Everything Changes

Snowbourn.
The village was built on each side of the Snowbourn river, a couple of miles before the river crossed Entwash. During the time before and in the middle of the war of the ring in 3021 and 3022, Snowbourn had held many great riders, but none had come to answer the call of King Théoden...and so then men of Snowbourn had to live with that shame forever. However, there was one person they had answered...one person they'd died for. That man passed into memory and peace before his time and the war, and so the soldiers of Snowbourn never got to fight for land and lord. But, there will yet come a time when depths will be paid...

Snowbourn had no big race course, but a small and pretty one-mile-oval. It was here that the people of Rohan gathered that day on May 24th...
Yes, it was the time and place for the Snowbourn Filly Derby, the first part in the filly Triple Crown, Triple Tiara.

For every filly that wasn't mature enough to challenge the colts, this was the dream and way to eternal glory...and the three thousand people's grandstand was nearly full. There had been one Triple Tiara winner since 3022 and that was the dark mare Ruffian in 3025. The Triple Tiara's three legs were the 1 1/8 mile Snowbourn Derby, the 1 mile 1,000 Guinnes and the 1 ½ mile Oaks. Five fillies had before this day won the two first races and four the two last...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Déora sat anxiously on Wonder's Shadow's back and looked around. A couple of meters away, Èodor was sitting on Shining's back and had a hard time keeping the nervous filly calm. They had considered for a long time who would ride the two fillies in the Derby. Mark was riding Rocky's Highs in the Frost King stakes on Westfold race track with Sam and Èlfwyn in the stands, while Déora, Èodor and Sirius were in Snowbourn.

Èodor was a very good rider, but had never really thought about racing. Though, like most rohirrim he had the license that was requested to be allowed to ride in a race. Déora had first thought about riding Shining, but Èodor had suggested that she should take the energetic daughter of Wonder instead. Shining might be nervous, but Shadow had the a bit fiery nature of her sire and grandsire. Not that Èodor wouldn't have been able to handle her, but Déora had raced in over twenty races, while this was Èodor's second.

There was, however, something about the nineteen-year-old boy that Déora felt strange about. He was different than the other young men in his age...and he reminded a bit of Déora. She didn't know how and why...but sometimes she could feel like there was more about him than just a handsome man of Rohan. They were born on the same day, which might have been the reason to their close relation.
As the horn blew, Déora rode Shadow onto the track. Èodor was trotting a few horses behind them.

It was a warm and bright day in May and not a cloud was visible on the sky. Shadow and Déora would start as number one, while Shining and Èodor were the fifth in the ten-horse-field.
Déora turned to look at Èodor, who gave her a quick smile. There was something about that smile and look it the eye that made her feel both uncomfortable and safe. His eyes were blue like the evening sky and there was something they were hiding.
Unfortunately she would not be able to look into those eyes during the race, since Shadow ran close to the pace and Shining far behind.

The gates flew open and Shadow bolted off like an arrow. In the fifth track, Shining leapt off cleanly, too...but Èodor kept her back, while Déora charged the darker filly towards the front.

"They're off in the 3040 Snowbourn Derby...and Sunflower takes the lead followed by Ramona and Wonder's Shadow." The announcer cried in the stands. "Then goes Foxy Girl, Léofa, Rain and fire, the favorite Kashana, Shining...Glory's Lady and Shasé. The first two furlongs are made in 25 ¼ and Sunflower is increasing the speed..."

Déora kept Shaodw away from the rail, but still close enough for no one to pass on the inside. Like Shérgar and Reigh Count, Shadow had a stron lead and always set off in a new gear when changing the leads. When looking quickly under her left arm, Déora saw Shining galloping steadily in seventh...

They were running down the backstretch and soon the time would come when Kashana and the other closers would set off in the chase...
But, whatever would happen, she wouldn't let Shaodw off until halfway around the turn. Shadow gave a frustrated snort and Déora put a calming hand on her neck. "Not yet, girl..."
She glanced behind her back and saw Kashana and Shasé start to close up on the outside. Èodor and Shining were still waiting, and Déora could have sworn that she saw a hint of a smile on his lips as they drove into the turn. As they reached the point Déora had been waiting for, she showed the whip once to Shadow and let her hands go down the filly's neck. No more encouragement was needed...
The dark bay filly lengthened her stride just as Kashana reached her tail.
At the top of the stretch, Shaodw swept past Sunflower and Ramona and set off along the empty track in front of her.

