Lord of the Rings 1. A New Story

The Story of Éllawyn, Daughter of Érod  
  
By Kalythianna  
Beta's: Kalithja & TigerLily (You guys rock!)  
  
Morwyn pushed through the crowded streets of Edoras, the hair that had escaped her braids flew around her face as she ran. "Morwyn, wait up!" her brother, Morien called as he pumped his chubby little legs as fast as they would go.  
  
Morwyn slowed her pace a little, letting him catch up. "Hurry up, or we'll be late," she said impatiently.  
  
Together they trotted through the city. They eventually reached the outskirts of town, where to Morwyn's relief they came in sight of an older looking run down house. The fence that surrounded it looked like it hadn't been mended in years; the stone pathway needed some work and the house looked well lived in. One would have thought it abandoned if not for the clothing hanging on a rope that had been strung across the yard and gardens well cared for.  
  
Morwyn opened the crude gate and walked in, her brother not far behind. The door to the house was open, and the excited sounds of children came from inside. Walking through the door was like walking into another world, at least that's how it seemed to the children that often visited. All kinds of herbs and plants hung from the rafters. The smell of smoke, drying herbs, and whatever was cooking for the evening meal, hung in the air. The old but sturdy, intricately carved furniture could be found around that one room. An old rocking chair placed in the corner was the centre of attention though; on it sat the reason for their coming. She was old, with grey, no, white hair, tucked into a somewhat messy bun, her skin was wrinkly and when she moved her tired body, it was stiffly, the signs of old age showing plainly. But it was her eyes that made you look twice. They were alive with memories, the good and the bad. She looked up as Morwyn walked into the room.  
  
"Ah, come, take a seat," she said with a motherly smile. Morwyn and Morien eagerly obeyed. In all, there were about six children seated around her rocking chair. Some of them were as old as twelve, Morien the youngest was only six, and the rest were somewhere in between.  
  
"So, today we start a new story?" The lady asked, knowing the answer. Heads nodded enthusiastically all around. They had just finished the story of Helm the Hammerhand, and the building of Helms Deep.  
  
One of the older girls spoke up from the back. "Tell us the story about Lady Éowyn and Lord Faramir." She asked in a sweet, pleading tone. The boys in the room groaned in unison, another love story.  
  
The lady cocked her head to one side as if thinking it over, before slowing shaking her head. "I think I know one you have not heard before." She replied in a slow, soft tone.  
  
The older children perked up, they had heard most of her stories, and even though they were still as good the second time, new stories were always welcome.  
  
"Yes I do believe I know a good one. Have you ever heard of the story of Éllawyn, daughter of Érod?" The children shook there heads, curiosity showing plainly in their eyes. "Well then, let me see. Ah yes, I remember how it starts..."   
  
Early Spring 2989 Third Age   
  
"Eléon, give her back." Éllawyn shouted in exasperation as she ran after her brother through the stables. She heard him laugh as he ran around another corner and then gasp. As she stumbled around the corner, she found Eléon and their older brother Ellédor.  
  
Ellédor was holding her old doll that Eléon had taken and was giving him a stern look. Ellédor was dressed for riding and was in full Rohirrim armour. At sixteen, he was almost ready to take his place as a Rider of the Mark. Eléon was only fourteen and not as diligent a learner as Ellédor, and had at least three more years of training before he would be even close to ready. Ellédor handed the doll to Éllawyn with a courtly bow.  
  
"Milady, I believe this belongs to you," he said charmingly. Éllawyn giggled. "And you Eléon" Ellédor said sternly as he gripped his brother's shoulder "you will march right up to father this instant. Aren't you old enough to know better then to harass our little sister?" Éllawyn smiled smugly as Ellédor marched Eléon off to their father. The brothers were total opposites, both in looks and temperament. Ellédor had their father's golden hair and blue eyes, while Eléon had their mother's dark hair, something you didn't see often in Rohan. Ellédor was serious and noble, while Eléon loved nothing more then to be a pain and get in trouble, at least that's how it seemed to Éllawyn.  
  
She looked down at the doll cradled in her arms; the white lacy gown was smudged with dirt and the two braids that hung down the side of her face were falling out. Éllawyn gave a sigh and sat down on a bale of hay. Her aunt had sent her the doll for her birthday when she was six; it had been Éllawyn's mother's, then her aunt's and now it was hers. What made it even more precious was the fact that her aunt had died last summer. She solemnly plaited the doll's raven locks as she thought about the aunt that she had never had a chance to know, except in stories. Éllawyn brushed as much of the dirt off the dress as she could and kissed the doll's forehead tenderly. She wandered back to her room and opened up the trunk at the end of her bed, placing the doll gently inside before closing the lid with a sad smile.   
  
Éllawyn pulled the plain brown material over her pale under tunic and tied up the sides. It was one of her favourite outfits for around the house. The under tunic was like a plain dress, shaped to her body with long sleeves, the top layer was rough and had no sleeves, the sides laced together loosely, letting the under tunic show through. Éllawyn loved the simplicity of the dress. She ran a brush through her pale hair, and pulled it back into a simple braid. As she was leaving her room she glanced out the window, the sun had just dipped behind the mountains and the valley was now covered in shadows. Éllawyn smiled faintly as she left, a small spring in her step.  
  
