A/N: Some time ago, Lialathuveril wrote a short story about Eomer and Lothiriel in which Eomer's grandmother, Morwen, was still alive and living in Lossarnach. Up until then, I had not given Morwen much thought, but further research suggested she might in fact still be living in 3019 (about age 97). Tolkien told us very little of her, and even less about some of her children. Based on what little he did write, I have formed a possible scenario for use in this story. Certainly this is not the ONLY possibility, and many stories could be written about Morwen and her daughters, but the details I've imagined here suit my particular purpose at this time. Tolkien does not name three of Morwen's daughters. In a previous story of mine, I gave one the name of Minleoth, and I have used that name for her again here. I have also named the other two daughters, and if they appear in any other stories of mine, likely I will use the same names for them.
While I wrote, Morwen ended up on the page and taking up more of the storyline than I originally intended. Nevertheless, this is still an Eomer/Lothiriel story at its heart. Morwen just plays a large part in it.
Complete in 11 chapters plus a short Epilogue, posting a chapter every other day. Sorry about the footnotes. Someone else used them and they worked, but mine turned into regular numbers.
Spoils of War
Chapter 1 (Cormallen, April 3019 III)
"Eomer! Will you join us?" Erchirion called to his friend, and Rohan's king turned with a smile.
"Of course!" Settling down on a bench by the fire, he accepted a goblet of wine from an attending servant. "And what do the men of Dol Amroth do off by themselves this night?" he questioned, swallowing some wine as he looked around.
Imrahil chuckled. "Nothing of much consequence to anyone but us, I am afraid. We were speaking of my daughter. She has been staying with an elderly cousin in Lossarnach the past few months. We have decided to ride and fetch her as soon as Aragorn is crowned. It would be unfair to have her miss all the celebrations, and it is an easy ride. We can head out mid-morning, after the coronation, and return the next day." His eyes brightened then, and he added, "Would you care to come? I know you are eager to see your sister again, but if she is well enough, perhaps she would also enjoy such an outing. Lossarnach should be lush and green just now – well worth the effort after so much dust and bleakness."
Amrothos cleared his throat and asked, "Wait – is not Morwen of Lossarnach your grandmother? I seem to recall that is so."
"She is," Eomer acknowledged. "Why do you ask?"
Smiling, his friend replied, "Because that is the cousin of whom we speak! It would seem that we are somewhat related! Distant cousins, if I am not mistaken."
Imrahil had been pondering their conversation and now nodded. "Yes, we would be cousins. All the more reason for you and Eowyn to come with us, Eomer."
Eomer's jaw tightened imperceptibly. "I do not know if that is wise. We have not seen my grandmother in…well, the truth of it is, I do not remember her. She left the Mark when I was only three years of age, and Eowyn was not yet born. She has never displayed any interest in her grandchildren."
Imrahil nodded in understanding, but counseled, "Perhaps not, my friend, but that is not to say you should not make the attempt. It may be that she regrets the distance, but has merely grown too old to do anything about it. She draws ever nearer to the end of her life. You have so little family left – shall you not seek to preserve any family connection that you possibly can?"
Eomer knew it was sound advice, though he was still reluctant to yield. If anything, Eowyn felt even more strongly about the matter – she had never come to terms with Morwen's departure. Theodred had spoken warmly of their grandmother, remembering her well since she had largely been responsible for his care after the death of his mother in childbirth. Despite that, Morwen was a stranger to Eomer, and he had always been rather disinterested in the whole thing, not caring to know anyone who did not care to know him. But the prospect of a day spent riding out with Eowyn was a welcome one, so he would attempt to persuade her. "I thank you for the offer. I cannot speak for Eowyn, but I would be happy to accompany you."
xxxxx
In other circumstances, Eowyn might have begged off making the journey. But she understood how busy Faramir would be attending his new king; he would have little time to spend with her. This jaunt might give her an opportunity to make Eomer aware of her new-found love and wish to marry. In all the hustle and bustle, her brother would not have noticed anything between the two of them, but when they returned to the White City, it was sure to be evident, and she preferred to tell him of it than have him learn about the situation from others.
Erchirion had remained at Minas Tirith to make sure their house was in order and to assist Faramir in any way that was needed. Elphir was already there, having arrived from Dol Amroth the previous week, and he had put in long hours helping their cousin in preparations for the king's return.
