to love someone else

Chapter 28: edoras

''Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here,'' Gandalf warned them when they had reached Edoras. He wore a grey cloak over his white robe, completely concealing his newly acquired power. They had a plan - an absolutely foolish plan - but they were going to go through with it. A pretty, golden-haired woman stood before the entrance of the Golden Hall of Meduseld, and she looked upon them from the distance, before she retreated inside, and Aerin remembered thinking she had never seen someone looking so sad. She bore sadness in her eyes that seemed to reach beyond her own life and her own misfortunes; she seemed to bear the pain of generations.

Aerin could tell they were not welcome from the very moment they entered their domain. The villagers all gathered around them quickly, inspecting them suspiciously. With all the war in their lands, it was reasonable that they were wary of any strangers, but the way the entire place seemed to be simply sinister in itself made a chill settle into Aerin's bones. These peasants looked ready to cook them alive. It was utterly quiet, nobody spoke to them, and Aerin could almost touch the hostility in the air. ''You'll find more cheer in a graveyard,'' remarked Gimli and he was right.

Guards approached the Fellowship the moment they climbed the staircase to the entrance. ''I cannot allow you before Théoden king so armed, Gandalf Grayhame. By order of Gríma Wormtongue,'' spoke one of the guards. Gandalf gave a nod, and we took it as a sign to hand over all our weapons. Aerin felt oddly naked without them. ''Your staff,'' he said to Gandalf. ''Eh? Oh. No, you would not part an old man from his walking stick?'' he asked, and Aerin could not believe she was so close to the risk of grinning at that like a fool. He winked at her and snaked his arm around her own, and Aerin pretended to be helping him to walk. The way he pushed himself off the ground with his staff and the way Aerin had pulled on the most serious face possible made the guards buy the entire act - luckily, for they were all foolish enough to come without a back-up plan.

It was a sad picture painted before them when they entered: the old King looked much older than he was, much older than anyone Aerin had ever seen, and he looked sick, and sad, dying almost. The man who Aerin reasoned to be Grima Wormtongue sat by his side, whispering something to him, probably news of their arrival. The poor King looked more tortured the closer the Fellowship approached him, and it seemed to be difficult for him even to breathe. The sight was enough to break your heart.

Aerin had never seen anyone who resembled a snake so much as Grima Wormtongue did. He looked leery; she decided she did not like him the moment she laid my eyes on him. Like a snake he slithered around the King, whispering poisonous words to him. The small, ugly man looked to me like Aerin imagined a person touched by the shadow of Mordor would look.

Guards followed them when they entered, and they followed them closely; one of them was almost breathing down Aerin's neck. Everything seemed wrong there. ''The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King,'' Gandalf said. ''Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell I name him. Ill news is in ill guest,'' Grima spoke, each of his words nothing but venom. ''Be silent! Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm,'' Gandalf snapped at the pathetic man before him, raising his staff in the air. ''His staff! I told you to take the wizard's staff!''

The guards were ready to get their hands on all of the Fellowship. The five of them attacked before they could do anything, doing our best to let Gandalf approach the King. With all the strength Aerin could muster she hit the guard behind her with her fist. She seemed to have broken his nose, and he was taken aback, not expecting the punch. When he saw blood dripping from his face, he went forth to attack her; but the moment his fist came dangerously close, Aerin moved to the side just enough for him to miss, and took his arm firmly, throwing him over her and onto the floor.

Her fist hurt, and her back suffered, but the guard was lying on his back, and he struggled to move. ''This is why I hate fist fighting,'' Aerin grumbled, before another guard came at her. ''Don't break those skinny hands, lass,'' Gimli shouted, taking down Grima. Gandalf had already started casting Saruman out of the King by the time all the guards were lying on the ground, defeated. ''Harken to me! I release you from the spell.'' The old King laughed with malice. ''You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!''

Gandalf did not wait a second to throw away his grey cloak, and reveal his white robe. There was fear was mingled with shock in the King's eyes, and it had become clearer than ever that it was Saruman behind those eyes. ''I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound,'' said Gandalf, pointing his staff at the King, who started squirming uncontrollably in his throne. He was in pain, and he made painful sounds, and it wasn't easy to watch an old man being tortured like that, but it had to be done. Saruman needed to leave King Théoden's body. As the King gasped for air and cried in pain, the golden-haired girl appeared and tried to rush towards him, but Aragorn stopped her.

Aerin assumed that she was King Théoden's daughter but she had never heard of a daughter of his before. Then again, she was generally ill-informed of royal bloodlines that weren't of Elves. She later found that she was his niece and her name was Éowyn, and she loved her King dearly, like a father. ''If I go, Théoden dies,'' threatened Saruman, and they could now hear his voice entirely as if he were standing before them himself. ''You did not kill me. You will not kill him.''

''Rohan is mine!!''

''Be gone!!!''

The King jumped towards Gandalf, but was thrown back into the throne by Gandalf's magic, and for a few moments he sat there lifelessly. At first Aerin thought he had indeed died, but then his face started growing more youthful again. It was a miracle - his grey hair turned golden again, and the wrinkles on his face were no longer there. His eyes showed life, and his skin turned from deadly pale to warm flesh in a matter of moments. Her eyes widened to take it all in, but no matter how much she stared, it was still as incomprehensible as could be. It was something she'd remember for the rest of her life.

Èowyn rushed towards the King and touched his face with caution, before she started crying tears of joy and he said: ''I know your face, Èowyn. Èowyn...'' There was laughter and there were tears, and so much mirth. It was enough to make a dead man shed a tear of joy.

''... Gandalf?''

''Breathe the free air again, my friend.''

''Dark have been my dreams of late.''

''Your fingers would remember their old strength better, if they grasped your sword.''

The guard Aerin knocked out earlier was now bringing the King his sword, and seeing his nose, she felt a fleeting pang of guilt, followed by a strong ache in her knuckles. It had to be done. King Théoden drew the sword, looking at it as if for the first time. At that moment Aerin knew what every person in the room was thinking - there was hope again for Rohan.