˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ CHILDREN OF WAR ❫ ❞

⋆ 🌪. CHAPTER THIRTY SIX✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
˚ ₊ ♡ rohan: edoras ─── act three

❝ 𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩, 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝘣𝘦 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 ❞

*✧ ─── GYDA'S HEART IS RACING AS SHE RUNS ALONG THE SLOPES OF THE VALLEYS OF ROHAN, DIRT AND ROCKS SHUFFLING BENEATH HER FEET from the sheer force of her steps as she rushed toward the children.

A girl sits on her horse, tired weary eyes half-lidded in exhaustion as she clings to the reins of her white horse, dirt-smeared cheeks littered with freckles. Her head bops up and down, barely taking notice of what's happening.

But Gyda's greatest concern at the moment is the boy; his brow is furrowed and his matted blonde hair sticks to his forehead. His eyes are clutched closed.

Gyda skids to a halt in front of the boy and crouches down in front of him. she pushes the hair out of his eyes, but the boy remains motionless, laying among the grass and her heart spikes with fear. Carefully, Gyda moves to pick up the boy in her arms and she turns to the little girl who fearfully watches on.

"What is your name?" Gyda ask, shuffling the boy in her arms to get a better grip.

"Freda." She breaths out timidly.

Gyda nods. "Follow me Freda." She takes off the moment the girl nods.

She runs up the slope of the valley, feet pounding. She doesn't look back, her only focus is to get the boy to safety. The dirt road toward Meduseld seems longer than before, but she pays it no mind as the city gate appears on the horizon, the setting sun basking it in a warm orange light.

Gyda can hear the horse trotting after her and the closer she gets, the more her hearts steadies.

"Elgarain!" Gyda calls out when she sees the Elleth standing at the gate. "Elgarain, he's hurt!"

Immediately her face takes on the stern and calm confidence mask of a healer. She turns to look around, eyes falling on a guard standing nearby. "Hand the boy to him," she tells Gyda, gesturing in his direction. "It looks like the girl trusts you. Take her to the Hall. She doesn't need to see her brother in this state and the king will probably want to hear her story."

Gyda nods and carefully hands the boy to the guard. Then, with a kind smile, she helps the girl get down from the horse, which is way too big her for to have been riding in the first place. The poor child looks completely shaken as she wearily eyes the strangers surrounding her.

Elgarain then turns to Aragorn, who was already looking at her.

"What do you need?" he asks softly.

"Take the horse to the stables," she tells him. "He's in need of rest."

He nods and walks towards the horse, muttering softly in elvish to the exhausted animal.

Finally, she turns to guard. "Where are the healing rooms?"

"This way my lady."

Gyda's attention is drawn away from their retreating figures as a hand wraps itself around her arm, and she looks down to see the girl, Freda, staring fearfully at her. "Will my brother be safe?"

Her heart lurches painfully at her scared tone but she musters a reassuring smile on her face. "He's in the most capable hands, Freda." Gyda brushes her hand through the girl's hair and rests her hand reassuringly on her shoulder.

"Let us get inside where it is warm." Gyda softly speaks, gently moving the girl toward the Great Hall of Meduseld.

The girl nods, seemingly feeling safe in the presence of the Elleth.

The people of Rohan watch silently as they move up the hill, murmurs and whispers filling the silence. A sudden feeling of dread hangs in the air, one that cannot be appointed to the funeral of their prince.

The wooden door creaks as Gyda pushes it open, light filtering inside from the small gap. Lined along the walls are lit torches that cast a welcoming glow. Gyda watches as multiple woman scurry along the hall, carrying buckets of water, and supplies Elgarain had probably asked for.

Gently, Gyda moves toward one of the benches and motions for the girl to sit down.

The blonde girl does so reluctantly, wide eyes gazing around the hall. Gyda moves, ready to find something to eat for the girl, but when she tries to move away the girl springs up, hands clasping her wrist. "Don't go."

Gyda bites the inside of her cheek, "But you must be hungry. I shall just fetch you something to eat—I'll be back quickly." She tries to reason but Freda shakes her hand, grip tightening.

"No, stay please."

Gyda frowns, and opens her mouth to rebuttal only for a shadow to fall over them. Gyda doesn't need to turn around to know who it is. Even blind she would recognise him.

"I shall get her something." Legolas says softly, placing a hand on Gyda's shoulder.

Gyda cranes her head sideways, catches his gaze and smiles. "Annon allen."

Legolas returns her smile before disappearing from her side.

"What does it mean?"

Gyda turns back to look at the girl. "What?"

"What you said to him. I do not know it."

Gyda smiles and gestures for the girl to sit down again. Freda does so more easily this time and Gyda sits down next to her. "It is Sindarin—a language of the elves. It means thank you."

Freda peers up at her, eyes brightening a bit. "You are an elf?"

