this was written for a "ficathon", held among some of my fellow LOTR fans, about the daughter of Helm Hammerhand of Rohan. I had a very hard time finding inspiration for it, so conceptually there's not much depth to it, but in the spirit of Tolkien I at least tried to give her a role to play in the scheme of things with a decent adventure.

THE KING'S DAUGHTER

The journey was unlike anything she'd yet experienced. She'd been out in the cold before, but this was a cold that could not be put into words. The wind forced its way under every layer of clothing, chilling the flesh right down to the bone. The snow reached above the knees, almost to the hips at times, blinding as it fell to the ground upon the driving wind, stinging the face and melting in the boots. Through the thick whiteness distance could not be perceived, and it mattered little whether it was night or day.

Here, in the lead of the expedition, was a lady of few words, tall and fair. By her structure, sturdier and slightly broader than most women, from afar some fancied she was really a man, but the sight of her delicate skin and soft eyes would quickly put that to rest. Indeed she was of such beauty that loremasters visiting from Gondor fancied her a princess of the mighty elven race of Noldor.

From Dunharrow, where she had retreated with many of her people into hiding, it was time to set forth. No men of Edoras had ever retreated in her following, not even a scout or emissary bearing news. She could only assume all had been slain or imprisoned in defense of the Royal City, including her brother, and she assumed leadership over those that remained with her.

Before long Wulf had sent a small company to claim Dunharrow, shortly before the winter began, but she slew the leader at his challenge, sparking a bloody battle at the gate to the refuge. With the help of the men of the mountains and some of the young women they were able to drive off the enemy. But the winter was cruel this year – their shelter was nearly buried, their supplies were already running very low, and it was only a matter of time before Wulf, set on taking a bride of royal blood from where he sat on the throne a day's ride away, sent a larger force.

The men of the mountains she had to help her were very few, for few lived in these parts, so close to the Dwimorberg, and the weaker of her people – elderly, children, and their mothers – were many. So she left the men to protect the caves, deciding to make the journey herself across the mountains, and choosing four girls to help her she plotted the shortest route that would allow her to reach the Road undetected. What help she would be able to find or how she wasn't completely sure of, and certainly any who remained in the Deep would have little to spare. But she was determined to bring aid back to the people who awaited her, somehow. Perhaps a small band of women crossing the mountains in such conditions would move some at the Burg to return with her.

The path through the mountains was not a great distance, but the wrath of the Long Winter upon their journey made the trek all the more treacherous and slow-going. The hardship of it, however, she found exhilarating. Wrapped in blizzard and deafened by howling wind, one would quickly feel isolated, focusing on the dredge forward and the careful placement of steps, and she found the loneliness of it comforting somehow – certainly more comforting than the loneliness she felt when surrounded by all her kin in the halls of Meduseld. The trappings of royal life for women she often felt lacked purpose, much more so than men battling on the field or the homestead women bustling to maintain their farms. The challenge she now faced made her feel more alive, and in the excitement and danger of their cold situation, she felt deep inside her a warmth of contentment.

Two weeks into the journey she noticed that some of the girls had become disheartened and were beginning to lose hope. More than one talked of wanting to turn back. She would tell them not to speak of giving up, fearing such talk would only magnify their fears, but then she began to fear also the possibility of a mutiny. The test came one day when she turned, and seeing no one behind her, paused to wait. Before long a party member emerged from the veil of fog and heavy snow, and several moments later another came. The lack of cohesion in the group distressed the princess, who now felt ashamed that as the leader she did not at that moment know where all the members of her party were. The third girl came into sight and joined the group where they stood, but after many moments the last member had not appeared. The princess grew worried, and after waiting a good while longer she resolved to turn back. Some complained that they should go on without the missing member, to which she was horrified. "Wait here a moment, if you can handle that much," she said curtly, "I will look myself."

Just then the missing girl, Aldwyn was her name, emerged in the distance, proceeding very slowly, and before long it became clear she walked with a limp. She had slipped some time that morning and twisted her ankle, but was too far separated from the group to call for help, and found the strength to continue on her own. The princess rushed over, taking the girl's arm about her shoulder. When they reached the group, they were all given a warning in a stern voice. "This could have been any one of us," she said, gesturing to the girl's injured foot, "if we cannot look out for each other, then we cannot make it safely out of here - whether we turn back or continue forward." She then began doling out individual responsibilities that the entire group would be dependent upon, in hopes that the occupation would keep their minds off the bleakness of the situation, also that they take turns as crutch for Aldwyn, and she ordered that none were to stray out of sight of the rest of the group. She even went so far as to link them all by rope when they hiked, so that if one fell behind by some injury or weakness the rest would immediately know.

Inside she scolded herself for becoming so wrapped up in her own experience of the adventure that she nearly forgot her purpose – to look out for her people. What did such adventures matter at all if sought in selfishness? How would it give her the sense of purpose she longed for? She had assigned the people around her duties to help her – the men guarding Dunharrow, the women she'd asked to come with her who helped carry food and supplies, and she was not now living up to her side of the trust. Her mission was to find help; happiness could wait.

The new focus on teamwork did help the morale of the expedition, and indeed the hike seemed to go a bit easier thereafter. They reached the Road in another week-and-a-half. Though heartened by clearing the first hurdle, the girls were disheartened still by what lay ahead, for their supplies were running low and the road to the Deep was very long. "What if we get there, Ladyship, what then?" said one. "What help will it do? How will we bring enough supplies back over those mountains for all those people?"

These were legitimate questions, and even though the princess had all sorts of what-ifs, maybes and other ideas stirring in her head, she did not for sure know the answer to any of them. "Do not ask me questions," she would reply simply. "We must first get there, and at the moment that is enough to worry about."

The girls had grown much closer, and now complained less, for the princess had earned their trust with her new dedication to their well-being. She had grown quite fond of the young girl, Aldwyn, in particular, in sincere admiration of her hardiness of spirit when dealt a crippling injury in such a terrible situation. And having been rewarded for her responsibility with such camaraderie and gradual success, she had quite forgotten at this point her search for happiness – though as the leader she still allowed herself little mirth.

The journey to the Deep took another three weeks. They nearly misjudged when to turn South, back into the mountains, but for one strangely fortunate day in the journey when the snow broke and the sun came out. By the calendar, spring was nearly due, though clearly it would not arrive for some months, yet.

The last four days they walked hungry, for they had depleted their rations completely. But they remained in surprisingly good spirits, with the completion of the mission on their minds, and when they saw the Hornburg peaking out of the snow all doubts any might have had in their leader, including the from leader herself, melted away.