No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: SI!as-a-Rohan-Shieldmaiden. With very generous sprinkling of Hunky!Éomer. No need to thank me. (;
So, this is yet another thing that I started writing earlier this year. It's mostly based on the movies, fair warning.
Also, I tend to update very irregularly.
Please enjoy.
PS: I'm not a native English speaker, so please excuse my mistakes.
-1-
"Mildred Milburgasdóttir! What in the name of Béma do you think you're doing?" Hilda, a woman of some thirty-five summers, shouted, waving her fist threateningly at a young woman.
Said young woman hastily separated from the equally young man she'd been caught kissing in the usually abandoned corridor. (Usually being the more important word here.)
The two could not have been older than fourteen, perhaps fifteen summers.
"And you! Éomer Éomundsson! Don't think I never notice who instigates these- these highly unseemly displays at least half the time," Hilda continued in the same strident tone, hurrying over to them like the aging battle-axe she was. "This is enough. Beyond enough. Your father shall hear about this! And your mother-brother as well, my Lord Éomer, mark my words!"
She reached for their ears, but only managed to grab their arms. Not hesitating, or stopping to think, Hilda dragged the two miscreants before the Lord of this household.
Éomer and Mildred exchanged a quick look, but neither showed any signs of embarrassment at being caught in the act, so to speak, once again.
There were no red cheeks or wide eyes. Not even a tiny hint of remorse in averted glances or fidgeting children. (Because that's what they were to everyone, most especially to the woman who was manhandling them currently.)
Hilda's temper boiled over, or perhaps continued to boil over.
In any case, she kept muttering dire threats under her breath, most of them centered around the male anatomy and the female idiocy at allowing this improper behavior. Or even going so far as instigating it!
Mildred was biting her lips to keep from laughing out loud, not daring to tweak Hilda's nose even further. The poor woman would explode and where would Baldhelm and all the others be then?
Their mother could certainly not keep watch of seven children, soon to be eight. She had the oversight of the halls, meaning she was not only busy carrying as many children for her lord and husband as she could, but also burdened with the responsibility of making sure that everything was in order. That everyone had something to eat, to sleep on, and was contributing to the running of the hall.
Mildred knew first hand how much work that was, and her only regret about this entire situation was that her mother would be torn from her duties for the impending scolding.
Éomer sent her a small, encouraging smile.
Meanwhile, Hilda glowered at the guards stationed in front of their commander's door and they hastily jumped out of the way of the irate nurse.
Mildred suppressed a fond smile. Despite everything, she admired her former minder.
Only Hilda would dare to barge in on their lord while he was working in his study.
And people always wondered where Mildred got it from?
"My Lord Baldwig," Hilda curtsied dutifully, still somehow holding on to her two charges.
"Hilda," the man sighed resignedly, "where did you catch them this time?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Mildred watched as Éomer stiffened up, the metaphorical shutters coming down, covering his expression once again.
"In one of the old corridors," the nurse almost hissed, glaring darkly at the two delinquents.
Lord Baldwig sighed. Heavily.
By now, everyone concerned was familiar with this game.
Hilda dragged either one or both of the teenagers before her lord and master, who sighed and waited for his wife to be informed.
Once Lady Milburga knew about the situation, she'd appear as quickly as possible, scold the children, most especially her daughter, and set them some sort of punishment, which would be confirmed by Lord Baldwig.
Afterward, Lady Milburga would return to her duties as quickly as possible, leaving the rest of them to their own devices.
In the meantime, Lord Baldwig would sigh a lot, but ultimately left the decision-making to his wife, seeing as this supposedly fell under her purview.
Éomer would look as stoic as possible, complete his punishment without complaining, and still spend as much time with Mildred as her parents allowed.
Mildred knew she'd be ordered to help out the healers, such as they were, with the few injured and ailing who required some medicine or another. If the infraction was deemed quite reprehensible, she'd end up also spending a lot of time with her father-mother, who wasn't quite the gift to humanity she'd always considered herself to be.
Then, Hilda would grumble that the lord and lady let them off much too easily and vanish back to the nursery, where, no doubt, one or another of Mildred's sizable brood of siblings required her help.
However, this time, things appeared to be different.
Hilda was still fuming, as usual, but there was a note of seriousness in her voice when she added to her report: "Please forgive me, my Lord, but unless you separate these two today, at least the Lady Mildred will soon be considered unsuitable for marriage."
Éomer and Mildred exchanged a quick look.
This was new.
They'd both made sure never to go too far; to cross that line of no return. Neither wanted to destroy the other's reputation and good name.
Apparently, somehow, they'd still managed it anyway. At least in Hilda's eyes.
Although, how exactly they'd come to this point remained unclear to Mildred. Considering they'd both been just kissing - all hands had remained visible and in innocuous enough places.
Well. Éomer's had been wrapped loosely around her waist and she'd had hers around his neck, but still.