"Wonder's Shadow takes the lead, followed by Kashana and Shasé...but the roan filly Shining is chasing them down..."

As Déora saw Kashana and Shasé, she gave Shadow all rein and asked her for everything she had. Shadow didn't complain, but rain with her whole heart. They reached the sixteenth pole unchallenged, but then she could hear familiar hooves and in the next instance, Shining and Èodor appeared on the outside. Èodor smiled, "It's between us now..."
Déora smiled and they both let the fillies all out.

"It's Wonder's Shadow and Shining when there's less than a furlong to go...and the others are far back."

The two fillies fought neck and neck, but at the wire, Shining showed a bit more heart and gave one final effort by putting her head in front of Shadow as they crossed the line. Èodor waved his hand in victory, and to Déora's surprise, she was cheering, too. Shadow and Shining had just taken a double victory for Ridgewood in the prestigious filly race, the Snowbourn Derby. Though Déora was a bit surprised that Shining had beaten Shadow, she couldn't be without enjoying the moment.
It was perfect...

Èodor rode up to Déora and looked closely at her. He had taken off the helmet and his dark blond hair was flying in the wind. Déora took off her helmet, too, and let the wind play with her somewhat lighter hair. She had let it grow longer and the tops touched her back. They smiled at each other...and that moment Théodred's words made their way into Déora's mind and heart. "There is another..."
The crowd was gathering in the winner's circle and Déora turned Shaodw off the track, while Èodor and Shining went for the winner's circle.

* * *

Déora groomed Shadow carefully and slowly...without a word. The moment she had looked at Èodor, was a moment she would never forget. She loved him...but it wasn't the love between a man and a woman, but the love between siblings. Memories of her childhood filled her head. She saw a fair woman in her twenties, holding a bundle in her arms. She was standing outside a small cottage somewhere in Westfold. The wind blew her golden brown hair into her face and bright tears were falling down her face.

Déora didn't know how she remembered that, after all she had only been a couple of months old...but she remembered the words her mother had whispered.
"Farewell, Théodor...I'm sorry, but I have no choice. You and Théora can't be brought up together..."
It hit her that quiet moment in that simple stall in Snowbourn. The truth...there is another...
Of course, Èodor...or should she call him Théodor. All these years they had known each other. Déora remembered at five, when she and her mother had visited Fréda's and Èodor's family before leaving for the elf realm not to return before eight years later. She, Èodor and Fréda had played on the courtyard and rolled in the grass. Fréda was six and she and Èodor five...
However, all too soon she and Èlfwyn had to ride north. They saddled Hearm and left at dawn.
Èodor's last words had been, "You'll always be like a sister to me...no matter what." And when she had returned as a thirteen-year-old, he had been there to wait for her, together with Fréda...and she had told them everything about the elves of Mirkwood and their magnificent villages and horses. About Wonder and Reigh Count...Whirlaway and Slew O'Gold...

That same year they had helped her and Èlfwyn, who had now a six-year-old son, too, build up the house that soon would be the heart of a Thoroughbred Farm. The six-year-old boy, Asséf, wasn't Èlfwyn's own son...but she had adopted him when he had lost his parents at two.
Déora's victory with Wonder in the 3031 Breeders' Cup Classic had given them enough money to get their own place...

Beside her, Shadow snorted and looked at Déora a bit confused, as if to say, "Hey...stop dreaming and finish grooming me..."
"I will..." Déora muttered and stroke the filly's coat with the brush.

She left the stall two minutes later and found Sirius and Èodor in Shining's stall. They both looked up at her cold face and Sirius gave Èodor a questioning gaze, which the younger man returned with a shrug. "Èodor...I need to talk to you..."
"Can it wait until we get back home?" He said. Déora nodded and walked towards the entrance of the barn as Sirius called after her, "We'll leave at dusk and ride the whole night..."
She nodded and stepped out in the sun. Her eyes fell upon a banner with a white horse and silver field...and watched it swing violently in the breeze. She wondered if she should tell him about her flash...maybe he wasn't the one she thought him to be...but on the other hand, she knew it in her heart...and her mother had told her to always listen to it...

