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Year 1442, Shire Reckoning
Buckland
Éomer Brandybuck was excited. A few days ago, he had overheard his older brother, Boromir, talking to Faramir Took about going somewhere. Yesterday, he listened in on their conversation again, and he heard what time they would be leaving. Where they were going and for what reason, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted to come, too. And so, he stayed up all night long, hoping that he would be able to follow his brother when he left the house; of course they never would have allowed him to come if he had asked them, so he had to follow them and reveal himself once they were already too far from home for him to be turned away. Oh yes, he had thought this through quite a lot in the last few days.
In order to stay awake, Éomer filled a small bag with his favorite toys and a couple of rolls he had swiped from the dinner table when his mom had her back turned. He also changed his clothes about five different times, trying to find the perfect outfit to wear for the occasion. He didn’t know what one was supposed to wear on an adventure, and he couldn’t ask his dad what he wore when he went on his adventure, because then he would’ve had to tell him what he planned to do. It wasn’t fair that he didn’t get to do as many fun things as his older brother did. He was already six years old and almost a full-grown hobbit! He was too old to be treated like a child!
Éomer flinched when he heard a door open. He tiptoed to his door—or did the best that he could with his large hobbit feet—and cracked it open, just to make sure it wasn’t his parents. But the figure that crept down the hall in the dimness of the early morning was too small to be his mom or dad. It was finally time!
After he grabbed his bag from the bed, Éomer stepped over his wadded-up clothes that had been left strewn all over the floor and crept out of the room, sneaking down the hall like his brother had a moment ago. He listened for any sign of Boromir, and he followed a sound to the kitchen, and he kept hidden around the corner as he watched his brother wrap something up in a cloth and tuck it into his own bag. Éomer waited for Boromir to leave the kitchen before trailing after him.
Boromir went out the front door and closed it softly behind him. Éomer peeked out the window to watch what direction his brother was headed, but he remained in the yard and hadn’t gone anywhere. He did a few stretches before sitting in one of the rocking chairs. Éomer rubbed at his eyes, which were beginning to sting. Why hadn’t his brother left, yet? What was he waiting for? If he didn’t hurry up then their parents would wake up and catch them trying to sneak out of the house. And then they’d never get to go on an adventure ever again because they would be grounded forever!
He danced on his toes anxiously, looking over his shoulder every few seconds and listening for any signs that his parents were awake. He was just about to make a run for it and let his older brother get in trouble on his own when Boromir stood up from the rocking chair and picked up his bag from where he had set it on the ground.
The front gate squeaked as it was pushed open, and a figure entered the yard, but it was still too dark for Éomer to see who it was. And then the newcomer spoke, and Éomer immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Faramir Took. His brother said something, and they exchanged a few more words, but their voices were muffled and he couldn’t understand what they were saying. And then his brother adjusted his bag on his shoulder and walked with Faramir to the front gate, and it creaked again as they opened and closed it.
When his brother and Faramir were becoming harder to see through the window, Éomer stepped outside and quietly shut the door behind him. He went over to the hedgerows and peeked over the top, and after watching their figures shrink in the distance, he slowly opened the gate, wincing every time it creaked. Then, keeping the gate open as wide as it would go, he made a dash for the nearby tree and hid behind it. The gate creaked as it swung shut and clanged noisily. He heard his brother’s voice, but he didn’t dare move from his spot. Faramir said something, too, and then they were quiet.
Éomer’s eyes darted around nervously, trying to listen for their voices or footsteps should they turn back around to investigate. However, after sparing a look around the side of the tree, he saw that they had started walking again, away from the house. He was also worried that the gate slamming shut might have awakened his parents, so he adjusted his pack on his shoulder and began the trek up the hill.
~*~
“I feel like we’re being followed,” Boromir said.
“You think so?” asked Faramir.
“Yeah. I don’t know what it is, but I definitely feel something.” When he finished speaking, he suddenly whipped around and scanned the area. A small figure about fifty yards behind them darted into the trees. “See? I knew I wasn’t crazy! And I think I already know who it is, too.”
Faramir followed at a relaxed pace while Boromir stormed down the hill and stopped just outside the tree line. Boromir crossed his arms and tapped his foot in the grass.
“Alright, come out of hiding. You’ve already been caught.” Silence. He tapped his foot again. “I know it’s you, Éomer.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said a voice, though it sounded like a child who was trying to make their voice sound deeper than it actually was. Boromir growled and stomped into the trees, emerging a few seconds later holding a small hobbit-child by the scruff of his neck. “Hey!”
“What do you think you’re doing here?” Boromir asked as he roughly released his brother, who stumbled a few steps and struggled to remain upright.
“I wanted to come with you on your adventure!”
“On our what?”
“Your adventure! I overheard you guys talking about how you were going somewhere, and I wanted to come, too!”
“You mean you were droppin’ eaves, I reckon. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re going to be in when you get home? Mom is probably already ripping her hair out!”
"W-well… y-you’ll be in trouble, too! If you don’t tell on me then I won’t tell Mom and Dad about how you snuck out of the house!” Boromir furrowed his brow.
