The heir of Théodred
Chapter Seven
Éomer narrowed his eyes as he peered into the trees, trying to pinpoint the giggling that was painfully reminding him he needed to practise this new game Mayda had invented. It seemed she was continuously inventing new games, as every time poor Éomer mastered the rules and beat the little scamp she would grow bored and insist they play a new game.
"I still do not see how this is to work if I am not allowed to take more than three paces," he called into the gloom.
"Three paces in one direction actually, and it will work," a little voice called back from somewhere to his left. He focused his direction on the slightly darker patch of trees and finally caught sight of a piece of dark cloak. "You are simply not trying hard enough uncle Éomer!" Éomer grinned boyishly and made an almighty leap in the direction of the tree.
"That was one!" He leapt again, already within reaching distance of the tree, but as he moved to take the last of his allotted steps a little blur of white and brown skimmed past him to hide behind another tree. " Well if you are allowed to move then I do not see how this is fair," he laughed, turning to see the girl stick her head out from behind her new hiding place.
"Well you have to sneak up on me," she said as though this much was obvious at least. Éomer laughed out loud and clambered out of his uncomfortable stretched position.
"And how am I to do that when you are watching my every move?" he asked fondly, heading over to the horses to take a swig of water. The midday sun was bearing down on them, and even though Éomer could understand neither hide nor hair of Mayda's games, he was grateful to be out of the heat. This game was definitely an improvement on the race she had insisted they carry out across the plains. It may have been made easier had she not conjured up a rule stating any over five feet in height must have their legs bound together. The last Éomer had seen of the little girl was her blonde head bobbing out of sight over the crest of a hill as he struggled to hop over a little ditch.
"Are you not feeling hungry yet?" he asked her as she skipped over triumphantly. She looked thoughtful for a moment, but as she began to shake her head her stomach grumbled suggesting perhaps she was lying. Éomer smiled fondly and ruffled her hair, noticing that it made absolutely no difference to her already-scruffy mop of thick hair. Once more Lothiriel would have to spend hours untangling the mess and pulling twigs out of it. "You would say anything to stay out till the very last moment wouldn't you?" Mayda shook her head once more, but the smirk that was growing on her imp-like face suggested otherwise.
"Playing with you is so much more fun than playing on my own," she explained accepting the flask her uncle was handing her. She gulped the rest of the water down greedily. Once she had drained the hipflask she dropped her arm panting for air. There had actually been quite a lot of water remaining in the flask. Now finally she was able to continue, " But you rarely have enough time!" Éomer took the now empty flask and dropped it back in his steed's saddlebag.
"Well I am starving," he explained heartily, mounting his horse. " Besides, we are already in enough trouble. You should have been ready for your lessons an hour ago." Mayda looked suddenly extremely busy with adjusting one of her stirrups. "And do not pretend you did not here that!" Éomer laughed. "As soon as we return to Meduseld we will eat and then you must go straight to the lore master." Mayda shrugged tiredly and nodded before mounting her own horse.
"I will go, but I cannot guarantee that I will stay..."
X X X
Lothiriel beamed with joy as she saw her bedraggled husband and niece stumble into the great hall, falling upon the closest food they could lay their hands on. It warmed her heart to see the change that had come about in both of them. They had taken instantly to each other, and were seemingly of like mind, which was not surprising, as Éomer had grown up idolising his older cousin and was very similar in his free-spirited nature.
What had become of Maydir none could say, save Mayda who would not. Maydir's message remained undisturbed in its hiding place. When the child had let it drop, the breeze had carried it under the dark bed, and none had yet thought to look there.
Over the month that had passed since Éomer and Faramir's they had returned only once to the front line to ascertain whether their forces were still needed. Most of the foul folk had curried back into the darkness from whence they came, allowing Éomer to lead most of his riders home. He left a few éoreds to guard the borders of Ithilien under the leadership of Amling. Finally Eowyn and Faramir were taking their infant son home.
