Linger

V. The King of the Golden Hall

When night fell on them, they had reached the trickling stream with the dead Ent. In nature's way of decomposing, vines covered most of the black bark and grass sprouts grew through it. Legolas mourned the creature—he said no Onodrim was created evil, so the Darkness had to have corrupted it.

Come daylight, they reached their tethered horses and exited Fangorn. Rowan relished the sun warming her face; even though hot and muggy, the dark forest had seemed cold.

Mounting their steeds again, the five hunters set off following Boromir's directions—he had visited Edoras a year ago to borrow a horse, and he remembered the path. So, he led them now instead of Aragorn. Since Gandalf wasn't there to guide them, it was a good thing she had saved the Gondorian captain so he could.

It took them a day and a half of hard riding to reach Edoras. When the singular hill came into sight, they stopped to admire it.

A tall wall of wood surrounded the hill; within the walls were many houses, built alongside a road winding up to the terrace, where the great hall of men watched over Edoras. Mounds, dotted with white, lined the road snaking to the gate on either side. The roof of Meduseld did look to be thatched with gold. Snowcapped mountains lined the horizon. Shining like silver, a stream flowed down from the dale.

"There are guards atop the gate," Legolas said.

Rowan recalled the scene at the gate in the book not seen in the movie. "I'm sure we'll be questioned. Say we're returning the horses to Éomer and we are here to speak with the king."

"Is the Third Marshal here?" Boromir asked.

There was that defensiveness again...

Anyway, she had to think back to where he was in the book. "In the book, he is, but not in the movie—Éomer and his men were banished. He didn't mention that when we met him, so we'll see which is the case here."

Riding toward Edoras, the road winded upland to the city. Once they drew near, they passed between the mounds—seven on one side; nine on the other. The white, star-like flowers that covered the mounds—simbelmynë—only grow where dead men rest. It was quiet there; silent; peaceful.

At the gate, they were questioned, and Aragorn answered as Rowan instructed; they were let in without hassle. Following their guide, the guard led them up through the city to a grand stable. They passed many dark doors with horse motifs decorating each building and weary people dressed in dark clothing. Somber eyes watched their passing. Children didn't chase each other; there wasn't any laughter or even talk among neighbors.

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

After reaching the stable and dismounting, the guard led them up the stone-hewn steps to the gold-inlaid front doors of Meduseld. Four guards stood at the top: two in front of pillars, and two on either side of the closed doors. Full-face helms hid their faces. They wore armor embellished with golds, greens, and browns, and held spears in one hand and a green shield on the other.

Once they made the landing, their guide bowed his head to them and went back down to the gate. As soon as he left, the doors swung inward and six men came out.

A tall man stepped forward. "I am the Doorward of Théoden," he said. "Háma is my name. I cannot allow you to approach the king so armed. Relinquish your weapons before you enter."

Rowan had told them the past night what to expect, so having to hand over their weapons came with no rebuttal. Although Aragorn warned Háma not to draw Andúril or he would die. She removed her sword, two long knives, and multiple throwing knives alongside the others. Once the guards believed them weaponless, the doors were pushed open. Hidden within the innocent bracelet on her wrist was their greatest weapon... She hoped.