LOTR Fic: Lady of Gondor Ch 17
Jun. 13th, 2007 12:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
martasficTitle: The Lady of Gondor Ch 17
Summary: The deeds of Mellamir, sister of Boromir and Faramir, before and during the War of the Ring. Novel-length.
Word Count: 2563
Rating: Teen (for violence)
Timeline: Mid-Third Age and Late Third Age (bookverse)
------
Sept 3018-Feb 3019; Edoras
Days passed; weeks turned into months; slowly but surely the autumn harvest approached; and then the harvest was finished, but still life went on. Edoras, after welcoming Mellamir back from Minas Tirith and gladly bidding Gandalf good-bye, calmly went about the normal business of living, scarcely noticing that, far to the south, war was coming. With Gandalf gone to the North and Éomer out in the wildlands somewhere hunting orcs, both Mellamir and Éowyn had someone to worry about and would have liked a bit of excitement. Life was a bit too normal for them. Slowly, however, some people began noticing that not all was as quiet as it seemed. Lagoric, who ran the royal stables, was one such person.
"Good morning, ladies," he said one chilly October morning when they came to saddle their horses for a ride. "I wondered if I might have a word, if you have a moment."
"Of course," Éowyn replied. "How may we help?"
"Well, it's me sister," he said, looking down at the hay-covered stable floor. "She lives in Algoras and, well, she hasn't written me for months. She normally writes at least every two weeks -- we were very close, you know, but her husband, he missed his home out there in the Westfold, and she went with him, like proper, don't you think?"
"Yes, that's proper, I suppose," Éowyn answered. "When did you last hear from her?"
"Let me see," he thought out loud, "it was right around the time Mistress Mellamir and Master Éomer left for Minas Tirith. They left here -- what, near the end of June, and that letter came a week after, I think. Give or take."
"And this is the end of October," Éowyn said, almost to herself. "That's three months. She should have written six times." She looked at Lagoric. "You two didn't have a fight or anything? She didn't give you any reason why she would have stopped writing?"
"No," he said, deep in thought, "nothing that I can think of, anyway. I didn't say anything I think she would get mad at. But you never can tell with women-folk, you beg my pardon, ladies. And she might have gotten hurt or something, I suppose, but still . . . " He trailed off.
"It isn't just you," Éowyn said at last. "Something's not right. Will you excuse us, Lagoric? I will take this matter up with the king, I promise, but first I need to talk with Mellamir." She took the reins of her horse. "Are you ready, Mellamir? I need some air."
The two mounted their horses and rode out at a fast trot around the city, over the fields for miles, until they at last rode up a tall hill. Finally, Éowyn stopped and dismounted. She started to run, but instead sank down to her knees and screamed.
"I should have known," she said miserably, "I should have seen . . . Mellamir, he's out there, Éomer, in it, whatever it is. But something's definitely wrong; Gandalf was right. Snake is mistaken, or -- more likely -- he's lying."
Éowyn fell silent. Mellamir followed her eyes across the field to the man riding toward them, holding a sleeping girl.
"Excuse me, ladies," he said, "but do you live in Edoras?"
"Yes," Mellamir answered, not trusting Éowyn to speak just yet. "I am from Gondor and am the king's guest. This is the king's niece, the Lady Éowyn. Who asks?"
"My name is Elledurm," the man replied, dismounting. "I have a farm some ten miles south of here. This little girl was brought to me by another farmer, and he asked me to carry her to Edoras. That I have done, and I have told you all I know. You will excuse me, I hope, if I do not tarry." And with that, he rode off.
Mellamir stood there holding the sleeping girl in her arms. "Look at her, Éowyn. She hasn't had a decent meal in weeks. And she's so filthy. Let's get her back to the house."
They mounted their horses and rode slowly back to Edoras, the girl sleeping in front of Mellamir. She woke briefly when they dismounted but then fell back asleep until they walked into the house. Mellamir gave her a bath using her best bubble bath and strawberry soap, while Éowyn set the table and ran over to Meduseld. She had prepared a meaty soup, and grain bread for herself and Mellamir, but this child needed more than that, so she and one of the kitchen staff came back with roast turkey and potatoes, a heartening ale, and the kind of baked treats little girls love.
