Alatara the Blue

Aragorn had taken Princess Eowyn up on his horse and rode ahead. Alatara lingered back riding with Gimli while Legolas kept pace running next to them.

“Was that her, Legolas?” Alatara asked in a whisper, making sure Aragorn and the girl didn’t hear.

Legolas let out a gritty sigh, “Aye, it is.”

“What are you going to do?” Alatara asked, interested in the love story that was about to unfold.

“Nothing,” Legolas said, no emotion in his voice.

“Nothing? Nothing? It is a dangerous game you play with fate when you deny her path,” Alatara shook her head, her red curls bouncing all over the place.

Gimli sat in front her, sipping his flask while she kept hold of the horse’s reigns. He nodded his head in agreement.

Legolas said nothing as they continued on, a harsh look on his face.

They rode for what felt like days until Edoras, capital city of Rohan, came into view. Alatara and Gimli’s horse had caught pace with Aragorn and Eowyn’s.

“Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld,there dwells Theoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is over thorn. The White Wizard’s hold over my uncle is very strong,” Eowyn whispered.

“Lady Eowyn you must return home, as if you had gotten lost, we will join you shortly, to save Theoden, you will ease the guards when we show up,” Aragorn instructed.

The pretty blonde nodded, she looked nervous but determined.

Alatara hoped she was okay going in there by herself, she didn’t like it but she knew Aragorn’s plan was a good one.
--

Eowyn left her sword with her new friends—saviors more like and approached the castle.

It took her nearly an hour to enter the city and walk through the decaying ruins of what used to be her home.

The guards flocked to her, wondering where she’d been the past couple days, worried sick. She asked of her uncle and silent, saddened faces were her answer.

The youngest guard, a childhood friend Gendry looked down, “My lady, your cousin, he has died.”

Her heart sank in the pit of her stomach, her closest friend and the man her uncle had wanted her to marry despite the blood relation, “Take me to him.”

Gendry and another guard guided her to her cousin’s chambers.

She was greeted by the cold, pale body of her cousin lying on his bed. She hadn’t been in his chambers since they were small children when it wasn’t considered inappropriate, it was exactly the same minus the toys.

Tears came to her eyes but she bit them back, a steel ball felt like it was sinking in the pit of her stomach. She knelt next to the bed and placed her arms next to him.

“Gendry, Hama, you may go Lady Eowyn will be fine in my company,” She heard voices behind her but her despair blocked them out.

A freezing hand snaking into her golden locks knocked her from her anguish. She turned slowly, seeing Grima Wormtongue glaring down at her.

“This is your fault,” He taunted with a whisper, “If you hadn’t disappeared, left me, he might be alive.”

She stared at him in horror, refusing to answer.

“Tragic, poor King Theoden, he has lost his only heir but I feel most sorry for you, being so alone, your betrothed dead and your brother having abandoned you,” His hand caressed her hair, “I can help you feel less alone, if you grant me permission.”

She shoved him away and grit her teeth, shaking in anger she yelled, “Don’t touch me you Snake! I know you did this, you will pay for it!”

He raised his arm as if to backhand her, she scrambled back, scuttling backward, around her cousin’s bed and towards his stained glass window. The stained glass cut glimpses of red and blue light across the room.

Red light covered Wormtongue’s face, “Oh, but you are alone! Who knows what you have spoken to the darkness. In bitter watches of the night, when all your life seems to shrink, the walls of your hideaway closing in about you, like a cage to confine some wild thing in.”

A chill ran down her spine, making the baby hairs on her neck rise as his words passed through her. Haunted her.

He closed the distance between them and put a hand on her cheek and let it drift down to her neck, scraping his long nails against the fragile skin and continued onto to her breasts. His hand lingered over them, his eyes fixated on her, intense and unbearable.

“You’re so fair, so cold, like a morning of pale spring still clinging to winter’s chill. A fine queen for me, Saruman promised me I could have you. Asking your permission is just a façade, I can and will have you whenever I want, whenever the fancy strikes me. And my dear, it has.”

She almost couldn’t move, so terrified without her sword or daggers, she shoved him away with all her might, “Your words are poison!”

She ran out of the room and all she could hear was his sinister laugh.

----

They passed through Edoras, a grim dark place. The murky aura of the place almost choking Alatara, making it hard for her to breathe, “This place is heavily clouded by dark magic, don’t look for a warm welcome here my friends.”

“You’ll find more cheer in a graveyard,” Gimli joked.

Aragorn gave him a silencing look.

“Just an innocent observation, my friend,” Gimli shrugged and looked to Alatara.

She nodded in affirmation, agreeing with him but staying silent.

Legolas remained eerily quiet, looking upon Edoras in disdain. Alatara wondered if he was trying to find a reason to disregard his Fate, judging the woman’s homeland.

They approached the grand castle’s steps.
--

Eowyn ran to the throne room and kneeled next to her uncle’s throne. He had aged thrice as badly in the three days she’d been away. She took his cold, wrinkled hand in hers. She almost cried, she held his hand, her surrogate father, a thousand times as a child, warm and strong.