This had been the main reason Éomer had devoted the entire morning to distracting his niece. Mayda had become incredibly close to Eowyn and very much enjoyed clambering on Faramir's back and gallivanting round the village. This was nothing though to how much she loved her baby cousin. She would often hang by Eowyn's side and watch as she tended to young Elboron. For all these reasons she was beginning to dread their departure, which was due to take place the next day.
"Did you have an enjoyable morning?" Lothiriel asked sitting down next to her husband and kissing his cheek. Mayda nodded fervently with her mouth full of food, yet still she managed to contort her face into an odd looking grin. The girl then continued to explain every last intricate detail to her aunt before she caught Éomer staring at her pointedly. Mayda looked down at her plate grimly, realising she had finished eating fifteen minutes ago.
"Yes, I shall go to my lesson," she sighed climbing to her feet. " But I will not like it and absolutely refuse to learn anything!" she added huffily, before she ran off.
"Why does she always have to run everywhere?" Éomer asked fondly. Lothiriel smiled and shook her head.
"I am told it is a phase," she replied cheerfully. "And it is one I do hope she never grows out of, it is a wonderful way for her to dispel her vast amounts of energy. How many games did she invent on this occasion my love?" Éomer laughed out loud and lifted his hand, indicating four with his fingers.
"And can you believe it? I did not win any of them!" he explained.
"Oh dear Éomer, I cannot imagine now a time when she was not ours," Lothiriel sighed and she reached out to grasp his hand. " Théodred would have been proud."
"That we already known, I believe one entry in his journal continues for three pages on..." Lothiriel chuckled softly and shook her head.
"I did not mean Mayda," she said. "You are so wonderful with her. He would have been proud of you."
"I hope you are right," Éomer said seeming suddenly humbled. " If I can bestow on him the greatest honour by ensuring his only child is brought up safely in this world then I would wish I were doing it to the best of my abilities."
X X X
Mayda crept through the breezy corridors as silently as she could. The only noise she made was the sound of her bare feet padding along the slate tiles. The sun had long since set and the entire household had been sleeping for many hours. Mayda alone had not been able to find sleep as she was dreading having to part with Eowyn and her family. In the early hours of the morning Elboron's wails brought Mayda to her door to listen and she felt tears well in her eyes as a soft voice carried a gentle tune through the corridor.
Making up her mind to seek comfort, the little girl had set out in her nightgown alone, though now she severely regretted it as a chilly breeze bit at her bare shins and arms. Only Eowyn's voice kept her going. Like a moth seeking a flame, the girl was drawn to Eowyn's deep song and soon she peered round the door of the nursery to find the mother rocking her baby to sleep.
"Hello my darling," Eowyn suddenly whispered, before she carried on singing her tune. Mayda crept inside the warm nursery and crept up to her aunt's side. "Do you want to hold him? He will not lie still." Mayda nodded quickly and she ran across the nursery to the large armchair. Eowyn brought her baby over to the girl and gently placed him in her arms. " He likes you very much, he will miss you." Mayda sighed as she looked on the drowsy infant.
"I will miss him also," she uttered helplessly. "Teach me your song?" she suddenly asked, looking up to her aunt eagerly. "It makes me feel safe, I cannot say why." Eowyn smiled warmly and sat down next to her niece on the wife armchair.
"Perhaps I might enlighten you," she whispered. " This song is an old Rohirric tune passed down by the generations. I do believe it comes from the days of the first age, when our ancestors lived in the lands to the west that are now no more." Mayda nodded intently, her eyes filled with wonder. She loved it when Eowyn told her stories. "I learnt it when I was a little girl much like yourself."
"Who taught it to you?" Mayda asked. Eowyn smiled distantly, seemingly remembering this day fondly.
