DISCLAIMER: Most characters (Prince Imrahil, Éowyn, Théoden, Faramir) are from the book Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkein (including the elvish) and I give full credit of them to Mr. J.R.R. Tolkein, but the rest are sincerely created by me.
Auuthor's Note: Silad, mellon nin!! Read fast and may you enjoy it whilst you do. *grin*
Of Silver Roses.
"Mother tell us about Maylan of the Rohirrim, the bards don't tell it just they way you do." Feram pleaded, his tiny hands clutching at her skirt.
"Yes, yes. Tell us, tell us," cried Elwyn stopping momentarily from catching imaginary butterflies.
Éowyn, Princess of Ithilien, laughed at the antics of her children.
"I don't know why you like it so much, it happened a long time ago. Come."
She walked them into her garden by the stream, white shift bright in the morning sunlight. The flowers bloomed in the small glade and she sat with them on the mossy ground letting the children rest their heads on her lap and began her tale.
"Maylan was once a young girl in Rohan who loved her freedom as much or even more than her father. I knew her as a headstrong girl, but with a deep understanding. She was quite beautiful, like the mother she never new, and this is her story, a story of how love can be stronger than death…
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"Last one home is orc fodder," I called to Harlem, starting to run through the rocks and open grassy fields of Rohan. I laughed, blissfully carefree, and held my kilted skirts away from snags that would slow me down. The doors of Edoras were not far ahead and my friend was gaining fast. I saluted the gate warden when I passed and kept running up the earthen streets, dodging horses, wagons, people before collapsing on the doorstep of my home. Harlem caught up, breathing hard.
"I bet – you could – run faster – without them skirts on."
"Yes I could, but then I'd have to face them with breeches on." I made a face. "You know how they are." I stared around and thought of the past years where growing uncertainty and warfare had returned to our lands.
"The fields be to dangerous now and so I think that was our last race home Harlem, dark times are coming." I sighed.
Footsteps warned of another person's arrival. I sat up and pushed back the wisps of brown hair that flew free of my pins. My father came around the corner of a thatched house, his large frame bent slightly against the wind, and approached us. I stood up to greet him, nervously smoothing my crumpled skirts. He glanced at me, eyes hard.
"Maylan, come with me." I looked at Harlem, who had the grace to look concerned and sighed, trotting after father. Often when he would ask me to accompany him and it usually meant there was work to be done or a talk to be made.
"Where are we going?"
"The stables." I followed behind him like the vigilant daughter when in truth I felt like sprinting the other way. We passed the great house of Meduseld and I squared my shoulders. I would at least seem to be the naïve maiden I was not when going by our Kings home. Though, my maidenly behaviour needed working on. We turned down a broad lane and used the back entrance into the stables and training area.
"Get your staff, the one with the sharp tip. We will practice your defence then attack," he stated.
I groaned inwardly. Today was for my training. No one else uses the staff, but it seems I am an exception. I walked over to the racks and found my staff underneath all the swords, sheaths and long bows, which I looked at with painful longing, and came into the training arena. I was not allowed to carry my weapon with me out in the open, yet here I was able to practice. I took up the correct stance in the middle of a small training yard and waited for my father to bark orders from the side rail.
"Ready! Lunge, twist, right thrust, sweep for their legs and drive behind. Swing over head, jump, lunge, crescent and upward slash."
We drilled well into the evening, often changing the routine, till I was pouring with sweat, but I didn't falter nor did I think about how sore I would be tomorrow. I had not trained so hard in a long time. Father was preparing me for battle, but I could not see the point when my opponent would probably have a sword and all I had was a strong piece of wood with a sharp blade on the point. I might as well be defenceless. Father disagreed, saying that if I used it right I would be able to defeat them. Though I would not be in any momentous battle like the shield maidens of old, there was still a chance I may have to protect my house from raiders, since women were not allowed in the Eored's. Sometimes I fought against him with padded armour or just drilled and on rare occasions I bested him.
It was a long time before we stopped and I was exhausted, my limbs aching with a dull pain that would be ten times worse tomorrow.
"You have done well tonight," my father said resting his large, calloused hand on my shoulder. He looked uneasy, like a great burden weighed on his mind. "There is something we must talk about tomorrow," he looked away. "Come, it is late and you are weary."
