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"I cannot allow you before the king so armed, Gandalf Grayhame" he stepped forward as if daring him his hand still resting on his sword. "You must leave your weapons at the door."

"Of course" Gandalf said he nodded and the three men who begrudged disarmed. It was almost comical seeing how many weapons they each had hidden yet I had none. Gimli pulled out several daggers that looked surely bigger than him from his boots. Along with his axes he was carrying, how did he fit them there? Gandalf smiled at the guards and began to take a step toward the door the guard stopped him

"Your staff" he said

"Oh "Gandalf said "swords and axes are one matter but surely-"

I cut him off my voice powerful full of anger "you will not seize his walking stick, you will let us pass we have business with the king." I was shocked by how strong my voice was never stuttering or faltering. Is this who I am? Is this who I was before? Was I assertive?

The group turned surprise written on their expressions, Legolas looked almost proud. Gandalf looked worried at my outburst.

The guard looked at me now sizing me up. "I have orders, from Gríma Wormtongue"

I took a step forward ready to do whatever it took to protect my dear friend Gandalf fury floating in my eyes. How dare he try to seize his staff? Gandalf has never hurt anyone or done any wrong. He rested a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him pleading at him.

"Well, Hama door warden of Théoden, my business is not with Gríma Wormtongue, but with the king of the mark. If he so wishes my staff to be laid aside then he, may hobble out here and tell me so himself" Gandalf bristled his hand still resting on my shoulder. Calming me for the rage I had against those who dare cross my dear friend. Where did this sudden bravery come from?

Hamas response was a bow, and side stepped to let us pass. I smiled in victory, it was not a small smile, and it was so wide, almost hurt.

The wooden door creaked open as we stepped inside, I blinked rapidly trying to adjust to the new lack of light. Thick golden drapery clung to the tall windows casting a warm shadow on the room. The air felt thick, not with moisture but something else, a feeling. At the very end of the hall a golden chair was set up on a dais, on it sat a ghostly looking man, his face was hollow and sickly his eyes shrouded, his hands lay gnarled and limp in his lap as if he were lame and had no use for them. I flinched at the thought, this does not look like the king I had pictured, and perhaps this is the Gríma they spoke of? A renewed fury quaked within me thinking of Gríma and his orders against Gandalf.

"Hail Théoden, son of thengel!" Gandalf bellowed still in stride approaching the throne. The rest of us followed forming the same formation we did in the forest. Gandalf at the front, Gimli and I in the middle and Legolas and Aragorn in the back.

A small weasel of a man emerged from the shadows and began whispering in the king's ear "its Gandalf the grey, my lord. HE is not welcome."

The king's eyes held no emotion "why should I welcome you Gandalf Stormcrow?' the king spoke in a weak breathless voice as if he were completely drained from the strain of speaking. The weasel man nodded rapidly his greasy hair sticking to him unnaturally.

"A just question my lord! Why indeed should we welcome you? Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear!' His voice oozed contempt "this herald of woe this picker of bones, is followed by trouble like crows. Even now look he has wanderers at his feet when he is the most ragged of the lot lathspell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest "

I was shaking with indignation, how he dare speak such words to Gandalf. I lifted my foot to step forward and a hand grabbed my elbow. I didn't have to look back to know who it was, the jolts of electricity filled me. I looked back to face him my face still filled with hostility. Why was I being so protective of Gandalf? It's not like he didn't get along just fine before me, I mean he's got to be at least 60.

"Wait" he said so quietly I know only I could hear him. I looked into his blue eyes, not wanting to relinquish, I tried desperately to stare him down to win. To plead with my eyes a release so I could run to Gandalf's defense. But as I stared I felt my eyes being to soften at the comity we both had, why was his presence so peaceful for me? Why did I feel electric when he touched?

"His staff! I told you to take the wizards staff!" Gríma streaked taking me out of my daze. I blushed thinking how I had just spent who knows how long staring into a man's eyes I didn't even know. Before I could turn 50 shades of scarlet, brigands of men rushed forward circling us all trying to get to Gandalf. Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn seemed natural all springing into action fighting off the men. I stood frozen watching my unarmed companions taking out men armed with swords. They didn't even seem nervous or hesitant easily dodging the blows and giving them in return. I saw a guard run for Gandalf out of the corner of my eye and without much thinking I tackled him. We both fell to the ground he seemed just as surprised as I was by my actions, as none of the guards regarded me as much of a threat they left me alone focusing on the men. Not now. The guard underneath me clenched his jaw; his eyes pierced me with his strife. My small frame was easily bucked off, my inexperience in fighting showing itself strong. He quickly maneuvered himself pinning me down.

"Théoden"

"Son of thengel too long have you sat in the shadows"

The man on top of me seemed to not be exerting himself at all straddling me; my arms were pinned by his. I squirmed trying to break his hold which seemed to just make him smirk.

My face grew white realizing why he was smirking and how close our bodies were and my squirming…