4. Dark Times

Hunfred

I wait and wait for Brithwyn's word, but it does not come. She said she would think about it, but now I wonder if she could not be straight with me in her refusal.

She loves me, she says. Why will she not wed me?

But all my agony does not seem to matter to the world, for soon I am called away from Edoras. There are more and more foul creatures from the dark places of the world crossing into our lands and Lord Éomer's company is needed to secure the borders. I am duty-bound to go, and would go gladly were it not for Brithwyn.

I cannot keep it from her and leave without a word. I will not. So I confront her one last time. I find her as she works in the garden, Isemay at her side. She looks up when I come to the gate and apprehension fills her eyes at the look on my face. "Isemay, go inside," she says.

"But —" the girl protests.

"Go!" Brithwyn exclaims firmly, almost shrieking. With a childish huff, Isemay gets up and throws her tools on the ground and stomps inside. Brithwyn's face is one of consternation.

"Ugh, little sisters," she exclaims, getting up and brushing the dirt from her skirt. "She is the thorn in my side."

"I was happy to be well rid of mine when I left the Wold," I say with a grin, "But now I miss them more than I care to admit."

"Would you go back?" she asks me, coming to stand beside me, her hand on the arch of the gate between us.

"There are reasons to linger in Edoras, and not many, save my sisters, to return to my childhood home."

She smiles and leans across the gate, a heartbeat away, her mouth inches from mine. "And will you linger, then, Hunfred of the Wold?"

I bow my head, suddenly unable to meet her gaze. What I came here to tell her I would rather not say. But I know that I must. "I must away tomorrow morn."

Her face falls and she takes a step back. "I see."

"I have to go with Lord Éomer. We are needed to secure the borders. These are dark times, Brithwyn."

She looks at her hands, resting there on the gate and I try to reach out to touch them but she yanks them away. I sigh.

"Well, go, then. You are eager to go," she says brusquely.

"Nay. Not eager. Never eager to leave here, now. Were it up to me, I would not leave you, Brithwyn, but duty says I must." I reach across the gate again grab her hand. She does not resist, although her hand is limp in mine. "Brithwyn, please look at me."

After a moment, her eyes meet mine. They are sad and angry all at once.

"I would stay here with you gladly but what could I do to provide for us?" I ask her, tracing my thumb across her palm. "This is not only my honor-bound duty, but my livelihood as well. I have no land to farm or other trade to make my way in the world. This is what I do, what I have been glad to do."

"Then you must do it," she says matter-of-factly. "If this is so, then I see no other course."

"I intend to," I say. "But I had hoped an answer from you before I leave."

She folds her arms across her chest and meets my eyes. "I have no answer for you."

"Try, Brithwyn. Yes… or no." I open the gate that divides us, and pull her close, looking deep into her face. My hands grip her waist, holding her against me,

She juts her jaw forward and doesn't answer, staring at me with wide eyes. "Why are you doing this?" she asks.

"It is not a difficult question. Yes, you will wed me, or no, you will not," I say. I place my hand on her face and kiss her deeply, leaving her breathless when I pull away. "I love you. You love me - or at least I thought you did. Perhaps you don't. Perhaps it is another that you love. Perhaps you toy with me."

She raises a hand as if to slap my face, but doesn't, instead letting her hand fall to her side, her cheeks high in color. I bow my head, cowed.

"I'm sorry," I murmur.

"You need an answer," she says after a moment. I raise my eyes, and she looks at me, her face expressionless. My heart sinks.

"If an answer is what you need, then, the answer is no."

"No?" I ask in shock.

"No, Hunfred, I will not marry you." She watches my face for the briefest moment, and then turns away and begins to walk quickly back into the house, leaving me with a raw and bitter feeling in my chest. I do not understand.

—-

Brithwyn

I maintain my composure as I leave Hunfred at the gate, but once inside my house, I collapse against the door, sobbing. I will never be happy. I will never, ever be happy. I have hurt the only man I've ever loved. I cannot let myself have him.

"Brithywn!" Mama exclaims from the bed, and my little sister gets up from her chair and is by my side in an instant, taking me in her arms, her head against my chest. "What happened?"

"He's leaving," I cry hopelessly once I can finally manage a breath to speak, "And I am going to die an old virgin."