Then Mellamir, Éowyn, and the girl sat down to dinner. "I can't believe how nice your towels are," the child said. "So thick!"
"What is your name?" Éowyn asked.
"Tova," she answered. "I'm from Algoras."
"In the west," Mellamir said with a resigned sigh.
"And you've come all this way by yourself?" Éowyn asked.
"Oh no. The men helped me."
"But . . . how did you leave Algoras? No one has heard from that part of Rohan for at least a month."
A tear crept down her face as she thought about the question. "It was a few weeks ago, back before the harvest; I suppose they must have harvested by now." She paused. "Papa had gone off to hunt with the old moon, five nights earlier. Mama and me, we had gone down to the well to get water for breakfast that next morning. When we came back, we saw a spear in the yard. I was scared, but Mama said we had to go home because that's where Papa would look for us. When we came closer, I saw that Papa's hair was on the pole. I shrieked, and some black men came out from behind the trees. They ran toward Mama. Two of them grabbed her and started to take her off, and a third reached for me, but I ducked and ran inside the house. Mama, she yelled out, "Run, Tova!" and so I ran . . . I grabbed my extra cloak and tied it up with some bread and a flask of water, and ran out the back door. The black men, they ran around -- only they weren't like normal men, all covered in hair, and their faces were lumpy -- but my sister, Saralina, she ran out and stopped them. They just grabbed her, and two of them held her back while another started to run after me, but as soon as I reached the field, they couldn't see me since we hadn't started the harvest then, and the wheat was tall and thick. And one of them grunted, and they all left, carrying away me mum and Saralina. But Mama had told me to run, so I did, all through the night until I couldn't run any more. Finally, I reached another farmer -- miles away. He asked me where I was going, and I remembered that Mama said I had an uncle in Edoras, so I thought I'd go there. That farmer took me for a while, and asked his brother to take me some more, and mile by mile, until here I am."
All through this, the girl had been eating hungrily. Not having had a decent meal in some time, she was on her second plate. Mellamir had eaten her bowl of soup, but Éowyn had hardly taken a bite. Now the old fire lit in her eyes again. She turned to Mellamir and said, "Watch the child. I have business with Snake."
Éowyn marched straight to Meduseld, and Wormtongue did not dare refuse her with that look in her eyes. She told Wormtongue and Théoden about Tova and her story, and Théoden saw that she was not fooled, nor was she to be deterred.
"My niece," Théoden said, "this is grave news indeed, but why are you so worried?"
"Why am I worried?" she asked incredulously. My brother is out there, with a new enemy he does not know how to fight. If he even still draws breath. Your nephew. How can you not be worried?"
"But what would you have me do?" the king asked.
"My lord --" Gríma tried to say, but Éowyn cut him off.
"Send out riders," she answered her uncle. "Find my brother, and bring him back safely, or at least his bones."
"But my lord, we have no proof --"
"You have an eye-witness," Éowyn answered him, barely controlling her disbelief. "What more proof do you need?"
"Éowyn speaks the truth, Wormtongue," Théoden said at last.
Wormtongue looked at Éowyn with daggers in his eyes. "As you wish, my lord," he said at last, "but it will take an army to find him."
"Then send out an army," she responded. "Send out Théodred and all the troops that can be found. They ride at the tenth hour."
Four hours later Théodred and half the city guard were standing outside the gates of Edoras, fully outfitted with horses, swords, spears, shields, armour, and full provision for the journey. Wormtongue, Éowyn, and Mellamir were also there to see the company off. When Théoden announced he wanted to say a few words at the send-off, Wormtongue suggested a heartening brandy to guard the king's cough against the autumn chill. However, the brandy had the opposite effect, worsening the cough, and the royal healers ordered him not to go outside for at least a fortnight. So Éowyn, as the only other member of the House of Éorl not actually leaving, gave the commission.
