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Chapter Text

Author's Note: This is a work of fiction, I have tried to keep true to Tolkien's work, though there are times I might not have got it right. I apologize for this, though my main reason was to entertain.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of The Rings, nor any of the characters from it. I do own a full scale replica of Éomer's helmet and sword….

Thunder Watch

Chapter 1

A small hand tugging on Eldarion's arm was what woke the young heir. Slowly opening his eyes he found not only Elboron who was standing by his bed, pulling on his arm, but Elfwine pressed against the older boy's side. At first he wondered why they had woken him, then he heard the distant boom of thunder from the window.

The three boys were good friends, in part he believed because they all understood the position the other was in. As the heir of Gondor he was expected to always behave himself with great composition, or at least as much so as a child of eight years of age was able to. He understood the demands on his father, and why he must sometimes be a King first and father second. He understood it, for the fate of their Kingdom and its people did rest on his father's shoulders. He was glad to do what he could to aid, though it was not always much. At least he could show understanding.

Elboron, son of Faramir, Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien, as well as Éowyn, sister of the king of Rohan was only one year younger than was he, and quite mature. He was as soft spoken and compassionate as his father, and yet as fierce as his mother. Courageous and serious minded for his young age he was a very good companion and Eldarion viewed him ever as his equal in every way.

Youngest and smallest was Elfwine, son of Éomer, King of Rohan, and Lothíriel who had been Princess of Dol Amroth before she wed the Rohir, and was cousin to Faramir. Expected to be as hot of temper as his father he did not disappoint in this regard. His fury when angered could be frightening to behold, and Eldarion was glad it had never so far been directed at him. Of his mother's gentile manners was not much yet seen, though he clearly showed the compassion of both his parents. It was not disappointment over a meal that would bring out his temper but injustices of one boy bullying another, or the ill treatment of an animal.

Living so much further away the two Gondorian boys saw less of him, but cared just as much for him for it.

It was why they had chosen since they were all very small to share the same bedchamber when they were all together. Sometimes they bedded down in the same bed all three of them, or Elboron and Elfwine had their own cots.

Eldarion had quickly discovered another advantage to the situation. Not only did it mean they could have whispered conversations in the dark, or even sometimes a quiet game, but there were more stories before bedtime as well. The Rohirrim in particular were great at stories, as it was how they shared and remembered their history. Either Éowyn or Éomer might tell them, and all three boys would listen enthralled.

Now though it was obvious that stories were not what was on their minds, at the sound of another boom of thunder, and a brief flash of lightening in the room Elfwine gave a small choked whimper.

Instinct took over a sleep muddled brain and Eldarion threw the cover back and wrapped an arm around his friend. "What is wrong?" he asked.

"The storm woke us, Elfwine was scared," Elboron stated. Then the boy bit his lip. "I am scared also," he admitted, pressing in next to Elfwine.

"It is naught but a lightning storm, it can not touch us here," Eldarion gazed at the window. The glass panes allowing the flashes of lightning to play across the walls of the room. He supposed it could be scary, but it was not something he had ever feared.

"I am scared," Elfwine whimpered and Eldarion rubbed his back gently. He was after all only six years of age, it was not so strange that he would be fearful. This was why he was older, so that he could look after the two younger boys. Even if Elboron did enjoy to remind him that he was but a year younger, and therefore did not need as much looking after as did Elfwine. Eldarion would remind him that Elfwine was only a year younger than Elboron, so if Elboron did not need Eldarion to look after him, then Elfwine did not need Elboron.

Elboron did not like that reasoning, Elfwine was his cousin by blood, and younger, and therefore it was Elboron's responsibility to look after him. It was sweet, all his eight years of experience told him, and neither one needed to be babied. They were just younger, and that was how simple it was. They were younger, he was older, so he was the one who should see to them.

"It is okay to be scared," he stated softly now. For the little Rohir was generally fearless and would face any danger head on. To hear him declare himself to be scared was strange, and Eldarion wondered for a minute if he should go wake his Ada. Certainly he was supposed to do so if he needed them, though this time he was uncertain.

There had been trouble in the east once more, the Easterlings seemed to be determined to push and prod on occasion to see what progress might be gained. So far, Aragorn, King of Gondor and his father, together with Éomer King of Rohan had always pushed back fast and hard. It was why Elfwine and Elboron were in Minas Tirith. As the two Kings left, Faramir was left in the city to see to all the affairs of state while they were gone. Lothíriel did the same in Rohan, and Éomer had laughed when he claimed he only wanted to spare her the difficulty of looking after their hellion of a son at the same time. Though Eldarion knew it was so the three boys could spend more time together.

Éowyn was in Minas Tirith as well with Faramir, though their chambers were further away, and with them still slept Elboron's three year old brother. Elboron had his own chambers if he wished it, but especially when Elfwine was with them they did prefer to share.

Had it been a normal visit in peaceful times, he would not have hesitated to leave the chamber and wake either his father or Éomer. With Faramir and Éowyn having the baby, he was far more reluctant to wake either of them. If not for the risk of also waking the child. It was not as if he absolutely needed Elboron's father or mother at any account. If the younger boy was frightened or hurting, either one of their parents would be quite welcome by him. Just as Eldarion had always been able to be comfortable by Éowyn, Faramir or Éomer and his wife just as well as by his own parents.

It was not an uneasiness to enter the King of Rohan's bedchamber that had him hesitating now, for he had indeed done so before. It was knowing that Éomer, as well as his father had arrived safely home only the day before. Though they had said nothing of wounds or hardship they had both carried themselves in that stiff and careful way that Eldarion knew they had suffered injuries even if nothing so severe as to cause concern. This information he had not wanted to share with Elfwine, for if his father did not say anything so as not to worry his son, it was not Eldarion's place to do so in his stead. He did not think either Elboron or Elfwine had noticed, and he was certain the adults wished it to remain so.

Where else he would not have hesitated to go to wake his father or Elfwine's, now he did.

Obviously he had also taken too long pondering the situation, for Elfwine had scrambled up on the bed to wrap his arms around him. "I am scared," he declared again. "I want Fæder."

"Éomer King is sleeping," Eldarion bit his lip. "He and Ada seemed very tiered, and it is only a storm."

"The storm makes me scared, so I can not sleep," Elfwine pouted. "I know it is a storm. Storms are very scary."

"They are," Elboron nodded. "I am scared also."

"I do not think Éomer would be cross," Eldarion mused. "Though I do think we can manage for ourselves. I know it is scary, I am not really scared, but I know it is scary. Storms are, but it might not have to be."

"How would it not be?" Elfwine pouted.

"Ada says sometimes we are only scared for we do not know the thing we are scared of," Eldarion tried.

"I know what a storm is," Elfwine glowered. "That is why I am scared of it."

"Lightning could strike," Elboron stated.

"Yes, but not here," Eldarion stated. "We are safe here. I am certain of it. Though when you wake it is very hard to go to sleep again, but we might not need to. Not right away. If we snuck to the kitchen, we could find something to eat I am certain. And we can put a blanket over the window, and we would not see the storm. We could pretend we're camping, and we are only hearing the wind in the trees."

"The wind does not make booms," Elfwine pouted. "I would rather go to Fæder."

"Why don't we try my idea first, and if it does not work, I will go with you to your father," Eldarion promised. "I do not want you to be scared, I never would, but I think though they would never turn us away our fathers are tiered."

"Fæder was," Elfwine nodded slowly. "And I am going to be a warrior. Warriors can not be scared of a storm can they?" he asked with a small sniff.

