The night was still young and Èomer was eager to get going. It was one of these rare days he could take a break; he loved serving the Mark as a rider in Elfhelm's éored, but his soul required a soft bed and a night of drinking and singing once in a while.
Today, they had come back to Èdoras and Elfhelm was summoned to report to Théoden as soon as they arrived. That gave them plenty of time to sample the best ciders served across the capital. Finding a group to bar hop was easy; he told his idea to Èothain, who told everyone else. Théodred had politely declined their invitation to join, much to Èomer's relief. He loved his cousin, but his presence would dampen the evening's joviality. Everyone would be too awestruck by the Heir's presence to act normally.
The evening was going to be fun. A grin lit up his face. He patted Èothain on the back. "This will be fun!" His friend only chuckled in response.
"Where are you going?" A voice demanded from behind. Both young men spun around on their heels to face their interrogator, only to find Èowyn standing at the top of the palace staircase. Her hair was longer than he remembered, the wind was blowing them all over her face. She must have come back from the stables tending to horses. She was still wearing her soft riding trousers and a red shirt he recognized as one of his old, ill-fitting ones.
"You were meant to spend time with me!" His not so little sister anymore hopped down the stairs two at a time till she stood on eye level with him and Èothain. "You had promised!"
Promised? For a moment he was very confused, how could he have promised her anything when he had spent only a few minutes with her since his arrival? Then, he remembered talking with her before leaving Èdoras two months ago; I will teach you the card game once I am back.
Horror was evident on his face, an emotion she recognised. Èowyn grasped her opportunity to demand her due. "I know you remember! You had promised to teach me the dams and knights!"
How could he have forgotten? He was torn between his promise to Èowyn and meeting with his friends, the cider he could taste...
"I know that game!" Èothain exclaimed. "We have been playing from time to time with other Riders of our eored. Unfortunately, not as often as we would have wished ".
"Others?" She raised a questioning eyebrow, a habit she had picked up from their uncle at some point between Èomer's visits to the Capital.
"Some lads from the éored" his face lit up and Èomer groaned. Whatever was about to come out of his friend's mouth, he would not like it. "You can come with us and we will teach you!"
"Yes!" screamed her, as he screamed "No!"
The siblings looked at one and another and simultaneously they turned to face Èothain. The latter wanted to laugh but he refrained. Who would have thought that their fate would be in his hands?
"Alright, let us go!" The glee was evident in all her mannerisms.
"Just for a while". Her brother warned as sternly as he could. He was not sure that he had been heard, though.
The march to the town and the meeting with the rest of their group was fairly uneventful. A lot of the lads were close on complaining about Èowyn's addition to the group, but Èomer's sour look and Èothain's nonchalant face deterred them from doing so.
The first place their small group of seven entered was one of the most reputable places in the town. Èowyn's presence was vastly unnoticed by most of the people in the tavern; dressed in her boy's clothes, hair bellow a cap that Brytta had given her and sat between her brother and his best friend, she just looked like any other young esquire who tried to be included in the older boys' group.
The first round of drinks was served and Èowyn picked up her mug of cider, greed and excitement in her eyes. Èomer was perplexed at the image of his sister drinking, but why? Of course! His little sister was drinking alcohol! She was just a little child!
"Èowyn!" He hissed horrified, "let it go! You cannot drink alcohol; you are too young!"
"I am sixteen years old, and you were drinking at that age, you large oaf".
When had she turned sixteen? For him she was still twelve years old. For a moment he was confused, doing the mental math to see if she was lying to him. "Right, you are fifteen years old, but you are too young to be drinking!"
"Sixteen!"
Èothain realised that there was an explosion of temper looming on the horizon and he realised he had to do something to avert the siblings' attention from each other to something else. "Hei, Brytta, you know how to play dams and knights?" The lad nodded affirmative. "Why don't you teach Èowyn? She really wants to learn the game".
The prospect of learning the game got Èowyn's attention and she shifted her position further down the table to sit next to Brytta. Èomer looked a bit broody and unconvinced; he was ready to protest against Èowyn getting her mug of cider along, but Èothain stopped him.
"It is only a drink! She can have one, maybe another in the next tavern and then we get her back to the palace and we go on with our tour to the least savory places. Everyone will be happy!"
