Chapter Three- The Sheltered One

Pronunciation Guide:

Xanthe (my beautiful little sisters’ name, by the way) (zan-thee )

Ysenia (ya -sen-ia)

Olihre (oh-lee-ray).

Xanthe was slowly gathering her things together, preparing to leave with her family.  Her mother was cleaning out the cooking things; scrubbing each heavy, cast-iron pot with coarse but lightweight rock.  Her strong hands were black and sudsy.  The sleeves on her worn pinafore were rolled up past her elbows, revealing browned skin, weather by age, sun, and doubtless hard work.  She was humming a spirited tune, alternating between soprano and alto parts.  Xanthe looked at her mother.  She thought her to be one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen.  She had long hair, originally light brown, but lightened to a sandy blond from the sun.  It was piled on top of her head in a loose knot, accentuating her high cheekbones and long, graceful neck.  Her smile was broad, lips pressing together ever so slightly. 

Xanthe had inherited many of her mothers’ traits.  She was tall and thin, but not a waif.  Her muscles were well defined, something not generally sought after among the women of Gondor, who preferred a softer, rounder figure.  Her mother had light brown eyes, a trait that Xanthe hadn’t inherited.  She had her fathers’ dark green eyes- sometimes gray, depending on her mood.  Her brother had inherited those eyes as well.  She and her brother both had ash blond hair, one of the few traits that their mother and father had shared.

Ysenia looked at her daughter.  She was holding a pack, midway to stuffing clothing into it.  Her hands were still, and she was staring directly at her, as if in a trance.  “Darling, come back to me.” Ysenia said in a sing-song way with a smile on her face.

Xanthe snapped back to the present, blushing a bit as she looked down and continued putting clothing into her pack.  “Sorry mother.  I was just thinking.”

“About me?” Ysenia said hopefully? 

“Of course!”  Xanthe laughed.  “Who else is there to think about?”

“Hmmm…I suppose there is your brother, and our mules…oh, and let us not forget about our guinea fowl!”

“Yes mum, I was daydreaming about our smelly birds.  Wondering when the time would come when I can eat them!”

“You’re awful,” Ysenia growled playfully, waving a blackened hand in Xanthe’s direction.  “Speaking of awful, do you have any idea why Oli’s been in such a bad mood these past two days?”    

“Oh, you know Olihre!  He just gets that way sometimes.”  Xanthe tried to sound light-hearted, but she too was a bit worried.  She and her brother were very close.  Lately Oli had been very sullen.  Whenever she tried to talk to him he would just mumble and sulk off.  She had tried joking with him to lighten the mood, but he would just look at her with an exasperated expression, and then leave.  She was beginning to be worried greatly by his change.  He was the only one she had to talk to, besides her mother.  In his withdrawn mood he was no joy to be around. 

Xanthe and her mother continued readying their camp for departure.  Olihre had gone to the woods to get fresh water for the last day of their journey.  They had been following the river for almost three weeks now.  Soon, the river would wind its way down to Edoras.  They were going there to seek out work.  Xanthe’s father had been a potter by trade.  He had died over a year ago- as a warrior in one of the skirmishes with Orcs just outside of Gondor.  Xanthe’s mother was also a skilled potter, though women were not allowed to run a business by themselves.  The family was moving to Edoras, hoping for a fresh start in their lives and their business.  Ysenia would make the pottery, and Olihre would run the business.  Xanthe would find work as a healer, as that seemed to be her particular gift.

Olihre trudged back to camp a few hours later, his back laden with a light birch yoke, attached to two water bags, one on each side of him.  He laid the bags down carefully, pouring their contents into several smaller water pouches.  Ysenia and Xanthe watched him cautiously, careful not to be caught staring. 

“Son, why don’t you come eat before we leave?  I can finish with the water and supplies.”

“I’m fine thank you.” Olihre said with an unconvincing smile.  “I ate some berries along the trail.  I’ll finish up here.”

“All right then…if you say so.” Ysenia looked sidelong at him, her worried eyes almost hidden in her profile.  “I am going to go wash my hair in the river before we set off.  I want to look at least somewhat presentable when we arrive in Edoras.”

Ysenia picked up her travel bag and headed off to the river, which could be heard flowing not 100 yards away.

“All right, out with it!”

Olihre knew this was coming.  “Xanthe, really, I am getting tired of your prying!”

“Prying!  I have a right to know what it is that is making you so unpleasant to be around!”

“Maybe there is a reason I have not told you.  Why don’t you trust me?  I am three years your elder, you know!  You would think a twenty-four year old MAN could reserve the right to make his own decisions!”