"It is not never being scared that makes you a brave warrior," Eldarion wrapped his arm around the smaller boy. "It is doing the right thing even if you are scared. A warrior can be scared, it does not make him less of a warrior. It only means you are weary of the danger and take what steps you can to avoid it."

"I am scared, but I am also hungry," Elboron mused. "I think I want food. I need to grow big."

"Come then," Eldarions slipped out of bed, hurriedly pulling his robe over his nightshirt he looked at his companions. Neither had robes, though he thought Elfwine was too small to need it. The young Rohir did not seem overly worried about modesty. He passed Elboron a shirt, and then led the way into the corridors. The stone floor was cold under their bare feet, but it allowed them to slip quietly through the halls. Passing a few sleepy sentries that were not overly worried about any threat, and certainly not three small boys.

Leading the way into the kitchen Eldarion pondered the situation. Kitchen raids were not encouraged, but nor where they forbidden. His mother had tried to sound stern, but his father had been light of heart and cautioned him to mind well what he took. It was alright for a hungry boy to sneak a bit of bread or cheese late at night, but it was not alright to take something that would add to the burden of the kitchen staff. This instruction he had taken to heart, and so he contemplated their choices. Elfwine already looked less worried though he jumped sometimes if there was a particularly loud boom of thunder from outside. Elboron had started looking around hopefully, so he did not seem to be very scared anymore.

"I think we will find the best things in here," he led the way towards a larder he knew contained mostly leftovers. There was less chance of taking something they should not have done that way.

Inside the larder, all three boys looked around themselves with amazement. Certainly it seemed heavenly to three small boys. Shelf after shelf filled with bread, cheese, pies, sausages and jars with preserve, honey and an endless number of treats.

Looking over the choices Eldarion started picking out items he thought suitable. In a small pile he sat several delicate hand pies, a large piece of honey glazed ham. A couple of soft fluffy bread rolls and a wedge of cheese. Elboron found a crook of chilled milk, and Eldarion added some sausages and cold cuts of roast beef. Finding a jar of mustard that he poured some of onto a saucer, moving the pie that had been on it to another one.

"How do we carry it?" Elboron finally mused as he regarded the pile.

"We need to find something," Eldarion looked about himself for something, smiling softly as Elfwine found, and added an apple braid to their pile of spoils. The first he had seemed to want for himself since he woke Eldarion.

Elboron quickly shrugged out of his borrowed shirt and laid it on the floor, the boys piling their treats upon the soft fabric. Folding it up into a neat bundle.

Carrying it back they snuck just as quietly through the halls, though more cheerful of heart as they contemplated the feast that would be waiting for them. While Elboron pulled the blanket from the bed and spread it on the floor, Eldarion tried to get one over the window. When he was not able to fasten it, he instead hung one from the candelabras on the wall, allowing it to hang down on the back of a large armchair. By hanging one more from the chair to the mantle over the fire place he was able to create a screened off area of the room.

Elfwine, gripping the wooden sword he still used to carry though he knew it was a child's toy studied the result of their efforts carefully. Then scooting into the small cave like area he nodded slowly. Occasionally a flash of lightning would play over the walls, but the blankets were thick and muted the sound somewhat from behind them.

"It is like being a ranger," Elboron declared cheerfully.

"I do not wish to be a ranger," Elfwine pouted.

"You need not, rangers and the riders of Rohan are very much alike," Eldarion beamed. "Does not Éomer King speak of sleeping out on the open plains? Just like Father did as a ranger?"

"He does, and I shall be a rider," Elfwine declared. He laid his wooden sword in front of him with a most serious look on his face.

They had no cups, so the three boys drank the milk from the jug, dividing the food between them as equally as they were able. Elboron broke the cheese in three parts, but he was not able to make them the same size.

Taking the smallest of the three pieces, Eldarion smiled. "I like ham better," he declared, for there was one more slice of ham in one pile than in the other two.

Elfwine laid his hand flat on the apple braid, forcing his wooden blade through it at the tips of his fingers, then repeated the action only to find that the piece left over was not even half as big as the other two. "When Fæder does that, they come out the same," he pouted. "And he does not even need use his hand…"

"There is a piece missing from it," Elboron pointed out. "It must be why, but it does not matter. "You are the smallest, so you should have a big piece."

"I'm the eldest, I should have the smallest," Eldarion decided.

"It is silly that the biggest should have the smallest," Elfwine frowned. "But if you have a bite of both mine and Elboron's, it should be much the same."

"Yes, it should," Eldarion declared with a happy smile, for he liked the apple braid very much. He had certainly been willing to take the smaller share, for it was Elboron and Elfwine whom had been scared and the food already seemed to have offered them some small measure of comfort. Elfwine still threw worried glances around the room as the thunder sounded, but he no longer seemed so terrified. It was like his father said, Eldarion mused. Men could face many a thing that frightened them, if they only had something pleasant to turn their thoughts to. Lying awake, listening to the storm and seeing the lightning flashes as they lit up the room, the two smaller boys had had nothing but their fear for company. A raid to the kitchen, and now the impromptu meal had given them something else.

Elfwine spread a thick layer of jam and mustard onto the slice of cold roast beef, licking his fingers clean with a content sigh.

However Eldarion was beginning to suspect they had overestimated how much they could eat, for there was plenty left, and both Elboron and Elfwine were starting to look decidedly sleepy. Elboron's eyelids were dropping before he shook himself awake again, and Elfwine had made himself comfortable leaning against him.

"I think we should go back to bed," Eldarion stated. "Unless you still want me to get your father?" he had to ask the question, for if either boy was still scared, he would be glad to do it for them.

"I am okay," Elboron decided thoughtfully. "I am too sleepy to be scared."

"I am a little scared, but not so much anymore," Elfwine decided.

"You can sleep in my bed, and you won't be alone," Eldarion decided. Taking his hand he pulled the younger boy gently to his feet, wrapping an arm around him in a brief hug as Elboron too scrambled up into the bed that was quite big enough for all three of them. Elboron took the other side, and Eldarion allowed Elfwine to get into the middle where he would probably feel the safest. He was not comfortable leaving them to take the uneaten food back to the kitchen so he left it where it was.

It made him smile how his two friends seemed asleep almost instantly, but though he was a little sleepy he found sleep slow to come as he wanted to make certain they were indeed sleeping comfortable before he allowed himself to rest.

He had no more than fallen into the lightest dose when the door to his chambers opening woke him up. Startled for a moment he wondered if more of the night than he was aware had passed and it was already the morn.

A glance towards the window where the lightning still split the darkness told him it was not so. Seeing the King of Rohan in the doorway he sat up with a smile, glancing to Elfwine who slept deeply beside him. Moving silently on bare feet the King of Rohan slipped into the room, shaking his head amused as he saw Eldarion awake. Even in nothing but shirt and breeches and with his hair sleep rumpled he looked like a formidable man. Though he had never had cause to be scared for the warrior himself, Eldarion could easily see why so many were frightened of him. Tall and muscular, with a way of moving that always seemed poised and ready.

Eldarion certainly understood why so many feared the strength of his sword arm, though for his own part he had always felt it meant safety.

"I thought it was my son I'd find awake when I woke from the storm," Éomer mused. "I felt it best to check on you, but it would seem there was no need for concern. I gather you boys made quite a nice evening of it." His gaze fell on the remaining food and the blankets strung up still and Eldarion found himself blushing lightly as the King of Rohan gave him that bemused smile he thought was teasing, but was not always entirely certain.

"Elboron and Elfwine did wake me," he stated softly. "They were afraid of the storm, and Elfwine did at first wish to go to you. I only thought," he hesitated, blushing and Éomer sat on the edge of the bed beside him, ruffling his hair lightly.