At dusk they mounted the horses and rode the one hundred miles back home under the cover of the stars...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sun made its way up from behind the snow covered mountains when the three riders trotted onto the stable yard at Ridgewood. When the horses were comfortably in their stalls, Déora dragged Èodor aside and took him to the old oak that was so identical to the one where she had first met the Black Dragon. From the hill they could see the whole farm and the river.
Èodor looked at Déora closely and she wasn't sure whether to tell him or not. After a long while of silence, she said, "Èodor, there's something I need to ask you."
"Go ahead..."
"Do you...I mean, are you Fréda's borther?"
He looked at her for a long while, obviously confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean...is Elana your real mother?"
For a while she thought he would stand up and leave, but then he sighed. "I don't know why you ask this from me...but the only thing I know for sure, is that Garett is not my father."
"What about your father?"
"I never knew him. He died before I was born. They said he died five months before my birth..."
"In February?"
"Yes..."
"My father died in February, too..."
Èodor's expression told her that he was both surprised and uncomfortable. "Who was he?" She almost whispered.
"They never told me...but now that you mentioned it, I think I remember them saying that my father only loved one woman. But was it...Elana?"
"Èlfwyn..."
"Your mother?"
Déora shook her head. "Our mother."
"What?"
"It makes sense..."
"Hold on...we are born on the same day, aren't we?"
"Yes."
"They told me I had a twin sister, who died as a baby..."
Déora smiled. "Are you sure they never told you about your father?"
Èodor nodded. "Though I know that my birth name is not Èodor..." When he said that Déora's eyes widened. Please, say it's Théodor. "They told me my name was too easy to relate to my father. He must have been of some importance. Why other hide his son...?
"Indeed he was...Théodor."
Èodor blinked. "How do you know my real name?"
Yess! Déora smiled. "I guessed...okay, kidding. I remember mother's words..."
"Hm...Déora." He mused. "Could that be the false name of Théora...?"
"Bingo!"
"Then we are..."
"Twins."
Èodor's eyes sparkled. "What about our father?"
"Guess...if our names start with Théo..."
Èodor fell silent and thought about his sister's words.
"He died on February 25th 3021..." She whispered, trying to give her brother a clue. "He rode a dark bay steed named after the second King of Mark...but he also had another. A silver white proud meara...and he was a leader of his people..."
Èodor's mind flashed and he said in a quiet whisper, "Prince Théodred...?"
As he opened his eyes he found Déora smiling at her. "It cannot be..."
"But it is..." Déora stood up and whistled a short melody. Seconds later, Shérgar came galloping towards the hill and stopped a couple of meters away from the rohirrim. Déora turned towards her brother and said in a serious tone, "I know you'll never believe me...and it might seem like too much for one day...but here's this colt's story..." And so she told Théodor about her first encounter with the black stallion and Théodred at the Fords of Isen and the spirit that lived inside the mighty frame. In fact, she told him everything about their adventures, the order of the Black Dragon, the men of Min Rimmon, the war...and he listened. When she finished, he looked lovingly at the horse, which surprised both Déora and Théodred. "It was a tale I thought to be only a myth...that great warriors return as great horses..."
"A myth it was, Théodor...as have many things been."
"Does this mean...that Théora and I are the rightful heirs of Rohan?"
"Yes...but since you are the boy, you would be the crown prince..."
"But, I don't want to become King..."
"You don't have to...but listen, son. Much would have been different had you not been raised as you were. The throne is rightfully yours, but my cousin's coronation was not illegal. At the end of the war...he was the closest relative to the King and my father made him his heir when I died...so, Èomer is theoretically the rightful King, too. But, had you been born earlier...and been of proper age when I died, you would have become King of Rohan and succeeded my father."
Théodor nodded understandingly. "They don't know, do they? That their prince and lord had an heir...or actually two to be more specific."
"No...and this must remain a secret until the time has come..."
"Is there anyone who knows?"
"Yes, your mother, Lady Elana and...Sirius."
"How...?" Déora asked. "I mean, it's quite obvious that our mother knows...but does Elana know whose children we are...and why does Sirius know?"
Théodred chuckled. "At your birth, Elana came on Èlfwyn's bid to take away either of you. She chose the boy, since her husband wanted a son...and a boy would be too easily related to me if you stayed around your real kin. Elana stayed for three months in Èlfwyn's house, making her husband believe, she was giving birth to their child. As the fact of the matter was, Elana had given birth to her own child only weeks before your birth...but the child was born weak and died. But look...two babies, about the same age as her own, lay in front of her and Èlfwyn needed to part them to hide their identity. So...Elana sent a letter to her husband, ensuring him that everything was well, and that she had given birth to a baby boy...and would be coming back as soon as he was strong enough to travel." Théodred paused and Déora jumped up on the colt's back. "Some conspirary..." Théodor laughed and jumped up behind his sister, who touched the horse's sides with her heels and set off towards the farm. Théodred slowed down the pace as they reached the paddocks. "What comes to Sirius...he knows because he was my loyal scout and right-hand man and friend. However, back then he was known as Sérof."