And maybe the kisses had grown a bit heated. Just a little bit, though.
Mildred sighed inwardly, hoping that her lips had lost some of the swelling.
Éomer's still seemed a bit red.
Before Lord Baldwig could say anything though, the door opened, revealing his pregnant wife.
Lady Milburga took one look at the two teenager's lips, Hilda's dark expression, her husband's frown, and sighed herself.
"Sit down, please," Lord Baldwig said, offering her his chair. (It was the most comfortable one in the entire building.)
So, the lady of the house sat.
"They've finally gone too far?" Lady Milburga asked Hilda.
"Yes, m'lady."
"Oh, dear," the woman said, frowning slightly at her daughter. "Oh, dear."
"I shall inform Théoden King of the happenings here. His must be the last word."
Husband and wife stared long and hard at each other.
"Do as you think is best, my Lord. But hear this: I believe it would be best for all involved if Mildred and Lord Éomer were promised to each other, bound by their own bond."
"They are still full young, my Lady!" Lord Baldwig protested, beginning to pace, and ran a hand through his wavy blond hair.
He always swore that all the streaks of gray were due to Mildred and her antics.
Lady Milburga shook her head, red hair swishing over her shoulders. "No, they are no longer protected by their years, few though they may be, my lord husband. Both of them have seen fourteen summers and received their first blessing from the wise woman. Lord Éomer has had to start shaving more than two moons passed and our daughter is growing into a beautiful young lady. No, they must be promised to each other or one of them must leave."
Resounding silence filled the room.
Lord Baldwig's eyes roamed over their faces, down to their hands.
Because of the way Hilda was still holding on to them, their respective wrists were exposed.
The blue horse galloping over Éomer's skin on his right hand matched the red band with stylized horses around her left wrist. The one every girl received after her first moon blood.
Mildred glared at Éomer when he made to step forward, to take all the blame on his shoulders, no doubt. Probably offering to be sent back to Edoras as soon as possible, too, while he was at it.
Not happening. Not on her watch.
"I shall leave then," she said calmly, stubbornly holding her head high. "Lord Éomer must be taught what my Lord Father has to teach and I can learn my duties from any Lady worth her salt residing in the Mark."
Lord Baldwig stopped pacing at her first words, staring at his oldest daughter as if he'd never quite seen her before.
Hilda's shoulders relaxed a bit, and there was pride glinting in the woman's eyes as she glanced at her former charge.
However, while Éomer's face had become even more unreadable, he was shaking his head openly in denial. "Do not send your daughter away, please, my Lord and Lady. If anyone, as the elder of us two, I should bear the brunt of the responsibility and punishment."
Mildred suppressed another sigh and the urge to roll her eyes, wondering if he'd ever let anyone take care of him.
Meanwhile, Lady Milburga sent her husband a telling look, some of the tension leaving her form as well. One of her hands now cradled her distended belly, where youmger sibling number six dwelled. For now.
Lord Baldwig sighed, as he was wont to do. Rubbing a hand over the bridge of his nose, the man began pacing once more.
"I see," he muttered eventually, stopping in front of both children. "I've done you a disservice, dearest one."
Mildred calmly met his eyes, one side of her mouth quirked up into a smile. "As have I, Father."
He chuckled, despite the situation.
"Very well. I know how to proceed now. For the time being, Mildred, you're confined to the nursery, your room, and wherever your lady mother or Hilda happen to be. If they ask you to help out in the healing room, then you do so. You're not allowed to leave their presence, unless another suitable chaperone accompanies you wherever it is you wish to go. You are not allowed to be in my squire's company without at least either Hilda, your lady mother, or my own self being present as well. Do you understand?"
Mildred nodded. "Yes, Father. I understand."
"Good girl," Lord Baldwig praised - with a warm smile for his oldest daughter.
Then, he turned to the other guilty party. "Éomer, you are quick-witted and fulfill your duties efficiently and competently, never once heard complaining. You are well on your way to becoming a Rider of the Mark in your own right, perhaps even a Marshal once a few more years pass. The other squires and even my own sons trust you with their concerns and happily follow your leadership. However, in this, I do not wish for any of them to follow your example. I hope you understand that I must insist on you respecting this separation of the both of you for the time being, although you may continue seeing and speaking to each other in the Great Hall at mealtimes."
Éomer bowed his acquiescence. "Yes, my Lord, I understand."
"Now, I shall send a messenger to Théoden King with news of this latest incident. Ultimately, he shall decide whether or not my proposal of a betrothal between the two of you is to his liking or not. Prepare yourselves for both outcomes."
Both teenagers nodded quietly.
"Very well. Hilda, please take Mildred with you to the nursery. Éomer, join the grooms in the stables. I'm sure there's enough work to be found there to occupy you for the rest of the day."
With that, they were dismissed.