Gyda hums, heart filling with warmth at the girl's innocent wonder. "I hale from Lindon." Gyda leans down, as if to whisper. "Shall I tell you a secret?"

The girl nods vigorously.

"Elgarain, the healer taking care of your brother, she is the High-Queen of Noldor."

Freda gasps, and excitedly whispers; "She is?"

Gyda nods, grinning. "Can you keep it a secret?"

"I will, I promise."

"What are you two whispering about?" Legolas appears next to them, a plate in his hand and a subtle smile on his face when he looks at Gyda. He already knew what had been said she realises.

"Nothing!" The girl exclaims quickly, eyes darting to look at Gyda.

"Hmm." Legolas squints as if to decipher if he believes her or not. "Alright." He nods, before placing the plate down in front of her.

"Thank you." Freda says more timid now.

Gyda turns to look at Legolas, "Will you alert the king of their presence please? I fear something terrible has happened, and more so, something dangerous is drawing near."

Legolas nods stiffly before turning around again.

Behind them, the wooden floor creaks, and young Freda turns around to look and before Gyda notices the newcomer, the young girl is up and sprinting toward the archway leading deeper into Meduseld.

"Éothain!" The girl wraps her arms tightly around the boy, who despite the paleness of his skin, and weariness in his eyes, looks far better than he did before. Behind him another figure joins the children.

Elgarain smiles at the sight of the reunited siblings, before looking up at where Gyda sits. "He's fine," she answers the question before it could leave her lips. "He was in more need of food than any medicine I could offer."

Gyda shoulders slouch in relief, and she beckons the children back toward the table. Eagerly, Freda returns to her plate and just as Éothain sits down blond-haired woman sets a plate in front of the boy.

Eowyn, Gyda realises after a moment.

Gyda pushes herself up from the wooden bench and approaches Elgarain as Eowyn turns toward the children with a kind smile.

"Did the boy say what happened?" Gyda leans closer toward the Elleth, brows pinched together in worry.

A small sigh leaves her lips. "I didn't get the chance to ask between his demands to see his sister and his insistence that he was perfectly capable of looking for her himself." The tiniest of smiles appears on her features, though her eyes remain wary. "Which reminds me of someone..."

Gyda coughs awkwardly, averting her eyes. "I do not know of whom you speak, Elgarain." She replies strongly, before turning more serious again. "Whatever made them leave, may have chased them." She whispers.

Elgarain nods, her smile making way for a frown. "Then we better find out what happened to them."

Before Gyda can approach the little girl, footstep creak on the wooden floors and their attention is drawn toward the sound. From behind a wooden pillar, Theoden comes forward. The King's face is hardened, firm lines drawn on his forehead and eyes masking the turmoil of the loss of his son.

Behind him, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf appear like fateful shadows. They move silently, sharing small glances with the two elleths in the room.

Gyda crosses her arms over her chest, hazel eyes drawn back to the young girl as she softly speaks to Éowyn, who's formerly peaceful features contort in despair.

Gyda straightens immediately at the sight, sharing a worrisome glance with Elgarain.

"They had no warning, they were unarmed." Éowyn stands back up, gaze directed at Theoden as he sits down on his throne. There is an all too familiar ache in the blonde's voice as she speaks, "Now Wild Men are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go."

Gyda clenches her jaw, fists bawling.

"Rick, cot and tree."

"Where is mama?"

Gyda's heart churns as Freda looks fearfully up at Éowyn, but the only comfort she can give the girl is that of a soft blanket around her shoulders. Gyda has to avert her gaze from the sight.

She remembers the countless of plundered villages and raids she had witnessed on the road to Mordor. The suffering and destruction that trailed behind the onslaught of Sauron's army. The blood-stained rivers and burned fields like a scar on the land.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash." Gandalf breaks the silent, but his words weigh heavily. "All the more potent for he is driven now by his fear of Sauron." Gandalf turns to face Theoden. "Ride out and meet him head on." He advises.

But the king looks warily, the burden of a decision not easily decided.

"Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight."

Gyda takes in a sharp breath, waiting for his answer, but it is Aragorn instead who speaks.

"You have 2000 good men riding north as we speak." Gyda is reminded of Éomer traveling through the plains and she hopes the idea will solidify Gandalf's grounds. But Theoden remains impassive even as Aragorn continues. "Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king.

Gandalf leans closer to Theoden, as if the bestow his advice once more, but instead, the king pushes himself up. He walks down the steps as he addresses Aragorn. "They will be 300 leagues from her by now. Éomer cannot help us."

Gyda frowns, cautiously stepping forward. "I will ride out in search of him." She offers hopefully, "I shall be swift as the wind. I will find him and bring him here before they'll attack."

Gyda does not want to run, not from this fight, not with everything that happened to Merry and Pippin, to Elgarain...to Boromir. She cannot have it happen to the people of Rohan. Not if she may be able to prevent it.

