Chapter 3: Tenar's arrival

The breeze was stunningly calming as the port of Havnor came in sight. All worries that had been weighing down Tenar's shoulders slowly ceased and a satisfying smile crept onto her lips. It had been a while for her to travel long and far like this, and what's more with Tehanu by her side, she had never thought that they would actually reach the destination. She knew that child didn't like people much and to think that she had good-naturedly survived the voyage without any problem was a good sign. She hoped that no trouble will occur once they reach the royal palace later. That child, she hated attentions.

Tenar squinted to find the dock more crowded than usual. The people around looked restless too, not in the distressing way but, strangely enough, in the other way round. The air felt different too, for some reasons. Tenar could not put a finger on it but the people of Havnor seemed to be celebrating something.

Not far from the port, furthermore, anchored in the water of Havnor was a gallant ship of great draught with many kingly oars, and its great magnificent sail softly fluttering in the wind. Tenar recognized the flags and the figurehead at once, almost sending chills down her spine. Were she a different woman, she might as well cross the railings and throw herself overboard. Yet, she was Tenar of Gont, who was brave, who had traveled far and seen many things, who was now, needless to say, unbound and free and the murky memories were but a tale long gone in the diary of her life. She stood, instead, steadily, calmly, watching the ship and crowds with awe. Now, that she was looking carefully at them the second time, she noticed a happy cheering crowd complete with colourful balloons and… what are those?... garlands of many sorts. Such happiness, an unexpected smile crept back onto her lips. Still, she could not stop to wonder why the royal ship was there, on the first place.

"Will there be a festival in Havnor?" Tenar asked the shipwright, who happened to stand with her on the deck.

"Festival indeed, my lady. Not a week ago, the Lord of Maharion had accepted a consort from Kargs."

"A consort?" Tenar almost spat out the words in surprised. It took her all to actually calm herself down yet appeared normal in front of the good shipwright. In her mind, she noted that Lebannen had said nothing in his letter about that, save the dragons. Whether Lebannen had turned pretty sly himself with age by referring the princess with the dragon, she had no idea at all. But, judging by how Lebannen was, as Tenar knew how he was, she surely doubted it. Must be a surprise, indeed. "You mean King Lebannen and Princess of Kargs are engaged?" she asked curiously.

"For the peace treaty, Madam," the shipwright confirmed rather delightedly. "King Lebannen had asked for a truce. It is indeed the era of change. No one wants to be in war anymore, now, do we? Even for the people of Kargs. Thus, the king of Kargs had offered his daughter for the peace of both countries."

Why am I not surprised? Kargs always had many daughters after all. Yet, Lebannen…

"Everyone is looking forward to the wedding!" he continued. "Enough with the rumours of Ladyship This and Countess That – I wonder why they love the gossips so much. Finally, Havnor will truly have a queen!" The shipwright said admiringly with a big laugh. Tenar had softly laughed along with him as well, since it seemed to be the most prudent thing to do. Inside, however, she could not help being worried. Lebannen didn't seem to care about marriage at all- in his many letters, lax or urgent, he never even mentioned it once- nor did he was in an age eager enough to be involved in one. Yet perhaps, she had forgotten how big he had grown to be so surprised to the news of him getting engaged.

Wake up, Tenar, he's not a child, anymore! Oh, Arren, my boy, Ged will be surprised that his eyes will bulge out!

"When will the wedding ceremony be, I wonder?" she asked after a while looking at the excited crowds of people. Surprisingly, the shipwright had not answered her question as quickly as he did before. In fact, the moment she turned to study his face, she saw an anxiously embarrassed face.

"Well, they… actually, Madam, even during the receptions…they…they never say," thus, he said awkwardly before walking away. Tenar stared at his retreating back curiously as she pondered on what that meant.

Hmmm… did I smell a rat, somewhere…this doesn't bode very well.

It was really at that time, Tehanu came over, leaning against her like a cat, with the fingers of her good hand entwining with hers. Despite the good weather, she had the hood of her blue cloak on, hiding the half of her scarred face and the soft fabric gently brushed against Tenar's cheeks as she nuzzled against her shoulders. Really, she had done so just once after they sat sail from Gont and that was when they came across a nasty storm along the way. Tenar wondered, what had made the brave hearted Tehanu to come over seeking comfort, this time? Perhaps, it was the excitement in the air at the port of Havnor that made her dragon heightened senses flared. Dragons, young or old, disliked crowds. Tenar smiled, reaching over, patting her head softly.

"Are you not feeling well, Tehanu?" Tenar asked, the smile never leaving her lips.

