Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my wonderful Beta’s, Marsha and J.

Author’s Note: At the end of ‘Dawning Hope’ I said that I would be continuing on with that story and here is the first installment. However, I have decided that instead of posting it as one long story, I will post any stories that come to me as small, four or five chapter stories. I’m doing it this way for two reasons; one, I never intended for ‘Dawning Hope’ to be a long story and so I didn’t have an end in mind beyond how it already ended, and I can’t just randomly write without a fixed point in mind. Two, I like the idea of being able to skip around if I want to in this setting and doing short stories like this will allow me to do so. I will use ‘Dawning Hope’ as part of the title each time I post a story to help people know it is part of this series.

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Chapter One – Preparations

“Is this enough?” Théodred asked doubtfully as he poked through the small bag of food Blídhe had set on the table. There didn’t seem to be enough for three people even if two of them were children. A large wedge of hard cheese, strips of dried venison, six apples, and a smallish round loaf of fresh baked bread were all that was in the worn leather bag. He slung two waterskins over his shoulder as he glanced at the cook.

“It’ll be enough, lord,” the elderly cook replied turning away from the stove and wiping her hands off on a cloth she wore wrapped around her waist. She limped heavily as she walked across the room toward him. “Neither of them seem to be eating much,” she continued with a worried frown. “I worry most about Éomer, it’s not right for a boy his age to eat as little as he does.”

Éomer was not eating? Why had no one mentioned that to him? Théodred wondered as he glanced from Blídhe back to the bag of food with a frown. Perhaps his father was aware of it, he had certainly noticed Éowyn’s uneasiness around Lyfides and had taken steps to help her. Although, now that he thought of it, his father had arranged for Wynléas to come to Edoras even before he knew about Éowyn’s dislike of Lyfides. Perhaps no one except the cook knew Éomer was not eating well. Théodred looked at the woman who’d been running the kitchens since his father had been a young boy.

“Does the king know?”

Blídhe shrugged, throwing her hands up in the air. “If he does, he hasn’t told me. He doesn’t frequent my kitchen the way you do, lord… hasn’t since he was your age.”

Théodred grinned. It was true that he’d spent a lot of time in her kitchen over the years. He’d run in for a quick bite of something, it never really mattered what it was, and Blídhe was always free with both the food and her counsel. And her hugs, he suddenly remembered. Up until he was nine or ten she always hugged him before sending him on his way. How had he forgotten that? It was something he’d just taken for granted he supposed with an inward smile.

“Perhaps I should bring Éomer and Éowyn here and let you feed them as you used to feed me.”

Blídhe chuckled and let out a small snort of amusement as she remembered back to when he’d been young and underfoot. “I don’t know if I can take two young ones running in and out of here like you used to, lord. But, perhaps,” she gave a deep sigh that was offset by the smile in her eyes, “those two can be taught to walk in quietly.”

“I’m sure that Éowyn can, but I’m not so sure about Éomer, Blídhe, he seems much like me at that age,” Théodred said with a small smile.

“I thought as much,” she said, shaking her head. “Well, you bring them in anyway and I’ll try and teach them the proper way to act in a kitchen. If it’ll get them eating…” her voice trailed off as she abruptly turned away and limped back to the stew she’d been preparing. “You bring them in after your ride,” she added glancing back over her shoulder.

“I will,” Théodred said realizing he’d been dismissed. Laughing softly under his breath he grabbed the bag of food and headed out of the kitchen toward his father’s study.

The king’s study was on the opposite side of the building from the kitchen and Théodred strode quickly across the great hall instead of taking the longer way around through the hallways. The huge room was mostly empty now after the conclusion of the daily court session when the king heard and judged the disputes amongst his people. A few servants were cleaning and several members of the King’s Riders lounged near the large hearth talking quietly. He acknowledged their hails with a brief smile and a nod but did not stop to speak to the men. Éomer and Éowyn had been down in the stables for some time and Théodred did not want to keep them waiting. Even though Renward had returned from visiting his wife’s family in the Westfold and Théodred knew the children would be safe with the stable master, he still felt uneasy about having sent them off by themselves. He hoped his father would not keep him long. The door to the study was closed and he knocked, entering at his father’s call.

“You wanted to speak with me before I left, Father?” Théodred asked as he approached the desk where his father sat hunched over a pile of papers, his chin resting in his left hand.

Théoden finished reading the paper in his hand before looking up at his tall son and giving him an appraising look. He set the paper neatly to the side before pushing his chair back and stretching his legs out in front of him. Picking up the pen on his desk he idly tapped it against the palm of his hand as he studied Théodred. He wondered if his son knew what he was letting himself in for by taking the two children out riding and he briefly considered joining them. A glance at the papers on his desk reminded him of his duty and the things he simply had to get done. He started at the sound of Théodred’s voice.

“Father? Is there something you need me to do?” Théodred asked, trying to keep the impatience he felt from creeping into his voice.

“No,” replied Théoden with a slight furrow creasing his brow at the edge he heard in his son’s voice. “Are you in a hurry to leave? There are many hours left in the day,” he said glancing out the small window that gave him a view out over the vast green plains of Rohan.

“I am in a bit of a hurry,” Théodred admitted. “I sent Éomer and Éowyn down to the stables as soon as their lessons were finished and that’s been some time ago now as I went to the kitchen to get food for our lunch.”

“Renward is back and they’ll be safe enough there,” Théoden said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Théodred gave a reluctant nod. He trusted the stable master implicitly, but it still seemed like a long time to leave the children alone. It was strange, he mused, yesterday he hadn’t paid much attention to the two children and now he worried about them being left alone for a short time.

“I wanted to ask you about your plans for the day. You’ve never taken children out for a ride… you’ve never had full responsibility for any children before, and that,” Théoden paused seeking the right words, “concerns me.”

“You’re concerned that I can’t take care of two children? On a simple horse ride? What could happen that I couldn’t take care of, Father?” he asked, offended. How could his father doubt his abilities? He’d been leading his own éored for several years now.

“What concerns me, Théodred,” the king replied sharply, “is that you may not be aware that watching over children is different than anything you’ve ever done before. Children, unlike the men of your éored, do not always obey the commands given them. Which you may remember from your own childhood,” he pointed out dryly.

Théodred colored slightly. “I do,” he admitted, remembering two particularly memorable occasions when he had disobeyed his father and the resulting consequences of his disobedience. Although, only one of those did he truly regret and then only because Elfhelm had gotten hurt; the other time he still remembered quite fondly and with a bit of pride that he’d been mostly successful in carrying out his plan. Sneaking out of Meduseld past the guards and making his way down through Edoras with several of his friends to the most popular tavern in the city had been a thrilling adventure for a thirteen year old boy. The fact that none of them actually went into the tavern bothered him not at all; he knew he would have been spotted immediately and escorted back to his father by one of the King’s Riders who frequented the tavern. Even getting caught sneaking back into Meduseld did not quite ruin the memory of the evening for him… only dampened it a bit.

“I’ll watch them closely,” Théodred promised. “But I don’t think there’s anything you need to worry about. We’re not going far and I am sure they’ll listen to me.”

Théoden stared at his son for a long minute as he pondered once again whether or not he should ride out with them. It was a beautiful day and it had been several days since he’d been astride his horse and he just was not sure that his son understood what he was telling him. Still, between the work he needed to finish and the fact that Théodred needed to learn what it was like to have children under his care – he would be a father someday and this was a perfect opportunity for him to learn – Théoden decided to stay behind. He sighed softly.

“When will you be back?”

“Mid-afternoon, I think. I’m taking them a league or so down the Snowbourn to where that thick grove of willow trees grows alongside the river.”

Théoden nodded, it was a place he’d often taken Elfhild in the early years of their marriage. “Well, then, keep a close eye on them, especially Éomer, he strongly reminds me of you at that age,” he said, smiling. He gestured toward the door and Théodred turned to go, but paused and swung back around.

“Father? Blídhe mentioned that they weren’t eating well and she seemed most concerned about Éomer. Have you noticed?”

“Yes. I’ve seen them pushing their food around on their plates to try and hide the fact they weren’t eating much.”

“You didn’t make them eat?”

“Make them? How do you suggest I make them eat, Théodred?” Théoden asked, frowning at his son. “They are eating, just less than is usual for children of their age,” he said with a small shrug. “And for now we’ll watch them closely and make sure that they continue to do so. They’ve been through a lot in the last year and this isn’t unusual… they’ll eat when they’re ready.”

Théodred stared at his father, surprised at the crisp note in his voice as he responded. It dawned on him that his response might have something to do with his mother. They seldom spoke about her and never about the way she’d died or Théoden’s feelings about her death. But now was not the right time to speak about it, not with the children waiting. It was a conversation that would take time and Théodred was willing to wait until he returned. He nodded.

“Of course, Father, forgive me. You’ve had much more experience with such things than I have,” he said quietly. “With your leave?” he asked turning halfway toward the door.

“Go, and remember what I said,” Théoden replied as he bent back over his papers. He straightened up when the door closed and he gently tossed the pen on the desk with a deep sigh. After several long moments of staring out the window lost in thought, he picked up the next paper on the pile and began to read.

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To be continued…

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my wonderful Beta’s, Marsha and J.

Author’s Note: I’m posting this chapter early because I’ll be out of town on vacation. The next chapter won’t be up until about June 25^th.

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Chapter 2 – The Stables

The royal stables of Edoras was quite large and could house more than a hundred horses, though currently it held less than fifty with some of the King’s Riders out on patrol. It was a plain, ordinary looking building from the outside. The bottom half of the building was made of stones fitted tightly together, the top half was wood, and the roof was thatched. Large windows with shutters that could be opened to let in air and light lined each side of the building. Inside the stable it was a different story. Each stall was decorated with the standard of Rohan - a white horse and rider on a green background. The pillars were as intricately carved and decorated as those in Meduseld itself. The feed boxes and water troughs were carved with images of horses and riders. It was to this building that Éomer and Éowyn headed after their lessons were completed.

“Come on, Éowyn, hurry up,” Éomer urged his sister as he glanced back over his shoulder to see she had fallen well behind him.

“I’m coming,” she replied as she scowled down at the belt she was trying to fix on her riding breeches. “Go ahead. I won’t get lost.” She finally stopped to try and untwist the belt.

“I’m not worried about you getting lost,” Éomer said as he walked back to her. “Here, let me help you.” He reached for Éowyn’s belt and jerked his hand back when she batted at it.

“I’m not a baby, Éomer, and I don’t need your help,” she snapped as she finally got the belt untwisted. She didn’t look at him as she tightened and then refastened the belt. Seeing she was finished, Éomer turned and walked on without saying anything further. Éowyn sighed softly and followed close behind him until they walked into the yard in front of the stables.

“You can’t go in there, it’s not allowed.”

Éomer and Éowyn halted abruptly at the loud command that came from one of two boys sitting on a wooden bench to the right of the large area that was cordoned off by a three tiered pole fence. The one that had spoken appeared to be a year or two older than Éomer; the other boy, who was obviously the first boy’s brother, was about Éomer’s age. The boys stood and walked toward them. Frightened by both the harshness of the boy’s voice and his approach, Éowyn slid halfway behind Éomer and grabbed the back of his tunic.

“What do you mean we can’t go in there?” asked Éomer. “I’ve been in there before.” He eyed the boys suspiciously. He didn’t know why they would want to keep him out of the stables, it made no sense. Uncle Théoden hadn’t said he couldn’t go into the stables, and Théodred had sent them here.

“You’re too young,” the older boy snorted as he looked Éomer up and down.

“Ashwín is too young, too,” the younger boy said as he elbowed his brother in the side. “Renward is back and that’s why you could’ve gone in there yesterday and you can’t today,” he explained looking over his shoulder at the stables with a scowl.

“Who’s Renward? The stable master?” asked Éomer. The name was vaguely familiar to him.

“Yes, and he doesn’t let boys our age inside the royal stables. You have to be at least fourteen,” Ashwín said. “He says we can go to the main stables but he doesn’t want us inside his.”

“They’re not his stables,” exclaimed Éowyn stepping around Éomer with her hands on her hips and staring challengingly up at the two boys. “They’re Uncle Théoden’s stables!”

Éomer put his hand on her shoulder. “Yes, they are,” he said soothingly, “but he put Renward in charge of it for him, Éowyn.”

Éowyn turned and looked up at him. “Oh. But, Théodred said to get our horses ready and how can we if we can’t go in?”

“We’re going in,” he replied with a glance at the boys who were watching the two of them with wide eyes.

“Are you Éomer?” the younger boy finally asked.

“I am,” he replied holding out his hand. He hadn’t seen too many boys his age since he’d come to Edoras; only a few that he’d seen while sitting on the porch of Meduseld looking down over the city. Éomer knew that there had to be a lot in the city, but he didn’t know how to meet them. Edoras was so much bigger than Aldburg where he often spent his days with a group of boys he’d known since they played together as babies.

“I’m Alric, I’m almost eleven,” the boy said with a friendly smile as he clasped Éomer’s forearm as he’d seen his father and other men do. “I heard you lived here now. This is my brother, Ashwín,” he said indicating the taller boy.

“I’m eleven,” Éomer replied before turning slightly and holding his hand out to Ashwín. The boy hesitated for just a moment before clasping his forearm.

“I’m thirteen,” Ashwín said with just a trace of arrogance in his tone. “Our father is one of the King’s Riders.”

