Orcs, Dungeons and Little Sisters.

Chapter One.

A/N. This is the sequel to Orcs and Babes. It takes place four years later.

“It’s not fair,” Eomer grouched as he dragged his feet along the corridors to his bedchamber, opening the door and was about to slam it shut, but thought better of it. He threw himself face down on his bed, burying his head under the bolster, and he lay sulking and kicking his legs for a long time.

Theodwyn opened his chamber door, looking down at her muddy wet son laid on his bed, and on clean linens, do you mind.

“Eomer!” she scolded.

No answer from under the pillows, muffled as he was to any sounds.

A hand shook his shoulder and his mothers’ voice, “Eomer!”

He sat up and his mother pulled him from the bed into another chamber of which was a hot bath waiting. Eowyn’s nurse - maid, Grethwyn, passed them holding a small tearful girl, swathed in huge drying cloths. She was duly taken to her bedchamber to be dried and dressed.

Eomer was then summarily undressed and climbed himself into the steaming water, not daring to protest at the look on his mothers face. He knew that look and no whining or cajoling would soften her mood when it was thus placed.

Eomer managed to wash himself mostly, his mother only helping with his hair and back. After all he was eight now and really did not need to be bathed, but he would rather fight a dragon than explain this fact to his mother at the moment.

Silence hung over the room, the only sounds were the splashes and occasional cough from inhaled water dripping onto his face. When she was satisfied on the cleanliness of her son, she lifted him out of the tub with a slight grunt. He was getting quite big now for his age and her strength had not fully recovered since she had miscarried of her third child some two months ago.

On top of that both her offspring had caught a strange scarlet sickness that had spread through Aldburg. A rash and fever of which had stricken only children, and in fact there had been two deaths from this disease. Both Eomer and Eowyn had fallen foul of this malady and had been quite ill, both being confined to bed with a high temperature and vomiting. With Eomund away on a long patrol she had had a busy and anxious time nursing her young, and also suffering from the aftermath of her own recent condition.

So it was no wonder that the lady of Rohan was livid with her son when she realised where he had been playing that day, and to take Eowyn with him also. It was just too much.

When Eomer was dressed she marched him into her chambers where a now calm Eowyn was waiting, sat on the knee of her nurse.

“Leave us Grethwyn, if you please, I wouldst have words with these two.” She spoke grimly. The nursemaid bobbed a curtsey and left the room.

Eomer sat on the large bed and immediately his sister ran straight to him and settled herself on his lap giggling. He scowled at her but this only made her laugh more.

“Eomer, have you no sense,” his mother started, “You are only just from your bed with sickness which had afflicted you so badly, and yet you must needs to get yourself soaked in the stream, and what is more, you must take Eowyn with you.”

“Mother…I….” Eomer stuttered trying to get a word in.

“Your lord father is still away on patrol, and I know not when he shall return and here you are giving me a fright with your antics when you should be still at your rest.”

“I am sorry, mother, I did not mean to scare you,” answered Eomer, eyes cast down and feeling a little sorry for himself, not understanding how ill he had been and why his mother was so angry.

Theodwyns heart softened a little, she knelt in front of her son and embraced him, as Eowyn threw her arms round her mama’s neck.

“Well, then it is forgotten, but why must you have got your sister so wet when you know she rose from her sickbed only a day after you?” his mother chided gently.

She picked Eowyn up and walked out of the room to go to the halls to meet with her ladies, “Please remain in your room until the evening meal…”

“But Mother….”

“No, but Mother.” Said Theodwyn firmly.

“Not fair…not my fault…” Eomer pouted and returned to his room. The servants had just been in and changed the linen on his bed. He sat at his favourite place in the window and gazed out at the populace of Aldburg. He wished his father were home or that he could be allowed in the stables. He even found himself wishing he were back to his lessons again, odious though they were, but the healer had said another sevenday ere he could return to his training. It was going to be a long, long week he mused.

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The following morn brought the unexpected return of Eomund and his Eored. They were as exhausted as their horses and the stable area was bustling with life, grooms and stable hands tending to the tired beast, wives and children hoping to spot the safe return of their loved ones. The patrol had been hard and Eomund had lost six riders, six good and loyal men, and was even now speaking to the families involved, comforting those bereaved by their losses.

On returning to the halls Eomund proceeded to his chambers where his wife waited with weary patience, plus two leaping bundles of energy. As he opened the door he deftly scooped both children up in one arm and wrapped the other round the waist of his wife, and spun them all round the room to the shrieks and giggles of his young ones.

“Father...”

“Papa...”

“Did you miss me…?”

“Miss me…?” alternated Eomer and Eowyn almost in unison.

“Yes, I missed both of you,” said Eomund laughing, kissing both soundly on their golden heads, “Now run and play while your mother assists me with my armour and bath.”

Eomer grabbed his sisters’ hand and they ran down to the halls, where other riders would be arriving and they would hear some good stories told.

“Well, wife, “ said Eomund tenderly, stroking his ladies hair with a gentle hand, “How be you?” She looked tired and worn and when he heard of the sickness of both infants Eomund was shocked. He had been concerned to leave his wife after she had miscarried, but she insisted he go, saying it was just one of those things! Eomund was worried, his wife was looking peaked and was far from well herself. He would see to her rest now that he was back, and would personally speak to her healer on the morrow.

