A/N – I did want to do these stories in chronological order, but I don't
know when I'm going to come up with ideas and I would quite like to write
this story now (idea courtesy of Lady scribe of avendell).
The heir of Théodred
Elfwine
IVth Age, year 3, November 16
Mayda awoke to the sound of hushed whispers coming from behind her door. It took her a moment to figure out that it was Éomer and Lothiriel who were speaking...no arguing. She frowned worriedly; her foster-parents never argued. She climbed out of bed tiredly and walked over to the door. She opened the door to a crack silently and looked up at their anxious faces.
"We should tell her today," Lothiriel whispered. Éomer shook his head ardently.
"Any day, just not today, not on her birthday!" Mayda made a small utterance of surprise, she couldn't believe she had been so disorientated to have forgotten that it was her tenth birthday. Éomer and Lothiriel looked down in shock and saw her face barely visible in the gloom of her room.
"Happy birthday!" they cheered guiltily and swooped down on her with kisses and embraces. Mayda pushed their argument out of her mind as Lothiriel threw the shutters open to reveal the veritable mountain of gifts lying at the bottom of Mayda's grand bed. She yelped with joy and fell upon them. After fifteen minutes the decorative cloth they had been wrapped in lay discarded and Mayda was amazed and touched by her gifts. Her absolute favourite was a grand sword made from black iron that had once belonged to her father. The parchment attached had held a note from her aunt Eowyn, it had merely said – 'For my Mayda, a shieldmaiden of Rohan'. It was such a fine blade that Mayda could only stare at its grandeur.
"I remember that sword," Éomer murmured when he saw it and he fell silent for a while, filled with silent memories of his cousin. Mayda of course attempted to lift the grand blade, but being yet a small child – despite her now reaching ten, she still remained slightly on the small side – she could only lift the hilt.
"Perhaps we shall have it forged again so that it might be suitable for a lady," Lothiriel suggested, but Mayda shook her head adamantly.
"No, if I cannot learn to wield this mighty blade then I should not be fit for battle," she whispered, watching as the light danced over the highly polished dark iron. "Someday I shall be its equal as papa once was," she added as an afterthought. "Does it have a name?" With this she looked to Éomer and he smiled gently.
"Yes," he said proudly. "Anarel, once known as the dark blade Anguirel. It is a fine sword Mayda, and should you wear it I would not fear for your safety." Mayda smiled humbly and felt an immense feeling of vulnerability. So she shuffled over to where her uncle was sitting on the bed and sat down next to him leafing through a book she had been given by the dear Lore Master. Éomer smiled in a resigned way at Lothiriel who was looking at him urgently. He shook his head firmly and placed an arm around his niece's shoulders. Suddenly Mayda jumped to her feet.
"Oh no," she groaned and she rushed to find some britches and an old shirt. With these she rushed into her dressing room leaving Éomer and Lothiriel slightly perplexed, though Lothiriel's expression soon turned into one of silent urgency.
"I do not know why you wish to delay our telling her my love," she said softly. "I feel she will be thrilled at our news." Éomer shrugged meekly.
"Perhaps she will be, though I do not wish to risk her feeling rotten on her birthday," he said and then he smiled charmingly and placed a hand on his wife's stomach. "Is my elation not enough?" Lothiriel grinned happily.
"Of course my love, though I wish for our foster-daughter to know of our happy news..."
"Mathain and Laiken are going to kill me," a muffled voice came from the dressing room and moments later Mayda burst out attempting to fasten her old boots. Éomer and Lothiriel half-smiled at each other. " Last night, I was meant to meet them, they had some sort of surprise in store. Oh they are going to be furious!"
"Well they certainly will be if you wake them at first light," Éomer chuckled and he climbed to his feet. "Come, join us for breakfast." Mayda chewed on her lip in deep thought for a moment, before reluctantly nodding her head.
"Very well, but I must apologise soon," she said sheepishly. "Do you not remember what they did last time I let them down uncle?" Éomer suppressed a snort of laughter by turning it into a spluttering cough. Mayda smiled tiredly at him. "I take it you do. It took months for my eyebrows to grow back," she said anxiously feeling at her thinned eyebrows instinctively. She shuddered at the memory of waking up to find her friends crouched over her with a barber's blade in their hands.
"Well we won't let them do that again," Lothiriel said with a smile and she walked over to the girl and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. " Come on, I hear the kitchen's are preparing a veritable feast in your honour with all your favourite dishes." Mayda's face lit up at this news.
