A/N – Thanks once more for the reviews, they keep me going. Sorry I haven't
updated in a few days, but it's been a very busy weekend (with work,
turning twenty, hangovers etc)...
The heir of Théodred
Chapter Twelve
"No!" the girl cried, throwing off her heavy mantle and rushing forward towards the armoured figure. She knew who it was. He was her saviour and he would never let anyone hurt her. As she came before him she stopped and looked up as the figure pulled off their helm to reveal Éomer's kindly face. "I'm sorry, but..." She did not have time to finish, because Éomer had dropped to his knees and pulled her into a powerful embrace. Her body ached all over from her injuries, but the girl did not complain, she was safe...at last.
Finally they separated and he got to his feet looking around for Maydir. Amazingly though the monstrous man had fled the court and was nowhere to be seen. Éomer motioned for the armed guards at the door.
"Muster my éored," he called to them, before looking back on his niece. " We will find him and bring him to justice!" Mayda nodded wearily and she looked like she wanted to hug him once more, but he turned on heel to scout out the land to see which way the scoundrel had fled. Lothiriel then fell on her niece and squeezed her tightly.
"Oh my darling," she whispered. "You came to your senses." Mayda winced as one of her wounds had opened and blood started seeping through the thick material of her white gown. Lothiriel noticed and hid her dismay, getting to her feet and holding out her hand to the girl. "Come, let us treat that wound." Mayda nodded gratefully and took her aunt's hand. They walked in a pleasant silence until they reached one of the healing wings of the palace. Lothiriel sat her niece down and gently pulled the neck of the dress back to see many fresh wounds beside the one that had burst open. With a heavy sigh the young queen bathed the wound and dressed it.
"I do not know how you bared this in silence," she whispered, peering down the length of her niece's back and seeing it littered with bruises and cuts. The sight made her blood boil.
"I was afraid," the little girl whispered.
"But you know that you're uncle and I would have protected you," Lothiriel countered desperately, crouching down in front of the girl and taking her shoulders in her hands. Mayda stared at her with tears in her eyes and she shrugged weakly.
"Maydir is cunning auntie, he would have found a way," she uttered, grimly thinking that perhaps even now she wasn't entirely safe yet.
"I can't believe you are related to such a man," Lothiriel grumbled, returning to her task of dressing the wound. To her surprise Mayda started laughing bitterly.
"He is no relation of mine," she sneered. " Not anymore!" Lothiriel remained silent. "Many years ago, ere I was born, my grandfather Maydan of Archanion learned of the despicable behaviour of his only son. He attempted to reason with Maydir, but to no avail, the man was unstoppable. So he was disowned and all his rights to the land and...and to me were waved." Mayda paused and hung her head. "He stayed away while mamma was alive, because the entire village could have protected us if we needed it, but when she died and the village was thrown into chaos, there was no such protection. He reclaimed what in his mind ought to have been his own."
"I cannot believe that my husband's cousin did not write of this in his journals," Lothiriel said sounding humbled by Mayda's story. Her frustration at the girl for hiding all this was fading, and an understanding of her plight was forming in its place. Mayda sighed and shook her head.
"I do believe he did," she said sadly. "But then thought better of it." Lothiriel looked to the girl curiously and Mayda climbed to her feet gingerly. She led her aunt through the corridors to her room where a pile of Théodred's journals lay on her desk. She climbed onto her chair and sorted through them till she found the one she sought. Lothiriel recognised it instantly.
"But that is the one that my dear sister and I unearthed. It is how we were able to find you," she gasped, but she recalled no mention of Maydir, nor any scoring out of any script that might conceal such a mention. Mayda flicked through the pages until she found was she was looking for and pulled pages back as far as they could go. Upon doing this the remains of another page was revealed, one that had evidently been ripped from the binding.
"The prior entry was in the winter of my fourth birthday and I remember that around this time papa met Maydir for the first and only time. Maydir nearly met his end that day, but papa showed him mercy and he escaped into the wild once more," Mayda explained running her fingers over the fine script. "I do believe that my father intended to write out this account in full, but perhaps felt that such a man should not be included in his joyous journal. There is enough pain and suffering in these," she said sadly, waving a hand over three journals that lay to the side. A silence followed in which Mayda's stomach growled profusely. Eventually Lothiriel burst out laughing.
"My darling, let us see to your stomach," she said cheerfully and handed out her hand to her niece. As they walked down the corridor hand in hand a peaceful feeling came over them both. "Don't worry Mayda, they will catch him."
