A/N: Thanks to anyone who's still reading and reviewing! Sorry this update has taken so long. I can offer no excuses, save for exams all week and the internet playing up every other day. C'est la vie! Also, I forgot to mention that sharp Brits among you may have recognised a little reference to a certain car advert on tv a few chapters back. (Clue: try chapter 4 and the 'French cars, British designers' ad.) Sorry, I couldn't resist.
I hope you enjoy the mushiness that will follow, and I hope even more that you'll take the time to leave me a review after reading!
Chapter 7: A Sunny Afternoon
"And just who are you, young man, to wander through Lothlorien without permission? Hold your tongue, impudent boy! Just because I cannot see you past my overly large nose does not mean that I cannot be as snooty and annoying as ever."
"Keep your voice down!"
"Don't you talk to me like that, you cheeky little girl, or I shall be forced to condemn you to a slow and painful death!"
Mithra couldn't get any more words out and collapsed into another fit of laughter. Theodred's imitations of Nelendor were too much for her.
"That was so lifelike!" she managed at length. "He'd be furious if he heard you!"
Theodred pretended not to hear. "And as for that Celeborn…"
"Theodred!" Mithra cried amidst peals of laughter, "Shut up! If they hear you…"
"And what should I care of they do hear me? A bunch of ancient old men in dresses don't scare me."
"They're not old men, and they're not dresses."
"Then what are they? Robes?" He smirked. "Robes my-"
"Theodred!"
"Where I come from, it's called a dress, and women wear it."
Mithra settled down on the springy green turf at the foot of a mallorn tree and grinned up at the Rohirric prince before her He had been in Lorien for three days now, though it was difficult to keep track of the time. "What does scare you, then," she asked, "If not ancients in dresses?"
"Very few things."
"Such as?"
Theodred avoided her eyes. His joking, cheerful demeanour had swiftly evaporated. "Impenetrable darkness, being truly alone, and death. Not my death, but that of loved ones, of family members."
Mithra bit her lip, half wishing she hadn't asked. Her question had touched on tender memories, she could tell, memories he would clearly rather have not been reminded of.
"Then you now have no reason to fear!" she said as cheerfully as she could manage, "As we're in populated woods on a sunny afternoon, woods that death has rarely touched the heart of." She smiled encouragingly.
"What about you?" Theodred asked. "What do you fear?"
Mithra paused a moment in thought; she had not the slightest idea. "I… I'm not sure," she mumbled, feeling foolish and awkward.
"Come on, there must be something."
"Change," she said at last.
Theodred looked at her in interest. "How do you mean?"
"I live my life according to a pattern. When that pattern is broken, everything seems to go wrong."
"Fair enough." Theodred didn't say anything more. Mithra's question had ruined his cheer, a fact that she was all too aware of. However, she decided to take advantage of the situation and ask a question she'd been too nervous to ask before.
"Why did you leave Rohan?"
He groaned. "Mithra, you know I-"
"Please," she begged. "It can't do any harm, surely."
A long pause followed, Mithra's curiosity combined with Theodred's reluctance creating an uncomfortable edge to the already awkward silence.
"If you insist." Theodred too was sitting down by now, and leant back against the smooth bark of another tree. "Throughout my youth," he began, "My father was ever a strong and confident leader of our people. He fought wars bravely with the militaristic mind of an experienced soldier and made peace with our neighbours displaying the most wisdom and logic seen in many kings. But it was not to last. Since our once-ally Saruman betrayed us to become Sauron's slave, his orcs and uraks have attacked our land with frenzy. They spare no one: no child or parent, nor home or stable survives their onslaught. My home city of Edoras became a haven for refugees of the Riddermark. My father's mind grew dark and poisoned, bewitched as he was by the sly whisperings of a wily adviser, Wormtongue. He visually aged thirty years in a matter of weeks, losing his memory and ability to think for himself. He relied completely on Wormtongue, who insisted Saruman was our ally. My cousins, Éomer and Éowyn and I could do nothing. I was driven out of mind by such a life. What glory is there in battles that claim the lives of so many men and horses that every other house in Edoras is empty or mourning?"