“My lord, your son, Theodred, is dead,” She tried to get through to him, “My lord?”

Her uncle’s eyes were vacant, clouded and staring off into the distance.

“Uncle Theo, will you not go to him? They bury him tonight, will you go see him one last time?” She begged.

Eowyn couldn’t take it any longer and dropped his cold hand and ran out of the castle.

One of Rohan’s banner broke off the castle and floated down toward her new friends. She tried to refrain from sighing in relief and their approach she knew Wormtongue was watching. He always was.

Aragorn and his group approached the men, having long dismounted their horses. A burly guard at the castle doors stopped them.

“I can’t allow you before Theoden-King so armed, by order of Grima Wormtongue,” He informed, almost apologetically.

Aragorn nodded and signaled to his friends to surrender their weapons. He handed over his sword, dagger and all of his other small weapons. Legolas followed suit, Alatara handed over her bow and an ornate short sword.

Gimli handed over his axes with a growl.

The guard gestured to Alatara, “Wench, your staff.”

Aragorn could visibly see Alatara twitch and being called a wench. Aragorn didn’t like it either, it was incredibly disrespectful.

“This? I was born with a bad leg, I need it to walk,” She looked at the guard with the most innocent face Aragorn had ever seen.

The man hesitated, torn, he sighed, “I must insist.”

She begrudgingly handed it over to a nearby guard with a sigh and made a show of leaning on Legolas to help her walk.

The guard nodded and turned to lead them into the Hall.

Her friends stared at her in shock, handing over her staff, her source of power. She merely winked at them.

A greasy pale man was at the King’s side, his dark hair clinging to the side of his face like spilled ink. The man whispered to the king but Aragorn’s was able to catch the words, “A wizard approaches, the female, I can smell the magic on her, my lord.”

The whisper rang out around the crowded Hall, the air became hostile and the already stressed occupants began to grow aggressive. The closed in around Aragorn’s group and he could only hope the petite redhead was able to follow through on their plan.

She looked nervous to him, her right hand balled into a fist at her side.

The greasy man whispered to the king once more, “She’s not welcome, nor her friends.”

King Theoden wheezed, “Why should I welcome you, wizardess.”

King Theoden looked to the greasy man for affirmation. Aragorn could only think how the mighty had fallen. He had seen the king once in passing as a child and had thought the human king terrifying and powerful.

“A just question, my liege,” The greasy man smiled, he rose from kneeling at the king’s side and approached Alatara. He, Legoals and Gimli closed in around her protectively, she shoved them to the side, “Late is the hour this sorceress chooses to appear, ill news is an ill guest.”

“Be silent! Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth you witless ass,” Alatara grinned and raised her clenched hand, the black opal from atop her staff in her palm.

“I told you to take their weapons!” The man yelled to the guards.

The guards cowered and the one who took their weapons replied, “We did! We took her staff!”

The guards attacked and Aragorn signaled for Legolas and Gimli to attack. He and his friends were deadly with or without weapons. After he incapacitated the last guard, he looked back toward the king.

The wizardess approached with her glowing stone and Eowyn had moved to her uncle’s side, his hand in hers.

“Theoden, son of Thengel, too long have you sat in the shadows,” Eowyn whispered.

The greasy man tried to crawl away unnoticed, but Gimli used a great booted to pin him to the floor, “Leaving already good sir? You’ll miss the show if you do!”

“Listen to me! I release you from the spell in the name of the maia, in the name of the Forest God I serve,” Alatara yelled, the stone in her hand pulsating with power. The force of magic pulsating from the stone seemed almost too much to handle, she struggled to keep her arm up.

A menacing laugh escaped the king and they all opened their eyes in surprise.

“That’s not his voice,” Eowyn’s eyes were wide as she look to Alatara.

“I know that voice,” Alatara whispered.

“Alatara the Blue, you have no power here,” The voice coming from Theoden snickered, “You who never left the Undying lands.”

“Try me! I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound,” Alatara forced her arm back up, the stone glowing further. Her knuckles were clench sharply, her fingers clawing the air, “I was brought here to destroy you!”

“If I go, Theoden dies,” Saruman snickered through his puppet.

Eowyn looked horrified.

“I led the Fellowship into Moria, knowing the Balrog would kill Gandalf, imagine what I will do to you wizardess,” Saruman threatened with a laugh.

“You did not kill him! He chose to stay back to save his friends and you will not kill me!” Alatara growled.

“Rohan is mine!” Saruman lunged at Alatara, leaping away from Eowyn.

“Be gone!” A black light shot from Alatara’s jewel, striking Theoden throwing him back into his throne.

Theoden started to seize and then suddenly went still as a corpse. He moaned in pain. Eowyn grabbed her uncle’s hand. He shook and raised his head, his face became much younger, his hair going from stark white to a sandy blonde, clarity and a sharp wit returning to his crystal blue eyes.

He looked to Eowyn, “I know your face, my niece Eowyn.”

“Gandalf?” Theoden whispered looking at the crowd.

“No, Alatara the Blue has saved you,” Eowyn whispers.

“Hello there,” Alatara gave a wave, “For a second there I didn’t think I’d pull it off.”