Thank you so much for the reviews, I love getting them.
Cilmesse, good advice and after thinking about it you are of course right. I can't leave a big plot hole like that, so I hope this chapter solves the problem.
XxMoJo88xX – AU means Alternative Universe, basically means that what I write strays from canon (what Tolkien wrote)
lady scribe of avandell – Thanks for that, I had no idea, I always though the fourth age started at Aragorn's coronation. I've done a lot of reading around, but had never come across that.
The heir of Théodred
Chapter Four
Éomer and Faramir stood atop the outcrop feeling triumphant, and they had cause to do so. It had taken a month, but they had managed to drive many of the foul folk away and had diminished their numbers by at least half. The situation was no longer dire and they were beginning to think that perhaps now would be time to take a short break from the front and visit those dear to them in Edoras. Faramir particularly was feeling anxious to get back to his precious wife's side. Their child was due any day now.
"It has been a glorious victory," Éomer uttered as they watched over the villagers trying to piece together their fallen homes.
"Thanks to you we have saved many lives," Faramir added feeling slightly ashamed. It grieved him that he had to ask for aid the first time his princedom came under siege.
"Do not belittle your own deeds so readily brother," Éomer chided and the two men exchanged a smile ripe with friendship. They sat down on one of the jagged rocks and enjoyed the warmth the setting sun was basking them in. " We should return to Edoras, if not for a few weeks." Faramir nodded ardently.
"I cannot miss it Éomer," he exclaimed suddenly sounding fearful. Éomer nodded and clapped a hand on his brother in law's shoulder.
"And you won't," he said firmly. "I will not allow it. And also..." The king of the Mark looked quite bashful for a moment. "My sister would never forgive me if I kept her husband from her on such a momentous occasion." Faramir started to chuckle. "Oh do not jest, have you ever been on the receiving end of a horsewhip with her at the handle?" Faramir laughed out loud as Éomer rubbed his arm, apparently remembering just such an occasion.
"I can imagine that would be quite unpleasant," Faramir managed and his face turned wistful once more. "You too seem keen to return," he remarked. Éomer smiled weakly and shrugged his armour-clad shoulders. "Though I feel it is not merely to return to your lovely wife?"
"It is true that I am of course eager to return to Lothiriel, I still find it strange to wake up next to such a beautiful, kind woman and know that she is mine," Éomer explained and his eyes shone with affection for his new wife. "But you are right in your guess. I am so...I do not even know the word. It is a strange emotion, a mixture of worry, excitement and sorrow." Faramir nodded and recalled the look on Éomer's face after he had read the mysterious letter addressed to Théodred. "I know that Lothiriel has told me in her letter that she has declined the throne, but what if she changes her mind. What if she assents?" Faramir did not have the answers.
"There is one thing I do not understand," he said sounding thoughtful. Éomer looked on him questioningly, bidding him continue wordlessly. " Well I did not know that Rohan could be under the reign of a Ruling Queen, I have not heard of this before." Éomer grinned and shook his head.
"Ah, there my friend, is one thing all your posh libraries and your scholars cannot tell you," he said almost cheerfully. Faramir gave him a tired look and nodded.
"That still does not answer my question, and if you are going to refer to an old wives tale or a story you have written on a scrap of parchment in that..." He coughed. "Library of yours then I do not feel humbled for not knowing it." Éomer grinned once more and nodded.
"Not a scrap, a scroll my friend, a scroll!" Faramir returned his boyish grin and nodded.
"Close enough brother, but prey, continue."
"It tells of Helm Hammerhand's worries prior to the war with the Dunlendings," Éomer explained. " In this time his cousin Déored was beginning to spread word that he was eager to ascend to the throne should Helm and his sons fall in battle. Helm could not have this as Déored was not a very trustworthy character, and as his only sibling Hild had bore no children yet as she did not wed till late there was no other suitable heir. So what could King Helm do?" Faramir listened intently; he had never heard this tale before.
"He change the law?" he asked eagerly.
"That he did, he changed the laws of succession enabling Hild to succeed as Ruling Queen should he and his sons fall in war. Well as you know those unfortunate times were indeed his and he saw his house fall," Éomer said grimly, remembering his uncle's plight. "Hild became the Ruling Queen of the Riddermark, though she did not hold it long as she died in childbirth to her only child and son Fréaláf, who is well known for starting the second line of King's that I am a descendent from. Not many know that our laws state a Ruling Queen must be instated ere one can look to different alternatives."
