Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13110804.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      The_Lord_of_the_Rings_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Éomer/Original_Female_Character
  Character:
      Mildred_Milburgasdóttir, Éomer, Éowyn, Original_Characters, King_Theoden,
      Théodred
  Additional Tags:
      Canon-Typical_Violence, Alternate_Universe, Self-Insert, Historical
      Inaccuracies, but_considering_this_isn’t_Medieval_Studies_1..., mostly
      based_on_the_movies, Pre-Canon, BAMF_Women, Consensual_Underage_Sex,
      They’re_both_minors_by_our_standards, warning:_horny_teenagers, give_it
      up_for_teenagers’_hormones
  Series:
      Part 1 of Spotted_Horse, Part 2 of Self_Inserts
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-22 Updated: 2018-03-12 Chapters: 5/? Words: 14951
****** Unbroken Horses ******
by worldtravellingfly
Summary
     Mildred is just trying to live her best life. Which means she wants
     Éomer in it. By her side. They'll need each other to survive the
     oncoming storm. (SI!as-a-Rohan-Shieldmaiden; mostly pre-movies.)
Notes
     No copyright infringement intended.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
-1-
"Mildred Milburgasdóttir! What in the name of Béma do you think you're doing?"
Hilda, a woman of some thirty-five summers, shouted, waving her fist
threateningly at a young woman.
Said young woman hastily separated from the equally young man she'd been caught
kissing in the usually abandoned corridor. (Usually being the more important
word here.)
The two could not have been older than fourteen, perhaps fifteen summers.
"And you! Éomer Éomundsson! Don't think I never notice who instigates these-
these highly unseemly displays at least half the time," Hilda continued in the
same strident tone, hurrying over to them like the aging battle-axe she was.
"This is enough. Beyond enough. Your father shall hear about this! And your
mother-brother as well, my Lord Éomer, mark my words!"
She reached for their ears, but only managed to grab their arms. Not
hesitating, or stopping to think, Hilda dragged the two miscreants before the
Lord of this household.
Éomer and Mildred exchanged a quick look, but neither showed any signs of
embarrassment at being caught in the act, so to speak, once again.
There were no red cheeks or wide eyes. Not even a tiny hint of remorse in
averted glances or fidgeting children. (Because that's what they were to
everyone, most especially to the woman who was manhandling them currently.)
Hilda's temper boiled over, or perhaps continued to boil over.
In any case, she kept muttering dire threats under her breath, most of them
centered around the male anatomy and the female idiocy at allowing this
improper behavior. Or even going so far as instigating it!
Mildred was biting her lips to keep from laughing out loud, not daring to tweak
Hilda's nose even further. The poor woman would explode and where would
Baldhelm and all the others be then?
Their mother could certainly not keep watch of seven children, soon to be
eight. She had the oversight of the halls, meaning she was not only busy
carrying as many children for her lord and husband as she could, but also
burdened with the responsibility of making sure that everything was in order.
That everyone had something to eat, to sleep on, and was contributing to the
running of the hall.
Mildred knew first hand how much work that was, and her only regret about this
entire situation was that her mother would be torn from her duties for the
impending scolding.
Éomer sent her a small, encouraging smile.
Meanwhile, Hilda glowered at the guards stationed in front of their commander's
door and they hastily jumped out of the way of the irate nurse.
Mildred suppressed a fond smile. Despite everything, she admired her former
minder.
Only Hilda would dare to barge in on their lord while he was working in his
study.
And people always wondered where Mildred got it from?
"My Lord Baldwig," Hilda curtsied dutifully, still somehow holding on to her
two charges.
"Hilda," the man sighed resignedly, "where did you catch them this time?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Mildred watched as Éomer stiffened up, the
metaphorical shutters coming down, covering his expression once again.
"In one of the old corridors," the nurse almost hissed, glaring darkly at the
two delinquents.
Lord Baldwig sighed. Heavily.
By now, everyone concerned was familiar with this game.
Hilda dragged either one or both of the teenagers before her lord and master,
who sighed and waited for his wife to be informed.
Once Lady Milburga knew about the situation, she'd appear as quickly as
possible, scold the children, most especially her daughter, and set them some
sort of punishment, which would be confirmed by Lord Baldwig.
Afterward, Lady Milburga would return to her duties as quickly as possible,
leaving the rest of them to their own devices.
In the meantime, Lord Baldwig would sigh a lot, but ultimately left the
decision-making to his wife, seeing as this supposedly fell under her purview.
Éomer would look as stoic as possible, complete his punishment without
complaining, and still spend as much time with Mildred as her parents allowed.
Mildred knew she'd be ordered to help out the healers, such as they were, with
the few injured and ailing who required some medicine or another. If the
infraction was deemed quite reprehensible, she'd end up also spending a lot of
time with her father-mother, who wasn't quite the gift to humanity she'd always
considered herself to be.
Then, Hilda would grumble that the lord and lady let them off much too easily
and vanish back to the nursery, where, no doubt, one or another of Mildred's
sizable brood of siblings required her help.
However, this time, things appeared to be different.
Hilda was still fuming, as usual, but there was a note of seriousness in her
voice when she added to her report: "Please forgive me, my Lord, but unless you
separate these two today, at least the Lady Mildred will soon be considered
unsuitable for marriage."
Éomer and Mildred exchanged a quick look.
This was new.
They'd both made sure never to go too far; to cross that line of no return.
Neither wanted to destroy the other's reputation and good name.
Apparently, somehow, they'd still managed it anyway. At least in Hilda's eyes.
Although, how exactly they'd come to this point remained unclear to Mildred.
Considering they'd both been just kissing - all hands had remained visible and
in innocuous enough places.
Well. Éomer's had been wrapped loosely around her waist and she'd had hers
around his neck, but still.
And maybe the kisses had grown a bit heated. Just a little bit, though.
Mildred sighed inwardly, hoping that her lips had lost some of the swelling.
Éomer's still seemed a bit red.
Before Lord Baldwig could say anything though, the door opened, revealing his
pregnant wife.
Lady Milburga took one look at the two teenager's lips, Hilda's dark
expression, her husband's frown, and sighed herself.
"Sit down, please," Lord Baldwig said, offering her his chair. (It was the most
comfortable one in the entire building.)
So, the lady of the house sat.
"They've finally gone too far?" Lady Milburga asked Hilda.
"Yes, m'lady."
"Oh, dear," the woman said, frowning slightly at her daughter. "Oh, dear."
"I shall inform Théoden King of the happenings here. His must be the last
word."
Husband and wife stared long and hard at each other.
"Do as you think is best, my Lord. But hear this: I believe it would be best
for all involved if Mildred and Lord Éomer were promised to each other, bound
by their own bond."
"They are still full young, my Lady!" Lord Baldwig protested, beginning to
pace, and ran a hand through his wavy blond hair.
He always swore that all the streaks of gray were due to Mildred and her
antics.
Lady Milburga shook her head, red hair swishing over her shoulders. "No, they
are no longer protected by their years, few though they may be, my lord
husband. Both of them have seen fourteen summers and received their first
blessing from the wise woman. Lord Éomer has had to start shaving more than two
moons passed and our daughter is growing into a beautiful young lady. No, they
must be promised to each other or one of them must leave."
Resounding silence filled the room.
Lord Baldwig's eyes roamed over their faces, down to their hands.
Because of the way Hilda was still holding on to them, their respective wrists
were exposed.
The blue horse galloping over Éomer's skin on his right hand matched the red
band with stylized horses around her left wrist. The one every girl received
after her first moon blood.
Mildred glared at Éomer when he made to step forward, to take all the blame on
his shoulders, no doubt. Probably offering to be sent back to Edoras as soon as
possible, too, while he was at it.
Not happening. Not on her watch.
"I shall leave then," she said calmly, stubbornly holding her head high. "Lord
Éomer must be taught what my Lord Father has to teach and I can learn my duties
from any Lady worth her salt residing in the Mark."
Lord Baldwig stopped pacing at her first words, staring at his oldest daughter
as if he'd never quite seen her before.
Hilda's shoulders relaxed a bit, and there was pride glinting in the woman's
eyes as she glanced at her former charge.
However, while Éomer's face had become even more unreadable, he was shaking his
head openly in denial. "Do not send your daughter away, please, my Lord and
Lady. If anyone, as the elder of us two, I should bear the brunt of the
responsibility and punishment."
Mildred suppressed another sigh and the urge to roll her eyes, wondering if
he'd ever let anyone take care of him.
Meanwhile, Lady Milburga sent her husband a telling look, some of the tension
leaving her form as well. One of her hands now cradled her distended belly,
where youmger sibling number six dwelled. For now.
Lord Baldwig sighed, as he was wont to do. Rubbing a hand over the bridge of
his nose, the man began pacing once more.
"I see," he muttered eventually, stopping in front of both children. "I've done
you a disservice, dearest one."
Mildred calmly met his eyes, one side of her mouth quirked up into a smile. "As
have I, Father."
He chuckled, despite the situation.
"Very well. I know how to proceed now. For the time being, Mildred, you're
confined to the nursery, your room, and wherever your lady mother or Hilda
happen to be. If they ask you to help out in the healing room, then you do so.
You're not allowed to leave their presence, unless another suitable chaperone
accompanies you wherever it is you wish to go. You are not allowed to be in my
squire's company without at least either Hilda, your lady mother, or my own
self being present as well. Do you understand?"
Mildred nodded. "Yes, Father. I understand."
