When I was a child, I recall a festival. Our guardians would awake us early in the morning with new dresses on the end of our beds, they had sown with care and each of us were given a crown of wildflowers. The smell of fresh pastries filled the air and floral wreaths were strewn from one corner to the next, bringing colour to our homestead. We ourselves the night before would help in decorating, crafting banners and wreaths, joined together by ribbon and where we had plenty spare, we tied it wherever there was space, permitted even to douse our hands in paint and leave our marking on the stone courtyard, which Gora as our leader allowed access to with the hall doors flung wide open and to remain that way, so we could drift from inside to out, at our leisure. Activities differed from spot to spot, while some shield maids beat a rhythm to a drum as we joined in circles to dance, then there was storytelling and re-enactment, archery, marbles and horseshoe throwing…

Mead flowed for the older shield maids, they challenged each other in tug-O-war, wrestling and dice. Then they mounted their steeds, having us girls line the battlements to watch as out on the fields they rode wildly, showing off their skills and techniques, synchronising by riding in circles or leaping over obstacles. Then slowly as the night drew in, great pyres were lit and we sang united as one, slowly drifting off to sleep with full bellies and joyful hearts.

The spirit that day had instilled in me, the happiness and lightness, the freedom to believe that I could lift my hand and capture a star in its palm. Nothing seemed impossible. The world seemed good and pure…

Whenever I looked at merry and pippin, I was kept reminded of that day, two souls filled with cheer left unspoilt. It was strangely admirable, that they had not hardened with the trials of life or invoked a hastened maturity and I found I could not help but smile around them.

There was enough seriousness in the company, myself included, surely it would do no harm to let them be our spark of wit to boost morale as we all had our part to play.

I had slowed down my stride to keep in line with the duo, we lingering at the back as the two hobbits were inquisitive over my life as a female warrior, as they had not seemed to hear of such a thing before.

I made it my point to rectify that notion. Over the hours of our travelling, I had simplified our history the best I could and they both made for a good audience, surprisingly patient and quiet in order to listen carefully, asking questions when appropriate until I dwindled on what else to share with them.

It didn't matter, they had drunk their fill of my story telling, with a pause for thought and deliberation as I watched pippin scrunch his face in the end and declare loudly, "so…you're to tell me that somewhere in Rohan, there is a castle, home to only women, whose only goal is to show off that they are better than men?"

I should have taken offence that was the only summary he could conjure when I had gone at great lengths to make them grasp the whole picture of who the shieldmaids were, but I was saved the effort, when his golden headed counterpart swatted his friend sharply, "pippin! Clyro means much more than that! Weren't you listening at all, to our lady?!"

I winced at the unfavoured term 'lady', being a good fighter didn't grant titles and not even as the shieldmaids leader now can I be mistakenly called it. I even questioned on our long walk whether I still was classed as a shieldmaid without belonging to a banner now, as I had forsaken it, without hope of returning to Clyro without causing an uproar. I was merely Sonya and that put into question…who was she without the shield and sword?

So much of my identity was crafted in being a shieldmaid from such an early age, it was hard to remember anything before. My memory had always been scarce up to my arrival at Clyro no more than three or four years old I am told, which was an estimate as I could walk and summon some words. Perhaps, if not for my tender age, I saw some trauma that made me purposely forget in order to survive, a blow to the head maybe. Whatever it was, I could say nothing of my parentage, or of any other home or family given to me. I had never cared to ask before either, because it would not have changed anything. It still wouldn't really, but for once I was starting to realise, how maybe it would be nice to belong somewhere and to someone…

"indeed, the women of Clyro are legendary."

The tone caught my ear. You had to be quick to catch it, as he spoke in a whisper most times, to use in trying to remain hidden from attention and as ranger, perhaps lacking in company to practice having a natural conversation. Yet, he had a gift for speech. So fluid in his words and in language, for I had not missed his ability to speak in the elvish tongue back in Rivendell and the passion he invoked when he pledged himself to defending the ringbearer. It told me he need not say much to make an impression. Already the hobbits gazed at him in wonder when there was nothing else extraordinary about him on his person, he was more a man of action, which picked at my curiosity as to when their story began with Aragorn.

Keeping up with us, we were now a line of four, but not much a barrier to those behind us, who counted as the dwarve, Boromir and Sam, as the wizard and Frodo trudged on before us, with the hobbits not taking up much room, to make for easy passing if they so wished and tired of our pace.

As such, Aragorn continued, "they are not a rival you would want to cross on the battlefield. Their enemy is whoever stands in their way. smaller, quicker, agile and filled with fury. Their presence is announced by the ringing of steel and battering of shields. Is it not said they are mistresses of thunder and lightning?"

