This is in the Two Towers: Extended Version, I think!
Really Theoden and Gandalf finds them, but in this Laurana does. :) It is unedited again, but enjoy. And please don't steal any of my ideas, especially the one about 'Lakita.'
Theoden's son already died. Eowyn and Laurana get along great, but the funeral just happened and Laurana wanted to get away. She's out riding Shadow (Shadowmane, her horse) on the Rohan plains. :)
Please leave a comment! If I have just one, I'll be sure to post the next part super fast! :)
-Madeline
I took a deep breathe of the air. I missed the clean, piney scent of the Slyvanester woods, but this was next the best thing. The air was thin and cold up here, and ripe and very refreshing, that gave your cheeks a red hue when outside for too long.
The rolling golden plains of the Rohan spread out before me as I sat on Shadowmane, taking it all in. A sharp wind blew, causing my hair to blow in all directions. I had taken my hair out of the neat updo Eowyn had made, and I loved the way my hair tickled my cheek.
Shadowmane began to walk along, and I let the reins dangle as I pressed my cheek against his neck, running my hand through his short coat, warmth reaching my fingers.
Shadowmane then let out a deep, shrill whinny all of the sudden. I looked around and saw a lone horse in the distance. My first thought it was Grima returning, but as the horse came closer I saw two small, huddled figures perched on the horse’s back, no bigger than a hobbit.
I urged Shadowmane forward, and I watched as the bigger of the two fell off the horse and landed on the ground, the other one screaming.
I reached them quickly, and swung off Shadowmane. The one that was screaming was a girl with a tear stricken face, no more than six or seven. “Garret, Garret!” she was crying.
I looked at her and touched her cheek, and she didn’t flinch. I then looked at the little boy that was huddled on the ground, near the weak and half starved horse. He was more around nine, and he had thick light brown curls. His face was covered with dirt, and he looked weak with hunger, not to mention that blood was crawling down his face from a small cut.
I kneeled down and felt his pulse. He was still alive, but just barely. I scooped him up, and he weighed almost nothing. “Shadow!” The stallion came over to me and I laid the boy gently on his back, arranging him carefully into the saddle so he wouldn’t fall off. “Take him to...take him to Legolas. Be swift, but careful,” I said.
Shadow snorted and twitched his ear, and then broke into a smooth and graceful lope, the little boy still unconscious.
I then turned wearily to the girl. She was still whispering and crying. She whimpered, and then held out her arms. “Oh, come here,” I said, melting. The little girl slipped into my arms and tears racked her little body. She weighed much less than her brother. Her fingers played with my hair as I rested my cheek on her head, singing her a song to calm her down. “May it be an evening star, shines down over you...may it be the shadows calm, your heart to be true…”
I grabbed the reins to the horse. Like his owners, the poor horse was covered with dirt and bruises, and looked so hungry and worn that he looked like he couldn’t take another step. But he did. I carried the girl while the gelding stumbled behind me for nearly half an hour, until there was another whinny and Shadowmane and Hasfuel appeared.
I smiled with relief, and the horses reached us in new time. Shadowmane didn’t have the boy on him anymore, and Aragorn jumped off his horse almost before it even stopped and ran toward me. “Are you all right?” he asked, grabbing my shoulders and looking at me.
I gave him a weak smile. “Yes. Did the boy make it back safely?”
Aragorn nodded. “Yes. When I left he still hadn’t awoken, but the best healer in the Golden Hall is caring for him now,” he said.
“Where’s Garret?” the little girl sniffed, looking up at Aragorn shyly.
I never saw Aragorn look more approachable. His face melted and he smiled gently at the girl. “Why, whose this?”
The little girl sniffed and leaned in closer to me. I chuckled slightly. Aragorn reached out and stroked her little head, and I gave the small girl over to him, glad of releasing my burden. She began to whimper, but then Aragorn began to craddle her like a little baby, singing her the most gentle, soothing song known to the elvish language. It only took moments before her eyes fluttered close and she was breathing evenly.
