The Silver Flame (LOTR)

Fangorn's Forrest

The thick, humid mist of Fangorn Forest swirled around Visenya, dampening her pale blue dress as she walked alongside the Fellowship. Her thoughts were heavy, still reeling from the battle at Helm's Deep, yet she found solace in the steady presence of the companions around her. Though the weight of loss and exhaustion sat heavily on her, there was also a feeling of anticipation in the air. Isengard lay ahead, its ruin a symbol of Saruman's defeat, but even in victory, Visenya could not shake the unease gnawing at her heart.

Her attention was drawn to a sound behind her—hooves thudding softly on the forest floor. She turned to see Éomer riding up, his proud stallion Firefoot moving with grace through the dense trees. Theoden and the others rode behind him, but something about Éomer's gaze was fixed. It was on her. Their eyes met briefly, and to her surprise, his expression softened as he approached.

"Lady Visenya," he greeted, his voice low and respectful. "I see you walk, though I had thought you would be weary from battle."

Visenya allowed herself a small smile, though the cut on her cheek tugged painfully. "I am weary, Lord Éomer, but it is a weariness we all share. I do not wish to be idle when there is still work to be done."

Éomer's gaze flickered to the cut on her cheek, his jaw tightening slightly before he returned his attention to her face. "You need rest, not more strain," he murmured, concern evident in his voice. "There will be plenty of time for tasks when we have dealt with Saruman and Gríma."

Before she could reply, Éomer dismounted, walking Firefoot beside him. He stopped next to her, his gaze searching her face. "Would you ride with me? Firefoot will carry us both easily."

Visenya blinked, taken aback by his offer. There was something intimate in his words, a kindness that seemed to extend beyond simple courtesy. She felt a warmth creeping into her cheeks as she hesitated. "Are you certain?"

"I am," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile. "It would be an honor."

Visenya looked down for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze. She had been avoiding these feelings—the growing connection between them—but here, in the quiet of the forest, it was undeniable. With a soft nod, she accepted his offer, and Éomer's smile widened as he extended a hand to help her mount.

The moment she took his hand, a spark ran through her. He lifted her effortlessly onto Firefoot, positioning her in front of him. She felt the warmth of his chest press against her back as he climbed up behind her, his arm brushing against hers as he took the reins. Her heart raced as the proximity between them became undeniable. His scent—earth, sweat, and leather—wrapped around her, grounding her in the present even as her thoughts scattered. She felt the memories of their bodies moving against each other the last time she road in front of him upon his stallion... and a flush came to her cheeks. 

They rode in silence for a while, the rhythmic motion of the horse's gait calming Visenya's mind. She could feel the steady beat of Éomer's heart behind her, and it soothed her in a way she had not expected. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to lean back, resting lightly against him. She felt his breath catch, but he didn't pull away.

Ahead, the trees of Fangorn Forest parted, revealing the broken ruins of Isengard. The sight was haunting. The once-great walls of Saruman's stronghold lay cracked and splintered, jagged shards of stone scattered across the landscape. Yet even in its ruin, the dark tower of Orthanc remained standing, looming ominously in the distance as pale waters lapped at its base.

Visenya felt a chill creep up her spine as she took in the desolation of the place. She had heard stories of Saruman's treachery, but to see the aftermath of his betrayal was something else entirely.