#elfwine chronicles

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Integrity posted, 7-27-24)

Eldarion and Elfwine make ill use of their play time  (Friendship, Integrity)

(Jul, 9 IV)

“Come on!” Eldarion urged, waving Elfwine to follow him down a long hallway.  The two scurried excitedly along, full of the boundless energy found in young boys.  With a guest to entertain, he was presently freed from lessons, and that made the day all the better.

They always enjoyed one another’s company, and looked forward to visits, so both had been eagerly anticipating Elfwine’s arrival at Minas Tirith for some time.  Given a choice, they would have been off on adventures the moment the Rohan royals arrived in the courtyard of the Citadel, but Eldarion’s parents had intervened.  He had a lesson they insisted he finish while Elfwine settled in, and then the appearance of relatives from Dol Amroth meant they had been required to suffer boring pleasantries, along with ‘visiting’ in the library.  What was the point of that?  They had their own views on visiting, and it didn’t involve sitting around a stuffy room sipping at refreshments and talking!  The best they had managed together was some whispered conversation about their activities for the next several days.

The moment breakfast concluded this morning, they had hastened to disappear before they could again be cornered.  Eldarion had lots of wonderful pursuits he intended to share with his friend from the North.  At the moment, he was leading the way out to a garden where he was allowed to play unattended.  Most of the time, if he wanted to stray very far, he had to have someone with him, but in this refuge he could entertain himself without interference from nurses or guards or anyone else. 

The majority of the garden was under his mother’s care, and she loved tending the flowers and plants there.  Eldarion rather suspected it reminded her of her home before, in Rivendell and Lothlorien.  She had told him many stories of her life among her people, and he thought it must be hard for her to leave the trees and rivers and sunshine to move into a city of stone.

In spite of that, Arwen realized that boys needed a patch of dirt to call their own, so she had set aside a section for Eldarion’s use.  He dug and built, but mostly got very dirty whenever he spent time there.  It was to that spot that he and his friend now went.  They whiled away the next two hours involved in an epic battle between their forces, forming battlements and fortresses in the dirt for their soldiers to occupy. 

continue reading on AO3:

               (https://archiveofourown.org/works/56775016/chapters/146897347)

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Reaffirmation posted, 6-1-24)

Eomer reassures Lothiriel.  (Family, Empathy, Consolation)

(Sep, 2 IV)

Eomer entered his darkened bedchamber, careful not to make noise that might disturb his wife.  Despite the silence and the look of the room, he did not think she was truly sleeping, but it took him a moment to determine how he wished to act.  At length, after gazing upon her unmoving form on the bed, he went to sit beside her.  Reaching out, he stroked her head, and it did not surprise him when her eyes opened at his touch.

Softly he observed, “Gamling mentioned that he thought he saw you weeping earlier.  Is something the matter, my love?”

“No, I cannot say that there is,” she murmured, though a hand quickly swiped at her eyes, belying her words.

“Why do I not believe that?” he asked with a smile, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple.  “Tell me your thoughts.”

She lay in silence, considering his request, then said firmly, “I love you, Eomer.” 

When nothing more was forthcoming, he prompted, “Is that supposed to astonish me?  I regret to tell you that it does not, though I would be alarmed if you could not state it so emphatically.”

Despite her mood, her mouth tweaked in a slight grin at his words, and he caught her arm to pull her up into his embrace.  “Come – what troubles you?”

continue reading on AO3:

               (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55781356/chapters/143143957)

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Opinion posted, 4-6-24)

Lothiriel overhears an unsettling remark  (Romance, Insecurity)

(Gondor - May, 2 IV)

“It truly is very sad, do you not think?  I mean she virtually leads the man around by his nose!  Who would have thought the great King of Rohan would be brought to his knees by a woman.  How humiliating!”  The second man chuckled, somewhat uneasily, at the remarks, and the two moved away.  They did not notice Lothiriel concealed in shadows nearby, nor glimpse the troubled look upon her face at their words.

