Replies to reviewers:

Crazy1 – Glad to have you checking back in. And thanks for confirming what I believe about crushes. There are some under 10 who get them, even if the norm is to be pre-teen or teen first (when the hormones and such kick in!). They don't necessarily understand what they are feeling and what it means, but the feelings are there all the same.

Blue Eyes At Night – "u must also (you knew this was coming) have a little ficlet about Elfwine's little bundle of joy! Can't let that escape :-)" – I haven't forgotten them! I realize there is quite a gap between Lost & Found and Acceptance. There are at least 2 more tales that need to go in between (asking Aragorn for her hand, and the first baby), but so far I haven't come up with any niggling ideas for plots to make them interesting! "Poor Eomer...first Eowyn now Theodwyn!" – You'd think he'd be better able to deal with Theodwyn after growing up with Eowyn, but he still seems as befuddled as ever!

Nienor Niniel – "I read them all (meaning the Chronicles)!" – Congratulations! That's no mean feat! Kind of funny that I'm at 39 when I only started out with 3 ideas for these, and didn't think I'd do much beyond that…

Jazzcat – "I'm glad you wrote all this from Theodwyn's POV." – lady scribe of avandell had mentioned wanting to see Freawine from Theodwyn's POV after getting Freawine's take on her in Catching Up, so I thought this was a good place to do it.

shie1dmaidenofrohan – "I have to admit that I find it hard to believe that Freawine could be 25, have been in an eored for several years, and not killed a man. Unless he was just busy killing orcs." – I know that seems a little odd, but my presumption is that this is some 25 years after the War of the Ring and that by now most of the Orcs have been gotten rid of and aside from a few skirmishes here and there, there's no real war going on in Rohan. Freawine has been in battle, and wounded others – he just doesn't happen to have killed anyone face to face like Theodwyn did. (He may have killed someone with a slash on his way to taking on the next foe and not seen the first guy die.) I always felt a little funny even having the Orc attack in Second Thoughts, wondering if they would still be that much of a problem 15 years after the War. That is why you will note they are attacked by thieves here (and is also the reason tighter security wasn't required for Theodwyn riding outside the city). Further note: I later changed the passage in question above so that it does not say Freawine has never killed a man.

Lady Anck-su-namun, Elwen of Lorien, Josie C – You weren't the only ones! Everyone seems to like Theodwyn! (Including me – she was great fun to write here.)

Chapter 2

I did not see Freawine for the next two days, and I found myself agitated because of it. I suspected he was staying away because of Father's wrath, but I longed to see him and speak with him. I had been more affected by the experience than I realized at the time, and I knew he would know how to console me. I had even written to Aunt Eowyn, telling her what had transpired, but I knew I could not expect a quick response.

When I could stand it no longer, I determined to seek him out the next day. I knew when his eored was in town and not on duty, that he made it a point to meet for sparring practice with Elfwine, so I headed for the sparring ring when I knew they would be about finished.

I had judged correctly and they had just ended their session when I arrived. Elfwine looked up and grinned at me. "If you have come to get me to practice with you, I am afraid Freawine has already tired me. Perhaps he still has the strength to fight you, though I would warn him against it since you are fresh!"

I made a face at my brother, but could not conceal a grin. "I did not come to spar. I know well that you married men are not up to the physical labor you once could do!"

I squealed and dashed quickly out of the way of the hand that grabbed for me. "Insolent! That is what you are! I leave her to you, Freawine. If you dare risk it, throw her in the stream. Maybe that will stop her mouth with its insults!" He laughed and waved farewell as he began the climb back up to Meduseld.

I turned to Freawine, who had said nothing since I arrived. I caught a strange expression on his face, that I did not understand, but he quickly concealed it and gave me a tired smile. As I looked at him, something stirred in my heart. I had never seen him looking so…discouraged. Was he troubled by the attack? By my father's anger? By something I had done?

I stood awkwardly, not sure what to say to him now that we were alone. He merely eyed me for a moment before turning toward the stream, and I followed along behind him. Once we reached it, I settled under a tree while he bent down to splash water over his head and chest to cool off. Then he stood and shook his head fiercely to rid himself of the water, like some large dog.

I squealed as some of the water hit me. "Careful where you fling that, my lord!" I laughed, wiping the splatters off my face. He smiled and came to sit near me, though he seemed tense.

My smile slipped a little, and I reached a hesitant hand toward his arm. "Freawine, is something wrong? Are you upset with me?"

His head jerked up at my last question. "No! Of course not. Why would you think that?"

"I have not seen you for several days. I thought perhaps…" I wasn't sure how to finish the sentence, so I let it trail off.

He seemed to struggle within himself to find words, and I could not imagine why he was so different. Finally, he managed only to explain, "I am not upset with you, but I thought it best to keep my distance for a while until your father calmed down. He was greatly displeased with me."