But despite her determined words, Theoden only shakes his head and glances back at Gandalf. "I know what it is you want of me, but I will not bring further death upon my people. I will not risk open war."

Gyda's shoulders slouch, perhaps because her promise is easily dismissed, but maybe more so because she knows no matter what Theoden decides, a war will come to their doorsteps, no matter the distance they run. But she doesn't voice this, instead she takes a step back, shoulders brushing against Elgarain's.

Aragorn, seemingly on the same page as her, leans forward in his seat, lowering his pipe. "Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not."

"When I last looked, Théoden, not Aragorn was king of Rohan." He speaks indignantly, jutting his chin up.

Gandalf's eyes flicker between the two men, before turning to face the king of Rohan.

"Then what's the king's decision?"

But Gyda sees the answer in his eyes already.

They will not fight.

𝘯𝘰, 𝘪'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙧𝙮, 𝘐 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨
𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝘪𝘴 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙

*✧ ───  fyodor dostoevsky

*✧ ─── rohan: edoras

THE WIND MOVES THROUGH GYDA'S HAIR AS SHE STANDS AT THE TOP OF THE STAIRS OVERLOOKING THE CITY OF EDORAS. Whilst silent and mournful only a couple hours ago, now the city is bustling as the people of Rohan move through the street in a hurried manner.

In the midst of the city Háma stands, "By order of the king, the city must empty. We make for the refuge of Helm's deep. Do not burden yourself with treasures. Take only what provisions you need!"

A blur of white passes her as Gandalf marches down the stairs, followed by the others and Gyda is quick to follow after the White Wizard. "Helm's Deep." Gandalf mutters indignantly, "They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight."

They draw nearer to the stables, and Gyda quickens her pace.

"Who will defend them if not their king?" Gandalf mutters.

Gyda agrees, but voices none of it. She fears her anger might betray her.

"They are scared." Elgarain softly speaks, looking over her shoulder, at the women and children as the rush around the city.

Aragorn nods, "He's only doing what he thinks is best for his people. Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."

Gyda shakes her head, "Whatever it did so then, this is a fight he should have fought head on." She clenches her fist. "He's drawing them into a corner, many will die."

"There is no way out of that ravine. Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety. What they will get is a massacre." Gandalf adds grimly before turning to face Aragorn and Elgarain again with a softened gaze. "Théoden has a strong will, but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defences have to hold."

The air is thick with tension as the two regard one another before Aragorn nods, resolutely, "They will hold."

Gandalf holds his stare for a moment, before turning to Shadowfax, gently stroking the mighty horse's coat. "They Grey Pilgrim. That's what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I've walked this earth, and now I have no time." He muses, opening the stall door and mounting his horse. "With luck, my search will not be in vain." He turns to look at them all, "look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look at the east."

Gandalf tightens his hold on the reins, and Gimli and Legolas jump out of the way as Gandalf blasts out of the stable at top speed, and out of their sight.

Slowly the remainder of the group dwindles from the stables until only Elgarain and Gyda are left standing among the horses.

Gyda shakes her head, but she doesn't turn to look at Elgarain. "I cannot belief he wishes to hide away."

"Edoras is not exactly well defensible," Elgarain responds carefully. "Besides, their warriors are scattered. I'm not sure I would have decided anything different."

Gyda turns to face the Elleth, "A fight will come, whether he wishes for it or not. He'll condemn them if we are to go for Helm's Deep. Its defence will not hold and we will not be able to leave. His people will die, he will die." She pauses. "You should know running away is never an option."

"Why must you always assume the worst? Helmsdeep is famed for its strong walls that have never been breached. Is not better to try and hold the enemy off instead of meeting them in the open when the numbers are against us?" Elgarain frowns.

Gyda recognises her stern Queenly mask she always uses to try and calm her advisors, though it seems to have the opposite effect on her. "Because I do not live in a land of fairy tales Elgarain!" She juts her finger at the Elleth. "Saruman is not an enemy to be underestimated, especially with the forces of Sauron on his side. Those walls will crumble like sand pillars. Helmsdeep is only a façade of idle hopes that have no way of protecting his people."

"I had hoped you knew better by now than to think I have my head in the clouds, Gyda," she says earnestly. "I know as well as you not to underestimate Sauron. However, that doesn't mean a fight is always the best or only option. We can't all have your warrior spirit and skill in battle."

Gyda scoffs, "You have your head in the clouds Elgarain if you think Théoden is right. It is not about spirit or courage; it is about what must be done." She pauses, taking note of the anger that is boiling beneath her skin and takes a steadying breath. "Do you think those children got away by mere force of fate? Saruman is no fool. He knows Théoden is scared. He lost his son, he dares not think of losing anyone else, so he runs, to a safe haven that will not protect him. It is a trap, Elgarain. You must see reason."