As she approached the banquet hall she heard laughter and talking. She was almost late she realized as she pulled back the heavily embroidered mantle that covered one of the many doorways to keep out the wind. Candle light lit up her face as she walked in. Servants, soldiers, and guests surrounded her. Tables were set around the room, mostly filled by now. Unlike most of Rohan's great fortresses in Eohám, the servants, nobility and their guests ate together in the great hall. Éllawyn made her way to the head table where there was only one empty seat, hers. As always, she curtsied to her father and mother before taking her seat in between her brothers. Her father stood, and silence washed over the room.  
  
"May Wyrd, Foldewyn and Bema guide and lead us." He voice rang out clear and the room. As he sat, the noise returned to its normal level while the food was passed around.  
  
Her mother sat regally as she always did, her dark raven hair falling below her shoulders as was customary for the majority of the women. Her smooth, lightly tanned face turned towards her husband as she listened to something he said, her response was only to laugh. It was a soft tinkling laugh, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement. Her mother was not of Rohan, she had come from Gondor. Ivriniel was the oldest daughter of Adrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth.  
  
Éllawyn sighed to herself; her mother was so beautiful. Why couldn't she have her mother's dark hair and brown, almost black, eyes? Her hair was the colour of her fathers, a dirty blond, though while his was wavy; hers was utterly lifeless, more of a pain then a blessing. It hardly ever stayed in a braid and was forever falling in her face. Her eyes she got from her mother, though they were not the colour of coal, but light, and grey 'like the mist rising off the sea water on a stormy day' as her mother often said. Éllawyn wondered what it would have been like to live by the sea, and she wondered how her mother could have ever left it and her family. She would never be able to leave the plains and mountains of Rohan, not for all the gold in middle earth would she do that. But as she looked at her parents talking and laughing she realized how much they loved each other, and how that must have weighed into her mother decision to leave the only life she had ever known.   
  
In the evening Éllawyn sat on a stool by the fire, a needlework sampler on her lap. Ivriniel sat close to the fire like Éllawyn as she stitched embroidery on a cloak. Érod sat at his desk, going over paperwork by the light of a candle. Ellédor sharpened his sword and daggers with a whetstone while Eléon fletched arrows, one of the only things he was good at. It was the same routine every night. Everyone worked on their own little chore. Sometimes they worked in silence, sometimes Eléon or Ellédor would play traditional Rohirrim music on a little wooden flute and sometimes Ivriniel would tell stories from her childhood. They all heard about the sea. How it rolled gently on calm days and how it crashed against the rocks when it stormed. About the cries of the gulls, the smell of salt in the air, and of her younger siblings, Finduilas and Imrahil.  
  
It was at night that Ivriniel would teach Éllawyn the arts of a woman. Sewing, needlework, spinning, knitting all became her nightly (and sometimes daily) activities. Éllawyn loved those nights best of all, sitting with her family and learning of her mother's life before she had come to Rohan.  
  
"Momma, how did you meet Da?" Éllawyn asked one night. Both her parents looked up with amused smiles on their faces. Ellédor and Eléon stopped working, this was something neither had heard before.  
  
"Well" started her father in his rough voice she loved so much. "I met your mother in Edoras" he paused for a moment before saying "at the horse market."  
  
"The horse market?" Ellédor asked, with a slightly bewildered look on his face. His siblings had a very similar look on theirs as well. They were all old enough to know you did not look for wives at the horse market.  
  
"Yes," Ivriniel said with an amused smile on her face, "we met at the horse market. I had come to buy a nice mare for myself with some of father's knights, and was there looking around. Your father was their selling some young stock with his father, and one of their mares happened to catch my eye. And that's how we met."  
  
Eléon still looked puzzled "You came all the way from Dol Amroth to buy one mare?" Ivriniel laughed as her husband chuckled as if they both knew some inside joke their children did not.  
  
"No, some of the knights were buying horses that year, and since the noblewomen had started riding more, I wanted a Rohirrim mare. So I went along."  
  
"I thought you came because one of your friends didn't think you could handle a Rohirrim horse." Érod asked with an innocent expression on his face.  
  
Ivriniel held her chin high and said loftily "I don't remember telling you any such thing."  
  
Érod grinned wickedly and continued "and if I remember correctly, you couldn't ride the mare you bought and one of the Rohirrim noble ladies had to teach you." All three siblings looked at each other in amazement; their mother was one of the best horsewomen in the area. The thought that when she first came to Rohan she wasn't that good, was a new idea to them. Ivriniel's eyes snapped in mock fury as she glared at her husband, her poor riding had always been a sore spot with her.  
  
She quickly changed the subject, "Ellédor, how are your sister's riding lessons coming along?"  
  
"Very well, Éllawyn is getting a stronger seat everyday and she's almost ready to start riding one of the horses." Éllawyn perked up at that news. Soon she would be able to ride a real horse!  
  