"Good girl," Lord Baldwig praised - with a warm smile for his oldest daughter.
Then, he turned to the other guilty party. "Éomer, you are quick-witted and
fulfill your duties efficiently and competently, never once heard complaining.
You are well on your way to becoming a Rider of the Mark in your own right,
perhaps even a Marshal once a few more years pass. The other squires and even
my own sons trust you with their concerns and happily follow your leadership.
However, in this, I do not wish for any of them to follow your example. I hope
you understand that I must insist on you respecting this separation of the both
of you for the time being, although you may continue seeing and speaking to
each other in the Great Hall at mealtimes."
Éomer bowed his acquiescence. "Yes, my Lord, I understand."
"Now, I shall send a messenger to Théoden King with news of this latest
incident. Ultimately, he shall decide whether or not my proposal of a betrothal
between the two of you is to his liking or not. Prepare yourselves for both
outcomes."
Both teenagers nodded quietly.
"Very well. Hilda, please take Mildred with you to the nursery. Éomer, join the
grooms in the stables. I'm sure there's enough work to be found there to occupy
you for the rest of the day."
With that, they were dismissed.
 
~*~
 
Edoras, Meduseld, after breakfast
Théoden had barely finished eating and washing his hands when an exhausted
looking man was brought to him.
"My Lord, this man says he has an urgent message from Lord Baldwig, concerning
your nephew," Háma, one of his most trusted, explained.
Théoden motioned for the messenger to follow him, but told Háma: "Bring him
some water and something to eat to my study."
The man nodded, then vanished. Presumably to do as he was bid.
Théoden led the way to his private study, wondering why he wasn't stricken with
panic. Yet.
When he told the exhausted rider to sit in one of the few chairs, the man near
collapsed into it. "Many thanks, Sire."
Instead of replying, the king hastily broke the wax seal and read through the
missive his old childhood friend had penned in what looked like a great deal of
hurry under a calm veneer.
My King, my friend,
please do not be troubled by the urgency of this missive - your Éomer is alive
and well as I write this. His pride and his feelings might be bruised for the
moment, but I have full confidence in their complete recovery.
It has come to my attention that we have had our eye on the wrong daughter of
mine for his bride.
Hilda, my children's nurse, caught Éomer and my Mildred kissing in a secluded
hallway once again - I will not bore you with the details, but both Hilda and
my wife believe that soon Mildred's honor, at least, will be considered
compromised - if it is not already.
I believe that neither of the children had any intentions to cross that mark,
but it has happened.
Hilda brought them to me as soon as she found them, and it was deemed best for
the children to be separated unless they were betrothed to each other and made
to marry within a few years. Certainly younger than any of us expected.
Mildred already offered to leave if you wish it, so that Éomer can continue his
apprenticeship under me. She tries to protect him, hoping to spare him some of
the blame and embarrassment of being sent away with this hanging over their
heads.
I believe it would hurt both of them deeply to be separated at this point,
though it must be done - one way or another.
If for no other reason than to make sure there will not be serious consequences
from their close bond.
How do you wish for me to proceed?
Your servant,
Baldwig Baldorsson
Théoden read and reread the letter several times, unsure if he should, nay,
could believe its contents.
Éomer, his stoic, reserved sister-son, that Éomer - toying with the affections
of a young girl? Being caught kissing her in so inappropriate a manner that her
family nearly considered her honor compromised? Éomer?
Théoden still remembered when his sister-children arrived in Meduseld, after
the death of their parents.
Éowyn, all of five summers, had been crying and fighting out her grief.
For a time, she had been the most obnoxious, trying person he had ever known -
and he spent the chief of his hours dealing with trade agreements and
counselors.
Théoden lost count of the times he'd been informed that his sister-daughter had
gotten into yet another fist fight with one of the other children in Edoras, or
that she'd returned with bruises and injured knuckles.
She reminded him a lot of his sister's husband - if Théoden were honest with
himself.
However, Éomer had been a completely different foal.
Certainly, he'd gotten into the odd scuffle or two, but usually so as to get
his sister out of them.
He'd refused to cry or show much of any emotion. Unless it was affection for
both Éowyn and Théodred, or, eventually, the horse he'd been gifted with.
The control the boy had over his temper was a thing for the legends, in
Théoden's not so humble opinion. He knew that his sister-son came by it
honestly, that fire.
No, Éomer had preferred to listen quietly to the people around him, rather than
boast about his own exploits, youthful though they may have been. He'd never
shown off his blessings, never boasted to anyone of the extraordinary number he
had already collected before even starting his fostering properly.
He'd always scrupulously adhered to every single rule imposed upon him. It went
so far that his teachers asked for an audience to inquire whether Théoden
thrashed him for every single infraction.
(He did not.)
And now this.
Théoden knew that Éomer never did anything without thinking it through to all
possible ends, as he saw them.
If his sister-son had gotten caught kissing a girl in such a manner, he would
have thought through all the consequences before acting. Even under the strain
of the …excitement the discovery of maidens could evoke.
Éomer would not have kissed the girl in the first place without there being
some sort of deep feeling beforehand.
Startled, Théoden reread the missive carefully one last time, allowing his
thoughts to run their course.
He knew how to act.
 
~*~
 
"Take this letter and deliver it to your lord's hand," Théoden ordered the
messenger the following morning, handing over a sealed letter.
The man had rested for the rest of the previous day and had been fed well. His
horse had also been well taken care of, thus ensuring a swift return to the
lands of Lord Baldwig.
Théoden was already looking forward to his old friend's reply.
The king watched the messenger ride off before the majority of Edoras had their
breakfast, grinning under his beard.
Éowyn joined him, slipping her small hand into his much bigger, rougher one.
"Mother-brother, what happened to Éomer? I heard that a messenger came with
news."
Théoden turned his amused face to his sister-daughter.
"Oh, our Éomer is only learning what it means to be a young man," he replied,
still grinning. "Don't worry too much for him. He's quite the happy lad from
what I've heard."
Éowyn cocked her head, sending him a questioning glance.
Théoden chuckled. "You will understand when you're grown enough to receive your
own blessings."
***** 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Feels.
Chapter Notes
     No copyright infringement intended.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
-2-
Several days later
Mildred looked up from where she'd been helping Baldwyn with her sampler. For a
girl of seven summers, her stitches were remarkably fine.
Hilda nodded for the boy to come forward.
He bowed, then announced solemnly: "Lord Baldwig requires your presence in his
study, Lady Mildred."
"Thank you," with that she dismissed the boy.
"I shall escort you," Hilda said, before Mildred could even ask.
She motioned for one of the maids to come closer. "Watch the boys. Lady Baldwyn
will continue with the task her sister set for her. We shan't be long."
Mildred squeezed her little sister's hand subtly, hoping to give her some
reassurance even though she felt none herself at the moment.
However, she wanted to finally know her fate - whatever it may be.
Baldwyn's lips wobbled suspiciously as Hilda nodded to show she was ready to
leave.
"I shall be right back, little filly. Don't worry overmuch now."
Her sister nodded, hastily wiping away a stray tear. "Promise?"
"I promise."
Mildred hugged Baldwyn gently, smiling at the young girl.
But as soon as the door to the nursery closed behind them, she frowned lightly.
Hilda gave her a soft smile, full of approval. "Come now, my Lady. Your lord
father is awaiting your arrival."
Mildred nodded, straightening her dress, and followed the nurse through the
corridors to her father's study.
This time, Hilda didn't frighten the guards into submission, but rather allowed
one of them to knock.
As they were bid to come in, Hilda squeezed her hand in a similar manner as,
only moments before, she had done to her sister. "Good luck, my dear girl."
Again, Mildred nodded, closing her eyes for a heartbeat. Then she opened them,
straightened her entire posture, and walked into the study as if she owned it.
There was no need to be afraid after all - the decision had been made. Now, she
only needed to figure out how to live with whatever the outcome might be.
Lord Baldwig stood behind his desk, smiling fondly and bowing his head a little
to acknowledge her entrance.
"Dearest," her father said warmly.
He offered her his open arms - an invitation she happily accepted.
Mildred closed her eyes, cheek pressed against the embroidered velvet of his
tunic. She breathed in the unmistakable scent of her father: a mixture of
leather, a whiff of horse, and the herbal soap he preferred to use.
His beard scratched her forehead a bit as he pressed a kiss on the skin there.
"My very own, little firebrand. Do you know, I was the first person who held
you when you arrived in the world? You were so small you fit into the palms of
my hands."
She could hear the fondness in his voice, the fierce pride.
"Unlike all of your siblings, you were so quiet," his voice hitched a little,
"we thought you did not have the strength to survive the coming weeks. It was a
hard winter. But, by Béma, you had us all fooled. I can still well recall how
my ears were ringing as you shared your displeasure with the world! How dare we
evict you from that comfortable home, under your mother's heart?"
The fondness increased, but gained a wistful edge.
"Sometimes, when I look at you, I wonder where the time has gone."
Mildred grinned a bit wobbly, deeply touched by this rare display of his softer
feelings. "I love you too, Father," she muttered into the tunic, tightening her
own hold on him a bit in emphasis.
"What shall I ever do without my little firebrand underfoot? I had always
thought that our parting shall come when you are much older, to one of my
éored," he admitted softly. "A man who lived close enough for regular visits."
"Oh, Father..."
He pressed another kiss to her forehead. "I should have known that you would
make your own choice. You always knew your own mind best and never were you shy
to share those decisions with us others."