"Men of Rohan!" Éowyn shouted over the howling wind, "this morning Mellamir and I received distressing news. Orcs no longer attack only from the east, but from the west as well. And these orcs are more like men than any you have ever seen. You are not riding forth to war, but to rescue. My brother and the many valiant men he commands are risking their lives so Théoden, your king, can understand these new enemies. Now is the hour for them to return home.
"Yet war may well wait for you. Defend what is yours but do not attack unless that is the only way to rescue Éomer and his men. Returning them safely will earn you more honor than slaying a thousand orcs, for the information they carry will help us kill tens of thousands."
Théodred stepped forward. "Well spoken, cousin," he said. "For the glory of Rohan, for the sake of the Valar, and for our own honour, we will return you your brother. Men of Rohan, mount!" Five hundred men in glistening mail pulled themselves up onto their horses and turned to face the setting sun. At last, Théodred gave the command: "Forth, Éorlingas!" And with that, five hundred horses bearing five hundred warriors, their five hundred spears blazing in the late afternoon sun, rode off into the west.
Those were lean weeks, and life would only get worse before it got better -- much worse. The western farms had grown most of Rohan's grain and had always sent a tenth of their crop as a tax to feed the people of Edoras. With little wheat for bread and less barley for ale, the days of full stomachs were soon forgotten. Éowyn, set on keeping Wormtongue out of her uncle's chambers, moved back to Meduseld and nursed her uncle, leaving Mellamir to her own tasks.
But Mellamir was far from idle; that would have driven her insane. Théodred stopped at every village between Edoras and Algoras, taking with him all the men who could ride immediately and asking the chiefs to send any others strong enough to hold a sword back to Edoras, keeping a bare minimum to defend their women and children. Within a week, boys and their grandfathers began arriving at Edoras, and beds and bread had to be found.
So Mellamir was up before the sun once again, setting up tents outside Edoras. She had the women gather whatever vegetables could be found wild and make stews, and the old men who couldn't fight or even stand she set to whittling bowls, spoons, and cups out of wood as they sat by their fires. Théodred had asked for all those strong enough to wield a sword, not necessarily those who had any practice at it, and Mellamir's own military training, both with Faramir back in Minas Tirith and with Éowyn in Edoras, became worth something for the first time in her life. She halved the guards who patrolled the city and set the others to training the new recruits.
This went on for months until, at last, the spring sun broke through and winter began to fade away. The men wanted to return home to plant, but Mellamir would not let them: she knew Théodred and Éomer needed to return home to a unified and trained army, not soldier-farmers scattered across the country. Instead, she and several others of the fastest riders in the city went out, riding from town to town, announcing that the men would be staying in Edoras and urging the women to plant as much crops as they could.
All winter long, Éowyn had tended her uncle. The first thing she did was change his diet from the rich foods he usually ate to simple vegetables, stews, and water. "Hearty food makes for hearty health," she said to him once, "and even the king must tighten his belt in times such as these." The first night, when Wormtongue tried to bring in the king's regular goblet of wine, Éowyn seized it and poured it out on the floor. This was an Éowyn Wormtongue had never seen: beautiful, ice cold, and determined, no longer afraid to challenge him. If I could break her she might make a fitting prize, he thought to himself, and indeed prove useful.
He let her have her way and hung back. With the king ill with cough, cold, or flu, one after another throughout the winter, the task of governing fell to the king's trusted advisor. Mellamir saw to the troops in the field but Wormtongue controlled the storehouses, and if any of the people had a complaint, they came to him for justice.
At night Wormtongue brought the simple dinner Éowyn ordered, for three: he, Éowyn, and Théoden ate together. One night after dinner, as Wormtongue helped her lead Théoden to his bed, their hands accidentally brushed and she didn't shudder like she usually did when they touched. There's hope, he thought to himself. As always, he bowed and left her to her nightly watch.
So it was that Mellamir's mind was on other things when she heard the horn call. Not a full-strength call but an echo of one sounding far away, yet still strong enough for her to recognize: the Horn of Gondor. And then a full-strength blast from the silver horn of Rohan. She looked out from the city wall where she stood with Háma and saw Éomer riding up with all his men, holding the bloodied and half-dead Théodred in his arms.
