GÁRULF -- the first sign

[fengel]

”No... N-no…” The boy was sitting down on the steppes – there was nothing to hear around him. It was as if the sound had died, and all the eye could see was the yellow summer grass that covered the flat steppes of Rohan. Somewhere in the distance should be mountains, but they were hidden today. The horizon melted together with a yellow shine from the sky where the sun was rising. It let its shine fall on his face and made the raven black hair sparkle as the sun illuminated it. For once the young shepherd was without his sheep but that was not what he was worried about. He was not thinking about the sheep right now – nor did he care to look at the beautiful sunrise. The only thing he could feel and see in front of him was something he had never felt before. It was as if someone had pierced a sword through his stomach, cut it up all the way to the chest and ripped out his heart.

A tear broke away from his blue eyes and landed on a body that was lying in front of him. Long dark hair surrounded the white bearded face. The man who Fengel was kneeling in front of had blue lifeless lips and his whole skin was cold. Around the young boy and the man the earth was painted red with blood that still ran out from the wound the man had in his chest. The boy’s clothes were dirty with his blood and the wet mud the morning fog made. Several tears now ran down Fengel’s cheeks and to the tip of his nose. Each one of them dripped down on the dead man’s face. A painful groan escaped the shepherd’s lips and he lifted the man’s head up and placed his forehead against it. Fengel sobbed into the familiar smell of his clothes that mixed with the smell of the blood and he slowly lowered the head down to the ground again. Right that moment, the man’s eyes shot open and he gasped for air – surprising and scaring Fengel so much that the boy fell backwards. A silent hiss came out from the man’s lips. “Is he up?”

Darkness suddenly appeared. And he boy frowned at the voices that mixed with the man’s and something pushed the world he was in away and made the young boy aware of the darkness that had appeared around him. He realised that his eyes were closed and slowly opened them as he heard his mother’s familiar voice outside the door. “I think that he is still sleeping.” Fengel rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and yawned, feeling a bit disorientated in his own bedroom. “He has been up till late night yesterday and I just wanted to let him sleep out.” His mother mumbled again as her son tried to recover from the dream on the other side of the door. “Well, he has to come out sometime. It is not very often that I come to visit you all.” Another familiar voice said. The sound of that voice made the boy roll his long slender body out of the bed with so much force that he actually fell down on the floor. People became silent behind the door as they heard the bump. It took only a few steps for him to reach the door and push it open. Suddenly he was staring into some hazel eyes that smiled back at him. The face they belonged to was no longer deadly white like it had been in the dream, but a healthy tanned colour, and the hair that surrounded it was shining in the dim light from the small windows. “Hello Fengel.” His brother greeted him.

[garulf]

He was wearing a shiny and beautiful uniform as he was riding over the steppes of Rohan. The wind was in his hair and the sunrise was in his back. Usually he would have worn the helmet, however he did not feel like it since these boarders was his home. He was returning to a place where everyone knew him where people were friendly and where he had nothing to fear. He was not just a soldier here, he was Gárulf. The son of a local farmer. That title was perhaps not a big title, however his last name Folcwine was known in this area. Not because his family had made great deeds and had a line of heroes – they were known to be open and friendly to everyone that came by – friend or foe. The Folcwine family was perhaps a poor hardworking family, but they had always hospitality for any guests and they never hesitated with helping others.

They were a peaceful family, and no one would perhaps have expected them to suddenly have a Rohirrim Rider among them, however Gárulf was not exactly like the rest. He was a thrill seeking young man and he had joined the army on one of his many adventures to Edoras. He had fallen in love with the city of the king and he had never hesitated with serving his lord. He was a great rider – the best one among the Folcwines. His father had even given them their only stallion – their biggest pride, when he had returned home with the great news of him being accepted as one of the royal riders.

He entered the town with his head held high and greeted everyone he passed by. People were up very early and it was not an unusual sight – they were farmers and most of them stood up at sunrise – sometimes even earlier. The young man nodded at a few girls he passed by – girls he had not seen for a long time and who had grown up meanwhile and were probably already promised to some men in this town – or perhaps in other towns. However not few blushed when he sent them his dashing smile. Gárulf finally passed through the town and rode towards the small hills a bit away from the other houses where his family’s farm was. He could see his father talking to a big man that was holding a buck by a leash. It was a young one – his horns have just grown out at it kept on rubbing his head against the big man’s legs trying to scratch the area around them.

Gárulf stopped the stallion and made it prance to get the two men’s attention. “Gárulf!” His father let out and the big man who he was talking to also flashed a warm smile. They were not the only ones that rushed towards him to greet him. A woman with beautiful black hair came out from the house and stopped in the doorway, putting her hands towards her mouth in a surprised gasp before lifting up in her skirt and running towards her son. “Oh Gárulf.” The woman cried out and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. His father patted him on the back and once his parents released him, he got to shake hands with the big farmer that was selling the buck to his father. He even got to greet the white buck before he walked over to the stables to unsaddle his horse. His mother followed him all the way and helped him as his father told them that he needed to finish the trade with the other farmer and would join them for breakfast in a few.

