The heir of Théodred
Chapter Three
"Théodwyn sit down!" A furious voice echoed through the corridors. " And take off that cloak it reeks of horse."
"Don't call me Théodwyn!" Another voice, equally as angry, followed; the sound carrying all the way to the grand hall where many courtiers stopped to listen.
"I will call you by your royal name as regrettably you are a royal, now sit down and..." A strangled cry sounded, followed by a child's laughter. There was a pause in which everyone waited with a smile to see what the little scoundrel had done next. "That was my only copy of the..." But what it was the young princess had ruined none could tell as seconds later a door flew open and a whirlwind of energy blew past them all heading for the main door out of the Golden Hall.
"Hold it right there." Eyes flew to the other end of the hall once more and they fell on an amused-looking Lothiriel. Behind her the lore master skulked into view with a murderous expression plastered on his ageing face. "Come here and apologise to Master Éorelson." Mayda became the subject of attention once more. She was stood poised to scarper through the open door, eyes narrowed with ferocity at her nemesis, but eventually she stood down and stalked across the hall; those she passed turned on her with fond expressions. The Rohirrim had been shocked to find out that their great king Théoden had had an heir, and were even more shocked when they found out this heir had turned down the rule of Rohan. However, none were disappointed; Éomer was turning out to be as great as his uncle and all were happy with his reign.
In the two weeks that the seven-year-old had been living in Edoras she had built up quite a reputation for herself. After washing away the mud, and coaxing away the timidity, the innocent sweet girl had turned into a veritable rascal. A rascal that was loved by almost all nonetheless and she loved her new life and everyone in it, save the lore master who she was convinced had a personal vendetta against her and was out to make her life miserable. Little did she know, he felt exactly the same about her. The young girl did not like to be cooped up indoors learning of the history of Rohan and would do anything to get out of her lessons. As on this occasion, the little scoundrel had 'accidentally' knocked a torch onto his desk.
As the child reached her aunt her expression begged to be let off, but the young queen was having none of it and she shook her head firmly. So Mayda turned on Master Éorelson and bowed her head slightly.
"I'm sorry for burning your scrolls," she uttered bitterly. Several chuckled around the room, making Master Éorelson even more outraged. Eventually the lore master glared at her furiously before stalking off. Mayda stuck her tongue out after him and turned to skip off to freedom.
"Not so fast you," Lothiriel said fondly and she took her niece's hand and led her away, hoping that the child would ignore the cheers that followed them. Mayda however, did not possess any sense of modesty and she turned and bowed to the delighted courtiers. They cheered even louder as Lothiriel ushered her from the Golden Hall. "Well," she eventually exclaimed, though she could not hide her amusement.
"I don't like him!" Mayda hissed angrily kicking at a piece of thatching sending it flying across the valley aided by the strong wind that was battering the village.
"Well I dare say my darling that he feels the same way," Lothiriel said. Mayda sighed and shook her head.
"Why do I need to be taught by him? I mean can't I just sit in the library and read when it rains or something like that?" she asked pleadingly. She loved the library, perhaps it was being in the presence of the next best thing to her father: a life-size painting of him. Often she could spend entire days immersed in books or journals left behind by Théodred when the weather was foul. It would seem that her father had been quite the writer, and had secretly kept a journal of some form or other since he was a young teenager. Mayda loved to read them. It was in fact from the ones from his youth that she gained ideas for her practical jokes. They were evidently of like mind.
"You can't learn everything from scrolls," Lothiriel admonished gently.
"Well then why must I learn from him? He is terrible auntie Lothiriel! He wouldn't know fun even if the essence of all things funny walked up to him and...and...tickled him!" the child stated firmly, and within seconds a smile pulled at her lips.
'Obviously picturing it,' Lothiriel laughed inwardly.
"There is no other Scholar in Edoras right now Mayda," she explained. " They have all fled to Minas Tirith to educate themselves further." Mayda shrugged her shoulders meekly.
"Scholars are boring. Mamma took me to Minas Tirith once and we met several of these scholars," she told her aunt and she shuddered at the memory. "I have never been so bored in my life...save from when I am in Master stupidson's lessons. The people know more tales and stories than him aunt. Old lady Anhild tells me exciting stories all the time, and she makes even the boring parts fun to listen to." Lothiriel smiled even broader. Old lady Anhild was a fabled storyteller across the all of Rohan, it was not surprising that the little mischief-maker that was Mayda had found her way to the reputable old woman, who lived in a tiny hamlet several miles from Edoras.
