Orcs and Babes.

Theodwyn held her sleeping son close, lightly brushing his long hair from his face. His tears had worn him out and she cherished holding him thus. Since Eowyn’s birth the small frowns and scowls from her eldest had not gone unoticed, especially whenever she was attending the babe. She had spoken of her concerns to her ladies, most of whom were older and had all gone through similar experiences. She was told not to fret as it was normal for older siblings to feel anxious and un-loved when a new babe was added to the family unit. ‘Patience my Lady’ they had said,’ Eomer will find his own level and come to love and care for her in his own time.’

She had accepted this and not caused any fuss with her young son whenever she was tending Eowyn, trying also to make herself as accessible as normal for whenever he needed her, today being one of those days, the lady thought grimly. She knew he had to be spoken to and punished upon leaving the safety of their home and would be glad when this was over. Eomer must needs to be aware of his wrong doings, his very safety, living in such tenuous times was paramount. She knew her husband wouldst not strike their son, such physical abuse was beyond him, but lessons would need to be learned. Her husband was stern but not cruel, and he expected a high standard of behaviour both in his home and within his Eored. Eomund had much respect and admiration throughout the East Mark, all looked to and loved their Marshal for the unconditional protection that he gave to the people dwelling in that area of Rohan. Because of this, the rider’s loyalty to their Lord was total and feely given in return.

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Framhelm walked by his Marshal as he escorted him to the gates of his holding, both wore grim expressions as to the events of the deed done this day.

“I wouldst thank you, Lord, methinks my sons will feel this punishment more keenly than any chastisement that I could have given,” he stated.

Eomund nodded, “Aye, both will want to redeem themselves, both in my eyes and with the rest of the Eored. When they have proved their worth they will be reinstated as riders, a little menial work would not come amiss. The lesson will be duly learnt, and knowing how others take the news woudst cut more deep than any knife wound.”

Framhelm laughed grimly, “Lord, you have been most fair in this, and not without your own young one suffering as result. I wouldst apologize, for I think I rather startled him this day.”

“Accepted, Framhelm,” Eomund smiled back, “I myself will speak to him on the morrow, and even now is being comforted by his mother I deem.”

“As are mine own I wouldst think, while I am out of the house and earshot.” Framhelm added to the laughter of both men.

“One thing I will admit to and admire though it pains me to say, Framhelm?”

“My Lord?”

“Their ingenuity, friend, hiding such a malodourous object, in a concealed box under a camouflage of manure and straw, ‘tis no wonder that you suspected not, all trace being obscured thus. Although I wouldst not admit this face to face, you understand.” Eomund finished, slapping Framhelm across the shoulder.

Both men clasped arms and bade each other a good evening ere they both departed to their respective homes.

As Framhelm entered his home again all were sat round the table waiting to sup. He spoke not and moved to wash his hands in the bowl of warm water held by his oldest daughter, Framwyn. He smiled and caressed her cheek ere the family sat together. All eyes followed as he sat, “ I wouldst wish this day forgotten and spoken no more about. Your punishment I hope you deem not too harsh, I support Lord Eomund on all fronts. Work hard, and your place in the Eored will be assured, but only if you have learnt from this… I trust you have?”

“Yes, father,” muttered Darthmund and Freamer. They were both still cowed by the loud angry tirade of their Marshal, but realised the futility of any protestations. To lose their positions in the Eored was the worse thing that could have happened and both felt it keenly.

“And Mathelm, a few weeks helping your mother will soon cool your heels, I myself will inform as to when you have redeemed yourself. I trust you are agreeable to this?” Framhelm looked upon his youngest with a small smile, encouraging Mathelm to dash over for an embrace from his father. “Sorry, Papa,” he whispered, “ I will work hard, I promise.”

“That is all I would ask of you my son,” he stroked his son’s head, and stared at the older two,” That is all I would ask of you all. This day I have be quite ashamed of my son’s.”

Darthmund and Freamer, both rose and walked to the side of their father and knelt before him to beg forgiveness, of which was given.

“Well, wife,” he went on, “Let’s to dine then, my belly is calling for food!”

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Eomund walked down through the town heading slowly to his own house and meal, he would keep an eye on Framhelm’s two sons. Both were grown men and were hailed as fine warriors for their age. That they would eventually rejoin the Eored, he had no doubts, but not yet awhile, not until he was sure of their contrition. It was with these thoughts that he walked into his halls, making his way to his private chambers to wash and change ere the evening meal.

Theodwyn was awaiting him, an earnest expression in her eyes.

“What is this look for, wife,” he asked amused.

“ I but worry for the morn when you do speak to our son,”

Eomund walked over and wrapped his arms round his wife’s waist and they embraced, “I shall not be too harsh on him, beloved, I would but only speak so he understands his wrong doings.”

“I know, but…”

“You are his Mama, and would protect him from all, including his sire, am I right,” he kissed her lightly.

“Oh, you are right, I know I am over protective.”

“ ‘Tis only nature,” he whispered, covering her neck with gentle kisses, “Where is Eomer, by the by, and my daughter?” he added between kisses.

