His Queen

Chapter 29 - Kitra

The five hunters trudged on, their feet heavy with exhaustion as they crossed the vast plains. Aragorn's sharp eyes constantly scanned the ground, seeking out any trace of the Uruk-Hai and the kidnapped hobbits. The grass lay crushed under their feet, a telltale sign of the fierce chase that had taken place. Suddenly, the distant sound of hooves echoed through the air, growing louder and more thunderous by the moment.

Aragorn's hand shot out, gripping Kitra's wrist tightly and pulling her close. "Hurry, we must hide," he whispered urgently to his companions as they quickly ducked behind a nearby cluster of rocks. Kitra's heart raced as Aragorn's strong arm wrapped around her waist, shielding her from any potential danger. In the shadows, they waited in tense silence as the thumping hooves grew closer and closer, until finally passing by with a deafening roar.

A thunderous rumble shook the ground as a large group of horsemen, their banners flapping wildly in the wind, charged over the brow of the hill. The earth seemed to quake under their powerful strides and the sound of hoofbeats echoed through the valley. As the last of the riders disappeared from view, Aragorn stepped out from the shadows, holding Kitra protectively close to him. Her face was partially hidden by her hood, but her eyes were wide with both fear and curiosity.

Legolas and Gimli emerged from behind Aragorn, their gaze fixed on the retreating riders. Aragorn raised his voice, projecting over the howling wind. "Riders of Rohan... what news from the Mark?"

The riders abruptly turned, their horses swirling around in a flurry of dust. Eomer, their leader, lifted his spear in a commanding gesture, directing his men to form a ring around the strangers. Kitra quickly pulled her hood further down, concealing her features as the horsemen closed in, their spears at the ready. Eomer rode forward, his sharp eyes taking in each member of the group as he halted his horse in front of them

"What business does an Elf, two women, a man, and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?" Eomer's voice was firm, laced with suspicion. "Speak quickly!"

The tense atmosphere crackled with suspicion and danger as the unlikely group of travelers stood before Eomer, a fierce rider of the Riddermark. His voice was firm and commanding, laced with distrust as he demanded an explanation for their presence.

Gimli, the stout Dwarf, stepped forward boldly, his hand tight on the handle of his axe. Defiance burned in his eyes as he replied to Eomer's challenge. "Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine."

Eomer dismounted from his horse with a swift grace, stalking towards Gimli with a dangerous glint in his eye. "I would cut off your head, Dwarf... if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

But before tensions could escalate further, Legolas sprang into action. With the speed and precision of a striking snake, he nocked an arrow and aimed directly for Eomer's head. His voice was cold and unyielding as he warned, "You would die before your stroke fell." The tense silence was broken only by the taut sound of the bowstring being drawn back to its limit.

The Rohirrim, armed with spears and swords, immediately turned their weapons towards Legolas, their muscles tense and ready for a fight. Aragorn swiftly stepped between them, his hand firmly pressing down on Legolas's arm. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn," he declared with unwavering confidence. "This is Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas of the Woodland Realm. We are friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king."

Eomer's eyes narrowed with curiosity as they shifted to Kitra and Alana, who stood confidently beside Aragorn. He scanned them both before speaking again. "And your female companions?" he inquired.

Kitra held her head high, her hood pulled low to conceal her face, but her voice remained steady. "Kitra and Alana of the Dúnedain," she stated proudly.