The Adventures of Theodred, Son of Eomer

Chapter 7 (begins late April, 44 IV)

The two men leaned back in their saddles, one hand on their horses' rumps in an attempt to see the top of Orthanc, but it was a cloudy day, and the pinnacle was obscured from their view. At length, Freahelm straightened and shook his head, commenting, "You know, I have the utmost respect for Gondorians…"

He paused and Theodred's eyes narrowed. "Yes?" he prompted.

"But the man who built this must have been utterly mad! Who in their right mind could think such a building was worth constructing? It is imposing, to be sure, but…useless. The view from the top might be magnificent, but things on the ground must appear the size of ants from up there. And, for that matter, who would want to make that climb on a regular basis? Perhaps if a man had wings he would attempt it, but I doubt I would often go more than five floors up! Useless, I tell you! Utterly useless!"

Theodred grinned at the diatribe. It was not the first time he had heard such an opinion expressed of this place. His father had long held that view, and indicated he was happy to let Gondor retain possession of the place as he could see no practical value to it. Indeed, as Saruman's stronghold, it had been a festering sore in Rohan's side for far too long, and Theodred suspected Eomer would not have been sorry to see it completely destroyed when Treebeard and the Ents took control of Isengard. Now it was little more than an interesting landmark for any who cared to venture this far off the beaten path.

In all his years living in Rohan, Theodred had never taken the opportunity to make the journey to see the place. He had decided now was the appropriate time, and he thought it worthwhile to glimpse it at least once, since it had played such an important role in Rohan's history. Tonight he would have much to write in his journal.

Treebeard had long since returned to Fangorn Forest, and Theodred regretted not having had the opportunity to meet him. The Hobbits had spoken much of him on their last visit, when he was a child, and he had always hoped to have that chance himself. There was something magical in the notion of an actual treeherder, who appeared to be a tree himself almost.

"Well, shall we go inside and have a look around?" Freahelm's voice broke through his reverie. Eagerly Theodred nodded and they rode closer.

The lake surrounding Orthanc had receded somewhat over the years, but the water still almost reached their stirrups, so they drew as close to the entrance as they could. Had the doorway been larger, they would have ridden inside to dismount, but there was not enough room for their horses, so they slipped into the water and waded in.

Theodred knew that while Treebeard had been in residence at Isengard, few had dared visit, being almost as afraid of an Ent as they were of Saruman. Once the treeherder had taken his leave, the place fell victim to looters who were eager to pilfer anything they could use or sell.

Most of the rooms now stood empty but for a few scraps of destroyed furniture. The two winced inwardly at the sight of iron rings affixed to the floor or walls of various rooms, clear evidence that they had once housed prisoners of some sort. They preferred not to dwell long on that subject.

It took some doing, but Theodred was able to persuade Freahelm to climb all the way to the top, so they could at least get the full experience, and say they had done so. A few drifting breaks in the cloud cover gave them glimpses around them. As Freahelm predicted, their horses were almost indiscernible pinpricks on the ground from that great height. Though not usually affected by extreme heights, both of them were unnerved here, and they did not linger. Still, the views they got of the surrounding country were incomparable. Skeletons of destroyed machinery still lay hidden under the lake, and Theodred studied the sight with a practiced eye, committing it to memory so he could later transfer the image to his journal pages.

At length, they had seen enough, and decided to be on their way before the afternoon was too far gone. They hoped to reach the Fords of Isen before nightfall and make camp there.

xx

After they had set up their campsite and Freahelm began cooking the supper, Theodred took his journal and headed for the ford. Settling himself on a nearby rock, he stared at the burial cairn. Several years after the War, Eomer had come and made a sturdier marker at the site where his cousin Theodred had fallen. The piled rocks made a simple structure, but it secured in place the circle of spears with Theodred's helm mounted on the central one.

All his life, his parents had told him of his cousin, the one for whom he was named. Often his father got choked up when speaking of a man he had loved like a brother, and never a year went by that Eomer didn't make a pilgrimage to this site to honor him. While his mother had never known Theodred personally, she always accompanied her husband, strengthening him through the emotional experience by her very presence. When Theodred had been old enough to understand, they had begun bringing him with them. It had always seemed sad to him that his cousin's deeds had been overshadowed and lost in the tales of valor during the Ring War. Though Theodred had not survived to fight on the Pelennor or march on the Black Gate, his contribution had been no less important to Rohan's freedom. In many ways, Theodred believed his father had fought all the more tenaciously against Mordor so as to avenge his cousin's death. Sitting there now, as the sun dropped slowly out of sight, he vowed that cousin Theodred would not be forgotten in the annals of Rohan or Gondor. He would make certain of that, some how, some way.

