#Léofaen

[celeluwhenfics]

One of my absolute favorite parts of pHORSE c. 2 was the little trip through Rohan’s history, with quick, vivid flashes of the doings of Rohirrim royalty of old, particularly the (unnamed by Tolkien) queens and princesses. Is there any more that you’d like to share on that front? Like, perhaps someone who you ended up cutting out of those paragraphs, or someone who is in them but you’d like to elaborate on further? (My personal favorite are the wolf taming sisters, but I’d be excited to hear about anyone!)

Sorry for taking so long to answer this ask!!! But now that I’m about to release chapter 3, this is a good moment to say a little more about chapter 2. Now is a good time to catch up on pHORSE, folks!

The QUEENS! I’m glad you noticed this passage. Are you ready for a LONG, RAMBLING response?? It was partly inspired by a side bar discussion we had just as I was struggling with how to write on Rowena’s impressions as she entered Meduseld (I think that I will do another post on how I got myself out of that epic description block!). We agreed that the Rohirrim had many stories and memories pertaining to their queens, although at the time of LotR they hadn’t had a queen on the throne for nearly forty years.

I put two and two together, and opening my Appendix A at page 1068, I looked at what gaps could be filled with queens. It turns out, there are many, many gaps! I came up with the scraps of some stories that would have been passed down through songs, poems and legends, that Rowena would certainly remember as she saw the hall for the first time. Although the princes, kings and husbands mentioned are present in the Appendix, all of these ladies and their stories are completely invented, with the exception of Morwen Steelsheen.

For the record I do strongly subscribe to your idea you expressed in later discussions, that the Rohirrim had many songs about the women that had made their history, and that they told their children inspiring tales about the most remarkable shieldmaidens and ladies, but that none of it was recorded when foreign loremasters put Rohan’s history on paper, which is why so few Rohan ladies are mentioned in LotR and the appendixes.

Note that all of this was thought of, written and published BEFORE anyone had seen War of the Rohirrim, therefore the feeling of absence of female characters in the deep past of Rohan was perhaps more acute. Also, since we were waiting for the movie and I didn’t know how the material would be treated, I mostly skirted the subject of Helm Hammerhand’s family to avoid confusing everyone so close to the release.

So, here is a little more flesh around the ladies and queens that Rowena recalls from songs and recognizes in tapestries as she arrives in Meduseld!

‘She had heard, too, of the songs of queen Tréawyn the Wise, which could bring tears to the eyes of the most hardened warriors, and were said to have drawn birds of all feathers to nest and sing at the crown of the columns, as if the hewn trees had sprung to life again to the sound of her enchanting melismas.’

Does this sound like Tréawyn is a Disney princess? Well, I wouldn’t quite shy away from the image of an extraordinarily enchanting princess marrying the second son of Brego, Aldor. But I also see her as so much more, starting with her active talent of course, but also her attribute, “the Wise” (as opposed to that of her husband, Aldor “the Old”). And here, for the needs of the narrative, I was focusing on stories related to the hall itself, hence the legend about her making the columns spring back to life, but Tréawyn’s voice was famous for another feat entirely. There was much fighting in the East with the Dunlendings in the time of Aldor, and during a particularly distressing attack of a royal convoy, the three youngest children of Tréawyn, including little Fréa, were abducted and kept captive in a high mountain valley. Aldor prepared to attack their Dunlendings captors with a large force to free them, but Tréawyn wisely begged him not to attempt it, fearing for the safety of the children. Instead, she went alone, at night, and unarmed, asking to meet with their leaders. Then instead of pleading, or offering all the riches of the Mark in exchange for the life of the little princess and two tiny princes, she started improvising an exquisitely beautiful song. The Dunlendings sat transfixed. She sang and sang, about the love she had for her children, how precious they were to her, how unnatural and cruel it was to separate them from their mother, and appealing to their shared humanity. It is said that hearing their mother’s voice, the toddlers who had been crying and screaming curled up and slept despite the rough, cold cot where they were confined. The captors, who could not understand a word of Tréawyn’s singing, nonetheless were enchanted by her voice. At dawn, Tréawyn’s voice broke. In the silence that ensued, the Dunlendings fetched the children, broke the ropes that bound their feet, and put them in their mother’s arms. Without turning back, she carried them down into the valley, to the amazement of the armed men of her husband who were waiting there. (Orfeo in Rohan!) Although the little princes, including a future king, were saved on this occasion, what followed was a particularly sad and bloody episode of Rohan’s history. Tréawyn advocated for clemency towards the Dunlendings, who had proved their humanity and who had rights to a land of their own. She believed that they should have been treated justly, and that a peaceful understanding with their clans was possible. But Aldor showed no mercy, and he “drove out or subdued the last of the Dunlendish people that lingered east of Isen”, founding Rohirrim settlements in the valleys they formerly occupied. The spouses grew deeply divided over this question. Tréawyn effectively divorced Aldor and lived the rest of her days in Aldburg.

