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Éowyn was going to go to bed when she thought that she might check with Idis that Thorongil was coping with Emyn Arnen. The poor boy had looked a little out of his depth and overwhelmed at times. Éowyn thought he was just perfect for her daughter: she had always worried that Idis had fallen through the cracks because she was the middle child, overwhelmed by the dominating personalities of some of her brothers and sisters. Idis had run away to the Elves frequently as a child, to the extent that the Elves set up a little bower for her to stay in, so she could read her books in peace and quiet. The Elves had seemed to regard her as a sweet stray kitten to be petted and fed and returned home neatly brushed.
As she passed Idis’s bedroom, she knocked on the door. When there was no answer, Éowyn pushed open the large wooden door, and peeked in to check her daughter was well.
Idis was not there. She looked at the neatly folded sheets and unindented pillow. “Idis?” she called softly. There was no answer, so she padded into the bathroom, but all was dark there too.
Éowyn left Idis’s bedroom and wondered what was going on. Idis had yawned and said she was going to bed an hour earlier. Perhaps she had been unable to sleep and gone to the library.
She padded up to the library. The only person there was Faramir, who was reading a book, a serious expression on his face. As she approached, he looked up and smiled. “Hullo love, what are you doing here?”
“Have you seen Idis?” she said.
“No, I think she went to bed.”
“I just want to check that Thorongil has not been overwhelmed.”
Faramir frowned. “I know. It must be hard for the poor boy.”
“I am going to head to bed myself,” she told her husband. However, as she left the library she suddenly decided to make a diversion to the guest wing.
She walked very quietly down the corridor of the guest wing. A hoot near the window made her jump, but it was just a hunting owl: she saw it ghost through the treetops, after some squeaking thing.
When she got to Thorongil’s bedroom, she paused, feeling awkward. If she was caught, she would just say that she wanted to check on his comfort. She stopped at the closed door and listened. Everything was quiet, to her relief, other than a soft snoring sound.
She pushed open the door to the room, so that it was slightly ajar. The first thing she noticed, in the dim light of the lamp guttering on the bedside cupboard, was that the floor of the bedroom was strewn with clothing. The second thing she noticed was that Thorongil was sleeping on his back, snoring, and had no shirt on. The maternal part of her wanted to cover him up and turn him on his side to stop snoring so that he did not get a sore throat. The third thing she noticed was that her daughter was curled up next to Thorongil, just like she used to curl up in the Elves’ bower when she was a little girl. Éowyn was quite sure that they were both unclothed under the blankets.
Éowyn softly closed the door again, and wondered what to do. Obviously she was not going to say anything right now, but she would have to speak to Idis in the morning. She felt vaguely unclean for even looking at the couple in that state, but on the other hand it was better than she knew what was going on.
She went up to her bedroom, changed into her nightgown, and then went and sat in Faramir’s bedroom and waited for him to come back. Usually he fell asleep later than she did, and if she needed sleep she would go to her own bed. Beru was lying on Faramir’s bed in a fluffy cat circle. She lifted her shaggy, tawny head in anticipation of her favourite person, and blinked huge yellow eyes at Éowyn with disappointment, once she saw that it was only the alternative interloping human.
“Sorry, Beru,” Éowyn said to the cat. “He will be here soon.” Beru tucked her nose back under her tail, and closed her eyes.
Éowyn looked at the giant tower of books by the side of her husband’s bed with equal amounts of fondness and irritation, and chose one to read. After some time, Beru got up and stretched, sniffed Éowyn’s leg, wound about her ankles a few times, and then jumped on her lap.
“Ooof!” Éowyn said to Beru. “You are heavy.” Beru rubbed her head under Éowyn’s chin, kneaded Éowyn’s knees with her huge paws, and then settled down to sleep again. Evidently she had decided that the alternative interloping human would suffice in the absence of her preferred person.
Faramir arrived about an hour later, and Beru jumped off Éowyn’s lap with delight and wound about his legs. “I thought you were going to sleep, my love.”
Éowyn put down the book. “I was, but I found Idis.”
Her husband looked distant. “She is asleep and very happy.”
Éowyn snorted. “Yes, she is. The question is: where is she asleep? I feel bad for looking, but I discovered it is not in her own bed. This is why she is so happy.”
Faramir blinked, and straightened from patting Beru. “Idis?”
Éowyn laughed. “You should not be so shocked.”
“But, Idis—?”