"Even sweet pastries and those treacle things that..." Lothiriel beamed at her.
"Though I certainly don't approve of such things first thing in the morning, I daresay that they might have prepared those delicacies for you my darling," she said with a twinkle in her eye. Mayda punched the air in triumph and ran ahead of her foster-parents, leaving Éomer to kiss Lothiriel's cheek with an adoring smile.
"If you disapprove so my love, then why did you organise it?" he asked charmingly. Lothiriel shrugged her shoulders and donned a thoughtful expression.
"Out of love," she eventually replied with a smile.
X X X
An hour later a much rounder Mayda waddled out of the great hall feeling bloated and yet so wonderfully satisfied. She had delighted in trying every dish the cooks had presented to the royal party and even when she began to feel like a stuffed beast, her sweet tooth would not relinquish its hold over her. Sweet foods were quite a rarity in blustery Rohan. With only a few months of suitable weather, it had not the climate to grow the sugar cane. A few regions in the south of Gondor were able to grow the crop for half the year, yet the demand for it in the North was high ensuring it came at a high price and Rohan rarely traded in it. It would seem though that the tenth birthday, an important day in the lives of the Rohirrim, of the royal princess was a suitable occasion to dip into the small stockpile.
As a result of the rarity of such fine cuisine Mayda had only stopped eating when her stomach protested so much at being stretched beyond all measure, that it threatened to bring it all back up again. She had reluctantly abandoned the feast in dire need of fresh air – despite it being rather cold at this time of year – her pockets stuffed with as many treats as she could fit into them. It would seem though, that her timing was quite unfortunate.
"Well well, if it isn't our good friend the princess," the voice of a putout sounding Mathain came. Mayda looked up with a look of pure guilt to find all three of her best friends standing on one of the lower steps. The twins were looking nothing short of ticked off, but their friend Arin was staring at Mayda with a confused expression.
"Why are you so fat?" she finally asked. Mayda looked down at her belly and realised that her shirt was straining over it. To call her fat was in itself quite outrageous, as all four companions were nothing but skin and bones due to the fact that they were always running about and rarely home for meals. The young princess quickly pulled her bloated stomach in and made her way down to the other children uncomfortably.
"I have just eaten my weight in sugar I swear," she groaned and she reached into her pockets and showed her friends the leftovers she had brought them. In an instant the foul looks had fallen from the twins' faces and the three children pounced on the tarts and cakes. Within no time all four were lying on the frost bitten grass that adorned the slopes of Edoras that were too steep to build on, bellies full and with smiles on their faces, Mayda's forgetfulness from the night before seemingly forgotten.
"I could lie here all day," Arin said contentedly. Her friends instantly looked at her with identical disgruntled expressions.
"I couldn't," Mathain said.
"Too cold," Laiken countered and she shivered.
"Aye, and boring," Mayda added. "But until this..." She patted her full belly cheerfully. "Goes down I am helpless to do anything save lie here." The others chuckled.
"At least it's the weather for it," Laiken said cheerfully.
"Yes, it could be raining," Mathain added, but then he added quickly in order to save them from a potential sod's law situation, "I mean not yet..." The others laughed out loud at his superstitions before looking back to the chilly yet clear blue sky that hung over them.
"So what did you get for your birthday?" Arin asked dreamily. Mayda opened her mouth to speak, her thoughts wandering to where her mighty new sword lay on her bed still swathed in the cloth she had received it in.
"Oh that reminds me! You haven't even seen what we got you yet, you have to get up!" Laiken suddenly burst out and she jumped to her feet. Mayda looked at her in disbelief, but to her horror was dragged to her feet and half-way across Edoras until they reached the house that Mathain and Laiken shared with their three sisters and their parents. Hand on stomach and sure that she was going to be sick, Mayda fought back the urge to retch as her friends rushed inside.
Moments later though these thoughts were pushed clean from her minds as her eyes fell on her 'present'.
"By the Valar!" she gasped and she dropped to her knees. " Oh he is so sweet!" Her hands fell on the pup that bounded at her happily.
"It turns out that old Greda was carrying pups in the end," Laiken said and she couldn't keep from smiling when she saw how happy Mayda seemed.
"And there was us thinking she was getting fat," Mathain said with one eyebrow raised as though he still thought their old hound Greda was rather fat. "We've sold most of the pups, but we begged papa if we could give you one." Then without warning Mayda had jumped to her feet and thrown her arms around the twins' necks.
