Orcs, Dungeons and Little Sisters.

Chapter One.

A/N. This is the sequel to Orcs and Babes. It takes place four years later.

“It’s not fair,” Eomer grouched as he dragged his feet along the corridors to his bedchamber, opening the door and was about to slam it shut, but thought better of it. He threw himself face down on his bed, burying his head under the bolster, and he lay sulking and kicking his legs for a long time.

Theodwyn opened his chamber door, looking down at her muddy wet son laid on his bed, and on clean linens, do you mind.

“Eomer!” she scolded.

No answer from under the pillows, muffled as he was to any sounds.

A hand shook his shoulder and his mothers’ voice, “Eomer!”

He sat up and his mother pulled him from the bed into another chamber of which was a hot bath waiting. Eowyn’s nurse - maid, Grethwyn, passed them holding a small tearful girl, swathed in huge drying cloths. She was duly taken to her bedchamber to be dried and dressed.

Eomer was then summarily undressed and climbed himself into the steaming water, not daring to protest at the look on his mothers face. He knew that look and no whining or cajoling would soften her mood when it was thus placed.

Eomer managed to wash himself mostly, his mother only helping with his hair and back. After all he was eight now and really did not need to be bathed, but he would rather fight a dragon than explain this fact to his mother at the moment.

Silence hung over the room, the only sounds were the splashes and occasional cough from inhaled water dripping onto his face. When she was satisfied on the cleanliness of her son, she lifted him out of the tub with a slight grunt. He was getting quite big now for his age and her strength had not fully recovered since she had miscarried of her third child some two months ago.

On top of that both her offspring had caught a strange scarlet sickness that had spread through Aldburg. A rash and fever of which had stricken only children, and in fact there had been two deaths from this disease. Both Eomer and Eowyn had fallen foul of this malady and had been quite ill, both being confined to bed with a high temperature and vomiting. With Eomund away on a long patrol she had had a busy and anxious time nursing her young, and also suffering from the aftermath of her own recent condition.

So it was no wonder that the lady of Rohan was livid with her son when she realised where he had been playing that day, and to take Eowyn with him also. It was just too much.

When Eomer was dressed she marched him into her chambers where a now calm Eowyn was waiting, sat on the knee of her nurse.

“Leave us Grethwyn, if you please, I wouldst have words with these two.” She spoke grimly. The nursemaid bobbed a curtsey and left the room.

Eomer sat on the large bed and immediately his sister ran straight to him and settled herself on his lap giggling. He scowled at her but this only made her laugh more.

“Eomer, have you no sense,” his mother started, “You are only just from your bed with sickness which had afflicted you so badly, and yet you must needs to get yourself soaked in the stream, and what is more, you must take Eowyn with you.”

“Mother…I….” Eomer stuttered trying to get a word in.

“Your lord father is still away on patrol, and I know not when he shall return and here you are giving me a fright with your antics when you should be still at your rest.”

“I am sorry, mother, I did not mean to scare you,” answered Eomer, eyes cast down and feeling a little sorry for himself, not understanding how ill he had been and why his mother was so angry.

Theodwyns heart softened a little, she knelt in front of her son and embraced him, as Eowyn threw her arms round her mama’s neck.

“Well, then it is forgotten, but why must you have got your sister so wet when you know she rose from her sickbed only a day after you?” his mother chided gently.

She picked Eowyn up and walked out of the room to go to the halls to meet with her ladies, “Please remain in your room until the evening meal…”

“But Mother….”

“No, but Mother.” Said Theodwyn firmly.

“Not fair…not my fault…” Eomer pouted and returned to his room. The servants had just been in and changed the linen on his bed. He sat at his favourite place in the window and gazed out at the populace of Aldburg. He wished his father were home or that he could be allowed in the stables. He even found himself wishing he were back to his lessons again, odious though they were, but the healer had said another sevenday ere he could return to his training. It was going to be a long, long week he mused.

