Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. I am only playing with the fandom for the enjoyment of myself as well as others.

Author's note: Take care that a spew warning might apply and be cautious when handling food and liquids while reading this.

Chapter 50

Eldarion, prince of Gondor, could barely contain his excitement. Not only was it one of the most exciting times of the year, but this year he would spend it with his two best friends. Elboron had already been in Minas Tirith a fortnight, and Elfwine had just arrived with the royal family of Rohan.

It was a celebration throughout the land, but nowhere were it to be as grand as in the city of Minas Tirith. The streets were packed with market stalls and peddlers selling any number of things. There was food of so many sorts he had never seen before, and there were toys and sweets to be found at every corner. For a boy of six years of age it was a wondrous time indeed.

What made it even better was that for months now, he had performed various smaller tasks to earn himself a few copper coins here and there. His father, King of Gondor, known to his friends as Aragorn wanted him to know the value of the metal, and to this he had to admit he agreed. He had seen the spoiled children of some nobles and how they carried themselves, and he did not like it. They seemed to care naught for anyone else, they were rude and disrespectful and watching them made him cringe inwards.

Just the same, this time he had wanted to have money at his disposal to spend at the market stalls. He wanted to take Elboron and Elfwine with him and ensure they all had some of the sweets and the cheaper trinkets with which to partake of the festivities. Elfwine was only four summers, but a dear friend as the little blonde was very cheerful and engaging. Elboron, in an age between the two was wild enough to suit his Rohirric Uncle, and yet capable of great patience and care when needed.

As soon as the Rohirric prince had been lowered to the ground from his father's horse, the three boys had embraced cheerfully, and now Eldarion approached his father, his friends in tow. In his hand he had a few of his copper coins, they would not want to spend it all at once, but he wanted them to have a few packages of sweets.

"Ada," he would not interrupt, but as his father looked to him he saw he was allowed to speak. "May I take Elboron and Elfwine down to the lower levels now? I wish for us to get a few of the sweets, we won't be long."

Aragorn paused, and Eldarion felt his face fall. Though his friends did not understand it, he knew that look on his father's face well. It was the look that said that his wish would be denied, though his father was sorry for doing it.

"I am sorry, but you can not do so right this time," Aragorn stated softly. "I know you have waited for it, but you must wait a little longer. We have important matters to discuss, and I am afraid it can not wait."

"I know Ada, but you need not go with us," Eldarion started, hopefully.

"Today I would have to," Aragorn shook his head. "I can not spare a guard to do so. You know we wished for them to all be able to enjoy the festivities with their families, I only have as many men as are absolutely needed here, and I can not ask any of the others to give up their time for it. Tomorrow, I think we can manage it," he sighed softly.

"I," Eldarion paused, biting his lip. Neither Elboron nor Elfwine had voiced a word of complaint, but he knew they were as disappointed as he was. "I was fearful they would be gone by then. I was told the good sweets go very fast during these festivities…" He bit his lip, trying to sound like it did not matter that he was denied.

"Aye, I am aware," his father nodded. "But with so many strangers in the city, the danger is more present than normal. For the mere fact of the number of people if nothing else. Even if no one wished you any ill, three young children could easily be hurt, and that is a chance I can not take."

"If that is your only concern, why not let Firefoot take them?" Éomer King spoke up.

"Firefoot?" Aragorn eyed the grey stallion, still wearing saddle and tack. "Without a guard?"

"Aye," Éomer shrugged. "I dare say you have no man in this pile of stones more loyal to them than is he. And I should like to see the one braving his anger to do the boys any harm. He shall see them safe where they wish to go and here again."

"Firefoot is loyal, and a great warrior," Elfwine declared cheerfully.

"He likes the boys, he shan't mind, though he will make you think he is forced to endure torture," Éomer gave an amused snort as he regarded his horse.

"He shall most certainly see them safe," Aragorn agreed. "Aye, there are few I trust more than your horse, horse master. If Firefoot agrees to take you, you may go down for your sweets," he decided.

"Thank you Ada," Eldarion beamed. Turning around he faced the grey stallion. "May we?"

"You may indeed," Éomer answered for his horse, and grabbing Eldarion by the waist he lifted him into the saddle. "But the sweets are all you will get. While I know this beast should move heaven and earth to keep you safe, I will have to answer to your mothers for any mischief you get up to. So keep the disasters to the bare minimum, understood?" Taking his nephew in the same manner, he lifted him up behind Eldarion.

