Two Rohirrim by Himring

I am no man—nor shrinking maid, either.
Secret under helmet, I rode southwards,
hearth forsaking, battle-death seeking,
rode the path to ruin and a red morning;
I drained that cup to its darkest dregs,
bitter though they were, I found life at the bottom.
Say, what am I called?

A war was fought over my hand,
yet I am woman—and unnamed.
My suitor became my bitterest foe,
yet no one had asked me.
One brother died at the gates,
the other lost in the snow—
my father went fey,
my grief unrecorded.
My cousin succeeded.
Who am I?

Chapter End Notes

Zdenka's wrote solutions to these in alliterative verse; find them here on AO3. You can also check the character lists in the end notes of the following two chapters, if you need help.

Two semi-drabbles written for the prompt "riddle" in the Old English Writings Challenge on Tolkien Weekly.

Some Old English riddles are really riddles and even very obscure, others are more like poems about their subject. They are often in the first person and end with variations of "Say what am I called?"

In the Bitter Watches of the Night

She sits at her uncle’s bedside. Her lips move soundlessly.
What ails my lord, I call thee foe.
I summon thee! Thou dar'st not stay.
Be thou shot of elf or witch’s curse,
come out! Come out!
Thou art small.
Thou art smaller still.
Thou art smaller than a worm, than the blind eye of a worm, and I crush thee under my heel.
Thus!
She grinds her heel into the floor. Her grandmother would frown on such superstitions, but Morwen Steelsheen is dead and Eowyn is alone.
Theoden sighs, turns, dreaming briefly of Snowmane running free over green fields.

Over Death, Over Dread, Over Doom Lifted

Nobody, seeing her walk proudly down the hall after her conversation with Grima, would know she is blind with tears. It is the sound of his harp that draws Eowyn’s attention to the minstrel in the corner.
‘That passed and so may this,’ sings Gleowine softly.
She sits down beside him and listens as he sings of ancient grief: Eorl mourning his father, Brego mourning his son.
‘That passed and so may this.’
‘Who made this song?’ she asks.
‘I do not know,’ answers Gleowine. ‘But some say Helm’s daughter sang it towards the end of the Long Winter.’

***

She sits again beside Gleowine, watching a bar of sunlight laid across the floor of the hall.
‘I’m working on it,’ says Gleowine quietly. ‘I will say of him: Hope he rekindled and in hope ended.’
Eowyn remembers well the black moment when hope seemed very far away, but holds her peace. Is it not nevertheless the truth?
‘Say also of him,’ she says instead, ‘that he was, in his day, the most generous of men, the most amiable and the kindest to his people—how he upheld the reputation of our House!’
‘I will say that also’, promises Gleowine.

Chapter End Notes

Characters: Eowyn & Theoden, her uncle. Also Gleowine, Theoden's minstrel.

True drabbles first posted at Tolkien Weekly for the Old English Writings challenge for the prompts: charm, elegy.

Note on the first drabble:

The title is from RotK ("The Houses of Healing")

Notes on the double drabble about Eowyn and Gleowine:

The first drabble is based on the Old English elegy "Deor" and quotes or paraphrases its refrain.
The second drabble takes elegy in a different and more general sense: "a lament for the dead". The quotation from Gleowine's lament for Theoden is taken from "Many Partings" in RotK, where his lament is quoted in part. (The title is also taken from Gleowine's lament.) The words Eowyn asks Gleowine to add to his song are actually a paraphrase of the lament for Beowulf (the character) with which the poem "Beowulf" ends. I thought this was appropriate as the description of Theoden's burial in RotK seems to be partly based on the description of Beowulf's burial in "Beowulf".

A Spring of Little Hope

March brings the equinox.
Then men must dig and sow…

But in Dunharrow there is little to sow, crowded as the place is with refugees. They must win back their fields first.
She stands by her cousin’s horse. Still reeling with shock, when news came from the Hornburg, she was the first to take up the shout: “Frealaf king, Frealaf king!” The House of Eorl bows under the onslaught, but it must not break. She has woven her red ribbon into his bridle, fervently whispering charms for success.
‘Bema speed thee!’
Frealaf embraces her.
‘He will. Hold Dunharrow for me!’

White as with a drifted snow

She stands by the burial mound. Already, it is covered with the kindlier snow of fast-growing simbelmyne. Out of Westfold, wild tales emerge of the last days of Helm Hammerhand. The father she is still mourning—a man often harsh, but not uncaring—has become legend.
‘What will you do now?’ Frealaf asks her.
‘Do? Why, there is work enough here for the rest of our lives! What one cruel winter cost us we will struggle years to regain!’
She gazes at him, suddenly uncertain, but her newly-crowned cousin looks nothing short of relieved.
‘I will have your help, still?’

Figures of Ancient Legends, Dim with Years

T.A. 2752 In this year Brytta was born, he who was afterwards called Leofa by his people, for he was loved by all.

‘So did you ever get to see Wulf, even?’ young Brytta asks.
‘Yes, I did—once!’
‘And was he all ugly and black and fierce?’
‘No!  He was quite handsome. But I could never have married him, you understand. My sons would have become a danger to my family—that was clear from the outset.’
Helm’s daughter, white-haired now, looks at her solemn questioner and laughs.
‘Do not pity me, dear! Not for this! There is no love story to chronicle here—no regrets! You are the only prince ever to have held my heart!’
And she kisses Brytta’s cheek.

Chapter End Notes

Characters: Helm Hammerhand's daughter, her cousin Frealaf Hildeson and his son Brytta, called Leofa.

True drabbles written for the Old English Writings challenge at Tolkien Weekly for the prompts: calendar, tale, chronicle.

Notes on first drabble:

Tolkien says (LOTR Appendix A): "Soon after the winter broke. Then Frealaf, son of Hild, Helm's sister, came down out of Dunharrow, to which many had fled; and with a small company of desperate men he surprised Wulf in Meduseld and slew him, and regained Edoras."
The first two lines are supposed to be from a Rohirrim metrical calendar.
The title is from FotR ("The Great River").

Notes on second drabble:

Tolkien says (Appendix A): The Dunlendings were driven out [...] and Frealaf became king. Helm was brought from the Hornburg and laid in the ninth mound.
The title is taken from the chapter "The King of the Golden Hall" in "The Two Towers".

Notes on third drabble:
The line in italics is from the list of kings of Rohan in Appendix A, re-written slightly to fit the style of the early entries in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (which are technically annals). However, I did not manage to fit this inside the word count for the drabble, so there is another nod to the prompt within it. The title is taken from "The King of the Golden Hall" in "The Two Towers".

The Old English Writings challenge at Tolkien Weekly was prompted by the forthcoming publication of Tolkien's Beowulf translation.

Posted to AO3 in 2014 and made part of a series "Tales of Rohan".