A/N: Man, I'm on a roll here! Unfortunately, it looks like I may slow down some now. I only have unconnected bits and pieces now, so I have to come up with quite a bit more story to connect all the dots. And my muse went and wandered off to Vegas - oh, wait, that was just for the weekend. Nevermind. She'll be back on duty soon so maybe it won't take all that long - well, for her part anyway. She nudges me with ideas, but I still have to sit down and write it. I really should delay longer in posting this chapter since ch. 12 is nowhere near ready, but I won't be that cruel (though I guess that makes me cruel going forward…). Can you see why I prefer posting completed stories? I hate making people wait to see what happens next! I'm such a softie (like Freahelm)! Anyway, this chapter should answer a few questions, and raise a few more.
The Adventures of Theodred, Son of Eomer
Chapter 11 (begins Dec, 44 IV)
As Theodred stepped into the street, he saw that the throng of midday shoppers had swelled. There was quite a crowd, and he had to work his way among people along the bustling thoroughfare. Suddenly some fool called out that there was a sale taking place on the next level down and the throng surged eagerly toward the gate. Too many people were pressed too tightly together; no one in their midst could do other than choose to be swept along as well.
Even with his youth and agility, Theodred had to keep alert not to be overturned by the rushing mass, but a small scream just ahead alerted him that someone was not so fortunate. A woman had clearly fallen, and the crowd was either unwilling or unable to stop and help her. They were barely clearing a path around her and he dug in his heels, bullying people aside as he waded toward her. She was sprawled on her hands and knees, and with a quick motion he caught her by the waist, hauling her forcefully up and pressing her close to him, then wrestling them both off to the side and into an alcove cut in the wall.
Her face was pressed into his left shoulder, and she was weeping, though he was fairly certain it was more from fright than from actual harm. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he held her close until her shaking eased and she seemed to calm. With a shuddering breath, she whispered, "I thank you, Sir, for the assistance!"
He turned in surprise at the sound, recognizing the voice. "It is you!"
At his words, her head jerked up, her hazel eyes meeting his. "Lord...Theodred, was it?"
"Yes, but I do not believe I caught your name."
"I am Esgalmir, my lord. And I thank you for my rescue."
"Please, call me Theodred. I was glad to be of assistance. It is little wonder you were overwhelmed. I struggled myself in that mob." Suddenly realizing his words might sound rude, he blushed red. "Forgive me, I did not mean..."
"No, that is all right. I am aware that I do not move well."
She pulled from his arms and stepped away from him, but he caught her elbow. "I...was just going to dinner. Would you join me? The crowd seems to have passed, and I should think you would be better acquainted with the inns of this city than I am."
She eyed him somewhat hesitantly, not certain what to make of his request; was it the result of pity, an attempted apology for his rudeness, or something else? If it was either of the first two, she could not discern it on his face. He seemed completely straightforward, and at length she nodded slightly. "Very well. The Seven Bells is just a short distance from here." She gestured to the right of the alcove and he offered his arm to her, which she took politely, but kept her eyes averted.
They walked the now nearly deserted roadway in silence. Despite the noon hour, with so many off to check the sale on the lower level, the inn was not as busy as usual and they had their pick of seats. Theodred guided Esgalmir to a fairly secluded table near the fire, where it would be easier to hold a conversation.
Once they had ordered stew, bread and hot tea, they found themselves alone. Uncomfortably, Esgalmir glanced about the room, checking to see if there was anyone she knew who might ask difficult questions later, but fortunately saw no one. Forcing a smile, she turned to her companion, and said, "So, Theodred, what brings you to Minas Tirith, then? You are a long way from home."
She had thought the question a rather neutral one; safe ground to tread with a stranger. Instead, a look of intense pain flashed in the man's eyes and he swallowed hard. Quickly he closed his eyes and leaned back, balling his hands into fists, seeming to will himself to be calm and controlled, but whatever emotion had seized him would not readily be banished.
A surge of empathy went through her. She had always considered herself a fine judge of character, and this was a good young man. Despite his words spoken somewhat in haste earlier, he had not meant any offense, of that she was certain. And something in his life was greatly amiss, causing him tremendous anguish of spirit.
