This is the English version of the story my sister Leka Ellahir wrote for the Tolkien Group 2009/2010 challenge.
As usual, it is dedicated to my sister and to all the girls in the TG
Hope you like it.
And please R&R so she'll be happy
-x-x-x-x-x-
I wish Éomer were here.
He and his Rohirrim would be a great help in the battle against Saruman's army.
A selfish part of me allows my love for him to overcome the love I feel for my people for some second and I feel relieved to know that at least he's safe like this. Or as safe as a warrior can be during this time of war.
I still cannot believe I feel for the trap designed by Saruman and became an absent king when Rohan needed my leadership the most, allowing that creature, Gríma, to brainwash and use me for Saruman's purposes.
And, more than anything, I cannot believe I denied and exiled my own nephew. My own blood.
I wish we could win this battle, if not this war, so I would maybe get the chance to meet him again and ask for his forgiveness.
I wish these sun lights that are coming from behind the hill gracing us with its warmth could heal the cold and emptiness I feel in my heart for not having him here with me now.
I see the Uruk-hai get scared, even though they are stronger and outnumber us. I follow their gaze and I find myself looking at Gandalf alone at the top of the hill that gives access to Helm's Deep.
For a moment, the battle seems to stop and everybody watch a lonely rider approach the wizard.
"It's impossible…It can't be…Éomer?" My heart screams, forcing itself to believe in what my eyes don't seem to be able to: that it's really my nephew éomer that has returned to help us in these dark times.
And when I see him riding alongside Gandalf and followed by all the exiled Rohirrim, I feel an odd sensation of peace filling me.
Everything's going to be fine. I'm forgiven.