Chapter One
The Rescue
The Rescue
A/N: I do not own any characters other than Amrun. All other belong to Tolkien. Thanks to my beta Viv who makes my words beautiful, my commas clear, and also entertains me while doing it!!
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A woman’s scream ripped through the woods near Isengard. Galloping swiftly over the Westfold, the riders found the source of the scream as they came upon Grima Wormtongue struggling with a beautiful yet angry elf.
The elf’s eyes flashed with both fear and anger as she tried to twist away from her captor. Blood trickled from her mouth and seeped from a wound in her side. Grima grabbed the elf viciously by her long dark hair and pulled her head back, placing a bloody knife across her throat.
“Do not draw your swords or she will die before you know who she is.”
“Amrun!” Éomer screamed in anguish as he swung down from his horse.
“Oh yes, Éomer. You would know her. Perhaps you know her very intimately,” Grima spat, looking at Éomer with contempt.
“What do you want from us?” Aragorn demanded.
“Grima, have you sunk to hiding behind women to save your own neck?” Gandalf accused, disgusted.
“Oh, Gandalf, this is no mere she-elf. This beauty is the whore of the late Theodred of Rohan.”
“The late?” Amrun cried out as tears fell from her eyes. She began to struggle against him more earnestly.
“When Theodred hunted down the orcs and was mortally wounded, he was chasing them to recover his whore!” Grima said with a twisted smile.
Enraged, Amrun gave one last struggle and managed to knock Grima back with a hard strike of her elbow to his stomach. As soon as Grima released her in his surprise, Èomer leapt forward, wrapping his hands about Grima’s throat.
Dismounting, Legolas quickly pulled Amrun out of harm’s way.
Theoden was so enraged by Grima’s possible involvement in the murder of his son that he pulled Èomer away from Grima and slid his sword into Grima’s stomach. Grima fell to the ground, looking up at Theoden.
“My King, you have failed, for while my wounds are serious, I still breathe,” Grima laughed painfully.
“I would not give you a quick death but would have you suffer with every breath until there are no more. Your wounds are fatal, and you will not last the night, but you shall have a painful death for your treason of Rohan," Theoden replied angrily.
Èomer ran to Amrun’s side and cradled her to him.
“Amrun, look at me. Where are you injured, where is this blood coming from?”
As blackness overcame her and she slumped against him, Amrun could not answer.
When she awoke, she was in the main chamber of Orthanc . Looking around confused, she saw a dark-haired man looming over her, attending to the wound on her side. A wizard was standing beside the man, watching her. Standing behind them were two small hobbits. When her eyes first came to rest on them, she thought they were children but soon realized that they were, in fact, Hobbits of the Shire. She remembered seeing them when she was a young elleth.
The wizard smiled gently. “Greetings, Amrun. We were most concerned for you. I am glad you are now awake. Aragorn has been tending to your wounds.”
Amrun looked to the man. He was very handsome, yet his face looked troubled, lined with years of worry. His voice, when he spoke, was soft and soothing to her.
“You should feel better now.”
Amrun tried to sit up but gasped when she felt sharp pain in her side. Looking down, she saw that part of her gown had been cut away and a compress of plants and leaves covered a horrible looking gash.
“Try to be still . While it was not deep, the wound will pain you for some time,” Aragorn advised her gently.
“Did Grima speak the truth? Is Theodred dead?” she whispered.
“The words he spoke were true. Theodred was attacked by a band of orcs not far from here. Èomer found him and took him to Edoras, but he was badly wounded. They lost him that night,” Aragorn said sympathetically, watching the horror and pain in her eyes.
Amrun began crying in deep silent sobs. She looked so sad that Aragorn felt his heart ache for the young elleth. Gently, he pulled her to him and held her as she cried. Gandalf silently watched.
Merry and Pippin left the room quietly. Going downstairs, they told Èomer that Amrun was awake. Èomer pushed past them and ran up the stairs. Theoden rose to follow, but Legolas put his hand on the king’s shoulder.