The next day I was sent to help with the cleaning of the large stable so my morning was occupied and most thoughts were suspended so I could concentrate on the task at hand. My muscles screamed at even the slightest movement, protesting of heir abuse the day before, but I ignored it as well as I could. I took my luncheon to the Inner Square, hoping to find Harlem. Perhaps he could give me some insight into what my father wanted to tell me. I stayed longer than I should have, but it was in vain for he did not come and I was reprimanded for loitering. Walking home I started biting my fingernails, a nervous habit, my heart was telling me that I would not like what I was bound to hear, yet my head reasoned that this was nonsense. Still my nerves were on edge and I could barely concentrate on my work.
It was after dinner and I was sitting with my father in the small kitchen when he decided to tell me, his voice gruff and proud.
"Daughter, you are young and have long known that our beloved land is protected from the evil by our valiant men. I am one such man and tomorrow I will ride to accost those who might spoil our lands and plunder our homes."
I swallowed hard, but I had not heard the least of it yet.
"We have had news of an orc band and a great number of warriors are needed for a victory. You have seen seven and ten years of a happy life away from most conflict and yet if I do not come back I would want you to be well cared for. Perhaps I have been too lenient and have given you far more freedom than that of other maids, so you will not be prepared for the changes if I do not return. If I'm not one of those who come back you will become an attendant for Lady Éowyn. You will have to give up your ramblings with your friend Harlem and practice the arts of the staff no more. Instead mending and gentle speech shall be your assets and maybe in time you will wed."
I stared at the floor in disbelief. Medusal was the kings own home and strict was the laws for those that abided there. My spirit had always been free and this cage, this routine and monotonous lifestyle, might just break it. I could say nothing, all words of horror died on my lips, as none could explain the cataclysm if my father did not come back.
"You are my daughter and I love you with all my heart. You have courage, remember it and always know that I'm with you. Maylan, this may not come to pass and I know it distresses you, but if I live all shall be well."
I swallowed. My father, a man of honour and duty to his people and his King, would fight to whatever end. He knows my pain yet he will not change this sentence, thinking only of my wellbeing not my heart. I gathered my tattered wits together and spoke.
"When will you ride out?" My voice was hoarse.
"Early morning and we were told to say our farewells this evening," he came across and kissed my forehead. "It may not be as bad as you think, sweet, but let us hope I come home and then we shall not speak of this again."
I nodded and walked blindly to my room. There I found comfort in crying myself into a restless slumber as my father would go with the sunrise.
* * *
The next morning dawned and I watched most of our gallant men, my father included, ride out of the gates and strained my eyes as they rode far into the fields of Rohan. The last I saw of them was sunlight gleaming off their polished armour. I stood on the walls for most of the day, till well into the evening, alone in my thoughts.
Apart from helping with the stables, of which my father was the guardian, my days were occupied by watching for riders on the horizon and eight days passed in the same way. Harlem would often visit me on the walls, and since I was often lonely it gave great comfort. He would be still covered with ash and soot from the forge where he worked, being a blacksmith's son and apprentice. That is probably why I was one of the first to see the rays of the afternoon sun reflecting off the lances and helms of those returning to Edoras.
Far off, I heard the voices of the host raised in a victorious song.
The dawn has come to light a brighter morrowA price was paid, but gladly won
Yet our hearts are not without sorrow
We ride back to a comely heart, a home and hearth
A feast is upon the table laid
Ride now, speed past the earth.
A horn was sounded and the streets quickly filled to watch them ride home, to glory, yes, but at what price?
I waited at home; my father would soon come there, if he had come home at all. It was not long after the people scattered that a polite knock was issued at my door. I swallowed hard and, fearing the worse, opened it to reveal the Forth Marshal of Riddermark, Joquin. He carried a sword with him and standing on the threshold he spoke to me of my father's death.
"Your father was a hero, Lady Maylan. He died valiantly and is now at peace in a grave that is honoured in song and stone. I give you his sword as a last request he had of me, for you to have it." He handed me the sword in its sheath and I drew it forth. I recognised it immediately; the weight, the worn hilt, the smooth blade. "I believe he wanted you to become an attendant for the Lady Éowyn and she has given her consent. Tomorrow you will be relocated to Meduseld and you do not need to bring many items, as all will be provided for you. Use this time wisely." He nodded politely and was gone. I was left alone with my grief and the solitude hit me like wall. I put the sword on to a desk and it was all I could do to run for the forges and find Harlem.