Érod smiled at his only daughter "that's excellent news Éllawyn, as soon as Ellédor says you're ready, you may start training your own mare." Ivriniel shot Érod a concerned look.  
  
"Érod, maybe she should start on one of the ladies mounts before she trains her own. She's only ten."  
  
"And that's plenty old enough to start training a horse, my dear. I'd be ashamed if we held her back longer, you know how much my family has prided themselves on not only breeding the best horses, but also on how well we ride and train. Uncle was just asking me the other day when Éllawyn would start her mare. And she doesn't have to pick a feisty one like Eléon did; there are quite a few nice mares she could start quite easily."  
  
"But Érod..." He didn't give her time to finish.  
  
"I've made up my mind, and" he grinned meaningfully "you know how fruitless it is to try and get me to change it."  
  
"It doesn't mean I won't try," she retorted back.  
  
"That's why I married you darling, that's why I married you." Érod grinned as Ivriniel pointedly ignored him and concentrated on the cloak lying on her lap, trying to hide a small smile.   
  
Éllawyn woke with the dawn, Folwyn who was starting a fire in the hearth. Folwyn was one of the village girls who helped at 'the house' as the local villagers called it. She was probably around fifteen and the oldest of five children. Her younger brother, Finwine, worked in the stables. Their father had died in an orc attack a few years earlier and the two oldest had had to start working to help keep the family alive. Not that they minded much, Folwyn lived in 'the house', away from the bustle of her home, was able to visit them often. And Finwine enjoyed working with the horses and had a way with them that Éllawyn's father called 'just plain old horse sense'. Folwyn brushed the dirt off her skirt as she stood, catching sight of Éllawyn awake, she motioned towards the curtained off area in the room as she spoke.  
  
"I can bring up some water for your bath if you're ready". The past few years Folwyn had been a sort of older sister to Éllawyn and they had long ago stopped using the formalities when alone.  
  
"When you have the time Folwyn, no need to hurry" Éllawyn said sleepily as she reached for a book and snuggled back into the warmth of the covers. It was one of her mother's, a book of children's fairy tales. Éllawyn had read it many times, but never tired of the stories. Ivriniel loved reading, and when she was not busy with her daily household work, she could always be found curled up in her favourite chair reading one of her beloved books. She had made sure Éllawyn had had a 'a proper education' as she said. From an early age, Éllawyn had learned to read, write and speak both Westron and Rohirric quite well, as did her brothers. However, while they had despised learning, Éllawyn had not minded the long hours spent on it. Moreover, she even now kept up her reading in both languages; well her brothers had traded their books for weapons. Her mother said all 'men' were the same, always wanting to learn to fight and show off to each other who were the better soldiers. By this time Éllawyn was so absorbed in her book she barely noticed Folwyn trudge back and forth as the water in the tub rose higher and higher.  
  
"Éllawyn, your bath is ready," Folwyn said as she left the room.  
  
"Thank you Folwyn," Éllawyn called with a smile as she slipped out of bed onto the cold floor. She shivered as she made her way to the corner of the room. Behind the curtain stood a tub filled with steaming water. Éllawyn quickly pulled her nightgown over her head, as she hopped from one foot to the other, the cold from the floor biting at her feet. She quickly slipped into the hot water and sighed as the warmth soaked into her. A hot bath on a cold morning always seemed better then a bath at any other time.   
  
Eleon pulled Éllawyn along the hallway, stopping every so often as they crept along.  
  
"Eleon, are you sure we should be doing this?" Éllawyn asked tentatively. Eleon gave her his older brother 'trust me' look. Éllawyn sighed, she was sure they were going to get in trouble.  
  
"Eleon, I..."  
  
Before she could finish he hissed "shhh" in her ear as he pulled her into an alcove behind. A maid could soon be heard walking towards them along the hall. They crouched down lower into the shadows. Éllawyn couldn't believe her brother had been able to hear her coming. No wonder he got away with so much, he was near impossible to catch. Soon they continued. They soon were creeping along through the lower cellars, making there way towards the kitchen. Éllawyn persisted in getting her brother to give up his foolish game.  
  
"Eleon, I really don't think we should be doing this..." He made a face at her and rolled his eyes.  
  
"Stop being such a cry-baby Éllawyn. We're nearly there, now hush." And they were there. Eleon snuck a quick look to see if the coast was clear; both of the cooks had their backs turned to the door. Eleon grabbed her hand and pulled her the few steps to one of the tables, the table that had all the baked goods for supper on it. Before Éllawyn knew it, they were both under the table, hidden by the tablecloth that hung all the way to the ground. Eleon started slowly crawling towards the end of the table, with Éllawyn following reluctantly behind. Both were careful to make the least amount of noise they could.   
  
Frëyä had worked in the 'the house' since she was a young girl helping her mother who was the head cook. Now she had taken on that role. She cocked her head at a small sound, she stirred the soup that was intended for supper as she glanced over her shoulder, nothing was out of its place, or so it seemed at first glance. Upon further inspection, she noted that the tablecloth was swaying ever so softly. Frëyä smiled slightly, Eleon was up to his tricks again. And she knew just where he was headed. At the farthest end of the table some of his favourite sweet cookies were cooling. She grinned as she grabbed a clean wooden spoon and crept softly towards the table.   
  