Éowyn spoke up again. She didn’t know how long these boys were going to stand around talking but she wanted to go and get Ósle ready. “I’m seven and our father is dead,” she said as she looked up at Ashwín. “Our mother is dead now too and we had to move here to live with Uncle Théoden. Come on, Éomer,” she said tugging on his sleeve. “Théodred will be coming soon.” The two boys stared at her for a moment before looking back at Éomer.

Letting his sister pull him toward the stable door, Éomer gave the two boys an apologetic shrug. “I have to go. Where do you live?” he asked as he half walked, half stumbled toward the door. He wanted to see them again… at least he wanted to see Alric again, he wasn’t sure yet about Ashwín. “Stop,” he hissed at Éowyn and pulled his arm loose. Éowyn scowled at all three boys as she waited with her arms crossed.

“We live about halfway down the hill behind the market square. Do you know where the weavers’ shops are?” Alric asked.

Éomer shook his head. “I… no, we haven’t lived here long enough.”

Alric thought for a moment. “Well, we could meet you at the market square or here.”

“The market square.” He hadn’t had a chance to explore the market yet. “I can come about this time tomorrow after my lessons.” He paused and looked down at Éowyn who was not listening but was looking into the stables. Lowering his voice and turning away from her, he asked, “Do you have a little sister?”

“No,” Alric shook his head as he darted a quick glance at Éowyn and gave Éomer an understanding smile. “But there’s a little girl who lives in the house next to ours.” He turned to Ashwín. “How old is Déore?”

Ashwín shrugged. “I don’t know… maybe five? Doesn’t Gárulf have a little sister about her age?” He gestured to Éowyn who was edging closer to the stables.

Alric’s eyes brightened as he eagerly nodded. “He does! I’ll see if he can come tomorrow and you can ask him about his sister.”

Éomer gave a hesitant nod. He knew that Éowyn needed someone to play with and maybe Théodred would know someone if these two girls weren’t nice. Éomer stopped paying attention to what his sister was doing as he continued speaking with Alric and Ashwín.

Éowyn took one last glance over her shoulder at Éomer and his new friends as she slipped inside the stable. She pressed herself up against the wall next to the door and blinked her eyes rapidly as they adjusted to the dimness; the only light came from the large open windows above her. Now that she was inside, Éowyn could clearly hear the sounds made by the horses - the stomps, the whinnies, the snorts, the snuffles, and the occasional kicks against the stall walls – which all combined to make a noise that was comfortingly familiar to her.

Poking her head around one of the carved pillars that were evenly spaced every ten feet down both sides of the wide aisle, Éowyn looked toward the other end of the stable. The storerooms and a door leading out to the large paddock were at that end of the building and she knew that the stable hands were most often working there. Seeing no one, she ducked back behind the pillar and began sneaking down toward Ósle’s stall, keeping in the shadows between the stalls and the row of pillars. Pausing occasionally to pat a horse or to push them away as they tried to nibble at her hair, she made her way quickly to Ósle’s stall. She had just reached it when a voice from the other side of the stable made her stop dead in her tracks.

“Why are you sneaking into the stable, Éowyn?” Renward had seen her from the moment she’d stepped through the doorway and he’d known at once who she was. She had the same blue eyes as her mother, though the rest of her features reminded him strongly of Éomund. He’d learned of Théodwyn’s death and the presence of Éowyn and Éomer in the city within hours of his return to Edoras.

Éowyn froze at the sound of the gruff voice that came from across the aisleway. Peering between the pillars she saw a large man leaning on a half-opened door in an empty stall. In the one hand that was hanging down over the door the man held a brush. She couldn’t see if he held anything in his other hand for it was out of sight on the other side of the stall door. Éowyn looked back toward the main door wondering if she should run to Éomer. But, from the corner of her eye, she saw the man moving and she looked back at him, afraid at what he might do now that he’d caught her in his stables.

Renward frowned at the look of fright on Éowyn’s face and he stopped in the middle of the aisle uncertain as to whether or not he should approach the little girl. Having only sons he wasn’t sure how a young girl might react. Still, she was a member of the royal family and she was in the royal stables which were his responsibility and so he cautiously continued, speaking in a low voice as he approached. He stopped when he reached the pillars.

“Éowyn? Why are you frightened, child? I won’t hurt you,” he said.

Éowyn stared up at the large man for a moment and then her eyes darted briefly toward the door before she answered. “I’m not fourteen,” she said, her voice trembling.

It took Renward a moment to understand what she meant. A deep scowl darkened his face as he looked out the door where he saw the three boys standing. He recognized Ashwín and Alric and knew immediately that the third boy was Éomer… he looked too much like his family to be anyone else. Turning back to Éowyn he found that she was reaching for the latch on the stall and he cleared his throat to gain her attention. She whirled back around and Renward was shocked to see she seemed even more frightened than before and he wondered why.

“I-I just wanna g-get Ósle ready,” Éowyn said without looking up at him. Théodred would be coming soon and she didn’t want him to leave without her.

“I see. Well, do you want my help?” he asked not sure what else to do with the girl.

She looked at him suspiciously. “You aren’t going to make me leave?”

“No, child, I’m not. Ashwín is not allowed in here until he’s fourteen, but these are the royal stables and you’re part of the royal family.”

A brilliant smile lit up her face. “I told those boys these are Uncle Théoden’s stables and that we could come in here.”

Renward nodded once not really surprised that Ashwín had tried to keep the two of them out of the stable. He’d talk to the boy… again, he thought with an inward grimace. “Yes… well…” His voice trailed off and he looked at the black gelding in the stall Éowyn had tried to enter. “Your horse’s name is Ósle?” he asked as he examined it more closely. He’d glanced at the horse and the bay gelding that evidently belonged to Éomer when he’d first arrived early in the morning.

Éowyn nodded. “My f-father gave him to me.” She kicked at the straw as she thought of the day he’d given her her first real horse instead of the pony she’d ridden for several years. It was an old horse, but at least it was a true horse.

“Hmmm…” Renward opened the stall and gently pushed the smallish, docile horse to the side as Éowyn slipped in behind him. He quickly ran his hands up and down the horse’s neck, over the withers, and down each leg. Checking the teeth last he discovered that his guess was accurate, the horse was around fifteen years old. It was sound, though, and should serve Éowyn well for several more years.

“Can you put the bridle on?” Renward asked hesitantly. He wasn’t certain what a girl her age could do, certainly his sons could put a bridle on a horse this size at her age.

“Of course I can,” Éowyn said scowling up at him. She scratched the white stripe between Ósle’s eyes as she watched Renward go and get her tack from the saddle rack that was just out of the horses’ reach in front of each stall. “No,” she scolded Ósle quietly as he leaned against her. Éowyn tried to shove him away but she lacked the strength and ended up taking a couple of steps backwards instead. Shaking his head and nickering the horse followed and Éowyn giggled when Ósle nudged her in the chest wanting her to continue petting him. It was a game they often played.

Renward paused in the act of handing her the bridle. “Why are you readying your horse? You cannot take him out alone, Éowyn.”

“Cousin Théodred is taking us,” she replied, grinning as she tugged the bridle from his hands. “And he should be here soon. Éomer better hurry up,” she added as she slipped the bit into Ósle’s mouth and nestled it between his teeth before slipping the straps over his ears.

“I’ll get him and then I’ll help you with the saddle… you do need help with that?” Renward asked as he watched her tighten the straps on the bridle. She did it easily enough and looked well practiced.

Éowyn nodded. “I can’t lift it. It’s too heavy and Ósle’s too tall for me,” she said, sighing. “Éomer says that by next year I should be able to do it, though.”

Renward looked her up and down and thought Éomer might be right. She was fairly tall for her age and if she grew another couple of inches she should be able to lift the saddle high enough. He left to get Éomer and almost ran into the worried looking boy as he rounded a pillar. Though he was clearly startled, Éomer began speaking immediately.

“Have you seen my sister? I was talking to Alric and Ashwín and I’m sure she came in here but I haven’t seen her and she shouldn’t have come in here by herself because we need to talk to the stable master first because Ashwín said that I should to make sure that it’s all right if we come in the stables and I don’t want her to get in trouble and she could get hurt though she’s really good with horses and I don’t really think that she would and… do you know who Renward is?” he asked peering around anxiously.

Renward stared down at Éomer as he listened to him ramble on. He smiled inwardly when the boy took a deep breath as he finished speaking. “I’m Renward,” he said holding his hand out. “You must be Éomer,” he continued as the boy grasped his forearm. “Come along, I told Éowyn I’d help her saddle Ósle as soon as I found you.” Renward turned and quickly started back toward the stall where Éowyn was waiting.

“You’re helping her? I usually help her.” Éomer frowned as he half walked, half trotted along behind the man.

“You weren’t here,” Renward pointed out with a quick glance over his shoulder. “And she was most insistent that it be done now.”

“She’s like that,” Éomer muttered, though he was not truly annoyed, just relieved that she was all right since he’d let her escape into the stables in the first place.

“Éomer! Hurry up! Théodred will be here soon,” Éowyn called out as soon as she saw him.

“I’m coming,” he replied. Éomer stopped for a moment at Ósle’s stall and looked Éowyn up and down to assure himself that she was well before moving on to the next stall where Cempa was nickering softly. “Hello, boy,” he said as he patted the bay horse on the nose before grabbing the saddle and balancing it carefully on the door of the stall. Opening the door, however, caused the saddle to slide to the straw covered ground with a loud thud and Cempa backed away snorting in fright. “Easy, boy,” Éomer murmured as he slowly approached his horse speaking to it with soft, soothing words until Cempa calmed enough that he could gently pat the horse reassuringly.

“Probably best not to try and balance your saddle on the door,” Renward remarked quietly from the next stall as he finished tightening the girth strap on Ósle.

“I always did it at Aldburg,” Éomer said defensively. It was quiet for a moment as he worked the bridle into his still skittish horse’s mouth. “Though, perhaps the stall doors were wider there,” he said without looking over at the stable master.

Renward bit back a chuckle and all he said was, “Perhaps.” He glanced at Éowyn who was holding tightly to the reins of her horse as he checked over Ósle one last time. “He’s ready, why don’t you tie him to the saddle rack while I get Lord Théodred’s horse ready?”

“Can I help you?” she asked eagerly as she tugged on Ósle’s reins and led him to the rack where she tied the horse before trailing after Renward.

“No, you can’t,” Renward said firmly as he stopped and turned to look down at Éowyn. “Féle is too high-spirited of a horse for someone your age to be near while I’m saddling him. You wait here with Éomer.” He gestured toward the stall where the boy had paused and was watching the two of them closely.

“I won’t get close, I’ll stand back by the rack and won’t get near the stall,” she promised.

“You can help me, Éowyn,” said Éomer. “If the stable master tells you you can’t do something, you need to listen to him,” he added remembering all the times they’d been told that at home… in Aldburg he reminded himself with an inward sigh.

“B-but father’s horse was high-spirited,” she protested as Renward walked away.

“Uncle Éomund’s horse was indeed high-spirited,” commented Théodred as he suddenly appeared next to Éowyn, startling her so that she jumped sideways away from him.

“Théodred!”

“Did you know that his horse and mine were brothers?” he continued and Éowyn shook her head. Théodred glanced at Eomer who nodded before placing the saddle on Cempa’s back. “My father gave them to us,” he added with a small smile as he looked down at Éowyn. “Now, your brother is right; you must obey Renward whenever you are here in the stables. I will not allow you to come here if you do not give me your word that you’ll follow his directions when you are here,” he said sternly.

Éowyn took a step backward and stared up at her cousin in surprise. “All-all right,” she stuttered. “I-I promise.”

Théodred crouched down and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I only do this to protect you, Éowyn,” he said softly. “Many of the horses here are very large and, like mine, are high-spirited and easily startled. Did the stable master in Aldburg not have the same rules?” he asked, knowing full well that he did.

“Yes, but sometimes he said that I could…”

“She didn’t always obey the rules,” Éomer interrupted as he led Cempa out of the stall. He grinned at his sister and she scowled back, her eyes flashing with anger.

“B-but he’d let me help him!” she cried, angrily.

“Hush,” Théodred said placing a finger on her lips, “you’re spooking the horses,” he whispered. The horses in the stalls around them had begun stirring restlessly and Cempa strained against Éomer’s hold on him. “Both of you know that you cannot raise your voices in here,” he said as he stood. His gaze shifted back and forth between his cousins who were staring at each other without blinking and he let out a soft sigh. What had he let himself in for he wondered as he left the children to get his horse. Perhaps his father was right; perhaps this wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought.

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To be continued…

Author’s note: I don’t know if other people like this kind of information or not, but I thought I’d include the meanings of the horses’ names:

Ósle – Raven
Cempa – Hero
Féle – Faithful

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my wonderful Beta’s, Marsha and J.

Chapter Three – Riverside

Théodred kept a close eye on Éomer and Éowyn as they rode through the gate and down the road between the barrows of the kings. Éowyn had not spoken since her angry outburst in the stables. Éomer, on the other hand, had laughed and talked with a couple of boys standing near the stables as they rode away. Now, though, he too was subdued and Théodred cast about for something to say or do that might get the two of them at least talking with each other. Féle snorted, his head bobbing up and down as he tried to spit out the bit.

