Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, places, events, and concepts are the property of the J.R.R. Tolkien Estate.

Author’s Notes:

In this fic, Éomer is about six, while Éowyn is about two, two and a half. This means (according to Tolkien) that both their parents are still alive. For those who don’t know already, their father (Éomund) often rode out pursuing the enemy.

I’ve used the terms “mama” and “daddy” in this fic because I couldn’t find the Rohirric words. I’m hoping this satisfies everyone.

Comments, questions, and constructive criticism are all more than welcome.

-Aranel

aranels@hotmail.com

~*0*~~*0*~~*0*~

Riding Up and Down

Daddy’s coming. Bounce. Daddy’s coming home. Bounce, bounce. Daddy’s coming home today. Endless bouncing.

“Éowyn! Stop now!” Théodwyn shifted the small girl from her front to her hip, afraid that the child’s bobbing head might suddenly catch her under the chin.  She peered over the hills of Rohan once again, shading her eyes from the noonday sun. It was a beautiful day for Éomund’s home-coming, and she wanted to catch the first glimpse of his proud grey horse, his waving hair, his grinning, ruddy face.

“Do you see him?” Éomer clung to one of his mother’s hands, exploring the different ways all ten of his small fingers could lace between and around hers.

“Not yet,” Théodwyn responded, hardly noticing the way her son was twisting one her rings around and around its given finger. On her hip small Éowyn was twisting and grabbing at a handful of her mother’s fair hair, and Éomer leaned forward, squinting, in an effort to possibly see someone who was not yet there.

Daddy’s coming. Daddy’s coming home today.

~*0*~~*0*~~*0*~

“Daddy!” Éomer suddenly released his mother’s hand, a shiver of excitement making him jump as he caught sight of the arriving party of Riders. The horses were thundering forward, and polished spear points caught the glint of the sun. There was his daddy at the front, a hand raised in greeting, and Éomer was sure that the wave was meant just for him.

“Da! Da-eee!” Éowyn bolted up in her mother’s arms, and if Théodwyn had not been so familiar with the move, she might have dropped the toddler onto the ground.

“There is Daddy’s pretty mount, there is Daddy’s spear,” Théodwyn sang the rhyme close to her daughter’s ear, but loud enough for her son to hear, “But best of all, we hear his call, as Daddy’s drawing near.”

Round and round the Riders circled, then headed towards the stables. Éomer bounded in that direction on joy-lightened feet, and Théodwyn hurried behind him, little Éowyn jostling on her hip.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

“Da-eee! Da! Da!”

“Éomund!”

  Éomund slid from his mount, one arm slipping behind his wife’s back as his feet met the ground. His children, still hopping and bouncing in excitement, did not notice the quick and gleeful kiss their parents exchanged, and soon Éomer sat small and happy on his father’s mount, and Éowyn was held high in strong hands, her bare toes nearly meeting blue sky.

“Let’s go riding, Daddy!” Éomer leaned forward, patting the horse’s neck, “It’s nice outside!”

“Your father has hardly gotten home, Éomer,” Théodwyn smiled softly, simply glad that her husband was home, was next to her again, “He is probably very hungry, and not a little tired.”

“After you eat then!” Éomer slid into his father’s grasp, secretly glad that Daddy kept him on a hip instead of placing him on the ground.

“Da-eee!” Éowyn leaned back, then bent forward to push her small forehead against the thick, sleeveless tunic her father had worn over his mail, “You home.”

Éomund laughed heartily, his older child’s feet brushing his legs as he walked, his younger child patting his armored chest fondly with her still pudgy hands. It was good to be home, very good. “Yes, I am. I am home with you all.” 

~*0*~~*0*~~*0*~

“Da-eee seeping,” Éowyn informed her brother, plunking herself onto the floor, “Da-eee take nap.”

“I know,” Éomer rolled onto his back, bored, “I wanted him to ride with me.”

“Me too!” Éowyn grinned with her smile of little teeth, “Me ride!”