Éllawyn crawled slowly behind Eléon as they made their way towards where 'his cookies' were. How she wished she hadn't let him talk her into this in the first place. Eléon always knew how to get her to do what he wanted. One of these days, I'll learn how to do the same thing back She thought One of these days... Éllawyn watched as Eléon slowly peeked out from under the tablecloth, it seemed all was clear as he reached up and grabbed a handful of cookies. He passed them back to Éllawyn who carefully placed them in her pockets. He peeked out again and reached up, but just as his hand settled on a handful of cookies there was a resounding thwap as Frëyä's spoon connected with Eléon's knuckles. He yowled in pain as he rolled out from under the table and lurched to his feet. Frëyä's spoon buffeted him once again as he tried to make a grab for the cookies as he tried to run past her. He reached under the table, pulled a wide-eyed Éllawyn out, and dragged her across the room and out the door the led to the cellars.   
  
Frëyä shook her head as she went back to stirring the soup. It's about time that boy grew up, he's old enough to know better and to involve his sister too. She smiled lovingly as she thought how boring working in the kitchens would be without his antics.   
  
"Hold on with your knees and thighs. That's it, much better, now, let his momentum lift you." Ellédor called encouragement from the center of the ring as Éllawyn trotted her pony around. She had always loved the horses her family raised. Her father's family had been breeding the best horses in Rohan for decades and it was in her blood. She was quite a good rider, but only if she had a saddle. Today Ellédor wanted her to ride bareback, and not only that, but he wanted her to canter in a figure eight and go over two jumps. Something a lot easier said then done. Éllawyn gripped harder with her knees, and held the reins a little tighter, keeping Snowflame at a slow rocking canter. As they went around one of the corner's for the umpteenth time she felt herself slip slightly and instinctively tightened her legs and heels to keep from falling off. Snowflame jumped forwards and Éllawyn grabbed a handful of mane to keep from falling off and pulled back on the reins while pulling her heels away from his sides. He slowed to a walk.  
  
"You mustn't use your heels; they must stay completely still, unless you are driving him forward. Pick up a canter again and we'll try it one more time." Éllawyn sighed as she barely touched Snowflame's sides. He moved smoothly into a canter. Her legs ached, her back ached... every muscles in her body ached, but if she could learn how to ride, like her mother, then it would be worth it.  
  
Since she had been a child she had loved horses, and wanted nothing more then to learn to ride them. Snowflame was her second pony; her first had been a small cart pony. When she turned seven her father said she was ready for a real riding pony, and she had gotten Snowflame, a well-bred and fine boned gelding. At first, her father had taught her the arts of riding, but in the last few years, he had been too busy to teach her. One of the soldiers had picked up her training, and starting this spring Ellédor was continuing with teaching her how to ride (mostly bare back), and soon he would begin to teach her how to train a young horse.  
  
Éllawyn grabbed a handful of mane as she struggled to keep herself moving with Snowflame, the she moved in time with him as he circled smoothly towards the next jump. It was not very high, but it took all of Éllawyn's concentration and energy to stay on Snowflame's back as he took the jump.  
  
"Bring him in the center and dismount." Ellédor knew when she had reached her limit. Éllawyn grimaced as her feet touched the ground and she leaned on Snowflame for some support as she regained her balance.  
  
"Will I ride again tomorrow?" Éllawyn asked.  
  
Ellédor look at her with his 'wise older brother look' as he thought for a minute. "If you feel up to it, or we might ride out to the herd and look for a mare for you to start training," he finally said as he handed the reins to Éllawyn. Her eyes lit up at the thought of finally starting to train her own mare. She started leading Snowflame into the stables; Ellédor walked beside her.  
  
"I'd like to look for a mare," Éllawyn said with a smile and Ellédor nodded, knowing that would be her answer. Between brother and sister, they soon had Snowflame rubbed down well and munching hay in his stall. Ellédor left soon after that to practice his swordsmanship with some friends of his. Éllawyn wandered through the stables, petting horses she knew here and there and spoiling them with grain from her pockets.   
  
Éllawyn neatly folded her clothes and packed them into her saddlebag along with a few other items. The ride out to the herd would take at least all day, maybe longer, depending on how far they had wandered in the last few weeks. The herds were allowed to wander free in the summer, and in the fall they were rounded up and kept near the Eohám in large paddocks all winter. It was not until after the foaling and breeding season that they were released again to roam the plains. Éllawyn quickly changed out of her dress into her riding clothes, and pulled on her riding boots. Her mother had almost had a fit when she heard Éllawyn was going on an overnight trip. Her father had had his hands full with mother, convincing Ivriniel that Éllawyn would be fine with her brother and the five riders going with them. Éllawyn couldn't wait to get going, it was still early, barely daylight. But they would be moving soon. She grabbed her saddlebags and headed down to the stables where she knew her parents would be waiting for her to say goodbye.   
  
Éllawyn handed her bags to the Ellédor so he could arrange them properly behind her saddle.  
  