He sighed. "Théoden King writes to invite you to the Golden Hall in order to
become an apprentice to the Lady Cwendar. She has led the king's household in
the absence of the queen and would show you your duties as the wife of the
king's sister-son."
Mildred closed her eyes, feeling her shoulders loosen as the tension bled out
of them. "So I shall be tested."
Her father chuckled. "Had you any doubt in that?"
She looked him straight in the eyes. "Never. Éomer loves and respects his
mother-brother too much for him to be indifferent to him or his sister. No, I
always knew I would be tested."
"I have no doubt that you shall be glorious, dearest. I am afraid, I have
bragged much to others about my most capable daughter. So much," he added with
a hint of mischief in his voice, "that those others may doubt the truth of my
words."
Mildred snorted at that. "Let them doubt. I shall do my best and leave them to
their thoughts. To them, I have nothing to prove."
Her father laughed, his entire body shaking with amusement. "For you already
hold the affections of Lord Éomer?"
"Naturally. I don't require anyone's approval, not even his."
"I'm glad, dearest, for that. If he had been toying with you or coerced you
into anything against your will, I'm afraid I would have waged war against an
old friend."
He said it so casually, as if commenting on the weather or whether it was
better to use a sword or spear for a specific task.
Mildred sucked in a breath. "Father!"
"I know it should not be so, but you are dearest to my heart, little firebrand,
and for you, I would set aflame the Mark."
"Oh," was all Mildred could come up with. She had always known he loved her,
sometimes even better than any of the others, but this?
Nothing quite showed how deep his love for her ran - not like casual mention of
high treason and war, apparently.
Her father gently pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. "I shall miss
you by my side at meals."
As much as she appreciated the sentiment, maybe she could help both him and her
favorite little sister out.
"May I suggest a replacement, Father?"
His eyebrows raised a little, but he nodded anyway.
"Baldwyn. She will miss me most of all the young ones. I believe it's time to
start her Shieldmaiden training. She is old enough for the bow, at least."
A smile grew slowly on his face. "Very well, dearest. Although I shall miss
you, I shan't be the only one."
There was a knock on the door.
"Enter, Éomer," Lord Baldwig called out, voice warm, as he stepped away from
her.
Mildred observed the blond who she was promised to now.
Éomer stood with his back straight, face shuttered from those who didn't know
where to look. But his eyes were switching back and forth between her father
and her, no doubt taking in the way her father was smiling.
"I shall leave you to explain and say your goodbyes, dearest. Remember that I'm
only a door away if you feel the need to scream."
With that, Lord Baldwig left them alone in his study. His sanctuary.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Mildred attacked Éomer in a near-flying
tackle hug.
He barely had the time to brace himself, but once she had wrapped her arms
around him, he pulled her tight against himself.
She would miss this most of all, although the kisses were really quite pleasant
as well.
"The King asked that I apprentice to Lady Cwendar, to learn all I can from her
for my future duties," Mildred said, voice muffled by yet another tunic.
This one smelled like polish, horse, and honey soap. The one she'd gifted him
with for his birthday.
A near silent sigh escaped him as he shuddered with relief.
Éomer breathed in the scent of her hair.
Mildred smiled a bit. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."
He laughed. "I would never dare to dream of it."
They grinned stupidly at each other for a long moment.
"So, you and I shall wed?"
Knowing he needed to hear it confirmed out loud, that he didn't doubt her
words, Mildred smiled. "Yes."
One of her hands was stroking his cheek, letting him order his thoughts.
Allowing the news to sink in properly.
Éomer closed his eyes under her ministrations, a slow smile growing on his
face.
"Do you know when?"
"I imagine when you have completed your apprenticeship and earned the right to
call yourself a Rider of the Mark."
He nodded, pressing his lips on her forehead.
There was no itchiness or scratching this time.
"I shall miss you while you are gone," he told her softly, eyes boring into
hers.
"I shall miss you too."
They basked in their embrace for a moment.
"Promise me that you won't fall irrevocably in love with some minstrel in
Edoras?"
Laughing, Mildred stood on her tiptoes and proceeded to steal his breath.
"As long as you won't fall in love with Baldwyn."
Éomer grimaced at the mere idea, so Mildred deemed it safe to leave the two of
them alone with each other.
"I'm afraid that you've already taken my heart. Until you no longer wish to own
it, I'm not free to give it away."
"Then I shall guard it like a dragon," she promised, adding: "as long as you
wish it, you may have my own heart."
"No one shall do it harm."
He swore it like a solemn oath.
Mildred knew he would do his best to keep his word. She also knew that
sometimes life didn't bow to one's plans.
"Will you write to me?"
"As long as you reply."
"As quickly as my duties allow."
Éomer tugged her into his lap, seating the both of them in her father's chair.
Mildred hastily swallowed the involuntary shriek. Her heart was galloping away
in her chest, but she couldn't stop the grin that stole over her face when she
saw the mischief lurking in his eyes.
"I love you, you know," she whispered, leaning down so their mouths were nearly
touching.
"I love you too."
After that, they didn't speak much more.
~*~
Within days, everything was readied for Mildred's departure. Her trunks packed
with enough dresses to tide her over until she either outgrew them or could
have the remaining ones sent to Edoras.
She snuck a few books in as well, all of which were written in Westron. All of
them gifts from her father.
Mildred looked over her small chamber, now bare. She smiled as the door opened
and her sister poked her head inside.
"Come, Baldwyn."
She closed the door behind her, jumping onto the bed next to Mildred.
"I wanted to give you something, so you'll remember me while you're gone,"
Baldwyn told her, offering her a neatly folded cloth.
"Thank you, sweetheart. How could I ever forget one as kind as you, sister?"
Curious, Mildred unfolded the cloth. It contained a beautifully embroidered
page marker, dyed a deep green. In all four corners, a differently colored
horse reared up, showing off its mane proudly. There were flowers as well, and
in the middle, pride of place, were Éomer's and Mildred's initials, entwined.
It was superb work.
As Mildred told her sister so, Baldwyn blushed beet-red, hiding her face from
sight as best she could.
"Oh, dear heart. Thank you! I shall treasure it always."
She embraced her little sister, mildly surprised by just how much she would
miss her while she was gone.
Baldwyn nodded, burying her face in Mildred's side. "I don't want you to go,
but I know that you shan't be able to marry Éomer unless you do. So I won't ask
you to stay, not like Baldhelm and the other boys."
"Oh, Baldwyn. You can always write to me and if it's urgent, you can go to
Éomer or Father. They will help where they can."
"They're not you."
Mildred shook her head, grinning. There was no arguing with that logic. "Show
them how much you can shine, sweetheart. And kick Baldhelm's shin a time or two
from me."
Baldwyn nodded seriously, but mischief sparkled in her eyes.
~*~
The following morning, Mildred sighed when her door opened once more.
This time, instead of a younger sister, her mother joined her.
Lady Milburga gently took the comb from her daughter's hands, running it
through her red mane the way she used to do when Mildred had been much younger.
Then she braided the long hair into a solid string with practiced ease, her
tattooed hands working with their usual gentle efficiency, tying the end with a
piece of leather.
Their eyes met in the mirror and Mildred nodded at her.
She wondered what kind of color the latest tattoo around her mother’s wrist
would be; another blue one or green for a little sister.
"I know Hilda and I have taught you well."
"You did."
"Don't allow anyone to make you believe otherwise. Sometimes, even the best of
us are afraid of change."
Maybe Mildred would miss this woman who had given birth to her a little more
than she expected.
~*~
In the courtyard, everyone and their mother was waiting.
Hilda was keeping Mildred's brothers in check and occasionally wiped away a
stray tear. Possibly because she'd lose her best excuse to barge into the
Lord's study now.
Éomer led Sigerun, her mare, out of the stable, fully saddled and ready for the
journey.
Lord Baldwig stood next to his own stallion, a massive black warhorse.
Lady Milburga stepped forward, fussing with Mildred's cloak brooch, refastening
it.
"Béma bless you."
With that, she kissed her forehead and joined Hilda in the constant battle
against four little boys' excitement.
Mildred swung herself into her saddle, praising Sigerun softly for standing
still and being so patient.
Her eyes met those of her betrothed and they nodded to each other, but she
could see his love for her shining in the deep brown.
She smiled at him.
Then Éomer stepped back and let go of the reigns.
"Let us ride!" Lord Baldwig shouted over the din, leading the group out of the
gates.
Mildred gently pressed her heels against Sigerun's flanks, urging her forward.
She thought that she would like this adventure, seeing a bit more of their
world.
It had been a long time since she had had the opportunity to travel.
Over fourteen years, to be exact.
Chapter End Notes
     Happy Holidays and a good start into the new year!
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     No copyright infringement intended.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
-3-
===============================================================================
Seven days later
Mildred was burning with curiosity about the place where Éomer had lived before
becoming her father's apprentice.
She would meet the remains of his family: his sister, cousin, and mother-
brother. Who just so happened to also be the Lord of the Mark.
Over the course of the journey, they'd ridden at a comfortable pace for the
horses, yet still made good ground.
Meduseld was looming against the horizon, like a throne, built to watch over
the Mark.
Lord Baldwig stopped his stallion next to her, following her eyes to the
largest city in the country.
"That is Edoras," Mildred stated more than asked.
"Yes, dearest. This shall be your home for the coming years."
"Very well. Then I must inspect the place a bit closer."