"Your father," she eventually replied. Mayda's eyes widened in surprise. " I was very upset when I came to live here, and it would seem that nothing could sooth me. Your father was older than I by many years, and one fitful night he came to sit by my bed. He played the tune on an old flute he used to carry around." Eowyn paused to laugh at this; she had many fond memories of Théodred's old flute. "When he saw that I quietened down at the sound of the melody he began to sing it to me. Though I could not understand the words as it is in a tongue long lost to us, it calmed me still. Perhaps, though you might not remember it, he sang it to you to ease away your fears." Mayda closed her eyes desperately trying to remember if this may have been so, but she could not recall her father ever singing an old song from the ancient days.
"I do not think so," she eventually mumbled, distress filling her young face. Eowyn wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulders and squeezed her tightly.
"We cannot remember many things from when we were very young my darling," she said softly. "It was that tune that brought you out into the cold to follow it. I daresay that deep down, you know it. Now come, let us sing it together. You will learn it easily enough." And once more Eowyn began to sing the slow melody.
"Ghadra ainu, su en kali a en su ainu. Ghadra ainu, len de nas en su neg dar ainu. Trahan su en lohtur su ainu, ghadra kastu, su en kali a en su ainu," Eowyn sang softly, repeating it so many times that Mayda found herself singing along, trying to find meaning in the familiar sounds. The last thing she remembered before her heavy eyelids fell was looking down onto her sleeping cousin's face and thinking for just a moment that perhaps it was not so bad having to say goodbye, as she knew she would see them again.
X X X
The wind buffered the small procession of horses that rode their riders over the swelteringly hot plains of Rohan. Eventually they reached a bluff and they came to a halt. A small group of riders dismounted and walked towards each other, unsure of what to say. Finally it seemed, Faramir found the right words.
"I can never thank you enough brother," he said reaching out and taking Éomer's hand, gripping the top of his arm with his other. Éomer's looked into his brother in law's eyes and saw such gratitude there that he threw an arm around his friend and embraced him firmly.
"No thanks are needed my friend," he said stoutly. "Remember, to family!" With a wink he stepped backwards to find Lothiriel and Eowyn in an embrace with tears streaming down their cheeks, though strangely enough they were both laughing too.
"We will see each other soon sister," Lothiriel said firmly and she pulled back and beamed at her close friend. Eowyn nodded wiping away her tears before looking down and finding a very doleful Mayda. Eowyn crouched down and stroked her cold cheek.
"I am so happy we found you," she said softly and she pulled the little girl into a tight embrace, before pulling away with not another word. Faramir then leaned down kissed the top of Mayda's neatly braided hair before helping his wife onto her steed. Once he was sure she was comfortable he took Elboron from one of Lothiriel's handmaidens arms and passed him up to his wife. With this he bowed to Lothiriel and kissed her hand. With this he mounted his horse and looked down on his friends.
"Till we meet again!"
X X X
"Will you not smile my darling?" Lothiriel asked her glum charge as they walked to the stables. Mayda sighed and shrugged. " Your uncle is taking you to the swimming hole for the first time and all you can do is shrug. Perhaps he had better not take you," she suggested. Mayda quickly looked up and shook her head.
"No, I want to go!" she cried and a small excited smile crept onto her face. "I really want to!" she added with much more vigour. In truth, it had been something she had wished to do since Eowyn told her about her fond memories of this large swimming hole to the south of Edoras at the base of a waterfall.
"That is more like it," Éomer's cheerful voice sounded from inside the stables. He came into view with two steeds already saddled up and such a happy smile on his face that Mayda decided that now was not the time to mope. She had been waiting for this for weeks.
She managed to not think about Eowyn until they reached the waterfall and everything was exactly as she had described it. Swallowing away a painful sob she threw her cloak down heading straight for the makeshift swing made out of two ropes and a thick branch.
"No wait!" Éomer cried, as she was about to dive into the water. Mayda slithered to a halt on the slipping boulders and turned to look at her uncle questioningly. "Well you cannot swim in your gown," he laughed. " Lothiriel assured me she gave you britches this morning so as you might swim in those." Mayda hung back slightly looking worried, but within moments Éomer had thrown off his tunic and leapt into the water. She thought of the marks that covered her back and began to realise that this was perhaps not such a good idea.