"Nervous," the girl said simply with her usual quiet voice.

"Nervous?"

"I don't like palace to begin with." There was a sulky pitch in her voice that made Tenar's smile widened. So, she was finally at her limit. She had been very good the entire voyage though, and that deserved some credits. Obviously, she needed to choose a different route to the palace after this, the one of the quietest and the less traveled by, for Tehanu's sake.

"But, this is Lebannen's palace we are talking about…" She told her in her gentle motherly tone while rubbing the back of the child's hand with her thumb.

"How can it be that different?" she replied rather morosely still.

"He's a nice king, and he knew you. He will treat us well." Tenar inwardly snorted to herself amused. She had said it as if to comfort a child of a new neighbour who will never tease her. She doubted that a girl, Tehanu's age, would really buy it. But, this is Tehanu we're talking about, she was, no matter how she looked, no matter what she was, Tenar's dearest daughter. She knew her, and she knew her well.

There was a soft grunt coming from the girl as she pouted under her hood. In truth, she still had a faint memory of being held in the arm by a gentle nice-smelling young man. She didn't know that he was a king then, even if Tenar had told her so. Drat, she didn't even know what a 'king' means!

"Besides, after reading his letter, you decided to help him, didn't you? And that is why we are here. I have always trusted your decision, Tehanu." Tenar felt a squeeze in her hands as her child literally buried her face onto her shoulders. Like what was said, she knew Tehanu well. She knew how fragile yet how strong she was. In fact, she was really, really strong. She just needed a little motivation, that was all. And, no matter what, she would always protect her. Hoping not to face anymore trouble for her sake, with a hopeful smile she squeezed hers back.

"I want to help him, but…please…just please… stay by my side, Tenar."

The ambassadors from Kargs lined up gallantly at the entrance of the castle during the leave taking ceremony as their representative made his speech. Truthfully, Arren understood nothing of what being said. He stood silently and patiently in front of the courtyards of men, waiting for his interpreter to announce things in Hardic. The representative was expressive enough while making that speech though, and Arren could guess a hundred misunderstandings from those interesting facial expressions. Still, he held himself together and kept listening.

In truth, Arren felt slightly tired. He drained himself with too much thought lately, he was aware of that, and at night, he keeps loosing sleep. Now, even he was in a middle of an important ceremony – a ceremony he had been looking forward to and avoided all at the same time- he couldn't stop his mind looking at such useless details – as useless as the representative's funny facial expression- for his own royal amusement.

"As stated in our King's gilded scroll, The High Princess will remain in Havnor so long as Havnor needed her and do her honour…"

Arren's eyes slightly widened to the mention of the royal gilded , his heart almost dropped to his feet because of it, but being a trained and collected king and all, nothing betrayed his expression. I swear there wasn't any contract I need to sign there, wasn't there? They didn't want it back, did they? He had no idea how to explain to them that how in Earthsea the scroll ended up ripped to tatters. Damn you, Thol! I really did lose it that day! Yet, slowly, Arren began to feel guilty of what had happened.

"Therefore, we shall sail back to Kargs with the tidings of this treaty, to our Lordship, King Thol, son of Thoreg, and hereby convey whatever the Lord of Havnor dictates upon us, and upon our Ladyship."

Again, the pin drop silence ensued. All ambassadors, guests and courtiers, including his people down there in the courtyards were all still, waiting for his ultimate answer to break the silence like a spell. Only the howl of breeze was heard, blowing the royal flags and banners and his rich purple mantle behind him.

This is it.

Seven days after the receptions, he had had enough of running away. He had been, in a way unknown to himself and the others, dodging the questions to the best of his ability. He was not the one to be blamed really. With all enough problems to occupy his mind, he had been expecting good news from Kargs that he will have a strong ally to help him. It will ease his heart to think that albeit the impending threat of the dragons, his people will be able to live in peace, at least, without the harm from the other country. Yet, unfortunately, he honestly didn't expect this to come along. And, he was then, much to his dismay, being reduced to a man with utter confusion. He knew he couldn't make up his mind without something to lose. Therefore, he chose to run away, dodged the questions, changed the subject, thought of something else of more importance, locked himself in the study, you name it. Ever since that day, and even until now, no one had heard, no one could really anticipate what his decisions might be regarding the princess of Kargs, no, not even himself.

Really, he was tired of it.

Stealing a glimpse towards the Ladyship in red – not that it could help him to clear his mind – receiving nothing but a faceless presence, King Lebannen looked back to his people and the noble people of Kargs before him.

The moment of truth.

He knew he could never run away from this, no, not anymore.

