Category: The Family Line

Part 151 – Theomin’s Book

A day passed on the farm in the Wold. The day was a warm and muggy day; a typical kind weather Theomin remembered for the Wold. Tall clouds drifted in the skies as they headed eastward toward the Brown Lands. The smell of pine was in the air as the local pine tree, which was still standing between the two houses of their farm, gave out its beautiful smell.

As Theomin woke in his own bed, he remembered the last morning he woke from his bed so long ago. No thought of any other part of Middle Earth had entered his mind as he was an innocent boy back then. As he was laying there along in his bed and in his thoughts, he felt that he had seen more than any other person in their family, he had done more than any other person in his family, and had befriended more people from other cultures than anyone else in his family.

An almost beautiful feeling that was to him, knowing that he had done so much and grown so much more than any of his family would ever grow. But with all that growth and all that he had done, he would have rather given it all up just to be there with his family when the trouble started and the brigands and the Easterlings and the orcs came. Or would he have been removed from his home anyway and taken to the east and fought there with his father in Gondor?

His father was off in another part of Middle Earth. The last he heard the army of Rohan fought in Gondor and then headed to Mordor. What befell the army of the West in Mordor? Theomin knew not and neither did his family know the fate of the patriarch of the family. Did his father die in the battles that took place in the east or did he still live. No word was brought to the Wold of who had died and who had lived in that war. Other families in other parts of Rohan knew of their fallen kin from both Helm’s Deep and the war at Minus Tirith. But such word had not spread yet to the Wold. A certain calm that brought Theomin feeling that not a member of the Wold had perished in the war. But such feelings of calm did not last as he knew the awful state of the Wold when he returned. Perhaps they had not heard of such a fate because the messenger had not lived to tell of the fate of their families.

Perhaps time will only sneak by and if there was no word from Eolf, that would be the sign that yes indeed, he had fallen. Only then would there be some solace. But then knowing his death took place, Theomin only hoped that he had not suffered. It was a hopefully swift death. But thinking of his father’s death was a terrible thought. He was only trying to stay positive about his father. He wanted to get out of bed and hopefully find Eotheron’s family.

He stood up and looked at all the items he had from Eriador. His book of lore that he used so often. The cloak, black with a cloth that was so fine it seemed to be made from the elves. His blanket that he brought with him from Rohan. The blanket that held the single seven-sided star on it. Lastly, his map that he pulled out last that had the places on Eriador marked. He remembered obsessing over that map wondering what it meant. He could not believe what would come from that map that he had from the Gondrian Tower. He thought back at all those places and began to suddenly miss them, as if he felt he would never see them again. It became overwhelming for a bit but he knew he had to compose himself and join his mother.

His mother was already working on breakfast he came to her. She gave him a kiss on the cheek as Eleswith also came into the house. She sat down at the table and started, “Those boys of yours are viscous, perky little gents aren’t they? They like to hide behind the barn and snicker at me as I am walking over here. Why do they do such things?”

“They have always been like that,” Theomin said. “They are curious about you but have not the knowhow to speak with you. They are interested in you. They have never seen a girl from Dale before.”

“Nor have I,” Theomin’s mother chimed in. “Your people must be a very beautiful people.”

“That is very kind of you to say,” Eleswith blushed. “I think those here in Rohan are particularly good looking, though the blonde hair is a bit striking at first. I am used to the darker colored hair, like up in Breeland. Their hair is just as dark, if not darker, than mine. But I have noticed all around the places that we have gone to, no skin is as dark as mine. Curious that is.”

“It is curious,” Eothea said, “but not completely strange. I think it gives you a look of exoticness that others here in Rohan do not have.”

“Well I appreciate that,” Eleswith said with a smile. “Have we anything to do today? Are we going to look for Eotheron’s family again today?”

Theomin sighed. “I wish we could. I know not what happened to that poor family’s farm, but not is left. I remember seeing no sign of them in Floodwend when we were there. Harwick may be a decent place to check today.”

“That place is a lost cause,” Eothea said. “Such a shame that it was sacked by those filthy Easterlings. I only hope that Reeve Harding’s son can really rebuild that town at least close to its former glory.”

“I believe it will,” Theomin said. “I believe it will be rebuilt to its former glory.”

The rest of the morning was spent eating and preparing for the journey to Hardwick. They quickly packed a few things and left the farm. Theomin took Aches, the little Lynx that Eothea has taken to naming “Rascal,” for all the messes it has caused and the many time it spooked the horses. The boys and Ealyn have enjoyed his company though. But without Theomin’s supervision, little Aches would cause a lot of mischief.

It was close to noon when they reached the gate of Harwick. It was a burned mess inside and out. Though a few men and women were aiding in the repair of the city. It was made easier from the lack of bandits coming and stealing their tools and goods. Little did they know it was with the thanks of Theomin’s doing. Through the repair effort, new wood was being cut as the old burned wood of the palisades were knocked down. The stables were torn down and the tents of the rohirrim were pulled off their poles. Flags were replaced, and old burned fences were pulled off their stakes and replaced with newer slats of wood. Slowly, the town was being repaired, but it still had a long way to go. Guards were few and those that were there were old, too many years to they lived, but willing they were to risk their lives for the sake of the city they loved.

As Theomin and Eleswith continued through the streets of the once proud city, not a sign of his friend’s family was there. They traveled up and down the city streets, checked in houses, looked at all the refugees of other communities. Not one person did Theomin see from Eotheron’s family. Even the refugees from Langhold were no longer there. Fear crept into the heart of Theomin as he was fearful that even those who survived the sack of Langhold did not survive the sacking of Harwick. He leaned his back on a nearby rock and looked at all the devastation.

“What is it?” Eleswith asked.

“All of those families of Langhold who survived their town being burned could not make it out of here with their lives,” he sadly said. “I cannot even find the lady whose husband died in Langhold nor could I find the one elderly woman who told me about the lady who took me from the Gondorian tower in the Norcrofts. They are gone, all of them. I weep for them and for what they must have seen. Terrible it must have been.”

