❝ a mermaid belongs to the sea. she cannot stay on land without the guarantee of her death. ❞
❝ yes, but her heart belongs here. ❞
↳ gandalf the grey to queen marella
╔═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══╗
she belonged...
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ONCE THE TWO GUARDS OF EDORASfinally let Vera and her companions pass through the wooden gates of Edoras, the group had taken a moment to inspect their surroundings. Edgar and Grimmund have been forced to follow the new group of foreigners to guide them to the King's Halls but remained quiet, trying to wrap their head around the truth given to them, and giving them enough time to observe Edoras and its City. Tensions between the group and the two men were particularly high after their argument and it didn't seem to decrease as more time passes with them being in one another's presences — namely Vera and Grimmund, who both use their strength to keep from glaring or making nasty comments.
Instead of commencing in another wasteful argument, Vera decides to focus on her surroundings and the scenery of Edoras. Compared to from afar — with the high, mighty mountains, the fresh scent of snow and water, the imposing hill of glorious houses, and the kingly Halls of Meduseld where Rohan's King sat with an evil spell — Edoras was rather degraded and lowly. With the awful stench of death and poverty filling the air and displeasing Vera's nose, the City of Edoras seemed rather dull in comparison to the other dominions of Middle Earth. Vera undoubtedly supposed that it was the hand of Saruman causing such misery and plainness in a wonderful Kingdom like Rohan and Edoras, the darkened shadows filling each corner that stems from the King himself.
Miserable and weary faces stare at them with hidden wariness and caution, silently deciphering their purpose and their intentions. Their bodies seemed frail against the coldness of the weather and the breeze coming from the mountaintops, leaving Vera with a sympathetic sensation in her stomach. The way the people of Edoras looked at the new and foreign group entering Edoras brought Vera no comfort as she shuffles nervously under their judgmental stares. Her eyes catch sight of a small boy, barely the age of ten, coiling on the ground with despair in his eyes as he comforts himself to keep away from the cold but with the lack of warmth and dressings around his tiny frame, it was rather useless. Vera frowns openly.
She did not like how the strong people of Edoras appeared at that moment, knowing in her heart that the Rohirrim are a strong and tenacious people. They did not deserve the illness of the shadowed darkness seeping in their hearts and spirits by the ruthless hands of Saruman. They appeared no more than a ghost and faint beings, going about their day with no cheer, and doubting every spirit passing through their gates for the fear that they would be attacked and killed mercilessly. They know that their King is sick, they know that their King is not the same as before, but judging by the invisible veil surrounding Edoras like a sickness, they couldn't do anything about it.
