Author's Note:
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Morwen
She rocked the cradle gently to and fro, humming softly under her breath. Théodren's eyes fluttered close. He fought his sleep for nearly an hour, she thought in amusement. But he was nearly lost. His eyes snapped wide open and the infant of barely six months gave a loud, irritated wail.
"Oh, shush, shush," she crooned. She rested her free hand on her son's small chest. "Shush, the son of my beloved. Do not cry." The babe quietened almost instantly. Fire crackled in the hearth, warding off winter cold. She was garbed in russet raiment, shrouded in a wide mantle to keep her warm. Her son was swaddled in blankets. "Your mother is here, my little one."
Théoden's fingers of both hands curled around her long and slender hand. His blue eyes met hers curiously. She smiled tenderly down at her son.
"Someday you will grow big and strong. You will ride out on the green, grassy plains atop your large, wild horse and strike down many a foe. You will protect your people from harm and you will gather them under one flag. I know it in my heart. Valar give me strength. I am to grow a king." She laughed lightly.
"But first, my son, you must sleep."
