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THE DAUGHTER OF GONDOR and her companions rode through the lands of Rohan with haste. The White Mountains surrounded them, snowcapped and domineering, as they made their way into the valley. It was miraculous that the horses had managed to travel for such an extended period of time across tumultuous terrain and waters uncharted, but they got their riders to Edoras safely. For that, Elamir was grateful.
They made their way up a steep hill, and the view from the top was more beautiful than Elamir could have ever imagined. She had studied the horsemen and the culture of Rohan in her schooling, but seeing the land of the Rohirrim in person was heart-stopping. Edoras was built upon a lone mountain in the distance. Its gates lined the bottom of the earth's protrusion, large and wooden in preparation of an attack. The city extended upon the rocky cliffside, and on the very top... the Golden Hall of Meduseld sat perched, glimmering in the sunlight.
The riders slowed to a stop only to gaze at the sight for a moment. Elamir tightened her hold upon Aragorn's torso, letting her chin brush against his shoulder as she caught sight over his larger stature. This act did not go unnoticed by the ranger. He struggled to repress his shivers at the feeling of her hands pressed against his ribs... the feeling of her chest upon his back and the cherry smell of her auburn hair as it flew against his cheek. Did she know the power her very presence held over him? He guessed not. Aragorn's hand tightened across the forearm that rested upon Hasufel's mane.
"Edoras!" Gandalf announced in his usual grandiose manner. "... and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong. Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here."
The White Wizard urged Shadowfax to run onward. The four warriors shared glances with one another before quickly following suit. Elamir could not help but worry at Gandalf's words, for she knew he had a strong sense of foresight and knowledge about what ills they approached. She could only hope their plan would succeed, and perhaps they could find rest behind the walls of the capitol. Heaven knew she longed for a bed and one night of undisturbed sleep after traveling for so many days. She was still worn by grief and anger.
As they approached the wooden archway at the foot of the hill, Elamir observed the architecture more closely. The large pillars of wood, carved with such intricacy and skill, amazed her. It was such a stark contrast from the White City. It was only now that she realized how badly she longed for her home. She missed her brothers. She wished to hug Faramir, to hold her little brother in her arms and tell him that everything would be all right. She could only imagine how their father would react at the news of Boromir's passing... his dearest child... she tried her best not to think about it.
As if the wind could sense her fears, it strengthened in a gust strong enough to rip the flag of Rohan from its stake. The frayed banner twisted and rolled in the breeze. Both Elamir and Aragorn watched as it fell to the ground. They shared a gentle yet comforting look with one another before Aragorn kicked Hasufel forward into the village.