“Stop that,” Théodred scolded sternly as he pulled on the reins while at the same time patting and rubbing the dark red neck of his horse. He continued to speak soothingly to the horse and after several more snorts and a last shake of his head, Féle settled down once again. At least he hadn’t tried to buck him off, thought Théodred with an inward sigh. He probably should have ridden one of his other horses, but Féle was young and needed to be ridden often, even on what promised to be a short, easy ride.

“Théodred?”

He twisted in his saddle to look at Éowyn. “Hmmm?”

“Where are we going?”

“I thought we’d ride down the river to a place where we could eat lunch.” Théodred tapped the bag he had attached to the pommel of his saddle.

“That’ll be nice,” she replied politely as she looked down toward the Snowbourn River. Éowyn vaguely remembered going there with her mother the only other time she’d been in Edoras several years ago. She glanced back at her cousin. “I-I’m sorry I was so loud in the stables.”

“I know you are. You were,” Théodred hesitated, looking at Éomer from the corner of his eye but the boy seemed to be ignoring them. “You were provoked to anger.” He held up his hand to stop Éomer’s protests. “However, you know better than to yell around the horses.” She nodded. “Still,” he turned to look at Éomer, “I would ask both of you to remember that the stables are not a place for jesting and playing. Neither Renward nor I will allow you to work with the horses if you do so.” They both nodded without looking at him and he grimaced. A sudden memory of him and his father having a very similar discussion crossed his mind and he let out a short laugh.

“Forgive me,” said Théodred when he saw their crestfallen faces. “I’m not laughing at you. I was remembering when my father told me much the same thing - that I could not go in the stables because I was being too loud.” He grinned and first Éomer and then more slowly Éowyn smiled back.

“Are we going to walk the whole way?” asked Éomer as he shifted from side to side in his saddle.

“At least until we’re off the hill,” Théodred replied. “There are several nice long stretches between here and the river where you can show me how fast Cempa can run. And, Ósle,” he added with a glance at Éowyn.

“He’s not very fast,” she said with a mournful sigh as she ran her fingers through his black mane. “He’s too old.” Ósle snorted and shook his head. Éowyn giggled as she leaned forward and hugged him around the neck whispering softly to him as she did so.

“Cempa’s fast. He beats all the other boys’ horses. I mean all the boys in Aldburg. I-I don’t know about here,” he added with a worried glance back at Edoras.

Théodred gave the boy a thoughtful look, remembering the boys he’d been talking with back at the stables. “I imagine he’s faster than many of them, Éomer. He’s a fine horse; I remember your father riding him when I was a member of his éored.”

Éomer beamed. “I’ve had him for two… no, almost three years now, ever since father saw that I’d outgrown my last horse. He decided I should have Cempa and he started riding the younger horse he’d been training. He was a beautiful horse”. His voice trailed off as he wondered, as he often had, if the orcs that had killed his father had eaten the horses that they’d had to leave behind. The surviving members of the éored had barely been able to retreat with the bodies of their fallen comrades.

“He was, Éomund always had a keen eye for horses,” Théodred said. “I think we can ride a little faster now, do you not?” Both children nodded eagerly and he pointed to a small jumble of rocks in the distance. “Meet me there.” He urged Féle into a trot. Éowyn and Éomer grinned and took off, quickly bringing their horses to a canter and then a full out gallop. Théodred laughed out loud as he watched them. He could hear them yelling, though he had no idea what they were saying. Urging Féle into a canter he smiled at the memories of his own childhood that watching his cousins brought to mind.

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“Look at this.” Éowyn held out the pretty rock she’d dug out from the edge of the swiftly moving river.

Éomer grunted as he glanced at it before wading a little farther into the water and away from the small pebbly beach. “It’s all right. But I’m looking for ones that’ll skip across the top of the water and they need to be flat.”

“Oh, I’ll help you.” She clenched the water-smoothed white rock tightly in her hand as she bent down to find rocks for her brother. She decided she’d give it to Wynléas or maybe Uncle Théoden, knowing that they’d like a pretty rock. “How’s this one?” She held up a large flat rock.

“That’s too big,” Éomer said as he eyed the hand sized rock his sister held. “But,” he hastened to add at the scowl she gave him, “it’s flat enough. They need to be about this size.” He held out the three rocks he’d already collected which were the perfect size for him to hold between his thumb and first finger. Dropping them into the pouch he wore on his belt he continued his search, exclaiming happily when he found another rock. “Here’s one!”

Éowyn looked up, frowning. Maybe she should leave him to find his own rocks and do something else, though she didn’t know what else she could do. Théodred didn’t seem to want to play, he just sat under a tree and watched. She looked around. Although there were trees and bushes lining the river on both sides, she spied one unusually large willow tree upriver. Between the long dangling green branches that swayed gently in the slight breeze, she could see that its roots were sticking out at odd angles above the ground and she decided to go and explore the area around it. She’d only taken a few steps when Théodred spoke.

“Where are you going?” he asked, standing and brushing the dirt from his breeches.

“There,” said Éowyn pointing to the tree. “I thought it’d be fun to play in the roots.” She wondered why it mattered, it wasn’t that far and her mama would have let her go.

Théodred glanced at the tree and then at Éomer, a slight furrow creasing his brow. “Éomer!” he called sharply. The boy looked up and grinned. “Come back toward the bank. The river runs too swiftly.”

The grin fell from Éomer’s face and, scowling, he moved two small steps closer to the shore. “It’s not that fast,” he protested.

“Two more large steps, Éomer,” Théodred ordered his cousin who reluctantly did as he was told until the water was swirling around his shins. The boy did not look up as he continued searching for the right size rocks. Théodred turned back to Éowyn with a thoughtful frown. “Éowyn, you need to find something to do here. It’s too far away and I couldn’t see you well enough from here.”

“Then come with me,” she said, almost, but not quite pleading.

Théodred shook his head. “I can’t. I won’t leave Éomer alone here.”

“B-but, I want to play there,” Éowyn protested, fighting back tears. “Can’t you make Éomer come with us?”

“No. The bank there by the tree is too steep for him to play in the water. I’m sorry, Éowyn,” he said gently.

“All right,” she whispered as she walked away, her feet dragging through the small pebbles on the shore.

“Éowyn,” he called. She stopped but didn’t turn around. “We can go there after we eat; we don’t have to leave right away.” She nodded and walked on to sit on a small rock near Éomer while Théodred resumed his seat, a look of dismay on his face. Feeling something hard pressing into the palm of her right hand, Éowyn slowly opened her clenched fist. She stared down at the pretty rock for a moment and, then, flung it away with all of her strength. It briefly flashed white in the bright sun before it plopped into the water out in the middle of the river.

“What was that?” Éomer exclaimed turning and looking toward where he’d heard the splash. “Was it a fish?” he asked his sister, his eyes shining with excitement as he briefly glanced over his shoulder.

“A rock.”

“A rock,” he repeated. He turned and looked at her. “You threw a rock that far? It went a long way,” he said as he eyed her carefully. She shrugged. “What’s wrong, Éowyn?”

“Nothing,” she replied in a voice so low that he barely heard it over the sound of the rushing water. Frowning, Éomer tossed aside the rocks he’d so carefully collected and splashed through the water to the shore where he crouched down next to her.

“Éowyn, what happened?”

She looked up at her brother then. “He won’t let me play in the tree. Mama would’ve let me.” Éomer gave her a blank look.

“Won’t let you play in a tree?” he asked hesitantly, looking up and around at the trees that surrounded them. Why wouldn’t Théodred let her play in a tree? wondered Éomer as he glanced over at his cousin who was staring straight in front of him. Though Éomer had the feeling he was well aware of him and Éowyn.

“Not just any tree,” Éowyn said sharply as she sat up and pointed upriver. “I wanted to go up there… to that tree.”

Narrowing his eyes against the shimmering reflection coming off the water, Éomer looked to where his sister was pointing and he gave an approving nod. “It’s a good tree. Why can’t you go? It’s not that far and, you’re right, mama would’ve let you go.” There was a moment’s pause. “At least I think so.”

“Théodred said it was too far and he didn’t want to leave you here alone.” She looked down again reminding herself that it was not Éomer’s fault.

“B-but…why not?” he asked, surprised enough that he sat down hard on his bottom. “Ouch.” He reached beneath him and pulled out a sharp stick and threw it aside with a scowl. Éowyn giggled and after a moment he grinned back. He returned to the subject at hand. “Why would he not leave me here? I’m eleven!”

“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging.

“We’ll go together,” he said with his own shrug. “I don’t mind.”

“Théodred said we can’t do that either. The bank is… wrong… or something. I don’t know, but he said you can’t play there.”

Now Éomer just stared at his sister with his mouth wide open, not believing what he was hearing. He snapped his mouth shut and he thought furiously as he looked over Éowyn’s shoulder to where their cousin still sat. If Théodred wouldn’t take them to the tree, then they’d have to go by themselves. They just needed a way to get past him undetected. Once they were in the cover of the trees they could sneak through the bushes to Éowyn’s tree and play on the far side of it – out of Théodred’s sight. Maybe there’d be an even better tree on the other side of it. He unconsciously lowered his voice when he spoke even though Théodred was too far away to hear, especially over the sound of the river.

“We’ll go by ourselves, then. We don’t need him; we’ll have more fun without him anyway.”

It was Éowyn’s turn to stare. “B-but we can’t do that, Éomer. We’ll get in trouble,” she said, but a smile began forming on her lips.

Éomer grinned and shrugged. “Why not? What’ll he do to us? He’s just our cousin.”

“How do we do it without him seeing us?”

“Pretend you need to relieve yourself… over there,” he gestured with his head a little upstream and on the other side of Théodred, “and I’ll say I’m going to get my knife I left in my saddlebag. When I’m in the bushes, I’ll circle around Théodred and get you and we’ll go to your tree.”

“You’re wearing your knife.” She stared at the knife belted to his waist.

“I-I brought father’s, too.”

Éowyn was not really surprised he’d brought the knife that meant so much to him and she stared down at the ground for a minute, thinking. It might work, but even if it didn’t, it would be fun to try. She looked up at Éomer and smiled. “All right, but we’ll have to do it quickly because he won’t be fooled very long.”

“I know,” he replied, shrugging. “Go on.” He made a shooing motion and with a deep breath his sister stood and ambled off. She didn’t look directly at Théodred as she walked past him, glancing at him from the corner of her eye instead. The slight smile on his face made her wonder what he was thinking but Éowyn didn’t ask and she was startled when he spoke.

“Where are you going now, Cousin?”

“I’ll be right back,” she replied without slowing, “I really need to go…” she gestured vaguely in the direction ahead of her and Théodred nodded, still with a slight smile on his face.

“Don’t be long,” was all he said as the she disappeared into the bushes. Théodred chuckled under his breath and turned his gaze toward Éomer. The boy was digging into his pouch and, after a moment, he pulled out three rocks which he quickly tried skipping across the water. The first rock sank immediately but he took more time with the other two and they fairly flew across the top of the water and he let out a loud whoop after the second one. After a moment he turned and, whistling tunelessly, headed for the spot where they’d left their saddlebags and the bag of food in the coolness of the thick bushes.

Théodred watched Éomer leave without saying a word and as the boy also disappeared into the bushes his smile widened into a grin. Shaking his head, he wondered if they truly believed they’d fooled him. He stood and went to the river where he knelt and poured a handful of water over his head, trying to cool himself off in the heat of the day. After running his fingers through his hair and squeezing the water from it, Théodred drank several handfuls before he set off in search of the children. Not that he didn’t know exactly where they were. He could hear Éowyn’s slight movement not far from where she’d entered the bushes that grew close around the willows that lined the river, and while he couldn’t hear Éomer, Théodred assumed he’d be joining Éowyn on their way to the tree.

Deciding to let his cousins have their fun, Théodred strolled upriver. He listened for the children and knew when Éomer finally met his sister by their quiet whispering and the rustling of the leaves. It was then he decided that Éomer needed additional lessons in woodcraft to go along with his sword work. Arriving at the tree that Éowyn had her heart so set on, Théodred looked it over carefully and smiled. She was right. It was a tree that any child would enjoy playing in. Settling himself comfortably on one of the roots and leaning back against the trunk, Théodred waited.

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It took the children longer than Théodred originally thought it would to work their way through the bushes and he amused himself by whittling and watching a sparrow attacking a squirrel in a nearby tree. Only once was he concerned with having his cousins out of his sight and that was when the children were quiet for what seemed like five minutes, though it realized it was probably far less. But, eventually they moved on and he relaxed. As they neared the tree, Théodred sheathed his knife and tossed aside his wood as he pondered whether or not he should try to scare his cousins a bit by hiding. He knew that as soon as they reached the tree they’d be looking back downriver to see if he was still sitting where he’d been earlier. If he wasn’t there, Éomer and Éowyn would be left wondering if something had happened to him. In which case there was no telling what they might do. But hiding also seemed a little bit like playing and even though he was letting them have their fun, he knew he was going to have to scold them at the very least. Théodred decided to remain in plain sight and see what happened when the children came into view. He didn’t have to wait long.

Éomer appeared first as he cautiously poked his head out of the bushes and looked around. Théodred was hard pressed to keep his expression stern and his amusement hidden at the look of disbelief that crossed Éomer’s face when he saw him. The boy sighed and a sheepish grin appeared as he crawled out of the bushes before turning and beckoning his sister to join him. When she didn’t immediately come out, Théodred called to her,

“Come on out, Éowyn.” He paused and then added dryly, “I do know you’re there.”

