Part 122 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.
A/N: Waaaayyyy back in October 2005, JennyN wrote a little story based on the Elfwine Chronicles and sent it to me to spur my writing more. It involved the relationship between Theodwyn and Morwen, which made me realize that I hadn't particularly addressed that much. Obviously, that oversight didn't gnaw at me, but at long last I've felt inspired to do something with it. Likely the delay has been due partly to needing to build the characters more so that I "knew" who I was working with and what I wanted to say about them. Morwen had only been mentioned in passing, for the most part, and wasn't really developed to any extent until later.
So, anyway, here's the result of JennyN's efforts so long ago to nudge me along in my writing. And thanks to Tracey for being honest with me when she doesn't think something works. In this case, I rather knew the ending wasn't right, but she didn't hesitate to tell me her reaction and give me some ideas on how to fix it. That's always appreciated, as are all of your comments when you review. Please don't hesitate to challenge me if you think something is amiss and needs tweaking. I try to be accurate to both Tolkien, history and any story elements, but that doesn't mean I can't make mistakes. And your observation about the story or the characters may spur further ideas for the future.
Diversity
(Nov, 27 IV)
Theodwyn examined her hands, possibly for the first time in her life. She used her hands, used them a lot for just about everything. Rarely did she consider gloves or any of the other protections most ladies deemed necessary. She had never particularly noticed before how chipped and cracked her nails were, or the rough spots and scratches she bore. To her surprise, she was rather embarrassed by them. What did Freawine think of her hands? Did he mind holding such rough, unappealing things? She gave a sigh, for the first time regretting not paying more attention to her mother's efforts to teach her womanly skills. She was a shieldmaiden, and she knew that Freawine admired that in her, but she thought he would likely also wish to find he had married a woman rather than a soldier.
A sound to her right indicated the other family members were beginning to arrive for dinner, and she turned to discover her sister entering the room. Morwen – all ribbons and curls and fine dresses. The two of them had never been especially close, partly because of the age disparity, and partly because they viewed the world so differently. It was not that the sisters did not love one another, but rather that they did not understand the thoughts that ran through one another's head.
But at this moment, looking at her younger sister, Theodwyn felt slightly envious at the ease with which she managed herself. Hair, hands, clothing – Morwen attended to them almost without thought, and she was only thirteen years. Unconsciously, Theodwyn rubbed at her rough hands again, and the motion caught her sister's notice.
"Is something wrong with your hand?" Morwen asked, her nurturing instinct well developed even at so young an age.
For an instant, Theodwyn almost considered denying a problem, too uncomfortable with such a conversation, but she did want Freawine to find her appealing. Clearing her throat, and unable to restrain a blush, to her very great annoyance, she admitted, "I was just realizing how rough my hands have become. I suppose I should put something on them." She stopped short of actually asking Morwen for assistance, though she suspected her sister would eagerly help her.
Morwen bit her lip to hold back a grin. She understood what it was costing Theodwyn to speak of this with her, and she did not want to do anything to disrupt this tenuous connection between them. Unlike Theodwyn, who was quite content to spend her time solely in the company of men, Morwen enjoyed female companionship, and was sorry that she and her sister had never been close. Their interests were simply so different that they found it difficult to find any common ground other than being part of the same family. And, yet, Morwen was oddly proud of her older sibling. Though she had no desire to be a shieldmaiden herself, she was fiercely protective of Theodwyn, and all her family members, and if that was the course Theodwyn chose then woe to any who belittled it in front of Morwen.
Hesitantly she offered, "I…have some creams that might help. Would you like me to get them for you after dinner?"
Not meeting her eyes, Theodwyn forced herself to smile, and say, "That would be lovely. Thank you."
They spoke no further on the matter as the rest of the family trickled in and the meal began, but once it was ended, they moved toward their shared bedchamber. The room was a source of amusement for the servants. One half belonged to Theodwyn, tended to be rather messy, and was adorned with little more than her armor and weapons. Morwen's side was neatly organized, and decorated with feminine nicknacks. Her dresser was covered with creams and scents, ribbons and jewels. She had needlework that she was doing neatly placed in its own particular spot. As a general rule, each knew better than to touch anything on the other's side, though they had little desire to do so anyway.