Imrahil and Amrothos had readily allowed the siblings to drop back to talk privately, for which Eowyn was grateful. Though these were all the kin Faramir had left, and she looked forward to better knowing them, the most pressing matter was speaking to her brother. He was understandably concerned at her seemingly abrupt change of affection from Aragorn to Faramir, but Eowyn assured him her heart was true in this. "Did you not tell me that Aragorn said to you that in him I loved only a shadow and a thought?(1) Can you not see that he was right? I still respect and admire him, but he does not hold my heart. Only in Faramir have I found peace within myself. I am certain about this, Eomer. Truly I am."
With a sigh, Eomer nodded. "Very well. I will trust you, though I wish to meet this man before I give my consent to a marriage. His relatives from Dol Amroth give me no reason to think I will object to him, and Boromir was an excellent man, but the father concerns me. I do not approve of Denethor's actions through all this. Many lives might have been spared had he acted differently."
"That is not for us to judge, Eomer, especially after what happened at Edoras with Uncle Theoden. Faramir has told me a great deal of the situation in Gondor. Lord Denethor made mistakes, it is true, but they were honest mistakes. He did what he thought best for Gondor, however ill advised. It drove him to a madness in the end that caused his destruction, and he very nearly took Faramir with him. It is difficult to forgive that, but Faramir does and so I must also. He knew his father far better than I could in just a few month's time of listening to words spoken by others about the man."
Reluctantly, Eomer shrugged and agreed. "I suppose you are right. And he is dead now, so we can never fully know what drove him. If it is any consolation, even Aragorn and Gandalf speak well of this man you would marry. He has that to his credit," he teased.
Eowyn favored him with a glare before finally grinning, and nudging her horse forward to rejoin their hosts.
"How is it that your daughter is in Lossarnach? I would have thought she remained at home in Dol Amroth with your son, Elphir," Eomer commented, after they had ridden in companionable silence for a time.
Imrahil nodded. "That would seem reasonable, but with the corsairs attacking along the coast, I was not sure how safe it would be there. And, I confess, I wished to have her nearer to me. So, when we marched the troops north to Minas Tirith, we took her to stay with Lady Morwen. Sauron showed little interest in Lossarnach during the course of the war, though I have no doubt that would have changed had he won. Most of those who were sent from the City before the siege fled to the Lossarnach vales for refuge."(2)
"Have you a close connection with Lady Morwen?" Eowyn interjected, her features rigid and her eyes cold. While she had her own reason for coming along, she was not particularly pleased with their destination. Eomer suspected it was more a desire to escape the city than a wish to meet their grandmother, and likely the best he could hope for from her would be civility. If Faramir had been available to join his kinsmen on the outing, he thought perhaps this whole matter might be somewhat less tense, but the Steward could not presently be spared.
"Not so very much. I usually try to visit her at least once a year when I am in the City. But she has been most cordial about opening her home. Speaking of which, I have not alerted her to our pending arrival, so I did not know if she would be able to accommodate such a large group. However, Forlong's heir, Lord Zimran, has offered the use of his home. He sent a messenger to alert his staff that we would be coming," Imrahil explained. Looking closely at Eowyn, he started to say more, but then thought better of it and kept silent. It was unlikely he had any words that would ease the tension between the woman and her grandmother. They would have to settle matters on their own. At least Eomer seemed equanimable. Perhaps that would help.
It was very late in the afternoon when they reached the yard of Morwen's home. They had eaten their midday meal along the way so as not to be hungry when they arrived, and risk imposing such a large party on the staff of Morwen's household. Lothiriel must have received word of who had come, for she bolted from the house before all were dismounted and flung herself into her father's arms. "You are here! And safe!" She hugged him tightly before drawing back to flick her gaze around the assembled group, seeking for her brothers.
"Only Amrothos is with me," Imrahil said, pointing to where his youngest son was handing over the reins of his horse to a servant and hastening to join them. "The others remained with Faramir and will see us in the City."
The siblings fervently embraced, not speaking lest their emotions overwhelm them, and the rest of the party waited patiently for their reunion to end. After several minutes, Lothiriel stepped back, smoothing her dress and acknowledging the strangers in their midst. "You have brought guests?" she inquired of her father, glancing at Eomer and Eowyn standing nearby.
