blacksmiths with no iron bands round my wrists. Some of the cuts and grazed were raw and even bloody. But, the Blacksmith's wife had sorted that up by binding cloth around my wrists. She had also given me a wet cloth so I could wipe the dried blood off my neck and hands. They had asked many questions, some I answered willingly but others I kept vague with my answers.

A black shaped slithered into the shadows once I stepped into the light. "What are you doing, you conniving rat?" I asked, knowing exactly who it was who slithered around like a snake. I walked up to him, tightening my bandages. "Grima, the conniving rat is you not the crow that linger's above you." I said with a smirk at my own joke.

"Nothing." He growled like feral beast and slithered off like the poisonous snake he was.

I walked up Golden Hall and sat on the raised stone platform with my legs hanging over. A guard passed me a queer look as if to question me with no words then walked away.

I sat alone until I heard someone's breaths behind me. I looked up, it was Eowyn. "Do you miss them? Your companions?" she said as she sat down with a struggle because she was wearing a dress.

I looked at the ground below and dropped the pebble. "Yes, I miss their jokes, laughs, voices and faces and even just plain convasation with them." I wondered even if they had survived. What was I to do if they did not? Bloody hell! How could I forget him! Horus, he could tell me. He wasn't dead.

'Horus? Where are you?' I asked out and waited.

'By a mound of smouldering dead Orcs and Uruk-Hais that kidnapped you. Where are you? I thought they'd took you to Isengard already!" He shouted in my head.

'In capital of Rohan. The others are they alive? Are they ok?' I asked without patience.

'Yes they were well when I last saw them from the skies. Stay where you are, I'm coming. Oh I think you've upset Legolas, he's got all your stuff.' I heard his flap of wings.

I waited and explained Horus to Eowyn. At first she was confused then she understood what is was to be a Keeper. There was a loud squawk in the air. I looked up and saw him gliding the clouds, ripping threw the wind currents. 'Show off' I said to him as he swooped down at an impossible angle. Once again he grown, his tail had got longer and his feathers were brighter and more defined. 'I think your at full size now at least I hope you are.' I said as he perched on my elbow. At least he couldn't get any heavier.

"So Phoenixes are like the Miras to us, minus the life long links?" She asked as she got to her feet. I nodded and stroked my hand across his binding Scar on his wing. It shone for a moment and faded. "I must go see my cousin. He will want to see a face he knows when he wakes."

She directed me to a guest room and left to find her injured cousin Theodred. Sadly to get to this guest room I had to walk past the King as he treacherous concilor, Grima. 'Fly round, to the window, Horus. I do not wish for you to receive abuse from that slithering serpent and bewitched King.'

Horus reluctantly flew off. I walked inside and bowed then walked on. The King sat alone looking around as if in pain like hated the sight of his own halls. Saruman's witchcraft was slowly killing the King mentally and physically. He was like a chalk cliff, slowly wasting away by the roughness of the sea and that sea was Saruman along with his devilry.

I walked to the far end of the hall and opened the door being careful not to make a sound. I walked silently threw the corridors until I came to the door of the guest room Eowyn had allocated me. The door creaked open. The room was cold, the candle light burned low. I pulled off my muddy boots and padded across the cold flooring. I came to the closed shutters and flicked the latch open. I pulled them wide and allowed Horus to swoop in. He perched on a chair's head.

I slouched in the chair with one hand propping my head up. I still felt sickly. Conversation had kept me awake and looking like I wasn't going to throw up. Horus was dozing. I picked up a dark red apple from the fruit bowl and looked at it. My stomach lurched. I bit into it. The sweet juice slid down my throat. My stomach calmed.

After eating the apple and drinking two cups of water, I didn't feel so I'll any more. Still, the chloroform was circling my blood. Hopefully some rest would shy the after affects away. I took off my cloak and my leather coat, leaving me in my shirt and leggings. I pulled my hair into a half hearted messy bun and sat on the edge of the bed. It was now afternoon.

Maybe it was time to show my uncle I was still alive. With cringes of the stinging, I pulled back the bandages that were wrapped over my Nymph scar. My free hand rested over the scar. I felt the burning then pictured the sky hanging over Doehas. I heard a crackling sound and then saw my Nymph Scar amongst the clouds. A sharp breath came from my mouth. The burning was always going to be intense if you were far away from where you were projecting your Scar, I knew that but I hadn't expected it to be that intense.

I curled up like a child on the bed and closed my eyes, allowing sleep to surpass my mental barriers.