Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: Eomer's ward (#1593)
Author: rohanion
Chapters: 7

Warning: Undefined variable $retval in /home/httpd/vhosts/openscrolls.net/httpdocs/fanfic/download.php on line 105

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Lord of the Rings
Description: King Eomer reluctantly accepts a 13 year old boy as his ward for a year.
Published: 09 Feb 2005
Updated: 12 Nov 2005
Warnings:
Type: General
Characters: Eomer


Chapter 1 - "My brother will suffer no fools"

Thanks to my beta SilverMoonLady, in who's genius I stand in awe!




Chapter 1 - "My brother will suffer no fools."

“I don’t know why you think that I will be any better at my lessons in the middle of that backward place than I am here. And there is no good reason for me to learn their barbaric tongue or their silly customs.”

Faramir peered down at his cousin, taking care to show none of the frustration he felt in the face of such sullen and prideful resistance.

“There is very good reason,” Faramir began, looking at the boy fondly. “A man of noble birth is expected to be educated in many things and your lessons here in Gondor have been sorely neglected in the last year. Besides, it will not be so bad, Danimir. Rohirric history is full of heroes and brave deeds - you might find you enjoy it," he added, trying to engage the young man’s interest.

“You’re just trying to get rid of me…” Danimir pouted. “Lord Denethor would never have sent me off with strangers to live below my station and far from my kin.”

Faramir repressed a sigh. He had feared that Dan would view the arrangement this way, and he could not deny that there was at least a little truth to the accusation. The clearing of Ithilien’s vales and forests was taking up a great deal of his time, and his new responsibilities kept him from Minas Tirith as much as his duties as a Ranger had before the War. He barely knew this lad, having seen him but twice in the year since he had been placed under the Steward’s care when he was orphaned.

“Danimir, you are not a little child anymore. You are thirteen years old, and more than ready to take some steps to guard your future. Seize this opportunity; learn all you can from the Rohirrim. They are peerless riders and warriors, and you should not discount the advantages of having friends in the household of King Eomer.”

The boy did not reply, but his resentment was writ clear upon his face. Faramir had little doubt that it would be a very eventful year for all concerned, and his beloved bride-to-be might well come to regret prevailing upon her brother to accept Danimir as his ward.

~~~~

Danimir had been in Edoras for almost a week, and he hated the arrangement no less than he had the day he had arrived. He had seen little of the busy King, but had had his fill of the ancient tutor that he had been handed to. Faramir had insisted, and in his ward’s presence no less, that Danimir receive lessons each day in Rohirric history and language. He had also made it clear that he thought little of Dan’s discipline and motivation.

“Do not spare the rod, good sir, for neither he nor I will thank you for it. I leave him in your capable hands,” Faramir had said in his quiet voice before returning to Gondor.

And so, Dan had spent the last few afternoons cooped up in the hall with only the hopeless boredom of his lessons for distraction. He had quite literally jumped at Eowyn’s suggestion that he ride out with the King on the next day.

~~~~~

That morning, Eowyn went to the stables to see them off.

“Behave yourself – my brother will suffer no fools,” began Eowyn, offering the boy a parcel of food for the journey. Dan mounted his horse and took the parcel from her with a loud sigh.

“Do not vex him, young sir,” she warned. “You will feel his wrath, and it is no light burden, believe me.”

The ride had been much longer than Dan had anticipated, and he shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. He was hungry and cold and his back ached – this was not the adventure he had expected. They had ridden for hours across the Mark, yet when they had reached the village of Kerrinore, Eomer had stayed but a short while, taking neither food nor rest, before they were off again on their return journey. Already irritable and weary, Dan pulled his cloak around him and shivered as the heavy afternoon downpour ran water down his neck, adding to his misery.

After a few hours, Eomer finally gave the order to stop and take rest. Dan grimaced as he slid down from his horse. As the men milled around, tending to their horses, Dan untied the flap on his pack and pulled out the bread and cheese that Eowyn had given him. He was so hungry he thought he would die if he did not eat soon; it seemed so long since breakfast! He shoved a piece of the crumbly cheese into his mouth and savoured the sharp taste.

“Boy!” shouted a voice from behind him. “See to your horse before yourself – he needs water.”

Dan turned to look at Gamling, who was adjusting the straps of his saddle. He nodded to the boy gruffly and walked away.

Dan rubbed his weary head and sighed heavily as he rose. He was so tired he thought he might fall asleep standing up and decided the horse could wait.

Dan sat back down and, cursing quietly to himself, continued his meal. The soft bread filled his stomach and he chewed every mouthful with satisfaction. Lost in his own thoughts of a hot meal and a soft bed, he was not aware that he was being watched.

“Where is your horse?” a sharp voice suddenly demanded from behind him. There was no mistaking the King’s stern tones.

Danimir reluctantly looked up from his food. “Over yonder,” he replied, resuming his meal.

The sudden quiet of the camp was Dan’s only warning of impending trouble.

“You have left your horse fully saddled, untended while you sit here and fill your belly!” roared Eomer, kicking the food out of the boy’s hands.

Dan jumped up as the precious meal flew through the air, his own face red with anger and frustration.

“You will eat when you have fed and watered your horse, Boy!” seethed Eomer.

“I am hungry! I have not eaten since this morning!” Dan shouted at the King. “Besides,” he added sullenly, “there are others to see to the horses.”

“You want my men to see to your horse?” replied Eomer in mounting disbelief.

“Yes. I am a lord of Gondor. It is not fitting for one of my station to tend the beast,” replied Danimir with pert arrogance.

Eomer’s ill-concealed rage exploded in the face of the boy’s insolence. He threw down his helmet and grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck.

“A lord of Gondor indeed! If you want to act like a spoilt child then I will treat you as one!”

Yanking him up to his feet, Eomer dragged Dan roughly over to a large rock. Sitting down, he pulled the young boy sharply across his lap.

“In Rohan, this is what we do to naughty, spoilt children – we spank them!” the King said, throwing off his gloves.

Danimir’s heart was pounding. He hadn’t expected this and he struggled to free himself from the King’s hold.

“Please my lord,” he began, but Eomer ignored him and, pulling down the boy’s breeches to add further humiliation, he spanked him soundly for all to see.

Dan cried out with each wallop as Eomer’s firm slaps turned his backside red.

“P..please…! No more my lord, I… I won’t do it again!” he cried out, but Eomer was unmoved.

The rest of the eored had now gathered around and were laughing at the humiliating spectacle before them.

“Let him have it, my Lord!” a voice shouted out and Danimir felt Eomer’s hand strike him harder than ever.

“I am sorry! Please stop…!” Dan screamed aloud, sobbing pitifully. “I can take no more, I beg p… pardon!”

Eomer eventually ceased the punishment and stood the boy up sharply. Dan grabbed his breeches and fastened them together, crying helplessly, all pride and arrogance forgotten. The pain from his backside was agony and he rubbed his buttocks frantically to try and quell the awful sting.

Eomer stood up and replaced his gloves, glaring at the boy.

“Well, little Lord of Gondor, how mighty do you feel now?” he asked sternly.

Dan looked down at the dirt. Huge tears filled his eyes and he ached for what he had done. He felt humiliated, stupid and very, very sore. He could sense the eyes of all the riders upon him and try as he may he could not stop the tears from rolling down his face.

Eomer walked up close to him and surveyed the pathetic boy before him

“You would do well to remember that we have a long year ahead of us, young fool. I am your liege and lord now, and you will obey me in all things or you will feel my wrath.”

“Yes, sir” Dan said quietly between sobs, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He hung his head in shame, too embarrassed to meet any of the eyes of the riders or their king.

“Come, the hour is late. We ride for home,” said the King suddenly and the men immediately busied themselves readying their horses to leave.

Danimir was left alone, still smarting from his punishment, and he walked with difficulty over to his horse. He knew he had been wrong to feed himself before looking to the welfare of his horse and he groaned as he leaned against the warm body of the animal. He wasn’t even sure how he was going to climb up into the saddle, much less ride all the way back to Edoras.

Eomer, already astride his horse, approached the miserable boy with a smirk.

“You would now expect your horse to carry you home, after such ill-treatment? You deserve no such service from the lowest mule in my stable, Boy. Besides, I doubt you could bear to sit in the saddle right now,” the King said mockingly. “You will ride home across my saddle, like the idiot boy you are.”

He heaved Dan up onto his mighty steed and laid him unceremoniously across the front of this saddle.

The men laughed loudly at the sight of the proud boy, now slung over the King’s horse like a bundle.

Dan tried to pull himself up. He wanted to apologize, to ask for another chance, but before he could speak, Eomer rapped him sharply on the backside with his hand.

“Be still!” he commanded.

Dan winced at the slap, which had reignited the fire in his backside, and he slouched hopelessly, too scared to anger Eomer further. Dan resigned himself to a very uncomfortable ride home.








.


Chapter 2 - "Do not give me that look Eowyn"

Thanks to my beta SilverMoonLady, in who's genius I stand in awe!



Chapter 2 - "Do not give me that look Eowyn!"



By the time they reached Edoras, Dan was feeling sick, sore and very humble. His head ached and he cursed himself for his foolish behaviour. The ride home had left him with plenty of time to reflect upon his situation and he wondered how he was ever going to get through the rest of this day, let alone the next year.

As the riders came through the gates and made their way up to the stables, Dan raised his head a little and looked around him. To his despair he could see people stopping their work to stare at the amusing sight before them. A group of children pointed at him and began to giggle; Dan’s heart sank as he realized that soon everyone in Edoras would know of his undignified return.

When they reached the stables, Eomer quickly dismounted and pulled Dan from the saddle. The boy stumbled, his legs numbed by the ride, and he fell in a heap on the floor. Eomer looked at him and shook his head.

“Get up!” snapped the King.

The boy quickly struggled to his feet and brushed the straw from his clothes.

“Take my horse and stable him – he needs rubbing down, food, water . . . You do know how to care for a horse?” Eomer asked, handing him the reins.

“Yes sir, I think so,” Dan answered respectfully.

“Good, because when you have done that, you can attend to all the other horses that rode out today,” added Eomer, pulling off his helmet and brushing his hair back from his face.

Dan looked up at his new liege, horrified at the prospect. “All of them, sir?”

“All of them,” repeated Eomer sternly, turning to walk away.

“But it will take me until midnight!” Dan replied, his voice rising nearly to a wail at the thought of grooming over a dozen horses.

“Then I suppose you had better start soon, boy!” Eomer roared frighteningly. Dan jumped back and swallowed hard, his heart pounding.

“What about my . . .” Dan could not say the next word, the look on Eomer’s face made him bite his tongue.

“Your supper?” Eomer finished the sentence, staring down on the small boy. Dan wished he hadn’t mentioned it and could feel his face redden with shame.

“I think a night with no supper will serve you well, Master Danimir. Perhaps it will help to remind you of what hunger feels like for either horse or boy.”

