Here is Ch 4. I still don't own anything except my original characters and the plot, and doubt I will ever own anything else.

[A/N] In the first chapter I said that one would need a very basic understanding of Sindarin, and I hold to that, but if I have to look up how to say something, it's only fair that I give you the translation. It's at the end of the chapter.

Thank you Cerridwen (twice) and Noriel for reviewing. J

-- CHAPTER FOUR --

What worries Eldarion had been harboring fled as new concerns filled his young mind. Particularly, how to spend the ten copper pieces Aragorn had given him at the fair that day. There were so many games to play and sweets to eat and toys to purchase that Eldarion feared he needed ten gold pieces, instead.

At least he had already managed to lose Tiri in the growing crowd of Minas Tirith's festive grounds. The old nurse was slowing him down as he tried to experience as much as possible. The young prince, full of royal bravado, felt no ill-tidings at being in the crowd by himself. A few of the womenfolk had given him small pieces of candy and cooed such gross endearments as 'what a sweet little prince' and 'my isn't he growing into a fine young lad.' Eldarion smiled politely, took his treat, and disappeared back into the crowds again, leaving the women to giggle about what a lady-killer he would be when he came of age. Eldarion rolled his eyes.

He came upon a makeshift ring where two men were competing in sword play. Eldarion was awed by their quick moves and strong hits, and decided that he was going to learn to use the sword in such a manner. If anything the guards said about Elessar's prowess with a sword was true, then his father was the perfect person to teach him. One man managed to strike the other with the dulled sword, earning himself a point. The crowd roared and Eldarion cheered along with them. He had climbed up on the wooden fence that created the ring so he could see better, and the point-gainer spotted him. "That was for you, your highness!" he announced, and Eldarion grinned widely, his eyes shining. The man managed to hit his opponent two more times, and he was declared the victor. Eldarion cheered as loud as he could, clapping still as the man was given his prize, a gold coin on a velvet pillow. The man walked over to the little prince, still grinning.

"Wonderful," Eldarion gushed. "I shall like to learn to wield the sword as you," he praised the man, eyes full of idol worship.

"There is none finer in the land with a sword than your father, little one. Only he can wield Andúril, the sword that was broken."

"I suppose that is true, my friend," Eldarion sighed. "He still thinks I am too young."

"Perhaps he is right," the man smiled softly. "I bet he thinks you are too young to be out in the crowd by yourself, as well."

Eldarion scowled. "I have seen nearly eleven summers. He worries more than Tiri."

"Your nurse?"

"Aye," Eldarion nodded.

"What say you, that I return you to your father, and then ask his leave to show you some lessons on the sword?"

"Truly you would?" Eldarion asked, his eyes lighting up again.

"I shall ask, though he may still say no," the man confirmed.

"Then I agree, under one condition," Eldarion said.

"What is that, little prince?"

"That you tell me your name, so I might remember the great sword fighter."

"Happily, milord. I am Rowland, the blacksmith."

"A blacksmith?" Eldarion exclaimed. "Made you your sword?"

"Aye," Rowland nodded. "Though it is dulled for competition."

"Perhaps I shall some day become a blacksmith, then," Eldarion decided. Rowland laughed and shook his head. He took Eldarion's hand and started through the crowd to where the King and Queen were watching the archery contest.

"You are destined for far greater things than the life of a blacksmith, my friend," Rowland told him. They reached the grandstands where two guards watched the steps up to where the royal family was sitting. Rowland bowed to the guards, and then said, "I seek to return Prince Eldarion to his father."

"That is good, for the Queen frets about his safety," the guard answered, smirking slightly at Eldarion's annoyed look.

"Come, Rowland, meet my father," Eldarion said, tugging on his hand. Rowland held back slightly, glancing at the guards.

"It is not my place to go up there, little prince. 'Tis only for the royals."

"Nonsense. You are my friend," Eldarion argued. "Ada shall be pleased to meet the best swordsman in his country." One of the guards raised an eyebrow and Rowland shook his head, blushing slightly. Just then, the sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs attracted their attention. All looked up to see King Elessar himself standing on the third step, relief evident on his face.

"I thought I heard your voice, hênnín," Aragorn said. "Tiri is quite frantic. She searches for you now." His tone was light, but there was still a note of reprimand. Eldarion scowled at the mention of his nurse, but was smiling again a moment later.

"Ada, this is Rowland the blacksmith, and a champion swordsman!" Eldarion introduced the man standing behind him.

"Well met," Aragorn nodded.

"Very well met, my King," Rowland bowed low. "I return the prince to you. He was watching the sword fights unattended."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Aragorn grumbled under his breath. He shot Eldarion a Look. The boy was unfazed.

"Rowland won, Ada!"

"A simple match, my liege. Not the whole competition," Rowland corrected, with a blush.

"Do not be so modest, my friend," Eldarion told him. "He won a gold coin, you know," he informed his father.

"Congratulations," Aragorn told Rowland.

"Rowland, ask my father what you would," Eldarion insisted, excitedly. "Say yes, Ada, saes!"