Did all of Gondor think that?  And the Eorlingas as well?  That she had…had turned Eomer into a weak and submissive man, had somehow emasculated him?  The thought horrified her.  She had no wish to undermine who he was, certainly not in the eyes of others.  He was a fine and great king, and a renowned warrior.  Had she somehow tarnished his image by her behavior?

With a sigh of discouragement, she moved back into the busy flow of the Merethrond.  A headache was building that would not withstand all the noise and confusion.  Perhaps it was best that she withdraw for this night.  It took a moment to locate her husband in the room, and she worked her way toward him through the crowd.  He was obviously enjoying a lively conversation with the King and Queen of Gondor, and she paused nearby waiting for him to notice her.

As he did, a grin split his face, though it faded slightly at her expression that seemed a bit strained.  “My lord, I believe I shall call it a night, and check on our son before turning in.”

Instantly Eomer responded from his heart.  “So soon?  I had hoped for another dance with you!”

Lothiriel swallowed hard and then lowered her eyes.  Consciously choosing her words, she spoke clearly and distinctly, “As you wish, my lord.”

continue reading on AO3:

               (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54834652/chapters/139475368)

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Fate posted, 3-30-24)

Eomer and Lothiriel ponder how things might have been different  (Angst, Family)

[This story follows on to “Guilt” (https://archiveofourown.org/works/41467341/chapters/104622678.  It is best to read that first as this one assumes you are familiar with the circumstances there.]

(very early August, 3020 III)

“My lord!” Erkenbrand exclaimed, hurrying toward Eomer as he dismounted and moved to help his wife do the same.  “We were not expecting you.”

With Lothiriel safely on her feet, the king turned and smiled at his longtime friend.  “We were not anticipating a visit, but I went to the Fords of Isen, and since we were so close it seemed appropriate to come by and see how things are progressing.”  He turned to draw his wife forward with a wave of his arm, which he then placed around her shoulders.  “You remember Lothiriel, do you not?”

“But of course,” Erkenbrand smiled, taking her offered hand and kissing it.  “It is a pleasure to see you again.  You look well.”

Smiling, Lothiriel nodded.  “I am, and I am pleased to meet you again also.  But, please, do not go to a great deal of trouble for us.  Think of us only as friends dropping by.”

He grinned in response and answered, “I see you still fit well with the Eorlingas, my lady!  But, then, I could not imagine Eomer marrying a dull, formal woman!” 

The three of them chuckled as Eomer offered his arm to his wife and they followed Erkenbrand inside.  The conversation quickly turned to the continuing work on repairs to the fortress, and the state of affairs in the West-mark.  When Erkenbrand’s wife appeared, Lothiriel took the opportunity to slip away with her to the room they were to be given during their stay. 

continue reading on AO3:

               (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54834652/chapters/138992203)

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Envy posted, 1-27-24)

Eothain offers his view of his relationship with the royal pair (Envy, Romance)

<b>(September, 12 IV) </b>

In times of war, there are usually three types of men with regard to women. Some will seek casual pleasure with any woman who will welcome them into their bed, preferring to keep the encounter brief and largely anonymous. The second group will marry in haste, wanting something more than mere pleasure-seeking, but they do not generally have the time needed to truly get to know the woman before they make her their bride. They enjoy a few moments comfort and then they ride back to battle, not knowing if they will ever see her again.

The last group are those who want a family, but who do not wish to subject any woman to the vagaries of their life – not knowing when they will be able to come home for a visit, not knowing if they even will return or how wounded they might be if they do, not knowing if they are leaving the woman with child and destined to be a widow.

While I do not fit in either of the first two groups, I am not sure that I entirely fit in the latter either. War has been my occupation since I was old enough to join an eored. There were women who would provide bodily comfort, in the various towns where we sometimes stopped for a night, but casual liaisons had never appealed to me. And, in truth, my mind was too focused on the enemy and our dire circumstances to allow myself such distraction. Eomer likely had his own reasons for similarly forgoing such company, though we never discussed what they might be. As a result, long, lonely, cold nights were generally spent in companionable silence or infrequent conversation between the two of us.