Her father chuckled and urged his stallion on.
The rest of his Riders followed suit, their horses' hooves thundering over the
grass.
Their goal was in sight now, there was no need to keep holding back to conserve
their energy.
===============================================================================
A few hours later, Mildred watched as the gates to the city were opened and
shouts of welcome greeted them.
Lord Baldwig was riding a little ahead and to Mildred's left side.
The rest of his men formed a tighter ring around her, although she doubted that
that was due to (over-)protectiveness. Likely, the lack of space played a more
important role.
They came to a stop in front of a beautifully built longhouse, with a thatched
roof and exposed, carved wooden reliefs depicting battle scenes.
Mildred got an idea as to why people called it the Golden Hall.
She carefully heaved herself out of the saddle, a little stiff from riding for
days on end.
Stablehands took their horses, to be rubbed down and fed, while they enjoyed
the King's hospitality.
Others unloaded the pack horses, carrying off their possessions to be unpacked
in their rooms.
Her father offered her his arm, smiling a bit wistfully under his beard.
"Shall we?"
Mildred nodded. "Let's."
===============================================================================
Lord Baldwig led her to the throne room, which was also the Great Hall,
controlling his expression again.
They drew stares as they walked, but Mildred was a bit too nervous to care
overmuch.
Her father squeezed her hand discreetly, trying to encourage her no doubt.
Then they were greeted by an impressive giant of a man Lord Baldwig called
"Háma" and their presence announced to the King and the other people inside of
the large, luxuriously decorated room.
Mildred couldn't spend as much time studying the gilded tapestries and carvings
as she wished to, however, since she was to meet the king and not his
decorator. If there even existed such a person.
Her father led her forward, nodding to the occasional man as they passed, and
came to a halt before a man a few years older than he himself was.
Théoden King had light-blond, almost white hair, a beard a few shades darker,
and carried the burden of his years graciously enough.
What was visible of the skin beneath his tunic shone blue, green, and red,
although she was too far away to recognize any of the symbols properly.
Their eyes met, each studying the other with much curiosity.
===============================================================================
Théoden had thought he'd see many more years pass before he was to so much as
entertain thoughts of meeting a female who was to join his household by
marrying either his sister-son or his own son.
Éomer, in his usual way, had proven to have his own mind and ideas as to plans
made involving him - without his personal input.
No matter, though.
Théoden only wished for his sister-son to find happiness, and if this Lady
Mildred was to be it, he would gladly welcome her under his roof.
In any case, it would be nice to have a female of his family leading the
household once more. Unfortunately, Éowyn was yet full young to begin her own
formal training.
However, Lady Mildred had only seen four years more than his sister-daughter.
Would she prove as capable as her father liked to boast when given the
slightest opportunity?
It was blatantly obvious to Théoden that his old friend had a favorite among
his sizable, ever growing brood. That favorite, to many of his fellow men's
surprise, was not his firstborn and heir.
As Háma announced their arrival to the Hall, Théoden attempted to prepare
himself for the maiden who had won his sister-son's favor.
Would she be more child than woman? Would she be comely or homely? (If he were
honest, he expected more the former than the latter.) Would she be shy or
capricious?
Despite everything he had heard about the lady in question, nothing could have
truly prepared him for the young woman gliding toward him on her father's arm.
Her hair glowed like embers of a hot fire, despite the dust of the road,
straining to escape the confines of her heavy braid.
Her deep blue eyes were flickering over her surroundings discreetly, taking
everything in and dismissing the irrelevant information almost as quickly.
She was tall for her fourteen summers, head reaching to her father's shoulder -
and Baldwig had always been of a stately height.
There was a smattering of freckles on her pale cheeks, though they did not
detract from her beauty in any way.
Oh, yes, Théoden could see how any boy, Éomer included, could find himself
fascinated by one such as her.
Baldwig halted, bowing and doing his duty to protocol.
Théoden, as King, did so as well, although the chief of his attention remained
on the fiery beauty by his friend's side.
Finally, it came: "May I introduce my oldest daughter, Lady Mildred?"
She curtsied deeply, as befitting of her station and his, but she was not
quaking in her boots or quivering in fear under the heavy stares boring their
way into her flesh.
No, she would not be his friend's daughter, never mind his favorite, if she was
that easily intimidated.
"Welcome to Edoras and the Golden Hall, Lady Mildred. How did you find the
roads?"
One side of her lips quirked up a minimal measure, clever eyes watching his
every move from underneath her red fringe.
"Thank you for your kind hospitality, Sire. The journey hither passed with much
wonder for the beautiful landscape and thus I noticed little of the usual
discomforts one must suffer when one travels, though few they were. We met no
wolves nor any other creatures of the night, so I count myself content with my
adventure."
Théoden nearly chuckled out loud. The fiery appearance apparently came with the
same temperament.
"Perhaps you would like to refresh and rest from the little discomforts you
endured? Rooms have been prepared for every one as your arrival was expected."
"That would be much agreeable, Sire," Baldwig assured him, eyes twinkling. "I
fear that I am no longer young enough to be able to ignore the minor discomfort
of traveling as easily as my daughter."
Théoden motioned for Lady Cwendar to step forward.
"Lady Cwendar, please allow me the pleasure of introducing your newest
apprentice, Lady Mildred Milburgasdóttir."
The two females curtsied to each other, both taking the other's measure within
a heartbeat or two.
"Lady Cwendar, please show our guests to their rooms," Théoden asked, hiding
the amusement he was awash with from his voice.
Éowyn would either love this Lady Mildred her brother so liked or they would
clash spectacularly.
Théoden could hardly wait to discover which road their relationship would take.
===============================================================================
Mildred followed after the woman she'd just been introduced to.
Lady Cwendar embodied everything a noblewoman of the Mark should be: from her
blonde hair to the light-blue eyes, which contrasted nicely against the red sun
tattooed on her forehead.
She carried herself with an understated elegance and regality, to a degree
which Mildred had not even seen her mother manage - not even when she was
unencumbered by a future sibling growing within her.
They halted in front of an oaken door, the lady opening it for her to enter
through.
"This is to be your chamber, Mildred. The servants shall unpack your trunks
later, for now a bath has been prepared for your enjoyment. Would you like to
eat a bite before resting?"
Mildred barely listened, too busy inspecting her new room.
It was good-sized, certainly bigger than the one she'd inhabited back in her
father's hall. An oaken bed dominated the room, decorated with deep green,
embroidered hangings.
The matching green curtains had been left open, allowing the sunshine inside
the room.
There was a merry fire in the hearth, next to which stood a steaming wooden
tub.
Her trunks were pushed to one side of the room, to be sorted through by her and
a maid or two later on. A dress, one of the more formal ones in her possession,
was laid out on the bed for dinner, or so Mildred assumed.
Recalling that she wasn't alone in the room and behaving like the country
bumpkin everyone must think her to be, Mildred shook herself - figuratively -
and thought about the question for a moment.
"I would much appreciate something to drink - some juice or water perhaps?"
Lady Cwendar nodded, a small, approving smile flickering over her face.
===============================================================================
Five days after their arrival, Mildred found herself standing before her
travel-ready father.
He smiled gently down at her. "Be good for the Lady Cwendar now, dearest," he
bid her, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder.
"I shall, Father."
"You will see, the time shall fly by and when you blink next, we will celebrate
your wedding."
Mildred could feel a tear escape, despite her control. "Would you give him a
letter from me?"
Her father nodded once, squeezing her shoulder again.
Before he could change his mind, Mildred slipped him a small, sealed letter,
tied off with a silken, green bow.
Which, to her father's eye, looked suspiciously like her favorite hair tie.
"Know this, dearest: you will always have a home, no matter where your heart
may take you."
Throwing caution and elegance to the wind, Mildred threw her arms around him.
After a moment's hesitation, her father wrapped his own arms around her.
"I love you, Father. Please take care."
"For you, I shall always do so."
Mildred watched them ride off long after the gates closed behind them.
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited!
     I was a bit sick recently, thus the wait.
     Hope you enjoyed!
***** The Naughty Bits *****
Chapter Notes
     No copyright infringement intended.
     Also, this is the uncensored version. Meaning if you don’t like some
     light smut, then please read the version on FFnet (I’ll post in a few
     minutes).
See the end of the chapter for more notes
-4-
Her father had been right. Time did seem to fly by, only halted by the odd
incident that broke through the daily routine.
~*~
There was the time she was asked to prepare an entire feast by herself, with
only a single day’s warning.
Mildred nearly dissolved into tears the first time she heard she wasn't allowed
to ask anyone for help. How was she supposed to know what a royal feast
required?
She'd only been to one in her entire life. The one in her own honor, when she
had arrived.
In the end, she hardly slept, managed to forget nothing important by some
stroke of luck, and learned the hard way to accept both criticism and praise
from all sorts of people.
One must understand that Mildred was keenly aware that she didn't have many
admirers at court, despite her old, noble blood and her father's close ties to
Théoden King.
Having to stand next to Lady Cwendar, a distant relative of the king, for what
felt like an eternity, with her back straight and a smile attached to her face
while middle-aged men told her pompously that she'd done "well - for such a
young filly from the country" - well. It was tantamount to torture.
A special kind of torture.
But, in the end, Mildred learned not to take her own insecurities too seriously
when they were repeated aloud by strangers.
~*~
Of course, then there was Éowyn.
At first, the young girl enjoyed having another female closer to her age living
in the Golden Hall.