He paused and glanced up at Mithra. "So I left, from a battlefield. My men and I were ambushed, and I the only one left alive. I played dead and got away."
"And now your people think you are dead."
He winced. "I know. I did not intend to cause them pain."
"How could you avoid such an act when leaving them secretly, giving no words of farewell or reassurance?"
Theodred said nothing, but Mithra continued.
"You were their prince, an important figure of both society and the military. Your cousins will now have had mourning and funeral arrangements to deal with, on top of everything else."
Still, he remained silent.
"How you can justify what you did is beyond me," Mithra said.
"I can't justify it," Theodred muttered. "I was rash and selfish, thinking only of my own happiness. I've just refused to come to terms with the fact until now." He laughed bitterly and shook his head. "I've been so stubborn. So stubborn and stupid."
"We heard of your burial," Mithra told him. "How come people witnessed your body being laid to rest when you are still alive here with me?"
He smiled secretively. "I have risen from the grave," he told her.
She raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Oh really?"
"No." He sighed deeply. "I don't know who my family buried, but it wasn't me, clearly."
Mithra paused to consider all she had just heard. To her, it seemed unlikely that a man like Theodred would be forced into such a cowardly act as running away. She glanced up at him to find him looking back at her.
"You don't believe me, do you?" he asked, seeing her expression of doubt.
She didn't answer. His eyes caught hers and held them, and she saw such sorrow and sincerity in them that she could no longer doubt him. She simply smiled, sweetly and reassuringly, before attempting to tear her gaze away from his. Her eyes flashed back to him, however, as he got to his feet slowly and walked towards her, kneeling down on the grass beside her. He was smiling warmly, though his twinkling dark eyes gave away his intentions.
Mithra opened her mouth to speak, but he laid a finger on her lips and shushed her.
"Do not say anything more," he whispered, leaning closer.
Then he kissed her.
Mithra's first emotion was shock. She'd never been kissed before and had little idea what she should do. Her surprise quickly faded away, however, as she felt Theodred's strong arms encircling her, pulling her closer to him, and joy flooded through her. Her thoughts briefly touched on the fact that she was kissing a human man, probably not the best idea, before her mind went haywire and she could concentrate on nothing but Theodred, so caught up in the moment. But finally, after what seemed like a wonderful eternity had passed by, he pulled away, grinning at her.
"You… you…" Mithra couldn't get any words out. "You kissed me," she managed breathlessly at last.
"Indeed I did." His usual enchanting smile was back.
"But whatever for?"
"I thought I'd made my instant love for you clear from the moment I first laid my lucky eyes on you."
"I suppose you did." She giggled as he pulled her to her feet.
"You know," he began. "You've changed my mind about Lothlorien. These woods really are beautiful." He smiled at her, before adding, "And romantic."
"More so than Rohan?"
"More so than Rohan." He groaned as soon as he had spoken. "I can't believe I just said that," he muttered. "You've bewitched me, I've lost my mind, I swear!"
She grinned, but he continued.
"When I arrived here, I barely had time to pause for breath before you came waltzing up on to that platform-thingamajig, took a fancy to me and cast your spell on me, bringing my mind under your cruel control."
"I do not waltz, but you're not so bad looking yourself, actually."
"I know, I caught you looking when I had my shirt off at that healer's."
She smiled shyly, but didn't get chance to speak before the sounds of a nearby elven song reached their ears. Mithra was prepared to ignore it, an art she was well practised in, but Theodred groaned in frustration.
"If I hear one more bloody Elf singing, I swear I'm going to rip their throat out with my bare hands!"
"Come on," Mithra said, taking his hand and leading him into the trees, "Let's find somewhere a little more quiet then."
Theodred grinned. "Lead on then, lady," he laughed. "I'm quite at my leisure."
A/N: Thanks, now kindly leave me a review!
the green lama