"Aye, my Lord," Eldarion nodded.

"Aye, Uncle," Elboron beamed.

"Mischief!" Elfwine gave a delighted cry as he was lifted up to sit in front of Eldarion so that the older boy could help to steady him.

"Aye, no more mischief than you would if I was with you," Éomer told him. "And none of you will for any reason dismount. Not for any reason, no matter what cause you think you might have, for there might very well be those that wanted you ill. Firefoot won't let anything happen to you though, but you will stay on him, at all times, understood?"

"Aye," Eldarion nodded seriously. "I thank you for your trust, Éomer King…" then he could not help the grin that broke out across his face.

"When you return here, you may dismount," the young king added teasingly. "I dare say someone can help you remove the saddle." Rubbing his stallion's forehead gently he spoke directly to the horse in his native tongue. The words so soft that Aragorn could not fully discern them, though he was certain it was instructions for the horse regarding the boys safety.

"We shall be most careful," Eldarion promised without prompt.

"I am certain you will," Éomer gave Firefoot a pat on the neck before handing him the reins. "Only keep in mind that Firefoot needs only the smallest signals to know what you want him to do. With three of you, there is a chance one says right and one says left, if he is unsure what you want, he shall wait for you to tell him."

"I will not tug his reins," Eldarion promised. "I would never do that."

"He will understand well enough if you only tell him," Èomer stated softly. "Though he much prefers if you speak to him in Rohirric, he understands even Westron if need be."

"Aye," Eldarion nodded seriously as he grasped the reins, firmly but not too tightly.

"Go on then," Éomer gave his horse a light clap on the rump and the huge stallion started moving. Eldarion bit his lip so as not to let out an immature squeal of delight, while Elboron behind him did just that.

"Shan't Firefoot be displeased with you for this?" Aragorn asked as the two stood behind and watched.

"Nay, he cares far too much for the boys," Éomer smiled softly. "Though he shall not let you think so. He shall enjoy having his revenge far too much to miss out only for that he does not need it."

"Knowing your horse, I believe it," Aragorn laughed. "Come, we do indeed have matters to see to, and the sooner we are done, the sooner we can join our families and enjoy the fun," clapping a hand on the younger man's shoulder he started inside.

Eldarion, tightly grasping the reins was very careful not to tug on them. The saddle was not built for three, but three small boys were able to squeeze in where a full grown warrior could comfortably sit. Elfwine had a firm grasp of the horse'1s mane, and Elboron held himself on the back of the saddle. Eldarion keeping his arms around Elfwine though he knew the smallest of them was probably the better rider.

"We need to get to the fifth level," he stated softly. "The best sweets are to be found there, and Firefoot knows them well, we shan't have to worry about going where we ought not."

"I have never ridden a war horse alone before," Elboron stated behind him in wonderment. "Mõder says they are too big for me."

"Aye, Fæder says so also," Elfwine agreed. "It is only Firefoot I am allowed to ride by myself, for Firefoot will let me. Mama frets," he added, his nose slightly wrinkled. "But Fæder will let me, Firefoot will not let me fall," leaning forward he patted the horse on the neck, and Firefoot responded with a soft snort.

"I do not think Ada would let me ride another horse alone like this," Eldarion agreed. "I do not even know if he would allow me to ride Brego so, though Brego will let me ride him with Ada."

"Brego and Firefoot are brothers, as are we," Elfwine beamed.

"We are cousins," Elboron declared with the superior tone of someone who was older and had more knowledge.

"We are brothers," Elfwine insisted. "One does not need to be born brothers to be brothers of arms. I know it is so."

"Ada calls Éomer King brother, and Lord Faramir," Eldarion agreed. "And I am glad to call you both so as well."

"Yes, me to," Elboron nodded.

Firefoot stopped as a cart passed in their way, and Eldarion looked around them to make certain there were no problems. Normally, he would not have thought about it, but there was a lot more people and noise than he was used to. Normally, the guards or his father would keep an eye out, and that he and his friends had been allowed to go down by their own still amazed him. Though he knew how much trust the Rohirrim put in their war horses.

