A/N: I have returned! With a story I started a little over a year ago, after I finished reading RotK. *cough* Yes, yes...then I got jumped by another fandom and never came back to this. Disclaimers: I Don't Own Anyone In This Story. That means that I've just given away my few original characters, but oh well...
WARNING: (For once not about drugs or violence!) I have had serious trouble spelling lately, and Spellcheck doesn't cover Middle-earth words, so feel free to correct.
The fields of Rohan were flat and broad and green no matter where you looked. There were few landmarks, and many were the times Eomer had stood, alone, on the lands his family roamed and been overwhelmed by the vastness of this kingdom.
Standing now in the Golden Hall, one arm around the trembling shoulders of his sister Eowyn, he felt as alone as ever he had been on the fields of his home. Further ahead sat Theoden, while Eodrel (the rider who had rescued the two siblings) recounted the gruesome story for the King.
Eomer's grip tightened around Eowyn as the images of his parents' murders, still fresh in his mind, returned to him unbidden. He wanted to cover Eowyn's ears and protect her from these awful memories, but knew that she felt the same towards him and would no more tolerate coddling than he would.
"Come, children," Theoden spoke at last as he opened his arms to them. "Great love did I have for your parents...." His words were choked with grief as he pulled the two sobbing forms into an embrace. He held them close and said softly, "Great love do I have for you."
Eomer woke early, as he did everyday. He and Eowyn had been in Edoras for almost a month. Theoden was as loving and kind as their father had been, but he was often too busy for play. The children found other ways to entertain themselves, most often together, though it was a struggle at times to maintain what Eomer knew was 'polite' behavior.
Quietly he tiptoed to his sister's room while the sun drowsily began to spread her rays over the hills and in through the windows. He was armed with a small wooden hair comb.
"Eowyn," he whispered. At first there was no answer, but two steps later the younger child was up and rubbing her eyes blearily.
"Good morning, brother," she mumbled. "May I wear the green dress today?"
Eomer shook his head firmly. "You dirtied it last night."
Eowyn looked at him. "But Sandred said--"
"I know what he said," Eomer cut her off. "But you shouldn't have pushed him in the mud. We're lucky King Theoden doesn't send us off to Fangorn to fend for ourselves!"
"I apologized." The seven year old girl frowned, and Eomer couldn't help but take pity on her. He sighed and walked over to her wardrobe.
"Here, how about the blue one?"
"Really?" Her eyes lit up and Eomer knew he had her under his thumb for the day.
"Yes, but mind that you are more careful with this one."
"I will be!" She scrambled out of bed, hardly noticing the cold stone floor, and changed out of her nightgown and into the coveted blue dress in record time.
Once they had finished making Eowyn's bed, she sat quietly on a small velvet chair and watched the sunrise as Eomer combed out the many tangles of her fine blond hair. He knew it was pointless to ask her not to tousle it throughout the day. Even when she tried her hardest to behave, Eowyn somehow managed to become muddy and scraped.
Their first few weeks were easier, when she had been afraid to breathe wrong, but the kindness of their uncle had put them at ease. Now Eomer feared his sister would soon prove herself the devilish tomboy he knew her to be.
"How do you want it today?" he whispered.
"Like this." She gathered a fistful of hair in each hand and pulled them to her face like a beard and moustache.
Eomer's eyes glinted in amusement, but he refused to smile. "No."
Bright eyes peered up at him through the mess of hair. "But I can't grow one."
"Nor should you! You would be hideous with a man's face, full of hair." Eowyn scowled and released her hair. Eomer brushed it back under his control. He sighed, "Why don't I just do it like I did yesterday?"
It had taken him many long, secret nights and even longer arguments with his sister before he felt he had enough practice at making her look presentable to get up in the morning and prepare her for the day. There was much more to this 'art' of women's hair dressing than there appeared at first. He had also been worried that Eowyn would tell Theodred that her older brother did her hair every morning, but Eowyn thus far had let nothing slip.