"This is the best present ever!" she squealed excitedly. " Come, let us show my aunt and uncle." Herewith four excited children and one extremely excited pup rushed up the hill to the steps of the great hall. They burst in to find that most of the courtiers were still dining, but everyone stopped and stared as the little ensemble skidded to a halt on the polished floors. Mayda ignored their curious glances and reached down to pick up her new pet. As she approached her aunt and uncle their expressions were ones of unease.
"Look!" the girl cried when she reached them and she dropped the pup on the table, oblivious to how disgruntled they looked. "This is what Laiken and Mathain wanted to see me about." Éomer adopted a confounded expression.
"Have you truly never seen a dog before?" he asked, blindly hoping that this was the reason she had burst in with this animal. Mayda beamed at him and jumped down next to him on the bench as her new pet began to lick one of the empty plates.
"No silly," she giggled. "They have given him..." She paused a moment and leaned down, studying the underbelly of the animal. "I mean her to me for my birthday."
"O..oh, that is wonderful!" Lothiriel managed elbowing Éomer in his ribs, he had looked as though he wanted very much to express how much of a bad idea he thought this was. Both had contemplated the idea of giving Mayda a pet before, and had independently come to the conclusion that it could only mean more chaos.
"What are you going to call it?" Arin asked somewhat jealously. Mayda shrugged happily and jumped off the bench again, picking up her new prize and dropping the fluffy pup on the floor.
"Come, let us make her a bed in my chamber," she said and she ran off with her friends and the little pup in pursuit leaving Éomer and Lothiriel slightly anxious. Eventually Lothiriel shook herself out of her of her thoughts involving lots of mess and chaos and she burst out laughing.
"Look at us," she laughed. "We are acting as though she had just walked in with an orc as a pet, it is only a small pup my love. Perhaps it will help her deal better with our news." Éomer smiled and nodded.
"As usual, you are right my love," he said.
"May we tell her this evening then?" Lothiriel asked fidgeting from her giddiness at finding out she was with child. Éomer sighed heavily and he nodded. The young woman cheered happily and threw her arms around his neck planting a kiss firmly on his cheek. "Oh she will be delighted, I just know it!"
Éomer sighed, hoping this would not be the first time his wife's women's intuition failed her.
X X X
Being still full from breakfast the young princess passed up lunch and instead spent the entire day getting acquainted with her new pup. It had taken her a long time to find an adequate name, but eventually, after her eyes had fallen on a book she was reading about one of the heroes from the first age – Túrin Turambar – she knew instantly what to call the dog.
"Lalaith," she said firmly, thinking of the little sister of Túrin who perished when she was yet in childhood. Her companions looked to her curiously. "It means 'laughter'. She seems to be such a happy little spirit. It is quite fitting." Her friends nodded in agreement and they spent the entire afternoon playing with Lalaith. When dinner time rolled by Mayda's friends were reluctant to go home, yet their reluctance was nothing compared to the princess' reluctance at being forced into the bath and dressed in one of her finest gowns for the evening feast where many important guests had been invited to – including, unbeknownst to the young rascal, her beloved aunt Eowyn and uncle Faramir and young cousin Elboron.
Eventually the time came to make her way to the great hall and Mayda was summoned by a knock on her door. She greeted her foster-parents at the door brushing off their praise on how wonderful she looked with complaints of how she felt she looked like a show pony. She found it near impossible to tear herself away from her whining little pup, but after several attempts to sneak her out of the room, Éomer dragged her away while Lothiriel shut the door.
They made their way along the corridors chatting amiably about the guests until suddenly they reached the hall and Mayda let out an actual screech of happiness when she saw the party from Ithilien were sitting at the head table. Manners and courtesy completely thrown out the window, the girl bounded across the hall into the awaiting arms of the Prince and Lady of Ithilien.
"Oh you've grown too much!" Eowyn said fondly. Mayda grinned and pulled away looking from one happy face to the other.
"No, Master Hamlingson says that I am still short for my age. Though I am taller than Mathain," she said proudly and her eyes fell on her cousin, who she very much felt of as a younger brother. "Elboron!"
"Mayda!" the infant boy replied with as much vigour as his older cousin. The princess dropped to her knees and pulled the little boy into a powerful embrace. As Éomer and Lothiriel arrived they found Mayda telling the others all about her pup and how unfair it was that she had not been allowed to take Lalaith to dinner with her. Éomer exchanged a fond smile with his sister before he took his seat, both picturing what a fiasco it would have been had they indulged the girl in her request. As the royal party took their seats everyone raised a goblet full of Meduseld's finest wine and toasted to the health and happiness of the young princess. Even Mayda was permitted to drink the wine, but halfway through the feast she hiccupped quite unceremoniously and her goblet was quickly taken from her hand by the nearest adult: Faramir. She gave him her most doe-eyed pouting expression, but it had the opposite affect on him than the one she intended and he burst out laughing.