Dan felt the words cut into him and he lowered his eyes to the floor. The King turned and walked away towards the hall. For him the incident was over, but for Dan a long night lay ahead. He led the horse slowly into the stable and began to take the saddle and bridle from the huge beast, fresh tears of self pity filling his eyes.

~~~~~~

Eomer walked into the hall and was met by the welcoming smell of cooking food. He was hungry, very hungry and he relished sitting down to eat. Waiting before the fire’s warmth his spirits were further lifted when he saw Eowyn approaching with a large tray of steaming food.

“Ah, Sister, you are a welcome sight! It has been a long ride and I am hungry and weary.”

Eowyn smiled at her brother. “I am glad to hear it, for the cook has prepared a great stew of venison, and there are potatoes and turnips and warm bread. Come, sit down Brother and tell me of your day.”

Eowyn placed the heavy tray down on the table and began to set the food out before the King. “I expected you earlier than this. The night grows dark, and it is late for the boy to be out,” she began, glancing around the hall for any sight of the youth.

“Eomer, where is he?”

“Who?” replied the King, taking a mouthful of warming food.

“Danimir – the boy I entrusted you with this morning. You haven’t lost him have you?” Eowyn asked, worry and a touch of irritation entering her voice.

“Calm yourself, sister, he is stabling the horses - all fourteen of them,” replied Eomer, chuckling to himself. He picked up the pitcher and winked at his sister as he poured himself a jug of ale.

“Eomer! Why would you do such a thing to the poor lad?” Eowyn asked as she sat down opposite her elder brother and glared at him with a well practiced look of annoyance.

“Do not give me that look Eowyn; it is not I that needs the scolding!” he replied, all too familiar with his sibling’s disapproving glare, though he did not feel it was deserved tonight. “Your husband-to-be has sent me a spoilt brat indeed to look after and not a ‘poor little lad’. He is an arrogant, disrespectful child, Eowyn, with little sense of his duties.”

Eowyn watched her brother continue to eat his meal and wondered what the lad had done to vex him so. She knew the boy could be sullen but she had put that down to him feeling strange in this new land. He had yet to learn their ways and their traditions, but she was sure that he would be fine once he had settled in. She too would soon find herself living in a strange new place... But she also conceded that at times the child could be awkward too, and she had known that Faramir had been obliged to scold him on several occasions back in Minas Tirith.

“The Steward sent him here to learn what I may teach, Eowyn,” began Eomer, chewing another mouthful of food. “At the very least, after tonight, he will think twice before he speaks to me again in that manner,” Eomer said, pointing at his sister with his fork. He poured himself another jug of ale, pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair, full and content.

“What about his supper?” Eowyn finally inquired as a servant approached to clear away the remains of the meal.

“By the time he has finished stabling all those horses, he will be fit for nothing but sleep,” laughed Eomer as he stretched his arms out wide and yawned. He stood up and went back over to the fire and stood before it. He glanced at his sister and sighed; she was still glaring at him with a disapproving frown.

“It will not kill him, Eowyn! You know that as well as I, for the many times we both reaped such rewards for mischief. He will learn his lesson from it, and I dare say that his sore backside will make a good reminder as well,” added Eomer, the corners of his mouth turned up as he tried to suppress his laughter.

Eowyn shot him a wide-eyed look. “For pity’s sake, what did you do to him? It has only been a week since Faramir left him in our care. Have you thrashed him as well?”

“The boy was disrespectful!” said Eomer, trying to defend himself. “I put him over my knee and spanked him. I’m sure it’s not his first or last encounter with such punishment, sister. All boys are thrashed at some time. You are turning into an old mother hen and you are not yet a married woman with a brood of your own. Will you question your husband every time he takes one of your sons to task?” Eomer challenged her.

“That is not the issue here. I just think you are being too hard on the boy,” Eowyn said irritably. “And you leave Faramir out of this!” she snapped over her shoulder as she turned away.

“Now what have I done?” exclaimed the King, lifting his arms out wide in a gesture of bewilderment.

Ignoring him, she stalked from the hall, leaving the King of Rohan feeling decidedly confused and reprimanded like a small boy himself.


~~~~~

It had been a long night. Dan had worked hard under the careful eye of the Stable Master, an old man who had lovingly cared for the horses of Edoras for many years. As the last of the tack was put away Dan sat down on some bundles of straw to rest his weary body. He wasn’t hungry any more, that had passed hours ago, and now all he could think of was sleep. He didn’t even feel sorry for himself anymore, or homesick, or sad – just exhusted. He longed to climb into his soft bed and slip beneath the warm covers but he could not yet face the walk up to the hall. He would sit here for just a few minutes to rest himself and then he would make his journey.

The stable door opened, letting in a breeze of cool night air, yet the sleeping figure did not stir. The Stable Master nodded his head to the midnight visitor and glanced over at the boy.

“I tried to wake him, but he is as the dead.”

“Leave him be. He will come to no harm here. ”

The visitor picked up a woven horse blanket of green and gold and wrapped it snugly around the young boy, making sure it covered him fully. They gently pulled off the boy’s boots and set them on the ground before him.

“When he wakes tomorrow, send him to the hall for his breakfast. He will need a bath and a change of clothes as well.”

“Aye, I will look after him, don’t you worry,” nodded the old man wisely. “Just as I looked after a certain other youngster, not that long ago.”

“I remember it well,” the visitor quietly said, glancing once more at the sleeping boy. “Now I take my leave of you.”

The stable door opened once again and Eomer slipped out into the darkness of the night.
------------------------------------------------------------------









------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 3 - "War is the province of men"

Thanks to my beta SilverMoonLady, in who's genius I stand in awe!



Chapter 3 – “War is the province of men”


Dan woke the next morning with a hunger in his belly that ached like none he had ever known. Still half asleep, he pulled on his boots and stretched his gangly limbs, yawning as he scanned the silent stables, momentarily confused as to why he was there. All at once, the memories of yesterday came flooding back to him and he inwardly winced when he recalled his humiliating episode over the king’s knee. The boy closed his eyes and groaned.

The quiet of dawn was broken as the stable boys came through the doors, their noisy chatter and clanging of buckets heralding their arrival. The sun’s rays shone through the open doors, illuminating the tiny particles of dust and hay that floated in the air as the horses kicked at their stalls in anticipation of their morning feed. Dan stood up considering what to do next, as he was not eager to meet their inquisitive looks. He finally decided to make for the hall and seek out some breakfast.

As he walked outside into the crisp morning air, the chill of the wind caught his breath. The sun was not yet high enough in the sky to warm the skin and Dan shivered slightly as he hurried along the path. As he climbed the steps to the great doors, his stomach began to tighten a little, though not from hunger this time, but more from dread of facing his new liege. Perhaps the king would not be up yet, and Dan might slip, unnoticed, to the kitchens to beg cook for some much needed food. Being a growing lad of thirteen, he had already endeared himself to the cook earlier in the week and had been rewarded with a steady flow of tasty tit bits over the last few days.

Dan stood before the huge wooden doors to the hall and waited for the Royal Guard to admit him. The two men on duty surveyed him closely, causing Dan to squirm a little before them. He wondered if they knew about yesterday’s ‘incident’, but the look of shared amusement he thought he saw cross their faces before they eventually opened the heavy doors left him little doubt. The boy stole quietly into the Hall of Meduseld, but before he could venture further than a couple of yards, a voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Where are you skulking off to?” the King inquired from the other side of the silent hall.

The boy's face blushed and he stumbled nervously over his answer.

“I… I was just going to the kitchens…” he began, shocked to find the king at table so early.

“Are you hungry?” asked Eomer directly.

“Yes. Yes sir, I am famished.”

Eomer chuckled at the boy’s honesty and surveyed him in detail, noting his scruffy appearance.

“You need to wash and change; I can smell you from here. If you sit down to table smelling like a horse, my sister will take us both to task. Go clean yourself up, I will tell a servant to lay out your food. Well, hurry, boy!” added Eomer sternly, causing Danimir to flinch at his tone.

“Yes, sir,” Dan replied respectfully, wary not to anger this man in any way. He made his way quickly through the hall to his sleeping chamber. Once inside, he leaned against the door and sighed, cursing Lord Faramir out loud for sending him to this barbaric place.

~~~~~

Eomer had almost finished his meal by the time the boy returned, clean and wearing fresh clothes. Dan sat down at the table and surveyed the array of delicious food before him, hesitating nervously as he glanced up at Eomer.

“Eat,” ordered the king.

Dan, his hunger now in overdrive began to devour the hearty breakfast with zeal, stuffing warm bread, honey and fruit into his mouth in quick succession. Eomer smiled as he watched the youth satisfy his hunger, recalling similar memories of himself from his younger days. Eomer gestured for the servant to bring more food and poured the boy a glass of buttermilk and pushed it across the table to him. Dan took the milk and nodded his thanks, his mouth too full to say the words. Lifting the cup to his mouth he began to gulp down its sweetness within.

“So, little Lord of Gondor,” began Eomer, settling back in his chair and pausing. “What do we do with you?”

Dan looked nervously at the king before he lowered the cup from his mouth and placed it slowly down upon the table, swallowing hard.

“My Lord?” he replied, apprehensively wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Your liege, Lord Faramir has placed a heavy burden upon me, you are to live as one of my household, under my care and guardianship, yet I will be honest with you I know little of how to care for a child,” Eomer announced.

“I am not a child,” retorted Danimir crossly as he met the eyes of the man opposite him.

“Nor are you yet a man,” warned Eomer sternly, noting the spark of arrogance that carried from the boy’s voice.

The tone of the king’s reply made Dan think again and he lowered his eyes in a gesture of deference and sighed.

“I do not intend offence my lord,” Dan replied courteously. “I just wish I were of age, and then I would be a burden to no one. I know that Lord Faramir feels he has a duty to me, but that is all it is – duty. He does not know what to do with me either, that is why I have been sent here. I cannot blame him for he hardly knows me, or I him.” Dan went on to explain how he had come to live under the care of the Steward of Gondor the previous year.

“When my mother died, Lord Denethor had me brought to the citadel to live as his ward, and though I lived in the Steward’s House during this past year, I very rarely saw Faramir or his brother Boromir. In fact, I saw little of anyone at all,” Danimir stated sullenly as he played absently with the crumbs on his plate. “As soon as I am able, I will join the Rangers and fight, and then I will be a burden to no one,” he concluded looking at the king solemnly.

Eomer looked at the boy and sighed.

“Lord Faramir is an honourable man and would take his responsibilities seriously. He has sent you here because he sees fit, do not doubt that, boy.” The king took an apple from the dish, looking at it closely as he polished it on his sleeve. “Do not be in too much of a hurry to go into battle, little lord, for the time will come when you will be called upon to defend your lands and your people. However, war is the province of men, not boys,” Eomer added, pensively looking over at Danimir. “And you are still a boy.”

Dan shifted uncomfortably in the chair, strangely unsettled by their conversation and the king’s melancholy tone. Suddenly, Eomer stood up and pushed his chair back, unexpectedly tossing the apple across the table to Dan.

“Come, we have things to attend to,” he commanded as he turned and began to make his way outside. Dan, unsure exactly what he was suppose to do, followed the king out of the hall and down the steps, running to keep up with the tall man’s great strides. Eomer made straight for the stables and Firefoot’s stall. He nodded his head in greeting to the stable master who was busy at his work.

“Well, how did the boy fare?” Eomer asked running his hands over the mighty steed, examining his coat and mane in detail. “Are you satisfied with his work?”

“Aye, he did well sire. Stable duty is hard work, as you will no doubt remember,” replied the old man, winking at the king. Eomer’s mouth melted into a smile and he nodded his head in agreement.

“Aye, I remember,” acknowledged Eomer before gesturing the boy closer with his finger.

Dan did as he was bid and came to stand beside the king.

“Look here, you have missed some of his coat, see the dirt just here by his shoulder,” Eomer said glancing quickly at the boy. Dan nodded and bit his lip anxiously, anticipating with sick dread the King’s discipline. But Eomer simply turned back to the beast and pattered it affectionately. “Otherwise, you have done well,” he continued, his eyes scanning over the rest of the horses and tack, silently noting the minor mistakes one expected of inexperienced and exhausted hands.

“Very well, Danimir of Gondor,” Eomer began in a loud voice. “You shall care for my horse every day from now on. You will feed him, groom him, clean his tack and his stall,” Eomer declared, staring down at the young lad.

Dan’s mouth fell open and he took a sharp intake of breath as he comprehended this last sentence. Why him? There were stable hands to see to the horses, why did the king want him to care for this great brute of a horse. Firefoot was over seventeen hands high and Dan had struggled to lift the saddle from him last night.

“Every day, my lord?” Dan asked hesitantly, aghast at the order.

“Yes, from this day until the day you leave Edoras,” proclaimed the king. “He is your responsibility now, and if I find his care lacking in any way or if he becomes ill, then you shall answer to me,” Eomer warned. Overawed by the enormity of the task before him, Danimir missed the mischievous glint in the king’s eye as he took the apple from the stunned boy’s hand and he fed it to his horse.

