So, you have returned...
Chapter II: Early Childhood
'Eomer! Where did that boy go?' his father wondered aloud, looking under his child's bed and finding naught. He then remembered to check under his own bed- yet his search yielded nothing. They may have added a new room to their house, but it still did not hold many hiding places. Now his mind began to worry.
'Eomer!' he shouted a little louder. There was no reply. Eomund started to jog up the worn path, searching for his son. He had only lost sight of him for a minute! He is probably with Meomyn, the anxious warrior thought hopefully. But there was no Eomer at the home of Gildred. He asked Meomyn if Eomer were out with her grandchildren, but she and Meorwyn were making lunch alone. Eomund gave up searching on foot and headed to the stable. He would ride Frostfoot into Mordor if he had to, for he would not lose his only son. His heart began to pound and he broke into a sprint, reaching the stable in a few seconds. He came to the stall of Frostfoot only to find that the boy had been there the whole time.
'Eomer! There you are! What are you doing? A stable is no place for a boy of three years,' Eomund scorned his son. 'To think what your mother would have done if she saw you in here alone! I do not wish to imagine it. You are coming home.' He grabbed his son's tiny body and pulled him into his arms, trying to keep his own temper in check.
'Horse! Horse!' Eomer pointed at Frostfoot and squirmed in his father's arms. 'I want horse!'
'You are much too small to ride a horse,' Eomund said, nonetheless proud of his son's love of the great steeds.
'Horse!' Eomer screamed as his father walked away from the stable. 'Please horse horse horse!'
'Well, you did say please,' Eomund conceded, for he dearly wished to ride. Afterall, Eomer had to learn at some point in his life. 'Alright, we can ride the horse together.'
As he turned and walked back up the hill to the stable, the boy in his arms squealed with delight and repeated the word 'horse' over and over until they reached Frostfoot's stall.
Eomund placed his son on the saddle and mounted himself. As they trotted along down the hill, Eomund realized the hair of his gelding and his son nearly matched in fairness of color. Reaching the bottom of the incline, he slowed Frostfoot to a walk and the two rode along the path that stretched through their little village, from the stable to the gate. Eomund noticed his son's amazement with the beast they rode and began to explain all about the companionship between rider and horse. He told Eomer that someday he would have his own horse that he could ride any time he wanted, but that he must take special care and put the animal's needs even before his own.
'Meorwyn!' Eomer shouted gleefully as they came riding past the house of Gildred. A little strawberry-blonde girl came running out of her abode with her grandmother trailing behind holding cloth and rope. 'Meorwyn, I can ride horse!'
'Gramuh! Gramuh, I want to ride horse!' the small girl whined.
'Meorwyn, you are not yet old enough to ride a horse. You are too small. You shall learn to ride in the years to come,' Meomyn explained softly to her youngest granddaughter.
'But I want horse now,' Meorwyn grumbled.
This last comment was ignored, as Meomyn had succeeded in calming her. At that time, Meomyn's only grandson had come racing around a corner of the house, followed by two girls that could only be his sisters. They had obviously not expected two adults to be waiting out in front of the door, for their expressions conveyed complete shock and slight embarrassment.
'We were just walking, er, walking down to your homestead, Eomund sir,' the boy said, stumbling over his words.
'Were you, Gildreon? And what would you want in my house?' the intimidating man asked coolly. His wife's mother-sister stood in wait, smiling secretly, and awaiting her grandson's response.
'We, er, we wanted to know when the lady Theodwyn would be coming back,' Gildreon said, hoping to distract Eomund from himself. The twins behind him nodded their reddish heads while studying the ground.
'Well the lady will be here when she is here,' Eomund said impatiently. He longed to see his wife again, and wished she would return from Edoras soon.
'Is she expected to be much longer?' Meomyn asked, turning from the children to the rider. They took this as their cue to walk slowly out of sight and continue with their game. However, when Meorwyn tried to follow, her grandmother held tight to the back of her dress so that she could not get away.
'It has been nearly a week, so I expect she will return within a few more days,' Eomund assured the woman. 'She has never been one for great halls.'
...