"There has been only one? This Queen Hild was the first and last?" Faramir asked. Éomer nodded grimly, hoping that this still remained so. Faramir had no more questions and inwardly he was feeling slightly disgruntled that he did not know this historic tale.
"Come friend, we must turn to our attention to our captains. If we are to take a break from the front, they must be informed and ready to lead in our stead," Éomer said shaking off his gloomy reverie. Faramir nodded eagerly, thinking that perhaps he might soon see his glorious wife once more and daring to hope that perhaps he might see his first child born into this world.
X X X
"Mayda?" Lothiriel called out. Mayda lifted her face from the cold floorboards and listened out to her aunt's calls. "Mayda where are you?" The door creaked open and the small girl pushed herself even further into the gloom. "Are you in here darling?" Wanting to respond and reveal her hiding place, Mayda covered her mouth with her hand and fought away a torrent of tears. It seemed hard now to believe that she had been perfectly happy for two weeks.
Lothiriel upon seeing the empty room returned to the corridor and shook her head sadly. Eowyn sighed exasperatedly and managed to amble along the corridor, her hand firmly placed on her swollen belly.
"I am worried sister, I do not trust that uncle of hers, if indeed he is her uncle, he has not yet proven to us that his claim is in fact true," Eowyn grumbled.
"Come now Eowyn, Mayda has not given us any reason to doubt what he says," Lothiriel countered worriedly. Eowyn closed her eyes and shook her head, pausing to lean against a statue.
"Nor has she given us any reason to trust him!" she complained. " She has changed my friend, reverted back into the timid fragile little thing that she was when she first arrived. Even more so than when she first arrived. She doesn't even ride anymore!" Lothiriel nodded and shook her head.
"Perhaps our niece is suffering from a similar heart ache that you now feel Eowyn," she suggested. "Perhaps upon seeing her uncle she is reminded of her mother, as she reminds you of Théodred." Eowyn sighed dejectedly and nodded.
"Perhaps you are right, but I do miss that mischievous little scamp we had the pleasure of knowing so briefly," she uttered sadly and she gave Lothiriel a significant look. "She's even started paying attention in her lessons!" Lothiriel laughed out loud and nodded.
"Well sister, perhaps that is a good thing," she chuckled, but her mirth was cut short by heavy footsteps sounding from round the corner. Within moments Maydir had come into view and he was looking more cheerful than he had yet appeared to the ladies.
"Good morning my ladies," he cheered and he bowed his head to them. " Is my dear niece about?" Both shook their heads.
"I have sought her for over an hour, she may be off exploring," Lothiriel explained. Maydir smiled in a rogue-like manner and nodded.
"Yes she does rather take to exploring doesn't she? Well I must be off, I bid you have a pleasant day my lady," he said bowing once more to Lothiriel before heading off whistling a merry tune.
"You cannot slate him on his behaviour sister, by all appearances he is very much fond of his niece," Lothiriel remarked as she led Eowyn in the direction of her chamber. "And when I have seen them together she appears to return his affections."
"And yet I do not trust him..."
X X X
The door creaked open once more and Mayda caught sight of a heavy pair of boots. She cowered slightly and pulled herself right back into the wall. Her skin crept as though thousands of invisible spiders were crawling all over her, yet her back felt surprisingly tight as many old wounds were yet not totally healed.
"I know you're in here," a low raspy voice hissed. The boots paced the length of the room before finally stopping at the side of the bed. It was a sight Mayda had seen many times as she hit under various objects to get away from this man who ought to love her as a niece, yet instead cast her out of her own home to fend for herself and take up house in a garden shed.
The disowned brother of Maydithil, Maydir had been a frightful fellow in his youth and the once great Gondorian Lord Maydan could not bear to have such a deceitful and terrible son. So Maydir was disowned and forced to stay away. He did not dare come close when Maydithil remained the head of the house as she could call to her aid all in the village if he came near, but when the village was pillaged by orcs and his sister slain the shrewd Maydir returned to the estate to find his niece alone and grieving. He cared not and cast her aside inviting all manner of riffraff to the grand estate. Needless to say the child had to fend for herself and she was often called on by her cruel uncle to cook and attempt to clean the house. Being but a young child she could not do these things and was often beaten for her troubles. Her back was forever marred by the wrath of Maydir and his companions.
He had not dared lay a hand on her since coming to Meduseld, though she was well aware of what he was capable of and thus agreed to keep his sordid past a secret and to pretend they were close. Mayda longed for Éomer's return even more passionately, believing all her problems to dissolve when he returned.