~~~~~~~

Eowyn scowled at her brother as he recounted the tale to her later that day. She was still unsure of Eomer’s treatment of the child and worried over how Faramir would view this arrangement regarding his ward.

“Danimir is a young Lord of Gondor Eomer, not a stable boy,” Eowyn reminded her brother as she followed him into their late uncle’s private study.

“He is a boy, and that is how I shall treat him whilst he is under my roof, Eowyn. He will come to no harm cleaning stables,” replied Eomer as he perused a handful of scrolls before tossing them impatiently across the table.

“Where is the boy now?” Eowyn asked.

Eomer sighed as he sat down to the task before him. “Well… He is at lessons presently, and after that I have left instruction that he meet with the Weapons Master.”

“The Weapons Master! What ever for? Don’t tell me you’ve given him cleaning duties there as well?” exclaimed Eowyn.

Eomer leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk, casually surveying his little sister.

“My dear sister, as you are at great pains to keep reminding me, Danimir is a young lord. I have left instruction that he is to be tutored each day in sword and bow, as befits his noble birth,” Eomer replied with a smirk. “I have also undertaken to teach this Gondorian to ride, for I cannot allow him to shame my horses any longer. Why, he rides only marginally worse than your betrothed,” he added, needling Eowyn with some pleasure.

Eowyn glared at her brother, all the while desperately trying to suppress the giggle that would escape her mouth. Eomer raised his eyebrow and gave his sister a cheeky look.

Eowyn opened her mouth to speak, her regal head held high as she tried to defend her betrothed.

“Faramir is an excellent horseman . . . for a Gondorian,” she admitted as they both broke into a fit of laughter.


Chapter 4 - "A dangerous place, for any and all"

With thanks, as always to my beta, SilverMoonLady, without whom, this story would have died long ago!



Chapter 4

The long days of summer were drawing to a close, and the chill of autumn could be felt on the winds that now swept through Rohan. Dan had been at his new home for over three months, and although he had found it hard at first to adjust to his new life in this strange place, he had gradually found a sense of routine and security that he had not known in a long time. His days were busy, so busy in fact, that he had little time now to reflect upon his homesickness or suffer the melancholy that had plagued his first few weeks in the Mark.

As ordered, Dan had risen early each day to attend to Eomer’s horse, Firefoot. At first he had feared the horse, so great was its size and strength, and he had found it difficult to deal with the beast. Gradually, the horse and stable boy had come to know one another, and a trust was developing between them that made Dan privately glow with pride. Eomer had been pleased with the boy’s attentions and had praised him on several occasions, apart from the one morning, when the boy had accidentally slept late. He soon found himself being dragged from his bed by an angry Eomer, who boxed his ears and berated him sharply. It was a mistake Dan was careful never to repeat.

After his morning duties in the stables were over, the boy was obliged to attend his daily instruction in the schoolroom. Dan had tried repeatedly to persuade Eowyn to release him from his ‘torture’ of daily lessons with the ancient tutor.

“But my Lady, it will serve no purpose to make me continue with these lessons,” he had bemoaned, most days over breakfast. “I am no scholar – not like Lord Faramir! Please release me from this torment; I fear I will be the death of my tutor, so great is his frustration at trying to teach me Rohirric!”

But Eowyn had merely laughed and steadfastly refused his plea each time.

“Indeed I will not young sir, for Lord Faramir was quite insistent that you receive lessons whilst you were under my brother’s care. We would be remiss if we were not to oblige him in this matter,” Eowyn had replied, condemning the boy to spend each morning in a continual state of tedium as the old tutor tried his best to engage the boy in learning.

The afternoons, however, held much more interest for Dan. Once released from the boredom of the schoolroom, he would dash off to the training grounds, where the warriors practiced their skills. Dan was learning how to use a sword, and although a novice at first, he had taken to his instruction readily, impressing the Weapon’s Master with his progress and skill. After the first few lessons, Dan had been partnered with another boy of a similar age, Leod, a son of one of the Marshals. Initially, the two had been wary of each other. The Rohirrim were an insular people, and did not take to strangers or visitors well. They were unsure of what to make of this lad from Minas Tirith; he was a foreigner, sullen and quiet, and a burden they all felt that their new king could very well do without. Given time, however, a friendship had flourished between the two boys and Dan had revelled in having company of his own age once again. He reflected that he had not played with other children since the day he had been sent to live at the Steward’s House.

There had been no other children in the citadel, and Dan’s days had been lonely and long. The old Steward, Denethor, had taken little interest in the boy, placing him in the care of tutors and servants, who were to be his only company within the dismal grey confines of his new home. Occasionally, Denethor would request his presence at table, a request that the boy would view with nervous anticipation. Dan would have to endure the increasingly unpredictable manner of this frightening man, as he lurched from one mood to another. Denethor would at first feign interest in the boy’s progress in his studies, or his riding, listening to the young boy as he answered his questions timidly. Often he would go on to lament about the boy’s mother, his manner soft and kind, ruffling Dan’s hair and patting him on the shoulder in a gesture of pity and love that always made Dan flinch, because he knew what was coming next. The Steward’s mood would darken, and without warning he would become morose and deep, ignoring the young lad before him, his mind seemingly elsewhere, and his thoughts private and concealed. Dan was always frightened of him when he was like this, and he would be forced to sit in silence, too scared to speak until his Lord excused him and gave him leave to retire.

Thankfully, there were no deep or difficult adults to deal with at Edoras, for here everything was much simpler. Eowyn and Eomer both spoke their minds freely and would openly either scold or praise the boy without calculation. If he had done something wrong, Dan had come to expect a sharp dressing down, or even a box to the ears, from anyone who deemed it necessary, from the King right down to the cook. There seemed to be no account given for his title or rank; to the Rohirrim he was just a boy. But just as they were quick to scold, they were also quick to laugh and meal times in the hall were relaxed and often amusing, a far cry from his memories of the last few years. Though Dan would never admit it, even to himself, he was beginning to feel at home.

>>>>>>>>>>>


“I have good news for you boy,” said Eomer, a glint of humour lighting his eyes as he surveyed the boy across the breakfast table. “There will be no lessons today, for we must bring the harvest in, and every strong pair of hands is needed before the weather turns. We have a long winter ahead of us and I would have the grain stores full.”

Dan stared back at the King open-mouthed.

“No lessons! That is indeed good news, my Lord!” the boy replied, smiling broadly, his delight at escaping from the schoolroom obvious for all to see.

Eomer laughed out loud and shook his head.

“I can understand your distaste for your lessons, Boy, for I too was always the reluctant student, but I very much doubt that you have ever toiled all day in a field before! By the end of this one, you may well wish you were back at your lessons,” Eomer warned.

“I will take my chances, my Lord,” replied Dan with an impish grin on his face.

After they had broken their fast, Eomer and Dan made their way to the lower fields, where Eomer consulted with a group of men about the order of work for the day. Dan was amazed to see so many people of the Mark assembled. Men, women and children, young and old, had all come together to gather in the crops with a spirit of cheerfulness and purpose.

Eomer barked out instruction from his seat on Firefoot to the various groups and, without question or preamble, his people set to their tasks quickly and efficiently, aware of the roles they played in this important communal task. Dan stood awkwardly and waited for his instruction, for although he was eager and glad to be outside on this fine day, he had never worked the land before and knew nothing of harvesting crops.

However, after the first week, Dan was indeed contemplating whether the schoolroom would have been the easier option. His arms and back ached from the many hours of cutting and carrying the crops, and his face was burnt red by the long hours spent in the sun. On more than one occasion, he had fallen asleep at the supper table, youthful energy spent by his days in the field. Eomer had teased him about it, as he shook the boy awake, before sending him to his bed, much to the displeasure of the indignant lad.

“The hour is early, my Lord!” Dan would plead in protest, even though he knew he was more than ready for sleep. He still felt that at thirteen, he was much too old to be sent to bed so early.

“You are exhausted boy,” the king would note sternly. “Off to your bed, and I will brook no argument from you.”


On the final day of the harvest, Dan was relieved to hear the bell that summoned the workers in from the fields, for tonight there was to be merriment to celebrate the good harvests of Rohan, and a great feast was to be held in the hall.

As he walked back across the fields, he decided to take a shortcut, eager to get home and prepare for the evening’s celebration. Though Eomer had told him the path was dangerous and had forbidden him to use it or go anywhere near the old boat house, going down by the river would shorten his journey and he could be home in half the time if he ran. Dan was now leery of provoking the King’s wrath, especially to tread a path so clearly out of bounds, but he had dared it before, and had every intention of doing so today.

He was half way along the path, when he heard the sound of a horse. Dan narrowed his eyes and peered down the bank to the old boathouse, just visible through the cover of trees. There was indeed a horse, but not just any horse, Dan realised; it was the King’s horse – Firefoot! Intrigued at this sight, Dan stopped and pondered what to do. Why would Eomer himself come to the disused boathouse, when he had been so insistent that Dan stay away from the area? Unable to contain his curiosity any longer he slipped quietly down the bank and sneaked around the hut, trying to find a crack or space where he could spy inside. Kneeling on the ground he found a loose board and pushing it to one side he looked inside – only to see that Eomer was not alone!

*********

That night, Dan ate heartily. The food was plentiful and the ale flowed freely in the hall. The people of Edoras sang their songs and the women danced as toasts were made to the new King and the good harvest. Dan was seated next to Eowyn and she smiled warmly at him as her people celebrated their good fortune.

“You have worked hard in the fields these last weeks Danimir, the people of Rohan thank you this night.”

“Thank you, My Lady,” Dan replied, blushing with embarrassment. He looked over at the King who was drinking with some of his men, his face relaxed, his voice happy, the worries and responsibilities of his office seemingly forgotten this night.

As the evening wore on, Eomer came over to his sister and put his arm affectionately on her shoulder.

“Eowyn, we have much to be thankful for this night. The Valar have blessed us indeed, for our people will have full bellies this winter, and my mind is at peace,”

Eowyn looked up at her brother and smiled, touching his face affectionately and acknowledging his weight of office.

“The people of Rohan have much to be thankful for indeed my brother, for they have been blessed with a good King, strong of arm and heart.”

Eomer laughed out loud and then took his sister’s hand and kissed it.