After a hot bath and good sup Eomund felt more like to himself. He was still weary beyond count, but he must see to his family. That they had all suffered in his absence had not gone unnoticed, he would see them all well and hale again before he even dreamt of taking his own ease. His wife had retired to her chamber to rest, this was unusual, she was never so and it troubled him mightily. She slept deeply on his check and he could hear laughs and giggles coming from the next chamber. Both his offspring were playing together. Eomer had Eowyn tied up, she was captive of a dragon and he was to rescue her. He paused in the open doorway and smiled to see them thus.

Eomund sought out his wife’s ladies and asked of them all that had occurred since his absence. They were truthful and after listening to the happenings within his halls he knew he had to act hastily to get his wife back to good health.

Very shortly a missive was being carried by a fast rider to Edoras….. a missive to a much loved brother.

Eomund was about to leave his study when a servant informed him that one of his riders insisted he be seen. Permission was given and Beoring, of his Eored, entered, a grave expression on his face. He was accompianed by Brandig, his son of twelve summers. Beoring was bade to sit and discuss what troubling issues he had brought to the house of Eomund.

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Eomer and Eowyn had tired of their games and crept along the corridor to seek their mother. The heavy wooden door was pushed slowly open, and two blonde heads peeked into the large chamber. They tiptoed to the bed, but their mother stirred not, so exhausted was she, that she slept deeply.

“Mama is in bed,” protested Eowyn, and was about to climb up on the bed to reach her, but was stopped by Eomer.

“Let’s find father, Wyn,” he whispered, “ Mother looks tired.”

Eowyn happily agreed and the two left the chamber, Eowyn hanging onto the back of her big brothers tunic as they scuttled down the corridor.

They entered the halls looking for their father, he was not there and they stood a while wondering what to do next when the door to Eomunds study opened and their father appeared. He was about to send a servant to seek for Eomer and request his presence but he spotted his son and called him over. Eomer ran over eagerly, Eowyn following behind.

Eomund called for one of the maids to take his daughter to her nurse- maid, and Eowyn was led away in tears at being parted from them both.

Eomer looked up to his father, a puzzled expression on his face, “Father?” he questioned.

Eomund looked down upon his child, a stern angry look was in his eyes, “I want an explanation, if you please, of the events which occurred yesterday.” He beckoned Eomer into the room, and the child entered, trustingly, wondering why his father was so displeased.

Beoring stood up and glared at Eomer, “So, this is the youngling who has no better manners than an orc!!”

Eomer paled and looked beseechingly at his father, his eyes pleading.

Eomund, stood by the side of his son, a hand resting gently on his shoulder, of which Eomer was most grateful.

“Now, my son,” Eomund asked firmly but kindly, “Tell me why you thought to fight, and to harm another in the fracas with your rage.”

TBC.

Orcs, Dungeons and Little sisters.

Chapter Two.

It was early morning and the sun was starting to stream in through the windows of the large bedchamber. Together snuggled in the bed lay Eomund, his wife nestled in his strong arms, strong arms that wanted to protect his beloved from all further hurts. The lady Theodwyn had slept the eve and night through, to the worry of her husband, but both were awake now and from within the bed came soft laughter followed by a deep chuckle. His body ached for intimacy, but she was so frail in his arms that he curbed his desires until she were well again. At least her sense of humour was still strong and she laughed once more over the disgruntlement and embarrassment of Beoring.

“I cannot help but feel remorse, my beloved,” she whispered.

“About?”

“I gave blame to Eomer, for the soaking the pair of them received. I was so angry and fearful for their health..” she paused, biting her lip, “I didst not listen to our son and gave punishment without hearing the facts. For this I caused him distress. I …”

Eomund tightened his arms around his wife and held her close, kissing her softly, “Our son, loves you, sweetling,” Eomund spoke softly, nuzzling her neck gently, and said thoughtfully, “Eomer oft-times appears older than his years, that this will help much when he comes to man-hood I have no doubt. He knows you were sick and will book no blame.” He tried to comfort his wife.

Theodwyn sighed and relaxed into the comforting embrace of her husband, she lifted her head slightly to look at him and smiled, “But Eowyn, husband. Who would have thought it?”

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The previous day a rather irate Beoring had stormed from the halls of the Marshal, his son Brandig following behind somewhat downcast. He stopped and turned to face his son, “Never in my life…” he bellowed, “Never in my family…home boy” he announced to his rather dour and shamefaced offspring.

That same morning had seen Eomer and his sister out of doors for the first time in a ten-day following their recent sickness. It was a warm day, else they would still have confined indoors. Eomer had his by now rather battered sword and his sister followed with her favourite doll, Mthilda. They played in the warm sunshine and gradually got nearer and nearer to the little stream, which ran by the edge of the large garden area.

Of a sudden came some other children and at first they played happily together, the boys games getting rowdier and more boisterous, then of a sudden one of the older boys, Brandig began to tease Eowyn. Eomer noticed and stormed up and valinantly tried to defend his sister, but as Brandig was much stronger, he was powerless to stop him snatching ’Mthilda’ away from her. Eowyn wept bitterly at this and Eomer was much enraged by the act. Brandig ran away and tossed Mthilda into the stream and then laughed heartily as Eowyn sprinted forward to retrieve her toy, which caused her to trip over her skirts and she then fell headfirst into the running water.