To be granted to ride one was a sign of the uttermost trust the Rohir might have bestowed on them, and he was determined to be worthy of it. Especially as Firefoot did not move forward on his own accord as their path cleared. Instead he waited for Eldarion to gently nudge his side with his heels. He knew that all Éomer would have needed to do was press gently with his thighs, but as he himself was so small he did not think the horse would feel it through the saddle. Merely touching his heels to his side though allowed the horse to know he should move forward and Firefoot gently ambled along. He had to admit that he was a little uncomfortable with the attention they drew. It seemed to him that even those who had little to no understanding of horses, would know that Firefoot was not a common horse. Three boys riding such a magnificent steed drew attention, and should it be the wrong kind, then Firefoot would be the one they depended on to keep both himself, and them safe he knew.

It was with some relief he saw the stall they wanted, and knew that purchasing the sweets would be easy. Just one level above Elfwine had nearly fallen from the saddle as he tried to look at a vendor selling spinning tops. Eldarion had grasped his coat, and Firefoot had tossed his head, and there had been no mishap but Eldarion was still cautious. Now, as Firefoot stood in front of the kind man, and he knew he was recognized he dug in the pocket of his coat for a couple of his coppers.

"We would like to purchase three packages of boiled sweets, please," he stated softly. "I haven enough for that, do I not?"

"Certainly you do, young Prince," he smiled. "Three of my best ones it shall be, for you are most certainly one of my most esteemed customers."

"I should not need better for who I am," he bit his lip. "We only wished for some sweets to enjoy during the festivities."

"Then we say three of my best ones, for the fact that you are one of my most polite and considerate customers," the old man smiled. "And for that I remember your father, young Prince Elboron, and how he came to me much the same way. Not to mention this magnificent creature, whom has come to me all on his own before," he nodded to the horse, knowing better than to reach and pat the stallion. "Will you want a lump or two for him as well?"

"Aye, I think so," he decided. The King always said they should not spoil his horse, and yet he always gave him the treats himself. Also, as the horse suffered them to ride him, when the war horses of Rohan did not do so lightly, he felt it might be for the best. "But I think we had best take it to give him ourselves. He will not take it here."

"Nay, I did not think he would," the proprietor accepted the small coins from the Prince of Gondor, and handed over three packages wrapped in parchment. Grasping a bowl from his counter where the brightly coloured sweets lay loose. "One each for to see you back up to the palace, young sirs, and two for your horse to enjoy once you are there."

"Our thanks," barely able to contain his pleasure Elfwine beamed brightly as he grasped one of the sweets from the bowl.

"We are most grateful," Eldarion declared as he took one for himself, and two for the horse.

"Aye, we are indeed," Elboron tried to sound formal and grown, but his wide smile betrayed his youth. Slipping the candy into his mouth he was smiling ear to ear, and Eldarion knew he was probably doing so himself.

"Ah, but so am I," the proprietor smiled. "For the story of this mighty stallion coming here shall draw more customers with him. But do not fear young sirs, if you are able to return before the festivities are over, I will be certain to still have some left for you."

Eldarion bit his lip, "I do not know if we shall be able to, but I thank you for your consideration, and we bid you a most pleasant day."

"Thank you," Elfwine piped up as Eldarion tried to nudge just one foot very gently against Firefoot's side. The stallion gave a shudder and a half hop as he stepped to the side and swung around. Blushing Eldarion tried to relax his seat and do his best to not give the horse any signals he did not mean as they started on their way up the citadel.

Éomer king had told them not to get up to too much mischief as they did so, and he felt they had not. Their main offence that Firefoot had snatched a mouthful of flowers as they walked past a small pottery shop. He was munching happily as they made it up towards the royal stable.

"I am not certain where we shall dismount," looking down Eldarion suddenly realised how high up they were.

"Haystack?" Elboron suggested from behind him.

"I can stay, I can brush his back from here," Elfwine shrugged. "Hay is fun."

"It is, but I think it is better if we do not," Eldarion decided. "Éomer King placed a great trust in us, we should do our best to act accordingly."

"Aye," Elboron decided. "Though Éomer King is Uncle Éomer, and he will 'throw' us into the haystack…" he put emphasis on the word. "And he would not want us to get hurt because it is too far down."

"If I may be of assistance," the stablemaster came out into the yard. "I shall be glad to help you down, young sirs."