‘She had pictured the famed beauty of Lady Léofaen, daughter of Brytta King, dancing on the hall's dais in skirts of gold and green, laughing before her many suitors, until one of them, a humble shepherd blessed by Béma, offered her a horse like the wind, a sword like lighting, a shield like the full moon, and a kiss sweet like the first fruit of summer.’

This idea came to me from the French folk song Aux Marches du Palais. In this song, a beautiful lady is courted by many men, but she chooses a shoemaker. He tenderly promises her many things, which make less and less sense as it goes (or at least their sexual meaning is entirely lost to modern ears). But what’s interesting in this song is that the lady has agency: she makes an unlikely choice, and seems to maintain it although its outcome is unusual, certainly socially and perhaps sexually transgressive, and possibly tragic. I also drew some inspiration for the (French again) folk tale Peau d’Âne, where the princess asks for seemingly impossible gifts (three dresses, one Sun-coloured, one Moon-coloured, and one Time-coloured) to accept a marriage proposal. I think that we can now agree that Léofaen can be very pretty, being a granddaughter of hem hem Fréaláf Hildeson himself. But she doesn’t just look good, she gets to make a choice, and she gets a fancy shield and a sword! She makes a life of her own outside of her father’s hall which doesn’t involve marrying a lord, but rather agency, freedom and love with a man from a lower class.

There were probably some poetic embellishments for the sake of the song, but many wondered how an humble shepherd could have gained Béma’s favour and procured such extravagant gifts for the lady he wished to court! At the end of the Third Age, the true identity and factual basis for Léofaen’s mysterious lover had been entirely lost to time and imagination. But, girls still whispered, what if it had been Béma himself, under disguise, who had come to seduce her and run away with her on a horse like the wind? Weren’t they, golden-haired maiden of Eorl’s house, the most beautiful women in Middle-Earth? It only came to sense then, that a god would fall in love with one of them…

‘Her grandmother had sung of the twenty harpists and sixty fiddles that she had seen herself forming the suite of lady Morwen Steelsheen, and of the rich draperies that this queen would have displayed around the hall on days of festivities, when even the guards, pages and lackeys waiting on her wore bright silks and gold-embroidered liveries.’ Here I’m starting from the very simple idea that Morwen had a large and rich suite, but if we really think about it, an orchestra of twenty harps and sixty violins is bizarre at best. It is very likely that the grandmother’s memory or description of the orchestra is not entirely accurate. There were probably other different instruments that she didn’t recognize, possibly come with the queen from a Gondorian tradition, and she only calls them harps and fiddles because she doesn’t have a word for lutes, theorbos, viola da gamba, psaltery, dulcimer, tromba marina… (I mean, who could blame her?) But I really like to think that some of these instruments could have stayed and influenced later musical traditions in Rohan. Perhaps Morwen’s children, and some of her grandchildren, could have pursued her passion and very refined taste in music? If you know my Théo, you know where I’m going with this… I am NOT saying however that Gondor would have had better/fancier music than Rohan, on any account. I’m only thinking that sometimes the richest art happens when different traditions meet, mix or branch out, and Rohan could be where something special happens musically? Ok the musicologist in me just wants to put readers through a field day here, let me tell you. Borodred here I come! (Eventually.)

