Fallen Heroes
High pitched, feminine laughter rang loud and clear around them. Gimli had taken it upon himself to entertain Éowyn and Rosalie while Aragorn and Théoden trailed behind. The set up was a little strange as Rosalie had refused to ride a horse, walking along side them on the ground, muttering about her butt and causing Éowyn to flush while Aragorn tried to hide a smile. Legolas had disappeared to the front of the procession, sometimes darting back to them, but for most of the trip using his keen eyesight to act as a sentry. A few times, both Aragorn and Gimli asked is she wanted to join them, but she always declined, sometimes skipping ahead and joking about how she could run circles around them if she wanted to. They had left quickly, but Éowyn had been kind enough to lend her a pack, and other supplies like a bedroll, extra clothes and toiletries, which Rosalie was extremely grateful for.
"It's true that you don't see many dwarf women," Gimli said, waggling his fingers, glancing over at the two women, though more at the blonde who was actually at his height. "In fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance that they are often mistaken for dwarf men." The dwarf widened his eyes, like he was letting the two in on a secret and the blonde lady giggled again. Rosalie grinned, trying to picture it. Aragorn leaned over to them.
"It's the beards," he whispered, stroking imaginary hair at his chin and the blue haired girl stifled her own laugh. Éowyn didn't bother to do so and Gimli continued his story.
"And this has given rise to the belief that there are no dwarf women, and that dwarves just spring up from holes in the ground." He shook his head quickly, shuffling in his saddle. "Which is ridiculous- ah!" The chestnut stallion reared, galloping away, its small rider clinging to the reigns for dear life before being tossed to the ground. Rosalie ran towards him, the others hot on her heels as further up, someone began to calm the startled horse.
Gimli ignored the hand she offered, getting off the ground himself, trying to mask the little wince as he did so, brushing dirt off his tunic. "Nothing to see, nobody panic." He said gruffly before stalking away, muttering under his breath things that Rosalie had never heard before and wasn't quite sure could actually happen, not even if those Gods he was talking to intervened. The group caught up to her, riding only slightly faster than they had been earlier and Rosalie walked in time with them.
Aragorn was still chuckling from the unfortunate fate of the dwarf when he turned to his other companion, and frowned. "Rosalie? Are you alright?" He asked but the girl didn't respond. Éowyn peered over at her. "You've gone very pale." She commented, looking just as worried as Aragorn.
Rosalie looked up at them, pain flashing across her features. "I'm imagining a woman that looks just like Gimli," she said, almost whining, shuddering a little. The ranger let out a bark of laughter. Rosalie shook her head while both Éowyn and Théoden smiled.
The ranger and the king spent most of the day talking to each other, leaving Éowyn, Gimli and Rosalie to themselves. As it turned out, the dwarf and the noblewoman had a lot more in common to talk about than Rosalie did leaving her a little out of the conversation. She didn't mind too much, plugging in her IPod, sometimes taking a headphone out to add her thoughts into a conversation, but most of the time kept to herself.
Théoden watched the strange blue haired woman. She had some sort of thin rope coming from her ears and she was shaking her head a little as she walked. "What is she doing?" He asked and Aragorn turned to look at him, following the king's gaze. "Oh, Rosalie is a little... Different from others. Those things in her ears are connected to a small device that plays music." The blonde man raised an eyebrow. "Music?"
"That's ingenious!" Both men turned to Éowyn, a little surprised she could hear them, or join in. The ranger smiled faintly. "Perhaps but her taste in music is a little strange, some of the songs do not make much sense." He sighed, looking back at her. "But it keeps her quiet and happy." Théoden chuckled.
"Keeping the woman happy keeps everyone happy. Clever." He said, not noticing the grimace that flashed across Aragorn's face. "Not quite, but essentially."
"How does it work? The device I mean." Éowyn implored, staring at Aragorn with big blue eyes, who shrugged.
"I'm afraid I don't know. She tried to explain it to me once but unfortunately I could not make much sense of it."
"I bet its witchcraft." They all turned to a guard on a light grey horse behind them. "No one has hair that colour, or such an object. It is against nature." The ranger's face hardened at his words but said nothing.