He halted in front of the barn and the twins slid off his back.
Èlfwyn, Sirius and Elana, who had come by on her journey to Edoras, looked up from their tasks as Déora and Èodor walked up to them, with the black horse closely behind. "Good morning..." Déora greeted as she, Èodor and Shérgar walked past the three adults and into the barn.

"What was that about?" Elana asked Èlfwyn, but Èlfwyn stood frozen, looking the black horse in the eye. He had turned his black head at the doorway and was looking with his dark eyes on the fair woman in front of him. And he spoke...
Not aloud or with words...no, none of that was needed. Èlfwyn understood. How she did that, no one knew...but from that day on, the life on Ridgewood would change. As the colt walked into the barn, Èlfwyn shook her head, "Nothing I suppose..."

Nothing indeed, Lady Èlfwyn...daughter of Rohan. As the time goes on, you desperately try to stop its rush...but you are caught between two worlds, not being able to escape...
Between lie and truth you live...
Between secretary and trust...
But, do not fail,
You haven't lost anything...yet.

As Èlfwyn walked up to the house and closed the door behind her, she said in a quiet whisper that only one person could hear. "Ernil nïn...Si na'ï veth...Gerich veleth nïn, Le no an-uir nïn?"

Tancavë...

~ ~ § ~ ~

May turned quickly into June and new destinies lay ahead. On the second week of June, Wonder's Shadow beat the field in the 1,000 Guinnes and won by four lengths over Shasé and Kashana. Shining, on the other hand, never entered because of an ill fated leg.
Déora would remember that day of June 12th for a very long time, if not forever. Shadow had done her best race ever. The dark filly had run for all that she was worth and won the second leg in the Triple Tiara.

The summer of 3040 was overall special. It was perfectly warm and peaceful. However, the eternal happiness brought alerted words into Déora's head. She thought back on the day of 13th March, a year earlier. The day Théodred had told her that too little pain can only mean one thing...and that it's a bad omen. Be on your guard...
And on her guard she was...and she wasn't alone. Now she had Théodor...her long lost brother.

Another thing that cheered her up, was that she had scratched Shérgar from all races during the summer, except for the Whitney Stakes on June 26th.
One week before the race, Déora mounted Wonder's Pride, the chestnut yearling colt that she, Èlfwyn and Sérof had been brining along since April and rode away from Ridgewood. Though the colt wasn't even close to being ready for the track, he was amazingly mature under a rider, despite his young age. Unlike Shérgar, Pride was a kind and calm foal. He had a lot of spirit and had instinct of a winner, but wasn't of the fiery kind, which was a nice change on the list of Ridgewood-trained horses.

Déora let the young colt canter south-east a couple of miles and didn't stop until she saw a big oak on the top of a small hill. Six riders were waiting for her under the tree and she hurried Pride towards them. A dark haired girl in her age was the first one to stand up. Déora gave Rana a warm smile and dismounted Pride. Hurana and Zett were looking curiously at the chestnut colt. He was slightly under sixteen hands, had a stripe on his head and four short stockings. Déora followed their gazes and smiled. "This is Wonder's Pride."
"A new one?" Zett asked.
"Yapp. He's just seventeen months old...so I'm just taking him on a little ride."
Rolai walked up to the colt and stroke him gently. "It's amazing how these creatures can be so god darn beautiful." Déora rolled her eyes. "Yes, but we weren't supposed to talk about horses, were we?" The others shook their heads and they sat down in the grass, while Pride and the six other horses grassed happily around the hill.