There was another moment of silence before the little girl stepped out. She didn’t look at her cousin as she vigorously brushed twigs, leaves, and dirt off her tunic and breeches. Théodred waited until she’d finished before speaking again.

“Are you hungry? Should we eat lunch now?”

Éowyn’s head shot up and she looked at him suspiciously. Why was he not punishing them in some way?

“I’m hungry,” Éomer said slowly and with a slight frown as he was asking himself the same question his sister was asking. He darted a quick glance at Éowyn but she was staring at Théodred.

“Éowyn?” Théodred inquired with an arched eyebrow when she didn’t respond to his question. She nodded and without another word he stood and made his way back down the river bank. The children exchanged confused glances before quickly following him. No one spoke until they were almost back to where they’d been earlier.

Éowyn’s curiosity finally got the best of her and she asked in a low voice, “Ar-aren’t you going to punish us, Théodred?” Her cousin took several more steps before he stopped, turned and gazed briefly at her and then at Éomer for a long moment before his intense bluish-grey eyes settled on her.

“Do you need to be punished?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle. She shifted uneasily on her feet and Éomer took her hand and started to speak. “I was asking Éowyn,” Théodred said sternly with a quelling glance at the boy who subsided with a startled look. But he didn’t move away nor did he release her hand.

She shook her head. “No! I won’t do it again, Théodred,” she promised earnestly. “I’m sorry,” she added, biting her lip.

“I accept your apology, Éowyn, and trust that you’ve given me your word,” he said, nodding, satisfied that at least Éowyn wouldn’t be sneaking off anytime soon. He turned to Éomer. “Did Éowyn tell you that she wasn’t supposed to go to the tree?”

“Yes, but I thought we’d…”

“That was a yes or no question.” Théodred winced inwardly as he interrupted the boy hoping he wasn’t being too harsh with him. But, he remembered his own father speaking to him in a similar tone and he kept in mind that when Éomer joined an éored he would be expected to obey any direction given and could not sneak off at his own whim.

“Yes.” Éomer stared at the ground, the hand not holding Éowyn’s curling into a tight fist.

“Then you should not have taken her there against my express wishes, Éomer. As her older brother she looks to you and will follow you wherever you lead and while nothing ill happened this time, who is to say that it might not on some other occasion; especially if an adult is not with you.” Théodred paused at the grimace that crossed the boy’s face at that point. He remembered what it felt like being talked to by his father in this manner, but he didn’t know how to make it easier for his cousin – not if he was to learn. However, Théodred laid his hand on Éomer’s shoulder and the boy looked up, his blue eyes showing a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

“Éomer,” Théodred continued in a softer voice, “I’m not speaking to you simply because you disobeyed me – even if it was indirectly - you knew it was wrong and you did it anyway, did you not?”

“Yes, but… yes, I did.” His head dropped back down.

“I’m speaking to you because in a few short years you’ll be joining an éored and you’ll have to obey any order that you’re given whether it makes sense to you or not. You cannot just decide that you know better than your captain and take one of your friends and go do what you want…”

“I wouldn’t do that!” Éomer protested. He shrugged out from underneath Théodred’s hand and stepped back away from him, scowling fiercely.

“Éomer would never do that!” Éowyn jumped to his defense without even blinking and contrary to her brother, she stepped closer to Théodred causing him to take a hasty step back so she wouldn’t step on his feet.

“Peace,” said Théodred, holding up his hands; he was amazed once again at the way they protected each other. “I know you would never intend to do such a thing, but if you get in the habit of disobeying you might have a hard time when you do join your éored.” He watched Éomer think about that for a moment before he added with a wry smile, “It will also make living with my father much easier.”

The children glanced at each other with wide eyes and finally Éowyn looked up at Théodred and asked in a small voice, “Are you going to tell him what we did?” The thought of their uncle, who was also the king, knowing she’d disobeyed was frightening. She couldn’t imagine what he might do to them.

Théodred scratched his beard along his left cheek as he stared down at her for a moment; a brief glance at Éomer showed him that the boy seemed to have the same fears as Éowyn and he shook his head. “No, I’m not, Éowyn. You’ve given me your word that you won’t do it again and while Éomer hasn’t, I think…”

“I won’t either, Théodred!” Éomer interrupted, eager to once again be in his cousin’s good graces.

After studying the boy for a moment, Théodred smiled and nodded. “Good. Then we’ll say no more about it. Now, let’s eat and afterward we’ll head home.”

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To be continued…

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my wonderful Beta’s, Marsha and J.

Chapter Four – Mishap

Wending his way through the bushes alongside the Snowbourn, Théodred led his cousins along a different path back toward Edoras. They paused at several spots where the river ran slow and deep in dark pools along the bank, perfect places for fish to hide and Théodred promised to bring the children back when he returned from his next patrol. Eventually, though, the bushes and trees grew too thickly together to continue along the river and they turned and rode out onto the open grasslands.

The ride upstream had taken them out of sight and farther away from Edoras; a spur of the White Mountains now lay between them and their home. Its size gave it a foreboding feel and they urged their horses into a canter as they made their way around it. The steep slope was littered with large boulders and a few scraggly pine trees amidst the ever present grass that covered the lands of Rohan.

Éomer stared at the hillside as they rode past wondering if he might be allowed to come back. Perhaps with those boys he’d met earlier, he thought as he saw what looked like a cave, or maybe just some rocks that were leaning on each other and forming some sort of rough shelter. Whichever it was, the hillside looked like a place where he could have a lot of fun. Glancing at Éowyn when she called to him, Éomer never even saw the birds that came bursting out of the grass right in front of his horse.

Startled by their sudden appearance, the whirring noise of the birds’ wings, and the sound of the calls as they flew past his nose, Cempa came to a complete and abrupt halt, his eyes wide and his body trembling. Éomer, however, kept going. He flew out of the saddle and over Cempa’s head at roughly the same speed at which they’d been traveling. Éomer tried to roll – he’d been taught the best way to land when falling from a horse at a very young age – but he didn’t quite get his head down nor his shoulders tucked in against his body properly. He came out of the awkward half roll and went skittering across the trail with his hands out to try and stop himself. Éomer came to the same sort of abrupt stop that his horse had as he slammed into rocks that dotted the area close to the mountain. The boy cried out briefly before all movement ceased and he lay as if dead.

Théodred leaped off Féle and was at Éomer’s side almost before the boy stopped moving. He swore loudly at the blood that was pouring out of a deep, long gash on the side of the boy’s head. Théodred had no training as a healer but had been in enough battles and seen enough injuries to know that a wound like that could be life-threatening if not treated promptly. Scanning him quickly for other injuries, Théodred glanced at and then ignored the numerous small cuts and scrapes on his stomach and chest that Éomer had gotten when he’d slid across the trail – those could wait. However, his cousin’s left arm was bent at an odd angle and Théodred realized it was broken.

Swearing once again, Théodred gently and carefully moved the boy a few feet away from the rocks onto a softer bit of ground where the grass grew more thickly. Éomer did not flinch or make a sound as he was being moved and Théodred wondered just how badly the boy had been hurt. He’d fallen from plenty of horses in his life and had been knocked unconscious several times, but he didn’t think he’d ever been out even this long. Shaking his head in dismay, he hastened to Féle to get the small bag of healing supplies that he did carry… that all Riders carried.

“Is-is he dead?”

The sound of the quiet, trembling voice stopped Théodred in his tracks and he spun on his heels to look at Éowyn who sat white-face and shaking on her black horse. He had forgotten she was even with them he realized, appalled.

“No, he’s not.” Théodred hurried back toward Éomer, thoughts of getting the bleeding stopped foremost in his mind.

“Is-is he going to die?”

Again, Éowyn’s voice trembled and Théodred heard the note of fear, perhaps even panic in it. He wasn’t sure how to respond because while he didn’t think Éomer was going to die, what if he did? He shuddered involuntarily. Already he was fond of his cousin and he would hate to see the effect it would have on Éowyn. Still, he would not lie to her.

“I don’t think so, Éowyn, but he is badly hurt. Come and help me.” Théodred wasn’t sure if having her come closer and actually seeing Éomer’s injuries was a good idea or not, but he didn’t know what else to do with such a little girl. However, he didn’t watch to see what she would do. As he dropped to his knees next to the still unconscious boy he untied the bag, fumbling with the knot briefly before it came loose and he spilled half of the healing supplies on the ground. He bit his tongue against the curse that threatened, reminding himself that Éowyn was near. Grabbing a cloth from the bag, Théodred folded it and placed it firmly against the ragged gash that started just above Éomer’s left eye and went back into his hair three or four inches.

Théodred knew that head wounds bled a lot, but as he pressed firmly on the cloth he was amazed at how quickly the blood soaked through it and he grabbed another one wondering if he would have enough cloths and what he would do if he couldn’t get it to stop bleeding. He pushed aside that thought; it would do him no good right now. A sudden gasp made Théodred glance down at Éomer hopefully but then he realized that the noise had come from behind him and without looking at her he spoke.

“I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks, Éowyn,” he said in his gentlest voice. “Head wounds bleed a lot. But,” he paused and glanced back at her then, swallowing hard when he saw her. He did not need two children to take care of and he hoped that her pale skin, ragged breathing, and wide, frightened eyes as she stared at her brother did not mean she was going to faint or be sick. “Éowyn, look at me,” Théodred commanded. He spoke softly but there was a definite note of command in his voice and the little girl looked at him, surprise pushing aside the fear in her eyes.

“Éowyn, you cannot be sick now. You’re an Eorlinga and I need you to be strong… Éomer needs you to be strong.” Théodred returned his gaze to the injured boy and winced at the blood seeping through the second cloth he had placed on top of the first one. No wonder Éowyn was shocked upon seeing her brother up close; bright red blood covered the whole left side of his head. His hair glistened with blood, it dripped into his ear, it still moved slowly down his cheek where it ran down his neck before soaking the collar of his tunic and pooling in a small puddle on the ground.

“W-what do y-you want me to do?” Éowyn stepped closer to Théodred to block the sight of her brother from her eyes.

“I need more cloth to stop the bleeding,” her cousin replied without looking back at her. “I don’t know if you or Éomer have any such thing in your saddlebags, but if you do bring it to me. There is some cloth in the bag that held our lunch. Get it quickly.” He called her back before she’d gone two steps. “Éowyn, remember to move slowly around Féle, he does not know you well.”

“I’ll be careful,” she promised as she slowly made her way to the horse that stood watching them a short distance away, its nostrils flaring slightly at the scent of the blood.

Théodred glanced over his shoulder once to check on Éowyn’s progress and was pleased to see that she was able to get the bag from Féle without incident and he turned his full attention back to Éomer. He thought perhaps the flow of blood had slowed with the addition of a third cloth but he couldn’t be sure and he kept a steady pressure on it as he waited for Éowyn to return. Turning his mind to other things he began to think of what he needed to do next. He couldn’t stitch up the wound; he’d never done such a thing and while he’d seen it done numerous times his sewing skills were so poor that he usually begged one of the men of his éored to repair the rips in his tunics and breeches when on patrol. No, he decided, stitching would have to wait until they returned to Edoras.

Setting the arm would be somewhat easier; Théodred had helped do that several times. Broken arms were a fairly common injury among the men and boys of Edoras. All he needed was a couple of sturdy sticks to use as splints and something to tie the sticks to Éomer’s arm. He would take some straps from the saddles or tear strips from his shirt. As for the small cuts and scrapes across the boy’s chest and stomach, those would just have to wait until they were back in Edoras. From what he could see through Éomer’s tattered clothing, Théodred didn’t think any of the wounds were too serious, though blood seeped from several of the longer cuts and he could see small pebbles imbedded here and there.

“Here.” Éowyn thrust several bags at Théodred but he shook his head.

“No. I need you to take out any cloths that are in them and shake them out as best you can. We need them to be as clean as possible, Éowyn.”

The little girl nodded and with a worried glance at her brother she took out the cloth their bread had been wrapped in and began shaking it vigorously.

“Not here,” Théodred said, grimacing. “Over there.” He gestured with his head in the direction he wanted her to go and she quickly moved to where he’d pointed and started over.

“W-why doesn’t h-he wake up?” She hiccupped and Théodred realized she’d been crying, though her red eyes were the only visible sign of her recent tears.

“It hasn’t really been that long yet, Éowyn. Not even ten minutes,” he said in a soothing voice as she rejoined him, kneeling beside him. “It just seems like a long time because you’re so worried.” He did not tell her that he was becoming concerned; the longer the boy was out the more likely it was there’d be permanent damage. He’d seen men who’d been knocked unconscious for long periods of time and the thought of Éomer suffering such a fate frightened him. With a brief smile of thanks, he took the cloth she handed him and, after hesitating a moment, he tied it tightly around Éomer’s head with the thick pad of cloths held snugly in place. Théodred watched closely and let out a deep sigh when only a small stain of blood appeared on the rough, brown cloth.

“Is there cloth in those other bags?”

“I-I didn’t look… I just, just br-brought them.” Éowyn continued to stutter in her fear and anguish.

