Ch. 1 -- The King's Concern

October 3007 TA - Edoras

Deordred sat, cap in hand, waiting to show Théoden King his latest modifications to spear and shield for the Eoreds.  Some might think it odd that the King should be so involved in the intricacies of armoury but Deordred found that he had a genuine interest in the skills of the armoury, of hammer and tongs and the suggestions that he made for improvements were sound ideas that Deordred had incorporated into many new pieces.  That was not why he was somewhat anxious about his meeting with the king.  He was anxious about his niece.  Éowyn had taken to coming by the armoury and spending much time.  It is not that he minded necessarily.  Éowyn was a bright, inquisitive young thing genuinely interested in his craft. Odd for a young girl of the court, but he was very impressed by her earnest interest.  It was just that the armoury could be a dirty and sometimes unsafe place for a young girl and he wanted guidance from his king on how to proceed with Éowyn’s visits.  He did not want to discourage her. In fact he found it quite refreshing that a girl of the court had interests outside of ribbons, trinkets and gossip which was his impression of young girls from what little he saw of court life.  He was a little wary about broaching the subject of the King’s niece however.  All knew how protective he was of the young girl.  Slights, even perceived slights, were not borne well by the King as he doted on Éowyn.

Deorgar, the King’s First Councillor, entered the antechamber where Deordred was sitting.  “My lord will see you now.”

The Master Armourer nodded his acknowledgment and gathered up his equipment and his courage to enter into Théoden’s private office as this was not an “audience” but merely a consulting of craft. 

Théoden was at his desk and at footsteps and the slight bit of clanking, “Deordred!,” Théoden exclaimed before looking up.  Standing he rubbed his hand excitedly, “And what do we have today!”

“A few ideas that have taken shape, My lord.  Some with your suggestions in mind.”  He started to lay out the few pieces he had brought.  “But first I wish to speak to you of your niece.”  Théoden paused in his perusal of the table’s wares and looked at Deordred, suddenly serious and a look of expectation on his face.  Good or bad expectation Deordred could not tell but he pressed forward knowing that Théoden always expected directness in one’s speech.  “Over the last few weeks she has been coming by the armoury, to look and to understand what is it that we do.”

“Has she been disrupting proceedings?” Théoden asked pointedly.

“No, my lord!” Deordred answered quickly, “She is bright and inquisitive.  Clearly wanting to learn and understand what we do.”

“And the problem is?” Théoden asked in a leading way.

“The problem is, my Lord, well.  Forges and fires and anvils do not always make for a safe place for young girls and I wanted you to know so if you have a worry with her presence there...  Did you want to guide her visits to make sure she is safe,” he suggested.

Théoden mused, clearly relieved that Éowyn was not in anyone’s way.  He did not want hinder her curiosity but he also wanted to know what she was doing.  He wanted no tongues wagging possibly hurting his young niece's feelings.  Given everything he was therefore deeply grateful to Deordred that he brought this to his attention.  “Thank you for telling me of this.” He continued, “I cannot watch over her to such a degree as to impede her curiosity.  A directed project that she could work on while under your direct supervision I think would be good.  It would add to your workload I’m afraid but I would not want just anyone protecting and guiding her.  Would that be acceptable to you, Master Deordred?”

“Oh Aye! My Lord!”  And though it would mean more work it would still be a joy, “It would be my honour.  My lady is such a quick study and eager to learn!”

Théoden bit back a smile, “Yes, well. I doubt her cookery or needlework teachers would agree with that statement.” He thought of the example of his niece’s most recent needlework;  it was not for public viewing.  Deordred looked somewhat confused by the statement that bore no semblance to the bright interested young girl who frequented the armoury.  Théoden put a hand on Deordred’s shoulder. “Yes, well..." Théoden mused then silently decided to change track mid-sentence, "I shall consult with the Prince and Lord Éomer as well to see what kind of project would be right for Éowyn.  I shall have an answer for you possibly by tomorrow evening.”

“As you wish, My Lord.”

“And Master Deordred,”  The armourer looked into the King’s eyes. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.  It means a great deal to me that you took this time and have this care for my niece.”

“Always! My lord.  She is a dear thing!”  They returned to the perusal of armoury pieces, enjoyable entertained for the next hour.

~*~*~*~*~  

It was decided that Éowyn would learn about and take part in the making of a sword.  It was to be her own sword but she was not to know that until Solstice night.  One night at supper not long after Deordred’s meeting Théoden mentioned in passing how Master Deordred had visited him.  Immediately Éowyn went quiet and tried to disappear into the background.  Both Théodred and Éomer noticed their voluble little one was discernibly quiet all of a sudden.  Théodred looked at his father and noticed the king had a twinkle in his eye as he was glancing frequently at Éowyn as he buttered a roll in his hand. “Do you know what he had to say?”

Théodred was looking at his little cousin as she was trying to slip into the patterned rug sitting under the supper table. A smile in his voice he said, “No,” he said drawing out the word a little longer than was strictly necessary, “But I am sure you are about to tell us.” 

