Ride on, my husband. Ride for death and ride for glory. Ride to redeem your honor. It was never lost, in my mind, but you were ever so sensitive about these matters. Aye, I know, most would not be so bold as to call you sensitive, but a man cannot swagger all the time. Your fire has served you well in the field and in our home, but sometimes I do wish that you would not let it drive you so.
I cannot hold you back. Even if it were within my power to keep you from this battle, I would not. Our family needs a safe place to grow, and now, we must pay for our saftey in the blood of our kinsmen. I am not ashamed to see you astride that horse, your armor gleaming like that hopeless light in your eyes. But you keep no hope for yourself, so let me hope for you. You ride for death, and I shall stay behind to tend to life. It will await you, and embrace you, if you survive this war, as I do before it. As I shall always do.
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.