"It was not your fault!" I declared adamantly. "You were wonderful! And I am glad you were with me." Impulsively, I rose on my knees and flung my arms around his neck, resting my head on his.

I felt him tremble in my arms and looked down in surprise, just as he looked up at me. The look of longing in his eyes was nearly overwhelming, and my stomach lurched at the sight. Suddenly I was very aware of his nearness, the smell of his sweat, the green of his eyes, the water dripping from his hair.

When I was ten and had my eye on Haman, I'm not sure what it was that I felt. But this was something much different, much more powerful, and I felt it all through my entire being. Unconsciously my arms tightened around him, and before I realized what I was doing, I had lowered my mouth to his. I felt compelled to taste his lips, to drink him in. Part of me was certain he would push me away any instant, and display shock at my behavior, but I could not stop myself.

And then, slowly, his arms came around me, and pulled me down into his lap. I had never kissed a man before, but if this is what it is like, I am sorry I waited so long. His lips were achingly tender, and I felt bereft when he finally withdrew them. I felt like I could not draw breath in this wonderful dream where I floated.

Freawine was breathing heavily, as though he had run a race, and he leaned his head against mine, closing his eyes. "I should not have done that," he murmured, though to me or himself I could not tell.

I pulled slightly away, confused, to look at him with hurt in my countenance. "You did not. I kissed you. Did you…did you not like it? Did I do it wrong?" I was suddenly very aware of how young I must seem to him. He likely had kissed many girls who knew much more than I did, and I doubted he had regretted kissing them.

His arms tightened around me. "You did nothing wrong. The kiss was wonderful. But I do not wish to take advantage of you." He seemed to be struggling to hold back words, to not say everything that sprang to his lips.

Hastily I stood and moved away from him. At length I said, over my shoulder as he came to stand behind me, "You did not take advantage of me. And…and I am not sorry I did it." Abruptly, I turned to face him. "I do not know much of such matters, Freawine, but I have strong feelings for you. In fact, I think I may be falling in love with you."

I stopped, stunned by my audacity, and fearful of what his reaction would be. Surely, now, he would turn away. He would tell me he was too old for me and thought of me only as a sister. And then he would avoid being around me so as to spare my feelings. And I could not bear the thought of losing him, as a friend or as something more than a friend, and I began to weep.

His arms slipped around me and he pressed his lips to my head. "Shhhh. Do not weep, Theodwyn. Do not weep." His arms pulled me close against him and he held me in silence until my tears ended.

I looked up at him questioningly, and he tried to smile. "I have lost you, haven't I?" I asked with sorrowful eyes.

"No," he answered quietly, and firmly. "No. You have not lost me." He paused and considered a moment, then told me, "It is possible that what you are feeling for me is merely gratitude for my help the other day." He raised a hand to stifle my protest and continued, "I will always be your friend, Theodwyn. Nothing you say or do will change that. But do not confuse love and gratitude. Do not say you love me until you are sure that is what you are feeling."

I was bewildered by his words, and uncertain what he meant. But he moved out of the embrace and took my hand, leading me back toward home. He left me at the garden entrance, brushing his fingertips over my cheek before disappearing quickly down the street.

xxxxx

I did a great deal of thinking over the next few days. Though I saw Freawine several times, he seemed to make certain we were never alone together for any length of time. My reason told me that he wanted to give me time to sort out my feelings and come to understand what they truly were, but my heart yearned to be with him. I could not deny the terror of our ill-fated outing sometimes flashed into my mind unbidden, usually while I slept. I would awake with a start, in a cold sweat, until I recognized it for what it was. And I was grateful for Freawine having been there with me, for his steadiness, for his calm reassurance in the midst of my alarm. But I could not see a connection between those events, and my kissing him down by the stream.

How could I be certain it was love that I felt, and how could I convince him that it was? More importantly, I had realized only later that he had never spoken of his feelings for me. I knew we were friends and that he very much cared for and about me, but did he love me in return? Was his trying to convince me I only felt gratitude a gentle way of trying to dissuade me, because the feelings were not shared?

He had said he enjoyed the kiss, and I did not think he would lie about that. And he had responded to my advances – he had not pushed me away or resisted my embrace. But it had been my observation that men were more than willing to kiss any girl who would let them; they did not need to love her. Was that all that it was for Freawine? A pleasant kiss given freely by a pretty girl? Nevermind that she was a friend, just take what was given without argument?

No! I could not believe that of him. I could not accept that he would receive my kisses if he had no feelings for me. I could not think him so callous that he would let me admit my own feelings, and not gently tell me they were not shared, rather than let me make a fool of myself. He had held back, but he had not turned me away.

With that realization came a joy that flooded through me, until I thought it must start oozing out of my skin. I wanted to shout my happiness to the moon and dance in the sunlight. I had wanted to find someone who could love and accept me as I was, and he stood right before me the entire time!