A pair of dark eyes followed them, before a shadow fell from behind a door in the direction of the kitchens.
X X X
Éomer rode his steed hard, it would seem that the rider ahead of them had stolen one of the king's horses as it was similar in speed to Éomer's mighty horse. Behind the thundering of the galloping éored made even the ground shake and yet the rider did not give in. Finally, it would seem that without a good knowledge of the lay of the land the rider came across a river he could not cross and was forced to try and outrun the éored along the banks of the river, but the company closed in and the rider was trapped. Éomer rode forward slightly.
"You will dismount or we will strike you down!" he bellowed. Ahead the rider quickly jumped down and stood hooded waiting for the king to approach. Éomer growled angrily and rode his steed forward, followed by Elfbold, and Grimhelm, second and third in command of the army after Amling. It had been they who had aided the King and their captain in saving Mayda. Once they reached the figure they dismounted and Éomer strode over to the rider stealthily.
"Remove your hood," he ordered gruffly. A low laughter came from beyond the material and in an instant the rider threw back the hood to reveal... " Who are you?" Éomer demanded as an angry murmur when through the éored; they had been chasing the wrong man for the last two hours.
"I am Eradan of Pelargir," the man replied. "May I ask why I am being apprehended?"
"Why were you fleeing from us?" Grimhelm demanded.
"I was not aware you were following me," the man said glibly. " Is this not the road to the East? I was merely travelling home, there is no crime in that." Éomer eyed him darkly.
"And where is your home?" he asked already knowing the answer.
"In the valley of Archanion." Éomer closed his eyes in defeat and he looked back in the direction of Edoras. Then without another word he mounted his horse and spun around. "Eorlingas, back to Edoras!" he shouted and a path formed for their king to take the lead. " We have been deceived," he called to where Elfbold and Grimhelm were guarding their captive. "He rode out while our target remained. Bring him back in chains!" With this he kicked his horse into action and the éored lurched into action once more.
X X X
Lothiriel smiled as she watched her niece devour everything that she placed in front of her. The child was famished after being half-starved for several days, and all she could think of was eating. Eventually she leaned back and breathed out heavily.
"I am so full, I do not think I can move," she laughed contentedly. Lothiriel grinned fondly and moved to clear away the plates.
"That might make my task easier." Lothiriel spun around to see who was standing in the open doorway, but Mayda needed no such confirmation, that voice had plagued her enough times to know who was standing behind her. Upon seeing the furious form of Maydir Lothiriel jumped to protect her niece.
"You!" she hissed. "You are to be thrown into the deepest dungeon! I would not make it worse I were you." Maydir laughed evilly and stepped forward into the light; his expression was manic. Behind her aunt Mayda jumped down from her chair and peered out from beyond her aunt.
"There you are," the man sneered. "You have ruined everything!" Lothiriel scowled at him and stepped forward, but his eyes didn't follow her. She moved to the side and still, he did not pay her any attention. Her eyes flew around and to her left several pans were lined up. Slowly, she started edging towards them.
"I ruined nothing," Mayda hissed seeing what her aunt was planning to do. "Had you been smart uncle," she spat venomously. "You would have remained in Archanion in the house you stole from me, you might have commandeered it for a while." Maydir tilted his head to one side and his eyes gleamed nastily.
"In Archanion?" he asked leeringly. "Girl, should I have remained to let the farmers hunt me down with their pitchforks?" Mayda nodded coolly and she got to her feet feeling terribly bloated. A horrible sneer crossed the man's face and within an instant he had dove forward. Mayda, well used to evading this monster, easily darted to the side and within an instant had crawled under the table to safety. Meanwhile Lothiriel had reached the pans and still Maydir did not pay her the slightest bit of attention.
"Why don't you run Maydir?" Mayda demanded from her hiding place. " My uncle will kill you when he returns!"
"Should I die knowing I ended your pathetic existence then I would die a happy man," Maydir growled and he pushed the table over revealing his niece. She rolled under his grasping hands and through his legs before crawling over to the other side of the kitchen. Maydir wielded around angrily and looked around for a weapon. His eyes fell on a carving knife and within moments it was in his hand. Mayda gulped and looked over to where Lothiriel was now creeping over to Maydir, frying pan in hand.
"If I die, then how does that help you?" Mayda asked shakily, realising she was in an area of the kitchen that was devoid of dangerous looking implements. "Why do you hate me so much?"
