A/N: Thanks to MBDTA for her review of ch. 10 with questions that spurred me to be more descriptive here, and give more explanation than I was originally going to. If Tracey would just wander home and keep me in line these things might not happen… So, the rest of you – go right ahead and ask questions if you like. It might inspire me to write better! Also, JuliaAurelia made a comment about Theodred's sensitivity to Esgalmir's handicap that will become more significant later on. Stay tuned!

By the way, lady scribe commented on how benevolent I've made the royal families in my stories, but when you consider the people who make up the royal families, they all "rose from the ranks" so I would expect them to be more in touch with the common man than those born to nobility and raised with the proverbial silver spoon in their mouths. And I've just presumed they've raised their children similarly. Possibly a fantasy but, hey, it's my fantasy!

The Adventures of Theodred, Son of Eomer

Chapter 12 (begins Mettare, 44 IV)

"What of this Theodred of Rohan?" her brother asked, almost the instant Esgalmir walked in the door. He had been waiting in the parlor, but now stepped into the hallway after the door had closed behind Theodred, and she had not yet removed her cloak. He made no move to help her.

She knew where this was leading, but she had no intention of helping it along. "What of him?" she replied mildly, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on her gloves as she pulled them off.

"Is he interested in you?" Anbarad persisted bluntly, watching disinterestedly as she undid the cloak and pulled it free, folding it neatly over her arm, and shuffling stiffly past him into the parlor. The chill air always made her foot and leg more rigid and inflexible, and movement was more awkward.

"I have no reason to suppose he has any particular regard for me. He is pleasant and agreeable when he comes into the shop to do business. That is all."

With a sigh, her brother fixed her with a stern look. "Esgalmir, how can you ever hope to secure a man if you will make no effort. Your prospects are limited enough, but if you will not even try there is little chance of your ever marrying. I am only interested in your welfare."

Her jaw tightened as she stared toward the window. You are only interested in ridding yourself of this thorn in your side; of finding someone else to take care of me so you will not feel obligated to do so, she thought bitterly. Steeling herself against the pain of this familiar argument, she turned with a strained smile and said, "I appreciate your concern, brother, and I will do all I can to encourage the young man if it will please you."

Before he could respond, she hobbled quickly from the room, almost in danger of falling due to her rush, and hurried to the solitude of her bedchamber. She hated this; hated being a woman at the mercy of men, especially someone so insensitive as her brother. He had become haughty, and proud of his position in society; and his disabled, unmarried sister was a vexation to him. What little help her work in the shop provided was not enough to compensate his feeling put upon for having to house, clothe and feed her, and he would gladly marry her off to any man who would have her, regardless of whether she even liked the man the tiniest bit.

She must be cautious; Theodred was an engaging person, and she must not allow Anbarad to corner him and pressure him into anything regarding her. She enjoyed his company, and in time she might even come to feel affection for him, but she would not allow her brother to force her upon anyone just so he could be rid of her. She had not told Theodred so, but she very well understood the inclination to find convenient, simple solutions to one's problems.

A soft knock at the door alerted her to the arrival of the maidservant with the hot water to soak her right foot and leg. With a sigh of resignation she moved to open the door and begin her nightly regime. The healers were not entirely certain as to the cause of her foot problems. The muscles had never fully developed properly, and tended to turn her foot inward. Most of her life she had worn heavy braces and suffered various treatments, but they were only temporary remedies at best, and somewhat painful. In truth, she sometimes preferred going without the brace, finding it easier and more comfortable to get about without it, even though the foot was not turned normally. At least it was not usually painful, and it was hidden beneath her dress. The brace rubbed against her knee, no matter how soft or thick the padding, and it was heavy enough to tire her if she moved about very much.

Once the water had been poured and the servant departed, Esgalmir eased her foot into the bath and settled back in the chair. It had been a very long evening, but she was glad she had gone, if only to talk with Theodred. She hoped he would be able to resolve this difficulty with Arawine and Kata that was causing him so much unhappiness. While she herself had never known such a warm relationship within her own family, it always touched her heart to see it in others, and gave her hope.

Her eyes fell upon the songbird that was her one true friend. Some days she felt guilty keeping it caged, thinking it terribly selfish of her to deny it its freedom, yet she could not bring herself to part with that one tiny bit of cheer in this house. Her brother, and that cold fish he had married, avoided her as much as possible, which suited her just fine. Neither were particularly good company anyway, and for the most part when they did bother with her, they steered the conversation in the direction of how generous they were being to care and provide for her, and how grateful she should be. And they were not above foisting any manner of man at her in hopes of getting her married off. Only the fact that Esgalmir's disability was less than appealing played in her favor, and though she hated to do so, she made it as disgusting as possible when she found it necessary to discourage some of the rather revolting 'gentlemen' her brother presented to her.

A headache was building as she mulled these disagreeable thoughts and, since the water was cooling anyway, she dried her foot and leg, changed into her nightclothes and settled into her bed for the night. She let out another sigh. She would have to be very strong, indeed, lest she succumb to the temptation to give into that simple, convenient solution of one man from Rohan.

xx

The new year dawned cold and bright. The air off the Anduin was chilling, and Theodred found it was not unlike the frigid temperature of the Snowbourn blowing into Edoras during the winter months. Still, there was not so much snow here as they got farther to the north, and for that he was grateful.

