by Elvenwanderer
The Rohirrim flooded throughout the caves; running to their heartsick wives and frightened children, the younger warriors to their mothers and sisters. None of the women were spared from tears. They cried whether they felt immense joy, relief, or utter despair.
In general, for the number of men that returned alive, twice as many did not. Most would never come back at all. From the start, the women had known that there was a good possibility that their men would not survive the night's battle. Each woman would help end another's tears during the most frightening times of the night, but, secretly, they all hoped that it would be someone else's husband that was sacrificed. They wanted their families to be untouched by death or by sadness, as anyone would naturally wish.
The families who had not been met moved towards the entrance to the caves, stealing miserable, sometimes menacing glances at happy families as they passed. They hoped beyond hope to see a familiar face coming towards them, but in their hearts they already knew the depressing truth: their warriors had given their lives during the battle to decide their country's fate.
The other women's wishes had come true.
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