"I think I will wait a while, the water looks a little cold," she called to him making her way carefully back to the horses. Éomer had suspected that she might react like this and let her decline. Both he and Eowyn suspected that she was hiding something and had figured out that this might be the best way to find out what it was, but it would seem Mayda was well aware that she could reveal some of her secrets by giving in to her desperate desire to go swimming. Having grown up along the Anduin, Mayda had been swimming longer than she could remember. In the summer, if ever any had sought any child in the village, they did not need to look further than the river. It was as a second home to the youngsters.
So Mayda sat by the steeds watching as her uncle splashed around in the water, diving in off the rocks and hanging from the swing...all the things she wished she could be doing. The heat was suffocating, as the summer was truly on its way.
Eventually the temptation became too much for the child and she pulled her gown over her head revealing that she had already been wearing the britches Lothiriel had given her. Making sure that she kept her back from her uncle at all times she ran into the water and dived under, relishing in the instant coolness that washed over her. She swam over to the swing and looked up at it sceptically. Éomer was on the other side of the pool watching her calculatingly, so she could risk climbing on as long as she stayed facing him.
It was more fun than she could remember having in a long time, as she swung as high as she could make the log take her before letting go and flying into the deep end of the pool, falling into the spray of the waterfall. Eventually she grew tired and swam over to where Éomer had been cheering on her swinging antics. She sat down on a submerged rock several feet from him catching his unreadable gaze. Finally though a look of horror replaced this and he jumped backwards pointing fearfully behind Mayda.
"Snake!" he shouted. Mayda screamed and jumped backwards too, turning round to see where the danger lay, but the smooth boulders behind her lay bare. There was nothing there. She instantly spun around again and backed away from her shocked looking uncle.
"Come back, please?" he uttered reaching out a hand. "Do not be afraid." Mayda's lower lip trembled, but she loved her uncle too much to mistrust him. So she pulled herself across the riverbed to him. " Let me see," he ordered gently and she turned around
Éomer stared in horror at the faint scars that literally littered Mayda's back. They looked as though they had come from a belt of some kind, though an orcen whip could not be ruled out of course. Here and there a deep scar as though from a blade stood out.
"Who did this to you?" he eventually asked. Mayda turned around once more and looked up at him through emotionless eyes.
"After my mother died I was alone..." she began. " For a while. The orcs that killed her, they...they were cruel and they had bitter whips." This in itself was not a lie, she had found herself torment to the vicious orcs who had assailed her village, though she had escaped from them ere they could inflict too much pain. She paused and fought to spit out the next words.
'Why are you afraid?' a voice whispered in the back of her mind. 'Uncle Éomer will protect you...'
"And after your uncle came back? What then?" Mayda looked up at Éomer once more, tears filling her eyes.
"He..."
X X X
More to come soon.
AN – Eowyn's song [not relevant to the story, just wanted to add some info on it] – I very much love the Silmarillion, and the Rohan are descendents of the Northmen, who in turn were descendents of the great races of men who fought valiantly in the first age along with the Eldar. I see this song as coming from the earliest days possible, when the Haladin (one of the three houses of men) were making their way from where they were created in the darkness to the west. Therefore the language would be primitive. I looked at a website (http:www.uib.no/People/hnohf/) concerning the languages that Tolkien created and looked at the roots of Westron, old mannish tongues and old Sindarin to find some commonly used sounds to make up the 'words' in the song. Especially 'gad' which in Westron means 'stay', a recurring theme in the song as when I thought of this low and haunting tune I thought of someone lamenting someone they had lost. If you imagine the tune Viggo Mortensen made up for Aragorn's singing at the end of Lord of the Rings, then that is the kind of feel I was thinking of. Anyway, :) just some info on that... you'll probably think I'm crazy now. Actually, I need advice, is it too much? Shall I remove the words and just use the power of the narrative to describe it?