He spent the week after Mettare organizing his thoughts about what he might like to do in the way of recording historical tales, and what might be done with them once he had recorded them. Esgalmir had mentioned the Minas Tirith archives and told him they were on the Fifth Level. It took some doing, but he had imposed upon Eldarion to get permission for him to visit there. Eldarion was not a particularly scholarly sort and was afraid he might be pressed to accompany him. Once he was reassured Theodred only wanted his assistance, not his presence, he was far more accommodating, and Theodred happily ventured forth to examine what records they had and how they were organized, to get some ideas. Minas Tirith had also set up a public library some years ago, though private libraries were more the norm, and he made use of that facility as well.

One day, he returned to the room he shared with Freahelm to find his friend busily working at the desk.

"Where did you get all of that?" Theodred asked, eyeing the pile of coins Freahelm was counting.

His friend shrugged, answering, "Since we are ensconced here at Mundburg for a time, I thought I might as well find some sort of gainful employment." Then, noticing Theodred's eyebrow raised in surprise, hastily added, "Something that would not interefere with my assisting you, of course."

"And?" Theodred prompted curiously.

"And stud services to a Rohan stallion are always in demand, my friend. Even more than I realized. I have Faramir to thank for suggesting it, and telling me where I might post notices. Already Pyttewan is booked for the next month."

Theodred rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Tell you what – you and I both know there will not be a great deal for you to do in actually assisting me with this new venture, nor does it interest you greatly – bakeries notwithstanding." He paused to grin teasingly at Freahelm, then continued, "Offer Scildan also, do all the work, and we will split the fee equally. That adds to both our incomes, keeps you out of trouble, and you can make sure my horse is exercised regularly if we do not go riding."

It was a generous proposition, and one that could easily be taken advantage of if a man was dishonest. Freahelm was not such a man, and Theodred had no concern that he was.

"Deal," Freahelm nodded.

xx

"Theodred, come in!" King Elessar welcomed cordially. "I am sorry we have not had an opportunity to get together and speak before this."

Theodred grinned at the king and suggested, "Perhaps you have been a bit busy, my lord?"

Elessar chuckled. "No, I cannot think of anything that might have been occupying my time…" He waved Theodred to a chair, and moved to a refreshment stand to pour them each some hot tea.

Handing a cup to the younger man, he sat down and took a sip of his own, then said, "Faramir tells me you are working on some sort of history project. Tell me about it."

Enthusiastically Theodred launched into the various ideas he had been playing with, but admitted he didn't quite know what to do with them or how to make the best use of them. "I have gone to the Minas Tirith archives, and the history in general is well documented, as is the history of the kings. I am not sure anyone would read a history of the common folk, even if I were to write it, nor would private citizens likely buy it for their own library, so what purpose would it serve to write it?"

Elessar nodded his understanding, then replied, "Perhaps…I confess, I have a great love for history, as you do, and I do not like to think that many of these stories will be lost to time. But, as you have noted, the tales of the common people are often never known or retold, and certainly never recorded for posterity. I would like to commission you to prepare a collection of as many of those stories as you can – lifetales, if you will. Tales of Hobbits and Dwarves and Elves and whomever else you may meet, wherever you may find them and whatever their circumstances. I would like you to collect the stories from the Great War, but not the stories of the King, or Eomer or Theoden or the Ringbearer – the tales everyone already knows. Find the stories of the common man, of the healers, of the Ithilien rangers, of the Gondorian gate guard, of the mother in Rohan, of the sailor in Dol Amroth, of the child in Dale – what were their experiences, what valor did they see or show? You and I may be the only two people who will ever read this collection, but we will put it in the archives and we will know it is there for all time. I cannot guarantee you will be paid a great deal for this work, but I will get you what I can from my council."

Theodred's eyes were alight now with more ideas tumbling through his mind as he considered the king's proposal. "Yes…" he murmured, "and I could illustrate some of it also." His eyes came back into focus and a brilliant grin split his face. "Thank you, my lord! I am most appreciative of your consideration and help!"

"I am happy to be a party to this, Theodred. Do keep me apprised of your progress, and let me know if you need anything from me to further your cause – letters of introduction or such to pave the way. I can perhaps point you to some people to consider interviewing. Faramir likely can introduce you to his former rangers – I am sure they have many a tale to tell. And with winter upon us, if you just walk about Minas Tirith and look for the elderly, you likely will find those who remember the War – that will be a good place to begin. Ioreth is long retired from the Houses of Healings, but I understand she is still with us and living in a boarding house here in the City. Faramir may be able to locate her, or perhaps someone at the Houses knows – I have heard her mind is still strong and alert. She could share many a tale from those days, I am sure."

He rose reluctantly. "I am sorry. I do have to get back to work. Will you join us for supper some evening? And bring Freahelm with you?"