Her features harden and her voice is hard as ice. "Of course it is a trap, Théoden knows it too. But I would rather fight somewhere well defensible than charge headlong into an open battle."

With those words, Elgarain spins around and marches toward the exit of the stable, but anger consumes Gyda now wholly. "I have always known you to be an optimist, Elgarain." She calls after her, voice stone cold and the Elleth pauses beneath the archway. "But I've never taken you to be a fool."

Gyda doesn't look at the exit again as Elgarain storms outside.

A shaky breath escapes her lips, a seed of do guilt tries to find root in her heart but she denies it entrance. She stands by her words and who is Elgarain to ignore her advice? The Elleth had not seen such fights, not like she had. Elgarain had not seen the same struggle within her father as the former High-King marched through the land of their people. The villages slaughtered and slain in fields of ash.

It was the consequence of their own cowardice as the people of Lindon fled to their stronghold in the grey havens. But war waited for no one, and the followers of Sauron held no mercy in their bodies.

Sometimes Gyda still wonders if they fought from the start, if they could have snuffed out his might before it had grown too strong. And a darker, twisted part of her suffering wonders if her father would have survived then.

To rid herself of these thoughts, Gyda turns to Baldor instead, the steadfast mare stands calmy in his pen. There's a braid in his mane that wasn't there before and she reaches out for it. The course hairs, ground her again, as she lets it slip through her fingers. "Doom awaits us, Baldor." She whispers softly. "How cruel to ride there by our own free will."

Baldor's eyes shine as the might beast looks at her, as if understanding her. He juts his head, like a gentle caress against her head. And Gyda chuckles.

She unlocks the gate and leads him out by his reins. "I made a vow, but you shall not ride." She promises. "Go back to your master." She whispers, and the horse, knowing her words gallops away, through the city and out of the gate before someone can stop him.

Gyda watches with her arms crossed from the entrance of the stables with a grim expression at the gathered carts and supplies before retreating the shadows of Edoras and back into the halls of Meduseld.

The way to her rooms seems endless, and a frightened part of her fears Elgarain to be inside. But she masks her face with cool indifference.

Rummaging catches her attention, and the familiar song of a drawn blade rings in her ears. She follows it and peeks through an ajar door. Gyda finds Éowyn inside the room, running her hand down the flat side of the blade, smiling...deliberately, she practices her swing with an unexpected finesse.

She recognises the kindred spirit easily. The fire in the woman's eyes that flickers like an untamed beast wishing to escape the confines of a cage.

Her own fingers curl around the pommel of her sword, and she unsheathes it gracefully.

Éowyn whirls around and swings her sword when she hears Gyda approach.

Gyda meets her sword with her own, the blow is strong, but the move is unrefined, the grip weak. Gyda pushes her back, and the blonde stumbles backwards, both hand curling around the sword now, before swiping.

The Elleth blocks it, "You fight with spirit, but your skills lack refinement."

Éowyn juts her chin out, the fire burning brighter in her eyes. "Women of this country learned long ago, those without swords may still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain."

"I do." Gyda answers honestly. "I've experienced more than I'd wish."

Éowyn lowers her sword, regarding her in a new light. "I fear a cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them. And all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire."

"Your spirit shall never give in to such things." Gyda says surely, "Like mine it pleads to fight, your heart, it burns to protect. A cage could never keep us."

"Perhaps." She shrugs, but Gyda's words seem to have soothed something inside her.

"Raise your sword." Gyda instructs, clear and resolute.

Éowyn does so without complaint and Gyda moves closer, brings her elbows closer to her body and readjusts the woman's hands. "Tighten your grip slightly." She advices.

Gyda steps back and appraises her form with a silent nod before raising her own sword again.

Silence looms for a moment before both rush forward in a clash, steel singing. Gyda is mildly surprised by the woman's ferocity, but she's glad to see it awakened. Gyda juts her sword forward and Éowyn blocks it.

There eyes meet and Gyda grins at her before wrapping her leg around the woman's calve and pulls.

Éowyn falls, sword clattering and Gyda brings her own to point at her neck, but a spark of delight rushes through her when the blonde produces a dagger from her side and swipes it at her leg.

She is reminded of the elflings back in Lindon, of little Theon as he had surprised her with the same movement. Always be prepared. Was an important lesson she often taught.

But Éowyn already knew.

Gyda had barely managed to dodge her attack and Éowyn jumps up, sword back in her hand.

Their battle continues until they are to depart for Helm's deep.

The road to their doom awaits.

AUTHOR'S NOTE; our fav found siblings bbys area fighting again and it hurts like a mothetfu*cker! They are the definition of the heart and the head and it is only going being a rollarcoster from now on. Be prepared my darlings!

TRANSLATION
annon allen — I give thanks to you