The Family Line Part 6 – Departing

 

Part 6 – The Departing

It was midnight by the time Theomin arrived back at his farm. Not a soul was awake. He quickly went to the house and slept an unrestful sleep, dreaming of Easterlings, his coming journey, and most importantly his family. His thoughts, for some brief moments turned to the dark breast and its rider. What was it and why did it fill him with such an utter fear that he had to shamefully cower like he did? He woke several times during the night feeling fear until he turned his thoughts to his family. Guilt over abandoning the only family who cared for him was pounding his brain. Perhaps Eotheron was right. Why did it matter that he was adopted. He had a family who loved him. He was, under his own thoughts, starting to dissuade himself from leaving.

As dawn approached, in what seemed like a slow trudging night, Theomin woke and stepped outside the house. The morning sun had not yet peaked over the east yet but the rays of the sun were no less spreading their wings in the sky. Looking around, Theomin remembered every inch of his farm with fond memories playing, working, sleeping; he felt attached to the place even more so than he did just a few days before. He remembered as a young boy playing in the hay that was piled to the side for the horses; wandering down the hill toward the Anduin and swimming in the waters from the north; watching his father gathering the bull meat from the cows that wandered the plains; hiding in the ruins north playing with his mother and very young sister just a few years back; running in the summer and embracing his family in the winter. “How can I leave this place?”

He wandered to the spot he had sat a few days prior, wondering if he really wanted to journey to that Gondorian tower. He then heard a door open behind him, which broke him from the nostalgic trance he was in. He turned to see his father, Eölf heading out to fetch water out of the well, which was a typical morning routine for him. Theomin stood and intended to walk over to his father but his feet could not move. He watched as his father went back inside. Theomin looked down in regret at not approaching his father when he could. He had not spoken to his father since his mother broke the news, and his heart. He walked to the stables, holding his horse’s head and patting it. He put the horse through a lot the past couple of days, going here and there all over the Wold. He patted it and placed his head on the horse and that was when he heard footsteps in the dry Wold grass. He turned and saw his father standing just a few yards away from him.

Theomin’s father walked up to him, emotionless in his face. He was carrying a few things in his arms before he placed them down next to the stables and looked back at Theomin, “I suppose you are leaving us.” Theomin could not read his face. He could not tell if he was saddened or disappointed. Theomin looked down, not wanting to meet his father’s eyes, fearing disappointment. With a tinge of sadness in his voice he continued, “I suppose it is all for the best. Your mother and I knew if we told you, you would leave us.” He walked up to Theomin. “We kept this from you because we wanted to keep you.” Theomin wanted to speak but could not. “It was selfish I guess but sometimes love can be a little selfish.”

All of this was new for Theomin. He never knew his father to speak like he did just then. He was usually a no nonsense man who avoided any emotional conversation. He was straightforward and always to the point and no matter what; his decision was always right and final. That day, though, Theomin saw a part of his father he never knew before yet was somehow refreshing to witness. He did not know who his real parents were, but it was turning out that he did not really know the father he lived with either. “Am I selfish, papa?” was all Theomin could muster to say.

Eölf looked down and breathed in and let out a long exhale. “Not in all the years I have known you. When it comes to this, you are not being self-serving. You are self-discovering and that is not selfish in any way.” He bent down to pick up what he placed on the ground, “I want you to take these.” He handed Theomin a tunic and pants. “I know they may not be much to look at, but they will keep you warm on cold nights.” He then walked over to his shed. Theomin could hear him moving things around and then the noises stopped. He then came out bearing a staff. It was quite a long staff made of either brass, bronze, or gold about five feet long adorned with carvings on the shaft just below the tip of which was rounded, bearing a strange vibrating glowing ruby type of stone of which he had never seen the like. “I was not going to give you this until your birthday this coming fall. With all your studies, I know you can put it to good use. Your book you have kept in your box has long been a guide for you on how to use this staff. You have been studying that thing for years now.”

Theomin took the tunic and pants in one arm and staff in his other hand. The slow vibration of the staff tingled a little but he then felt used to it. He looked at his father with tears welling up in his eyes. He could hardly speak but managed to say with a shaky voice, “Thanks, dad.” And hugged him tight as if he was not going to see him again.

“Now go find your mother before I insist you stay.” His father said as he walked away pretending to cough but really wiping away tears.

Instead of going to the house, he first headed to the windmill where there was a place to change. He put on the clothes he was given by his father. The dark brown tunic was a loose fitting and quite warm. The cloth was thick with wool lining the inside. The pants were slightly more fitting but needed a belt to keep up. They were more for riding than anything. It was perfect as he would be doing quite a bit of riding on his way to the tower. The new tunic and pants both felt fine but he preferred his regular clothes. Never-the-less, they were necessary for his journey south as the days and nights were becoming cooler and the mornings were becoming crisper. Before putting his clothes away he reached into his pocket. He pulled out the necklace he found from the Easterling camp and looked upon it. It was a much more beautiful necklace than he remembered. Theomin pictured the girl who was wearing the necklace. The haunted look on her face was burned into his memory. What fate did she endure at the hands of the Easterlings? What horrors did she witness on her last breaths? Sadly he then placed it in the pocket of his new pants with the intention to bring it to the refugees of Langhold.