“Theomin?” a voice came from nearby the pond. A girl, maybe a teenager, was standing and looking at Theomin as she waved her hand for him to see. It was Eotheron’s sister who always had such disdain for her brother daring ways. But that day, she seemed genuinely glad to see Theomin. “Where have you been? Where has Eotheron been? We have all been so worried. Did he go to the war?”

Theomin prepared for this moment for a very long time. He knew exactly what he was going to tell Eotheron’s family. He would tell them of his bravery and his willingness accompany him on his quests. But that moment, all of that was dropped and he was speechless. He looked at Eotheron’s sister and could not say anything. He just looked at her with fear mixed with sadness until he finally said to her, “Perhaps it would be wise to talk to you and your family about it.”

“Why?” the girl asked as she placed her hand over her mouth. “Is it bad?” Theomin just nodded and the sister said, “Okay, this way.” On the way to the house, Theomin could hear the girl talking with herself, almost panting as she seemed to be crying. They reached the house, nearby the pond. It was modest, but not enough to fit the entire family for long. “Father has gone off to the war, so it has only been my brothers, mom and I.”

They entered the small house. It was tight but livable. They were all sitting at the table. The boys looked as though they had not had a bath in a very long time and the mother’s hair was unkempt and her dress was in tatters. What Theomin and Eleswith saw of the family was that they were barely surviving in the modest little home.

“Theomin,” Eotheron’s mother came to give Theomin a hug. She then looked around, “but where is Eotheron? Where is my son?” Theomin looked down and upon doing so Eotheron’s mother collapsed on the nearby chair. Her mouth was agape and she looked off seemingly to nowhere. After a few moments, when she was able to piece a few words together through her despair, “How did it happen?”

Theomin told his mother of the man who they trusted who killed Eotheron. He told of Eotheron’s bravery of how he went to save that man, Teryndir, despite the battle that was going on around them. He told how Eotheron saved him and his friends. He told of Theomin’s delight when he saw Eotheron in the North Downs and how he became an integral part of their kinship. “He was a good man. Every day I have missed him.”

Eotheron’s mother whispered to Theomin as she seemed still in a state of shock, “I suppose it was meant to be. He has always been an adventurous boy. And that he had been until the end. We were always meant to lose him. I am so glad to have had him for the many years I had him. I just hoped we would not be so soon.”

“He changed,” Theomin said. “He was not as adventurous at the end of his life. I remembered him as a person who acted first and faced the consequences later. He was not like that in the end. He was a more calculating and responsible man. I will always miss him as he was not only my friend, but he was my brother.”

Eotheron’s brothers came to his mother as did his sister. They all embraced as their tears began to run and their mother tried to comfort them. “It is okay, babies. Mama’s going to be strong for you. Mama’s going to be strong.” She looked up at Theomin and just mouthed without saying, “Thank you.”

The two left outside the door. The pond was beautiful and they looked at it for a long time, gazing at its simplicity as two swans flew in and landed in the pond as they floated effortlessly. It was a beautiful thing amongst such devastation all around it. Children came running around the pond, happily playing with no fear or anxiety. It was strange how such a simple thing like a swans in a small pond in the middle of the town could give them such a warm feeling. Eleswith then had to go and sit as she suddenly looked exhausted.

“What is it?” Theomin asked.

“I am finding it tougher to journey these days,” Eleswith said as she rubbed her stomach.

“Is it the baby?” Theomin asked.

“I feel it is,” she said. “I  have wanted to stay here for a while but now I know I cannot.” She looked at Theomin and continued, “I want my baby to be born in Dale. I will not be able to journey with my child if it is already born before I leave. It will be too much of a burden.”

“Are you sure with your exhaustion it is not a already burden?” Theomin asked.

“No,” she said as she laughed. “It just makes things a little more difficult, but nowhere near a burden.” Eleswith looked down with a sigh, “I wanted to stay at least until something was sent here, but now I know it will not happen and I will be forced to leave before it arrives.”

“What is coming here?” Theomin asked curiously.

“I care not to tell you yet,” she said with a knowing laugh. “I wish I could see your face when you look upon it. It would bring me such joy. But alas, I am forced not to tell you. I gave a promised not to.”

Theomin looked at Eleswith with curiosity. But he did not want to discuss that as he knew she was already exhausted and wanted not to bring her any more stress than she already had. He knew he would just have to wait. “Then when would you be leaving us?”

“I feel I may have another few weeks here in the Wold,” she said. “I will not be able to stay after that time.”

“I am sorry that you will not stay here, at least until we find the families of Langhold,” Theomin said sadly.

Eleswith stood and walked away from Theomin. It was the first time he had noticed the gate of her walk was different. Her stomach had changed too. Not the sunken in and thin stomach she once had. It was protruding out just the slightest bit. She removed Helesdir’s hat and as she did so, her hair fell and for a moment, it seemed as though it was longer than he remembered. She looked at Helesdir’s hat and slightly caressed it and held it to her face as she rubbed it against her cheek. She then rubbed her stomach as she looked out on the city of Harwick.

“I have been thinking,” Eleswith said. “What lesson could I have learned from this whole time away from Dale; a lesson to tell my child someday when we are at home. Something that my little one could take to heart and I would be proud of. What would I be able to tell him of my adventures in Eriador that I could impart to him as a good message. I have been thinking of all the evil in this world. All the terrible things that happened to us in Eriador and all the evil men that seemed to be a never-ending stream. But then I thought, there was an end. Not all men are evil. Not all people do evil things because they have not evil in their hearts. I look at these people here rebuilding this town and rebuilding this land and their lives. I see it just the same as in Annuminas. There are always more men that do good than there are who are evil at heart. I look over the good common folk of this city and I am reminded that there are always more kind-hearted folk than there are evil men in this world. Such a thing to realize I think is a beautiful feeling and it has suddenly filled me with warmth. As if I am suddenly wrapped in a warm blanket of comfort. I cannot describe that feeling to you, but can you not see the hope that brings me?” Theomin only nodded in agreement. “And what of you? Have you anything that you can tell your family that you learned while in Eriador?”