"Well, didn't he ask you to marry him?" Isemay asks, holding me tighter. "I thought he would."

"He did - and I refused," I manage between my hiccuping sobs. "I refused."

"Have you gone completely mad?" Mama exclaims, "You love this man, and he loves you, and you aren't getting any younger and we cannot possibly get any poorer - you had best take whatever you can get, you foolish child!"

"Mama!" I shriek, horrified but also amazed in spite of myself. My mother hasn't said anything so motherlike to me in years. "He would go away and die and leave me with nothing, like our father left you."

"Brithwyn, you should be ashamed of yourself," my mother says sternly, pulling herself up to her full seated height. Although I know she cannot see me clearly in this light, with her vision so afflicted, it seems as if she gazes right into my eyes. "Your father did not abandon us. He died in battle to protect us. He loved you - you, my daughter - so much that he gave his life to keep you safe." Mama's cheeks are now wet with tears of passion and, overexerted, she begins to cough violently. Immediately, Isemay and I rush to her side to aid her and just like that, the conversation is over.

But my mother's words haunt me when later on, when night has fallen, I step outside and take my restless, broken and weary heart on a walk. Yes, my father, a man I now can barely remember, would never have left me. Hunfred would never leave me willingly. But I know that I could never bear to be his widow. Better - safer, even - to never be his wife, if the mere pain of his leaving to defend our borders leaves me quaking in silent fear. It is that which slays me, I realize, coming to a halt beside the well where Hunfred first caused my heart to stop in my chest. Not my stubborn adherence to a silly vow made by a near child missing her father, but the real fear behind it: that I would be left alone, having known him and lost him.

He could die before I see him again.

The thought strikes me for the first time clearly. Hunfred leaving means Hunfred will be in danger. My knees grow weak and I put my hand out and catch the edge of the well, bracing myself as hot tears flow from my eyes and racking sobs tear my chest in two. Oh, Valar, protect him. Help me. Give us a way.

—

Éothain

Our horses tire, though they are hearty steeds, and we cannot ride hard in pursuit of orcs unyieldingly, so our progress has slowed for the moment and our company rides at a resting pace. I am lost in thought, as I so often am these days, although it seems to me that I think of nothing, turning over questions and images in my mind that have plagued me so long they cease to hold meaning, when Hunfred pulls up beside me. Oh, what now, from this man I once called friend, before he pursued a woman towards whom he knew I held affection? I have little to say to him and were I not his comrade in arms I would urge my horse forward and leave him behind. But that would not be honorable. And I intend to be so.

"I proposed to Brithwyn," Hunfred says to me.

I grit my teeth and stare ahead between my horse's ears. "Yes, I heard."

"She rejects me," he adds, and I glance at him with a raised brow.

"Is that so?"

"I am sure that you heard as much of her answer as of my question," Hunfred replies. "Word travels fast in Edoras, even of a stranger's humiliation."

I chuckle, although I do not intend it meanly, it comes out so. Perhaps I am glad that she rejected this man. After all, I have known much jealousy at his hands these past months.

"Why?" he asks softly, unfazed. "You surely know better than me."

I do know, if what she once told me is still true. But I am not certain of anything, anymore. "Why should I help you, Hunfred?" I ask after a time.

"I believe you care for her," he replies, "And if you care for her, you would wish her joy."

"I do," I retort, unwilling to be lectured, "I wish her all the joy in the world."

"Then would you tell me why so I might at least reason with her?"

"I will tell you why so you might leave her in peace," I snap, angered at the presumption that this man has, that he could somehow bring her joy that I could not. "Her father was slain in battle and her grieving mother lost her will to fight. Brithwyn's childhood was all too brief."

"I know this. But I understand not what that has to do with it," Hunfred muses,

"She will not let herself be made a widow to war." I glance at him firmly. "And no one can sway Brithwyn's stubborn spirit, not even you."

I see a muscle work in his jaw. "I see," he murmurs, although not to me, and with that he says no more. I nod to him, and urge my horse forward under the pretense of seeking out Éomer. But no sooner am I abreast with him when we hear a shout. One of our trackers has caught wind of the party of orcs we seek to destroy. So the time for thoughts of women and marriage has ended. It is time to do our work. It will be hard, and dangerous, and bloody. And for once, I am glad of it.