Theomin walked to the house where his mother was. She was beating eggs with a look of longing when he walked in. She took one look at him before she dropped the spoon she was using and hugged Theomin. “I thought you had gone, Theomin.” She grabbed him by shoulders. “I am so glad you are back!” She took one look at Theomin’s face. Her shoulders dropped with knowing sadness, “But you intend on leaving again.”

“I will come back, mom.” Theomin reassured her.

She cocked her head to the side and with a sad smile answered, “I know.” She placed her hand on his cheek. “I know. And I know I am not your real mother, but can’t a mother of an adopted boy still miss him?”

He took her in his arms, “Yes, mom, you can. I am sorry for what I said before I left.”

“It is okay.” She straightened herself and breathed in a deep breath of air. “You do what you have to do and come back to us, okay?” Theomin smiled turned and started out the door. She then stole another hug from him. “Missing you will be unbearable. Please, come back safe.”

He took her in his arms. “I will mom.”

She left his embrace to search for things in the house, “And please, stay away from Wildermore. Something queer is happening there. And take this water bladder. And Dunland. Never go there. Those people are wild animals. And take these provisions and your book. Do not forget that. And if your path leads to Mordor…”

“Mom, do not fear.” Theomin reassured her. “If my path leads to Mordor, I will come home.” He pointed to the tunic and pants his father gave to him, “Besides, I have these wonderful garbs.” He said with a smile. They both laughed an uncomfortable nervous laugh. He then gave his mother a final kiss on the forehead. “I love you,” he smiled, “Mom.”

Theomin turned and left. Eothea collapsed in the nearest chair and wept.

He headed toward the horse stables when his father flagged him down to come to him. “Theomin, I want you to take Bragga.”

“I was set on taking Eol.” He went to the horse he had been riding for the past few days. “Besides, Eol and I have been through quite a bit, have we not?” He hugged Eol.

Eölf patted Bragga on the side, “Eol may be a good horse but Eol is old. Bragga is younger, stronger, and can stand up in a stampede of bulls. Trust me, she has been tested.” Theomin looked down with disappointment. He knew his father was right. He used to see his father take out Eol weekly to chase down bulls. His father stopped as the horse’s age started to get in the way of his tasks. Instead Eol was given to Theomin. Bragga was his father’s new horse. She was indeed faster and a much stronger horse than Eol ever was.

“How will you hunt the bulls then?” Theomin was concerned.

Eölf patted Theomin on the shoulder. “We will manage. For local things Eol is a good horse. He still has years left in him. You need a strong horse.” He handed Theomin a saddle and insisted, “Take Bragga.”

Theomin took the saddle. He walked over to the young horse, feeling almost like he was cheating on his own horse. He looked longingly at Eol. The horse was eating grass, seemingly oblivious to Theomin leaving him behind. Theomin put down the saddle and walked over to Eol. He patted the horse. “I will return.” He whispered to the horse and kissed it and left to place the saddle on Bragga.

He then secured saddle bags on the rear of Bragga. He packed in all he needed for his journey to the tower. He put in his water bladder and the rations his mother gave to him and a map of Rohan as well as a map whole of Middle Earth. He remembered studying the maps since he was a child. He never imagined he would travel outside of the Wold but this was his one chance to do so. Finally, he carefully placed the letters from the Langhold strongbox into the saddle bag, careful not to damage them. He wondered what was in the letters. Who were they for? Who were they from?

After quickly securing the saddle to Bragga he walked the horse by the reigns and was ready to leave. As Theomin started to mount up he heard tiny footsteps running toward him. He stopped at the well and turned around “Don’t go!” his little sister insisted running to his side and hugging him.

He hugged her back tightly and sat her down next to the well and knelt down. “I will return and when I do, I will have so many stories to tell you. I promise.”

A tear was rolling down her face, “Do you swear?” She asked, sniffling.

“I swear.” He gave her one last hug good-bye. “Take care of mom and dad and your brothers while I’m away. You’re the oldest one now. I trust you will do a fine job.”

She smiled, taking the job with a sniffle and pride, “I will. I swear it.” Another tear rolled down her cheek. Theomin caught it with his finger.

He then turned and left. He mounted his horse, rode up the nearest hill and looked back. He saw his father watch him and then went back to his work brushing the horses. His sister went to her brothers. His mother was still inside the house. He started to ride off but heard a yell from the house. Eothea ran up the hill in tears to give Theomin one last hug good-bye. “I love you, Theomin and it is not any less than for you.” She said with tears.

“I know mom, I know.” He jumped off his horse and hugged her as tight as he could. “I love you too, no less than I would love my real mother.” He let her go and mounted his horse again. He then rode off south, keeping himself from looking back.