Theodwyn watched her brother-son with apprehension as he battled his comrade. The wooden practice swords clashed in the air as Theodred made the advance. She smiled, knowing the battle was coming to a close. Sure enough, as the other boy swiped at Theodred's knees, she saw his opportunity and watched with pride as he took it. With the wood at his neck, the opposing boy dropped his sword, and Theodred plucked it from the ground. The future king gleefully offered the handle to his challenger, who took it grudgingly. The young men bowed to one another and retreated to the spectators.
'That was good swordplay,' Theodwyn told her brother-son.
'Many thanks, my lady,' Theodred replied, bowing his sandy head. When he looked next, however, her eyes were downcast: 'What ails you, Theodwyn?'
'Nothing. You did wonderfully,' she said, quickly smiling. 'I think I will visit my brother, if he is not too busy. Farewell, Theodred!' She waved and turned toward Meduseld to see the king.
The sparring ground was located downhill and to the left of the Golden Hall's front door. A wooden fence surrounded the large patch of dirt the eorlingas called the herefeld. It is in this arena that the youth of Edoras learn to fight, until they are old enough to join an eored. As Prince of the Mark, Theodred spent all his time in Edoras learning about the king's duties. He would not join the army until the late age of twenty-two. In twenty years of learning, the nobility of the Riddermark are expected to know enough to lead the kingdom. The future kings are also meant to be married, or at least betrothed, by this time. This rule had not been carefully guarded for several generations, however, and most have forgotten it. The small barn beside the herefeld holds mostly wooden equipment for the future soldiers and bowls of water for heated days. On those days that the sun does not shine, the herefeld becomes a mud-field, and the children are allowed to enjoy the art of becoming extremely dirty.
As Theodwyn walked up the steep slope, she noticed the sun beaming from behind her, and longed to see her son and husband again. I should return to my family. Who knows what trouble they are getting into without me! she thought, and smiled to herself. Now that I have been away this long, Eomund probably has Eomer riding a foal.
The guards opened the doors as she approached, meaning the king was available. When she stepped through them, she was amazed, as always, by the beautiful pillars and tapestries hanging from the walls. She saw the banner of her adopted village, Banwyrte. It was dark green, trimmed in gold, and had the head of a white horse in the middle of its long body. It sat behind the king's throne, all the way to the left. She wished to be home at once.
Looking around for her brother, she caught a glimpse of the hall floor and was blinded by its beauty. The stones were of many different colors and trailed off in different directions. The seemingly random colors and designs came together in a beautiful pattern on the floor, which she had never noticed in the days of her youth. Now that she had decided to leave the hall, it seemed determined to impress her.
She turned around to get a better view of the stone work, when she at last found the king. He was standing near the northern wall, looking out of one of the small, lower windows. Most of the light streamed through windows in the upper portions of the walls. She moved toward her brother, careful not to disturb his thoughts, and searched outside the window for what he saw. When she could see nothing but green country, she sighed disappointedly.
'And how fare thee, young sister?' Theoden King asked, without looking around.
'I fare well, or as well as is possible alone,' she replied, quite used to her brother's uncanny ability to feel her presence.
Now he turned, for he was unsure of her dismal tone.
'Alone? We are finally together! Tell me, why should you feel lonely?' the king asked in earnest.
'Why do you look out the window?' she asked, already knowing the answer. Theoden's smile faded.
'The breeze carrying the scent of dry grass. The wildflowers growing on the plains. It all reminds me of her,' he replied, looking out at the land again, but not seeing it. 'You miss Eomund.'
'Aye, but also my son. I worry for them, wandering around all day with nothing to do does not bode well for Eomund's mind. The lands near Banwyrte have been safe from orcs for many years, which leaves little for my warrior to do. He grows restless. Any day I expect to hear them riding through Edoras just to see me. I need to return to my family, Theoden,' she pleaded. He had to understand what she was feeling.
'Aye, you should. I have benefitted much from your visit, beloved sister. I wonder why you do not move closer within my grasp, so that I may see you more than once a year. And Theodred needs a strong couple to set store by if he ever plans to settle into marriage,' the king hinted, a slight annoyance in his voice due to his son's dragging feet.
'Your evidence is compelling, Great King. I will take your suggestion to my heart and my husband,' she curtsied as she spoke. When she arose, Theoden embraced her.
'Until we meet again, dear sister,' he said with a kiss to her forehead. 'I wish you safe travels.'
'Many thanks, brother. Perhaps next time you will meet your sister-son,' she said.