One by one the seven members in the order of the Black Dragon told their news about the earth. Lastly, it was Déora's turn. She took a deep breath. "I thank you for your information. Personally I have very little to tell you...but it's quite important. I haven't happened in the way of neither Taleski nor Crownguard, except that Lord Ainsley was at Belmont Park race course when Shérgar was supposed to race in the NCH...but that was really nothing."
"What did he look like?"
"He's big like an oliphant. Okay, not really, but not far from..." Déora answered Hurana's question before continuing. "There is, however, one thing you need to know. There is another..."
"Another?" They all said in one voice.
"I have a brother...I never knew, and I'm speaking of a real brother. Actually we are twins...but we were separated at birth."
The young riders gave each other questioning looks, but Déora ignored them. "His name is Théodor...but he's gone under the name of Èodor."
Caleb wrinkled his nose. "You mean Lady Elana's son...?"
Déora nodded. "Except that he's not her son...but Èlfwyn and Lord Théodred's. He'll fight with you and me...I know. There's more about him than he lets you know. He's got his father's blood running through his veins...and somewhere inside that kind and common frame dwells a heart and mind of steel and fire...a talent far beyond my own. Somewhere...deep inside lives a King and lord...a leader of men and beast...like his father. Remember that if he had been older at the end of the war...he would be your king."
"Or you our Queen...?"
Déora shook her head. "Rohan has never had a ruling Queen...and that won't change in a hurry. Besides, it's always the oldest son that is the heir to the crown...and since we are twins, it's him."
Rana looked down. "So...here our hope lies now...upon two twins...neither crowned nor knighted...heirless and born in the wild...far away from their kin and rightful title...?"
"No." Déora said simply. "Our hope lies on the people...on you. I and Théodor can't fight alone." A weak smile appeared on Rana's lips and she said, "We made an oath...not that easily broken and..." Her voice died.
"We'll fight." Hurana finished with her chestnut blond hair flowing around her face.
Déora nodded. "Meeting's over then?"
She rose up and walked up to Pride, who was still grassing close to the Oak.
"Yes..." Rana said. "But, there's one more thing. Two more have joined our Order." Déora looked curiously at her. "Really?"
"Yes. Aylaa of Wold and Gawain of Mirkwood..."
"An elf?"
"Yes."
Déora smiled. "Maybe we'll be able to create an army after all..."
"I don't know about an army..." Caleb said. "But a league strong enough to hold the enemy at bay...but we need at least one hundred..."
Déora nodded. "I know, but...don't forget, there are depths to be paid. There are men out there... waiting for their lord to blow his horn...waiting for the heir of their prince." She mounted and was about to leave, but turned yet to look at Rolai. "Le hannon, Rolai. Thank you again for riding Rocky..."
"No problem." The seventeen-year-old boy smiled. Déora turned Pride around and argued him into a gallop towards Ridgewood.

* * * * * * *

Edoras Race Course, June 26th

Èowyn, the lady of Ithilien, could feel the tension in the air as she sat down beside her husband Faramir and brother Èomer at the Edroras race course's royal quarters. Elboron and Èlfwine sat to her left, talking anxiously about stuff like horses, the race, battles, training and sparring. Èlfwine was two years older than Elboron, who was going on sixteen. Èowyn overheard her nephew say, "I hope Shérgar will lose again so that I can mock that girl Déora for it..." and sighed. She gave her brother a meaning look, which he returned with a shrug. Lately èomer had been quiet and the King of Rohan spent more and more time for himself. If it had been a few years or months ago, èowyn would have understood her brother, but it was nearly nineteen years ago since uncle Théoden had died. Once, when being in Edoras, she had asked him why he kept thinking about that day, but he had simply shaken his head and turned away. Now Èowyn had the feeling that he wasn't at all thinking about their uncle, but someone else...

Yes, she had caught him one night standing alone outside the city and put a candle in front of one of the kingly burial mounds. Next day when she had ridden out of the city, she had seen the candle and it was not at Théoden's mound, but at Théodred's. She missed her cousin very much and even at times of peace she longed for his strong arm and undying valor and kindness, so it wasn't actually very surprising that Èomer missed him. After all, Théodred had thought him most of the things he knew, though only being a couple of years older.
Théodred had only been twenty-seven when he had found his end in a battle hardly remembered...far away from honor and glory...and heroic deeds. Not that he would have cared...but sometimes his death seemed so in vain. But, he had fought for his people and his kingdom, no matter what his own destiny would be...

