Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only, and all rights remain with the estate of JRR Tolkien.
The sun begins to shine as we enter Rohan; a good omen I think.
As promised an escort awaits us; but not just any escort. I see that infamous clump of horse-hair, topping the well-used helm, and realise that Éomer has come himself.
I see my daughter’s face light up as she, too, recognises her betrothed and, seeing this, I feel a weight I had not even noticed lift from my heart.
His enthusiasm to greet his bride, her joy, reassures me that, despite the differences between our lands and people, I was right to gently push these two together.