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The Spirit and the Strength
Ѐowyn was running in the fields, pulling off heads of flowers and whipping a stick at the grass. She enjoyed playing in the meadows, no one could find her in the tall grasses and she could stay out for as long as she liked. Only Ѐomer knew where she would go on a day to day basis.
When it rained she would hide under a huge golden apple tree, when it stopped the apples would be clean and fresh. The King's niece would pick only the finest apple on the tree, making sure it was the biggest and most gold. The protection of the tree would also be there if it was too hot, its shadow covering her like the arms in an embrace. Although she preferred to swim in the creek when it got too hot, sometimes there would be fishermen near the river and she didn't want to get in trouble if her parents knew she was out this far from Eastfold.
But the weather today was not something to forbear from. It was perfect, Ѐowyn's standards: cloudy, not enough to mask the sun, and cool, but warm enough to wear a dress to outside. She planned to run today, and chase some of the animals. Perhaps, even, she'd play with Ѐomer.
Although he was much older than her – she was six, he was ten – her older brother still liked to spend time with her, when he wasn't busy with his pedagogue. Every single day he would have to learn history, to write, to read, and then in the last half, to fight! Sometimes after he'd finish with his schooling, he'd come down past the river, calling her name, and teach her some of the steps and swings. Of course, he'd lose his patience, but 'What can you expect from a six year old?' she would think after a good yelling. The one time she actually learnt it perfectly, he swelled with pride; mostly for his little sister, but also for himself, being able to teach it.
And sometimes after his private tutoring, Ѐomer and Ѐowyn would walk to her favourite tree and get an apple eat. Once, Ѐomer even put her on his shoulders so she could get the perfect one. After the fruit was picked, the two would sit with their backs against the tree, and talk about everything happening in their lives.
Ѐowyn loved the time she got to spend with her brother and when she looked over to the creek, there he was, waving his arms running over to her.
But soon things were too busy for the two to spend much time together. After they had moved to Meduseld, things were too busy for the two to share time with one another. Ѐomer had more responsibilities, and his training was longer. Her brother had also become attached with Theodred, looking up to him as a role model, like Ѐowyn did with him.
Ѐowyn had also started schooling, but it was much different than Ѐomer's. Ѐowyn had learned to read, write, nurse and everything there is to know about the history of the Rohirrim, but she was not educated with the blade.
No, that's why her former tutelage was so important to her.
So Ѐowyn continued her practice with the blade. She would watch Ѐomer and the other soldiers train, and would do the same, or as much as she could remember, in the valley – grassy lands much like her old meadows. Her previous training had made her strong, even Ѐomer didn't start using a sword when he was six. Of course she might have only used a stick then – or a wooden sword, when her brother brought one – it still prepared her. But she never got much time to now. Her studies were much more important to her Uncle than having time to hone any of her other skills.
But all that didn't matter, because no matter what she found the time to build up her strength with a sword – a real sword this time.
And so time passed.
Ѐowyn found herself laying the grassy valley. She was looking up at the sky, lost in her thoughts.
"What are you doing?"
She smiled and looked up. "I am in love with him, brother."
He smiled back and lay down beside his sister, head to head, and they talked about everything happening in their lives...