His Queen

Chapter 54 - Kitra

The Rohirrim had come to a halt beside a vast lake, its waters reflecting the deepening hues of the late afternoon sky. The air was heavy with tension, the knowledge of the battle ahead weighing on every rider. Kitra stood beside Carth and Lyra, listening as Eomer galloped up to Theoden. The grim news he brought darkened the already somber mood.

Eomer dismounted, his face set in a frown as he approached the king. "The scouts report Minas Tirith is surrounded," he said, his voice low but urgent. "The lower level's in flames. Everywhere, legions of the enemy advance."

Theoden's jaw tightened, but he remained resolute. "Time is against us," he declared, his voice carrying over the assembled riders. "Make ready!"

Kitra exchanged a glance with Carth, whose expression mirrored her own concern. Lyra stood nearby, her fingers gripping the reins of her horse as she listened to the grim reports. Kitra placed a hand on Lyra's shoulder briefly, offering silent support before stepping away. She knew she needed to find Merry and Eowyn.

As she wandered through the camp, Kitra's thoughts raced. The shadow of Mordor was spreading, and the battle loomed closer with every passing moment. But it wasn't just the battle that concerned her; it was the fate of her friends. Frodo, Sam, Pippin... they were all still out there, fighting their own battles. She had to believe they would be all right.

Kitra found Merry sitting near the fire, nibbling on something as Eowyn knelt beside him, offering words of comfort. Kitra slowed her pace as she approached, her heart warming at the sight of Eowyn's kindness.

"Take heart, Merry," Eowyn said softly, her voice carrying a quiet strength. "It will soon be over."

Merry looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. "My lady," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "you are fair and brave and have much to live for." Eowyn's eyes softened, but she remained silent as he continued. "And many who love you. I know it is too late to turn aside. I know there is not much point now in hoping."

Merry's small hands fidgeted with the edge of his cloak as he spoke. "If I were a knight of Rohan, capable of great deeds... but I'm not. I'm a Hobbit. And I know I can't save Middle-earth. I just want to help my friends—Frodo, Sam, Pippin. More than anything, I wish I could see them again."

Kitra's heart ached at Merry's words. She stepped forward and knelt before him, her presence surprising the Hobbit. "Did you think you would escape my notice?" she asked, a gentle smile on her face.

Merry blinked, his eyes wide. "No, my lady," he replied, his voice small but filled with affection.

Kitra didn't hesitate to pull him into a warm embrace. "Be brave, my friend," she whispered, her voice filled with quiet determination. "Stay close to Lyra or Eowyn for me. Pippin waits for your reunion."

As she pulled away, she patted Merry's head, her fingers lingering for a moment in his tousled curls. The Hobbit smiled up at her, a glimmer of hope returning to his eyes.

Just then, Eomer's voice rang out through the camp. "Prepare to move out!" he called, his tone urgent and commanding.

Theoden's voice followed, clear and resolute. "Make haste. We ride through the night."

A horn sounded, its mournful note echoing across the camp as the Rohirrim made ready to ride. Kitra stood, offering Merry one last reassuring glance before mounting her horse. She cast a glance toward Lyra, who was already mounted beside Eomer, her gaze focused and determined. Together, they would face whatever was to come.

The battlefield stretched before Kitra like a vast, living nightmare. The air was thick with the scent of blood, fire, and the acrid smoke from the burning lower levels of Minas Tirith. In the distance, the thunderous sound of Gothmog's orders rang out, a sharp contrast to the sudden, fierce cry that rose from the line of the Rohirrim. The horn blast echoed through the valley, and Kitra's heart thudded in her chest.