FicWad

Theodred lingered in the stable, absently combing his fingers through his horse's mane. It wasn't fair. Always he found himself wanting to ride with the Rohirrim, chasing orcs and evil from his homeland. Always he found himself wanting to feel the rush of wind and the excitement of battle. Yet always, always his father refused his requests. You are too young. There is too much danger. These things would Theoden say, the division between soldier and son unclear. Little did they appease Theodred's spirit. It was long before Theodred heard his father's unspoken words. You are too dear to me.