A/N: Okay, it isn't that I haven't been working on writing this story, it's that I haven't been working on writing this chapter of the story! If you've read my previous multi-chapter stories, you may recall my mentioning that I only post completed stories, primarily because I don't tend to write in a linear fashion - I jump all over the place and then piece it all together - sort of like a jigsaw puzzle. I've kind of been doing that here, so much of what I've been writing comes...later. Anyway, I finally got enough written in the here and now to comprise chapter 9 so that I could post, so here you go. Hopefully all that jumping ahead will mean I can get ch. 10 worked up fairly quickly. There's still some puzzle pieces missing but I'm slowly filling in the gaps. If you never read "Goodwill", you might want to read that before reading this (or afterwards). This chapter refers to events from it.

The Adventures of Theodred, Son of Eomer

Chapter 9 (Nov, 44 IV)

"Are you sure about this? You do not sound well," Freahelm observed.

"I will be fine. I can make it to Minas Tirith. It is just a cough. Do not be such a mother hen!" Theodred teased.

Theodred had begun coughing shortly after they departed Edoras. When they stopped for their noon meal in Aldburg, the hot food and warmth of the inn seemed to help, but now that they were back out in the cold weather once more, the coughing had resumed and, to Freahelm's ears, had grown worse. He had tried convincing Theodred to turn back to Aldburg and seek a healer's attention there, but his friend insisted it was not necessary.

Two hours later, Freahelm regretted giving in. It was clear that Theodred was ill, and now it was unlikely he would be up to the ride back to Aldburg. The best they could hope for was to find shelter for the night and perhaps rest would set him right. This particular area was lightly settled, but there was a farm not too far ahead and Freahelm steered toward it, casting worried glances at his companion.

As they rode into the yard of the cottage, a woman appeared on the porch, eyeing them warily. He could readily understand her suspicion, given that it was getting dark and her home was somewhat isolated. Politely he inquired, "Is your husband here, good mistress? I am hoping he will allow us to sleep in the barn this night. My friend is taken ill and I would like to get him warm and fed as soon as possible."

Her eyes shifted to Theodred who sat hunched over in the saddle, flushed and coughing. There was no denying that part of the story was true. Her features softened slightly. "Of course. I was just making some soup. I will bring you some when it is ready. He might find that easiest to get down."

"Thank you. You are most kind. Come, Theodred. You can rest soon."

He started to turn his horse when the woman called questioningly, "Theodred, did you say? Does not the king have a son named Theodred?"

"Yes, mistress. This is he. We are traveling to Minas Tirith."

A strange expression flitted across her face, and then she told Freahelm, "Bring him in the house. You may spread your bedrolls in front of the fire."

Freahelm blinked in surprise at this generous, and unanticipated, offer, but decided not to question it just now. Instead, he stepped down from his horse and reached up to help Theodred dismount. Pulling off the bedrolls, they followed her inside and he got Theodred settled where she indicated. Leaving his friend there, he went to tend the horses.

When he returned, the woman was just ladling some soup into a bowl for Theodred. He moved over and helped his friend to sit up sufficiently for her to spoon it into him. After several moments of silence, Freahelm ventured, "I thank you for your hospitality. It is far more than I expected."

The soup was finished and he was laying Theodred back down. The woman told him, "He is quite ill. Get me some willow bark to ease his fever. There are some trees near the barn."

Freahelm nodded and moved quickly outside before the light was completely gone. When he returned, she was heating water, and began to dry the bark in preparation for steeping it into a tea. As he watched her work, she commented, "I doubt he will be well enough to travel for a few days. Will you send word to his parents he is taken ill?"

"Yes, possibly so. Why?"

"When you do, tell them...tell her majesty that Fetige is returning the favor. I will see that her son is well cared for, and nursed back to health, as she once cared for my parents."

Freahelm quirked a curious eyebrow at this statement. "Indeed? I should like to hear that story."

With a soft smile, she told him, "Tomorrow, perhaps. Help yourself to something to eat. Let me tend him, and then I have to look after my grandchildren."

For the first time Freahelm became aware of two small children huddled across the room, staring wide-eyed at him. He smiled at them in a friendly way, but they just continued to silently stare in fascination at this stranger.

Freahelm felt more at ease with Fetige watching over Theodred. He made himself useful chopping firewood and hauling water. Eventually, the two children, Cafrinan and Horethnis, had warmed up to him, and then would not leave him alone. Fortunately, he was fond of children and did not mind the attention; plus it freed Fetige to focus on Theodred's needs.

Once the children had been settled in bed, she explained that her son-in-law had gone to Aldburg for supplies and should return the next day. These were his children. She was living with him, and raising the children since the death of their mother at the birth of the youngest.