Théodred paused in his search through Éomer’s saddlebag and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to his side. “I truly believe he’ll be all right, Éowyn,” he whispered as he hugged her tightly. “We just need to give him a little time.” He kissed her forehead as he released her. “All right?” Éowyn took a deep breath and let it out before she nodded. “Good girl,” he said with an approvingly smile. “I need you to search for some sticks so I can set his arm. They need to be…”

“What’s the matter with his arm?”

Théodred noticed she’d lost her stutter rather quickly as she demanded the information. “It’s broken and it’ll be easier to set while he’s unconscious; it won’t hurt him so badly.” But it was not to be because no sooner had those words left his mouth when a small moan escaped Éomer’s lips and his eyelids started to flutter. Relief flooded Théodred; he didn’t believe his cousin had been out long enough to cause lasting damage and if they could get him back to Edoras and into the hands of a healer without delay, Éomer should recover completely. Éomer’s eyes opened slowly and he blinked against the harsh light of the afternoon sun, closing them briefly. He finally stared up at Théodred, his eyes dark and cloudy with pain and fear.

“Don’t move,” Théodred said softly, laying a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I don’t know what you remember but you fell from your horse and you’ve been unconscious for a time. You have a…”

“You broke your arm, Éomer!” Éowyn interrupted her cousin. “And you have blood all over your face.”

Éomer turned his head to look at his arm. A strange expression crossed his face and he turned deathly white. “I’m going…” Further words were lost as he made a gurgling, coughing noise deep in his throat. Théodred quickly turned him on his right side so he could be sick without choking. As careful and gentle as he was, however, he jarred the boy’s broken arm and Éomer cried out in pain between spasms as he emptied his stomach onto the ground. Théodred held his hair out of his face and carefully laid him back down when he was finished and the boy whimpered, biting his lip and blinking back tears.

“It’s all right, you’re going to be all right,” Théodred crooned softly. The sound of retching behind him made him cringe and he knew that Éowyn had not been able to stop herself once the smell coming from Éomer hit her. He sighed deeply; he just hoped she’d managed to keep herself clean. Glancing quickly over his shoulder he saw that Éowyn had moved a short distance away and she stood with her shoulders slumped and her arms folded tightly across her stomach. She had remained mostly clean; only her boots and lower breeches showed evidence of her retching. The little girl’s eyes clearly showed her misery as she gazed at Théodred.

But, young as she was, he needed her help. He didn’t feel he could leave Éomer alone just yet and he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Éowyn alone with him in case he started bleeding again. Théodred glanced down at the boy and swore loudly. Blood was soaking the bandage again; the retching and sudden movement had evidently started the wound bleeding again. For a moment he panicked. What if he couldn’t get the bleeding stopped? What else should he try? Should he just put Éomer on his horse and ride hard for Edoras? No. He took a deep, calming breath. Edoras was more than an hour’s ride away and if he didn’t get the bleeding stopped before putting him on the horse, Éomer would probably be dead before they reached the city gates.

“Théodred?” His voice came out in a low whisper and Théodred could hear Éomer’s pain and fear even in the single word he spoke. It matched the look in his eyes which were bright with unshed tears.

He looked back down at the boy with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “You must not move, Éomer or I fear you’ll be sick again. Your head is bleeding again… ah,” he grabbed the boy’s right hand as he started to move it toward the bandage. He squeezed it and set it back down by his side. “Stay still. It’s going to be all right, but I need to get it stopped.” Théodred turned to look for Éowyn and was startled to find her standing at his shoulder.

“Éowyn, take a very small drink and rinse out your mouth... we need to save most of the water for Éomer. Then I need you to find some wood for a fire. I have to make him something for the pain.” As he spoke he removed his waist-length tunic and started pulling his shirt over his head.

“W-what are you doing?”

“We need more bandages,” he said as he began ripping the shirt into long strips. “Now, go.” Éowyn trotted away in search of the wood.

“S-she’s too…”

“Hush.” Théodred laid a finger on Éomer’s lips. “I know she’s too young, but I have no choice. And it’s better if she keeps busy anyway.” He stared at the bandage, which was now soaked through, trying to decide if he should take it off or simply apply more bandages on top of what was already there. Why had he never paid attention to such things? What if he did it wrong and Éomer died, he thought with a hint of despair darkening his thoughts. A low whimper broke through his musing and he shook himself mentally. He had to do something. Right or wrong he had to make a decision and he could only pray it was the right one.

It seemed to make little sense to leave on the pads he already had in place; they were already soaked with blood. He carefully untied the long bandage and peeled away the blood-soaked cloths one at a time. Reaching the wound itself, Théodred tried to see if it looked worse than before but there was no way to tell with the seeping blood and buried as much as the gash was in the boy’s hair. As he applied the fresh, folded cloth to the area he wondered how the healers did this sort of thing all of the time; it was not something he could do. It was too difficult watching someone in this sort of pain.

The cloth again became soaked with blood, but not as swiftly as it had earlier; there was a definite lessening in the amount and it was taking longer until he had to add another cloth. Perhaps the worst was over. But the sound of Éomer’s ragged breathing and a quick glance at Éomer’s pain-filled eyes stopped that notion; it was far from over for him. He gently and carefully tied a bandage around the boy’s head, tying it as tightly as he could so the cloths would not slip out of place.

“It’s stopping,” he said, clasping Éomer’s shoulder briefly. “I must see to starting a fire and making you something for the pain before I set your arm, all right?”

“C-can I… drink?”

“Yes, of course! I’m sorry, Éomer, I should have realized.” Théodred picked up the waterskin and then frowned, wondering how best to give the boy a drink. Lifting his head too far would likely cause enough pain that he would retch again, which might start the bleeding again. But lying flat to drink was just as likely to cause him to choke with the same results. Shrugging inwardly he finally lifted Éomer’s head a fraction and began dribbling in the water a few drops at a time. He spoke soothingly to the boy as he eagerly drank what little water Théodred allowed him.

“That’s all,” he said, setting the waterskin aside and laying Éomer back down. “We need the water for the willow bark tea. You’re shivering,” he muttered as he noticed the trembling body. Shock… was he going into shock? What did that even mean? Warm… he had to be kept warm he vaguely remembered hearing. Where was Éowyn with the wood? Not that there was much around here; broken limbs from the few scattered trees. Théodred glanced around and spotted her on the far side of the horses with a few small pieces of wood in her arms. He picked up his tunic which he’d set aside earlier and laid it over the boy, being careful not to touch his broken arm. The tunic stretch from Éomer’s throat to his knees but it wasn’t very warm and Théodred knew he needed something else. They had no blankets… blankets! The horses had blankets of a sort under their saddles and he stood, murmuring to Éomer that he’d return shortly.

The two older horses eyed Théodred placidly as he approached; only his own horse, Féle, seemed uneasy and began edging away. The red horse stopped at Théodred’s sharp whistle and stood, blowing and swishing its tail. Since no one would be riding Cempa on their return to Edoras, he quickly removed the saddle from the bay horse, speaking softly to the animal as he worked. The blanket was worn and it wasn’t large, but it would help keep Éomer warm.

“What are you doing? Where’s your tunic?”

Théodred blinked in surprise as he looked down at Éowyn. She had an uncanny ability to sneak up on him unawares.

“Éomer’s cold.” He looked at the small bundle of wood she carried and sighed softly. It certainly was not enough to keep the boy warm, but hopefully it would last long enough to heat the water for the tea. He started back toward his cousin with Éowyn trailing at his heels. “Have you ever started a fire?” Théodred didn’t know when little girls started doing such things.

“Of course I have,” she replied indignantly, glaring up at her tall cousin. “I helped m-mama cook and she taught me.”

“Good. Then start one right there.” Théodred pointed to a spot just beyond Éomer’s feet. He knelt down next to the injured boy as Éowyn set to work on the fire. The boy’s eyes were closed but popped open when Théodred spread the blanket over him from the waist down, wanting to keep the heavier blanket off of Éomer’s injured torso.

“T-thank you,” he whispered. Éomer’s pain-glazed eyes traveled over Théodred’s bare chest. “I’m n-not cold.” His cousin smiled.

“I’m not cold, either, and I think you’ll need it before we get home.” He paused for a moment and studied the boy, wondering if he should tell him his concerns. Deciding that he would want to know the truth if he was Éomer, he continued. “Éomer, I won’t lie to you. Setting your arm will be painful and I’m sorry for that, but I’m most concerned about getting you home. It’s a long way and I’m afraid that the movement of the horse will make you sick again, or you’ll start bleeding again. I’m going to make some willow bark tea to help lessen your pain.” He hoped to make it strong enough so the boy might sleep, though he doubted he would. The pain Éomer was in was too great, but perhaps it would at least relax him a bit.

Éomer grimaced at the thought of the tea. It was bitter and left a horrible taste in your mouth after drinking it. But he said nothing; his head and arm hurt so much that the relief it promised was worth the taste. He did, however, ask about his arm. “M-my arm… how bad is it?” He wondered if it would affect his ability to be a Rider.

“I don’t know,” Théodred admitted. “I haven’t examined it closely. But,” he moved over to the fire as he continued speaking, “it didn’t break through the skin and those are the worse sort of broken arms. Most Riders have broken an arm or a leg… some more than once.”

“Even you?” Éowyn asked from her spot near the slowly growing fire.

Théodred was pulling the herbs he needed from his healing bag as he answered. “Yes. When I was seventeen I fell from a horse and broke my wrist. It was only the second time I’d been out with your father’s patrol,” he added with a wry smile. He poured water from the waterskin into the small pot and set it on the edge of the fire to boil.

“Éowyn, watch the water while I find a couple of sticks for setting his arm.” He’d have to be quick because he still didn’t like the idea of leaving them alone, but none of the pieces of wood Éowyn had found were long enough or sturdy enough to work as splints. He hurried in the opposite direction from the way Éowyn had been looking and found one stick within ten feet of where Éomer lay. Finding the other stick took time and he was growing frustrated by the delay by the time he found something he thought could be cut into a splint. Théodred trotted back to the others and quickly noticed that Éomer’s eyes were closed, and he frowned when he saw that the boy was still shivering.

Handing the sticks to Éowyn as he crouched down by the fire, Théodred immediately began adding the herbs he’d set out earlier to the now boiling water. Using a stick he carefully lifted the hot pot and set it off to the side to allow the herbs to steep and to cool it down enough for Éomer to drink. He then turned back to getting the splints ready.

“Éowyn, we need three or four straps to hold these splints on his arm. We might need the cloth I cut from my shirt so I want you to find some laces from other things. Take them off the bag from lunch or the saddlebags. I’ll get the splints ready.” The girl nodded and scurried away to do his bidding. Théodred watched her for a moment, suddenly grateful for her presence. He then busied himself cutting the sticks into the proper lengths.

0-0-0

“Drink this, Éomer,” said Théodred slipping his arm under the boy’s head and lifting it just a bit. A low moan came from Éomer before his eyes opened and he looked blearily up at his cousin. “Drink this,” he said again and held the small pot to the boy’s lips. Éomer opened his mouth obediently and Théodred began slowly dribbling in the warm, bitter liquid. As the first drops hits his tongue, Éomer scrunched up his nose and tried to pull away from Théodred. “Be still,” he said sharply, “you must drink this.” He added more gently, “It will help you feel better, Éomer.”

“Mama always added honey,” said Éowyn from where she sat across from him, holding Éomer’s right hand.

“I don’t carry it,” Théodred said, “none of the Riders do… at least none that I know.” Éomer closed his eyes and opened his mouth with a weary sigh and Théodred began dribbling in the willow bark tea slowly but steadily until it was gone. After a moment, Éomer’s eyes opened and he looked up at Théodred with a pleading expression.

“Water?”

“Just a sip.” Théodred held up the waterskin and shook it; there was the faint sound of water sloshing. “This is all we have left, the other one is empty.” He gave the boy a drink and after glancing at Éowyn held it out to her. She stared at it and then up at him with a worried frown.

“Is there enough?” she asked, unconsciously licking her lips. It had been a long time now since lunch and when she’d last had a real drink and the afternoon was warm. “Doesn’t Éomer need it?”

“There’s enough,” replied Théodred, knowing that she needed to drink even if there wasn’t a lot of water; it wouldn’t do to have her falling from her horse for lack of water. “Just a sip, though,” he cautioned as she took the waterskin. He wished they had enough water to clean up Éomer who still had blood all over his face and neck, but it couldn’t be helped. They sat quietly for a few minutes to let the tea take effect, hoping to dull the pain setting his broken arm would cause. Théodred finally took a deep breath; he couldn’t put it off any longer… it was time to set Éomer’s arm. He tried sending Éowyn away so that she wouldn’t have to see the pain her brother would have to endure, but she refused to leave his side.

“Éomer, I’m going to set your arm now. You can hold onto Éowyn’s hand if you want to, but you must try not to move or you’ll be sick again.”

Éomer opened his eyes and Théodred was pleased to see that they were no longer bright and glazed with pain, but were dulled somewhat. “I’ll t-try,” he whispered.

Determined to do it as quickly as possible, Théodred picked up the boy’s left arm and felt carefully along the forearm, ignoring the whimpers and hisses of pain coming from Éomer. The break was about halfway between his wrist and his elbow and, from what he could tell, it was the smaller bone in the arm. Risking a glance at Éomer’s face he swallowed hard at the tears streaming down his cheeks and beads of sweat on his brow; a sniff from Éowyn’s direction told him she was also crying and he turned back to his task. Grabbing the boy’s arm above and below the break he carefully, yet as swiftly as possible, realigned the bone. There was an audible click as it slipped back into place. Éomer cried out sharply and fainted much to Théodred’s relief. He spoke soothingly to Éowyn to calm her as he quickly bound the splints to his cousin’s arm while the boy was unconscious and feeling no pain. As Théodred tied the last strap, Éomer woke up and looked around with a dazed expression.