"Éllawyn," Ivriniel beckoned her daughter over. She was wearing a simple dark blue dress, that made her eyes look darker then they were. Ivriniel clasped Éllawyn to her in a motherly huge, which Éllawyn returned happily. "You'll listen to your brother?"  
  
Éllawyn nodded her head.  
  
"And be careful? You let Ellédor and the men catch the mare."  
  
"Yes mother."  
  
Ivriniel kissed her on her forehead and let her go. Éllawyn took Snowflame's reins from the stable boy and quickly mounted, muscles still aching from the previous day. She was glad that today she was in a saddle.  
  
"Riders mount up!" the cry came and soon they were off, trotting down the dirt path. Éllawyn turned around in the saddle and waved to her parents.   
  
Ivriniel stood beside her husband as she watched her only daughter ride away. She sighed as she leaned her head on her husbands shoulder. He looked down at her with concern.  
  
"My lady?"  
  
"I'm fine Érod, it's just..." Ivriniel trailed off.  
  
"Just what, darling?" He asked gently  
  
"She's so young, she's only ten."  
  
"Eléon trained his first horse when he was nine, and Ellédor started even younger," Érod stated.  
  
Ivriniel sighed and spoke softly "It's not the same." Érod knew what was troubling his wife. In Rohan it was normal enough for a Lord's daughter to learn how to ride and train horses at a young age; while in Gondor, it was almost unheard of.  
  
"She is a daughter of both Rohan and Dol Amroth; she gets her love of horses from both sides. Would you have that taken from her?" Lord Érod asked his wife.  
  
"No, it's just she's growing up so fast. Before you know it she'll be married and have a family of her own." Ivriniel spoke sadly  
  
Érod chuckled softly "Lets not bring up the topic of her marriage yet... she's not that old." Ivriniel smiled at him as they made there way back to their home.   
  
Ellédor looked over his shoulder and grinned eagerly. They were finally out of sight, now they could really start to ride. Ellédor rode over to Éllawyn.  
  
"Ready to pick up the pace, sister?" Éllawyn look over her shoulder, Eohám was still in view, but she could just barely make it out. Éllawyn nodded with a grin very similar to her brothers. The group urged their horses into a slow canter; with the exception of Éllawyn's pony, who had to lengthen his stride and quickened it to keep up with the others. Éllawyn grimaced as she bounced a few times before finding the rhythm of Snowflame's canter. Every time she started bouncing, she remembered what her father and Ellédor had taught her; sit deep in the saddle and swing her hips with the horse. Soon she was enjoying the ride. Éllawyn's eyes sparkled with joy as she rode, the wind mingling with her hair, the sun making the green plain before them sparkle and gleam. It was beautiful and she knew then, she never wanted to be anywhere else.   
  
Éllawyn groan softly when she dismounted. In the last few months, she had been riding almost every day, but never for so long. They had reached the camp not long ago and had watched as her brother had greeted one of the men in charge of caring for the herd. She slowly led Snowflame over to where the other horses were being picketed and rubbed down. With aching muscles, she unsaddled her pony and started brushing him. Somewhere close she could hear the sounds of the men starting a fire and preparing the meal, another was setting up a tent for her. The rest were around her, brushing their horses and joking with each other. As they finished one by one, they started drifting towards the fire. The sounds of the night were starting to caress the evening breeze. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of the herd as they settled down for the night.  
  
"You planning on brushing him all night?" Ellédor asked with a smile as he walked up behind her.  
  
"If it takes that long to do it," Éllawyn said while she slowly curried Snowflame, "I don't think I've been so tired in my life."  
  
Ellédor chuckled. He had picked up a brush and was tackling Snowflame's other side. "I remember my first day of riding. It was exhausting. You did well for your first day." Éllawyn blushed slightly at the comment. "I heard you and Eléon were sampling some of his favourite cookies the other day," Ellédor said directly with a small grin on his face. Éllawyn blushed further. No one had brought it up with her, though Éllawyn knew Eléon had been punished for it. He had weeks of stalls to clean, not to mention the hours he was to spend cleaning saddles. "Eléon can be quite persuasive when he wants to be, can't he." Éllawyn gave a lady's version of a snort, though it sounded more like a humph.  
  
"You could say that."  
  
Ellédor chuckled again, "He's good at sneaking around." Ellédor became serious as he continued, "He has for years been trying to get father to let him train as a scout. Father thinks he could do better as a Rider, even though he knows Eléon excels in scouting. I think that's one of the reasons why Eléon keeps at his tricks, to prove to father how good he is; though he had no right dragging you into it."  
  
Éllawyn was a little shocked by what Ellédor had just said. It did make a lot of sense. She smiled softly as she thought of Ellédor; he could always understand what she or Eléon was thinking.  
  
"Come on lýtling ides, lets get you something to eat. You're probably starving."   
  
Éllawyn watched wide-eyed as they rode towards the herd. It was bigger then she had thought. This was the first time she had seen all their horses together. In the fall, the horses were brought in, in groups. She had never fully grasped the size of their family's wealth before. Horses of every colour milled about, young foals frolicked together playing games that they only knew the rules to. An older mare pinned back her ears at a younger one in annoyance. This was breathtaking. Ellédor rode up beside her and took in her dumbfounded expression.  
  
