Little Shieldmaiden
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. That masterpiece belongs to New Line Cinema and, of course, JRR Tolkien. I do own a muse named Pippin, he is up for sale. Please get rid of him for me!!
'Aragorn's Lullaby' is actually Phil Collins' Come With Me
Come with me, close you eyes
Hold my hand, it'll be all right
Don't be scared, don't be shy
Lift your head, it'll be all right
Chapter 1- Orphans
"Daddy!" wailed the lithe seven year old girl. "Please daddy, do not go! Don't go again!"
Èomund laughed loudly and swept his precious daughter Èowyn up into his saddle. "Would you come with me, my little shieldmaiden?" he asked jovially. "Would you come all the way to the Emyn Muil and fight huge monsters?"
"Yes, yes!" chanted Èowyn happily flapping the stallion's reins. "I will fight now!"
"You will fight one day," promised Èomund. "When you are eighteen years of age and properly trained, you will ride with the Rohirrim, I promise you my daughter."
"Father, father!" cried Èomund's other child, Èomer, a fair boy of eleven. "May I go to war too?"
"When you are older, you will both come with me," granted Èomer.
"But, I will get to go first," bragged Èomer. "'Cause I am older than you Èowyn."
"No you shan't!" argued Èowyn.
"Yes I shall!" Èomer presisted.
"Shan't!"
"Shall!"
"I'm the one on the horse, idiot!" snapped Èowyn, grey eyes glowing angrily.
"Now, now," smiled the children's fair mother, Théodwyn, coming from the house. "What is all this about going to war?"
Èomund swung down from the stallion and Èowyn leapt down into his waiting arms. He placed her beside Èomer. Still angry, Èomer crossed his arms and turned away. Èowyn stuck her tongue out at him. Théodwyn lighty swatted the rebellious, yet much beloved girl's head. "My little shieldmaiden and Rider wish to fight before they are grown," smiled Èomund. "Mark my words, my love, we shall have two grand warriors in this family!"
"I do not doubt it," laughed Théodwyn.
A Rider came galloping up the hill to their large home. "Come uncle!" laughed the Rider. "Say your farewells, we go to battle! I left the Rohirrim down in the valley, but all our impatient!"
"I will come shortly, Théodred," promised Èomund.
"Good day, aunt," greeted Théodred. "How do ye fare?"
"Well enough," she answered. "And you, newphew-dear?"
"I shall be far better when I ride to hunt accursed Orc!" announced Théodred, with a meaningful glance at Èomund. "Hurry yourself uncle! Yah!" The excitable man galloped back down the road on which he had come.
"I will be back as soon as I can," Èomund promised, holding his wife's hands.
"I know," smiled Théodwyn sadly. "Though it does not make parting any more the easier to bear. Farewell, my husband!"
Husband and wife drew close and kissed. "Yech!" spat Èomer. "They're kissing!"
"Eww," giggled Èowyn. The couple parted, smiling unabashed at their beloved children. Èomund swept Èowyn up and kissed her forehead.
"Be good, little shieldmaiden," he teased. "And try not to kill too many Orcs. The poor things never stand half a chance against you!"
"I know," smirked Èowyn when her feet touched the ground once more.
"Take care of your mother and sister, boy," said Èomund, ruffling Èomer's hair.
"I will," promised Èomer, clasping Èowyn's hand.
Èomund leapt on to his horse and flicked the reins. "Yah!" he shouted. The horse leapt into a gallop. Laughing Èowyn and Èomer ran after the horse. At the edge of hill on which their house stood, they stopped. They stood waving and smiling through their tears as the group of the Rohirrim galloped into the distance. They watched until the last glint of sunlight on spear or helm had faded away. Then they turned back to their play, not knowing that they had seen their father alive for the last time.
~*~
Two long weeks passed, full of play. Occasionally, Théodwyn would pause in her children's games and look towards the Emyn Muil as though something troubled her. But always Èowyn or Èomer would tug at her sleeve and she would laugh lightly and the game would begin once more. Their father's absence did not affect Èomer and Èowyn over much. After all, Èomund was one of the chief Marshalls of the Mark and often away leading the Rohirrim on one hunting party or another. All that truly mattered to them was that winter was coming on and their outdoor play would soon be stunted for three months. This did not stop them from keeping a sharp watch nearer the end of the two weeks.