"Because you are her daughter," he spat. "She was given everything that ought to have been mine," he added and he kicked one of the chairs clean across the room. "My sister was pathetic, as is her child! Neither of you know a good thing when it is offered to you. Had Maydithil gone to Rohan with that father of yours then I would have become Lord of Archanion, a title I was born to have!" Mayda scrunched up her face in anger and forgetting her peril, stepped forward.
"You gave up your right to that title when you killed the Master's son," she hissed. Maydir twitched visibly and his eyes darkened. "Oh, you would wish to forget about that wouldn't you Maydir? He was innocent and you took his life, you are lucky grandfather merely disowned you and did not turn you in to those that hunted you. You lie, you steal, you...kill. You deserve nothing save death and I hope it finds you soon!" With this Maydir roared and lifted his knife, poised to attack. Lothiriel now took her chance and she leapt forward and hit him as hard as she could across the back of his head.
The blow was blinding, and after a few moments of stumbling Maydir came to his senses. He spun around and his eyes fell on the young woman he had until now not realised was in the room.
"You," he growled and he charged at her, knocking the frying pan from her hands. Lothiriel stumbled backwards and she looked up as the terrible man hovered over her, the large carving knife gleaming in his hand. " I am going to enjoy this..." He pulled his arm back, getting ready to strike and Lothiriel closed her eyes and protected her face, her thoughts flying to her husband.
'Oh Éomer' she cried inwardly, but the blow did not come, and eventually a warm trickling feeling started to grow stronger on her ankle. Daring to open one eye she looked to the little trickle of blood that was rolling down her ankle. Panting slightly she looked up and her eyes fell on a very dumfounded Maydir. His expression was one of complete bewilderment, but the most striking thing was the silver blade thrust through his chest.
After a time – what seemed like an age, but what must have been mere seconds – Maydir fell to his knees revealing a young girl with tears trickling down her face, her hand still firmly attached to the handle of the giant knife. With one last look of surprise at the blade sticking through his ribcage, the despicable man let out a his last breath and fell to the side dead.
Mayda looked down at her hands covered in the sticky blood of her uncle, and for a long time she just stared.
X X X
Just an epilogue left now. I'm glad you're all enjoying it and that this ending is good enough. I wanted to have Éomer kick his slimy butt, but I thought this would give Mayda the power she needed to overcome her terrible experiences.
The heir of Théodred
Chapter Twelve
"No!" the girl cried, throwing off her heavy mantle and rushing forward towards the armoured figure. She knew who it was. He was her saviour and he would never let anyone hurt her. As she came before him she stopped and looked up as the figure pulled off their helm to reveal Éomer's kindly face. "I'm sorry, but..." She did not have time to finish, because Éomer had dropped to his knees and pulled her into a powerful embrace. Her body ached all over from her injuries, but the girl did not complain, she was safe...at last.
Finally they separated and he got to his feet looking around for Maydir. Amazingly though the monstrous man had fled the court and was nowhere to be seen. Éomer motioned for the armed guards at the door.
"Muster my éored," he called to them, before looking back on his niece. " We will find him and bring him to justice!" Mayda nodded wearily and she looked like she wanted to hug him once more, but he turned on heel to scout out the land to see which way the scoundrel had fled. Lothiriel then fell on her niece and squeezed her tightly.
"Oh my darling," she whispered. "You came to your senses." Mayda winced as one of her wounds had opened and blood started seeping through the thick material of her white gown. Lothiriel noticed and hid her dismay, getting to her feet and holding out her hand to the girl. "Come, let us treat that wound." Mayda nodded gratefully and took her aunt's hand. They walked in a pleasant silence until they reached one of the healing wings of the palace. Lothiriel sat her niece down and gently pulled the neck of the dress back to see many fresh wounds beside the one that had burst open. With a heavy sigh the young queen bathed the wound and dressed it.
"I do not know how you bared this in silence," she whispered, peering down the length of her niece's back and seeing it littered with bruises and cuts. The sight made her blood boil.
"I was afraid," the little girl whispered.
"But you know that you're uncle and I would have protected you," Lothiriel countered desperately, crouching down in front of the girl and taking her shoulders in her hands. Mayda stared at her with tears in her eyes and she shrugged weakly.
"Maydir is cunning auntie, he would have found a way," she uttered, grimly thinking that perhaps even now she wasn't entirely safe yet.
"I can't believe you are related to such a man," Lothiriel grumbled, returning to her task of dressing the wound. To her surprise Mayda started laughing bitterly.
