Shadows fall and darkness stretches over Rohan, its reach growing longer still. The free and proud people of the Mark face enemies from the East, from the West and from the South. Orcs, Uruks, Dunlendings, and even a hidden and secret one, the great Enemy of Middle-earth is trying to break their spirit, their will to fight, long before his armies come forward. Darkness is on the move, but its victory is not granted yet, and the brave and strong people of Rohan may help change the course of the history of Middle-earth one day.
ALDBURG, ROHAN 5 January T.A. 3011
A woman stands outside of a house in the hills of the Eastfold, looking out over the forests and the snow-covered mountains in the distance. Léofwine's absence from her life was painful, but for the sake of her son she knew she had to be strong. Mearhe looked down towards the stables, and could still see a vision of him returning from Edoras, waving with a smile.
A gust of cold wind brought her back from visions and memories. Léofwine was dead, he was gone, reality and morning dawned with the pale brightness of the winter sun. The forest was quiet with only the soft sounds, the occasional tree squirrel searching for nuts, the wind blowing through the leafless branches. Mearhe stood there, holding her infant son wrapped in a blanket. She felt Léofwine within her soul, calling to her name. Then anger replaced her sorrow. A quiet rage began to take hold. Suddenly a vision of an orc began to form in her mind....
"How long have you been chasing me? Do I now haunt your dreams? Do I wish to lay with me? (laugh) You remember him...? (shows her a severed head) Léofwine (spits on the ground). The head of a coward, son of a Rohan whore. Ah, how I enjoyed cutting him open to see his entrails slip out like slippery worms. Few things would please me more than to kill you and your son in the same way. Come and find your glorious death if you must, and I shall grant your wish perhaps ( licks the blade of a sword covered in blood ) I can promise you suffering and humiliation until Mearhe is no more and your name is dead and forgotten to this world!"
Mearhe would not betray the memory of Léofwine by choosing the easiest path of forgiveness. Instinctively she knew that darkness and evil should not be left unchallenged. Her honor, and that of her husband and of the people of Rohan would not be stained by cowardice. She would learn to fight, and end the life of the vile creature that had taken away her dreams. Death was probably awaiting, but at least Léofara would grow up knowing his parents had died with honor defending all that is good in this world.
The frozen wind from the mountain mercifully brought her back from her visions. Mearhe took a deep breath as peaceful resolution began to replace her anger. She felt the forests and her land were trying to comfort her - understanding what she had lost, they were trying to make her whole.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards, listening to the soft music of the top branches swaying in the wind. A woman of Rohan, sad but not defeated, clear eyed and beautiful, the breeze playing with the silver and gold glory of her hair. "Woman! What grief, what loss brings you here?" Mearhe glanced at her child and smiled.
" Let it be a brave new life, let it bring honor to your father. And when we die, it shall be upon the fertile earth of the Mark, blessed by the fresh summer rain, and soft winter snow, before we join Léofwine in the Halls of our Ancestors."
