How did it come to this?
Loyal to her family, her lands and her people, Théadain, the illegitimate daughter of Théoden, King of Rohan, has little concern for the world that lies beyond her familiar grasslands. When all that she loves is threatened...
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Chapter 49
True to his word, Aragorn was unable to sleep after his glimpse into the Palantir and after hearing of what he had seen, nor was Théadain.
Still, despite his reservations earlier in the night, he stayed, holding her tightly in his arms as the first rays of the sun began to filter into her room. With the dawn she had risen to dress, blushing a little as his eyes had followed her. Somehow, watching her move around the room, completing her morning routines, laying aside her robe and selecting her clothing for the day seemed even more intimate than undressing her had been the night before.
He watched as she tugged a deep green tunic over her head, covering the bruises on her chest that remained from the battle, bruises that he had been careful to adorn with tender kisses as she had laid beneath him hours ago.
Catching his eye, she smiled softly as she adjusted her collar, admiring his dishevelled hair as he lay in her bed, still fully clothed but for his bare feet.
"Gandalf will want to speak with us." He murmured as he watched her pull on her breeches and boots, bracing one hand against the back of a wooden chair to balance herself. He sat up, reaching for his own boots where she had laid them aside in the night and tugging them on.
"Mmm..." She frowned, reaching to tug a comb through the chaotic tangle of her hair; "I had hoped we would have a little longer before this war caught up with us."
Though he could not help but smile as he watched her brow crease in frustration at the fight her hair was putting up as she twisted it into a tousled knot atop her head, his expression was tinged with sadness. Of course she deserved rest, a reprieve from the threat of destruction that hung over them, they all did, though it seemed they would have to battle on.
He watched as she strode to the door, hesitating with her hand on the wood, as if she had to contemplate stepping though. Rising to his feet, he moved to her side, tenderly brushing back one of the loose strands of hair that she had left framing her face; "What worries you?"
"I just... Wanted to stand here a moment longer." She smiled reassuringly up at him; "Once we leave this room, once others can see us, we can't be together like we are here."
"No." He agreed softly, drawing her into his arms and softly kissing her brow. She curled her arms around his waist and embraced him tightly. A small, regretful sigh passed her lips as she drank in the reassuring comfort his hold brought, committing it to memory before she pulled back with a reluctant smile.
"Come, it is time to play the Marshal once more." She murmured, straightening her shoulders as she stepped back to open the door, allowing him to walk ahead of her as they moved to the hall.
It was quiet, not wholly deserted, but the flurry of the day had not yet begun. Aragorn watched as Théadain instinctively moved to assist those that served the hall with laying out food on the tables, all evidence of the revelry of the night before long since cleared away. As she spoke quietly with them, standing over one of the tables as she cut a loaf of fresh bread into generous slices, he moved to toss another log onto the smouldering hearth in the centre of the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a guard move from the door to go and apologetically interrupt the Third Marshal as she worked, a slice of bread now clamped between her teeth. He watched curiously as her face brightened, her hand clamping on the guard's shoulder in a gesture of thanks as she could not get a word past her hurried breakfast before she dashed to the doorway.
