How did it come to this?
Loyal to her family, her lands and her people, Théadain, the illegitimate daughter of Théoden, King of Rohan, has little concern for the world that lies beyond her familiar grasslands. When all that she loves is threatened...
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Chapter 30
Three days, and three nights they ran.
Exhausted from the battle, their pace was steady, though not as quick as Théadain would wish. Yet, once they had tracked the clear path the Uruk-hai left through the forest, it became clear that they were moving Northwest, directly into Rohan.
They could make up ground here, as they crossed the hills that bordered East Emnet. She knew this land, knew where they could cut across a hill and pick up the trail on the other side, whereas their quarry seemed to favour seeking the flat ground between the hills. And so, they gained on them, taking no rest out of fear the trail would grow cold.
Théadain was glad of the constant pace, it meant she could not stop to think, to indulge herself and allow her heart to ache. Boromir's loss was a fresh wound, one that would not begin to heal for some time. As long as her feet kept pounding against the earth, her eyes always set forward, she could not think of him. She dreaded the moment when they would finally surrender to the need to rest, for she knew the moment she closed her eyes, all she would see would be black arrows and Boromir's face.
She did not dare let her mind turn to thoughts of her home either. They were so desperately close, but her feet could not take her to Edoras, she had to push on, to keep following the trail of the Uruk-hai, and Merry and Pippin.
At times it seemed only Aragorn was able to follow their trail, and Théadain had to marvel at his skill. It seemed in his mind's eye he could paint an image of what had occurred hours, even days ago, only relying on the faint clues that only he could spot. At times he would dash ahead, spurred on by an unknown energy, to press his ear to the ground and listen for their footfalls, urging them to hurry if it seemed they were falling behind.
One sign he had found as they dashed through the hills was unmistakable; the glimmer of green in the grass even caught Théa's eye, and she had released a shuddering breath as she recognised the brooch, identical to the one she and the three other hunters wore. The ones they had been gifted in Lothlórien. The brooch had to have been unfastened deliberately, cast down by one of the Hobbits. It meant they did not pursue them in vain, they were alive.
Following their discovery, they had pushed on until their path led them to a vantage point at the top of a hill. Théadain panted as she jogged to a halt, realising with a leap of her heart that they had reached the end of the rolling hills. Before her stretched the endless grasslands and plains of her homeland. This was the Rohan she knew, she could trace the rise and fall of the land with her eyes closed. To the North, the imposing darkness of Fangorn Forest lay as a mere smudge on the horizon, if she had not known to look for it, it would have melted into the sea of grass and haze of the sun. Southwest, beyond her sight lay the river Entwash that ran from Fangorn, and far beyond that, Edoras and the Golden Hall.
"Rohan, home of the horse-lords." Aragorn breathed as he moved to her side, casting his eye over the land that he had not stood upon in many years, not since he bore a different name, and long before the young woman at his side was even born.
