Sorry for the long delay, been back at uni without internet...and now I actually have to work and maintain a social life, so my days of sitting in front of the computer drifting off into my own private dream world have been put on hold till the summer. Hope you enjoy, I had major writer's block as this is going way off topic, but Christmas is nearing – though looking in the shop windows here no one could blame you for thinking it was already the festive season, but hey – so I was feeling a little...well festive.

The heir of Théodred

Elfwine: Part Six

Over breakfast Mayda's face was not a picture of happiness, as one would expect, instead she donned a sour thoughtful look and was staring straight ahead at a wall. It amused her foster-parents no end, but eventually they felt they had to ask what was on her mind.

"Has the wall said something to offend you?" Éomer asked with feigned-seriousness. "For I shall have it knocked down and burned as firewood if it has done so." Mayda jerked out of her reverie and looked at her uncle blankly for a moment, before she realised what he had said and cracked a sarcastic smile.

"I was thinking," she said firmly.

"May we enquire as to what about?" Lothiriel asked with a fond smile.

"Yes you may. I was thinking of a man," the girl began, but for a moment she was interrupted by Éomer choking on his drink and after several splutters he looked at his niece with a horrified expression. Mayda frowned discomfited, before looking on Lothiriel for advice, but her aunt was too busy trying to suppress her hearty laughter that was about to irrupt. "He was the captain of the eored I encountered in the East," Mayda added in an obvious tone. Éomer suddenly smiled broadly, his horror forgotten.

"Ah! So you encountered Amwing," he said knowingly. Mayda frowned even more heavily and yet also managed to raise one eyebrow in a slightly disgusted manner.

"You know him?" she asked sounding putout.

"Of course I know him," Éomer replied cheerily, and then noticed the expression his niece was donning. "What is wrong with you girl?"

"He told me to give you his regards," she stated. "Uncle who is he?"

"Amwing once lived here in Edoras many years ago. He was a great friend of both your father and myself. A mere two months before your father's fateful demise, his heart was wounded almost beyond repair when his wife and son were taken from him by the foul folk. Inconsolable he fled away to the East to rid himself of the pain this place caused him. I believe that since, he has fought away those demons, but he will never return," Éomer explained. "And I rarely have time to visit the East and break bread with him, yet, he remains a true friend, one that has seen too much hardship." Mayda gulped and looked away; she felt wicked for the thoughts that she had had about this man.

"I must apologise uncle," she eventually said guiltily.

"How so?" Éomer asked with a small smile.

"I thought rudely of him when I ought not, and I would not have had I known of his past, but uncle..." She paused and grew slightly pink. "I found him to be very odd!" To her surprise Éomer burst out laughing.

"Well that certainly sounds like Amwing," he chuckled. "Though perhaps, your long absence from our ways has made you slightly prudish like our southern neighbours," he added with a sneaky grin. Mayda dropped her jaw ready to go off on a tirade to defend her character, but then a smile spread over her face.

"Yes, you may be right uncle," she said sheepishly. "But it has been rather fun acting refined!"

"You know," Lothiriel began with a smile. "You may too act refined here in Rohan if you wish." Mayda shook her head looking genuinely affronted.

"It would be boring playing refined on my own," she explained as though this much at least was obvious. Her response caused her uncle and aunt to burst out laughing, but it took several minutes for the girl to realise why. "No I was talking about Mathain and the girls. I do not think that they would like to pretend that they are refined."

"I thought you children loved pretend games," Éomer said with a smile as he recalled an occasion when the four rascals came traipsing into an official assembly dressed in rags and animal furs, covered head to toe in mud and howling like wild animals. Afterwards they had explained they were pretending to be Dunlendings, but not before they had caused chaos amongst the scholars, lords and visiting ambassadors. It had taken Éomer at least an hour to reassure the assembly that the Princess of the Mark was not a barbarian.

"Well yes, but pretending to be refined would be so boring unless Dior and Huor were playing too," the girl explained, and for a moment her eyes glazed over in admiration. Éomer shifted uncomfortably with the mention of these two boys that had seemingly sidetracked his foster daughter's admiration from himself; something that earned him an adoring smile from his wife. He didn't have time to voice his concerns though, because in a loud flurry of activity three little people suddenly came bursting into the great hall, their identities hidden under heavy cloaks. Within moments however, these were thrown aside and Mayda's close friends piled on top of her before she had the chance to take but two steps from the table.

"Happy Mettarë," all three intruders cheered joyously and they finally let go of the princess.

"You did not have to flatten me," Mayda laughed and wiped the snow the children had dragged in with them from her clothes. The children quickly dragged Mayda away from her foster parents before huddling around her.

