Lord of the Rings fanfiction
Mar. 1st, 2007 07:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosa_cottonTitle: Why a Child Laughs
Rating: G (K)
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. Iris and the plot belong to me.
Summary: After a frantic search, a nurse finds her charge in the garden with a new friend.
~~~
Iris rushes through the corridors, trying to catch her breath without slowing her pace. Her charge has escaped her watchful eye, again. This is the fourth time this week. And the child is barely five! The nurse shakes her head in dismay. She only hopes news of her misfortune will not come to her mistress’s ears.
She is growing desperate. She has checked all the usual places the child usually wanders off to, but they are all empty. Every servant she passes she asks if her charge has been seen; but no one seems to know where she is. She is certain she has searched the entire Golden Hall.
Now overwhelmed with panic, Iris slows down to a walk and goes out into the garden. Sitting herself down on a bench, she takes a handkerchief from an apron pocket and bursts into weeping. She shall be in such dreadful trouble. To lose her charge! What a disgrace. What will her mistress say? After blowing her nose and attempting to wipe away her tears, she glances up at the sky, and a new wave of distress comes over her as she realizes the sun has set.
She is on the verge of breaking into sobs once again when a distant sound of childish laughter reaches the nurse’s ears. Iris stiffens, her eyes wide. Was that…. The merry laughter comes again. Iris jumps to her feet. She rushes almost blindly through the garden, only pausing to gaze down the other paths that break away from the one she follows. Another burst of giggles fills the air, this time joined by a deep rumble of laughter. Iris peeks down another path to discover an occupied bench.
“Lady Eowyn!” Iris cries joyfully and runs forward.
Eowyn, seated on the bench, is carefully examining the hair of a man crouched before her when she is dragged into Iris’s arms. The older woman starts crying all over again, this time in relief and joy. She ignores the child’s attempts to wiggle free from her grasp. Finally, she lets the girl down but places her hands firmly on the little one’s shoulders.
“My Lady, never run from me like that again!” Iris manages, despite her tearstained face, to appear and sound stern.
Eowyn looks up at her with wide, innocent eyes. “I only wanted to go outside, Iris,” she explains simply to her nurse.
A weary smile crosses the woman’s face, and she shakes her head. Eowyn’s face lights up, and she steps out of Iris’s grasp. The child turns back to her silent, watchful companion who, understanding, hands her a bunch of flowers.
“Look, Iris!” she exclaims excitedly. “We picked flowers for you.” She holds the bouquet out to her nurse with a loving look.
“Oh.” Iris carefully accepts the flowers. “Thank you, Eowyn,” she says, nodding.
Eowyn claps her hands, delighted that Iris likes her gift.
Iris glances at the man who obviously has been Eowyn’s chosen playmate and, gasping, drops into a deep curtsy. “Lord Thorongil! I apologize if she has caused you trouble…” Worry bubbles up inside the poor woman. The Lord Thorongil had arrived just yesterday and had not met Lady Eowyn.
Thorongil shakes his head. “She has been a perfect lady,” he reassures her.
He kneels when Eowyn skips back to his side and reaches a hand up. She takes a handful of his hair in her little hands. “I have never seen black hair before,” she says, something like awe in her voice. “Have you ever seen black hair before?” she asks her nurse.
Iris humbly shakes her head.
Eowyn looks into Thorongil’s eyes. “I like your hair,” she says.
“I am glad, my Lady,” he answers respectfully, his eyes twinkling.
“Come now, Eowyn,” Iris begins, only to be interrupted by the child.
“And I like you!” she claims, nodding her head firmly and giving the man a bright smile.
At this Thorongil’s weary, grim face breaks into a large smile, and a deep chuckle escapes his lips. “Thank you, my Lady,” he replies. He tries to nod, but his hair being held prisoner makes it nearly impossible. Iris is amazed, for Eowyn does not take to strangers so easily.
“Do you like me?” the girl asks curiously.
“Yes, I think I like you very much,” he answers after a moment’s pause.
Joy lights the child’s face.
“Eowyn, come. It is time for bed,” Iris instructs.
“Oh, can’t we stay?” Eowyn begs, turning sad eyes to her nurse.
“No.” She firmly takes her charge by the hand. “You have already stayed out later than you should. You can play more tomorrow.” She gently starts ushering the child down the path.
“Will you be here tomorrow?” Eowyn asks her new friend over her shoulder as she is insistently pulled away.
“Yes, my Lady Eowyn. I will be here,” Thorongil says.
Having to be content with this reassurance, Eowyn sadly waves goodbye to him and allows Iris to lead her back into the Golden Hall and be put to bed.
THE END
~~~
Author's Note: Thorongil is the name Aragorn had when he stayed in Rohan and Gondor for a time many years before the War of the Ring. According to the timeline in the Appendix, Aragorn served in Rohan and Gondor quite a number of years before Eowyn’s birth; I think however there was a slight possibility he may have visited Rohan and met young Eowyn.