By the next day, the willow bark had helped and Theodred was improved, to Freahelm's relief. His friend could be stubborn, and he had feared Theodred might have insisted pressing on in spite of the illness. Using Fetige's cryptic remark from the day before as a distraction, Freahelm made it a point to inquire about her previous contact with the king and queen when Theodred would overhear. As expected, Theodred readily became focused on the tale and wanted to know all the details, scribbling everything down in his journal as she related it to them.

When she left them to go bake some bread, Theodred leaned pensively back against the wall. At length, he glanced at Freahelm and commented, "I wonder how many other stories there are out there similar to that. Stories about my parents that are only known to the participants. I have never heard anyone speak of this before now, and I would have loved to know this about them."

Freahelm could see the wheels turning in his head and prompted, "Then perhaps it will be your task to collect such tales and make them known. Most histories of kings are only of their great and glorious deeds, such as in battle or caring for the people in times of great trial. You could be the one to find the personal stories that are not usually shared."

Theodred nodded, then added, "But there is more. Remember Dorgil? And here is Fetige. We have met numerous people along the way in our travels. Just everyday folk who live everyday lives in Middle-earth. I should like to tell their tales also. As a child growing up in Rohan, and even as a man, up until I went out adventuring with you, there is much I did not know about our world and the people in it. I want to collect that knowledge of people and places and make it available to others who may not have the opportunity that we have had to travel about and see it for themselves."

Freahelm grinned. "Well, if anyone could do it – and make it interesting – it would be you! Even I might read such a book or listen to such a tale!"

"Of course you would! Because you are going to help me collect the tales to write it!" Theodred assured him with a chuckle.

xx

Freahelm smiled down at his sleeping companion. In gratitude for Fetige's aid, he was doing chores in Hyrde's absence. Cafrinan had become totally enamored of the two visitors, and insisted on 'helping' him. It had not taken long for the four-year-old to collapse with weariness, though that had accelerated the work considerably. As it was nearing dinnertime, Freahelm strapped his sword back on and wiped the sweat from his brow. For a few moments he walked among the rows of the garden, surveying his handiwork. There was little left to glean this close to winter, but the family could use every last morsel. Hefting the sack with the few items he had found, he slipped it over his shoulder, then lifted the boy gently into his arms and stepped toward the garden gate.

Just as he started to round the large tree at the entrance, a man stepped into view, a rough dagger held threateningly at Freahelm. "I'll have that boy!" the man demanded.

Despite the hostile gesture, Freahelm sensed fear in the man's actions. With an easy motion, he settled Cafrinan on his right shoulder as he shifted hastily to his right, clear of the garden so he would have freedom of movement. Nervously the man, lurched at him, waving the knife, but he effortlessly backstepped from it.

"Don' move!" the man ordered, "or I'll kill ya! Give me the boy!"

Freahelm's left hand dropped to his hip. When Elfwine had lost his right hand in an accident, many men in Rohan's army became forcefully aware of just how simple it was for a soldier to be disabled in battle. Consequently, many had undertaken learning to fight with a sword using either hand. Not surprisingly, Freahelm was one of them, and he had proven quite adept at it. "I am afraid I cannot let you touch this lad," Freahelm answered calmly. With one deft motion, he drew his sword left handed, and flipped it up into ready position.

Now the fear was clearly evident in the man's eyes, but there was also a look of desperation that surprised Freahelm. Why was he so determined to harm this child? Whatever the reason, he would not allow it.

"Freahelm!" Without turning, Freahelm recognized Theodred's voice calling from the direction of the house, and coming toward them. Likely he had seen the altercation and was moving to help.

As his friend's footsteps drew near, he replied without looking, "Take Cafrinan. Keep him safe. I will deal with this brigand!"

Theodred stepped in quickly and snatched the boy to safety, as Freahelm used his sword to block the man's agitated attempt to dart forward. "I ain't no brigand! Give me my son!"

He was near frantic now, and at his words, both the other men skidded to a stop. "Son? You are Hyrde? Why did you not say so at first and we could have avoided this unpleasantness. We are guests of Fetige under your roof. We are merely defending your son against presumed harm," Freahelm explained, lowering his sword cautiously, making certain the man accepted his words.

Gradually Hyrde seemed to grasp what he was being told, and as Cafrinan was beginning to wake, Theodred tickled him lightly and said softly, "Look who is here."

He pointed toward the new arrival and the child's face broke into a grin. "Papa!" The boy reached for his father, and Theodred readily handed him over at the clear proof that the man was telling the truth about his identity.

Resheathing his sword, Freahelm scooped up the sack he had dropped and clapped Hyrde on the back. "My apologies for the misunderstanding, my friend. I did not intend to cause you such alarm. Your son wished to help me with the chores and fell asleep. We were just returning to the house for dinner. Come."

As they walked, he made introductions, explaining who they were and why they were there. Hyrde was rather embarrassed by his false assumption, but Freahelm reassured him that living so remotely, he could readily understand his alarm at finding unknown men at his home and holding his son.