Èomer was unconvinced, but then Leogar, who was a year older than Èomer and had two more sisters than he did, started narrating about his sisters' escapades with cider at the age of fourteen. Èomer was largely unconvinced and kept a watchful eye over Èowyn, but soon the group were either sharing drinking stories of their siblings or got invested into teaching Èowyn the game. The atmosphere was relaxed and joyful for the rest of their visit in that pub, untill the time to move to the new place came.
The siblings started arguing, but there was no need for Èothain to intervene. Brytta, and the other two people who were trying to teach Èowyn to play dams and knights supported her claim in going to the next pub.
"One more place, Èomer!" They shouted out loud and he had to accept his defeat.
The next tavern was a bit less clean and a tiny bit rowdier than the first place. As soon as the group sat at the table, the dams and knights team started playing immediately. Èomer ordered the drinks and almost ordered a mug of milk for his little sister but changed his mind and ordered a small mug of ale for her.
She frowned a bit while accepting the drink, her drink was obviously chosen to be smaller than the rest. Before she managed to complain about the discrimination, Leogar played a card that seriously compromised her chances of winning and, so, her complain was never voiced. It was at this moment that a group of men entered the tavern. Eomer looked up to see Déor, a young rider they had served together for a little while. He was not alone; more Riders had entered behind him and a general round of greeting and laughter and lots of back clapping ensued for a moment. The newcomers settled on their own bench, and since the Rohirrim believed that the more people attended an event the merrier it was, they soon joined their parties for the evening.
One more round of ale topped up their goblets; and then another. A lot of toasts to the King's health, and the maidens' beauty were made at that point. The drinks were up sooner than each previous round, the voices became louder and the stories narrated naughtier.
Deor had just finished one very long story about an encounter with a lady behind the Royal stables, when Èowyn pipped up. "This cannot be true" she had crossed her arms, her face was flustered, and her big brother just realised that she had not one, but two large mugs of ale in front of her.
"It is true, lad!" Deor said. "If you feel in need, always use poetry to get your way", he winked.
"I will keep it in mind," she answered. "But I would pick better poetry than you! Only a dimwit would swoon over that!"
Everyone roared with laughter but Èomer. Even Deor seemed to find her remark funny, even though it was he who had, presumingly, narrated the bad poetry behind a stable.
"I was not aiming for a better than a dimwit!" He winked and moved on to another story.
Èomer stood up and men looked at him. "I think it is time for us to go home!"
Loud protests were made, and a lot of pleading arose which was not limited to his dear sister. Èothain, however, just moved to his side and whispered. "All is under control, do not worry." And out loud he proclaimed "I am buying the next round!".
Hooray! They all shouted and before Èomer knew it, they were dragged into another and ten another round, laughing and joking, till at some point he noticed Èowyn standing in front of him. She was frowning and her fists rested on her hips, a pose she copied from their nanny.
"I think, you need to go home" she turned around and scanned the loud crowd. "Èothain! Help me with the oaf of a brother".
Èomer was about to protest when he realised that he could not walk straight. The room was shaking as if he was on a boat. Or at least, he thought that this was the feeling one felt while on a boat. How had time passed like that? A wave of nausea swept over him, as he was dragged to his feet. When had Èowyn become so strong? Had he turned into a weakling over night? But no, it was not Èowyn who dragged him to his feet; it was Èothain and Brytta. Alright, that made more sense. The three men and Èowyn left the tavern in a chorus of songs. There were at least three different songs sung at once, all creating a silly and implausible story of musical mischief, bravery and romance.
The way up to the hill of the Palace took a very long time. Brytta and Èothain were soberer than Èomer, but they were in an equally elevated mood, as Èowyn would describe it in later years. With Èomer in the middle and his arms around his friends' shoulders they went in a definitely not straight line singing and joking. A lot of people stared at them, some with laughter in their eyes, a lot with anger in theirs.
His little sister led the way. Initially, she would turn around and look at them: laughed and hooted at how idiotic they behaved. As the time passed, however, and they made no progress, she grew quieter and meaner, her face bored and then exasperated.
Who would have thought that his little sister would join him for a friends' night out? Who would have thought that his little sister would have her first drink with him? Who would have thought that his little sister would have sampled all the mead? Who would have thought that she would end soberer than him?
Horror seized his drunken mind. Èomer was now in his room; Èothain and Èowyn helped him go to bed. He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer.