When Gárulf was done with taking care of his horse he looked around for his younger brother. He had been the only one who was missing at his big and rather show-off arrival. “Where is Fengel?” he asked his mother as they walked together back to the house. “I did not see him anywhere around and the sheep are not out.” They entered the living room where the food was also prepared over a big fireplace. He stopped in front of the door that led to the room him and his brother had shared when Gárulf had lived at home. “Is he up?” He asked his mother. She shook her beautiful head. “I think that he is still sleeping.” Gárulf rolled his eyes at that and debated with himself whether or not he should knock on the door. “He has been up till late night yesterday and I just wanted to let him sleep out.” His mother continued and sent him an apologising glance with her shining blue eyes. “Well, he has to come out sometime. It is not very often that I come to visit you all.” The young man said in an annoyed tone right before he heard a bump inside the room. Fengel had probably fallen out of the bed – as usual. The door opened a few seconds after and the same blue eyes as his mother had appeared in the room. “Hello Fengel.” Gárulf smiled back at his brother and pulled him into a hug.

[fengel]

Strong arms wrapped around Fengel’s slender body and pulled him into a warm brotherly hug. “Hiya Gárulf…” he said still a bit surprised and rubbed his eyes again before noticing the happy smile on his mother’s face. He gave her a small one in return and took a step back to look at his brother. Gárulf was everything Fengel was not; he was strong, fearless and handsome. A typical knight in shining armour. He looked exactly like their father; warm brown eyes, dark brown soft hair and a sharp straight nose. Fengel however had their mother’s looks; shining blue eyes, raven black hair and tall slender body, however their mother has managed to look beautiful while Fengel looked like a big mouse with his pointy nose and big ears. He has no idea whom he got those ears from. Both his father’s and his mother’s ears were pretty normal, and even Gárulf (being the lucky man he is) has gotten normal – non-big ears.

Being the man’s younger brother, Fengel has always envied him for everything he had. Gárulf had charms and he was very good at talking to women – when he had been at Fengel’s age, he has already had a few girlfriends, however Fengel still had none. Gárulf was not clumsy like the boy was and he was brave, talented and a very good rider. Well, Fengel knew how to ride, but he was not at all as good as Gárulf was. The boy had not only envied him, but he had also looked up to him. He still hoped that he could grow up to be as handsome as Gárulf, however time had shown that it will not happen. It was not hard to realise that Gárulf was meant to accomplish great things, however Fengel… Well, he was just a simple farmer. Fengel was not a boy who went to war and who saved beautiful maidens. He was comfortable at home with his own little adventures here.

Hild Folcwine, which was the name of their mother, pushed the two boys towards a table that was placed close to the fireplace. “Neither of you have had any breakfast yet.” She said and pushed them down on the seats. First Gárulf and then Fengel next to him. The woman turned around to prepare the food while the two boys poured some cold minty tea in their cups. Fengel wrapped his hands around it and sipped to it before glancing back at his brother and giving him a happy smile that made two small dimples appear on each cheek. “So, how is Edoras?” he asked the older man and leaned back as his mother gave them each a plate of some porridge. Fengel started eating without hesitation while waiting for his brother to reply him.

[garulf]

Gárulf did not even get a chance to greet his brother properly before their mother pushed them towards the table and placed them next to each other. She walked back to the fireplace to prepare their breakfast while Gárulf leaned forward and placed his elbows on the wooden table why folding his hands. He let Fengel pour him some morning tea, as he liked to call it and gave his brother a small smile in return. He remembered all those days where he had been sitting next to his raven haired brother – first while he had been ten years old and Fengel had been eating at Hild’s breast. But then afterwards, his place had been right here, next to Gárulf. They have fought, laughed and cried at this table – they have had long conversations in the evening and Fengel had taken care of Gárulf when he had returned drunk home from the local pub. Somehow his younger brother seemed wiser and perhaps more mature in some ways than Gárulf, even though their age difference was quite big.

As the porridge got served, Gárulf placed his wooden spoon in the small bowl and stirred in it while glancing up at Fengel as he asked him a question. “Edoras is wonderful. The buildings are beautiful and the riders are well taken care of…” he paused for a moment and let out a deep sigh. He did not want to talk about the worries they had for King Theoden’s illness nor for the wariness they felt around Grima Wormtongue. He did not want to talk badly about the King and his caretaker, so he quickly put some porridge in his mouth to prevent himself from saying anything else. Their mother took a seat in front of the two boys and gave Gárulf a warm smile as she too started eating. They were soon joined by their father who entered through the door with long steps.