"Harlem? Harlem!" I called as I ran into the forgery. I looked around desperate and spotted him working the bellows of a large forge. At a swift nod from his father he was able to talk with me.
"Harlem, I don't know what I'm going to do as they are putting me in the Great house and everything's going wrong and you must help me as I don't want to go but it's against father's wishes and I won't be able to see you again and oh Harlem why did he have to die?" I sobbed, weeping into his ash stained shirt.
"Hush, it won't be that bad will it?" He said, holding me tightly.
"It will be worse than death!" I whispered vehemently and reluctantly pulled myself together. "I only came to say goodbye, but Harlem, I shall miss you." I embraced him tightly, and finally gaining control of my emotions, stepped away. "Now don't go getting yourself killed gloriously in battle," I tried a weak smile, "I will never forgive you if you do."
"It will be alright you'll see," he said and then wiping my tears I left him to get back to his work whilst I tried to pack those few belongings I could take with me.
* * *
I think the morning shared my mood as grey clouds swept in from the West, threatening rain. My emotions had finally died down to leave me feeling cold resentment. They came for me around mid morning, they meaning a door warden for the hall of Meduseld and a young Rider of the Mark. As I walked away I turned back for one last glimpse of what was once my home and it seemed to me that the world dimmed and my soul cried.
The doors of Meduseld were opened and I followed the men into a chamber to the right of the great hall. There sat the Lady Éowyn, her hair unbound fell glittering like gold about her shoulders and she was clad in white coth that was heavily embroidered. I was at once clearly aware of my patched and well-worn clothes and unruly bundle of brown curls. I bobbed a slow curtsy and looked up to meet her stare. Her eyes were grey and hard yet I sensed a deep compassion that hid itself behind a mask of coolness. She looked forbidding and stern and I almost believed the rumours of her wishing to ride into victorious battle; almost.
"Welcome Maylan daughter of Nevan, to Meduseld. I believe your father wished for you to become one of my attendants and I have agreed most willingly," she rose from her seat. "Life will be different here, but I am assured that you will, in time, think of Meduseld as your home."
"I can only hope, my lady," I said, my voice flat and emotionless.
The sound of my voice made her peer more closely at her attendant to be. I could see that she noted the grief in my otherwise emotionless face and the shadowed eyes of one who has lost everything and has nothing to gain.
"Come," her voice was softer now with sympathy, "I will show you what is to be done in my service."
I followed her, passing many booths and lodgings in the dark, torch lit passageways, the silence was almost palpable as even our footsteps were muffled on the cold stone. We came to a very small room with a bed and tiny table as its only ornaments.
"Put your belongings here as this is where you will sleep," she pointed to a door in the wall, "and through there is my chamber."
Then turning swiftly she went out of the room beckoning for me to follow. We came to a chamber and inside were a hearth and table. The walls were lined with tapestries showing pictures of great battles that were once fought, long ago in an age remembered in nought but song. Éowyn gestured at a seat and sitting carefully she told me of my duties as an attendant.
"When I wake you shall wake too and help me with my chores. I wait on King Théoden as his steps falter and weariness becomes an ally and at these times you will help others in the House. When I may be present to eat at King Théoden's board you may wait on me otherwise you are free to have your meals where you wish. Every afternoon you are allowed an hour to walk in the garden of Meduseld, but leaving the House is forbidden as I may have need of you."
Our one-person conversation continued well into the evening as rules were set down for times for meals and lights and feasts. I didn't listen much, only stared at the tapestries and every now and again nodded my head in agreement to something I hadn't even heard. At last I was roused with a question,
"You must be tired, do you wish to retire and I will have a meal brought to you before you rest?"
I looked up. "Thankyou, my lady."