Summary: The deeds of Mellamir, sister of Boromir and Faramir, before and during the War of the Ring. Novel-length.
Word Count: 2563
Rating: Teen (for violence)
Timeline: Mid-Third Age and Late Third Age (bookverse)
------
Sept 3018-Feb 3019; Edoras
Days passed; weeks turned into months; slowly but surely the autumn harvest approached; and then the harvest was finished, but still life went on. Edoras, after welcoming Mellamir back from Minas Tirith and gladly bidding Gandalf good-bye, calmly went about the normal business of living, scarcely noticing that, far to the south, war was coming. With Gandalf gone to the North and Éomer out in the wildlands somewhere hunting orcs, both Mellamir and Éowyn had someone to worry about and would have liked a bit of excitement. Life was a bit too normal for them. Slowly, however, some people began noticing that not all was as quiet as it seemed. Lagoric, who ran the royal stables, was one such person.
"Good morning, ladies," he said one chilly October morning when they came to saddle their horses for a ride. "I wondered if I might have a word, if you have a moment."
"Of course," Éowyn replied. "How may we help?"
"Well, it's me sister," he said, looking down at the hay-covered stable floor. "She lives in Algoras and, well, she hasn't written me for months. She normally writes at least every two weeks -- we were very close, you know, but her husband, he missed his home out there in the Westfold, and she went with him, like proper, don't you think?"
"Yes, that's proper, I suppose," Éowyn answered. "When did you last hear from her?"
"Let me see," he thought out loud, "it was right around the time Mistress Mellamir and Master Éomer left for Minas Tirith. They left here -- what, near the end of June, and that letter came a week after, I think. Give or take."
"And this is the end of October," Éowyn said, almost to herself. "That's three months. She should have written six times." She looked at Lagoric. "You two didn't have a fight or anything? She didn't give you any reason why she would have stopped writing?"
"No," he said, deep in thought, "nothing that I can think of, anyway. I didn't say anything I think she would get mad at. But you never can tell with women-folk, you beg my pardon, ladies. And she might have gotten hurt or something, I suppose, but still . . . " He trailed off.
"It isn't just you," Éowyn said at last. "Something's not right. Will you excuse us, Lagoric? I will take this matter up with the king, I promise, but first I need to talk with Mellamir." She took the reins of her horse. "Are you ready, Mellamir? I need some air."
The two mounted their horses and rode out at a fast trot around the city, over the fields for miles, until they at last rode up a tall hill. Finally, Éowyn stopped and dismounted. She started to run, but instead sank down to her knees and screamed.
"I should have known," she said miserably, "I should have seen . . . Mellamir, he's out there, Éomer, in it, whatever it is. But something's definitely wrong; Gandalf was right. Snake is mistaken, or -- more likely -- he's lying."
Éowyn fell silent. Mellamir followed her eyes across the field to the man riding toward them, holding a sleeping girl.
"Excuse me, ladies," he said, "but do you live in Edoras?"
"Yes," Mellamir answered, not trusting Éowyn to speak just yet. "I am from Gondor and am the king's guest. This is the king's niece, the Lady Éowyn. Who asks?"
"My name is Elledurm," the man replied, dismounting. "I have a farm some ten miles south of here. This little girl was brought to me by another farmer, and he asked me to carry her to Edoras. That I have done, and I have told you all I know. You will excuse me, I hope, if I do not tarry." And with that, he rode off.
Mellamir stood there holding the sleeping girl in her arms. "Look at her, Éowyn. She hasn't had a decent meal in weeks. And she's so filthy. Let's get her back to the house."
They mounted their horses and rode slowly back to Edoras, the girl sleeping in front of Mellamir. She woke briefly when they dismounted but then fell back asleep until they walked into the house. Mellamir gave her a bath using her best bubble bath and strawberry soap, while Éowyn set the table and ran over to Meduseld. She had prepared a meaty soup, and grain bread for herself and Mellamir, but this child needed more than that, so she and one of the kitchen staff came back with roast turkey and potatoes, a heartening ale, and the kind of baked treats little girls love.
