Metamorphosis

“Théodred?”

The King’s heir looked up from where he washed his hands.  Éomer stood before him – his jaw was clenched as it almost always was.  Théodred sighed, “What is it Éomer?”

His cousin looked at the ground, scuffing it with his feet, and said, “It’s Éowyn.  She won’t come out of her room.” 

Théodred stretched the kinks out of his shoulders and neck, and then looked at his cousin, “All right Éomer, I’m coming.  Just a second.”  He walked over to the stall, where Helm stood looking at the foal. 

“She’s a beauty isn’t she?”

“Aye, and the first of the spring foals.  This bodes well for the year ahead.  Take care of them for the moment I am gone Helm?”

The man nodded, his eyes drinking in the sight of the young foal.  Helm was devoted to the horses of their house, he had spent every spare moment breeding them.  He was a mountain of a man with hair like straw and voice that sounded like a far off rock-slide.  It only softened when he was speaking with the temperamental mares and foals, or when he explained the craft of horse breeding to some youngling.  He had never married and seemed to enjoy the times when he could teach – especially Éomer.  He was certain that Éomer could become the greatest of the Rohirrim if taught properly.

Théodred didn’t disagree, but he thought that his cousin needed a little more training in the fine arts of keeping his temper and not jumping to conclusions before he could be set against the world.  No one doubted his talent for the fighting arts – but Théodred was convinced that Éomer was not yet enough grown to be a Rider.  He and Helm (who was his second in command as well as Rohan’s finest horse-breeder) had clashed over Éomer many times already – Helm wanted him in Théodred’s éored if possible, if not he wanted Éomer fighting.

Théodred was convinced however that Éomer had been forced to grow up fast enough already – he would not push him to grow anymore.  For now the decision was his to make, but Éomer was swift and strong, and soon he would be a Rider whether Théodred liked it or not.  They had reached Éowyn’s door, and her brother knocked on it softly, “Éowyn?”

“I told you to go away Éomer!”

“Please Éowyn let me in!  We’ve to go to our uncle in an hour!”

“I don’t care!”

She sounded like she was crying, and Théodred wondered what on earth was the matter.  She had seemed fine last night, although now that he thought of it, she had been a little scattered.  He took his turn and knocked, “Éowyn, it’s Théodred.  What’s the matter?”

“I can’t tell you.  Now go away.”

Théodred looked at the door, stumped.  Footsteps approached and he turned to see Gríma son of Gamlod.  He didn’t know the man particularly well, but he had pulled off a masterstroke in trade negotiations with Lossarnach the year before, and though no Rider, was universally agreed to be a man of intelligence.  He was pale and thin and dark – a riding accident years before had twisted him so that one shoulder was higher than the other, and he stooped a little as a result.  He bowed slightly to Théodred, and nodded at Éomer and said in his quiet way, “I have heard that the King’s niece has barricaded herself in her room, and I thought my Lord, that I might suggest that perhaps this is a problem that none of her kinsmen can cure?”

“What?”, Éomer sounded irritated, but Théodred thought that perhaps he understood.  Gríma paused and said, “How old is your sister my lord Éomer?”  Éomer paused and looked at the door, “She has nearly thirteen summers..”  His voice trailed off, and he stared at the door in contemplation.  Théodred set off down the corridor, and heard Éomer say, “Where are you going?”

“To find the solution to this problem.”

Elfara was a leather worker by trade, and she had been hard at work carving twists into a saddle when Théodred arrived in the back of her workshop.  He had grabbed her wrist and asked her to follow him.  Apparently something was wrong with his cousin, something only a woman could deal with.  She wanted to blast him for treating her like this, but she had finally accepted that she could refuse him nothing.

When she finally got into the young one’s room she had been surprised – it was not nearly so luxurious as she had expected.  The furnishings were better than hers, and certainly the blankets were, but on the whole the room was small and rather dark. The girl obviously noticed her surprise for she said, “It’s near Éomer’s room.”

“What is?”

“This room.  There were others when we came here, but this is the only room near his, so..”  She looked at Elfara a little nervously, “Are you Théodred’s friend?”