However, no word or sign of the Rohirrim ever came, not until a stormy night when the party was almost a week overdue. Théodwyn had taken to neglecting her children and going riding far a field, waiting for her beloved Èomund to return to her. The people of the house loved Èowyn and Èomund as their own children, so the little ones still had many more than willing playmates.
That day, Théodwyn did not go out. As her maid dressed her, she stared at herself in the looking glass. Her grey eyes were dull and her long blonde hair hung limp. She was very frail and if what her maid suspected was true, her beloved mistress might die of a broken heart. Théodwyn shook her head when Heilda brought forth a creamy blue frock. "Garb me in black Heilda," she said, voice devoid of emotion. "I can no longer fool myself. He is not coming back."
"That is not true ma'am," soothed Heilda. "We must have hope!"
"What hope have I?" demanded Théodwyn. "None, none at all. Do not speak to me of hope- just get out! Get out you witless girl!" In a fey mood, she threw a priceless vase at Heilda. The poor girl shrieked and fled as the vase shattered in a hundred pieces.
"Èomund!" wailed Thédowyn. "Èomund!" She flung herself on her bed and wept.
~*~
Late that night, Èowyn lay wide awake, listening to the torrents of rain outside her window. Words of one of the servant girls rang in her head. 'Miss Théodwyn has realized it now, that the master won't be returning!' Heilda had declared. 'I don't envy the one who has to tell the children- such lively things they are! They were very fond of their father- it will break their dear hearts!'
"Stupid fat Heilda," whispered Èowyn to the darkness of her bower. "What do you know of us or what will break our hearts? You don't know anything- you are a cruel stupid idiot!" Yet her words had brought tears to Èowyns's eyes. After gaining her composure, she had gone and told her brother. Èomer had scorned Heilda's words. 'Don't go believing her Èowyn,' he had laughed. 'Everyone knows father's too strong to get himself killed.'
Despite her brother's calm, the words haunted Èowyn and sleep would not come. Suppose father really was dead? In the bed beside her own, Èomer slept soundly. She sighed. Would she be awake all night? Suddenly, her sharp ears picked up the sound of hooves on cobblestone. Father must have returned after all! She leapt on to her brother. "Èomer! Èomer!" she cried. "Father's come back!"
Joyfully, the children dashed ot the front door. Théodwyn was standing there, talking to a man out in the storm. "Where is he Théodred?" she demanded. "Where is my husband?"
"Théodwyn, I- I am truly sorry," faltered Théodred. "We- we were attacked and..."
"No!" wailed Théodwyn, realising her worst dreams had come true and her husband was dead. She pushed past her nephew and fell to her knees by the pallet on which Èomund had been borne home on. She clutched at his cold hands and kissed his fair, dead face. "Èomund, Èomund, please wake up!" she begged. "Do not leave me alone!"
"He will not awake," Théodred said firmly, placing a calming hand on his aunt's shaking shoulder. "Do not weep for him. He was a soldier. He knew he would die. You must carry on. You have the children to care for."
"I shall care for them for a short time," Théodwyn said dully. "Yet I will die now. Without him my life is meaningless."
Èomer and Èowyn clung to each other desperately, weeping for their loss. "Father, father," whispered Èowyn, almost soundlessly until she fell into a restless sleep. Soberly, Théodred carried her up to her bed, a weary and grieved Èomer following in his wake. Théodwyn remained outside, weeping by her husband's side.
~*~
It was only a few short weeks before Théodwyn collapsed. In her days of mourning, she slept little and ate less. Théodred remained in her home, sending the Rohirrim home with a message explaining what had occured to his father, King Théoden.
The fateful day, could have been the day that Théodwyn put her grieved life back into motion. She rose early and dressed. Knowing she had neglected her children, she prepared to visit them. Half way to the nursery though, her world spun crazily. To the exclaimations of nearby servants, she fell to the ground. They bore her back to her rooms and summoned Théodred. He took one quick searching look at his aunt and bitterly realized she was quickly letting go of life. "Bring her children to her," ordered Théodred. "They should have a chance to say goodbye."
The maid left, wiping tears away and Théodred was left alone with Théodwyn. "Théodered," she called hoarsely.
"Yes?" he questioned, going to her bedside. "Is anything wrong?"