Eomer rushed immediately into the cold water himself to pull his weeping sister out of its embrace. He held her close as she was shivering, himself not much better and tried to comfort her.

“Mthilda,” she sobbed, “W.. w..ant Mthilda,” Eowyn pointed downstream to where her doll was being carried. Without hesitation Eomer back ran into the cold water again and retrieved the toy for his Eowyn, to the rather loud catcalls and jeers from Brandig.

Eowyn marched up to the much bigger and older boy and shouted at him, “You hurt Mthilda, you, you….orc.”

Brandig leant over to pull at her plaits and Eowyn raised her little hand and whacked him in the eye. Brandig was so surprised he backed away holding his face in his hands. He and his friends ran off before Eomer returned, they feared that if the small daughter of the Marshal could act so, what would the older brother do? Eomer returned to his sister’s side, rather uncomfortably holding before him a bedraggled and soggy Mthilda.

She smiled at her brother and hugged her retrieved doll with joy.

“Where did Brandig go,” asked Eomer scowling, looking around.

Eowyn just shrugged her shoulders, happy that she had Mthilda back in her grasp once again.

Eomer sneezed, and Eowyn looked at him and giggled, “Your lips are blue,” she pointed. Eomer touched his mouth as if to feel them so.

“So are yours “ he answered brushing her lips with his fingers and noticed that she was still shivering, “Let us to home, Wyn.” Eowyn nodded happily and held her brothers hand tightly as they walked up the large garden back to the house in which they dwelt. Eomer had a sinking feeling that their mother would none be too pleased when she saw the state of their return, but she would understand when he had explained what happened.

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“So, beloved,” said Eomund, “Imagine the feelings of Beoring when he saw his son sporting a black eye…

“And,” Theodwyn laughed, “How could the son save face and say ‘twas a four year old girl-child who had afflicted it there upon…but,” she went on, “It was most unfair of him to put the blame to Eomer, I hope you judged on this, and in the lad’s misbehaviour.”

“Aye, but not I deem as much as the father will judge and punish when they were to home. He is a strict man and unfortunetly spares not the rod within his house, though he knows my feelings on this issue. I deem Brandig would have spoken truth had he not been so feared of his sires wrath.”

“Poor boy,” Theodwyn sighed, “no child should be punished so…” her voice broke to tears as her loss surfaced as it was want to do when matters turned to the talk of children.

Eomund held her closer and soothed her with words of love and tenderness, ere she rested in his arms and he rose not but lay with her. All matters could wait he would not leave his wife again at this time, not now when she needed him so much.

An hour later, the patter of feet was heard in the corridor, “I deem our young have awakened, husband,” said Theodwyn, “I suppose we should expect an invasion shortly.”

Eomund laughed, “Aye, sweetling, we had better brace ourselves for attack.”

A tiny voice was heard outside the door and the latch rattled, “Mama?”

“Enter, sweet daughter,” boomed Eomund, whereupon a delighted Eowyn flew into the bedchamber and he deftly scooped her in his arms afore she leapt on her mother.

“Child,” Eomund chided gently to his daughter, “Tell truth to me, did’st you harm the son of Beoring yesterday at play?” He looked down in mock sternness at his daughter. “I wonder how we have reared such a rapscallion?” he spoke as he tickled her gently.

“He hurt Mthilda, Papa.” Admonished Eowyn with a glare and a giggle, “ And Eomer saved her, he pulled her from the water.”

“Where is your brother?” asked Theodwyn, almost guiltily.

“Here, mother,” answered Eomer from the doorway, where he had been watching. He was worried, his mother looked so pale and white and he had been most unhappy to incur her anger.

“Then come within and warm your feet,” chided his mother gently, smiling at him. That was all Eomer needed and he dashed to the bed, clambered up slowly and wrapped his arms around her.

“I am sorry I listened not to you, my own,” she whispered into his ear. Tears filled his eyes as he looked into her beautiful face.

“Mother…” he started, then paused, biting his lip.

“What is it, my own,” she coaxed, brushing her cheek against his blonde mane.

“You will be well again mother… you will…?” he stammered, with a look of fear in his dark eyes.

A sudden sadness passed over her face, she had lost much blood since losing the babe and still bled a little even now, two months on, “Yes, my own,” she kissed him lightly. Eomer smiled back, but the worry was still nagging into him.

Eomund leant over and stoked his sons head, “I think a change of scenery will help?”

“Where?”

“Where, father?”

Eomund paused and a huge grin crept over his face, Eowyn climbed atop her Papa and pressed nose to nose, “Where Papa?”

Eomer remained close to his mother, “Yes, husband,” she inquired again “Where wouldst you send us?”

“Eomund stretched and bounced his daughter on his chest, hearing her tinny laugh as she enjoyed her ride “Meduseld, to visit your kin,” he said softly.

Theodwyn grinned,” Meduseld! Oh yes, I would so love to see my brother, it has been far too long. But,” she paused,” Will the journey be safe, with the children travelling with us.”

“Safe enough to be escorted by the royal guard,” Eomund replied, with a grin, “I did send a message to Theoden King for this request and I know he will oblige. So we travel in a seven - day. I shall ride as escort to see you safe, but I must needs return to protect the borders, nay beloved, look no so downcast, for I will ride to visit as and when I am able.” He leant over to brush his lips over his wife’s face.