She liked talking to her at mealtimes, as far as she was allowed to attend the
more formal ones at the same table as Mildred, and they spoke often of their
respective Shieldmaiden training.
Their age difference was enough for them to go hours upon hours without seeing
the other. Or not sharing the same interests, outside of weapons training and
Éomer.
The latter topic proved especially explosive, once Éowyn found out that Mildred
was to pledge her troth to her brother.
From one day to the next, Éowyn became ice cold and painfully correct in her
manners towards Mildred, only seeking her out for the occasional spar.
Most likely because no one else treated her like an actual opponent when she
was holding a weapon in her hand.
Mildred contained her sighs at this change in behavior, realizing that Éowyn
was afraid of losing her brother to what essentially amounted to a stranger.
Afraid of having to compete with her for Éomer's affection and attention.
Perhaps it would have never gone as far as it did if there was someone
consistently giving Éowyn honest, unconditional attention and affection - other
than her brother.
Things probably would have continued in this vein if there hadn't been
Théodred's best friend, Erkenbrand.
~*~
Mildred sighed as she closed the heavy, leather-bound ledger. That had been her
last chore for the day, as assigned by Lady Cwendar.
She disliked going over the household ledger with the passion of a thousand
fiery suns.
There were no calculators, no Excel sheets to help keep track of everything.
Everything had to be done by hand and in mind. There was no room for error
because parchment was expensive even at the best of times.
Béma protect her should Lady Cwendar discover a mistake!
Mildred locked everything away again, in its proper place. She would be lynched
if something had been misplaced or, worse, gotten lost in one manner or
another.
As she walked down the corridors to her chambers, she stretched, popping her
spine. Thankfully, no one saw her do so.
Mildred considered her books - all of which she'd read too many times to count
- and then her eyes fell on her bow.
Deciding it had been too long since she had gotten to use it, Mildred secured
her quiver and slung her bow over her back.
As she walked to the archery range, she secured her vambraces.
Mildred shielded her eyes as she stepped outside of the Golden Hall, not having
expected the sun to shine quite so brightly.
"...no place for a little filly like you!"
The taunting tone drew her attention to a small altercation halfway to the
archery range.
Erkenbrand and a fidgeting Théodred stood opposite from a fuming Éowyn.
"Women can fight too!" Said blonde protested, face red with anger. And did she
just stomp her right foot?
Mildred sighed inwardly, but decided to help Éowyn out. At least to even the
numbers.
Unfortunately, Erkenbrand had recently started growing his first fuzz and
thought he was the authority on all things weaponry and manliness ever since
he'd received his first blessing.
Even more unfortunately, he still hadn't managed to figure out that attacking a
child - even if Éowyn protested this appellation, it would remain true until
she received her own moon blessing - would result in harsher punishment than
before he'd received that horse on his wrist.
"Battle is no place for a woman, much less a weak little girl like you! You
should stay home and finally learn to behave like a lady. But you can't go
home, can you?"
Alright, that's enough!
Within two long strides, Mildred had crossed the space between herself and
Erkenbrand, swung back her fist, and drilled it into his stomach. Hard.
She had her fists stemmed into her hips, glaring death at the downed teenager.
"So, we 'young fillies' are weak, eh? Did that feel like a feather to you,
Erkenbrand?" Mildred almost hissed in her anger. "If I hear you taunt anyone
else about their home or family ever again, that hit will feel like a gentle
tap in comparison. Do you understand?"
Erkenbrand hastily got back on his feet, pale as a sheet. One hand remained
pressed to his stomach, and he was staring at her with wide eyes.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes, my lady," he pressed out from behind his teeth.
"Good. Run along now. Éowyn and I have to sort out an archery competition I
intend to win."
~*~
Somehow, she managed to terrify the poor prince that day, because he avoided
her as much as possible whenever he could. Or started stuttering some sort of
excuse when she asked him a question.
Which, by Béma, did not happen often!
Although Mildred suspected that Éowyn's newfound friendship was the main reason
behind this strange turn of events more than anything she herself had done.
The girl followed her around as much as her teachers allowed, trying to imitate
the way Mildred dressed or wore her hair. She even went so far as to ask
whether her hair could be dyed the same color!
That startled Mildred enough to stop their sparring session and lead Éowyn to
her chambers.
"Sit down," she told her gently, pointing to her bed.
Éowyn sat. Gingerly.
"May I ask why you want to be as much like me as possible? For, while
flattering, it is worrying me to what extent you are feeling this way."
Defiant blue eyes, so unlike her brother's, met Mildred's own as Éowyn jumped
up, pacing the room.
"You are strong. Even Erkenbrand respects you! You are beautiful and lady-like
and yet you can still best me at spars or with a bow. Lady Cwendar praises your
achievements to the King and that woman does not hand out praise lightly -"
Mildred pulled the younger blonde into a tight embrace.
"Oh, Éowyn. I'm sorry if anyone gave you the impression that it would be better
for you to be me. You, dear heart, are as you should be."
They stood like that for a long moment.
Then Mildred winked down at the sniffing child who was to become her sister
within a few years' time.
"If you ever see my parents, ask them what I was like when a small filly of a
girl. I'm sure they would easily recall a mud-splattered, shrieking beast who
loved to wrestle with her older brother whenever possible. Hilda, my old nurse,
despaired over me ever growing into a young lady of any worth, for I snuck out
of the nursery whenever it suited me."
Éowyn's eyes had grown wide, her mouth dropped open a little.
"But, but - Mildred, you are such a fine lady!"
In lieu of saying anything right away, Mildred sat on the bed once again,
petting the spot next to her.
"Well, I like to think that others believe so. However, did you ever hear why I
was sent here?"
One blonde head shook, although its owner snuggled readily enough against her.
Mildred grinned. "Hilda caught your brother and me in a rather unseemly
position in an abandoned corridor. Nothing truly inappropriate was happening -
your brother is too honorable for that - but we were seen kissing each other."
Éowyn gasped, too sheltered to have ever heard of such a thing before.
"It was decided that we needed to be separated, no matter what the King might
decide. Naturally, your brother tried to take the fall for a decision we both
made," here Mildred shook her head, rolling her eyes.
"You sacrificed yourself?" Éowyn sounded part scandalized, part awed.
"As if learning from Lady Cwendar and earning your friendship is a sacrifice,"
Mildred protested, amusement clear in her voice. "But, yes, I suppose, leaving
was my choice. Éomer was sent to be apprenticed to Father for good reason after
all. In the grand scheme of things, I considered myself less important than
your brother's studies."
Mildred gently combed he fingers through Éowyn's hair, waiting for the younger
girl to think about what she'd been told.
"Don't you miss your family?"
"Sometimes," she readily admitted. "I have quite a number of younger brothers,
but only one sister. Baldwyn is a few years my junior and she is shy. Easily
hurt, sometimes, and also easily forgotten among our boisterous herd of
brothers. Baldwine and I, my older brother that is, we were the only ones who
paid her any attention worth mentioning. I'm afraid that she is quite lonely,
for she does not have the same close friendship with any sibling that you and I
may enjoy with our elder brothers."
Éowyn's lips turned downward as a frown appeared on her face.
"Boys are stupid."
That earned her a laugh from Mildred.
"Well, some exceptions must be made, but yes. Now, do you see that no one is
perfect and it is quite alright for you to be yourself?"
Éowyn nodded, mischief sparkling back to life within her eyes.
"Good."
~*~
After that, Éowyn returned to being her unruly self, much to the dismay of her
tutors. However, she eventually conceded to learning the arts necessary for
ladies of worth to know.
It helped that Mildred showed her how to kill an unwanted suitor (read:
stalker) with an embroidery needle stabbed into strategic places.
Time flew by again, until Lady Cwendar found her one morning in late fall.
~*~
Mildred looked up from the shirt she was sewing, to be given to one of the
poor.
Lady Cwendar settled herself into a chair opposite from Mildred, looking as
harrowed as she ever allowed herself to look.
"Théoden King has just shared with me that Lords Éomer and Baldwig are expected
in two days, unless some obstacle holds them up. We are to organize a feast in
honor of Lord Éomer's return."
Mildred sat up straight, trying to somehow manage the stream of excitement
flooding her veins. "Lord Éomer is returning?"
That earned her a fond look from Lady Cwendar.
"Alongside your father, yes."
Mildred tried to not bounce up and down in her chair. "I shall do my best to
help, Lady Cwendar."
"Very good. I shall speak to Cook and arrange the food. Would you be so kind to
take care that we have enough ale and wine for the feast? After that you might
take Lady Éowyn and oversee the cleaning of the Great Hall."
Mildred just nodded along, distracted by her thoughts flying from the feast to
finally seeing Éomer again back to the feast and so on.
The teen returned to the present when Lady Cwendar exclaimed over the state of
her wardrobe: "Sweet Béma! Child, you've surely outgrown your good gowns once
again! Speak to the seamstresses and order a new one for the feast - the old
ones would be most unseemly."
Blushing, Mildred nodded. "Yes, my Lady."
~*~
Predictably, Éowyn was over the moon at the prospect of getting to see her
brother again, although she couldn't resist teasing Mildred a bit when the
older girl almost forgot to order the tapestries cleaned.
But none of the servants took offense; most of the older ones couldn't hide
their indulgent smiles quick enough.
The seamstresses just nodded knowingly when Mildred muttered something about
her old dresses being a bit too tight to be appropriate and promised to finish
her new concoction in time for the feast.
