note: This story's heroine is Hilde, a character I made up in the fifth Eolasse chronicle. She was only a little girl then, about nine, but she is now almost sixteen. A Royal Summons follows her life after the Hunting of the Silmaril. Hilde is pronounced 'hild-eh'. (and also- I apologize for my blatant Eolasse promotion. I just love her so much!) I think this is my favorite story in this collection.
My name is Hilde. That is how this story should start, with my name.
It means hilt, as in sword hilt, and mother says that it means the necessary part of something, the part you can hold without getting hurt. I guess my sister, Gailen, is the blade, quick and sharp. What use is the hilt without the blade? I ask mother, and she parries, What use is the blade with out the hilt?
I have lived in Emnet, Rohan, all the fifteen and a half years of my life, unless you count the short time I spent on a horse with Lady Eolasse, the Golden One, the Thrice born, the Twilight Maiden. She has so very many names and I have but one.
She has so many stories, and I am but a single thread in the tapestry of her legend.
I was nine during the Hunting of the Silmaril, when she and her love, Legolas the elf, defeated Morgoth and stole and destroyed the last Silmaril. She was eighteen.
She was seventeen during the War of the Ring, when two halflings destroyed the ring of power, shattering Sauron's rule over Middle Earth.
She was part of the fellowship of the ring, she fought the orcs at Helm's Deep and Pelennor Fields and the battle of the Black Gate, she heard the gods inside her head.
She is Rohan's greatest hero.
She is also, oddly enough, my sister.
Not directly, obviously, she's my foster-sister Frea's half-sister, as well as Frea's half-brother (on the other side)'s wife's cousin.
I have decided to never marry royalty, because they're all so intermarried that my children might accidentally marry their illegitimate siblings.
I have lived my entire life here in a cottage with my mother and my (too many) siblings.
Until very soon, when I will be departing for Edoras and the golden hall of Meduseld, and Eolassse and Lothiriel. Because I have recieved a letter.
A Royal Summons.
Mother says I should leave soon, so as to avoid the first snows that might hinder my journey.
This is how my conversation with the Cat this morning went.
Cat, I am going to Edoras.
Frightened?
Yes.
Excited?
Yes.
Good.
I'll miss you, Cat.
Don't.
Will you miss me?
No.
Oh. Goodbye, Cat.
Meow.
He wasn't in a very talkative mood.
Ghiaibhen, the youngest sibling besides me, says my mind is turned if I talk to the Cat and the Cat talks back. I don't think I'm turned in the head; just more observant than others. I've tried talking to goats but they just nibble my fingers and breath grass-breath into my face, and birds are too quick to stop and chat.
But the Cat, he has time on his paws and likes to have a conversation, but sometimes I have to bribe him with cheese.
I'd say that mother doesn't notice the missing cheese but I know she she notices everything, so I think she mustn't mind.
It is Autumn, I thought I should say that. The moon was round and full last night.
The leaves are orange-red, the grass golden-bown, the garden going to seed and the apples round as the moon. The sky today is bluer than it has ever been before and the air smells like promises.