Hers

I met many of my men and several villagers as I made my way to the outermost farms. Most had spent the morning culling the loose cattle, sheep, and horses, figuring out whose was whose, how many of the herd were still missing. Several of Elfhelm's men, along with the majority of the boys in the village, were out looking for the strays. I had a feeling that in a few years, there would be an influx of Riders from this portion of the country and considering the haleness and the tenaciousness of the people, they would be a welcome addition.

I was glad She settled here, that She raised our son here in this simple, but wholesome, normally peaceful atmosphere and as I finally entered the fenced path that lead to all that was Hers, I realized I was proud of the woman she had become and that I was proud of the son she raised with so little of my input.

I didn't know if I could fix that. But I was going to try.

I found the apple orchard, saw the open, wide path and as I entered the trees, could hear the sound of the river in the distance. As I made my way out of the shade and into the sunlight of the river. It was crystal clear, sparkling with the reflection of the sun shining. Looking both ways, I saw Edric standing to the north, out on a small dock, with a wooden pole in his hands. As I approached, I caught myself looking for a hammer.

No hammer. Good. I'm safe for now!

Edric's horse, who I recognized, was grazing at the water's edge, the sound of foliage being ripped up from the sludge. I had to smile. The horse's sire had been fond of water plants as well. I stepped beside the powerful equine, noting the familiar lines, the similarities, my hand stroking the neck.

“Watch it,” Edric had his back to me. “His name is Áterlic for good reason.”

“Biter?” I continued to stroke. “Not me, he will not,” I responded good- naturedly. “I know this one. We go way back.” I scratched him behind the ears, a place I remembered he loved as a colt. “Don't we, boy?”

I was aware my son was now watching me closely. “Strange. Anyone else he would have taken their hand off.”

I looked up, seeing a late fall apple hanging above me. Reaching up, I pulled it off and placed at within sight. “I recall, Fireheart, you had a special fondness for apples.” I was amused at the sudden disappearance of the apple from my hand.

Edric was beside me, his fishing pole propped in what appeared to be an open knothole in the wood of the small dock. “What did you call him?”

“I called him Fireheart. It was the name I gave him when he was born.” I refused to look at the boy, caught up in a memory. “He was the last colt my horse, Firefoot, sired.”

It was quiet for a moment, the only sound being that of water, trickling behind us. “Firefoot. Your horse? From the war?”

“Firefoot from the war.”

As I looked over my shoulder, I could see my son's face, deep in thought. My wife often told me when I was deep in through, my brow furrowed. I suspected this was what she saw. “How many-”

“Two colts, one filly.” I nodded over to my steed. “Firestorm was the other. The filly is named Snowblind.” Áterlic was nosing me playfully, looking for more apples, I suspect. “The dam for all three was from the line of Snowmane, Théoden King's stallion. I did not breed Firefoot but the three times. There was no need. Any colt or filly-”

“Would be from the line of the Maeras. The line of kings,” Edric whispered. “That's why he is so cantankerous with others.” His own hand went under the stallion's mane, scratching at a spot the horse seemed to be familiar with. “People think I have a way with horses, because he was easy for me to break.” Again, the look of deep thought. “You really are my father?”

“I really am your father.” There was a noise on the dock. I looked up to see his pole bouncing. “I believe you have a bite. Do you have another pole?”

Edric jumped away, running to the edge. “By the tree. I always bring two.” I took the second, arrived by his side in time to see him pull up a large trout. He swiftly removed it from the hook and dropped it into a large, wooden bucket.

“Expecting company?”

He baited the hook again and flung the line back into water. “Sometimes Gamling joins me. Or one of my friends.” He watched as I baited on my own hook and sat down next to him, I tossed my own line, in the opposite direction. “How is Gamling?”

“Badly injured,” I admitted. I would not lie or honey coat it. “I worry for his shoulder, his arm.” I made much of watching my line. “I have known him for many years. He will be a bear as he heals. Your mother will have her hands full with him.”

I saw a smirk. “My mother is more than a match for him.”

For some reason, this admission alarmed me. “Do they argue often?”

He looked at me for a moment, assessing me, my question, before returning to gaze at the water. “No. They rarely argue. But when they do, it is humorous to watch the two try to get back in the other's good graces. Their last argument was last summer. It was why I moved out.”

“That bad?”

“No.” Edric shook his head. “The making up was stomach-churning!” His voice raised an octave. “Oh Gamling, let me get this for you.” It dropped. “Oh no, Wudurose. I can reach that-”

“Please stop.” His attempt to mimic the two adults was spot-on and causing pain in my side.”

Edric nodded, his attention on the water. “How long? How long have you known him?”

“He aided me in breaking my first colt. He also put me face first in the mud when I deserved it.” This made Edric laugh. “He has ever been a faithful and valued friend.”