Mildred felt a bit bad about the sleepless nights the woman and her assistants
were likely going to suffer through just to fulfill that promise.
~*~
As soon as she heard the familiar commotion of horses arriving with their
riders, Mildred was off, running toward the entrance.
Just before she could be seen by anyone that counted, she forced herself to
slow down into a quick walk and straightened her hair and dress.
Hoping she looked somewhat presentable, despite having spent some time with
Cook in the kitchens, making sure that everything was right on track for the
commencement of the feast, she stepped forward.
Mildred's eyes flew over the freshly arrived and partly dismounting riders,
gifting her father with a quick smile when she found him, but she wasn't overly
interested in greeting him yet.
No, that honor went to another.
Only the hundreds of eyes watching her every move kept Mildred from running
over and hugging the stuffing out of her betrothed.
As she came to a stop in front of him, she noticed that he'd grown. Height-wise
and also his shoulders. His hips had narrowed, or so it seemed.
Éomer was watching her just as intently as she him, a flicker of uncertainty in
his gaze.
"Welcome home, my Lord," Mildred said, biting her lip in an attempt to control
the massive grin that wanted to break out on her face.
Something eased in him and Éomer's shoulders lowered slightly as the tension
left them.
"It's good to be home, my Lady."
Mildred beamed at him, knowing he had missed her just as much as she him.
~*~
Later, once everyone had rested and refreshed themselves, the feast commenced.
Mildred greeted her father with a fleeting hug and they were seated next to
each other at the head table, but she barely spoke a word to him.
To be honest, she was a bit distracted.
By Éomer.
He looked delicious. Under the road dust hid a nice tan and oh, sweet Béma, had
he always had those cheekbones? Or had he had some baby fat left to disguise it
the last time they'd seen each other?
His eyes were positively glowing in the dim light, following her more often
than not.
For the first time in her life, Mildred experienced a difficulty speaking in
company. She couldn't follow the conversations around her. Or sit still, for
that matter.
After the eating was done, the musicians began to play dancing music.
Of course, Erkenbrand asked her to stand up with him as soon as possible.
Mildred wasn't sure why the boy had decided to treat her like a queen after she
punched him, but he jumped at every chance to help her or compliment her or
dance with her.
Knowing it would be rude to decline, she allowed him to lead her to the dance
floor.
Éomer didn't look happy at all, although to most people the small frown on his
face didn't look like the outrage it represented.
At least that much hadn't changed - Mildred could still read his expression
like a book.
Their eyes met as Mildred was turned, glowing amber and bottomless midnight
blue.
Eventually, the dance ended and Erkenbrand politely brought her back to her
place at the table.
This time, Éomer was waiting for her, holding out his hand in a silent offer of
the next dance.
As they passed her father, both could hear his chuckles.
At least Lord Baldwig found something to be amused about. Or he was already
starting to get drunk.
Always a possibility with the way Eorlingas celebrated.
Béma! Mildred had missed dancing with Éomer.
They almost knew before the other moved where they'd go. Not always, of course.
There had been some truly spectacular mess ups where they'd almost crashed into
each other, but Mildred knew that she was safe in following Éomer's lead.
He wouldn't let anyone else try to 'trip' and break his fall against her. Most
often conveniently close to her butt. Or try to tease open the laces of her
bodice, to expose her in front of the court.
(Which had been attempted once. And only once.)
Instead, Éomer was careful with her.
Mildred couldn't help herself - the entire time they were dancing together, she
was beaming at him.
As the song ended, Éomer escorted her away from the table and their respective
guardian, to the city outside.
As soon as they were far enough away that the noise of celebration was
dampened, Éomer broke out into a run, toward the archery range.
Mildred didn't hesitate to follow suit.
They skidded to a halt in the far corner, out of breath and red-cheeked.
Mildred got her bearing back first and jumped into Éomer's arms, wrapping her
own around his neck and her legs around his waist.
"Sweet Béma, I missed you so much -"
She was interrupted by his lips.
Mildred closed her eyes, sighing a bit as the last bit of tension left her.
Éomer seemed to grin under her, nipping her lip and slipping his tongue into
her mouth. His hands buried themselves in her hair as best as they could,
considering the thick braid.
Mildred didn't even think of resisting, but she tightened her hold on him.
A few of her fingers tugged at his own hair tie, loosening it so his blond
locks fell into his face, sheltering them from curious onlookers.
They separated once the need for oxygen became too great.
Mildred slid down his body, grinning and biting her slightly swollen lip when
she noticed that their kissing had had a rather noticeable effect on him.
Éomer was panting a bit, like she herself, and leaned his forehead against her
own.
"Béma, Mildred!" He muttered, eyes closed.
They opened a moment later when she stroked a small scar she hadn't seen
before.
"It was a training accident," he explained readily enough. "You've grown."
To emphasize his meaning, he squeezed her breasts gently.
She slapped his arm lightly, playfully, and stole a quick kiss. "Says the right
one. If anyone has grown, especially recently, it's you."
A light blush covered those lick-worthy cheekbones.
"Don't you dare apologize! Now, where were we?"
Mildred didn't wait for him to reply, but stood on her toes and wrapped her
arms around his middle, eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"Because I don't know how you feel, but I missed this."
He sighed softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Béma, Mildred, I couldn't
stop thinking about you."
"Good."
With that, Mildred closed the distance between their mouths again and cheekily
nibbled on his lip. When a soft moan escaped him, it was her turn to ravish
him.
Éomer's eyes fluttered shut again, hands wandering to her bum and pulling her
flush against him by her buttocks.
Mildred gasped, grinding against him. She could feel her nipples rub against
the woolen chemise she was wearing under her dress, almost too sensitive for
the slight scratchiness.
"Mildred," Éomer rasped out, "do you want to stop?"
The redhead in question took a deep breath, allowing Éomer to put his arms
around her in a hug. A chaste hug.
"No, I don't. Do you?"
He shook his head. "Never. However, I do not wish to dishonor you either."
Well, she could work with that. "Éomer, haven't you ever taken care of yourself
before?"
The flushed cheeks made a reprise appearance. But he nodded.
"Would it be alright if I took care of you tonight?"
Even in the darkness, Mildred could tell that his pupils were blown wide enough
they almost swallowed his iris whole.
Éomer swallowed heavily, squeezing her a bit.
"Only if I may 'take care' of you tonight, fire."
"Well, you know," sharp inhale, "what they say," light gasp, "don't play with
fire," biting her tongue to keep in the moan, "you'll get burned," she said,
rather breathily, because his mouth was wandering further down her neck,
intermittently kissing and licking the sensitive skin there.
The husky noise he made, which ordinarily would have been a chuckle, sounded
downright indecent against her heated skin.
A tug and her hair fell free, near exploding outwards as her braid dissolved.
Éomer groaned low in his throat, hastily stifling the sound against her.
"I always wondered what it would look like when it was unbound," he admitted
softly, watching her eyes as he scraped his teeth lightly against her throat.
Light enough not to leave any permanent marks, because if they were
discovered...
Mildred tilted her head a little, trying to give him better access. "Did you
imagine it brushing against you? Tickling your skin as our bodies moved against
each other?"
Éomer moaned, panting against her neck as he tried to center himself.
"Sweet Béma, let me - please? I want, I need to take care of you first, or this
will be over in a heartbeat."
Mildred nodded, "Yes. Please."
He tugged at the laces on her back, just enough to loosen her bodice a little.
So he could get his hand in between the fabric and her.
One of his fingers more or less accidentally brushed against her hard nipple,
earning him a soft gasp.
"Did you like that?"
"Yesssss," she hissed the last part, because this time his fingers twisted her
nipple gently, on purpose.
Éomer tugged down her chemise and the bodice, exposing most of one breast to
the night air.
Before Mildred could figure out what exactly he was planning, he had leaned
down and pressed his lips against the hard nub.
Her head rolled back, a low groan escaping from clenched teeth.
She could feel his smile against her sensitive skin, then he took her nipple
into his mouth. Tongue licking around it, lips wrapping around it.
Mildred buried her fingers in his hair, holding on for what promised to be a
wild ride. Belatedly, she remembered that they needed to be quiet or they'd be
heard and found out.
One of his hands began to gently massage her still clothed breast, thumb
brushing over her second nipple extra slow.
The other hand wandered down, hitching the long skirts as they reached her
hips.
Be quiet, be quiet, you need to be quiet, she reminded herself again and again.
It felt like she'd surely bite through her bottom lip soon, drawing blood.
"I like that your freckles are spread over your body," he whispered, burning
brown eyes meeting her own. "I wonder if they go all the way down?"
With that he scooped her up in his arms with only minor effort and deposited
her gently on one of the extra straw bales.
Mildred shifted, trying to get used to the straw through her woolen chemise and
dress.
Éomer noticed and took off his tunic, offering it to her.
That made it a bit more comfortable.
Again, he carefully hitched her skirts up, hands caressing the new skin as if
they had all the time in the world.
Mildred held her torso upright by shifting her weight on her elbows, leaning
back, while she was being explored.
The sensation of cool air against her wet heat required some getting used to,
but Éomer didn't allow her that.
"What do you like best?"
Mildred hijacked his hand, running it through her wetness, and then showed him
how to manipulate her clit the way she liked best.
To be honest, penetration wasn't her thing, but this? This she could happily do
for hours.