Mayda had travelled all around once she learnt how to ride well enough to be on her way. Often Lothiriel had to send out several guards to fetch her once the sun was starting to set and she was not back for her dinner yet. Often she would head east and lookout for the return of the King and the Rohirrim. Mayda was desperately awaiting Éomer's return, almost as much as Lothiriel was. Together they would sit on the steps of the Golden hall, once the sun had gone down, waiting in silence for the sound of hooves, but as yet, they hadn't come.
"Either way darling, you must learn to stop vexing the lore master, or I will be forced to tell the stable-master to not let you venture out anymore," Lothiriel said and Mayda looked aghast.
"But auntie..." She stopped and looked incredibly humbled as footsteps approached from behind them. That could only mean one thing; there was only one person who had that affect on the girl.
"Eowyn," Lothiriel cheered before she had even caught sight of the now extremely heavily pregnant lady of Ithilien. Eowyn had a fake-smile on her face as she approached the two, though secretly she was wishing that she too could have a close bond with her cousin's child. Eowyn was very fond of Mayda, though she found it extremely difficult to express this. She had to rely on Lothiriel conveying her message for her, though Mayda did not believe a word she said. The child was convinced her rescuer's sister hated her, and it grieved her more than she could explain. For she had heard of Eowyn's deeds during the battle of the Pelennor fields, and she admired her more than she could put into words.
"Good morning," Eowyn exclaimed and she joined them on the windy steps. " Have you also come to see what rider approaches?" Mayda and Lothiriel looked to each other inquisitively before turning back to the plains. There was indeed a rider approaching with haste. The three of them made their way to the bottom of steps as the rider entered Edoras and made his way up to the Golden Hall. As he rode close enough to make out his features Mayda let out a gasp and she stumbled backwards and fell on the step. Lothiriel looked to her in surprise and helped her up as the rider dismounted and made his way to the ladies. He bowed and then turned on Mayda with an enchanting smile.
"Hello dear Mayda!" he said with affection. Mayda gulped and tried to step backwards once more, but Lothiriel was blocking her passage.
"Pardon me for asking, but who are you?" Eowyn asked, there was something about this rider that she did not trust, and judging from her niece's reaction to him, it was no unfounded. The rider straightened up and held his hand to his chest.
"I am Maydir, the brother of Mayda's poor departed mother." He hung his head and his face crumpled with distress for a moment, before he regained his composure and looked up again. "I was shocked to find upon returning to my home that my niece had been taken. I was not consulted by any on this and as her guardian I am outraged!" Mayda gave a shudder next to Lothiriel and she backed up into her aunt. Eowyn glanced at her trying to gain insight into what she was feeling.
" Where were you when the village was under siege?" Eowyn asked suspiciously. "She was left defenceless!" The rider looked threatened by Eowyn's questioning.
"I was helping to fight back the foul folk," he snapped. " Now I demand that you release my niece into my custody and we shall be on our way." Mayda shook her head and looked up to Eowyn desperately.
"It would seem that she does not wish to go with you," she stated and she moved to stand between the child and this rider. "Nor can we allow it, she is a princess of the Mark and as my cousin under my custody until my brother returns."
"I am aware of who she is and who that father of hers was," Maydir complained.
"Don't talk about him like that!" Mayda suddenly uttered angrily. Maydir bowed his head slightly.
"I'm sorry my child," he said and then he turned on Eowyn. " But you cannot deny a man his only family. I love this girl as if she were my own." Lothiriel stepped forward now and looked on Eowyn with questioning eyes. As regent the decision was hers and she could not think what her dear husband would do in a situation like this.
"We cannot just send him away," she said meekly. Eowyn looked to Maydir once more before nodding. Lothiriel nodded too and then stepped forward to the rider.
"Well then you must stay until my husband returns and you can take this matter up with him," she said. Maydir bowed gracefully once more.
"I thank you for your kindness my lady," he said and he turned on his horse. "Mayda, will you not help your uncle with his things?" he asked turning on the timid child. She shuddered slightly before nodding and pulling herself away from the safety of her aunts. As she drew level with Maydir he put his hand around her shoulders, and she looked up into the eyes she had thought she would never have to look into again. As they walked away Maydir dared to tighten his grip.
"A word from you girl and you will wish you had never been born," he hissed and Mayda felt old tears stinging at her eyes and old wounds screaming in pain. How had she ended back here?
