As promised, chapter four! I could go into great detail as to why it took nearly five months to get around to it, but that would be boring and full of deceased rodents and intravenous solutions.
And so, without further delay I present to you…this chapter. It's a tad short.
The journey to Alhír proved to be tiring as dusk approached on the first eve. The path required travel through Haradwaith, the abandoned Haradrim region in Southern Gondor. The land had become barren and debatable after the war of the ring, though just before the southernmost border was the grand city in the making.
In the setting sun could be spotted a small encampment, a nearly roaring fire staving off the coming darkness. The horses whinnied as the golden-haired elf tended to them, assuring each hoof was secure and each mane was clean. Aragorn admired the care his friend offered the beasts as he observed his actions, though his attention was drawn away by a loud splintering sound just to his left.
Lord Kain smiled as he cracked into a second walnut, extending it to the King. His eyes revealed mirth at having startled the man.
"Have your travels brought you to these lands before this night?" he inquired absently, snapping another walnut open. Aragorn's eyes lingered to the treat as he nibbled on his own.
"They have not. It was feared that it would become contested after the war, though with your city flourishing as it is, I believe those fears may be put to rest." More snapping of shells and soft chewing. Lord Kain nodded, popping the morsel into his mouth.
"Indeed, we wish only to offer sanctuary and culture, and to perhaps bring further peace to your kingdom." Aragorn clasped the man's shoulder in a friendly manner, chuckling.
"I have no doubts that you shall."
The two shared in a comfortable silence for a time, admiring the camp as it came together. By the fire, Faramir tended to what looked to be a stew, the scent of which had the men drooling. Calahn could be spotted attending to his own business as he went about sharpening his prized blades. A calm evening was falling, one that harbored a bright morrow.
Soon the entire caravan was surrounding the fire, the warmth brightening fatigued faces. A meal of stew and bread and wine was shared, one which the fiery-haired soldier took much pride in. Calahn graced the men with the sweet sounds of his lute, a melody familiar to the men of Gondor. Legolas began to sing to the chords, his soft voice carrying on the wind.
Before long the entirety of the camp was joining in, and a merry time was had.
Though such merriment could not extend to the reaches of the White City, for deep within its walls lay still the form of a maiden, arms bound and hair amiss with caked remnants of blood. Her fair skin was tinged a sickly hue, and her lips trembled in her troubled state.
The stone about her was cold, her only source of light a dying candle set in the far corner.
"They will be scouring the streets for you by now, M'lady." An eerily frigid voice penetrated the silence as a calloused hand drifted along the queen's jaw. No response was made, for what drugs had been administered were still well in effect.
"Such a pity that such beauty could be neglected so. A woman of your stature demands respect, deserves love. I am but doing you a favor." He set a hand over her belly, the infant writhing about beneath his touch.
"The poor child."
The candle faded as he departed from his asylum, drifting into the city life above as just another civilian.
The streets were lined with royal guards, the search for the queen heated and unending. The palace was in upheaval, torn apart twice over. Lady Eowyn paced impatiently in the grand foyer, tears lacing her eyes.
"She was taken from her own chambers while I sat idly by with a pot of tea. Tea!" Her tone was one of disgust. Delorah was trying in vain to calm the woman, following her every step and offering perhaps some rest or a bath.
"And how could her captor have slipped unnoticed by the guards? Have they slackened since the war?" She was growing furious. The small woman huffed and grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to sit.
"There be no sense in getting sick by it. Take heart in the hope that she'll be returned safely." Before Eowyn could interject, she was off to her duties. She demanded every inch of marble be spotless, if only to distract herself from the situation at hand.
The blonde maiden sighed with great frustration, though remained sitting. She allowed her head to rest along the wall, gaze drifting out to the bustle of the levels below. Civilians were taking to hiding in their homes, believing the city to be unsafe. Vendors were closing their stalls as the guards scared away business.
And amongst the crowds he walked, gait calm and casual. He bore a feathered hat, one crafted of fine leather. His cloak was of pristine wool, dyed a savory brown. Clutched in his hand was a letter, the scarlet seal smudged faintly by the warmth of his flesh.
If he were to meet the eyes of a guard he would nod respectively, tipping his hat some. He looked no more suspicious than any other face revealed along the cobblestone path, and so he continued along his way with a cheerful demeanor.
The day continued on, the sun reaching its peak in the sky. There was not a cloud to be seen from the hills of Ithilien to the plains of Rohan. And so the king, unknowing of his queen's dilemma, continued on to the city of Alhír.
By sunset the gates came into view, braziers blazing brightly against the orange and red sky. Tapestries of burgundy and gold hung from the sandstone pillars, and a crowd had arrived to welcome Lord Kain and his companions.
Aragorn waved as the horses continued forward to the center of the city, passing by homes that were nearly finished and some that were only just being founded. Though he soon set his eyes upon what looked to be a temple before him, intricately built and decorated with the city's colors.
"Welcome, Lord Aragorn, to Alhír." Kain's voice bellowed happily as he dismounted his steed, dusting his tunic with the back of his hand. Aragorn followed suit, as did his companions.
"A sight to behold, my friend. Your city is grand and its people admirable. I am overwhelmed." He laughed heartily as they entered the temple, which was clearly undergoing vast amounts of work once inside.
"You spoke of a means to bring water to your people?" The elf's voice piped up curiously.
"Yes, through caverns beneath the city angled just right. A brilliant method devised by my colleague, Jamhir. You will meet him during the negotiations." This satisfied the elf, as he fell silent once more.
"We have prepared quarters for your arrival, which you may retire to shortly. First there is much to discuss."
They entered the dining hall eagerly, just as a letter was set with trembling hands within the king's study, a rose resting upon it.
'My darling, I have freed you of your delusions and fantasies in hopes that you might finally come to me. I fear you may not have received my last letter due to circumstance, but it is of no matter. I count the minutes to your return, and have a wonderful surprise planned for you.
There is still much to be done, but fret not, for we will lay in each others company before the season's end.
It is not the queen that makes the king.'
As I said, a bit short, but I do hope it was enjoyable. The next installment will not be taking five months to come out, more like a week, and should be longer.
Reviews are much appreciated! (Feed me.)