Éowyn made a face at her husband. “You remember what it was like.”
Her husband blushed, even now, after all these years. “Aye, I do. It was difficult to wait until marriage.”
“I suspect Idis was the instigator of this. As various people have noted to me, she has complained incessantly about Thorongil being so far away from her room. She has argued with Ecthelion repeatedly about why the rules have to be different for men and women. And of course the boy leaves tomorrow morning—”
Her husband rolled his eyes. “I do not know who Idis takes after, my love.”
Éowyn laughed. “This is the reason why I am not outraged, darling. In some ways—we are lucky this has only happened with one of our children—”
Faramir sighed and picked up a purring Beru. “I shall have to tell them off. That is the thing that fathers should do in this circumstance, is it not?”
“It depends. I will to talk to Idis tomorrow.” Éowyn grimaced. “I felt bad for even looking at them. There was something innocent and beautiful about the way they were nestled there together.”
“It is better to know now than later,” said Faramir, echoing Éowyn’s earlier thought. Then he shook his head. “I still cannot believe that she did this.”
Éowyn made a face at her husband. “It happens that I once knew a man who decided after ten days that he must wed a woman he had only just met, when he had never expressed interest in another—”
Faramir laughed. “Idis is a dangerous combination of you and I, upon reflection.”
“Do you remember the incident in the Gardens, when Éomer got so angry?” said Éowyn, standing.
Faramir looked embarrassed, and put Beru down on the bed. “Imagine if he had found us in my office? You recall—?”
Éowyn laughed and slipped her hands under her husband’s shirt. “It started like this, I recall.”
Faramir smiled. “So it did. Thou wilt sleep in my bed tonight—?”
Éowyn did not bother to answer. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words.
The next morning, Éowyn was awoken by Faramir’s bedroom door being flung open. Their youngest son, Dior stood in the open doorway, panting. “Mummy, Daddy, Idis is threatening to kill Ecthelion and they are having a huge fight.” His eyes went round. “I think Idis has been improper, of all people, but she is very angry Ecthelion is telling her off, for some reason—”
Éowyn met her husband’s eye and shook her head. This was a disaster.
Faramir sighed and shrugged on a dressing gown. “Thank you, Dior. We will deal with it.” Dior retreated.
Éowyn put on a dressing gown too, hurriedly, watched by an offended Beru: Dior had woken her and the haste with which Faramir and Éowyn had gotten out of bed had dislodged her from her place on their legs.
It was easy to hear that the fight was moving upwards towards them: they could hear Idis shriek, “You hypocritical dog, Ecthelion! How dare you? How dare you—? I know what it is you do—”
“I told you not to do this, Idis,” said Ecthelion. “I actually quite like women, but I do not want to beget a child carelessly, and so I have chosen other paths. I thought you were intelligent?”
Another male voice said something unintelligible, followed by hysterical sounding laughter.
Idis shouted, “Go away, Ecthelion, and do not preach at me. Go back to bed with your lover and leave us alone—!”
“Idis!” said Ecthelion. “What are you talking about?”
Faramir and Éowyn winced as they looked at each other. “O dear,” said Éowyn faintly. “I did not think Idis knew.”
“It is obvious,” said Faramir. “I discovered a few months ago that Idis has known for some time; in fact, she was the one who suggested Beren should be invited to a family function—”
They hurried towards the shouting. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, they saw that Thorongil was wearing only a shirt. He was shamefacedly attempting to both put on his trousers with one hand, and restrain Idis with the other, and doing a very bad job of both. Idis was wearing only a man’s dressing gown, and her utter lack of shame about this was in stark contrast to that of her beau’s.
On the other side, Ecthelion’s friend Beren had a hand to his head. “Ecthelion, calm down,” he said. “I do not understand what is happening?”
“I agree with Beren,” said Faramir. “Everyone needs to calm down.” Everyone turned to look at him and Éowyn with horror. Éowyn was very worried at that moment that Thorongil was going to faint. He turned a greenish-white colour, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes.
“Daddy, Ecthelion is putting his nose in my private business—!” said Idis, pulling her gown closed swiftly.
“Father, I am afraid I found Idis in Thorongil’s bed this morning—!” said Ecthelion at the same time.
“I do not think Thorongil is feeling well,” Éowyn told Faramir.
“I am happy to do the honourable thing,” said Thorongil quietly, opening his eyes again. “No one is listening to me.”
