This is my first Fanfic, please give feedback! Part two is on the way. I
hope you like it(
Note that I do not Own Eowyn, Aragorn or any other characters from LOTR… and I don't own LOTR itself… though I wish I did.
"I say to you lady: Stay! For you have no errand to the south."
I ponder the words that the lord Aragorn spoke to me, and my heart fills with the desire to be free. For I want nothing more then to escape my cage, and ride with my brothers, ride with my people, ride with my love. But alas, my love has left me now, and I despair that I shall never come upon his face again. For long hours I have shut myself in my chambers, my heart aching in sorrow, my eyes filled with unseen tears. But I have made up my mind now, and I know what I must do to ease my pain.
I look to the mirror, into the glass that is a smooth as a lake on a calm summer's day. In it, I see a reflection that is not my own, no indeed it is not. For no longer do I look upon the White Lady of Rohan, rather I see a soldier, young and strong. He is dressed as a rider in mail and tunic, and he bears a sturdy helmet upon his head, which allows one to see nothing but his eyes, gray as the mountains, and filled with such determination as I have never known.
He removes the helmet, and again I see myself in the reflection. The woman with the golden hair, the woman of sorrow whom all other's pity. I place the headgear on my bed and strap my sword to my side. I will ride to war and win honor and renown. For no longer I am Eowyn, Eomund's daughter. I am Dernhelm, rider of the mark.
~*~
My uncle and brother ride from Isengard, victorious. I rode to welcome my kin, and they greeted me with warmth and told me of their tales in battle. And though I was glad for their victory and safe return, my heart ached, for I was not there to fight along. I bid them to the table where we ate and drank merrily, but not long into our feast, a great man wearing the clothes of Gondor entered He, was a messenger, for I had seen those of his type many times before. In his hand he bore a red arrow, and he spoke to my king of the war to the south. He begged for our aide, pleading that we were Gondor's last hope. This was no news to me, for I had sensed the oncoming war for some time now.
I excused myself and slipped away to my own quarters. There I pulled over me a green cloak, which was warm and heavy and made for a man much greater then my size. I lifted the hood over my head, hiding my face, and under it's cover I slipped out into the night, for I had many errands to do before the dawn broke again.
I moved cautiously through the camps, where endless numbers of men patrolled back and forth, making preparations for the ride ahead of us. They spoke in gruff voices to one another while filling their quivers or saddling their great horses. I passed warily through the rows of tents, at last coming upon a building that was tall and smelled strongly of hay.
Entering the stables I found it remarkably empty, as a majority of the horses were already removed and being made ready for the journey. I searched the rows for a suitable horse, for I would not be able to ride my own mare to the battle, I most certainly would've been discovered for sure. I found my new steed in Windfola, a young gray stallion who, despite his age, was swift and powerful. He longed for war as I did, I could see it in his dark eyes. He had been trapped in the stable since his master died not long ago, and has yearned so much to be free, to run over the plains again and ride to battle.
I took his large head in my hands and stroked his nose softly. I spoke lightly to him and fed him an apple from my pocket to earn his trust. Without trust, a horse and rider could not be successful in battle. For a long hour I stood beside the horse, until I knew midnight was near. Then I slipped away on light feet and returned to my tent unseen. I needed to rest up, for tomorrow I ride to Gondor.
~*~
Morning never dawned, the sky remained black as the night and my people were greatly disturbed. I new dark arts were behind the occurrence, but I had no time to ponder anymore. In the full outfit of a rider, I came to Windfola once again, and saddled and bridled him. I loaded my pack with all I could bring with me, and together, the great stallion and I left the stable and joined the host of riders that formed outside.
The king and my brother stood ready at the front, surveying the troops and keeping order among them. I saw the Halfling riding towards them upon the pony Stybba, and as he neared me, I saw him look up. Our eyes met, but I turned away in fear of my being discovered.
As I watched him pass, I realized the he also felt much pain. All his company had gone, leaving him behind, and now in Rohan he must stay against his wishes. I thought of how I was able to escape my cage, but Meriadoc was not as lucky as I, he was too small to ride the horses of the Rohirrim, and Stybba could not keep pace with the great steeds. But my uncle permitted him to ride with us as far as Edoras, but there he would be left, unless…
On the course of the journey a plan began to form in my mind. I would take the halfling with me, and together we would ride to glory, for I knew Windfola could bear us both the way. It took little time to reach Edoras and we came to a stop once again. Before the Golden hall, I saw the disappointment in the halfling's demeanor. He seemed to be waiting, just waiting for the king to ride to his side and invite him along. But alas, the event never came to pass. So instead it was Dernhelm who rode to him, and it was Dernhelm who offered to carry him to Gondor.
I saw the gratitude in the halfling's bright eyes, and I set him up before me, and covered him in my cloak. And together we escaped our cages and rode to war.
