𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐟

𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧

You made good time towards Rohan, Legolas's arm securely around your waist whilst his other held Arod's reins.

Edoras, the major city of Rohan, hid beneath the hill you were just about to crest - a small place, with straw-thatched roofs and rolling yellow grasses.

You saw a flash of rippling white, a fabric seemingly one with the breeze, on the balcony of the largest building, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

"Do exactly as I say," Gandalf whispered, motioning for you, Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli to come in behind him. "Rohan is not the friendliest of kingdoms at this morning."

Everyone stared at you with hopeless eyes and cold expressions as you came in. You shifted uncomfortably - they all looked like they'd been through hell and back, and like they blamed you.

"Mithrandir," a bored soldier noted, as you reached the door of the largest building, dismounting to allow a few stable hands to care for the horses. He glanced at the rest of you with disinterest, as though you were worth nothing.

You didn't want to be known as some Queen who's role and responsibilities you weren't trained or ready for, so the look was somewhat gratifying. But you didn't want to be the rat the cat dragged in either.

"We desire an audience, with King Theoden," Gandalf said. "He must know about the imminent danger Rohan is in."

The other guard reached for his scabbard. "You must leave your weapons at the door."

"Valar," you muttered under your breath, pulling your swords and a couple daggers from your cloak and sheathes. "Who're we going to attack, the chamber pots?"

"Y/N," Legolas hissed, eager not to be on the end of a sword whilst he was unarmed. That was no way for an Elf to die.

Gandalf began to walk forward, his staff still firmly in his hand, when the guards crossed their spears at the door.

"No weapons," one repeated.

"Would you really make an old man come in without his walking stick?" the wizard protested. You and Gimli locked eyes and almost laughed, but managed to refrain.

The guards looked ashamed, and they let your party pass. Legolas offered his arm to Gandalf (What a gentleman, you thought) and you walked straight into a throne room. At the end of the thick carpet that warmed the cold cobblestone floors, was an ornate throne, fit for the grandest of Kings. The room seemed the sort to be filled with light, but was instead veiled in shadow.

Upon the throne sat a wizened old man, doubled over with frailty - his hair stringy and his breathing weak. His fragile state seemed wrong, like his was innately someone entirely different. Next to him crouched a man, who was hidden by his thick black cloak. He whispered in the King's ear, and you guessed that this must be the infamous Grima Wormtongue.

"Leave now," Wormtongue said.

The King looked up, with a glare directed straight at Gandalf. "You should not be here, Mithrandir."

With that, all the guards in the room rushed towards you, and you had to smirk.

If they thought they could defeat us only because we were unarmed, they are surely delusional.

You punched the first man to at you straight in the face, and he collapsed with a loud thud. The second was kicked towards Legolas for the Elf to finish him, and you dropped to sweep the legs of the third out from under himself.

Everyone was holding their own easily, and the forces of Rohan were rapidly diminishing. Grima Wormtongue was probably cowering in some corner.

"Your thoughts are no longer your own, Theoden," the wizard replied, walking calmly through the battle. "You are not the righteous man you once were. Your kingdom falls into neglect, and your people into danger. Isn't it time to end all this suffering, for the good of the people?"

Theoden laughed - a hoarse, weak sound as terrifying as it was strange. What he thought was funny was a mystery to you, because every one of his allies was incapacitated. "The nerve of ordering me about in my own palace almost impresses me. You hold no power here ... Gandalf."

"I release you from your curse!" Gandalf cried, throwing his cloak off hand and staff forward. Theoden saw the true nature of the seemingly old and frail wizard before him, and you noted a terror in his gaze as the fighting halted.

White light burst from the wizard, and the King was thrown backwards, his head slamming against the hard wood of his throne.

A beautiful young woman ran into the room then, her long golden hair flying about her in her panic. She rushed for the King, and you guessed her to be close to him - a daughter or niece.

"Stay back," you warned her, Aragorn catching her arm. She glanced towards Theoden, worry clearly etched across her face.

Gandalf threw his staff forward again and again, and finally it seemed like some evil force was leaving his body, and he was returning to Theoden, wise and true King again.

The blonde woman tore free of Aragorn, who looked mildly impressed by her strength as she ran for the King. Theoden stood slowly from his throne, and he would've fallen were it not for the aid of the blonde woman, who caught him.

The wrinkles faded from his face slowly, his hair thickening and turning to a blond similar to the woman's. He looked wiser, stronger, and far more like a King. However, his face contorted in rage when his eyes found Grima, in all his ... worminess.

Though Wormtongue wasn't the former controller Theoden's mind (that being Saruman), he was understandably mad at the slimy servant to the darkness.

"Leave now," Theoden said, repeating Grima's words mockingly from earlier as he drew his sword. "Or I'll seperate your head from your body and let you bleed out on the floors of your master, Saruman."

The snake of a man trembled at the fearsome threat, fleeing from Rohan. Theoden nodded to a couple of his guards, and they slipped out after him - a wise decision.

"You're back," the woman smiled, tears in her eyes as she guided Theoden back to his throne.

"Indeed, Eowyn," he replied, turning to look at you - the remnants of the Fellowship. "Now. How could I ever help the great Gandalf?"

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