Indeed Eomund had another reason for Theodwyn to travel. One of the best healers in the Mark dwelt in Edoras and he had written to the king of his sister’s condition so she would hope to find healing there and also much needed rest in her childhood home.

Both siblings began to chatter excitedly about the forthcoming trip, bouncing up and down on the bed and asking incessant questions to a patient Eomund, who tried to answer them as quick as they were fired. Theodwyn lay contentedly watching her babes’, so full of life they were; so impatient to know everything about Meduseld; so happy.

TBC.

Chapter Three.

The night was quiet, the only sounds audible were the stomping of horses hooves, the low voices of the riders talking together and the muffled sobs of a child. Theodwyn rose silently and paced the tent they were to sleep in that night and tried to soothe the distressed youngster, whispering comforts at the same time as trying to talk to her husband…

“I didst pack it..”

“Well ‘tis not in here..”

“We will get no rest until…”

“I will look to the packhorses…”

“Be swift, husband, lest the whole camp is astir this night..”

Eomund kissed his wife swiftly and walked to the flap on the large tent he shared with his wife and children and felt the night air cool him as he walked outside. He obtained a flaming brand and walked in the direction of the makeshift stabling area where the horses were tethered for the night.

One of the night guards spotted him and swiftly ran to his side, “My lord marshal,” he stammered, “Is there ought I can assist you with.”

“Nay,” Eomund brushed him aside and continued his task. He had reached the area and began to look through the packs, muttering under his breath as he rummaged, his temper becoming more fraught as he searched. Finally in the last bag Eomund gave a sigh of relief when he had found that for what he was seeking and began to walk back to his sleeping area.

The riders had been informed that the marshal was about the camp and many eyes and ears looked to his safety. But it was with much amusement on the faces of the escort as the powerful Chief Marshal walked back to his wife and children holding in his hand a small tow haired doll.

Breddar approached, “Is all well, my lord?” he inquired, trying valiantly not to smirk.

Eomund smiled grimly back and brandished the doll, “Aye, it is now. We all may get some sleep once this has been returned to my daughter.”

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The previous morning Eomer had stood in front of his home, mouth agape, eyes staring at the sight before him. A company of the King’s royal guard were mounted and ready to perform their duty. They were dressed in full battle armour bearing the standard and emblem of the house of Eorl. The morning sun glinting off their shields’ and the black plumes from their helmets were being stirred slightly by the warm wind. They were to act as honour guard and protection for the princess Theodwyn and her children. One of those being an excited eight year- old boy, of whom was most impressed by the sight before him. One of Eomer’s greatest delights was to watch the departure and sometimes arrival of his fathers Eored, but his eyes took in this new sight and he was utterly captivated.

Eomer remembered little of his uncle’s last visit, only that he was kind and loving, and it was a splendid thing to be lifted into his arms and listen to his deep booming voice. He had been so excited the seven-days preceeding the journey that his parents had despaired of him sleeping ever again.

For the first three nights he had woken at all hours of the night and dashed noisily into their chambers asking questions about Edoras and the forthcoming journey. Eventually this gave cause for Eomund to lose his temper and he had shouted quite harshly at his son, fearing only for his wife’s disturbed rest. He had regretted this act almost immediately when he saw the lads’ downcast face and watery eyes.

Therefore in the morn Eomund had decided on a new action and had taken Eomer to the stables every eve before bed, to help with the horses and checking the tack for their trip. This extra activity had helped to tire him out and thus enabling a full nights sleep. Although he was still up before dawn, bursting with energy.

The day of travel arrived and Eomund himself and twelve of his best riders rode as extra protection. Nothing in Middle Earth would have made Eomund leave the care and protection of his family in other hands than his own. They were his life.

The management and care of the East-fold was left in the capable hands of his most trusted captain, Erwin. They had been boy-hood friends and had fought together on many occasions. The pack- horses were ready and lady Theodwyn was mounted on her mare, Eowyn before her on the saddle. It was suggested that she make the journey in a small cart due to her health, but she flatly and stubbornly refused and even Eomund who knew his wife keenly, bit his tongue and asked not again.

Eomund was mounted on Windstorm, and Eomer was on his own steed, a pony suited to his age and size whom Eomer had named Helm after the favourite of his ancestors. Eomer was a most adept rider, having been schooled by his father, and the skills he showed for horsemanship were very advanced for his years. His proud father looked down upon his young son as he rode next to him, well protected within the inner circle of the Eored.

Eomund rode to the front of the riders and called out, “Eolingas, to the King, his deep voice announced.

He rode back to the centre to ride next to his wife and children and the host left the safety of the Aldburg to ride across the grasslands and plains to Edoras, chief city of the Riddermark.

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So, after his daughter had fallen to sleep at last, Mthilda clutched to her, Eomund lay next to his wife and held her closely. Eomer was snuggled in his blankets, a small smile on his face from the excitement of the ride and forthcoming journey. All slept well that first night, save Eomund. His thoughts were on the many dangers of which could befall the escort, he would neither rest nor sleep properly ‘til his family were safely esconced in Meduseld.

The days were warm and the party encountered no dangers on their outgoing trip. Theodwyn seemed to regain a little colour from the ride and being out in the fresh air, of which Eomund had noticed, but still his worries for her health were rife.