Edoras, Meduseld, after breakfast
Théoden had barely finished eating and washing his hands when an exhausted looking man was brought to him.
"My Lord, this man says he has an urgent message from Lord Baldwig, concerning your nephew," Háma, one of his most trusted, explained.
Théoden motioned for the messenger to follow him, but told Háma: "Bring him some water and something to eat to my study."
The man nodded, then vanished. Presumably to do as he was bid.
Théoden led the way to his private study, wondering why he wasn't stricken with panic. Yet.
When he told the exhausted rider to sit in one of the few chairs, the man near collapsed into it. "Many thanks, Sire."
Instead of replying, the king hastily broke the wax seal and read through the missive his old childhood friend had penned in what looked like a great deal of hurry under a calm veneer.
My King, my friend,
please do not be troubled by the urgency of this missive - your Éomer is alive and well as I write this. His pride and his feelings might be bruised for the moment, but I have full confidence in their complete recovery.
It has come to my attention that we have had our eye on the wrong daughter of mine for his bride.
Hilda, my children's nurse, caught Éomer and my Mildred kissing in a secluded hallway once again - I will not bore you with the details, but both Hilda and my wife believe that soon Mildred's honor, at least, will be considered compromised - if it is not already.
I believe that neither of the children had any intentions to cross that mark, but it has happened.
Hilda brought them to me as soon as she found them, and it was deemed best for the children to be separated unless they were betrothed to each other and made to marry within a few years. Certainly younger than any of us expected.
Mildred already offered to leave if you wish it, so that Éomer can continue his apprenticeship under me. She tries to protect him, hoping to spare him some of the blame and embarrassment of being sent away with this hanging over their heads.
I believe it would hurt both of them deeply to be separated at this point, though it must be done - one way or another.
If for no other reason than to make sure there will not be serious consequences from their close bond.
How do you wish for me to proceed?
Your servant,
Baldwig Baldorsson
Théoden read and reread the letter several times, unsure if he should, nay, could believe its contents.
Éomer, his stoic, reserved sister-son, that Éomer - toying with the affections of a young girl? Being caught kissing her in so inappropriate a manner that her family nearly considered her honor compromised? Éomer?
Théoden still remembered when his sister-children arrived in Meduseld, after the death of their parents.
Éowyn, all of five summers, had been crying and fighting out her grief.
For a time, she had been the most obnoxious, trying person he had ever known - and he spent the chief of his hours dealing with trade agreements and counselors.
Théoden lost count of the times he'd been informed that his sister-daughter had gotten into yet another fist fight with one of the other children in Edoras, or that she'd returned with bruises and injured knuckles.
She reminded him a lot of his sister's husband - if Théoden were honest with himself.
However, Éomer had been a completely different foal.
Certainly, he'd gotten into the odd scuffle or two, but usually so as to get his sister out of them.
He'd refused to cry or show much of any emotion. Unless it was affection for both Éowyn and Théodred, or, eventually, the horse he'd been gifted with.
The control the boy had over his temper was a thing for the legends, in Théoden's not so humble opinion. He knew that his sister-son came by it honestly, that fire.
No, Éomer had preferred to listen quietly to the people around him, rather than boast about his own exploits, youthful though they may have been. He'd never shown off his blessings, never boasted to anyone of the extraordinary number he had already collected before even starting his fostering properly.
He'd always scrupulously adhered to every single rule imposed upon him. It went so far that his teachers asked for an audience to inquire whether Théoden thrashed him for every single infraction.
(He did not.)
And now this.
Théoden knew that Éomer never did anything without thinking it through to all possible ends, as he saw them.
If his sister-son had gotten caught kissing a girl in such a manner, he would have thought through all the consequences before acting. Even under the strain of the …excitement the discovery of maidens could evoke.
Éomer would not have kissed the girl in the first place without there being some sort of deep feeling beforehand.
Startled, Théoden reread the missive carefully one last time, allowing his thoughts to run their course.
He knew how to act.
"Take this letter and deliver it to your lord's hand," Théoden ordered the messenger the following morning, handing over a sealed letter.
The man had rested for the rest of the previous day and had been fed well. His horse had also been well taken care of, thus ensuring a swift return to the lands of Lord Baldwig.
Théoden was already looking forward to his old friend's reply.
The king watched the messenger ride off before the majority of Edoras had their breakfast, grinning under his beard.
Éowyn joined him, slipping her small hand into his much bigger, rougher one.
"Mother-brother, what happened to Éomer? I heard that a messenger came with news."
Théoden turned his amused face to his sister-daughter.
"Oh, our Éomer is only learning what it means to be a young man," he replied, still grinning. "Don't worry too much for him. He's quite the happy lad from what I've heard."
Éowyn cocked her head, sending him a questioning glance.
Théoden chuckled. "You will understand when you're grown enough to receive your own blessings."