Èowyn shook the memory out of her head and paid attention to the track where fourteen horses were tossing around behind the gates. Fourteen horses where of Gendangó was the favorite with Supervalue in second, War Admiral in third, Shadow Dancer in fourth and Shérgar in fifth.
The horses loaded one by one and seconds later the gates burst open and the Whitney Stakes was on. As usually, Shérgar broke off clean as a whistle and took the lead effortlessly, with Gendangó a length behind in second. The announcer was calling out the race, but Èowyn didn't listen. She watched Gendangó's jockey move the big chestnut colt up to Shérgar as they turned for the backstretch and Èowyn forced herself to listen to the announcer. "Oh, yeah...44 ½ seconds for the half mile...and there's three quarters to go...and our home boy Gendangó is pressing on Shérgar..."

And indeed the chestnut colt was, but Shérgar kept his head stubbornly in the front. It was amazing how Shérgar had such stamina and heart. He had raced twenty-five times and only four had been losses. Shadow Dancer had beaten him at two, Seattle Slew and Supervalue in the same race at three and Gendangó and Radan at four...
Of these losses, three had been photo finishes and one by a length. Èowyn remembered the day Gendangó had beaten him by the length. The wildest party had been arranged in Edoras and even her brother had been in seventh heaven after a couple of ales.
And Èlfwine...the young prince couldn't have been happier. The great champion Thor had lost to Shérgar in the match race, but Gendangó had won him in a stakes race...

Someone touched Èowyn's shoulder and she looked up at Faramir, who nodded towards the track. The field was driving into the far turn and for a second it looked like Gendangó would be leading, but then she saw a black colt four lengths in the front and she tried to hide a smile.
"Shérgar seemed to have a good day today..." Faramir said. "I have to admit that I bet ten coins for him, but...don't tell your brother or nephew."
Èowyn laughed. "I certainly won't...but the race isn't over yet."
"Maybe not...but have you never heard that colt's story? Once he's got the lead he'll never release it. Of course there are exceptions...but we'll see. At least he's got some speed."

They watched as Shérgar reached the top of the stretch and picked up the speed that would take him to victory. Gendangó and War Admiral were coming up swiftly, three lengths behind...but the Black was a rival to match. No doubt's there...

In the infield, the people ran up to the rails and cheered their hero on. Faramir looked at the scene with wonder. "Westfolders?"
"Probably." Èowyn said. "They are very keen about their own champions...and why shouldn't they be. It's not every day a Westfold horse beats the "blue bloods" from south and east..."

Shérgar reached the sixteenth pole, five lengths ahead and shot past the wire by 6 1/2...tying the stakes record at 2:01 1/5.

To her left, Èomer cursed half aloud as War Admiral, too, beat Gendangó at the wire by a half length. Smiling to herself, Èowyn rose up and made her way down to the track with the men behind her.

The black colt's jockey Déora had taken off her helmet and sat proudly on her champion's back, when Èomer stepped into the winner's circle and handed her the golden globe. It was then she saw it...a silvery necklace with an orb on the edge of the ornament. Théodred. She thought.

Shérgar moved a bit frustrated under Déora, but remained steady until the end of the celebration. Èowyn studied him from head to tail and couldn't be without noticing with her rohirric eyes the heritage of the mearas in him. Her eyes fell upon his chest, where an old scar was barely visible. Had she not looked so closely at the colt, she hadn't seen it. It looked like something sharp would have cut open the horse's chest and upper abdomen. Her thoughts wandered off to Théodred and started to feel sick as she thought about that terrible black wound that had killed her cousin and future king.

The crowd started to break up and Èowyn watched as the horse and rider trotted back to the stable area, before leaving the track herself. She did not want to worry the others, but she would only stay in Edoras a couple of days and she had much to find out. Èowyn took her horse Windfola and rode the half mile between the track and the city of Edoras in a full gallop and didn't stop until she was alone within the walls of the Golden Hall.

Déora...
Who was that girl?

Her brother and husband found her hours later, searching through her old room, but she asked them to eave her alone for a while. Èomer's wife, Lothrile tried to question her, but Èowyn gently told her that she needed time for herself.