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Chapter Three
"Théodwyn sit down!" A furious voice echoed through the corridors. " And take off that cloak it reeks of horse."
"Don't call me Théodwyn!" Another voice, equally as angry, followed; the sound carrying all the way to the grand hall where many courtiers stopped to listen.
"I will call you by your royal name as regrettably you are a royal, now sit down and..." A strangled cry sounded, followed by a child's laughter. There was a pause in which everyone waited with a smile to see what the little scoundrel had done next. "That was my only copy of the..." But what it was the young princess had ruined none could tell as seconds later a door flew open and a whirlwind of energy blew past them all heading for the main door out of the Golden Hall.
"Hold it right there." Eyes flew to the other end of the hall once more and they fell on an amused-looking Lothiriel. Behind her the lore master skulked into view with a murderous expression plastered on his ageing face. "Come here and apologise to Master Éorelson." Mayda became the subject of attention once more. She was stood poised to scarper through the open door, eyes narrowed with ferocity at her nemesis, but eventually she stood down and stalked across the hall; those she passed turned on her with fond expressions. The Rohirrim had been shocked to find out that their great king Théoden had had an heir, and were even more shocked when they found out this heir had turned down the rule of Rohan. However, none were disappointed; Éomer was turning out to be as great as his uncle and all were happy with his reign.
In the two weeks that the seven-year-old had been living in Edoras she had built up quite a reputation for herself. After washing away the mud, and coaxing away the timidity, the innocent sweet girl had turned into a veritable rascal. A rascal that was loved by almost all nonetheless and she loved her new life and everyone in it, save the lore master who she was convinced had a personal vendetta against her and was out to make her life miserable. Little did she know, he felt exactly the same about her. The young girl did not like to be cooped up indoors learning of the history of Rohan and would do anything to get out of her lessons. As on this occasion, the little scoundrel had 'accidentally' knocked a torch onto his desk.
As the child reached her aunt her expression begged to be let off, but the young queen was having none of it and she shook her head firmly. So Mayda turned on Master Éorelson and bowed her head slightly.
"I'm sorry for burning your scrolls," she uttered bitterly. Several chuckled around the room, making Master Éorelson even more outraged. Eventually the lore master glared at her furiously before stalking off. Mayda stuck her tongue out after him and turned to skip off to freedom.
"Not so fast you," Lothiriel said fondly and she took her niece's hand and led her away, hoping that the child would ignore the cheers that followed them. Mayda however, did not possess any sense of modesty and she turned and bowed to the delighted courtiers. They cheered even louder as Lothiriel ushered her from the Golden Hall. "Well," she eventually exclaimed, though she could not hide her amusement.
"I don't like him!" Mayda hissed angrily kicking at a piece of thatching sending it flying across the valley aided by the strong wind that was battering the village.
"Well I dare say my darling that he feels the same way," Lothiriel said. Mayda sighed and shook her head.
"Why do I need to be taught by him? I mean can't I just sit in the library and read when it rains or something like that?" she asked pleadingly. She loved the library, perhaps it was being in the presence of the next best thing to her father: a life-size painting of him. Often she could spend entire days immersed in books or journals left behind by Théodred when the weather was foul. It would seem that her father had been quite the writer, and had secretly kept a journal of some form or other since he was a young teenager. Mayda loved to read them. It was in fact from the ones from his youth that she gained ideas for her practical jokes. They were evidently of like mind.
"You can't learn everything from scrolls," Lothiriel admonished gently.
"Well then why must I learn from him? He is terrible auntie Lothiriel! He wouldn't know fun even if the essence of all things funny walked up to him and...and...tickled him!" the child stated firmly, and within seconds a smile pulled at her lips.
'Obviously picturing it,' Lothiriel laughed inwardly.
"There is no other Scholar in Edoras right now Mayda," she explained. " They have all fled to Minas Tirith to educate themselves further." Mayda shrugged her shoulders meekly.
"Scholars are boring. Mamma took me to Minas Tirith once and we met several of these scholars," she told her aunt and she shuddered at the memory. "I have never been so bored in my life...save from when I am in Master stupidson's lessons. The people know more tales and stories than him aunt. Old lady Anhild tells me exciting stories all the time, and she makes even the boring parts fun to listen to." Lothiriel smiled even broader. Old lady Anhild was a fabled storyteller across the all of Rohan, it was not surprising that the little mischief-maker that was Mayda had found her way to the reputable old woman, who lived in a tiny hamlet several miles from Edoras.