Coming to understand that you are in love with someone, and finding a way to let them know, can be difficult, especially if they are trying not to be alone with you. Clearly, I needed to be more creative if I was to corner Freawine and tell him of my discovery.

Suddenly those annoying feasts became my ally. Another was scheduled, and I intended to make full use of Freawine's offer to dance 'the next' with me – the entire night, if need be! Even if I had to whisper my feelings to him on the dance floor, I was going to do it. I wanted him to know how I felt, and I wanted him to admit his own feelings...and I very much wanted to kiss him again!

He may have suspected I would use his words against him, for he kept dancing with other girls so I could not claim him. I considered the matter a moment and then persuaded Theomund to dance with me on the next. He was easy to steer and I pushed him into line next to Freawine. As soon as the dance ended, that put us face to face and, smiling, I stepped toward him. "I believe the next is yours, Freawine."

He knew I had cornered him; I saw it in his eyes and he gave me an amused grin, finally bowing in defeat. "Yes, my lady. It is."

We danced in silence for a time, until finally we came together long enough for me to whisper, "You are avoiding me! Do not think I have not noticed!"

He merely smiled innocently and made no comment, but I was not going to let him escape so easily. Pretending to step down wrong, I stumbled and almost fell. As I anticipated, he quickly caught me. "I think I have twisted my ankle," I told him, and if he suspected anything, it did not show.

Immediately his arm went around me for support, and he helped me from the floor. He would have stopped at the nearest bench but I urged him farther, saying, "No, not here. I do not want everyone staring at me, and I cannot examine it readily in this crowd."

Again, he made no argument and did as I bid. We hobbled out into the hallway that led to the family chambers, and I collapsed on a bench there. Stooping down, he lifted my skirt slightly and took the offending ankle in hand, probing it gently. "Does this hurt?" he inquired, slowly manipulating it. I faked a wince and nodded, eager to keep him preoccupied and in my company.

But he stood and asked, "Shall I go and bring a healer?"

That was not what I had in mind. "Oh, no. That will not be necessary. Let me just rest here a bit and see how it feels."

I think he was beginning to suspect that my injury was all pretense, but he said nothing and took a seat on the bench, as far away as possible from me.

I wasn't good at these sorts of games. Girls played them, not shieldmaidens. We preferred the direct approach. "Why do you avoid me, Freawine?" I met his gaze and held it steadily. I would force him to answer me honestly.

But he broke the connection by dropping his eyes to stare at his hands. "I thought it for the best," he answered quietly.

I slid suddenly over next to him and caught his hand in mine. "Well, I do not think it for the best," I responded. Taking a deep breath, I pressed on, "I have thought much about what you said and examined my feelings over and over. I cannot see that what I feel for you has anything to do with gratitude. Not that I am not grateful you were with me and helped me through a trying experience, but you have done that before and I did not fancy myself in love then. My head has tried to study this issue from all sides and reach a rational conclusion. But my heart does not yield to logic. I am not concerned with the rationality of it, only that I feel strongly for you. And I can put no other name to that feeling but love. The more I have considered the matter, the more I am certain of it. I love you, Freawine. And I think...I hope...that you love me, too."

My words stumbled to a stop and I looked nervously away from him, anxious, but afraid, to hear what he would say in response. A moment later, his hand pulled free of mine and my heart sank, but then his arm came around my shoulders and he pulled me closer. For an instant, I thought my heart would burst with joy as I hesitantly raised my eyes to meet his. And there I saw what I needed to know. He did love me; he probably had for a very long time and I did not notice.

As much as I had enjoyed our first kiss, this second one was so much better, for this time there was no hesitancy or confusion on either part. We loved each other and our lips sought desperately to communicate that to the other person. When we finally parted, I was stunned to realize I was weeping. What had gotten into me that I was suddenly so weepy? But as I looked into the eyes of my beloved, I knew it was only overwhelming joy that I had finally found what I was looking for, and that joy had to be expressed in some way. Indeed, it seemed it was oozing out of me!

The pretense of an injury was quickly abandoned, and we strolled to the garden where we could talk in private. It amazed me that I had known him my entire life, and we had been good friends for many years, but I felt like I was just now getting to know him. There were so many things he hadn't felt he could tell me before, and I thrilled at each new thing I learned about him.

Once again, we talked long into the night and finally, reluctantly, parted company. I'm not sure why, but neither of us was yet inclined to make our newfound feelings public knowledge. Perhaps because I was still so young, and we feared others would not believe my feelings were true. And I think Freawine was more than a little afraid of what my father would say when he found out. He had already felt Father's wrath and he was not anxious to rile him again. Surely Father knew I would eventually meet a man and fall in love, but I had to admit that he probably would not expect it to happen at seventeen. I had to agree that he was likely to react rather emotionally to the news.

And so we continued as we had before – the best of friends in public, but something much more in private. A few times, I saw Dariel watching me, and I think she was beginning to suspect that our feelings had moved beyond platonic, but she did not mention it.