“Wh-what… happened?”

“You fainted,” Éowyn informed her brother with a worried frown. “But Théodred finished your arm, so it’ll be better now.” She gently patted his hand as she wiped the tears from her eyes with her shoulder. Éomer turned his gaze to Théodred for confirmation.

“She’s right; I’m done and as soon as we clean up here we’re heading home. Éowyn stay with your brother while I put out the fire and get the horses ready.” He gave Éomer’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving. After stomping out the fire and scattering the ashes, Théodred gathered all of his healing supplies that he’d left lying around and put them back in his bag before heading for the horses. Féle snorted at his arrival, uneasy at the smell of the blood on his hands and clothes, but the horse would just have to get used to it, Théodred thought with annoyance as he checked the saddle and bridle. This was very little blood compared to what he might be covered with after battling orcs.

Cempa and Ósle stood still as Théodred checked their tack. He paused, frowning, as he considered Éowyn’s horse. The black horse was slow, much slower than either Féle or Cempa and he wondered if she should ride Cempa instead. Ósle would follow after them at his own speed and he could send someone back for the horse as soon as they arrived in Edoras. He just wasn’t sure the little girl could handle the larger, more powerful horse. After watching her ride all afternoon, he knew that she had the ability to ride Cempa… as long as she didn’t fear the larger horse. Deciding it was worth trying he turned and called Éowyn to him.

“Have you ever ridden Cempa?” Éowyn’s eyes widened in surprise at the question and she shook her head.

“No, Éomer wouldn’t let me… he says Cempa’s too big.”

Théodred looked the little girl up and down. She was tall for her age, the Númenórean blood she’d received from her grandmother, Morwen Steelsheen, as evident in her as it was in Éomer and himself. While Éomer’s saddle would be too large for her, he could put her saddle on Cempa and it should work well enough he decided. He crouched down so he was eye level with Éowyn and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Could you ride him? He’s much faster than Ósle and we’ll get home much more quickly if you can ride him.” He put his hand up before she could answer him. “I want you to answer me honestly, Éowyn. If you’re too scared to ride him then you need to tell me now. I’d rather go a little slower and make sure we get there safely than to go fast and have you fall because you’re scared or because you can’t control him. I don’t want to have two injured children to tend to,” Théodred said with a half smile as he gently squeezed her shoulders.

Éowyn furrowed her brow as she thought. She looked up at the tall horse and then glanced back at her brother who lay unmoving with his eyes closed. Taking a deep breath, she nodded.

“I can ride him, Théodred,” she said, her jaw set and her eyes narrowed.

“Good.” Théodred stood and began exchanging the saddles while Éowyn watched him.

“What will happen to Ósle?” Éowyn suddenly asked.

“He’ll follow after us and I’ll send someone from Edoras to get him as soon as we arrive,” Théodred said with a quick glance down at the little girl. Tears filled her eyes but she said nothing. “You have my word on that, Éowyn. He’s a smart horse and he’ll be able to find his way.” She remained silent as he placed Éomer’s saddle on Ósle and tightened the girth strap.

“Tell Ósle what you want him to do while I gather the saddlebags; I’m going to put all of the bags on him, and I’m giving you my healing supplies.” Théodred gathered the things from the area near where the fire had been and returned to find Éowyn speaking softly to her horse and rubbing its nose. He stood quietly by for a moment before he began tying the bags to Ósle’s saddle. Théodred patted Ósle and whispered his thanks into its ear as he led Éowyn away.

“Let me give you a hand up,” he said as he gestured for her to mount Cempa. It would have been easier to just lift her into the saddle, but he wanted to give her a bit of self-confidence by simply helping her into the saddle. He held the reins – though the bay didn’t move – while Éowyn used the stirrup and the straps hanging from the saddle to pull herself up and into the seat. She took the reins from Théodred with a half smile and whispered thanks.

“Walk him around a minute and let me watch you.” Théodred watched closely as Éowyn directed Cempa in a wide circle and was pleased with what he saw. She didn’t seem intimidated by the horse and it responded well to her direction. “Trot him,” he called out and she kicked the horse into the faster gait. Again, the horse responded without hesitation and Théodred was satisfied as he motioned her to return. Hopefully, Cempa would respond as well at a canter over the distance back to Edoras.

It was probably Féle he should be concerned about, he thought with an inward sigh as he took up the reins of his horse. The large red horse had never carried two riders before and with one of them covered with blood it didn’t bode well. Still, it had to be done. He stopped several feet away from Éomer and put his hands on both sides of Féle’s head to get the horse’s attention. The horse shifted uneasily, stomping its back foot and swishing its tail; Théodred patted the side of its head, rubbed around its ears, scratched the white star on its forehead, and blew in its nostrils until Féle settled down. He then spoke softly to the horse.

“You have to carry both Éomer and me home, Féle. He’s hurt and can’t ride Cempa. I know you don’t like the smell of blood, but it won’t hurt you. I promise it won’t hurt you. You have to run as fast as you can but as smooth as you can because it’ll hurt him more if you don’t run smoothly.” Each word was punctuated with a gentle pat on Féle’s neck. “Will you do this for me?” Théodred looked closely for some response from the horse. He didn’t have a strong relationship with this horse yet, but it was growing. Féle stared at him and finally gave what Théodred thought might be a little bob of his head. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing and it gave him some hope for the ride home. Now he just had to get Éomer on the horse.

Théodred looked down at the injured boy for a moment as he thought about the best way to get him up and on the horse. There wasn’t any good way to do it; anything he did was going to hurt Éomer and he decided that the best thing was to do it quickly. Crouching down next to the boy he carefully lifted the blanket off and set it aside. Éomer opened his eyes at that and frowned up at his cousin who gave him a reassuring smile as he removed the tunic that lay over the boy. He’d wrap that around Éomer once he sat up.

“Do you feel any better since you drank the willow bark?”

“A little,” whispered Éomer as his gaze wandered around. He frowned again when he saw Éowyn astride Cempa. “W-why is…”

“Hush,” Théodred shook his head to stop the boy from speaking further. “Cempa is faster and we need to return to Edoras as quickly as we can. She’ll be all right on your horse, Éomer. Now, I need to get you on Féle and I fear it will not be pleasant for you. I’m going to help you sit up and let you take a breath before I pick you up and put you on my horse.”

It was the best plan he could think of, but he didn’t really think it would be that easy… and it wasn’t. Slipping his arm under Éomer’s shoulders he slowly raised the boy up, stopping as the boy’s breathing turned more ragged, more like panting and his face turned even whiter if that was possible. He clutched at Théodred’s arm.

“Sick…”

Théodred turned him slightly and Éomer vomited what little was left in his stomach out onto the ground. He wiped the boy’s mouth off with his hand and then wiped his hand off on his breeches. “I’m sorry, Éomer,” he said quietly as the boy shuddered. A glance at the bandages showed no new blood and he sighed inwardly with relief. Knowing that it was only going to get worse as they moved, Théodred quickly wrapped his tunic around the boy, placing it backwards to protect Éomer’s injured stomach as much as possible. Using a rein that he’d removed from Ósle’s bridle, he gently bound the broken arm to Éomer’s body as tightly as he dared so that the arm wouldn’t be unduly jarred during the ride home. He wrapped the blanket around the boy’s shoulders for warmth before sliding his arms under Éomer’s knees.

“I’m going to lift you up now,” Théodred warned Éomer. With a grunt he stood with the boy in his arms. He staggered slightly under the weight of the tall boy before regaining his balance and moving toward Féle. The horse stood still, his nostrils flaring slightly at their approach. After a momentary hesitation to decide the best way to proceed, Théodred turned slightly and lifted Éomer as high as he could to get the boy’s left leg over the back of the horse. Pushing him gently on the side and back he edged him up into the seat of the saddle where the boy slumped forward, crying out loudly as his injured stomach banged into the hard leather pommel.

Grimacing, Théodred held Éomer in place with one hand before swiftly mounting behind him. He pulled the boy back against himself with his left arm; holding him high on his chest where there was the least amount of damage. Éomer started retching again but nothing came up and he sagged back against Théodred with a long drawn-out sigh and his eyes closed against the pain and dizziness.

Pulling Féle around Théodred looked for Éowyn and discovered she was only a horse length away staring at Éomer with a worried glint in her eyes. She looked up at him as he turned and he spoke in what he hoped was a reassuring voice.

“He’ll be all right, Éowyn. We just need to get him home. Stay as close as you can and yell out if you’re having problems with Cempa or if you need to stop for any reason. All right?”

Éowyn nodded without saying a word, but Théodred did not see any lessening of the worry in her eyes. Well, he understood that. He was just as concerned as she was. Without another word, he turned and kicked Féle into a trot. After glancing back to make sure Cempa was following under Éowyn’s direction, he urged his horse into a canter.

They’d been traveling about a quarter of an hour when Éomer tugged on Théodred’s arm. “Hurts… d-dizzy.” The pain in the boy’s voice was almost more than Théodred could bear, but there was nothing he could do but get him back to Edoras and to a real healer.

“I’m sorry, but we cannot stop. I have to get you home as quickly as possible. You have to hold on a little longer.” While he knew exactly where they were, he didn’t tell Éomer that he couldn’t even see Edoras yet, that it could take close to an hour before they were home. Théodred felt the boy begin to shudder and soon the retching started again. He slowed Féle down a bit and looked over at Éowyn who’d been matching him stride for stride. After giving her a brief, reassuring smile he turned his attention back to Éomer and tried to find a way to help him without slowing further. But with the reins in one hand all he could do was hug him more closely until the dry heaves ended.

Just as Théodred was about to urge Féle on, he felt a splash on his arm. Grimacing, he glanced down, prepared to wipe away the spittle he assumed had come from Éomer’s lips. He swore when he discovered it was a drop of blood and that another drop joined the first one even as he stared at it. Leaning forward to look at Éomer’s forehead he saw that the bandage had slipped and was once again soaked through. He swore again, though it was whispered as he fought against the despair that filled his heart. What was he going to do now?

0-0-0-0-0

To be continued…

Author’s Note: Ah, a cliffhanger! I don’t usually do those, but this story just called for one. There should be a new chapter out next Sunday or Monday. I want to thank Surgical Steel for all of her help on this chapter. She gave me a lot of advice about head wounds and the kinds of injuries detailed in this chapter.

Author’s Note: I am sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, but real life events took me away from my computer for a time. A special thank you to my wonderful beta’s, Marsha and J.

Chapter Five – Rescue

Théodred reined Féle to a stop, yelling at Éowyn to do the same. He couldn’t give into despair; he’d just have to start over, surely he could tie the bandage tighter this time. Or, if the wound appeared worse, then he’d just have to try to stitch it himself.

Keeping one hand on Éomer, Théodred slid off his horse. Grabbing the boy around the waist he carefully pulled him down into his arms and took a few steps away before laying him in the soft green grass at the edge of the trail. The boy cried out weakly and Théodred suspected that the loss of blood was having more of an effect on Éomer than he’d realized. The healing supplies. He needed the healing supplies. Théodred looked around frantically for a moment before he remembered the bag was with Éowyn. After taking a deep breath to calm himself, he glanced over his shoulder to where he’d last seen her, intending to tell her to bring the bag.

To Théodred’s surprise, the little girl was still sitting on her horse. Even more surprising was that she wasn’t even looking at him and Éomer, but was staring back the way they’d come. He called to her, his voice probably sterner than was absolutely necessary.

“Éowyn, come quickly and bring the bag of healing supplies.”

“Someone is coming,” she said, turning to look at him, fear replacing the worry in her eyes. “What are you going to do, Théodred?” He was a warrior and a prince and she knew he’d protect them, though she didn’t know how. It looked like a lot of people riding toward them.

Théodred stood, pulling his sword in one smooth motion and moving swiftly to Éowyn. She let out a small squeal that was part surprise and part protest as he yanked her from the saddle and set her on the ground. While he knew that it was probably a returning patrol – Elfhelm’s was due back – he was taking no chances. He untied the bag of healing supplies and thrust it at her.

“Go stand by Féle and be ready to leave,” he ordered, pushing her toward his horse. If it was not a patrol but orcs or Dunlendings, then he’d ride hard for Edoras and Éowyn would ride with him and Éomer. Although they’d been traveling at a swift pace, it was still only a canter and he wouldn’t trust her to ride Cempa at a hard, full-out gallop.

Shielding his eyes against the sun that was now sinking in the western sky, Théodred stared into the distance trying to make out the fast approaching figures. He immediately ruled out orcs when he saw the horses and he relaxed somewhat, his sword tapping lightly against his high boots. It must be one of the patrols as the Dunlendings did not normally ride horses; only occasionally did they steal a few horses near the western borders of Rohan. A gust of wind blew and a standard one of the riders was carrying flared up briefly and Théodred heaved a sigh of relief and sheathed his sword. It was Elfhelm’s patrol. He turned and hurried back to Éomer, his mind immediately back on the boy and his injuries. The Riders were coming whether he watched them or not.