Theomin thought for a moment. He tried to take in what Eleswith said and use that but alas, he could not think of any advice close to hers. He instead went with what he had witnessed from Eleswith since the day they met. “I have seen evil men do evil things. I have also seen good men do evil things. Not all people who do evil things are purely evil at heart. Sure, they may come to do evil in their lives, but I feel they are forced to do so and may not want to commit such acts of evil. People change, sometimes because of being forced to change, but sometimes out of their own hearts. A good person could sometimes do evil deeds, which is what I have seen from you: a good person who had committed evil acts can still be a good person. I see that with you but I am also trying to learn that myself. I hope that all who love me can see that I am still a good person. I know I have seen that in you too. I know who killed Bree’s mayor’s son. I know you did it but it was out of your hands. You were forced to do it but can you not see that out of such a horrible deed, some good came from it. You met some wonderful people. Magla, brave and passionate with a strong heart and a strong mind. Sergee, kind with a beautiful heart and a great strength in battle. Helesdir, the father of your child. A man with a strong will and strong morals. He was brave to give his life so that we may keep ours. Now, with the baby in your womb, he lives inside of you. He will be a good person because Helesdir was a good person. He will be a good person because you are a good person. That is all I can say that I have learned. You can take that any way you like. But I am honored, truly honored, to have known you and all of our friends. All of us who bonded over triumph, over sadness, and over love on all our adventures together.

From Theomin’s hand,

It has been two weeks now that Eleswith has gone. What she meant to me is beyond measure and I wish her only the best with her child and in Dale. What she said was coming was no small surprise. A book came which chronicled all that had gone on during my journey north. This book arrived but a day ago. It spans from my time in the Wold and the events of Langhold to Helm’s Deep and Kaymel. It spans the meeting of the Warriors of Eriador in the Lone Lands to the meeting of Gerald in Bree. It covers the taking of Annuminas to the retaking of the city and beyond. This is a fantastic book and I cannot believe all of it has been chronicled for me. The hours it must have taken to write this book to its detail had to be long. I must give the author his due.

Malga, the author of this book, said once before that if he was not a warrior, he would have been a writer or a poet. Through this book, he has proven to be an careful writer. I cannot stress the painstaking detail that he went through, delving into what I did in Rohan, the horrors that we faced in Eriador, and the love we all shared and lost. I cannot stress how amazing this made me feel to have all my adventures here in one book. Now I can show it to my mother so she could have a real sense of what it was like for me, for us, on this adventure. Perhaps some day I will be able to go back to Eriador if only to thank Magla for this remarkable gift he has given to me.

As of now, my father still has not come back. But there is hope. A message has come from Gondor speaking of a band of men that has been enslaved in Mordor. They are a band of men from Gondor and Rohan that have been taken and have not been found since. Perhaps my father is among them. If so, maybe one day, I will see him again. Maybe one day, I will go to him. But today, regarding this book, “The Family Line,” the one that has recorded what really happened on my journey to the northern kingdoms, it is at last, finished.

Part 150 – Reunion

The day turned to night as the cool breeze flowed over the Misty Mountains into the northern most end of Rohan. The stars shown bright in the night sky and the moon illuminated the land in a pale-toned light that lightly shown the fields, hills and trees of the Wold. A mist hung in the north and the white of the snow that still sat in Wildermore reflected the moon’s light mystically, as if a white sheet had been placed on the western mountains of the land.

In the distance, nearby the hills that led up to Wildermore, a small camp had been set up with tents gathered round small campfires. Boxes upon boxes of stolen goods were collected and placed all around the tents; spoils of the thievery the men who occupied the camp. In the light of the campfire were the brigands. An ill look they had upon their haggard faces as they were men of unfriendly repute. Once they may have been allied with the enemy, those who attacked the small village of Langhold. They sold their country out to the dregs of existence only because they were sold a story of riches without the bothersome nature of hard work. Now with their dark ally gone and their hopes of conquest shattered, they were only scattered bands of unruly men who prayed on the weak state of the land. Men whose only care in life is to steal for themselves and install fear into the hearts of the good men of the Wold.

Theomin felt as though it was the same type of men as the ones in Eriador. They took on the same look and had the same air of villainy as the Angmarim or the brigands in Bree. So disgusted Theomin was with those kinds of men that he needed to remove them thereby hopefully sending a message to the bands of brigands that the Wold would not stand for their kind any longer. They could no longer take advantage of the weak state of the land in which Theomin so dearly loved and missed.

But first, before he had any inkling to go and send such a message, Theomin needed to find his mother. He snuck around the eastern side just outside view as the rest of the men were busy talking with each other, loudly laughing in their drunken stupors and being obnoxious with each other as some also sloppily fought each other. No guards were posted. No sentries stood watch anywhere. It was as if they had confidence that the sad state of the Wold would offer no resistance. Theomin was going to make sure they would not feel that confidence any longer.

At last, he happened upon a cave at the southern most part of the camp. It sat atop a small hill and was guarded by only one tent. The men guarding it were so caught up in their own business they had not a clue Theomin was at the cave entrance. He had not seen his mother in any other part of the camp. So, he knew his mother had to be inside that cave. Without been seen by anyone, Theomin slipped into the cave. He continued into the shadows of the cave and nobody saw even a glimpse of him.
As he continued into the cave, there was just the slightest flickering of a light just a little further inside the cave. The voice of one man began to come to Theomin’s attention. He could not hear any other voices but the one man’s. “Such a pretty thing could earn some nice coin off in the east,” the voice said. “Of course, if I did sell you, you would have to be unspoiled. No scratches or bruises. No bleeding cuts. I’ll have to make sure the boys handle you with care next time. But then again, what if I want you for my own. Make you mine,” he began to whisper, “Make you want me.” There was a little noise that came from inside the cave as the man seemed to chuckle a little as he continued, “You’re a feisty one you are.” There was then the sound of a slap and a thud.
Theomin heard all he wanted to hear. He gathered his nerves and quickly walked into the light of the cave. The man was staring down at the floor. There, laying on the ground, was his mother. Her hands were bound behind her back and her legs were tied together. A piece of cloth was wrapped around her mouth so she could not speak.

The man looked very much the same as the others. His cloth was not as ragged as the others in his group. It was as if he wore what he had stolen. He had a beard and ragged hair, greasy and stringy as if it had been a long time since had washed it. The man then noticed Theomin standing at the entrance of the cave. He reached quickly for his sword but Theomin swung his staff, which hit the man in the chest. Such a strike it was that the man flew back into a box of his own spoils. He tried to rise again but Theomin made sure he would not. He swung his staff again, and it whirled such a furry of wind that it, again knocked him down to the ground.