“Surely, and if you made your decision and then returned to good old Oli then I wouldn’t be prying, but you haven’t.  Something is bothering you Oli!  Just tell me what it is, I can handle it!”  Xanthe knew she was beginning to ramble now.  “Besides, it can’t be that big a deal if I don’t know about it already!”

“Really?” Olihre shot back at her, frustrated with her stubbornness.  “You don’t think being spied on while you bathe is a big deal?”

Xanthe faltered.  Her stomach turned and she felt as though her forehead were about to burst into flames.  “You’re lying,” she said weakly. 

Olihre knew he shouldn’t have presented it to her in such a way.  He walked over and put his arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have told you.  I didn’t want you to worry about it.  I didn’t want it to scare you.”

Xanthe shrugged Olihre’s arm off of her shoulders.  She backed away shaking her head.  “Oli, I would have known if someone were there.  I would have felt it…wouldn’t I?”

“He kept very quiet Xan.” Olihre now seriously regretted having told his sister anything.  He knew Xanthe would let it eat away at her.  She would be paranoid now.  She was already a very anxious girl, and now he had made her even more vulnerable.

“When Oli?  I haven’t bathed since the night we crossed the river.  Was it then?”

“It was.  The night you took your clothes to be washed also.”  Olihre searched for words of comfort.  “Anyway Xan, you always bathe in your slip, so there really wasn’t any harm done, right?”  Even as he said the words he knew they were both untrue and the wrong thing to say to his sister.

Xanthe looked like she had been slapped.  She turned and hunched over, kneeling on the ground, her face buried in her lap.  She was not crying.  She never cried.  She was just trying to wash away the filthy, dirty feeling that she had coating her.  She felt as though she were standing in the middle of a town square, naked and bleeding. 

Olihre knelt down beside her, “Xan, I didn’t mean it that way.  Of course there was harm done.  Why do you think I have been so upset all this time?”

Xanthe didn’t want to hear Olihre anymore.  She wanted him to stop talking and leave her alone.  “Just go away for a while, please.”

“Xan, we are leaving in a few minutes.  Where would you have me go?”

Xanthe turned and glared at Olihre, searching for something to say.  “What were you doing at the river anyway?  I told you I don’t need you to protect me anymore.  I am not a child!”

Olihre was taken aback.  “Obviously you needed someone to protect you!” he said with insistence. 

Xanthe knew he was right.  “What did you do?”

“About what?”

“About the man?” 

“I waited until you left and then I confronted him.”

“And…”

“And he was much more skilled with a sword than I was, Xan.  But I did stand up for you; I even nicked his arm with my sword.”

“Oli!” Xanthe was truly worried now.  She felt guilty at having yelled at her brother, when she knew full well that he was only trying to help.  “How did you escape?”

“If it makes you feel any better, he said that he hadn’t meant to spy.  He said he was going to bathe in the river too, when he stumbled upon you.  Load of rubbish, obviously, but he did let me go.” 

Xanthe raised her eyebrows in surprise.

Olihre read her disbelief.  “Right when those riders came through, Xan.  He must have thought that they were with us.”

“What was he like Oli?  Is he from around here?”

Olihre knew very well where he was from.  He was the King of the Mark.  Eomer, the brave and beloved captain of Rohan’s armies, now king.  But somehow, despite his intense hatred of this man, he did not want to tell his sister it was he.  He did not want to give a face to the fear that he knew his sister would feel for a long time to come.  “He was just a peasant.  Probably from a farm around here.”

“A peasant who could best my brother in a swordfight?  That is truly strange.”  The comment was not incredulous, only factual.  Olihre was one of the best swordsmen in Gondor.  He had won fame among those his own age for being the champion of nearly every mach he was ever challenged to.

Olihre looked up and saw his mother returning from the river, her hair wrapped up in an old cloth.  “Listen Xan, do what you will, but I think it would be best if you didn’t tell Mum about this.  You have me to talk to; I don’t think you should worry her.”

“I agree.  She would only forbid me any semblance of freedom I may find in Edoras.”  With that, Xanthe hugged her brother.  “Thank you for telling me.  It is good to know that you have been looking after me, although irksome that I should have any need of being looked after.  Now cheer up will you?  I need you to be happy again.  Please?”

Xanthe looked desperate.  Olihre sighed.  “Sure Xan.  I am always here for you.”  He meant this.  He would keep a close eye on his sister now that they would be in Edoras.  He doubted that they would run into the King, but one never knew.