Now, Theodwyn found herself standing in front of this bewildering assortment of creams and concoctions, watching a little nervously as Morwen decided which she wanted. At length, she found the pot she thought best and had Theodwyn sit on her dressing bench. Taking a bit of the cream onto her fingers, she caught Theodwyn's hand and began to work it into the skin, massaging it in well and particularly working it around the nails. When each hand had been treated, she cautiously suggested, "Your nails are a bit broken. Would you like me to trim and smooth them for you?"
With a small sigh, Theodwyn nodded. She might as well endure the full treatment. "Thank you," she forced herself to say, though she still wasn't certain how she felt about all this.
Taking a seat beside her, Morwen set to her task, but after a moment, she commented idly, "You have hands like Aunt Eowyn. I think this cream will work well for them, as it is one she gave to me."
Theodwyn's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Truly? I did not know Aunt Eowyn went in for such things." She stopped suddenly, not wanting to be rude to her sister.
"Oh, yes," Morwen replied, pointedly ignoring the remark and trying to keep this light. "She says working with her sword, riding and digging in her garden makes her hands very rough, and she does not want them to be unappealing to Uncle Faramir. After all, she is a woman, first and foremost."
Theodwyn was startled by this revelation, and her eyes narrowed as she gazed at her sister's head, bent to her work. Had she guessed Theodwyn's reason for desiring this, or was it just a casual observation? Either way, it did make her feel better about things. If Aunt Eowyn did not deem it inappropriate for a shieldmaiden then why should she? Without even realizing it, Theodwyn began to relax, and talk more informally with her sister from that point on, and the two spent a pleasant half hour together.
After that, in the days leading up to her wedding, Theodwyn sought her sister's assistance on more than one occasion. The treatment of her rough hands had gone so well, that Theodwyn felt emboldened to ask Morwen about colors and fabrics for her wedding clothes, and forced herself to sit and do some of the sewing, knowing that as a wife she would need to be able to do mending of her family's clothing.
It surprised her to discover that Morwen was conversant in far more than girlish pursuits, and they held some far-ranging discussions about matters of Gondor, Rohan and life in each place. Admittedly, they did not always agree, such as when Morwen professed a preference for time spent in Gondor and Theodwyn devoutly defended Rohan's way of life, but both could see why the other felt as they did. Their own personal interests and personalities were better adapted for the place they each preferred.
Without even realizing, it the interaction, as they sat sewing and as Theodwyn sought Morwen's counsel, drew them closer together. Theodwyn knew she could have gone to her mother about many of the things she was needing help with, but suddenly it seemed important that she include Morwen in her preparations. They likely would never have much in common, but she did love her sister dearly. If there was common ground to be had, even for a brief period, then she would claim it. Perhaps in their differences they could complement one another, rather than be separated by them. Certainly that had proven true for Theodwyn, though she was not sure how she could ever return the favor for her sister.
When at length Theodwyn stood before the king to be wed, there were many comments on the beauty of the bride and her wedding attire. At the feast afterwards, Theodwyn unabashedly did not hesitate to give her younger sister full credit for the transformation from shieldmaiden to young woman. And, to everyone's surprise, that approbation from Theodwyn had a profound impact on shy Morwen. She carried herself more proudly and confidently after that. She still had moments when she battled with timidity, but she was the sister of a shieldmaiden, and had no desire to embarrass Theodwyn with cowardice.
Eomer watched his two daughters as they moved around the Golden Hall, pleased with what he saw. Though he likely was biased, he truly believed he had been blessed with beautiful daughters. Lothiriel had brought to his attention all the time they had been spending together of late, and the transformation in each was satisfying. They seemed more comfortable with each other than they ever had been before, and he was glad to see it. To his eyes, both were stronger and better for their new understanding of one another. He had no complaint with that.
THE END
2/1/07 – 2/9/07
Theodwyn is 19, Morwen is 13
End note: It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content.
