Title: Halla the Huntress

Author: ontuva

Beta: Not betaed, so if you see any mistakes, please, let me know :)

Warnings: Nothing too bad here. No M stuff. T maybe.

Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters or Middle-Earth. I don't get any money from writing this, I'm just doing this for my own fun. :) Everything you recognise is from the hand of mr. Tolkien. I only own my OC's (meaning characters you don't regocnize. I've realized I have to make a quite lot of them, so try to bear with me.)

A/N: One reviewer! Thank you very much, reviews always make me very happy. :) Thank you, you know who you are.

And to other matters! My update rate is going to be slow (if you have read any of my other fics, you know this), but I will finish this fic. I've made clear plans to where I want to take this and what will happen (I only just have to write them!), when usually I just make stuff up when I go.

Word count: 2,003

Chapter 2: Journey

Halla woke up startled. For a while she had to tell herself that she was fine and the images of the burning house, the smoke gathering in her lungs and the pain when the flames had licked her body were only a dream. She was in Rohan. She was safe – at least for the moment. Halla let out a sight she didn't know she had been holding and tried to calm herself down.

She was doing very well until Éothain ran in and started gathering things in a hurry. Halla followed him with her gaze and before she managed to ask what was going on, Éomer rushed in too. He was tense, she could see it from his movements. She wondered if something had happened. Maybe orcs?

"Orcs are attacking a nearby settlement. If we leave right away, we might have a chance of killing them," Éomer explained and without a warning lifted Halla in his arms. She let out a yelp when she felt his strong arms holding her closely. "You are leaving to Aldburg with Éothain and Elkbard. We will catch you later on."

Halla opened her mouth to voice a protest. She didn't like to be ordered or carried around like a sack of potatoes, but one look at Éomer's face made her keep her opinions to herself. His jaw was clenched and his lips formed a thin line. She had seen that expression cross his father's features many times so she knew that any attempt to protest against his decisions would be futile. He had already made his opinion clear.

She didn't speak until it was obvious that she was to ride with Éothain on his horse. She found this out when she was sitting on top of that said horse with Éothain behind her. She didn't like the idea – first because she didn't like to think she was weak or unable to do something herself and second, because – what was going to happen to her beloved mare? She couldn't leave her here!

"What is to happen to Dustfoot?" she asked from Éomer before he was able to disappear among his soldiers. He frowned until he apparently made the connection with the unknown name to the pony grazing ground with some of the horses.

"We shall bring her when we return," he sighed. "She shall be fine, I will give you my word for it." Before Halla could give him any decent answer, he had already ordered Éothain leave and the sudden movement of the horse beneath her made her clench her teeth in pain. She had no idea how long the trip to Aldburg would be, but in her current state it would surely feel like forever.

"Does your wound bother you, milady?" she heard Éothain ask behind her. "I'm sorry we didn't have any time to make proper travel arrangements. We do have your saddle bags with us in case you need something from there. Perhaps more willow bark?"

"The pain isn't a foreign thing to me, sir," Halla answered and found herself to be surprised. She had actually said sir. Perhaps she had learned something from her nurse after all. She had insisted Halla needed to learn at least the basics of proper behaviour.

She noticed Éothain shifted uncomfortably behind her. She frowned and almost told the man to stop his wiggling until she realised that for a man and woman to be this close without being betrothed was far from "proper". Halla winced. If the whole journey was to consist of extremely uncomfortable Éothain, the sulking Elkbard, who still hadn't spoken a word, and a dull, growing pain on her side... Halla sighed. Life was indeed merry.

She glanced backwards towards the camp and saw that the men were already ready to face the orcs. Halla had seen many things in her young life, but the discipline and swiftness of rohirrim still made her look in awe. They moved as one. Even in the shadowy night she could see the helmet with the white horsetail moving among the rohirrim, commanding the men. They moved according to his every order with grace that left her wondering how many years he had been their leader.

"How often do orcs attack your settlements?" she asked, still not averting her gaze from the distancing figures. Éothain seemed puzzled by her question. Probably because he didn't expect her to care. He too glanced back before setting his eyes on the plains that seemed to go on forever.

"Too often if you ask Éomer," Éothain answered with a hint of sadness in his voice. "Usually they just steal sheep or horses, probably to feed on them, but lately... they've grown bolder. Blood has been spilled and Éomer won't stand it, but we have too little men to keep the whole East-Mark safe."

"Then it is true – the shadow has returned to the East and his orcs are regrouping," Halla whispered and felt a cold hand grip his heart. Her father had been right. Dark times were ahead of her. Instantly her hand went to the medallion on her neck, bearing the mark of her family. The familiar feeling of cold metal under her fingers calmed her a bit.

"We have no quarrel with Mordor," Éothain muttered. "And I hope it stays that way. The orcs here do not bear his mark so they are probably rogues."

"We do not wish for war," Elkbard stated his first words on the journey. "We do not fight until we have to."