“You will not take from the Wold ever again,” Theomin said. “You will leave this place and never return.”
“Who are you to tell me what to do?” the ruffian said. “You are nothing to me. Go take your righteousness somewhere it belongs. We own this land.”

Theomin raised his staff and a beam of light came right through the rock in the ceiling and hit the ruffian. The ruffian fell to the ground, paralyzed. He looked up at Theomin who stood above him. “What have you done to me? What manner of sorcery have you done to me?”

“I am no sorcerer,” Thoemin said. “I am a man protecting my land.”

“Why have you come?” the man said. “Leave us in peace.”

“It is you who have not left my land in peace,” Theomin scolded the man. “You talk about peace but you do not practice it. You plunder this land. You pillage and leave this land in fear. I am here to make sure that does not continue. I am here to end your reign of fear and intimidation. If you come out again, you and all of your mates lives will end.” The man said nothing. He just lied there with a smug look upon his face.

Theomin came to his mother and removed the restraints that bound her. She looked up with weakness and only smiled as she saw him. She seemed not to have the strength to say a word but her face told Theomin everything. A look of pure joy came upon her and she brushed her hand upon Theomin’s beard as she looked at it and stroked it. Theomin lifted his mother up and walked her out of the cave.

“Help!” came the voice from inside the cave just as Theomin exited the cave. At that point, most of the ruffians who were around the cave looked up at Theomin who was escaping with his mother. They gathered what weapons they had and ran up to kill Theomin.

He softly placed his mother on the ground and quickly lifted his staff to the sky, a large electric charge stretched from the staff and Theomin’s raised hand as he then slammed his staff to the ground. Instantly, multiple bolts of lightning came screaming from the heavens and struck the many advancing men. Others saw what had just took place and ran toward Theomin. He sent a devastating tornado of winds and lightning twisting around the rest of the men as they were either flung far away or struck by the lightning bolts that emanated from the twister. Soon, the twister died down and all that was before Theomin was a mess of bodies, both strewn and smoking from the heat of the lightning.

A few steps were heard behind Theomin as he then looked back at the cave. The same ruffian who had once taunted Theomin’s mother looked at the devastation. In a gasp, he looked on Theomin, “What have you done?”

“I did what I had to,” Theomin told the man who had lost all he had gained from the Wold. He looked then sternly at the defeated ruffian, “You will return all you plundered from the people of the Wold. You will do so because you now have enemies in this land. Gather what men you have remaining and begin tonight. If you do not do as I say, swift action will be taken upon you and the remaining men in your band. Do not test me.”

Theomin then went to take his mother who refused the aid of Theomin. She looked at Theomin with regretful eyes as she said faintly, “I can walk myself.”

She limped off toward the farm as Theomin followed close behind. As they continued to walk toward the farm, Theomin asked, “What is it mother? What happened? Can I not aid you?” She only stayed quiet for the entire length of the trip back to the farm.
At last, in the dark overcast depths of night, they made it to the farm. His mother was still limping but less so than before. At last, at the center of the farm, the children came out to greet their mother with hugs. She knelt down before them as they all came with happiness and tears, telling their mother they loved her and they missed her.

Eleswith came out and greeted Theomin, “You saved your mother,” she said proudly. But looking upon Theomin’s face, he did not seem happy. “What is it?”

“She,” he started to say, “she is upset with me.”

“How can that be?” she asked, “You saved her life.”

“I did not think it was going to madden her,” he said. “Many of the ruffians who took her were going to attack us. I had not a choice but to kill them. I thought she would be thankful in that.”

“I am, Theomin,” she finally said as she stood up from greeting the children. “I am so glad to see you and thankful that you have returned.” She came to Theomin and stroked his beard again and looked sadly into his eyes, “But at the same time you have not returned. You are not the Theomin who left us so long ago. You are not the same boy who went in search of his real parents. You are different. You speak different. I look different.”

Theomin looked at his mother as if he had suddenly realized all the things he had done on his journey to find his family. It was as if he was not that same boy who left the farm. He looked down and the sudden weight of his entire journey came crashing down on him, “I know I am different,” he began to say, “had a great many things I had to do. I did things I am not proud of but I could not remember until now. I promised myself I would not hurt or kill anything on my journey. Time after time I broke that promise. I had to do so many things, mama.” He began to cry as he came to his mother and placed his head on her shoulder as he wept, “I am so sorry, mama. I am so sorry you had to see me that way.”

She held him tight as she said, “I know, I am so sorry I reacted the way I did,” she said. “I could not believe what I saw and I could not hold in my feelings of confusion. You left us, so innocent, so loving. I know you have not the time to tell me how you came to be who you are now, but whatever it is you have become, I hope you still have the love for us that you had before. I hope that has not changed.”

Theomin pulled back, finished with his sobbing. “I have not loved you any less than I did before. In fact, knowing my family and the history behind it, I love you all more than ever.” He hugged his mother again as his mother looked over at Eleswith.

Eothea then asked as soon as Theomin pulled away, “And who is this who traveled with you?”

“This is Eleswith,” he said as he came to his friend’s side. “She is from Dale.”

“Is that where you traveled to?” Eothea asked.

“Not there,” Theomin said. “I traveled all the way to Eriador. It was on my way, through a part of Eriador called the Lone Lands that I met Eleswith and her group.”

“Oh,” Eothea said. “What type of group was it?”

“We fought the orcs in the Lone Lands,” Eleswith said.

“Oh,” Eothea said. “So, you are a fighter too.”

“All my friends in Ereador were fighters, mama,” Theomin said. “We had to be. Up in the wilds of that land, things are dark and menacing.”

“And there were many occasions that Theomin saved us,” Eleswith said. “You have a remarkable son.”

“Well, fighting was never in my blood,” Eothea said. “I was relieved when I heard Theomin liked books and lore more than sword fighting. Something that I hoped I taught him well since he was a young boy. It looks as though I had not impacted  you as well as I had hoped.”

