Come closer stranger, let me tell you a story about bravery, gallantry, love and sacrifice....Let me tell you the story of Theonbyre and Merowyn....
There was once a young boy, he was the youngest son of a farmer. His elder brother was a soldier at the King's army. One day they received a letter from the Prince that Dageron, thats the elder brother, had sustained a heavy injury and died during a skirmish with some orc. The boy's grief was so great that he decided to serve his King in his brother's stead.
The young boy was taken to learn riding, the art of sword and spear and the art of war and tactics. The boy had a talent for it, and soon he was the leader of a small band of Rohirrim warriors, patrolling the West borders of Rohan.
By then, the boy had become a young man, with golden hair and deep blue eyes. He stood tall and young women in Edoras shyly looked at him and marveled his handsomeness. But alas, fate has it that the one that has the admiration of many, also has the envy of some.
A young woman, one of unmatched beauty, had deeply fallen in love with the young lad. If there was any match for that young man, she was definitelly the one. That love was not left unoticed. Not by the young man, nor her betrothed, who happened to be of noble birth. Her betrothed could not stand such disgrace and called upon the King to act on it.
And the King did so, with extreme prejudice and regret, for it was a loyal man that he had to punish.
As they were about to execute the young man, his once and forever love did the only thing she could do. She fell on the King's feet, she begged. But the King was bound by the law. The honour of the nobleman was stained. Justice had to be applied. It was then, that the Prince intervened. The Prince reminded the King of the noble sacrifice of the young man's brother as well as the loyalty of the accused. The King's mind and heart were divided. How can he harm a man of such loyalty? On the other hand, how can he not punish him for his misbehaviour?
The nobleman demanded blood. The Prince came with an answer: Stangard, a fort at the northernmost borders of Rohan, on Parth Celebrand plains, just outside of the woods of Lothlorien.
The young man was stripped of rank, arms and armor and was send off on his horse with a few weeks rations and a sword, to live out his punishment in the worst places imaginable, for Stangard was the nest of criminals, assassins, oathbreakers and of other ill-sort of men that resided in that fort, unwanted by the other Rohirrim, to live out their punishments as guardians of the northern borders.
As he arrived there, he noticed how different his life would be now. Alive, but also dead...free, but also caged
There he was given new armor, one that belonged to a former occupant. One who had died a few weeks back. Every night, our young lad looked at the black night sky and all he could think of was the name of his beloved:
"Merowyn..." He used to say just before he fell asleep.
Time passed by. Days became weeks. Weeks became months....
And as such is the fate of men of good will and utility, he managed to gather the respect of all in the fort. In time, he learned to play the bagpipes and compose a balad to quench his woes.
Years had passed and as much his respect from the Stangard soldiers grew, ones for whom villainy is too shallow a word to describe them, that much his bitterness grew, until one day a new group of riders came to join them -supposedly more killers and villains in general.
Till then, five years have passed and the young man was already the Captain's champion. Among the new arrivals was a boy. One of dirty face and of voice that was light. The Captain had asked the young man to talk to the new arrivals and to determine their value. The young man did so. And he asked each and everyone of them their crimes. When it was the boy's turn, the young man asked him:
"What was your crime, that you were sent here?"
"I killed a noble woman" the boy replied
The man was taken aback by the bluntness of the answer, as well as with the crime itself.
"Why did you kill her?" our hero of the story asked
You must understand, that at that time, most of the new arrivals at Stangard were mostly people who were deemed traitors, by order of the King and his poisonous advisor.
The boy's second answer was as blunt and straight as his previous one "I killed her for she had no will to live"
Suprised a second time, the young man asked the boy "What was the name of a woman so bitter and sad, that her will of life escaped her?"
For the third time the answer surprised the young man "Merowyn, my lord"
A wave of anger swept the young man, he reached for his sword and as he held it high for a death blow...He saw it....