It was not a saying I had heard in some time, and my smile showed its truth because even I held high admiration for the women who created such a fierce reputation, as the glint of their swords was the lightening and banging of their shields the thunder. We aspired to be an intimidating force and if memory still stirred supporting that notion to this day, it was a goal well met. However, it has been a long time since it has been witnessed by those able to tell the tale, for I doubt an orc would "the shieldmaids have not engaged in combat with an ally in decades. How do you know this?"

He did not look in my direction, his eyes were often somewhat distant, misted over by a preoccupied mind, that was not uncommon in most here, save for maybe the dwarve who was too caught in the present just to chatter us to death by how great his race were compared to others and not just to annoy the elf. There were layers to Aragorn that told me he had more experience under his belt than what he let on.

Eventually he admitted, "the wars of king Thengel. That was the time you refer to in your storytelling, where the shieldmaids last had affiliation with anyone."

It sparked new excitement in the hobbits who nipped at my heels again for details, "why, what happened?"

The ranger was not wrong, which was curious, because why would he care to have this knowledge. I can't think of a soul outside of Rohan who would want to know. Middle-earth was much divided this way. unless the issue pressed at each other's doors, the rule was not to intervene. Yet look at us now and how we were trying to prove it is a custom which must change, unite in order to achieve victory against a wild and dangerous foe. For a map is parchment for borders to be drawn but the actual land itself is free from one stretch to the next, which means it is collectively our home and we stand together to defend it from those who would blacken its sky and reduce the earth to ash.

Again, I got carried away and returned to the history of my sisters.

"after his father's rule, Rohan was in the midst of civil war, as the old king Thengel had turned brother against brother, in the conflict of staying true to the crown and desiring equality, as he oppressed the land with taxes, refused to offer help during famine, plague and stole young lads from their homes, predicting uproar and wanting an army to defend himself with. For years, it was even dangerous to venture out within our own homeland, as a desperate people were willing to do anything in order to survive while Thengel let them suffer with one difficulty after another from the safety of his throne."

"and…what happened next Sonya?" Merry inquired, he seeming to have a keen interest in Rohan for some reason, judging by his enthusiasm and willingness to overlook Clyro being just a house of men-hating women like pippin.

I don't know why I had shared so much. maybe to keep my sisters close by talking about them, much like Gimli did with his own kin. Making me rethink my rashness to be so judgemental at his incessant gruff voice filling the air. he was homesick, like me and everyone else here, with the exception of the wandering wizard and for now, it was so far out of reach. We must keep our heart's and spirits warmed by that which we held dear.

"…the young prince pleaded with the shieldmaids to join him when he returned to succeed his father. we at the time had never sworn loyalty to a sovereign, hoping that by having us with him, it would prove his righteousness and sway the others to yield and rebuild. Even promising that a daughter of his blood would be given to train by our side, so our relationship with the crown would remain strong. With the kingdom in such a ruin we accepted his offer, putting our differences aside for the good of the realm. but it was no easy thing. battle broke out to gain the new king his crown, those who let themselves fall to selfish desires, refused to give away the power they had gained and it often came with the cost of casting someone else down a broken path to get it. eventually, the bad was cleansed like poison drawn out from a wound. However, when the new king was coronated, we shieldmaids heard no mention of our names in gratitude. Earldoms were given and recognition to sit on the king's council…yet we remained outcasts. Seems the word of a man was still worth more than a woman's voice. We never forgave that insult."

And it remains an ongoing grudge that even in my rule I had no intention in healing. Refusing all invite to Edoras or extending an invitation myself to the king, to meet with the second army within his kingdom that he had absolutely no governance over. In fact, the idea of it causing nervousness was delicious, a thorn in his side we twisted through our lack of communication. If we excluded the humiliation of the net incident, finding his heir and nephew on our grounds, would have been more intense of not for my folly ruining it. I got a punch but there was so much more I would have liked to have done to make an impact to assert my authority and emphasise that bad blood shared. The first leader to have contact with the monarchy and I went and got suspended from a tree by their doing.

My cheeks glowed from the embarrassment, a girlish trait I hated myself for and thought better hardened from such behaviour, yet it had slipped in and if I were honest…

Looking behind us, Boromir was staring intently at me and I quickly snapped my head back waiting for the inevitable, which was the fluttering feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I was getting soft without my cloak to instil hostility with its beastly and intimidating craftmanship, I decided.

"that isn't fair! You deserved recognition same as the others, if not more since you were the first to join him."

Merry's claim would be hailed as golden if we were currently in the halls of Clyro, as that was precisely our belief, which was justified. But I shrugged remembering an added detail Gora shared with me, one drunken night and I clasped merry's shoulder to pass it on, knowing that if he thought himself privy to it, he would have a certain skip to his step to taunt pippin with, which would be my revenge for his indifference over my people.