Every night that they camped, Eomer had been bursting himself to help, and soon came under the notice of the Kings escort. They were much taken with this young son of the house of Eorl, his enthusiasm to assist the men, even when the tasks were too difficult; his love and loyalty to his mother and father; and especially the care and devotion he showed to his younger sister.

Soon in the distance on the horizon could be glimpsed the glint of gold, shining from the immense roof of the Golden Hall. Eomund had sent a messenger to inform the king of their imminent arrival and all looked forward to sleeping on soft beds and enjoying good food and ale, and the meeting of close kin.

From the outer gates to the city a small party of riders emerged, prince Theodred riding at its head to greet and honour the visit of his Royal aunt and her children. The two groups of riders neared and soon there was much joy and greeting as kin embraced kin.

Eowyn shied away from her big cousin and totally hid her face within the pleats and folds of her mother’s riding dress. Eomer grinned at Theodred, remembering the ride they had shared together upon Feyerth, and giggled as he felt himself being lifted from his pony and snuggled close to his kin upon the mighty grey war horse.

As they neared the city gates Eomund reached over and placed Eomer back upon Helm, leaving Theodred chuckling as to his young cousins naming of his steed, and together the royal party rode into the mighty city of the Horse-Lords.

It seemed that the entire city had been informed as to the return of their beloved white lady and her family, the streets were packed with good wives and many tradesmen as the party made its way up through the myriad streets to the royal stables. The crowds waved and cheered when their Princess came into view. Eowyn was frightened and clutched her Mama close at the sight and noise of the welcome, as for Eomer, well, his dark eyes tried to take everything in at once.

He had never seen so many people; children running alongside cheering and laughing; merchants plying their wares from the busy streets; riders, enjoying well- earned ease from patrols, drinking from the many inns within the city. Eomund looked down fondly as his son took in all these new sights and sounds and laughed out loud when he saw the boys face as they neared the royal stables.

“Father…” he pointed.

“Yes, my son,” laughed Eomund, “We stable the horses there and then make our way to Meduseld, to the king.”

The royal stables in Edoras were the biggest and grandest that Eomer had ever seen, or would ever see in his lifetime. They were so large that the house of Eomund could be placed within its perimeter. All the nobility of Rohan stabled therein and the tired party reined in their mounts as at least a dozen stable lads ran out to assist and help with the horses.

The stable master, Tilden, approached and bowed his reverence to the party, Eomund led Windstorm himself, and settled him in a loose stall, with Theodwyns mare and Helm.

“Hailsa and welcome home, my lady,” Tilden bowed to the princess, “’Tis good to see you again.”

“Thank you, Tilden,” Theodwyn smiled back, “It has been too long, old friend.”

Tilden had had the honour of teaching the lady Theodwyn to ride when she was but a girl, and he was much esteemed in Meduseld. He barked his orders to the stable-boys as the area teemed with activity.

Eomund led his family to the steps of which would take them to the courtyard of the palace itself, Eomer lagging behind looking over his shoulder taking in the sights and smalls of the city below him.

Theoden himself met them not in the halls but rushed out to greet his sister in the courtyard. The guards stood tall and proud as their lord passed by and brother and sister embraced and cared not who would think it unseemly. He then looked to her face and the paleness of her skin froze him for an instant.

“Brother,” boomed Theodred as he and Eomund embraced, their eyes meeting briefly in unspoken fear, “And where are your small charges,” he inquired looking round for the siblings.

“Eomer,” he picked his nephew up and held him close,” Bema, but you have grown boy, did I not say once you would outstrip your sire, I will prove right one day I swear.” He spoke jovially, trying to mask his emotions upon seeing how frail his dear sister appeared. “And this must be little Eowyn, why sister she has your look at that age, has she not?” Said Eowyn threw herself into her Mama’s arms and trembled slightly at this new voice.

Servants had taken the travelling chests into the halls and stowed them into the guest chambers, while Theodred led his aunt and cousins inside to refresh, leaving the brothers-in-law to their own conversation.

“I understand your concerns, brother, thank you for bringing her home.”

“I brought my wife for healing and rest, my king, and when this is achieved, I will take her and my family home to Aldburg.” Eomund snapped.

“Aye, brother, I spoke hastily through love, and we both love her do we not,” answered Theoden.

“Yes, my king, we do. I would but see her well again.” He sighed and briefly covered his eyes with one hand.

“Come inside, for you are wearied, and please forgive a doting brother.”

Eomund bowed briefly as he felt the kings’ hand grasp his shoulder in mute sympathy as they walked together into the halls.

TBC.

Orcs, Dungeons and Little Sisters.

Chapter Four.

He woke, it was dark, the nightly noises were somewhat strange, not what he was used to at all. A sudden urge to find his mother ran through him and Eomer sprang out of bed and went to his chamber door to open it…but the door was not there any more and it was so dark in the room he could not see his whereabouts. Panic rose within and his small hands feverishly groped their way along the wall, until he felt a differing texture, the wooden panels of the door. With a sigh of relief he turned the handle and rushed out into the corridor. Eomer froze at the confusing sight before him, a long corridor lay to left and right, a corridor of uncertainty.

 He was frightened, and instinct told him to head for the safe haven of his mothers arms but where was she? Before him were a myriad of doors up and down the long corridor, but behind which door lay his mother and father, ignorant to their son’s needs?