"I am dying, am I not?" she said drily. "I would suspect one would consider that wrong. But, it is the children, Théodred, the children. I have failed as a mother."
"No Théodwyn," argued Théodred. "You were a very good mother to the children. They could not ask for better."
"I am abandoning them here, without a father or mother," she wept. "What mother does that to her enfants? They are so very young."
"Éomer and Éowyn will be taken care of," Théodred promised. "They will return with me to Edoras. They will not be put out on the street."
"Thank you," said Théodwyn softly. She closed her eyes and if not for the small movement of her chest, Théodred would have thought she had already passed on.
Èowyn and Èomer were roused and brought to their mother. "Mama?" frowned Èomer. "What is happening?"
"I am going away my dears," Théodwyn replied weakly.
"I don't want you to go mama," Èowyn cried through her tears, not fully comprehending, but knowing something horrible was going to happen.
"Oh my precious child," smiled Théodwyn sadly. "I'll never truly go away. Everytime the sun rises I'll be standing right beside you and I will always be in your hearts. Now go to Edoras and live with your uncle Théoden. Always be good children and no matter how dark the sky is, keep your hopes and follow your hearts."
And with these last wise words, Théodwyn passed out of life.
~*~
A few days later, the household emptied, all garbed in black, bearing the bodies of their master and mistress. Èowyn and Èomer rode together in silence on a white pony beside their cousin at the head of the column. "Where are we going?" Èowyn asked, after almost three hours of riding in silence.
"Look!" Théodred cried, momentarily freed of his grief at the sight of his home. They were drawing near to Edoras.
The city of Edoras was built upon a large hill and above the city, the crown of the hill was Meduseld, the Golden Hall. Normally, the flags would have flapped merily in the high winds that were a part of daily life in Edoras. But today the flags flew at halfmast, mourning the death of the King's kin.
"Welcome my dear cousins!" cried Théodred with a gleam in his eyes. "Welcome to Edoras!"
Author's End Note: Sheesh, what is it with the Rohirrim having similar names in the family. I mean there is Théodwyn, Théodred and Théoden and then Éomund, Éowyn and Éomer! Ai! It is a writer's bane. Okay, I'm finished now. I hope you enjoyed my story! Please read and review!
~Elbereth94
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. That masterpiece belongs to New Line Cinema and, of course, JRR Tolkien. I do own a muse named Pippin, he is up for sale. Please get rid of him for me!!
'Aragorn's Lullaby' is actually Phil Collins' Come With Me
Come with me, close you eyes
Hold my hand, it'll be all right
Don't be scared, don't be shy
Lift your head, it'll be all right
Chapter 1- Orphans
"Daddy!" wailed the lithe seven year old girl. "Please daddy, do not go! Don't go again!"
Èomund laughed loudly and swept his precious daughter Èowyn up into his saddle. "Would you come with me, my little shieldmaiden?" he asked jovially. "Would you come all the way to the Emyn Muil and fight huge monsters?"
"Yes, yes!" chanted Èowyn happily flapping the stallion's reins. "I will fight now!"
"You will fight one day," promised Èomund. "When you are eighteen years of age and properly trained, you will ride with the Rohirrim, I promise you my daughter."
"Father, father!" cried Èomund's other child, Èomer, a fair boy of eleven. "May I go to war too?"
"When you are older, you will both come with me," granted Èomer.
"But, I will get to go first," bragged Èomer. "'Cause I am older than you Èowyn."
"No you shan't!" argued Èowyn.
"Yes I shall!" Èomer presisted.
"Shan't!"
"Shall!"
"I'm the one on the horse, idiot!" snapped Èowyn, grey eyes glowing angrily.
"Now, now," smiled the children's fair mother, Théodwyn, coming from the house. "What is all this about going to war?"
Èomund swung down from the stallion and Èowyn leapt down into his waiting arms. He placed her beside Èomer. Still angry, Èomer crossed his arms and turned away. Èowyn stuck her tongue out at him. Théodwyn lighty swatted the rebellious, yet much beloved girl's head. "My little shieldmaiden and Rider wish to fight before they are grown," smiled Èomund. "Mark my words, my love, we shall have two grand warriors in this family!"
"I do not doubt it," laughed Théodwyn.
A Rider came galloping up the hill to their large home. "Come uncle!" laughed the Rider. "Say your farewells, we go to battle! I left the Rohirrim down in the valley, but all our impatient!"