‘[On tapestries], there again, Gleyma and Gykka, sisters of Goldwinë King, taming the white wolves of the Firien Wood to herd the countless horses of the Emnet.‘ There at last, we arrive to your faves!!! Although there was relative peace during the reign of Goldwinë, it was not an idyllic time. Notably, one scorching summer, there was a devastating equine epidemic that decimated the herds of the Rohirrim. When winter came, very few horses remained that were fit to be ridden, and all of them were requisitioned for the king’s guard and some of the main éoreds. Women were discouraged to ride, as the precious horses were reserved for the most “valuable” riders. Gleyma and Gykka however were no princesses to sit on their hands and wait for the moment when enough new foals would have been born for them to be allowed to train new mounts for themselves. They went to spend the winter in the Firien Wood, where it was said that packs of notoriously clever white wolves roamed. Somehow they tamed them, and come spring, they led them over the Emnet to gather the herds of feral horses that had survived in the cooler hills. Later that summer, they and their wolves led three thousand healthy horses to the plains of the Fold. There were many songs sung about the face their kingly brother made when he saw them arriving! Needless to say, they were allowed to ride again. This story could explain the existence of an old “Wolf” clan in the East, where a wolf would have a positive association. The later doings of Wulf Fréca's son's would however bring confusion and some prejudice around the wolf imagery, as we will see in Chapter 3… Fun fact, Gleyma’s name comes directly from the verb “to forget” in Old Norse! I know that there’s no canonical link between Rohan and Old Norse culture, but… I needed a G name, it sounds cool and I find it VERY fitting for an unnamed lady of Rohan! Gykka just… sounds cool. Digression time!!! This idea came to me from one of the both stupidest and cleverest things I’ve probably ever done. As I’ve mentioned before (but never actually expanded upon), I worked one summer as a mounted shepherd in Iceland. It was completely hectic, many adventures and freak outs ensued. But one day, as I was pretty much alone at the farm, there was a storm brewing and I had to bring in 12 horses who were grazing on a large pasture. Usually, this would have been done by rounding them up on foot, as they understood the drill and knew the way to the stables. But that herd had just had the addition of two new members, including a VERY strong-willed gelding, and there was a war for leadership with the former strong man of the group. Therefore, instead of sticking together, the herd was acting like magnets repelling each other. On top of that, the ground was muddy, watery and uneven, impossible for me to run in, and the wind was howling so loud that my yells were getting lost. I tried so hard to lead these horses in, but there was no way it would work, and I was left in the middle of the pasture with 12 horses completely ignoring me and fighting amongst themselves. That’s when I thought: I know SOMEONE who can run in this and knows how to herd a non-cooperative group… I went in and took Grímur, the madly enthusiastic Border Collie. I looked at him, he looked at me, he understood. Five minutes later, the horses were safely in the barn. DON’T EVER DO THIS!!!! Dogs must never learn that they can herd the horses! They are there to herd the sheep! You don’t want a dog to start “herding” a horse as you are on the saddle! This is dangerous! If anyone had seen me that day I would have been crucified and left for the puffins to pick my bones clean. But… I was alone on the farm, the wind was howling, the horses were mad, and Grímur was there. And the wolves of Firien were there for Gykka and Gleyma.

‘Here was woven (…) queen Herumë the Brave rousing the courage of her late husband’s men before a last victorious stand against grimacing Dúnlendings’ This one is self-explanatory! Herumë would have been Walda’s wife. My goal when writing what would be Rowena’s references when thinking of the great ladies of the Mark was to include a diversity of stories. I wanted to include a shieldmaiden, but not ONLY shieldmaidens. And I wanted beautiful, artistically talented princesses, but not ONLY pretty princesses. As much as I did not want to represent a stereotype of passive femininity, I wished to avoid the opposite pitfall, which would have been to show that the only way for women to be remembered was to adopt the traditional qualities and activities of men. Women can be remarkable, strong, independent, clever, AND be women! And they deserve to be remembered as such.

[celeluwhenfics]

Morning reblog because I love the queens and ladies of Rohan too much!!!

One of my absolute favorite parts of pHORSE c. 2 was the little trip through Rohan’s history, with quick, vivid flashes of the doings of Rohirrim royalty of old, particularly the (unnamed by Tolkien) queens and princesses. Is there any more that you’d like to share on that front? Like, perhaps someone who you ended up cutting out of those paragraphs, or someone who is in them but you’d like to elaborate on further? (My personal favorite are the wolf taming sisters, but I’d be excited to hear about anyone!)

Sorry for taking so long to answer this ask!!! But now that I’m about to release chapter 3, this is a good moment to say a little more about chapter 2. Now is a good time to catch up on pHORSE, folks!

The QUEENS! I’m glad you noticed this passage. Are you ready for a LONG, RAMBLING response?? It was partly inspired by a side bar discussion we had just as I was struggling with how to write on Rowena’s impressions as she entered Meduseld (I think that I will do another post on how I got myself out of that epic description block!). We agreed that the Rohirrim had many stories and memories pertaining to their queens, although at the time of LotR they hadn’t had a queen on the throne for nearly forty years.

I put two and two together, and opening my Appendix A at page 1068, I looked at what gaps could be filled with queens. It turns out, there are many, many gaps! I came up with the scraps of some stories that would have been passed down through songs, poems and legends, that Rowena would certainly remember as she saw the hall for the first time. Although the princes, kings and husbands mentioned are present in the Appendix, all of these ladies and their stories are completely invented, with the exception of Morwen Steelsheen.

For the record I do strongly subscribe to your idea you expressed in later discussions, that the Rohirrim had many songs about the women that had made their history, and that they told their children inspiring tales about the most remarkable shieldmaidens and ladies, but that none of it was recorded when foreign loremasters put Rohan’s history on paper, which is why so few Rohan ladies are mentioned in LotR and the appendixes.

