Prophet (a LOTR fanfic)

Edoras

Edoras was a small, squat village built on the only hill for miles around. The grey-brown buildings jutted up into the sky like trees in winter. Shadowfax slowed and stopped, and so did Dagur and Blanche.

"Edoras, and the golden hall of Meduseld. There dwells Theoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown."

Gandalf paused in his exposition, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath- seeming to taste the air.

"Saruman's hold over Theoden is now very strong." 

His eyes snapped open and he spurred on his horse.

"Be careful what you say, do not look for welcome here."

I was pasted to Aragorn's back as we approached the city gates. The guards posted on the wall looked at us warily but let us through with little resistance.

At first the houses were nothing more than shacks, tiny flimsy houses packed together tighter than sardines. The farther through the streets we went, the larger the houses became. A typical defensive strategy.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli mumbled.

"Hush, Gimli," Legolas hissed.

It was then that I noticed all the people wandering aimlessly through the streets, their eyes following our progress.

"It may as well be," I whispered.

Legolas' eyes flashed to mine, a silent question burning therein.

The horses hooves clattered against the cobbles of the walkway. Aragorn jumped off the back of the horse and he grudgingly reached up to help me down. I guess he was still bitter about the whole Gandalf thing. Some guys just can't let a little character death go.

Before he could help me down, however, Legolas was there, his hands on my hips and some rare emotion flashing in his eyes. Surely the elf wasn't jealous?

He set me down gently, and lingered a little too close for propriety. I took a step back and cast my gaze down, a blush spreading like wildfire across my face. Legolas took a step back and turned on his heel, his cape floating behind him. I saw Aragorn give me a weird look out of the corner of my eye. I took a deep breath to try to cool my face and followed a few steps behind my party.

The golden hall was an impressive building indeed. Not as glamorous, perhaps, as the halls of Elrond, but you could see the history and effort in every mark of the wood.

We came to a stop before the doors to the throne room, where an attendant stood waiting to greet us.

"I... cannot allow you before Theoden king so armed, Gandalf greyhame. By order of.... Grima Wormtongue." The attendant said, grudgingly .

Gandalf looked grim as he nodded for us to give up our weapons. Arrows, swords, and an axe clattered and banged as they were passed between hands. My arrows, bow, dagger and dear sword Iariel, I gently removed from my person and handed to a dumbstruck footman.

"We hear tell of the skill of elf women...." He mumbled, shooting me a none too friendly glance, "but never have I heard of warriors."

My eyes narrowed, daring him to say more. The unspoken words hung between us, the air almost thick with tension.

A woman warrior; how improper, impractical, distasteful.

My fists clenched and I was two seconds away from slugging him in the face when Legolas grabbed my hand. My fingers uncurled as the tension drained from me, and he squeezed my hand, towing me along behind him as we entered the hall. As soon as I had stepped through, the doors creaked and groaned and shut with a bang behind us.

Legolas dropped my hand and I immediately missed his reassuring grip.

"The courtesy of your hall has somewhat lessened of late, Theoden king." Gandalf said, hobbling along with his cane.

The form on the throne looked more wraith than man, his hair thin and haggard, and his eyes a milky blue.

"And why.... should I welcome you...... Gandalf Stormcrow..." He moaned, swivelling his head to look at Grima, the pathetic slimy snake.

"A just question, my liege," he hissed. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer of tricks chooses to appear. Lathspell I name him. Ill news, is an ill guest," he announced, stalking down the stairs from the dais, his white eyes fixed on Gandalf.

"Be silent. Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth." Gandalf commanded, brandishing his staff. "I did not pass through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm."

"The staff! I told you to take the wizards staff!"

The guards converged on us, and I jumped into the fray with such enthusiasm the guards around me staggered back. I guess they thought I would be an easy target, only a woman after all, so there was only one on me. He hadnt even drawn his sword. What a fool. As unsure as I was with pugilism, I easily made short work of him. I threw a tentative punch at him, and he easily caught my arm. I tried to pull myself from his grasp, but he held firm. I swung around, using his hold on me to pull myself towards him, putting more weight behind my hit, and punched him straight in the face. He released me with a howl, clutching his nose as blood ran between his fingers.

I flexed my fingers and took a moment to survey the scene. There were a few guards still on Aragorn, and few on Legolas still.

"Theoden, son of Thengel, too long have you sat in the shadows."

I watched as one by one, the boys beat off the last of the guards.

Gimli had Grima under his ax in seconds.

"I would stay still if I were you." Gimli threatened.

"Hearken to me!" Gandalf called, "I release you from this spell."

The dark man on the throne began to laugh - a deep, haunting laugh that made my blood run cold.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the grey," he spat.

Gandalf threw off his cloak and seemed to at once blaze with power. The puppet Theoden gave out a screech and withered in his chair.

"I will draw you Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound."

movement caught my eye, pale skin and blonde hair struggling to reach the man on the throne.

Eowyn, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in this world. Which wasn't saying much I guess, seeing as I had spent most of my time with a bunch of guys.

I was spellbound.

"If I go, Theoden dies." The man hissed, pulling me from my trance.

"You did not kill me, you will not kill him."

"Rohan is mine!"

He launched himself from the throne, as best as the feeble body could manage. Gandalf let off a burst of light, so bright I had to cover my eyes. When the light faded, he was back in his chair, slumped over and moaning. Eowyn ran then, catching him before he pitched forward.

He began to change before our very eyes, his hair regaining a lively lustre and his eyes clearer and more alert than the people of Rohan had seen for a long time.

He was back.