It was but the third time Éowyn had been out riding, and Théodred had left her side.  Éomer was still too short to stay by her and steady her, too short even to avoid getting knocked by the horse’s legs.  Yet, even if he had tried, Théodred would not have let him.

So Éomer stood there, fists balled at his sides, and watched Éowyn begin to slide from the saddle.  She managed to recenter herself the first couple of times, but her legs were short and the fall from the horse was so far…

Éowyn fell to the ground with a whump.  Éomer immediately ran to her.  She was breathing heavily, and tears were in her eyes.  Éomer threw his arms around her and glared at his cousin.

“Back in the saddle,” said Théodred.  “See, she’s breathing better already.”

“She’s still crying!”

“Back in the saddle!”

Éowyn began to shake her head, but Théodred picked her up and put her back on the horse.

“No son or daughter of Eorl should fear to ride,” he told her, looking her straight in the eye.  “Did you not tell me you wanted to ride just like your father and mother?”

“Yes,” said Éowyn.

“Then ride.”  He nudged the horse forward, and slowly, began to back away from Éowyn once more.

“It’s not fair,” said Éomer.  “She was crying!”

“She has stopped.  She was not hurt gravely.  And I can tell you, when your father comes back, he shall do just the same when he teaches Éowyn.”

“But…”

“It happened when you were that young, too.”

“It did?”  That was but four years ago!

“It did,” said Théodred.  “And have you not learned to keep trying, even as you fail?”

Éomer nodded.

“So it will be with your sister.  Even Eorl had to be taught how to ride when he was a youth.  I have no doubt that one day she will ride as well as ever man or woman of the Mark did.”