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Author's Chapter Notes:
We learn a little more about Sídhiel and Idhreneth.

Chapter 5:

Ethuil, Northern Rohan, 2818 T.A.

The next morning, Idhreneth sent Sídhiel out to do her chores. After seeing to Gildor, Idhreneth and Erestor sat down to a light breakfast and tea. Idhreneth turned to Erestor and said, “I apologize if Sídhiel is troubling you. She has never been around many people, and in truth, only a couple of males ever. She is quite enamored of you since you have been so indulgent with her.”

“No apology necessary. I enjoy her. It is quite refreshing to be around such an exuberant force. She is delightful. Why exactly do you want me to take her away from here?”

She sighed, “The reality is that Sídhiel is going to be sixteen this fall and according to village custom, that makes her ‘of age’. Well, as you can obviously see, that is ridiculous, but Beórlen doesn’t care. He has staked a claim on her for his son and I fear for her safety.”

“That makes no sense. She is no blossoming young woman. She is but a young child. What are you not telling me, my lady?” Erestor could always detect lies, or even half-truths.

Idhreneth took a deep breathe and started, “Sídhiel’s mother was my daughter, Iestiel. Her father was an elf that my daughter brought home one summer. His name was Elúvan…” at hearing that name, Erestor stiffened. “Did you know him?” she continued.

“Possibly, but it is no matter now. Please do go on.”

“Well, he left Iestiel before any of us knew she was with child. His departure devastated my daughter. She barely survived long enough to birth Sídhiel. So, I have been raising my half-Elven granddaughter in this remote village full of suspicious, superstitious, small-minded people for the last 15 years!” She said, bitterly. “I was pleased when she did not have his beautiful leaf-shaped ears, but her slow physical development has caused talk, even if none here understand why she is as she is. In order to spare her foul treatment, I did not reveal that she is Iestiel’s child. They believe Iestiel and Elúvan ran off together and that Sídhiel’s mother was a young widow who died during childbirth. I took in the foundling. So far the ruse has worked, but she cannot stay here much longer. That is why I compelled you to give me your oath. I hope you understand. She must be gone from here, and soon.” The desperation and urgency was unmistakable in Idhreneth’s voice and though her tale was quite poignant, Erestor felt there was more, still unsaid.

“But, pen vuin, why not just take Sídhiel and leave? Why were you counting on sheer luck to bring you a savior? Please help me understand.”

Idhreneth sighed. She drank more tea and sat back, “That is a long story. My story. I must stay here if I ever hope to be with Iestiel’s father.” She waited for Erestor’s reaction and when he just sat there, expecting more, she continued, “I guess you should know the whole of it,” she said, almost to herself. “He is Léofa, the King of Rohan.”

Erestor concealed his surprise, “I see. Please go on.”

“We met before he was married but after he was already betrothed. It was too late for us. The union was already agreed to, and even though there was no love between him and Freáwyn, they were married. She insisted I not be allowed to stay in Edoras. Léofa was worried for my safety as she wanted me somewhere far away. She believed that time and distance would dim our love, but she was wrong. So here I am. A kept woman of a distant King who visits once a year,” she laughed, sadly. “We will be together again once she is gone,” she said, a little too firmly, almost as though she was trying to convince herself of the truth of her words.

“Do you see? I cannot just leave and take Sídhiel with me. I have nowhere to go, and even if I were free to leave, she needs to be with Elves, my lord. I have no idea how to find the fabled Imladris for I was oft told that it could only be found if you knew the way.”

“Do you not have family that would take you in? Would they not help?” Erestor pushed; his quick mind already working out many things about this lady.

“I am of the Dúnedain of the North. After Sigilir, my husband, was killed, I was to be married off to an old Ranger. I was expected to be a brood mare.” She continued, angrily, “I could not. I fled. That was how I met Léofa. He was Marshall of the Riddermark at the time.” Her eyes sparkled as she recalled how he looked astride his horse with his helm gleaming in the sun over dark blonde locks. “He saved me from orcs. I have no family to return to, nor would I if I could. They disowned me when I left. Now that you know my story, will you keep your word?” Idhreneth was almost begging.

“My dear, I am no oath breaker. In truth, from your tale of Sídhiel’s parentage, it is possible that she may even have relatives living in Imladris. If that is the case then it does make sense that she travel back to Imladris with Gildor and I. What of you? Will you just stay here, alone? Waiting for a summons that may not come?”

At his words, Idhreneth dissolved into tears. The years of waiting, the fear for Sídhiel's life, the loss of her daughter, the loss of her husband, and even the loss of her family all combined into a destructive force at this moment. Erestor held her and comforted her as best he could, but it took a very long time before Idhreneth could even catch her breath. Erestor was sorry for the torrent of emotions his questioning had unleashed but he felt that this woman needed the catharsis. She had obviously been focused on only a single outcome never daring to think what would happen if Freáwyn outlived Léofa.

After she had cried herself to exhaustion, Erestor laid the still trembling woman upon her own bed and set about making her some sleeping tea so she could rest. After she was truly asleep, Erestor checked on Gildor who was still unconscious. Erestor changed his bandages as Idhreneth had shown him to and then he spooned more of the healing tea into his friend. Erestor had never been very knowledgeable about more than rudimentary battle field aid so he was deeply grateful that she had been so diligent in her instructions to him.

It had been a taxing morning and Erestor was ready to rest himself when he heard horses outside. He then guiltily remembered that there was a young one somewhere about that had already been gone for hours! He strode to the door and opened it, not sure what he expected to see....

The sight that greeted him left him stunned. Sídhiel was actually riding Naurion, his temperamental steed! She was riding Elven style around the outside of the pen, while Húron paced them on the inside of the pen. The other horses were in the center of the pen quietly eating. Erestor stood there, mouth agape, until Sídhiel saw him and rode over. “Isn't he the most beautiful horse ever, Lord Er-es-tor?” After hearing a protesting whinny from Húron, she added, “the most beautiful black horse, ever. Of course, you're the most beautiful chestnut, Húron.”

Sídhiel's smile was blinding and Erestor felt himself smiling, too. “Thank you, Sídhiel. I've always thought Naurion was quite beautiful even if he is rather vain,” he said, which earned him a snort from the black stallion. “Tell me, pen dithen, how did you mount him and how did you learn their names?”

“They told me their names. I think they wanted to play so Naurion helped me. I asked if I could ride him and he got down on his knees so that I could crawl up. Isn't he just wonderful? Eyra's a wonderful horse, too, but she's not smart enough to bend down like that. And she’s not as elegant as your horse and she doesn’t understand my words, either. Is everything in your world so magical?”

Erestor tried to view his world through the eyes of a very sheltered, very young girl from a remote village in Rohan and he had to concede that to her, his world would be full of magic, “Yes, Sídhiel, I think you would find my home quite enchanting.”

“Can I come visit you sometime? I've never gotten to go farther than Lifman and I know everything around here. It'd be grand to get to visit your home! Please say I can? Please?” Sídhiel was bouncing up and down on Naurion's back and Erestor decided that he'd save his steed from her enthusiasm so he reached up and lifted her down before answering.

He knelt in front of her so he was at her eye level. He took her small hands in his own and looked into those trusting eyes, “I give you my word, pen dithen, you will come to my home, and soon. Would you like to go with Gildor and me once my friend is healed?”

Sídhiel's squeals were almost ear shattering as she hugged Erestor. And, he, for his part, was excited at the chance to get to know this exceptional child better.

TBC

Translations:
Ethuil – late spring
pen vuin – dear one
pen dithen – little one
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