The Dare

It began as a dare. My twin brother and I were sparring at the armory one afternoon. While we were catching our breath, he said, "You may be good on the practice field, Eolindë, but I doubt you could last a foray with the Rangers in Ithilien." He had a martial twinkle in his eye. He knew he was goading me.

"I beg to differ brother. Who shoots the truer arrow? And did not Father train me in the use of the sword and spear? Am I not a shieldmaiden?"

True but have your skills ever really been put to the test? Its one thing to kill predators or spar with me and my friends, but it is quite another to kill a man.” he said soberly.

“You don’t think I could do it, do you?” I asked.

“No, I don’t think you could.” he said wiping down his sword. I was shocked.

“Well then I will just have to prove you wrong won’t I? I will go with the Rangers on the next foray! I think you underestimate me, Elred.”

“And just how do you plan on joining the party?” he asked with a smile.

“I’ll disguise myself. I can be your cousin. I’ve done it before you know.”

“Yes, I know. But this is different. Captain Faramir is no fool. You’ll have to be very careful.”

“I can be careful.” Elred just shook his head.

A week later I found myself dressed in the brown, green and grey of the Ithilien Rangers. Elred borrowed clothing from various sources. I wore a binder across my chest to hide my feminine form. I knew to speak as little as possible. Luckily, I could ride my horse, Halan. I look up at the dawning sky remembering the past.

Our mother is one of the Rohirrim, a breeder and trainer of horses. Our father was a man of Gondor. He fell in love with the plains of Rohan and our mother’s golden hair. Or so he says. We both have our mother’s fair hair and our father’s grey eyes. Growing up in Rohan, we rode practically before we walked. During the winter, Father would tell us of Minas Tirith, the White Tower, and the long war with the Shadow. Father began training Elred to fight just after our sixth summer. I begged to be allowed to train with him. Elred and I are closer than most brothers and sisters having been born twins. We did almost everything together. Mother added her voice. She said that in troubled times a woman must be able to defend herself and her house. Besides, if the King’s niece was being trained as a shieldmaiden why should our daughter not also? Father relented.

In our twelfth summer, Elred and I were allowed to accompany our parents to Minas Tirith. It was our first trip to the city. We could hardly contain our excitement. But my excitement was short-lived. Suddenly, instead of riding and practicing with my bow, I was forced to spend time with my cousins who were concerned about sewing and suitors. They looked down on me being part Rohirrim. I hated it. Then one day, I wandered into the Houses of Healing. A wise woman saw me and soon I was learning the craft of healing. My relatives were no happier with this choice of occupation than my sword fighting. My parents were more accepting. A trained healer would be welcome in the Southfold.

I also spent time in the libraries researching what I could and learned from whomever would teach me. My brother struggled also, being part Rohirrim. He had to defend his honor many times. In our fifteenth summer, Elred was accepted into the Rangers and would stay to train with them.

One afternoon, as I puzzled over some text in Numenorean, a man came up to me. “Would you like some help with that?” he asked kindly. He had dark grey eyes and an air of command.

“Oh yes, sir. I only know a little of this speech.” He patiently translated it for me.

“So you are studying to be a healer? “ he asked after he finished.

“Among other things. I am Eolindë and I am a shieldmaiden of Rohan also.” I said proudly.

“Well met, Eolindë. I am Faramir, Captain of the Rangers.” I was stunned. The Steward’s son! I blushed at my brash words. He laughed gently.

“You are the daughter of Telemnir, are you not?” he asked.

I looked down. “Yes, I am.”

“Your brother, Elred, is going to be training with us then?”

“Yes.”

“Well Eolindë, daughter of Telemnir, well met.” he said smiling, no derision in his face.

“Well met, Captain Faramir.” I said looking back. Then a messenger came for him and he left. My girlish heart was touched and I treasured the memory of this meeting. I nursed the memory until he became my ideal of a man.

The parting from Elred was hard. We had been almost inseparable for fifteen years but he wanted to do it. I saw the joy and pride in his eyes when he spoke of Captain Faramir and Rangers. So, I smiled through the pain and was happy for my brother.

For five more years, I came to visit with the horse sales. I always practiced with Elred and his friends. Elred took great pleasure in setting up a contest and watching me best someone. Unfortunately, my grandmother and aunts did not approve of my activities and let my parents know it. I was sat down and told that I should put away my bow and sword. I was to start thinking about getting married. I was horrified. My parents reluctantly agreed. I was to start acting like a lady and try to find a husband. I took Elred’s dare out of desperation to escape their plans.

I also tried to catch glimpses of Faramir during those years. The opportunity to speak to him was rare but did happen. When I was eighteen, Elred had set up a shooting match between his friend Dior and myself. Ten arrows each. I managed to get eight in the center versus Dior’s seven. As Dior was getting ribbed, Faramir strolled up. My heart practically leaped out of my chest.

“What is this all about?” he asked with mock seriousness. The young men were startled.

“We had a shooting contest, sir.” Dior said.

“A shooting contest. Who was it? A pair of my Rangers I hope.”

“Well one of them was. Myself, sir.”answered Dior.

“The other? Not one of my brother’s men?”

“ No sir. It was Elred’s sister, Eolindë.”

Faramir raised his eyebrows as the men stepped aside to reveal me.

“And who won?” he asked.

“She did.” Dior replied.

“And what did you win, my lady healer?” Faramir asked me.

“A bottle of wine from Lossarnach, sir. You remember me?” I said looking at him with surprise.

“Of course, it isn’t often that I get translate a treatise on wound care.” He said smiling. “Enjoy your wine, Lady Eolindë. And Dior, maybe she could help you improve your aim.” Then he strolled away. The men demanded I explain myself. I told them the story of meeting Faramir in the library. I blushed furiously and I paid for my victory with endless teasing.