Princess of the Woodland Realm||LOTR

King of the Golden Hall

The riders emerged over a hill just outside Edoras, giving the four horses time to rest a moment.

"Edoras, and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Theoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Theoden is now very strong." Gandalf spoke. The group of five eyed Edoras from a distance. Under normal circumstances, Aranel assumed Edoras would have been the crown jewel of Rohan. But these were not normal circumstances. "Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here." Gandalf warned. Aranel shared a concerned glance with her brother before kicking her horse into a gallop and following the White Wizard.

As expected, their arrival in Edoras was not a welcome one, yet there were hardly any sounds to be made out. Save for the passing sound of birds, flags, and the occasional baby's wail, all was silent as the people of Edoras stared at the passing of the Company. Seldom had they seen travellers to their lands, especially Elves, a Dwarf and a Wizard.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard." Gimli spoke grimly. Dismounting, the group climbed the stairs of the Golden Hall. Before they got too close, a guard stopped them. 

"I cannot allow you before Theoden King so armed, Gandalf Grayhame. By order of Grima Wormtongue." He spoke. Aranel did not wish to part with her bow or her beloved knives, yet when Gandalf nodded at them to hand her weapons over, she reluctantly passed them to the guards. She was still thankful for the knives' return to her from Legolas in Rivendell.

"Your staff." The guard nodded to the white staff in Gandalf's hand.

"Hmm? Oh, you would not part an old man from his walking stick." Gandalf spoke. Aranel knew the wizard well enough to know that he was putting on an act. The guard looked nervous before leading them through the doors. Aranel followed behind Gandalf, who'd locked onto Legolas' arm for additional 'support.'

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden King." Gandalf spoke loudly, keeping his arm locked with the Elf's. A man, clad in black, leaned next to the King, whispering something in his ear.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" The voice of the King sounded unnatural.

"A just question my liege. Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest." The man in black approached them. Aranel had to restrain herself from making a face in disgust. The man was foul enough without needing to smell his breath from where he stood.

"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 moved his staff across his face.

"His staff! I told you to take the wizard's staff!" The guards rushed forward, engaging with the Four Hunters. The guards seemed like they hadn't seen a proper battle in quite some time and were quickly subdued.

"Theoden, son of Thengel. Too long have you sat in the shadows." Gandalf stood alone while the Four Hunters continued to keep the guards at bay.

"I would stay still if I were you." Gimli placed his boot upon the crooked man's chest, preventing him from standing.

"Hearken to me! I release you from the spell." Gandalf's hand was raised in front of him. A slow, drawn out laugh emanated from the old man.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!" He spoke, an evil grin on his face. Gandalf tossed off his grey cloak, revealing the new white robes he bore.

"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound." Gandalf now held his staff towards the King. The struggle continued working in Mithrandir's favour.

"If I go, Theoden dies." The voice changed to one Aranel did not recognize. Gandalf didn't budge.

"You did not kill me, you will not kill him." Gandalf was adamant, pushing ever closer to the King.

"Rohan is mine!" The voice spoke once more. With one more thrust of his staff, Gandalf banished the being from the King's body. The old man groaned and nearly fell from his chair. If not for a young woman grabbing him to steady him, King Theoden would've hit the floor. His eyes cleared and settled on the woman. Aranel placed her hand on Legolas' wrist, eyes unable to be drawn from the spectacle. The King's head turned to the crowd that waited expectantly.

"Gandalf?" The voice sounded normal now. It seemed the King was back.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend." Gandalf responded with a smile. Theoden stood, trying to regain some of his lost strength.

"Dark have been my dreams of late." Theoden looked around at the faces, some old, some new. He looked at his hands, as if to wonder how he would run a kingdom with weak fingers. 

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your sword." Gandalf spoke. A guard approached, the King's sword in hand. Theoden grabbed the hilt, wrapping his fingers around the handle. He slowly pulled the weapon from its sheath and held it up. The guards stared at their King in awe, their respect mounting ever higher. The King's eyes slowly but surely landed on the man in black. Aranel watched as the King threw the man from the halls.

"I've only ever served you, my Lord!" The man tried to reason, nay, plead with the King.

"Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" Theoden shouted, his voice carrying in the wind around them.

"Send me not from your side!" The pleas came from the man all too little, all too late. Theoden raised his sword, ready to strike upon the man cowering at his feet.

"No, my lord! No, my lord. Let him go!" Aragorn's voice softened and Aranel could no longer hear him from beside the Princess of Rohan. 

"Get out of my way!" The snivelling man stood and pushed his way through the crowd, rushing from the King. He'd galloped out of Edoras upon a black stallion, no doubt returning to Saruman to warn him of their arrival.

"Hail, Theoden King!" A guard shouted. The people below, relieved to see their King well once more, bowed before him.

"Where is Theodred? Where is my son?" Theoden asked no one in particular.