"Now you've got to pick one," he said laughing lightly.  
  
"Pick one? Impossible." Éllawyn was overwhelmed with them all.  
  
"Follow me; Halwine saw a few young prospects on the other side of the herd." Éllawyn nodded as she urged Snowflame after her brother's horse. Halwine was in charge of the men the looked after the herd throughout the summer. He was a young widower in his early thirty's, who had, after the death of his wife in childbirth, devoted his life to the horses he cared for now. They soon came to where one of the other riders was keeping a small group of three year olds together. Halwine rode up and bowed slightly to Éllawyn, who bow her head in response even though she blushed slightly.  
  
"The small grey seems to be the quietest of the five of them milady," he said nodding to a small dark grey filly with a kind face. "Your mother would probably want you to take her," he commented with a smile.  
  
Éllawyn studied the filly from where she sat. The filly had nice conformation, a smooth gait, and was relatively calm even though those around her were acting up.  
  
"Well Éllawyn, what do you think?" Ellédor asked.  
  
"She's nice, but I'd like to look around some more." Ellédor nodded in agreement.  
  
"Thank you Halwine, have her caught and keep an eye out for anymore promising ones."   
  
They looked around almost all morning, Éllawyn's eyes were bleary from all the different colours. She had picked out five very nice, calm fillies for further inspection when she noticed a black one standing by herself. Her was shaking and rolling her eyes a little, looking entirely terrified.  
  
"Ellédor, what's the matter with that black filly?" Éllawyn asked as she nodded in the filly's direction. Ellédor cocked an eyebrow at Halwine who was close by. Halwine looked at the mare for a moment before responding.  
  
"She's been that way for awhile. She's terrified of us, and shy of most of the other horses. Her mother was killed three months after she was born. She lets us handle her a little, but we try to leave her be most of the time. She's so scared of us."  
  
"The poor thing," Éllawyn looked at the filly with concern clear in her face. "Will she be trained at some point?" she asked Halwine  
  
"Eventually," Halwine said, "though it's too bad she won't make a good riding horse, her mother was such a beauty. And a smart one she was too." Éllawyn studied the mare closely, as she had done with countless others that day. She wasn't small or petite, but big boned and tall. Her face was well shaped, and her legs were made for running. Her only flaw was she was terrified.  
  
"When you handle her, is she ever aggressive or mean?" Éllawyn asked curiously. Ellédor eyed her suspiciously and gave her a warning look, but Halwine did not notice or find anything wrong with her asking such a question.  
  
"No, even though she's scared she's never tried to bite or kick."  
  
Éllawyn smiled at the news and stated with conviction. "She's the one I want."  
  
Halwine looked unbelievably at her. Ellédor only sighed and rolled his eyes.  
  
"Milady, you can't be serious." However, Éllawyn had made up her mind.  
  
"But I am serious; she's the one I want."  
  
Ellédor tried his luck at it. "Mother won't like her, you know that. She'll think she's not safe." Éllawyn pouted at him teasingly.  
  
"Don't care, I want her. She needs someone to love her and to help her trust again. I can do it."  
  
"It'll take time, lots of time," Ellédor warned. Éllawyn only shrugged, the poor filly needed her help.  
  
It had taken some convincing before Halwine had finally let her take the black mare. In the end, they ended up bringing two fillies back. The black one and the first gentle grey. Halwine had argued that the black filly wasn't ready to start training to ride yet and that before Éllawyn could even attempt to ride her, she would have to gain the mare's trust, something that might take years. It had taken some time to come to an agreement. Later that afternoon they set off towards home hoping to be there before noon the next day.   
  
Éllawyn watched closely as the black mare shifted nervously. She was picketed with another horse far enough away for her to be comfortable, but close enough so they could keep an eye on her. The sun had just set and the shadows were growing long. Ellédor was sitting close to her leaning against a tree. His eyes were closed as he listened to the sounds of the growing night.  
  
"Do you think I did the right thing?" Éllawyn asked somewhat hesitantly. Ellédor opened one eye to peer at her.  
  
"I do not know." Éllawyn sighed and squinted towards where the horses were standing. The black was barely visible in the growing dark.  
  
"She is a beauty though." Ellédor grinned as he leaned back against a large rock.  
  
"She was the finest there, aside from the fact she's terrified." Éllawyn smiled; glad she had picked out a good horse. The minutes past in comfortable silence before Éllawyn spoke.  
  
"It's growing so dark you can hardly see her."  
  
"Yes," Ellédor commented thoughtfully "It's like she becomes invisible in the night." Éllawyn started to move to go closer. "Éllawyn don't. You don't know how she will react to your presence and the last thing we need is a wild horse that we can't see." Ellédor said calmly. "Besides," he continued in an imitation of their mother's voice "it's way past your bedtime." His voice squeaked as he tried to imitate Ivriniel's voice like he use too. Éllawyn laughed as she watched the filly slowly disappear into the darkness before heading off to bed.   
  