“Éowyn, bring me the bag.”

“Who’s coming?” she asked as she ran to him and handed him the bag. She knelt down next to him, picking up her brother’s hand and squeezing it.

“Elfhelm.” Théodred did not look up from what he was doing. Éomer seemed to be unconscious again, but he opened his eyes briefly when Éowyn asked her question. He ripped open the bag and began pulling out the cloth torn from his shirt as the little girl continued speaking.

“Who’s Elfhelm?”

“A friend… a patrol captain.”

“C-can he help Éomer?” The color of Éomer’s cheek – the one that wasn’t covered with blood – reminded her of her mama’s not long before she died and she was scared he was going to die too.

Théodred stopped and stared down at Éowyn, thinking. “No, he can’t,” he replied as he slowly shook his head, relief filling him. “But Harding rides with that patrol and he’s a good healer for a Rider. He’ll be able to help Éomer.” He smiled at the little girl and gave her a reassuring pat on her shoulder. Not sure what the best thing to do for Éomer until help arrived, he settled for taking the cloths and pressing them against the bloody bandages already on the wound. Hopefully, with enough pressure, he could slow the bleeding until Harding arrived. Éomer moaned and squirmed against the heavy hand and Théodred spoke softly to him.

“Help is coming… a real healer…” He repeated those and similar words as he watched the patrol rapidly draw near. There were twenty-five men in the patrol and they trotted their horses up close to the three of them before reining to a halt. Théodred could see the questions in Elfhelm’s eyes, but he gave him no time to ask them.

“I need Harding right now,” he barked. There was a stir amongst the Riders before a skinny, middle-aged man rode out from the middle of the group. The man took one look at the situation before him and immediately jumped down from his horse and began removing various bags from his saddle. By the time Harding was kneeling across from Théodred the rest of the men were off their horses and Elfhelm was giving them directions to set up a perimeter around the small group on the ground. He then joined Théodred and the others.

Théodred glanced briefly at Elfhelm as he finished telling Harding what he’d done to try and stop Éomer’s bleeding. Harding simply grunted occasionally as he listened and continued pulling various items from his bags and laying them on a cloth he’d set next to him.

“Some stitches should stop the bleeding, lord,” Harding finally interrupted Théodred. “He’s lost a lot of blood.” He gently touched the side of Éomer’s pale cheek and the boy’s eyes fluttered open and he stared up at the healer for a moment before closing his eyes with a sigh. “But, if we get it stopped now he should do well enough. Now, I need more water than I have in my waterskin.” He looked at the other men expectantly.

“We have none left,” Théodred said, “we used it all for Éomer earlier.”

Elfhelm started upon hearing the boy’s name and he glanced at the little girl, his eyes widening in recognition. “These are Éomund’s children! Why are…”

“Get the water. Explanations can wait,” Théodred ordered his friend. None of the men of this patrol knew of the death of Théodwyn as their patrol had been gone for over a month, but that news would keep until later.

“Bring some of the water to me now, but have some of it heated,” Harding called after Elfhelm as the captain hurried away. The healer paused as he reached for the bandages and he looked at Éowyn, frowning. The child hadn’t moved or said a word since he’d arrived. Harding glanced at Théodred whose attention was fixed on Éomer. “Lord, I think you should take her away from here while I tend to the boy.” That brought both of their gazes to him in a hurry. Éowyn shook her head vigorously and she latched onto Théodred’s arm as if someone intended to drag her away.

Théodred looked down at the girl briefly and then gave the healer a grim smile. “I doubt this will be worse than what she’s already seen, Harding, and she’ll will close her eyes or turn away if it becomes hard to watch, will you not?” he asked her. The little girl nodded once, her eyes wide as she looked between Théodred, Harding, and her injured brother, who was lying motionless. The healer gave a reluctant nod.

While Harding began tending to Éomer, Théodred gently loosened Éowyn’s hands from his arm and put his arm around her, pulling her close. He kept one eye on what the healer was doing, but he began speaking quietly to Éowyn about horses, life in Edoras, her friends in Aldburg, and anything else he could think of to keep her somewhat distracted from the proceedings. Watching him mop blood off of Éomer and set his broken arm were not the same as watching someone else stabbing the boy with a sharp, wicked looking needle. Théodred knew he was successful when he felt her relaxing against him and she began giving him more than simple, one-word answers to his questions.

Harding made it look so easy, Théodred thought as he watched the healer clean the wound and then competently stitch up the long, ragged gash. Taking some of the water Elfhelm brought, he then carefully cleaned the blood away and checked for other injuries before applying a bandage to Éomer’s head. He was also gentle because Éomer only whimpered occasionally as Harding worked, although Théodred thought that it might be because the boy was close to being unconscious. But, Harding had stitched him a time or two in the past and he was gentler than several of the other healers Théodred had encountered in his life.

After setting the pot of hot water near Harding, Elfhelm tossed Théodred a shirt which he quickly pulled on, glad to be fully clothed once again. Théodred saw the puzzled glances he kept shooting at him and Éowyn. But he ignored his friend. He was not going to discuss the death of Éowyn’s mother in front of the little girl. She’d already had a very difficult day and did not need to be reminded of that. Harding fixed Éomer some sort of herbal tea, though Théodred did not know what was in it besides what looked like at least some willow bark. When the tea was cool enough he carefully dribbled it into the boy’s mouth and then sat back with a satisfied smile.

“That should keep the worst of the pain away until we get him home, lord. I’ll check his arm then too, but you’ve set those before so I imagine it’ll be all right. You did well to try and keep him warm,” he said, gently patting Éomer’s chest which was still covered by Théodred’s tunic and the horse blanket. Éomer jerked and cried out softly at the contact and Harding blinked in surprise before throwing back the blanket and tunic and exposing the injuries on the boy’s stomach and chest. He turned a steely glare on Théodred. “Why did you not mention these, Prince Théodred?”

Théodred blinked in surprise. He’d not truly forgotten about the injuries, but in the rush to stop the bleeding from the more serious head wound, he had forgotten to mention them to Harding. Éowyn interrupted his explanation before he even started when she straightened up and turned angry eyes on the healer.

“Don’t scold Théodred! He saved Éomer. H-he w-would have d-died…” the last few words were lost as the little girl’s pent up emotions finally succumbed to the events of the afternoon. Tears began streaming down her face as she stared defiantly up at Harding for a brief moment and then with a loud sob she turned and buried her head in Théodred’s side.

Théodred sat unmoving, shocked that the little girl who’d been so strong and helpful could suddenly turn into this weeping child who was soaking him with her tears. His heart broke at the sound of the gut-wrenching sobs and he thought about all that Éowyn had been through in the last month and he sighed softly. After a moment’s thought he carefully picked her up and set her in his lap and patted her back gently as he spoke softly to her - telling her that everything was going to be all right and that they’d be home soon. He looked at the other two men and gave a small shrug.

Harding, who had three children of his own, simply gave him a sympathetic smile and turned to tending the wounds on Éomer’s chest and stomach. Elfhelm looked distinctly uncomfortable by Éowyn’s outburst, but he said nothing to Théodred and offered Harding his help. The healer allowed him to grind up a few herbs for the salves he was making and it was quiet except for the muffled sound of Éowyn’s weeping, although that was fading.

“She’s asleep, lord,” Harding whispered after several minutes had passed. He’d paused in cleaning the last few wounds and gestured at Éowyn. Théodred gazed down at the girl in his arms and was amazed to discover that Harding was right. She was sound asleep, her face now turned so that only her right cheek was pressed against his chest. He shook his head and glanced back at the healer who had a small smile on his lips.

“What?” Théodred asked, scratching at his beard.

“Some children are like that, they fall asleep quickly when their emotions overwhelm them.” He turned back to Éomer. “And, it appears it’s been a very difficult day for her… for you all.”

Théodred shot him a look and snorted softly, mindful of the girl in his arms.

“Why is she… why are they with you?” Elfhelm asked with a curious glance down at Éomer before looking back at Théodred.

“Now is not the time to discuss it,” replied Théodred, frowning as he looked at the injured boy. He seemed very still all of a sudden. “Why is he not moving?” he hissed at Harding.

“The herbs I gave him put him to sleep. There’s no reason to keep him awake – not with the ride we still have ahead of us. He’s going to be all right, lord. He’s going to be in a lot of pain for a good while, but he’s going to be all right.” Harding gave his prince a reassuring smile before turning back to his work.

Théodred nodded his thanks at the healer before turning to Elfhelm. “Did you come across a horse on your way here?” He lowered his voice when Éowyn stirred briefly in his arms.

“A black one wearing a saddle,” Elfhelm replied, nodding. “Yes, and we came across the place where he fell.” He indicated Éomer with a gesture. “It’s why we were coming so swiftly… not that we weren’t anxious to get home,” he added with a grin. “It’s Éomer’s?”

“Éowyn’s. It’s too slow to keep up with Féle so she’s riding Éomer’s horse. She did it well, too,” he said with a proud look in his eye as he glanced down at her. Since both of the children were asleep, Théodred explained the tragic circumstances that had brought them to Edoras. Harding was especially grieved as he’d known Théodwyn when she was young. Théodred was just finishing his explanations as Harding began to clean up his healing supplies, finished with Éomer.

“So, you brought them out for their very first ride with you and… this happened?” asked Elfhelm, shaking his head bemusedly. “How?”

Théodred ruthlessly suppressed the twinge of guilt he felt from appearing on his face. While he knew that it had only been an unfortunate mishap, something that could just as easily have happened to him… that was a worrying thought. How would the children have responded if that had happened? He pushed that thought aside to think on later. No matter that it was an accident, Éomer had still been injured while in his keeping and he did not look forward to explaining it to his father even though he knew Théoden would not hold it against him. But he said none of that to Elfhelm, he simply answered his question.

“Birds flew up and startled Cempa… it all happened so quickly.” The image of Éomer flying through the air flashed through Théodred’s mind and he shuddered. He turned to Harding. “When can we leave? Father will be worried… I told him I’d be home by mid-afternoon.” It was hastening on towards sunset now and he doubted they’d make it home before nightfall. Lying in the foothills of The White Mountains brought darkness quickly to the people of Edoras.

Harding hesitated. While it might be best to keep the injured boy still for a time, there was no doubt that he’d be better off inside than lying out in the damp and cool night air. “We can leave now; I think it’d be best to get him home and warm. He’s deeply asleep and he’ll travel better now than he did earlier with you.”

“Good, then I’ll…” he paused when he realized he couldn’t carry both Éomer and Éowyn in his arms.

“You take Éowyn,” Harding directed as he packed away the last of his supplies. He smiled at the look of surprise on Théodred’s face. “If she wakes up and someone else is holding her, she’d be upset. Éomer is not going to wake up… Elfhelm can take him.” The healer stood and brushed off his breeches.

“I’ll get the men ready and be back for him, lord,” said Elfhelm, returning to his role as captain. He strode quickly away barking out orders to his men who jumped to obey him, anxious to return home.

“Thank you, Harding,” Théodred called after the healer who was walking to his horse to put his supplies away and ready his horse. The man waved a hand in acknowledgement but didn’t look back. Théodred stared down at Éomer and brushed a wisp of hair off the boy’s face. Already it seemed a little less pale. But perhaps that was just his imagination, he thought as he awkwardly struggled to his feet holding Éowyn. She stirred for a moment but settled when he whispered to her.

Glancing around for Féle, Théodred was pleased to see that his horse had not strayed but was standing not far from where he’d left it. A low whistle brought the horse to him and he spoke softly to Féle as he waited for Elfhelm to return. Around him the Riders were mounting and horses were stomping and snorting – as eager to be home as their masters. Elfhelm and Harding returned and the healer held Éowyn while Théodred mounted and then handed her up to him. Harding struggled a bit with Éomer before he was able to get him up to Elfhelm. When the children were both comfortably settled, or as comfortably settled as they could be on the back of a horse, Théodred nodded to Elfhelm and the captain signaled to his men and they set off at a canter.

0-0-0-0-0

Éowyn squirmed restlessly during the ride to Edoras, but Théodred’s softly whispered words kept her asleep until they reached the bottom of the hill upon which the city was built. She started awake, trying to sit up and she looked around wildly, searching for Éomer. But the darkness that had fallen hid him from her eyes and she cried out for him, her voice shaking with fear.

“É-Éomer?”

Féle shook his head and snorted against the noise and Théodred jerked on the reins to settle him even as he spoke to Éowyn.

“Hush, Éowyn. He’s riding with Elfhelm, but he’s asleep now.”

“He’s a-all right?” She looked up at her cousin, her eyes still full of worry and fear. Théodred wondered how long it would take for her to lose that look.

“He’s better, but he’s going to be spending a lot of time in his room for the next few weeks. You’ll have to help him.”

“I can do that.” Éowyn looked around as they slowed to a walk near the entrance to Edoras. “We’re here!” she exclaimed, as if she had just now noticed the city. Perhaps she had, Théodred thought as he urged Féle through the gate and headed straight for Meduseld. As he’d expected, his father was waiting for them. What he had not expected was to see his father pacing back and forth, though he hurried down the steps toward them as soon as they rode into view.