"Yes, dearest. I would have you meet, Eomer, King of Rohan, and his sister, Lady Eowyn – whom it will please you to know has captured the heart of our own Faramir!" Imrahil had been delighted when they shared Eowyn's news with him, and he had spent part of the trip assuring Eomer that Faramir was everything worthy as a husband to the king's sister.
Eowyn pinked at the remark, while Lothiriel's eyes went wide with astonishment. "Indeed! That is excellent news! I am so very happy to meet you, Lady Eowyn!" Then, remembering herself, she added sincerely, "And you also, Eomer King." She offered a graceful curtsy.
"The pleasure is ours," Eomer instantly responded. "Your family speaks warmly of you, and we have looked forward to finally making your acquaintance."
Lothiriel smiled at him and then glanced toward the house. "Please, come inside. Lady Morwen will be glad of the company, and to hear somewhat of Rohan. It has been long since she resided there."
Judging by her comment, Eomer suspected the girl was unaware of the dissension within his family, and that Morwen might not be so pleased as she expected. Nevertheless, they were here and had intended the meeting. Better for it to occur sooner rather than later.
Imrahil offered his arm to his daughter and they crossed the yard, followed closely by Amrothos and the Rohan pair. Lothiriel guided them down a short corridor and then off to the left into a large sitting room. Eomer was a little surprised by how much the home was more to Rohirric standards than Gondor's. Wood was used more than all the stone which was so prevalent throughout Minas Tirith. In many ways, it put him in mind of his home at Aldburg, though decorations on the walls were fairly unspecific to either land. Horses were not a common theme, but the sun appeared in a few tapestries, displayed in much the same way they used it in the Mark. Even so, there were also samples displaying the white tree. The overall effect was more a tribute to nature than to a sovereignty.
The group entered to find an elderly woman, sitting in state and eyeing them with narrowed gaze. Eomer got the distinct impression that she had guessed who they were, though there was no reason she should have, and her features remained impassive as Imrahil introduced them.
"Lady Morwen," Eomer acknowledged with a reserved bow, and Eowyn gave a reluctant curtsy to her grandmother.
"Eomer King, is it? I had foolishly hoped the reports were in error, and that my son and his heir were not truly fallen. Perhaps another time you would be so good as to tell me of their final days," she said, firmly meeting Eomer's gaze.
He merely nodded, not entirely clear whether it had been a request or a demand she was making. Morwen waved her hand around the room. "Please be seated. Lothiriel, would you have refreshments brought for our guests?"
"Of course, my lady," Lothiriel said politely, a bit disconcerted by the stilted behavior she was witnessing.
The others began settling into chairs and onto a small couch as Lothiriel exited, but conversation had lapsed for the moment. At length, however, one person had something they wished to say.
"Do you enjoy your home in Gondor?" Eowyn questioned, her arms crossed belligerently. She had ignored the invitation to be seated, choosing to stand by the fireplace as she confronted her grandmother.
Morwen eyed her frostily. "Do not take that tone with me, girl! You dare invade my house and favor me with your haughty, condescending words? Yes, I do very much enjoy my home here. But Lossarnach was my dearly loved home long before I ever came to Rohan. Had you been taken from the Mark to live in a distant land, once you were free to do so I have little doubt you would also have returned to the land you loved most."
She gave an irritated wave of her hand. "Oh, do be seated, child! I am too old for this sort of bickering. I made my choice, and though you do not approve, it was my choice to make. I am content. Without dear Thengel beside me, there was no reason to linger there when I truly wanted to be here. It is as simple as that."
"Regardless of your children or grandchildren?" Eowyn persisted, not willing to yield so readily, despite the uncomfortable shifting in their seats of the Dol Amroth men.
"I was sorry not to see my grandchildren. My children understood why I left, and assured me they would visit. But the Mark has long been troubled and somehow time was never made for such journeys. So I must content myself with this glimpse of Theodwyn's offspring." Her gaze softened as she added, "She would be proud, I am sure. Eomund also."
When Eowyn continued to stand where she was, Morwen said pointedly, "My choice was not acceptable to everyone, just as your recent decision was not. We are not so unalike, Eowyn." At Eowyn's startled countenance, she smiled. "Did you think me cut off and unaware here in Lossarnach's vales? Not at all – I keep abreast of what is happening around me, both here and in the Riddermark. I know far more than you give me credit."