Rohirric Translation little lady [lýtling (little as in infant) ides (lady)]  
  
Author's Note  
  
Thanks for taking the time to read this story so far. This is a revised version on my old fanfic (though it's been so 'revised' you can't even tell it's the same story). The first four chapters of it are going to be the hardest to write for me (so expect a wait between them)... I find it extremely hard to write 'girly' things. Constructive criticism is always welcome! I'm really trying to improve my writing, and Tolkien leaves so many stories untold. 


	2. The Story Continues

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry for the huge delay, I've had some horrible writer's block, and lots of "life" happening. This chapter isn't quite as long as I had hoped for, but I'm still fighting the WB and my muse is off gallivanting in the future portions of this story.

**Chapter Two - The Story Continues**

**By Kalythiana**

**Beta: TigerLily (you rock girl, thanks for making me look so good)**

**Lótessë**** (Mayish) 3rd, Spring of 2989 T.A.**

Éllawyn gazed towards home as they rode towards the mountains. Now that home was within view the horses had picked up the pace slightly, knowing warm mash and a good rub down awaited them there. Éllawyn glanced over her shoulder, and watched the black mare for a while before returning her attention to home. The blood in Éllawyn's veins pounded as the group broke into a canter. She felt like laughing and singing for joy. This was paradise. One of the soldiers started singing, his voice breaking through the thundering of hooves. Soon other voices joined his, joyous in the sight of home. Éllawyn was smiling so much she thought her face would split. Soon she too had joined the song, singing in harmony with Ellédor who rode beside her.

_Home is where, I breathe this wind_

_Home is where, I've laid my kin_

_Home is where, the horses run_

_My home is here, as is my love_

As they approached the gate, they slowed the horses bringing them in at a walk. Éllawyn saw her mother and father waiting for them by the stables. Ellédor and Éllawyn both noticed their mothers look of alarm as she looked over the black mare who had started shaking in fear.

"Ellédor how was the trip?" Érod asked with a grin as he slapped his son on the shoulder, before clasping his forearm in a warriors embrace. Éllawyn didn't hear his answer as her mother gave her a hug and a quick kiss.

"I missed you darling." Ivriniel whispered with a small smile.

"She can not keep that filly Érod; you know that, she's too wild!" Éllawyn could hear her mother's voice through the wooden door.

"I see no harm in it dear, she won't be training it right away, if ever. As long as she acts responsibly around the filly, I believe she will be fine. Éllawyn has a good head on her shoulders. She is your daughter after all." Érod finished with a chuckle.

"She may be my daughter Érod, but she is yours as well. Rohirrim will do anything for horses… how did your uncle die, Érod? It may have been an accident, but it could have been prevented if he had stayed away from that horse!"

At that moment Éllawyn heard footsteps coming down the hall, she scurried back to her room and carefully shut her door. She leaned against it as she thought of what she had heard, sighing she made her way to her bed and climbed in. She didn't want to make her mother angry or worried, but she had had this feeling when she saw the filly. As if she knew she was suppose to keep her.

Ivriniel stormed out of Érod and hers chambers, with him hot on her heels.

"Ivriniel, I…" Érod trailed off as Ivriniel spun around, tears trailing down her face.

"Érod, I need some time alone." Her voice quivered slightly, "please?" Érod nodded, with a sigh he watched his wife walk briskly down the hallway.

It wasn't long before Ivriniel was standing outside looking out over the plains. The wind was warm on her face, even if it was a gusting about quite furiously. The moon shone brightly, making the grass look like waves. For the first time in many years, Ivriniel felt a little homesick. By coming to Rohan, she had gained some freedom, as opposed to her sister who had married into more duties and a more confining life. Ivriniel was sure that was what had weakened her sister so much that a trifling cold killed her. Here in Rohan she had what she had always wanted, a husband who loved her for who she was, a family to care for, and the freedom to be who she was without having to worry about what the "court" thought of it. She knew that horses meant everything to the people of this country. She had been here long enough to feel the pain she knew everyone else was feeling watching the black filly tremble in fear. She closed her eyes as the wind whipped around her, pulling her troubles away with it. Érod was right, to an extent, if the filly really _wasn't_ dangerous, then there was no harm in Éllawyn working with her. With a determined smile on her face, she turned back into the house.

The sun was just about to rise, and Folwyn had not yet been to her room to start the morning fire. Éllawyn climbed out of her warm bed and onto the chilly stone floor. She hopped on one foot then the other as she hastily dressed. Pulling on an old cloak, she headed to the stables. As she walked through the village, she could see the beginning of stirrings in the houses. Smoke was starting to rise from the odd house, chickens were clucking for the grain, and a few early raisers like herself were scurrying through the street. As she walked into the stables, she breathed in the aroma of a busy, well used stable. The sweet smell of horse and hay, combined with leather and sweat. Éllawyn grabbed a handful of grain from the feed room and went straight to see her pony Snowflame. His grey nose peeked over the stall door as she walked up.