"This woman has helped to protect Rohan from Saruman, and is my guest. Perhaps you should do well to remember that before you insult her so." The king's voice was cooler and louder than the man's dark mutters. The man flushed, looking away and Théoden straightened, looking back ahead to their destination.
Night grew closer, the sky turning shades of pink and orange before Théoden gave the order to stop. Legolas had returned from the front, easily joining Aragorn and the King's conversation. People almost collapsed to the ground, forming little circles and groups. Horses were taken away, trying to make more space and blankets were handed out to the few who were desperate for warmth. Any fires were at the rear of the parade, more for cooking than anything.
Rosalie sighed as she sat down, straightening before relaxing as she heard her joints pop. "You know that is bad for you, right?" She rolled her eyes at the ranger's rhetorical question. Jeez, can never catch a break. She shrugged, looking over at Gimli who was still grumbling about the accident this morning. Legolas' eyes flickered upwards before returning back down.
"Lady Éowyn approaches," he murmured, softly enough that Rosalie didn't catch it but apparently Aragorn did as he lifted his head. Gimli got up quickly, creeping away and bumped into the blonde woman. "Gimli?" Rosalie could hear Éowyn's faint voice tinkling. The dwarf seemed a bit embarrassed. "No thanks, I couldn't," he stammered, still heading away from her and the tiny group. Rosalie didn't even need to look at the elf beside her to know he was smirking.
Éowyn beamed at Aragorn, before looking down at the pot in her hands. "I made some stew. It isn't much, but it's hot." She said, dipping a wooden bowl into the cauldron before giving it to Aragorn. The girl's nose wrinkled a little before clearing, not wanting to upset the blonde noblewoman. The stew was pretty colourless, more grey and cloudy with little white lumps bobbing to the surface. I really hope that's chicken, she thought silently.
"Thank you," Aragorn murmured, lifting the spoon to his mouth when he saw Éowyn wasn't ready to leave. He stilled, glancing up at the woman and smiled. "It's good," he said, sounding more like he was choking. Éowyn beamed anyway. "Really?" She gushed, smiling brilliantly.
Suddenly, the woman turned to them. "Oh, Legolas, Rosalie, I've ran out of bowls but if you wait a few minutes, I can fetch some for you," she sounded so earnest, so happy that Rosalie tried to smile at her. Behind the noblewoman, Aragorn was frantically shaking his head at them, glancing back and forth at Éowyn, making sure she would not see. Rosalie opened her mouth but Legolas cut her off. "Your offer is generous, Lady Éowyn but unfortunately, Rosalie and I ate earlier this evening with our companion Gimli." The elf lied smoothly.
She nodded, and turned, walking away. Rosalie looked down at her hands. "Kinda scary how good you are at that." She mumbled, knowing he would hear and Aragorn grimaced, tipping the contents of the bowl onto the floor.
"My uncle told me a strange thing." Éowyn's voice called out and Aragorn jolted the bowl back to him, hoping she hadn't noticed. The noblewoman walked back to the little group, three sets of eyes on her. "He said you rode to war with Thengel, my grandfather. But he must be mistaken." The ranger gulped, looking down at his hands.
"King Théoden has a good memory; he was only a small child at the time." He murmured, refusing to look at any one of them. Éowyn crouched next to him, trying to look at his face. "Then you must be at least sixty. Seventy? You cannot be eighty!" Her voice grew higher with every number she said. Rosalie frowned at the two of them but said nothing. "Eighty seven." Aragorn whispered, and Éowyn stared at him, wide-eyed.
"You are one of the Dúnedain!" Éowyn breathed, looking at him in awe. Doniedye? What? "A descendent of Númenor blessed with long life. It was said that your race passed into legend." She sounded breathless, like it was a dream.
Aragorn grimaced slightly at her words. "There are few of us left. The Northern Kingdom was destroyed long ago." The ranger said quietly, eyes glazing over, as if remembering something.
They stayed like that for a few moments, the ranger and the noblewoman, before she suddenly got up stiffly, cheeks a little flushed and Rosalie couldn't help the small smile on her face. "I'm sorry, please eat up." Éowyn apologised, leaving again but Aragorn didn't seem to be listening to her.