"Theodred," she said softly, "I do not know that I can be of any help, but I am willing to listen if you wish it." She laid a warm hand on his clenched fist, and almost against his will it began to relax somewhat.
They were interrupted just then as the serving girl returned with their food, eyeing Theodred curiously as she laid things out, and turning away reluctantly when she was done. Slowly he reached for the spoon and poked at the stew, moving it around in the dish, then tortuously he began to pour out the tale to her of all that had happened – from his meeting Kata in Minas Tirith, to his visit to Dale, to her coming to Edoras, to his finding her kissing Arawine and the subsequent blowup.
"Did you love her?" Esgalmir asked quietly.
Theodred rubbed his face thoughtfully, then admitted, "No, I do not suppose that I truly did. Mother was right about that. Mother is always right!" He chuckled ruefully, and she smiled at the comment. Continuing, he explained, "It is just, there are so many things in my life that were – that are – unsettled. Kata was…convenient. She was a simple solution. She was one less thing to worry about accomplishing and sorting through. I was not fair to her, and I was not fair to myself in the way I dealt with the situation. I am just glad that she found happiness in spite of me. I would hate to think I had hurt her terribly by my selfishness, if she had truly been deeply in love with me."
He sat staring fixedly at his cup of tea, and it was evident to her that there was more to the story. "And?" she prompted gently.
Sighing heavily, he leaned back and closed his eyes again. "And I do not know how to ever set things right with Twin."
"Twin?"
Without opening his eyes to look at her, he explained, "I mentioned that my nephew and I are the same age, but Arawine and I were so close to one another all of our lives that we were thought of as twins. How do I repair the damage I did? How do I take back the hateful things I said, even if I did not mean them?" His eyes blinked open, filled with pain. "I ran. I am here in Minas Tirith because I could not bear to be there with him, and feel so awkward around him, and I did not know how to change it. But I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life separated from him...or from Kata."
He took a swallow of tea, then raised pleading eyes to hers. "How can I ever get them to forgive me for the great hurt I caused them, and to not feel guilty – to not think they were in any way to blame? It was me, it was all my fault!"
She considered his entreaty a moment, then offered softly, "Perhaps the only way is to stop running, and to simply tell them, face to face. From what you said happened with Arawine, just before you left Edoras, I think he desires a reconciliation as much as you do, and surely Kata would not feel guilty if she saw the two of you were no longer angry with each other. Talk to them, Theodred."
He stared into his empty teacup for some time then let out a mirthless laugh. "You sound like my mother! That alone should tell me to listen to your advice! I have never known Mother to be wrong about anything! Indeed, Father would tell you she never is!" He fell silent again. At length he nodded. "Yes. I am sure Kata will return to Rohan for another visit, likely in the spring. When she comes, I will be there also and speak with them both. I want this resolved."
Esgalmir gave him an encouraging smile, then finished her tea, saying apologetically, "I truly must be returning to the shop, but I thank you for your assistance earlier, and for dinner."
Quickly Theodred rose and offered his hand to assist her, then fetched her cloak and paid their bill. They made their way slowly through the streets, now less risky since the earlier throng had dwindled considerably. At the shop door, Theodred bowed and kissed her hand. "My thanks, Esgalmir, for the company and the conversation. It felt good to unburden my heart about this matter to an unbiased listener. I am most appreciative."
"You are very welcome, my lord. Good day." She stepped inside and then watched as he moved away, back toward the upper levels of the city. A most intriguing young man this Theodred of Rohan was proving to be.
xx
The festivities of Mettare, though essentially held at the same time as Rohan's own Yule celebrations, were vastly different. It seemed virtually all of Minas Tirith was bedecked with greenery brought from the woodlands of Ithilien, and the nobility held party after party through the entire month of December, all culminating in a grand affair hosted by the king and queen at Merethrond on the night of Mettare itself.
Faramir and Eowyn chose the end of the third week for their party, and this was the one social event that the Steward's lady actually fretted about the details. She liked to do something unusual and special each year, but after nearly forty-five years, her supply of ideas was wearing thin.