Mayda had travelled all around once she learnt how to ride well enough to be on her way. Often Lothiriel had to send out several guards to fetch her once the sun was starting to set and she was not back for her dinner yet. Often she would head east and lookout for the return of the King and the Rohirrim. Mayda was desperately awaiting Éomer's return, almost as much as Lothiriel was. Together they would sit on the steps of the Golden hall, once the sun had gone down, waiting in silence for the sound of hooves, but as yet, they hadn't come.
"Either way darling, you must learn to stop vexing the lore master, or I will be forced to tell the stable-master to not let you venture out anymore," Lothiriel said and Mayda looked aghast.
"But auntie..." She stopped and looked incredibly humbled as footsteps approached from behind them. That could only mean one thing; there was only one person who had that affect on the girl.
"Eowyn," Lothiriel cheered before she had even caught sight of the now extremely heavily pregnant lady of Ithilien. Eowyn had a fake-smile on her face as she approached the two, though secretly she was wishing that she too could have a close bond with her cousin's child. Eowyn was very fond of Mayda, though she found it extremely difficult to express this. She had to rely on Lothiriel conveying her message for her, though Mayda did not believe a word she said. The child was convinced her rescuer's sister hated her, and it grieved her more than she could explain. For she had heard of Eowyn's deeds during the battle of the Pelennor fields, and she admired her more than she could put into words.
"Good morning," Eowyn exclaimed and she joined them on the windy steps. " Have you also come to see what rider approaches?" Mayda and Lothiriel looked to each other inquisitively before turning back to the plains. There was indeed a rider approaching with haste. The three of them made their way to the bottom of steps as the rider entered Edoras and made his way up to the Golden Hall. As he rode close enough to make out his features Mayda let out a gasp and she stumbled backwards and fell on the step. Lothiriel looked to her in surprise and helped her up as the rider dismounted and made his way to the ladies. He bowed and then turned on Mayda with an enchanting smile.
"Hello dear Mayda!" he said with affection. Mayda gulped and tried to step backwards once more, but Lothiriel was blocking her passage.
"Pardon me for asking, but who are you?" Eowyn asked, there was something about this rider that she did not trust, and judging from her niece's reaction to him, it was no unfounded. The rider straightened up and held his hand to his chest.
"I am Maydir, the brother of Mayda's poor departed mother." He hung his head and his face crumpled with distress for a moment, before he regained his composure and looked up again. "I was shocked to find upon returning to my home that my niece had been taken. I was not consulted by any on this and as her guardian I am outraged!" Mayda gave a shudder next to Lothiriel and she backed up into her aunt. Eowyn glanced at her trying to gain insight into what she was feeling.
" Where were you when the village was under siege?" Eowyn asked suspiciously. "She was left defenceless!" The rider looked threatened by Eowyn's questioning.
"I was helping to fight back the foul folk," he snapped. " Now I demand that you release my niece into my custody and we shall be on our way." Mayda shook her head and looked up to Eowyn desperately.
"It would seem that she does not wish to go with you," she stated and she moved to stand between the child and this rider. "Nor can we allow it, she is a princess of the Mark and as my cousin under my custody until my brother returns."
"I am aware of who she is and who that father of hers was," Maydir complained.
"Don't talk about him like that!" Mayda suddenly uttered angrily. Maydir bowed his head slightly.
"I'm sorry my child," he said and then he turned on Eowyn. " But you cannot deny a man his only family. I love this girl as if she were my own." Lothiriel stepped forward now and looked on Eowyn with questioning eyes. As regent the decision was hers and she could not think what her dear husband would do in a situation like this.
"We cannot just send him away," she said meekly. Eowyn looked to Maydir once more before nodding. Lothiriel nodded too and then stepped forward to the rider.
"Well then you must stay until my husband returns and you can take this matter up with him," she said. Maydir bowed gracefully once more.
"I thank you for your kindness my lady," he said and he turned on his horse. "Mayda, will you not help your uncle with his things?" he asked turning on the timid child. She shuddered slightly before nodding and pulling herself away from the safety of her aunts. As she drew level with Maydir he put his hand around her shoulders, and she looked up into the eyes she had thought she would never have to look into again. As they walked away Maydir dared to tighten his grip.
"A word from you girl and you will wish you had never been born," he hissed and Mayda felt old tears stinging at her eyes and old wounds screaming in pain. How had she ended back here?
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