We both missed our homes, and were sorry that we got to spend so little time there. We both longed to one day have a family and hearth to welcome us back from patrol. But life in the Third Age was too uncertain for us to have much expectation that we would ever see that day.

continue reading on AO3:

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/53115658/chapters/134997733)

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Nature posted, 12-23-23)

Various elements of nature affect the royal household. (Family, Romance)

Nature - (Jun, 22 IV)

As Eomer passed the open door of his eldest daughter's room, he automatically glanced in and was surprised to see numerous piles of clothing on the bed.    While Theodwyn was not the tidiest person, this seemed odd even for her.    At a loss to explain what he was seeing, he moved on, but then reached Theomund's room, where he found his wife making similar piles there.    Curious, he went in to see what this was all about.

“Your children grow like weeds!” Lothiriel exclaimed in exasperation, before he could even inquire as to what she was doing.    “I am barely able to keep them clothed!”

He bit back a smile as he watched her continue to pull things out and determine whether they needed discarding.    After observing for a moment, he asked, “Could not the clothes be passed on to another child?    Perhaps not Theomund's, but at least Theodwyn's?”

“Morwen!    Wear handed-down clothing?    Yes, that is so very likely to happen!” Lothiriel snorted sarcastically.    “Your youngest daughter would sooner eat dirt than do that!”

“Why are they always my children when they do something disagreeable, yet they are your children whenever they are admirable?” he queried with feigned annoyance.

“I should think that was obvious, dearest,” Lothiriel replied mildly, continuing to sort clothing.    “My children would never do anything disagreeable, whereas yours excel at it!”

continue reading on AO3:

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/52244710/chapters/132753493)

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Chronicles 090-097 posted, 8-9-23)

The life of the royal family of Rohan is viewed from an affectionate perspective.  (Fluff, Humor)

Partners  -  (May, 3020 III)

“The world is so empty if one thinks only of mountains, rivers and cities; but to know someone here and there who thinks and feels with us, and though distant, is close to us in spirit--this makes the earth for us an inhabited garden.”

--- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I suppose most of my kind are only meant to be functional.  We endure all manner of weather, from soaking rains, to chilling snow to baking sun.  Little thought is given to us or the hardships we suffer.  If we become infirm, then we are simply replaced with another that is new and fresh.

In my case, however, things were somewhat different.  I was not destined for just any location or just any owner – I was given to the queen of Rohan.  Probably because of that fact, I was a bit more ornate than the garden benches usually carved in the woodshop.  I was carefully crafted, sanded and painted to reflect who my august owner would be.  Indeed, I think a goodly portion of love went into my making, by a craftsman eager to honor his sovereign.

I do not know if my maker ever learned of how appreciated his efforts were, but I believe the queen has cherished me ever since she received me.  Servants have come to place a covering over me in the worst weather, likely at her direction.  Few other benches receive such doting treatment.

But even more important to me than the care I am given, is the importance I seem to have in the lives of the royal family members.  The queen herself made frequent use of me when first I came to rest in a place of honor in her garden.  I watched as she slowly expanded the existing garden, and under her guidance it began to flourish in a way not seen for many years in Rohan.

During the course of her work there, or at day’s end, the queen was fond of settling on me to survey her handiwork.  She also enjoyed coming to visit her garden, and me, even when she was not working.  Together we watched many suns set, and even quite a few of them rise.  Sometimes she came alone, and sometimes the king accompanied her.  Over the years, her family grew and the children joined their mother, pleased to sit and talk with her of life and love, problems and joys. 

Though they grew older, their fondness did not wane, and they still returned to visit with her, and usually in turn, to end up seated on me, deep in discussion.  I am just a garden bench and do not know much of man’s wisdom, but I truly believe the queen was an inspired wife and mother and friend.  All whom she counseled here seemed deeply affected and helped by her guidance. 

In my most egotistical moments, I like to think I played a small part in that.  Not that I did anything of great significance, but perhaps I helped provide a setting conducive to the exchange of thoughts and feelings.

