From the dark, dreamless sleep Alenor heard a voice calling to her. How long had she slept? Stirring slightly Alenor opened herself up to the waking world. Eowyn was by her bedside holding up a blue slashed with silver dress, that was worn on royalty.
“What do you want?” Alenor asked groggily sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Theodred was banished for the moment in her mind.
“Theodred died during the night Alenor. Theoden will not come to his burial, you must come,” Eowyn said still holding the dress. Alenor was joggled awake as she remembered. Numbly she forced down the tears. “It is alright to cry. I cried myself against my wish” Alenor hurriedly masked her feeling so that Eowyn would not see them, how foolish she had been letting that one slip!
“I will not wear that,” she said firmly standing up. Again the thought was running through her head. Eowyn shoved it at her.
“The clothes you wear now are tattered and ripped. You will put this on by yourself or I will force it over your head and tress you up and drag you to the funeral,” Eowyn said. Alenor found a small bit of humor in it and a small smile crept upon her face.
“This once Eowyn I will wear a dress and no more,” she agreed and walked behind her makeshift changing wall. Alenor was slightly surprised how far she could press the sadness how far she could put it away. She stored her grief with all the others waiting for a break in the defense to rush forward. Alenor took her time unwilling to see Theodred buried, that last time was enough. “He said he loved you Eowyn. He wanted me to tell you that.” Alenor came out feeling absolutely ridiculous.
“Thank you Alenor for relating this to me,” Eowyn said clasping her arm. Together they walked out of the one-room cottage. Into sunlight they walked yet all seemed deathly silent as if not just the people were mourning Theodens son’s death, but the whole earth as well. It whispered in the wind in the moving grass blades and flowers. Everything whispered around them as they walked toward where Theodred would be buried.
Alenor stood there woodenly watching the burial to take place. There was no need to hold back the tears for the grief that she felt as Theodred was laid to rest now the sadness was too deep to be expressed in tears and it helped that it was stored away with all the other grief. Eowyn stood by her and her face was so set Alenor was sure she was about to march into battle without a flinch she did so even with the funeral song. Standing though listening to the mourning voices of the earth and people Alenor wanted to run. Run like she had never done before, but her mind was trapped, trapped in a web of memories that she spent with Theodred. A faint sad, smile trailed upon her lips as she remembered a particular favorite.
Theodred reached down and pulled Alenor to her feet and he smiled. His smile was so innocent Alenor forgot all ideas of punching him in the face for laughing at her.
“You have got to be the most skilled warrior to walk this earth, but yet at the same you are the clumsiest. How can that be so? Will falling by tripping in over your own to feet in battle save your life?” he said with a sincere smile. Alenor gave a mock cry of anger and lunged at him dropping her practice sword to the ground. Theodred’s sword dropped as well as they clashed head on with each other. The clash turned into a play fight one where there was no winners or losers. With time though she acquired balance that was needed in battle or everyday needs.
“Alenor, it is over, I am sure you wish to change,” Eowyns voice broke into her daydreaming. Reluctantly, yet eagerly Alenor came back to the world. Silently she followed Eowyn back into Edoras hands gripping the dress above her ankles in death like grip. Her mind turned though as she tried recall memories of her past, before Edoras. She met a blank wall of nothing. Have I really spent so much time here that I remember nothing after that day I was exiled? Alenor wondered.
“Can we go to my cottage first Eowyn. I wish to change my clothes. I feel like an idiot wearing this,” Alenor said. Eowyn nodded at her friend.
“I’ll meet you on the steps,” she agreed and walked off with Alenor turning her own direction.
Changing with natural swiftness Alenor soon met Eowyn upon the steps of the Hall. She was standing there with a sudden wind blowing against her legs. She was looking far off. Encouraged by this notice Alenor looked to. Three horses came their way, Alenor could pick them out easier with her keener eyesight. Suddenly she heard the sound of something ripping in the wind, looking she saw in dismay as one of the flags from the Hall ripped from its post and was blown away. At this Eowyn hurried away back into the Golden Hall. Alenor stood unmoving and found herself thinking. Is it an ill-omen that the flag ripped from its post? Does it mean there will be end to Rohan, she wondered feeling her marrow freeze. She was one of them, to whatever death she would follow valiantly. She turned with haste from those thoughts to look upon the nearing rider. Even with grief she still felt at Theodreds dreath and possible ill-omen Alenor found herself thrilled at the thought of guests. For she had seen no one come to Edoras for a long while.