The older woman couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes child, friend is a good word for it.  I know no better.”  Éowyn blushed, “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to be rude.”  Elfara sat on the bed beside her and said, “I’m sorry child.  Now what was it that meant you had to see me?”

The golden haired child turned large frightened eyes on her and said, “I think I’m dying!”  Elfara put an arm around Éowyn’s narrow shoulders and said, “Why is that?”

“I’m bleeding.  I woke up this morning and there was blood everywhere and I can’t make it stop.”  She sounded desperate and Elfara swallowed the laugh that bubbled inside, “You poor child.  Did no one ever tell you of a woman’s monthly cycle?”

Éowyn looked at her, “What do you mean?  Is this common?”

“Aye child it’s common.  It happens to each of us every month, until we’re old.  It’s nothing to fear – it comes when you’re able to have a child.”  The girl looked like she was about to cry, and Elfara held her tight around the shoulders, “It’s all right child, it’s all right.”  She couldn’t help but pity the poor motherless mite – surrounded by men, no one had ever thought to tell her the most basic of things.

She stood up and said, “Now I think we should tell your cousin and brother the good news.”  Éowyn looked at her surprised, “Why do they have to know?”

“You’re a woman now Éowyn, they’ll want to celebrate it.”

The little girl’s mouth made an ‘O’ of surprise and she walked calmly enough towards the door.  As Elfara ushered her out her brother grabbed her arm and said, “Why did you stay in there so long?”

The girl looked confused and said, “I..”, but Elfara interrupted “Lord Éomer think shame to yourself!  Your sister is a woman now, and doesn’t deserve such rough treatment!  I thought you knew better.”  The overgrown lad had the grace to blush and hang his head, and Elfara saw the two older men share a glance, possibly of humour.  Théodred bent his head to his cousin and said, “Is that so cousin?”

Éowyn nodded, her face crimson, and Théodred laughed and squeezed her shoulder – “Well then cousin it is time for your training to begin.”  She looked at him astonished and said, “Training?  For what?”

“You are to be a Shieldmaiden Éowyn”

“Like Morwen Steelsheen?”

“Aye like Steelsheen, though I suspect you’ll be a little smaller.  Now come with me – we must tell my father, but first I want you to meet the new foal.  You’ll have to train her, and name her, you know”

“Really!  Anything I want?”

Théodred was leading his cousin away, but she turned suddenly and said, “Thank you..” and Elfara supplied the name.  Éowyn blushed and said, “I wonder, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could I visit you sometimes, and talk?  I wouldn’t get in the way.”  She was so small and obviously bereft of a mother that Elfara couldn’t help but say, “Of course my lady”.  The girl grinned at her and suddenly bounded forward to hug the older woman around the ribs, “Thank you Elfara!”

Elfara couldn’t resist the urge to tousle the girl’s hair, and said, “Of course lady.  Ask Théodred where to find me, he knows.  Now I must be going.  I shall see you again soon.”

Théodred smiled as Éowyn cooed at the new foal.  She had named her Windfola and it had been almost impossible to drag her away from the horse’s side all day.  His uncle had been delighted when he heard the news, and had made much of Éowyn all day long – promising to teach her how to ride Windfola himself.  Until then the girl had only ridden ponies, and learning to ride an unbroken mare (once she was grown) would be difficult.  Éowyn’s golden hair hung down into the stall, and she was smiling broadly – Éomer had been given a day off in honour of the event, and had spent most of it teasing his sister.  Her reach had to be measured for her sword and he had disrupted the proceedings appallingly – making her laugh every two seconds.

She was glowing, and it was only when his uncle called her away that she could be persuaded to move from the stables.  She and Éomer sat beside him that night, impressing their uncle with their gaiety.  Éowyn was still small and skinny, with long golden hair and a childish face, but she was a woman now.  Soon she would be fully grown.  The thought astonished him, and Théodred could see from his face, it astonished his father as well.  How had the years since she had come to Edoras passed so quickly?

Author's Note

The onset of sexual maturity, i.e. menstruation, in the Middle Ages made a woman an adult.  Obviously for noblewomen that not necessarily mean that marraige was imminent, but now that she is adult Éowyn starts to learn her adult duties - and her training as a Shieldmaiden begins.