Rich hangings and tapestries billowed gently in the night causing him to shiver and not only with cold, a sudden noise from the guards in the halls below echoed loudly causing Eomer to run blindly down the long passageway desperately seeking comfort.

He opened a door at the far end of the long corridor, hopeful of finding his parents and froze when a voice shouted, “Who in the name of Eorl….OUT…get out ere I call the guard…”

“Sorry, uncle…” sobbed Eomer, recognizing the kings deep voice. He turned and was about to flee but before he got any further, strong arms lifted him and held him close.

“Hush, nephew, I didst not mean to alarm you, but you gave me quite the scare, bursting in on me like that.” He could feel Eomer trembling and his bare feet were as blocks of ice. It had been long years since he had woken up in the night to a child’s needs, and Theoden brought Eomer back within his chamber and placed him in the huge bed, as he had done with Theodred when his own son needed him in the night.

The king deftly wrapped a warm coverlet round the shaking form and held Eomer close to soothe his night fears away. “Well now, nephew,” he whispered gently looking down on the white face with love, “What brings you out of bed at this hour?”

“I..I..” stuttered Eomer, “I..I ..where is mother? I could not find her,” his voice shook still a little.

“Your mother rests, nephew, she is safe this night. Will you sleep now and seek her in the morn?” asked Theoden, realising that Eomer was but a child still and nothing but his mothers’ arms would do to placate his fears, but his brotherly concern for his sister’s health and rest reared into his mind also.

Eomer pondered and looked to his uncle as he spoke again, “If you like, you may stay here with me.”

Eomer smiled, “Here?”

“Yes, here. Would you like that?”

“And see mother in the morn?”

“At mornings first light,” Theoden smiled as Eomer yawned and nestled closer for warmth and together the king and future king drifted back into dreamless sleep.

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It was with much amusement the following morn when Theodwyn learnt where her firstborn had slept the previous night, Eomund relating the tale with gusto whilst watching his wife eat of her breakfast from the full tray of food she had been given. A knock at the door announced Theoden himself and Eomund bowed as his king entered the chamber.

“Sister, you slept well?” he inquired, his eyes taking in her pallor.

“Aye brother mine, more than you though I deem?” Theodwyn laughingly answered.

“It seems the whole of Meduseld knows of my bed-partner,” frowned the king, “Glad am I that it was not such a bed-partner of whom gossip would be rife!”

“Brother, such words,” exclaimed Theodwyn, “What if the children would hear.” She scolded, to Theodens laughter of which reminded him heartily of her childhood years.

Eomer and Eowyn were both in the next chamber playing together, the door ajar so that their mother could listen for any mischief making.

Theoden glanced at his sisters children and then walked up to the bed and sat down next to his Theodwyn and spoke softly so as not to be overheard.

“Sister, the healer Lowell will see you shortly as Edmund requested and also an old friend, he added with a small smile.

“Whom?” inquired Theodwyn.

“Patience, and all will be revealed,” Theoden answered, spinning round as he heard the patter of feet running in behind him and stood to pick Eomer up and swung him round as Eowyn hid shyly still behind her Papa. Theoden held his arms out to his niece and she looked up to Eomund and on seeing his smile, reached out a hand to her Uncle and was hoisted aloft also to join in with her brothers’ giggles.

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Later that morn Theoden sat with Eomund in his study, they had been discussing defences, had been discussing anything and everything to take their minds off their combined worries. A sharp knock on the door struck like a death knell, as Theoden bade Lowell enter and glanced grimly to Eomund whose face was stern and impassive. Accompanying the healer was Edythe, a renowned and experienced midwife in Edoras, the same Edythe of whom had tended the lady in the safe delivery of her son.

“Well,” the king barked harshly, his emotions reeling.

“The lady Theodwyn must rest and eat heartily of certain foods to replenish her body,” answered Lowell, “If she follows well this regime, her health will be much improved…”

“And tisanes of which must be given,” Edythe added, “Part of the birth sac remains within and if not expelled there is risk of infection and fever, my lord. When this has been expelled the lady will feel more to herself.”

“What ever my sister needs will be given, but say, have we all the herbs needed within the city?”

“Aye, majesty,” replied Edythe, “We need, Yarrow to stop the flow of blood, raspberry leaves and Echinacea to stop infection,” the old wife counted on her fingers all such remedies needed for the  healing process.

“Lavender,” added Lowell, nodding “ ’Tis most restful. Rosemary and wild oats,”

“Gentian and walnut,” finished Edythe. “By your leave, majesty, we must needs see to the application and brewing of these, may we have your leave to prepare the mentioned for the lady’s needs?”

Theoden nodded his agreement and both healer and midwife left the room discussing the variants of their herbal preparations to start on the morrow.

It was agreed that Theodwyn should be given nourishing meats and lights to replenish her blood, to drink of those mentioned tisanes once made and to rest and toil not, for she was loved dearly by the people of Rohan and by her kin.

Theodens surprise was duly ushered into his sister’s chamber, said surprise being a close childhood friend, lady Freya, now wed to Captain Eovail of Westfold and had but lately come to Edoras to visit her kin. Her children Eothain and Freda had journeyed also, and they were of an age with the children of the princess.

The ladies spent a happy hour in conversation and speaking of their past and present lives.