As if a glimpse of the past, the boy's eyes peered at him like arrows piecering the veils of his very soul. He could not kill the boy. He fell on his knees and tears ran from his eyes. The men ran to him as he tried to turn his very sword against him. They say they had to tie him down for days in order for him not to end his life.
It was weeks before the young man emerged from his stead, a shadow of his former self. The Captain of the fort, saw it prudent to assign the young boy to him as a squire. For what reason, noone knew. The first order of the day, was to wash the young man clean, for it was impossible to clean him while tied to the bed all those weeks past.
As the young squire was washing the young man, the later began to ask questions.
"What did Merowyn look like before the end?" and "If she had said the reasons she wanted herself dead" and other of that sort
The boy kept silent. Eventually the young man told the boy "You were straight and true with your crime, I hope you will continue to speak it"
The boy was indeed bold and brave. He didnt hide anything from the young man.
"Lady Merowyn was like a star fading"
said the young squire "Her eyes were like the river Anduin, blue and running with waters"
"She asked me if I could offer her a service" the boy said, his emotions were controlled.
"When I asked her of what would a Lady of noble birth seek from a boy of no significance she answered..."
The squire now had the full attention of the young man. "She answered....that she had denounced the vow of unity to her betrothed and for that she had earned the scorn of her father, the King, the Rohirrim, and an enemy who both loved and hated her"
"But more so" the young boy continued "She said that her heart was ripped from her five years ago and that her life had become bitter...colorless..."
"She said how dead she felt, now that her true love was taken from her"
The young man was sitting silent in the bathtab, listening of a story with tears in his eyes
The boy continued "She took out a knife, one that her betrothed had given her as a wedding gift"
"And she took my hand" the boy's eyes drifted away for a moment, as if reliving the event.
"...and she put the knife in my hand, telling me she could live no more"
"And with those words she pulled my hand to her heart...."
The young man sat there, his mind running the scene over and over again. It was a moment before t he young man spoke "So...you didnt kill her of spite or crime...."
"No..." the boy replied as he looked the man in the eyes "...it was out of love..."
And the boy turned away, wiping his tears, for the story had taken a toll on him too. The young man got out of the bathtab and wrapped himself in a warm blanket. The boy turned and as he tried to reach for the oils and bottles with which he cleaned his master, he slipped and fell in the bathtab. The young man found it so funny, that his laugh could be heard outside. The boy felt embarrased, but soon began to laugh too.
The sound of laughter was but a rare thing there and almost immediatelly attacted the attention of the guards, who saw their champion smiling despite of the bitterness he had all those weeks. After dismissing the guards, the young man helped the poor boy out of the bathtab
"Well you are one weird boy" he said "You offered me both bitterness as well as gladness"
"I simply live my life truely, my lord" the boy replied
"Come then, pour me some wine. I have for many years forgotten the taste and smell of it"
The boy was puzzled "Wine, my lord? I just described you how I killed your one true love..."
The young man was not merely brave...He was an intelligent man. One whose mind was as quick as his sword arm
"I never said she was my one true love" he said as he frowned.
"I thought that all that pain..." uttered the boy before he was interrupted
"She is my one true love...I just said I never told YOU" said the young man.
The boy gulped. He just stood there like a cat that ate food not intended for her. Eventually the silence was broken with an order "Come, pour me wine....and do so to yourself"
The boy did as ordered, and they both drunk and the man told the squire to fill the cups again...
and again.......and again.......and again.......and again.... till there was merryment in the stead and the boy began to feel dizzy.
The young man, though did not, for men are less quick to get drunk than boys.
"Exshuse me mah lord *hic* but I do not think I will have any more" said the boy eventually and tried to stand up, only to fall in his arms.
It was then that the man noticed under the dim light of the candles and the fire in the heath that the boy seemed familiar to him. The water of the bathtab had washed away the dirt and the mud from his face.
He held the boy's face close to his own examining him and then, as the boy looked back, overly tipsy...he kissed him.
The young man was so surprised that he fell off his chair, and the boy, drunk as a dwarf in an inn, fell on top of him and the man's eyes widened for it was obvious, now more than ever.