Éomer seemed to agree, judging by the way his gleaming eyes were fixated on
what they were doing. He experimented with different amounts of pressure,
rubbing his calloused fingers over her clit.
Mildred had to bite one of her fists to keep quiet as the pleasure rose and
rose within her.
At some point, Éomer accidentally flicked her clit just a bit rougher than
previously and -
Game over.
Mildred let herself fall back against the straw, legs still spread open enough
to accommodate Éomer. She knew it was hopelessly indecent and incredibly
decadent and she wouldn't have missed it for anything.
Panting heavily, she sat up once enough of her strength had returned.
"Did you enjoy that?" Éomer had the gall to ask.
There was a hint of a smirk lingering around his mouth and Mildred decided then
and there to ruin him. Utterly.
"Very much. Now I'll have something to keep me warm at night until we're going
to see each other again."
He gasped for breath inaudibly.
Mildred untucked his shirt, tugging it out of his leggings, slipping her cool
fingers under the white fabric. Her hands weren't as calloused as his, but she
knew he still felt some ridges as they moved over the rippling muscles of his
abdomen, one around to slip into his leggings. The other up, to play with his
nipples.
A glimpse of red against mildly tan skin peaked out as her fingers went to
work.
"I'm going to imagine that your fingers are the ones slipping under my covers
when I'm alone, teasing my nipples until they're nice and hard."
She demonstrated how and he closed his eyes against the assault.
Only to open them straight back up, as she pressed a kiss a little to the left
of his treasure trail.
"My hair would be unbound, maybe I'll even be completely naked. After all, it's
just me and no one will see."
Éomer's breath hitched and then sped up, in shorter bursts.
Mildred tugged at the laces holding his leggings up, looking up to make sure
she was allowed.
He nodded quickly.
So she loosened the laces, carefully freeing him from his leathery prison.
His shoulders relaxed a bit, but only for a moment.
He was hot, straining against her hand.
"What do you like?"
Éomer closed his eyes again, trying to keep himself from coming before she had
even done anything to him worth mentioning. When he was back from the brink, he
spat into his hands and showed her.
Without hesitation, Mildred spat into her own hand, not even blinking, and
wrapped her fingers around him. Lubrication was important. Her thumb was
stroking the root, copying his earlier actions and experimenting with the
pressure as she moved toward the end.
Drops of a clear liquid pearled out of the slit, so she used it as additional
lubricant.
Meanwhile, Mildred's other hand moved lower, to search for his balls. They felt
a bit strange to her, but Éomer seemed to like the slow movement.
"Mil-Mildred," he managed to get out in a strangled tone, perhaps trying to
warn her, "use - tissue."
As soon as she had taken the cloth and wrapped it around his penis, he came
into her hand.
Éomer was already a handsome specimen of the male species on any old day, but
Mildred decided she liked him best with that punch-drunk happiness on his face
just after she made him come.
It was probably a very good thing they would be missed soon - if they weren't
already - and had to hastily get all their clothes back into order.
And to prevent any unwanted consequences, it was lucky that they had enough
sense not to completely consummate their relationship. And that Éomer's stay
was to be a short one.
The only one until summer, when they'd meet again.
 
Chapter End Notes
     Hope you enjoyed.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Summary
     Mildred did NOT sign up for this.
Chapter Notes
     Sorry for the long wait!
-5-
August, Home of Lord Baldwig and Lady Milburga
Théoden King had chosen Mildred's childhood home to host the biannual
tournament for all hopeful apprentices to try and prove that they were ready to
become Riders of the Mark in their own right.
Thankfully Lady Cwendar had agreed that Mildred had learned everything she
could from her and arranged for her to be escorted home by some Riders of her
husband's éored in early June. (After taking her to the most talented Wise
Woman of Edoras to get her right wrist decorated with the traditional band of
an accomplished noble lady’s blessing.)
Mildred arrived amidst the usual chaos of her family, the news that Baldwine
would arrive himself in a few weeks to participate in the tournament as well,
and a new little sister.
Lady Milburga had had a rougher time of it, giving birth, which meant she was
weaker than was normal for her, and couldn't stem the organization of the
tournament entirely by herself.
She had even trouble keeping the household running as smoothly as everyone
expected, not to mention that the wise woman still hadn't come to bless the
lady. (Which perhaps was the clearest sign that something was seriously wrong.)
Thus, Mildred's unlooked-for arrival came just at the right time.
                                      ~*~
Baldwyn ran and slammed into Mildred with enough force to almost knock her off
her feet.
"You're back! Oh, I missed you so much."
Mildred laughed, hugging her little sister back just as tightly. "I've missed
you too, my sweet one. You've grown so much since I last saw you!"
"And you look like a proper young lady now!"
"Oh, but appearances can be so deceiving," Mildred teased, winking at Baldwyn.
Who didn't seem to be capable of letting go quite yet.
Hilda snorted, uncaring how hypocritical that made numerous reprimands over the
last few years, and welcomed her as well.
"It's good to have you back, my Lady," the old nurse told her warmly.
Mildred could barely stop herself from hugging the woman.
Unfortunately, Hilda might have suffered a heart attack due to the undignified
behavior and how public she would've shown her affection for a servant.
Lord Baldwig insisted on receiving a hug of his own when she was announced at
his study.
Somehow, Baldwyn managed to join in, grinning cheekily at their father.
Mildred suppressed another bout of laughter; instead settling on putting her
right arm around her sister's shoulders.
"So, I'm here to help. Where can I start?"
"What? No questions regarding a certain blond apprentice of mine?" Lord Baldwig
teased, tugging one of the strands of red hair that had gotten loose during the
ride.
Mildred blinked innocently. "Why would I ask about Ordlac?"
Baldwyn laughed outright, despite the presence of their father.
It was obvious that the extra attention from at least one parental unit seemed
to have done her a world of good.
"Oh, it is good to have you back, my firebrand," Lord Baldwig smiled at his
oldest daughters. "And for your information, Éomer is out with a small scouting
party and will only return in a few days' time."
Mildred couldn't help the rise of mischief. Honestly.
Both Baldwyn and their father grew wary as they saw something in her
expression.
"Very well. Let me just wash up and change into something more appropriate for
home and then we can see what still needs to be done."
                                      ~*~
As it turned out, a lot yet needed doing, so even if Éomer had been present,
Mildred wouldn't have had the time to spare him a few moments every day.
Baldwyn had tried to take on what she could - mostly making sure the
decorations were pleasing and that there would be clean tapestries and
bedclothes.
With Mildred's experience, they quickly established a list of tasks that were
urgent, less urgent, or things that could be left for later.
Barely after breakfast the day following her arrival, she ordered what food
they still required, spoke to the housekeeper about cleaning all the guest
chambers, preparing them for their future royal occupants.
Despite her best efforts, the hall simply didn't have as many rooms as would be
required to house everyone, so Mildred asked her father to make sure there was
enough space to pitch tents for those who'd have to go without.
Cook and her assistants were busy preparing what they could, as was everyone
else.
A natural arena was set aside for the tournament.
The seating for the audience traditionally traveled to every host, so it had
been sent along with Mildred.
Carpenters from the village began to erect it.
Everywhere she looked, people were busy working their butts off to make the
Hall ready for the tournament.
She tried to keep control of everything, making sure that everyone was doing
their jobs and nothing was going awry.
Regardless, little problems cropped up along the way.
They had not enough candles. The good table linens had been eaten by moths and
required replacement. Their ale cellar was not nearly full enough for the
number of thirsty warriors expected.
On top of all that, Mildred expected guests to arrive early and told the
Housekeeper which guests were to be housed in the hall itself or would have to
sleep in tents for the following weeks.
She barely managed to eat three meals a day and slept less than four hours some
nights to catch up with her mother's original timetable.
Meanwhile Lady Milburga could not bear to leave her chambers, except for meals.
And even that required more strength from the quiet woman than it should.
So, Mildred sent one of the healers she trusted to look in on her mother and
put it out of her mind for the time being because one of the bed frames in the
lesser used guest chambers broke when the maids had attempted to move the
mattress off of it for cleaning.
Baldwyn was running around the hall like a Shieldmaiden herald, delivering
Mildred's orders to their intended recipient. A madly grinning Shieldmaiden
herald.
Into that productive chaos, a mere week after she had returned home, rode two
of the most important men in Mildred's life.
                                      ~*~
Baldwyn ran into the Great Hall (also known as Mildred's command center) and
skittered to a stop in front of her sister.
"Baldwine has come! Éomer and his party escorted him home!"
Mildred abandoned her work, quickly running her hands over her dress and hair.
"Oh, Mildred! Do not be disappointed if they are not as close as you would
wish," Baldwyn advised her before they had to make their way out of the hall to
greet their guests.
Lord Baldwig met them on the way to the entrance, offering each of his
daughters an arm.
They came just in time to watch as the riders dismounted.
Éomer had grown even taller and broader in the shoulders. His hair was pulled
back into a ponytail, reaching down to where his shoulder blades should be.
There was a light shadow of beard on his face, a few shades darker than his
sun-bleached hair.
Mildred couldn't help the slight blush as memories of what he looked like under
the armor and clothes flashed through her mind.
But she didn't glance away from his eyes, or missed the way the brown darkened
a few shades.
"Sweet Béma, is that you, Mildred?" A distantly familiar voice asked, tearing
her attention away from her betrothed.
Mildred blinked once or twice, taking in her favorite brother. He was as tall
as their father, long hair almost the same shade of blond, with a sheen of red
in the sunshine, and had grown a beard.
