Part 162 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: Got a review on "Treason" the other day and decided to go reread it myself. In doing so, I thought it might be nice to explore how the close relationship between Eothain and Elfwine developed.

Conquered

(Feb, 3 IV)

"Eothain, will you join us for supper?" Lothiriel invited, shifting her son to her other hip.

The big man turned to her from conversing with Eomer and hesitated. Ever since Eomer's marriage, he had been reluctant to impose his company upon them. The newlyweds had appreciated that gesture, and Lothiriel's subsequent pregnancy further distanced them from Eomer's closest friend, who was as yet unmarried himself. But now Elfwine was nearly two years of age, and their married life had settled into a comfortable pattern. Lothiriel knew that the two men enjoyed spending time together, and their respective responsibilities did not always allow time for casual interaction. Despite the bickering in which she and Eothain engaged, each was really rather fond of the other; of that all three were certain. It was time to include him a bit more in their daily activities when it was possible to do so.

"I…" Eothain began, but he was interrupted by the queen, who could well anticipate his arguments against it.

"Oh, do not give me any silly excuses, Captain! How else may I civilize you if I do not drag you into genteel society on occasion?"

Eothain grinned roguishly at her. "Do you truly believe that will help, my lady?"

Eomer was chuckling as well and offered, "I personally would have my doubts, but then Thiri is a force to be reckoned with, Eothain. She just might succeed." Then he added, "And you may be sure the offer is sincere, if nothing else. Join us, my friend."

Eothain shrugged and nodded. "As you wish. Certainly it must be better than eating my own cooking!"

"Half an hour then," Lothiriel told the two men, but as she began to move away, she looked back and smiled wickedly. "And, yes, Captain – you do need to wash your hands before coming to the table!"

Eomer was laughing outright now, and they could hear Lothiriel's laughter drifting back to them as she continued off to the nursery with her son. "Is she always so strict?" Eothain asked, looking at his hands. "A little dirt on my hands has never interfered with my meals before!"

Not for a moment did Eomer believe this pretended ignorance of niceties, but assured his friend, "She is! And you had best depend on her checking them to see that you have done so before you put a single bite of food in your mouth! She wishes our son to have a good example set for him!"

Eothain grinned cheekily. "Then why did she invite me to supper?"

xx

Eothain was not a nervous man, but he had to admit, if only to himself, that entering this scene of domesticity put him on edge. Eomer, a man he knew as a consummate warrior, had settled eagerly into the roles of husband and father, and he was rather astonished at the ease with which his friend maneuvered in this setting. For a moment, the little family almost seemed to forget he was present, and he gazed upon their cheery, loving preparations for their meal with an envious eye. His own family was long since gone, and he had lived the solitary life of a soldier for many years now. A home and hearth, with a loving wife and children about him, had been something he considered in his youth, but somehow it never came to pass, and with the advent of war, he had thrust such notions aside for the duration. Even now that peace had been won, and many around him were marrying and siring children, no woman had come to his attention to lead him in that direction. He rather thought it was his lot in life to be alone.

"Sit, Captain," Lothiriel instructed, looking up at him hovering in the doorway. "We do not bite, and I will only slap your hands if you are unforgivably disgusting!"

He laughed, feeling a little less tense after her teasing. "I shall hold you to that, my queen! A man may only restrain himself so much before he does himself an injury in the attempt!"

Eomer had settled with his son in his lap and Eothain took a chair next to him, facing Lothiriel. Unsure of their routine, he waited for direction on how to proceed. Lothiriel began dishing food onto her husband's plate for him and glanced at the Marshal. "Help yourself, Eothain – just make certain you leave some for the rest of us!"

Eothain looked over the platters and dishes of food on the table, and then petulantly exclaimed, "You did not tell me that you intended to starve me to death. Why, there is barely enough food here for one, much less three and a child!"

A soft-shoed foot gently kicked his shin under the table. "Behave, you! Eat!"

Snickering, he complied and began to serve himself, as Eomer refrained from comment, content to enjoy the byplay between the pair. As their plates were filled and they started to eat, the trio relaxed even further. Eothain could not help but smile at the sight of his friend feeding his young son soft foods from his plate around eating himself. Sometimes, when he sat with his fellow soldiers, it was difficult to imagine them in homely settings, behaving thus. Watching Eomer gave him hope that rough-and-ready warriors could make the transition to fathers if they truly desired it.

When Elfwine had his fill of eating, he was allowed down on the floor to amble about and amuse himself. Though his parents seemed fairly unconcerned, Eothain could not help sneaking glances at the child to make sure he was all right. But the boy explored the room without mishap, and Eothain felt a bit foolish for his worry. Apparently, being a father was even more difficult than it seemed.