Lowell also looked to Eomer and Eowyn, he wanted not that their mother should have the daily worry of care, not until she regained her health and strength. But the stubbornness of the lady was well known and it was with husband, brother and friend that a plan was formulated and Eomund put such to her when they were alone later in the evening.

She had eaten well and Eomund broached the subject, “Beloved,” he began, and stopped, pondering his next words.

“Husband mine,” answered Theodwyn with deep suspicion, “I deem that there is something I wish not to hear!”

Eomund sighed and ran his hand through his hair, a sure sign of his anxiety, “Beloved”, he began again, “ You must rest….the children.”

“What about the children?” said Theodwyn panicking slightly at her thoughts, “Nay, please, let not them be taken away from me, taken back to the Aldburg, I could not bear that…” Tears began to flow and Eomund was most dismayed that his faltering tongue had caused her distress.

He held her close and tried to soothe her, “Theodwyn, my love, they are both to remain here. A maid- servant has been procured to tend them. Leoma is her name, youngest daughter of Leland, a worthy rider in his day, now he runs a smithy and is well renowned.

“So I am not to care for mine own children then?” she stiffened slightly.

“Only whilst you are so, you must rest and not have that worry, not until you have regained your strength.” Eomund whispered, trying to reassure her with his words.

Theodywn pulled away not happy with this news, they were HER children. She was their mother, she should be the one to look to the needs of her own

Eomund drew her back into his embrace, and Theodwyn relented and relaxed into his strong arms, “Beloved,” he murmured, kissing her lightly, “You must get well, our children will be tended, you will see them daily...”

“Aye, I know, but ‘tis hard to deliver them to the care of one I know not…” she bravely tried not to weep again and let the love from her husband flow into her.

They slept so, that night, Theodwyn nestled in the arms of her husband.

Next morn brought Freya come to visit and attempted to relieve the worries of Theodwyn. Leoma was spoken highly of and Freya herself would also see to the royal children.

So it was thus agreed, albeit grudgingly from Theodwyn that she rest and worry not. Eomer and Eowyn were to visit daily, and other times she would eat of her diet and drink of the tisanes prepared for her.

The healer called with the first of the drinks she was to imbibe of and the children were taken to play with Eothain and his sister, and thus began a regime of restful days undertaken without protest from the princess. Deep in her heart she knew to complain would only fall upon stony ground, best to let herself be healed and then…then she would be her own woman again and not be gainsaid by anyone, not even her brother the king.

Eomund was quite worried by this placid-ness in his wife, her usual sharp tongue, when in such a situation, was strangely quiet, and he pondered deeply upon this, thinking of her being sicker than he originally thought.

The afternoon brought Eomer running into her chamber, his eyes bright, cheeks glowing with excitement. Lowell had tried to chivvy him away but before Eomund could open his mouth his wife spoke first, “My son will visit when he needs to see me, Master healer,” her eyes flashed and Eomund hid a smile as the hapless Lowell tried to stammer a reply, “I will rest, I will eat of the diet you give me, I will drink of the bitter tasting unguents thrust into my lips, but I will NOT be denied access to mine own children. If they have need of me I am here for them. Do I make myself clear.”

“But..” stammered poor Lowell again, ”My Lady…”

Eomund cornered Lowell and whispered, “Think yourself lucky, man, she has fair flayed lesser men who only looked and spoke not. I am well pleased to see her so.”

“My lord?”

“This is the woman I wed, in all her glory,” he laughed, “Fear not, she will take your bitter tasting medicants and all you offer.”

Lowell left a rather puzzled man and Eomund revelled in the knowledge that his wife was not as morose as he had thought and he smiled to see his son chatting ten to the dozen about all the things he had seen that day.

TBC.

Orcs, Dungeons and Little Sisters.

Chapter Five.

Theodwyn remained thus, under the care of the healer Lowell, and after spending an uncomfortable afternoon dispelling the attached membrane, her health quickly improved, so by the end of the second week in Edoras she was starting to feel a little stronger. Lowell had trodden carefully and not caused his volatile charge any undue stress. He bit his tongue when the children scampered in at all hours, but had to admit that they caused no more harm to his patient as he had originally thought. He had grudgingly admitted to himself that the visit of her offspring caused as much healing as the potions and foods she was suffered to take.

Eomund was much relieved at this and knew his wife was on the way to becoming hale once more. He was drawn to stay near her side, but duty was calling him back to the east, messages had reached him, his sword was needed there, hastily.

Theodwyn frowned when she saw his face and sighed before he could utter a word, “When do you leave?” she asked quietly.

“On the morrow, sweetling, word has reached me of incursions on the borders again and villages raided, I must needs leave you a while. I know you are safe here, in the protection of the king.”

“Then we will have supper here tonight, just we two.” His lady stated, with the small smile that Eomund always found enchanting

“I will not say nay to that, beloved,” he whispered back, at that moment both were completely unaware that any plans for a quiet farewell would not be realized.

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Eomer had made a firm and lasting friendship with Eothain, they played within the great halls and ventured as far as watchful eyes would let them. Thus they had inspected the kitchens, full of bustle as the cooks prepared mountains of food on a daily basis for the inhabitants of the Golden Hall. The head cook, Audra, held an almost matriarch position within the huge kitchen area, none passed there unless by her leave nor without permission. Even the king himself, ventured not to her realm, knowing her rule was supreme.

