Stella, or the Nuzgul are Eating Warg Alive
2. A Reflection, part 1
We went through training together, and I convinced myself that we were just friends. When I accepted his proposal soon after my commission, it was with the grim knowledge that we might likely not ever see each other again. If husband and wife both fought in the Rohirric army, they often were separated, so that decisions like mine did not have to be made. And separated or together, we all ran the risk of dying out there. Even off the field of battle…
I admit, there were times when I fantasized about settling down on a quiet little farm and raising horses for the rest of my life. Isildur's heirs had waited for generations in the woods, after all. This would at least be a change of scenery.
But I knew it would not last. Orcs and other creatures of the dark were rising. Rumors spread of wights, and necromancy, and lights in Mordor. (Even if it weren't for all that, I know next to nothing of farming.) Our time was coming.
My time. I had hoped, imagined, deluded myself into thinking that my Boromir of Rohan would face it with me. But his time was before mine. I can accept that as a captain. The wife in me wishes she could live without this captain, but every soldier's woman has something of her husband's views on death. I would wail and mourn, but that would be later. Then and there, my men needed me. He needed me to give the order as a captain, not as a woman.
I resigned not long after that: the command so as to move along as I had planned to Gondor, and my girlish dreams for the duties of a queen. I lived as a warrior. Perhaps it seems cold to you, and heartless, that I would abandon his land and even his name for me for such ambitions. Perhaps it was. It may make no difference to you, but it was done out of love for him. My Boromir of Rohan taught me to fight, and to never give up. This spirit of his is my most important legacy of him, worth much more than the braided cuff with crow feathers worked into it.
There was never enough time for children between us. I was a Rohirric bride, and will admit that what little the men of Rohan do not do with their horses is occasionally accomplished atop these beasts, but that was too uncomfortable to maintain for very long. Once was enough to satisfy my curiousity, but not enough to suit its most basic purpose. Even without equine problems, it was difficlt to find the time and energy in a battlefield situation. Ours was not a relationship based overmuch on physical activity, although my Boromir of Rohan always found ways to make his presence known, even outside of our bed.
Our lack of children freed me to continue to fight, and being able to do something for others' children made me fight all the harder, even when dreams of my own have faded. The kings' line shall be broken, after my death. There were those that said the line was already broken, since I had been born female, and an only child. I could not have prevented my father's death, at three years of age. No matter how I wish it, I could not have prevented my husband's death. But a break in the line does not mean the end of my people. My cousin, I am sure, will derive no small amount of satisfaction at being named chieftain once I am gone.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.