Silverhelm: A Tale of Two Enemies

The Future King Of Gondor Is A Saddle Thief

It was high afternoon, and we had been riding/walking without break since morning. I still had Freda on Daelen with me, and she was enjoying talking to the others, especially Eowyn: she had gotten over her awe of the princess.

Gimli was now telling Eowyn, who was walking beside us, about dwarf women. "It's true you don't see many dwarf women. And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, they are often mistaken for dwarf men." I had met a dwarf woman, one, by the name of Dis, she was Thorin's sister. Eowyn looked back at Aragorn.

"It's the beards," he said, gesturing to his own.

"And this, in turn, has given rise to the belief that there are no dwarf women. And the dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!" Eowyn laughed. "Which is of course ridiculous. Whoa!" Gimli, who was not a good rider, fell from his horse: he was not sharing with Legolas. "It's all right! It's all right. Nobody panic. That was deliberate. It was deliberate." Eowyn laughed, checking him over.

"I have not seen my niece smile in a long time," Theoden said to Aragorn. "She was a girl when they brought her father back dead. Cut down by Orcs." Her father had been Eomund, I remembered, Theoden's brother-in-law. "She watched her mother succumb to grief. And she was left alone to tend her king in growing fear. Doomed to wait upon an old man who should have loved her as a father." Theoden looked straight ahead, seeing the ghost of the past.

Aragorn and Eowyn looked at each other, and I felt Aragorn's distress. Aragorn wished Eowyn nothing but joy, but he only saw her as a friend. I felt very, very sad for Eowyn.

In a few hours, we stopped for the night. People were sleeping wherever they got the space. I dismounted, lifted Freda off Daelen, and let him run off, but not before taking his saddle- I knew he would succeed in getting it off if I didn't.

Sitting Freda on my shoulders, I went off in search of her brother and the woman that was taking care of them, leaving my saddle with Aragorn (I didn't trust Legolas or Gimli). I found them sitting around a small cooking fire with some others.

Lifting Freda off, I set her in front of her brother. "Eothain! Guess what I got!" she chirped. While she recounted her tale to her brother, their caretaker approached me.

"Thank you for taking care of her, mil- Lyrasael," she said.

"It's no problem," I responded. "I like seeing another fiery girl in this world."

"Er- don't you think that giving her a blade is a bad idea?" she whispered.

I smiled. "It probably is. But I want her to be able to protect herself if she is attacked."

"Of course, she could do that by talking the orc's ears off..." the woman muttered. I laughed. She looked me in the eye. "She is very fond of you."

"I hope she can find her mother again," I said sadly. Nodding at her, I touched a hand to my chest and extended it to her in the standard Elvish greeting- the equivalent of a human's wave. She curtsied.

I stepped away, searching for Aragorn. He was being offered soup by Eowyn.

"Thank you," he said, accepting the spoon. He took a bite. "It's good." I could see that he was straining to keep a straight face. Eowyn turned to walk away. Aragorn took advantage of than to tip his bowl to the side and pour out the contents. I endeavored to repress a smile. Suddenly, Eowyn turned around. Aragorn hastily brought the bowl in front of him, spilling some in the process.

My sides shook with silent laughter as Aragorn endured another spoonful. "My Uncle told me a strange thing. He said that you rode to war with Thengel, my grandfather. But he must be mistaken." I nodded, though no one saw me. I had ridden to war with them too.