Chapter Seven
Éomer narrowed his eyes as he peered into the trees, trying to pinpoint the giggling that was painfully reminding him he needed to practise this new game Mayda had invented. It seemed she was continuously inventing new games, as every time poor Éomer mastered the rules and beat the little scamp she would grow bored and insist they play a new game.
"I still do not see how this is to work if I am not allowed to take more than three paces," he called into the gloom.
"Three paces in one direction actually, and it will work," a little voice called back from somewhere to his left. He focused his direction on the slightly darker patch of trees and finally caught sight of a piece of dark cloak. "You are simply not trying hard enough uncle Éomer!" Éomer grinned boyishly and made an almighty leap in the direction of the tree.
"That was one!" He leapt again, already within reaching distance of the tree, but as he moved to take the last of his allotted steps a little blur of white and brown skimmed past him to hide behind another tree. " Well if you are allowed to move then I do not see how this is fair," he laughed, turning to see the girl stick her head out from behind her new hiding place.
"Well you have to sneak up on me," she said as though this much was obvious at least. Éomer laughed out loud and clambered out of his uncomfortable stretched position.
"And how am I to do that when you are watching my every move?" he asked fondly, heading over to the horses to take a swig of water. The midday sun was bearing down on them, and even though Éomer could understand neither hide nor hair of Mayda's games, he was grateful to be out of the heat. This game was definitely an improvement on the race she had insisted they carry out across the plains. It may have been made easier had she not conjured up a rule stating any over five feet in height must have their legs bound together. The last Éomer had seen of the little girl was her blonde head bobbing out of sight over the crest of a hill as he struggled to hop over a little ditch.
"Are you not feeling hungry yet?" he asked her as she skipped over triumphantly. She looked thoughtful for a moment, but as she began to shake her head her stomach grumbled suggesting perhaps she was lying. Éomer smiled fondly and ruffled her hair, noticing that it made absolutely no difference to her already-scruffy mop of thick hair. Once more Lothiriel would have to spend hours untangling the mess and pulling twigs out of it. "You would say anything to stay out till the very last moment wouldn't you?" Mayda shook her head once more, but the smirk that was growing on her imp-like face suggested otherwise.
"Playing with you is so much more fun than playing on my own," she explained accepting the flask her uncle was handing her. She gulped the rest of the water down greedily. Once she had drained the hipflask she dropped her arm panting for air. There had actually been quite a lot of water remaining in the flask. Now finally she was able to continue, " But you rarely have enough time!" Éomer took the now empty flask and dropped it back in his steed's saddlebag.
"Well I am starving," he explained heartily, mounting his horse. " Besides, we are already in enough trouble. You should have been ready for your lessons an hour ago." Mayda looked suddenly extremely busy with adjusting one of her stirrups. "And do not pretend you did not here that!" Éomer laughed. "As soon as we return to Meduseld we will eat and then you must go straight to the lore master." Mayda shrugged tiredly and nodded before mounting her own horse.
"I will go, but I cannot guarantee that I will stay..."
X X X
Lothiriel beamed with joy as she saw her bedraggled husband and niece stumble into the great hall, falling upon the closest food they could lay their hands on. It warmed her heart to see the change that had come about in both of them. They had taken instantly to each other, and were seemingly of like mind, which was not surprising, as Éomer had grown up idolising his older cousin and was very similar in his free-spirited nature.
What had become of Maydir none could say, save Mayda who would not. Maydir's message remained undisturbed in its hiding place. When the child had let it drop, the breeze had carried it under the dark bed, and none had yet thought to look there.
Over the month that had passed since Éomer and Faramir's they had returned only once to the front line to ascertain whether their forces were still needed. Most of the foul folk had curried back into the darkness from whence they came, allowing Éomer to lead most of his riders home. He left a few éoreds to guard the borders of Ithilien under the leadership of Amling. Finally Eowyn and Faramir were taking their infant son home.