Over breakfast with her two visitors, she was bemoaning her dearth of creativity this season, when she was surprised by aid from an unexpected quarter. Clearing his throat, Freahelm offered, "There is a bakery on the fourth level..." Theodred rolled his eyes and bit into his toast as Freahelm continued. "They have the most wonderful little sugared teacakes I have ever tasted. And the baker's daughter does these flower arrangements by folding paper. At first I did not realize they were made of paper they looked so real. Perhaps that would be something unusual."
Eowyn's eyes brightened. "Interesting! Will you take me there after breakfast?"
Theodred snorted. "It will be his pleasure! And he is happy to stay as long as you wish! Ow!" He bent to rub the ankle that Freahelm had kicked under the table.
Eowyn looked between the two and shook her head with amusement. She had lived closely among men far too long not to be able to guess the hidden meaning behind those cryptic words and actions. If there was not a girl involved in this somehow, she would buy out the entire bakery. Ah! The baker's daughter...
While Freahelm had become a regular customer and common sight in the bakery, the Steward's wife certainly had not. Because he was accompanying Eowyn, Freahelm was there somewhat earlier than usual, and Gimilzor was at the counter waiting on customers. The entire place fell silent at the sight of the White Lady, too astonished to speak. The largest noble households, particularly the Steward and the King, usually employed their own servants and did not need to venture out to such shops, so this was most unusual.
Finally recovering his composure slightly, Gimilzor squeaked, "May I help you, my lady?"
"Yes. My friend tells me you have some tea cakes that may interest me for my party." She looked at Freahelm, who steered her toward a display window and gestured at the ones he meant. Hastily, Gimilzor scurried over to retrieve one, and offer it to Eowyn for her to sample.
A moment later, her brow raised, obviously impressed. "You did not exaggerate, Freahelm! These are divine! Served with a raspberry tea to offset the sweetness somewhat; yes. Excellent. Would you be able to produce two hundred of these by the evening of the twenty-fourth? I wish to serve them at my Mettare gathering."
Gimilzor's eyes grew very round and his head bobbed in agitated agreement. "Yes, my lady! Of course!"
Eowyn looked around the bakery, and then told him, "Let me know if you require me to get extra help for you to meet the order, or find some place to store them. I realize that is quite an order at the last minute. Do they store well?"
"They will keep for a few days, my lady, especially in the cool weather."
"Good. Now, I wish to meet your daughter and see her flowers."
"Flowers?" Gimilzor asked in puzzlement.
"These," Freahelm explained, lifting the vase from the counter.
Eowyn took it from him and examined the bouquet closely. "You are right. These are unusual. They will do nicely. The only question is whether or not she will be able to help with the baking and make enough of these also in the little time there is left."
Gimilzor had scurried to the back of the shop and called Belwen to the front. Now she stood nervously by his side, glancing from the Lady Eowyn to Freahelm. The rest of the customers had long since forgotten about their own purchases, much too enthralled in watching the events playing out before them.
"You are...Belwen?" Eowyn asked, glancing at Freahelm, to make sure she was getting the name correct, and receiving a confirming nod.
"Yes, my lady," Belwen tentatively responded, bobbing a curtsy.
"Freahelm has brought to my attention your skill in creating these wonderful paper flowers. I am looking for something unusual to use for my Mettare gathering on the twenty-fourth. This is very short notice, and I have just hired your father to supply two hundred tea cakes for the event. Given all that, is there enough time to create decorations of these delightful flowers – as centerpieces and to scatter about the room in other arrangements? Or is that just not possible? I have no idea how long such a thing might take."
Belwen looked completely stunned by the request. "I...I...do not know, my lady..."
"Well, why do you not consider the matter the remainder of the day. I will send Freahelm back this evening when the shop closes, and he can escort you to my home. That will give you an opportunity to see what I have in mind, and what will be needed. Then you may better judge whether or not it is possible to do all or even just some. If not this year, then I will keep you in mind for next year when we have more time to prepare. In fact, I shall be pleased if you will join us for supper this evening. Do not dress specially. Just come as you are from work. That will be fine."
"Thank you, my lady," Belwen murmured, in utter bewilderment.
Eowyn clearly seemed to think their business was concluded, but Freahelm was not finished. "Are the cinnamon rolls done yet?" he asked hopefully.
With an indulgent smile, Belwen told him, "They should be ready soon."
