Title: Daughter of Rohan
Summary: The daughter of Faramir and Eowyn embarks on a journey to run away from a situation that fate feels she must face. A post LOTR second generation fic.
Characters: Mostly OC; Laurelin, daughter of Eowyn and Faramir & Eldarion, son of Arwen and Aragorn (Elessar)
Genre: Action Adventure/Romance
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Wow, this is definently my oldest fan fiction. I started this when I was fourteen! For two years this has plagued my pen! However, at the moment, I am going through some hard core editing. I did not realize what a horrible reviser I was in Middle School. I cringe to think of the papers I must have handed in! Stick with me, gentle readers, for I shall update as soon as I doserious cutting and pasting on earlier chapters! New material shall come as soon as I appease my inner critic! I promise! Also, if you are wondering where chapter 2 went i merged it with chapter one!
The morning sun burned away what was left of the evening mist. A few last wisps drifted despondently along the grey green hills. Laurelin stood in the field to the east of the House of Rohan, letting the eastern breeze wash over her. She peered into the distance looking for any sign of a company on horseback.
Her mother would have had a fit if she had seen her out there barefoot and knee deep in dewy grass. Her horse Linad stood patiently grazing nearby. Laurelin shifted her weight from foot to foot. Nothing could be seen for miles. Legolas could probably see all the way to Minas Tirith.
Yet he was not there and neither was Gimli or her father, Faramir. They were off in Minas Tirith seeing to some unknown business. Laurelin's mother decided that she would take her daughter to visit Rohan during their time of absence. Rohan was the place of her birth and home of her brother King Eomer. Faramir's company sent word earlier that week that they return that morning.
Laurelin gave an exasperated groan and leapt back onto her horse. Linad replied softly with a comforting whiney and shook her honeyed head. Laurelin set the horse to a gallop back to the House, morning weaving its spell over the quiet earth.
Laurelin was the eldest daughter of Faramir and Lady Eowyn. She had been named for the younger of the Two Trees of the Valinor. Elvish legend told that the tree's leaves were so bright that they shone out into the world long before the sun and moon. Queen Arwen had opted idea when she was born, for Laurelin's hair had been sugary gold. Yet, as most children, the baby blonde curl fell out by the time she was two years of age. Now it had almost darkened to black giving her no resemblance to her namesake.
Laurelin could already hear her mother scolding for sneaking out before dawn and stealing several biscuits from the kitchen. After setting Linad up in her stall, she quietly slipped into the White Hall. The ripening sun poured yellow light through the windows to the east. She crept along the halls of her fathers trying to be as inconspicuous as a shadow."Where have you been gallivanting off to this morning, dear niece,"
Laurelin felt her insides cringe and turned to see her uncle's solid form in the shadows.
"To watch for the company. They gave word they would be riding home this morn," Laurelin spoke with half a grin.
King Eomer had fought along side her father in the War of the Ring at least twenty years before. His weathered face and tired eyes gave the impression of someone twice his age, but his smile brought youth back to his countenance.
"I will have a messenger come and fetch you when your father arrives. I believe it would be in your best interest to back to your quarters for the time being. I hear that your father brings a few guests with him." He replied walking up to her.
"Who?"
"The King Elessar and Queen Arwen," His eyebrows arched with his announcement.
Laurelin's heart dropped to her gullet. She had not seen the great king and queen since she was very young. Not meaning to be rude, just caught up in the moment, she sped off to her chambers with out a word. All was sent into an unorganized frenzy. Her handmaids looked about frantically for this dress or this comb, yet all the bedlam was well worth the effort. By the time a messenger was sent, Laurelin looked more like a Lady of the court than the wild horse girl she had been earlier that morning. Her dark hair still lay about her shoulders but braids were scattered here and there about it. Her mantel was white for the horses of Rohan, and about her neck was an oval emblem with a horse's tail.
She met her mother by the door of the grand hall. They were as different as the sun and moon in manner and appearance, yet they both held a fair, grave look in their eyes according to Faramir. They walked side by side toward the company who had just arrived. As King Eomer had said, the King Elessar and Queen Arwen stood along with her father. Laurelin held back her joy as long as she could as her father greeted her mother and uncle. When he turned to her and held his arms open, she could not contain herself.
