Nanold: Thanks! I was wondering how the prophecy could affect Arvedui and his father on a personal level, also they rule over smaller realm than the Gondorians… so yeah, paranoid!
The way I picture those greenhouses, they're absolutely huge and they're warm all year long. Last semester, I had a class in botanical gardens and we had to walk across the greenhouses to reach the classroom, and it was always such a nice feeling, especially when it was cold outside. So for Fíriel, it must be comforting to be there.
Chapter 7 – A Good Man
T.A. 1940 - March
Artamir loved the greenhouses. When Fíriel had told him, through the palantír, that the Northerners had kept a wide variety of plants and trees in their halls, he had been genuinely curious about it. In the South, they had inherited the architectural skills of the Númenóreans and their great cities mirrored those of the lost island, or so it was said, yet they cared more for stones than for greenery. Thus, Artamir shared his sister's excitement upon the discovery of plants that had been brought from Númenor itself and it was with great interest that he visited the greenhouses.
"I dare hope you can take some of these saplings with you, when you go back to Gondor," said Fíriel, as they were strolling through the widest of the greenhouses. "I'd wager they will grow well enough if you plant them in the gardens of the Citadel."
"Probably," said Artamir, bending down to admire closely one of the young oaks. "I suppose the King won't mind if we bring back some of his seedlings?"
"He has little interest in the greenhouses, I doubt he would notice it were we to empty them," Fíriel answered, shrugging.
"At least, he granted you permission to do as you wish in here," said Artamir who thought it was essential his sister had her own 'territory' in these foreign halls.
"Arvedui is the one who gave me the keys. Yet I never asked for it, I suspect he… overheard me talking about my fondness for plants and trees."
Artamir gave this piece of information some thought and he said, "I would not know how you perceive him since you are to marry him, yet I reckon he is a good man."
Fíriel nodded, "He is."
"And his mother, she considers you like her daughter already. You will dwell far from us, however I am relieved you will be with them."
"I still wish I would be the one bringing him South after the wedding," admitted Fíriel.
"Me too…" muttered Artamir, taking his sister's hand in his. "Yet you shall come visit, shall you not?"
"Of course, I could certainly spend a winter or two down in Minas Anor," said Fíriel, grinning.
"Father will surely–"
But he was interrupted by a flock of young ladies who were coming their way, giggling, and they quickly managed to surround Artamir, leaving Fíriel behind.
"Oh, lord Artamir, what a pleasure to see you here!"
"So, you do love our plants and trees, lord Artamir?"
"Have you brought some exotic flowers from Gondor, perhaps?"
Some of the ladies had taken a liking to the greenhouses and they would often bring their needlework there and do as they always did, sew and chat happily. Fíriel was glad they did so, and now and then she joined them, although not as often as Meldis did, for her friend was a gifted embroiderer. It also seemed these ladies had expended their boundaries and had grown curious to know more about Bree, where they seldom went, even though it was not far – it was considered a small, uninteresting town. They also asked plenty of questions to Fíriel about Gondor and many had expressed the wish to travel there in the year to come.
But those who were now forming a circle around Artamir were those who still paid Fíriel little attention – and so did their husbands, if they were married.
"Your sister did a remarkable word, to think that only months ago, this place was almost in ruins…"
"I did get help. Without Beril and her friends, I could have never achieved so much in so little time, and not without my dear Meldis as well," Fíriel said and she did not nothing to conceal the exasperation in her voice.
"I am sure you could give her some useful advices, lord Artamir."
"Lord Artamir, what do you think of the Laurinquë? Are not its golden flowers absolutely exquisite?"
And once more, Fíriel's words weighed not much and there was nothing she could have said about the Laurinquë that they would have paid attention to. Hopefully, Artamir handled well these situations and, truth was, the presence of her brothers was most certainly what had earned Fíriel the respect of those of the ladies who actively avoided her up until recently. She noticed there was something about the masculine charm of Artamir and Faramir that convinced the most reluctant of them that there were some undeniable advantages in having a Gondorian princess in Fornost. Fíriel was not to be fooled, however, and she presumed this kindness the ladies displayed would not survive the departure of her dear brothers. By then, however, she would be wedded to Arvedui and she'd more important things to take care of than a few disgruntled ones.
