curiouswombat (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
curiouswombat) wrote2011-06-06 08:26 pm
curiouswombat) wrote2011-06-06 08:26 pm
Drabble Set - Realities of Parenthood.
I wrote these for the Fell Beasts challenge at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tolkien_weekly which finished three weeks ago - and just remembered to gather them together, here.
There are six drabbles looking at the realities of parenthood as discovered by Éowyn.
In my long series of stories Faramir and Éowyn call their first son Boromir - followed by Théodwyn, Finduilas, Echthelion, and Elboron, their youngest. These stories feature Boromir and Théodwyn as small children of about four and six.
Realities of Parenthood
As a teenager, Éowyn had imagined herself Théodred’s bride. They would have children; providing an heir to the Mark would be her task. She had never thought past the ‘it’s a boy’ announcement…
So much had changed since her innocent days. Providing heirs to the Mark was not her responsibility – her children were of the House of Húrin, genteel Gondorian nobility.
‘What a shame,’ she thought now, ‘that I did not think of real motherhood, then.’
She paused, mid-thought, “Boromir!” she yelled, “Desist! Stop that now!”
Then continued, ‘For I could have practised my skills on a pack of wargs…’
………………………………
Clashing Cultures
Sometimes, Éowyn thought, life was like tightrope walking; one foot wrong and she might plunge into a bottomless chasm. At other times it resembled a child’s toy of prisms and chips of glass – one tiny change and the whole pattern was different.
Others might have thought such fancies true no longer; now that she was a happily married matron of Gondor. But it took but a moment for the words of her brother, Rider-King, from her son, Gondor-Princeling, to plunge her spiralling down into ignominy...
Shocked faces, silently appalled, all turned to her as Boromir’s expletive echoed outwards… “Orc Spit!”
………………………………
The Secret Lives of Parents
“Eldarion says his uncles fought a dragon… has uncle Éomer fought a dragon?”
Éowyn wasn’t sure whether Arwen’s brothers had really fought a dragon – she was, however, certain that Éomer had not.
‘They call dragons ‘wyrmes’.' She shivered, the thought unbidden; even now Grima’s spectre came too easily.
Then Aragorn, entering un-noticed, answered.
“Éomer King has fought many foes. But both he and Eldarion’s uncles would agree that your mother’s feat in battle was greater still.”
“Mummy?”
“Yes – your mother slew the Great Witch King – a dread foe indeed!”
Later a voice was heard to say “Dragon? Huh! That’s nothing…”
………………………………
Elves are Girly...
Éowyn enjoyed visiting Ithilien’s Elves. The children did too – but, sometimes, the extra freedom seemed to intoxicate them until they were embarrassingly wild.
Legolas, being helpful, offered to take the older two on ‘an adventure’.
“Not Théodwyn,” Boromir said, “she’s girly – she’s even afraid of spiders!”
“So am I, sometimes,” said Legolas, and Éowyn could see her son thinking ‘Girly Elf!’
“I have seen spiders bigger than your pony,” the Elf went on, “and tiny ones whose bite can also kill.”
“Dead?” Boromir questioned.
“Completely.”
No more was said but, as the three walked away, Boromir held Legolas’ hand… tightly.
………………………………
And Things That Go Bump In The Night
Théodwyn certainly showed herself to be blood-kin to Éomer. She could be remarkably determined; some might say stubborn.
Not only had Éowyn failed to convince her daughter that it was quite safe to sleep in the Elven building amongst the trees, but now Legolas was having the same problem.
“Really, pendithen, I promise there are no dangerous spiders…”
Still the child sat, stolidly, refusing to budge.
Served him right for mentioning them to start with, Éowyn thought.
The Elf bent to lift Théodwyn, who clung to him, then groaned, “But Boromir says there is a tree troll under the bed…”
...........
Pendithen - little one.
………………………………
A Guard For Your Dreams
To Éowyn’s embarrassment Théodwyn clung to the elf, refusing to let go.
Only his promise to stay, bow beside him, to guard her from tree-trolls had convinced her to settled down. But Legolas remembered, as if it was only scant years not yéni, being equally afraid to sleep after such tales.