"So what are your plans for this year's parade princess?" Mathain asked with a rogue-like grin. Mayda frowned curiously.

"I had not yet thought about it..." she replied softly. The others grinned at each other.

"Well you had better think quickly Mayda, everyone is expecting something better than last year," Arin said cheerfully. Mayda smiled despite herself.

"Really, who?" she asked, her ego inflating despite herself. By the time her friends had finished telling her of the hopes of Edoras' scallywag population, Mayda was convinced that she was going to have to come up with some brilliant plan to reinstate her reputation as supreme troublemaker of Rohan.

"I shall have to think about it," she said distantly, her mind already scheming away. "In three hours I will seek you out, hopefully with a plan!"

"Ah, but not before our Mettarë tradition Mayda," Mathain said gleefully, helping the girls lead their friend towards the main doors. Mayda frowned.

"What tradition?" she asked. "We have no such thing!" By now they had reached the grand wooden doors and before Mayda could object she was unceremoniously thrust through them into the cold snowy morning. Before the young princess could open her mouth to complain she suddenly became the subject of an onslaught of snowballs whilst her friends hid and giggled from behind the doors. Despite herself she screamed and jumped behind one of the mighty columns holding up the roof of the golden hall. "You scoundrels! This is no tradition of ours! It happened on one occasion and I recall being extremely cross that you had allowed the entire village to ridicule me in this way!"

"We wanted to make it a tradition!" Laiken called back sounding as though she were in a state of glee. Mayda let out an extremely exasperated sigh before gathering her wits together in order to formulate a reasonable escape plan that would hopefully leave her relatively dry. As she looked around her eyes fell on one of the ornate shields that had adorned the walls of the Golden Hall for many generations as a symbol of might and dominance. For a moment the girl faltered; the chances of her being unpunished for tampering with one of the mighty shields were slim, but if she were to risk braving the onslaught unprotected then she might very well end up back in her bed with a fever and she couldn't have that. So without further ado she lunged forward ripping the nearest shield from its platform, before running as fast as her legs could carry her around the side of the Golden Hall. As she had suspected, more of the village's riffraff were waiting to pummel her, but she soldiered on until she reached the side entrance she knew would be unlocked. Once inside the warmth and protection of her home Mayda grinned devilishly.

"Oh my friends," she uttered. "You had better be alert this evening, for now you too shall fall victim to my plan..." She paused and leaned the grand shield against the wall, before standing back to think. "Whatever that plan may be," she added cheerfully, before running back to her room to change into some dry clothes.

"The shields of Éol are not for playing with Mayda," Éomer said somewhat-sternly. "Only if your situation is perilous may you take down one of the shields." Mayda shrugged.

"It all depends on how you define peril uncle..." she began, but Éomer's laughter cut her off.

"I do not think that a snow assault constitutes as a perilous situation girl," the king chuckled, but then his face morphed into one of mockery. "Perhaps your return is beneficial in more ways than one, it would seem that you have become a little wet during your time away." Mayda's eyes went wide, but she managed to hide her outrage quite well. It made her uncle smile in adoration. "Well as I recall, last year when your friends played the same trick on you, you fought tooth and nail, dragging the entire village into a snowball battle, but today..."

"I am not wet," Mayda interrupted and she sounded more sincere than she looked. "I just...did not want to get ill..." Éomer smiled and ruffled the girl's hair.

"What has Faramir done to you?" he sighed. "I shall be happy when you return for good!" Mayda grinned despite her mood and nodded.

"I will be happy too uncle, for then I shall have a little brother or sister to teach all my tricks to and they shall be my servant!" she explained with a wild grin.

"Oh how wonderful, then there shall be two of you to disrupt my house and cause my subjects grief," her uncle sighed, but in his heart he was glad, and could not wait for the days that she spoke of so fondly. One thing was certain though; he was going to have his hands full.

X X X

"Come, you must attend the feast!" Mayda urged, giving her friends the most pathetic look she could muster. "I have asked permission from the King especially. If you do not come then he will be most displeased!"

"I think your uncle would probably be most relieved if we did not show," Arin countered with a small smirk.

"Fine then." For a moment the young girl looked uncomfortable. "I shall most upset if you do not come," she admitted quietly. " Besides, after your blatant act of betrayal this morning, you owe me." Her friends turned to each other with raised eyebrows, but eventually they nodded. "Wonderful! Meet me at the front gates in half an hour..."

"Wait Mayda," Mathain interrupted in a calculative tone. "You aren't going to try and get us back for what we did this morning are you?" Mayda, ever the swindler, shook her head earnestly.

"Would I do such a thing to my dearest friends?" she asked with feigned innocence.

"Yes," all three children replied, beginning to look slightly worried.

'So you should,' Mayda thought wickedly.