He glanced up when she left, dumping the 'stew' and looked at the silent two opposite him. "If it's any constellation, I think you look pretty good for an old man," Rosalie offered, glad when he chuckled a bit. "Old?" He repeated, trying to sound affronted. "You heard me right," she smiled and Legolas let out a laugh. These were the moments she enjoyed, the ones were everyone was laughing, and for those moments, you could forget what was happening around them.
The next day was pretty much the same. Like before, Rosalie walked, Aragorn sat next to the King and Legolas had disappeared to the front. Gimli was also riding, not disturbed by what happened yesterday, though he was holding the reins tighter, back straight and stiff in the saddle. It was calm, with blue skies, a beaming sun and just enough of a breeze to be pleasant, not chilling. But nothing stays the same forever.
A horn sounded before a scream. People started dropping things, horses becoming skittish. Hasufel, Aragorn's horse reared but the ranger held on. "Wargs!" He shouted and more people started to scream. "We're under attack!"
In the distance, Rosalie could see the elf; a yellow and green speck firing arrow after arrow at an enemy she couldn't see. Around, more horses and armed riders came forward, rallying around their king. "All riders to the head of the column!" Théoden shouted over the cries of the people around him. Rosalie started jogging ahead but was stopped by Aragorn. The look on his face told her everything. "Not this time Rosalie," he said simply, still looking down at her.
Rosalie opened and closed her mouth. "I can help!" She protested, taking a few steps back when someone ran past, clutching a giant bag in their arms. The ranger shook his head. "Wargs are deadly- they can kill you in an instant, and you are not a rider do even more disadvantaged. You are not taking part today. Help Éowyn get people to safety."
The girl sighed, glaring once at the man before turning away. She craned her neck, scanning the crowds for the familiar blonde woman. Finally she spotted her, taking off in her direction. Éowyn seemed to relax a little when she saw the blue-haired girl. "So they left you behind as well." She stated, and for some reason, Rosalie's stomach started to tie itself into knots. "Never mind, men are stubborn and arrogant," the last part was more mumbled under her breath. She sighed, and looked back up at the young woman before her. "Round up anyone that needs help. I shall be at the front of the new column and we will have to go faster, just in case. I need you at the back to make sure everyone stays safe. You will also have to act as a sentry. Do you understand these tasks?" Somewhere in that speech, the noblewoman's voice changed, becoming more authoritative and harder, the voice of a strong leader, not a weak one. Rosalie smiled and nodded, melting into the crowds.
From her place at the back, she could hear the faintest of noises, growls and shouts of metal attacking others. This time, they did not walk; they ran, sometimes jogging, when some people couldn't keep going. More than once, Rosalie was forced to help someone who had stopped, the rest of Edoras swarming around them as they stood still, like an island in a river. One time it was an elderly man who had tripped and fallen, another, a woman dragging a cart and the wheel had gotten stuck in a hole. Both times, the people were grateful to help, until they saw her face. Or more specifically, her hair.
They would stare at the deep blue hue, gobsmacked, before stuttering and quickly leaving her, like she was contagious. I get the hair colour isn't natural, but I'm trying to help, Rosalie thought sadly, watching one woman who had stiffly brushed her off, grabbing her child's hand, her beige dress drifting in between the hoards of people in the column. It had been almost three hours since most of the men, plus Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli had left them, hoping to distract the wargs. From what she could tell, they were Orcs that had things to ride.
Above them, Helm's Deep loomed. Some people started cheering and clapping and Rosalie could see why they liked it. The walls were grey, thick and tall, built straight into the rocky cliff face. A stone walkway took them up to massive wooden doors and two turrets on either side, already manned with archers and guards. Helm's Deep looked impenetrable, providing anyone inside protection.
Inside was a slightly different story. There were maybe hundreds of people already there, lining the streets, huddled together, pressed into the hard walls behind them, trying to make room for the newcomers. In the centre, was a keep, or that's what she remembered from history classes about castles. Along the tops of the walls, guards walked, covered in armour and weapons. Somewhere from amongst the people, Éowyn appeared, taking Rosalie's hand, guiding her though the throngs of people. Some of them bowed to her, though the noblewoman didn't seem to notice.
