Eomer One-shot

Within the land of Rohan.

That was how their first conversation really went, since they were children, and hiding away from any possible harm; Thrya almost believed she offended the blonde, and Éowyn found it amusing how Thrya believed this. Éowyn wasn't so easily offended, she believed having Thrya around would be quite amusing, refreshing even. They soon bonded over more than just their apparent relatives wanting them not to dwell alone, they both longed for more; be it being seen as someone who could play a part in something bigger, or that they both had more to give than what anyone knew. But their relationship soon went from friends to something akin to a sisterly thing. If anyone spotted them, they would often see them chatting anywhere and everywhere, the topics of conversations could be anything from their hopes and dreams to some ridiculous joke Thrya came out with, and also Thrya despairing when she aided in cooking, and Éowyn tried and failed painfully to make anything remotely edible.

A few times their laughter and easy-going ways had been observed by the ever-present old brother, Éomer hadn't heard his sister laugh like she did in such a long time and call him curious over why. Thrya seemingly had the ability to cause ease to appear within his sister, she seemed so often on edge that it was almost painful. He had spied the brunette in the stables more than one time, tending to the silver maned mount, Éomer's eyes had watched her as he dwelt near the stable doors, she spoke earnestly to the horse before her, and Éomer was racking his brain...he knew the owner of that particular animal.

It wasn't like Thrya hadn't noticed Éomer's presence lurking on the periphery, he never sat in any of the conversations she and his sister were having. But he would observe them from a safe distance, be it dinner in the main hall with others around, or just when he had seen them walking the corridors of their home. Éomer remembered his uncle saying that he was happy to see Éowyn with someone by her side, Théoden's ploy to pull his niece out of her solitude was working, in more ways than one. He wasn't blind, Théoden could see that his nephew too, was somewhat intrigued by the young woman.

Thrya wasn't sure how to feel about the silent presence of Éomer, mainly in part due to the fact that as yet, he hadn't struck up a conversation with her, yet seemed content enough to watch over his sister and herself with silence. To Thrya it was a little creepy...no offence to Éomer, she just didn't like being watched so intensively.

She was also confused as to why, if he worried, she would bring harm to his sister, then he was wrong. Thrya and Éowyn had a fantastic relationship, they had never argued, and they got along swimmingly. Thrya wasn't very good at puzzles, they annoyed her and she didn't have the patience to figure out mysteries; but Éomer was a mystery, from what she had seen when practising with others, he was a fierce fighter, strong and quick, truly a credit to his training and his relationship with Firefoot was as trusting as any horse-lord and his mount.

But there was something different about him that Thrya couldn't quite put her finger on. Whenever their paths would cross, he would give her a small nod of acknowledgement, as if he knew her. And she soon found out that he did, by association. Thrya's father had been a trusted rider within the Mark, and Éomer had heard tales of his bravery in battle, no longer actively in duty, it didn't mean Torben's triumphs and successes weren't passed down. Thrya knew if her father had it his way, he would still fight, but a skirmish with some orcs a little before her coming here rendered her father injured, his leg had been cut up quite badly, and he was lucky not to have lost it, but forever now he would walk with a limp; it didn't mean he didn't still visit.

What didn't help with Thrya was that there seemed to be a sense of familiarity in Éomer's gaze, as if he had known her before they even met. As Thrya continued to serve Éowyn, she found herself crossing paths with Éomer more often. He would offer her a kind, if not a little awkward smile or strike up a conversation, his attempts at the latter were as awkward as him trying to act casual.