“Nay, they are not,” said Beren looking at Thorongil and shaking his head. “You look very pale and unwell, it is true.”
“I do not understand why you even came into the room anyway,” said Idis.
“I told you, I was going to ask Thor if he wanted to go fishing,” said Ecthelion. “But instead I was treated to a view of his bare backside—”
Thorongil turned bright red and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Idis leaped in. “It is not as if you are not accustomed to seeing bare backsides of men, Ecthelion. So just go away and go back to bed and look at your lover’s bare backside instead—”
“What lover?” said Ecthelion and Beren at the same time, turning to each other in confusion.
“O do not pretend you have not been swyving each other!” cried Idis, and Thorongil put one hand to his face.
“Idis, be quiet,” said Faramir.
“I do not understand—” said Beren.
“O by the Valar, she thinks we are lovers, Beren,” said Ecthelion, turning to his friend.
It was Beren’s turn to go pale. “But, what? Nay, nay, we are just very good friends.”
“Not that there is anything wrong with that,” put in Éowyn, thinking of her cousin Théodred.
“Nothing wrong at all,” said Faramir.
Ecthelion gaped at his parents, and opened his mouth but nothing came out.
At this point, Thorongil had evidently gotten his trousers fastened properly. He got down on the floor and knelt. “Idis, my love, wilt thou marry me?”
Idis turned around and beamed. “Aye, happily.”
“But hold,” said Beren. “Let us go back a step from marriage proposals. What is this about bare backsides?”
Ecthelion sighed. “You see, now, that Beren is the most conservative man in the world. I doubt he has ever thought about a male bare backside before. We are just friends.”
Beren turned to Ecthelion and gaped. “Do you think about male bare backsides?”
Ecthelion coloured and looked down. “Do not worry, I do not think about yours. It is of no use thinking about someone’s intimate parts unless there is detailed consent.” He glared at Idis.
“O not this again,” said Idis. “If you must know, I got Thor’s enthusiastic consent, and I am not taking one of your wretched forms: I do not even want to read it—”
Thorongil put his face in his hands again. “Idis, your parents do not need to know these details.”
Éowyn sighed. “Ecthelion and Beren, would you please leave us? We will talk to you later, Ecthelion.” She was bitterly disappointed that Beren was only Ecthelion’s friend. She had thought that Beren would be a nice calming influence on her wildest son.
“Aye, Mother,” said Ecthelion. “It seems we have much to talk about.”
“Not really,” said Faramir. “The main thing you need to know, son, is that we love you.”
Ecthelion’s eyes suddenly filled with tears and he turned away. “I must go. I will return later.”
“We really are just friends,” said Beren plaintively. Then he followed Ecthelion, and Éowyn watched them go with worry.
“And I really do want to marry Idis,” said Thorongil, from where he was still kneeling on the floor. “It is just that I do not want pink dresses and all that fuss. Can we not elope?”
Idis rolled her eyes. “Did you not hear Morwen, dear Thor? It is not pink, it is rose, apparently. Rose will be the death of me.”
Éowyn shook her head. “Your death will come by Spring if you do not fit into that wretched dress because you are with child, Idis. We are of no matter compared to Morwen’s astounding rage if this transpires.”
Faramir snorted in an effort to cover a laugh. “Well, Thorongil, come to my office, and I shall tell you off.”
Éowyn watched her husband lead the woebegone young man away. Then she turned to Idis. “How did this happen? Like Ecthelion, I thought you were more sensible than this.”
Idis coloured. “It is not fair! The boys get to have all the fun and I did not see why I should not say goodnight to Thor, because—and then … things just got out of hand.”
“I suppose that there may be a need for a hasty wedding?”
Idis looked at her mother from the corner of her eye. “We were wondering if once was enough?”
“Only once?” said Éowyn, narrowing her eyes at Idis. She doubted Idis was telling the truth, given that Ecthelion had caught them this morning, and she had seen them in bed the previous night.
“Ecthelion interrupted us before the best part, the second time,” said Idis, with immense disappointment. “He is very annoying.”
Éowyn turned away so that Idis could not see her laugh. “So you might potentially be with child? Let us go back to your bedroom, and we will discuss this in private. And yes, once is enough, at least for the women in this family. Remember, we are not entirely Númenórean—”
As they strolled down the corridor, Idis said, “I am disappointed about Beren.”
“So am I,” said Éowyn.
Idis looked at her sidelong. “I am surprised at you being so—?”