Then Mellamir, Éowyn, and the girl sat down to dinner. "I can't believe how nice your towels are," the child said. "So thick!"
"What is your name?" Éowyn asked.
"Tova," she answered. "I'm from Algoras."
"In the west," Mellamir said with a resigned sigh.
"And you've come all this way by yourself?" Éowyn asked.
"Oh no. The men helped me."
"But . . . how did you leave Algoras? No one has heard from that part of Rohan for at least a month."
A tear crept down her face as she thought about the question. "It was a few weeks ago, back before the harvest; I suppose they must have harvested by now." She paused. "Papa had gone off to hunt with the old moon, five nights earlier. Mama and me, we had gone down to the well to get water for breakfast that next morning. When we came back, we saw a spear in the yard. I was scared, but Mama said we had to go home because that's where Papa would look for us. When we came closer, I saw that Papa's hair was on the pole. I shrieked, and some black men came out from behind the trees. They ran toward Mama. Two of them grabbed her and started to take her off, and a third reached for me, but I ducked and ran inside the house. Mama, she yelled out, "Run, Tova!" and so I ran . . . I grabbed my extra cloak and tied it up with some bread and a flask of water, and ran out the back door. The black men, they ran around -- only they weren't like normal men, all covered in hair, and their faces were lumpy -- but my sister, Saralina, she ran out and stopped them. They just grabbed her, and two of them held her back while another started to run after me, but as soon as I reached the field, they couldn't see me since we hadn't started the harvest then, and the wheat was tall and thick. And one of them grunted, and they all left, carrying away me mum and Saralina. But Mama had told me to run, so I did, all through the night until I couldn't run any more. Finally, I reached another farmer -- miles away. He asked me where I was going, and I remembered that Mama said I had an uncle in Edoras, so I thought I'd go there. That farmer took me for a while, and asked his brother to take me some more, and mile by mile, until here I am."
All through this, the girl had been eating hungrily. Not having had a decent meal in some time, she was on her second plate. Mellamir had eaten her bowl of soup, but Éowyn had hardly taken a bite. Now the old fire lit in her eyes again. She turned to Mellamir and said, "Watch the child. I have business with Snake."
Éowyn marched straight to Meduseld, and Wormtongue did not dare refuse her with that look in her eyes. She told Wormtongue and Théoden about Tova and her story, and Théoden saw that she was not fooled, nor was she to be deterred.
"My niece," Théoden said, "this is grave news indeed, but why are you so worried?"
"Why am I worried?" she asked incredulously. My brother is out there, with a new enemy he does not know how to fight. If he even still draws breath. Your nephew. How can you not be worried?"
"But what would you have me do?" the king asked.
"My lord --" Gríma tried to say, but Éowyn cut him off.
"Send out riders," she answered her uncle. "Find my brother, and bring him back safely, or at least his bones."
"But my lord, we have no proof --"
"You have an eye-witness," Éowyn answered him, barely controlling her disbelief. "What more proof do you need?"
"Éowyn speaks the truth, Wormtongue," Théoden said at last.
Wormtongue looked at Éowyn with daggers in his eyes. "As you wish, my lord," he said at last, "but it will take an army to find him."
"Then send out an army," she responded. "Send out Théodred and all the troops that can be found. They ride at the tenth hour."
Four hours later Théodred and half the city guard were standing outside the gates of Edoras, fully outfitted with horses, swords, spears, shields, armour, and full provision for the journey. Wormtongue, Éowyn, and Mellamir were also there to see the company off. When Théoden announced he wanted to say a few words at the send-off, Wormtongue suggested a heartening brandy to guard the king's cough against the autumn chill. However, the brandy had the opposite effect, worsening the cough, and the royal healers ordered him not to go outside for at least a fortnight. So Éowyn, as the only other member of the House of Éorl not actually leaving, gave the commission.
