Eternally Bond

The Shieldmaiden Of Rohan

16. The Shieldmaiden of Rohan

Aragorn stood on the wide, paved area in front of Meduseld, the golden hall of Edoras, and looked out at the city beneath him while the smoke from his pipe slowly rose to the skies.

The city of Edoras was located on a hill, with Meduseld at its summit, and the hall greatly extinguished itself from the other, more plain, buildings in the city below. Aragorn, along with his comrades, had arrived the day before and already from afar had seen the golden roof of Meduseld, for its roof was made of straw that shone beneath the sun.

Yesterday had been an eventful day for them all. When they had arrived, king Théoden of Rohan had been under a terrible spell ruled by Saruman. But Gandalf had driven the evil wizard from the king's body and Théoden, after being restored to his former glory, had felt joy for a few short moments until his niece, lady Éowyn, had relayed the news to the king of his son's death.

The funeral had been held not long after, and no one had seen the king smile since.

A short while after the funeral, two young children had arrived on horseback to warn the king of the dangers that was sweeping within their lands. The children's home had been attacked by Wild Men and Gandalf had counselled Théoden to go to war but the king had openly refused. Instead, the king had ordered the citizens of Rohan to leave for their stronghold Helms Deep in the mountains.

From where Aragorn stood now he saw the citizens moving about below, preparing for their long journey across the lands. He could only frown down at them and sighed to himself.

"Why do you frown, lord Aragorn?" a voice asked. The ranger turned around and saw Théoden walk towards him. The king stopped by his side and together the two men looked down at the people below. "If you are worried for your friend then you need not be. My healers have taken care of Boromir's wound. He will heal, but their will be a small, inescapable scar to remind him of his perils. …But that is not why you are frowning, my lord... is it?"

When Théoden got no reply he glanced at the ranger next to him and pushed on, "You frown because of my decision."

Aragorn nodded and inhaled from his long, narrow pipe, "I think it is futile to try and hide from this war. When my companions and I travelled across these lands in search of our three friends I could feel the shadow spread across your lands. Why do you run when you should face this darkness headstrong? Once and for all."

"Because, Aragorn son of Arathorn," Théoden begun and his voice darkened as he spoke, "I will not see my people suffer any longer. No more!" The king turned to the ranger and added in a low, almost threatening voice, "And I do believe you are wrong about my land. Rohan has never been lost to any shadow and will not be lost to it any time soon. We will endure."

"You are right," the ranger nodded in sarcastic consent as his mood too faltered. "Your people are not lost. They just need a strong hand to lead them into a brighter tomorrow."

"And you are proposing you are the one to do so?" Théoden asked in a displeased tone.

Aragorn quickly shook his head. "Nay. You should lead your own people, Théoden."

"I am," Théoden commented shortly and turned to back to watch his people. "Look at them. They are counting on me to protect them. And I will. You let me worry about my people, Aragorn... You can worry about your own. Come back and argue when you are leading your own people, my lord."

"Do not let it come to a foul use of words," a voice spoke in a stern tongue behind the two men and they both turned to watch Gandalf who stood there with his staff in hand. The wizard gazed from one man to the other and it was clear he had not come for the talk. The wizard seemed to be on the move, with a grey cape thrown over his shoulder.