"Get out, I know you're under there!" The bed shook as Maydir's boot connected one of the legs. Mayda bit her lip and wiped angrily at her eyes, before crawling out and getting to her feet. "That's better, now go and act normal. Go and play outside or something. That Eowyn woman doesn't trust me, I heard her!" He waved his finger around ludicrously, pointing accusingly at the door. It would seem he was also starting to lose his wits.
"But it's raining," Mayda whispered. "I never go out in the rain."
"Well you will today, now get going!" Maydir ordered and he took hold of the collar of her cloak and pushed her out into the corridor. The child didn't need telling twice and she ran off and finding a back door she jumped out into the drizzle. She crept down to the town wall and made her way to the entrance to Edoras. There were not many around as everyone was sheltering from the vile weather, so she was not hindered. Soon she was out in the wild and it stilled her heart. The walls had become awfully binding since the arrival of Maydir and she loved to take a few moments to escape.
She looked over to the small little hillocks and tears welled up in her eyes. Grasping her cloak around herself to fend off the wind she ran over to her father's grave and threw herself down on the howe.
"Papa," she cried into the grass and she ran her fingers over the weather- beaten simbelmynë flowers that covered the hillock. "Why did you have to die?" she yelled into the roaring winds. Of course, no answer came and she cried away her anguish. Though her pain was lost on the feverish winds that carried it to far away places where none knew her name.
She stayed like this for many hours, until at last the weather started to relinquish its hold on the village. Mayda rolled onto her back and looked up at the patchy clouds and tried to catch the rays of sunlight that kept sneaking out from behind the grey to bask the sodden child with warmth. This is how she lay when she heard the horn call.
Sitting up she looked around to see if she had imagined it, but no, many others were coming to look too and then, on the horizon Mayda's eyes fell upon a sight that could have brought tears once more to her face, but not tears of sorrow and pain, tears of joy.
"Uncle Éomer is returning!" she cried gleefully and she started to run towards the oncoming éored. Once she had reached a small outcrop she stopped and watched as the company of horses approached bearing the colours of Rohan. A horn-call sounded once more and she jumped up and down, giddy with anticipation. Within moments the riders were nearly upon her and they turned to the south of the small hill to get a better approach into the village. Once all had passed the child she started sprinting after them.
X X X
Lothiriel had only just about managed to help her sister in law to the doors of the Golden Hall when her eyes fell upon her beloved husband making his way up the steps to their home, accompanied by dear Faramir. She could not hold back anymore and she ran forward, throwing her arms around his neck, breathing in the familiar sent of his hair.
"My darling you have returned," she whispered fondly as she felt him kiss the side of her head. He pulled back and stroked her cheek, his eyes revealing what a hundred words could not. He embraced his wife once more until his eyes fell on his large sister.
"And not a moment too soon it would seem," he said sounding relieved.
The joy at seeing his wife still heavily pregnant was too much for Faramir and he ran forward stopping inches away from his dear Eowyn. He dared not touch her, lest he should harm their child. Eowyn though had more faith in the resilience of their baby and she pulled her sorely missed husband into a strong embrace.
"Thank you," Faramir whispered. Eowyn grasped him tighter.
"For what?" she laughed through tears of joy. Faramir pulled back and placed both hands on her swollen bump. He looked up at her with a child's wonder in his eyes.
"For waiting!"
Éomer looked around himself curiously. Where was this rascal his wife had told him about in her letter? Lothiriel guessed what he sought and she too wondered at where Mayda could have got too. Surely she could not have missed the horn calls, nor the sound of the steeds returning.
"Uncle Éomer!" a small voice cried. Éomer turned around trying to locate its owner, but to no avail. He thought his ears to be deceiving him when he heard the cry once more, this time though it came accompanied by several of the riders jostling out of the way. Éomer approached the commotion when all of a sudden a drenched little thing came pelting out of the centre of the éored directly into his arms. From the side a pair of eyes narrowed in anger and Maydir stalked away.
"Mayda? Why are you drenched?" Éomer asked the child that hung onto him and he tried to pry her off to get a better look at him, but she would not relinquish him so easily. Lothiriel too approached and felt the child's soaking garments.
"But my darling have you been out in the storm?" she asked sounding aghast. "Why would you do such a thing?" But Mayda did not answer her and she clung onto Éomer as though he might disappear into thin air, leaving the King of Rohan utterly perplexed.