Despite the care taken of me, I have had to be repaired and refurbished a number of times, but the queen is unwilling to part with me.  I know she could ask for a new bench and it would readily be given, but perhaps in my weathered wood she sees an echo of her memories.  Perhaps we are tied together in a way normally known only to the Elves, who I have heard commune with the very trees.

I do not know how long it will be before the queen is forced to lay me aside.  Eventually, it is likely I will be beyond repair.  When that happens, I can only hope she has me removed to an inobtrusive part of her garden, and lets me age back into the elements, here in the garden I have come to think of as my own.

THE END

also on AO3:

               (https://archiveofourown.org/works/49237417/chapters/125314105)

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, You Want What? posted, 12-7-22)

Eomer’s daughter makes a surprising request during the Yule celebrations.  (Fluff, seasonal)

 You Want What?  -  (Dec, 13 IV)

Eomer led his family into Meduseld and they gathered around the firepit to warm up after their day’s outing in the snow.  Suspecting the younger children needed a nap – Theomund had been dozing on the way home in the sleigh – Lothiriel asked, “Elfwine, would you get the children into dry clothes and tell them a story while they lay down for a while?”

Her eldest son grinned knowingly at her.  This was not the first time she had used this tactic to get his younger siblings to take a nap without complaint.  The idea of a story, while they laid on the bed, was sufficient distraction, and they were asleep before they even noticed.  The two were eagerly tugging at Elfwine’s hands, anxious to hear one of his tales, and he followed them off toward the nursery.

Lothiriel was not far behind, as she made her way to her bedchamber to change into dry clothes before overseeing the preparations for the evening’s feast.  The two days prior to Yule and the two days after Yule were primarily only spent with family and friends, but for the two days of Yule anyone in Edoras could come to Meduseld to celebrate, if they so desired.  Even so, the merriment was more family oriented than many feasts that were held, and drinking to excess was not a particularly accepted activity for these two days.

Eomer checked in with the housekeeper and let her know he would return shortly to help set up the tables in the main hall.  For these two days, everyone pitched in and the work was not left for the servants to do it all.  Families that came to the feast brought food with them to contribute and ease the cooking burden, and the men all turned up to do the manual labor tasks of setting up tables and benches, hauling extra firewood and the like.  Even the king was not exempt, which rather pleased him.

Over an hour later, Eomer, Gamling and Eothain sat talking quietly, enjoying one another’s company and a tankard of ale while they awaited the beginning of the festivities.  A thundering of feet attracted their attention, and the three men turned to see Eomer’s youngest children, Theodwyn and Theomund, running toward them.

“Guess who’s awake?” Eomer murmured to this companions, who grinned in amusement as the toddlers launched themselves at their father.

“Papa, Papa!” exclaimed Theodwyn, scrambling up into his lap and tugging Theomund up behind her. 

Eomer settled a child on each thigh, and then reached for his tankard of ale and took a swallow. Just as he did, Theodwyn blurted out loudly, “Papa, can we get an Oliphaunt?”

The tankard slammed down on the table as the contents of Eomer’s mouth spewed across the table, causing Gamling and Eothain to lurch sideways out of its path.  Coughing, Eomer gasped, “Can we get what?”

“An Oliphaunt! Elfwine told us all about them and how you killed two of them in the War.  Can we get one, please!  I would take care of it!  I promise!” She began bouncing on his leg in her enthusiasm and he fought to restrain her.

“Hold on, dearest! Oliphaunts are not pets.  They are huge and mean and deadly.  I killed two of them so that they did not kill many more of us.  Why would you want one?”

“We could tame it!” she pleaded.  “We could build a paddock outside the walls for it to live in and it could eat the grass on the plains and I could go for rides on it!  I bet I could ride all the way to Gondor in just one day!  Please, Papa!  It would be so wonderful!”

Theomund decided to lend support to his sister.  “The’wyn get Ol’fant?  Please, Papa?”

Eothain and Gamling sat smirking across the table, having wiped off the ale that had splattered them. Sarcastically, Gamling inquired, “Shall I draft a letter to the Haradrim, my lord?”

 continue reading on AO3:

              https://archiveofourown.org/works/42555441/chapters/109314846