The hair were darker, the face a bit smudged, but it was her. The man could not believe his eyes. Tears began to run from his eyes. Merowyn was not dead!
That very night, Merowyn explained to him how she had denounced her vow to the noble man and after years of confinement she had devised a plan to seek out her one true love, how she transformed herself from a woman of nobility, to a boy of poor stature and how she eventually she managed to get sent off to Stangard with a number of other men who didn't know her true nature. That night it was the first night that the young man didn't say her name before he fell asleep, for he was content that he held her in his arms.
For many weeks he and Merowyn hid the true nature of the woman at day, while enjoying the warm company of each other by night. The nature of their relationship as well as the nature of Merowyn herself was a secret just for the both of them.
The weeks became months and in almost a year time, the young man was sent on a mission to scout the eaves of Lothlorien. Ofcourse, this was a mission like any other the young man had been.
Upon his return to Stangard, one of his kinsmen spoted a lone horse. What was strange was that the horse was briddled and clad in the green crest of Rohan.
"One of our riders?" Asked the young man and he gestured to his comrades to ride towards the horse with him, for it was strange that all men were accounted for and no horse had left the fort unmounted.
As they approached, the young man spurred his horse, for now he saw the horse was whinning and clawing at the dirt and he saw why.
A man lay on the ground before the horse. Pierced with a spear of crude make, bleeding his life away. The horse was proding the man, trying to turn him to the side, clawing to make noise, and whinning to get attention.
As the young man and his comrades dismounted and run next to the man, the horse reared up and tried to fight them off. All but the young man fell back. Only he stood still, looking at the horse with those deep blue eyes. Such was the valour of this man, that even the horse stayed its legs, calming down.
Without wasting time, the man kneeled and examined the fallen warrior. The horse onlooking with sad eyes. "He is dead.." One of his comrades said "His horse gone mad from seeing its master fall" said another, but the young man looked at the one laying before him. He wasn't older than him.
"This man lives..." he said "...barely though"
With a swift move he broke the crude spear extruding from the fallen man's abdomen. Without the need of word or gesture his comrades came to aid him carry the man on his horse, while another tried to take the reigns of the creen-clad horse. The horse, though, did not allow anyone to approach him and reared up again and whinnied. As his comrades took the fallen warrior to his horse, the young man approached the horse slowly. The horse stayed still. He took the reigns and the horse still stood still. He lead the horse to where his own stood, with the man laying on top, supported by one of the men. He took the reigns of his own horse, and got on top.
The body of the fallen warrior, was allowed to lean back to him, and held an arm around his waist to keep him on top. And so the champion of Stangard, with his men, the mortally wounded man and the seemingly tamed horse in tow, headed back to Stangard. It was at Stangard that the man was brought back to life, from the very brink of death.
As the man began to gain back his strength and ability to speak, he explained.
"I was part of an Eored, heading south from Eriador" said the wounded man.
"Of Eriador?" Asked the Captain who wanted first hands knowledge of this man.
"Aye", replied the man. "And what happened to that Eored?" Asked the young man, champion of Stangard.
"We were ambushed by a pack of warg riders just off the Red Horn Pass" replied the patient "I know not of their fate, for I fell before the battle ended"
"Red Horn Pass?" Asked the Captain "But..you are leagues away and on the other side..."
The wounded man, still lightheaded from the pain of his injury, was puzzled "The othe-...but that means..."
The champion spoke "it seems your horse is more than just a companion, friend"
And he explained "It seemed that it carried you away, far from the battle and into safety"
"What horse holds such love for its master, as well as bravery? Pray, tell" the champion asked
"His name is Etheon, my lord..." the wounded man replied
"Etheon....A name of bravery, though I recognize not its meaning." said the young champion.
"There is no meaning to it" said the wounded man "Noone wanted it because of its untamed nature and thus noone named him" said the wounded warrior.
"So I gave him a name, noone would want, for it meant nothing" the man smiled.
