Lothiriel inspected the tracks on the grassy plains.

Hoof prints she thought to herself Rohan

She mounted her steed and rode off in the direction where the Riders of Rohan had headed. She had been travelling for six days on horseback, tracking down the Rohan riders. When she was healed at an Assassin hideout, they explained of the growing darkness in the king's heart. When she asked how they knew they told her that he had banished his nephew, the heir to the throne, after his son had passed. They told her no names, however, as she need to find out herself. The king banished his most loyal subjects as well, meaning Rohan had little protection. Her mission was to find this nephew and bring him back, since war was coming.

The assassins gifted her with a young black mare to help her in her travels. She rode between some jagged rocks until she stopped to listen. She heard hoofbeats and quickly pulled her hood over her face. A group of cavalry appeared over the hilltop, heading straight towards Lothiriel. Her horse began to rear a bit, but she quickly calmed her. They encircled her before pointing their spears at her. One of the men push his way through to be at the front, most likely the leader.

"Who are you?" he asked gruffly, "And why are you trespassing on Rohan territory? Speak quickly."

Lothiriel inspected all the men, looking at their armor, their weapons, they way they held themselves on their horses.

"You must be the Riders of Rohan," Lothiriel stated, "I've been searching for you."

"Who are you?" he asked more assertively, "Reveal yourself."

Lothiriel pulled down her hood, letting loose her brown locks. Many of the men gawked, but Lothiriel's attention was only on the young man in front of her. He had not yet removed his helmet making it hard for Lothiriel to make out his face. The leader smiled as he ordered his horse to walk a bit closer.

"Shadow," he said.

Lothiriel didn't change her emotion, but just stared into his intense brown eyes. Long ago she had visit Rohan by herself and had tried to rescue a girl being abused by her father. Afterwards the man accused her of stealing to the passing soldier forcing her to flee. Her hood had been down at the time so they knew what her appearance looked like. The chase went on for days, a few times they had almost caught her.

"And you must be the prince," Lothiriel said, "The nephew of the king. I heard that you and your company were banished."

"How would you know that?" he sneered.

"Word travels fast when it's about royalty," she said, "Know if I may, what is your name?"

He hesitated for a second before answered, "Theodred."

Lothiriel chuckled, "No, that's not it, but your secrets can be yours. It's really none of my business. So where are we headed."

The spears had finally been lifted away from her, but she still kept her focus on the prince.

"We?" he asked with a raise eyebrow.

"Yes, we," she said, "I'm coming with you."

"No, I refuse."

"Listen, I'm coming with you whether you like it or not and if you try to kill me then you won't know the message I was supposed to deliver."

He surged forward on his horse, his mouth opening to speak.

She, however, beat him too it and spoke, "Oh and torture doesn't work on me."

He looked at her, fuming, but she didn't let her guard down.

He finally sighed and answered, "We ride north."

"Then what are we waiting for?" she smiled and moved her horse into a gallop.

The men followed and they rode all day. Night finally fell and they dismounted to rest at the edge of a forest. Some went to collect wood while others laid out bedrolls or tied the horses. Lothiriel gave her horse a carrot from her saddle bag, patting her neck. With each pat dust flew up from the dry weather. She spotted a deer in the corner of her eye and she slowly loaded her bow. Deer were quite rare in these parts, as they have been hunted so much. She shot, hitting her mark.

"Today must be my lucky day," She whispered to herself as she heaved the buck onto her horses back.

When she approached the camp she noticed the little food that they all had. They all fell silent when she stopped next to a few mats. She pulled off the deer and set it by the fire, cutting into it. She was aware all eyes were on her, except for the young prince who was down near the horses. She turned the meat over the fire, getting it nice and crispy. She handed some meat to a few men before others began lining up to get their share. Happy and content, they ate, chattering amongst themselves. She picked up a plate, carrying it towards the prince and bring her horse with her.

"Are you ok?" she interrupted his thoughts.

He only looked and nodded.

"I brought you some food," she said, handing over the plate.

"Thank you," he said kindly.

She tied her horse next to his, stroking her mane.

"What's her name?"

"Eldra," she answered, "She's the descendant of Daeroch, a loyal and kind horse. He saved his owner more times than you may think."

"I wouldn't doubt it," he then paused before saying, "Eomer."

"What?"

"My real name is Eomer. My cousin was Theodred. He…"

"Was ambushed by orcs?"

He looked at her surprised.

"How did you know?"

"I have my connections."

He nodded and gave Eldra a pat. She shook her head making Lothiriel smile.

"She likes you," she said.

"I apologize for seeming rude," he continued to pet Eldra, "If I didn't then…"

"It would be an act of weakness," Lothiriel interrupted, "Trust me I've been there."

He nodded, relieved she wasn't upset. He had heard stories that the great Shadow was to not be toyed with.

"I had heard the townspeople speak stories of the great Shadow," Eomer smirked, "Are they true?"

Lothiriel laughed for real.

"Only over exaggerated," she answered.

There was a loud ruckus farther down the forest edge. Lothiriel listened intently before looking at Eomer.

"Orcs," she said quietly.

They hurried back to the company, dousing the fire. Eomer quickly explained and everyone mounted their horses. They rode silently, well as silent as you can on a horse, towards the noise. It began to grow louder and they had a little into the forest, using the trees as cover. When they were close enough they galloped towards the orc pack, throwing spears and shooting arrows. The orcs howled in pain as each one fell with one last dying breath. Something small caught her eye crawling on the ground, but before she could think anymore an orc jumped her.

She tumbled off her horse, rolling on the grassy with the orc. It had its knife out, trying to stab her heart. She quickly lifted her feet and pushed him off. He landed in front of a horse and became trampled. Lothiriel quickly got to her feet, slashing at the orcs coming near her. A horse ran past her and she grabbed the rider's outstretched hand. She swung her leg up, placing her arms around his waist. She began to shoot arrow after arrow as Eomer threw each spear he picked up. Finally the only thing left were corpses. The grass had turned an ugly shade of a deep reddish purplish color, the color of orc blood. Everyone dismounted and began to pile the corpses so that they may burn. Lothiriel inspected each body, but none we're the size of a hobbit.

"What troubles you?" Eomer asked.

"I saw something," she spoke, "It was no bigger than a hobbit."

She shook her head and spoke, "My mind must be playing tricks."

He nodded, "Perhaps."

They lit torches and threw them on the bodies. Lothiriel watched them burn while all the men began to lay out their sleeping mats, falling asleep immediately. She turned from the blazing light and lay down where her horse slept. She nickered her before they both fell into a dreamless snooze.