A warm hand settled on his shoulder, drawing him from his reverie. "Come eat. Tonight we will toast the victorious dead and you will tell me tales of Theodred, son of Theoden."

Supper was taken in silence for the most part, as Theodred was lost in his thoughts. Finally, he glanced up at his patient companion and observed, "I had rather thought that I would be most affected by the things I would see outside of Rohan during our travels. Instead I find that Orthanc and these Fords have moved me far more than any other sight. This is our history, our past, our heritage. Dale's battle with Easterlings and Ithilien's efforts against the Haradrim happened to someone else, somewhere else. This happened to us, and it shaped our land and our people...and our parents. So, in the end, it shaped us."

Freahelm cast a thoughtful gaze upon him, then nodded. "True. Even I, who am not so taken with history as you, have been touched by these places today." Then, attempting to lighten the mood, he grinned and added, "You are the storyteller. It is up to you to bring these things to the attention of others. Share your insights with all."

Theodred chuckled in response, but part of his mind filed away the notion for further study. Perhaps there was a way to help others see what he had seen.

xx

They got a late start the next day. Freahelm, knowing Theodred had stayed up late getting all his thoughts and drawings down on paper, did not attempt to waken his companion early. Instead, he headed off to a deeper portion of the Isen and caught some fish for their breakfast while Theodred slept in. By the time he returned to camp, Theodred was up, dressed and gone. He set about preparing their meal, knowing his friend was likely making one last visit to the burial cairn of his cousin.

The next stretch of their journey was fairly easy. The North South Road that ran to the river crossing at Tharbad had been renovated and was much more heavily used since the War. Still, traveling so close to Dunland, the two men kept on their guard and did not entirely rest easy until they were across the river. All things considered, they preferred not to run afoul of any Dunlendings that might recognize them as being from Rohan. Theodred's hair was still far lighter than normal and their coloring alone would have marked them as Rohirrim.

They made a stop at the Sarn Ford and sent word on to Merry and Pippin that they were in the neighborhood and on the way to Bree. The Hobbits had written that they would meet them in Bree, and then travel on to Annuminas with the pair to visit there. Theodred still regretted that Men were not allowed in the Shire. He very much wished to see the place, but he knew the Halflings were ready tale-spinners and he would have to be satisfied with what they shared in lieu of seeing it with his own eyes. He had purposely brought extra journals along, and intended to fill them with every detail he could glean. More and more he found he was enjoying collecting the history of Middle Earth as told by the residents. Not just the stories of War and valor, but the everyday tales of life in the Shire, or working as a fisherman in Dol Amroth or spending one's life making marionettes in Dale.

By the time they reached Bree, it was nearly sundown and the guard was just preparing to close the gate for the night. He directed them to a place they could stable their horses, and suggested the Prancing Pony inn to stay for the night. Remembering Merry and Pippin's previous stories of their visit here, Theodred was looking forward to getting a glimpse of this inn where the Fellowship had unwittingly begun to form.

Word had gotten to the Hobbits quickly and by the next day, the two Halflings rode into town to greet their friends. Securing a table in the corner, they spent the afternoon laughing and talking. Theodred was careful to ply the Hobbits with food lest all they down was ale and succumb too early.

As it was nearing closing time, Theodred rose and told his companions, "I will just go check on our horses one last time. I shall see you in the morning, gentlemen."

Theodred had never been much of a drinker, so he had consumed far less than the others, but still he was slightly unsteady as he made his way down the street. Even this late at night, the streets were fairly bustling. In Edoras, by now everyone would be in their beds.

Unnoticed by Theodred, another man of Rohan was making use of the Prancing Pony. During the course of the evening, he had become aware of the two blond men with the Hobbits, and curiously had inquired as to their identity. The barkeep had readily gossiped that they were Freahelm and Theodred of Edoras, and that rumor had it the younger man was the son of the king.

Orgel's eyes burned at this information. Well, well – the king's son. And brother to the man who had stolen his wife and son. The more he drank, the more it rankled Orgel to sit there in the same room with the man. When he parted from his companions and left the inn alone, Orgel saw his chance. At last he could even the score with Theomund of Rohan. He had stolen Orgel's wife and son; Orgel would steal his brother's life.

Likely Orgel had consumed more ale than was best when a murder was being planned, but he steadied himself and pressed on. Another opportunity for revenge probably would not come soon. And he had the element of surprise. Drawing his dagger to have it at the ready, he stayed to the shadows. People in Bree mostly had enough sense to mind their own business, so if his actions looked suspicious, they would just turn the other way if it did not appear to affect them personally.