Unsettled by Morwen's observation, Eowyn finally took a seat on a chair, the farthest one from her grandmother. As she did, Imrahil attempted to turn the conversation to more pleasant topics. "I realize you rarely leave your home these days, my lady, but if you would care to come to Minas Tirith and participate in the celebrations there, I should be happy to escort you. And you may not be aware, but our new king turns out to be none other than that same Thorongil(3) who served both your husband and Gondor many years ago. You may wish to meet him and renew the acquaintance."
"Thorongil(4)…yes, I remember that man," Morwen murmured thoughtfully. "King, now, is he? I cannot say that I am entirely surprised. There was always something in his eyes…"
Lothiriel had returned, along with servants bearing trays with wine and goblets, which they began to fill and offer around the room. Lothiriel settled next to her father on the couch, catching his hand in hers and giving him a warm smile. After so long apart and worrying about his safety, she needed to actually touch him in order to be convinced he was truly well.
Sipping at her wine, Morwen paused to ask, "Are you intending to return to Minas Tirith tonight? It is already nearing dusk."
Imrahil took it upon himself to speak for their group. "No, we will depart tomorrow, but I did want to come by and alert Lothiriel so she could spend the evening preparing her belongings for travel."
"Then where will you be staying overnight?" Morwen queried. "I am not sure I can adequately accommodate so many on such short notice." She sniffed with mild disapproval at this breach of etiquette.
"I had assumed that would be the case, my lady. Do not fear. We made arrangements to stay at the home of Lord Zimran. He sent word on there to ready rooms for us, but we came directly here first. Please know, though, that you are very welcome to pack a few belongings and accompany us. We will come to collect Lothiriel at mid-morning tomorrow and be on our way. And I am sure I have room for you in my home, even though I have Eomer and Eowyn staying with me, along with a few other guests."
"I will…consider it," Morwen conceded, clearly unwilling to be rushed into a decision. Then, changing the subject, she said, "Lord Zimran steps into his father's place now, does he not? I had heard that Forlong fell on the Pelennor. A great loss – he was a most admirable man."
"He was, indeed," Imrahil agreed, "and he died fighting valiantly. Some made light of his girth, but I am persuaded his size reflected his courage. Few fat, old men would throw themselves so readily into battle, defending their land."
Morwen smiled at his words. "True enough. There were those who thought he ought not go, but stay to defend Lossarnach and let his son lead our men in battle. However, he would not hear of such a thing, and wisely I think he hoped to keep Lord Zimran in reserve – both to govern Lossarnach, and to serve Gondor at need. He knew his time was nearly ended, so his loss would not be such a blow as Zimran's would."
Eomer's brow knit at her words, not expecting such wisdom. While it was tragic to lose anyone in battle, better to lose the elderly than the young men who would be needed to rebuild afterwards. Having none alive but old men, who would soon pass away, might briefly be useful, but it did not help future generations of their people.
"Have they planned supper for you at Lord Zimran's?" Morwen asked unexpectedly.
"I believe so," Imrahil replied. "I did not wish to overwhelm you with demands for courtesy when our coming was not anticipated." He swallowed the last of the wine in his glass and rose. "And I think we must depart so as not to inconvenience them in awaiting us. We shall see you on the morrow, and do please consider my invitation to join us."
Morwen inclined her head noncommittally as the others in the party stood as well. "I will see them out," Lothiriel offered, loath to part from her family a moment sooner than necessary.
It was a tearful farewell, despite Lothiriel knowing they would return the next day. "Do not weep, dearest," her father whispered. "You are coming home. All is well." He drew her into his embrace a final time before stepping up into the saddle of his waiting horse.
She looked up at him, with her hand upon his knee. "Mid-morning, then?" she asked, struggling to control her voice and appear collected.
"Yes. We brought a horse for you, but if Morwen decides to go with us I am sure she will want a carriage. And you have the packhorse here that brought your belongings," he replied.
"I will be ready, Father. Indeed, I shall be up at first light and watching at the window for your return!"
She gave a deprecating laugh at her foolishness, but he smiled tenderly down as he stroked her cheek. "Until tomorrow then."
Lothiriel stepped back and watched as they turned their horses toward the gate, lifting her hand to wave one final time before they disappeared around a tall hedge.