"You are so much like your aunt," he laughed and he ruffled her neatly pinned hair. This brought a smile back to the young girl's face. "I do not know how you resist her charms," he added looking to Éomer and Lothiriel. Éomer raised his eyebrows.
"She doesn't," he said indicating his wife with a nod of the head. She feigned an insulted utterance and swatted at him with her serviette.
"She is the cat's mother," she said.
"Well cat's mother or no, you still let the girl do as she wishes," Éomer laughed. Lothiriel beamed at her husband.
"Was it not you who I caught sneaking her out to go for a late night hunt when it was well beyond her curfew?" she asked fondly. Her husband looked slightly sheepish and shrugged apologetically.
"Ah so you have started hunting Mayda?" Eowyn asked interestedly. Mayda nodded with an obvious expression.
"I have been hunting for a little short of two years," she said. " Surely I have told you?" Eowyn shook her head, which was enough for the girl to start on a very detailed description of her previous successes and near misses.
And so the hours rolled by in pleasant conversation with a reunited family happily enjoying each other's company. Once the Rohirric drinking songs began, Eowyn jumped to her feet to bring her sleepy three-year-old son to bed. Lothiriel cast Éomer a significant look and he nodded resignedly. So they too excused themselves and led Mayda to her room. Éomer waited in the corridor whilst his wife helped Mayda out of her delicate gown and into her nightdress and then he was 'summoned'. As he entered he found Mayda sitting on the pile of tattered cushions her new pet had managed to shred, her arms around the dog and Lothiriel hovering behind her looking slightly anxious now the time had come. He wrapped an arm around her waist for comfort and support before clearing his throat. The girl looked up curiously.
"There is something we must speak with you of," he said and he gingerly sat down on one of the remaining undamaged cushions next to his foster- daughter. She frowned worriedly and shuffled over to him. Éomer reached up and taking Lothiriel's hand pulled her down at his side.
"Have I done something naughty?" Mayda asked worriedly, casting her dozing pup an anxious glance. Lothiriel quickly shook her head.
"No my darling, of course not!" she said quickly and she reached out and took Mayda's hand.
"Well then what is it?" Mayda asked worriedly. "Are you ill?" Lothiriel shook her head vehemently once more.
"Far from it," she said passionately. "Mayda," she began placing her free hand on her belly. Mayda's eyes fell to her hand and her eyes went wide, guessing what Lothiriel was about to say. "I am with child, we are going to have a baby." Mayda snatched back her hand and she simply stared at Lothiriel's stomach. Éomer looked to his wife darkly, he had been afraid she might react like this. He wrapped an arm around Mayda's small shoulders and shook her slightly.
"Mayda?" he said softly. "Will you not say anything?" Mayda snapped her eyes on him and she opened and closed her mouth wordlessly.
"Uh..." she uttered and she swallowed deeply, unable to say anything, unsure of what to think. An indescribable anger was making her blood boil and her skin creep. She was not well accustomed with the emotion jealousy and was therefore caught out by it. "A baby?" she finally managed incredulously. Lothiriel nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. Mayda jumped to her feet suddenly and she looked down at Lothiriel's distraught face and Éomer's dark one. "I have to..." But what it was she was going to do her foster- parents did not find out as she ran from her room leaving them alone.
X X X
Okay, so I fibbed, I'm not going to finish them all before I post them, because this is going to be quite long. So I'll do it in three, maybe four parts. So here's part one, more to come soon.
A/N – The sword Anarel is Anguirel, a sword from the days of Beleriand, forged again. It was created by and once belonged to Eöl, a dark Elf. It had a famous mate named Anglachal, which belonged to Turin and was buried with him, but the fate of Anguirel is unknown as after Maeglin, Eöl's son, stole it from him it was brought to Gondolin after which nothing more is heard of it. In my version of events it went from Gondolin to Doriath, where it was forged again and given to Galadriel as a gift. She brought it across to the East where she parted with it, because she believed it to have a dark destiny, and eventually it came to the Royal line of Rohan. When it came to Théodred he too sensed a dark side to the blade and did not often fight with it and was thus not buried with it – it seems strange to add so much history to this one item, but I want it to be of importance in a later story.
