Daughter of Rohan [Lord of the Rings | Eomer]

Chapter 14

Only the day before she had been standing in this very spot as the King's company had ridden toward the winding path that led to the camp. Now she was sitting on Windfola's back, watching as the supply train was winding its way down.

Barely more than an hour ago, she had watched with her heart in her throat as her husband had ridden out with the King for Gondor. If it had not been for the lingering dread that still clutched at her heart she would have thought the sight magnificent. Thousands upon thousands of Riders had surged across the plains after their King with a roar like thunder from thousands upon thousands of hooves, their spears glinting in the rising sun as banners snapped and flew overhead.

But watching the King's Army leave had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. No. Saying farewell to Éomer held that dubious distinction. He had been right; mere moments after she had asked only to be held, Éothain had indeed appeared in the tent's entrance, ready to wake Éomer if need be. Things progressed far too quickly after that. It felt like a blink of an eye later he was clad in full battle array, giving Hilde her final private farewell. She almost couldn't bear it, especially when she caught the flicker of sorrow in his eyes beneath the assured First Marshal he appeared.

But she did. And then she watched him mount Firefoot, his thoughts already ahead on the ride and the coming battle, sparing her only the faintest of smiles as he pulled away from her. She hated that he seemed almost unaffected, but she understood, for she was the same. She had her own emotions under such tight control that she could barely manage more than a wan smile and quiet farewell. But their grips on each other's hand as he urged his dappled mount forward were tight enough that she was almost pulled along with the grey as he bore her husband away from her.

Absently she had wondered then if Éowyn rode with them, or if she was just avoiding her. But later, as she was preparing for the journey back to Edoras, she learned that Folca was no longer with the remaining Edoras horses while Windfola was, and Hilde had her answer. So now she was riding her friend's horse, preparing herself to return to Edoras alone while her new sister rode her Folca into battle. And it looked like Éowyn wasn't the only stowaway rider either; Hilde couldn't find the hobbit Merry, either, even though his pony Stybba was still in the camp.

With a final sigh and final look over the trodden ground that had once been a bustling camp, Hilde finally admitted to herself that it was time to go. It hadn't even been an hour after the army had ridden out that the camp had been dismantled and packed away; there was no reason to linger. Turning Éowyn's chestnut mount she joined the last stragglers descending from the cliffs.

No matter how hard she was trying, though, she could not help but dwell on what faced those she loved in Gondor as Windfola plodded down the near treacherous paths of the cliff-face. She could not fight the fear that she had spent her last night at Éomer's side, or that she had kissed her husband for the last time. She couldn't seem to fight the regret that some of her last words to Éowyn sounded so harsh, or that she hadn't told Éomer what she feared his sister planned. Now it was too late. She feared the expectation placed upon her to rule the Golden Hall while the King rode to battle, and feared that the duty was to fall on her alone; she was not born to be a ruler, not by herself.

She was startled from her dark thoughts as she reached the foot of the path, her attention seized by the sound of a host of riders riding over the hills into the plains of Firienfeld. A faint flutter of aggravation flickered through her at how late these riders were. Urging Windfola forward she didn't hesitate to meet them just beyond where the supply train was turning toward Edoras. They had not missed the main army by much, and should be able to catch up before too long without exhausting themselves or their mounts. Over her shoulder, she noticed a small group of the women with the supply train had split off too, riding to meet the newcomers as Hilde did. It only served to fuel her confusion.