Surprisingly, Artamir got along well with King Araphant. The Gondorian prince was wise and he had come prepared, ready to reassure the King of Arthedain about his intentions and those of his father. It would have been hard to tell whether Artamir's smooth manners really worked or not, yet King Araphant seemed to have put aside his fears of invasion and his hatred towards all things he deemed a threat - he was still moody, but it was nothing Artamir could easily overlook.
However, Faramir was not as prudent as his elder brother, nor was he as shy as his younger sister, and he had not forgotten some of the snide remarks King Araphant had made during the negotiations that had lead to the alliance. Thus, Artamir and Fíriel kept an eye on him, encouraging him to spend more time with Arvedui than with the King, and the princes were oft seen together, walking along the high walls of Fornost.
Arvedui appreciated Faramir's frankness and he was not unhappy the Gondorian prince shared so freely his point of view on the alliance and the wars both their realms were facing. After all, Arvedui really wanted to re-establish cordial relations between the North and the South and for that, he needed to know how the alliance was truly perceived in Gondor. Faramir complied readily, yet he also did not hesitate to tackle another side of the agreements sealed between their kingdoms. He wanted to be sure Arvedui understood how much it meant for the Gondorian royal family to have let go their daughter.
"She is the youngest and the only girl…" said Faramir, as they were strolling outside Fornost, mere days before the betrothal. "None of us was truly enthusiastic when she agreed to wed you, yet she was determined to play her part in this alliance and never did she seem to hesitate. Thus, she went away…"
"Could she have refused…?" asked Arvedui. He had been wondering to what extent Fíriel had been willing to come to Arthedain, for he had not liked much the idea that she would have been compelled to wed him.
"Our father would not have forced her to marry against her will, especially if it meant she had to dwell in the North for the rest of her life," Faramir explained and he appreciated that he could be so honest with the prince. "It is nothing against you, Arvedui, yet for the people of Gondor, your realm seems… far."
"I was not aware of this, to be honest, I had assumed she had been ordered to come here," Arvedui said and he dared not admit that at first, he had not given this many thoughts.
"I'm hardly surprised Fíriel has not mentioned she was given a choice, it would have made a poor impression on your father, would have it not?" And there were already too many things King Araphant seemed to dislike about his new Gondorians allies as it was – good thing that Artamir was a skilled diplomat.
"Indeed," Arvedui answered, nodding. "I have no siblings myself, I never had to worry about a sister."
"It was displeasing to send her away, yet the palantíri helped closing the gap between us. I should thank you for that, I know it was your doing."
"You seemed be a tight-knitted family, I do admire this," said Arvedui who was sometimes overwhelmed by a bittersweet feeling whenever the three siblings were together, laughing and playing – he was envious, like he had been when Fíriel had been using the palantír.
"We are lucky, I suppose. We were raised by two loving parents and…" Faramir's voice trailed away, as he saw a flash of sadness in Arvedui's grey eyes. He had had no intention to brag, yet he reckoned he could've been more careful – by the look of it, the royal family of Arthedain was quite different from Gondor's.
"My mother wanted to have many children, she wished for a house full of little ones running around," declared Arvedui, after a long silence, "but after my birth, after the prophecy, my father deemed one son would be enough of a burden for him to bear."
"Well… soon you will have a wife, and you shall also gain two brothers," muttered Faramir.
"I will be honored to become your brother-in-law," said Arvedui, smiling.
Since Artamir and Faramir's arrival in Arthedain, Arvedui had come to think this alliance would not only benefit his kingdom, but himself as well, on a personal level. And he had also started to reconsider his opinion of Fíriel whom he had judged too harshly, believing her to be weaker than she really was. Yet she was so happy to be with her brothers, she seemed to have become a different person, more radiant than ever – he had caught himself staring at her more than once.
