A/N: I am thrilled that readers seem to have read my story! I hope that this story is as of yet enjoyable and adds to your imagination. As always, feedback would be awesome, I would love to know any ways I could improve.

Disclaimer: All recognizable pieces within this story are owned by the Tolkien estate. I do not receive money for any stories that I write.

A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast, but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel. Proverbs 12:10 KJV

Some have been thought brave because they didn't have the courage to run away- Traditional proverb

When I told my brother, Idhangoll, the news, his eyes widened like a spooked horse and took on a twinkle beyond the perpetual one. His ears perked up (he could always wiggle them, which gave me the creeps as a youngster), and his mouth parted. In a low voice he asked, "Do you jest?"

My lips turned up as I shook my head.

"Oh this is wonderful!" He licked his lips in excitement and his fingers began moving of their own accord. "Oh this is lovely, I must practice my Rohirric, oh, and Sindarin, mayhap brush up on…" And he simply walked away, dazed yet buzzing with energy.

I prayed that he would be accepted by Lord Faramir. Idhangoll's idolization of the Lord of Ithilien was not hidden and, in my humble opinion, it would be remiss to dismiss him as a scribe.

***scene break***

The ride to the stable the next morning was… unique, I upon Gramwig, and Idhangoll upon his mount, Rochallor.

Rochallor was a beautiful horse, with well defined shoulders and sturdy and strong legs. Rochallor was only 14.1 hands high, a fact which I frequently flaunted in front of my beloved brother. He was a blue roan gelding, a true beauty.

The only reason we ever were able to become the owners of such a fine specimen was because of a payment due to my second eldest brother (Maengraw, the silversmith), eldest on Arda, for a certain job he performed for a wealthy merchant who had neglected to pay him. But this merchant was finally persuaded by certain workers of his to give some sort of payment, so the merchant compensated for Maengraw's services by gifting him the most obstinate and mischievously clever horse of the stable. Maengraw, being not terribly fond of horses, begrudgingly took it, leading the horse home by hand until he came across Idhangoll. Idhangoll was quickly apprehended by my beast of an older brother and was commanded to bring the horse home. Might it be said that this merchant certainly was a coin pincher, as he gave us naught but the horse, a rope halter, and a lead rope, so Idhangoll deemed it wise not to ride the horse hitherto unknown to him, and simply led the horse home. For what reason that horse did not simply spook and flee while ensnared only by a rope around the face, I do not know, but Idhangoll returned home- safely- with the horse in tow. When he arrived home, I attempted to ride the beast, and I was thrown off. Repeatedly. I decided to cease for the day, as my temper was becoming unconducive to the situation. So imagine my surprise when the next day, I exit our home to see Idhangol astride the bare back of the bridleless brute. I am still bitter about his besting me upon that front, but I can take pride in the fact that Idhangoll has no interest in pursuing a job along the lines of my wishes, for with love comes competitiveness like no other.

So it was my brother who named the brute Rochallor, after the horse of Fingolfin, he said. And he loved that horse as much as he loved the pursuit of knowledge.

But that morning ride was riddled with nervous nonsense spewing out of Idhangoll's mouth like slobber from a dog's. Idhangoll would mutter to himself phrases in foreign languages and every so often turn and ask me "Did I groom Rochallor to Lady Éowyn's standards?" "Do you believe my language skills to be sufficient?" "Do you truly believe that I may be good enough?" I answered all of these questions in the positive, yet nothing soothed my brother.

***scene break***

The ride back from that meeting was silent. Idhangoll said not a word, and when I attempted to prod information from him, he ignored me, his gray eyes distant. He was dithery, but as intense as a bowstring pulled back.

***scene break***

You should have heard the whooping Idhangoll made when I told him that Lord Faramir wished to see him the next morning.

***scene break***

And so for the next few months, Idhangoll and I would ride to the estate of the Prince of Ithilian. I became more well acquainted with Lady Éowyn, and she would even summon me to her side during some of her walks around the stable. Often she was too busy to partake in such activities, but when she did, I would walk along with her, if Lord Faramir was not able to. It was through this sporadic but common enough companionship that I was able to become better in my horsemanship. I learned many ways of the Rohirric riders and many techniques that even the most skilled horsemasters in Gondor surely would not have known.

It seemed to be likewise for Idhangoll and Lord Faramir, though their companionship was certainly more dependable. The assurance of such inferences came one evening as we were riding home.

It was quiet, the clopping of the horses' hoofs particularly pronounced in the quieting of dusk.

Idhangoll spoke, "There have been reports of catamount attacks, so take care."

"How do you know about it?"

"Lord Faramir has received reports regarding such events."

I hummed and we didn't say another word the rest of the way home.

***scene break***

I shall never forget that day. Rochallor had been especially spooky, even Idhangoll had trouble staying atop the flighty equine. Lady Éowyn insisted that Rochallor take a pasture, once Idhangoll had told her that his horse had little like or ease within a stall. I put him out with a chestnut broodmare he had been crushing on, Stanfrith, though from all signs, it was completely platonic in nature. Still, it was cute to see the two standing so that they swatted flies out of each other's faces, or standing so that they could groom one another's shoulders. I reasoned that Rochallor had never been aggressive, if overly spirited. The stable master agreed and Lady Éowyn approved.

That is why I was especially tuned to listen for any signs of conflict from the paddocks.

I was mucking out the stall of a large chestnut called Candrusc, when I heard a screaming neigh full of terror and fury and anxiety.

In the next stall, Iaruraed, an old retired lead pony, screamed back.

Yet another screaming neigh from further in within the barn.

Gramwig.

I dropped my pitch fork and ran for the pastures. Feet pounding against the hard dirt path between paddocks. My ears throbbed from the rallying cries of other horses, relaying the distress call of Rochallor. Horses paced back and forth along the fence lines, desperate for the sense of comfort which a human could give them. I ran and the dry air burned my lungs. I came to the paddock, and my shriek joined the candemonium.

Stanfrith was bucking, rearing, anything to get the fiend off of her back. A huge, tan cat, larger than a dog dug his claws into the mare's back. The screams of pain, the shrieks of terror, it was deafening. The shivering screams of the catamount and the tramping against the ground.

I didn't even think as I ran up to the chestnut mare, blind to the flailing hooves. I began to scream, I screamed and clapped and stomped. My hands stung and my throat scratched and I screamed. Nothing, until the wind shifted and the catamount suddenly rolled off and fled into the woods.

My heart thudded, the neighs pounded in my ears, the excitement and terror shook me.

Suddenly two hands around my shoulders, out of instinct and the rush of the fight, I elbowed, and turned, throwing a punch at my attacker, hitting wildly.

The hands came off and I heard "Serpents! That hurt!"

My vision came into focus to see my brother, eyes wide and bright, and blood spurting from his nose. Nonetheless, he grinned at me and grabbed me, pulling me close and tight. I finally wiggled out of his firm grasp and looked at him.

"I heard Rochallor screaming, and I ran right here, and I saw that mare bucking and I saw you and… and… I am so glad you are all right, Beria."

Éowyn ran towards Stanfrith and my brother sat me down and I knew no more.