"He is no relation of mine," she sneered. " Not anymore!" Lothiriel remained silent. "Many years ago, ere I was born, my grandfather Maydan of Archanion learned of the despicable behaviour of his only son. He attempted to reason with Maydir, but to no avail, the man was unstoppable. So he was disowned and all his rights to the land and...and to me were waved." Mayda paused and hung her head. "He stayed away while mamma was alive, because the entire village could have protected us if we needed it, but when she died and the village was thrown into chaos, there was no such protection. He reclaimed what in his mind ought to have been his own."
"I cannot believe that my husband's cousin did not write of this in his journals," Lothiriel said sounding humbled by Mayda's story. Her frustration at the girl for hiding all this was fading, and an understanding of her plight was forming in its place. Mayda sighed and shook her head.
"I do believe he did," she said sadly. "But then thought better of it." Lothiriel looked to the girl curiously and Mayda climbed to her feet gingerly. She led her aunt through the corridors to her room where a pile of Théodred's journals lay on her desk. She climbed onto her chair and sorted through them till she found the one she sought. Lothiriel recognised it instantly.
"But that is the one that my dear sister and I unearthed. It is how we were able to find you," she gasped, but she recalled no mention of Maydir, nor any scoring out of any script that might conceal such a mention. Mayda flicked through the pages until she found was she was looking for and pulled pages back as far as they could go. Upon doing this the remains of another page was revealed, one that had evidently been ripped from the binding.
"The prior entry was in the winter of my fourth birthday and I remember that around this time papa met Maydir for the first and only time. Maydir nearly met his end that day, but papa showed him mercy and he escaped into the wild once more," Mayda explained running her fingers over the fine script. "I do believe that my father intended to write out this account in full, but perhaps felt that such a man should not be included in his joyous journal. There is enough pain and suffering in these," she said sadly, waving a hand over three journals that lay to the side. A silence followed in which Mayda's stomach growled profusely. Eventually Lothiriel burst out laughing.
"My darling, let us see to your stomach," she said cheerfully and handed out her hand to her niece. As they walked down the corridor hand in hand a peaceful feeling came over them both. "Don't worry Mayda, they will catch him."
A pair of dark eyes followed them, before a shadow fell from behind a door in the direction of the kitchens.
X X X
Éomer rode his steed hard, it would seem that the rider ahead of them had stolen one of the king's horses as it was similar in speed to Éomer's mighty horse. Behind the thundering of the galloping éored made even the ground shake and yet the rider did not give in. Finally, it would seem that without a good knowledge of the lay of the land the rider came across a river he could not cross and was forced to try and outrun the éored along the banks of the river, but the company closed in and the rider was trapped. Éomer rode forward slightly.
"You will dismount or we will strike you down!" he bellowed. Ahead the rider quickly jumped down and stood hooded waiting for the king to approach. Éomer growled angrily and rode his steed forward, followed by Elfbold, and Grimhelm, second and third in command of the army after Amling. It had been they who had aided the King and their captain in saving Mayda. Once they reached the figure they dismounted and Éomer strode over to the rider stealthily.
"Remove your hood," he ordered gruffly. A low laughter came from beyond the material and in an instant the rider threw back the hood to reveal... " Who are you?" Éomer demanded as an angry murmur when through the éored; they had been chasing the wrong man for the last two hours.
"I am Eradan of Pelargir," the man replied. "May I ask why I am being apprehended?"
"Why were you fleeing from us?" Grimhelm demanded.
"I was not aware you were following me," the man said glibly. " Is this not the road to the East? I was merely travelling home, there is no crime in that." Éomer eyed him darkly.
"And where is your home?" he asked already knowing the answer.
"In the valley of Archanion." Éomer closed his eyes in defeat and he looked back in the direction of Edoras. Then without another word he mounted his horse and spun around. "Eorlingas, back to Edoras!" he shouted and a path formed for their king to take the lead. " We have been deceived," he called to where Elfbold and Grimhelm were guarding their captive. "He rode out while our target remained. Bring him back in chains!" With this he kicked his horse into action and the éored lurched into action once more.
X X X
Lothiriel smiled as she watched her niece devour everything that she placed in front of her. The child was famished after being half-starved for several days, and all she could think of was eating. Eventually she leaned back and breathed out heavily.
"I am so full, I do not think I can move," she laughed contentedly. Lothiriel grinned fondly and moved to clear away the plates.