This had been the main reason Éomer had devoted the entire morning to distracting his niece. Mayda had become incredibly close to Eowyn and very much enjoyed clambering on Faramir's back and gallivanting round the village. This was nothing though to how much she loved her baby cousin. She would often hang by Eowyn's side and watch as she tended to young Elboron. For all these reasons she was beginning to dread their departure, which was due to take place the next day.
"Did you have an enjoyable morning?" Lothiriel asked sitting down next to her husband and kissing his cheek. Mayda nodded fervently with her mouth full of food, yet still she managed to contort her face into an odd looking grin. The girl then continued to explain every last intricate detail to her aunt before she caught Éomer staring at her pointedly. Mayda looked down at her plate grimly, realising she had finished eating fifteen minutes ago.
"Yes, I shall go to my lesson," she sighed climbing to her feet. " But I will not like it and absolutely refuse to learn anything!" she added huffily, before she ran off.
"Why does she always have to run everywhere?" Éomer asked fondly. Lothiriel smiled and shook her head.
"I am told it is a phase," she replied cheerfully. "And it is one I do hope she never grows out of, it is a wonderful way for her to dispel her vast amounts of energy. How many games did she invent on this occasion my love?" Éomer laughed out loud and lifted his hand, indicating four with his fingers.
"And can you believe it? I did not win any of them!" he explained.
"Oh dear Éomer, I cannot imagine now a time when she was not ours," Lothiriel sighed and she reached out to grasp his hand. " Théodred would have been proud."
"That we already known, I believe one entry in his journal continues for three pages on..." Lothiriel chuckled softly and shook her head.
"I did not mean Mayda," she said. "You are so wonderful with her. He would have been proud of you."
"I hope you are right," Éomer said seeming suddenly humbled. " If I can bestow on him the greatest honour by ensuring his only child is brought up safely in this world then I would wish I were doing it to the best of my abilities."
X X X
Mayda crept through the breezy corridors as silently as she could. The only noise she made was the sound of her bare feet padding along the slate tiles. The sun had long since set and the entire household had been sleeping for many hours. Mayda alone had not been able to find sleep as she was dreading having to part with Eowyn and her family. In the early hours of the morning Elboron's wails brought Mayda to her door to listen and she felt tears well in her eyes as a soft voice carried a gentle tune through the corridor.
Making up her mind to seek comfort, the little girl had set out in her nightgown alone, though now she severely regretted it as a chilly breeze bit at her bare shins and arms. Only Eowyn's voice kept her going. Like a moth seeking a flame, the girl was drawn to Eowyn's deep song and soon she peered round the door of the nursery to find the mother rocking her baby to sleep.
"Hello my darling," Eowyn suddenly whispered, before she carried on singing her tune. Mayda crept inside the warm nursery and crept up to her aunt's side. "Do you want to hold him? He will not lie still." Mayda nodded quickly and she ran across the nursery to the large armchair. Eowyn brought her baby over to the girl and gently placed him in her arms. " He likes you very much, he will miss you." Mayda sighed as she looked on the drowsy infant.
"I will miss him also," she uttered helplessly. "Teach me your song?" she suddenly asked, looking up to her aunt eagerly. "It makes me feel safe, I cannot say why." Eowyn smiled warmly and sat down next to her niece on the wife armchair.
"Perhaps I might enlighten you," she whispered. " This song is an old Rohirric tune passed down by the generations. I do believe it comes from the days of the first age, when our ancestors lived in the lands to the west that are now no more." Mayda nodded intently, her eyes filled with wonder. She loved it when Eowyn told her stories. "I learnt it when I was a little girl much like yourself."
"Who taught it to you?" Mayda asked. Eowyn smiled distantly, seemingly remembering this day fondly.