"I will come shortly, Théodred," promised Èomund.
"Good day, aunt," greeted Théodred. "How do ye fare?"
"Well enough," she answered. "And you, newphew-dear?"
"I shall be far better when I ride to hunt accursed Orc!" announced Théodred, with a meaningful glance at Èomund. "Hurry yourself uncle! Yah!" The excitable man galloped back down the road on which he had come.
"I will be back as soon as I can," Èomund promised, holding his wife's hands.
"I know," smiled Théodwyn sadly. "Though it does not make parting any more the easier to bear. Farewell, my husband!"
Husband and wife drew close and kissed. "Yech!" spat Èomer. "They're kissing!"
"Eww," giggled Èowyn. The couple parted, smiling unabashed at their beloved children. Èomund swept Èowyn up and kissed her forehead.
"Be good, little shieldmaiden," he teased. "And try not to kill too many Orcs. The poor things never stand half a chance against you!"
"I know," smirked Èowyn when her feet touched the ground once more.
"Take care of your mother and sister, boy," said Èomund, ruffling Èomer's hair.
"I will," promised Èomer, clasping Èowyn's hand.
Èomund leapt on to his horse and flicked the reins. "Yah!" he shouted. The horse leapt into a gallop. Laughing Èowyn and Èomer ran after the horse. At the edge of hill on which their house stood, they stopped. They stood waving and smiling through their tears as the group of the Rohirrim galloped into the distance. They watched until the last glint of sunlight on spear or helm had faded away. Then they turned back to their play, not knowing that they had seen their father alive for the last time.
~*~
Two long weeks passed, full of play. Occasionally, Théodwyn would pause in her children's games and look towards the Emyn Muil as though something troubled her. But always Èowyn or Èomer would tug at her sleeve and she would laugh lightly and the game would begin once more. Their father's absence did not affect Èomer and Èowyn over much. After all, Èomund was one of the chief Marshalls of the Mark and often away leading the Rohirrim on one hunting party or another. All that truly mattered to them was that winter was coming on and their outdoor play would soon be stunted for three months. This did not stop them from keeping a sharp watch nearer the end of the two weeks.
However, no word or sign of the Rohirrim ever came, not until a stormy night when the party was almost a week overdue. Théodwyn had taken to neglecting her children and going riding far a field, waiting for her beloved Èomund to return to her. The people of the house loved Èowyn and Èomund as their own children, so the little ones still had many more than willing playmates.
That day, Théodwyn did not go out. As her maid dressed her, she stared at herself in the looking glass. Her grey eyes were dull and her long blonde hair hung limp. She was very frail and if what her maid suspected was true, her beloved mistress might die of a broken heart. Théodwyn shook her head when Heilda brought forth a creamy blue frock. "Garb me in black Heilda," she said, voice devoid of emotion. "I can no longer fool myself. He is not coming back."
"That is not true ma'am," soothed Heilda. "We must have hope!"
"What hope have I?" demanded Théodwyn. "None, none at all. Do not speak to me of hope- just get out! Get out you witless girl!" In a fey mood, she threw a priceless vase at Heilda. The poor girl shrieked and fled as the vase shattered in a hundred pieces.
"Èomund!" wailed Thédowyn. "Èomund!" She flung herself on her bed and wept.
~*~
Late that night, Èowyn lay wide awake, listening to the torrents of rain outside her window. Words of one of the servant girls rang in her head. 'Miss Théodwyn has realized it now, that the master won't be returning!' Heilda had declared. 'I don't envy the one who has to tell the children- such lively things they are! They were very fond of their father- it will break their dear hearts!'
"Stupid fat Heilda," whispered Èowyn to the darkness of her bower. "What do you know of us or what will break our hearts? You don't know anything- you are a cruel stupid idiot!" Yet her words had brought tears to Èowyns's eyes. After gaining her composure, she had gone and told her brother. Èomer had scorned Heilda's words. 'Don't go believing her Èowyn,' he had laughed. 'Everyone knows father's too strong to get himself killed.'
Despite her brother's calm, the words haunted Èowyn and sleep would not come. Suppose father really was dead? In the bed beside her own, Èomer slept soundly. She sighed. Would she be awake all night? Suddenly, her sharp ears picked up the sound of hooves on cobblestone. Father must have returned after all! She leapt on to her brother. "Èomer! Èomer!" she cried. "Father's come back!"
