Chapter 38
"Wargs! We're under attack!" Aragorn called frantically to her as he ran to find Hasufel.
Théadain felt her blood run cold at his words. She had been afraid of an attack, perhaps by orcs or at worst, Uruk-Hai. Wargs were another terror altogether.
Around her, she heard her people begin to scream and panic, frantically searching for an escape. She wheeled Folca around, calling out for her riders, summoning her company to her.
"Rohirrim!" She cried, seeing those she had scattered around the column respond to her call, "All riders to the head of the column, spears and swords drawn!" Her voice rang out clear over the sounds of the cries of fear, but behind her she could already hear the yelping and barking of their foes.
"Eowyn!" She called as she watched her cousin turn from speaking with her father, "You have your sword?"
"The king has commanded me to lead them away from the fight." The blonde woman called bitterly, gesturing to where her sword was sheathed on her saddle.
"Ride with your sword drawn, you are the column's only defence." She breathed, reaching to draw her own sword, "If one slips through our defences, you are their protection, Éowyn." She knew her cousin had the heart of a warrior, and skill with a blade, but in this moment, their people needed her to lead them.
She pulled Folca to turn, catching Aragorn's eye as he pulled himself into Hasufel's saddle, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring nod as she urged her horse on, over the crest of the hill that separated her from battle.
The sight that met her eyes made her stomach threaten to empty its contents, not the near fifty wargs and riders that bore down on them, but the sight of the fallen rider and horse that lay dead near where Legolas stood drawing back his bowstring to fire on their enemies. She choked on her cry of rage as she recognised the still form of Háma lying in the grass, gripping her sword tighter as she spurred Folca on towards her snarling enemy.
They clashed in a flurry of fur and steel, screeches and battle cries ringing out through the air as both cavalries met. Spears adorned with the banners of Rohan were thrown, riders were knocked from their horses by the sheer brute force of their foes. Amidst the fray, Théadain fought for her life.
This was why she feared wargs above all other attacks that could have befallen them. As soon as she cut down a rider, the beast beneath the orc would turn on her. Whilst the Rohirrim could boast a greater number of riders, their mounts left them disadvantaged. Around her the cries of men rang in her ears as they fought, desperately trying to bring down the wolf-like creatures that the orcs rode.
As she drew up Folca with one hand to survey her surroundings, her sword dripping black blood as she held it aloft, her eyes locked on a riderless warg that prowled the perimeter of the fight. She witnessed the moment it set its sights on her, a cry of defiance leaving her lips as she rode hard towards it. As it bounded towards her, muscular legs preparing to leap, she ducked low in her saddle, thrusting her sword up to meet its thick neck as the creature lunged at her, a growl of satisfaction following her cry as she saw it fall to the ground behind her.
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Rain on the Mountain | Aragorn | The Lord of the Rings
FanfictionHow did it come to this? Loyal to her family, her lands and her people, Théadain, the illegitimate daughter of Théoden, King of Rohan, has little concern for the world that lies beyond her familiar grasslands. When all that she loves is threatened...