'I wish it to be so,' he said. 'Be sure to bid farewell to Theodred. He is very fond of you.'
She nodded her blonde tresses. 'Farewell!' she said as she turned out of the Golden Hall.
She strode down the steps and back toward the herefeld. Theodwyn thought long and hard about the King's offer. Eomund would not leave Banwyrte easily. He loved that little village, with its gentle, rolling hills and spring-time flowers. Banwyrte is a beautiful place, but Theodwyn had felt more drawn to her brother since the birth of her son. Surely she could concoct a plan to convince Eomund to move. Perhaps not into Edoras itself, but at least to a neighboring city.
'Theodred, mighty warrior!' she hailed him gleefully, waving her arm gently through the air. He turned and smiled, waving back enthusiastically. Having just finished with his sparring for the day, he changed into a clean shirt and jogged toward the lines of houses where she awaited him. He would grow into a fine man, she thought: a king to be remembered.
The pain of never having met his mother, and feeling responsible for her death, could have turned his mind to evil, but Theodred was ever kind and generous. He cared for the people of his land and, judging by his enthusiasm today, will protect them to the best of his ability. She could only hope the power would not go to his head, as it had to his great-grandfather's.
Fengel, Theodwyn's grandfather, was known for his greed and love of gold. Thankfully, Thengel disagreed with his father and left the Mark to live with his mother's family in Minas Tirith. It was in this city that he met Morwen Steelsheen, his future wife. Incidentally his comrade had somehow met her sister, Meomyn, who gladly followed the man back to his hometown of Banwyrte. Thus, Theodwyn had met her own husband.
Intriguing it was to see how the world brought people together. Again, her heart burned to see her husband, but her thoughts were interrupted by the smell of sweat and dirt emanating from her brother-son. She opened her eyes (though she did not remember shutting them) and saw him standing a few paces away, watching her with his head tilted slightly to the left. His unusually light eyes asked the question.
'I was just thinking of my family,' she said, a bit embarrassed.
'You miss them?' he asked, expelling the awkward feeling. That uncanny ability was something she loved about Theodred.
'Aye,' she sighed.
'Then you are leaving us?' he asked quietly.
'Aye, but not for long,' she said with an unconvincing smile. She really had no inkling of when she might see him again.
'Then I shall eagerly await your return,' he said. 'Perhaps I can meet my cousin on your next visit.'
'I certainly hope so. In fact, I have been speaking with your father, and he has urged me to live nearer Edoras. I am going home to convince Eomund it is a good idea,' she explained.
'Ah, then I wish you all the luck in the Mark, father-sister!' he said with a knowing grin. He had met Eomund near six years ago, when Theodwyn had wed her husband. Eomund might have drunk a little more mead than was usual among the nobility of the Riddermark and made his disapproval of the lack of soldiers near Banwyrte quite plain to the king's son. Luckily, Theoden was not present at the time, and Theodred had enough sense not to repeat it.
'Many thanks, for I will need it,' she smiled, remembering the same occasion as though it were decades before now. Theodred had grown so much since then, both in body and mind.
'You have become a fine young man, Theodred,' she said. The teenager blushed furiously.
'Aye, so I have heard,' he mumbled self-consciously.
Theodwyn cocked an eyebrow, 'From whom, may I ask?'
'A few maidens, here and there,' he said, trying to sound casual.
'I see. You just make sure you behave yourself. I wouldn't want to be there if you had to tell your father about an unexpected engagement,' she said, half stern and half jesting. Theodred's eyes went as round as saucers.
'I would never dream of it! Besides, I have no prospects either way,' he assured her.
'What can you mean? You just told me that all the maidens yearn for you,' Theodwyn countered.
The boy sighed, 'Yet none have my heart, Theodwyn. I know that I have a duty to wed and bring forth heirs, but I worry that I will never find the right woman.'
'My dear brother-son, you are too young to bear such thoughts! I did not find a man to my liking until I had traveled for some years. That is, not enough to marry him,' she added with a reminiscent grin.
'And yet I love Edoras. Father takes me to Gondor every few years, but it holds no sway over me. Nay, I do not wish to travel much,' he told her. Theodwyn considered their conversation carefully, wondering about her brother-son.
'Theodred, do you have any desire to marry, or do you only feel that it is your duty?'