"Mayda promise me that you are not going to get us back at the feast," Laiken instructed firmly, but all she managed to get out of the mischievous princess was an elusive smile.

"She wouldn't dare," Mathain remarked with a rogue-like grin. "Not in front of her uncle and the entire court. She would be locked away and forbidden from enjoying the rest of the festivities and your reputation is at stake isn't in princess? You have to do something outrageous, or you may as well remain in Ithilien where everyone reads books for fun and only ventures outside to collect the barrels of wine they have sent for!" Mayda grinned at his idea of her uncle and aunt, but stayed her tongue; she couldn't fall for his ruse. " No we shall be afraid tonight," he added, his dark eyes locking onto Mayda's. "That is when she shall strike."

'How does he know me so well?' Mayda thought, her stomach turning into knots. Mathain had always had the uncanny ability to make Mayda feel giddy and yet so very small at the same time. It was similar to the way that Dior made her feel... 'Stupid boys!' the princess concluded before turning on heal and heading towards the door of Arin's house.

"Meet me in half an hour," she called back cheerfully before returning to the Golden Hall where the hall was being prepared for the great feast. Upon entering the decadent room Mayda came face to face with her uncle and a rider. She recognised his crest as belonging to the Eastern guard.

"There is news from the East," Éomer told her before she had the chance to greet either man. Her uncle's face showed no laughter, instead, he looked gravely serious.

"What news?" Mayda asked worriedly.

"Habalt has just informed me that two small riders escaped the Eastern Guard not two days ago. They were heading this way," Éomer began. "This news comes to me at the same time as news from our relations in Gondor." Mayda's jaw dropped slightly, she could already guess what her uncle was going to say.

"Dior and Huor?" she asked with a frown.

"Escaped the eve of your disappearance," her uncle replied, eliciting an exasperated sigh from the young girl.

"Stupid boys," she muttered. "How do they know where they are going? They know nothing of the North, they are going to get hurt!" Her worry for her friends was evident.

"I have sent out word to all my riders between here and Gondor. They will be found and brought here safely Mayda," Éomer assured her. "Now come, your aunt is spitting fire. She has been looking for you for nigh on and hour and with every minute that passes she is beginning to look more and more like a balrog!" Mayda giggled despite herself.

"Why is she looking more me?" she asked.

"I do believe she wishes to help you dress for the feast," Éomer replied, wrapping a protective hand about her shoulders as he led her away.

"Wonderful," Mayda sighed. "A dress."

X X X

Despite her irritation with her attire, the feast was promising to turn into a very memorable and jolly event. Mayda was happy for her friends, who sat by her regaling her with more tales of their adventures in her absence. There wasn't a single grave face in the hall as everyone was merry and many were singing, filling the grand hall with a mismatch of carols and drinking songs. It truly felt like Mettarë. This, however, is where it ceased feeling like Mettarë and took a definite turn for the worst.

The first indication that something was amiss was the sound of commotion outside the great doors. This was followed by the doors being flung open and two figures being ushered inside by a very amused looking Captain.

"My King," the Captain bellowed and in an instant Mayda recognized him. Her eyes flew to Éomer, who was looking both amazed and overjoyed at the same time.

"Amwing!" the King of the Mark finally returned, before jumping to his feet and embracing the weary Captain. "You have finally returned, how do I find you here?"

"I found something," Amwing replied in a scratchy voice. "Well I found two things actually, two things that certainly do not belong in the wild." With this he pushed his two charges forward and they dropped their hoods. Mayda felt a wave of relief wash over her, which was soon followed by a feeling of inexplicable anger. She felt almost betrayed, that they should follow her to her home, but as she and Dior made eye contact those feelings were forgotten. Feeling many eyes on her, Mayda rose to her feet and joined her uncle's side.

"Uncle, here before you stand Dior and Huor of Tolfalas, guests of Lord Faramir and Lady Eowyn of Ithilien," Mayda said formally, trying to avoid the gaze of her courageous rescuers.

"We thought you might be in danger," Huor burst out before Éomer was given the chance to speak.

"Well of course I was in no danger," Mayda laughed. "You put yourselves in danger, you know nothing of these lands and yet you think you can traverse them however you please."

"We were only thinking of you princess..." Dior began, but he was interrupted by Éomer's laughter.

"I welcome you both to the Mark, now come," the King laughed indicating his table. "Join us for a bite to eat young fellows, and you too my dear friend, for you must be hungry and in want of a warm drink!" With this chairs were brought forth for the new arrivals and Mayda found herself sat between the brothers. Gradually conversation was restored as Huor explained the details of their cunning escape, but unseen by Mayda was the look that passed between Dior and Mathain. A look filled with jealousy, dislike and rivalry.