She didn't know for how long she had searched, but it was dark when she walked in the candle light to a room she hadn't been in for nearly twenty years.
She opened the wooden door and stepped into her cousin's old room that had been kept untouched for all these years and she and her brother were the only ones that had the key to this room. Théodred's bed and sheets wore a thin cover of dust and the beautifully carved wooden table had signs of ageing. In the left corner next to the door was a scaffold with his old armor. When he had been buried, he had been dressed in a kingly attire and whole armor, while the armor that had taken the blow of the cursed Orc blade was still in his room.
Èowyn walked silently up to a large chest that was next to the walk opposite the door. Her steps echoed in the silent and dead room. She found the key to the chest under one of the pillows after a couple of minutes of searching and opened the chest. These things were obviously things Théodred had wanted to keep in secret and hidden, and she felt a bit guilty as she searched through her dead cousin's precious property.
She found several scrolls and quills...and some of his old royal attires and clothes. She felt warm tears on her cheeks as she took up a deep green attire with kingly patterns.
Then she found the small box that had the letters "M" and "V" on it. On the side was written some ancient text in Elvish and Rohirric that said, "Through life and death shall the Orb of Arda shine brightly over the one who carries it..." She took a deep breath and opened it...

Èowyn gasped. It wasn't empty, but the necklace was gone...
Instead a small scroll of parchment lay there. She took it up and opened the seal. The script was beautiful and it was written in reddish black ink. It was not Théodred's writing...but someone else's.

Dear Théodred!

Long is it since I've seen you, my lord dearest.
Every night and day I think about you...
I just have to say that they are beautiful, so much like their father...
I named them after their father and kin. The girl is Théora and the boy Théodor.
But, I have to give away either of them...and you know why. The lady I speak about is a woman of honor and she'll take the one I give and love him or her as her own.
I've heard rumors that you've been ambushed by Orcs, but I don't listen to them...
Wherever you are, please, Théodred...my prince, come back!

Love, you-know-who!
July 3021

Èowyn stopped reading and sat silently on the cold floor for a long while.
Théodred had an heir...and not just one...but twins?

She closed the box and threw the scroll into the empty fire place. How was this possible?
She needed to know more. Desperately she started to search through the chest again...and to her surprise she found a leather book she hadn't seen before. She brought it closer and opened it.

A neat handwriting had written seven words on the first page, Théodred son of Théoden. Prince of Rohan.

She turned to the next page, but didn't stop to read as she saw that the date was September 2098. Instead she turned the leaves until coming to the last pages and stopped at the date of January 3021.

I have come to suspect many things. Rohan is no longer safe...and my own death lies ahead.
As the King's only son, Saruman will seek to kill me and rid Rohan from her heir. My father sits on his throne, but it's not he and he's never alone. To kill Grima Wormtongue, would I think, set him free, but second Marshall of the Mark...no treason for me. Someone else rules the sacred horse lands, but there's still hope...as long as we have faith. Three months ago Gandalf the Grey arrived at our fair hall...and moments later he left, carried by Shadowfax.
Rohan will prevail as long as its people defend and love it. If I'll find my end, the hope will lie on Èomer and Èowyn, but also on my unborn child.
Long is it since I've seen Lady Èlfwyn's sweet face and I'm afraid I'll never see it again.
No honor have I left. I fight for love of my people and Kingdom, but the glorious taste of battle won, no longer dwells in my mind. My heart is broken, but not my people's. I pray that our end won't be the end I have found. Because, I know that this might as well be the last tide of the prince and second Marshall of the Mark.

Father, in case you'll ever sneak through my things...I want you to know that I love you.

February 10th 3021

We rode to Westfold. Grimbold took the men to the Fords, and I rode swiftly to say farewell to my love and unborn child. She made me promise that I'll return and I couldn't deny her bid. Fair Èlfwyn of Westfold. My heirs shall carry the necklace and the ring...
As long as they are carried by a son or daughter of Rohan, there'll be hope for my people...

Èowyn lit a fire and the lady Èlfwyn's scroll burned in the flames, while Èowyn kept Théodred's diary tightly in her hands. She felt like betraying her cousin by reading things he had so carefully and successfully kept hidden for more than twenty years.
She had no idea what to do. The heirs of Thédored could be anywhere...but she knew where to start as she was quite sure who the girl was...

A/N: Translation: "Ernil nïn...Si na'ï veth...Gerich veleth nïn, Le no an-uir nïn?" My prince...now at the end, you have my love. Will you be mine forever?
"Tancavë" Yes

* NCH = Nassau Country Handicap

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