[There is a storm coming. The sky is dark overhead, blotting out the sun, and the Golden Hall does not shine as it might, its thatch made dull in the overcast grey light. Even this close to the mountains, the weather does not usually change quite so fast. Something has changed, to bring this on.]
[Perhaps because of that, she cannot find it in herself to be altogether surprised when she is told there is a stranger approaching. Edoras is well-guarded, and she is well-informed; Háma trusts her more than he trusts most people, these days, and when he has doubts, he comes to the king's ward before the king. If she thinks about it, that is horrific. She tries not to think about it.]
[All of which to say, when Chris is met outside the city walls by an armoured spearman on horseback, it is not as hostile as it sounds. He is asked for his name and his business, but it is only his name that is needed for the soldier to nod satisfaction and lead him up through the back streets to the King's hall.]
[Éowyn is waiting for him outside, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, a bowl in her hand. Without further introduction, she holds it out to him: a hunk of bread, a handful of salt.]
Break the bread, dip it in the salt, and eat. And come inside, before the rain starts.
This is Háma, who keeps the doors. If you have any weapons, now would be the time to give them to him.
[It is very brisk, matter-of-fact, and it brooks no argument. If Chris is here, in the city, she is keen to seal his guest-right there as soon as possible; it is the best protection she has to offer.]
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sforzinda
no subject
Date: 2025-09-08 06:50 pm (UTC)[Perhaps because of that, she cannot find it in herself to be altogether surprised when she is told there is a stranger approaching. Edoras is well-guarded, and she is well-informed; Háma trusts her more than he trusts most people, these days, and when he has doubts, he comes to the king's ward before the king. If she thinks about it, that is horrific. She tries not to think about it.]
[All of which to say, when Chris is met outside the city walls by an armoured spearman on horseback, it is not as hostile as it sounds. He is asked for his name and his business, but it is only his name that is needed for the soldier to nod satisfaction and lead him up through the back streets to the King's hall.]
[Éowyn is waiting for him outside, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, a bowl in her hand. Without further introduction, she holds it out to him: a hunk of bread, a handful of salt.]
Break the bread, dip it in the salt, and eat. And come inside, before the rain starts.
This is Háma, who keeps the doors. If you have any weapons, now would be the time to give them to him.
[It is very brisk, matter-of-fact, and it brooks no argument. If Chris is here, in the city, she is keen to seal his guest-right there as soon as possible; it is the best protection she has to offer.]