The meal came and I ate it gratefully, sipping the warm soup. I was wearied by my grief and the thought of living my life in a monotonous routine in a cage. I didn't remember when I finally fell asleep, but when I did it seemed as though I only slept for minutes before being woken with a gentle shake by Lady Éowyn. It was indeed a dull day, the third after being told of my father death, and I seemed to be viewing it from another person's eyes. The pain I held and the feeling of losing something I had loved greatly, my father, tore at my soul. I became reclusive, barely speaking and the hour outside was spent sitting in the sunshine, letting my tears fall like crystals into my hands; the only time I would weep. Lady Éowyn was kind, but it felt more like charity and pity to one who desired neither. I was given new garments to wear and they were fine, the same cloth used for our nobles and I was allowed to keep my other clothes. It wasn't until the fifth night in my tiny room that I was abruptly torn out of my misery.
At home I would often see the star and moon light stream through my window and onto my coverlet, making it into a silver cloth. I used to leave the window barely open so just a small breeze could waft into my room. I was awake for a long time just staring into the darkness of my chamber when I realised I could see no silver light nor feel the chill wind. At once the room stifled me, I felt the walls closing in and the darkness overwhelming my senses. Thankfully I fell unconscious and slept for the remainder of the night.
When I awoke I looked about and saw there was no window here, only cold stone and I wished with all my heart I was back in my home. I contemplated what to do about my predicament and thought that if I could get out somehow and be back before Lady Éowyn awoke it would stop the terrifying feeling of drowning in darkness.
As night fell that evening, I kept my candle alight past the time it was supposed to be blown out. I wrapped myself in a dark cloak and opened the door into the adjoining hallway. Creeping silently to a back door I slipped out and extinguished my candle, hiding it under some foliage. I breathed in the fresh air and ran like a wraith to the stables, it was there I would sleep. Passing by the racks I saw my staff and my fingers itched. Looking both ways I reached forward and pulled it free, finding comfort in its solid weight. I checked the arena for people and seeing there was none I tore off my cloak and took the starting stance.
"Father, guide me," I whispered.
I began the familiar routine, twisting the staff in a smooth forward motion and was surprised when I heard a tearing sound as my nightdress tore up one side. I laughed, the first time in days and strange to my ears, and continued, the rip giving me extra freedom of movement. I lunged with an attack and swept around to the crescent motion. I could hear my father yelling his orders from the side.
"Jump, turn, slash, lunge across, back and bring down. Attack to the left, arc for the head."
The familiar movements distracted me and I wasn't aware of another person until I had finished my forth drill. He looked foreign and menacing in the half-light of the torches.
"Why be a lady out at this time of night?"
Uneasy about being found out I snapped at him,
"Why does a lady need to answer a foreign man? Who might you be, and what is your business here?"
He laughed a little.
"Well spoken. Please excuse my words they were said in haste. I am called Nemdalithe and I hail from Dol Amroth, by the sea." He paused and I said nothing. Mistaking my silence for encouragement he spoke again. "My father is a great councillor there and my mother was an Elf of the Golden Wood. I have travelled nigh on two summers looking for my mother and I reside here in Rohan for but a little while. I had come out here to practice from lack of sleep. May I challenge you to a contest?"
I stared into his pale green eyes searching for hidden peril. I saw nothing but humour and curiosity so pointed out the rack of armour. To my amazement he brought out an intricately carved staff from underneath his cloak. I studied his attire; worn dark breeches and a grey shirt with an over vest which he took off along with his cloak. He looked about three years my senior, but with elven blood he could be older. I stretched my muscles and waited for him to cross into the arena. At last he stood before me a little taller than I was and took up the opening stance.
We began, testing each other, and once I was convinced that he knew what he was doing the battle became intense. I hit forward using the careful technique taught by my father searching for any error he made; he was faultless. We moved back and forward looking for ways to out do the other. I slipped in the sand, but regained my balance quick enough to block his blows. I swept for his feet and turned to try him from behind. Surprisingly agile he dodged my stroke and parried my next onslaught. I faltered again, my already weak muscles protesting at being used so harshly. He flicked the staff from my hands and I fell back.
"Very good," he said standing over me. He held out a hand to help me stand, but I had not given up just yet. Kicking my feet out I knocked him flat on his back and I grasped his staff from his surprised hands pointing its sharp tip at his exposed throat.
"Very good," I mocked him. "Yet I play to win."
I offered a hand and helped him to his feet. He chuckled softly and with a sigh slipped his hands around my waist. I panicked.