While the man was healing, the Captain of Stangard, whose name was Stanric, sent out patrols in order to locate the Eored from Eriador. But each mission was a failure. No sign of Rohirrim could be found on the other side of the Red Horn Pass, nor in the near by settlements.
In the meantime, the champion and his secret lover, tended to Etheon the brave, as they now called him...Etheon the Eorl.
The days passed and the wounded soldier was able to stand on his own two feet. Learning news of the failed attempts to locate his own comrades, the wounded man decided that his fate had now changed, because he had felt an obligation to the men that brought him back to life, he swore allegience to Captain Stanric and the men of Stangard, but moreso, he swore allegience to the champion of Stangard, Theonbyre.
And more days passed and weeks and months and Theonbyre took the man whose life he saved, as a second in his group, for no man could question his loyalty and they named him Théodenhold, for his former name brought pain to the man.
But dark days lay ahead. Reports were given, sightings were spoken, of a great host of men from the East. They spoke of men with dark hair and skin, that began to take over the Brown Lands, an area to the East of Parth Celebrand and they spoke of savagery and fierceness in battle.
But Theonbyre bore, nor suffered any fear of this new threat. Along with his friend, Théodenhold, and his loyal men he rode into battle, inspiring victories during their skirmishes. Meanwhile he also became more and more careless with the secret he shared with his one true love. Fortunately for him, his good friend Théodenhold managed to keep things secret.
Merowyn hadn't been idle, though. She learned both the use of spear and shield, as well as the sword, for such is one of the tasks of the squire. In an attempt help his friend in keeping the nature of his squire a secret, before the men became inquisitive, Théodenhold advised Theonbyre to take his 'squire' in battle. Despite the reluctance of the champion, all three of them decided it would cast a veil on everyone's eyes, convincing that the squire was indeed a boy.
Two days hence the champion took his men, his friend Théodenhold with his brave steed, and his squire to charge on a camp of Easterlings that had sprouted on the eaves of Parth Celebrand.
The night before they rode off, Théodenhold visited Theonbyre's stead and swore to his friend that he would protect Merowyn with his very life, indeed with his very last breath. And so it was that a large part of the Stangard garrison rode out with Theonbyre to meet the Easterlings in battle.
They expected a small group of scouts, but what they saw was a host of men of the East. Despite the opposite council of his lieutenant and many of his men, Theonbyre saught to at least give the Easterlings a taste of things to come. And he would do so, for he had a cunning plan...
He lead his men at night, under the cover of darkness, to the river covering the sound of hooves with water. The Easterlings were caught offguard, since they werent expecting an attack from the East they had just come from. With news of their victory, Theonbyre and his men returned to Stangard almost unscathed.
Days passed and more Rohirrim came to Stangard, one of them wore an eye patch. He had said his name was Grimholt, but keen as they were the eyes of Théodenhold, he noticed Grimholt staring at Theonbyre's squire. It was soon after that Captain Stanric heard reports of Easterlings trying to cross Anduin directly into Rohan. As champion of Stangard, Theonbyre took up the task to dispatch the enemy before they reach Rohan.
For such a mission almost two thirds of the Stangard garrison was required, the Squire too, with Théodenhold being her shadow. The Stangard army reached the river and decided to camp north of Ost Celebrand, for that was where Theonbyre had decided their victory would be ensured. And so they camped and rested for they would meet their enemy at dawn.
And so it was....The riders of Theonbyre charged the enemy, who had their backs to the river. The Easterlings fought very well, for they werent ignorant to the tactics of the Horse Lords anymore, for there was a traitor in the midst of the Stangard warriors.
As the gallant riders charged at their enemy, they found their flanks charged by spearmen. The charge was lost, but Theonbyre didn't lose hope. He rallied his men and called upon their oaths, and called Théodenhold to blow his horn to uplift the spirit of the men. And so the tide turned in favour of the Rohirrim. For every one Rohirrim that fell, the casualties of the Easterlings were tenfold.
