[Frodess]

Yanithë was still shaken up by the incident. Suddenly she felt vulnerable and useless. The terrors of Caradhras were soon lost on her. She lie on the cold ground with only her cloak for warmth.

"I love you," said he. "I want to take you for my wife. I know we will be so happy." Yes, the same things the courting male always said to his lover.

"I love you as well. More than anything in this shieldmaiden's life. But my parents. You know how they are against it. . ."

"We'll run away!" he had cried. "Yes! We'll run far from here. Our horses can take us far. We'll go live with the Elves, or in Gondor."

She had thought of it. In fact, she even packed her belongings. But her father found out. Unhappy was he to say the least. He towered over her, with an aristocratic air about him. It seemed like the stories her mother had told her about the King Théoden.

"Never will you see him again! The fool is beneath you! How dare you defy your father! And your mother! What would she think. Running off with some peasant such as he!"

And so she ran away from Rohan and the Riders of the Mark. That was the end. Never did they run away together. But, at the stream, she had had that one last hope. That hope that, well, she knew not.

I care not.

So she lie, unsleeping, and never lonelier in her life.

[ March 29, 2003: Message edited by: Frodess ]