The heir of Théodred
Elfwine
IVth Age, year 3, November 16
Mayda awoke to the sound of hushed whispers coming from behind her door. It took her a moment to figure out that it was Éomer and Lothiriel who were speaking...no arguing. She frowned worriedly; her foster-parents never argued. She climbed out of bed tiredly and walked over to the door. She opened the door to a crack silently and looked up at their anxious faces.
"We should tell her today," Lothiriel whispered. Éomer shook his head ardently.
"Any day, just not today, not on her birthday!" Mayda made a small utterance of surprise, she couldn't believe she had been so disorientated to have forgotten that it was her tenth birthday. Éomer and Lothiriel looked down in shock and saw her face barely visible in the gloom of her room.
"Happy birthday!" they cheered guiltily and swooped down on her with kisses and embraces. Mayda pushed their argument out of her mind as Lothiriel threw the shutters open to reveal the veritable mountain of gifts lying at the bottom of Mayda's grand bed. She yelped with joy and fell upon them. After fifteen minutes the decorative cloth they had been wrapped in lay discarded and Mayda was amazed and touched by her gifts. Her absolute favourite was a grand sword made from black iron that had once belonged to her father. The parchment attached had held a note from her aunt Eowyn, it had merely said – 'For my Mayda, a shieldmaiden of Rohan'. It was such a fine blade that Mayda could only stare at its grandeur.
"I remember that sword," Éomer murmured when he saw it and he fell silent for a while, filled with silent memories of his cousin. Mayda of course attempted to lift the grand blade, but being yet a small child – despite her now reaching ten, she still remained slightly on the small side – she could only lift the hilt.
"Perhaps we shall have it forged again so that it might be suitable for a lady," Lothiriel suggested, but Mayda shook her head adamantly.
"No, if I cannot learn to wield this mighty blade then I should not be fit for battle," she whispered, watching as the light danced over the highly polished dark iron. "Someday I shall be its equal as papa once was," she added as an afterthought. "Does it have a name?" With this she looked to Éomer and he smiled gently.
"Yes," he said proudly. "Anarel, once known as the dark blade Anguirel. It is a fine sword Mayda, and should you wear it I would not fear for your safety." Mayda smiled humbly and felt an immense feeling of vulnerability. So she shuffled over to where her uncle was sitting on the bed and sat down next to him leafing through a book she had been given by the dear Lore Master. Éomer smiled in a resigned way at Lothiriel who was looking at him urgently. He shook his head firmly and placed an arm around his niece's shoulders. Suddenly Mayda jumped to her feet.
"Oh no," she groaned and she rushed to find some britches and an old shirt. With these she rushed into her dressing room leaving Éomer and Lothiriel slightly perplexed, though Lothiriel's expression soon turned into one of silent urgency.
"I do not know why you wish to delay our telling her my love," she said softly. "I feel she will be thrilled at our news." Éomer shrugged meekly.
"Perhaps she will be, though I do not wish to risk her feeling rotten on her birthday," he said and then he smiled charmingly and placed a hand on his wife's stomach. "Is my elation not enough?" Lothiriel grinned happily.
"Of course my love, though I wish for our foster-daughter to know of our happy news..."
"Mathain and Laiken are going to kill me," a muffled voice came from the dressing room and moments later Mayda burst out attempting to fasten her old boots. Éomer and Lothiriel half-smiled at each other. " Last night, I was meant to meet them, they had some sort of surprise in store. Oh they are going to be furious!"
"Well they certainly will be if you wake them at first light," Éomer chuckled and he climbed to his feet. "Come, join us for breakfast." Mayda chewed on her lip in deep thought for a moment, before reluctantly nodding her head.
"Very well, but I must apologise soon," she said sheepishly. "Do you not remember what they did last time I let them down uncle?" Éomer suppressed a snort of laughter by turning it into a spluttering cough. Mayda smiled tiredly at him. "I take it you do. It took months for my eyebrows to grow back," she said anxiously feeling at her thinned eyebrows instinctively. She shuddered at the memory of waking up to find her friends crouched over her with a barber's blade in their hands.
"Well we won't let them do that again," Lothiriel said with a smile and she walked over to the girl and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. " Come on, I hear the kitchen's are preparing a veritable feast in your honour with all your favourite dishes." Mayda's face lit up at this news.
"Even sweet pastries and those treacle things that..." Lothiriel beamed at her.