"Thought what?" the warrior prodded gently.

"I thought I should let you rest if I was able," Eldarion finished quietly. "I know you and Ada were very weary when you returned, and I know you were hurt, if not bad. I still wished you were able to rest, and though they were scared of the storm, they were not that scared," he started hurriedly, then paused. "I did not think Elfwine was ever scared of anything."

"Not much," Éomer gave him an amused smiled. "Though storms like this, aye, he is fearful of them. When you live in a city of naught but rock and stone, there is not much a little wind and rain can do to you. But when you live in a city built of wood and straw, it is good to be a little fearful of the lightning. The same as if you are surrounded by woods for miles around," he added. Nodding to Elboron who spent most his time in Emyn Arnen.

"I had not thought of that," Eldarion admitted with a sheepish look.

"Aye, there is no reason you should think of everything," Éomer ruffled his hair again. Smiling as Eldarion tried to duck away. "And though I think you are very considerate, you must know you could wake me? I have not yet been so weary I would not wish to know if either of you three needed me. I thought you were well aware of this?"

He looked almost worried in the darkness Eldarion thought, and it was strange. It was not how he had thought one of their mighty father's might ever look.

"It was not that I did not think we could," he hurried to attempt to explain. "I would have wished to avoided waking Uncle Faramir and Aunt Éowyn," for so he had been bidden to call them even if they were not related by blood. "But only for fear of also waking the baby."

"Aye, that is wise," Éomer nodded. "Babies tend to be very displeased and very loud about being woken when they do not wish to be."

"I have learned as much," the mere memory was enough to make him wince. "And I would not have wished to hinder them if they were really so scared it was needed. I would have gone to either you or Ada. I only felt I should try to comfort them first. They did wake me, so I felt mayhap I would be able to help them to feel more at ease myself."

"Eldarion, it is not your duty to always look out for them in every little thing," Éomer told him softly. "It is a great relief to me that you do as much as you do, but for that they are your friends, they are not your responsibility alone."

"I know, but I also wish to," he stated, hoping he would be able to explain himself. "I like it when they turn to me. I like that they trust me to do so. And I know I must not try to handle what I can not, for then they could easily come to harm. I must be very careful about that, but I felt if I could just help them see that even if the storm is scary, we are safe in here, they would not be so fearful. Ada has told me many times that sometimes when men have nothing to do but to contemplate the horror they fear, it shall grow out of proportion. I thought if one lies awake listening to such a storm, it must be much like that."

"Aye, it is," Éomer nodded. "And your father is a very wise man."

"I asked them if they would try," Eldarion looked at his sleeping friends. "To just put it out of their minds for a moment, and I promised if it did not help, I would get you. I would not have wished for them to be scared any longer than needed. I do not wish for them to be scared at all."

"You are a good friend to them," Éomer told him, and Eldarion ducked his head as he blushed.

"I try to be," he mumbled. "I see you and Ada and Uncle Faramir, and I hope we can have as much one day."

"I think, that you already do," Éomer told him, gently putting one hand on his shoulder and pushing him down. "And I also think you should be asleep, or you may find you will have to explain your kitchen raid to someone else but me."

"I am not scared of the storm, but after we ate, I found I could not sleep," Eldarion admitted.

"That is the trouble for the one who stands watch," the warrior nodded. "Would you like to hear the story of the storm horse then?"

"Oh yes, may I?" Eldarion smiled. For the Rohirrim used not writing to pass their stories and their history, but told it to one another, and it was always a pleasure to listen to them. They all seemed to have the soft melodious voices that made the tale as real as if you lived it when you were listening to them. He had heard Éomer tell many stories before, and they were always enthralling. He settled down, wriggling a little to get comfortable. Elfwine's foot was in his knee but he did not mind as he listened to the King of Rohan.

Though the low, soft voice quickly made him sleepy and he found it hard to stay awake and listen. It was with a soft smile of contentment he allowed the voice to fully lull him to sleep.

Smiling bemused to himself Éomer shook his head. A mere few lines of story, and the boy was out like a light. Rohirric children usually lasted longer than so, but then they were more used to the stories whereas Eldarion only got to hear them so often. He had not yet learned to fight against the soothing rhythm of them. That was indeed one of the reasons he had chosen the one he had, not only as it related to the storm outside, but as the rhythm in the words could make even an experienced story listener battle sleep through it.

More than once, as they were told the stories in his youth in Aldburg, had the teller himself been the one to find sleep even before the children that were listening. The man had been an old Rider with a leg that would not let him ride in combat anymore. So he was often the one to pass their history and lore to the children, and they in turn quickly learned which would put him to sleep so that they might seek other adventures on their own.

Shaking his head in memory of the amusement he pulled the cover up further over the heir of Gondor. Making certain that Elboron was covered as well, smoothing back a lock of hair from his forehead before pressing a kiss to his own son's.

He left the blankets as they were, but cleared away all the remains of their impromptu feast. Gathering up what was left of the food with a small wince. For indeed Eldarion had been right, they had not escaped the conflict entirely without injury though they were minor. It still seemed him what would have been naught but a minor inconvenience in his youth was now a source of greater discomfort. Even worse, plenty of those minor injuries he had never paid any heed at the time, now with age seemed to wish to make themselves known again.

The empty dishes he simply dumped in a wood basin in the kitchen, the few bites of remaining food in the pantry. The boys would not have got into any trouble for their impromptu midnight feast, certainly not as Eldarion's main concern had been the wellbeing of the younger boys. No, he never even entertained the idea they would need to answer for their actions. They were young boys though, and growing to enjoy a bit of mischief now and again. He saw no reason why anyone needed knowing what they had been up to, for no doubt would they at a later date wish to do the same. For no other reason than for the way any growing boy enjoyed sneaking an extra treat when he was able.

Better then no one thought to look for them performing the act, and it would be all the easier for them to get away with it. Cooks tended to guard their domains with a ferocity one might not expect, and they would sometimes take offence if one liberated even such items as had been deemed no longer worth keeping.

For all he was clearing away the evidence of their plunder, he still found himself grabbing a plum tart from one of the plates in the pantry as he restored it to order. He was not so naive he did not think the intrusion would pass unnoticed. Not only for the suddenly empty dishes that needed washing, but for that he would be much surprised if the staff had not known every morsel stored in the pantry.

Disturbing a few of the dishes on the higher shelves that would not appeal to children, only so much as so that they would be recognized as having been disturbed, he smiled to himself. Now, it would most likely be suspected that it was an adult that had been the culprit, and the palace contained many of such status that a forray into the kitchen would not be questioned.

Returning to his own chamber he paused by Eldarion's door, but it was all perfectly quiet inside and so he continued with a smile.

The children would be well enough for the rest of the night, all the more as they had each other.

The End Part 1

TBC

Thank you all for reading, please review, the Cricket is hungry...

Chapter Text

With the rain hammering on the window from the rain, an intense rapid rhythm emphasised at times by the deep crashing of thunder the city of Minas Tirith was soaked in mere minutes. Rivers of water running down the paved streets from the mountain looming over the city, to the lower levels where a few unlucky ones would have found their roofs leaking and their houses not quite water tight.

So was it always in any city, though the as king Aragorn had done his best to ensure that all houses were at least liveable, even in those poorer sections that always exist. Shifting to glance to the window and the heavy darkness that shrouded the garden it overlooked a flash lit the whole room for a split second and he started easing the covers back, quiet, as he strove not to wake his wife. Elves were light sleepers at the best of times, and having a son seemed to have turned Arwen’s hearing all the sharper.

