Mourning for Theordred - From the eyes of another
an empty saddle, stained with the blood
of my companion.
We were the stuff of clouds and rain
like leaf and twigs
The glorious days of riding to battle,
hearing the cry of Victory for Rohan
is gone, with him
Anger I cannot explain threatens to explode.
why doesn't he visit anymore?
We have not ridden for an age
I don't understand
where has he gone?
Men try to take me away
but I must wait here for him
in the stable I've lived in all my life
What if he returns and I am not here?
I fight to wait.
But, a new voice calms me.
It speaks words of comfort
in a language that soothes, that I can't understand
but there is no time to mourn. I am set free.
Searching, I find a mound of grass
a small stone carved with
the same symbols burned onto my saddle
Wandering, away from all I've known,
days, it seems years.
Roaming to the river for a drink,
I smell him
the soothing voice.
Nudging him, he wakes up.
The voice speaks to me
I carry him onward
I will always remember Theodred
but it is time to move on