Sword Maiden of Rohan | Of Every Race Saga Book IV

Chapter 6: Feelings Revealed

Several days later and nearly through with their journey there, Éomer and Déorhild both rode on. They rode slowly, saving the energy of their steeds for when it might be necessary. For though not a word had passed between them, they had mostly walked their horses on the journey so that if an attack should come unawares and they could not defend themselves, they could make a quick get-away from danger.

A slightly warm breeze blew up from the south, ruffling the manes of the horses and sending Éomer's and Déorhild's hair flying into their faces. Some of it landed in Déorhild's mouth and she had to lift up her hand to wipe it away. Éomer looked at her, chuckling softly. He was having the same difficulty though he struggled more with trying to keep his cloak from whipping him. Suddenly, they came to a halt. A few more leagues of green rolling valleys and they would arrive at the mountains. Then they would follow the range north-west till they came to Rohandras.

They went on till Déorhild stopped next to a wide brook. At this time of the year the water level was low, but it was freezing cold; a sure sign that October was almost over and winter would soon be here.

Éomer watched Déorhild fill her half-empty waterskin. He asked, puzzled, "Déorhild, why fill it up now?"

"Because there is no stream for many leagues and the one at the village is probably full and choked with the filth of orcs and will be unfit to drink. We will soon be out of water if we do not take as much as we can now."

Éomer jumped down from his horse and did the same as Déorhild. She tied hers to her horse and then went back to the stream. Éomer tied his and was about to get back on his horse when he noticed Déorhild still standing by the stream, her eyes fixed on the distant mountains. He reached her side and looked at her face.

She looked wistfully at the mountains, wishing they could be at their destination now instead of having to wait a few days more. Suddenly, she felt a sudden warmth on her shoulders and she turned to find Éomer's arm across her shoulders. His face had been turned to the mountains, but at her sudden movement, he looked now into her face and met her eyes, searching as if to grasp even little glimpse, that might be a clue to the mystery of her feelings for him. Déorhild felt her heartbeat quicken. She looked into his face, seeing as if for the first time the vast depth of feeling and affection in his light amber eyes. And then, before she knew what was happening, he kissed her lips softly. Déorhild turned away quickly and made for her horse.

He turned to his horse and without another word, lept into the saddle, crossed the brook, and kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead,that Déorhild would not see the tears that came so threateningly close. He knew now that Déorhild had no love for him, or else she kept it well hidden. He said coldly, "We need to keep going." Déorhild could hear the hurt in his voice and she felt remorse for the way she had treated him. She was afraid. Afraid to dare to love him for fear she might lose him the same way she lost her family...  

She crossed the stream with him and they moved on with not a word between them.

So they journeyed onward until the sun, which had been shining brightly all day, sank in the west and left the world in perpetual shadow. Éomer and Déorhild hadn't spoken since the incident at the stream. Silently, they dismounted from their horses and made camp. They did not make a fire for fear that the orcs would find them. After a meal that was as cold as the air around them, Déorhild tried to sleep, but she couldn't. Thoughts, many thoughts, swarmed around in her head so that to close her eyes only made it worse. She rolled over onto her back and lay, eyes opened, staring at the stars.

These small twinkling points of light, they have been here, shining down upon Middle-earth much longer than I have been alive. They have lasted all these thousands of years of torment, peace, war, sorrow, new life, joy. They have shone down upon both young and old; upon the Elves when they first came here and they will shine still when they have left. They have shone down upon youths and maidens in love all these years... Then her thoughts shifted. What about Éomer? I know now that he loves me. Why can I not love him in return? Is it truly because I am afraid? Afraid of losing him, like I lost my family and all that was dear to me? Or is it because I am a princess and he only a close relative of the throne and I think myself superior? Or is it merely that I don't have any feelings left?  And this thought horrified her. That I have tried my uttermost to kill any affection and feeling that I had left because I didn't want to live the rest of my life hurting? Have I turned into steel?...

Meanwhile, Éomer peered into the darkness for any sign of movement on the mountains rearing right next to him. Unconsciously, his gaze turned to Déorhild. He loved her, he knew that. I can never love another. Perhaps it is a curse, that I should love one who cannot, as far as I know, love me back. But,could it be that she has never thought of loving me that way?  He mused. If that be so, then there's still hope. My father said long ago, that there is always hope. "If there is no hope, there is no life." So I will love her till I die. But I will not force her to love me. No, she must love me of her own accord.

Both Déorhild and Éomer were startled by a far-off, inhuman cry. They both jumped to their feet. Éomer drew his sword while Déorhild grabbed her bow and quiver. She notched an arrow and then they both waited in the eerie silence that followed that scream. Nothing else followed and the morning sun shone down upon two, tired humans, exhausted from straining ears and eyes for sight and sound of danger which had proved unfruitful.

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