It was usually Éowyn who stood on the terrace of Meduseld, staring out over Edoras and the valley beyond, deep in thought. Normally, Hilde might have considered her unintentional mimicry of her friend amusing, but she was in no such mood.

Her thoughts were in turmoil. Could it have only been the night before that she, Éomer and all of Edoras had celebrated their hard-won victory? Already so much seemed to have changed. From where she stood she had watched as the White Rider had departed Edoras for Minas Tirith, one of the halflings riding with him. It had come as a small relief; at least Gondor would know how close they were to war. She could not believe Théoden would shy away from battle in the way he was. It was petty, the way he had spoken of ignoring Gondor because they had not come to aid Rohan. She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice when the King himself joined her.

"I hear you and Éomer plan to be wed," he said quietly, startling Hilde from her trance. Éomer must have told him. The shieldmaiden whirled to face him, not sure what to expect in his face. It was hard to read what he felt in that moment, though she could pick out a shadow of approval, as well as sorrow. She nodded her confirmation. A faint pleased smile came to his face.

"It would seem that you are destined to become Queen of Rohan, Hilde. At one time I believed you would marry my son, and now you are to be joined with my nephew, who is—who is now to be King once I am gone." He hesitated a little, struggling for a moment with admitting that Éomer, and not Théodred, was to be the next King. He cleared his throat before continuing. "I must confess that such news does not surprise me, nor does it displease me. I have noticed your affection for each other for a long time now. That you have decided to marry pleases me. Éomer is a good man. I am sure your father would approve. He would be happy for you," he finished gently. A faint smile of her own had come to her lips as a he spoke.

"I must admit, I have given little thought to ever being Queen, My Lord. It was never a dream of mine. I have only ever wanted to find a man I could love to marry. And I have found that in your nephew." They stood quietly together for a few moments before Hilde decided that she had to speak her mind.

"I am sorry, My Lord, but...how can you not agree to ride to Gondor?" she said quietly, her eyes turning to search the King's face as she did. His expression shifted.

"You followed Éomer to the Hall this morning." Hilde dropped her gaze for a moment, a faint flush of shame rising to her cheeks. But she was not sorry she asked, and raised her brown eyes back to meet his. At first he didn't say anything, turning to look out over the expanse that surrounded Edoras.

"Gondor will not fall, Hilde. Lord Denethor will guard his City to the last. He will not let it fall." Hilde stared at him with incredulous dismay.

"That is no guarantee. What happens if it does fall, what then? What happens when the legions of Mordor come knocking at the gates of Edoras? My Lord, we barely survived the Battle of Helm's Deep, and we had the Rohirrim to ride in and save us at the last. We had the elves come to our aid. There is nothing between Mordor and The Mark save Gondor. Should Minas Tirith fall Mordor's forces will only move west. The Dark Lord will not ignore us. Every whisper I have heard says that as compared to the army that grows in Mordor, Isengard's forces were nothing. Sauron has his armies of orcs, the Nazgul; it is whispered that he has Haradrim allies, Corsairs. Should Gondor fall we will be left to face the might of Mordor alone. They will rip through the Riddermark and crush us. There will be no Rohirrim to ride in as we lay surrounded, no elves. We will be alone, and then we will fall. And then there will be no one left.

"And then the darkness will have won," she finished quietly, unintentional despair colouring her tone. She hadn't thought such a speech was in her, but it had all poured out before she could stop it. Théoden looked to her then, his expression guarded despite the riot of emotions in his eyes. Silently he turned to walk away.

"We cannot let them stand alone," she pleaded, trying one last time. Théoden hesitated as she spoke, nearly turning back to face her, before striding into the Hall. Tears of defeat prickled in her eyes, but she would not let them fall. She turned, watching her King retreat back into the Golden Hall, brushing past Éomer as he disappeared into the shadowed entrance. As his uncle passed, Éomer's brow creased into a frown, his gaze questioning her silently when he turned to Hilde. She could only shake her head in frustrated response, turning back to the vista before her.

After a moment she heard Éomer come to stand beside her, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. With a heavy sigh she leaned into him.

"Marry me, Hilde," his quiet voice was thoughtful as it broke the silence. She turned to face him, a faint playful smile on her lips.

"I thought we had already agreed to that?" Her smile faded a little at the serious expression on his face. "What is it?" He drew in a deep breath, obviously debating the right way to say what he meant. His hands came up to rest on her arms, his thumbs brushing against her shoulders. A faint shiver went through her at the sensation. Instinctively her own hands rose to rest on his arms, her fingers gripping the fabric of his tunic.