Note that all of this was thought of, written and published BEFORE anyone had seen War of the Rohirrim, therefore the feeling of absence of female characters in the deep past of Rohan was perhaps more acute. Also, since we were waiting for the movie and I didn’t know how the material would be treated, I mostly skirted the subject of Helm Hammerhand’s family to avoid confusing everyone so close to the release.

So, here is a little more flesh around the ladies and queens that Rowena recalls from songs and recognizes in tapestries as she arrives in Meduseld!

‘She had heard, too, of the songs of queen Tréawyn the Wise, which could bring tears to the eyes of the most hardened warriors, and were said to have drawn birds of all feathers to nest and sing at the crown of the columns, as if the hewn trees had sprung to life again to the sound of her enchanting melismas.’

Does this sound like Tréawyn is a Disney princess? Well, I wouldn’t quite shy away from the image of an extraordinarily enchanting princess marrying the second son of Brego, Aldor. But I also see her as so much more, starting with her active talent of course, but also her attribute, “the Wise” (as opposed to that of her husband, Aldor “the Old”). And here, for the needs of the narrative, I was focusing on stories related to the hall itself, hence the legend about her making the columns spring back to life, but Tréawyn’s voice was famous for another feat entirely. There was much fighting in the East with the Dunlendings in the time of Aldor, and during a particularly distressing attack of a royal convoy, the three youngest children of Tréawyn, including little Fréa, were abducted and kept captive in a high mountain valley. Aldor prepared to attack their Dunlendings captors with a large force to free them, but Tréawyn wisely begged him not to attempt it, fearing for the safety of the children. Instead, she went alone, at night, and unarmed, asking to meet with their leaders. Then instead of pleading, or offering all the riches of the Mark in exchange for the life of the little princess and two tiny princes, she started improvising an exquisitely beautiful song. The Dunlendings sat transfixed. She sang and sang, about the love she had for her children, how precious they were to her, how unnatural and cruel it was to separate them from their mother, and appealing to their shared humanity. It is said that hearing their mother’s voice, the toddlers who had been crying and screaming curled up and slept despite the rough, cold cot where they were confined. The captors, who could not understand a word of Tréawyn’s singing, nonetheless were enchanted by her voice. At dawn, Tréawyn’s voice broke. In the silence that ensued, the Dunlendings fetched the children, broke the ropes that bound their feet, and put them in their mother’s arms. Without turning back, she carried them down into the valley, to the amazement of the armed men of her husband who were waiting there. (Orfeo in Rohan!) Although the little princes, including a future king, were saved on this occasion, what followed was a particularly sad and bloody episode of Rohan’s history. Tréawyn advocated for clemency towards the Dunlendings, who had proved their humanity and who had rights to a land of their own. She believed that they should have been treated justly, and that a peaceful understanding with their clans was possible. But Aldor showed no mercy, and he “drove out or subdued the last of the Dunlendish people that lingered east of Isen”, founding Rohirrim settlements in the valleys they formerly occupied. The spouses grew deeply divided over this question. Tréawyn effectively divorced Aldor and lived the rest of her days in Aldburg.

‘She had pictured the famed beauty of Lady Léofaen, daughter of Brytta King, dancing on the hall's dais in skirts of gold and green, laughing before her many suitors, until one of them, a humble shepherd blessed by Béma, offered her a horse like the wind, a sword like lighting, a shield like the full moon, and a kiss sweet like the first fruit of summer.’

This idea came to me from the French folk song Aux Marches du Palais. In this song, a beautiful lady is courted by many men, but she chooses a shoemaker. He tenderly promises her many things, which make less and less sense as it goes (or at least their sexual meaning is entirely lost to modern ears). But what’s interesting in this song is that the lady has agency: she makes an unlikely choice, and seems to maintain it although its outcome is unusual, certainly socially and perhaps sexually transgressive, and possibly tragic. I also drew some inspiration for the (French again) folk tale Peau d’Âne, where the princess asks for seemingly impossible gifts (three dresses, one Sun-coloured, one Moon-coloured, and one Time-coloured) to accept a marriage proposal. I think that we can now agree that Léofaen can be very pretty, being a granddaughter of hem hem Fréaláf Hildeson himself. But she doesn’t just look good, she gets to make a choice, and she gets a fancy shield and a sword! She makes a life of her own outside of her father’s hall which doesn’t involve marrying a lord, but rather agency, freedom and love with a man from a lower class.

