So it came to be that Heolf and little Theogorn travelled with their wagon through the woods. They should have their native village of Beaconwatch nearly reached. But it wouldn’t be right to immediately head of to the actual story without knowing some background, do you? We will no more talk about Beaconwatch and its people in this chapter, as that I’ll leave for chapter three.
You understand that I, Theogorn, do not just want to write my biography down here. Some authors may simply write a story for fun, but there are others who write serious stories. Hereby, I make clear to take this author seriously. There are stories that really matter. Stories that represent something bigger. Some stories have a bigger meaning. I, Theogorn, don’t merely want to share my life’s story with you. I want to share with you because I’m so impressed by what I have witnessed, and how comprehensive my ways of life were. Yes, one truly turned out another. There are stories where the characters are in doubt, they’re lost within the world. There are stories where everything looks black, and how possibly could the character find a way out? There are stories where the character struggles, or really wants to change something. Special experiences that he alone can tell and nobody else, because he alone suffered of it. Not that I would have been the only one in doubt or suffering, for this is a big world and many suffer, but none can explain my suffering. Just like I cannot explain theirs, because I never experienced. Yes, I confess, this tale I wrote because I felt, not because I witnessed.
Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yes, we talked about me and my father riding in the woods south of the Entwash. Yes, I was going to talk about my parents, of Heolf and Cleowyn. They had a serious impact on my life, and I really wouldn’t have been writing in RedStable without any of them, in a good and a bad way.
My mother was pretty practical. Cleowyn was not highly educated and was the daughter of a mere farmer. She couldn’t read or write, nor she could count. Yet I considered her much wiser than my father. She had a wisdom for a lifetime. In the household, she couldn’t assist with the trade of my father. Yes, she cleaned the house, she washed our clothes, she took care of me and my brother and sister. She worked in the field, she watched our sheep’s, she brushed them, she wove the tapistry we sold on the far markets in the all the corners of Rohan. She cooked our dinner and she provided a warmth in our house like one I have never seen again. Does it surprise you I loved her more than my father? She played with us in the garden and the woods, when we wounded our knees on the hard rocks she took care of us and she would be frightened if anything bad happened with Coradin, Khatie or me. She is my true mother indeed, and I am proud for that. She does not battle like me, Amarthorns heirs or any other of the Dúndedain or of my kinsmen, but she is a noble woman worthy to her people. She would have sacrificed her live to save mine and is bold in her own way. It is of people like she that we Eorlingas are still considered a noble enough people.
My father is very different and quite the opposite of my mother. I am really worried of what I might become, because no good can come out of these contradictions. By fire and water, either the fire extinguishes or the water vanishes into the air. I compare myself with both my father and my mother, because what for breed am I?
While my mother was warm, my father was pretty cold. He didn’t play, he didn’t have fun. He was pretty fast raged and I was actually scared by him. He had an imposing voice and as he cried, everyone on the market square must have heard him. He has his own ideology and he’s pretty much a realist. He does not like the stories I do like. Because they never can happen, they are barely relevant in his point of view. He’s of mind that women should be dependent of their men and that they have to obey. He hoped that Coradin and I will proceed his businesses in the trade would he retire. He educates us with a hard hand and we never can be relieved in his presence. I listen and do what he says, because I can get heavy punishments. Also, he loves his country very much. Well, I love my country too, but still not like he did. He did in a pretty aggressive way. You may understand now that the death of the queen was a serious blow for him. His one-sided view is pretty much destroyed, to say the least. Yes, actually he is a monster, he doesn’t care about us. He’s an egoist and thinks only about his own advantages. He used us. But at some point, he could hide it pretty well outside the walls of the house. He knew he was wrong at some point, and he didn’t tell it to the other villagers. And yes, I was a little scary guy that time, I didn’t dare to take action. I would have been hit hard for that. At some point, my father has always been crazy in his head.
You may understand that within the walls of our household, it wasn’t that simple. There were many conflicts. As my father and I rode through the woods, and we didn’t talk to each other in that time, I was pretty scared. Let’s face it, he has been too quiet at that moment. Somewhere in the day his frustrations caused by the queens death would erupt.
