DISCLAIMER-I DO NOT OWN LOTR, TOLKIEN DOES.

The sun rose high in the sky above the weary cloaked rider who sat upon a tired grey mare. It was already afternoon on the fifth day of the rider’s journey and they were exhausted. They hadn’t thought to bring provisions so they and the mare were famished and yearning for drink. The both of them would be grateful to see anything besides the seemingly-endless plains.

Two more hours of restless traveling made the cloaked rider wonder whether they were heading in the right direction or not. They were about to make the grey mare turn around when they suddenly spotted a large hill with homes dotted alongside its slope. A big palace sat on the top of the hill.

The exhausted rider grinned happily. They had found Edoras.

The hooded traveler urged the grey mare onward to the city in Rohan. The mare, as if sensing that food and drink lay inside the city, galloped with renewed energy to the large gates.

The guards from up top gasped at the sight of the cloaked figure on a horse, heading right for them. They were obviously baffled by this peculiar sight and after much argument, they let the rider into Edoras.

People stared and whispered at this odd stranger. Could this be one of His followers? What were they doing in Edoras? The hooded traveler smiled wide underneath the large hood at these murmurs and stares. They didn’t care. They were just curious as to what to do now. They had arrived at Edoras…but what next?

Five people pushed through the crowds and stood around the grey mare, staring at this mysterious stranger with apprehension. The rider studied them curiously. Two had golden hair, one man and one woman, but the man was older. They seemed to be from Rohan. One man had blond hair as well but he had pointy ears. This had to be an Elf, thought the rider. One man was small and had reddish brown hair that was tied in a braid down his back. He had a large beard. The cloaked figure guessed this to be a Dwarf. A tall man with dark hair regarded the stranger with the most suspicion. It was hard to tell where this man was from. The last of the group was small, three feet high and possibly a few inches taller than that, and had wild brown curls which matched his eyes color. The rider did not know what race this creature was. A Dwarf without a beard possibly?

The old man with fair hair and non-pointy ears said sternly, “Who are you? Why are you here? If it is from Mordor that you came from, you will deeply regret arriving here, stranger.” The rider smiled, unbeknownst to the people watching this conversation. “Be at ease, sir. I am merely here to see King Theoden of Rohan, to ask about Antien Sáerk. If you could kindly point me in the right direction, I would be most appreciative.”

The Dwarf snorted and said, “Oh, nice try. You can’t just avoid our questions.” “Who are you, and what business do you have?”, added the Elven man, looking a bit irritated. The cloaked rider laughed at their hostility. They said, “Oh, come now. Surely you don’t need to be rude to a poor traveler! I have been riding for five days, trying to reach Edoras. I come from Minas Tirith, on Lord Denethor’s orders.” The unknown stranger practically gagged while saying the Steward of Gondor’s name.

“What is your name, Gondorian? What does Denethor wish from us?”, asked the old man who had spoken to the traveler first. He sounded irritated and impatient. “I come because I have no one left for me at home. My uncle lives here. I seek Antien Sáerk, as I mentioned earlier. Is he here, or has he been taken by Death as well?”, said the rider.

A man with fair hair and bright blue eyes shoved his way towards the mysterious Gondorian. He wore battle armor over his farmer clothes and looked ecstatic to see this strange rider. He cried out, “No, he is not dead! I am your uncle. And I am guessing that your mother is Rodwen?”

The rider nodded its hooded head and pulled away the hood of their cloak. People gasped to see a young girl of eighteen, with blue-green eyes and messy curls, sitting on the grey mare. Antien Sáerk said, “Calloniel Värse, my niece indeed! Why do you seek me, dear?”

Calloniel looked pained and struggled to find a way to tell her uncle Antien why she had been sent away to Edoras. There would be no kind way to say this, she thought miserably. She sighed and said softly, “Uncle, I am so sorry but I bring terrible news. My parents have been…killed. And I was sent to you, since you are one of the two relatives I have left in this world.” She bowed her head and without meaning to, Calloniel began to recall the exact events that had led up to the horrific deaths of Rodwen and Adan Värse.

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