Joyfully, the children dashed ot the front door. Théodwyn was standing there, talking to a man out in the storm. "Where is he Théodred?" she demanded. "Where is my husband?"
"Théodwyn, I- I am truly sorry," faltered Théodred. "We- we were attacked and..."
"No!" wailed Théodwyn, realising her worst dreams had come true and her husband was dead. She pushed past her nephew and fell to her knees by the pallet on which Èomund had been borne home on. She clutched at his cold hands and kissed his fair, dead face. "Èomund, Èomund, please wake up!" she begged. "Do not leave me alone!"
"He will not awake," Théodred said firmly, placing a calming hand on his aunt's shaking shoulder. "Do not weep for him. He was a soldier. He knew he would die. You must carry on. You have the children to care for."
"I shall care for them for a short time," Théodwyn said dully. "Yet I will die now. Without him my life is meaningless."
Èomer and Èowyn clung to each other desperately, weeping for their loss. "Father, father," whispered Èowyn, almost soundlessly until she fell into a restless sleep. Soberly, Théodred carried her up to her bed, a weary and grieved Èomer following in his wake. Théodwyn remained outside, weeping by her husband's side.
~*~
It was only a few short weeks before Théodwyn collapsed. In her days of mourning, she slept little and ate less. Théodred remained in her home, sending the Rohirrim home with a message explaining what had occured to his father, King Théoden.
The fateful day, could have been the day that Théodwyn put her grieved life back into motion. She rose early and dressed. Knowing she had neglected her children, she prepared to visit them. Half way to the nursery though, her world spun crazily. To the exclaimations of nearby servants, she fell to the ground. They bore her back to her rooms and summoned Théodred. He took one quick searching look at his aunt and bitterly realized she was quickly letting go of life. "Bring her children to her," ordered Théodred. "They should have a chance to say goodbye."
The maid left, wiping tears away and Théodred was left alone with Théodwyn. "Théodered," she called hoarsely.
"Yes?" he questioned, going to her bedside. "Is anything wrong?"
"I am dying, am I not?" she said drily. "I would suspect one would consider that wrong. But, it is the children, Théodred, the children. I have failed as a mother."
"No Théodwyn," argued Théodred. "You were a very good mother to the children. They could not ask for better."
"I am abandoning them here, without a father or mother," she wept. "What mother does that to her enfants? They are so very young."
"Éomer and Éowyn will be taken care of," Théodred promised. "They will return with me to Edoras. They will not be put out on the street."
"Thank you," said Théodwyn softly. She closed her eyes and if not for the small movement of her chest, Théodred would have thought she had already passed on.
Èowyn and Èomer were roused and brought to their mother. "Mama?" frowned Èomer. "What is happening?"
"I am going away my dears," Théodwyn replied weakly.
"I don't want you to go mama," Èowyn cried through her tears, not fully comprehending, but knowing something horrible was going to happen.
"Oh my precious child," smiled Théodwyn sadly. "I'll never truly go away. Everytime the sun rises I'll be standing right beside you and I will always be in your hearts. Now go to Edoras and live with your uncle Théoden. Always be good children and no matter how dark the sky is, keep your hopes and follow your hearts."
And with these last wise words, Théodwyn passed out of life.
~*~
A few days later, the household emptied, all garbed in black, bearing the bodies of their master and mistress. Èowyn and Èomer rode together in silence on a white pony beside their cousin at the head of the column. "Where are we going?" Èowyn asked, after almost three hours of riding in silence.
"Look!" Théodred cried, momentarily freed of his grief at the sight of his home. They were drawing near to Edoras.
The city of Edoras was built upon a large hill and above the city, the crown of the hill was Meduseld, the Golden Hall. Normally, the flags would have flapped merily in the high winds that were a part of daily life in Edoras. But today the flags flew at halfmast, mourning the death of the King's kin.
"Welcome my dear cousins!" cried Théodred with a gleam in his eyes. "Welcome to Edoras!"
Author's End Note: Sheesh, what is it with the Rohirrim having similar names in the family. I mean there is Théodwyn, Théodred and Théoden and then Éomund, Éowyn and Éomer! Ai! It is a writer's bane. Okay, I'm finished now. I hope you enjoyed my story! Please read and review!
~Elbereth94