Author's Note: This is an AU fic. Thanks to Rhyselle for the brainstorming and Evendim for the inspiration.

Disclaimer: The characters, events and places you recognize are copyright to J.R.R. Tolkien, his estate and heirs, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, and their licensees. Any characters, events or places you don't recognize are my own creation and copyrighted to me.

A Hidden Hope – Chapter Two

by Dancingkatz

Late February T.A. 3019 - Edoras - Prince Theodred's bedroom

Eowyn frowned as her fingers caught on a hidden braid in her cousin's brown hair. She'd cleaned and dressed the terrible wound and managed to get Theodred to swallow a few drops of water. The bleeding had finally stopped but he hadn't regained consciousness. Frankly, she didn't expect him to. Gut wounds were tricky; if infection started nothing could save the man who had been so struck. No one knew how long the prince had lain in the fetid morass that was the Fords of Isen before Eomer and his men had found him.

Parting the long, silky hair, she found the braid in question and stifled a gasp of surprise. It had been purposefully hidden behind his left ear, the heart-side, and no wonder. No warrior braid this, the complicated six-stranded weaving was secured by the unmistakable gold band of a married Rider.

Theodred hadn't been seen in Edoras in many months, not since an especially acrimonious confrontation with his father that sent the prince back to Helms Deep and the Westfold, vowing not to return to Meduseld unless the viper, Grima, was evicted.

She'd barely had time to greet him that day as he'd hurried up the stairs of the Hall intent on his business, but she remembered that he'd had a lightness to his step that had long been missing. Less than an hour later, he stormed down those same stairs in a rage and ridden out again for the Westfold on his stallion, Brego, with Erkenbrand and the rest of his escort following closely behind.

Was that the business which had brought him to Edoras that day? Had he come to ask a blessing on his marriage to whatever unknown lady his bride might be?

It was unheard of that the King's son should wed without permission, but Theo had never really been one to follow the rules. If he had, she'd never have learned as much as she now knew of swordcraft. He was the one who had dug out his boyhood armour for her use and taught her how to defend and attack from on horseback and afoot. He was the one who had paid no attention to the fact that no woman of the Mark had become a shieldmaiden in over a century, and had done everything he could to further her goal of restoring the presence of the women warriors in the eóreds of the Riddermark.

"Those who do not live by the sword may still die upon them."

She hid the braid again as she remembered Theodred's words to his father when Theoden had initially objected to Eowyn's training, once the King had discovered their clandestine practice sessions.

He'd wed in secret, and she knew that fact had to remain a secret. Grima was growing more and more powerful in the Court, and if—Bema forbid—Theodred had fathered a child, the infant's life would be worth less than a bent straw.

There was little she could do for her cousin but keep him company, feed him willow tea for the pain, and pray to Bema that there'd be no infection in the wound. She'd keep his secret until the end. Grima had dishonourably killed before; the vile worm would have no compunction about ending the life of an innocent babe if he could break the line of succession.

The woman - Theodred's princess – had to be at Helm's Deep, and wondering why he hadn't returned from the sortie. If Eomer hadn't been banished, Eowyn would have shared her discovery with him and sent him to Helm's Deep to deliver the bitter news of her husband's fall. But there was no one else available that she trusted to send. Gamling and Hama both had their hands more than full trying to keep Grima's machinations from going too far here in Edoras.

The brown hair now smoothed against the pillow and the telling braid once more hidden from sight, Eowyn lay her hand against the side of her royal cousin's face and thanked Bema that as of yet, there was no fever.

"Live, cousin. Live for her, if not for Rohan," she whispered.

Helm's Deep – Thirteen Months previously

Edlyn finished the song then looked up when the mare sifted her weight uneasily, and saw that she was no longer alone. The Second Marshal was standing nearby, his hand on the withers of another of the mares with an expression that she could not read.

If her father Erkenbrand had been there—if anyone else had been there—she would not have spoken, but something about the way Prince Theodred stood spoke to her heart so she took her courage into her hands and approached him, speaking softly.

"Is your highness well?"

He jumped at her words, startling the mare. It was only the reflexes born of years of living with horses that let him evade suddenly dancing hooves and a tossing head.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Edlyn wished she had just returned to the keep instead of speaking. "Did she…."

"No, I avoided her hooves. Your pardon, my lady, I was leagues away," Theodred spoke the words as if they were an automatic response, not really directing them at her.

"It was truly my fault. I should not have startled you." Edlyn replied, embarrassed beyond reason that he would find it necessary to apologize to her. "I will leave you to your thoughts, your highness."

"No. I mean, there is no need." His mind had left whatever grim thoughts had preoccupied him and all his attention was now turned on her. "I saw you were with Idesgrǽg. Do you think she'll drop twins again this year?"

"Perhaps, but my father taught me never to count the foal's legs until they are all on the ground." She glanced sideways up at his face and dared to continue. "Which way is your bet running?"

"I don't bet. It's a fool's game."

"My brothers do, and they always lose. Of course, I oughtn't to complain since the last bet they made me was that Ǽfenglóm could climb the stairs to the horn chamber. When he was sensible enough to drop Ceorlaf into the culvert and head for his stall instead, they paid for my new cloak." She was gratified when Theodred laughed.

"I remember that. I don't know who looked more disgusted, Ceorlaf or Deor," he said, amusement in his voice; amusement which turned to chagrin as he continued, "I didn't even know Erkenbrand had a daughter." He'd been able to place her once he'd heard her brother's names.

Edlyn shrugged and reached up to rub the mare's forehead to distract her from nibbling on her hair. "I'm sure they wish he hadn't, but they're stuck with me. I'm not surprised they never mention me, since it's my job to point out how foolish they're being, but I love them anyway."

Theodred laughed again. "I begin to think I was lucky to be born an only child. Are all younger sisters like you?"

Pleased that her nonsense was lifting his mood, she answered him as though the question was serious. "I'm sure I can't say, your highness. Not having a little sister, I'm only qualified to comment on the miseries and joys of having older brothers."

"Perhaps I'll make the inquiry to Ceorlaf or Deor when next I see them. It sounds as though they should be experts on the subject."

Catching movement from out of the corner of her eye, Edlyn turned to see her brothers approaching with some of their latest boon companions. "You can ask them now, your highness. If you will pardon me, I think I'll return to the keep rather than listen to whatever slanders they find to say about me." She smiled and curtseyed before walking back to the gate, offering pats and soft words to the mares as she passed between them.

She glanced back once. It appeared that he'd asked Deor a question, and from the pained look on her second eldest brother's face he'd took her at her word. At the least, it seemed that she'd cheered him up.

TBC

Glossary:

Ǽfenglóm – "Twilight"