“Right you are, my son!”

“Tell us what, uncle?  What is going on?” stated Éomer directly, sixteen year old boys not being known for their subtlety, but then light dawned on the conversation he and Théodred had had with their uncle the night before and promptly fell silent; a smile on his face.

Théoden hid the growing smile.  “He said that a certain little girl with light reddish blond hair and freckles across her nose had been visiting the armoury.  And curiously at a time when I know she had cookery with Thilda…”

“Oh all right!  I happen to stop by the armoury once or twice on my way to the kitchens!”

“Never mind the fact they are in opposite directions,” Théoden said under his breath. He was having too much fun goading Éowyn especially considering the news he was about to impart.

“Cookery is so stupid!” Éowyn said vehemently.

“Language, Éowyn!’

“Sorry, uncle.” she said perfunctorily,

“Do you like the armoury?” Théoden said more gently.

“Oh! Aye! It is so full noises and interesting smells.  All the metal clinking.  It is exciting!” 

“Would you like to spend more time there in the future.”

“Oh aye, Uncle!”  

“Well then it is settled!  You shall report to Deordred in the morning tomorrow for lessons on how to build a sword!”  The look of rapt joy on his beloved niece warmed his old heart.  He held up his hand to stay the oncoming hug and continued with as serious a face as he could manage, “However there is a downside to this arrangement.”  Éowyn’s face held a look of forestayed joy as she awaited pronouncement.  “You will have to give up one cookery lesson and one needlework lesson each week I’m afraid.  Those are the only times Master Deordred could fit in.” 

Éowyn emitted a squeal of joy, “Thank you!” as she hugged her big bear of an uncle.

Théodred looked at his father, a twinkle in his eyes, replied dryly, “Interesting that those were Master Deordred’s only hours to work.  He is usually most accommodating, especially for his king.”

Théoden returned the smile, “Aye, Interesting isn’t it.” And hugged Éowyn a little tighter.  Perhaps he was spoiling her a little but hugs like this being the result it was hard not to.  She was such a bright, spirited little one.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day Éowyn was at the armoury well before her appointed time. Deordred laughed when he re-entered the workroom having gone to retrieve a particular tool needed for a job he was working and saw her, sitting on her stool by his work bench. “Eager are we!”

Éowyn nodded with energy. Deordred chuckled and said , “Well, let’s get to it!”  Éowyn hopped off her stool with such fervor that she almost upended the stool.  Deordred leveled a look at her, “First lesson, my lady.  Exciting as the armoury is, we must always be careful about how we move about.  There is hot metal and sharp edges everywhere so cautious and careful movements are what will keep us safe.  Can you do that for me?”

Éowyn nodded, “Yes, Master Deordred.  I can do that!”  She replied with earnest and bright eyes.

“Good Girl!” Deordred answered back, now smiling. “Now. To fun!” he walked to the supply area where the metals were kept.  Éowyn trailing in his wake trying hard to be very conscious of her surroundings. 

They entered into a room filled with all manner of ingots, mostly iron and steel but she could even see some copper and a few ingots of gold nearer to her hand.  She reached up and touched the gold ingot on a lower shelf near.  She smiled at Deordred.  “Gold is beautiful, but you’ll not be wanting that for a sword!”

“Why not?” queried Éowyn.

“Because my lady.  It is a very soft metal.  It would neither land or take a blow very well.”

“Oh…” Éowyn mouthed, her eyes shining with new discovery.  

“Here is what we are after,”  Deordred grabbed a few ingots of a dark silver color. “A fine quality steel.  It will make a fine sword.”

After that first hour or so the time spent with Master Deordred soon took their place among her favourite times of the week.  There were certain things that it was too dangerous for an inexperienced apprentice to be allowed to do, such as work the forge or pouring the molten steel into the blade mold or the hammering of the blade so on those days Éowyn made do with watching, enrapt with the process.

“There now! The initial bevel for the blade is defined.” Deordred said as the blade cooled on the workblock.  “Next will be the cleaning and sanding and that will be your job.”  Éowyn sat up straight and clambered off the stool, ready.  The Master Armourer held his hand up, “Tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow!” Éowyn exclaimed disconsolately. 

“Aye my lady! Tomorrow!  Your cousin awaits your company at the door!”  Deordred motioned in Théodred’s direction.  The King’s son stepped forth.  He bent a head in greeting. “Master Deordred!”  

Deordred placed a fist on his heart, “My Lord.”  and bent a greeting.

“How goes the lesson?” he asked the Master Armourer. 

Éowyn chimed in excitedly,  “I’m going to sand tomorrow!”

“Well,” Théodred said smiling at Éowyn, tousling her plaited hair and placing a loud kiss on the top of her forehead.  “I do not think,” he said, looking at Deordred, “that you will find a more enthusiastic or ardent sander than you will have tomorrow,  Master Deordred.”

The master replied, “No, my lord.  I don’t think I shall!”

Théodred held out his arm to his young cousin, “Shall we away?”