There were probably some poetic embellishments for the sake of the song, but many wondered how an humble shepherd could have gained Béma’s favour and procured such extravagant gifts for the lady he wished to court! At the end of the Third Age, the true identity and factual basis for Léofaen’s mysterious lover had been entirely lost to time and imagination. But, girls still whispered, what if it had been Béma himself, under disguise, who had come to seduce her and run away with her on a horse like the wind? Weren’t they, golden-haired maiden of Eorl’s house, the most beautiful women in Middle-Earth? It only came to sense then, that a god would fall in love with one of them…

‘Her grandmother had sung of the twenty harpists and sixty fiddles that she had seen herself forming the suite of lady Morwen Steelsheen, and of the rich draperies that this queen would have displayed around the hall on days of festivities, when even the guards, pages and lackeys waiting on her wore bright silks and gold-embroidered liveries.’ Here I’m starting from the very simple idea that Morwen had a large and rich suite, but if we really think about it, an orchestra of twenty harps and sixty violins is bizarre at best. It is very likely that the grandmother’s memory or description of the orchestra is not entirely accurate. There were probably other different instruments that she didn’t recognize, possibly come with the queen from a Gondorian tradition, and she only calls them harps and fiddles because she doesn’t have a word for lutes, theorbos, viola da gamba, psaltery, dulcimer, tromba marina… (I mean, who could blame her?) But I really like to think that some of these instruments could have stayed and influenced later musical traditions in Rohan. Perhaps Morwen’s children, and some of her grandchildren, could have pursued her passion and very refined taste in music? If you know my Théo, you know where I’m going with this… I am NOT saying however that Gondor would have had better/fancier music than Rohan, on any account. I’m only thinking that sometimes the richest art happens when different traditions meet, mix or branch out, and Rohan could be where something special happens musically? Ok the musicologist in me just wants to put readers through a field day here, let me tell you. Borodred here I come! (Eventually.)

‘[On tapestries], there again, Gleyma and Gykka, sisters of Goldwinë King, taming the white wolves of the Firien Wood to herd the countless horses of the Emnet.‘ There at last, we arrive to your faves!!! Although there was relative peace during the reign of Goldwinë, it was not an idyllic time. Notably, one scorching summer, there was a devastating equine epidemic that decimated the herds of the Rohirrim. When winter came, very few horses remained that were fit to be ridden, and all of them were requisitioned for the king’s guard and some of the main éoreds. Women were discouraged to ride, as the precious horses were reserved for the most “valuable” riders. Gleyma and Gykka however were no princesses to sit on their hands and wait for the moment when enough new foals would have been born for them to be allowed to train new mounts for themselves. They went to spend the winter in the Firien Wood, where it was said that packs of notoriously clever white wolves roamed. Somehow they tamed them, and come spring, they led them over the Emnet to gather the herds of feral horses that had survived in the cooler hills. Later that summer, they and their wolves led three thousand healthy horses to the plains of the Fold. There were many songs sung about the face their kingly brother made when he saw them arriving! Needless to say, they were allowed to ride again. This story could explain the existence of an old “Wolf” clan in the East, where a wolf would have a positive association. The later doings of Wulf Fréca's son's would however bring confusion and some prejudice around the wolf imagery, as we will see in Chapter 3… Fun fact, Gleyma’s name comes directly from the verb “to forget” in Old Norse! I know that there’s no canonical link between Rohan and Old Norse culture, but… I needed a G name, it sounds cool and I find it VERY fitting for an unnamed lady of Rohan! Gykka just… sounds cool. Digression time!!! This idea came to me from one of the both stupidest and cleverest things I’ve probably ever done. As I’ve mentioned before (but never actually expanded upon), I worked one summer as a mounted shepherd in Iceland. It was completely hectic, many adventures and freak outs ensued. But one day, as I was pretty much alone at the farm, there was a storm brewing and I had to bring in 12 horses who were grazing on a large pasture. Usually, this would have been done by rounding them up on foot, as they understood the drill and knew the way to the stables. But that herd had just had the addition of two new members, including a VERY strong-willed gelding, and there was a war for leadership with the former strong man of the group. Therefore, instead of sticking together, the herd was acting like magnets repelling each other. On top of that, the ground was muddy, watery and uneven, impossible for me to run in, and the wind was howling so loud that my yells were getting lost. I tried so hard to lead these horses in, but there was no way it would work, and I was left in the middle of the pasture with 12 horses completely ignoring me and fighting amongst themselves. That’s when I thought: I know SOMEONE who can run in this and knows how to herd a non-cooperative group… I went in and took Grímur, the madly enthusiastic Border Collie. I looked at him, he looked at me, he understood. Five minutes later, the horses were safely in the barn. DON’T EVER DO THIS!!!! Dogs must never learn that they can herd the horses! They are there to herd the sheep! You don’t want a dog to start “herding” a horse as you are on the saddle! This is dangerous! If anyone had seen me that day I would have been crucified and left for the puffins to pick my bones clean. But… I was alone on the farm, the wind was howling, the horses were mad, and Grímur was there. And the wolves of Firien were there for Gykka and Gleyma.