“Wow, you’re good,” I said, giving Aragorn a half smile. He returned it.
We decided Aragorn would take the little Rohan girl back to the Golden Hall with Hasfuel, while I followed behind on Shadow and the little brown gelding. Aragorn stepped up neatly in the saddle, and soon was gone, and I climbed up onto Shadow’s back, tying the horse--Roddie I affectionately named him--behind me as we followed after Aragorn.
I warmed my half frozen hands before the huge fire taking in the heat and the rich armora of food. Suddenly there was an outcry, and I turned around to see the little girl run toward me, the blanket around her shoulders flying behind her like a bird’s. “Lakita, Lakita!” she cried. She jumped in my arms and I held her close. “Lakita, Lakita!” she cooed.
I laughed. “Hello, little bird!”
She grabbed my cheeks and closed her eyes, and then planted a kiss on my forehead. What was she doing? She then smiled at me, her beautiful hazel eyes sparkling. “Lakita!”
“No, no, little bird. My name is Laurana, not Lakita!” I explained.
“No! Lakita! You are Lakita!” she said, her brow furrowing.
I turned to Eoywn for help, who was smiling at me. “What is she saying?”
“She is calling you Lakita,” said Eowyn.
“But why?”
“They come far in the west. Rohan has many tribes and this one: the Elderoian worship many Gods. One of these if Lakita, which she is calling you. Lakita is the goddess of children, families, and the hunt,” said Eowyn.
“Oh,” I said, trying to take it all in. “I see.”
Most of the people were staring at me, and Legolas smiling at me, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.
“What’s your name?” I asked little bird, taking her over to Eowyn, who was sitting with the boy. The boy looked much better now. He was cleaned and washed up and had gotten a haircut, and was wearing clean clothes though they were much too big for him. He was shoveling the stew so fast in his mouth you would’ve thought he would be bursting at the seams.
The girl smiled and began to eat, as I adjusted the blanket around her shoulders.
“What’s your name?” I then tested the boy. He looked at me wairly and then wiped his mouth and grinned at me.
“My name is Garret. This is my sister Rue, though she won’t tell you that,” he said.
I smiled. “My name is Laurana,” I said, holding out a hand. Garret shook it gravely.
“My sister calls you Lakita. Lakita is our Goddess, and my sister favors her. I know you are not Lakita, but you have the goddess with you.” I bit my lip. The boy smiled. “I’m glad though. Rue isn’t quick to trust, but she loves you,” said Garret.
I laughed. Eowyn handed me a bowl of stew, and I almost died. The broth was thick and beefy, and the potatoes and carrots with the chunks of meat were too perfect. I good see why the children were eating it so quickly.
Finally though, with lots of nudges from Eowyn, I asked the boy what happened. As he explained how their village had been overrun by orcs and everyone was slaughtered around them but how they finally escaped on the horse, Eowyn was holding Rue tightly while I stared at the boy while braiding Rue’s hair back, trying to take it all in. The boy tried to speak bravely and boastingly, but Garret’s lip trembled a little bit, but he was trying to be tough for his sister’s sake.
When Garret finished, everyone who heard was silent. Then, with a yawn Rue wiped her eyes.
Gertrude, the plump old woman was to be their caretaker until we could find their relatives or someone else to take them in, came over like a clucking hen over her brood. “Come on, children, let’s go to bed.”
Garret stood up, but Rue hung onto me. “Where’s momma?”
I stared down into those wide eyes. How could I tell her that perhaps her momma was dead? “Shh...shh...It’s all right,” I said, giving her a hug.
“Will I see her again? Promise?”
“I promise,” I said in spite of myself.
She then smiled up at me, planting a kiss on my cheek. “Good night, Lakita,” she then danced away with Gertrude and her brother. I watched them leave the hall, anger growing inside of me as I turned around, glaring at Theoden.