The servants were already setting out their supper when Lothiriel returned inside. In some ways, Lady Morwen was very set in her ways, and preferred to eat her meals precisely on time. The girl smiled, knowing that likely Morwen would have hastened her guests on their way had they threatened to delay her supper!
Already, Morwen was making her way slowly into the dining chamber. Though age had slackened her footsteps, she was still quite hale, and even her hair and face did not bely the many years she had seen. Her locks, once as black as the darkest night, still fought off the encroachment of white, giving the appearance of wet earth dusted lightly by frost, and her skin was nearly flawless and barely lined. Lothiriel had sometimes wondered if it was the blood of Numenor in her or just her own natural tendency that kept her so well.
After waiting for Morwen to seat herself first, Lothiriel followed suit, settling a napkin across her lap as the servants dished out soup for each of them. Before she could take a first taste of it – a creamy mushroom soup that was her favorite – her cousin began a conversation.
"So, tell me, child – what do you think of him?" Morwen queried imperiously.
Cautiously Lothiriel replied, "Whom do you mean, my lady?"
"Oh, do not be coy with me, girl – my grandson! What do you think of him?" the elderly woman persisted.
Lothiriel thought for a moment and then shrugged. "He is very quiet and solemn, but he seems amiable enough, Lady Morwen. And he appears to have excellent manners for a man who has been a warrior for so very long. I know my father and brothers think most highly of him."
"Yes, but men are so easily won over by prowess in battle," Morwen observed, as she considered Lothiriel's answer. "Likely 'dour' is a better description than 'solemn', although he has good reason. A great burden has been placed upon his shoulders now that he is king. Still, he is a handsome man, is he not, in a rugged sort of way?"
Lothiriel blushed slightly, but nodded. "Yes, my lady, he is. Amrothos was telling me in one of his letters from Cormallen that the ladies are quite taken with him, though I am sure part of that is due to the crown he wears. There will be many eager to sit beside him on the throne of Rohan."
Morwen eyed her perceptively, noting the heightened color in her cheeks, but did not inquire as to whether Lothiriel herself was such an aspirant. Whether she was or not, it was certain that Lothiriel would be most appropriate for such a role. But, more than that, Morwen liked the girl a great deal. She had enjoyed her company these past few months. Lothiriel was not only lovely, but level-headed and sensible, and very accomplished in all the things a young lady should be. Her grandson could do far worse. The only question was whether or not he would have the sense to see it. Men could be so very stubborn about such things. The painted ladies of Minas Tirith, with their flirtatious ways and forward manner, were apt to draw his attention away from someone so ingenuous as Lothiriel. Well, Morwen would simply have to make sure he took proper notice. True, she could not light a spark between them through any of her own doing, but she could make certain that Lothiriel was not overlooked when he was overwhelmed by more persistently pursuing women.
"And what about my granddaughter?" She brought her gaze to bear on Lothiriel, suspecting the response this time would not be so decided.
"She…she seems very nice, also, but I know little of her," Lothiriel acknowledged. "However, Faramir has long resisted the feminine wiles of Gondor's ladies. If he has given his heart to her, then I am disposed to like her if for no other reason."
"There is that," Morwen conceded, "though the girl's manners could use improvement. Still, despite her demeanor, I sense a vulnerability in her. I have to wonder what led her to the battlefield of Gondor when her place should have been at Edoras, leading the people in Theoden's absence."
As she fell into contemplation, Lothiriel kept silent. She had long ago learned that Morwen neither needed nor desired much conversation, and she knew that further discussion would come when the woman was ready for it.
The siblings from the north had intrigued her. King Eomer seemed to fill a room when he entered, even when he remained silent. She had no trouble imagining him leading a great host of men in battle. In all her associations with soldiers, she had seen only one or two leaders with that kind of presence, but she knew this was the sort of man who could rally his army even when all odds seemed against them. Men willingly died for such a captain. Beyond that, however, she could not say she knew much of him. He had said very little during their visit, content to let her father carry the conversation. It was easy enough to admire him as a leader, and even to acknowledge how attractive he was to the female eye, but it was difficult to know if it ended there. Some such men were incapable of casual conversation, and spoke only of war and battles. She would be interested to see, when they reached Minas Tirith, what social skills he may or may not possess.