Turning to Eowyn, Freahelm sheepishly said, "If you do not wish to wait, I will follow later. I cannot pass up my morning roll."
With a chuckle, Eowyn turned toward the door. "I will see you at the house." Then under her breath, she murmured, "The way to a man's heart..."
xx
Normally, a person would not attend a party with a pair of journals tucked under their arm, but as this was the first time Theodred would be attending the King of Gondor's celebration of Mettare, he wanted to chronicle it while it was all fresh in his mind. Too, he wondered if Esgalmir would be attending. If so, perhaps he would have the opportunity to show her pictures he had drawn of Kata and Arawine, since he had revealed so much about them to her.
Because of his connection to the royal family, he was able to arrive early and witness the event even as it was beginning to set up, before the first guests were admitted, and he noted everything as he wandered the hall. Eldarion and Luthiel were the first to join him, watching the preparations with bemusement as they stood chatting with him, before finally separating to go oversee various elements of the evening. Luthiel always took a personal interest in the entertainment for the children of the guests, and Eldarion wanted to make certain the Guards of the Citadel and their families had a pleasant time.
Freahelm finally put in appearance with a nervous looking Belwen on his arm. She had reluctantly agreed to accompany him, after Eowyn had specifically issued an invitation over supper the night they first met. The girl felt out of her element in this noble crowd, but Freahelm assured her no one would object to her presence if she was with him, by invitation of the Steward's wife.
Certainly she couldn't feel inappropriately dressed for the occasion. The very next morning after the invitation was issued, Luthiel, who was about the same size as Belwen, had turned up at the bakery with her personal seamstress in tow. A few quick measurements and they disappeared, returning hours later with the most gorgeous pale blue gown Belwen had ever laid eyes on. It fit her nearly to perfection, and she could scarcely believe it was truly her staring back from the polished metal that served as a looking glass. Her father dabbed at tears, mumbling that she looked so much like her dear, departed mother, and her sister was speechless with awe that the royal princess was giving Belwen hand-me-down gowns to wear to fancy balls.
Belwen herself almost felt as though she should refuse such generosity, but Lady Eowyn was most insistent that it be considered part of the payment for Belwen's assistance with the Mettare party, and so, in the end, she had capitulated and succumbed to this delicious dream.
Now that she actually found herself inside the Citadel, she was quite overwhelmed by the magnificence of the Merethrond, and Freahelm made it a point to take her on a tour of the hall before the dinner was served so she could see everything. Eowyn and Faramir further put her at ease by warmly greeting her, though her heart nearly failed her when they introduced her to the royal couple.
After the feast was eaten, various forms of entertainment began. The wintry weather meant strolls in the garden would be limited, but the tables were pushed back and room was made for dancing at one end of the hall, acrobats performed at the other end, and games of dice, chess, backgammon and checkers were set up at the tables for those so inclined.
Freahelm had been eagerly looking forward to the dancing, but found that his partner was far more reticent about the matter. "I am not a good dancer, Freahelm. I get confused with the steps," she claimed, resisting his efforts to draw her onto the floor.
Suddenly he leaned down and grinned charmingly at her. "Do not think about it! Just trust me, and follow what I do!" With that, he caught her by the waist and swept her onto the floor, her eyes wide with astonishment. But several minutes in, she began to relax, discovering that despite a few missteps, he kept a steady hand about her and gave her clear signals about which way to go next. When the dance concluded, Belwen was amazed to find how much she had enjoyed herself.
Quite a healthy crowd was in attendance, and Theodred strolled amongst them observing everything. Under other circumstances, he might have indulged in chess or checkers, something he was quite good at back home, but that could wait until another time. There was too much to see and note on this rare occasion to waste time on something so commonplace.
He did take time for a few dances with a couple of young ladies that gave him imploring looks, and enjoyed a few goblets of mulled wine to refresh himself. As yet, he had not spotted Esgalmir. He wondered if she had stayed away, fearing the crowd might be a danger to her safety. He hoped that was not the case, for it would be a shame for her to miss out on the fun.
Earlier, Luthiel had mentioned there was entertainment planned for the children in an antechamber, away from the main hall, and he wandered in the direction she had indicated to see what that entailed. The sound of childish laughter soon guided him to the correct location and he stepped into a room filled with boys and girls seated on the floor or standing along the side. As he glanced toward the front of the room, the smile slipped from his face and his chest constricted in pain.