"That might make my task easier." Lothiriel spun around to see who was standing in the open doorway, but Mayda needed no such confirmation, that voice had plagued her enough times to know who was standing behind her. Upon seeing the furious form of Maydir Lothiriel jumped to protect her niece.
"You!" she hissed. "You are to be thrown into the deepest dungeon! I would not make it worse I were you." Maydir laughed evilly and stepped forward into the light; his expression was manic. Behind her aunt Mayda jumped down from her chair and peered out from beyond her aunt.
"There you are," the man sneered. "You have ruined everything!" Lothiriel scowled at him and stepped forward, but his eyes didn't follow her. She moved to the side and still, he did not pay her any attention. Her eyes flew around and to her left several pans were lined up. Slowly, she started edging towards them.
"I ruined nothing," Mayda hissed seeing what her aunt was planning to do. "Had you been smart uncle," she spat venomously. "You would have remained in Archanion in the house you stole from me, you might have commandeered it for a while." Maydir tilted his head to one side and his eyes gleamed nastily.
"In Archanion?" he asked leeringly. "Girl, should I have remained to let the farmers hunt me down with their pitchforks?" Mayda nodded coolly and she got to her feet feeling terribly bloated. A horrible sneer crossed the man's face and within an instant he had dove forward. Mayda, well used to evading this monster, easily darted to the side and within an instant had crawled under the table to safety. Meanwhile Lothiriel had reached the pans and still Maydir did not pay her the slightest bit of attention.
"Why don't you run Maydir?" Mayda demanded from her hiding place. " My uncle will kill you when he returns!"
"Should I die knowing I ended your pathetic existence then I would die a happy man," Maydir growled and he pushed the table over revealing his niece. She rolled under his grasping hands and through his legs before crawling over to the other side of the kitchen. Maydir wielded around angrily and looked around for a weapon. His eyes fell on a carving knife and within moments it was in his hand. Mayda gulped and looked over to where Lothiriel was now creeping over to Maydir, frying pan in hand.
"If I die, then how does that help you?" Mayda asked shakily, realising she was in an area of the kitchen that was devoid of dangerous looking implements. "Why do you hate me so much?"
"Because you are her daughter," he spat. "She was given everything that ought to have been mine," he added and he kicked one of the chairs clean across the room. "My sister was pathetic, as is her child! Neither of you know a good thing when it is offered to you. Had Maydithil gone to Rohan with that father of yours then I would have become Lord of Archanion, a title I was born to have!" Mayda scrunched up her face in anger and forgetting her peril, stepped forward.
"You gave up your right to that title when you killed the Master's son," she hissed. Maydir twitched visibly and his eyes darkened. "Oh, you would wish to forget about that wouldn't you Maydir? He was innocent and you took his life, you are lucky grandfather merely disowned you and did not turn you in to those that hunted you. You lie, you steal, you...kill. You deserve nothing save death and I hope it finds you soon!" With this Maydir roared and lifted his knife, poised to attack. Lothiriel now took her chance and she leapt forward and hit him as hard as she could across the back of his head.
The blow was blinding, and after a few moments of stumbling Maydir came to his senses. He spun around and his eyes fell on the young woman he had until now not realised was in the room.
"You," he growled and he charged at her, knocking the frying pan from her hands. Lothiriel stumbled backwards and she looked up as the terrible man hovered over her, the large carving knife gleaming in his hand. " I am going to enjoy this..." He pulled his arm back, getting ready to strike and Lothiriel closed her eyes and protected her face, her thoughts flying to her husband.
'Oh Éomer' she cried inwardly, but the blow did not come, and eventually a warm trickling feeling started to grow stronger on her ankle. Daring to open one eye she looked to the little trickle of blood that was rolling down her ankle. Panting slightly she looked up and her eyes fell on a very dumfounded Maydir. His expression was one of complete bewilderment, but the most striking thing was the silver blade thrust through his chest.
After a time – what seemed like an age, but what must have been mere seconds – Maydir fell to his knees revealing a young girl with tears trickling down her face, her hand still firmly attached to the handle of the giant knife. With one last look of surprise at the blade sticking through his ribcage, the despicable man let out a his last breath and fell to the side dead.
Mayda looked down at her hands covered in the sticky blood of her uncle, and for a long time she just stared.
X X X
Just an epilogue left now. I'm glad you're all enjoying it and that this ending is good enough. I wanted to have Éomer kick his slimy butt, but I thought this would give Mayda the power she needed to overcome her terrible experiences.