"But surely that cannot mean you accept the Dark Lord's reign!" Halla cried out, astonished by the men's answers. She felt Éothain stiffen behind her and Elkbard's jaw made from stone seemed to tense even more, which she hadn't thought was even possible.

"We are not his allies," Éothain clarified, the disdain clear in his voice. "Yet we do not seek open war with him." Halla snorted.

"So you are going to just wait here until he comes for you? It is clear he has some sort of plan! I'm quite sure he doesn't stay in his dark tower in Mordor just to watch the weather change around him!" She inhaled a deep hissed breath. The wound had started hurting again. "I'm quite sure Gondor isn't just going to sit on his bottom and wait for Sauron to come and visit them!"

Both of the men were clearly uneasy, probably because deep in their hearts they knew she was right. She glared at them both. How could they think that way? Sauron had never been known for sitting idle and doing nothing!

"A woman should know her place and leave the war and the important decisions to the men. Woman's place is at the heart of the home, with the children and a barrel of mead ready for her husband," Elkbard judged after a short, but awkward silence. Halla gaped at him, her mouth open wide. She didn't just hear that. Éothain sensed the incoming storm of words and decided it was best to shift the topic of the conversation to safer areas. Like weather. Weather was always good choice.

"Quite chilly here tonight," he said with feigned interest, "coldest winter in quite some time. Are the winter's cold in where you come from, milady?" He received a glare from both Halla and Elkbard.

"Yes," Halla answered with ice tripping from her voice. "I fear I've grown tired of our conversations, so if you'll excuse me I'll start sleeping now. My previous effort was ended short." She boldly set her head to rest on Éothain's shoulder. "Good night, sirs. I hope your assess freeze."

/

/

They reached Aldburg in four days. Most of the journey they had travelled in silence, since Halla had been shifting in and out from fewer and Elkbard wasn't much of a talker. Éothain had realised that the girl, no woman, travelling with them had a sharp mind and even sharper tongue when she had been in condition to speak. Elkbard had been in the receiving end of many of her jests and taunting. He had never answered to her, probably realising it would only add fuel to the fire burning, but everytime Halla opened her mouth his jaw clenched and a throbbing vein appeared on his forehead.

"I think we need to see the healers first," Éothain said to Elkbard and shifted Halla to a better position in his lap. She had been sleeping for most of the day and Éothain was quite sure her fever was rising again. Elkbard had refused to take the her with him, so Éothain had ridden the whole journey with her. Luckily she didn't weigh much.

"I'm not sure they have a cure for her condition," Elkbard muttered under his breath and gazed at her. "What she really needs is a firm husband and discipline. Did you hear what she called me most of the time?" Elkbard shook his head in amazement. "No wonder the orc tried to kill her. Do you think she taunted it too?"

"You mean called it a stinky woman beating brute? I can see that happening," Éothain answered with a hint of a smile in his lips. Elkbard glared him and Éothain felt a boyish smile appear on his face.

"You are hopeless. Wilda will have your nutsacks in her firm grip no time and you won't even realise it!" Elkbard announced and urged his steed forward. Éothain paled. Wilda. He had not been giving her a lot of thought lately, mostly because he was occupied on checking constantly on Halla's condition. How on Arda would she react to him arriving to city with a woman on his lap? He gulped. This would not end well.

"Elkbard!" Éothain yelled after him in desperation. He received a curious glare from ahead him. "You need to take lady Halla! I can't ride in front of Wilda with a foreign woman with me!" If Éothain had not been panicking, he might've thought the look on Elkbard's usually stern face beyond comical. He stared at him in utter confusion until the reality of the situation started to sink in.

"No!" he said. "No! No, no, no, no! I'm not doing it. I'm not. What did I say to you about your nutsacks a while ago? See, Wilda already has them! I'm not taking Halla!"

"But she's sleeping, she won't notice! Just take her to the healers. That's all we need to do! It isn't even a long journey. Look, we can already see the town from here!" Éothain was beyond desperate. Wilda had always been very possessive of him, even more after they had been engaged to each other. No good would come of the situation - unless Elkbard would help him.

A series of emotions crossed his friend's face until he came to a conclusion. Elkbard sighed in defeat and Éothain felt a surge of relief coming from his own heart. Wilda would not castrate him, at least not today.

"You owe me," Elkbard stated sternly. He clearly was not happy about this. Elkbard had developed a big distaste for Halla and her manners during the few days they had spent together. Éothain was quite sure the feeling was mutual. "And I'm not staying with the healers."

"You don't have to," Éothain promised. Elkbard groaned, probably not believing him while lifting Halla's frame to his saddle. She moaned a bit in his sleep and let out a series of words neither of them understood.

"Great, now she's cursing probably me in language I don't even understand," Elkbard muttered. "You owe me, Éothain. More than one pint of mead, I might add."

"And you have saved my life, my dear friend."

/

/

A/N: Halla's name is actually Finnish which basically means frost. I think it fits since mr. Tolkien used a lot of Finnish mytology and Finnish language as a base for his stories. What are your opinions? Like it, not like it? Let me know!