Biting back a wince as a soreness made itself aware over most his body, though he looked a fairly young man still, he felt years more keenly. Trouble from long standing enemies was what had taken him away from Minas Tirith, together with Éomer, King of Rohan. Trouble that he would have hoped to have been over, but yet never seemed to be. They had been successful in quenching the attempt at breaching their border, but it had not been without a fight.

A few men had lost their lives, both Rohirrim and Gondorian, and the fact pained him even more than his own minor wounds. The worst he sustained had been a pulled muscle in his shoulder, and a cut from a sword that slipped under his guard. Anduril, the flame of the west, his sword was enough to bring fear to their enemies as they laid eyes on it. Gúthwinë, battle friend, the sword belonging to Éomer was not as widely known, but just as badly feared by those that knew it.

Few lasted long against it, but perhaps he thought, the armour his friend wore was not equal to the sword, for the cuirass had not fully withstood a blow from a heavy spiked mallet. Fortunately, the ribs had not been broken, but his side had displayed an impressive mass of colour when Aragorn tended to him.

It was enough so that both men felt the years they had lived even though they both knew they should have many left.

Now, as he put his feet to the floor and found his slippers, a luxury he would never have considered as a ranger, he turned to smile at his wife. Though she had not spoken her eyes were open and he knew she had been watching him.

“With the storm raging so, I thought it best I check on the boys,” Éomer had brought his son Elfwine with him, as the boys certainly enjoyed spending the time together. There was little doubt of that, for as Elboron, who was with Faramir and Éowyn had been given the use of a sleeping chamber of his own, he did not wish to reside in it. He wanted to share with Eldarion, and Eldarion wanted his friends with him. Elfwine was yet small to be fully alone in a city that was not his home, but he would rather share with his cousin and his friend than with his father.

As he and Éomer were away, Aragorn knew the boys had taken great comfort from each other. While Elboron had the comfort of knowing that most often it was Aragorn and Éomer who left, while his father remained as Steward, he was also worried for his Uncle and the man he saw as an uncle. Something that Aragorn had come to enjoy greatly.

The three boys understood each other very well, they did not worry about shaming themselves for showing fear before the other boys.

“It might indeed have wakened them,” Arwen stated as she looked to the window, seeing the way a bolt of lightning chased in forks across the clouded sky. “And if it has, they might very well be frightened.”

“I would have done so yesterday, but I found I did not wake myself,” he mused. “Neither of them said anything about having been awake, but then they were wearied out by the excitement. It might be harder for them tonight.”

“If they are awake, bring them here,” Arwent instructed. “Even should Éomer or Faramir wake to look in on them later, they will not be worried if they are not there.”

“No, they shall know they have already been taken care of,” Aragorn nodded. Pulling a soft robe around himself he slipped out of the bed chamber. One of the first few times Elboron slept in Eldarion’s chambers, he had indeed woken from a bad dream. Eldarion at the time had not been comfortable knocking on Faramir’s and Éowyn’s door, so he had gone to his own parents with his young friend instead.

Ever since it had seemed natural for the three boys to simply pick the one they thought would be most approachable for the time being. Aragorn had found himself woken by either one at different times, and had never minded at all.

He slipped out into the corridor, and had to smile as he approached his son’s bedchamber. Just coming out of the room, softly closing the door behind him was the King of Rohan, raising one eyebrow as he regarded his fellow ruler.

Well, Aragorn had to admit he was a little self conscious about the ornate robe and slippers he wore, seeing Éomer in only shirt and breeches. Barefoot on the cold stone floor though he seemed not to notice, while Aragorn certainly felt the slight chill through the thin sole of the slippers.

“They are all asleep,” the blonde warrior stated.

“I am glad,” Aragorn nodded. “With the storm so bad, I thought they might have woken from it.”

“I should think they might have, if they had not been too wore out,” the younger man chuckled lightly.

At a whisper of a sound behind them, both turned, and both smiled to see Faramir come towards them. Garbed as Aragorn in soft robe and slippers to ward off the chill from the cold stone tiles. “Storm must have been worse than I thought, if everyone is awake,” the Steward mused.

“The boys are not, but everyone else would appear to be,” Éomer snorted. “I would have thought at least one of you would have had sense enough to take your rest.”

“I think, my friend, that you are not one to chastise us for not being asleep,” Aragorn mused. “As I believe you were up well before us.”

“Elfwine is fearful of storms such as this one,” the blonde warrior shrugged.

“I did not think a proper Rohir, of any age, were fearful of anything,” Faramir teased. “At least so I have been led to believe from my wife.”

“A lightning storm on a dry summer has me unable to sleep from fear,” the young King snorted. “And only a fool disregards the danger. I’ve seen the way a fire like that might rage, and it is not something to be taken lightly.”

“It is not,” Aragorn agreed sombrely. A bad fire in Edoras would cost people both their lives and their homes. The more that were on watch, the less the chance of it getting out of hand.

“And your wife is not one to say a word against it,” added Éomer with a snort. “For she is the very pest that would tear me from my sleep at first sound of thunder when we were young. A slammed door was sometimes enough to send her to my chambers, and she would not let me sleep until she was well satisfied, even though she herself had no trouble doing so again. I am surprised she is not awake now, or is she the one that sent you?”

“Nay, she’s wore out by the little one I think,” Faramir shrugged. “I woke by my own, and I only felt I should make certain the boys were well before I took my bed again.” Giving a wry grin he added. “I also felt it would be better should she wake. If she does, at the very least she’d send me to do so anyway. And at worst, my fate would have been much the same as you tell of, and I would have been put on watch for the rest of the night.”

“I imagine you would,” Éomer mused, though without even a note of sympathy. He had been bound to oblige his sister by the duty of an older brother. It was by all rights Faramir’s turn to suffer from her whims now. “How long is this likely to go on?” he asked of his brother by law, knowing he knew the weather of Minas Tirith better than either he himself or Aragorn.

“At most, another day or two,” Faramir shrugged. “They do not often last this long, but a bad one like this can. “Elboron tends to be frightened by them also, I had thought perhaps he would like to sleep in our chambers for the night. I truly did not expect to find him asleep, though he was a little weary through the day. Perhaps he is coming down ill,” he added a tone of worry in his voice. Only to find his brother by law to laugh quietly.

“It was not any illness that saw him tired,” Éomer grinned. “He and my own rascal woke Eldarion from their fear, and rather than drag one of us up, he saw fit to solve the problem himself, by distracting them with a kitchen raid. They all ate their fill and then some I should say, given by the spoils they had left behind them when they were done.”

“I was not aware,” Aragorn frowned. “Though we have certainly never told him he can not eat if hungry, the kitchen master usually lets me know if Eldarion has been there during the night.”

“Aye, I saw no reason why the man needed to know, so I cleared it up a bit after them,” Éomer shrugged. “Let them have a few secrets when they can, they’re boys, and they do not get up to near enough mischief I think.”

“I do not know if we need encourage them to bad behaviour, but a few snatched morsels of food I would not call such,” Aragorn mused. He should not be surprised that it was Éomer who had woken the night before. The young warrior had lost none of his alertness from his days as a rider, and he was ever even more attentive to the needs of the children. “I am however glad they were able to find some comfort in it. Though I would just as soon he had woken me and I could have tended to them.”

“Eldarion knows he could have, and would have if he felt it needed,” Éomer shrugged. “He enjoys taking the role of the elder too much to always relinquish it easily if he do not need to, and as devoted as he is to the other two, I have never seen a reason not to allow it. He does you proud Aragorn, they are all good boys.”

