My Sword Sings
by Agape4Rivendell
A
tale of Indis. This started out as a drabble - but soon led to more.
1. Fallen
Original
drabble: “He fell?” Théoden whispered. “It cannot
be.”
He fell back hard onto his throne, the throne given to his fathers by
the fathers of this man. And now he was fallen. It was too much to take
in. He had just been with them, just a few short days ago, for
Théodwyn’s troth pledge. And now he was fallen. He started to
shake; no
tears came. And then the moans began.
Théodred stood by the throne, appalled at his father’s distress.
The man had been friend, yes, but not that close.
“What now for the Éorlingas?” Théoden moaned.
----------------------
The Tale...
1. Fallen
"He fell?" Théoden King whispered. "It cannot be."
He staggered back hard onto his throne, the throne given to his fathers
by the fathers of this man. And now he was fallen. It was too much to
take in. He had just been with them, a few short days ago, for
Théodwyn's troth pledge. The King began to shake. No tears came;
then moans issued from between bitten lips.
Théodred stood by the throne, appalled at his father's distress.
The man had been ally, yes, even friend, but friend enough to draw out
such grief?
"What now for the Éorlingas?" Théoden groaned.
"Father, Boromir and Faramir must be told. A messenger must be sent to
Mundburg."
"How did he fall? Had he even left the Mark?"
Erkenbrand, standing silent behind Théodred, stepped forward.
"His company was attacked where the Great West Road crossed the Mering
Stream. None survived."
Finally the tears came. "Wise and valiant was my friend,"
Théoden whispered. "Tall and proud. True Steward of Gondor. The
very blood of Númenor flowed through his veins, strong and pure.
We will not see another like him, my son. In the times to come, he
would have been an excellent ally." He wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Now, bring the Lady Indis to me. The Steward's sister must
know."
Théodred bowed and left the throne room. Hurrying along the
halls, he wondered why his father was sending for this woman. Why he
had not sent the errand-rider immediately? Why had he been so disturbed
by the death of one not of the Mark? He shrugged. Father would know
what was best. He would obey.
Indis opened the door to the incessant knocking.
"Théoden King bids you approach his throne."
A smile crossed her face as she looked at the eager Heir to the throne
of Rohan.
"If you would give me but a moment or two; I have not yet broken my
fast."
"There is no time for trivialities," the lad said, holding the door
open and urgently beckoning the woman forward.
She stifled a laugh at the boy's excited behaviour, and decided to
reward his devotion. Such obedience was hard to find and should be
applauded. She would not tax the lad's patience. "One moment while I
fetch my cloak, then I will be there." She turned towards her bed, but
stopped as Théodred took her arm. "What means this?" she
shivered as cold fear touched her heart.
Another tug at her arm and alarm filled her. "What has happened?" she
cried. Her mirth at the antics of the Heir of Rohan turned to anger and
frustration.
"Please. You must come to the throne room now. Father is waiting."
"I am the daughter of Ecthelion of the line of Húrin. I will
brook no disrespect. Do not claw at my arm as if I were some rag doll."
Théodred stepped back in surprise. None ever questioned him when
he spoke in the King's name. "My Lady, forgive me. I will wait upon
your pleasure." He retreated to the door.
She regretted her tone. "Go. Tell your father that I will be along
presently." For some reason she did not understand, she felt the need
to assert her own authority, to remind the Heir that she was of
Númenórean lineage. She shook her head in wonderment.
'This is ridiculous,' she thought. 'I am playing cat and mouse with a
child! My presence is obviously needed, else Théoden King would
not have sent for me.' She picked up her cloak, wrapped it around her
shoulders, and stepped through the door.
She was aware of Théodred’s breath as he walked close behind. He
was almost as tall as she. She was surprised. She had not noted it
before. It seemed he willed her to increase her pace; as they entered
the throne room, he stepped in front of her.
Théoden King rose as soon as Indis entered, waved his bowing son
aside, and strode towards her, arms outstretched. A look of great pain
filled his face; the tracks of tears could be seen upon his
countenance.
Her heart constricted in pain. 'Something is terribly wrong,' her mind
screamed. 'Oh! Dear Valar, not the boys…'
She had not, until this very moment, even considered that one or both
might be hurt. She could not bear it. They had gone with Denethor to
the edge of Edoras to farewell him. She had not seen nor heard of them
since they had left; Listöwel had taken them for the night. Or had
she? That was yesterday, or was it? Her mind reeled in the sudden panic
that filled her. She took a quick look around the hall.
Forgetting even to bow, she crossed the space between them in a moment.
"What has happened?" she cried. "Where are Boromir and Faramir?" Her
voice was growing frantic and she willed herself to calm.
"Please, Indis, sit here with me." Théoden motioned towards a
bench near the great fire in the middle of the hall; the morning's
chill still hung in the air.
"Do not toy with me," she murmured darkly. "Tell me the news that
brings such fear to my heart. Tell me now."
"Please, Indis, sit first. I will be brief if you give me but one
moment."
She sat, folded her hands, and waited.
Taking a deep breath, the King knelt by her side. He took her hands in
his.
His actions caused Indis to shake.
"Your brother…" He had been going over in his mind how to say this; he
had searched frantically for the right words, yet none had come. He had
hoped, by the time she entered the hall, that he would be prepared. He
was not. "Your brother has been killed by Orc. And all his company,
slain as well."
"Arciryas was with him!" She fell in a heap from the chair to the
floor.
Théoden shouted for the leech. He swore to himself. He had
forgotten the woman's husband rode with Denethor!