The boy thought for awhile before answering, 'I cannot say. Perhaps the right woman would inspire me to wed.'
'Perhaps,' she nodded in return, 'but perhaps you are not suited to it. Duty to your people is important, but forget not your duty to yourself. And do not let your father dictate your life too closely,' she added with a mischievous grin.
'As always, your wisdom humbles me, my lady,' he grinned back.
'Then listen to it,' she said, pinching his cheek playfully.
'I shall,' he promised, giving her a parting hug. She kissed his forehead in farewell, and walked to the stables. He watched her go and considered her suggestion of travel. There will be plenty enough time to travel with the eored, once I join their ranks, he thought. Maybe he would find a wife then.
...
Eomer watched his mother riding into town. His father had gone away. For food. His mother was on a horse. Eomer liked horses. Horses were big and he could ride one. Horses were "dangerous". Eomer liked horses. His mother came closer and saw him. Her horse started coming faster. Eomer watched the horse's feet. They moved very fast. They were very loud. Very loud. Eomer turned, ran back inside, and waited. The horse was too fast and too loud. Eomer heard his mother calling him and he knew he was safe from the scary horse feet.
'Mumuh!' he cried as he ran into her arms.
'Where is your Papuh?' she asked him, appreciating his deep blue eyes.
'He left for food,' Eomer said loudly. Eomer loved his mother. 'Where were you, Mumuh?'
'I had gone to visit King Theoden, remember?'
Eomer nodded. He had never seen the king and he did not want to. Unless he could ride a horse to see him. Then he would like it.
'Mumuh, Mumuh, I ride horse now!' Eomer said excitedly.
'You can ride a horse? Well you are accomplished now, are you not?' his mother said. She wished Eomund would return from hunting soon. Incredibly, no sooner had she wished it than it came true. She heard the hoofs thundering from behind and turned to see her husband riding nearer with every gallop of Frostfoot. When he leaped down, the spouses embraced.
'Come, I have a surprise for you,' the man told his wife.
Leaving their son with Meomyn, the two headed off the path on the back of Frostfoot. Theodwyn noticed that the horse was packed with food and blankets. As she opened her mouth to ask where they were going, she recognized the hill ahead. Flowermound, the townspeople called it: the place they had met.
They rode along in silence, each enjoying the company of the other. When they at last reached the summit, the sun was low in the sky. The quilt was arranged, the meal was cooked and eaten. They laid down and watched the sun set behind the many hills of the country. The beauty reminded Theodwyn of her promise to ask her husband about moving closer to Edoras. She eyed him nervously, afraid of what he would say. She worried he would think it unwise to move when they had just gotten comfortable with having a child in the house. And would he not be right to think so? But I told Theoden I would mention his idea. Who am I to break my word to our king?
'Eomund?'
'Aye?' He turned and, seeing her tense face, said, 'There is not to be another babe, is there?'
'Nay, but I have tidings of a different sort,' Theodwyn laughed. 'This comes from the king.'
'And how goes the kingdom? I trust Theoden has few troubles in the Mark,' Eomund said coolly. It was Eomund son of Eomar, not Theoden King, who had kept this village safe from the murderous orcs. Nor could he understand how Theoden could allow his beloved sister to live so far away from the chief city.
She bit her lip. It was precisely these comments that made Theodwyn wary of mentioning her brother. She knew that Eomund thought little of the king's military action. If it were up to him, a full Muster would undoubtedly be at the Black Gates of Mordor by now.
But she continued, 'Aye, days are peaceful in the Mark.' This was not the right phrase.
'Peaceful? Are Orc raids peaceful now? I am sure Theoden believes in the peace of the land, but his eyes are closed and he goes by his heart's wish alone,' Eomund growled.
'Well if he does such poor work, why do you not join the Muster and save him the trouble of deciding what is peace and what is war?' Theodwyn retorted.
'Aye, I would if it were not for you and our son,' he said. Theodwyn saw her opportunity, and, raising her head, took it.
'And what if we came with you? What if we lived nearer the chief city? You could join their ranks. Perhaps even become Chief Marshal of the Riddermark,' she said quickly.
He sat up and thought for a moment before answering: 'Chief Marshal? Nay, your brother would not stand for it.'
'It may surprise you to hear that he does not hate you, though you hate him,' Theodwyn quipped.
