Rise of the Valkyrie

Chapter 1: The Death of a Valkyrie

"Gandalf, you must tell her-"

"Nay, peace, my friend. You will be able to tell her yourself."

A cough rang out in the worn healer's tent as a tall willowy figure in grey stood above a pale blonde woman laying down on a rickety cot in the cold. Her coughs were only echoed by the howling wind that beat against the thick canvas of the tent.

The woman tried to hold in the coughs and did her best to save her energy to tell Gandalf what he needed to know. Blood was spewing from a wound in her left abdomen, and she did her best to hold a cloth over it to dispell the bleeding.

But she knew it would not do her any good.

Her hand slowly came off the cloth and she grabbed onto the grey wizard's arm desperately. "My Wilda, please, you must tell my Wilda what she shall know-"

"Hush, Hilda, hush," Gandalf cut her off once again, moving to sit at her side. He placed a hand over her wound and closed his eyes, feeling the magic of the Maiar run through his veins-

But Hilda of Rohan, the famed Valkaryie, a warrior Shieldmaiden, grabbed his hand in her own. She knew when a battle was worth fighting, but she also knew when a battle was worth surrendering.

This battle she was fighting was going to be her last.

"Gandalf-" she coughed. "My friend, you must tell my Wilda…" her voice rasped, before choking off into more coughs that were filled with blood. Red stained her lips, and iron her tongue.

The wizard, looking down at her bloody hands staining his own, let out a sigh. Hilda was not one to argue or fight against. Her stubbornness could overtake an entire army of dwarves, even if they were a descent of Durin himself.

"What must I tell her?"

Her breathing was now coming out in wheezes full of fluid. Gandalf did his best to keep her afloat from drowning in her own blood, but the wizard knew that would be the Valkaryie's final fate.

"Wilda… she must know…"

He took her shoulders, staining the dusty tan tunic she wore, red. "Hilda, tell me what your daughter shall know."

The shieldmaiden's dark eyes flickered. The wizard refused for her to go this quickly. He shook her shoulders, wringing her head back and forth at the movement. "What shall she know, Hilda?"

Her eyes were dimming. The tunnel surrounding her vision was getting narrower, entombing all that she was…

"Hilda!"

A cough, deep and guttural sounded out, and suddenly Hilda found strength she had not felt before. She whipped her head up and stared straight into the eyes of her friend. "Gandalf… I feel so cold…"

He looked down at her with melancholic eyes. "Yes, I know, dear one."

"Wilda will not be safe…" she took a deep, wheezing breath. "She will not be safe… not be safe in Rohan."

This was news for him. "Hilda, what do you mean? Why will Wilda not be safe in Rohan?"

She blinked.

Blood fell from the corner of her mouth.

"Nec… Necromancer," she rasped. "He will… he will know…"

Gandalf felt his face pale. "What of the Necromancer, Hilda? What do you know?"

Hilda did her best to stay awake. She really did. Gandalf had to know, he just had to… why had she kept quiet? Did she think she would live forever? She was a fool, she knew. She was a fool who now would kill her daughter for this mistake.

"Wit-Witch, a witch, witch Easterling-" she choked. Hilda could hear her words were blending together, but she was adamant he knew. So that one day Wilda would know. "Wilda will need to kill... " she coughed, "need to kill necro-necromancer…"

Her voice was barely coming out as a whisper, now.

Gandalf, eyes wide and face pale, gazed down upon his dear friend with a strong feeling of terror running through his veins. Wilda was but a child, how could a child do such things?

And if the Easterling Witch knew, the necromancer would know too.

"Why would Wilda need to kill the Necromancer, why shall Wilda perform this bidding?" he asked, bending down to ask into her ear. "Why Wilda?"

He leaned back over Hilda, as her lips grazed his ear, "So he…" a shallow breath, "so he will not kill… not kill her first…"

Gandalf pursed his lips.

Hilda took her last breath.

The grey wizard looked down upon his friend one last time and closed her unseeing eyes while whispering a prayer to the Valar.

Gandalf prayed for Hilda, may she find rest and peace in the halls of her forefathers. May Wilda find strength in the aftermath of becoming an orphan and find someone who she can lean on. May Rohan remain strong after the loss of their precious Valkyrie.

And may the Necromancer never learn of Wilda's fate.

For all their sakes.