"Though I certainly don't approve of such things first thing in the morning, I daresay that they might have prepared those delicacies for you my darling," she said with a twinkle in her eye. Mayda punched the air in triumph and ran ahead of her foster-parents, leaving Éomer to kiss Lothiriel's cheek with an adoring smile.
"If you disapprove so my love, then why did you organise it?" he asked charmingly. Lothiriel shrugged her shoulders and donned a thoughtful expression.
"Out of love," she eventually replied with a smile.
X X X
An hour later a much rounder Mayda waddled out of the great hall feeling bloated and yet so wonderfully satisfied. She had delighted in trying every dish the cooks had presented to the royal party and even when she began to feel like a stuffed beast, her sweet tooth would not relinquish its hold over her. Sweet foods were quite a rarity in blustery Rohan. With only a few months of suitable weather, it had not the climate to grow the sugar cane. A few regions in the south of Gondor were able to grow the crop for half the year, yet the demand for it in the North was high ensuring it came at a high price and Rohan rarely traded in it. It would seem though that the tenth birthday, an important day in the lives of the Rohirrim, of the royal princess was a suitable occasion to dip into the small stockpile.
As a result of the rarity of such fine cuisine Mayda had only stopped eating when her stomach protested so much at being stretched beyond all measure, that it threatened to bring it all back up again. She had reluctantly abandoned the feast in dire need of fresh air – despite it being rather cold at this time of year – her pockets stuffed with as many treats as she could fit into them. It would seem though, that her timing was quite unfortunate.
"Well well, if it isn't our good friend the princess," the voice of a putout sounding Mathain came. Mayda looked up with a look of pure guilt to find all three of her best friends standing on one of the lower steps. The twins were looking nothing short of ticked off, but their friend Arin was staring at Mayda with a confused expression.
"Why are you so fat?" she finally asked. Mayda looked down at her belly and realised that her shirt was straining over it. To call her fat was in itself quite outrageous, as all four companions were nothing but skin and bones due to the fact that they were always running about and rarely home for meals. The young princess quickly pulled her bloated stomach in and made her way down to the other children uncomfortably.
"I have just eaten my weight in sugar I swear," she groaned and she reached into her pockets and showed her friends the leftovers she had brought them. In an instant the foul looks had fallen from the twins' faces and the three children pounced on the tarts and cakes. Within no time all four were lying on the frost bitten grass that adorned the slopes of Edoras that were too steep to build on, bellies full and with smiles on their faces, Mayda's forgetfulness from the night before seemingly forgotten.
"I could lie here all day," Arin said contentedly. Her friends instantly looked at her with identical disgruntled expressions.
"I couldn't," Mathain said.
"Too cold," Laiken countered and she shivered.
"Aye, and boring," Mayda added. "But until this..." She patted her full belly cheerfully. "Goes down I am helpless to do anything save lie here." The others chuckled.
"At least it's the weather for it," Laiken said cheerfully.
"Yes, it could be raining," Mathain added, but then he added quickly in order to save them from a potential sod's law situation, "I mean not yet..." The others laughed out loud at his superstitions before looking back to the chilly yet clear blue sky that hung over them.
"So what did you get for your birthday?" Arin asked dreamily. Mayda opened her mouth to speak, her thoughts wandering to where her mighty new sword lay on her bed still swathed in the cloth she had received it in.
"Oh that reminds me! You haven't even seen what we got you yet, you have to get up!" Laiken suddenly burst out and she jumped to her feet. Mayda looked at her in disbelief, but to her horror was dragged to her feet and half-way across Edoras until they reached the house that Mathain and Laiken shared with their three sisters and their parents. Hand on stomach and sure that she was going to be sick, Mayda fought back the urge to retch as her friends rushed inside.
Moments later though these thoughts were pushed clean from her minds as her eyes fell on her 'present'.
"By the Valar!" she gasped and she dropped to her knees. " Oh he is so sweet!" Her hands fell on the pup that bounded at her happily.
"It turns out that old Greda was carrying pups in the end," Laiken said and she couldn't keep from smiling when she saw how happy Mayda seemed.
"And there was us thinking she was getting fat," Mathain said with one eyebrow raised as though he still thought their old hound Greda was rather fat. "We've sold most of the pups, but we begged papa if we could give you one." Then without warning Mayda had jumped to her feet and thrown her arms around the twins' necks.