“Sister, I shall miss you when you leave the house of Eorl next year,” replied the King seriously. “Who then will I share our people’s happiness with?”

“You should take a wife, Brother. You need a good woman, a mate!” replied Eowyn laughing.

The King frowned deeply at his sister and shook his head.

“A wife! Who would I marry? There is no romance in my life, little Sister, no woman whom I desire to be my mate.”

“Yes, there is,” said Dan innocently as he joined in the conversation. “You could marry the girl you were with today. You seemed to like her a lot.”

Eowyn turned to look at Dan, astonished and not a little curious. She was eager to know of this woman.

“Ahh, so he has a secret sweetheart! Pray tell, who is she?” Eowyn teased looking from boy to man, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“I think her name is Bryn. I have seen her many times around the barracks and all the soldiers seem to like her,” began Danimir, oblivious to the obvious.

Eowyn’s eyes widened in shock, whilst Eomer’s face blushed brightly as he realised who the boy was referring to.

“I saw you with her today,” the boy continued, grinning at the King. “You were kissing her, so you must desire her! Why don’t you ask her to marry y. . .” Dan said naively, before noticing the shared look of acute embarrassment on the faces of both sister and brother.

“Be silent! You are mistaken,” interrupted Eomer hastily, stopping the boy before he could finish his sentence. The king took a deep breath, struggling to find something to say to hide his awkwardness and embarrassment in front of his innocent sister.

“But, it’s true,” Dan protested, confused and puzzled by Eomer’s angry denial. “I saw you in the boathouse, by the river; you kept calling out her name.”

Eowyn put a hand to her mouth to hide her amusement. Her brother had well and truly been found out and she watched him with a smug hint of satisfaction as he squirmed and flustered before her, the fierce and proud King of Rohan brought to heel by a mere boy of thirteen.

“Brother, it would seem you have much to teach your young ward, for he is rather confused by your choice of . . . companion,” Eowyn said calmly, looking her brother directly in the eye.

Eomer cursed quietly under his breath.

“It is time you were abed,” snapped Eomer irritably, grabbing the boy by the collar and pulling him up from his chair none too gently.

“But the hour is not late, why must I go to bed?” protested the struggling boy. “It is not fair! I tell only the truth, my Lady,” pleaded Dan, as he tried to engage the Lady Eowyn to his plight.

“Danimir!” roared the king, pushing the boy forward, eager to remove himself and the child from his sister’s presence.

“You cannot mean to punish me!” pleaded Dan beseechingly, frantically trying to hold on to his chair. “I have done nothing wrong, Sire!”

“Oh, but you have, little lord!” retorted Eomer smugly. “Were you not forbidden to go near the river or the boathouse?” asked Eomer, turning the boy towards him by his shoulders. “Did I not tell you it was dangerous?”

“Yes . . . But my Lord, I was just taking a shortcut,” Dan pleaded, trying to excuse his own indiscretion.

“Nevertheless, you disobeyed me, boy,” replied Eomer, turning him around once more he pushed the lad towards the door to the private apartments, where the family lived. Dan dragged his feet as he was marched out of the hall, miserably grumbling to himself along the way.

“Brother!” Eowyn called after him suddenly. The King turned and met his sister’s teasing eyes. “It would seem the old boathouse is indeed a dangerous place, for any and all!”


Chapter 5 - "For Lord and Land".

Chapter 5 – For Lord and Land.


If anybody out there is reading this story, PLEASE, PLEASE leave me a review... otherwise I wont know whether its good or not!


“When you have finished that, there is mucking out to see to, and then the leather. Do not tarry young sir,” snapped the stable master as he moved swiftly past the boy, who was wearily filling a bucket from the water trough. Dan turned his head, eyeing the steaming pile of horse muck that lay waiting for his attention and sighed loudly. He banged the dripping bucket down on the stone floor, his hands numb with cold, and mumbled a string of curses.

“I doubt you learnt those Rohirric words from the tutor!” The stable master cautioned, raising an eyebrow in warning to the youth. The boy’s face flushed red, and he picked up the heavy bucket once more and returned, reluctantly, to his work.

Dan pouted, as he stood before the stinking mountain of muck and sneered at the task before him. He didn’t think his little short cut along the river bank warranted two weeks of extra stable duties, but the idea of protesting or arguing was not an option. Eomer had made his displeasure quite clear - the incident with the ‘boat house’ was still a sore subject within the House of Eorl!

Dan cursed again, only this time he was careful to do so quietly. He was quite proud of his mastery of Rohirric swear words, and he chuckled to himself when he thought of Faramir and his insistence that he ‘learn the language’ – what would the Steward say now if he could hear him, he mused. Sighing resignedly, he picked up the pitchfork and began to shovel the offending pile.


*************

The King had been in council all morning, and was eager to seek escape from the Hall at the first opportunity. Ending the session, he nodded in acknowledgement to his men before making his way to the sanctuary of his study at the back of the Hall. Eothain, his old friend, followed closely behind.

“If I have to listen to one more dispute, or make judgement on another land issue, I shall go mad,” the king carped, as he reached the privacy of the study. The Marshal, followed him into the room and closed the door firmly behind him, trying to give his liege a look of support.

“‘Twas a long session Sire, and there were many people to be heard; you did well.”
Eomer turned to look at Eothain, and scowled.

“Many people! It would seem half of Edoras and her surrounding villages have land issues! By the Valar, Eothain, I never thought the day would come when it would be me making all those decision! I was ever the soldier, not the politician.” The king sat down heavily in a chair and ran his hand through his long hair, his face pale and weary. It had been a long morning!

Eothain smiled broadly back at his old childhood friend, and sought an idea to cheer the man up.

“You make a fine King, Sire,” he boomed, slapping the weary monarch on the shoulder, “Come, the weather is dry, let us ride out to the East Fields, as we did when we were young. We have a few hours of light left yet”.

Eomer narrowed his eyes, turning the appealing idea over in his head.

“I have work I should attend to here, Eowyn would have me check over the trading accounts with her and then …” he stopped mid-sentence, a look of boyhood mischief glinting in his eyes. “The East Fields--that is a good gallop.”

“Aye, and if you remember, the tavern in the hamlet there serves a good cider my lord,” added Eothain, winking cheekily. “Ledger and book can wait. You are the King now, you may do as you wish.”

“Aye, one would think so, but my sister would not thank you for saying it. She will be in a strop if I neglect her this afternoon,” replied Eomer seriously.

“Sire, are you saying you are afraid of Lady Eowyn?” teased Eothain.

“Are you saying you are not?” challenged the king, looking directly at his Marshal.

Eothain put his hands up in the air and laughed loudly.

“Indeed I am wary of her my lord, I have suffered at the end of your sister’s tongue lashings on many occasions, as you well know! I still don’t think she has ever forgiven me for pushing her into the brook all those years ago.”

“Aye, well, the mud did not come out of her hair for days, you are lucky you only got an ear bashing from her. She had a mighty kick when she was younger, and did not spare me that knowledge,” joked Eomer.

“Aye, perhaps, but then she did tell my father!” replied Eothain, raising his eyebrows and wincing animatedly. “Shall I have the horses saddled my lord?”

*******************

The sky was clear as the two friends rode out through the gates, Eomer’s spirits lifted already by the freedom of the illicit afternoon. It was fine weather for a ride, cool and dry, the horse’s feet surefooted on the firm ground. Picking up speed as they went, Eomer pushed his horse into a gallop at the first opportunity, urging the great beast on and on, his heart singing with the sensation of freedom and speed. Firefoot did not disappoint and galloped eagerly across the fields, the horse himself glad to be reunited with his carefree master of old. Eventually, the riders slowed their horses to a walk and made their way through the fields to the little tavern that had been a favourite of their youth.

“My lord, you do not regret your decision then?” gasped Eothain, pulling his horse up next to the king’s. “You rode like the wind, I could not hope to keep up with you.”

Eomer laughed and slapped his horse affectionately on the shoulder.

“Eothain, I regret nothing! I know Firefoot was eager for it too and I could not hold him back. This was indeed a good idea, my friend.”

“Let us hope your sister shares your views when we return my lord.”

Eomer roared laughing and shook his head.

“You were ever the optimist Eothain,” Eomer shouted, as he once again trotted off ahead at the welcoming sight of the inn. The two friends soon found themselves inside the cosy hostelry, and were served and seated in a quiet corner without too much fuss, enjoying one another’s simple company, their silent thoughts filling their heads. Eventually, Eomer spoke.

“You are to take a wife I hear? Mairen?”

“Aye, my lord,” beamed Eothain, his happiness clear for all to see.

You have spoken with her father then?”

“Yes, he has granted his permission, and we are to wed next month.”

“I am pleased for you, though how you persuaded Skeld to give his eldest daughter to you is beyond me!” teased Eomer. “The girl is too much of a high prize for a reprobate such as you.”

“Perhaps my promotion to Marshal may have influenced him a little, Sire, in addition to the king’s generous offer of a house,” grinned Eothain, signalling with his hand for the barman to bring them more ale.

“Mairen is a fine maiden, she will make you a good wife Eothain. You are a lucky man.”

“Aye, I know. I will make her a good husband, she will want for nothing, … after all, she will share my bed,” replied Eothain, a glint of humour lighting up his dark brown eyes.

Eomer shook his head and laughed, taking another sip of his beer.

“You will be a father before the next harvest is brought in, I will wager.”

“Perhaps, my lord. We have a long winter ahead of us, and a cold bed is no company for man, or king.” Eothain looked mischievously at his old friend before adding, “Although I hear tell you intend to fill your bed with a long time acquaintance. Is it true what they say, that you will make her your wife and queen?” Eothain smirked cruelly (?) at the young king.

Eomer shot his friend a look and growled.

“You may find this amusing Eothain, but I do not! And neither did my sister! I had to suffer her teasing for days afterwards. That boy has a lot to answer for.”

Eothain chuckled, as he remembered the night of the feast, and the embarrassment of his friend.

“He meant no harm, Sire, I am sure. He is only young and obviously still an innocent. Have you spoken with him about … Well, you know, men’s needs and…women… like Bryn. Does he understand? ” Eothain asked, dropping his voice to a low whisper. Eomer took a deep breath and nodded to his friend.

“Aye, he does now. I told him exactly what Theodred told me at his age and I never had a problem understanding after that. In fact the knowledge served me very well in later years, if you remember?” Eomer mouth broke into a smile as the two men recalled days gone by and their youthful exploits with the opposite sex! Eventually, they ceased their hearty laughing and drained their tankards of cider.

“I see you still have the poor lad on stable duties?” Eothain said, wiping a tear from his eye.

“I do, and there he will stay until he learns his lesson,” replied Eomer, his face serious once more.

“He did not look very happy this morning when I went to fetch the horses. Mind you, he was cleaning away a heap of horse shit! I did not envy him the task,” Eothain, added cruelly.

Eomer smirked.

“Where is the lad’s family? Does he have no one that they would send him here?” enquired the Marshal seriously.

“Apparently not. His father was a cousin of the late Steward. I am told he died before the lad was born and his mother died a few years ago. Lord Faramir’s father took him into his household to live under his care, and made him his ward, though why is a mystery to all. The Lord Denethor was not a man of kindly gestures from all accounts. Faramir has inherited the responsibility for him, and I suspect he is equally at ill at ease with what to do with the lad as the rest of us.”

“Tis a sad tale, a boy needs a father,” said Eothain seriously.

