Add Story to Favourites Tales of Telcontar by lindahoyland
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These characters all belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. This story was written for pleasure and not for financial gain.  

   

“Where’s naneth and ada?” Eldarion demanded of his nanny when he failed to see his mother at breakfast.

 

“Your mother is not feeling very well and your father is taking care of her,” the nurse explained. ”You shall see them later. Now eat your breakfast, Master Eldarion.”

 

Eldarion spooned his porridge thoughtfully. His naneth had not been well yesterday morning either, though she had played with him later that day. He felt scared. Why had ada not made her better by now? Perhaps he could do something to help? He remembered the nursery maid going to visit her mother when she was ill and taking her a warm shawl  and a cake, and some flowers and then announcing she was much better when she returned. Ladies didn’t wear shawls when it was warm and Eldarion had no idea how to bake a cake. That left flowers and naneth loved flowers!

 

As it was fine summer morning, Eldarion’s nurse took him to play outside in the gardens. The woman was soon engaged in chatting to the cook who had come outside in search of herbs. The little boy was left to his own devices, wishing as he often did for a playmate. A bored looking guard followed the child, but made no efforts to entertain him.

 

Eldarion decided to go in search of some flowers for his mother. He was about to pick some daises for her; the pretty pink tipped ones, when he espied a bed of white and yellow flowers. Eldarion’s face lit up. These were special Elven flowers that his naneth had told him had come from where grandfather and grandmother used to live. Surely these would cheer naneth up and make her better? Swiftly Eldarion gathered as many of the flowers as he could. He then heard his nurse calling and ran back to her.

 

Eldarion was pleased to discover that his mother was now up and in her sewing room. He was about to run up to her with the flowers when he realised that she had a visitor. The little boy recognised the head gardener, a burly fellow with a bushy black beard whom he always found rather scary. The gardener was obviously in a very bad mood.

“Some wicked thief has stolen your elanor and niphredil flowers, my lady!” he cried.

 

“This is an outrage!” Arwen replied. ”Have the guards search for the culprit and arrest him!”

 

The gardener bowed low and stormed off.

 

Eldarion stood rooted to the spot in terror. The flowers spilled from his hands.

 

“Eldarion!” exclaimed the Queen. ”Whatever are you doing with my flowers? You are a naughty boy!”

 

The child burst into tears.” I’m sorry,” he sobbed. ”I wanted to bring you flowers to make you better!”

 

Arwen softened and drew her son into her arms. “That was a kind thought,” she said, “though you must not pick the flowers, except buttercups and daisies in future without asking. I’m not, ill, instead I have some very good news. You will have a brother or sister to play with in a few months time.”

 

Eldarion beamed. At long last he would have someone to play with.


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