"All right." Eomer blinked at his sister's words, shrugging himself out of his silent musings.
He took a two-inch strip of hair and braided it like he did rope; this he had Eowyn hold while he did the other side, and then he bound them together with a ribbon he had found. First scrutinizing it from the back, and then in the mirror, he gazed down at the fidgeting girl.
"Good?" He always asked this. If her response was serious (which was rare) then he would sometimes be forced to redo it.
Eowyn nodded. "Better than yesterday, even."
"Very well, let's get your boots on and go fetch breakfast." Breakfast was served mainly to the soldiers at this early hour, as few other people besides the farmers needed to arise with the sun.
It could have been the fact that Eowyn and Eomer were Theoden's kin; perhaps it was in mind of the tragedy they had just been through; or maybe it was the children's keen wits that brought them under the wings of all the soldiers in Edoras's barracks. Whichever it was, Eowyn and Eomer's visits were greatly looked forward to by the men of the Riddermark.
One of the Marshals was the first to greet them, as they stepped inside the warm barracks. He grinned, teeth flashing white against the grime on his face left over from the night's long patrol. Leaving his bunk, where he had been spreading fresh blankets, he scooped up Eowyn and clapped her brother on the shoulder.
"Earliest to rise, as usual," the captain remarked. "What strange children you are! A lesson could be learned from this by my own young ones. How your nursemaid must grumble, Eowyn!"
Still slung over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, she protested, "I don't have a nursemaid, Dava!"
"Oh, you don't?" He didn't sound like he entirely believed her.
Eomer's ears grew warm as he blushed at the thought of Dava's jeering, should it be known that he cared for his sister in place of a maid.
Eowyn came to his rescue. "Why should I? Do you have one?"
Dava laughed and set her down. "You mind your tongue! Now come, before the food is cold."
Eomer squoze Eowyn's shoulder in silent gratitude before following the jovial captain down the corridor.
"I could almost say you enjoy our food, second rate as it often is," a new recruit murmured as he watched Eomer gulp down his breakfast. "We may make a soldier out of you yet."
"I plan to be a Rider," he answered around a mouthful of bread.
"Me, too." Eowyn piped up.
This brought a few chuckles. "And a fine one you will make, too, milady!"
"So is that the reason the two of you eat with us rather than with the King?" Dava asked.
They exchanged looks. Eomer spoke for them, as he often did, "No. My sister is always hungry in the mornings and I don't want her to wait overly long to be fed."
Most of them accepted this. Dava tilted his head. "And your uncle doesn't mind that you come out here? Doesn't he worry that you don't eat?"
"We do eat with him," Eowyn said. "And the Queen says she is glad for us to be out here." Eowyn didn't know that Queen Elfhild was mostly glad they were coming out of their reserved shells; it didn't matter so much who they befriended, as long as they were active. It gave her hope that they were not damaged more than was expected by the loss of their parents.
The day passed pleasantly, if uneventfully, for Eowyn and her brother. That night, however, Elfhild sent for her young niece. It was the first time that Eowyn had been summoned without Eomer by her side, and it worried her.
"Yes, milady?" Eowyn quietly stepped into the large, though seldom seen, private chamber of the Queen.
Elfhild turned to her with slightly clouded eyes. Illness was slowly claiming her life, and while she knew it upset the child to see her this way, nothing could be done about it.
A shaking, slender hand was held out to the daughter of Eomund. "Come closer. This is very important...I cannot risk you not hearing my words for their full weight."
Eowyn moved forward silently, on her toes. "What is it, auntie?"
Placing a trembling arm around the girl's shoulders, Elfhild nodded towards a figure standing next to the glowing fireplace. "That is Elio. He has trained Shield maidens for more than a generation..." Her words were ceased by a harsh, rasping cough. She managed to gasp out, "He will train you."
Elio crossed the room and, gently brushing Eowyn aside, tended to the Queen. When she was steadied he turned back to Eowyn. "Your training begins tonight," he murmured. "Come."
Outside, the moon was slowly rising.