“That they are,” Faramir agreed. “And I would go as far as to say they might have had the right idea. I know I would rather take a moment before seeking my bed again, I can think of worse ways to spend the time than to find a honey cake.”

“That surprises me not,” Aragorn laughed softly. His Steward’s sweet tooth was something he was well familiar with. “What say you, my brother?” to his knowledge, a Rohir rarely turned down the opportunity for something to eat. They usually claimed one should always eat when given the opportunity, for one never knew when it would come again.

“I say we had best not let your Steward raid the kitchen unguarded, or there shall not be anything sweet left ere the morning,” Éomer snorted. “Though I would not call myself unwilling to find out if ought were left of that roast beef that was served. You spend far too much time on making fancy meals in Gondor. Though I will grant you that your cooks do know how to make a good hardy fare tantalising as well.”

In that, they were as alike as they were unlike one another Aragorn mused with a smile. Faramir had a great love for anything sweet, and was particularly fond of the honey cakes. Even so, any of the many sweet desserts and dishes would tempt him, and would frequently overpower his sense of duty and propriety with but the smallest encouragement. Éomer had little wish for the sweet and fancy dishes, though instead was easily tempted by such simple meals as meat and cheese piled high on bread and a tankard of ale. A plate of the various cold cuts of meat would indeed tempt him just as much as the berry tarts tempted Faramir.

As for himself, he would wager he would find more than one thing he might fancy in that large pantry in the kitchen. “Then let us not tarry,” he decided. “For we shall find more and better if we head there now, than if we wait until the kitchen staff is up.”

Leading the way Aragorn grinned as they entered the immense kitchen. It was truly something to behold, with not just one fire pit for a spit, but three, and several wood stoves and ovens for baking. There were cauldrons large enough to fit a man inside, and the room was pleasantly fragranced not only from the food but from the many bundles of herbs hanging from the ceiling.

It was all too easy for the three of them to enter the pantry at the same time, and soon plates were piled high with what titbits looked the most enticing. A soft delicate bread, white of colour and filled with fruit and honey, cold cuts of not only roast beef but honey glazed ham and beef pies. Aragorn found a bottle of wine to share with Faramir, while Éomer filled a tankard of beer.

It was then that Aragorn looked around the room, and took note the kitchen staff would indeed soon be up. While no one would think to stop the King and his Steward from indulging themselves with their guest, there were disadvantages to trying to take the meal in the kitchen as the staff sought to work. The master chef seemed to always wish to impose his own ideas of what the meal should consist of, and they did not always align themselves with Aragorn’s preferences. Certainly not his preferences for an impromptu midnight meal.

“We should not tarry here I think,” he mused. “Or we shall soon find that that which you would enjoy the most should be exchanged for potatoes, fruits and carrots…”

“We can not risk waking Éowyn, or she shall likely send us to go back with it all,” Faramir mused.

“Arwen would not be so cruel, but she might not approve entirely of our choices,” Aragorn mused as he regarded the plates.

“Unless the boys have woken and chosen to invade while I was gone, my chambers shall be empty,” Éomer shrugged. “And if they have, I’d say we have enough for them as well.”

“A very good solution, lead the way,” Aragorn beamed as he balanced his spoils. Though he knew he would be beyond reproach, he was still glad they were not seen on their way back, for he was not certain if they presented the picture of dignity, in naught but robes and slippers, or breeches and barefoot. It was certainly not how most their subjects thought of their kings.

Slipping into the King of Rohan’s chambers and depositing their burden of temptation onto a sturdy table, to be divided and shared in camaraderie, he was glad for the opportunity. It was rare these days to be only Aragorn, and not the ruler of Gondor. He would imagine that Éomer knew only too well that feeling, and enjoyed the same respite for himself. Though Faramir had been raised the son of the Steward and prepared for the duties, it had always been Boromir who was expected to take the duty. The same as Éomer had always believed he would live to serve Théodred as the King of Rohan.

They had all three been cast into the fray to fill positions they had never desiered, to perform a duty they had never thought they would be worthy of, and he knew they three sometimes doubted their success at the task.

To then have a few moments free of such heavy responsibility and doubt, to enjoy the respite while the thunder boomed outside and lightning chased across the darkened sky, was indeed a moment to be treasured greatly.

All the more so when it, as the food was eagerly shared between the closest of friends…

End Part 2

 TBC

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Chapter Text

Part 3

Eldarion had hoped the storm would abate, but it seemed to be one of those that went on for ages, at least several days. When the boys prepared to go to bed, rain was still pouring against the window. The thunder seemed to have mostly passed, though the wind was howling and there was the occasional crash as a tree fell, or something else was blown away and wrecked by the wind.

The fact that it had not let up had certainly caused Elfwine some distress and he had been a little despondent and dejected throughout the day. They could not go out and play outside, and there were only so much one could do indoors before the adults started looking annoyed. Certainly they made allowances for the fact that the children were cooped up indoors, but even so Eldarion had caught an annoyed look or two. Éowyn had chided them for being too loud around the baby, for which they had apologised. She had not been mad at them, but Eldarion had to agree it had been a thoughtless act.

A few of the servants had seemed more annoyed, but not dared to speak up against the King’s son, no more than they dared to say an ill word against the heir of Rohan. That did not mean the boys wished to make a nuisance of themselves. Instead they had taken their slightly more rowdy game to a corner of the throne room where there were nothing breakable and no babe to wake from a nap.

The stone floor however was not suitable for such games, and after Elboron had suffered a bruise on the forehead, Elfwine a partially black eye and Eldarion himself and skinned both elbows they had been forced to see this for a fact.

Now, as it approached the time they would be sent to bed Eldarion had noted both his friends were uneasy.

“We need not sleep in my chambers,” he offered. “I am certain Éomer king shall not mind if you wish to sleep in his.”

“I would not be scared, but I do not wish to,” Elfwine decided.

“Why do we not use the fort?” Elboron mused, carefully touching his forehead to feel the lump. “It was not scary at all there.” The blanket had been left, but even so, it was not much of a fort.

“I suppose we could,” Eldarion mused.

“And an apple braid,” Elfwine decided. “It was not scary, it was fun.”

“I do not know if Father would approve of us planning to do so,” Eldarion bit his lip. “I know we’re allowed if we wake and wish to, but it is a different thing to plan it.”

“Then we do not plan it,” Elboron, was a pragmatic child who saw no reason to invoke complications. “We have only to do so, we need not plan it.”

“Very well, but only if we can not sleep,” Eldarion felt that to be a reasonable compromise.

“We can ask Fæder to build up the fort better,” Elfwine suggested. “We need not say why, I want a story before we go to bed. We can have the story in the fort.”

“Aye, that we can,” Eldarion nodded. That was a good idea, there was nothing wrong at all with wanting a nice cosy blanket fort to hear a story in before one went to sleep.

The King of Rohan was also only too happy to oblige. Not only did he help them to construct a much sturdier blanket fortification, but he also sat with them in it to tell them a story of Rohan. Elfwine fell asleep almost instantly, and Elboron not long after. Eldarion was already dozing when he noticed that Éomer lifted first Elfwine, and then Elboron to their beds. So when he was picked up he only wrapped his arms around him.

At that time, he had expected Elboron to sleep through the night, he certainly thought he would. Then he found himself sitting bolt upright in his bed, the sound of a falling tree still echoing in his ears. Elfwine threw himself out of bed, running over to his bed and leaping onto it. Eldarion did not even think, he simply wrapped his arms around the smaller boy.