“What happened?” demanded Théoden as soon as he drew close enough to Théodred to be heard without raising his voice. “The men you sent ahead knew nothing except that Éomer had been hurt…”

“Uncle Théoden!” Éowyn tried to wiggle loose from her cousin and with a grunt of surprise at her strength, Théodred let her drop into the arms of his father. She hugged him tightly around the neck and laid her head on his chest, seemingly content just to let him hold her. Théoden rubbed her back and looked up at his son questioningly, but he shrugged and dismounted.

Théodred crossed to where Harding was beginning to ease Éomer down out of Elfhelm’s arms and he took over, not willing that anyone else should carry the boy now that his hands were free. As he trudged up the steps and into the building Théodred heard his father speaking quietly to Éowyn as they followed him. He wondered if he was asking her what had happened… and what she was telling him. Well, he’d know soon enough.

Pausing at the door of Éomer’s room, Théodred’s first impression was that it was crowded. Perhaps crowded wasn’t the right word, he thought as he maneuvered his way into the room, careful not to bang Éomer’s head or feet against the doorframe. But, there did seem to be more people than absolutely necessary: Wynléas standing near the bed looking anxious, several maidservants bustling around, and Fastred – the most experienced healer in the city and the one that attended on Théoden when needed. It was the healer who immediately took charge as Théodred stepped through the doorway.

“All of you out,” he ordered brusquely, gesturing to the women in the room. The servants fled without a word. Wynléas did not move from her place near the foot of Éomer’s bed and she gave Fastred a withering glare.

“I’m not leaving; not until I know that Éomer’s all right.” Fastred only response was a loud humph.

Théodred ignored them as he gently placed his cousin on the bed. Éomer made a noise that was somewhere between a moan and a sigh before falling quiet again.

“What injuries does he have? What’s been done?” asked Fastred as he looked down at the injured boy.

“Well, the broken arm, and…”

“Yes, yes, I can see that,” he snapped impatiently. “What about his head?” Fastred glanced back at Théodred. He frowned at a disturbance at the doorway, but his expression lightened when he saw who had come in. “Harding! Did you tend the boy?” Harding nodded and Fastred beckoned him over. “Come, tell me what you did.”

As the healers began speaking to one another of concussions and infections Théodred stepped back out of the way, leaning against the wall with a weary sigh. He wondered what was keeping his father; he and Éowyn had been close behind him when he’d entered Meduseld. He closed his eyes for a moment, thankful to be home and wondering how a day that had started out so promising had ended like this.

A cry of “Wynléas!” announced the arrival of Éowyn and Théoden. Théodred watched with hooded eyes as the little girl raced from his father to her nursemaid where Éowyn threw her arms around the woman’s waist, hugging her tightly. Wynléas returned the embrace, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Fastred looked up, scowling, and began to hush them, but a tug on his sleeve and a stern look from Harding stopped him. The scowl did not leave his face as Fastred turned back to Éomer, mumbling under his breath.

Fastred’s scowl was so familiar to Théodred that he almost smiled but he became aware of his father approaching and he immediately pushed all thoughts of the healer aside. Turning slightly, he withstood his father’s concerned, compassionate gaze for a moment before looking away. Théodred only looked up again when Théoden rested his hand on his shoulder as he spoke quietly.

“Are you injured?” Théoden gestured to his bloody hands and blood soaked breeches. “Éowyn’s explanations were rather… vague.”

Théodred shook his head as he gazed down past the mostly clean shirt that Elfhelm had given him to his breeches that were stiff now with dried blood. He scrubbed fruitlessly at his blood-stained hands as he answered. “This is all Éomer’s,” he replied, frowning.

Théoden glanced around the room. Fastred and Harding were still tending Éomer, but had slowed from their initial frenzy and were discussing things that would need to be watched for in the next few days. Wynléas was now sitting on the corner of the bed holding Éowyn in her lap. The little girl appeared to be listening to everything the healers were saying but by the way she was yawning Théoden suspected she’d be asleep very soon. He could leave her in Wynléas’s very capable hands, which left only Théodred.

“Go and get cleaned up. I’ll meet you in my study and you can tell me what happened over supper. I imagine you’re hungry… and thirsty.” A slight smile crossed his lips.

“I should stay…”

“Éomer won’t wake until morning from the looks of things and Wynléas has Éowyn well in hand. Go.”

Recognizing the no-nonsense tone of his father, Théodred took one last glance at his cousins before reluctantly leaving the room.

0-0-0

Freshly scrubbed and in clean clothes, Théodred walked resolutely to his father’s study trying to put the events of the day in some sort of order in his mind so that he could more easily explain what had happened. He frowned. Why did he feel like a little boy caught in some mischief? It was an unfortunate mishap he reminded himself again and while his father could be stern and even demanding at times, he was never cruel or unjust and was unlikely to be in such a situation as this.

The door to his father’s study was open and Théodred only hesitated for a moment before entering. To his surprise the room was empty. A table was set near the hearth but no food lay upon it. He took a seat facing the door, drumming his fingers on the smooth, worn wood of the table as he waited for his father to arrive. The murmur of voices in the hall made him straighten up in his chair. A servant walked in carrying a large tray from which wonderful smells emanated that set his stomach rumbling.

Théoden carried two large tankards and a pitcher of beer as he followed the servant into the room. He eyed his son closely as he poured the beer and handed a tankard to his son. Théodred thanked his father with a nod and took a long drink.

“You look better… cleaner at least,” commented Théoden as he sat in the chair opposite his son. Théodred grunted an acknowledgement but did not otherwise respond, simply watching as the servant placed the last of the food on the table before departing with a slight bow toward the king. Filling his plate with roasted chicken, potatoes that had been boiled and then lightly fried with his favorite herbs and onions, and a chunk of fresh bread, Théodred began eating while his father watched him, occasionally taking a drink of his beer. His plate was half empty when Théoden finally spoke.

“Elfhelm told me what happened… what you told him. But he knew only the most basic details and, as I said earlier, Éowyn’s details were rather vague.”

“I’m surprised.” Théodred took another couple of bites of chicken. “I mean I’m surprised she couldn’t tell you in great detail.” He tapped his knife rather absently against the side of his plate for a moment. Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he scowled and dropped the knife on the plate, picking up his tankard instead.

“She’s only seven and she’s very tired,” Théoden reminded his son.

A soft snort came from Théodred. “Yes, only seven.”

“Théodred,” Théoden’s voice became bracing. “Tell me what happened. Is there more to it than Éomer falling from his horse? Did something else happen?”

“What?” Théodred looked at his father in shock. “No, no… isn’t falling from the horse enough?” He turned his gaze back to his tankard as he muttered, “He almost died.”

“Yes, so it appears,” he stated, matter-of-factly. Théoden studied his son, who hadn’t even looked up at the comment. “Did you cause Éomer’s horse to stumble?”

“Of course not! Why are you asking me these things?” Théodred’s eyes flashed briefly with anger.

“Because you seem to be taking far too much responsibility for a boy falling from a horse, Théodred! How many times have you fallen from a horse? I do not know what happened because you have yet to tell me, but you know it is not an uncommon occurrence.”

Théodred leaned back in his chair and sighed deeply. “I… know that, but to watch him… fly through the air and not be able to stop it… was terrifying, father. He just lay there and I thought he was… dead.” He took another long drink of his beer and set down the empty tankard, frowning. Théoden refilled it. “There was a lot of blood and I forgot Éowyn was even there.” The more he spoke the easier it became and his father just listened quietly.

“It wasn’t until she spoke to me that I remembered she was there… she was sitting on Ósle… scared…” Théodred gave his father a small smile. “But brave too… she helped me a lot.” He shook his head and scratched his beard. “I wasn’t sure what to do… I need to learn more healing skills… but just when I got the bleeding stopped he woke up and then he vomited. Which made Éowyn sick.” Théoden smiled, but his son didn’t notice because he was staring into the unlit hearth. “That started the bleeding again…” He stopped and looked at his father. “Do you really want to hear more?”

“Yes.” Théoden knew his son needed to speak of all that had happened, and he needed to hear what had happened. Their late arrival had caused him an enormous amount of anxiety and he’d been about to lead a group of his Riders out when two of Elfhelm’s men had arrived with the news.

Scowling, Théodred finished the tale; explaining how Éowyn had helped him, how she’d ridden Éomer’s horse, how he’d set Éomer’s arm before they started for Edoras, and finally, how Elfhelm’s patrol had come upon them. He sat back, cradling the tankard in his hands as he waited for his father to speak.

“Hmmm,” said Théoden after several long moments had passed. “It appears that Éowyn will need a new horse.”

“What? Why?” Théodred was as confused by his father’s response as Éomer and Éowyn had been by his response to their disobedience earlier in the day.

“Do you really think she’ll be content riding Ósle after riding Cempa so well?” Théodred slowly shook his head and Théoden continued. “Well, perhaps I can hold her off for a time. At least until you get back and you can help her pick a suitable one. Éomer should be ready to ride out to the herds by then and you can take both of them.”

“No, I don’t think…

Théoden interrupted him. “Do you plan on never doing anything with them again because of what happened today?” he asked sharply.

“Of course I will. There are plenty of things to do here.” Théodred frowned as he remembered his promise to take Éomer and Éowyn fishing when he returned from his patrol.

“They’ll have friends here in Edoras, Théodred. That is not what they need from you. You cannot let what happened today stop you from being the… brother they need you to be. You did exactly what was needed after an unfortunate mishap – you got both of them home. Before that happened, did you have a good time at the river?”

Théodred gave his father a small grin and nodded. “Yes, we did… it was an interesting experience for all of us. But,” he put up his hand to ward off his father’s questions, “I promised not to give you any details.”

Théoden laughed. “All right, but one of them may tell me anyway.”

“They are free to do so.” He slumped back in his chair, exhausted but finally at peace.

“You will take Éowyn to get her horse?” Théoden watched his son closely but he simply shrugged.

“If she is persistent, and I know she will be,” he replied, grinning, “then go ahead and take her. I promised I’d take them fishing when I returned.”

“I haven’t been fishing in years,” Théoden said, wistfully. His eyes sparkled as he looked back at his son. “Perhaps I’ll let you take them to find the horse and I’ll take them fishing.”

Théodred tried to remember the last time his father had done anything like that. It had certainly been years, he thought with a frown creasing his brow. A quiet knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Wynléas appeared in the doorway at Théoden’s call to enter.

“Excuse me, lord, but Éowyn refused to go to bed without saying good-night to Théodred.” The little girl peeked out behind her nursemaid looking anxiously between her uncle and cousin.

“I would have thought her asleep by now,” Théoden murmured. He smiled at Éowyn and beckoned her in. “Of course she may come in.” She rushed right by her uncle and straight to Théodred. But instead of launching herself at him as he’d expected, she slowed, stopping beside him and resting her hand on his forearm.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “You were very brave.”

“So were you and you were very helpful and followed my directions well.” Éowyn yawned, followed a moment later by Théodred.

“It appears not only Éowyn should be in bed,” observed Théoden wryly. His son nodded once.

“Come along, Éowyn,” Wynléas called from where she still stood in the doorway.

“Good-night, Théodred.” Now she threw her arms around him as far as she could and hugged him. She turned and did the same to her uncle. “Good-night, Uncle Théoden.” He patted her back and wished her a good night before giving her a gentle nudge toward the door. Théoden smiled and shook his head as Wynléas had to steer Éowyn in the right direction – the girl was nearly asleep on her feet. It was time to put his son to bed as well. He stood and Théodred automatically got to his feet, although much more slowly than usual.

Théoden put an arm around his son’s shoulders and steered him toward the door much as he’d done when Théodred was a boy. “Good-night, Son.”

“Are you not going to bed?” Théodred asked when his father turned in the other direction from where their rooms were.

“No, at least not now. I’m going to check on Éomer and I may stay there for a time, perhaps all night.”

“Should I…”

“No. You should go to bed,” Théoden interrupted him. “He’s going to be fine, but he’ll need to be watched during the night in case he wakes up and I’d rather it be me than Harding or Fastred. He’ll need to see family.”

“I could sit with him later,” Théodred offered.

Théoden shook his head and gave his son a brief smile. “Thank you, but it’s my turn to care for him now. You can see him tomorrow. Go to bed.” There was a pause and with a reluctant nod Théodred turned and walked away.

Continuing on his way to Éomer’s room, Théoden chuckled softly. It appeared that the next few years were going to be far more interesting than he’d realized before Éomer and Éowyn’s arrival. He’d never really considered what influence Théodred might have in their lives, although he should have. Everything had happened so quickly that there had been little time for reflection beforehand. Watching Théodred with the children it was obvious that they’d made some sort of bond already and the events of the day would only strengthen that.

But there was no doubt that it would be challenging for both Théodred and for himself. While he had mostly seen the quieter sides of Éomer and Éowyn – undoubtedly caused by all the upheaval in their lives – he’d seen glimpses of their stronger personalities at times. And Théodred had evidently seen a more adventurous side of them today at the river and Théoden knew that would slowly come forth more and more as the weeks passed. With the two of them in his household he had a feeling that the next ten years would be full of mischief, mishaps, and misunderstandings.

It was a challenge Théoden was looking forward to.

0-0-0

The End

Another Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed this story and a special thank you to everyone who reviewed. I do hope to write other stories in this series, however I have another story that I need to finish first. It’s been calling to me again and I’d like to get it done before starting anything else. There is also an Éomer and Aragorn story I’d like to write and a story about Aragorn as Thorongil and a story about… well, you get the idea!