Eomer reflected on his friend’s comment. He had never given thought to this fact before, and remembering how much he had missed his own father when he died, his heart began to soften towards the boy. When his own parents had died, Eomer and his sister had not suffered one night of doubt as to who would care for them; King Theoden had opened up his heart and his home and had gladly taken them in. But Eomer had to acknowledge that the boy was no fool and knew he was at best an ‘inconvenience’, and at worst entirely unwanted by the young Steward. Turning over these thoughts in his head, Eomer accepted that perhaps he was a bit too harsh with the lad sometimes, but then the boy was arrogant, he reasoned, and disobedient! Yet, for all that, Eomer found himself growing to like the lad. He had spent a lot of time with him these last few months teaching him to ride and was quite proud of his pupil’s progress. Perhaps two weeks of extra stable duties was punishment enough, he conceded. Yes, he would tell the boy tonight.

Bidding the people farewell, the king and his Marshall made for home. The weather was still dry, but the afternoon sun had dropped low and the chill of night was settling in the valleys. Eomer pushed his horse hard, savouring the final few miles of his afternoon adventure. He would do this again he decided. It felt good to be free of the trappings of his office, and pretend, if only for a few hours, that he was once again, the young carefree Third Marshall of the Riddermark.

By the time they reached Edoras, the light was fading fast. Torches had been lit on the gate towers, illuminating their path home. The king dismounted and led his horse into the quiet stable, brushing away offers of help from one of the young stable lads. He pulled the saddle off Firefoot and threw it over the pommel stand. Leading the horse into its stall, he observed the clean fresh straw that was strewn about the floor, and the fresh hay and clean water that was neatly laid out for his return. Eomer knew this was Danimir’s work, for he had given him that responsibility himself all those months ago, and the lad had worked hard to please. He closed the door to the stall and left the horse in the care of the waiting lad.

************

When he went to his chamber to change, Eomer was surprised to see the door of the schoolroom ajar and candle light spilling out. Curious as to who was in there, Eomer popped his head around the door to see the boy sitting at his desk, a book propped open before him.

“What have we here, a secret scholar?” teased the king, pushing the door open wider, to reveal the tutor, also at his desk. Both tutor and boy stood up respectfully and bowed before Eomer, surprised by his arrival.

“My lord,” the tutor said respectfully, motioning for the boy to sit down again and continue his task. “I regret that I have cause to keep Master Danimir late at his work.” Eomer looked over at the boy who blushed and dropped his head down in shame. “The boy is lazy and has failed to finish the work I set him, and I have regrettably had to punish him,” explained the old tutor, tapping the long thin switch against his leg. “He will finish the piece of writing before he is excused for the night.”

Eomer looked over at his ward and sighed angrily, his jaw tight with anger. The boy was a picture of misery, and shifted uncomfortably on the chair, his head low, avoiding the king’s eye. Eomer could see the sad eyes and the slump of the shoulders to know well enough that Danimir was exhausted and stood little chance of finishing any scholarly pursuits this night

Striding into the room, Eomer marched up to the boy and towering over him, pulled the young lad up by his arm, and pushed him towards the door. Dan let out a gasp, afraid of what the king would do to him, conscious of his lord’s stern face.

“Sir, this boy’s lessons have ended for the day!” Eomer roared angrily. “He is thirteen years old for pity’s sake, can you not see he is tired and obviously in no state to learn anything at this late an hour!” Eomer, glared fiercely at the old tutor, his demeanour obvious he would brook no argument over this. Dan looked at the king, shocked by his unexpected defence of him, and then at the tutor, who wore a similar look of shock to Dan.

“But my Lord, Danimir has not completed…” the tutor began to protest, but seeing the look of anger on Eomer’s face, let his words fall silent.

“Lord Danimir has been hard at work since before you even stirred from your bed, I’ll wager,” seethed Eomer, giving the tutor a look to silence him immediately, “ There will be NO more lessons this day!

Dan’s heart sang when he heard the King call him Lord Danimir, he never addressed him by his title, usually it was just ‘boy’. He looked over at the tutor, whose face had turned scarlet at the dressing down from the king, and he wanted to smirk, but thought better of it, and satisfied himself with just watching the man’s obvious embarrassment.

“As you wish my lord,” the tutor said, bowing before the king.

Eomer nodded curtly, and then turned, pushing the boy out of the room and along the corridor. He watched the boy walk stiffly along, obviously sore from his encounter with the switch! Eomer smiled as he caught sight of the lad trying to rub away some of the sting as they went.

“Will you be able to sit down at table?” teased Eomer, raising his eyebrow.

Dan felt his cheeks blush and he pouted sullenly, “Yes sir.”

Eomer put his arm around the lad affectionately and laughed. “Good! For I may well be in need of you defending me tonight, little one.”

Dan looked up at the king and frowned, unsure of what he meant.

“My lord? How could I defend you sir, you are the king… you are not afraid of anyone?”

Eomer stared down at the young boy and chuckled, then leaning down to reach Dan’s height he whispered quietly,

“There is one who even I am afraid to cross, Master Danimir,” began Eomer, as he turned the boy around to see Eowyn entering the room, her face obviously displaying her displeasure at her brother’s missed appointment. “If the lady Eowyn can bring a king to heel, then your kinsman, the Steward of Gondor, will fare no better, I fear,” said Eomer in jest, patting the boy on the shoulder. Eomer pulled himself up to full height and took a deep breath, giving the young lad a wink. “Come, let us face this like true Rohirrim… For Lord and Land, Danimir,” said Eomer, pushing the boy into the room BEFORE him!


Chapter 6 - "You are a defiant brat indeed!"

With thanks for Japete and Kime who kindly left reviews... it is really nice to know someone out there is reading this story!




Dan sat patiently at his desk, waiting to be excused from his morning lessons. Outside he could hear the whoops and shouts of children; the first heavy snowfall of winter had arrived in Edoras the day before.

The village boys had made plans to take a sledge and go out into the valley where the snow lay deepest on the hills; Leod had told him of the great ice slides that could be made, and Dan, unused to such adventures, was desperate to go with them. Eager to be free and join in the fun, the youth looked anxiously at the old tutor who sat behind his desk, examining the translation that Dan had just completed – again! Dan began to tap the table from a mixture of nerves and impatience, but a stern look from the tutor soon stilled his hand. Eventually, after some agonising minutes the tutor nodded his head, giving the sign that the lesson was finished for the day and the young Lord of Gondor was free to go. Pushing his chair back noisily, the boy bowed respectfully, before taking his leave with great haste. Once outside the room, Dan ran the whole length of the hall, and down the steps into the winter wonderland, rejoicing in his afternoon of freedom.

“Dan!” a young voice shouted from within a crowd of boys, all busily making a stockpile of snowballs.

Dan ran over, pulling on a thick woollen vest as he went, his feet crunching in the crisp white snow.

“At last little lord, we thought you were never to be set free!” joked the youth, “how long can it take to learn your letters?”

“My tutor made me copy all my work out again – and yet I had made only one mistake!”

“I am glad my father does not make me learn letters, I would hate to be sat in there all morning when there is all this snow to make merry with,” replied Leod, squashing a snowball down the back of Dan’s neck.

“Aghhhhh!” screamed Dan at the sudden cold.

“Look, we have some sitting ducks to aim for, “said Leod nodding in the direction of the Royal Guard which stood on sentry duty at the doors to the great hall.

Dan grinned wickedly as he picked up a snowball and cupped it in his hands,

“They will not be able to give chase either!” he replied as he pulled his arm back and threw the snowball with force at the target.

Leod gasped out loud, the smile on his face vanishing as he saw the snowball miss the guard, instead hitting the back of the king’s head who just happened to pass through the doors at that moment.

Dan laughed aloud not realising yet who the recipient of the unlucky snowball was. He giggled, holding his stomach, as the man turned around shaking the cold and wet snow from his hair.

“Ha! T’was a good shot!” Dan laughed; ready to run if necessary from the soldier, his face suddenly becoming aghast as the identity of the man was revealed. Eomer glared angrily at his ward

“DANIMIR! To me, now!”

Dan took in a deep breath and bit his lip, as he nervously made his way over to the wet and angry king of Rohan.

“I beg pardon My Lord, I did not know it was you . . . I thought you were one of the Royal Guard,”

Eomer looked down on the youth, the side of his face bore a red patch from where the snowball had struck, he did not look amused!

“So you think it is acceptable to terrorise my warriors with your games!” exclaimed the king, his face stern and serious.

“W …Well, they are easy targets sir, they cannot give chase, … if they are on sentry duty,” said Dan quietly, as he lowered his eyes to avoid Eomer’s gaze.

“Yet you will see I am NOT on sentry duty boy and therefore at liberty to deal with you here and now,”

Dan gulped, embarrassed of what the king may do to him in front of all his friends, he stared at the floor, his hands moving nervously at his side. The rest of the boys all stood in silence, looking anxiously at the exchange. There was hushed silence as all in the square waited to witness the fate of the boy from Gondor.

“I am sorry sir,”

“Oh you will be!” shot back Eomer in terse tones, his voice falling silent before he added, “look at me!

Dan winced and raised his head slowly expecting to see the strict face of the king, but instead he saw the king’s eyebrow cocked in a look of amusement

“How fast can you run boy?” asked Eomer, bending down and gathering a great handful of snow, the mischief in his eyes clear for all to see, as he formed a great snowball between his hands.

“Very fast sir,” replied the boy, a smile of relief breaking across his face as he realised his Lord was jesting.

“Then you had best make haste,” said the king taking aim.

Dan turned from the king and began to run, but he did not reckon for the deep snow that soon slowed down his escape, his boots sinking into it, causing him to stumble. Eomer laughed at the sight of the struggling boy, and then set off in pursuit, his long legs easily outmatching the youth.

“You are going to get very wet little lord” boomed the king, as he threw several snowballs straight at the youth, hitting him repeatedly on the head and back.

“Owwww!”

Dan reached down into the snow and threw another, this time hitting Eomer on the chest,

“Ha!” he laughed, running off once again.

Many of the villagers all turned from their work to see the amusing spectacle of their king dodging snowballs as he chased the boy through the square. When eventually the child was caught and brought down, a cheer from the soldiers watching rang out.

“You are going to get what you deserve,” began Eomer, taking handfuls of snow and pushing it down the front and back of Dan’s shirt. “This is revenge for all my men!” he laughed, as he rubbed a great handful of snow in the young boy’s face

“Aghh, no, …it cold…aghhhh . . . ” complained the boy, struggling to escape this torment as the snow filled his mouth. He tried to get up, but was held firmly in place by the king’s strong arms.

“Lost for words little one?” teased Eomer, laughing along with his men who had followed their Lord through the village. Eomer finished by pulling the struggling boy up by his collar and pushing a great handful of snow down the back of his breeches then giving him a firm swot to his backside.

“Next time you throw a snowball at anyone on sentry duty you will answer to me!”

Dan reached back with his hands as the snow filled his pants; slivers of ice ran down his legs, the soaking complete.

“Aghhh, . . .I’ll remember that sir,” he replied pulling the wet breeches away from his body.

Eomer laughed heartily, and slapped the youth on the back. Dan smiled, shaking the last of the snow from his clothes; his cheeks flushed pink with the chill of the day.

“Take yourself and your band of troublemakers over there,” Eomer nodded in the direction of the group of boys, “and go play your games elsewhere.”