"Your father," she eventually replied. Mayda's eyes widened in surprise. " I was very upset when I came to live here, and it would seem that nothing could sooth me. Your father was older than I by many years, and one fitful night he came to sit by my bed. He played the tune on an old flute he used to carry around." Eowyn paused to laugh at this; she had many fond memories of Théodred's old flute. "When he saw that I quietened down at the sound of the melody he began to sing it to me. Though I could not understand the words as it is in a tongue long lost to us, it calmed me still. Perhaps, though you might not remember it, he sang it to you to ease away your fears." Mayda closed her eyes desperately trying to remember if this may have been so, but she could not recall her father ever singing an old song from the ancient days.
"I do not think so," she eventually mumbled, distress filling her young face. Eowyn wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulders and squeezed her tightly.
"We cannot remember many things from when we were very young my darling," she said softly. "It was that tune that brought you out into the cold to follow it. I daresay that deep down, you know it. Now come, let us sing it together. You will learn it easily enough." And once more Eowyn began to sing the slow melody.
"Ghadra ainu, su en kali a en su ainu. Ghadra ainu, len de nas en su neg dar ainu. Trahan su en lohtur su ainu, ghadra kastu, su en kali a en su ainu," Eowyn sang softly, repeating it so many times that Mayda found herself singing along, trying to find meaning in the familiar sounds. The last thing she remembered before her heavy eyelids fell was looking down onto her sleeping cousin's face and thinking for just a moment that perhaps it was not so bad having to say goodbye, as she knew she would see them again.
X X X
The wind buffered the small procession of horses that rode their riders over the swelteringly hot plains of Rohan. Eventually they reached a bluff and they came to a halt. A small group of riders dismounted and walked towards each other, unsure of what to say. Finally it seemed, Faramir found the right words.
"I can never thank you enough brother," he said reaching out and taking Éomer's hand, gripping the top of his arm with his other. Éomer's looked into his brother in law's eyes and saw such gratitude there that he threw an arm around his friend and embraced him firmly.
"No thanks are needed my friend," he said stoutly. "Remember, to family!" With a wink he stepped backwards to find Lothiriel and Eowyn in an embrace with tears streaming down their cheeks, though strangely enough they were both laughing too.
"We will see each other soon sister," Lothiriel said firmly and she pulled back and beamed at her close friend. Eowyn nodded wiping away her tears before looking down and finding a very doleful Mayda. Eowyn crouched down and stroked her cold cheek.
"I am so happy we found you," she said softly and she pulled the little girl into a tight embrace, before pulling away with not another word. Faramir then leaned down kissed the top of Mayda's neatly braided hair before helping his wife onto her steed. Once he was sure she was comfortable he took Elboron from one of Lothiriel's handmaidens arms and passed him up to his wife. With this he bowed to Lothiriel and kissed her hand. With this he mounted his horse and looked down on his friends.
"Till we meet again!"
X X X
"Will you not smile my darling?" Lothiriel asked her glum charge as they walked to the stables. Mayda sighed and shrugged. " Your uncle is taking you to the swimming hole for the first time and all you can do is shrug. Perhaps he had better not take you," she suggested. Mayda quickly looked up and shook her head.
"No, I want to go!" she cried and a small excited smile crept onto her face. "I really want to!" she added with much more vigour. In truth, it had been something she had wished to do since Eowyn told her about her fond memories of this large swimming hole to the south of Edoras at the base of a waterfall.
"That is more like it," Éomer's cheerful voice sounded from inside the stables. He came into view with two steeds already saddled up and such a happy smile on his face that Mayda decided that now was not the time to mope. She had been waiting for this for weeks.
She managed to not think about Eowyn until they reached the waterfall and everything was exactly as she had described it. Swallowing away a painful sob she threw her cloak down heading straight for the makeshift swing made out of two ropes and a thick branch.
"No wait!" Éomer cried, as she was about to dive into the water. Mayda slithered to a halt on the slipping boulders and turned to look at her uncle questioningly. "Well you cannot swim in your gown," he laughed. " Lothiriel assured me she gave you britches this morning so as you might swim in those." Mayda hung back slightly looking worried, but within moments Éomer had thrown off his tunic and leapt into the water. She thought of the marks that covered her back and began to realise that this was perhaps not such a good idea.
