Warrior Child of the Horse-Lords

"Into the caves! Now, hurry along!" With the rest of the women and children, a family of four clinging despairingly to one another moves through the dark opening. Inside, the mother and her three children huddle together on a boulder. The oldest child, a boy of twelve years name Eadbearn, stroked his sisters' head comfortingly. His father had been sent to fight. His mother Fetige was weeping and clutching her children to her.

Throughout the cave, soldiers milled about surveying arrangements. As one passed where the family sat, he paused, then turned to Eadbearn. "Come here, boy." Eadbearn, too unsure to respond, cowered towards Fetige.

Fetige spoke weakly, but fervently. "What do you want with my son?"

The soldier looked at her remorsefully and stepped forwards. "He's big enough to wield a sword. King's orders." A despairing wail rose from Fetige's throat as she embraced her son protectively.

"He's only a boy!" The soldier nodded soberly and set a heavy, gentle hand on Eadbearn's shoulder.

"I know. And he's big enough to fight. I'm sorry, truly, but it's the King's orders. Your boy wil do the best he can." The soldier bent and whispered in Eadbearn's ear, "Be strong for your mama, boy. Come along, now."

Eadbearn shook his head vigorously, ragged hair flying. "No!" The man pulled his away, his strong grip taking Eadbearn where he didn't want to go. "Mama!" He reached for her as he was puled out of her arms, grasping at her hand as she stretched out to him. An older woman, also weeping, Took Fetige's shoudler and pulled her into a strong, sympathetic embrace as Eadbearn's fingers slipped from her hands. "Mama!" Freya sobbed in to the older woman's shoulder as Eadbearn was led away, calling her name and crying.

He received a sword, heavy and cumbersome to his untrained hands. He watched Lord Aragorn with awe, the Elves with astonishment, and the approaching Uruk-hai with terror. He waited for the inescapable battle to come. He was all but frozen with fear, but he held out knowing that he would die defending his people. His sisters. His mother.

Blessings were thick upon Eadbearn that long, dreadful night, though his father was felled, dying an honorable death. Eadbearn, bleary-eyed and weary to the point of collapse, watched the coming of Gandalf and Eomer, and witnessed the end of the Battle of Helm's Deep.

A/N: I know this is really short, but it's the best I could do...