Arvedui was not romantic, or at least he was not anymore. In his younger days, he had read much poetry and some his favorite lays had given him an idealized image of love. Oft he had walked in forests, naively hoping he would stumble upon a mysterious damsel in distress who would happen to be the fairest maiden he had ever set eyes on. Yet he had grown older, and had never met any young girl in the woods, and he had forgotten about his innocent daydreams. And he was about to be wedded to someone he had not chosen – not that it was completely unexpected, considering he was a prince.
He would have been unable to tell if he would have even noticed Fíriel, provided they had met in different circumstances. She was comely, yet nothing out of the ordinary, and since she barely spoke in front of strangers, he wondered what would have made his attention turn on her. Lately however, he found he was glad they had slowly gotten to know each other, glad she no longer treated him like a stranger. And he was glad for himself too, for he did love to spend time in her company and in the company of her brothers.
As it happened, the prospect of Fíriel becoming his wife had become pleasant.
"How do you feel, princess?" Meldis inquired, inspecting the neat braids the handmaid had just finished tying on Fíriel's head.
The amount of work put in the betrothal's preparations impressed the young girl and although she had always been satisfied with her rather humble lifestyle, she could not help but to be fascinated by the rich garbs Fíriel had pulled out of the chests her brothers had brought with them from Gondor.
"Fine, I suppose," Fíriel replied and she wondered herself why she was not nervous yet.
"Today is an important day."
"For Arthedain and Gondor, indeed," said Fíriel, adjusting a brooch on her dress – it represented the White Tree, whose silver leaves and white blossoms she dreamed of frequently.
"For you too, there will be a ring on your hand tonight."
However, Meldis could hardly believe the princess cared about the ring itself, for she possessed already a considerable number of jewels. The North had kept its most precious heirlooms, inherited from Elendil himself, but aside from that, most of the noble families had squandered their goods after the partition of Arnor. Thus, Númenórean jewelry was far from being a common sight, even in the King's halls.
"Are you teasing me, Meldis? I was under the impression that you were the only in these halls who had remained unaffected by this wedding."
"Well, I am your friend, princess, and while I might not be as fond of celebrations as some ladies of our acquaintance, I am delighted Arvedui will become your husband."
"Are you?"
"Perhaps Arvedui is not as dashing as your brothers, yet what matters most is that he is a good man."
"Artamir said so too..."
Yet Fíriel had realized by herself the prince was a good man. She could have listed everything he had done for her since she had arrived in Arthedain: giving her the keys of the greenhouses, allowing her to use the palantír, among others – she even suspected it was not pure luck that had brought Meldis her way. Even though he proceeded not like his mother, never once displaying openly his intentions, he had done much for her and she could not remain insensitive to that.
"It is not enough?" asked Meldis, interrupting Fíriel's musing.
"What?"
"Were you expecting… a spark?" Meldis had little experience of all things related to love but, like Fíriel, she had read many books and there always seemed to be a spark when lovers met.
"No, I was not," blurted the princess and she blushed. She felt silly for it happened often lately, and almost always in the presence of Arvedui.
"Alright… well, you are ready, are you not?"
"I am."
The handmaids had entwined flowers in Fíriel's braids and as for the rest, the Gondorian garments and jewelry would be quite enough to mesmerized the lords and ladies – those of the North, at least.
Her brothers, the Queen and the King were already seated, thus it was Arvedui who was waiting for her, by the doors of the Main Hall – the betrotheds would be the last to enter it. The was a hustle around him, as guests and servants busied themselves, but he looked calm and he smiled when he saw her. Clad in black and silver, he was majestic and perhaps he was a little dashing, or so she thought.
"How fair you are tonight, Fíriel," he said, taking her hand in his and putting a kiss on it.
It was a rather standard compliment, yet she dearly hoped he meant it.
"You are quite elegant yourself," Fíriel told him, wishing she would not be flustered as the words came out of her mouth.
"Thank you," Arvedui said, bowing, and he extended his arm, so she could take it. "Shall we go inside?"
"Yes."