"truth be told, I don't know if it was so much wounded pride that severed our ties with the monarchy…more a wounded heart. Rumour has it the leader at that time, did indeed return to Clyro with a daughter of king's blood; they were just growing in her belly. A secret between us."

My plan worked and he marched off like the cat who had the cream. I chuckled, watching them catch up with Frodo and wizard for a change of company, which left me with Aragorn. We were silent at first, but without a keen audience, he wasn't going to give up much more information about himself, so I broke the mystery that shrouded him as Legolas had done before me during the meeting, having ensnared a fact he might not have guessed I would have picked up on.

"do not think I missed what you alluded to earlier," our steps were in synch, so I did not need to speak much louder than I would normally for him to hear me, while others around us would struggle, "You fought in the wars of Thengel…and without pointed ears… my guess is you are one of the dunedein then?"

It explained his whole character, the reservedness not unlike the elves. He had lived far longer than any other man, seen much more and learnt to carry on, as the world changes and he remains just as himself. Still in all that time, for the dunedein lived far longer, he had never reclaimed his crown. What was it that repelled him from it, I wondered?

I sensed his unease at my discovery, that moment of amusement shared with the hobbits taken from him, as Aragorn's face went back to its solemn expression.

Secrets were futile, they are leverage to those privy to them and destined to be revealed sooner or later if they mattered, and you let people in close enough for your own slip of the tongue to reveal them.

Sympathetically, I chuckled at his misfortune and patted his arm, "what, did you not expect to go from the comfort of a mere ranger, to king and dunedein during this expedition and all within a couple of days?"

He groaned in response as I carried on, "really you wore the mystery well. when I first saw you, I would never have guessed. Now it has all unravelled. That was probably their plan of course, the elf Elrond and not to mention the wizards. Their kind enjoy to meddle and call it wisdom and guidance which we must abide to, as simpler folk."

As if the old goat could hear me, Gandalf turned his face so that his bearded chin rested on his shoulder and beneath his wired brows, I found myself branded by his gaze. It was a lost cause if he aimed to intimidate me by it. I refused to be one of his puppets, whose strings he could trifle with and watch the rippling effect unfold while he took a back seat and intervened only when he wished, to seem heroic if that was the right word for meddler these days.

I would remain cautious around him, as he carried a reputation Gora warned me about and from sharing the same space as the wizard, I had to agree with her wariness. Still, I struggled to think of a situation where he would want to intervene with a child's life, since that was when we had met before. Indeed, I think we all here have some link with the wizard, so sooner or later, I expect my turn will come for my strings to be plucked by his hands at some point.

I pitied Aragorn, that his life was the concern of so many others. a simple ranger must have been a life of bliss, where he could live on his own terms. It made me wonder why he agreed to come out from the shadows, but it all came back to my own revelation. None here must have had a choice, that it was either life or death and we couldn't stand idly by and do nothing. Not when we were fully aware that the sake of the world, was hanging from a chain around a young hobbits neck.

"…I don't envy you. I Chose to lead, to take that responsibility no matter my reasons. You on the other hand, likely have been told it was a destiny you cannot escape. The throne yours to take because you were born to rule, after it has been shrouded with little faith due to the actions of your predecessor. Hardly inspiring I grant you…Must be a daunting aspect."

Aragorn did nothing to fill his end of the conversation, he just listened as I babbled on, my thoughts leading me to address one thing then the next when they popped into my mind. I think I liked the fact he was willing to be silent, used to not speaking to a soul for months on end likely, a habit he was slow to shake off until he had become comfortable enough with someone. Any other man would have worn his arrogance like armour if they were the secret heir to Gondor. It was refreshing to have someone so humble regarding their fate, for I have met royalty before and not been the biggest supporter of those who wear a crown.

in his worn clothes, ragged boots and dirty nails, he seemed as far away from a king as a farmer manning the fields, yet whether it was because I knew now or not, it was impossible not to respect him for I felt the tethers emanating out from him that tingled with greatness…

I shrugged, "look, it makes no difference to me, your titles and bloodline. I shall accept you as Aragorn if you would only take me as Sonya. What you do with your name is up to you, same as I. but I reckon by the devotion you showed Mr Baggins, you are a good man. I was harsh back in Rivendell, I know, it's just…"

Aragorn finally interjected, a soft smile showing on his rugged face that was charming and almost bashful as a curtain of hair fell to cover it from me, "I'd expect nothing less from a shieldmaid of Rohan. just be careful with Frodo. He carries a heavy burden, sensitive to his own self-doubt never mind other's."