“Lady Eowyn is beautiful though…” he said with a cheesy smile and looked up at his parents before turning his attention to Fengel. “There is no doubt that she is of royal blood. She has wonderful long golden hair, and she is as brave as a lion. Her face is flawless and her eyes are kind. Everything a woman from Rohan needs.” He told the others and took a drink from his tea. Their father looked back at him with a lifted eyebrow and replied with a deep but loud voice. “You can beam all you want Gárulf, but you should go after women who are not out of your league. We want grandchildren soon.” He said and seemed to only direct that comment to the older brother. Gárulf rolled his eyes at the man who now wrapped a big hand about the tiny waist of their mother who giggled under her breath. “Well, father. You have to go to Fengel for that request. I have no intentions on getting married just yet.”

[fengel]

Fengel was known for eating way too fast and he usually got hiccups afterwards. It was typical him, but he could not help it. He was sitting learned across the table while his left elbow rested on it and his right hand was holding the spoon that moved back and forth between his mouth and the bowel of porridge. He usually got porridge for breakfast and he had gotten used to eating it even though it did not look delicious or tasted like that either. His family was not rich and could not afford delicious breakfast every day. Plus, the porridge they ate was filled with vitamins and it filled your stomach and made you last through the day. He glanced back at Gárulf who did not seem to eat anything and the young boy rolled his eyes at it. It was typical Gárulf. He was probably too fancy for food like that. Couldn’t he just appreciate whatever was served for him? Their mother did her best after all. It was not like she wanted to make food like that for people whom she loved.

Fengel nodded when Gárulf started talking about Edoras. “I would like to see it sometime. Perhaps we should go there to trade…?” he asked hopefully and looked up at their mother who shook her head and replied with a soft smile. “No, Fengel. It is too far to travel.” He had already guessed that answer and the boy just shrugged before turning his attention back to the food. Their father soon joined them and the muscular man took a seat next to his wife by the table. It was not hard to see what boy looked like what parent. Their father had thick brown hair and warm brown eyes. He had big hands and long beard which was sometimes braided in two. While their mother had black hair like Fengel and shining blue eyes just like him. She too was tall and slender like their youngest son and she did not look Rohirric compared to their Viking father.

The boy just listened to the conversation at the table without taking any part in it. It was typical to talk about a wife for Gárulf. He was after all getting old and he needed to settle down sooner or later. However what he had not expected was his name to come up. The boy spat out the tea he had just drunk and let out a violent cough. “W-w-w-…” he coughed and hammered a fist against his flat chest. “N-n-n-n…” Then the hiccups started right after and he had to swallow a couple of times to make the feeling of vomiting go away. “No! What? Me? No!” he said with a few hiccups and swallowed again. “I am… No!” Fengel was not good with words when it came to talks like these. “I am still young. I don’t even have a… No… You should get married Gárulf.” He quickly tried to turn the subject over on his brother and looked back at their dad who seemed to be very amused by the situation.

[garulf]

Fengel had of course no idea what he was talking about and should totally stop godmodding because Gárulf did not eat fancy food… Would the man have written if he had the chance, however Gárulf was controlled by a girl who had decided that Fengel was right, so he had nothing else to do but to follow his brother’s assumption? So, the conclusion is, Gárulf was not fond of porridge – mostly because if it’s consistence and colour – not because it tasted bad because it was actually quite delicious. The man was actually used to some better food – especially meat with lots of proteins to build up his muscles for fight. When he had tasted something else than peasant food, then of course it was unavoidable for him to still enjoy it.

Gárulf looked first at his younger brother and opened his mouth to reply him, however their mother did it first and she said that they could not go to Edoras to trade because it was too far away. He glanced back at Fengel and gave him a small smile as he saw how sad his brother became. “I can perhaps arrange a trip for you with me… Perhaps next winter where there is not so much work to do around here.” He said and patted gently Fengel’s back. Even though his brother could be a pain in the ass most of the time, Gárulf usually took his side when there was a small thing their parents would agree with him on. He usually teased or gently bullied Fengel because he was so darn weak, and Gárulf believed that the more he did it, the stronger his brother would get and at the end he would probably (hopefully) learn something from it.

A snort escaped the man’s lips as he heard Fengel’s reply to his parents. Stuttering and confused as always and Gárulf had to cover his mouth to prevent him from spitting out the tea. “I just had tea coming out from my nose…” he laughed, “But it was totally worth it.” The man said and wiped his nose as he waited for Fengel to finish that extremely short argument he was trying to say. He crossed his arms and waited for his brother to throw the ball back at his side and when he did so, the dark haired rider took it without question and finished this discussion once and for all. “Fengel is still in love with his sheep, so he won’t get married anytime soon.” Gárulf teased and looked at their parents.

“And I do not plan it either, because I have not yet met the right woman. We are so busy in Edoras that we have barely time for any women.” He told them with a nod and raised his cup into a toast. Their father seemed to eye his two sons for a moment before his face broke out into a big grin. “I have bought a buck.” The old man finally said and Gárulf nudged Fengel in the side. “Another animal for you to have fun with, bro’!” He whispered and heard Fengel’s hiss from behind his gritted teeth. “It is actually for your mother. I think that she is getting bored with the chickens.” Their father continued and patted his wife on her rounded waist.