Daughter of Lothlórien (An Èomer love story)

Chapter 4- The King's Son

Chapter 4- The King's Son

Third Person POV

Théodred offered an arm to Brendawyn, despite Gríma's babblings and protests. "My lady," he said with a dip of his head.

Brendawyn glanced at Éomer for some sort of acknowledgement. The man with the flaxen hair simply forced a small smile and gestured for her to leave with his cousin. There seemed to be something in his eyes, but she couldn't tell what it was.

"Thank you," the Elleth replied courteously, looping her arm through Théodred's waiting one.

He smiled brightly, leading the woman through the doorway from whence he had originally entered the Hall. The hallway in itself was constructed from hewn and sanded oak. It seemed to give a feeling of warmth in the light of the flickering candles and chandeliers. There was a single, open window at the end of the hallway; hidden behind a thin sheet of glass. The rolling green hills of the Riddermark were just visable from Brendawyn's current position.

Thoédred insisted on escorting Brendawyn to one of the finest rooms in all of Edoras. It overlooked the Western plains and her homeland, which was somewhere in the distance. The room was spacious and well-furnished. A sliegh shaped bed sat against the wall as she entered and a dresser stretched from the doorway to the first bedpost. The wooden floors were covered in some sort of animal skin, and a crackling fireplace sent a jolt of warmth down her skin. "It's beautiful," she said quietly, taking her arm from the Prince's and running it over the sanded bed post.

"It was my mother's room," he said softly. "Before she wed my father, she was an emissary sent here for protection against the Wild Men of the North. She stayed here for many moons and when time came for her to return home, she wedded my father instead. She died when I was seven."

Brendawyn hung her head.

She knew what it was like to lose a mother.

"I lost my mother when I was young as well," she said. "My brothers took care of me afterwards."

"What about your father?" Théodred asked, his hazel eyes seemed confused.

Brendawyn shifted, diverting her gaze from his own. "He was lost that day as well."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"And I for yours."

The two shared a moment of silence; each with their own thoughts. "I will send my cousin Éowyn to welcome you. She will be sure to draw you a bath, and once you've cleaned up, we can see about a feast."

"You've been too kind, my lord," Brendawyn dipped her head once more. "I did not expect such friendship from those who did not know me."

"You are here on diplomatic reasons, my lady, therefore you will recieve all that should be expected from those who are at your service." The Prince gave a little bow and turned on his heel to leave the room. He closed the door behind him and smiled softly.

Brendawyn looked around the room once more before yawning and giving a little stretch. A bath would do her some good. There were several knots in her back from sleeping on the hard ground and her skin seemed to be dusted with an inch of dirt. She chuckled at her sudden care of appearance.

Her eyes wandered to the window overlooking the world she'd left behind. She wondered how her brothers were. She wondered if Galadriel had told Haldir where she had wandered off to- but most of all, she wondered what had happened to the Ring. No, she wondered what would happen to Middle Earth because of the Ring.

With a sigh of frustration, she plopped down on the bed and jerked her boots off. Her feet were red and sweaty from being stuffed into the leather for several days. Brendawyn wiggled her toes for a moment, enjoying the breeze from the window on her exposed skin. Perhaps Rohan wasn't so bad afterall, she thought. Éomer and Théodred were certainly making her feel welcome, but- she swallowed. Something wasn't right about the King's advisor Wormtongue. But then there was the King himself who certainly didn't seem like himself.