“Huh? What’re you goin’ on about? I didn’t sneak out. Mom and Dad already knew where I was going today; that’s why Mom packed me a small lunch last night.” Éomer’s slightly bloodshot eyes widened.
“Then… then why were you sneaking around the house this morning?”
“So I wouldn’t wake anyone up, duh,” Boromir said and rolled his eyes. Éomer’s bottom lip began to tremble. “Now, turn around and go back home before you scare Mom out of her wits.”
“But I don’t want to! Not by myself!”
“Well, we’re not gonna take you all the way back. We’ve got important places to be.”
“Maybe your parents will think he came with us,” Faramir said. Boromir raised an eyebrow. “It’s too late to take him back now, but I don’t see the harm in him staying with us. And he even packed a bag.”
“Let me see that.” Boromir wrested the bag from Éomer’s hands and started fishing around in it. “Why did you bring a bunch of toys with you? Where’s your food and clothing?”
“What would I need clothes for? And I do have food! I packed two rolls from supper last night!”
“Oh… so that’s where the missing dinner rolls went…” Boromir said slowly. “But still, what’s the deal with the toys?”
“They’re—” Éomer frowned and dug his toes into the grass. “I brought them with me because they’re my friends. I don’t have any others.”
“What about Bilbo?” Sam and Rosie’s son, Bilbo, was the same age as Éomer.
“He doesn’t like me. And he’s always playing with his sisters, anyway. None of his brothers like to play with me, either, because they’re all older. So, my toys are my friends. I talk to them and they listen to me.”
Boromir closed his eyes and let out a groan. While he was annoyed with his little brother for following them and making them waste time, he couldn’t be too mad at him, now that he’d mentioned that he didn’t have any friends. He closed the bag and pushed it against his brother’s chest before crossing his arms again.
“Fine, you can come with us. Just don’t slow us down, ya hear?”
“I won’t, I promise!”
“Come on, Faramir, let’s go,” Boromir said with a sharp nod in the direction they were going. Éomer slung his bag over his shoulder and skipped excitedly after them.
“Yippee!”
~*~
“How much longer do we have to wait?” Éomer whined. He was lying on his back in the grass and looking up at the sky with a pout.
They had walked for an hour before coming to a part of the Brandywine River that was halfway between the villages of Bucklebury and Standelf. It was a quiet area that was sparsely populated, so the fish in the river were more likely to be around here. Except for one problem.
“Even longer if you don’t quit asking questions and scaring the fish away,” Boromir grumbled. Éomer wriggled in the grass and kicked his feet.
“I’m bored! Let’s do something else!” When his brother ignored him, Éomer sat up and huffed. “What are you gonna do if you catch a fish, anyway? Are we having it for lunch?”
“Of course not. Whenever we catch a fish, we always pull it off the hook and drop it back in the river.”
“Huh? What’s the point if you’re not keeping them?”
“It’s just the way things are done.”
Boromir tugged a blade of grass out of the ground and stuck it between his teeth; he shifted on his bottom to get more comfortable. Éomer groaned and stomped his feet angrily. Faramir glanced over his shoulder and then leaned toward his friend.
“Maybe we should do something else,” he whispered. “It’s not fair that he can’t join us.”
“Well, he shouldn’t have followed us in the first place.”
Faramir shook his head and rolled his eyes. He brought his line back in and set the pole on the ground.
“I’m getting a little bored, too. Why don’t we do something else?” Boromir rounded on him and glared.
“Traitor.” Faramir returned the glare with a very Tookish grin.
“Finally! Like what? Go find a secret cave with trolls in it? Or look for buried treasure? Or—?”
“How about something we can do right here? Like skipping stones.”
“That’ll definitely scare the fish away,” Boromir sighed. He pulled in his line and forcefully tossed the pole off to the side.
“Skipping stones? What’s that?” Éomer asked.
“Hmm, let me see…” Faramir walked along the riverbank and reached into the water occasionally. When he returned to the others, he held several flat stones cupped in his hands. He kept one and set the rest on the ground. “You want to find smooth, flat stones like these. Round and bumpy stones won’t skip. So, what you do is you hold the stone between these three fingers, and then you throw it sideways, like this.”
Faramir twisted his upper body and leaned back on his right foot. He brought his arm forward and flicked his wrist, and the stone skipped three times across the surface.
“Let me try!” Éomer picked up one of the rocks and was about to throw it, but Faramir grabbed his arm. He fixed the positioning of his fingers and then let him go. Éomer threw it at the water, and it landed with a plunk. “It didn’t work!”
“Watch me do it and try to copy what I do.” Faramir first adjusted Éomer’s fingers and helped correct his posture. He then started bringing his arm back and forth. “You want to move your arm like this when you throw it.”
Éomer chewed on his bottom lip and frowned in concentration. He threw the stone and it hit the water with a splash.
“Why can’t I do it?”
“When you throw it, try to do it with just your arm and flick your wrist.” Faramir demonstrated by moving his wrist back and forth. “You don’t want to move your body too much. Try again.”