Eomer turned to leave, the boy following closely behind,

“We have a sledge and we are going to ride it down the hill in the valley, Leod says there is a great ice run, “ began Dan excitedly walking along besides his liege lord.

Eomer stopped and turned back to the boy a look of concern on his face.

“The East fields are out of bounds to all boys, Leod should know that, his father will have his hide if he catches him going near there!”

Dan looked worriedly at the king,

“But we will be back before dark My Lord,”

“There have been reports of Orcs in that area.”

“B...But...”

“I will not argue with you boy! You are forbidden to go near that valley, any of you!” Eomer swung his words in the direction of the boys waiting across the square.

“But, Leod says EVERYONE goes there to run their sledges, it is not fair!” Dan complained bitterly shaking his head, “I have been waiting all morning to go! I have completed all my lessons and everything…please sir, we will be careful,” Dan pleaded.

“If I hear you have disobeyed me in this Danimir, you can expect a sound thrashing!” threatened the king. “Do you heed me boy?”

Dan pouted, his stance defiant as he crossed his arms and stared ahead, struggling to find the words to answer.

“YES!” he answered eventually.

Eomer raised an eyebrow in warning.

“Yes sir,” repeated Dan, this time more respectfully.

“Good, now be off with you before I find you something to do. And do not be late back, my sister has a special supper planned, you will remember the last time I was foolish enough to miss an appointment with her my ears rang for days afterwards,” the King mused, walking away towards the stables, rubbing once more on the wet spot at the back of his head.

******

By the time the boys reached the valley, all were convinced it was a bad idea. The king himself had forbidden them to go and yet they had ignored him, sneaking off undetected. Dan shivered, both from the cold and from the uneasy feeling he had sensed when he entered the valley. The snow lay deep and undisturbed and the place was silent. The sky above was white; it was as if they were a million miles from Edoras, exposed and alone.

“It is up there, look!” said one of the boys pointing to the ice run that had been formed high up on one of the hills.

Dan looked up and smiled at the glittering slide of ice.

“Tis awesome!” he said, staring in wonder at this strange new sight.

A wide sheet of ice had formed from one of the many little streams that ran from the mountains, creating a perfect slide right down the side of the snow covered hill. All the boys looked at each other and beamed, then without speaking they all took to the hill, all thoughts of doubt and worry gone from their mind.

Dragging the sledge up behind them, the boys reached the top and positioned it precariously at the edge of the run.

“Who will go first?”

All the boys looked at one another and then at the drop, each surveying the other’s faces for any sign of fear.

“I think Dan should go first, it is his first winter in Rohan!” said Leod, handing Dan the rope of the sledge. Hesitating briefly, Dan took the rope and trying to appear brave, immediately sat himself down on the wooden sledge, tucking his legs into the board in front. He peered over the edge of the drop, butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he took in the sheer decent before him. Leod smiled wickedly,

“See you at the bottom!”

Dan felt the sledge being pushed and before he could protest it was over the edge and shooting down the hill at brake neck speed. Dan let out a yell of delight as the sensation of speed filled him, his long dark hair flying back in the wind, his hands gripping tightly on the rope, the sledge hurtling on and on towards the bottom of the hill.

The others looked on from the top, clapping and shouting behind him as he came to a stop at a deep snow bank.

“Danimirrrrrrrr!”

Dan stood up, grinning wildly,

“I would not have missed that for anything!” he shouted back, pulling the sledge behind him as he made his way back up the hill for more!

******

Eowyn was in the kitchens preparing for the feast when one of the young maids came running into the room out of breath and panting, she ran over to her mistress to inform Eowyn hysterically that the young lad from Gondor had been badly injured whilst out in the valley.

“He is covered in blood they say, and I saw a guard carrying him up the steps. Oh my Lady, he is terribly injured, they have taken him to his room,”

Eowyn stared at the maid in shock, her stomach turning as she remembered the last time she had seen a man brought home injured - her cousin Theodred bleeding and dying before her eyes. She let out a loud shriek and clasping her hand to her mouth, she ran from the kitchens to the lad’s room to find him lying on the bed, his face and clothes splattered with blood. Eowyn gripped the side of the bed and looked in horror at the guard.

“What has happened?” She gasped, taking in the sight before her.

“He collided with a tree by all accounts my Lady,” answered the guard who had helped the lad home.

“A tree! How badly is he injured?” Eowyn asked, pulling away at Danimir’s clothes, searching his body frantically for any wounds, her hands pulling open his shirt, but there were no wounds to be found. Eowyn looked in confusion to the guard.

“It looks worse than it is My Lady, it is more his pride that has taken a knock I would say. I found him on my patrol and brought him straight back here. Stupid fools, they were warned not to go up there, only last month a woman from one of the villages was killed in that valley by orcs.”

“Orcs!”

The guard nodded,

“Aye, we have been tracking them for weeks now” he replied picking up his sword from the side of the bed, “I must get back to my patrol My Lady, I will bid you good day.” he added before giving a quick bow and leaving the room.

Eowyn turned to look at Dan once more. She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally realised his wounds were only superficial and he had suffered naught but a bloodied nose. Eowyn shook her head,

“What were you doing you stupid fool, look at the state of you,” she snapped, her anger born out in relief that the lad was unharmed. “I was told you were mortally injured, and yet I find you have nothing more than a bloodied nose!”

Dan pulled himself up on the bed and grimaced at the abrasion to his hand.

“I could not stop the sledge, it just went out of control and ploughed into the tree,” he replied trying to wipe the blood from his face with the back of his sleeve.

Eowyn huffed angrily. She dipped the cloth into the bowl of water that the servant held besides her and wiped away at the young lad’s face, scowling and muttering at him as she cleaned his scratches none too gently.

“Oww!” complained the youth, frowning at Eowyn, “that hurts.”

“Good!”

Dan tried to pull away from her as Eowyn dabbed salve at the scratches on his face and hands, complaining as the ointment stung his wounds,

“Owww…. Ai…it stings.”

“You cry like a baby!” She admonished sharply, and continued in her task, unperturbed by Dan’s objections. When she was satisfied with her efforts, she passed the salve to the servant and gave instruction that a clean shirt was to be brought for the boy to change into. Dan reluctantly took off his soiled clothes and quickly put on a clean shirt, all the time warily looking at Eowyn who was still visibly cross with him.

“I am starving.”

Ignoring Dan’s comment, Eowyn bundled the soiled clothes up and passed them to the servant.

“Can I have some food?...Can I go to the kitchens?”

“Take these and put them to soak. Tell cook we shall take supper in an hour.” Eowyn instructed the servant curtly.

“But I am hungry now…. I want something to eat before I die,” grumbled Dan loudly climbing down from the bed.

Eowyn, her head aching from the tension and shock, finally snapped,

“You could have been KILLED today, if not by a tree then by an orc! I could have been laying you out for your funeral instead of washing your wounds. I have seen too much of death to know how it feels, to smell the stench of blood - and now you ask me for FOOD!” She shouted, staring frighteningly at Danimir.

Dan gulped. He was well aware of Eowyn’s temper, but he had yet to experience it first hand himself! He sat back down on the edge of the bed and bit his lip. The atmosphere was tense as Eowyn fought to control her emotions whilst Dan sat in complete silence.

“I could hear you shouting from across the passage. I wondered which poor male had incurred your wrath.”

Dan gasped aloud at the sight of the king standing in the doorway, his arms wrapped across his chest, a smirk playing on his lips.

Eowyn spun on her heels at the sound of her brother’s voice; her face deadly serious. She was in no mood for her brother’s teasing this day!

“Do you see this, do you?” She said gesturing towards the bed where Dan lay. “Your ward nearly got himself killed today! How many more of my kin am I expected to prepare for a funeral?”

Dan’s face went pale at the thought of Eomer becoming involved in all of this and uneasy feelings filled his stomach.

“… I am fine… honestly, it was nothing, just a bloodied nose,” he began edging himself off the bed eager to escape the room and any questions the king might ask.

Eowyn stared at her brother, her chin held high.

Eomer walked up to the bed,

“You look like you have been to battle little one?” teased Eomer playfully.

“It was just an accident sir, I fell and banged my nose, that is all” Dan replied trying to be purposely vague about the whole thing.

Eomer took hold of the boy’s face and examined it moving the head from side to side.

“Tis nothing more than a scratch Eowyn, he will live.”

Eowyn let out a loud snort,

“Is that all you are going to say?”

“What do you want me to say?” replied Eomer, his voice rising as he held up his hands, “I have things to attend to and I suggest you do the same and stop fussing over him.” Eomer made to leave, but was pulled back by Eowyn’s hand.

“Eomer! It is your duty to care for this child and yet you are going to say nothing to him! You should…. punish him!” Eowyn pointed to the boy.

Dan, all the time growing increasingly nervous began to bite his bottom lip and move towards the door.

“Do NOT remind me of my duty, lady, I am well aware of my responsibilities!” Boomed Eomer, glaring angrily at his sister. “So now you want me to punish him! Any other time I try to take the boy to task you run to his defence like a mother hen! What do you want me to do, thrash him for falling over?”

Neither noticed the young boy almost at the door, so wrapped up as they were in their argument.

“You are responsible for his safety! Aren’t you going to tell him off at least? He could have been killed today!”

“What are you talking about woman?” answered Eomer, irritated by his sister’s apparent over reaction to the lad’s tumble. “He has a bloodied nose that is all; he will not DIE from it! You are being ridiculous Eowyn.”

Eowyn seethed,

“I AM being ridiculous? So what about the threat from orcs?”

“What orcs?

“The guard said there were orcs sighted out there, he at least seemed to be concerned over the boy’s safety, even if you are not!”

“Guard? Eowyn what exactly are you talking about?” asked Eomer, confusion showing on his face.

Eowyn sighed heavily,

“The guard said there had been sightings of orcs in the east fields…. That is where he found Danimir.”

Dan cringed at the last few words and stopped dead in his tracks as he felt Eomer’s hand grip his shoulder. He let out a little squeak as Eomer pulled him back into the room.

******

Dan sat as best he could on the hard chair. He ate his food in silence; the thrashing he had received from the king had somewhat taken the edge off his appetite. He looked down at his plate and ached for what he had done. Eomer had been livid at being disobeyed when he discovered Dan had gone to the valley and an almighty row had broken out….

“YOU DISOBEYED ME!” the king had shouted in disbelief, “I gave you word that you were forbidden to go anywhere near that place only this morning – you are a defiant brat indeed!” Dan had tried to plead his case but Eomer would have none of it.

“I told you to expect a thrashing if you went near that valley!” Turning to his sister in fury he pushed the red faced child before her.

“So you want me to punish him! I will oblige you most willingly my lady,” Eomer had shouted, unbuckling his belt. Dan had felt his stomach lurch and had looked pleadingly at Eowyn who now stood impotent, her earlier anger dissipating fast.

“I am sorry,” offered Dan desperately as he was dragged towards the bed.

“You disobeyed me once before Danimir, the day you went to the boat house, well this time you will learn your lesson!” Replied the king, folding his belt over double as he instructed Dan to drop his breeches and bend over the end of the bed.

“Brother! Perhaps you are too hasty…I will admit I got a fright at seeing him covered in blood, but I think a thrashing may be too harsh.” Eowyn had reasoned trying to stay her brother’s hand. “He has been injured…his face will bruise.”

“Not as much as his backside will after I have leathered him,” relied Eomer turning to face his sister. “I think you should leave us Eowyn, this is between man and boy, tis no place for a woman.”