Laurelin separated herself from her father and embraced Legolas and Gimli as well. She blushed when she realized the King and Queen had witnessed her childish antics. King Elessar had a noble brow, wrinkled with years of care, and his smiling mouth was wide with joy. His silver hair was thick with forgotten youth. Queen Arwen had not changed since she had last seen her. Laurelin wished she possessed some of the grace the Elven queen exuded. The Queen's hair was raven black and her eyes were a soft gray like the sky after spring rain.
"Eowyn, my friend. I pray you are well ," She said taking the former shield maiden's hands with a gracious smile.
"Dear queen, you are most welcome," Eowyn replied embracing Arwen.
Laurelin blushed deeper when she heard her name fall from the monarch's lips, "You have grown so since I last saw you, I pray you are in good health as well?" The queen inquired, wrapping her slender fingers around Laurelin's.
Laurelin had trouble finding her tongue in the presence of such a lady, but her father interrupted the meeting with his mahogany voice.
"I believe it shall rain soon by the looks of the sky. I think it would be wise to resign to the great hall where, my wife tells me, there is a great banquet waiting for us." He announced, hooking his thumb in his belt like a youth.
The company ascended the great stairs as the wind whipped at their cloaks, hair and gowns. Legolas and Gimli were Laurelin's dearest mentors. It was Legolas who had taught her how to shoot an arrow and speak Elvish. When she was fourteen he had taken her to the Forests of Mirkwood with Gimli and her father. She longed still to go once again. Gimli had taught her how to wield an axe properly and she had taught him how to ride upon a horse, which was an adventure the three still found mirth in. They had been her surrogate brothers, since Laurelin did not have any siblings. Laurelin spoke easily about them and felt she could tell or ask them anything, which she did often.
"What was this great important business that kept you three so long?" She whispered, lingering behind to walk with the elf and dwarf through the many-pillared halls.
"Soon, dear one, soon," Legolas responded giving Gimli a sideways glance over Laurelin's head.
The company entered the great hall to find what had been promised. There were two grand tables; a larger one at the center and another set upon a dais for the visiting royalty. Laurelin wished to sit with Legolas and Gimli to hear of their travels, but her father bade her to sit at the high table with them. Much to her distress she was seated beside Queen Arwen. She shrank beside such a grand and royal figure and found that her tongue worked no better inside than it had out. The queen saw her discomfort and tried to engage the nervous young girl in a conversation.
"My dear Laurelin, you have grown so very much since I last saw you," She said with an easy smile. Laurelin grinned back warily, "I see my proposal for a name did not go over well," She continued, "I fear you should have been called Morwen, by the looks of you now."
"The mother of Turin Turambar and the wife of Hurin Thalion?" Laurelin questioned.
"Why yes! Do you know what the name means?"
"Dark lady, am I correct?"
"Quite! I see that Legolas has versed you well in our lore and language. I should have thought more deeply about my suggestion when I gave it to your mother that day you were born." The Queen said, cupping the jeweled chalice in her pale hand. The hyacinth on the rim matched her gown.
"Oh but I like my name very much indeed, your highness!" Laurelin cried, "I would not change it."
"Good," Said the queen smiling wider, "I am glad you are content. But my dear, something troubled me as we were riding in. I could not help but notice there were not many horses about. I do wish to see the mounts of the Rohirrim once again. I do enjoy riding, though I do not get many opportunities these days."
Laurelin felt a gleam of hope. Perhaps the awkwardness she had felt around the queen earlier would soon subside. If this was to be an extended stay of theirs, that would be an advantage for her.
"Most of them were probably put in the stables. My uncle and father probably wished to show your highness and King Elessar the grand improvements that have been made there. If you wish, I could show you my horse Linad tomorrow," Laurelin realized she was rambling and bit her tongue before she seemed rude.
The Queen laughed at Laurelin's eagerness, "I would love to meet your horse and see these expansions to the building as well."
Faramir's loud voice suddenly interrupted Laurelin and Queen Arwen's conversation.
"Friends from afar and close to home," Said Faramir, "I have called your attention for the specific announcement of an event which shall hopefully take place soon in the next months. First, I would have my daughter stand." Laurelin nervously obeyed, curious as to her father's manner. "King Elessar and I have decided to set a bond between Rohan and the Reunited Kingdom that will forever tie the worlds of men. In the coming spring, the marriage of my daughter Lady Laurelin and the son of King Elessar, Prince Eldarion, shall take place to make a lasting bond between our families and kingdoms."
Coos of congratulation and approval rose from the center table. The regal women on the dais stood around Laurelin clapping.
