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Nethwador
On his right, Echo cantered steadily. The horse lacked the resolve Nethwador was used to seeing in him; his ears flicked, his eyes wandered. But he followed Erebemlin's mount, with an occasional glance at Nethwador's lanky chestnut. Mellonin now rode with Mellondu, and Echo proved worthy for the task this afternoon at least. It remained to be seen whether a longer journey would tire him. Mellonin clung to her brother's back, sometimes burying her face in his cloak. Her riding skills were minimal. She was surprised by Mellondu's easy seat. However she might slip or slide, Mellondu firmly anchored her to Echo's back.
Mellondu knew, however, that while he sat well enough, he had little idea how to guide the horse. Amroth had always done so. And by now, Echo was little used to rein or heel. He would ask Ędegard, he decided; the fellow was kind enough.
To Nethwador's left, Bella rode easily. He smiled at her often. Sometimes she smiled back; once she winked at him. His heart bounded, and he winked back. She blushed.
If ony they could have remained with Marigold; to have a mother and a wife, both... he sighed. And then he shook himself. Wife? Bella was not his wife yet. What would he need to do, to gain her as his wife? With the Wayfarers, there had been rules; the Rohirrim had different rules, and the Gondorians had other rules still. Which rules would she expect him to abide by?
And even if he metthe demands, would she accept him then? What of her own heart? Time enough to think of that later. He missed Amroth's presence. But Taitheneb was kind, and had helped him in the past. Perhaps he would help Nethwador again.
For now he enjoyed the snowy ride, away from the Merlocks, the swamp, and dear Marigold. He looked ahead to the rolling hills of Gondor, now sparkling white, and wondered what the next day would bring.
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