A/N: Riiiight…just a warning before you start reading this: if anyone is a fan of a tomboy!Éowyn who hates dresses and only wants to ride her horse across the plains and feel free and kill things, kindly stop reading right here. I had not originally planned her in this story; she just came into it and demanded attention, saying she could be a loving wife and a decent, understanding mother. Yeah, I know, shame on the Shieldmaiden, for is she not supposed to be a leader of us warrior women, who dream of rivers of blood every night and loathe the very thought of a bedtime story for a kid?

Chapter 2

For a dreadfully long moment, the two heirs stood there, palms pressed to their mouths, white as death.

Finally, Elboron crouched and picked up the halves with shaking hands. He was too mortified to speak and just looked up at Eldarion with horrified eyes.

The little prince swallowed hard and looked at the heavy door. Elboron knew his mind that very instant.

'No,' he whispered. 'Father is with the King…they have someone from Harad today. And Mother is in the Houses of Healing.'

'Will she be long?' Eldarion asked, some vague idea already taking shape in his head.

'I think she will…she usually comes when I'm in bed if there's someone ill,' Elboron answered, for the first time feeling grateful that his mother did so. Most evenings when she was away, he missed her and even was a little angry.

Eldarion grabbed his shoulder urgently.

'Then we have to mend it,' he said. 'Look.'

He took the halves and put them together.

'See? You can't even see it's broken. Maybe we can use wax…'

Elboron, whose eyes had lit with hope for a fleeting moment, sighed and shook his head.

'We can't,' he said sadly. 'We can't melt it here, it's summer and there's no fire! And we can't take it out to the kitchens...everyone would see us.'

Sitting down, he took one of the pieces and traced a finger along the silvered edge, eyes already filling with tears.

Eldarion sat at his side, clutching the other half in his right hand, his left one fidgeting with a pouch he always had on his belt…

'I know!' he cried suddenly, jumping to his feet. 'I know what to do!'

'I told you!' Eldarion was almost bouncing with excitement.

Elboron eyed the Horn dubiously.

'But you can still see it's broken,' he pointed. 'And it's all…dirty.'

The Horn was indeed sticky with wax from the candle Eldarion had fished out of his pouch, but, by some miracle, it held together.

'But it's whole,' Eldarion pointed reasonably. 'And when you put it back on the shelf, no one will notice!'

Elboron sighed and climbed onto the chair again.

In a small, dimly-lit chamber, the Princess of Ithilien sat in a rocking chair with her three-year-old daughter, sighing contentedly at the chance to finally rest her aching back. It had been a hard day. There were several cases of measles in the Houses of Healing, and she had been spending all her days there. Her little Ithilwen had already been sick, but had weathered it remarkably well. Still, Éowyn changed fully every time she was returning from the Houses. She was loath to have Faramir down with measles, as grown men usually had it much worse than children. To say nothing of the necessity to keep them in bed…

She traced a finger along a dark scratch on the girl's cheek. She was quite certain there had been nothing there in the morning…but it would take all the King's clerks to count her children's injuries.

Éowyn smiled in amusement, imagining some courtier's reaction to that. The little one is her mother's daughter! they would say.

Indeed, she thought dryly. The girl's mother had been quiet and frightened for most of her childhood. As were many other children of that time. She was glad to have two that were so bursting with life…and bruises, scratches, and grazes would heal. She would see to it.

Finally, Éowyn got to her feet and carried the sleeping child to bed. The girl only sighed and immediately turned onto her belly. The mother smiled and stroked the dark head before taking the candle and leaving the chamber.

Faramir must be still discussing those two embassies with the King, she thought walking along the hallway. Elboron is going to feel relieved at not having to talk to him tonight. She chuckled softly at the Queen's mock-angry account of their two sons' adventures of the day. Poor little Dorlas!

The door to Elboron's room was ajar. Éowyn hesitated for an instant, but then stepped forward decidedly and entered.

Elboron was half-sitting in bed. His eyes shot up as she entered, but he only clutched the covers to himself.

Éowyn came closer and sat on the bed beside her son. Elboron looked at her, then asked quietly:

'Are you angry with me, Mother?'

'Angry?' Éowyn put an arm around his shoulders. 'Not angry, Elboron, but a little upset. As will your father be.'

Elboron caught her hand and pressed it hard to his shoulder.

'I'm sorry…' he whispered.

'Do not look so miserable, child,' she chuckled. 'I think your conscience has punished you enough, for your father and me not to be angry!'

Elboron felt a little relieved and nestled closer to Éowyn.

'Mother?' he ventured after while.

'What is it, Elboron?'

'What's conscience?'

Éowyn caught his chin and turned his face up, to meet his eyes.

'It is something that makes you feel bad if you have done a wrong thing,' she said.

Elboron frowned. 'Always?'

'Always, if you are a good person.'

'But a good person does not do bad things!'

Éowyn laughed and kissed the top of the boy's head.

'Of course they do, Elboron. But when they do, their conscience makes them feel bad and try not to do it again.'

'Has it ever made you feel bad, Mother?'

Now he was looking her straight in the eye, expectant…

Éowyn let out a choked sigh and held him close.

'It has,' she said, trying to sound as calm as always.

Elboron was not to be fooled that easily, though. Just like his father.

'Mother…is…is this a bad question?' he asked anxiously.

She was so surprised that she released him and looked him in the eye again.

'A bad question, Elboron?'

'Father says there are bad questions that you shouldn't ask, because they make people sad…is this a bad question, Mother?'

'Not very bad, child,' she smiled reassuringly. 'Not very bad.'

'Your duty is with your people.'

'Too often have I heard of duty! But am I not of the House of Eorl, a shieldmaiden and not a dry-nurse? I have waited on faltering feet long enough. Since they falter no longer, it seems, may I not now spend my life as I will?'

'Few may do that with honour. But as for you, lady: did you not accept the charge to govern the people until their lord's return? If you had not been chosen, then some marshal or captain would have been set in the same place, and he could not ride away from his charge, were he weary of it or no.'

Éowyn sighed and kissed Elboron's brow.

'I shall tell you why it is a bad question, Elboron, but not now.'

'When I grow up.'

That one was an assertion rather than a question, and she could not help smiling, so often would Elboron have this for an answer.

'Perhaps a little sooner,' she promised. 'But only if you do not throw little children into the Queen's stream any more!'

'Indeed,' came from the door. Startled, they both looked up and saw Faramir standing in the doorway. The Steward had his back against the doorframe and was obviously enjoying the sight.

'It was all Eldarion, he couldn't hold Dorlas…' Elboron offered somewhat hesitantly, but soon fell silent under his father's steady gaze.

'I'm sorry…' he whispered miserably.

Faramir sat on the bed too and took the boy's arm gently.

'Elboron,' he said, 'you have had your punishment already, and neither your mother nor I are going to continue it. Now, go to sleep; it is late and we are all weary.'

Elboron nodded and settled more comfortably in bed.

'Good night, Mother, Father,' he said.

'Sleep well, son,' Faramir said, leaning to kiss his brow. 'You will need that to grow big and strong.'

'Like you and Bergil and Uncle Boromir?' Elboron yawned.

Faramir chuckled.

'Yes, like your uncle. You need to be like him to carry his Horn!'

When the Steward of Gondor was later having supper with his lady, he could not even guess the panic that his last words had thrown his son into…

TBC

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