Audra had taken quite a shine to the two children of the lady and had often had Eowyn under her watchful eye as she cut tiny biscuits with a thimble, her pretty face smudged with flour. And she always made sure her small charge was clean and presentable before visiting her lady mother again.

‘Eomer, well’ she thought grimly, ‘here was another Theodred, dashing in without heed, snatching any unwatched food for his hungry belly before returning in the same haste’ But her harsh looks and clicking tongue were lost on the young lord, he need only smile that dazzling smile of his and her heart was lost.

That particular morn, as Eomund and Theodwyn chatted softly together, Eomer was in her domain, hopefully watching as the cooks were making plum pies. He had a weakness for fruit and Audra smiled to her-self as a dish was passed to him so he could put his fingers in and scrape any plums left therein, of which were quickly transferred with much haste to his mouth. After this had been achieved he jumped down from the chair and before Audra could stop him to wipe his mouth and sticky fingers he flew the corridor to see his mother.

The door flew open with a crash and the occupants within knew instinctively whom had caused it so. Eomer ran to his parents out of breath.

“And I might not ask where you have been?” scolded Theodwyn as she reached for a cloth to wipe the smears off her way-word son as Eomund chuckled.

“In the kitchens, mother,” replied Eomer, squirming somewhat under her determined ministrations, he hated being washed and would be quite happy were he not to do that particular daily task. “Audra,” he gasped between wipes, “Has made plum pies, and there are always a lot of plums that stick to the bowl.” He explained to the laughter of his parents.

After she was satisfied with the cleanliness of her first born he dashed off again after a brief kiss, to find Eothain as they had planned a foray to the stables to watch the grooms at work with the mighty war-horses stabled within.

Eomund embraced his wife and left to meet with the king over his departure and to talk about the defences to be metered out in the East-Mark. But his thoughts, whenever a pause came within the talks, ever looked forward to his wife and the planned evening tryst.  

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Eowyn had been stitching with the court ladies, a task which she found little pleasure in, but Freya was with her and they giggled between themselves as they listened to the gossip and chatter around them. All rose when the lady Theodwyn came into the room. All were pleased to see her looking well and Eowyn rushed to her side to sit on her Mama’s knees as they worked.

The sun rose in the sky as the never ending chores went full circle as they were want to do in most great halls of men. The noon bell rang but the women found themselves alone in their dining, except for a few messengers and servants. The lords were deep in conference with the king and platters of food were sent in relay from the kitchens, borne by serving lads.

Much mirth went round the long tables as the ladies of the court enjoyed their feminine sojourn, speaking of many things, without any eavesdropping men to bother them. Often the talk got slightly brazen, as intimate secrets were whispered to all, and thankful Theodwyn was that Eowyn had fallen asleep on her lap and also that Eomer was not present, as he had recently started to ask certain questions and from the talk present he would have had most of them answered. Not that Theodwyn herself ventured any of her own, feeling that Eomund would not be too happy to have his sexual prowess discussed within the courts of Meduseld.

                             **********************************************

Eomer had enjoyed himself, meeting up with others, sons of the knights who served the king, and they played many games in the huge gardens behind Meduseld, including hood-man blind and knock-a- down run. Soon the small crowd of boys grew weary and thirsty, none had gone into the halls for the noon meal so one youngster, Gordelph, suggested a raid on the orchards of Edoras.

“We will dine well,” he enthused, “There is enough for all and we would be there and back within the hour, none would miss us…I dare you,” he stated, grinning and  looking round at all other boys  present.

Not wanting to be though cowards or refuse a dare, the boys agreed with Gordelph, after all he was the oldest there at twelve summers, and knew more, as his Father was captain of the kings guard.

They scampered over the wall and followed its perimeter round to the waiting fruit trees with their boughs laden with goodness and temptation. Within seconds gangly limbs were shinning up fully laden trees as the boys munched and chomped to their hearts delight.

Before long bellies were full and they drank deep of the stream that flowed nearby as tales of battles and swordplay were now in the offing as each vied with the other over the most blood- curdling stories.

The hour promised was long gone as the conversation turned to the lands outside their own country and the tales passed down from their elders of other beings and creatures. The afternoon waned and with alarm all realized they would be missed if not within the boundaries set for them. None there wanted to feel the strap from an angry sire, not after such a perfect day.

They proceeded to walk out of the orchard and followed the stone- wall, which would lead them back to the halls. The said wall was high and broad and one by one they climbed up to walk its perimeter, laughing and showing off each to the other as they went, not realizing any dangers with walking thusly.

The orchard keeper, Taite, had returned from his lunch to see the line of youths disappearing from his beloved trees. His look and scowl bespoke no mercy to the lads should he catch them, but they were too far ahead of him and he would surely speak of this to the king if granted a boon so to do. He grumbled and cursed as he inspected the groves for damage before he shook his fists at the group and glared anew.

Then suddenly he was running, a difficult task for one so portly, but he had noticed the boys walking on the wall, which was not uncommon for children to do…but that area was quite unsafe and had been in need of repair for a while. It was not deep on his side but fell quite fifteen feet in places on the other.

So he puffed and gasped as he gave chase, fearing not to shout as his warnings might cause more harm and panic within the group…but a low rumbling noise stopped his tracks as the boys screamed, and he looked with horror as some jumped to relative safety in the orchard while three fell on the other side with cries of terror.

TBC.