Rating: G (K)
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. Iris and the plot belong to me.
Summary: After a frantic search, a nurse finds her charge in the garden with a new friend.
~~~
Iris rushes through the corridors, trying to catch her breath without slowing her pace. Her charge has escaped her watchful eye, again. This is the fourth time this week. And the child is barely five! The nurse shakes her head in dismay. She only hopes news of her misfortune will not come to her mistress’s ears.
She is growing desperate. She has checked all the usual places the child usually wanders off to, but they are all empty. Every servant she passes she asks if her charge has been seen; but no one seems to know where she is. She is certain she has searched the entire Golden Hall.
Now overwhelmed with panic, Iris slows down to a walk and goes out into the garden. Sitting herself down on a bench, she takes a handkerchief from an apron pocket and bursts into weeping. She shall be in such dreadful trouble. To lose her charge! What a disgrace. What will her mistress say? After blowing her nose and attempting to wipe away her tears, she glances up at the sky, and a new wave of distress comes over her as she realizes the sun has set.
She is on the verge of breaking into sobs once again when a distant sound of childish laughter reaches the nurse’s ears. Iris stiffens, her eyes wide. Was that…. The merry laughter comes again. Iris jumps to her feet. She rushes almost blindly through the garden, only pausing to gaze down the other paths that break away from the one she follows. Another burst of giggles fills the air, this time joined by a deep rumble of laughter. Iris peeks down another path to discover an occupied bench.
“Lady Eowyn!” Iris cries joyfully and runs forward.
Eowyn, seated on the bench, is carefully examining the hair of a man crouched before her when she is dragged into Iris’s arms. The older woman starts crying all over again, this time in relief and joy. She ignores the child’s attempts to wiggle free from her grasp. Finally, she lets the girl down but places her hands firmly on the little one’s shoulders.
“My Lady, never run from me like that again!” Iris manages, despite her tearstained face, to appear and sound stern.
Eowyn looks up at her with wide, innocent eyes. “I only wanted to go outside, Iris,” she explains simply to her nurse.
A weary smile crosses the woman’s face, and she shakes her head. Eowyn’s face lights up, and she steps out of Iris’s grasp. The child turns back to her silent, watchful companion who, understanding, hands her a bunch of flowers.
“Look, Iris!” she exclaims excitedly. “We picked flowers for you.” She holds the bouquet out to her nurse with a loving look.
“Oh.” Iris carefully accepts the flowers. “Thank you, Eowyn,” she says, nodding.
Eowyn claps her hands, delighted that Iris likes her gift.
Iris glances at the man who obviously has been Eowyn’s chosen playmate and, gasping, drops into a deep curtsy. “Lord Thorongil! I apologize if she has caused you trouble…” Worry bubbles up inside the poor woman. The Lord Thorongil had arrived just yesterday and had not met Lady Eowyn.
Thorongil shakes his head. “She has been a perfect lady,” he reassures her.
He kneels when Eowyn skips back to his side and reaches a hand up. She takes a handful of his hair in her little hands. “I have never seen black hair before,” she says, something like awe in her voice. “Have you ever seen black hair before?” she asks her nurse.
Iris humbly shakes her head.
Eowyn looks into Thorongil’s eyes. “I like your hair,” she says.
“I am glad, my Lady,” he answers respectfully, his eyes twinkling.
“Come now, Eowyn,” Iris begins, only to be interrupted by the child.
“And I like you!” she claims, nodding her head firmly and giving the man a bright smile.
At this Thorongil’s weary, grim face breaks into a large smile, and a deep chuckle escapes his lips. “Thank you, my Lady,” he replies. He tries to nod, but his hair being held prisoner makes it nearly impossible. Iris is amazed, for Eowyn does not take to strangers so easily.
“Do you like me?” the girl asks curiously.
“Yes, I think I like you very much,” he answers after a moment’s pause.
Joy lights the child’s face.
“Eowyn, come. It is time for bed,” Iris instructs.
“Oh, can’t we stay?” Eowyn begs, turning sad eyes to her nurse.
“No.” She firmly takes her charge by the hand. “You have already stayed out later than you should. You can play more tomorrow.” She gently starts ushering the child down the path.
“Will you be here tomorrow?” Eowyn asks her new friend over her shoulder as she is insistently pulled away.
“Yes, my Lady Eowyn. I will be here,” Thorongil says.
Having to be content with this reassurance, Eowyn sadly waves goodbye to him and allows Iris to lead her back into the Golden Hall and be put to bed.
THE END
~~~
Author's Note: Thorongil is the name Aragorn had when he stayed in Rohan and Gondor for a time many years before the War of the Ring. According to the timeline in the Appendix, Aragorn served in Rohan and Gondor quite a number of years before Eowyn’s birth; I think however there was a slight possibility he may have visited Rohan and met young Eowyn.