Dan frantic to escape the impending doom, calculated that it would be better to appeal to Eowyn rather than Eomer,

“My Lady. . . I am sorry; truly sorry…I won’t go to that valley ever again… I promise.”

Eowyn had looked worriedly at the lad and then her brother,

“Eomer…”

“Sister, take your leave. I will not be swayed upon this; the lad will face the consequences. I will not neglect my duty to discipline him.” Eomer had replied gruffly before snapping at Dan once more to ready himself.

Dan had watched in horror as Eowyn, unable to influence her brother had stormed from the room abandoning him to Eomer’s wrath.

The beating had been hard and swift. Dan had never been thrashed with a belt before and the effect of leather on skin had brought tears to his eyes after the first stroke fell. By the time the sixth and final stroke of the belt had landed, Dan was sobbing into his aloud the pain in his backside too much to bear silently.

“You can get up now,” Eomer instructed as he refastened his belt around his waist all the time staring at the young boy before him. Dan stood up straight and quickly reached down for his breeches, sniffling as he pulled them up, he looked sadly at Eomer.

“Next time you think of going near that valley without permission, remember the pain that my belt imparts – that should stop you from doing anything so foolish and dangerous again.”

Dan looked up at the king, his face wet with tears as he struggled with his hands to tie up his breeches,

“Y...Yes s...sir.” he replied trying to stem his sobs. He put his hands back and touched his backside tentatively, sighing soulfully.

Eomer, for all his stern appearance, felt a degree of sympathy for the child. He remembered himself what it was like to suffer a sound thrashing. His uncle, cousin, and even Gambling had all imparted their displeasure on him in his younger days by way of a belt – he knew that young Dan would be suffering for the next few days. Eomer walked over to the young boy and pattered him affectionately on the shoulder,

“You took your punishment well, learn from it boy…that was its purpose.” Eomer spoke quietly and with compassion. He gave Dan one last pat to his back before walking over to the door, where he turned, giving the lad a last glance before leaving, “I will expect you at the supper table tonight, take this time to think on what I have said.”

Eomer left the room, leaving Dan to his thoughts…

Dan looked up at last from his plate and surveyed the scene before him. There were many faces sat at table this night to celebrate the start of the Yule festivals, all of them smiling and laughing merrily. The king, dressed now in formal robes was talking away to Gambling who had joined the family for this special occasion. They were both recounting old tales to which all present laughed and cheered. Eowyn was smiling at their amusing tale too, her sweet face illuminated by the candles that shot shadows across the warm room. She looked regularly over at Dan and smiled happily at him. No one seemed to be angry or vexed with him any longer; it was as if the incident were forgotten already.

Dan put a piece of sweet cake into his mouth and contemplated his life in Edoras. Apart from the throbbing pain in his backside, it was a perfect end to a perfect day. He had ridden the ice slide and it had been exhilarating! Never, in all his years in Gondor had he done anything so exciting, never had he had so many friends! He knew he had paid dearly for his disobedience, but he did not regret it …he would not have missed his afternoon in the valley for anything. And now here he sat, admonished, but clearly forgiven, his belly full and his presence at the table welcomed. There were no sour moods or scowling looks to contemplate, it was all very different from his life in the Stewards’ House. Denethor would have scolded him for days and days, constantly reminding him of his misbehaviour and bringing it up at every opportunity. The king would not admonish him again… well, not until next time he misbehaved!

Dan liked it here…in fact he knew now he never wanted to leave.


Chapter 7 - "The Fearless Warrior"

Chapter 7


Dan woke up early the next morning and grinned to himself with excitement. At the supper table the night before the king had acquiesced, after some gentle persuasion from Eowyn and a good deal of wine to soften his mood, agreeing to take Dan along on the Yule Hunt the next day.

The lad had been ecstatic when Eomer had said he could go; suddenly finding his voice and asking endless questions about what weapons they would use, and which animals they would hunt and how they would follow a trail until at last Eomer, eager for some respite from the chattering lad, had ordered Dan to bed. Disgruntled and pouting at this untimely implementing of his bedtime, he had nevertheless taken his leave and retired to his room, the ache in his backside reminding him not to push his guardian too far.

After his stable duty, which he completed in record time, Dan sought out the Stable Master for permission to take his leave and go up to the hall for his breakfast.

“You are cheerful this morning young sir,” enquired the old man, checking over Firefoot’s stall.

“I am to join the men on the hunting trip,” beamed Dan, unable to hide his youthful excitement.

“That is an honour indeed,” replied the Stable Master as he scanned his young helper’s work critically. Picking up the empty water bucket he thrust it into the boy’s hand with a look of exasperation, “horse going to fetch its own water is it?”

“Oh…sorry!” Exclaimed Dan sheepishly as he realised his error and ran outside to fill the bucket from the well. The dawn was up and the winter sky was clear and crisp, a perfect day for a hunt Dan concluded as he hurried back in with the bucket, water slopping all over the stone flags of the stable floor. The Stable Master gave an exasperated sigh,

“Pass it here! Get yourself up to the hall, you are no good to me this morning, your mind is not on your work.”

Dan passed the half empty bucket of water to the old man, a look of nervous anticipation on his face,

“Sorry… I erm...”

“Be off with you… and make sure you behave yourself on this hunt.” He took the bucket and placed it down noting the puddles of water that spoilt the otherwise orderly and clean stables and sighed again.

“I will, I promise,” replied the boy solemnly before turning and running out of the stable and up the path to the hall.

****



Eomer sat at the table and held his head in his hands. The disapproving look of his sister said it all!

“Sister, your words may be silent, but your stare alone is enough to make my head pound.”

Eowyn snorted,

“I would think your head is pounding enough without any help from me! You have only yourself to blame brother,” she said smugly as she served her brother his breakfast, setting down a bowl of steaming oats before him. “You drank too much wine last night.”

“Yes - I KNOW!” snapped Eomer irritably as he picked up the bowl and sneered, “What is this?”

“Porridge, eat it, it will help line your stomach and keep you warm for the hunt.”

“I am not an infant Eowyn,” he exclaimed petulantly as he shoved the bowl childishly across the table. “I will have a man’s breakfast,”

Eowyn shook her head and gave her brother another disapproving look as she turned to one of the servants,

“Bring the king some bread and meat… it seems my lord cannot stomach porridge this morning,” said Eowyn sarcastically to one of the young serving maids.

Eomer gave his sister a dark scowl, his temper already frayed he was in no mood for her taunting this morning, and even less in the mood for boys that RAN through the hall!

“WALK!” he barked without even turning his head to see who the culprit was.

Dan stopped in his tracks and stood hesitating on the spot, grimacing at the reprimand.

“What have I told you about running in the hall?”

“I…I beg pardon my lord,” replied the lad nervously looking over at Eowyn for aid.

“Come and eat Danimir, you have a long day ahead of you,” said Eowyn kindly to the boy as she pulled out his chair.

Dan walked the rest of the way over to the table at a respectable pace, sat down slowly and carefully glanced sideways at Eomer’s stern face.


Eowyn set out a bowl of porridge before the boy and passed him a spoon.

He looked at the thick sticky mixture of oats, his nose wrinkling in disgust,

“Porridge? But . . . I do not like porridge.”

“It is good for you, eat it,” replied Eowyn quietly as she striped the leaves from a bunch of herbs hurriedly.

“Can I not have some eggs…or even some bacon?” ventured Dan optimistically.

Eomer, suffering badly from a hangover, was in no mood to pander to the boy’s whims as he rubbed his temples,

“EAT IT!” He snapped, giving the lad a stern look.

Dan picked up his spoon and with much reluctance began to eat the offending porridge, grimacing at the taste.

Eowyn rolled her eyes, tut-tutting in disapproval of her brother’s temper,

“You are like a warg with a sore head!” She admonished, brewing up a tea of lemon balm, “I take it you are still going hunting then?”

Eomer gave his sister a deep frown, took a piece of bread and cheese from his platter and stuffed it in his mouth roughly,

“Your disapproval is more than evident little sister,” he replied with growing annoyance. “Are you suggesting I am not fit to hunt?”

Eowyn looked on superciliously,

“You are the king now Eomer, you may do as you see fit, although the men will be looking for their new king to bag the first deer and I fail to see how you can do that when you can barely hold your head up!” Eowyn smiled sweetly at her brother, knowing she had railed him as she passed the tincture of tea to him.

Dan looked from one to the other, listening to the banter going back and forth across the table as he tried to dispose of the remaining porridge in his bowl to one of Eomer’s hunting dogs.

The king growled as he took the cup from Eowyn and downed the foul concoction in one, banging the cup down on the table he looked at his ward and barked, “Have you finished that yet?”

Dan pulled his dish back from the dog’s mouth and slid it under the table,

“Y… Yes”

“Good! Then let us be gone from this hall. I seek the solitude of the mountains, for both my head and my ears will benefit from the peace they offer,” the king said peevishly as he rose from his seat and marched off beckoning the boy to follow. Dan stood up surreptitiously placing the half eaten dish of porridge on his chair; he followed the king from the room.

*****

Danimir was thrilled to be riding out on the Yule Hunt and in his excitement to get going had forgotten his cloak, he ran back through the hall once again to retrieve it.

It was an old Rohan custom to go hunting after the first snows; an ideal time to supplement the meagre winter meat rations for the village.

As the horses and knights assembled on the stable yard outside, Eowyn came down the steps to bid Dan good hunting and gave him a parcel of food for the trip,

“I have packed plenty of food,” she said pushing the parcel into the boy’s hand, “seeing as the dogs ate most of your breakfast!”

Dan let an impish smile slip from his lips as he blushed at being found out.

Eowyn held the horse’s reigns, “The eored awaits you Danimir,” she added softly, the smile on her own face letting him know she was not really angry.

Dan gave Eowyn a broad grin of relief before quickly stuffing the parcel into his pack and mounting his horse, eager to get going, his excitement clear for all to see.

Eowyn chuckled at his antics before wandering off to the front of the line to bid her brother good hunting also. She found Eomer sitting stony faced on Firefoot, his ire already raised by the waiting. Eowyn reached up and offered him a parcel of food,

“A sore head and a short temper… that should make for a long day in the saddle.”

Eomer scowled as he reached down from atop his horse and took the proffered parcel. If anyone else had spoken to him like that he would waste no time in letting them feel his displeasure, but this was Eowyn, the sister whom he loved dearly and so used to her disapproving tongue over the years, he took her scolding in good grace,

“Is the boy ready yet?” he asked gruffly, nodding in the lad’s direction

“Yes, he is ready now, but Eomer… be NICE to him!”

Eomer snorted at his sister’s warning and unable to resist the opportunity to tease her, barked out in an angry voice,

“DANIMIR!”

Eowyn’s smile slid from her face and she glared up at her brother in warning.

“COME UP FRONT - you may ride with me; I have instruction to be NICE to you!” added Eomer, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he bowed his head to her before nudging his horse forward to lead the twelve men and one small boy out of Edoras.

*****

By late afternoon the hunt had reached far into the mountains where the best hunting was to be found. The king had made the first kill and brought down a mighty stag with his bow, eliciting a loud cheer from the eored as superstition dictated that it would bring good fortune to Rohan for the following year. Dan had helped to track the animal and Eomer had showed him how to stalk it, waiting in the undergrowth for the right moment to strike, before the king had loosed his arrow and killed the animal with one shot.