Theodred stood and nodded. "I will. Send word when it is convenient for you, my lord and we will come. And thank you again. I am most grateful!"

Elessar pulled the young man into an embrace with a chuckle. "I am grateful for the opportunity to do something I choose rather than something my council insists upon, for a change. No doubt they will balk at this, and quarrel with me about it. I am looking forward to a good fight! Thank you for that!"

xx

One thing was certain, if you wished to have doors opened to you in Minas Tirith all you needed was to be related to Lord Faramir. The citizens of the city adored the man, and not just because he was their Steward. Even all these years after the reign of the Stewards had ended, their fondness for Denethor's youngest son had not lessened in the slightest. No doubt part of that was largely due to the fact that he was generally an exceptionally fine man in his own right, but beyond his own favorable traits and characteristics, he had served this city well and faithfully his entire life, and she had never forgotten him. In many ways he was more beloved than their king, and though Elessar was well aware of this fact, he did not begrudge it in the slightest, on occasion even feeling the same about the man he called friend in private. Faramir was indeed rare.

And owing to that fact, there was no one that would deny Theodred an audience when they learned he was Faramir's nephew. They opened right up and told him anything he wished to know, and more. They plied him with cakes and tea, and most would have had him married off to their granddaughters by nightfall, given half a chance, just so they could be related to their beloved Steward.

Freahelm drew a more fortunate duty in interviewing retired healers, though even a few of the older healers still consulted in the Houses and were happy to have an ear to bend with tales of their long careers. These citizens were less likely to offer food or marriage partners, and their tales were perhaps a little drier, but if handled carefully, Freahelm could get through several in a day, whereas Theodred sometimes remained sequestered in one house an entire morning or afternoon and managed only one or two.

Feeling the need of a break, after a month of these, Theodred decided to catch a boat to Dol Amroth for a while, and do some interviewing there. Since their stallions were scheduled for breeding, it was decided Freahelm would remain behind with their horses and Theodred would go without him. Elboron had agreed to make the trip with him, though his cousin had drawn the line at helping Theodred with the interviews. Privately, he hadn't entirely ruled out the possibility of changing Elboron's mind on that subject somewhere down the road. The two set sail from the Harlond just as February was beginning.

With even more free time on his hands, Freahelm seemed to naturally gravitate more and more to the bakery. Finally, with him hanging around so much, Gimilzor began putting him to work doing odd jobs, mostly the heavy tasks that were too much for his daughters. He was happily paid with fresh, hot, cinnamon rolls!

Gimilzor had gradually warmed up to the affable young man, and found that he enjoyed having another man around to talk with on occasion. It might be that nothing would ever come of it, but certainly for the moment, the man of Rohan was obviously interested in his eldest daughter. And though she blushed and averted her eyes a great deal, he was persuaded Belwen was much taken with Freahelm also. The only question was: what would happen when the young man returned home? Gimilzor couldn't bear to think of parting with his daughter. He wasn't sure he could manage the bakery with just his youngest daughter, Thandwen, and he couldn't quite afford to hire anyone. Yet, he could not stand in the way of his daughter finding happiness either. It was just, he had always assumed his daughters would marry men of Gondor.

Knowing that Theodred was gone from the city, Belwen worked up her courage to invite Freahelm to join them for supper, which he gladly accepted. It concerned her that he might find their home unacceptably humble after the grandeur of the Steward's residence, but as he told of his life as the son of the Captain of the King's Guard, it was soon evident that his own roots were quite humble as well, and that he did not look down his nose on their circumstances.

By the time Theodred returned to Mundburg in mid-March, he found more in bloom than just the wildflowers on the Pelennor. If Freahelm wasn't smitten with the baker's daughter, Theodred would walk back to Edoras barefoot. Of course, it really was difficult to tell, considering how much time he had been spending at the bakery before Theodred went to Dol Amroth, but Theodred had recently spent far too much time in this man's company not to be able to read him well. That was the giddiest grin he'd ever seen him wear, and there could be no other cause than a pretty blond with occasional smudges of flour on her cheeks!

The realization caused both a pang of happiness for his friend, and a good measure of envy. It almost seemed as if he was destined to live his life alone. All around him everyone was finding love except for him. Was there something wrong with him that made it so much more difficult for him? Arawine and Kata flashed through his mind, and he gave a heavy sigh. Perhaps until he resolved that, he could never truly be happy. While that weighed upon him, his heart and mind would always be preoccupied.

She should be coming soon. Arawine would be eager to see her, and he was certain Kata would make the trip as soon as travel was feasible. All he had to do was figure out what to say to them when he saw them.

TBC

6-20-06

A/N2: Points of reference: in the year 45 IV, sometime during the year these people will become this age:

Freahelm, 27; Theodred, 22; Belwen, 23; Thandwen, 19; Esgalmir, 26

What exactly is wrong with Esgalmir's foot? Something along the lines of a clubfoot, though probably a mild version of that. I don't intend to get very specific beyond that.

Pyttewan – "dark hawk" (pyttel – hawk, wann – dark)

Scildan – "shield, protect"

Thandwen – "shield maiden" (in Sindarin)

Mettarë – The last day of the year