This was the time… the time to give his ultimate answer to King Thol's daring question.

"Marry my daughter, you squirt!"

Arren opened his mouth and all head looked up with all attention they could give. Mother silenced their children as well as husbands hushed their nagging wives. Guards clasped their weapons as how the courtiers hold their tongue. Up on the royal platform Lords swallowed their sighs while Nobles bit their lips. Indeed, the soft, graceful yet firm voice of their king was something no one could afford to miss, no, not right then.

"Noble people of Kargs, tell thy Lordship that Havnor shall gladly have her. And that the Ladyship will be but one of the pillars of this kingdom, and that she will be honoured, worshipped, protected and loved like any other princess in Havnor, and she will be thus, the soul of Havnor itself, for Havnor is now her home, her family, her fortress. And I swore by my name, and my lineage, that the Ring of Peace shall be in her arms and bare the name, the Princess of Peace. Never will she be without this land and there will be no Havnor, for sure, without her."

That was the answer and the crowds below cheered rising a hairsplitting vibrations to the royal platform above. The smiles of the ambassadors lightened up and some maids in red at the back give themselves a few blissful hugs. A sign of a job well-done.

"Thus, peace shall be sealed between these two lands, of Havnor and Kargs!" The representative announced, but that was barely heard as the horns were blown, and both the people of Havnor and Kargs cheered even not hearing the very word. Arren found himself smiling too, to the sight of his people cheering. Well, he was a king, and it was his job to keep them well and happy at all time. To see them extremely overjoyed like this, almost, he felt like he had done a good thing, well, almost! My people, I will protect ye no matter what, even if I'll be forced to fight a war, with only my own sword and on a lonesome steed, even if I know there will be no hope for me, even if I shalt die. Truly, none will know how much effort was hidden behind the king's simple smile.

In his mind, reflecting on what was said, he couldn't possibly understand what he decided to do with the faceless princess as he made the silent mental checklist. In truth, the words were out before he could really plan them. And worse, he had spoken like he was dreaming. Something was missing in his answer.

Will he accept the princess? Yes. Will he let her live here, in Havnor? Yes. Will he give her Tenar's ring and named her the Princess of Peace? Yes. Then again, will he really take the princess as his wife…?

Yet, amidst the bellowing horns and the cheers no one seemed to care about it at that very moment. Or worse still, they might have jumped to the very conclusion before his words were spew forth.

The ambassadors and the nobles of Kargs slowly started to descend the great stairs, and Arren stayed rooted where he was watching them leave. He knew their ship was ready at the port and there'll be no hindrance as they headed homeward. Oh, indeed, how relief he was! It would be bad for them to know that he still had no idea of what to do. The fact that everybody was jumping to conclusion had pathetically saved him.

As they were leaving, Arren saw the red princess descended as well. She reached out to one of the old maid, ever so gently, as if to stop her from leaving. The old maid turned to her, surprisingly with tearful eyes. She kissed the concealed forehead then and hastily moved away, turning away, like it was wrong to even touch or sat eyes on her. The red princess stopped mid-step, looking rather longingly towards her, hands still wishfully reaching out to her, yet she did not turned back. At that time, Arren believed something had really snapped at that time, like a long red thread snipped by a scissors, and Arren's heart was clutched with both sadness and pity. If only he could tell the old maid to stay, yet the Kargs had made it clear. Not even a single escort was allowed to be left behind. That draconian Thol, she will be alone here…

Her small unreachable hands quivered slightly and she quickly pulled it closed to her heart. Mirroring the old maid, not having a heart to watch them leave, she hastily turned away facing none other but the piercing gaze of King Lebannen who stood high on the royal platform. He caught her gasp in surprised, not knowing that she had an audience, and he too, not expecting to be caught staring felt a rush of breath escaped his mouth.

There was a magical moment of silence as they stood facing each other, and Arren swore that everything were completely lulled or simply disappeared. If only he could see her face, will he know exactly what she kept in her heart? If only the breeze will move the veil over her features, will he then, see the tears in her eyes…

One of the servants later approached her to take her back to the River House. With that she turned away from him and left.

At the same time, Arren's faithful servant came and approached him. There was still a dazed and confused look in his eyes from the previous event when he turned and that surprised Oak pretty much. Such look, confused, dazed or puzzled was foreign on his face. Yet, the old servant knew better than to ask him and passed it off as just being surprised of his silent appearance. Besides, he had an important message to him. The young king leaned towards the old servant as he whispered to him the news.

Then, with a louder gasp, Arren's eyes widened, and in a second bolted away into the castle leaving the cheery and joyful ceremony behind him.