But the Easterlings were many, too many and Théodenhold was separated from Merowyn. In the distance, Theonbyre fell his strokes left and right, killing Easterlings like a farmer that cuts out the weed.
You know, they say that what you fear the most will eventually take place, for your fear drives it to come forth into reality.
And there was nothing more that Theonbyre and Théodenhold feared, than the harm of Merowyn, especially for Théodenhold, who knew a secret Theonbyre didn't: Merowyn carried Theonbyre's child.
Théodenhold was too preoccupied with the Easterlings surrounding him. Merowyn's strokes fell true and strong, despite being a woman. The battle seemed like it could fare well eventually, until Theonbyre was then hit by an arrow. The arrow had pierced the shield and found its way to the shoulder of the man. Merowyn, who was closer to Theonbyre, saw him as he fell.
Just as she saw Grimholt jump in front of her, cutting her off. At that point, as he saw what happened from afar, Théodenhold realized what Grimholt was about and so did Theonbyre.
Grimholt, was indeed the noble man Merowyn denounced, the one who had sworn that if he could not have her, noone shall.
The man tried to thrust Merowyn with his sword, but she was faster and managed to strike at his weapon arm, disarming it.
Meanwhile Theonbyre and Théodenhold had already began advancing towards Merowyn and Grimholt. Merowyn used her shield to bash Grimholt in the face, dropping him on his back.
She began to yell "Theonbyre...Theonbyre". She couldnt make him out in the mess of the battle, but he could. He heard her voice and followed it to her, all the while slashing and hacking Easterlings at his path.
Some say that he resembled Eorl the young at that moment. So glorious, so magnificent.
Théodenhold on the other hand, in his effort to reach his charge became less careful. He made mistakes. Mistakes that cost him dearly.
As Merowyn looked for her one true love among the living and dead that littered the battlefield, Grimholt regained his consiousness, drawing a knife, he went for the kill.
"If I can't have her....noone shall" and his strike fell.
"NOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo" boomedTheobyre's voice through the battlefield. It was so loud, so ....almost out of this world, that both Easterlings and Rohirrim paused for a moment.
The sound of stillness, some times, is more frightening than the clamour of swords and the tearing sound of flesh..
Théodenhold's eyes widened as if what had transpired could not fit in them. He raced as quickly as the opponents who barred his way allowed. Rage overtook him. He had sworn to protect Merowyn and now his charge was felled by a stroke, not from an enemy, but one of their own.
As Theonbyre ran up to Merowyn who lay on her belly, he completely ignored Griholt. His blood from his own wound dyeing her hair red as he held her in his arms
Merowyn then spoke her words "My love...my starlet sky...twice now death separates us"
"Once it took you away from me...into strange land"
"...where death is your constant companion"
"...hidding you away from me"
"...and now death takes 'us' away from you...into a strange land....separating us one last time...."
And with that she ran a hand over her belly, letting Theonbyre know of the gift of life which was cut so soon.
Théodenhold at last had managed to reach the two lovers. He fought gallantly and so did the few surviving Rohirrim. Bodies fell around them as Theonbyre mourned the death of beautiful Merowyn. Such was the dedication of his men that realising the truth about the 'squire' they fought even more fiercely.
Eventually the Easterlings grew tired, seeing their comrades dead they realized they had no chance of passing through their defences. Out of the ten thousand Easterlings, only three thousands survived and of the Rohirrim out of the four thousands only five remained...four:
Safa, Merodan, Wylfron and Théodenhold.
Not being able to bare the death of his one true love and not able to commit it himself, he asked his friend Théodenhold to spare him a life of misery, for -in his own words- "I lost my heart and gladness...what life can I have crippled like that...."
And so his friend, sworn to keep their secret safe, sworn to protect them both and sworn to serve them, not able to hold his first two oaths, he kept the third.
The men, led by Théodenhold took their bodies to Stangard. There by a hill of calm next to a tree they buried the two lovers. Forever together...