Theodred had entered the stable, fetched more water and then left the horses to their hayracks for the night. Closing the door and fastening it, he did not see the man move swiftly from the shadows until he was slammed into the solid wood of the barn. Dazed for a moment, he struggled to respond defensively, but the ale was working against him. Fortunately, his assailant seemed to be similarly handicapped and his swipe with a knife only grazed Theodred's left arm before he lurched out of reach. Rounding more quickly than Theodred expected, the man carefully circled him taking tentative swipes with the knife, looking for an opening.

Then fortune seemed to smile on Orgel for the first time in a long while. A cat bolted from around the stable, and shot directly under Theodred's feet. Frantically he tried to maintain his balance, but unable to do so, he crashed painfully into the dirt, the breath being knocked out of him. With a grin of pure hatred, Orgel hissed, "I am sure it will grieve your brother to know you died a painful death. He took my son; it is only fair I take his brother in recompense!"

He raised his knife to plunge it into Theodred's chest, but was suddenly sent flying as a small figure crashed into him broadside. As Pippin wrestled with the man, he flailed about with the knife, both trying to stab the Hobbit and keep him from taking the knife. And then, before anyone knew what was happening, Orgel suddenly went deathly still. For an instant, Pippin hesitated, poised to defend himself and Theodred further if necessary, but Orgel remained unmoving.

Merry and Freahelm stumbled to a stop nearby, and then carefully approached. Rolling the man over, they saw the reason for his stillness – he had managed to fall upon his own knife, cutting an artery that quickly bled out. Pippin scooted hastily away from the dead man, looking sick to his stomach. Leaving him where he lay, Freahelm turned and examined Theodred, asking, "You hurt?"

Shakily, Theodred sat up, clutching his arm where the blade had swiped him. He shook his head, and reassured, "No. He nicked me, but you got here just in time."

"You can thank Pippin for that," Freahelm explained. "He saw Orgel glaring at you and then follow you out. When he asked the barkeep who the man was and found out it was Orgel, he remembered your father telling him about the situation with Orgel and Fele, and suspected he was up to no good. Pippin lit out after you and we followed, not sure what he was doing until we got here and saw the fight."

A small crowd was gathering to find out what was happening, and Merry took charge in finding someone to deal with the body. The constable put in appearance, but when several witnesses admitted seeing Theodred under attack and without a weapon, his story of self-defense was believed and they were not detained.

Their nerves rattled, they returned to the inn and the barkeep granted them one final drink even though he had just closed the bar for the night.

The attack had put something of a damper on their visit, and the small party departed the next day for Annuminas. They made a brief stop in Fornost, so Theodred could see the city which had been the seat of the North-kingdom for over a thousand years. The Witch-king had captured the city, but after it was regained by Men, it fell into decline and was largely deserted until King Elessar reunited the Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor. Now, it was once more a thriving town, particularly with the rebuilding of the King's northern palace at Annuminas. With great reluctance, Theodred let his companions drag him away and they made the final leg of their journey, glad to be safe within the palace of Gondor for a while.

Neither the Hobbits nor Freahelm fully appreciated Annuminas any more than they had Fornost. Though Theodred tried regaling them with the history of the place, that it had been the seat of Elendil as the High King of Gondor and Arnor, while his sons had jointly ruled Gondor in the south, they did not seem much interested. He could not fathom their disinterest, even though much of what he was trying to share with them happened nearly three thousand years earlier. All of them had met King Elessar, descendant of the men who had made this their capital, then moved it to Fornost. Now, in their lifetimes, they had seen the two kingdoms brought together again, and these former places of prestige and importance restored. Still, it was clear he was the only one wandering about with a sense of awe, at least regarding the history.

As in Minas Tirith and Dol Amroth, the bathing facilities of the palace were a wonder. It became something of an amusement to the servants of Annuminas at how difficult it was to get their guests out of the bath. Had they not wished to visit, eat and drink, the four might have spent nearly the entirety of their visit soaking in heated waters.

After a couple of days, though, Theodred was eager to walk about the town and even make riding excursions around Lake Evendim and the surrounding hills. It took some of persuasion on his part to convince his companions to leave this luxury and make a side trip over to the Grey Havens. Though the Elves were long gone from these shores, for the most part, he still desired to see their last point of departure.

It was somewhat bittersweet for the Hobbits to return there, but they could not fault Frodo for his choice. Likely he had never told them all he had suffered on the quest to destroy the Ring, and they hoped he was now at peace. Over the years, the seaport had fallen into decline, but it was still a remarkable place to behold and Theodred made several sketches before they finally headed back.