“But it did,” Eleswith said. “Time and time again he cared not to fight. He wanted to avoid the fight but in the end, he did what he needed to do. When Theomin met his father, his real father, he and his men were on the precipice of war. They were one night away from taking back a great city from a group of evil men who occupied it. He did not want to fight. So much so that he fled from the compound in which we were hiding. He did not want to go to battle. He wanted peace. But his father was a strong man with a strong will. Theomin went, he did battle, and if it was not for him, I think many more men would have fallen that day.”

“I would not put it that way,”Theomin said. “Of twenty men I had under my charge, only a few remained. Many more men died under my charge than any other commander. I have regretted that since that day.”

“You cared for those men?” Eothea asked.

“I did,” Theomin admitted. “I cared for their safety. In the end, I feel I let them down. I let down Taidir and Herion as well. And I let down Helesdir too.”

“Who were they?” Eothea asked.

“They were friends,” Theomin said. “Friends who died…” he paused as Eleswith and Theomin looked at each other with a deep history of sadness in their eyes, “They were friends who died saving our lives.”

Part 149 – Home

The day grew bright and the two travelers, after the many days ride from Eriador, were finally on their last leg of their journey to Theomin’s home. After a brief morning meal and a quick walk to the stables, the two were off on the road heading north from Floodwend on toward Theomin’s farm.

A while it took before reaching the Undeep, about a half a morning ride. But something caught Theomin’s eyes as they approached it that he did not expect. The Undeep was unmanned, damaged and burned almost to the point where it could very well soon collapse. Such damage was not what Theomin had thought to see on his journey home.

“What happened here?” Eleswith asked.

“I do not know,” Theomin whispered in shock. “Maybe fifteen men manned this outpost. Not but one mans it now. I fear what might of happened here.”

As they traveled on, Feldberg too had fallen. The palisades had all been burned and inside, the tents of the Rohirrim who occupied it were also burned or they were ripped to shreds. No Rohirrim had remained in the small outpost of Feldberg either. Theomin remembered that Feldberg was the place he stopped to look for Eotheron before he took his journey. Upon seeing the mighty Wold outpost destroyed had placed fear in Theomin’s heart knowing that perhaps not all was as he left it in the Wold.

Further north they traveled and with each passing settlement, they saw even more destruction. Burned buildings, fallen fences and unoccupied outposts. It was as if something horrible happened in the Wold. “What was it, though?” Theomin thought to himself. “What horrors befell my beloved land?”

In the distance, the city of Harwick stood, damaged and burned. Its flags, which waved proudly in the wind atop the meadhall of the town were ripped and some had fallen. It was no longer the great and proud city it once was. It looked as though it had fallen to some enemy. “But where was that enemy? And where were the citizens of the Wold?” he wondered to himself.

They began to pass the city of Harwick when they soon looked toward a farm that Theomin remembered from his youth, that caught his eye. It was the small farm just south down the slope of Langhold. Still intact and still okay, Theomin hoped it was okay to approach the farm. They took the small path toward the farm and saw one farmhand working in the nearby field.

Soon, a farmhand was seen tending to his crops. He did not see the two travelers coming and was startled when Theomin yelled out, “Ho there!”

The farmhand turned to see the two travelers coming to his field as he placed his hoe down and leaned his weight on it as he wiped his brow which was full of sweat that had accumulated on it with his sleeve. “Hello there travelers,” he said with a welcoming tone. “What brings you here to…” he leaned in to look at Theomin as he squinted his eyes just to make sure he was seeing who he thought he was seeing. “Theomin?” he said close to shock. “Son of Eolf?”

Theomin smiled as he knew of who he was talking with. He was the farmer who always supplied his family with the freshest of strawberries just at the beginnings of the summer seasons. In turn, his family would supply the man’s family with good meats from the stalk on the farm. “Good morning, Aglund,” he said as he knew he recognized the man.

“It has been too long,” Aglund said with a longing tone. “Such a long time since you have returned. I heard you went out to find something. Has it really taken this long to find what you were looking for?” Theomin smiled and quietly nodded. “So you found what you were looking for?”

“Yes,” Theomin chuckled a little under his breath. “More than what I was looking for, in truth.” His tone then became serious as he wanted to know about the Wold in his absence. “What happened here in the Wold? It would seem as though it was overtaken.”

“Those accursed Easterlings and orcs. That is what happened here,” Aglund said. “The middle of March came and with it, a host of the enemy stormed the Wold from the north. Those who were left over from the summoning of the king could not keep them at bay. The son of Aldor Harding, Leofwig tried to keep the city of Harwick safe from those filthy animals but they were too many.”

“The men of Wildermore then came and routed the enemy, but their victory was a short lived one. Leofwig was injured in the melee that followed after his push to take the enemy on horseback. Soon, all they had left was a last stand on the hill of Langhold. They tried to hold there to keep from being destroyed. Many of us retreated to the city of Langhold.” His head fell, “Many did not make it.”

“And what of my family?” Theomin asked. “What of them? Did they make it to Langhold?”

“I had fear that you would ask me that,” Aglund said. “I saw not a member of them in Langhold that night nor have I seen them at all since then. But while escaping up to Langhold, I injured my leg rushing up to the gates. Thrymm Redbeard saved me from being slaughtered by the many orcs and Easterlings that came to slaughter us all.”

“What happened with the enemy?” Eleswith asked. “Where are they?”

“The strangest thing happened that night,” the man said. “It was like a great moaning came from below. We could not see as there was a thick fog that came in. From where that fog came from, I know not. The light of the moon only reflected on the dense fog that had came in. That morning, all was silent. Not a hide nor hair was seen of those Easterlings. It was as if they had vanished. Thrymm said he saw something like what we saw that night in Wildermore. Trees that uproot themselves and take to the battle field. Led by,” he paused because he did not rightly know how to describe them, “treeish people they were. Just as fast as they came, they left.”

“What of the man, Redbeard?” Eleswith asked. “Where did he and his men go?”