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The following morn brought the unexpected return of Eomund and his Eored. They were as exhausted as their horses and the stable area was bustling with life, grooms and stable hands tending to the tired beast, wives and children hoping to spot the safe return of their loved ones. The patrol had been hard and Eomund had lost six riders, six good and loyal men, and was even now speaking to the families involved, comforting those bereaved by their losses.

On returning to the halls Eomund proceeded to his chambers where his wife waited with weary patience, plus two leaping bundles of energy. As he opened the door he deftly scooped both children up in one arm and wrapped the other round the waist of his wife, and spun them all round the room to the shrieks and giggles of his young ones.

“Father...”

“Papa...”

“Did you miss me…?”

“Miss me…?” alternated Eomer and Eowyn almost in unison.

“Yes, I missed both of you,” said Eomund laughing, kissing both soundly on their golden heads, “Now run and play while your mother assists me with my armour and bath.”

Eomer grabbed his sisters’ hand and they ran down to the halls, where other riders would be arriving and they would hear some good stories told.

“Well, wife, “ said Eomund tenderly, stroking his ladies hair with a gentle hand, “How be you?” She looked tired and worn and when he heard of the sickness of both infants Eomund was shocked. He had been concerned to leave his wife after she had miscarried, but she insisted he go, saying it was just one of those things! Eomund was worried, his wife was looking peaked and was far from well herself. He would see to her rest now that he was back, and would personally speak to her healer on the morrow.

After a hot bath and good sup Eomund felt more like to himself. He was still weary beyond count, but he must see to his family. That they had all suffered in his absence had not gone unnoticed, he would see them all well and hale again before he even dreamt of taking his own ease. His wife had retired to her chamber to rest, this was unusual, she was never so and it troubled him mightily. She slept deeply on his check and he could hear laughs and giggles coming from the next chamber. Both his offspring were playing together. Eomer had Eowyn tied up, she was captive of a dragon and he was to rescue her. He paused in the open doorway and smiled to see them thus.

Eomund sought out his wife’s ladies and asked of them all that had occurred since his absence. They were truthful and after listening to the happenings within his halls he knew he had to act hastily to get his wife back to good health.

Very shortly a missive was being carried by a fast rider to Edoras….. a missive to a much loved brother.

Eomund was about to leave his study when a servant informed him that one of his riders insisted he be seen. Permission was given and Beoring, of his Eored, entered, a grave expression on his face. He was accompianed by Brandig, his son of twelve summers. Beoring was bade to sit and discuss what troubling issues he had brought to the house of Eomund.

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Eomer and Eowyn had tired of their games and crept along the corridor to seek their mother. The heavy wooden door was pushed slowly open, and two blonde heads peeked into the large chamber. They tiptoed to the bed, but their mother stirred not, so exhausted was she, that she slept deeply.

“Mama is in bed,” protested Eowyn, and was about to climb up on the bed to reach her, but was stopped by Eomer.

“Let’s find father, Wyn,” he whispered, “ Mother looks tired.”

Eowyn happily agreed and the two left the chamber, Eowyn hanging onto the back of her big brothers tunic as they scuttled down the corridor.

They entered the halls looking for their father, he was not there and they stood a while wondering what to do next when the door to Eomunds study opened and their father appeared. He was about to send a servant to seek for Eomer and request his presence but he spotted his son and called him over. Eomer ran over eagerly, Eowyn following behind.

Eomund called for one of the maids to take his daughter to her nurse- maid, and Eowyn was led away in tears at being parted from them both.

Eomer looked up to his father, a puzzled expression on his face, “Father?” he questioned.

Eomund looked down upon his child, a stern angry look was in his eyes, “I want an explanation, if you please, of the events which occurred yesterday.” He beckoned Eomer into the room, and the child entered, trustingly, wondering why his father was so displeased.

Beoring stood up and glared at Eomer, “So, this is the youngling who has no better manners than an orc!!”

Eomer paled and looked beseechingly at his father, his eyes pleading.

Eomund, stood by the side of his son, a hand resting gently on his shoulder, of which Eomer was most grateful.

“Now, my son,” Eomund asked firmly but kindly, “Tell me why you thought to fight, and to harm another in the fracas with your rage.”

TBC.