Eomer One-shot

Within the land of Rohan.

Torben had looked at his daughter with hardened hazel eyes, Thrya looked back at him sheepishly. "You do all of that here."

"Well, yes, that is the point I'm trying to get at. Here it is a given, this is my home. But..."

Torben placed his spoon within his bowl, sighed heavily and exasperatedly and picked up his cup. "At least there you will perhaps have a chance to broaden your horizons a little more and get paid to do so." Torben toasted his cup towards her, a suggestive look on his face before sipping slowly. He could almost, almost, hear the turning of his daughter's mind from across the table.

Thrya wanted more, she wanted to know things, to see things, to be involved and help, that was just who she was; to work within the Great Hall, she would have a chance to do at least a few of those things. Torben just hoped she didn't get involved in topics that didn't involve her. On a plus, she, much like those within Rohan as by second nature, loved horses and being around them. Stable work wasn't something Thrya would shy away from, even more so if Silvermane was present.

"Fine, I'll look into it." Thrya nodded and ate slowly, frowning again, she pointed a finger at him. "If you wanted me to move out, you could've just said."

Torben scoffed around a mouthful, "I'd want you to stay here forever, but it is a parent's job to watch their children grow, to leave and live their lives. I'll always be here, Thrya. It is just a shame your mother couldn't be here to see what an independent and beautiful woman you have become." Thrya's mother, Luthera, had died when Thrya was very young, she had no memories of her, just stories which her father had told her; from what she could gather, she looked very much like her.

Thrya however, come the next day, could've sent some choice words her father's way when it actually came about that it wasn't exactly the occupation, he had described it as. No, definitely not, last time she recalled, being enlisted as a lady in waiting to a member of the royal family was definitely not just servant work! This would entail more than what Thrya could even first imagine, only with her mind spiralling, she completely blanked the fact she was being spoken to. Coming to attention quickly, Thrya sent an apology at Éowyn, the poor blonde looked concerned that her new comrade was pale, withdrawn, and just staring at nothing.

"My father did not say that the work that which was needing done, was to involve you. I mean no offence by this, just..."

"It is more than you expected?" Éowyn smiled kindly, even chuckling quietly while shaking her head. "In truth, I believe it is a position my uncle has opened up, purely because he does not like the thought of me being alone." Éowyn looked at her with a smile still in place, her wavy blonde hair swayed behind her back as she walked, the simple dark green dress she wore made her skin seem paler, and her hair more golden.

Thrya felt just a little scruffy in comparison. Her days were usually spent looking after livestock, cooking, cleaning, running the plains around her home and climbing hills to lay and look at the sky...she had no nice dresses. The best she had was something her mother owned; all of her dresses used to belong to her mother. The one she wore was more earthy in colour, with hints of dark green in the hemming, much like Éowyn, Thrya's hair was loose and down her back.

Thrya narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, "Perhaps, just perhaps my father was not forthcoming due to the fact that he thought I'd deny being lonely, if I knew this opening was to accompany you."

Éowyn tilted her head, she looked at the woman beside her, Thrya was more or less the same age as her, perhaps a year or so younger, but they were a similar height and seemed to at least share possible loneliness as a common factor. "Are you lonely?"

"Are you?" Thrya commented back quickly, without a second thought before slapping a hand to her mouth. "Oh my, I am so sorry...I didn't mean..." Thrya's blundering just made Éowyn laugh, Thrya felt herself relaxing.