“They went to the war,” Aglund said. “The war that the King and his men went off to fight in the east. I know not whether they have returned but a great many of the soldiers who were still in fighting condition went off to the war. Old men went as well as young. Many were not old enough in my opinion. Before the events of that night that left this land shaken and wounded, Aldor Harding had already left for the mustering in the south. Those who were left over were the only ones to tend to the defenses of the Wold. Strong and hardy folk we our men are because we need to be. The Wold is the farthest from the king’s hall of Meduseld, so we must be ready to fight on our own. And we did so until those Easterlings broke our defenses and marched into our lands. But most of those folk who were the hardiest left with Aldor Harding. I know not how many left from the Wold, but it would seem a great many took to their horses and rode south to a muster.”

Theomin’s heart was low. Stopping to speak with farmer Aglund proved not well for his fear of his family’s fate. The enemy came from the north. If they did so, they must have passed his family’s farm. Right in the path of the enemy was his farm. Other than Stangard, the northern most frontier stronghold of Rohan, his farm was the only one that was right on the boarder of Rohan.

“We best be off,” Theomin said. “I yearn to see if my family is well. If they were to survive and flee to Harwick, it would seem they did not survive long. If they stayed at home, I fear they were no safer there than anywhere else.”

“Your friend, Eotheron,” Aglund said. “I have not seen him either. Did he journey with you?”

“He did,” Theomin said after pausing for a while and then regrettably said, “But he did not return.”

“Oh,” the farmer said as his head fell low. “It is regrettable indeed. This war has taken too many good men’s lives. It sounds as though you had your own war. It is good to see your return, Theomin.”

The two departed the farm. It took not long before they reached the main road and continued north as they passed the ruined town of Langhold, where Thrymm and his men spent the night as a last stand; the same town who’s fall sparked the beginning of his whole adventure.

Approaching his farm, he envisioned his family as they were just as he departed. His two brothers Umbred and Ulred were the youngest. Twins who Theomin remembered his mother caring for so long. They were always rambunctious adventurous twins but the soonest as one was hurt, they cried to their mother. So innocent they were, not knowing about the world ahead of them. But then that was how he saw his family at large.

Ealyn, his little sister was also in his mind. Her devotion to Theomin almost made him feel like a father to her. As their father was so busy with the fields and hunting for food in the prairie, she would always want to be nearby him. In fact, she depended more on Theomin than either one of their own family. Such a feeling of hers always broke his mother’s heart, but in the end, she understood why.

Eolf, his father and patriarch of the family was such a steadfast strong man. He was the one of the family who pushed the family to sell food in Harwick. He forced Theomin to study in Langhold, even if Theomin only wanted to learn lore as opposed to sword skills. Quite the skilled swordsman he became, much like his father. Theomin hoped to show off his skills not only of the sword, but of his skills with his staff. He knew that such skills of lore and swordplay would make his father proud.

His mother was the last and most precious one of the family. She was such a peaceful and yet playful person. Very young they were when they took Theomin into their lives. So, she had such the playful streak that not many children’s mothers had. Not even Eotheron. He remembered the nearby ruins where he playfully hid from his mother as she searched for him. He remembered swimming in the waters of the Anduin with her. He remembered riding off on “Adventures” with her as they rode their horses toward the northern bridge and eating lunch there in the afternoon sun. With regret, he remembered when he left on his adventure. He left his mother behind. The only person who meant to be his mother. He was ready to see her along with the rest of his family. He longed to see them and soon, he knew, he would

Rounding the path that took them along the edges of Langhold, he finally was able to see the top of the windmill spinning in the breeze. The windmill which sat at the northern edge of his farm was a sign he was right close to his home. His heart lifted as he was relieved, the windmill was still standing. If that was still standing, the rest of it was undoubtedly standing. He dashed off on Bragga toward his farm.

Eleswith gave out a, “Wait for me!” as she too pushed Dale as fast as she could to follow Theomin.

As Theomin approached his farm, he could see all the houses were intact. Each one was still standing and no damage was done to them. But as he closed in to his farm, he noticed something curious. As bustling as the farm was with his brothers, sister, and father all outside on their own actives, not a soul was outside. There was no work on the pigs, the horses or the crops. No children were out playing. Nobody outside slicing apples or laying in the sun. The farm, in the middle of the day, seemed abandoned. And that was when Theomin’s heart sank as fear coursed through is veins.

“Hello?” he yelled out for his family. “Mama? Papa? Ealyn?” He ran around the houses to check. Not a person was there. He ran to the stables. No one, not even the horses were there. He ran into the house but all that was there was a slight mess, an unkept bed, and some boxes strewn about. He went outside distraught and not knowing what to do.

“Where are they?” Eleswith asked.

“I know not,” Theomin said with worry. “It looks as though they must have left in a hurry. The horses are gone and the inside of the house looks like things were packed up in a hurry.”

“Where could they have gone?” Eleswith asked. “Had you a safe place to go in the even of your land being invaded?”

“The only place was,” he sighed with fear as his own voice began to shudder, “Harwick. They would have gone to Harwick. But just like Langhold, Harwick was razed.” He slammed his hand on the side of the house, “How could I be so stupid to leave?”

“Do not, for one second, blame yourself, Thoemin,” Eleswith scolded Theomin. “You know not what happened to them. Besides, we have not yet checked all around this land. They could have gone to one of those razed towns just to try and be safe, just like that Red-beards man went during the invasion. Perhaps we can check there next.”

“Don’t move!” a voice came from behind. It was not the voice of a man or the sound of a very threatening person. It came from, what sounded like, a little girl. “Do not even think about turning around. I have an arrow on you and if you turn, it will soon be in your heart. I am a good shot, especially close up. I am warning you.”

Theomin did not turn around. But he just called out, “Ealyn?”

The voice said nothing for a while but it did not sound like the person went away. “Who are you?” she said.

“This is Eleswith,” Theomin said. “And I am Theomin.”

“You are not Theomin,” the girl said. “Theomin is dead.”

“I am not dead,” he said. “I am very much alive, as you can see.”

The girl said nothing again. She kept quiet for a while and then came up with, “Prove it. Prove you really are Theomin,” the voice said, hope was starting to creep into her voice as it began to turn shakey.