"I think I will wait a while, the water looks a little cold," she called to him making her way carefully back to the horses. Éomer had suspected that she might react like this and let her decline. Both he and Eowyn suspected that she was hiding something and had figured out that this might be the best way to find out what it was, but it would seem Mayda was well aware that she could reveal some of her secrets by giving in to her desperate desire to go swimming. Having grown up along the Anduin, Mayda had been swimming longer than she could remember. In the summer, if ever any had sought any child in the village, they did not need to look further than the river. It was as a second home to the youngsters.
So Mayda sat by the steeds watching as her uncle splashed around in the water, diving in off the rocks and hanging from the swing...all the things she wished she could be doing. The heat was suffocating, as the summer was truly on its way.
Eventually the temptation became too much for the child and she pulled her gown over her head revealing that she had already been wearing the britches Lothiriel had given her. Making sure that she kept her back from her uncle at all times she ran into the water and dived under, relishing in the instant coolness that washed over her. She swam over to the swing and looked up at it sceptically. Éomer was on the other side of the pool watching her calculatingly, so she could risk climbing on as long as she stayed facing him.
It was more fun than she could remember having in a long time, as she swung as high as she could make the log take her before letting go and flying into the deep end of the pool, falling into the spray of the waterfall. Eventually she grew tired and swam over to where Éomer had been cheering on her swinging antics. She sat down on a submerged rock several feet from him catching his unreadable gaze. Finally though a look of horror replaced this and he jumped backwards pointing fearfully behind Mayda.
"Snake!" he shouted. Mayda screamed and jumped backwards too, turning round to see where the danger lay, but the smooth boulders behind her lay bare. There was nothing there. She instantly spun around again and backed away from her shocked looking uncle.
"Come back, please?" he uttered reaching out a hand. "Do not be afraid." Mayda's lower lip trembled, but she loved her uncle too much to mistrust him. So she pulled herself across the riverbed to him. " Let me see," he ordered gently and she turned around
Éomer stared in horror at the faint scars that literally littered Mayda's back. They looked as though they had come from a belt of some kind, though an orcen whip could not be ruled out of course. Here and there a deep scar as though from a blade stood out.
"Who did this to you?" he eventually asked. Mayda turned around once more and looked up at him through emotionless eyes.
"After my mother died I was alone..." she began. " For a while. The orcs that killed her, they...they were cruel and they had bitter whips." This in itself was not a lie, she had found herself torment to the vicious orcs who had assailed her village, though she had escaped from them ere they could inflict too much pain. She paused and fought to spit out the next words.
'Why are you afraid?' a voice whispered in the back of her mind. 'Uncle Éomer will protect you...'
"And after your uncle came back? What then?" Mayda looked up at Éomer once more, tears filling her eyes.
"He..."
X X X
More to come soon.
AN – Eowyn's song [not relevant to the story, just wanted to add some info on it] – I very much love the Silmarillion, and the Rohan are descendents of the Northmen, who in turn were descendents of the great races of men who fought valiantly in the first age along with the Eldar. I see this song as coming from the earliest days possible, when the Haladin (one of the three houses of men) were making their way from where they were created in the darkness to the west. Therefore the language would be primitive. I looked at a website (http:www.uib.no/People/hnohf/) concerning the languages that Tolkien created and looked at the roots of Westron, old mannish tongues and old Sindarin to find some commonly used sounds to make up the 'words' in the song. Especially 'gad' which in Westron means 'stay', a recurring theme in the song as when I thought of this low and haunting tune I thought of someone lamenting someone they had lost. If you imagine the tune Viggo Mortensen made up for Aragorn's singing at the end of Lord of the Rings, then that is the kind of feel I was thinking of. Anyway, :) just some info on that... you'll probably think I'm crazy now. Actually, I need advice, is it too much? Shall I remove the words and just use the power of the narrative to describe it?