Luthiel had failed to mention precisely what the entertainment was – puppeteers from Dale. Inhaling sharply, he turned quickly away and hurried out, not noticing the woman watching him from the corner of the room, and turning to slowly follow.
For several moments, he walked blindly, finally stopping in a deserted hallway and resting against a polished pillar. He laid his head against the cool stone with a heavy sigh. A soft voice, said quietly, "Theodred?" He jumped, and wheeled sharply, then relaxed when he recognized Esgalmir in the low light of the torches hanging on the wall.
"Are you well?" she asked.
He nodded wearily. "I will be. I was not expecting..." There was a bench along the wall and he gestured toward it, offering her his arm. Once they were seated, he explained, "Kata is a puppeteer, and she taught me how to do it also. I did not know that was the childrens' entertainment. I was not prepared."
Esgalmir nodded in understanding, then gently entreated, "Come, Theodred, do not let unhappy thoughts ruin the Mettare celebration for you." To his surprise, he found himself yielding, and the tension in his shoulders subsiding. Her gaze moved to the books under his arm. "What are those?"
He glanced down to follow her gaze, and pulled them out to show her. "My journals. I have been noting how Mettare is celebrated in Gondor. We celebrate Yule in Rohan and it is quite different. Plus, I thought, if you were here, you might like to see my drawings of Kata and Arawine."
"Oh, yes. I would."
For the remainder of the evening, they stayed in the hallway, going through the journals. Esgalmir confessed that she wasn't much inclined to attend such parties, since she couldn't dance and it was difficult not to be jostled in the crowded conditions, but her brother felt it important that she put in appearance, particularly at this one, so she did.
Since he had never attended a Mettare celebration, she drew him back to the main hall in time for the final singing of songs, before the evening drew to a close, and the King pronounced his blessing on the gathering and the new year.
Esgalmir sequestered herself off to the side, out of the way of the crowd as they began to disperse, and Theodred waited with her. While they stood talking, a tall, thin man put in appearance, striding quickly toward them, and Theodred felt his companion tense.
"Are you ready, Esgalmir?" He barely acknowledged Theodred.
With an amused smirk, Esgalmir pointedly introduced, "Lord Theodred, may I introduce my brother, Anbarad? Anbarad, this is Lord Theodred, of Rohan, son of King Eomer."
The change in Anbarad was tangible, and his demeanor immediately became obsequious. "My lord! It is an honor to make your acquaintance! If I may ask, how is it that you know my sister?"
Theodred restrained the annoyance twitching at his mouth and answered, "As it happens, we met in the stationers shop, which I believe you perhaps own?" He cast a questioning glance at Esgalmir, who gave him a confirming nod. "She has been most accommodating in helping me acquire the supplies I need for my work."
Anbarad's enthusiasm dampened a bit at this news; a customer was not what he had been hoping to find. He repeated his question to his sister, "Are you ready to depart?"
Esgalmir sighed, looking at the crowd that was still considerably larger than she would have liked, but she knew how impatient her brother was.
"Lord Anbarad," Theodred interrupted, "your sister and I were just discussing the Mettare traditions, which we are unfamiliar with in Rohan. I wonder if she might linger a few moments more, and I will accompany her safely home when our conversation is concluded. Is this agreeable to you?"
There was the briefest hesitation, but Anbarad had no intention of opposing the son of a king, who just might have an interest in his sister. "Certainly, my lord. That would be most agreeable. I will see you at home, Esgalmir. Good evening to you, my lord." He bowed sharply, and moved away after eyeing Theodred speculatively.
TBC
6-17-06
Esgalmir - "hidden treasure"
Anbarad – "long tower"
The Seven Bells inn is referred to by Evendim in her story "Sharpe's Trophy" and is used by permission. If it's good enough for my lovely Damrod to frequent when he can (ch. 12, above referenced story), then it's good enough for Esgalmir to recommend to Theodred!
A/N2: In case you're wondering, Theodred brought 2 journals to the party - a completed one with the drawings of Kata & Arawine and a newer one that he is presently working in.