‘Here was woven (…) queen Herumë the Brave rousing the courage of her late husband’s men before a last victorious stand against grimacing Dúnlendings’ This one is self-explanatory! Herumë would have been Walda’s wife. My goal when writing what would be Rowena’s references when thinking of the great ladies of the Mark was to include a diversity of stories. I wanted to include a shieldmaiden, but not ONLY shieldmaidens. And I wanted beautiful, artistically talented princesses, but not ONLY pretty princesses. As much as I did not want to represent a stereotype of passive femininity, I wished to avoid the opposite pitfall, which would have been to show that the only way for women to be remembered was to adopt the traditional qualities and activities of men. Women can be remarkable, strong, independent, clever, AND be women! And they deserve to be remembered as such.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Worth the wait! I was crazy about the initial passage (yes, people, catch up on c. 2 while c. 3 is imminent!), and I love the elaboration of it even more. There’s a lot in here that feels very Tolkienian (the singing to accomplish a necessary and dangerous task in particular hit me that way — very fitting in the larger Middle Earth/Arda context!) — and also a lot that’s very creative. I *especially* love your last point that cool and worthy ladies come in many different varieties. The temptation to pigeonhole power and authority as coming only from traditionally masculine traits and the replication or imitation of those is a strong one in culture, and I think it’s just as important to show power and authority that looks traditionally feminine as well, or somewhere in between.

I still love the wolf taming sisters, but with this added detail I might be moving to Team Léofaen, who (as you say) gets to make some strong, active choices about her destiny and, oh yeah, was cool enough that she perhaps captured the heart of Béma himself!?

One of my absolute favorite parts of pHORSE c. 2 was the little trip through Rohan’s history, with quick, vivid flashes of the doings of Rohirrim royalty of old, particularly the (unnamed by Tolkien) queens and princesses. Is there any more that you’d like to share on that front? Like, perhaps someone who you ended up cutting out of those paragraphs, or someone who is in them but you’d like to elaborate on further? (My personal favorite are the wolf taming sisters, but I’d be excited to hear about anyone!)

Sorry for taking so long to answer this ask!!! But now that I’m about to release chapter 3, this is a good moment to say a little more about chapter 2. Now is a good time to catch up on pHORSE, folks!

The QUEENS! I’m glad you noticed this passage. Are you ready for a LONG, RAMBLING response?? It was partly inspired by a side bar discussion we had just as I was struggling with how to write on Rowena’s impressions as she entered Meduseld (I think that I will do another post on how I got myself out of that epic description block!). We agreed that the Rohirrim had many stories and memories pertaining to their queens, although at the time of LotR they hadn’t had a queen on the throne for nearly forty years.

I put two and two together, and opening my Appendix A at page 1068, I looked at what gaps could be filled with queens. It turns out, there are many, many gaps! I came up with the scraps of some stories that would have been passed down through songs, poems and legends, that Rowena would certainly remember as she saw the hall for the first time. Although the princes, kings and husbands mentioned are present in the Appendix, all of these ladies and their stories are completely invented, with the exception of Morwen Steelsheen.

For the record I do strongly subscribe to your idea you expressed in later discussions, that the Rohirrim had many songs about the women that had made their history, and that they told their children inspiring tales about the most remarkable shieldmaidens and ladies, but that none of it was recorded when foreign loremasters put Rohan’s history on paper, which is why so few Rohan ladies are mentioned in LotR and the appendixes.

Note that all of this was thought of, written and published BEFORE anyone had seen War of the Rohirrim, therefore the feeling of absence of female characters in the deep past of Rohan was perhaps more acute. Also, since we were waiting for the movie and I didn’t know how the material would be treated, I mostly skirted the subject of Helm Hammerhand’s family to avoid confusing everyone so close to the release.

So, here is a little more flesh around the ladies and queens that Rowena recalls from songs and recognizes in tapestries as she arrives in Meduseld!

‘She had heard, too, of the songs of queen Tréawyn the Wise, which could bring tears to the eyes of the most hardened warriors, and were said to have drawn birds of all feathers to nest and sing at the crown of the columns, as if the hewn trees had sprung to life again to the sound of her enchanting melismas.’