“It is okay,” it was the first rendering splinter of the tree trunk that had woke him, but he had heard the crashing sound of the trunk and the heavy snapping of the branches as it settled enough to know what it was. There wasn’t really many trees in Edoras though, Rohan was mostly open plains, so Elfwine would not know the sound. Judging by the look, he thought Elboron had. “It was only a tree that fell.”

“That loud?” Elfwine blinked.

“Aye, they are really loud, but I know the sound well,” Eldarion assured him.

“Oh,” the boy gave him a sheepish look. “I thought maybe it was an Orc.”

“If it had been an Orc, our fathers would have been in here long since to get us and our mother to safety,” Elboron stated. “And then they would have gone out and fought them.”

“I know that,” Elfwine glowered. “But it woke me, it’s hard to think right when you wake.”

“That it is,” Eldarion stated firmly, not wanting either of his friends to argue with the other. “And if there had been any danger, they would already have come here. We are safe.”

“Of course we are,” Elboron climbed out of bed to sit down next to Elfwine on Eldarion’s bed. “But I do not know if I could sleep again.”

“Not if it is going to sound like that,” Elfwine decided at a loud crack that Eldarion thought was a breaking branch.

“We could fetch a small snack and use the fort,” the heir of Gondor decided. “But we must be careful. Ada would not approve if we do this too much.”

“Mõdor would scold us very,” Elboron winced. “But she knows not we already have, if she had, she would not have been silent.”

Eldarion nodded at that, Éomer had obviously not told his sister then. It was hard sometimes to picture that Éomer and Éowyn whom he looked to as uncle and aunt were brother and sister. Certainly the King of Rohan was fiercely protective of her, but so he was of his own mother also. The King of Rohan would not stand idly by if one of his friends were in danger, and Eldarion knew well that should his own life, or that of Elboron be in danger, Éomer would fight with as much ferocity as if it had been Elfwine. While it was a comfort, it also frightened him. He was not related to Éomer by blood, though all the man treated him as kin, and to think that at some point, Éomer might save Eldarion’s life at the cost of his own was a horrifying thought.

Then also there was the way that Éomer and Éowyn would argue and tease one another, it seemed strange, though his mother told him she recalled such behaviour from her own dear brothers, so he supposed it was only strange because he had no sister himself. He certainly teased Elboron much the same way sometimes, and Elboron teased him back.

“I do not think she knows,” he decided, for certainly this was a matter that Éomer would not have seen the need to share with her. If he approved of them doing it so soon again he did not know, but Éomer was fair and would understand he felt. “But we must be very quiet and we must be careful not to be discovered,” he decided. He found his slippers and robe, Elfwine scrambling down to stand barefoot on the cold stone floor while Elboron paused, then shrugged and joined him. Not caring for slippers.

The corridors lay all empty, lit only enough that men could patrol them, and the three boys slipped quietly through them on their way to the kitchen.

They were so intent on looking ahead of them so as not to encounter anyone, that neither one looked behind them to see the man standing outside Eldarion’s door. Shaking his head, the large man followed them, quietly, staying in the shadows so that one casual glance behind them might not be enough to reveal his presence.

In the kitchen, the three boys stood themselves before the pantry, gazing at the laden shelves and the immense amount of food.

“We must try not to let it be seen we have been here, so no milk,” Eldarion decided.

“A good idea,” the deep voice behind them caused all boys to shriek, Eldarion managed to grab Elfwine by the shoulder and forced him in behind himself while Elboron scrambled to the side.

“Fæder!” Elfwine frowned, peeking out from behind Eldarion.

“We did not plan to do this, not really, we liked it, but we did not plan it certainly,” Eldarion rushed to explain. “We woke from a tree falling, and we were not sure we could go easily back to sleep.” He hesitated, the King of Rohan could look more intimidating than most men he knew. Even now in shirt and breeches, barefoot and with his blond hair tussled he looked a formidable man. Eldarion had seen him show anger, but never truly mad at one of them and he hoped never to have to experience that. “We will go back now,” he added in a small voice.

“No need,” Éomer put a hand gently on his shoulder. “I do not think you should make this a habit, but this storm has lasted days now, I think that allows for some leniency.”

“You are not cross?” Eldarion bit his lip.

“Nay, I am not, but I would suggest you exhibit more caution this time,” Éomer urged. “I know it must all look quite tempting, but one should never take more than one can eat, for you never know who might have better use for it later.”

“Aye,” Eldarion nodded.

“You all had a fairly nice supper, and you will all have food to break your fast on the morn, I should think a light snack would be all that was needed,” the blonde king decided.

“Aye,” Elboron agreed.

“Can we still have apple braid?” Elfwine frowned.

“We shall see,” Éomer scrutinised the shelves, then he frowned. “Hold there, quiet,” going back to the door he looked out, closing the door as he came back into the large kitchen and quickly grabbed Eldarion by the waist. “Quiet now, at least until they enter,” he urged. Lifting him up and depositing him in an empty cauldron well large enough to hide the heir from sight. Grabbing Elboron he hoisted him up on one of the higher shelves in the pantry, finding a spot large enough between half a roast duck and the remains of roasted venison. Elfwine, he nodded to hide behind a large clay urn containing pickled fruit that stood on the floor of the pantry.

Glancing over the rim of the cauldron Eldarion saw him slip to the side and all but disappear into the shadows in one of the corners. He hurriedly ducked as he realised someone coming through the door, he was not fearful, for had there been any danger Éomer would not have simply hidden them from view. He would have armed himself with meat cleavers and knives and sent the boys to safety.

“Their chamber is empty, I should say they are with Éomer,” the voice he heard was that of the Steward and Elboron’s father.

“And what reason had you for coming this way upon discovering this fact?” that voice belonged to his own father, and the King of Gondor, and Eldarion bit his lip to remain quiet.

“My wife woke me, and demanded I ensured they were safe, as they are not in their chambers, and not in yours, they can only be with Éomer. Though if I return now, my wife shall certainly wish for me to go there as well, to be certain,” Faramir stated. “I felt this to be the better option.”

“And you felt that to venture on such an adventure and leave our comrade in arms behind is fair?” Aragorn asked teasingly.

“We can not risk waking the boys, now can we?” Faramir mused.

As both men had passed him, Eldarion raised his head, from his vantage point, and knowing where to look, he could see where Elboron was hidden, but the two men in the pantry would not. Faramir was looking at the shelves, moving a turkey pie in the search of the honey cakes.

As Elboron reached a small hand forward to drop crumbs in his hair, the heir had to clasp his hands over his mouth to not laugh out loud.

Frowning, Faramir reached up a hand to scratch his head, then shrugged and continued his search.

On the floor, Elfwine peeked around the pot, and leapt forward to wrap himself around the Steward’s leg.

The shrill startled cry of the Steward was far too much for Eldarion to remain silent and he burst out into a laughter that echoed from the cauldron.

“Valar!” Faramir exclaimed.

“Uncle!” Elfwine beamed up at him. “I can not reach,” he pointed to a plate of hand pies just visible on a high shelf.

“I thought you were with your father,” Faramir frowned as he unwrapped the boy from his leg.

“We were,” the little blond warrior declared. “I can not reach, uncle…”

“And you thought that reason enough to scare the life out of me?” Faramir drew a deep breath, but he did reach for the pies, and leapt back as the face of his own son looked back at him. “Valar, what are you doing up there?”

“I can reach,” beaming Elboron took one of the pies from the plate and dropped it down to his friend.