The Hobbits said their farewells along the way, and swung off to return home via Michel Delving, so they could visit Samwise Gamgee who was Mayor there. The two Men continued back to Annuminas in preparation for resuming their journey. As luck would have it, the northern palace was preparing to send one of its infrequent messengers to King Elessar, reporting on things in the north, and the pair were able to write letters home to be dropped off in Edoras. Theodred had pondered for some time whether to tell Theomund and Fele about Orgel's death. At length, he decided it was best they know that shadow no longer hung over them. He wrote about the episode to Theomund and left it to him how much he shared with his wife.

xx

There was a second stop in Bree as they made their way to Imladris, but it was just overnight and far more pleasant than their previous visit as this one was without mishap. From there, they picked up the Great East Road and skirted around the Midgewater swamp. They were grateful to be on horseback, and to quickly bypass the place after having listened to the Hobbits' story of their own encounter with it. They stayed the night in the dell on the west side of the Weathertop hill, to allow Theodred to indulge his interest, and he spent the evening regaling his friend with all the history he could remember of the site. It took some doing, but he was even able to convince Freahelm to hike to the summit with him to examine the ruins. At least the tale of the Hobbits' unfortunate visit there held Freahelm's attention, and made the excursion more worthwhile in his eyes.

It took several more days before they reached the Last Bridge over the River Mitheithel, and a few beyond that to make the Ford of Bruinen. There had been no way to send a message on ahead to Elladan and Elrohir of their pending visit, so they hoped they would not be unwelcome. King Elessar had assured them his brothers would greet them warmly, and they carried letters from both he and Queen Arwen for the two Elves.

Despite Elessar's detailed map, much was overgrown since the king's last visit and it took quite a while for them to finally locate the Last Homely House. For a time, they sat at a distance and just took in the view. The place blended so well into its surroundings that it was difficult to tell where nature ended and constructions began.

As they sat there, a quiet voice suddenly came to them, and it took a moment for them to locate the source. "What brings Men to this place?"

A most stately looking Elf stood nearby, almost hidden among the foliage. Though age was difficult to determine in Elves, Theodred hazarded a guess that this was not one of the king's brothers, but rather Celeborn, formerly of Lorien. Politely he answered, "I am Theodred of Rohan and this is Freahelm, also of that place. We are friends of King Elessar and acquainted with Queen Arwen. The king believed we would be welcome to visit his former home, and he asked that we bring missives to his brothers from both he and Queen Arwen."

The tiniest of smiles twitched at Celeborn's mouth at this monologue, but he merely responded, "I am Celeborn. How is my granddaughter and her husband?"

"They were well, last time we saw them, nearly six months past now," Theodred answered. "It is an honor to meet you, my lord."

"Come," Celeborn replied, not inclined to pursue idle conversation, "I will take you to meet Elladan and Elrohir." He turned abruptly and struck off down the path they were facing. Freahelm quirked an amused eyebrow at Theodred, and then nudged his horse forward to follow.

In the times they had met Legolas, and been in the company of Queen Arwen, they had developed a much different sense about Elves in general. While both of those persons were beautiful and stately in their own right, each had displayed a merry attitude and they seemed quite fun-loving. The two Men were not quite sure what to make of this different Elf that led them, or what to expect of the twin brothers they were to meet momentarily.

They need not have been concerned. Apparently Celeborn was something of a unique character, for they found Elladan and Elrohir to be both pleasant and hospitable. In fact, the twins could even be termed mischievous, for they proved fond of telling embarrassing stories about their sister and brother, as well as regaling their guests with tales of their pranks. Celeborn sat listening with a mildly disapproving look on his face, but made no effort to interfere in the conversation.

Not until Theodred began plying him with questions about history did he appreciably warm up to them to any extent, and by the time they left a fortnight later, he almost seemed fond of the Men and sorry to see them go.

The twins rode with them to guide them to the entrance to the High Pass, then said their farewells and left them to deliver messages back to Elessar and Arwen on their behalf.

The experience they had picked up in their many months of travel served them well in their journey. It had already begun to get cold in the mountains, both a relief from the heat of the summer and a challenge to deal with at night. Luckily, there was still plenty of forage available for their horses in a few hidden vales tucked along their way, and they rationed out the small amount of oats they carried with them to supplement their feed.

By the time they had reached the River Running, both were glad they would soon be settled in one place for a time. And Theodred was looking forward to seeing Kata again after so long. He realized now that he had missed her company after so much time spent together in Edoras.

The travelers settled into their beds at the inn prior to their journey up the river to Dale, satisfied with the course of their past few months' trek.

TBC

5-29-06

A/N: If my calculations are correct for distance covered and time it should have taken (approximate), Theodred and Freahelm left Edoras in late April (about the 24th) and reached Dale just before the end of Sept. (also about the 24th).

My apologies for not doing more in the way of dialogue with the Hobbits or the Elves, but I'm not sure I would do justice to them and I'd rather work around it than do it poorly. For some reason, I'm not totally comfortable writing the Hobbits or Elves, and even Gimli gives me trouble though I do find him easier.