"Thank you," Eldarion gladly accepted the help. Waiting until Elboron had been sat down on the ground.

"I stay," Elfwine protested when the stablemaster reached for him. "I will brush his back."

"Aye, then you may stay," the man nodded. "Will you take him to his stall, or shall I lead him?" While the horses of Rohan did not let anyone take them, he was well acquainted with the animal out of necessity. As the King was not always able to tend to his horse every day when he was in the city, he had taken care that he would let his horse know to trust the stable master. Not anyone was allowed to do so though, the ones Firefoot did not care for quickly found out how sharp his teeth were.

"We can lead him in," Eldarion decided. "But we will appreciate it if you can take the saddle, for we are too small for that."

"Aye, and Èomer King Uncle told us we should ask for help," Elboron decided. He found the choice of title for his uncle sometimes to be confusing, but he was not to be deterred by the fact.

"I will be glad to do so," allowing the prince to take the reins, and lead the surprisingly docile war horse into the stable he followed, removing the saddle but leaving the young prince of Rohan on his back. "Do not seek to get down from there on your own once you are through," he asked. "The war horses of Rohan may be used to it, but our horses are not. If one of them startled, even with Firefoot you could be hurt."

"I will not," Elfwine promised. "May I have a brush?"

"Aye, you may," taking away the saddle and tack the man fetched the brushes for them, smiling as he watched them care for the horse. While they were not fully able to reach, they worked with much care and devoting. Dust adhering to their clothes as they brushed their grey coat.

"I am hungry," Elfwine finally rubbed his stomach. "Are you happy?" he patted the horse, directing the question to the stallion who turned his head to look at him. The stallion bobbed his head, and Elfwine seemed satisfied with the answer.

"I am hungry to," Elboron decided. "I shall ask the stable master to help you down."

"I think we may have food, I think it is a little early, but I do not think Ada will mind," Eldarion decided. The packages with the sweets were still in his pocket, and they had already fed Firefoot the two he had been given, the horse crunching them with his powerful teeth and a pleased look on his face.

The stable master came to lift Elfwine down, and giving the war horse a last pat on the nose the prince started out of the stable with his friends.

Inside the palace Eldarion asked a servant, his mother was with Princes Éowyn and Queen Lothíriel, while his father was in his study with Prince Faramir and Éomer King. Looking at his dusty britches and the small pieces of hay on their clothes he quickly came to a decision. "I think we had better go ask Ada, Mother may make us wash before we may eat."

"Mõder would," Elboron made a face. "Uncle says it is because she is seeking to be more Gondorian, I do not like it."

"Mother would to," Elfwine decided. "Not Fæder."

"Come, if we knock and wait until we are bidden to speak, I do not think we will have to wash," Eldarion decided. Leading the way to his father's study he knocked on the door. Waiting until he heard the bid to enter before he pushed the heavy door open.

Elfwine however did not wait for permission to speak, he trotted over to his father. "Iċ hungriġ," he declared. Rubbing his stomach as it growled, leaving no doubt in Eldarion's mind that he had understood him right, though he had fallen into speaking Rohirric as he stated his hunger.

"Hungry enough to eat a horse?" Èomer teased his son. "Or have you already done so?"

"Nã," Elfwine shook his head, a confused and befuddled expression on his face as he denied the suggestion.

"Am I then to surmise, that you have already sampled your sweets?" Aragorn asked and Eldarion paused.

"We have not had any of the ones we bought, but we were given one each to eat on the way back. He does always do that, so I saw no reason not to accept." Eldarion said carefully, trying to figure out if he might have acted wrongly.

"He gave us two for Firefoot as well," Elboron declared. "So we gave them to him, for he was so nice and let us ride him down to get them."

"And then you took great pains to brush him well, that was very good of you," Éomer stated.

"How do you know we brushed him well, Uncle?" Elboron frowned. "We did do so, we wanted to take good care of him. For he was very good to us."

"We can tell, as you were eating your sweets as you did the brushing," Faramir teased his son. "You have either done so, or, found a way to grow a full beard and moustache at a very young age, and in a very short time."

"Oh," Eldarion touched his mouth and found indeed a lot of horse hair sticking there.

"It works just as well with honey cakes," Éomer laughed. "Tis the first beard a young Rohir ever sports. Though you might wish to remove it afore you eat."