Baldwine had always looked more like their father than anyone else in the
family, but now he was his spitting image. Only a few years younger, obviously.
Laughing, Mildred hugged the brother she hadn't seen in over two years.
"Why, am I so different from what you expected, Brother?"
"Aye, for I, wrongly it appears, imagined a slightly taller, perhaps wiser
version of the young filly with glowing red braids I left here."
Mildred rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness. "I would have you know that the
Lady Cwendar has declared my apprenticeship complete. By all accounts, I am a
stellar example for all a young lady should be."
Baldwine shook his head in mock-dismay. "How many have you bribed? Do you
require some additional funds?"
Baldwyn opened her mouth, ready to defend her favorite sibling, no doubt.
However, Mildred simply retaliated by reaching out and twisting Baldwine's ear.
"Is that any way to speak to your beloved sister?"
Her brother exaggerated his pain, playing it up for their younger siblings.
"I apologize, I apologize," he cried, acting as if he was desperate to free
himself from her mean clutches.
Mildred let go, but Baldwine simply claimed her arm and led the way into the
hall.
Behind them, they could hear their father laughingly making their excuses while
Baldwyn rolled her eyes and snuck off.
Mildred asked a passing maid to make sure that her brother could take a nice,
cleansing bath.
After that, they didn't stop until they reached his chambers. The ones opposite
from her own.
"While we wait, you must tell me how you have fared these last few years,"
Baldwine demanded, settling his sister into a chair by the fire.
Mildred examined him from head to toe. "Oh dear," she said as she realized
something so obvious, she should've thought of it years ago.
"What is it?"
She sighed. "I fared well. Théoden King has been very generous and welcoming
towards me, as has Lady Cwendar, my former mistress. She has the oversight of
his household in Edoras, so it was decided that I should learn from her."
"Father said, the decision was made to separate you and your betrothed,"
Baldwine countered, frowning slightly.
Mildred rolled her eyes. "That's because Hilda caught us kissing. She thought I
was compromising my honor, which I was not, naturally, and that it would best
for us to remain apart until we could wed. I'm sure you can imagine why."
Baldwine ran a hand through his hair. "Would you have compromised your honor
for him?"
"You believe he would take advantage of me?" Mildred asked, incredulous,
against her will. "If anything, Baldwine, I have taken advantage of him."
The man her brother had become stood and began pacing.
"I know that you are far from ambitious in that regard, so I assume it was not
to gain a higher rank than our lady mother holds?"
Now, that was insulting!
"Of course not! Baldwine, I love Éomer. Luckily, he loves me in return. We have
stood the test of time and distance. He has faithfully written to me while we
were kept apart, respected my boundaries, respected me ever since we met. He is
honorable to a fault and I would happily spend all my days calling him my
husband."
She took a deep breath. “I would bear his mark with pride, brother.”
For a moment, heavy silence filled the room.
Baldwine halted his pacing in front of her, kneeling so their eyes met. "There
will be songs sung in your honor one day," he muttered, but smiled. "Well, it
appears that I owe your beloved an apology. I am afraid I never treated him as
the brother he is soon to become."
"Why would you think that?" Mildred asked, frowning at her brother.
"Has no one told you yet? Father and Théoden King decided that you should marry
as soon as both of you have finished your respective apprenticeships. It is
written into your contract," Baldwine explained gently. "And unless I am much
mistaken, your Éomer will gallop through the tasks without a bit of trouble,
simply to make certain that your hand is his in marriage by the end of this
year."
Mildred wasn't sure quite how she felt. Of course, she had always assumed that
they would get married as soon as their apprenticeships were completed, but it
was entirely different to hear it confirmed.
"Is there something wrong? Do you not wish to pledge your troth yet?"
That question earned her brother an incredulous glare.
"Baldwine! Naturally, I would love nothing more than to be wedded this year.
However, who ever heard of a bride arranging her own wedding? In mere weeks?"
Her words were met by hearty laughter.
                                      ~*~
As much as she enjoyed spending time with her favorite brother again, Mildred
still had heaps of work left to finish that day.
It was possible, even plausible, that she hoped that Éomer would find her on
the way to the Great Hall.
She always missed him far too much when they were apart.
Unfortunately, he did not jump out of the shadows and kissed her senseless.
Instead Mildred made sure there would be some special delicacies in honor of
the arrival of Lord Elfmund, Baldwine's master and friend of her father, at
dinner that evening.
Within moments of her return to the Great Hall, she was again buried in work.
                                      ~*~
Éomer finished brushing Firefoot's coat, rewarding the horse's patience with a
piece of carrot. He liked caring for his stallion, it allowed him the chance to
think in peace.
Mildred's presence helped center him as well, although his beloved was up to
her ears in last minute preparations for the tournament.
As far as he knew, she was finally finished with hiring on some additional
women and boys from the nearby villages to help out.
At the moment, Mildred was supposed to be preparing tinctures and drying herbs
with her sister to stock up the healer's pantry and prepare the dyes necessary
for the wise women.
Éomer did not appreciate the increasingly dark rings under her eyes, betraying
how little rest she was getting at night.
At least, Baldwyn attempted to help as much as she could with her nine summers,
running to and fro for Mildred.
A throat being cleared behind him tore Éomer out of his own thoughts.
He turned around and suppressed a groan with much difficulty.
Amusement was twinkling at him from eyes remarkably similar to Mildred's.
"A word, Éomer, please?" Baldwine asked.
Éomer nodded, leading the way out of the stable, to one of the few refuges left
to him in the industrious chaos and still enduring cleaning spree.
Baldwine smiled, yet he kept whatever remarks swirled through his mind to
himself.
"You are a hard man to find," he said instead.
Éomer crossed his arms, frowning at the older of the two. "I did not know you
wished to speak to me in private."
Baldwine sighed, running a hand through his long hair. "Please, do not take
offense. I simply wished to apologize to you for the manner in which I have
treated you whenever we met previously."
Without thought, Éomer's hand strayed to the small, fading scar on his face.
"You are forgiven if you answer me one question. Why have you changed your
mind?"
The older male shifted a bit under his gaze. "Mildred. I took her aside to talk
to her when we first arrived. She clarified the circumstances of your
betrothal, which my lord father had perhaps forgotten to do. Until then, I was
under the impression that some high-born half-grown prince forced himself on my
favorite sister in a manner that necessitated a promise to wed to protect her
reputation and good name."
Éomer stoically kept his composure, considering how he would have acted in a
situation similar to that.
If he heard tell that Éowyn was betrothed to someone he had never met, from one
day to the next...
"I love Mildred. To dishonor her would be to dishonor myself."
Baldwine smiled. "Then let the past stay where it belongs. If you have the
time, I would like to get to know my future brother better."
"Perhaps after the tournament? This is our last evening before the King
arrives," Éomer offered, "and I wish to prepare for the first round."
A grin broke out on the other male's face as they clasped hands. "Then you
should know your prize should you prove yourself worthy. Théoden King and my
lord father have agreed that you two may wed as soon as you have completed the
tournament successfully. What better time is there then when all the important
nobles have gathered here?"
With that last thought, Baldwine left him to his own devices.
Éomer looked at the forgotten comb in his hand, a plan taking root in his mind.
                                      ~*~
That night, after dinner, Mildred was in the process of preparing for bed. She
had just slipped into her nice, warm nightgown when someone knocked.
Frowning, she opened the door, not sure who she was expecting.
It certainly wasn't Éomer.
Hastily, she pulled him into her room, praying to Béma that no one had seen
him. Especially not Baldwine!
"Not that I'm unhappy to see you, my love," Mildred began, whispering urgently.
Éomer smiled as soon as she started her tirade.
Which sort of took all the fun out of it for her.
"Hail, Firebrand, I see that you are indeed returned home," he teased softly,
offering her an embrace.
Mildred huffed, but accepted the hug happily.
After basking in their rare moment of peace, she asked: "Why have you risked my
brother's wrath by coming here at night?"
"I wished to see you in your nightgown, my heart," Éomer replied, all serious,
as if it should have been obvious to her.
Mildred crossed her arms under her bust, mock-glaring at him.
Unfortunately, instead of paying that the attention due to the inherent danger,
as it indicated her less than stellar mood, his gaze dipped down to her chest.
In retaliation, Mildred rolled her eyes and pinched one of his buttocks.
"Now, why have you really come? You should have already been sleeping! The
tournament begins in two days. If you don't sleep enough, you will only get
injured."
Éomer kissed her forehead, smiling at her. "I shall do my best to rest
properly, beloved, for I intend to succeed. I came to ask you for a favor to
wear during the tournament. For luck."
Mildred stopped to consider the request with all the necessary seriousness.
Favors were a big deal if they were exchanged between those of opposite sex.
Then her eyes fell to her small vanity, a gift from Lady Cwendar to commemorate
the end of her apprenticeship.
She picked up the perfect thing to gift him as a favor. "Turn around. I shall
braid it into your hair for you."
Éomer obeyed easily, sighing softly when her fingers flew through his long
blond mane.
"There. You shall be the luckiest and the prettiest of them all."
"How could I not be, knowing you shall be watching me?"

With a quick, stolen kiss, Éomer vanished back into the night
End Notes
     Yet another self insert! Yay!
     I’m prone to updating irregularly, FYI, but I’ve started writing for
     this fic in April, so I’ve an idea where I wanna go with this.
     Hope you enjoyed!
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!