"Hey handsome" she cooed as she entered his stall. "I won't be riding you that much anymore, but I'll still come by to visit you." He contemplated her words as he devoured his grain. Éllawyn gave him a kiss and slipped out of the stall. "I have to see my new charge Snowflame, be a good boy today." With a pat, she headed to where they had put the new fillies.

The grey filly looked curiously at Éllawyn as she entered the stall.

"Hey there little lass, are you settling in alright? How about some grain" the filly sniffed it inquisitively, before nibbling delicately at it. Éllawyn giggled as she watched the filly turn from curious to definitely interested in what she had in her hand. "It's good isn't. You really need a name little lass." Éllawyn wondered aloud.

"What about Mithroeth." Ivriniel said from the stall door. "It means 'Grey Mare' in Sindarin."

"Mithroeth, I like it." Éllawyn rolled the name off her tongue. "What is Sindarin Mother?" Ivriniel smiled gently as handed Éllawyn a brush and together started grooming the quiet mare.

"Sindarin is the language of the elves."

"But elves are only a legend, a myth, how can they have a language?" Éllawyn asked

"That's what the Rohirrim say, but in my homeland we know better. The elves are as real as you and me. They are immortal, that much of the tales are true." Éllawyn's eyes widened. "In Gondor some still speak the language quite fluently. My family spoke it often at home, as does your Uncle Denethor's. The peasants and servants do not usually know it. Maybe that's why the high families started using it." Ivriniel mused. "But it is a beautiful language."

"Say something Mother!" Éllawyn asked with breathless excitement. Ivriniel laughed then spoke, the words flowing off her tongue in a flowery and haunting song.

"I shall have to start teaching it to you sometime." She kissed Éllawyn forehead and then with a impish smile tweaked her nose before letting herself out of the stall. "I have to make sure that the noon meal is started soon, and I have some dresses that need mending. I'll see you at the noon meal my daughter."

Éllawyn nodded as she finished combing out Mithroeth's silky tail.

"Oh and Éllawyn"

"Yes, Mama?

"You may work with the black filly, as long as you promise to take it slow."

Éllawyn squealed softly as she threw her arms around her mother's waist. "Thank you Mama, thank you so much."

Ivriniel quickly sorted through her old truck from when she was a child, she was sure she had some of her old elvish books in here somewhere. Nearing the bottom of the chest, she found a group of them wrapped in an old shawl. With a triumphant cry she pulled them out and set them on her bed, before packing the rest of the contents of the chest, back where they belonged. She should have given these books long ago to Éllawyn.

"Milady?" a voice asked from the door. Ivriniel looked up as she shut the chest lid.

"Ah, Mistress Farawyn." She said as she noticed the herb mistress standing in her doorway.

"I did not mean to interrupt milady."

"No interruptions, I just finished." Ivriniel said with a welcoming smile. "What can I help you with?"

"We've run out of Comfrey leaves milady, I could send out my apprentice, but she has not gathered them before and I fear she would not be able to find any this time of year." Farawyn said with a mischievous smile. When Ivriniel first arrived in Rohan, Érod had barely let her out of his sight, for fear she would get hurt someway or another. Farawyn had become her rescuer, asking for her help gathering herbs needed for the sick and injured or asking for her to come and discuss the different healing properties of different herbs, as Farawyn was 'always interested in how they healed in the south'.

Ivriniel chuckled. Farawyn had gotten quite good at reading her moods and knew when she needed to take a breather. "I would be honoured to gather some for you, Mistress. I believe the fresh air would do me good." They both grinned madly at one another for a moment, both trying to control their mirth.

"Shall I send to the stables to have them prepare a horse and escort for you milady?" Farawyn asked, as she chuckled.

"That would be wonderful Mistress" Ivriniel replied, and then as an afterthought added with a grin "Maybe you should look into finding yourself a new apprentice, this one doesn't seem to be learning anything."

Not long after a much more composed Ivriniel made her way to the stables dressed in an old dress especially tailored for riding astride, something she had started doing since she moved to Rohan. However, on the rare occasion she still rode sidesaddle. She nodded politely to her escort as she swung herself into the saddle without any assistance. She headed out at a trot, with the three soldiers following closely behind.

It wasn't long before they reached a small stream running near the base of the mountain, while one of the guards stayed with the horses, the other two followed her a few feet behind, to give her some space. Ivriniel systematically searched the bank of the river for the herb she was looking for. With a sigh, she started trudging up a hill, away from the horses. As she crested the hill, a look of horror passed over her face. As she spun around an arrow flew and hit her shoulder with a thud, one of the guards sprinted forwards and pulled her behind him, while the other whistled in warning to the guard who had stayed with the horses. As the two guards kept themselves between Ivriniel and the danger, the third rode up with the horses. Just then five Dunlandings charged over the hill, one went down immediately with a spear lodged deep in his chest. Ivriniel was passed up to the mounted Rider and the two on the ground quickly dealt out deathblows to the Dunlandings, but more swarmed over the hill. Swords clashed, and arrows whistled, the mounted rider urged his horse into a gallop as his companions swung on their horses and followed. They had to get their Lady to safety; they could deal with Dunlandings later.


End file.

Lord of the Rings, Adventure