"Men of Rohan!" Éowyn shouted over the howling wind, "this morning Mellamir and I received distressing news. Orcs no longer attack only from the east, but from the west as well. And these orcs are more like men than any you have ever seen. You are not riding forth to war, but to rescue. My brother and the many valiant men he commands are risking their lives so Théoden, your king, can understand these new enemies. Now is the hour for them to return home.
"Yet war may well wait for you. Defend what is yours but do not attack unless that is the only way to rescue Éomer and his men. Returning them safely will earn you more honor than slaying a thousand orcs, for the information they carry will help us kill tens of thousands."
Théodred stepped forward. "Well spoken, cousin," he said. "For the glory of Rohan, for the sake of the Valar, and for our own honour, we will return you your brother. Men of Rohan, mount!" Five hundred men in glistening mail pulled themselves up onto their horses and turned to face the setting sun. At last, Théodred gave the command: "Forth, Éorlingas!" And with that, five hundred horses bearing five hundred warriors, their five hundred spears blazing in the late afternoon sun, rode off into the west.
Those were lean weeks, and life would only get worse before it got better -- much worse. The western farms had grown most of Rohan's grain and had always sent a tenth of their crop as a tax to feed the people of Edoras. With little wheat for bread and less barley for ale, the days of full stomachs were soon forgotten. Éowyn, set on keeping Wormtongue out of her uncle's chambers, moved back to Meduseld and nursed her uncle, leaving Mellamir to her own tasks.
But Mellamir was far from idle; that would have driven her insane. Théodred stopped at every village between Edoras and Algoras, taking with him all the men who could ride immediately and asking the chiefs to send any others strong enough to hold a sword back to Edoras, keeping a bare minimum to defend their women and children. Within a week, boys and their grandfathers began arriving at Edoras, and beds and bread had to be found.
So Mellamir was up before the sun once again, setting up tents outside Edoras. She had the women gather whatever vegetables could be found wild and make stews, and the old men who couldn't fight or even stand she set to whittling bowls, spoons, and cups out of wood as they sat by their fires. Théodred had asked for all those strong enough to wield a sword, not necessarily those who had any practice at it, and Mellamir's own military training, both with Faramir back in Minas Tirith and with Éowyn in Edoras, became worth something for the first time in her life. She halved the guards who patrolled the city and set the others to training the new recruits.
This went on for months until, at last, the spring sun broke through and winter began to fade away. The men wanted to return home to plant, but Mellamir would not let them: she knew Théodred and Éomer needed to return home to a unified and trained army, not soldier-farmers scattered across the country. Instead, she and several others of the fastest riders in the city went out, riding from town to town, announcing that the men would be staying in Edoras and urging the women to plant as much crops as they could.
All winter long, Éowyn had tended her uncle. The first thing she did was change his diet from the rich foods he usually ate to simple vegetables, stews, and water. "Hearty food makes for hearty health," she said to him once, "and even the king must tighten his belt in times such as these." The first night, when Wormtongue tried to bring in the king's regular goblet of wine, Éowyn seized it and poured it out on the floor. This was an Éowyn Wormtongue had never seen: beautiful, ice cold, and determined, no longer afraid to challenge him. If I could break her she might make a fitting prize, he thought to himself, and indeed prove useful.
He let her have her way and hung back. With the king ill with cough, cold, or flu, one after another throughout the winter, the task of governing fell to the king's trusted advisor. Mellamir saw to the troops in the field but Wormtongue controlled the storehouses, and if any of the people had a complaint, they came to him for justice.
At night Wormtongue brought the simple dinner Éowyn ordered, for three: he, Éowyn, and Théoden ate together. One night after dinner, as Wormtongue helped her lead Théoden to his bed, their hands accidentally brushed and she didn't shudder like she usually did when they touched. There's hope, he thought to himself. As always, he bowed and left her to her nightly watch.
So it was that Mellamir's mind was on other things when she heard the horn call. Not a full-strength call but an echo of one sounding far away, yet still strong enough for her to recognize: the Horn of Gondor. And then a full-strength blast from the silver horn of Rohan. She looked out from the city wall where she stood with Háma and saw Éomer riding up with all his men, holding the bloodied and half-dead Théodred in his arms.