The excitement and exercise had Theodred tired and in a cold sweat, so after eating, he laid back down for a nap, and the men sat talking, catching up on further news from Aldburg. Hyrde had left the wagon a short distance away and crept up on the farm when he saw the strange man in his garden. They had retrieved it and unhitched the horse before eating, but now the two men worked to get the supplies unloaded and finish the other farm chores. Hyrde found he not only appreciated the help, but enjoyed the company as well.

As predicted, it took several days for Theodred to recover sufficiently for Fetige to be willing to release him to continue his travels. During their stay, he had pumped her for the story of her meeting his parents when she was yet a child, and the royal couple had cared for her sick parents, the story of her own difficult life that included the drowning death of her husband twelve years previously, the tragic story of Hyrde's wife, and even Cafrinan was eager to have it told how he was named for the fierce storm that had raged the night he was born. It had rained so hard the midwife was unable to be sent for so Hyrde and Fetige had attended the boy's mother, and brought him into the world. All these tales, Theodred faithfully recorded in a spare journal; the start of his historical record-keeping. He was not yet certain how he would organize these tales, or what could be done with them, but he would not let such stories be lost to the sands of time.

xx

Nearly a sennight after their arrival, on a brisk fall day, they set out on their trek once more. They had not gone far back toward the main road, when Freahelm drew his horse to a stop, staring pensively at the ground. He had become deeply attached to the little family, and struggled to hide his emotions as they parted company. It was clear to Theodred that he had something weighing heavily on his mind, and he waited for his friend to confide his thoughts.

At length, Freahelm glanced up. "Do you mind a slight delay before we continue on to Mundburg? I should like to return to Aldburg for a few things." He offered no further explanation, so Theodred merely nodded and shrugged, turning his horse about and nudging him to a canter, as Freahelm fell in alongside him.

Realizing they would either have to camp out in the cold an extra night, stay another night with Hyrde's family or remain in Aldburg until the next day, they collected the things they sought and took a room for the night. Usually Theodred stayed at his family's home when visiting here, but he did not wish to disrupt the household for a single night. Besides, if the housekeeper, Betersel, learned of his recent illness, she'd keep him here a week ensuring he was fully recovered!

By early afternoon, there was quite a bundle accumulated on Freahelm's bed. It had pained him to see the family struggling to survive on so little, and he had determined to provide a few extras to make the winter easier for them. Then, leaving Theodred to rest, he ventured forth to make one last purchase.

When he returned, a large item under his arm, he found a handful of coins on his pillow. He glanced up at Theodred who met his gaze evenly. "They are my friends, too, and I am perhaps even more indebted to them than you. Let me help also."

The two rarely discussed money issues. In most things, they shared equally, though they camped out so often they could offset the need for coin, and usually in cities they stayed with family or friends and avoided expense in that way. But Theodred well knew that he could better afford this expense than Freahelm, though he did not wish to embarrass his friend by the offer. As far as he was concerned, they were equal partners in this venture, and each contributed in their own ways whatever they had to offer.

Finally, Freahelm nodded, and laid the last item on the pile – the most expensive item. It was a sword. Not the finest workmanship, but a serviceable sword, nevertheless.

Theodred eyed it a moment, then rose and pulled it from the simple sheath, hefting it and giving it a few easy swipes to test its feel. "They are too remote," Freahelm explained quietly. "They should have a better means of defending themselves than just a crude dagger."

Slipping the sword back in the sheath, Theodred tossed it lightly back onto the bed, then suddenly reached up and ruffled his friend's hair. "You old softie! Those children have wormed their way under your skin, have they not?" Theodred exclaimed, laughing teasingly.

Freahelm flushed red and mock punched his friend. "Just for that, you get to buy supper. Until then, it is my turn to nap." With that, he scooped the goods off onto the small table in the room, settled on his bed and closed his eyes.

For several moments, Theodred stood grinning down at him in amusement. He might like to appear strong and unaffected, but he truly was a good and kind man, a great deal like his father, come to think of it. Taking the suggestion, Theodred resettled on his own bed, and they rested until it was time to go eat.

xx

Hyrde and Fetige had not expected to see Theodred and Freahelm riding back into the farmyard the next morning. And they certainly had not expected them to come bearing gifts, but the pair was most insistent that they be allowed to express their gratitude for the hospitality shown them. Freahelm was not content merely to gift the sword to Hyrde, but insisted on giving him a few lessons with it as well, and made him promise to work with it regularly to keep in practice. Before they left, he rested his hand on the man's shoulder and told him sincerely, "I will rest easier knowing you are better able to protect your little ones, Hyrde. Keep them safe – for both of us. I have come to love them dearly."

How could a man be embarrassed by such a gift given by so dear a friend? He embraced Freahelm warmly and bid them safe journey; and the men from Edoras at long last resumed their travels to the east.

TBC

6-15-06

Hyrde – "guardian"

Cafrinan – "quick rain"

Horethnis – "ease cares"