I stared at the hobbit in question. since we began, Frodo's steps have gotten heavier with the burden sinking him lower, that he must now lift his knees ever higher to make progress, which meant a greater distance made between him and his shire. The further you got from what you were fighting for, it makes it harder to remember it exists, like it's some cruel dream to taunt your efforts as you keep moving forwards, hoping it is as sweet as you remember if you ever return. but as you take in more darkness, soon, the taste for all things good, becomes spoiled and it gets hard to see the point in carrying on, because it is tiresome, to make your feet physically move all the while, that dream lingers in the back if you're mind, no longer motivation but almost a mockery of your pain, for it would be easier to let go and stop if you hadn't known it was there, depending on you.

Frodo must endure, we all here had to make him endure, but you cannot saddle a broken horse and there was truly nothing I could do for him, except as Aragorn says, be a figure of encouragement rather than doubt.

I held back, watching Aragorn trod onwards without me, but I was not long without company again, "what were you two whispering about?"

Whispering implied that I was hiding something, which wasn't the case at all, private maybe, as it concerned matters not about myself, but if anyone crept up on us while I was talking to Aragorn, he would not have shut the conversation down I don't think. Either way, Boromir wore a sour expression on his face, which was all I needed, to know he had not approved and that irked on my nerves even more, as he had no sway on who I chose to speak with or not.

"Nothing of note that would cause the need for…whispering. But I shan't share in a topic I know leaves a bad taste in your mouth Boromir."

I remarked on the fact there was a king before us. Boromir's king. A man where there was a palpable air of distaste whenever they were near each other, and yet I have seen them share moments of comradeship. A helping hand over a rocky precipice, water, food. All given with gratitude, then he will lower his head afterwards, not in regret but not understanding why if he is capable of such consideration, Aragorn still could not seek justice and return to Gondor as their leader and boost moral where there was none, igniting the flame of their hope.

"can you imagine…I spilt all of my worries and my fears in that meeting, declaring before all how my people have suffered and sacrificed. All the while it's absentee king is in attendance. Why should I respect a man who has shown little care for his people? if he had only shown his face years ago, then-"

He was unable to finish, swallowing a lump in his throat and distracting himself from it by hoisting his shield further up his back, where it hadn't slipped an inch out of place. I realised then the cause of Boromir's anger and upset, that the other's questioned, as they all seemed to flock towards Aragorn like a messiah. that could not help matters for Boromir, he who should be at the frontline of it all welcoming him in with open arms, but could not for his own personal reasons, as the steward's son.

Again, this pull drew my hand into his, even through the hard leather gloves we wore to keep out the cold, which clung to the mountains the higher we climbed. It was subtle, nothing to make brows raise, just a reminder for him, that I was here to listen and to look beyond judgment.

I smiled, finishing where he had left off, "-then your life would be very different. it's alright to admit that it can be overwhelming. To want to scream and runaway after constantly dedicating yourself to others. dare I say, this quest by parting me from all I have ever known, it has set in motion me getting to know myself again, if I ever did before-"

In fact, I could feel the difference already, that even though I have committed myself in trying to save the world for those I loved, my shoulders weren't heavy with burden as a leader's would be. My friends, my sisters, they were figures at a distance I peered across the land in wonder of, but they had someone new to care for them day to day, someone I trusted, which gave me the freedom to look away and instead ahead of my own path, which laid unknown before me. no voices filled my ears with advice, or suggestion on what I must do or say or act…this was all me. Sonya of Rohan, who with blade and shield, must carry herself forwards with only her own mind to guide her, without selfish ambition to drive her for once.

"-Aragorn is not exempt from this. none of us are, for we shan't return the same people as we were when we first left Rivendell. and it's alright, you can like the man without approving of his actions. From what I gather, he is none too proud of them himself. Be assertive if you must, to make it transparent just how his absence has affected Gondor, but show you are a friend who is willing to stand by his side too to right those wrongs. A friend is the greatest ally a would be king can have."

The lines on his face softened. Boromir wasn't a man who did not listen to reason, or value the words of others. He was just met by this expectation to be someone great for his people which can be a lonely feeling and frightening. that's where his proclaim to take the ring to Gondor came from. It seemed like an easy fix, a forceful one, made by someone else through him I'd wager, otherwise we would not have heard the end of it and his treatment of us would have been with scorn. Yet he has smiled and shared kindness as well as laughter with some, mainly the hobbits, none slept with unease with him near, less he slipped away with Frodo under his arm.

Boromir was honourable. He respected the decision made by the council and I…

(Damn it all, if my cheeks did not flush under the stare of his blue eyes)

I believed in him.