X X X
Cilmesse, good advice and after thinking about it you are of course right. I can't leave a big plot hole like that, so I hope this chapter solves the problem.
XxMoJo88xX – AU means Alternative Universe, basically means that what I write strays from canon (what Tolkien wrote)
lady scribe of avandell – Thanks for that, I had no idea, I always though the fourth age started at Aragorn's coronation. I've done a lot of reading around, but had never come across that.
The heir of Théodred
Chapter Four
Éomer and Faramir stood atop the outcrop feeling triumphant, and they had cause to do so. It had taken a month, but they had managed to drive many of the foul folk away and had diminished their numbers by at least half. The situation was no longer dire and they were beginning to think that perhaps now would be time to take a short break from the front and visit those dear to them in Edoras. Faramir particularly was feeling anxious to get back to his precious wife's side. Their child was due any day now.
"It has been a glorious victory," Éomer uttered as they watched over the villagers trying to piece together their fallen homes.
"Thanks to you we have saved many lives," Faramir added feeling slightly ashamed. It grieved him that he had to ask for aid the first time his princedom came under siege.
"Do not belittle your own deeds so readily brother," Éomer chided and the two men exchanged a smile ripe with friendship. They sat down on one of the jagged rocks and enjoyed the warmth the setting sun was basking them in. " We should return to Edoras, if not for a few weeks." Faramir nodded ardently.
"I cannot miss it Éomer," he exclaimed suddenly sounding fearful. Éomer nodded and clapped a hand on his brother in law's shoulder.
"And you won't," he said firmly. "I will not allow it. And also..." The king of the Mark looked quite bashful for a moment. "My sister would never forgive me if I kept her husband from her on such a momentous occasion." Faramir started to chuckle. "Oh do not jest, have you ever been on the receiving end of a horsewhip with her at the handle?" Faramir laughed out loud as Éomer rubbed his arm, apparently remembering just such an occasion.
"I can imagine that would be quite unpleasant," Faramir managed and his face turned wistful once more. "You too seem keen to return," he remarked. Éomer smiled weakly and shrugged his armour-clad shoulders. "Though I feel it is not merely to return to your lovely wife?"
"It is true that I am of course eager to return to Lothiriel, I still find it strange to wake up next to such a beautiful, kind woman and know that she is mine," Éomer explained and his eyes shone with affection for his new wife. "But you are right in your guess. I am so...I do not even know the word. It is a strange emotion, a mixture of worry, excitement and sorrow." Faramir nodded and recalled the look on Éomer's face after he had read the mysterious letter addressed to Théodred. "I know that Lothiriel has told me in her letter that she has declined the throne, but what if she changes her mind. What if she assents?" Faramir did not have the answers.
"There is one thing I do not understand," he said sounding thoughtful. Éomer looked on him questioningly, bidding him continue wordlessly. " Well I did not know that Rohan could be under the reign of a Ruling Queen, I have not heard of this before." Éomer grinned and shook his head.
"Ah, there my friend, is one thing all your posh libraries and your scholars cannot tell you," he said almost cheerfully. Faramir gave him a tired look and nodded.
"That still does not answer my question, and if you are going to refer to an old wives tale or a story you have written on a scrap of parchment in that..." He coughed. "Library of yours then I do not feel humbled for not knowing it." Éomer grinned once more and nodded.
"Not a scrap, a scroll my friend, a scroll!" Faramir returned his boyish grin and nodded.
"Close enough brother, but prey, continue."
"It tells of Helm Hammerhand's worries prior to the war with the Dunlendings," Éomer explained. " In this time his cousin Déored was beginning to spread word that he was eager to ascend to the throne should Helm and his sons fall in battle. Helm could not have this as Déored was not a very trustworthy character, and as his only sibling Hild had bore no children yet as she did not wed till late there was no other suitable heir. So what could King Helm do?" Faramir listened intently; he had never heard this tale before.
"He change the law?" he asked eagerly.
"That he did, he changed the laws of succession enabling Hild to succeed as Ruling Queen should he and his sons fall in war. Well as you know those unfortunate times were indeed his and he saw his house fall," Éomer said grimly, remembering his uncle's plight. "Hild became the Ruling Queen of the Riddermark, though she did not hold it long as she died in childbirth to her only child and son Fréaláf, who is well known for starting the second line of King's that I am a descendent from. Not many know that our laws state a Ruling Queen must be instated ere one can look to different alternatives."