Éowyn laughed. “That is because you did not know my late cousin or Father’s late brother, each of whom preferred men. At least Ecthelion is much more controlled and appropriate than either of them.”
“Ah. I suspected Uncle Boromir, but I did not know of Cousin Théodred,” said Idis. “Have you seen Thel’s wretched form? I skimmed it. It is insane, but yes, exceedingly controlled in a very strange way—”
“Nay, and I have no desire to see it,” said Éowyn. “We are all a little unusual in our own ways in this family.”
When they got back to Idis’s room, Éowyn sat down on the bed, while Idis got dressed. Then Idis turned to her mother, but did not meet her eyes. “The sheets in Thor’s room are a mess.”
“Pray, what were you planning to do about that, Idie?”
“I was going to sneak them down to the laundry, and soak them in cold water, and then put them in the general wash,” said Idis.
“Someone would have noticed,” said Éowyn. “This does not seem to have been a very well-planned seduction.”
“We did not actually mean to—” said Idis.
“If you turn up in a man’s bedroom in the night and strip off your clothing, what do you think is going to happen, Idis?”
“How did you know?” Idis coloured. “O, no, Father did not—?”
“I checked Thorongil’s room last night to see if he was well. I was worried that he was overwhelmed. And so he had been, but in quite a different way to how I had thought,” said Éowyn.
“Ecthelion is so annoying,” said Idis.
“Ecthelion is not totally off the mark,” said Éowyn. “You are in a position of vastly more wealth, power and influence than your beau, and I deem he is not particularly worldly. Thorongil turned grey and almost fainted when he saw your father and I just before—”
“He did?” said Idis, freezing.
“Aye, he did. You were too busy fighting with Ecthelion to notice.”
Tears began to run down Idis’s face. “I did tell him he should not feel obliged to marry me if I am not with child. Of course, I will be very sad if he does not, because I love him dearly, but—”
“What did he say to that?” said Éowyn.
“He said that he had already been thinking about proposing to me before—” Idis started to sob in earnest. “Why do I always ruin things? Either I do not do enough, or I do too much. And I cannot get it right.”
“Ecthelion did not behave very well either,” said Éowyn. “He really should not have burst in on you like that. Daddy and I were going to talk to you both today, and all this could have been dealt with quietly, without tears and shouting.”
Idis was not listening: she was bawling. “I might have ruined Morwen’s wedding, and O no, if I am with child, will Thor still be able to go to Harad as he was planning, and—”
“Stop, stop,” said Éowyn. “Everything can be fixed. Thorongil is happy to marry you, and your dress can be let out if you are pregnant. When will you know?”
“Five days,” said Idis.
“Well, I think the plan is for a very quick private wedding if you are pregnant, and one six weeks later if you are not,” said Éowyn. “Both Elboron and Cirion both told me privately that they thought you two should be married sooner rather than later. Cirion was thinking of saying something to Thorongil next week.”
“Thor is really worried Cirion is going to kill him,” said Idis, sniffling.
“Once we explain, Cirion will probably think it is hilarious,” said Éowyn. “Also, before you cry yourself into a puddle, you are not the only one in this family who has been interrupted in a compromising position by your brother—”
Idis blinked tears away. “I am not? I never heard anything about Finduilas—or Morwen—?”
“That is because it was neither of your sisters,” said Éowyn. “It was me.”
Idis gaped. “Mother!”
“Well, this is why I do not want you to be too harsh on yourself,” said Éowyn. “Your poor father was terribly worried that everyone would think he was a terrible man, even though we kept our clothing on … well, most of it—although perhaps it was fortunate Éomer arrived when he did, given how quickly we later conceived children.” She shrugged. “Éomer took me back to Rohan three days later, and I was constantly chaperoned by Elfhelm in the meantime—”
Idis stared at her mother. “But I cannot imagine that Father—?”
“O, I started it; he would never start such a thing,” said Éowyn, then grinned. “I am guessing you started it too? Because really, these very prudish men of Gondor are such fun to tease.”
“They are,” said Idis, blushing. “Father will not be too harsh on Thor, will he?”
“No. In the end, we are just happy to see you happy, and we will deal with whatever comes now.” Éowyn took Idis’s hand. “I worry very much that I was not a good mother to you, Idie, that because you were in the middle, and I was not in a good state after I had you—”
Idis embraced Éowyn. “Nay, I would not have any other mother.” They held each other for a long time.