Ithildin - Legolas x OC

Chapter 17: Edoras

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We ride straight to Edoras, a town built atop a tall hill ahead of the snow-capped mountains of Rohan.

We stop a ways from the gate, and from my seat behind Aragorn, I turn to Gandalf as he says,

"Edoras, and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Theoden, King of Rohan...whose mind is overthrown." I look back to the hill before us. "Saruman's hold over King Theoden is now very strong." He nods. "Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here."

We ride on, approaching the wall surrounding Edoras and riding through the open gates. Aragorn turns his head, watching a flag detailing a white horse falling to the ground beside us.

Once through the gates, I gaze around as we ride through the town and up to home of the King, a bleak shadow cast over this entire place.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard." Gimli voices, the people watching us with grave and suspicious looks as we go past.

"It feels like this is a graveyard." I say quietly, the wind rustling past us.

We dismount from our horses, stable hands taking them in to shelter for us, and then walk up to the doors of Theoden's dwelling. They open just before we reach, a group of guards walking over to us as we climb the steps.

"I cannot allow you before Theoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame." The front man says. Gandalf looks confused, so he says blandly, "By order of...Grima Wormtongue."

I quirk an eyebrow.

"Ah..." Gandalf looks to us all on either side of him, then nods at us.

Reluctantly, we all hand over our weapons. A guard steps before me, so I unsheathe the two swords at my back, and each dagger across my body and legs. My ten blades, varying in length, pile into his arms.

He looks at me quizzically, so I smile politely like the Lady I am. He then looks down to my boots, a handle poking out of each one, so I huff, leaning down to pull them both out and add them to the pile. Aragorn glances to me from the corner of his eye, a faint smirk on his lips.

Eventually, the Man says to Gandalf, "Your staff."

"Hm?" Gandalf pulls a face, "Oh, you wouldn't part an old man from his walking stick?" He relents, nodding and showing us inside.

I watch Gandalf take Legolas' arm, ducking my head to hide my smile as we walk into the hall.

The Man bows to the king then steps aside, allowing us to walk through the length of the hall. I look around, the entire room surrounded by guards with a particular, un-armoured group watching us closely to the side.

Ahead, an old, weary man with glossy eyes and fading hair sits in the throne, a smaller, paler one beside him—Grima, I assume.

"My Lord," I hear him whisper, "Gandalf the Grey is coming."

We all turn as the door behind us locks, and I share a look with Aragorn when we face forward, caution in his eyes.

I turn my head slowly as we walk, watching the group of men following us at the side behind the pillars.

"He's a herald of woe."

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late..." Gandalf calls out, detaching himself from Legolas as we slowly part around a statue in the middle of the hall, "Theoden King."

"He's not welcome." Grima whispers, causing me to scowl.

Theoden rasps out slowly, as if under a trance, "Why should I welcome you...Gandalf Stormcrow?"