"There has been only one? This Queen Hild was the first and last?" Faramir asked. Éomer nodded grimly, hoping that this still remained so. Faramir had no more questions and inwardly he was feeling slightly disgruntled that he did not know this historic tale.
"Come friend, we must turn to our attention to our captains. If we are to take a break from the front, they must be informed and ready to lead in our stead," Éomer said shaking off his gloomy reverie. Faramir nodded eagerly, thinking that perhaps he might soon see his glorious wife once more and daring to hope that perhaps he might see his first child born into this world.
X X X
"Mayda?" Lothiriel called out. Mayda lifted her face from the cold floorboards and listened out to her aunt's calls. "Mayda where are you?" The door creaked open and the small girl pushed herself even further into the gloom. "Are you in here darling?" Wanting to respond and reveal her hiding place, Mayda covered her mouth with her hand and fought away a torrent of tears. It seemed hard now to believe that she had been perfectly happy for two weeks.
Lothiriel upon seeing the empty room returned to the corridor and shook her head sadly. Eowyn sighed exasperatedly and managed to amble along the corridor, her hand firmly placed on her swollen belly.
"I am worried sister, I do not trust that uncle of hers, if indeed he is her uncle, he has not yet proven to us that his claim is in fact true," Eowyn grumbled.
"Come now Eowyn, Mayda has not given us any reason to doubt what he says," Lothiriel countered worriedly. Eowyn closed her eyes and shook her head, pausing to lean against a statue.
"Nor has she given us any reason to trust him!" she complained. " She has changed my friend, reverted back into the timid fragile little thing that she was when she first arrived. Even more so than when she first arrived. She doesn't even ride anymore!" Lothiriel nodded and shook her head.
"Perhaps our niece is suffering from a similar heart ache that you now feel Eowyn," she suggested. "Perhaps upon seeing her uncle she is reminded of her mother, as she reminds you of Théodred." Eowyn sighed dejectedly and nodded.
"Perhaps you are right, but I do miss that mischievous little scamp we had the pleasure of knowing so briefly," she uttered sadly and she gave Lothiriel a significant look. "She's even started paying attention in her lessons!" Lothiriel laughed out loud and nodded.
"Well sister, perhaps that is a good thing," she chuckled, but her mirth was cut short by heavy footsteps sounding from round the corner. Within moments Maydir had come into view and he was looking more cheerful than he had yet appeared to the ladies.
"Good morning my ladies," he cheered and he bowed his head to them. " Is my dear niece about?" Both shook their heads.
"I have sought her for over an hour, she may be off exploring," Lothiriel explained. Maydir smiled in a rogue-like manner and nodded.
"Yes she does rather take to exploring doesn't she? Well I must be off, I bid you have a pleasant day my lady," he said bowing once more to Lothiriel before heading off whistling a merry tune.
"You cannot slate him on his behaviour sister, by all appearances he is very much fond of his niece," Lothiriel remarked as she led Eowyn in the direction of her chamber. "And when I have seen them together she appears to return his affections."
"And yet I do not trust him..."
X X X
The door creaked open once more and Mayda caught sight of a heavy pair of boots. She cowered slightly and pulled herself right back into the wall. Her skin crept as though thousands of invisible spiders were crawling all over her, yet her back felt surprisingly tight as many old wounds were yet not totally healed.
"I know you're in here," a low raspy voice hissed. The boots paced the length of the room before finally stopping at the side of the bed. It was a sight Mayda had seen many times as she hit under various objects to get away from this man who ought to love her as a niece, yet instead cast her out of her own home to fend for herself and take up house in a garden shed.
The disowned brother of Maydithil, Maydir had been a frightful fellow in his youth and the once great Gondorian Lord Maydan could not bear to have such a deceitful and terrible son. So Maydir was disowned and forced to stay away. He did not dare come close when Maydithil remained the head of the house as she could call to her aid all in the village if he came near, but when the village was pillaged by orcs and his sister slain the shrewd Maydir returned to the estate to find his niece alone and grieving. He cared not and cast her aside inviting all manner of riffraff to the grand estate. Needless to say the child had to fend for herself and she was often called on by her cruel uncle to cook and attempt to clean the house. Being but a young child she could not do these things and was often beaten for her troubles. Her back was forever marred by the wrath of Maydir and his companions.
He had not dared lay a hand on her since coming to Meduseld, though she was well aware of what he was capable of and thus agreed to keep his sordid past a secret and to pretend they were close. Mayda longed for Éomer's return even more passionately, believing all her problems to dissolve when he returned.
