snacky
in
snackbites
LOTR Fic: Old Horses
Title: Old Horses
Authors: Snacky and Rosencrantz
Disclaimer: All of it belongs to Tolkien, not us.
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Warnings: character death
Summary: A Lord of the Rings AU, in which Theoden is not killed in battle, but lives on for many good years, and in which Eowyn comes home to visit him, towards the end of those years.
Notes: Written for the B2ME Challenge: Different cultures deal with their elders in very different ways. Write a story, poem or create an artwork where a society's view of old age is shown.
Archived on AO3.
It wasn't often Eowyn went home.
She was just so busy in Ithilien. A healer never had time to rest, but Eomer sounded insistent in his letter that it was in her best interest to visit sooner than later. And in any case, Uncle's birthday was this month, so there was a perfect excuse to go back to Rohan.
She'd made a package of little objects her son had made for his great uncle since the last time they'd seen each other. He wasn't able to come with her this time, but she would make sure he would still be part of the visit.
She set off on the journey in the early morning. Faramir insisted she take a guard with her and Eowyn had finally agreed, but she rode her own horse instead of in the coach they offered her, and carried her own sword, along with her packs full of gifts, and her bag with her healing tools.
Seeing the first glimpse of Rohan over the last hill felt like a swim in cool water on a hot day. She was always surprised by how much she missed it, each time she saw it again. She loved her home in Ithilien and her life with Faramir; she loved the work she did as a healer, but every time she returned, she was reminded that she was a daughter of Kings, a shieldmaiden of Rohan, and that a part of her heart would always live in this land. And it was nice to finally get a good beer.
As she rode to Edoras, she thought of her uncle. This would be his eightieth birthday. She knew he was busy with the day-to-day duties of being king, but she also knew from his and Eomer's letters that Eomer had taken over quite a bit from him, and that Theoden was able to spend time with his beloved horses once more.
Although Eomer would comment wryly, people still made the "don't teach them to roll over!" jokes around Theoden. Eowyn grinned as she remembered that. If she knew her uncle, he'd teach them that on purpose.
The last time she'd been in Rohan, her uncle had just started backing away from his life as a rider to focus more on training the horses now that he was getting older. He'd complained to her one night that the other trainers were a "bunch of doddering old fools" and told her of his already bitter rivalry with one over horse blankets. The trainers of Rohan were uniformly old as were the riding teachers, experience being golden. Theoden had taken to it well, Eomer had said, hobbling around on his crutch (for Snowmane, though spoken of only with fondness by Theoden, had done terrible damage during that last battle) and bonding with the animals.
There was no shame in becoming elderly in Rohan. There was always simple work waiting to keep them from having idle hands, and the young knew to care for and honor those who'd cared for them when they were even younger.
Eomer wrote in his latest letter that Theoden didn't go down to the stables much anymore. It was too hard now to go far with the crutch, and he wouldn't accept using a chair.
The letters were vague, but details like that kept appearing. Theoden's letters to Eowyn were different, never dwelling on anything sad, but focusing more and more on the little triumphs and tragedies of the other elders he'd grown to know as he stepped back from his duties as king, as well as an ongoing irritation with what the young folk of Rohan were up to.
When Eowyn finally arrived in Rohan, Eomer, his wife, and son Elfwine were there to greet her. Theoden was nowhere to be seen. After a joyful reunion with her brother and his family and a quick visit to the Hall with warm greetings from old friends, she went in search of her uncle.
Theoden was in his room, a large book in his lap, and glasses she'd never seen him wear before on his nose. He must have had them brought in from Dol Amroth. Eowyn was shocked at how old he looked but she greeted him happily, with a huge hug. "Hello, Uncle!"
He hugged her back. She tried not to think about how his arms seemed to have lost the strength she remembered from her childhood. Before she'd gone up, Eomer had taken her aside and told her, "I believe what Wormtongue did to our uncle has stolen years from us." He'd added something uncouth about Grima Wormtongue that wasn't worth remembering. Seeing Theoden like this, Eowyn understood what Eomer had been trying to say. While his appearance was nowhere near as bad as what Saruman and Wormtongue had done, Eowyn remembered the last time she saw her uncle looking this old, this tired. How close to death he had seemed in those terrible days. And she realized it was happening all over again, and this time a wizard couldn't save them.
Theoden would not want to be saved like that again, she realized, as she sat down next to him and they began to talk. He told her all about the horses he was working with and how he still hadn't decided on one for her son.
"I'm glad you're here now, Eowyn," he said, squeezing her hand. "I need to ask you some questions about young Elboron, so I can pick out the perfect horse for him."