“It would seem the boys were not where you thought them to be,” Aragorn mused as he stepped away from the pantry to where a choked laughter was echoing in the most strange fashion. Leaning over the cauldron, he fished out his son. “Prey tell me, how many more boys have you hid in here?”

“None, father,” Eldarion stated. He did not see how Éomer King could count as a boy.

“Is that certain?” Aragorn queried and he nodded.

“Do you doubt the word of your son and heir?” the voice of Éomer right behind him was enough to cause Aragorn to jump with a startled cry. The sound of the boys’ laughter had completely masked the sound of the young warrior moving. Without the usual cumbersome armour, the man was able to walk very quietly Aragorn mused. Though glancing at him, it was not so strange. Mail, armour and heavy boots were certainly always louder than a man barefoot and only wearing shirt and breeches. Even his own slippers would have been louder on the stone tiles he knew. Unless a man’s feet got so cold he did not feel how heavy his steps were.

“Nay, but I do think he might have volunteered more information,” he sighed. “Did you take the boys here then?”

“I rose to make certain they were well, and followed them unbeknownst,” he smiled. “Your son is not unskilled, but he is no ranger yet,” he ruffled Eldarion’s hair. “You need a bit more practice yet, but it is a skill I should think you able to learn soon.”

“The tree that fell woke us, but we were not scared enough to require help, only so much we did not wish to sleep,” Eldarion hurried to explain. “We were not going to take much, only a little, to help settle us for rest.”

“Given our own presence here, I do not think I have the right to scold you,” Aragorn shook his head. “Rather, I think I should enquire if we may join you?”

“We were going to take it back to my chambers and eat it in the fort,” Eldarion mused. “For you can not hear the storm so well then.”

“The fort sounds like a good idea,” Faramir decided as he carefully sought to extract his son from a platter of pastries. “Why do you not take a few of those?”

“Aye father,” Elboron selected several of the finest looking ones and passed them to his father before he allowed himself to be lifted down.

“Fæder, is there any apple braid?” Elfwine tugged lightly at his father’s shirt.

“We shall see,” lifting his son onto his arm the blonde King quickly found the remains of one.

This time, they all used more restrain in their selection, and Aragorn found a platter to hold it all to be carried to the boys room. Adding a small crock of milk for the boys to drink.

The fort had been well large enough for three boys to sit in and hear a story, but for three boys and three grown men, it was more crowded. Aragorn felt it safest to position himself between his steward and the honey cakes, and Éomer had lifted Eldarion as well as Elfwine into his lap. Elboron laid down on his belly, pillowing his head on Éomers thigh, and draping his legs over Aragorn’s lap.

“May we have a story?” he asked softly.

The boys were right, Aragorn mused, with the blankets hung as they were, the sound of the storm was actually muffled to some extent if not much. With the food, it seemed even further from mind, and when one added the soft melodious voice of the King of Rohan, as he told the story of the legendary horse, Storm Wing, and his race across the sky. Lightning striking from his hooves as they struck the clouds, and the mane blowing in the wind as it swept over the sky, it seemed to fade completely from mind.

The Rohirriim passed on their history in their stories, but some were better at telling them than others, and when Éomer spoke, even Aragorn found himself listening enthralled.

As the last passage of the story faded, not only three boys slept easily in the arms of their fathers, but so also slept the well seasoned warriors secure in the knowledge their sons were safe.

End Part 3

TBC

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Chapter Text

With the early morning came the rosy sky, tendrils of orange and pink twirling around each other as remnants of rain and damn still hung in the air. A damp chill had settled over the city, clinging to stone as it slowly gathered in deep pools, some to run down the steep hill, trickling down streets and stairs, some to gather in depressions. For many days little boys would find these pools and delight in the ability to see how wet they might arrive home.

It was chilly, but with the hope of warmth and sun, the first of either for several days now, with birds that had recently huddled quiet in what shelter they might find now singing and trilling as they went searching for worms and bugs.

Rising from her slumber the Elven Queen of Gondor took a moment to enjoy the sense of nature around her. Even in a city of stone she could feel the green of the garden and the mountainside where here and there bushes and flowers thrived.

No longer did she hear the heavy pounding of the rain and boom of thunder that had hounded them for days. Causing children and grown alike to be short of temper as no one could accomplish what they wished, be it needed work or play.

The little ones had suffered through it all she knew, as joyful as her own son had been to see his father, a sentiment she knew was shared by his younger friend Elfwine, it had been several dreary and weary days for them.

Even if Faramir had been present in the city he had not had much time for Elboron as he took over all the duties from Aragorn as he was away. With the young child Éowyn was likewise unable to pay her son all the attention she might have wished. Truthfully Arwen felt it was good that Éomer had brought his son with him, even if he had left Elfwine alone with them in the city. With Lothíriel seeing to the affairs of Rohan in the absence of the King, the child would have been lonely there as well. In Gondor he had his friends, and he knew sooner than even Éomer’s wife that he had returned safely to them.

She was immensely proud of her own son, for Eldarion had not only instantly agreed to share his chambers with his friends, but sought to look after them in every way the young boy was able. They were good friends, and she knew it would serve their Kingdoms well that the heirs were so close.

While the little Rohir was a mite wilder than the other two, he was a delightful and caring child that Arwen was very fond of. Elboron was a little calmer if not by much, and she thought it not unreasonable that the blood of the Rohirrim in his veins was the cause. He had much of Faramir’s gentle and caring nature even if the mischievous streak often showed more.

She loved them dearly and she was glad to see to their needs when they were placed in her care. If the difficult weather had caused them to act somewhat differently than normal she could not find it in herself to fault them for it. Rather, she had decided it was time to turn a blind eye to a few of their mishaps.

Sliding out from under the soft sheet she donned a robe before moving to the window, gazing out over the city of Minas Tirith. The white stone was still wet, and the rising sun reflected in the droplets, spreading a golden hue over the walls and streets. It was a beautiful display and one she found herself watching with a light heart.

If not fully unscathed, both her husband and their friend had returned from the battle in good enough health, though she wondered why her husband had not returned to their bed after he looked in on the boys. It was possible they had been frightened enough he had decided to stay the night, but she did not think so. Only the night before she had urged him that should he find them awake and ill at ease he should have brought them with him to their bed chambers. There were plenty enough room for three boys, and it would have allowed them to sleep in absolute safety and comfort.

If he had returned, only to wake early and move to see to his duties she would have known, for he had yet never been able to leave their bed without her knowing.

No, she would deem it much more likely that he had encountered one of the other worried fathers, either Faramir or Éomer. If they had found their offsprings calmly and at sleep she would not put it past the three men to find some mischief for themself.

In truth she would not mind, sometimes there was yet a shadow cast over Faramir’s eyes as the loss of his brother and father weighed heavily on him. Often enough she saw the same dark grief in Éomer’s eyes. The two had found a way to take comfort in each other, and it gladdened her.

Quickly brushing her hair and changing the robe for a dress and slippers she opened the door to search for her errant husband.

He would know better than to disturb the children she hoped, and therefore she first checked his study. If either Éomer or Faramir had been awake, it was not unlikely they would have gathered there. Eiter for work or for leisure they all three seemed quite well at ease in the bright room. Faramir was not above hiding there when he felt the courtiers and nobles too much to manage while working. For while Aragorn did not mind at all if his Steward took refuge there in his absence, so were the various nobles very reluctant to enter unless their King was there to grant permission.

The room was empty though and the hearth still cold. Knowing that if he was not there now, he would wish to go there later for the many duties that still remained after the conflict she ordered a fire to be lit. It would please him when the three of them retired there she knew, most likely after the morning meal.