Marriage? Who was Eldarion? She had not seen him since she was a tiny babe! Was this a farce? Laurelin fought the growing number of tears that choked her. The most hurtful part was that they were all celebrating this arranged marriage, all of the people she loved. She did not wish to marry a man she did not know, nor leave her home. Fear, anger and hurt lay on her tongue like bile
"What have you to say, my daughter?" Faramir said, raising his glass to her.
Laurelin looked at him numbly. The silence that descended was so thick it hurt to breathe. In the barren air a single word forced its way from Laurelin's lips and hung in the room like a spell.
"No."
"What was that, daughter?" Faramir's voice drifted like feathered cobwebs in the oppressive air.
"I said no, my lord," She answered turning to him with hurt eyes.
Her Father looked dismayed and lowered his cup.
"I believe the maid is too full of shock and mirth to understand. I wager she is-" Uncle Eomer tried to save the dying mood but it was too late.
"No." Laurelin interrupted firmly, "No, I fear I understand all too well. I am merely a pawn in this political exploit. You have had the luxurious advantage to marry for love but you have condemned me to a man I have never even met! Does he even wish to marry me as well?"
"Prince Eldarion was more than happy to marry you," Said her father sternly, "He knew his duty-"
"I do not want to be a duty; an obligation to someone! And I will not play the pawn!" She yelled last.
The silence that had drowned the room was now impenetrable. Not a soul breathed. Laurelin felt their eyes and could feel the anger and confusion growing in the nobles around her. It was too much for her to bear. She ran from the table, the room, from everyone. She ran till she found that her feet had taken her to the stables, her throat burning with unshed tears, betrayal and bile. She found Linad and stroked the horse's velvet nose while the realization of what had just taken place took hold of her. After that horribly embarrassing display in the hall, her family would shun her. Her mother might understand but her father would never look at her the same again and she him. What hurt more was the thought that her father had sold off his only daughter so easily without thinking of her feelings.
"Will you not come back and eat?" Said a voice.
Laurelin turned sharply. Legolas stood in the doorway, the sunset framing his tall outline.
"I felt ill." She replied turning back to Linad. She was in no mood for talk.
"I understand how you must feel, Laurelin-"
"Were you not a part of these agreements as well? Did you not have a hand in this?" Laurelin interrupted as walked up to the elf, "Do not speak to me of understanding, Legolas. Go back to banquet hall." Legolas' blue eyes were bright with hurt at her comment but she did not care. "No one can tell me whom to marry and whom not to," She said in a harsh, low voice, "I do not bend easily,"
Legolas put his hand on her shoulder, "I know that well, little sister." He said wearily, "But we all have obligations."
Laurelin pulled away from his touch, "Leave me be." She spoke walking past him and out into the night.
"Where are you going Laurelin?" He called after her.
She did not answer but knew her reply in her heart.
She ran back to her chambers. The royals still feasted in the dining hall and would not retire till late. She opened the trunk by her bed carefully to avoid any unwanted creaks that might erupt from the rusty hinges. She pulled out her father's old tunic, shirt, boots and leggings from the War of the Ring. After folding her elegant evening mantel, she slipped into the clothes. They were large and old but fit sufficiently to cover. She stood in front of her looking glass and scrutinized her reflection. She would not have to bind her small chest, but if she were to pass as a boy she would have to do something to her hair. Its long dark strands ran all the way down to her waist. She thoughtfully stroked it. She had always wanted to be rid of its weight, but now she felt reluctant. The last thing in the trunk glinted softly in the firelight. It was the elven dagger Legolas given to her father as a gift at the end of the War of the Ring. Charily, she drew it from its sheath. The cool steel of the blade rang softly of untarnished metal. She gathered her hair in a fist and ran the dagger through it. She threw the strands into the fire and watched as they curled and popped in the heat. She turned back to the mirror. Her hair now only went to her shoulders in scraggly tufts. It would have to do.
She put the dagger back in its sheath and slowly crept from the building, not looking back. She ran softly across the courtyard back to the stables. She would take no saddle for only Linad belonged to her, given to her by the Elves of Mirkwood upon their departure after their visit. They told her that Linad would do everything she commanded without a bridle or saddle. Leaning forward, Laurelin whispered softly in the horse's ear of her plan. Linad stood patiently listening then seemed to understand. She shook her mane and galloped from the stable out into the night.
Laurelin prayed they would not notice her absence till morning. By then she would be far away from this place. She did not where she was headed, but she was on her way.