There was a nibble on my line. What I pulled up was too small to even be considered an appetizer for one person, so back it went. “I would ask if you had him marry my mother, but considering how they are so very disgustingly in love, I rather doubt it.”

My line was drifting with the current. “I was elated, thrilled when they fell in love. Not because I wanted rid of her, but because...” my voice trailed off while I found my words. “...but because I loved her and I wanted her happy.”

We sat in amiable silence for a few minutes. It was not awkward or uncomfortable. His voice broke the silence, the birdsong.

“What happened?”

Strange, I was not at a loss for words. For the first time in years, I spoke aloud of his mother, of me, our love. I had squelched her name in my soul for so long, it was a relief to be able to speak of her finally. I told him of her stoic nature, her tenaciousness. I told him what I knew of Irminric, her first husband, how beloved he was to the community. I told him things I had forgotten.

And then I told him about that snowball planted in my face, in the middle of Aldburg, in front of my men and others.

How horrible as it sounds, my son laughed at me. He laughed louder when I told him about throwing his mother over my shoulder and hauling her back to her home.

He asked me of his half-siblings and we talked and laughed. It wasn't until the bucket was full of fish and the sun was well passed overhead and settling in the west that I remembered I was here for other reasons.

But this time, these moments, I would cherish. I settled in my heart that it would not be the only time nor would it be ten summers before we did it again.

As we stood on that dock, he asked the question I had been dreading.

“You knew about me when I was seven summers. I know this. Gamling came one evening, in the rain and made my mother cry.”

“I am sure he did not mean to.” I picked up the bucket. “Gamling tracked Wudurose the moment I discovered she sold all and disappeared. It was the onset of winter and wise women were predicting a cold, miserable season. Do not,” I pointed at him with one finger, “ever refuse to believe a wise woman. She will curse you with the galloping shites.” Edric whooped at that, whether at the comment or at my expense. “I would have paid for her home, her farmland for her had I known she desired to leave. I would have paid for a stable hand, someone to help her. Her first summer here... I cannot begin to imagine how she managed. Gamling checked on her, the stead at least once a year after that. When he discovered you, I could not sit back and do nothing. I will tell you what I told Lothiriel; you are mine, just as much as my others. Long have I desired to see you, meet you. Your mother made it clear she wanted you to have as normal a childhood as possible. I allowed that.” I stepped forward and whispered in his ear, “Do not think for a moment I have or ever will deny you. I do not wish to hide you. I never did. But I have and will continue to respect your mother's desires. That is up to your mother and to you.” Again, I looked at the sun. I clapped him on the shoulder. “Come. 'Tis late. I fear I will have angered Tondhere. He seems to think all of my éorad's shoes need tending to and desired your help.” I pulled my pole from the water and removed the worm. “If he gives you a difficult time, let me know and-”

“No. Tondhere will understand. I am more of a beast than he.”

“Hmm,” I wondered drolly aloud, “I wonder where you possibly could have gotten that from?”

He snickered at that. As we untethered our horses, he spoke up. “Please do not consider me rude, however, you should understand, king you may be, and I respect you and have enjoyed this time, but my mother raised me and Gamling taught me how to be a man.” My heart fell, but he continued. “I would like to know you, however, I am not sure how I feel.”

“I understand.”

“No, I do not think you do.” There was a sudden terseness in his voice. “While you sat in your Golden Hall and your Queen played court in her velvets and fine clothes, my mother struggled to plow fields and harvest them.” His words gave me chills. “I have heard tell in whispers how she strapped me to her back in the autumn, when I was scarce a moon, and harvested her first three fields alone that first year she was here, how she planted the field with a belly. She rejected offers of help, until Tondhere forced her to accept them. Tondhere also made sure an able girl or boy stayed with her as she neared her time, so she would not birth me completely alone. I remember many nights, when I was young, hearing her cry in the dark. She told me she missed my father. For years, I thought she missed this elusive and ghostly Irminric, only to now learn in these last few days, that she was missing the king of Rohan. My king, who I was raised to believe was a benevolent and kind man – Eadig. The Blessed.” By now, he was fully mounted and it was obvious he was struggling to contain his anger. “I do not know what to think. Who is this Irminric, who I thought was my father and who are you, who is? I want to hate you, but I cannot!” He pulled back on his reins. “I am a man and I no longer have need of a father! So it is a bit late for that! My horse likes you and he hates everyone, so I suppose I have much to think about.” As his horse backed up, he hissed, “Now I will have to bite my tongue when Esolhætt becomes difficult!”

I reached out and grabbed his reins. “No, you have my permission to harm that one.” I took off ahead of him. When he caught up, he was smiling.

But it did not reach his eyes.