"This is the best present ever!" she squealed excitedly. " Come, let us show my aunt and uncle." Herewith four excited children and one extremely excited pup rushed up the hill to the steps of the great hall. They burst in to find that most of the courtiers were still dining, but everyone stopped and stared as the little ensemble skidded to a halt on the polished floors. Mayda ignored their curious glances and reached down to pick up her new pet. As she approached her aunt and uncle their expressions were ones of unease.
"Look!" the girl cried when she reached them and she dropped the pup on the table, oblivious to how disgruntled they looked. "This is what Laiken and Mathain wanted to see me about." Éomer adopted a confounded expression.
"Have you truly never seen a dog before?" he asked, blindly hoping that this was the reason she had burst in with this animal. Mayda beamed at him and jumped down next to him on the bench as her new pet began to lick one of the empty plates.
"No silly," she giggled. "They have given him..." She paused a moment and leaned down, studying the underbelly of the animal. "I mean her to me for my birthday."
"O..oh, that is wonderful!" Lothiriel managed elbowing Éomer in his ribs, he had looked as though he wanted very much to express how much of a bad idea he thought this was. Both had contemplated the idea of giving Mayda a pet before, and had independently come to the conclusion that it could only mean more chaos.
"What are you going to call it?" Arin asked somewhat jealously. Mayda shrugged happily and jumped off the bench again, picking up her new prize and dropping the fluffy pup on the floor.
"Come, let us make her a bed in my chamber," she said and she ran off with her friends and the little pup in pursuit leaving Éomer and Lothiriel slightly anxious. Eventually Lothiriel shook herself out of her of her thoughts involving lots of mess and chaos and she burst out laughing.
"Look at us," she laughed. "We are acting as though she had just walked in with an orc as a pet, it is only a small pup my love. Perhaps it will help her deal better with our news." Éomer smiled and nodded.
"As usual, you are right my love," he said.
"May we tell her this evening then?" Lothiriel asked fidgeting from her giddiness at finding out she was with child. Éomer sighed heavily and he nodded. The young woman cheered happily and threw her arms around his neck planting a kiss firmly on his cheek. "Oh she will be delighted, I just know it!"
Éomer sighed, hoping this would not be the first time his wife's women's intuition failed her.
X X X
Being still full from breakfast the young princess passed up lunch and instead spent the entire day getting acquainted with her new pup. It had taken her a long time to find an adequate name, but eventually, after her eyes had fallen on a book she was reading about one of the heroes from the first age – Túrin Turambar – she knew instantly what to call the dog.
"Lalaith," she said firmly, thinking of the little sister of Túrin who perished when she was yet in childhood. Her companions looked to her curiously. "It means 'laughter'. She seems to be such a happy little spirit. It is quite fitting." Her friends nodded in agreement and they spent the entire afternoon playing with Lalaith. When dinner time rolled by Mayda's friends were reluctant to go home, yet their reluctance was nothing compared to the princess' reluctance at being forced into the bath and dressed in one of her finest gowns for the evening feast where many important guests had been invited to – including, unbeknownst to the young rascal, her beloved aunt Eowyn and uncle Faramir and young cousin Elboron.
Eventually the time came to make her way to the great hall and Mayda was summoned by a knock on her door. She greeted her foster-parents at the door brushing off their praise on how wonderful she looked with complaints of how she felt she looked like a show pony. She found it near impossible to tear herself away from her whining little pup, but after several attempts to sneak her out of the room, Éomer dragged her away while Lothiriel shut the door.
They made their way along the corridors chatting amiably about the guests until suddenly they reached the hall and Mayda let out an actual screech of happiness when she saw the party from Ithilien were sitting at the head table. Manners and courtesy completely thrown out the window, the girl bounded across the hall into the awaiting arms of the Prince and Lady of Ithilien.
"Oh you've grown too much!" Eowyn said fondly. Mayda grinned and pulled away looking from one happy face to the other.
"No, Master Hamlingson says that I am still short for my age. Though I am taller than Mathain," she said proudly and her eyes fell on her cousin, who she very much felt of as a younger brother. "Elboron!"
"Mayda!" the infant boy replied with as much vigour as his older cousin. The princess dropped to her knees and pulled the little boy into a powerful embrace. As Éomer and Lothiriel arrived they found Mayda telling the others all about her pup and how unfair it was that she had not been allowed to take Lalaith to dinner with her. Éomer exchanged a fond smile with his sister before he took his seat, both picturing what a fiasco it would have been had they indulged the girl in her request. As the royal party took their seats everyone raised a goblet full of Meduseld's finest wine and toasted to the health and happiness of the young princess. Even Mayda was permitted to drink the wine, but halfway through the feast she hiccupped quite unceremoniously and her goblet was quickly taken from her hand by the nearest adult: Faramir. She gave him her most doe-eyed pouting expression, but it had the opposite affect on him than the one she intended and he burst out laughing.