“You’re too small,” Éomer rolled over again, grumbling. Daddy had said he would ride, or at least that he might, and now he was sleeping. Who in their right mind would choose to take a nap instead of going riding?

“Me ride!” Éowyn clambered onto her brother’s back, bouncing once she was settled.

“Stop it, Éowyn!” Éomer rose slowly to his hands and knees, Eowyn’s little fingers now gripping his hair, “Hold still, or you’ll fall. And don’t pull!” He crawled around the receiving room floor, whinnying like his father’s horse for Éowyn his rider, pausing like a good mount when she began to slip to the side. “Neigh!” Éomer wriggled a little, not daring to buck while his sister was still on his back, “Say ‘Faster, horsy, faster!’, Éowyn!”

“Fas’er! Fas’er!” Éowyn shrieked, giggling, and Éomer dared to scramble along faster on the floor, making galloping clicks with his tongue.

~*0*~~*0*~~*0*~

“Faster, faster!” Éomer’s arms were tight about his father’s neck, “Faster, Daddy!”

Éomund galloped around the receiving room now, his son on his shoulders. His rest had not been long, but any remaining weariness was soon forgotten in the over-excited company of his children.

“Me ride too!” Éowyn bent up and down at the knees, her own little version of hopping, “Me ride!”

“You too?” Éomund grinned wide, holding his son as he lowered himself to the floor.

“No, Daddy! It’s more fun on your shoulders!” Éomer sulked, now sitting on his father’s back as Éowyn attempted to pull herself up in front of him.

Éomund managed a tired laugh, “She wants to play too. Help her up.”

“Me ride!” Éowyn grabbed her father’s thick hair for reigns, “Fas’er, Da-eee horse, fas’er!”

~*0*~~*0*~~*0*~

“Up we go,” Théodwyn handed her daughter up to her husband, shaking her head a little, “Have a nice time.”

“We will,” Éomund held the child firmly with one arm, keeping her sandwiched between himself and his son in front of him. The little girl was nowhere near big enough to ride a horse, but he could hold her close and safe well enough.

Éomer rubbed a lock of the horse’s mane between his fingers, grumbling softly, “No we won’t.”

“Yes, we will,” Éomund whispered to his son, now urging the horse forward carefully and slowly.

~*0*~~*0*~~*0*~

“Now we shall ride as Gondorians ride,” Éomund told his children, rising a bit too tall and proud in the saddle, and encouraging his mount to step highly.

“Do they really ride like this, Daddy?” Éomer turned to grin at his father, wanting to laugh, “They can’t go very fast.”

“Only sometimes, but they look very silly when they do,” Éomund ruffled his son’s hair, and then his daughter’s, “Silly, silly people.”

“Silly,” Éowyn repeated, liking the new feeling caused by the horse’s over-high steps.

Éomund patted the horse’s neck, laughing, and let the animal return to its natural, but proud, gait, “And now we will ride like Uncle King Théoden. Wave to all of the people now, Éomer.”

“Hello, people!” Éomer smiled as his uncle did, enjoying this new game, “Very good people you are!”

“Where good persons?” Éowyn glanced around, seeing no people about in the open field, only horses grazing in the tall grass.

“We are only pretending,” Éomund laughed again, then let the horse go a bit faster, circling and zigzagging a bit, “And now we are riding like your cousin Théodred, who rides crazy because he is having trouble breaking his new horse.”

The game continued, and finally Éomund let his mount trot steadily in a controlled circle, one arm tight around his children’s waists, “And now we are riding like Riders of Rohan, of the Riddermark, and that is the very best.”

“It is my favorite,” Éomer pronounced, for this was the smoothest ride, a ride that made him feel he knew the horse, one that put his mind at ease, and a ride that brought his sister and father closest to him.

“Me too!” Éowyn agreed, though she did not like being squished and held so snugly and safely.

“And mine also,” Éomund smiled easily, “And mine also.”