Note that I do not Own Eowyn, Aragorn or any other characters from LOTR… and I don't own LOTR itself… though I wish I did.
"I say to you lady: Stay! For you have no errand to the south."
I ponder the words that the lord Aragorn spoke to me, and my heart fills with the desire to be free. For I want nothing more then to escape my cage, and ride with my brothers, ride with my people, ride with my love. But alas, my love has left me now, and I despair that I shall never come upon his face again. For long hours I have shut myself in my chambers, my heart aching in sorrow, my eyes filled with unseen tears. But I have made up my mind now, and I know what I must do to ease my pain.
I look to the mirror, into the glass that is a smooth as a lake on a calm summer's day. In it, I see a reflection that is not my own, no indeed it is not. For no longer do I look upon the White Lady of Rohan, rather I see a soldier, young and strong. He is dressed as a rider in mail and tunic, and he bears a sturdy helmet upon his head, which allows one to see nothing but his eyes, gray as the mountains, and filled with such determination as I have never known.
He removes the helmet, and again I see myself in the reflection. The woman with the golden hair, the woman of sorrow whom all other's pity. I place the headgear on my bed and strap my sword to my side. I will ride to war and win honor and renown. For no longer I am Eowyn, Eomund's daughter. I am Dernhelm, rider of the mark.
~*~
My uncle and brother ride from Isengard, victorious. I rode to welcome my kin, and they greeted me with warmth and told me of their tales in battle. And though I was glad for their victory and safe return, my heart ached, for I was not there to fight along. I bid them to the table where we ate and drank merrily, but not long into our feast, a great man wearing the clothes of Gondor entered He, was a messenger, for I had seen those of his type many times before. In his hand he bore a red arrow, and he spoke to my king of the war to the south. He begged for our aide, pleading that we were Gondor's last hope. This was no news to me, for I had sensed the oncoming war for some time now.
I excused myself and slipped away to my own quarters. There I pulled over me a green cloak, which was warm and heavy and made for a man much greater then my size. I lifted the hood over my head, hiding my face, and under it's cover I slipped out into the night, for I had many errands to do before the dawn broke again.
I moved cautiously through the camps, where endless numbers of men patrolled back and forth, making preparations for the ride ahead of us. They spoke in gruff voices to one another while filling their quivers or saddling their great horses. I passed warily through the rows of tents, at last coming upon a building that was tall and smelled strongly of hay.
Entering the stables I found it remarkably empty, as a majority of the horses were already removed and being made ready for the journey. I searched the rows for a suitable horse, for I would not be able to ride my own mare to the battle, I most certainly would've been discovered for sure. I found my new steed in Windfola, a young gray stallion who, despite his age, was swift and powerful. He longed for war as I did, I could see it in his dark eyes. He had been trapped in the stable since his master died not long ago, and has yearned so much to be free, to run over the plains again and ride to battle.
I took his large head in my hands and stroked his nose softly. I spoke lightly to him and fed him an apple from my pocket to earn his trust. Without trust, a horse and rider could not be successful in battle. For a long hour I stood beside the horse, until I knew midnight was near. Then I slipped away on light feet and returned to my tent unseen. I needed to rest up, for tomorrow I ride to Gondor.
~*~
Morning never dawned, the sky remained black as the night and my people were greatly disturbed. I new dark arts were behind the occurrence, but I had no time to ponder anymore. In the full outfit of a rider, I came to Windfola once again, and saddled and bridled him. I loaded my pack with all I could bring with me, and together, the great stallion and I left the stable and joined the host of riders that formed outside.
The king and my brother stood ready at the front, surveying the troops and keeping order among them. I saw the Halfling riding towards them upon the pony Stybba, and as he neared me, I saw him look up. Our eyes met, but I turned away in fear of my being discovered.
As I watched him pass, I realized the he also felt much pain. All his company had gone, leaving him behind, and now in Rohan he must stay against his wishes. I thought of how I was able to escape my cage, but Meriadoc was not as lucky as I, he was too small to ride the horses of the Rohirrim, and Stybba could not keep pace with the great steeds. But my uncle permitted him to ride with us as far as Edoras, but there he would be left, unless…
On the course of the journey a plan began to form in my mind. I would take the halfling with me, and together we would ride to glory, for I knew Windfola could bear us both the way. It took little time to reach Edoras and we came to a stop once again. Before the Golden hall, I saw the disappointment in the halfling's demeanor. He seemed to be waiting, just waiting for the king to ride to his side and invite him along. But alas, the event never came to pass. So instead it was Dernhelm who rode to him, and it was Dernhelm who offered to carry him to Gondor.
I saw the gratitude in the halfling's bright eyes, and I set him up before me, and covered him in my cloak. And together we escaped our cages and rode to war.