"How is it even possible!" He stammered. "You had your first drink and you are so... Sober!"
Èowyn raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that this was my first time drinking?"
Her laughter accompanied him to a slumber which thankfully numbed his aching senses.
####
The morning sun rays woke him up. They were bright and hot and landing directly on his face. Groggily, Èomer turn to his other side, a strategic move, which would reduce the impact of the rays.
"No, sleepy head, wake up!" A way too cheery voice called. His little sister's voice drummed into his head. Why was it so painful to wake up?
Oh, they had drunk last night.
Èowyn pulled back his bed covers and opened the window. The chill morning air caused him to rise in search for the blankets' warmth. Once he retrieved them, he sat back onto his bed.
"How do you feel?" Èowyn asked. "I brought you breakfast". She placed in front of him a mix of meat, cheese, bread and milk.
"Like a dwarf is hammering away in my head" this was not an understatement; he was going to nurse a horrible hungover for the rest of the day. He took a bite of the food, which so kindly his sister provided. Too kindly. "Why did you bring me this?"
"I wanted to see how awful you looked today" she answered gleefully. "You didn't disappoint. You look to be in a dreadful state".
"You are way too happy about your brother's woos. Shouldn't you be sympathising?" He chewed his bread, while he assessed his little sister. She looked a little bit tired; they were in the town till late after all. Otherwise, she was her usual smug self. "How come it be that you are not in the same condition". A horrifying memory caused him to drop his bread back on the plate. "You said it was not your first drink!"
"Nope"
"But how! With whom, when?" He was ready to get out of bed and kick anyone who dared feed his little sister alcohol, but his head swam and his stomach complained, so he had to sit back down.
She laughed. "Do not be silly! What are you going to do? Challenge uncle to a duel? I guess that would be treason, my dear brother..."
"Uncle?" He felt quite stupid today or she just made no sense.
Èowyn shrugged her shoulders, picked up a few strands of her hair and begun braiding them absentmindedly. "Uncle allows me to have a drink or two, if you must know. I can often have a cup of mead or cider with dinner".
Oh, that made sense. He let a sigh escape his lips. He was stupid today, it seemed.
Èowyn patted him on the head and moved towards the door. Once there, with the door half open, she turned around to face him. "Besides, it seems that between the two of us, I was not the one who looked like I had my first drink last night".
She ducked out of the room to avoid the pillow he threw at her.
####
"You look better, Èomer" Èothain's voice was a bit too loud for him today, but not as irritating as he had feared. Most of the hungover was gone, even though he was not in peak physical condition.
And yet, they had to prepare to leave the capital. Èomer looked around and noticed that most of his friends looked to be in various stages of hungover. If the superior officers had noticed it, they had decided not to comment on it.
"You look fairly cheerful, today". Èomer was saddling his horse.
"of course! I had so much fun last night!" Something on his tone caused Èomer to turn around and observe his friend. Mirth had turned the corner of his mouth upwards, and glee was in his eyes.
Èomer narrowed his eyes, once again today. "Did you have fun while taking care of me, my friend?"
"Of course! We had a good laugh with Èowyn!" He chuckled and mounted his horse. "We could not have hoped for a better outcome!" Suddenly, he bit his lip as when he felt he had said too much. He urged his horse forward and Èomer had to follow him on his own horse.
"What do you mean?"
"What?"
"We could not have hoped for better outcome" he imitated Èothain's cheery voice. "What had you planned, Èothain?"
For a moment, he seemed to debate whether to tell Èomer or to let him stew with curiosity and a bad hungover. In the end, the usual bragging part of him prevailed and explained. "I had stopped giving Èowyn drinks after the second round. She was a bit upset in the beginning but then I mentioned that you would not know... And then she mentioned how funny it would be if you thought she was sober, while she had as much as you... Oh your face when all clicked into place! It was worth the pain to drag you up the palace stairs!"
Èothain's laughter drew the attention of other members of the group, who looked at them ready to inquire about the joke. It was perfect timing that Elfhelm decided to call for them to start their journey as Èomer's face had turned red.
But fear not, I will take revenge! He promised himself and his headache felt a little bit better.
AN: Eowyn is right about her age; Eomer, as a proper older sibling, always thinks she is way younger than she is.