Eowyn was even more of a mystery. As her cousin had noted, there was something almost fragile about the woman, which seemed odd considering her accomplishment in battle. When they had learned of it, Morwen had told Lothiriel a little of Rohan's tradition of shieldmaidens, and riding into battle was not necessarily a part of it. True, they were expected to be valiant and skilled with a blade, but beyond the ceremonial, the shieldmaiden was more for defense in any fight that came to their door. Women were not expected to ride out and meet an enemy. Lothiriel could not help but wonder what might have driven this particular woman to do something so drastic.
Morwen had not misspoken when she told her grandchildren that she knew much of the goings on in Gondor and Rohan. And, sharing her home, Lothiriel had learned much as well. It was no secret that there had been treachery within the king's household at Edoras, courtesy of a man named Grima. Though all the particulars could not be known, Lothiriel rather wondered if he had not somehow played a part in Eowyn's presence in Gondor with a sword in her hand. And even if he did not, in some ways Lothiriel could still understand her coming. Just a few short months ago it had seemed as though all of Middle-earth was to be destroyed or conquered by the great evil in the east. Had Lothiriel known how to fight, she might also have desired to stand alongside her family – to die with them or to help bring about a victory. Perhaps, in the end, fealty for her kin was what had driven Eowyn to battle.
Her musings were interrupted by Morwen pronouncing, "I believe I will go to Minas Tirith. It would seem there is much to be seen and learned there. Would you be so kind as to attend me in the City, Lothiriel?"
"Of course!" Lothiriel replied with undisguised pleasure. She had become quite fond of the elderly woman as they had shared a home, and she very much enjoyed the association. Indeed, she was sure she would miss Morwen when she returned to Dol Amroth. "I am more than happy to aid you in any way that you wish, my lady. It would be an honor to do so."
Morwen smiled, knowing full well that the sentiments expressed were sincere, even though by rights a daughter of Dol Amroth's prince would have no need to be so subservient to anyone else. Perhaps due to not knowing most of her own grandchildren, a bond had quickly formed with the girl, though in part that was the result of Lothiriel's open and easy nature. It had not taken long, nor been difficult, for the both of them to settle into a comfortable routine. Lothiriel brought liveliness to Morwen's home, and Morwen shared her wisdom and sources of information with the girl. Each had gained from the association and would regret it coming to an end. True, Lothiriel could, and likely would, visit whenever she was in the north, but beyond that they were not apt to see much of one another.
Shoving aside her plate, Morwen used the table to steady herself as she rose. "Well, then, if I am to make this journey, I had best get busy with organizing my trunk. You also, as you will have far more to pack than I do, though if you forget anything it can be gotten later." She smiled fondly at the girl before making her way slowly toward the door of the dining room. "Would you find Halgeth and send her to me?" she requested over her shoulder, not awaiting a response but knowing she would be heeded.
TBC
Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.
Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen
Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)
Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen
Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen
Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen
Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog
Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)
Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant
Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman
Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer
Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle
Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):
Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.
ch 1: (1) In the book, Aragorn tells Eomer (in the Houses of Healing) that Eowyn loves only a shadow and a thought. In the movie, Peter Jackson had Aragorn say it to Eowyn at Dunharrow.
(2) In the book, Minas Tirith was not full of citizens as in the movie.
(3) In the Appendix A (under The Numenorean Kings) it says: "Thorongil men called him in Gondor, the Eagle of the Star, for he was swift and keen-eyed, and wore a silver star upon his cloak; but no one knew his true name nor in what land he was born. He came to Ecthelion from Rohan, where he had served the King Thengel, but he was not one of the Rohirrim." This suggests that Thorongil had a different name in Rohan before he got to Gondor. However, in Appendix B, under The Tale of Years, the timeline for the Third age says that from 2957-80 "Aragorn undertakes his great journeys and errantries. As Thorongil he serves in disguise both Thengel of Rohan and Ecthelion II of Gondor." If this is true, he was also known as Thorongil in Rohan. As I have found no other name he may have gone by in Rohan, I am assuming he used Thorongil there also.
(4) Although in the extended version of Two Towers Aragorn tells Eowyn that Theoden was but a small child when he served her grandfather Thengel, in 2957 when Thorongil came to Rohan Theoden would have been 9. Even assuming Thorongil stayed in Rohan a shorter period than he was in Gondor (I split it as 9 yrs in Rohan and 14 in Gondor for this story), that would make Theoden 18 yrs old when Thorongil left – well able to remember him.