"What is it that you would ask?" Aragorn inquired, shushing Eldarion.

"The young prince has expressed interest in learning the art of sword fighting, milord. Given your leave, I would teach him a few things." Rowland bowed again.

"I shall remember your offer, but right now Eldarion is yet too small to use such a great weapon," Aragorn replied. "Perhaps in a few years your offer might still stand."

"Of course, milord. I would be honored." Neither paid any attention to Eldarion who stood next to his father, arms crossed, and pouting like an expert.

"Good luck in the rest of the sword competition," Aragorn bowed slightly.

"Thank you, King Elessar," Rowland bowed lowly, then smiled at Eldarion. "Until we meet again, my Prince."

"Aye, good luck my friend," Eldarion grinned. Aragorn took his hand and pulled him up to where the rest of the royal family was sitting. When they reached the top level, Arwen looked over, relief that surpassed Aragorn's on her face.

"Eldarion Aragornion," she scolded, "carú prestanín sui sen ad."

"Sorry," Eldarion mumbled. Arwen's face softened and she pulled the boy to her in a hug.

"Come, let us watch the archery. Save your apologies for Tiri." Eldarion sat next to his mother, not looking forward to meeting with his nursemaid. He glanced at the people sitting in the private stands; his mother and father, Shalay, Almia, Niphredil, Faramir and Éowyn, and a few of Arwen's ladies.

"Ada, where is Legolas?" Eldarion asked curiously. "Is he not in the archery competition?"

"No," Aragorn told him. "It would not be fair if the finest Elvish archer were to compete against mere mortals." There was a laugh in his voice and Eldarion smiled widely.

"I shall be the finest archer someday," Eldarion informed his father. Aragorn raised an eyebrow.

"What happened to sword fighting?"

"I shall be the best in that, as well."

"You dream big, Eldi," Aragorn chuckled. "That is good. Legolas and Gimli will be here shortly, I think."

"Okay."

Nearly half an hour had passed since Eldarion rejoined his father, and he grew bored of watching archery. He tugged on his father's sleeve, begging to be allowed to wander through the fair again. Aragorn only would agree if Eldarion took Tiri with him, and gave his word that he would not run off. Eldarion grudgingly promised, much to the dismay of the nursemaid who had returned fifteen minutes prior. The two left the stands, and Eldarion still clutched his ten copper pieces in a tight fist.

*

"Watch yourself, Master Dwarf," Legolas laughed, "or I shall lose you in this crowd of men who are much taller than yourself."

"'Tis not I that am too short, but they who are too tall!" Gimli argued, causing his friend to chuckle mirthfully.

"That may be so, elvellon, but it still makes it difficult for me to follow you."

"What is that you always say about the keen eyes of the elf, Legolas?" Gimli taunted, not slowing down at all. He continued to shove through the crowds of people.

"Much keener eyes than you I have, Gimli, but I can not see through things," Legolas retorted, trying to squeeze between the people with slightly more respect for their personal space. They came to a small break in the crowd, and could now see more than a foot in front of themselves.

"Say, isn't that Aragorn's boy?" Gimli asked, pointing at the youth that was pulling an older woman towards the edge of the fair.

"Eldarion, yes," Legolas answered. "An his poor nursemaid, as well."

"Poor is right, I say," Gimli laughed. "If one should ponder Aragorn as a child, they would only have to observe Eldarion."

"True," Legolas replied. They watched Eldarion step up to a booth, which he seemed to have found with the help of one of its workers, as it was somewhat out of the way from the rest of the fair. The squirrelly looking man encouraged the youth to step up to the booth, and in exchange for one of his copper pieces, the man gave him three large stones. Legolas surmised that the object of the game was to knock three tins off of a shelf with the stones, and win a prize.

"He could work on his throw," Gimli commented after Eldarion missed the first toss by at least a foot.

"Aye," Legolas agreed. His second throw was slightly closer.

"Third time's a charm," Gimli mused. Unfortunately, this didn't prove true, and Eldarion missed again. The boy's face screwed up in frustration. A brief conversation with the worker followed, and then Eldarion stepped around the front of the booth to get a closer look at the prizes. "Must be nice to be a prince," Gimli snorted.

"Hm," Legolas replied absently, his eyes narrowing as he watched the booth. There was a slight movement to the left, and then suddenly a darkly dressed man jumped out and grabbed the boy, shoving a rolled up bit of cloth into his mouth.

"Eldarion!" Tiri, the nursemaid cried out, trying to rush forward, but the other worker hit her hard, sending her sprawling to the ground.

"Gimli!" Legolas exclaimed to the dwarf who was already running towards the booth. The dark man easily picked up the squirming boy and disappeared behind the booth again, probably to an alley. The worker followed after him. "Attend to the nurse and get word to Aragorn! I will follow Eldarion."

"Go with speed!" Gimli told him. Legolas started after the dark man and his coworker, hoping he hadn't already lost his quarries.

tbc…

carú prestanín sui sen ad = do not worry [lit. disturb] me like this again