"I am not a kitchen maid to be tumbled when you wish. I am a lady of Meduseld," I stated, not liking his hold on me I broke free and ran, grabbing my cloak on the way. Once I left the arena I veered to the left and I climbed the steps to the hayloft.
I would rather have died, than to say that I was a lady of Meduseld even though I was, but I needed to use something to get away from an awkward situation. I heard him calling, saying he was sorry and watched as he left the stables. Then lying down in the hay, confused and sore, I fell asleep.
* * *
I was able to get back inside Meduseld before Lady Éowyn awoke, making sure my hair was free of straw and putting on a new nightdress and hiding the torn one.
Lady Éowyn came in earlier than usual and told me to dress hurriedly and in my clean gown. I followed her to the Great Hall where she stood behind King Théoden and I was told to stand beside her.
The great doors were opened and in strode Nemdalithe adorned in more regal garb. He bowed before King Théoden and introduced himself as Nemdalithe, Guard of Dol Amroth.
"I am here to request that a maiden of the name Maylan, daughter of Nevan, be released from Edoras to serve as an attendant for the Prince of Dol Amroth's sister."
I felt astounded and yet excited. Why me?
"Why Maylan?" asked Lady Éowyn, stepping forward.
For a moment Nemdalithe's eyes flickered to where I stood.
"She has got quick wit, is good with the staff and she has also been accepted as part of a High Household. All these things were requested by my liege to be found in one such girl and I have searched long. This will be as a sign of goodwill between our two cities."
"But her home is here!" cried Éowyn. I was quite surprised at her tone because I hadn't thought I meant so much to her. It was my turn to step forward.
"My liege and lady, Meduseld could never really be my home as Rohan holds too many memories of what could have been and what was. I speak not against my host who has been so kind, it is just that I fear that my life will be very short if I stay here any longer. I have no father and no relations and no bonds of kinship hold me in your service. I beg that you may let me leave to forget my past and create a new life for myself." I spoke with conviction.
King Théoden stared searchingly at me for a long while before making his judgement.
"You may go and I wish you well on your journey. Remember that Rohan is and always will be your home no matter how you may feel now. Éowyn, will you help her ready for the morrow, as Maylan will leave at dawn." He dismissed us with a wave of his hand.
Éowyn led me away and back to her chamber where she bade me sit.
"I am sorry to hear that you wish to leave and sorrier still that you see Rohan as not your home. I think, over time, I would come to see you as a younger sister, I sometimes think I already do, and maybe the duties would have been set aside. I understand the feeling that this house is a cage and at times the silence frightens me. Yet I envy you being able to travel this road of freedom and will not stop your going," her voice once soft turned bitter. "For I am to live a life of care and dread and no naught of the victory of battle,"
I gasped, "So the rumours, they are true?"
"Quite. I can wield a sword and ride. I wasn't surprised when Master Nemdalithe said you knew how to use a staff. You remind me a lot of myself when I was young, though I, unlike you, do not have the freedom of travel, which you will know. Come, it is time we started to pack for your journey."
I then saw Lady Éowyn in a different light, she no longer seemed fair and stern, but rather sad and lonely, the weight of tending till death heavy on her slim shoulders. I felt pity for she who was cursed with nobility and had never the hope of achieving her desires.
I was given a horse to ride and food for the journey and took my staff with me as I left from the stables. Lady Éowyn farewelled me at the doors or Meduseld and as a parting gift gave me a silver armband engraved with roses.
"It will remind you of Rohan and Edoras, the happiness in blooms and the sad as thorns," she whispered.
I met Nemdalithe at the gates, his garb changed into those of a traveller. A small gathering had come to witness our departure and I spotted among them Harlem. Calling to him he pushed his way through the crowd.
"Farewell Harlem, you will remain always my friend. Ask Lady Éowyn for the gift I have left for you, I hope that you will have no need to use it." I had requested that Lady Éowyn give Harlem my fathers sword as I had no use of it anymore, only as a painful memory. "Farewell."
We embraced tightly.
"Look after that fair face," he tweaked my nose, "and send word. Festhu!"(Go forth)
I mounted my horse, Calafire and at a word from Nemdalithe we rode out into the golden fields and for the first time in my life, I felt free.