The Queen had done miracles in the Main Hall, where hundreds and hundreds of candles had been lighted, like so many small stars. Magnificent tapestries hang on the walls, weaved by generations of women, and their silver and golden threads twinkled softly. Fíriel immediately loved this decor and her mood soared when she walked along the table where all the Gondorians were seated. They all were familiar faces, all clad in white and silver, and she knew that, whatever would happen, they were on her side. And when she and Arvedui finally reached the dais, Fíriel happily took place next to Artamir and Faramir.
Becoming betrothed did not require much effort on Fíriel's part, for all she had to do was to sit, eat what she was served, and nod and smile when spoken to by noble folks. It was not a formal ceremony, for no vows had to be pronounced and there would be no kiss as well. Nonetheless, it was an important moment for both parties involved, for this merrymaking was a good occasion for Arthedain and Gondor to display their wealth and power and gifts of all sorts piled up on large table, right under the dais. Considering this, and the seize of both delegation, it looked more like a contest of some sort was being held, and not a celebration of friendship and love. Hopefully, this competition was circumcised to gifts and garbs and aside from showing off a few jewels, the guests remained amiable with one another – exquisite food and wine did much to maintain a merry mood throughout the evening.
The silver rings were produced by King Araphant after desert had been served and, before offering them to the two betrotheds, he took a few minutes to discourse on the importance love, loyalty and new starts. He was quite convincing, glancing from time to time at his son and his wife, and he was gracious when he gave Arvedui and Fíriel their ring, yet there was still a condescending overtone to his words. It seemed the King was not the only one who to lecture the prince and the princess about matrimonial life that evening, for a dozen of lords and ladies had prepared speeches for the occasion, vying for the attention of the royal families.
When at long last they all had their turn, another round of wine was served and music was heard again, for it was time to dance – and dozens of guests jumped from their chairs, happy to be done with boring discourses. And of course, Arvedui and Fíriel were expected to take in the rejoicings, thus they got up to go dancing, hand in hand.
"I hope the dinner did not feel too cumbersome, the lords and ladies wanted to impress your brothers," Arvedui said lowly, in her ear, as he wrapped an arm around her waist.
"No, it was entertaining enough to listen to their speeches," Fíriel assured him who was glad they were dancing together – what a change, compared to that little feast that had been thrown in her honor, in Fall.
Thinking about this betrothal feast, she had not built any romantic hopes. She had merely wished she would not look too clumsy and also that King Araphant would not pass a remark to her brothers or to any Gondorian lord. And since everything seemed to be fine – Artamir was having some serious conservation with the chamberlain Cirion and Faramir was twirling merrily with a few lovely maidens –, Fíriel allowed herself to relax and enjoy the celebration, almost as if she was a spectator herself.
"This is all very formal, tedious even."
"It is the alliance of two kingdoms that is being celebrated, we'd almost forget it is also a betrothal," Fíriel whispered and she did not feel bitter about it, on the contrary, she was amused.
Arvedui was gazing at her and, although he was not smiling, there was something very soft about his expression.
"Worry not, I have not forgotten it is you I will wed, and not the realm of Gondor."
For a moment, Fíriel's hand tightened around Arvedui's arm.
"I shall make sure I call you Arvedui and not Arthedain, then," she said, forcing herself to chuckle.
There was a strange turmoil stirring within her chest and, unlike that first time she had danced with the prince, she felt at ease being so close to him. She wished they would stay like this all night, yet too soon her brothers came to claim their right to dance with, and after them many Gondorians and Northerners. Arvedui too had become popular, as if the silver ring on his finger attracted maidens, and that evening there was not a single lady to say he looked stern or gruff.
The feast lasted for hours, to everyone's delight, and such a success was seen as a good omen for the newly sealed alliance.
Later that night, when the celebration was over and when all candles had been blown, Fíriel laid in her bed, not quite ready to sleep. She had spent an excellent evening and even the occasional smirks she had seen on King Araphant's face had not affected her good mood. After all, barely a few weeks ago, how could have she imagined her betrothal would truly be a joyful event? However, she was not naïve, she knew it would not be so simple and that good wine and honey cakes would not always be there to smooth the relations between Arthedain and Gondor.