"You are so much like your aunt," he laughed and he ruffled her neatly pinned hair. This brought a smile back to the young girl's face. "I do not know how you resist her charms," he added looking to Éomer and Lothiriel. Éomer raised his eyebrows.
"She doesn't," he said indicating his wife with a nod of the head. She feigned an insulted utterance and swatted at him with her serviette.
"She is the cat's mother," she said.
"Well cat's mother or no, you still let the girl do as she wishes," Éomer laughed. Lothiriel beamed at her husband.
"Was it not you who I caught sneaking her out to go for a late night hunt when it was well beyond her curfew?" she asked fondly. Her husband looked slightly sheepish and shrugged apologetically.
"Ah so you have started hunting Mayda?" Eowyn asked interestedly. Mayda nodded with an obvious expression.
"I have been hunting for a little short of two years," she said. " Surely I have told you?" Eowyn shook her head, which was enough for the girl to start on a very detailed description of her previous successes and near misses.
And so the hours rolled by in pleasant conversation with a reunited family happily enjoying each other's company. Once the Rohirric drinking songs began, Eowyn jumped to her feet to bring her sleepy three-year-old son to bed. Lothiriel cast Éomer a significant look and he nodded resignedly. So they too excused themselves and led Mayda to her room. Éomer waited in the corridor whilst his wife helped Mayda out of her delicate gown and into her nightdress and then he was 'summoned'. As he entered he found Mayda sitting on the pile of tattered cushions her new pet had managed to shred, her arms around the dog and Lothiriel hovering behind her looking slightly anxious now the time had come. He wrapped an arm around her waist for comfort and support before clearing his throat. The girl looked up curiously.
"There is something we must speak with you of," he said and he gingerly sat down on one of the remaining undamaged cushions next to his foster- daughter. She frowned worriedly and shuffled over to him. Éomer reached up and taking Lothiriel's hand pulled her down at his side.
"Have I done something naughty?" Mayda asked worriedly, casting her dozing pup an anxious glance. Lothiriel quickly shook her head.
"No my darling, of course not!" she said quickly and she reached out and took Mayda's hand.
"Well then what is it?" Mayda asked worriedly. "Are you ill?" Lothiriel shook her head vehemently once more.
"Far from it," she said passionately. "Mayda," she began placing her free hand on her belly. Mayda's eyes fell to her hand and her eyes went wide, guessing what Lothiriel was about to say. "I am with child, we are going to have a baby." Mayda snatched back her hand and she simply stared at Lothiriel's stomach. Éomer looked to his wife darkly, he had been afraid she might react like this. He wrapped an arm around Mayda's small shoulders and shook her slightly.
"Mayda?" he said softly. "Will you not say anything?" Mayda snapped her eyes on him and she opened and closed her mouth wordlessly.
"Uh..." she uttered and she swallowed deeply, unable to say anything, unsure of what to think. An indescribable anger was making her blood boil and her skin creep. She was not well accustomed with the emotion jealousy and was therefore caught out by it. "A baby?" she finally managed incredulously. Lothiriel nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. Mayda jumped to her feet suddenly and she looked down at Lothiriel's distraught face and Éomer's dark one. "I have to..." But what it was she was going to do her foster- parents did not find out as she ran from her room leaving them alone.
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Okay, so I fibbed, I'm not going to finish them all before I post them, because this is going to be quite long. So I'll do it in three, maybe four parts. So here's part one, more to come soon.
A/N – The sword Anarel is Anguirel, a sword from the days of Beleriand, forged again. It was created by and once belonged to Eöl, a dark Elf. It had a famous mate named Anglachal, which belonged to Turin and was buried with him, but the fate of Anguirel is unknown as after Maeglin, Eöl's son, stole it from him it was brought to Gondolin after which nothing more is heard of it. In my version of events it went from Gondolin to Doriath, where it was forged again and given to Galadriel as a gift. She brought it across to the East where she parted with it, because she believed it to have a dark destiny, and eventually it came to the Royal line of Rohan. When it came to Théodred he too sensed a dark side to the blade and did not often fight with it and was thus not buried with it – it seems strange to add so much history to this one item, but I want it to be of importance in a later story.