Cat's Gift

Éomer cursed and rubbed his aching backside. He was furious, as furious as he had not been in a long time – and that said a lot for a man with a legendary temper who was also the father of an energetic young boy. But in all fairness it had to be said that it was not Elfwine's fault – at least not this time.

He cursed again as he lifted the offending creature out of the chamber pot and threw it unceremoniously onto the floor. The cat landed with its inborn grace on its paws, turned around to face him and, wait, was the feline smirking at him? Were cats even supposed to smirk?

Éomer would not be surprised if this particular cat was the only one that could.

No matter where he put the animal, that audacious cat always managed to find its way back into his quarters. This nefarious feline lady reminded him of the story of Berúthiel and her cats, although this one looked as if butter would not melt in her mouth.

But this time she had gone too far and Éomer would send her into exile, as far away as possible. This creature would never again set a paw into his hall! And Éomer already knew exactly where it would go.

“What do you think about making a nice journey to our Gondorian friends? We have a birthday present to deliver.”

The cat gave no answer.

***

Eldarion's eyes gleamed when he looked into the basked Éomer had just handed him. The cat got up from her blankets and looked curiously at the new surroundings, her gaze finally settling on the new face.

“And it is really mine now?” Eldarion asked, “I have never had a pet before.”

Éomer suppressed a smug grin and settled for a friendly smile. “Of course she is. And what will you call her?”

The little boy bit his lip and looked thoughtful. “Perhaps something in your language. Do you know a nice name?”

For a moment Éomer was tempted to give her an insulting name, but that might make the boy's father suspicious as for the reasons why he had gifted Eldarion with a cat. “We could call her Freya. How would you like that?”

Eldarion nodded enthusiastically. “And what does it mean, Éomer?”

“It means “highborn lady” and fits well for a young lord such as you. Do you want to show her to your father?”

“Oh, yes,” Eldarion cried and was off. In his excitement he did not even notice that Freya had jumped out of the basket and was approaching Éomer.