"We are hungry," Elfwine, taking care to speak in Westron still tugged on his father's sleeve. "We came here to not wash."

"Ah, you felt your mother would insist you washed and changed clothes before you ate?" Faramir directed the question to his son who nodded.

"We do not mind washing, much," Eldarion decided. "Though we are very hungry," he paused, thinking. "And Elfwine is very small," he added with a sly smile. "We felt it would not be good for him to have to wait so long."

"Go find some water and wash the worst of your faces," Éomer told them. "Take it from one who knows, you shall not enjoy eating more horse hair than food."

"While you do so, we shall see about having something brought here from the kitchens," Faramir added. "It shall take a few minutes for that at any account. You might as well spend that time to ensure you eat food and not dust and horse hair."

"I suppose," Eldarion decided. "May we come back here then?" he enjoyed being in the study. It was a warm room with comfortable chairs and a nice window. Rugs on the floor by the hearth where he was often allowed to play.

"Aye, you may," his father assured them. "Go on, the sooner you have washed, the sooner you can come and eat."

"And you need not fret," Éomer added. "The topmost layer shall do, for no doubt your mother shall insist on you washing again. You may as well have a bit more to remove then, or she shan't be satisfied afore she finds some."

"We shall," Eldarion nodded. "Come, there is water in my chambers," taking his friends by the hand he led them away. Aragorn, going to the door, sent a servant for some simple fare for them. Bread, ham and milk would tide them over til the real meal. Asking also for some honeycakes, more of those as he knew his Steward well by now.

The three boys soon came tumbling back into the room and Aragorn stood to serve them of the food. Cutting thick slices of the bread with honey smoked ham on them. Pouring the mugs only half full of milk so they would not spill quite so easily. There was a small table, but rather than giving them the food there he sat the mugs down on the floor by the window where he knew they would prefer to be. "Honeycakes after the bread," he told them. They had indeed removed the top layer of sticky horse hair, a few strands remaining on their cheeks, and his own son sported a small clump on his forehead. Elfwine soon had a milk moustache going up his nose. While Elboron, very much his father's son, could not stop eyeing the honeycakes as he ate bread and ham, biting his own fingers as he forgot to look at what he was doing.

As there was more than enough of the food, and he knew his Rohir friend only rarely turned down a meal, Aragorn passed the bread and ham to his friends. It would do them no harm to indulge he decided. Though he poured them wine rather than of the milk. Smiling softly to himself as he regarded the boys, talking quietly and excitedly amongst themselves as they indulged in their treat. Their smiles growing wider as Éomer got up to not only refill their mugs of milk, but passing them their fair share of the honey cakes as well.

They would take the boys down later, Aragorn knew. To enjoy the festivities to their fullness and not only buy them a few more sweets then, but also a few small trinkets or toys. It would be good to do so in the company of friends. Something he had very much looked forward to. Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth was to arrive the next day, and he would be more than eager to spoil all three boys he knew.

He had not been surprised that Firefoot would let the boys ride him, no more than he had when later after having visited the stables he noticed the King of Rohan walking with a slight limp. The horses of Rohan were trained to protect their masters. By training and loyalty alone, Firefoot would have protected the heir with his life. By love and duty to his master, this also meant Elboron, as the boy was his sister son. It was with awe, and unspeakable gratitude Aragorn had realised it also included Eldarion.

By the love the stallion had for the boys, he would let them ride him, though that was not a right they might assume as they wished. That was to be granted as horse and master saw fit.

By the love of his master, Firefoot would however not let it pass without demanding retribution, and so it would always be between the two.

As much as they both knew the stallion enjoyed indulging the boys, he enjoyed challenging his master more.

A Temporary End... Please review, the Cricket is hungry...

Additional Author's note: Some of these stories might not fit into the Tolkien timeline, I apologise for this, I have not yet been able to procure an English copy, and therefor there has been things I was unaware of while writing. Some I've changed, some I've left as I liked them.
Most of the Rohirric I use, is, as I believe Tolkien himself used, Old English. Though some is modern Swedish, as, frighteningly enough, these are quite often the same. In order to give the story a more pleasant flow for the reader, I have opted not to use a glossary at the end, rather, I try to make the meaning very clear in the story.