At the very least, it did not feel like a burden anymore to interact with Arvedui and this was a great improvement. As much as the Queen and Meldis had helped her feel welcomed in Fornost, it was still essential she felt comfortable around her future husband, for they were to share many things… and, these days, just thinking about it made her flush – what an odd sensation it was, sweet and unnerving at the same time.
Fíriel was lost in daydreams about the wedding when someone knocked at the door. It was one of her handmaid, who whispered sleepily, "It is the prince, my Lady. He says he wants to see you… Should I tell him to wait in the parlor?"
"The prince? Yes… Yes, I shall be there in a moment," said Fíriel, jumping down her bed. She hastily grabbed something to cover herself and hurried out of her room and into the parlor, where Arvedui stood awkwardly.
"What urgent matter brings you here, Arvedui?" she inquired, still slightly confused – he surely had not come in her chambers just to bid her good night.
The princess had quickly put on a wrinkled dressing gown and her hair was a mess, yet Arvedui found her more endearing like this than in the rich dresses she had worn during the merrymaking. However, he kept this thought to himself, for it would not be proper to compliment a lady on her sleep marks after having showed up unexpectedly in her chambers in the middle of the night.
"Please forgive me for intruding in your rooms so late, but I… I have a gift for you and it seemed wiser to give it to you in private." And truth be told, Arvedui had not planned this visit thoroughly, it was more of a spur of the moment idea – that was very unlike him to be impulsive and he suspected the delicious Gondorian wine he had been drinking all evening had something to do with it.
"Oh, thank you," said Fíriel, caught unaware. She blinked several times, noticing he was holding a small packet wrapped in a piece of fabric and held together by twine. "But I… I'm afraid I haven't got anything for you though…"
"It is no fancy present, princess," Arvedui warned her, handing his gift.
"Still, I…" whispered Fíriel, carefully untying the twine. "What is…Papers…?"
It was a pile of yellowish parchments, and some were torn, and there was a lot of dust too – she sneezed. The prince had been quite right to say it was nothing fancy and Fíriel could not help but feel a bit disappointed. There was no need to wake her up for this…
"Letters, treatises, maps, to be precise. There should be enough in here for you to understand the current situation in the North, between Arthedain, Cardolan and Rhudaur," Arvedui explained and although he managed to look as stoic as usual, he thought Fíriel's expression was very entertaining to look at.
"But, why…?"
"Angmar is ever a threat, Gondor is our new ally, yet Cardolan and Rhudaur are our immediate neighbours. While the lords of Rhudaur seem impress that I am to marry a princess of Gondor, those of Cardolan are more reluctant to come and pay their homage to you."
Fíriel nodded slowly. She had not forgotten Arvedui had almost wedded a maiden from Cardolan and it only seemed logic that the people of Cardolan would not approve the change of plans the alliance had caused.
"Were you not betrothed to one of their daughters?" she inquired, eyeing him – she did feel a tinge of jealousy and it was not something she was proud of, really.
"Almost," Arvedui answered shortly.
"Yet I came with a bigger dowry, did I not?" said Fíriel and this notion was so absurd, it made her smile.
"Indeed… and my father has a poor opinion of these two realms and their rulers."
"Oh, I could have guessed it. At least I can trace my ancestry back to Anárion, it does give me a great advantage on your previous suitor."
And they both chuckled, although they would have been unable to tell what had caused such gaiety. Perhaps they simply were relieved they could discuss so openly with each other. Perhaps they had started to understand they actually were a good match.
"Well, thank you Arvedui," said Fíriel. "I shall do my best to study these papers."
"It's a pleasure, princess," he said and as she yawned, he added, "now I should let you rest… Good night, Fíriel."
"Good night to you too, Arvedui."
Arvedui had opened the door, yet he turned around right before stepping out of the parlor and his hand lingered on the doorknob.
"Ah, and also… I offered your brothers to go on a small trip to Annúminas and I thought you might wish to join us. We should depart in a few days and we shall be away from Fornost for some time."
"Really? Of course, I would gladly join you!" said Fíriel, beaming.
"Good, I look forward to it."
"So do I."
And that night, Fíriel could barely get any sleep. There was too much on her mind and, for once, it was mostly happy thoughts would kept her awake.