"They shall return soon, my uncle and your friends." The blonde woman declared once they were inside. The Keep was set up much like Meduseld, with one long room and branching corridors around it. There weren't as many people inside, though enough to make Rosalie feel uncomfortable. Everywhere she went, people would stare at her hair, at the vivid shade it turned in the sunlight. They would ignore mostly, unless directly speaking to her, as if her hair was a sign of evil Or witchcraft. Here in the dark, she felt safer, the blue disguised as inky black, though she still stood out against the flaxen heads of the people of Rohan.
Éowyn sighed and turned to her. "Rosalie, do you have any skill or knowledge of wrapping wounds?" The woman asked her and the girl nodded. Maybe not experience, but there was that first aid course I took first year of Uni, she thought. "Good, many people were injured when they made it here, hurt by the Wild men who drove them here. To pass the time, could you perhaps help in our Healing Houses?" Rosalie found it strange how Éowyn always acted; one moment a brave, strong leader, the next, less confident and shy.
"I'll try," she murmured and the noblewoman beamed at her. Éowyn was nice, kind to her when others were not, but in a different way to how the Fellowship members had been. They had been kind, but Éowyn understood her better than they had. Probably because she's female and they aren't. Another thought hit her.
"Er, Éowyn? I think there may be a few... Differences between my medical skills and the ones here," As Rosalie spoke, the blonde's smile was replaced with a tiny frown, her forehead creasing slightly. "... Where I come from, we probably have some... Different approaches," She was starting to ramble, but she knew enough about medieval treatment to know the St John's Ambulance may disagree on a few areas.
"Just do the best you can, I'm sure it'll be fine," the lady assured her, hauling her down one of the corridors, taking her deep into the keep, maybe even into the mountainside. Despite her encouragements, Éowyn sounded more patronising than Rosalie liked, especially since they were pretty close in age.
Whatever history had told her about medieval medicine, and how much Rosalie prepared for it, nothing was worse than the smell. It was the smell of sweat, grime, human waste and rotting flesh, which unfortunately didn't help anyone inside. The room was dark, lit by candles and torches in the walls. It was big though, with around twenty beds in this one room, with other halls off to the side. Quite a few people were already in here, most of the beds filled, with people bustling around, checking on the patients. There was no way to tell the patients and nur... Healers apart, except one was lying down, the other walking around. A woman came up to them, looking flustered, and bowed but the movements seemed jerky. She had a darker shade of blonde, almost brown Rosalie guessed and the woman turned to her.
"Rags are in the corner, by that cabinet, I would suggest you just start anywhere." The woman stated and there was a shout from the other room and a groan of pain and the woman took off. Éowyn turned, bowing her head a little. "Good luck," she whispered and left. Rosalie gaped around her for a few seconds before steeling her stomach and grabbing a handful of rags. So much for asepsis, she thought and walked over to an older man sat upright, holding his arm in a funny way, blood crusted around a tear in his sleeve.
After a few hours of bandaging the best she could, and a few remarks about her methods, above them, she could hear people shouting and the thundering of horse hooves. She froze what she was doing, glancing over at the woman in charge, who she'd learnt was named Felina, who nodded at her and Rosalie raced for the stairs, trying to remember all the twists and turns she'd taken. Her heart dropped when she found herself on the wall, and not in the Keep.
"Make way for Théoden! Make way for the King!" Someone shouted and the hoof beat got louder. Rosalie dashed back to the stairs, a lot happier when she burst into the main room and raced out onto the steps. People were crowding, trying to find loved ones, but she saw Théoden, his mouth set in a grim line. From the front, she could see Éowyn's blonde head, and the coarse red hair of Gimli, Legolas passing in, gliding through all of the crowds. Where's Aragorn? Surely they would've rode...
Her hands clenched, muscles turning to stone as the elf climbed the steps before her. Her eyes were still glued to Gimli, his head bowed in front of the noblewoman, not hearing a word of their conversation, but the dwarf's face gave it away. A soft finger under her chin lifted her green eyes from red and gold heads to blue eyes. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to, his eyes said it all. They stared at each other, before Legolas looked down at his feet, and walked around her, leaving the girl stood at the corner of the steps alone.