Shielding her eyes with a hand Alenor watched as the rode through the city’s wooden gates. Everything was stilled in time it seemed suddenly, woman stopped talking in the streets and brushing dirt from doorsteps. Mothers held their children near and men watched with a protective glance. Alenor’s eyes roved hungrily over them unafraid and curious. There was a Dwarf upon a horse with someone else. Alenor was sure it was an Elf, yet uncertain all the same. Her eyes passed over the man quickly for he was no difference to her, last of her eyes landed upon the horse she knew well. Shadowfax! Her leapt as she saw that horse, but her heart went cold at seeing Gandalf. She did not like the wizard much, remembering the time he taught her the lesson on why not to anger a wizard. Yet, she acknowledged turning to go back into the hall, previous excitement gone and curiosity as well; maybe he can heal Theoden, my King. The doors opened for Alenor easily as she was well known around the place. Avoiding looking at Theoden who sat as usual staring vacantly and older then he should look upon his throne. Alenor turned her gaze upon Wormtongue. Her lips curved into an evil smile at him, pathetically sitting there thinking he was the might of all. He did not see her as he was so busy talking with Theoden, whispering deceitful words in his ear. Before the day is done Wormtongue I hope that you are exiled! For Gandalf comes and with him comes the power of the Istari! She thought slipping behind a column to watch this spectacle that was sure to erupt.
Soon afterwards the doors opened to admit the four travelers deprived of weapons, mostly likely Wormtongue’s orders. Alenor followed them slipping like a shadow from column to column unlike the men on the other side of the Hall. She noticed the one who now she was sure was an Elf, watch intensely as he moved his arm from Gandalfs. Alenor saw his staff hidden under his robes and again her lips curved into a smile although not as evil as her first. That was when she felt his gaze upon her. He was staring the spot where she was hiding as if knowing someone lurking there.
“The courtesy of your Hall had lessened somewhat of late Theoden King,” Gandalf’s voice rang out. He showed his staff now openly. Alenor peered around her column and saw with delightful pleasure Wormtongues fear. Before a word was from his mouth Alenor strode out into the Hall unmasking her presence.
“Hello Wormtongue,” she said with a pleasant snarl. “Enjoying yourself today?” Wormtongue turned his gaze upon her.
“You betrayed our Hall Alenor!” he hissed towards her. “You shall be exiled!”
“What proof do you have?” Alenor asked calmly flowing towards him. “What proof its there against me that I shall be exiled.”
“Gandalf the Grey has come!” Wormtongue growled. “Lathspell I name him. . .”
“Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to pass words with a witless worm and witless woman of Rohan,” Gandalf interrupted. Alenor balled her fists at the insult, angry even though she knew Gandalf had a reason to call her so. At once Wormtongue issued an order seeing his staff and the men who where lurking unsuccessfully as shadows came running out to attackthe supposed unarmed four. Seeing nothing else to do as there were coming at her as well she flung herself into the frenzy of flying fists.
“Which side are you on?” the Elf said as his fist came level with her face. She glared at him ducking and tripping the man who had come upon him from behind.
“Figure it out!” she shouted back to him averting a gaze to Gandalf who was approaching the King. Alenor raised a fist to punch someone else when everything went still as death. Alenor spun around to see Gandalf in white instead of grey approaching Theoden with his staff down.
“Theoden! My lord!” she cried rushing forward to his side. The Elf reached out and grabbed Alenor’s arm. Alenor whirled on him to punch him, but as if expecting such manner he grabbed both her arms and held her forcefully. Alenor out of the corner of her eye, as she was staring extremely upon Gandalf, saw Eowyn being held more calmly by the man. Furiously she fought against the Elf holding her as she watched Gandalf do something to her beloved King. The Elf was relentless and only tightened his hold. I should have never let him come into Edoras! I hate him! Alenor screamed at herself.
*- Hey! This is only my third time posting. I’m hoping people will post comments to help improve my story. Thank you for all comments that I get!
For anybody who might be confused, I twist the story around a lot, I follow the main line though! Hopefully next part will be more interesting then this and the last two!