Gríma is thrown out of the hall and rolls down the stairs. "Argh! I've only ever served you, my lord." He says. "Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" Théoden spats. "Send me not from your side!" Grima exclaims. Théoden raises his sword to kill Gríma but is stopped by Aragorn. "No, my lord! No, my lord. Let him go." he says. "Enough blood has been spilled on his account." Glóreddhel snarls while looking at Grima.

Aragorn holds out his hand to Gríma, but Gríma spits on it and runs off through the crowd. "Get out of my way!" He hissed and pushers thru the group. "Hail, Théoden, King!" Aragorn exclaims. Gríma rides out of Edoras. The crowd kneels before the King. "Where is Théodred? Where is my son?" Théoden exclaims.

———

Rohirrim is gathered for Théodred's funeral. Théodred's body is carried toward the tomb on a bier made of shields and spears.

Èowyn sings while the men pass the body to the women, who place it into the tomb. "Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended
giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende."

(An evil death has set forth the noble warrior
A song shall sing sorrowing minstrels)

"on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære,
Þæt he ma nowere is, þurh niedig rest."

(in Meduseld that he is no more,
That he is nowhere anymore, for his necessary rest.)

"And mægen deorost.
Bealo..."

(And that he is the dearest relative.
The killing took him...)

———

Théoden stands, with Gandalf, at his son's shut tomb.

"Simbelmynë, ever has it grown on the tombs of my forebears. Now it shall cover the grave of my son." He says. "Alas, that these evil days should be mine. The young perish, and the old linger. That I should live to see the last days of my house." He continues. "Théodred's death was not of your making," Gandalf says.

"No parent should have to bury their child," Théoden says and starts to cry and covers his face. "He was strong in life. His spirit will find its way to the halls of your fathers." Gandalf says. "West hál. Ferðu, Théodred, Ferðu." (Be-thou well. Go-thou, Théodred, go-thou.) Gandalf says before he turns and sees Èothain and Freda riding a horse.

Èothain falls off the horse.

———

Inside the Golden Hall, the two children are eating. Èowyn is by their side. "They had no warning. They were unarmed. Now the Wildmen are moving through Vestfold, burning as they go, every rick, cot, and tree." Èowyn says to Théoden. "Where's mama?" The little girl they learned named was Freda asked. But Èowyn hushed her gently.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash. All the more potent, for he is driven mad by the fear of Sauron." Glóreddhel growled at the thought of Rhe dark lord she despised so profoundly. "Ride out and meet him head-on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight." Gandalf adds to her statement.

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Èomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king." Aragorn says. "They will be three hundred leagues from here by now! Èomer cannot help us." Théoden says as he stands from his throne and walks down. "I know what is that you want of me. But I would not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war." Théoden continued.

"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not," Aragorn says. Théoden walks to Aragorn. "When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan." He sneers, but Aragorn seems unfazed. "Then what is the king's decision?" Glóreddhel says, and the others look at Théoden.

———

People gather outside the Golden Hall. "By order of the King, the city must empty. We make for the refuge of Helm's Deep. Do not burden yourself with treasures. Take only what provisions you need." Háma says to the crowd of citizens that have gathered. "Helm's Deep! They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight. Who will defend them if not their king?" Gimli sneers in disbelief at what the king has done.

"He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people," Glóreddhel says, but she is also questioning this order. "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past," Aragorn says. "But know that I think of it, there is no way out than that of the ravine. Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he is leading them to safety, but what he'll get is a massacre." Glóreddhel says as a look of little dread crosses her face.

Gandalf nods. "Théoden has a stronghold, but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan." He says. "He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defenses have to hold." Gandalf says as he turns to Aragorn. "They will hold," Aragorn says firmly. Gandalf rides to Shadowfax. "The Grey Pilgrim. That is what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I've walked this earth, and now, I have no time." He says.

"Good luck. My search will not be in vain." Gandalf says. "Look to my coming, at first light, on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East.". " go," Glóreddhel says and smiles softly at her old friend. Shadowfax sprints out of the stable.

In the stables, a horse rears. Two men with ropes try to control him. Glóreddhel approaches. "That horse is half-mad, my lady. There's nothing you can do. Leave him." A man says. Glóreddhel speaks to the horse in Rohirric and Elvish. She takes one of the ropes, and it stops rearing. One of the men leaves. Glóreddhel unties it from the harness. She continues speaking softly, and the horse becomes gentle. The other man leaves.

"Fæste, stille nú, fæste, stille nú. Lac is drefed, gefrægon." (Fast, quiet now, fast, dead now. A battle is stirred up, they heard.) "Hwæt nemnað ðe?" (What is your name?) "His name is Brego." Aragorn says. Glóreddhel raises an eyebrow at the Dunedain. "Èowyn told me" he shrugs. "Brego? Ðin nama is cynglic." (Brego? Your name is kingly.) she whispers to brego.

"Man le trasta, Brego?" (What troubles you, Brego?) she says and strokes his nose. "Man cenich?" (What did you see?). "I was raised in Rivendell for a time. But you speak to him as you were one of his kin; where are you from?" Aragorn asks, and Glóreddhel sighs. She then locks eyes with the man and says. "I am from a land none mapped. A land suit cast of flowers, mountains, and rivers. Places built to fly and have fun in the wind—a home where the eagles sit and sleep. I am from the land they call Dragorath" Aragorn's eyes widen, but he conceals himself.

"It sounds lovely." He says, and Glóreddhel nods and turns back to the horse before her. "Indeed, but I've not been there for years. The rig long stirred my mind, and I wanted to help the people of middle earth. I do not become affected by the little thing; it only angers rise in my heart. No need. I will tell more on a more fitting occasion" the elleth smiles before going away from Brego, who whines at her leaves.

———

Gríma rides up to Isengard. Inside Orthanc, Saruman listens. "Gandalf the White. Gandalf the fool! Does he seek to humble me with his newfound piety?" He snarls. "There were four who followed the wizard. Two elves, a Dwarf and a Man." Gríma says suddenly. "You stink of horse. The man, was he from Gondor? And what of the other elf?" Saurman says.

"No, from the North. One of the Dúnedain Rangers I thought he was. The other elleth I'm not so sure of. Her green eyes seemed not of any normal ones. Her grace was also not of any elf. But her eyes here that of a creature that king stirred Middle -Earth. Dragon eyes." Gríma says. "The man's cloth was spoor. And yet, he bore a strange ring. Two serpents with emerald eyes. One devouring, the other crowned with golden flowers."

Saruman flips through a book to an illustration of this ring. "The Ring of Barahir. So Gandalf Greyhame thinks he's found Isildur's heir, the lost King of Gondor. He is a fool. The line was broken years ago. As for the elleth, that's impossible. Dragons are all but dead. The last dragon fell at Laketown, shot by the last black arrow." He snaps the book shut. "It matters not. The world of Men shall fall. It will begin at Edoras." He says.

————————-

Cliff handler!

-Saph