Theodwyn sighed, “Both abed, and hope I do they shall both remain so for the rest of the evening,” she raised her lips to Eomund for a deeper and more passionate kiss.

“As do I wife,” Eomund murmered, “As do I.”

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The morn saw Eomer awake early, he padded on bare feet into his parents room, both were asleep and he went to the bed- side to face his mother and stared at her for a while, trying to will her to waken. He sighed when he realised the futility of this, to make a noise might wake Papa also, and he did not want to rouse his father…just yet. He decided to go back to his room and play with his toys ere his mother woke and on his way out of the chamber he looked down at his sister fast asleep in her cradle. He scowled deeply thinking, ‘Mama would soon stir if the babe was awake’ he looked back to the bed and then just as he was about to give the cradle an almighty push, his Papa, stirred in his sleep and moved slightly. This caused Eomer to panic and run full pelt back to his own chamber, whereupon he buried himself under the blankets feinging sleep. When he realised that Papa had not woken, he climbed out of his bed for the second time and proceeded to play with his toy horses on the soft throw by his window.

Within the hour Theodwyn rose to nurse Eowyn and the sounds of this brought Eomer back into his parents room. He paused at the door, watching his mama and sister, and then left just as quickly and quietly. He settled himself by his chamber window resting his head in his arms and watched all the early morning activities that were unfolding outside. He sighed deeply and then a sudden pressure round his waist roused him from his reverie. The soft arms and heady scent told him it was his Mama, she held him close as she walked back to her bedchamber and settled Eomer between Eomund and herself. There he lay content within his Mothers arms.

“Good morrow,” a deep voice whispered suddenly, as Eomund leaned over to kiss his wife. Theodwyn looked deep into her husband’s eyes, blushing slightly at the recollection of the previous night. Eomund chuckled that she should blush so, even though she was mother of two.

Eomer looked between his mother and father, his eyes large and round, wondering why they were laughing softly together. He felt his fathers large hand stroke his hair, “Eomer, my son, how about a trip to the stables after breakfast….”

“Yes, Papa,” Eomer finished before the full question was asked.

“Let me finish, hasty one, “ Eomund laughed again, “And if we have time….a ride perhaps…….would you like that?”

“Yes, Papa,” Eomer crawled over to his Papa, and sat atop him and then climbed over him to try and hurry his father along. “I am hungry now Papa,” he stated.

“Are you indeed,” laughed Eomund and Theodwyn together.

After breakfast Eomer waited impatiently, wriggling and kicking his legs as he sat, his mother asbent- mindedly reaching out a hand to still him while she had Eowyn resting over her shoulder, being burped. At the same time she was chatting to the female servants on their duties for the day.

Eomund had gone into his study to receive the morning reports ere he ventured out with his son. He had been absent from patrols since the birth of his daughter and the visit from the King and even soon would be out in the field with his men. But today he needed to spend with his first born, Eomer needed to understand why he had incurred the wrath of his Papa.

When Eomund re-entered the dining halls Eomer leapt to his feet and dashed to his side, swinging on his elbow. Eomund lifted him upside down as Eomer shrieked and giggled with delight.

He walked over to his wife, Eomer still dangling thus, and sat for a quick bite and sup ere they left. Eomer remained on his Papa’s lap, head on his knees and legs wrapped round his waist, quite content. Theodwyn leant down to give her son a kiss and tickle before they left the halls, Eomer riding on Eomunds back as they left.

In the stables Eomer was perched upon a large bale of hay as he watched his father saddle his stallion, Windstorm. He had done various small chores under the watchful eye of the marshal and grooms who were about their daily routine. Windstorm was a gentle beast whenever his master, and young master were around but kicked up a credit to his name if any other were dealing with him. The sight of a young four year old walking calmly underneath the giant warhorse brought many exhalations of breath and shaking of heads from the stable hands. Even Galdor, who had run the stables years beyond reckoning, dare not even enter the stall if Windstorm were out of sorts.

Eomund mounted his stallion and Galdor passed Eomer up to settle on the front, he wrapped one arm round his waist and pressed Windstorm to walk forward. When they were free of the gates to the township, Eomund urged his horse to a canter and then a full gallop. With the wind blowing in Eomers face and pressed back into the tight embrace of the man he worshipped, at that moment he was the happiest child in all of Rohan if not Middle Earth.

They did not stray too far from safety, two dozen watchful riders were ever in eyeshot of their Marshal and young son, nothing was ever left to chance for the protection of loved ones.

By mid-day a small stream had been reached and Eomund dismounted and lifted Eomer from the saddle, to first run behind a tree to relieve himself, and then to settle down by the running water for lunch. Eomund first unsaddled Windstorm, covered him with a blanket and let him graze contently and then father and son sat on the grass and ate their lunch.

The day was warm and hazy and Eomer leant sleepily upon his father’s chest, and was beginning to drowse in the heat.

The sound of his father’s voice brought Eomer from his pending slumber. “Son, may I talk to you about your grandfather…. my father?”

“Grandfather, Deor?” Eomer asked with interest, looking intently at the man he adored.

Eomund smiled with love into his sons’ eyes, “Yes, grandfather Deor”.

TBC.