| Login | Lost Password | Help | Rules | | |

Most Recent

A Faerie Slashy Advent Calendar by Naledi Mature
A round-robin advent calendar. Elrohir is pursued by orcs to the eaves of Mirkwood. What happens next is anyone's guess.
Beast by Nuredhel Mature
Bard Bowman is working as a police investigator, when the serial killer he is chasing proves to have a very long history...
Child of Dying Embers by arafinwean Mature
"We are not the same, child of Melian, you were born of love and trust and I? I was born of hate and envy."She is not supposed...
Change by arafinwean Mature
Fingon takes Maedhros from Thangorodrim, but the journey isn't pleasant, nor is all forgiven.Maedhros is released from Thangorodrim...
Even the Birds Are Chained to the Sky by cheekybeak Teen
The story of Legolas, Elrohir and Maewen in Valinor. A Silvan child runs free and safe in Valinor but how free is he? A mother...
Ossė's Gift by elfscribe Mature
On a sea voyage from Umbar, Erestor becomes enmeshed in intrigue while fighting his secret feelings for his irritating and...
Senses Over Time by NelyafinweFeanorion Teen
A Gift fic for Cheekybeak based on the characters in her story Fire Dancing Upon Our Souls. Set in that same timeframe, as...

Site Info

Members: 475
Series: 80
Stories: 1597
Chapters: 8199
Word count: 24672775
Authors: 137
Reviews: 14891
Reviewers: 219
Newest Member: ainisarie
Beta-reader: 29
Recommendations: 52
Recommenders: 13
Challenges: 14
Challengers: 9
 

Who's Online

Guests: 10
Members:

Shoutbox

Narya
12/12/17 11:12 pm
Oh, ziggy, btw, are you happy with Friday or is Saturday easier for you? I can do either.
Narya
12/12/17 03:27 pm
Great pair of chapters, ziggy and cheeky! I'm so excited to see what happens next.
NelyafinweFeanorion
12/12/17 02:12 pm
Ok Ziggy Thursday it is for me!
cheekybeak
12/12/17 10:28 am
I managed it :-) and even got the next chapter up early! Not my best, but it was a busy day. That's my excuse.
ziggy
12/12/17 07:26 am
@Cheekybeak- Haha! Serves you right for the last curved ball:D Nelya- yes, fine. You do Thursday, I'll find it easier doing Friday anyway.
NelyafinweFeanorion
12/12/17 01:14 am
Ziggy do you have Thursday too? If not I can do Thursday instead of Friday if someone else wants to pick up Friday? Let me know!
cheekybeak
12/12/17 01:05 am
Oh, seriously, Ziggy?? What are you doing to me?! How do I follow that???
cheekybeak
12/12/17 12:58 am
Me!
ziggy
12/12/17 12:16 am
OK- sorry ! Who's next?
ziggy
12/11/17 10:41 pm
I am onto the next chapter but got home very late- apologies. Scribbling away as we speak (sort of)
Shout Archive


The Reward by Ysilme

[Reviews - 1]   Printer
Table of Contents

- Text Size +
Story notes:

Disclaimer: This is a work of transformative fiction based on JRR Tolkien’s creation, done purely for enjoyment. No infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Notes: A birthday ficlet for Lord Hellebore who asked for Éowyn and Gríma and “Something happy, at least while it lasts”.
Many thanks to curiouswombat for the beta. All remaining mistakes are my own.


Following the usual, morning knock the door opened and Éowyn entered. Théoden King's young niece had only recently arrived at Edoras, following the death of her parents, and now came to the young scribe every day to be taught her letters.

Gríma laid his quill down and got up from behind his desk, moving over to the table where the girl was spreading out her things.

“Good morning, Éowyn.”

She smiled up at him. “Good morning, Master Gríma! Look, I have done all my exercises.”

Gríma slid onto the bench at her side, carefully examining the wax tablet she held up to him. She had learnt a new letter yesterday and had practised it with varying skill. Gríma found it hard not to smile at the wobbly letters and her eager diligence to get it right. Éowyn was a delightful child, full of life and cheerfulness, despite the sad fate that had brought her to her uncle’s home and the somewhat severe lifestyle of the Royal Court. But she was also exuberant and constantly on the move, preferring to be outside and with the horses. Sitting down quietly for any indoor occupation was hard for her, and results were sometimes only achieved with a lot of coaxing and tears of frustration.

Gríma, who was young to be a scribe at the king’s court, had neither experience with children nor as a tutor, but he had learned quickly how to encourage her and that rewards worked much better than criticism. She could concentrate best when listening to a gripping story, and Gríma, who was well-versed in the lore of their people, chose suitable tales from their past to inspire her interest. Learning new letters from the names of the hero or, preferable, heroine of the latest tale was much more entertaining than from boring everyday terms, particularly if it earned her a new song or another story to be told, and she was really doing well by now.

“Very good, Éowyn, you did well. You deserve a reward.”

Éowyn’s eyes lit up at his smile. “What is it going to be, Master Gríma? A new drawing for me?”

The scribe’s smile deepened. “Yes, if you like. Do you have your booklet?”

“Yes!” Éowyn shouted eagerly, jumping up and fetching her scrip. It also held many things unrelated to lessons, and it took a moment until she had found the item in question. A bit red in the face, she brought it back to the table, setting it before her tutor.

The booklet had also been Gríma’s idea, earning him the praise of the king’s housekeeper who was responsible for the Lady Éowyn’s education in more feminine pursuits. Sewing, like writing, was a task the girl found utterly boring, and especially so because it required sitting quietly. When Éowyn had once complained loudly about these lessons, which were useless in her eyes, Gríma had pointed out that she needed to learn to sew so she would be able to repair tack, and that every Rohir could sew well enough to repair clothing when on patrol or travelling. But instead of kerchiefs and shifts to hem he gave her a little piece of leather and some scraps of parchment, and taught her how to sew it together to create a little booklet. Sewing lessons were grudgingly accepted after that.

When Éowyn had earned her next reward, she had asked him if he could draw her a horse instead, and had presented him with her booklet. The result, a small, well-executed drawing of a running stallion, had delighted Éowyn so much that a drawing of an animal had become her favourite prize.

“A stag, please, Master Gríma, a stag!” she now begged, hopping up and down in excitement.

Gríma laughed. “All right, little lady, but you must sit down again. I cannot draw if you are jumping around like a filly.”

~ finis ~

You must login () to review.