Racing for Rohan – Chapter One

by Apr 24, 2003Stories

DISCLAIMER! – I dont own anthing thing lotr – if I did, I’d be rich! But seriously, this is just to provide me with something to do, and hopefully you with some entertainment.
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Racing for Rohan

The wind blew freely in her hair and the sun was beaming down, illuminating the Golden Hall. She felt the stride of the horse beneath her, the great grey stallion, galloping with unceasing rhythm, his mane a flurry, his ears pricked to the finishing line. Adrenaline course through her veins like a drug…she could see the crowds now…as she rounded the last corner, the finishing line came into full view…the crowds of people, jumping and screaming happily…screaming for her…the wind made her eyes water, but she kept going…alomst there..almost…

“AAARRRGGGHHH!” she screamed, and jolted out of her dream, drenched form head to toe in freezing water. Furiously, she rubbed her eyes clear, spluttering indignantly. From above her, she could hear hysterical laughter, and jumped at once to her feet.

“HAMA! GAMBLING! What on this Middle-earth do you think you are doing?!” she yelled at them, attracting some very some annoyed looks from the older stable hands at the same time. She glared with a poisoned stare, at the balcony that held the hay, above the stables. Slowly, and shaking with laughter, a round-faced blonde-haired boy peered over the edge down at her. However, the sight of the young woman, dripping and wet through, giving him icy looks and pouting like there was no tomorrow, only sent him into another fit of giggles.

“I’ll give you ’til the count of three,” she warned, pointing a finger at him, “Or I’m coming up there!”

“Oh, we’re sooo scared!” came the boy’s reply, “Aren’t we Hama?”

“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots Gambling!” another smarmy voice wafted down to her.

“One -“

“You couldn’t catch us, you’re just a girl!” squealed Hama.

“Oh really? – willing to bet? Two!”

Both boys knew very well that she was the fastest runner Edoras hed ever seen.

“Um -“

“Two and a half!”

“We’re only joking you know -“

“Three!”

“Run! !Quick, out the back!” cried Gambling in fear, and both boys bolted away form the edge, jumped out of a low window and ran out of sight.

The girl, however, did not chase after the, but reamined where she was, a mishchievous smile playing across her face. Oh yeah – she still had it…

She stood there for a while, a bemused smile on her face, until another voice brought her back to earth.

“Alarion! Would you care to explain to me exactly why you are drenched in water? And what was all that noise?” demanded her foster mother, Éothlyn.

“It was the boys – I was resting on the hay – they tipped a load of water on me -” but Alarion was interrupted.

“Day dreaming again? I should have know! I don’t want to hear it! Just go back to the house and change – and while you’re there, you can pick up our lunch as well. Now go!” and her voice raised slightly.

Alarion knew better than to argue – the old woman had a good heart, but she was strict and stubborn. She nodded silently and walked away up the stables, which for the most part were empty. Being spring, the herds were out across the plains.

Alarion emerged from the stable block and was immediately bathed in sunlight. It was warm and tingled against her wet skin. Looking up, she saw Meduseld, glinting majesticly in the golden light.

Gradually, while getting strange looks from passers by, she made her way up to the small wooden shack that was the home of her foster family:Éothlyn, her mother; her father, a farrier, Háland; and her two twin brothers, Theineld and Thengeld.

She stripped off her soaked garments and dried herself as quickly as possible. Rumaging through the drawers, she put on some fresh dry clothes, pleasent after the dampness, and hastily entered the kitchen to find lunch.

Luckliy, it didn’t take much searching – Éothlyn had left a small bundle lying on the old wonkey diner table, along with two water skins. Grinning to herself over her foster mother’s orderliness, she took the parcels and headed back down to the stables.

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