Éomer sniffled and wiped at his eyes. Not only were his eyes hurting from tiredness, but now they stung because he was about to cry. He picked up another stone and placed his fingers how Faramir had shown him. He brought his arm back and forth a few times and then did the same with his wrist. After sniffling and wiping at his nose with the back of his wrist, he brought his arm back one more time and threw the stone. It skipped once… twice… then disappeared under the water.
“I did it! It skipped!” Éomer shouted and jumped up and down.
“Good job! Maybe if you keep practicing, you’ll be able to throw it as good as your brother.”
“How many can he do?”
“Four,” Boromir answered boredly.
“Nuh uh! Prove it!”
Boromir heaved a sigh and got up, wiping the dirt from his trousers. He picked up one of the rocks and twisted it around in his fingers. After getting a good grip, he brought his arm back and then thrust it forward. The stone skipped once… twice… thrice… four times… then plunk! Boromir turned to his brother with an ‘I told you so’ look.
“Three has always been the most I could do,” said Faramir. “Boromir is way better at it than I am.”
“I wanna try, too!” Éomer said as he picked up more rocks.
“We’ll be out here for weeks,” Boromir groaned. “I’m not staying out here all day.”
“How about we have lunch?” Faramir suggested.
“Yeah! I’m starving!” Éomer said and dropped the rocks on the ground, his goal to best his older brother completely forgotten.
~*~
“Oh no! My rolls got smushed!” Éomer had put the rolls on top in his bag, but everything must have gotten jostled around on the way and they ended up on the bottom, squished beneath all of his toys.
“Here, this one doesn’t look too bad.” Faramir handed Éomer the roll that was rounder than the other. He then reached into his bag and held out part of his lunch. “I’ll trade you half of my sandwich for the other roll.”
“Deal!”
Éomer dropped his roll in his lap and held the half-sandwich in both hands before taking a large bite out of it. He hummed and his eyes rolled back. This was the best sandwich he’d ever had—but he would never tell his mom that. Faramir reached into his pack again and pulled out a container and turned the lid.
“I also brought some blueberries from our bushes that we can share.”
“You have blueberry bushes?” Éomer asked in awe.
“Sure do!”
“How come we don’t have blueberries?”
“Beats me,” Boromir answered with a shrug. “Bring it up to Mom and Dad.”
Éomer reached into the container and grabbed a handful of berries and tried to shove them all in his mouth. His mouth turned purple immediately.
“Don’t eat them all at once or you’ll get a stomachache,” said Faramir. Boromir snorted.
“You don’t need to worry about that. More of the berries ended up on his face than in his stomach.”
Éomer bowed his head and sniffled. He set the rest of his sandwich on the blanket and crossed is arms. Faramir watched him for a while and glanced at his friend, who popped a blueberry into his mouth and seemed unbothered. Faramir shook his head and held his napkin towards Éomer.
“Here, why don’t you go wash your face and hands in the river and use this to wipe them off?”
Éomer snatched the napkin from his hand and stomped over to the riverbank. He sat down with a huff and tossed the napkin down on the ground. He sat for several minutes with his arms crossed.
“The next time we plan something like this, we’re doing it at your house so he can’t hear us,” Boromir said.
“I had fun, and I didn’t mind having him around. I think he had fun with us, too.” Boromir hmphed and ate another blueberry. “You know your friends don’t have to be the same age as you, right? Our dads had an old wizard as a friend, and my dad is eight years younger than yours.”
“It’s not that he’s younger. Brothers can’t be friends.”
“What are you talking about? Our dads said the brothers we’re named after are friends. Who told you that?” Boromir didn’t answer because Éomer was coming back. His face was clean and parts of his hair were dripping with water. When he blinked his eyes, they barely opened more than small slits. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sleepy. And my eyes hurt.”
“Why do your eyes hurt?” Éomer swallowed and his bottom lip trembled.
“I didn’t sleep at all.”
“Why not?” Boromir asked.
“If I fell asleep then I wouldn’t hear you leave. And then I wouldn’t be able to have fun with you guys.”
Boromir’s mouth fell slightly open. He watched his little brother sway on his feet. How had he not noticed how tired he was? Right, because he hadn’t cared enough to really look.
“Maybe we should head back now,” Faramir whispered. Boromir nodded.
They quickly cleaned up their spot and tossed away the rolls and what they didn’t eat of their sandwiches. Faramir closed the lid on his container of berries and stuck it back in his bag.
“Here, you carry our bags and I’ll carry him,” Boromir said as handed his and Éomer’s packs to Faramir. He then turned his back to his brother and bent his knees. “Alright, climb on.”
Éomer clumsily scrambled onto Boromir’s back and wrapped his arms around his neck. Boromir adjusted his hold under Éomer’s legs. Just as he took a step forward, he heard a sniffle in his ear and a puff of air on the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry for ruining everything. And for being a pain.” Éomer’s small voice cracked. Boromir let out a sigh.
“It was still a good day. And yes, you may be a pain-in-the-neck little brother, but you’re my pain-in-the-neck little brother. And nobody else gets to say that but me.”
Éomer hummed and turned his head sideways. He rested his cheek on Boromir’s shoulder and fell asleep within seconds. Boromir fixed his grip one more time, and with a nod to Faramir, they began the long journey home.