He knew, though, this child would not, like him, meet the monster of her childhood fears; whereas he had met his nightmare face to face, as Gandalf had battled the balrog, fighting fire with fire.
‘Had he seen you,’ Legolas thought, ‘he would have said you are worth it…’
………………………………
Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only, and all rights remain with the estate of JRR Tolkien.
tolkien_weekly which finished three weeks ago - and just remembered to gather them together, here.There are six drabbles looking at the realities of parenthood as discovered by Éowyn.
In my long series of stories Faramir and Éowyn call their first son Boromir - followed by Théodwyn, Finduilas, Echthelion, and Elboron, their youngest. These stories feature Boromir and Théodwyn as small children of about four and six.
As a teenager, Éowyn had imagined herself Théodred’s bride. They would have children; providing an heir to the Mark would be her task. She had never thought past the ‘it’s a boy’ announcement…
So much had changed since her innocent days. Providing heirs to the Mark was not her responsibility – her children were of the House of Húrin, genteel Gondorian nobility.
‘What a shame,’ she thought now, ‘that I did not think of real motherhood, then.’
She paused, mid-thought, “Boromir!” she yelled, “Desist! Stop that now!”
Then continued, ‘For I could have practised my skills on a pack of wargs…’
Sometimes, Éowyn thought, life was like tightrope walking; one foot wrong and she might plunge into a bottomless chasm. At other times it resembled a child’s toy of prisms and chips of glass – one tiny change and the whole pattern was different.
Others might have thought such fancies true no longer; now that she was a happily married matron of Gondor. But it took but a moment for the words of her brother, Rider-King, from her son, Gondor-Princeling, to plunge her spiralling down into ignominy...
Shocked faces, silently appalled, all turned to her as Boromir’s expletive echoed outwards… “Orc Spit!”
“Eldarion says his uncles fought a dragon… has uncle Éomer fought a dragon?”
Éowyn wasn’t sure whether Arwen’s brothers had really fought a dragon – she was, however, certain that Éomer had not.
‘They call dragons ‘wyrmes’.' She shivered, the thought unbidden; even now Grima’s spectre came too easily.
Then Aragorn, entering un-noticed, answered.
“Éomer King has fought many foes. But both he and Eldarion’s uncles would agree that your mother’s feat in battle was greater still.”
“Mummy?”
“Yes – your mother slew the Great Witch King – a dread foe indeed!”
Later a voice was heard to say “Dragon? Huh! That’s nothing…”
Éowyn enjoyed visiting Ithilien’s Elves. The children did too – but, sometimes, the extra freedom seemed to intoxicate them until they were embarrassingly wild.
Legolas, being helpful, offered to take the older two on ‘an adventure’.
“Not Théodwyn,” Boromir said, “she’s girly – she’s even afraid of spiders!”
“So am I, sometimes,” said Legolas, and Éowyn could see her son thinking ‘Girly Elf!’
“I have seen spiders bigger than your pony,” the Elf went on, “and tiny ones whose bite can also kill.”
“Dead?” Boromir questioned.
“Completely.”
No more was said but, as the three walked away, Boromir held Legolas’ hand… tightly.
Théodwyn certainly showed herself to be blood-kin to Éomer. She could be remarkably determined; some might say stubborn.
Not only had Éowyn failed to convince her daughter that it was quite safe to sleep in the Elven building amongst the trees, but now Legolas was having the same problem.
“Really, pendithen, I promise there are no dangerous spiders…”
Still the child sat, stolidly, refusing to budge.
Served him right for mentioning them to start with, Éowyn thought.
The Elf bent to lift Théodwyn, who clung to him, then groaned, “But Boromir says there is a tree troll under the bed…”
...........
Pendithen - little one.
To Éowyn’s embarrassment Théodwyn clung to the elf, refusing to let go.
Only his promise to stay, bow beside him, to guard her from tree-trolls had convinced her to settled down. But Legolas remembered, as if it was only scant years not yéni, being equally afraid to sleep after such tales.
He knew, though, this child would not, like him, meet the monster of her childhood fears; whereas he had met his nightmare face to face, as Gandalf had battled the balrog, fighting fire with fire.
‘Had he seen you,’ Legolas thought, ‘he would have said you are worth it…’
Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only, and all rights remain with the estate of JRR Tolkien.