"War is coming, Hilde. My uncle will come around. The Rohirrim will ride to Gondor. But many won't come back...I want you to be my wife, that I may at least have had some time as your husband..." What he didn't say hung between them, but she knew exactly what he meant; if the worst should happen. Hilde felt all the blood leave her face. It was a fear that had been growing in her belly since Gandalf had first spoken of Gondor's danger.

"You will come back, Éomer." Inwardly she marvelled at how confident she sounded, how sure. A corner of his mouth quirked up. Leaning forward he placed a quick kiss against her hairline before resting his forehead against hers. One of his hands came to cup her cheek.

"I want to marry you before I go." She drew back a little, firmly meeting his gaze. His brow furrowed again as he realized what that look meant. He cut her off even as her mouth parted to speak.

"Hilde, no. You can't ride with us." A stubborn light appeared in her eyes, and Éomer didn't miss the flicker of resentment she pushed aside.

"Why not, you know as well as I that I can fight. I held my own at Helm's Deep, you know I did. You know I am more than capable." But he was shaking his head, his fingers tightening painfully on her arm as a flash of panic appeared for a split second on his face. It was enough to startle Hilde from the anger growing in her chest.

"No, love. I don't want you on that battlefield. I need to know you are here, safe. I couldn't bear—" his mouth snapped shut, trapping his fear behind his teeth before he could say it aloud. Hilde sighed. She knew she couldn't deny him this when it obviously distressed him so. But she still couldn't quite let it go so easily.

"Would you stay behind if I asked?" she said quietly, her own fear threading through her voice. A sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh escaped his throat.

"If it were just my honour, were it any other battle, Hilde, for you I might. But we both know why I must go." A sigh escaped her then; she didn't want to fight him. She took a step forward into the circle of his arms, her hand rising to cup his own cheek as she looked into his dark green eyes.

"Then I will marry you before you go, but only if you promise to come back when the fighting is done." His breath shook with barely suppressed relief as he exhaled, his arms tightening around her.

***

While Hilde's father had been the Doorward of Meduseld and a Captain of the King's Guard, her mother Eagyd had been one of the ones to run the Golden Hall, helping oversee food supplies, labour management, and to provide guidance and oversight to the many intricate parts that kept the King's Hall running; a administrator of sorts, one could say. Quite often she had taken up the tasks and responsibilities usually reserved for the Queen of the Mark; of course, since Théoden had not remarried after his wife Elfhild died birthing their son, the Golden Hall had no queen.

Though she was not terribly fond of such things, when she had been old enough, Hilde had taken a place in the court very similar to her mother's role, having learned a little about some of the roles at Eagyd's side. Similarly, Éowyn had also been taken under Eagyd's wing, learning alongside Hilde for a short time. Many of the Queen's duties had ultimately fallen to Éowyn, being the King's only female relation, but Hilde had taken on some of them as well over the years given that her mother had done so and had been teaching Hilde to do so before she had died.

So it was that on her first morning as a wife, Hilde found herself tending to some of the duties she had been looking to for years already. She sat in the Great Hall with the stewards and keepers of the Hall, going over supply lists and discussing general upkeep. In some respects, it was a lucky thing that she had already held such responsibilities for a time, for now that she was Éomer's wife and Éomer was set to inherit his Uncle's throne, Meduseld was going to officially be under her care in years to come. Because she had looked to many of the Queen's duties already, there really wasn't much for her to learn when it came to running the King's Hall. The Golden Hall was to have a Queen's care again, and she was going to be that Queen.

Hilde still couldn't quite believe it. It had been less than a week since Éomer had asked that they marry before things were decided about Rohan's place in the coming war. The Victory Feast had only been the day before that. When dawn came on this day, she had woken beside her husband, still not quite believing that it was more than a dream. The King had been startled when they had approached him about arranging a quick, quiet ceremony but had acquiesced without reserve, though he pointed out that they might have to hold a larger celebratory feast than they could manage at present later on to mark the occasion for more political reasons. Hilde had wondered then if some of what she had said to him earlier had gotten through to him, for as they spoke, the King had been looking at her with a sort of consideration that seemed out of place with talk of weddings.