“Forgive me, my lord, but perhaps you should give her some time. She knows Èomer as a friend to her and cousin to Theodred. She does not know you. She may feel less comfortable with the King of Rohan beside her as she deals with the shock of all that has happened. Merry, Pippin, please find some food and clean water for her,” Legolas requested.
Theoden looked at Legolas and sighed. “You are right. I would not know what to say to her. How could I have not known of her? So long was I was under Saruman’s spell that I did not know my son’s true love.”
“There is still time to know her,” Aragorn said as he and Gandalf walked down the stairs.
“Éomer is with her now, but she wishes to leave this place, so we need to make ready,” Aragorn continued.
“Is it wise for her to ride now with her wounds?” Theoden asked
“I fear if we delay, she will walk out of Isengard on her own. She is very spirited and strong willed,” Gandalf smiled.
When they were prepared to leave, Aragorn gently helped Amrun get on Èomer’s horse with him. She was not well enough to be on a horse by herself, nor did she know how to ride. Éomer held her tightly to him, and Aragorn could see how very protective he was of her.
When they arrived at Meduseld, Éowyn welcomed them on the terrace, glad they had made it safely. Seeing Éomer and Aragorn helping a small, young woman from Éomer’s horse, she wondered where the new arrival had come from. Then, realizing the stranger was an elf, Éowyn gasped in surprise. As Éomer picked up the elf and carried her up the stairs, Éowyn knew that this elf could not be Aragorn’s love: Èomer was holding her so lovingly.
“Éowyn, send a healer to my chambers. Amrun will be staying there until she is well,” Éomer said, passing with the woman securely in his arms.
Éowyn could tell by his tone that her questions must wait. She sent for the healer then requested food for the others. When she met Merry and Pippin, she was quite charmed by their laughter and their gay stories about talking trees and their victory over Saruman. The men, strangely quiet, allowed Merry and Pippin to tell her what happened at Isengard until the point where they had found Grima. Éomer came back into the room.
“How does she fare?” Legolas asked
“She is sleeping for now. Her body will heal, but I am not sure about her heart. I have never seen her like this. She is but a shadow of the woman I knew,” Éomer said
“Much has happened to her within the last week. I am grateful she has you for she trusts you greatly. Now she is just shocked and devastated because she is mourning Theodred,” Aragorn said softly
“Theodred? How does she know my cousin?” Éowyn looked from Aragorn to Éomer. It was then that her uncle spoke and told her of what had happened with Grima. Éomer told them what he knew of Amrun and her past with Theodred. Éowyn started crying when she found out that Amrun had been her cousin’s love. After the men finished the story, she wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up.
“You are all weary, please rest now. Amrun is sleeping and I will tell the healer to wake me if our guest wakes. I will care for her until the morning. Éomer, you may sleep in Theodred’s quarters while she is here. Our guests will be taken care of as well. We will need to be rested and strong for tomorrow. Who knows what the day might bring.”
The events of the past few days had caused everyone within Edoras to need recovery time. Most were plagued with weariness, some with exhaustion. Allowing things to calm down and people to recover, Theoden gave his men some time to themselves and their families.
Amrun stayed in bed for the next day. While Aragorn tended to her wound, he watched her closely. He knew that it was not the wound that was keeping her in bed, but her desire to withdraw from everyone else. She did not leave the room at all and would feign sleep if anyone came to see her unless it was he or Èomer. Aragorn also noticed the close bond between Èomer and Amrun. He understood that they were close because they both cared for Theodred, but at some times he felt like there was something else under the surface with both of them. Not one to interfere, Aragorn kept his thoughts to himself.
The third night since Amrun had come, there was a celebration to honor the fallen soldiers and the defeat of the Uruk-Hai. Although Amrun tried refuse, Èomer would not hear of her not coming to the celebration. Éowyn brought her a dress of silver and deep green that was fit for a queen. It was the most beautiful dress Amrun had ever worn, but she had little interest in what she was wearing that night. Éomer came to her and smiled when she entered the hall with Éowyn.