They were working on the dessert, a berry tart, when Eothain felt something tugging at his leg and looked down to find two enormous grey eyes peering up at him from under the table. Though Elfwine had his father's golden hair, the eyes had clearly come from his mother. For a moment, Eothain was unsure what to do, but then Elfwine reached his arms up to the Captain, a gesture Eothain had seen him do before to his parents when he wanted to be picked up. Scooting back to make room, he lifted the child awkwardly into his lap.

The big man couldn't say that he had ever really had dealings with children before. Babies, in general, he avoided since they seemed so small and fragile in his massive hands. This toddler was only a slight improvement on that, and he feared lest he snap the boy in two without noticing. When he glanced up to see if the parents wished to take the child, he was met with two amused grins, and could not refrain from flushing red. Taking the initiative, he queried, "Do you…"

Before he finished, Eomer told him, "You are doing fine, my friend. Elfwine seems content, so stop looking so worried. You are not going to break him!" Eothain gave him a glare; he should have expected Eomer would guess his thoughts. They had known each other far too long.

Trying to remember how he had seen Eomer deal with the boy, he settled him on one leg and took another bite of his tart. Just as he got it in his mouth, Elfwine made a grab for the tart still left on his plate, and he dropped his fork as he moved to pull the dish from the boy's reach. There was a moment of fussing, and again Eothain looked up in anticipation of being relieved of the child. Instead, Lothiriel smiled reassuringly. "He may have a berry. Mash it with your fork a bit so it will be easy for him to chew – small bites only."

Carefully following her instructions, he fed a bit of berry to the boy, who settled at once after getting what he wanted. After just a couple of bites, he lost interest and leaned back against Eothain, and to his amazement the child was soon sound asleep in his arms. He looked down at this small bundle and something tugged inside him. He had largely given up on the notion of marriage and children, but right at this moment he could very much wish to have such a thing in his own life. Unconsciously, his arms tightened around the boy, who snuggled in closer and continued sleeping. Without even thinking, he dropped a kiss on the tawny hair, overwhelmed with the feelings surging through him. How could such a mite burrow so deeply under his skin in just an hour's time? It made no sense, but he was certain of one thing – he would die to keep this child safe. Yes, this was Eomer's son and heir, and it was therefore his responsibility to do so, but this was something more, something deeper, and he could not explain it.

As the meal concluded, Lothiriel came over to claim her son and get him into bed, and Eothain was surprised by his reluctance to release the boy so soon. Certainly, this had been the most unusual supper of his recollection.

xx

Over the next few months, Lothiriel made it a point to invite Eothain to dine with them numerous times. The more Elfwine saw of him, the more comfortable the boy became. It rather surprised Eothain that the child wasn't frightened of him. Part of his lack of experience with children had been due to his size proving intimidating to them. More than once a child had screamed or cried if he came too near, so he had generally kept a safe distance from them. Older children usually came to realize that he was a harmless giant, but the younger ones merely saw an alarming hulk looming over them.

Elfwine exhibited none of these trepidations, however. Perhaps it was his parents' ease with the Captain that settled the child, but it was a new experience learning to deal with this tiny lad. Despite his gradually becoming less wary around the boy, and not so worried about harming him, nothing quite prepared Eothain for the day he joined the royal couple for dinner. By now, Elfwine went to Eothain as readily as to his father, so the Captain thought nothing of scooping the child up as he entered the dining chamber. This day was different, though. With a giggle, Elfwine flung his arms around the big man's neck and exclaimed, "E'tha'!"

He wasn't sure what expression he wore, but Lothiriel was soon snickering at the sight of him. How could something so simple as a child uttering his name send such a pang through his entire being? His arms enfolded the boy, and Lothiriel's humor faded as she watched him.

"Astonishing, is it not, the effect such a thing can have on one's heartstrings?" she asked quietly.

Too filled with emotion to speak, he simply nodded. Suddenly he was not so sure that his monarchs had done him any favors by including him in their family circle. He was not sure he could ever be content knowing that he did not have this for himself, that he could only borrow it from others. But, if that were so, if there was no woman who would have him and give him children he could call his own, then he fully intended to treat this boy, and any siblings that might follow him, with all the care and concern he possessed. If he must enjoy this vicariously, he would, but having tasted it, he could not give it up. The boy was a part of him now, and there was nothing he could do to change that, nor would he wish to do so.

The queen stepped close, brushing a loving hand over her son's head, and gave Eothain an understanding smile. "So small, and yet they get past any defenses you may try to erect. You are defeated, Captain. Welcome to the family!"

THE END

10/28/07

Elfwine turns 2 in April, 3 IV

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.