'I do not hate the man. I simply think that-.'
'I know what you think, Eomund of Aldburg,' she snapped angrily.
Eomund knew he was in trouble now.
'Darling, I-' he began.
'Say naught, unless you intend to pain me further, dear husband.'
Eomund's breath caught in his throat. Her abruptness surprised him, and though he tried to keep it at bay, his temper was rising. Why won't she listen to him?
He opened his mouth, remembered her last words to him, and closed it again. He exhaled through his nose and considered his next move. His wife was facing away from their village, looking back towards the city from whence she arrived that day. He reached for her hand, and she turned back to face him. Tears were brimming in her eyes.
His temper faded immediately, for the daughter of Morwen Steelsheen did not weep needlessly.
'Blostma,' he whispered gently.
She smiled softly and framed his face with her free hand.
'I am sorry, I treated you unfairly,' she whispered back.
He shook his head and leaned nearer to his wife.
'I apologize. I should not dishonor your family. Your brother is my brother, whether I agree with his decisions or not.'
'That is why he needs someone like you from a smaller village to make him see the dangers of the realm,' she said in her normal voice, the tears now vacant from her visage.
'That is not my only concern,' Eomund grumbled.
'Is it not? What other concerns have you?' she asked genuinely.
The man sighed and considered his words carefully.
'You only see the king once a year. Does he not wish to keep you closer, to watch over his younger sister and her family?' An edge had crept into his voice as he spoke.
'You mean that you no longer want to live here?' Theodwyn's eyes were wide.
'It is not that I don't want to live in Banwyrte, for I know that this place holds a special meaning to the both of us. However, we are many days' travel from Edoras and the safety that a large city would offer,' he tried to explain calmly.
His wife's face suddenly changed, as though she were trying to hide a grin.
'Oh, my dear Eomund,' she said at last, throwing her arms around him.
'What is it, woman?' he asked in alarm. She pulled her head back to look him full in the face.
'You are absolutely correct! Let us leave behind this village of our youth and set out on a new adventure!' She giggled in mirth and kissed him.
He pulled away for a moment, caught off guard by her whole-hearted approval.
'Are you certain-? Bah, leave it,' he replied and, sweeping her into his arms, kissed her again before lying back down onto the soft, black quilt below them. His beautiful wife would be the source of his affection for a whole night, without the distractions of Eomer or neighbors. They were alone together, in a great field of grass, with only the stars to keep them company under the deep blue blanket laid atop the world.
In the early morning light, Eomund stirred and tried to remember where he was. Are the Dunlendings hiding in the distant trees? He heard a rustle from behind and quickly turned toward the noise, only to find his wife preparing breakfast. Now he remembered why he awoke in the wilderness. He moved to stand, but his back ached from the hard ground. Am I so weak? I have grown feeble in these few years of settlement. Still, he missed his straw bed and the shelter provided by a roof.
'Happy morn,' Theodwyn sang.
'Aye,' Eomund replied moodily. His back disagreed with her cheery demeanor.
'It is lucky we left some food for today. I am famished and simply could not go on without a fair amount of sustenance,' she carried on, ignoring his less than glorious acknowledgment.
Eomund grunted.
'I suppose we should return after we eat and rescue Meomyn from our son,' Theodwyn carried on. Having now been awake long enough, Eomund began speaking in sentences.
'Aye, they are a kind folk in that house. But we should not burden them with five children to oversee,' he agreed.
...
The time to leave had come. Theodwyn and Eomund had spent the last several months deciding which city to live in and subsequently looking for a house big enough for four. Not long after their night on the hilltop, Theodwyn had discovered that she was expecting. This revelation spurred the couple on, yet made it increasingly more difficult for the wife to help her husband. The two had landed on going back to Eomund's town of origin, as he still had a few loyal friends living there. Luckily, Meomyn knew a good midwife who lived in Aldburg already. Furthermore, a home near the gate had just been vacated the past year. With all the stars aligned, the little family was finally ready to set out to the city by the mountains.
Theodwyn was not expected to bear their child for another two months, but they did feel the need to be settled in before the bairn became the center of their lives. The journey was difficult for her, but through a combination of riding, walking, and many respites, the family traversed the leagues between cities with minimal difficulties. When they reached their destination, Eomund knew in his heart that the right decision had been made. He was home.
.
.
.