She was approaching Éomer’s chambers, for to see if he was awake and in the possession of knowledge when a smile crept over her face. Coming from the other end of the corridor was Éowyn, a green dress hastily donned though her hair was neatly braided.

“Might I assume from your expression that you have found your husband to be equally errant as I have found mine?” Arwen asked with a smile.

“Aye,” Éowyn nodded. “I woke from the storm and bade him to ensure they were well. I had thought he would bring the boys to us if they were frightened. Yet it would seem I fell asleep afore he returned, and now I know not where he is. I would imagine my brother has found yet some way to make a nuisance of himself,” her voice was stern and her tone sharp, but there was a fond look in her eyes that belayed her words. Éowyn cared very deeply for her brother and Arwen knew it well. Yet she was very quick to speak harshly of him as if she did not wish him to know.

It was the love between them that had saved her after the Black Breath, and Arwen knew that Éomer would give his life for his sister without a seconds thought. She thought, sometimes, that this was why Éowyn spoke so harshly of him and was so quick to scold him. The siblings had lost both their parents very young, they had lost the uncle they had come to see as a father, first to a debilitating wickedness that ate his mind away, then after having him restored and returned to them but briefly they had lost him to a cruel death. The cousin they had seen as a brother had been lost to them before that, and the fear that she would lose her brother the same way weighed heavily still on the shieldmaiden of Rohan.

“Though you may not be wrong, I find it just as likely that Estel has found some way to lead them both into trouble,” she laughed lightly. “I had meant to see if Éomer is awake, though perhaps it would be more appropriate if y….” she broke off with no need to finish her sentence, for Éowyn had flung the door open.

She simply strode in without waiting for leave or even to see if her brother was awake. After but a brief look in the room Arwen had followed. The bed was rumpled, and the covers thrown back haphazardly, there was no doubt it had been used but the occupant was not in the chambers. Yet Arwen felt he would not have gone far. On a chair a leather jerkin was thrown on top of a tunic. His boots under it, one standing and one lying where it had been dropped. Socks that might have benefited from a washing but were not too badly off lay next to them.

The armour was in perfect order though, cleaned and carefully tended, all but the mail shirt and the cuirass which had been taken by the weaponsmith for repairs. Something badly needed upon their return, and it caused the faintest shiver to run through her. Éowyn turned around, taking in the room.

“He never did know how to pick up after himself,” she snorted though the room was in good enough order. Even so she picked up the tunic which showed a small tear, bundling it up and slipping it under her arm. To be mended Arwen knew, for she was usually very fast to see to her brother’s clothes even if she no longer had any obligation to do so. It was one way she choose to show her love for him, and Arwen was fairly certain both Éomer and Lothíriel were well aware of it. The Flower of Dol Amroth had not spoken one word against it though well she might have done. Instead she had ever in good grace relinquished the task to her sister by law. “He must make a horrible impression, as if we had never been taught any manners.”

“I do not think he is any worse than Estel,” she smiled lightly. “I am glad to call Éomer family, just as I claim you,” she put a hand on Éowyn’s arm, glad to see the smile that slowly crept over her face.

“There are worse brothers one could have,” she conceded.

“Indeed,” Arwen smiled. “Though if not here, I wonder where they are? Estel’s study is empty, and the morning meal has not yet been served. I should not think they have gone riding already. Not without letting one of us know.”

“Éomer would, but not Faramir,” Éowyn nodded.

“Indeed not,” Arwen mused. “I suppose they might still be with the boys, but I had not thought they would.”

“We had better see anyway,” Éowyn decided. “Or I shall know no peace.”

“I think we had indeed best see,” Arwen agreed. Reaching Eldarion’s chambers she carefully pushed the door open, and raised a hand to her face, as if her smile would wake the occupants in the room.

Quiet as only an Elf might be she slipped into the room to make room for Éowyn. The Princess of Ithilien crept into the room after her on soft soled shoes. Nary a sound to reveal her presence in the room. The smile that spread over her face was pure enjoyment and love.

Eldarion’s bed was empty and cold, as was the beds placed there for the other two boys, but they were indeed there. The blankets that had been at first constructed haphazardly by the boys had been reinforced by the adults before they put the boys to bed. This Arwen already knew. At that time though, it had only been three boys in it, now, it was full to capacity and then some.

Her own beloved Estel was leaning dangerously to the side against the wall of the fort, with Elboron’s legs sprawled over his lap. Obviously why he had not moved, though on his other side Faramir had come to rest against his shoulder. One hand on top of Elboron’s legs, though if it was to offer his son comfort, or to reach the plate on Estel’s other side Arwen could not tell. Crumbs of what might have been honeycakes still remained on the plate, so she felt indeed she might have made a guess. Opposite the two of them, and yet partially under Elboron who had pillowed his head on his lap sat Éomer. An armchair on the outside of the fort was all that kept him from falling onto his back, one arm firmly wrapped around Eldarion and the other tucking Elfwine into his side. The three boys would be fine she knew, they would be no worse for their strange sleeping position, but the men would all be stiff and sore upon waking. The angle at which Faramir had come to rest his head on Estel’s shoulder promised a crick in his neck she did not envy him. Likewise she felt her beloved would suffer the same affliction. While Éomer had an advantage of the armchair, there was a chill in the room and neither he nor the boys were very well dressed.

“I think perhaps we might let them rest a bit longer,” she spoke in the barest whisper though Éowyn seemed to hear well enough.

“This once I think we might,” she nodded, smiling softly as she sough to commit the scene to memory.

Humming softly, a tune of the Elves that would help to ascertain that they all remained asleep Arwen took two pillows from the bed as well as the blanket. While the power of the music soothed them and allowed them to find peace in their slumber she gave her husband and the Steward the pillows so they would be more comfortable. Arranging the blanket over the three boys and the King of Rohan.

Stepping back on silent feet she was satisfied they were as comfortable as they could be without being woken. Together with Éowyn she withdrew quietly from the room, closing the door behind them.

“Where is the little one?” she queried lightly.

“Still asleep when I woke,” Éowyn smiled softly. “I left the nurse to watch him. He shall be up soon and cause far enough ruckus.”

“He is an adorable little boy,” Arwen smiled softly. “He reminds me of both Elboron and Elfwine at that age.”

“A little more quiet than either, thankfully,” Éowyn smiled. “Though if he is wakened from his rest too early he is louder than Elboron ever was. I much prefer to let him sleep when I am able.”

“He is adorable, and today I think the boys will be able to take him outside to play for a bit,” Arwen smiled. With the little one only being three, he was too young to join in most their games. Even so the older children would frequently take him with them when requested to do so. He really was a sweet little boy with the temper of a true Rohir when displeased, and the sweet gentle nature of Faramir at all other times. When he was grown, he would be a very fine young man she mused. “I think we might request some porridge with fruit for him to break his fast,” she smiled. “That should give him the energy for it.”

“Aye, it should,” Éowyn agreed. “Faramir would be glad for it also.”

“We shall see to it that they all have a good meal to break their fast,” Arwen smiled. “Then I for one shall not mind to be able to sit in the garden for a bit. We may watch the boys from there and let the other three see to themselves.”

Smiling softly, Éowyn nodded as she followed her to the small more private dining room where the morning meal would be served. Her mind was still on the scene in Eldarion’s chamber. Rare was it to see her brother and husband so well at ease and carefree. Even in more peaceful times they were not often able to allow themself such. To have seen them so now, was something she would treasure always….

…though that did not mean she would not eventually tease her brother mercilessly for it….

…after all, it was her duty as a sister.

End Part 4 Epilogue

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