He had many questions, some odd, some basic. But the one that made her laugh the most was when he squinted at her suspiciously and said in his most sternly avuncular tone, "You have been giving him lessons, yes?"
She assured him that she had, of course! The topics began to meander as they continued talking. Theoden mentioned Merry had come to visit, that Snowmane's line was still one of the finest in Rohan, that he was still bitter that Gandalf had gone off with Shadowfax before he could be bred to their mares. As they talked, she realized he was giving her not just the inventory of his days, but of his entire life, recounting stories from when he was young, when all his sisters were alive and then more and even more, laughing as he told her of the naughty tricks she, Eomer and Theodred used to get up to. She committed it all to memory. This was what her uncle was leaving her, his memories.
He asked her to walk down to the stables with him and she did, slowing her pace to match his. They paused for him to catch his breath and he told her how Elfwine had sneaked off overnight with some of the other boys. "Poor Theodwyn," Theoden chuckled. "You should have seen her face when Eomer dragged Elfwine home!"
"Lothiriel, Uncle," Eowyn said softly. "Eomer's wife is Lothiriel."
He made a dismissive noise, but changed the subject quickly. When they reached the stables, all the grooms and guards there greeted him warmly and respectfully. Several asked his advice on horsecare, if his majesty wouldn't mind giving them his time. The young children who worked in the stables crowded around Theoden gleefully, so glad to see him, babbling on about the newest additions to the stable and that he needed to see them right away!
Partway through playing with one of the new foals, Eowyn noticed that her uncle had fallen asleep where he'd sat to watch her and the children interact. She watched him carefully for a bit, assuring herself that he was just sleeping. All through that afternoon, she kept glancing over at him, smiling whenever she caught his eye.
Eowyn spent almost her entire visit at her uncle's side, listening to his stories, helping him when he needed assistance (but only when he asked, of course), and answering all his questions about her son and her life in Gondor. The day she left, he stood out on the landing with Eomer and Elfwine, waving as she rode away. She kept turning to look at him as she rode off, one last glimpse - she knew it would have to last her the rest of her life.
Not long after she returned home she received a letter from her uncle, telling her that he had finally, finally, picked out the perfect horse for her son and that they must return together soon, so he could try out the new pony. Two days later, another letter arrived from Eomer King, asking her to return to set their uncle to rest with all their forefathers. So Eowyn returned one last time, with her husband and son accompanying her, to sing her final farewell to her uncle.
Authors: Snacky and Rosencrantz
Disclaimer: All of it belongs to Tolkien, not us.
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Warnings: character death
Summary: A Lord of the Rings AU, in which Theoden is not killed in battle, but lives on for many good years, and in which Eowyn comes home to visit him, towards the end of those years.
Notes: Written for the B2ME Challenge: Different cultures deal with their elders in very different ways. Write a story, poem or create an artwork where a society's view of old age is shown.
Archived on AO3.
It wasn't often Eowyn went home.
She was just so busy in Ithilien. A healer never had time to rest, but Eomer sounded insistent in his letter that it was in her best interest to visit sooner than later. And in any case, Uncle's birthday was this month, so there was a perfect excuse to go back to Rohan.
She'd made a package of little objects her son had made for his great uncle since the last time they'd seen each other. He wasn't able to come with her this time, but she would make sure he would still be part of the visit.
She set off on the journey in the early morning. Faramir insisted she take a guard with her and Eowyn had finally agreed, but she rode her own horse instead of in the coach they offered her, and carried her own sword, along with her packs full of gifts, and her bag with her healing tools.
Seeing the first glimpse of Rohan over the last hill felt like a swim in cool water on a hot day. She was always surprised by how much she missed it, each time she saw it again. She loved her home in Ithilien and her life with Faramir; she loved the work she did as a healer, but every time she returned, she was reminded that she was a daughter of Kings, a shieldmaiden of Rohan, and that a part of her heart would always live in this land. And it was nice to finally get a good beer.
As she rode to Edoras, she thought of her uncle. This would be his eightieth birthday. She knew he was busy with the day-to-day duties of being king, but she also knew from his and Eomer's letters that Eomer had taken over quite a bit from him, and that Theoden was able to spend time with his beloved horses once more.
Although Eomer would comment wryly, people still made the "don't teach them to roll over!" jokes around Theoden. Eowyn grinned as she remembered that. If she knew her uncle, he'd teach them that on purpose.
The last time she'd been in Rohan, her uncle had just started backing away from his life as a rider to focus more on training the horses now that he was getting older. He'd complained to her one night that the other trainers were a "bunch of doddering old fools" and told her of his already bitter rivalry with one over horse blankets. The trainers of Rohan were uniformly old as were the riding teachers, experience being golden. Theoden had taken to it well, Eomer had said, hobbling around on his crutch (for Snowmane, though spoken of only with fondness by Theoden, had done terrible damage during that last battle) and bonding with the animals.