Éowyn jumped off her stool and grandly took her cousin’s arm. “Aye, we shall.”  She dropped a small curtsy to Deordred.  

“Off we go, little cousin!” Théodred said and as they stepped out of the armoury and in a low voice he continued, “To bash each other with swords!”

Deordred stared after them and heard a giggle as they left the room.  He shook his head and smiled, the family of the king were always to his mind just like others no side, no airs, unlike some of the others of the Quality he dealt with over the years.  A few came to mind but he pushed those thoughts away as he picked up Éowyn’s sword and carefully set it aside for the next day’s sanding.  He reflected upon the prince’s words. He laughed to himself.  He would indeed never find a more enthusiastic sander than he would encounter the next day he thought as he brought forward an armorform wearing a mailshirt that he was repairing for Lord Elfhelm.  “Freca!” A young red-haired apprentice polishing a piece of armour looked up, “Come here!  Let’s continue with how to repair a damaged ring in the shoulder of a mail shirt.”  Freca bounced up and trotted over.  Deordred smiled inwardly at the exuberance of youth.

The next morning King Théoden wedged a little time in between meetings to visit the armoury.  And it just so happened to coincide with Éowyn’s lesson with Master Deordred.  As he entered the armoury those present made a move to rise at the king’s presence to which he quickly made motion with his hand to stay the obeisance.  He stood just inside leaning on the doorframe.  It gave him a clear view of Deordred’s workbench.  A light red-haired head bent over a sword sanding for all she was worth.  Black soot formed a circle around her and he shared an amused look with Deordred.  Having gazed upon this sight of enthusiastic industry for a few very amusing moments, he declared, “Well now, Deordred.  I have come to see the progress being made.”

Éowyn looked up at her uncle’s voice, clearly excited at his sudden presence.  She cleared a stray lock of hair from her forehead to behind her ear, streaking an already begrimed face, but her eyes were aglow.  Théoden thought she never looked more beautiful. “Uncle!  Come and see what I have done!”  

Théoden pushed his shoulder off the doorframe and strode into the room proper straight to Deordred’s workbench.  “Let us see!”  He would have proclaimed any work she did to be of the utmost quality, but this actually was.  

“I did help with a little of the pounding of the edges. Um– I wasn’t supposed to say that!  Sorry, Master Deordred,” she finished sheepishly.

It was Deordred’s turn to look a little wary but Théoden assuaged his master armourer trepidations, looking at Deordred pointedly.  “I trust Master Deordred’s judgment in this.”  He held the blade by the tang and the flat of the blade itself, inspecting it thoroughly.  Éowyn held her breath, hoping her uncle was pleased.  “Very nicely done!  I have never seen better or more through sanding!”

Éowyn positively glowed with her uncle’s praise, “Thank you, uncle!” She kissed him on the cheek and then hugged him, promptly depositing stray bits of black soot upon his green brocade tunic.

“Aye, well.  You had better be finishing the job!”  he proclaimed.

Éowyn hopped back on the bench and received the blade from her uncle to begin again in earnest.

Théoden watched her work for a bit more.  It helped his heart to see her working so happily.  Her training, which had given her such happiness and purpose, was problematic at best.  Ladies of the court did not train to be shieldmaidens, which was Éowyn’s dream.  A shadow crossed his face when he remembered her reason for wanting to train.

~*~*~*~

Two years prior…

Théoden stood just outside the door to his son’s bedchambers.  He was about to walk in when a snippet caught his ear and he wanted to see where it would go before he interrupted.

“Poor Guthhild, she is going to begin to think that you don’t like her,” Théodred tried to argue.

“Well I don’t…”  Éowyn relented a little, “At least not when she is trying to make me learn to sew, or do needlework.  Shieldmaidens don’t need to know that stuff!”

Théodred countered, “Yes they do. And besides.” Here he tried to soften the blow, “Éowyn. Only village women can train to be Shieldmaidens.  It is not for Noble born ladies.”

Éowyn jumped off his lap and shouted, “Why does everyone keep telling me that!” she had her hands fisted up into little balls at her sides.  “If I had been one maybe I could have ridden at papa’s side and saved him!  Why does nobody think that?”  She ran off in tears down the hallway past where Théoden stood out of the way.  Most likely she ran to the stables and to Gamhelm.  Théoden knew that Gamhelm would know how to sooth her tears.  He was a favourite of Éowyn.  Théoden trusted him implicitly.  And right now he had another matter to tend to.

He moved to the entrance and could see Éomer and Théodred just looking at each other.  Both were taken aback by the fervency of her words and the reasoning behind it.

“And that is why I wished to speak with you both,” both cousins looked at the door and there standing in the doorway was King Théoden.

~*~*~*~

Théoden shook himself from the unpleasant reverie and took his leave of the armoury.  He mouthed “Thank you” to Deordred, motioning to Éowyn happily sanding oblivious to the conversation.  The master armourer bowed fist on heart. Théoden left with a last look at Éowyn working away happily.  There would be a reckoning at some point he knew in his heart but for the current moment Éowyn was happy and all was right in his world.