Daughter of Rohan [Lord of the Rings | Eomer]

Chapter 7

As the Uruk-hai fled the valley, the Riders followed, chasing them onward and away from the Hornburg. Hilde lagged behind, breathing hard as voices rose, calling for them all to stay away from the trees.

It was over.

She slid from the back of the horse she had joined on the battlefield, giving him an absent pat as she waded in among the strewn corpses of Uruk, horse and rider alike. There was someone she had to find. She could not rest until she knew...

When she finally found Brytta, she knelt by his head, lifting his now blood-matted forelock away from his eyes. They looked up at her, clouded with pain. The pike had found its mark. Looking upon the wound she knew she should end his suffering, and with a shuddering breath drew her father's sword, lifting it into position.

The blood-streaked blade fell from her trembling hands. She couldn't do it. So instead she sat with him, gently pulling his elegant head onto her lap. His eyes closed, comforted by the touch of her gentle hands. She couldn't bear for him to be alone. For the longest time she just sat quietly with him, her fingers gently stroking his broad cheek and neck. His sides jerked, his breath coming in ever slowing wheezes. Eventually, she leaned down, resting her forehead against his soft cheek. His great dark eye opened, watching her with a nearly human expression of love and contentment...and longing. A trickle of blood had begun trailing from his nose. Her red-gold hair, now dulled with sweat and blood, tangled with his chestnut mane.

"Thank you, old friend," she finally whispered, "You saved my life, though you paid for it with your own."

"But you are free now. Free to run to my father, and together you can ride to the Great Halls of our ancestors. Tell him I love him, and that I will miss him.

"And take care of him. I know he will take care of you." Tears had begun streaming down her face. With a final labored breath he went still, his expressive eyes going dull.

"I will miss you, Brytta," she mouthed the words more than spoke them, for her throat was too choked with grief. She leaned down a final time, placing a kiss on his velvet nose, stroking his cheek one last time. Then, setting his head gently back onto the ground, she stood, fighting back the urge to throw herself over his body and weep. He was a warrior just as much as any man. He deserved the dignity of a warrior's death.

"Westu hál. Ferðu, Brytta, Ferðu."* With that, she turned, pausing only to pick up her father's sword.

Though her jaw was set, tears continued to stream down her cheeks as she began the slow walk back to the Hornburg.

Whether through shock, blood loss or grief, pain or pure exhaustion, Hilde did not make it more that two steps before her entire world went dark. She collapsed to the ground, and knew no more.

***

"Stay out of the forest! Keep away from the trees!" Éomer cried out, pulling Firefoot up sharply even as the riders behind him reined in their horses, others already taking up the call. Before them, the Uruk-hai fled among the dark boughs and looming trunks, desperate to get away from the Rohirrim. But the Riders knew better. That forest had not been there before, and Éomer could feel in his bones that there was something other, something powerful about these trees. A flicker of fear went through him as he turned his eyes from his men to the trees.

Sure enough, as the last of the Uruks disappeared into the shadows of the forest, those very trees came to life, their long unheard voices roaring and groaning in satisfaction as their limbs and roots gave end to the shrieking Uruk-hai.

Letting go the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, Éomer turned to his King, meeting Théoden's gaze for the first time in what felt like an eternity. When Gandalf had found him, he had spoken of the change in the King, assuring Éomer that Saruman's spells were no more. He had been almost desperate to believe it, but part of Éomer had been wary, and not quite ready to take the wizard at his word.