“Amrun, you look more like yourself now. If only you would but smile, the men in the hall would be stunned silent,” Èomer said as he looked at her intently.
Amrun smiled faintly, but it was a smile full of much sorrow.
“Please celebrate with your men. Do not trouble yourself with me.”
Amrun walked away from him as he watched her. Withdrawing to the back of the room, she gazed around the room as everyone celebrated. The hobbits were dancing on tables and singing songs. Legolas and Gimli had begun a drinking game. As if he felt her eyes on him, Legolas looked at her intently, and she looked away.
A few moments later, while Éowyn was talking to Aragorn, Amrun slipped from the hall. Going back to her chambers, she could still hear the festive sounds as she sat on the bed quietly thinking.
Forgetting that Amrun was now staying in his chambers, Éomer came into the room. Seeing her sitting quietly on his bed, he was silently surprised until he recalled the sleeping arrangements. The dark wood of the heavy furniture made the room very intimate and warm. There was a fire burning in the large rock fireplace. She was sitting on the large bed with her head lowered, and the light from the fire flickered across her face.
“Amrun?”
As she turned, he saw the tears on her cheeks.
“Yes, Éomer.”
“Is there anything you need?”
“Can you bring Theodred back to me?” she said as fresh tears filled her eyes.
“Forgive me, but I cannot. I would do all else to stop your tears.”
Éomer reached for her and pulled her into his arms again. Stroking his hand down her silky hair, he held her as she wept. When her tears subsided, he pulled back to look upon her face. She raised her eyes to meet his, and he brushed the tears from her cheeks.
Éomer kissed her softly. The tenderness of her lips against his caused a stirring within him, and without thinking about it, he gave her another kiss, lingering longer, daring deeper. Burying his hands in her thick dark hair, he soon realized that he was kissing her quite passionately. Caught off guard by the strength of his passion, he stopped to catch his breath.
Silent, Amrun searched his eyes for an explanation.
“Forgive me. I should not have acted so,” said Èomer. “Yet I have loved you since the day I first beheld you, Amrun. I saw the love you shared with Theodred, but watched with envy, with jealousy, not with honor. I loved Theodred as my brother, and therefore I said nothing, but though I knew I could never have you, I wanted you still. I wanted you to look at me as you looked at Theodred. I have had other women, yet I have loved no other since that day when I first saw you.”
Pulling her back into his embrace, he kissed her gently again. Uncontrollably, his kiss grew more passionate; he gently stroked the soft skin of her cheeks with his thumb. His hands slipped into her hair again as he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. Sliding his hands down her back, he pulled her body closer, drinking her deep, his mind swirling with passion and intoxicated by her scent. He felt her hands on his chest and soon realized she was attempting to push him away. He released her lips and when his eyes fell upon her, he felt his heart break. Her bottom lip quivered and tears once again filled her eyes.
“No, Éomer. You have had much to drink and are confused of your feelings. You wish to have me to soothe the ache in your heart for all of the losses you have suffered. Even if you were to have me, you would still feel the loss of Theodred and your fellow Rohirrim at this dark hour. Your love for me is a longing for the past, nothing more.”
Éomer turned from her to hide his pain. “Forgive me, Amrun. It was wrong to kiss you while you mourn Theodred. I have dishonored my cousin and caused you discomfort.”
Amrun watched him rise and swiftly left the room. She was slightly out of breath, and her heart raced. She knew not what to do: she loved him, but she did not wish to hurt him. She felt guilt because a part of her did not want him to stop kissing her. Feeling the air in the room close around her, she fled the stifling rooms of Meduseld. As she exited the hall, she breathed the cool night air, and her thoughts raced again. She was overwhelmed by what had happened. She had, after all, lived her days in relative peace until a few years ago, when Theodred and Èomer rode into her forest and changed everything.