rohanson: (Default)
...meanwhile, somewhere in Scotland, a would be writer with a Rohirrim fixation posts the first chapter of what she knows is a brilliant piece of work to a fanfiction site. Then she gets to work on chapter two, dreaming of the glowing feedback, and award nominations she just knows will follow, unaware of how her actions have changed the course of history in another world ...

The Tales of Bregdan Part One - The Spell is Cast

The scrying bowl never lies, that is what my mentor Glorfindel taught me. I, Bregdan, the only sheildmaiden of Rohan ever to be considered worthy enough to be taught by the elves. The scrying bowl tells me he will die, Theodred, the flaxen-haired warrior I give my protection to, but he will not! I will use all my power to save him, but it will bind him to me, make me irresistable to him, draw him to me.

Eowyn, my cousin, will not understand, but if it is to save his life, I will do it willingly. No sacrifice is too great for him.

The bowl shows him in the midst of battle, and I turn all my power outwards, weaving my spell, using the bowl to concentrate it. The orc spear that was meant for him from the dawn of time flies past, the spell is cast. I fall to the gound in a faint, and my last thought as darkness takes me is that I have done my part and now the rest is up to him.

I spend my time tending my herb garden, and braiding Shadowfair’s mane, thankful for the company of the Mearas that graces my life, as I wait for him. I know it may be days, but he will find me. He will be drawn to me, and I will tend his wounds when he arrives, and keep him from harm as he heals,

All I have to do is wait.

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December 2007

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