Theomin thought for a moment. He then came up with, “On the night after we built the basement to the house, I stayed awake all night. You came to me in the morning after you slept. You could not find the words to describe how horrible the brigands were who sacked the town. You then said something that started me off on my entire quest. You said you wished they knew where their mothers where. Then they would know right from wrong. That was me you said that to. Do you remember?”

There was another pause and then the little girl said with a sobbing voice, “Theomin?”

He turned and as soon as he saw her, he knew it was Ealyn. “Ealyn!” he crouched down as she ran into his arms. “I have missed you so much,” Theomin said as he held her tight.

“We all missed you here,” said Ealyn. She pulled away to look at Theomin. She placed her tiny hands on Theomin’s beard as she looked into his eyes. “It is you!” she said as she embraced him a second time. Her tears dripped from her eyes onto the scarf of Theomin. “You were gone for so long we all thought you were dead. Mama cried for so long and she kept saying she wished she never told you. What did she tell you? Why did you have to leave?”

“It does not matter right now,” Theomin said. “Where is everybody? Where are mama and papa?” Ealyn looked down as if she was saddened all of the sudden. Her face turned pale and she was obviously distraught. “What happened here?”

“Papa left,” she said. “He left a long time ago and has not yet returned. He went to the stupid war the king wanted to go to. He said that, as a man of the Rohirrim, he had an obligation to the king to fight by his side. That was so long ago and I do not know why he has not come back.”

“And mother?” Theomin asked. “Where is she?”

“She was taken,” the little girl said. “There were so many nights we stayed in the basement, just keeping ourselves safe after papa left. Mama wanted us all to stay in there while papa was away, just to keep us safe. There was one night that we did not stay in the basement to sleep because mama thought it would be safe. It was terrible down there, sleeping in such a small space. So mama wanted to leave it. She thought it was okay to finally stay in the house. So we did. We stayed there for a little a few nights and then,” she paused. She seemed to not be able to complete what she was saying.

“What happened?” Theomin pressed Ealyn. “I have to know.”

“They took her!” she cried. Her eyes closed as tears began to fall from them and her opened as she finally seemed to cry out as loud as she could as if she was keeping it down for a long time.”

“How long ago did this happen?” Eleswith asked as Theomin held Ealyn close.

“It seemed like it was not too long ago,” Ealyn said. “Maybe a day? Two days? I do not remember.”

Theomin held the arms of his little sister and looked into her eyes, “Do you know which way they went?” The little girl was still sobbing as he shook her just a little bit which startled her, “Which way? I need to know.”

Ealyn looked at Theomin with shock. She then turned and pointed toward the western side of the land. “I know I saw them heading that way. I saw their torches for a long time at night before I could not see them anymore.”

Theomin rose up quickly and with anger marched over toward Bragga. “What are you doing, Theomin?”

“Stay here with Ealyn, Eleswith,” he said loudly with rage. “I am going to take back my mother.”

 

Part 148 – Theomin’s Promise

Three days the two traveled through the Westemnet to the Eastemnet. The days were warm and humid and the skies, at times, broke loose and released rain on the riders as they traveled back toward Theomin’s home. Mostly, the skies were drenched in clouds, large ones that reached great heights and those were the ones that unleashed their rain on them.

The land was flatter than any land Eleswith had ever seen. She had never seen such great expanses of green flat lands before. Off into the horizon the grasslands seemed to stretch, off farther than her eyes could see. Such amazement she had not expected nor did she ever hear of such an expanse of grasslands. Through the entire trek, from Helm’s Deep to Woodhurst to Garsfeld, she could not stop commenting on how wondrous the expanse of the fields of Rohan showed. But, that beauty was tainted as they traveled to each place, Thoemin and Eleswith continued to hear more and more about the war to the east and the Battle of the Pelennor Fields.

What they learned is as follows:

After the Battle of Helm’s Deep, in which the forces of Saruman were repelled by the men of Rohan, a select few traveled to Isengard to confront Saruman. Afterward, what ever information they heard, the forces broke into two. A new group of men called the Grey Company took the leader of the opposition, a man named Aragorn. He and his fellowship traveled through the Dwimaburg, the haunted mountain.

Word was sent out by the riders of Theoden that they were all to travel to Gondor and confront Sauron’s forces in Minus Tirith. Many men volunteered to travel to Gondor and aid in the war against Sauron. Many men never returned. Those who did not return either died on the fields of the Pelennor or at the Black Gate. Many others either stayed to aid the fight as it was brought into the realm of Mordor. Others returned, but a great many had not.

Grief has struck the small villages of Rohan. So many have died, so few have returned. So many good men and soldiers have met their fates in Gondor and at the Black Gate. And Theomin remembered his friend at the beginning of his journey. Kemel, the brother of Kaymel. Kemel was a good man, strong and if he was anything like his brother, he had a good character. What was his fate? Did he last the night in the attack at Helm’s Deep? If he did, did he survive the battle in Gondor or the Black Gate?

So many questions raddled around his brain as they continued through Rohan. He remembered Eashae, the one who aided him and Keymel to find the mother of the family. Was she with Kemel and riders or was she did she stay in Rohan? If so, no hide nor hair was found of either of the friends that helped him. Eomer must have gone to Gondor. And since he is king, he must have survived Gondor and The Black Gate. If there was anyone who may know the fates of those two friends of his, it must be Eomer. Of course, he would not divert his attention to ask the king of Rohan. He was so close to home, he could not find it in him to turn back to Edoras and ask the king. So, they continued.

On the fourth day the two traveled through Rohan, they finally reached the edge of the Wold. A path led from the Norcrofts to the Eastwall and the river Anduin. Along the river, as it flowed south toward Gondor, Theomin remembered the large statues that stood guard over the northern border of Gondor. The Argonath stood there, two statues with their hand held out toward the north, warding off any evil that may want to travel there. He remembered the promise he made to himself that day so long ago when he first saw the statues off in the distance.

He remembered the unspoken promise he gave himself as he traveled to the Elthengles that day. He remembered that, as he traveled back home, he would at last take in the splendor that was the steadfast resilience of the Argonath.

“Eleswith,” he said as he paused Bragga for a moment. “I have wanted to visit the statues to the east of here.”

“I had hoped we would get to the next town before dark,” Eleswith said. It has been a long ride from Garsfeld and I am very hungry.”