There was no shame in becoming elderly in Rohan. There was always simple work waiting to keep them from having idle hands, and the young knew to care for and honor those who'd cared for them when they were even younger.
Eomer wrote in his latest letter that Theoden didn't go down to the stables much anymore. It was too hard now to go far with the crutch, and he wouldn't accept using a chair.
The letters were vague, but details like that kept appearing. Theoden's letters to Eowyn were different, never dwelling on anything sad, but focusing more and more on the little triumphs and tragedies of the other elders he'd grown to know as he stepped back from his duties as king, as well as an ongoing irritation with what the young folk of Rohan were up to.
When Eowyn finally arrived in Rohan, Eomer, his wife, and son Elfwine were there to greet her. Theoden was nowhere to be seen. After a joyful reunion with her brother and his family and a quick visit to the Hall with warm greetings from old friends, she went in search of her uncle.
Theoden was in his room, a large book in his lap, and glasses she'd never seen him wear before on his nose. He must have had them brought in from Dol Amroth. Eowyn was shocked at how old he looked but she greeted him happily, with a huge hug. "Hello, Uncle!"
He hugged her back. She tried not to think about how his arms seemed to have lost the strength she remembered from her childhood. Before she'd gone up, Eomer had taken her aside and told her, "I believe what Wormtongue did to our uncle has stolen years from us." He'd added something uncouth about Grima Wormtongue that wasn't worth remembering. Seeing Theoden like this, Eowyn understood what Eomer had been trying to say. While his appearance was nowhere near as bad as what Saruman and Wormtongue had done, Eowyn remembered the last time she saw her uncle looking this old, this tired. How close to death he had seemed in those terrible days. And she realized it was happening all over again, and this time a wizard couldn't save them.
Theoden would not want to be saved like that again, she realized, as she sat down next to him and they began to talk. He told her all about the horses he was working with and how he still hadn't decided on one for her son.
"I'm glad you're here now, Eowyn," he said, squeezing her hand. "I need to ask you some questions about young Elboron, so I can pick out the perfect horse for him."
He had many questions, some odd, some basic. But the one that made her laugh the most was when he squinted at her suspiciously and said in his most sternly avuncular tone, "You have been giving him lessons, yes?"
She assured him that she had, of course! The topics began to meander as they continued talking. Theoden mentioned Merry had come to visit, that Snowmane's line was still one of the finest in Rohan, that he was still bitter that Gandalf had gone off with Shadowfax before he could be bred to their mares. As they talked, she realized he was giving her not just the inventory of his days, but of his entire life, recounting stories from when he was young, when all his sisters were alive and then more and even more, laughing as he told her of the naughty tricks she, Eomer and Theodred used to get up to. She committed it all to memory. This was what her uncle was leaving her, his memories.
He asked her to walk down to the stables with him and she did, slowing her pace to match his. They paused for him to catch his breath and he told her how Elfwine had sneaked off overnight with some of the other boys. "Poor Theodwyn," Theoden chuckled. "You should have seen her face when Eomer dragged Elfwine home!"
"Lothiriel, Uncle," Eowyn said softly. "Eomer's wife is Lothiriel."
He made a dismissive noise, but changed the subject quickly. When they reached the stables, all the grooms and guards there greeted him warmly and respectfully. Several asked his advice on horsecare, if his majesty wouldn't mind giving them his time. The young children who worked in the stables crowded around Theoden gleefully, so glad to see him, babbling on about the newest additions to the stable and that he needed to see them right away!
Partway through playing with one of the new foals, Eowyn noticed that her uncle had fallen asleep where he'd sat to watch her and the children interact. She watched him carefully for a bit, assuring herself that he was just sleeping. All through that afternoon, she kept glancing over at him, smiling whenever she caught his eye.
Eowyn spent almost her entire visit at her uncle's side, listening to his stories, helping him when he needed assistance (but only when he asked, of course), and answering all his questions about her son and her life in Gondor. The day she left, he stood out on the landing with Eomer and Elfwine, waving as she rode away. She kept turning to look at him as she rode off, one last glimpse - she knew it would have to last her the rest of her life.
Not long after she returned home she received a letter from her uncle, telling her that he had finally, finally, picked out the perfect horse for her son and that they must return together soon, so he could try out the new pony. Two days later, another letter arrived from Eomer King, asking her to return to set their uncle to rest with all their forefathers. So Eowyn returned one last time, with her husband and son accompanying her, to sing her final farewell to her uncle.