"Get out, I know you're under there!" The bed shook as Maydir's boot connected one of the legs. Mayda bit her lip and wiped angrily at her eyes, before crawling out and getting to her feet. "That's better, now go and act normal. Go and play outside or something. That Eowyn woman doesn't trust me, I heard her!" He waved his finger around ludicrously, pointing accusingly at the door. It would seem he was also starting to lose his wits.
"But it's raining," Mayda whispered. "I never go out in the rain."
"Well you will today, now get going!" Maydir ordered and he took hold of the collar of her cloak and pushed her out into the corridor. The child didn't need telling twice and she ran off and finding a back door she jumped out into the drizzle. She crept down to the town wall and made her way to the entrance to Edoras. There were not many around as everyone was sheltering from the vile weather, so she was not hindered. Soon she was out in the wild and it stilled her heart. The walls had become awfully binding since the arrival of Maydir and she loved to take a few moments to escape.
She looked over to the small little hillocks and tears welled up in her eyes. Grasping her cloak around herself to fend off the wind she ran over to her father's grave and threw herself down on the howe.
"Papa," she cried into the grass and she ran her fingers over the weather- beaten simbelmynë flowers that covered the hillock. "Why did you have to die?" she yelled into the roaring winds. Of course, no answer came and she cried away her anguish. Though her pain was lost on the feverish winds that carried it to far away places where none knew her name.
She stayed like this for many hours, until at last the weather started to relinquish its hold on the village. Mayda rolled onto her back and looked up at the patchy clouds and tried to catch the rays of sunlight that kept sneaking out from behind the grey to bask the sodden child with warmth. This is how she lay when she heard the horn call.
Sitting up she looked around to see if she had imagined it, but no, many others were coming to look too and then, on the horizon Mayda's eyes fell upon a sight that could have brought tears once more to her face, but not tears of sorrow and pain, tears of joy.
"Uncle Éomer is returning!" she cried gleefully and she started to run towards the oncoming éored. Once she had reached a small outcrop she stopped and watched as the company of horses approached bearing the colours of Rohan. A horn-call sounded once more and she jumped up and down, giddy with anticipation. Within moments the riders were nearly upon her and they turned to the south of the small hill to get a better approach into the village. Once all had passed the child she started sprinting after them.
X X X
Lothiriel had only just about managed to help her sister in law to the doors of the Golden Hall when her eyes fell upon her beloved husband making his way up the steps to their home, accompanied by dear Faramir. She could not hold back anymore and she ran forward, throwing her arms around his neck, breathing in the familiar sent of his hair.
"My darling you have returned," she whispered fondly as she felt him kiss the side of her head. He pulled back and stroked her cheek, his eyes revealing what a hundred words could not. He embraced his wife once more until his eyes fell on his large sister.
"And not a moment too soon it would seem," he said sounding relieved.
The joy at seeing his wife still heavily pregnant was too much for Faramir and he ran forward stopping inches away from his dear Eowyn. He dared not touch her, lest he should harm their child. Eowyn though had more faith in the resilience of their baby and she pulled her sorely missed husband into a strong embrace.
"Thank you," Faramir whispered. Eowyn grasped him tighter.
"For what?" she laughed through tears of joy. Faramir pulled back and placed both hands on her swollen bump. He looked up at her with a child's wonder in his eyes.
"For waiting!"
Éomer looked around himself curiously. Where was this rascal his wife had told him about in her letter? Lothiriel guessed what he sought and she too wondered at where Mayda could have got too. Surely she could not have missed the horn calls, nor the sound of the steeds returning.
"Uncle Éomer!" a small voice cried. Éomer turned around trying to locate its owner, but to no avail. He thought his ears to be deceiving him when he heard the cry once more, this time though it came accompanied by several of the riders jostling out of the way. Éomer approached the commotion when all of a sudden a drenched little thing came pelting out of the centre of the éored directly into his arms. From the side a pair of eyes narrowed in anger and Maydir stalked away.
"Mayda? Why are you drenched?" Éomer asked the child that hung onto him and he tried to pry her off to get a better look at him, but she would not relinquish him so easily. Lothiriel too approached and felt the child's soaking garments.
"But my darling have you been out in the storm?" she asked sounding aghast. "Why would you do such a thing?" But Mayda did not answer her and she clung onto Éomer as though he might disappear into thin air, leaving the King of Rohan utterly perplexed.
X X X