Does this sound like Tréawyn is a Disney princess? Well, I wouldn’t quite shy away from the image of an extraordinarily enchanting princess marrying the second son of Brego, Aldor. But I also see her as so much more, starting with her active talent of course, but also her attribute, “the Wise” (as opposed to that of her husband, Aldor “the Old”). And here, for the needs of the narrative, I was focusing on stories related to the hall itself, hence the legend about her making the columns spring back to life, but Tréawyn’s voice was famous for another feat entirely. There was much fighting in the East with the Dunlendings in the time of Aldor, and during a particularly distressing attack of a royal convoy, the three youngest children of Tréawyn, including little Fréa, were abducted and kept captive in a high mountain valley. Aldor prepared to attack their Dunlendings captors with a large force to free them, but Tréawyn wisely begged him not to attempt it, fearing for the safety of the children. Instead, she went alone, at night, and unarmed, asking to meet with their leaders. Then instead of pleading, or offering all the riches of the Mark in exchange for the life of the little princess and two tiny princes, she started improvising an exquisitely beautiful song. The Dunlendings sat transfixed. She sang and sang, about the love she had for her children, how precious they were to her, how unnatural and cruel it was to separate them from their mother, and appealing to their shared humanity. It is said that hearing their mother’s voice, the toddlers who had been crying and screaming curled up and slept despite the rough, cold cot where they were confined. The captors, who could not understand a word of Tréawyn’s singing, nonetheless were enchanted by her voice. At dawn, Tréawyn’s voice broke. In the silence that ensued, the Dunlendings fetched the children, broke the ropes that bound their feet, and put them in their mother’s arms. Without turning back, she carried them down into the valley, to the amazement of the armed men of her husband who were waiting there. (Orfeo in Rohan!) Although the little princes, including a future king, were saved on this occasion, what followed was a particularly sad and bloody episode of Rohan’s history. Tréawyn advocated for clemency towards the Dunlendings, who had proved their humanity and who had rights to a land of their own. She believed that they should have been treated justly, and that a peaceful understanding with their clans was possible. But Aldor showed no mercy, and he “drove out or subdued the last of the Dunlendish people that lingered east of Isen”, founding Rohirrim settlements in the valleys they formerly occupied. The spouses grew deeply divided over this question. Tréawyn effectively divorced Aldor and lived the rest of her days in Aldburg.

‘She had pictured the famed beauty of Lady Léofaen, daughter of Brytta King, dancing on the hall's dais in skirts of gold and green, laughing before her many suitors, until one of them, a humble shepherd blessed by Béma, offered her a horse like the wind, a sword like lighting, a shield like the full moon, and a kiss sweet like the first fruit of summer.’

This idea came to me from the French folk song Aux Marches du Palais. In this song, a beautiful lady is courted by many men, but she chooses a shoemaker. He tenderly promises her many things, which make less and less sense as it goes (or at least their sexual meaning is entirely lost to modern ears). But what’s interesting in this song is that the lady has agency: she makes an unlikely choice, and seems to maintain it although its outcome is unusual, certainly socially and perhaps sexually transgressive, and possibly tragic. I also drew some inspiration for the (French again) folk tale Peau d’Âne, where the princess asks for seemingly impossible gifts (three dresses, one Sun-coloured, one Moon-coloured, and one Time-coloured) to accept a marriage proposal. I think that we can now agree that Léofaen can be very pretty, being a granddaughter of hem hem Fréaláf Hildeson himself. But she doesn’t just look good, she gets to make a choice, and she gets a fancy shield and a sword! She makes a life of her own outside of her father’s hall which doesn’t involve marrying a lord, but rather agency, freedom and love with a man from a lower class.

There were probably some poetic embellishments for the sake of the song, but many wondered how an humble shepherd could have gained Béma’s favour and procured such extravagant gifts for the lady he wished to court! At the end of the Third Age, the true identity and factual basis for Léofaen’s mysterious lover had been entirely lost to time and imagination. But, girls still whispered, what if it had been Béma himself, under disguise, who had come to seduce her and run away with her on a horse like the wind? Weren’t they, golden-haired maiden of Eorl’s house, the most beautiful women in Middle-Earth? It only came to sense then, that a god would fall in love with one of them…