It was only yesterday that she and Éomer had been married. It had been a simple affair. Hilde had worn her best blue dress and Éowyn had woven a few snow-white simbelmynë into her vibrant hair, smiling knowingly when Hilde grew emotional at the sight of the pale flowers. It felt right, though, to be wearing the blooms of remembrance and those who were gone. To her it felt like she was carrying the memory of those who were lost with her. Very few had been present; only Éowyn, Haleth, the King and a few others they were close to in the Golden Hall had attended. Éomer had stood at her side, her fingers woven tightly with his. He had looked positively regal in his new tunic, a rich near-black green with gold and red embroidery about the collar, his long golden hair freshly brushed and tied neatly back from his face; he truly looked every inch like the next King of Rohan. Hilde had barely noticed that, though. She had been caught up instead in the intensity of the love in his eyes and the elated smile tugging at his lips. It had set her heart racing. What she had gotten on that day was all Hilde needed for her wedding. A part of her was quite happy that it was such a small event; it belonged just to them, that way.

Hilde sighed heavily, reluctantly pushing the memory aside, absently brushing her hair out of her face as she tried to reconcile the information she was being bombarded with instead...she would far rather be basking in the memory of her wedding day. The exodus to Helm's Deep and subsequent return to Edoras had severely complicated things that should have been quite easy to deal with, like the aftermath of the Victory Feast or preparing for a potential impending muster. Across the Hall Théoden was gathered with Gamling and two of his advisors, Orwold and Déyall, taking stock of the damage wreaked by Isengard and looking to defenses and strategy should Rohan face another attack. Elsewhere around the Hall, men and women went about their work, some for the Hall, some for Edoras and Rohan in general. Officials and Merchants milled about, waiting for some time with the King. Behind her she could hear Éomer speaking quietly with Éothain, his second-in-command. For some reason it helped her relax knowing he was close by. Yet even with so many people about, all was quiet.

Nearly everyone in the Hall jumped when the Main Doors opened with a thunderous crash. Eyes all over the Hall were drawn to Aragorn as he burst into the Hall, flushed and out of breath with a wild look about him.

"The Beacons of Minas Tirith!" He barreled through the Hall, shouting as he went. "The Beacons are lit!" Eyes wide as she spun to see what the commotion was about, Hilde was too stunned to even rise from her seat, her gaze flying to meet Éomer's for a split second before being drawn back to the Ranger. As Aragorn came to a sudden halt before the King, Hilde felt Éomer come to stand beside her, a hand coming to rest protectively on her shoulder.

"Gondor calls for aid," the Ranger blurted out, looking less composed than Hilde had ever seen him in the short time she'd known him. All eyes turned to the King, especially Hilde and Éomer's. Théoden's expression was guarded, his brow creasing slightly with thought. Hilde nearly forgot to breathe. The moment dragged on, the entire Hall silent as they waited on their King's response. Hilde glanced briefly around at the sound of Éowyn rushing into the Hall to stand beside her brother; she must have heard Aragorn's shouts. The two friends looked to each other for a moment before looking expectantly to Théoden. The King's gaze lifted, clearing as he met Aragorn's anxious eyes.

"And Rohan will answer." A sudden fierce resolve had appeared on Théoden's face. Nearly the entire Hall exhaled with acceptance as Théoden spoke. Hilde's own pent-up breath nearly felt like it was crushed from her chest. Relief flooded her that Rohan was not going to sit back and watch Gondor fall, but at the same time the gravity of what Théoden's proclamation meant descended on her like a great weight. Trepidation began pooling in her belly. Éomer's hand tightened on Hilde's shoulder as she reached up to cover his fingers with her own.

Across the Hall the King straightened, looking determinedly ahead as he called for a muster. As the order echoed through the hall both Hilde and Éowyn's gazes were drawn to their husband and brother. Between them, Éomer's head dipped in a sharp nod in the King's direction before he turned, sparing Hilde and his sister each a quick glance before he made his way from the Hall. His eyes were grave, Hilde couldn't help but notice as he laid a quick hand on Éowyn's shoulder as he moved past her. Reserved but pleased. It was a dark sort of relief that had flooded through the Hall, she realized with a pang. As the King's Heir strode through the doors, calling out orders as he went, Hilde stood, her eyes again meeting Éowyn's as the Hall around them burst into action. Without consciously thinking to do so, they both reached out, grasping each other's hand tightly for a measure of reassurance.

As Éowyn's eyes scanned the now bustling Hall, Hilde found her own gaze shifting to look at the King. She was startled to find he was already looking at her, a flicker of something she didn't recognize in his eyes. It was only when he discreetly nodded his head to her did she realize what it was.

Thanks.

The anxiety in Hilde's stomach churned.    

A/N: Thanks for reading!

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