The Falling Rain (Lord Of The Rings Fanfic)

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THEY climbed the steps and on top were greeted by a group of guards with their silver armor and helmets on, armed with their swords and spears. Gandalf nodded to them in greeting with a smile but they weren't met with the same courtesy.

"I cannot allow you before Theoden king so armed Gandalf Greyhame. By order of Grima Wormtongue" said the guard who was their leader.

Felina and Lou exchanged a look. "Wormtongue? What kind of name was that?" They thought.

Gandalf nodded to them and they begin to give their weapons over to the guards. Aragorn gave over his sword and his bow and arrows. Gimli with much hesitance handed over his ax. Legolas gave a small smirk as he flipped his twin daggers and handed them to the guard along with his bow and arrow. Felina also gave away her bow and arrows and Lou gave away her belt of throwing daggers. They both gave their swords. They were now weaponless except for two small details.

The head guard nodded to Felina and Lou's belt where their guns rested at its holster. "And what is that?" He asked.

Felina and Lou shared a glance. They shook their heads. Felina answered "It's nothing. Our friends gave it to us before they passed. It is the only memory we have of them. We would hate to part with it. We would feel like we have lost them even more than we already have"

As Felina lied she feigned sadness pretty well also looking as if close to tears. Her friends bit their cheeks to prevent themselves from laughing or smiling. But the guards, gullible as they were seemed to buy into her story and showed a bit of pity.

"I'm sorry my lady. You may keep it" he said.

"Oh thank you" Felina said sighing as if in relief or happiness.

The guard then turned to Gandalf. "Your staff" he said nodding his head at it.

"Oh you wouldn't part a man from his walking stick?" Gandalf replied taking advantage of their ignorance as well as Felina. They looked like they were considering it for a moment before finally nodding and leading them into the hall. Gandalf pretends to walk slower and clung onto Legolas. Once again, they all tried not to smile or laugh. It would be a dead giveaway.

Inside the hall was just as gloomy as the outside. A shadow seemed to loom over it engulfing them in dim darkness never to see the sunlight again. All hoped seemed to have been drained from the faces of the people in there. It was midday but in there it felt like it was in the middle of the night.

On the throne sat the king. He looked ancient. He looked old. Very very old. His hair was white and gray and frizzy looking disheveled and out of place, his beard looked overgrown he looked like he could make a dress out of it. His face was pale, riddled with wrinkles and his expression was dead and emotionless. There was no sign of life in his eyes. He seemed as if he was already dead himself. Like a living rotting corpse. The crown upon his forehead seemed to look heavy with his form.

Beside him, whispering in his ear was a greasy man, sickly pale and eyes like a snake with black stringy hair clad in a black robe. He hissed in the king's ear. He looked deceitful and wicked and dark. There was an eerie wisp of air as the doors shut behind them. They all glanced back for a small moment then faced the king once more, walking across the hall, toward him.

"The courtesy of your hall has somewhat lessened of late, Theoden king!" Gandalf told him. The greasy little man whispered into the King's ear once more.

"Why...... should I welcome.... you...... Gandalf..... Stormcrow?" The king said  in a slow and tired manner. He turned to the man beside him, Grima, and Grima nodded in agreement.

"A just question my liege" he says standing up and walking toward them as well. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest"