Chapter Seven: Escape

A/N: I hate the mare's name but I couldn't think of anything else, nor could I find out the name of Éowyn's horse if Tolkein ever gave it one. Flame me at your pleasure.

Gryphix: Here's Éowyn being her feisty self again.

I admit it, I panicked.

But wouldn't you? I mean, if your worst enemy, the man who had stalked you for as long as he had known you, kidnapped you, wouldn't you be scared?

Oh well. All that matters is I panicked. All during the northwest ride, I worried and fretted and dreamed up every possible scenario, provided it went badly for me. By the time they made camp, I was crying. Wormtongue thought it was due to the hard ride (which it was not. I'd been on hard rides since before I could walk. One more wasn't going to hurt me) and hit my leader again. Meanwhile, I huddled beneath my blanket and tried to make myself see sense.

I knew someone had to be coming to help me. Why wouldn't they? Unless they thought I was sulking somewhere. But when I didn't come to light, they'd come looking for me. So that was pretty much covered. But what if Wormtongue did something horrible to me in the meantime. I shivered and whimpered for a little more before the Dernhelm in me rose up and gave the hysterical lady a hefty mental kick.

I made myself calm down, and go over what my options were. I could just stay where I was and pray for rescue, but that did not sit well with my warrior instincts. I could try to escape, but I had no weapons, no horse, and no clothing other then my shift, my gown, and my hair-clasp. I suppose I could have used the hair-clasp as a weapon, but I was extremely reluctant to part with it, even if I could have reached it.

All this reasoning left me with only one option: give my kidnappers hell.

I began planning how best to do this. I could become a hysterical lady, but Wormtongue would never believe that. He knew me too well. Perhaps I could become ill with a relapse of the Black Breath. That would certainly slow them down, since tied-in or not I would fall out of the saddle. Perhaps...

My reasoning was broken off as a horse nudged me sharply in the middle of the back.

Startled, I sat straight up, making the bush next to me rattle. Thankfully, much time had passed as I calmed myself down, and all the men were asleep, except for a guard, who looked to be half-dead. I twisted around, and there was my faithful mare Whisper, saddled and bridled with my sword by her saddle!

Scratch giving my kidnappers hell. I was getting out of here.

I reached over and tapped the inside of her foreleg, the signal for her to kneel. She did, bringing the hilt of my sword within my reach. I pulled it out and set it on the ground, kneeling on the hilt and using the blade to saw off my bindings. The sharp edge cut quickly, and within minutes, I was on Whisper's back, the stirrups chilling my bare feet.

The bloodthirsty part of me begged to be allowed to kill Wormtongue, but the practical side refused. He was likely to scream bloody murder and I couldn't afford that. I did allow myself to scratch a crude picture of me waving goodbye, then sheathed my sword and took off. I was free!

Time to go home and tell my brother to improve his defenses.