Eomer, now recovered from his earlier hangover had lost his grumpiness along with his headache – he was enjoying himself, lost in the wilderness and silence of the mountain, that is, except for the constant chatter of the boy!

“Danimir, do you never cease with your questions?” Eomer enquired in a loud voice, as he bent down and cleaned his hunting knife of blood in a deep fall of snow by the base of a tree. “There was a time when you first arrived at Edoras when you would not speak! You spent most of your time skulking around the hall, cursing your cousin the Steward for sending you here… am I not right?” Eomer asked teasingly, as he dared the boy to admit to his former faults.

Dan’s first thoughts were to deny the accusation but the mock tone of annoyance on the king’s lips was not lost upon him and instead he nodded, admitting his guilt,

“Aye my lord, I …I did.”

Eomer stood up straight and put the knife back in his sheath,

“You wanted to be here no less than I wanted you here,” replied Eomer in his usual blunt manner. “Yet, here we are halfway through the year and neither one of us is too much the worst for it…well, except for the suffering of my ears!” He added, winking at the young boy.

Dan grinned and without thinking added quickly,

“And the suffering of my backside my lord,”

The king pulled his head back shocked momentarily by his ward’s quip and then slowly broke into a deep belly laugh himself at the boy’s cheekiness,

“I should take you over my knee again young lord for your cheek outstrips your age!” he exclaimed in mock indignation, “The Steward will wonder where his quiet sulking ward has gone to when he returns in the summer.”

“He comes to Edoras to marry Lady Eowyn sire, he has no interest in me . . . I doubt he even remembers I am here,” replied Danimir shrugging his shoulders idly as he picked up the king’s quiver and slung it over his shoulder ready to walk back to the waiting horses.

Eomer did not make comment, but pondered silently to himself if what the boy said held an element of truth, had Faramir forgotten all about his ward?

*****

The hunt went well ensuring enough meat would sit on the tables of Edoras through the cold winter months ahead, the riders happy and fulfilled as they made their way towards the cave that would serve as their camp for the night. Dan was still on a high and even the numb ache in the seat of his pants from his belting the day before could do little to spoil the thrill and enjoyment of his first hunt. As the day drew to a close he lingered near the back of the column, his earlier youthful energy now spent, he was content to sit in silence and listen to the men’s voices, warm and jovial as the eored moved through the forest, the light of the day fading before their eyes.

Once at the cave, Dan slid tiredly from his horse and led it over to where the others were sheltering their beasts for the night. The sky was almost dark and the snow was now crispy and frozen beneath his feet as the chill of the evening set in. Lifting the saddle from his horse Dan took it over to the edge of the cave and threw it down on the floor. It was at that moment that he saw the boar from the corner of his eye scoot across the forest floor, its foraging disturbed, causing it to make a run for the trees. Dan let out a yell of surprise at his discovery and in his excitement grabbed his bow and ran - off into the dark forest without waiting for either permission or help.

Eomer turned his head at the commotion and shouted after the boy to return but it was too late; Dan was determined to bring home the bacon himself! Eomer cursed aloud at the boy’s defiance and was about to go after him when the marshal put his hand up,

“Leave him to me sire,” offered Gambling who had not yet dismounted.

Eomer nodded his approval, confidant in the knowledge that Gambling would sort out the defiant child!

Dan chased the boar through the dark forest, trying to keep it in sight at the same time as trying to nock an arrow, a much harder task than the foolish boy anticipated as he tumbled over a tree root, falling down into a pool of water and losing his weapon in the darkness. He lay dazed on the freezing ground, as the boar came towards him grunting and squealing, its small piggy eyes flashing in the moonlight, saliva drooling from its mouth. Dan scrambled to his knees trying to feel around for his weapon or a stick to fend the wild animal off, his heart racing as it screeched and ran straight for him, its tusks glinting menacingly.

An arrow whistled past the kneeling boy’s head making him gasp as it hit the boar just a few feet from him, eliciting a piercing shriek as it fell over, its breath coming in short grunts as its body rose up and down inches from his face. Gambling jumped from his horse and taking his knife from his boot finished the animal off.

His attention now turned to the Gondorian!

“What in the name of VALAR did you think you were doing?”

Gambling grabbed the kneeling boy by the collar and dragged him up delivering an almighty wallop to his backside,

“Arghhhh!” yelled Dan, struggling to stand up on the slippery ice. “What was that for?”

Gambling, clearly not happy with just the one swot now bent the arrogant lad forward under his arm and lambasted him with half a dozen firm whacks to his backside, clearly felt through the wet and clinging britches. Dan danced on the spot yelping loudly as Gambling re-ignited the fire that the king had set there the night before. The final wallop was delivered with gusto, making Dan YELL!

“OWWWWWWW!… THAT HURT!” He screamed, his hands shooting back to rub frantically at the sting.

“GOOD! - That was the intention,” replied Gambling, glowering at the arrogant child. “You were ordered by the king to stop!”

Dan continued to rub at his throbbing bottom, his earlier excitement and bravery now gone as it was replaced with a scowling look of injustice,

“I wanted to kill it myself …I was not scared,” the last few words came out shakily as he looked at the fierce boar beneath his feet.

“You are a fool and a DEFIANT fool at that! ‘Tis too dark and dangerous to hunt at night and you are TOO young to be doing so on your own! Get back to camp now!” roared Gambling pushing the boy forward roughly.

Dan let out yet another yell as the marshal gave him a further stinging slap to hurry him on his way, both his pride and his backside having taken a battering, he was in no rush to return to the camp and face the music there.

Gambling picked up the dead boar, threw it over his horse, and followed, leading his horse the short distance back to the camp. As they came to the cave Gambling pushed the boy inside with a gruff command and then led his horse over to the others. A fire was now burning brightly, giving the cave a cosy feel as the men milled around preparing food and laying out bed rolls for the night. Dan wandered awkwardly over to the fire eager to warm himself, although truth be told, his backside was already more than heated as he tried unsuccessfully to pull the wet britches away from his skin, wincing at the movement.

“Gambling has a hard hand does he not,” said the King as he walked out of the shadows and stood before his ward; his arms crossed about him.

The boy gulped as he looked up timidly meeting the king’s stern gaze,

“I don’t know what squealed the louder back there in the forest - the BOAR . . . or YOU?”

Dan blushed to the tips of his ears to think that all the men had heard him being taken to task by Gambling and he groaned with embarrassment.

“He had no right to beat me thus . . . I was only trying to hunt the boar.”

“I DISAGREE! I think he should beat you some MORE! You took yourself off without seeking permission AND you put yourself in danger - acts of a foolish and headstrong boy who has no right to be on this hunt if he cannot do as he is TOLD!” Eomer roared, causing all the men to stop what they were doing and stare.

Dan gulped and immediately lost any more thoughts of arguing with his guardian as he squirmed in his shame.

“I beg pardon my lord,” Dan said quietly, his bottom lip quivering at the reprimand.

Eomer surveyed the crestfallen lad for a few moments, who judging by his sorrowful face was obviously regretting his actions. Sighing in exasperation he relented.

“Take those wet things off before you catch a fever.” Eomer threw the boy a blanket. “Wrap yourself in this, hang those britches of yours over there to dry.”

Dan caught the blanket and then hesitated before turning to face the wall and stepping out of his wet clothes.

Eomer caught sight of the lad’s bare backside, still bearing the familiar red handprints of Gambling that he remembered all too well from his own younger days. Eomer smirked at the memory before he turned away to seek out some food.

As the evening wore on a hot stew was soon readied and all sat around the fire eating their fill. As a skin of ale was passed around a feeling of contentment filled the cave as the riders relaxed, tired after a long day in the saddle. Eomer stretched out his long legs and leaned back against the rocks, pleased to be amongst old friends doing what he enjoyed most. He glanced over at Dan who sat huddled before the fire, yawning repeatedly yet valiantly fighting the sleep that his young body so obviously needed. Eomer smiled to himself, his ward was indeed a stubborn brat!

“Does the lad know the tale of these caves?” Asked one of the men, slyly winking at the King, “Has he heard about the Banshee?”

Dan opened his eyes wide and looked over at the rider,

“B…Banshee?”

“Aye little lord, they say she haunts these caves….an evil spirit with a face so hideous that all who let their gaze fall upon her die in terror. She comes in the night, when all are asleep and takes the spirits from the bodies of sleeping men.”

Dan caught his breath and looked around the dim cave. The wind outside howled and he pulled the blanket around him inching nearer to the fire. All the men nodded their heads and looked cautiously at the entrance to the cave. The sky outside was black. Another rider took up the tale,

“They say she wears a long black cloak and moves like a raven through these mountains, hiding in the caves and a forest, seeking out the young . . . for it is their life spirit that she needs to feed her desires.”

At that moment the wind blew into the cave making a wailing sound, Dan gasped and began to shuffle over surreptitiously towards the king. Gambling looked at Eomer and cocked an eyebrow; clearly they had the lad hooked! The riders continued to spin the tale, each adding further ghoulish elements until eventually poor Dan was rooted to the spot in terror, too scared now to even move or speak as he looked pleadingly at Eomer to save him.

“What was that?” Asked Eothain, as he threw a pebble behind Dan’s back causing the terrified lad to shriek like a wild Banshee himself and flee to Eomer, practically throwing himself down upon the King’s lap!

Eomer could not keep his face straight any longer and roaring with laughter, he wrapped his arm protectively around the shaking lad and comforted him.

“Enough!” He said putting up his hand up to try and silence the riders who were now laughing riotously too at poor Dan’s expense. Gambling shook his head and grinned at his king as he remembered a hunt many years ago when a youthful Eomer had fallen for the same tale AND reacted in much the same way. Wiping a tear of mirth from his eye Gambling winked at the lad.

Dan seethed in outrage at their laughter but the angrier he looked the more they laughed and there was little he could do but sit it out and take it in good humour. After a while the joke had run its course and the men made ready for sleep. They took out their bedrolls and began to lay them out around the cave. Dan’s roll was over the other side, away from the king.

“Come little lord, it is time to sleep,” Said Eomer standing up to shake out his blankets, he nodded in the direction of Dan’s bed, “Your bed lies over yonder.”

The lad did not move.

“Danimir! Are you listening to me boy?” Eomer asked, this time pointing to the empty bedroll that lay in the corner of the cave.

Dan looked over at it and bit his lip. He knew the tale was most likely just a ghost story . . . no truth to it…but even so . . . what if . . .? He stood up slowly, but still made no move to leave Eomer’s side.

The king, aware of the hesitating boy began to take off his boots and sword before climbing into his bedroll and pulling the blankets around him. Gambling did the same making his bed up but a few feet from the king’s.

Now left alone, Dan walked very nervously over to his own bed and sat down in the eerie silence. The cave was darker than ever and even though he tried to be brave, he couldn’t help feeling vulnerable and scared. The flames from the dying fire made shadows move along the stone walls and the wind whistled eerily through the entrance.

Eomer lay in the dark waiting. It did not take long.

As the first snores of sleep could be heard, a small figure scurried across the cave dragging something behind him. Eomer opened an eye and smiled smugly as he felt Danimir lay down his bed in the small space besides him and climb in quietly.

Gambling turned over and smirked at the sight of the sleeping boy sandwiched protectively between himself and the king…the fearless hunter indeed!
------------------------------------------------------------------

Printed from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net) on Sat Nov 14, 2026 7:34 pm