‘Her grandmother had sung of the twenty harpists and sixty fiddles that she had seen herself forming the suite of lady Morwen Steelsheen, and of the rich draperies that this queen would have displayed around the hall on days of festivities, when even the guards, pages and lackeys waiting on her wore bright silks and gold-embroidered liveries.’ Here I’m starting from the very simple idea that Morwen had a large and rich suite, but if we really think about it, an orchestra of twenty harps and sixty violins is bizarre at best. It is very likely that the grandmother’s memory or description of the orchestra is not entirely accurate. There were probably other different instruments that she didn’t recognize, possibly come with the queen from a Gondorian tradition, and she only calls them harps and fiddles because she doesn’t have a word for lutes, theorbos, viola da gamba, psaltery, dulcimer, tromba marina… (I mean, who could blame her?) But I really like to think that some of these instruments could have stayed and influenced later musical traditions in Rohan. Perhaps Morwen’s children, and some of her grandchildren, could have pursued her passion and very refined taste in music? If you know my Théo, you know where I’m going with this… I am NOT saying however that Gondor would have had better/fancier music than Rohan, on any account. I’m only thinking that sometimes the richest art happens when different traditions meet, mix or branch out, and Rohan could be where something special happens musically? Ok the musicologist in me just wants to put readers through a field day here, let me tell you. Borodred here I come! (Eventually.)

‘[On tapestries], there again, Gleyma and Gykka, sisters of Goldwinë King, taming the white wolves of the Firien Wood to herd the countless horses of the Emnet.‘ There at last, we arrive to your faves!!! Although there was relative peace during the reign of Goldwinë, it was not an idyllic time. Notably, one scorching summer, there was a devastating equine epidemic that decimated the herds of the Rohirrim. When winter came, very few horses remained that were fit to be ridden, and all of them were requisitioned for the king’s guard and some of the main éoreds. Women were discouraged to ride, as the precious horses were reserved for the most “valuable” riders. Gleyma and Gykka however were no princesses to sit on their hands and wait for the moment when enough new foals would have been born for them to be allowed to train new mounts for themselves. They went to spend the winter in the Firien Wood, where it was said that packs of notoriously clever white wolves roamed. Somehow they tamed them, and come spring, they led them over the Emnet to gather the herds of feral horses that had survived in the cooler hills. Later that summer, they and their wolves led three thousand healthy horses to the plains of the Fold. There were many songs sung about the face their kingly brother made when he saw them arriving! Needless to say, they were allowed to ride again. This story could explain the existence of an old “Wolf” clan in the East, where a wolf would have a positive association. The later doings of Wulf Fréca's son's would however bring confusion and some prejudice around the wolf imagery, as we will see in Chapter 3… Fun fact, Gleyma’s name comes directly from the verb “to forget” in Old Norse! I know that there’s no canonical link between Rohan and Old Norse culture, but… I needed a G name, it sounds cool and I find it VERY fitting for an unnamed lady of Rohan! Gykka just… sounds cool. Digression time!!! This idea came to me from one of the both stupidest and cleverest things I’ve probably ever done. As I’ve mentioned before (but never actually expanded upon), I worked one summer as a mounted shepherd in Iceland. It was completely hectic, many adventures and freak outs ensued. But one day, as I was pretty much alone at the farm, there was a storm brewing and I had to bring in 12 horses who were grazing on a large pasture. Usually, this would have been done by rounding them up on foot, as they understood the drill and knew the way to the stables. But that herd had just had the addition of two new members, including a VERY strong-willed gelding, and there was a war for leadership with the former strong man of the group. Therefore, instead of sticking together, the herd was acting like magnets repelling each other. On top of that, the ground was muddy, watery and uneven, impossible for me to run in, and the wind was howling so loud that my yells were getting lost. I tried so hard to lead these horses in, but there was no way it would work, and I was left in the middle of the pasture with 12 horses completely ignoring me and fighting amongst themselves. That’s when I thought: I know SOMEONE who can run in this and knows how to herd a non-cooperative group… I went in and took Grímur, the madly enthusiastic Border Collie. I looked at him, he looked at me, he understood. Five minutes later, the horses were safely in the barn. DON’T EVER DO THIS!!!! Dogs must never learn that they can herd the horses! They are there to herd the sheep! You don’t want a dog to start “herding” a horse as you are on the saddle! This is dangerous! If anyone had seen me that day I would have been crucified and left for the puffins to pick my bones clean. But… I was alone on the farm, the wind was howling, the horses were mad, and Grímur was there. And the wolves of Firien were there for Gykka and Gleyma.

‘Here was woven (…) queen Herumë the Brave rousing the courage of her late husband’s men before a last victorious stand against grimacing Dúnlendings’ This one is self-explanatory! Herumë would have been Walda’s wife. My goal when writing what would be Rowena’s references when thinking of the great ladies of the Mark was to include a diversity of stories. I wanted to include a shieldmaiden, but not ONLY shieldmaidens. And I wanted beautiful, artistically talented princesses, but not ONLY pretty princesses. As much as I did not want to represent a stereotype of passive femininity, I wished to avoid the opposite pitfall, which would have been to show that the only way for women to be remembered was to adopt the traditional qualities and activities of men. Women can be remarkable, strong, independent, clever, AND be women! And they deserve to be remembered as such.