“I know and so am I,” Themon admitted. “But these are statues that I promised to visit as I left my home so long ago. Now that I am here, I want to fulfil the promise I gave to myself.”

Eleswith thought for a few moments. Her exhaustion was showing on her face and her bottom was feeling the pain of the saddle that she had been sitting on for a very long journey. Never-the-less, she agreed and they were off in the small path that led eastward.

Not long after their departure from the road north did Eleswith have her first glimpse of the statues. Not at all what she was expecting, she was staggered by the immensity of the two statues. But she tried not to say a word as the made their way closer to the two great statues to the east.

At last, as the daylight began to wane, did they finally reach the two immense towering statues. In awe they were as they dismounted and stood at the base of the two towering figures that stood tall and proud opposing any threat that may come from the north.

“When you wanted to see these statues,” Eleswith started, “I believed you wanted to see some stone figures as tall as men. I had not the idea that you wanted to see such towering figures.”

“For so long this was in my mind to see,” Theomin said. “As I traveled south toward the Elthengles, I saw just a glimpse of them in the distance. They were towering, amazing statues those of which I could not fathom the size. So much larger than that of the Colossus in Evendim. I could not wrap my head around their shier enormity.”

“Nor can I,” Eleswith admitted awestruck. “Such an amazing thing I cannot even believe would exist. I am surprise that more people are not here wondering in amazement at the utter beauty of these statues.”

“I wonder that myself,” Theomin said. “I remembered reading about these statues when I was just a young child in Langhold, the nearby town by the farm I grew up in. I remembered hearing of such statues and thought nothing of it. I believed the statues to be no larger than those you imagined. Stone statues no larger than the size of man. But how could I discount the size of them when they were built by the Numenorians. They always seemed to build structures and statues to be so grand as to be revered by all.”

The two stood in awe for a while longer as the stared up at the two great towering statues. Soon, the sun fell behind the western wall of mountains. The two mounted their horses and took the road back to the main path that led from the Elthengles to Floodwend.

As they approached the path that led toward Floodwend, for just a moment, Theomin wondered what the harm was if they were to travel all the way to his farm. They would reach the farm in the middle of the night, but at least he would be home. He looked at Eleswith who looked, without a doubt, exhausted. He stayed his suggestion and decided to continue on to the village of Floodwend.

The mood there in Floodwend was much different than the first night he spent. The people were much more cordial, offering them food and a place to stay. That night, they had a good meal and the place they stayed in was quaint but nice. He harkened back to his first stay in the grass outback from the tavern on the southern end of the village. He told his story to Eleswith, who seemed surprised because of how different their reception was this time.

That night, sleep came fast to Eleswith with a full stomach and a resting body. But rest was not easy for Theomin. He had trouble sleeping. He knew he was on the last night of his adventure and could not get himself to sleep with the amount of anticipation he felt. He stood from his bed and looked at Eleswith who was fast asleep and drooling. Quietly he left the small cottage they had on the northern part of town to travel down the path in the quiet street of Floodwend and looked at the wooden structures of the village. They were in typical design of Rohan. Light-reddish-brown wood with horse designs that flanked the front door. The thatched rooftops occupied all the rooftops except for the meadhall and the nearby watch towers. The lamps that ran along the stone fences along the edges of the paths had also the designs of horses with a chain hanging from their mouths and a pan at the bottom and a pan of fire at the top. All of it reminded of the little town of Langhold. The town’s destruction of which began his entire journey.

At last, his wandering brought him to the very spot he stayed the night he came through Floodwend the first time. He remembered the sight where he laid and stared at it as he remembered all that he went through throughout the year. Helm’s Deep, Dunland, Gerald in Bree, the two drakes, the battles in Annuminas, all were amazing feats that he could not even fathom that night that he stayed in the grass there in Floodwend.

He knelt and laid in the bushy weeds that occupied the ground. He stared up at the stars in the sky. He remembered the anticipation he held in his chest that night he left home. The only thought in his mind back then was the thought of the Gondorian tower in the Norcrofts. He had not a thought of what was going to come on his long journey. How could he? All he went through, all he did in Eriador changed him. He hoped it changed him for the better. He knew not back then he was such a resilient man. He knew not back then how ambitious he was. He knew not back then the adventures he would be on or the lives he would change.

His thoughts drifted to Sergee and Estonethiel. He wondered how their marriage was and the lives they were living in Annuminas. He thought of them roaming the streets of the great white city, talking to the wardens of Annuminas and visiting Ost Forod. He thought of the dwarf, Krovrin, who happily took up the job of Marshall of Annuminas. He thought of his good nature and the gladness he had helping Theomin in his battles.

He remembered Magla and the mantle he took up as mayor of Bree. He thought of the great responsibilities he had as mayor, coming from such humble beginnings in the Lone Lands fighting alongside Helesdir. He remembered when Magla said he would have rather been a writer than a fighter. He wondered if Magla would ever think about writing stories about their adventures. If so, he would like to read it someday.

His thoughts went to Sylderan and what he would be doing at that point. He left him in Eregion as he wanted to find his friend in Moria. He only hoped that Sylderan would not continue through Moria as he remembered the friends he lost in those mines. He hoped that his elf friend was okay. He would always remember his elf friend as the one who saved him twice and who helped him on his last fight to retake Annuminas. He was his first friend on his long journey yet the only one who he barely knew. A funny twist of fate that was, yet not entirely surprising. Sylderan was an elf with a great task ahead of him. As the leader of the Twilight Host, his loyalty was only to the Lady of the Golden Wood. Once he knew the torch of leader was passed on to his kin, he then stayed and helped his friends. Such a loyal elf friend Sylderan was. He was glad to know him.

After another hour of laying in the grass and staring up at the stars, Theomin stood up and made his way over to the small cottage that was set up for him and Eleswith. He walked slowly down the street as he tried to remember the last time he stayed there. His memory was becoming clouded as sleepiness began to set in. He reached his cottage and as he came in, he saw his friend still sleeping heavily in her bed. He smiled and was glad for her company. Soon he too laid down in his bed. He closed his eyes and found it easier to fall to sleep. It would not be until the next day that he would finally reach the farm, his home.