AN: Hello, everyone!
This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)
As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.
It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.
Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!
So my exam today was a disaster, but results only come tomorrow, so I have plenty of time to update *evil smile*. This chapter features Aragorn and please note that he is a busy and often troubled King here who has a whole realm to take care of. Somehow my vision of Aragorn as King is somewhat Elrondish. Oh my that sentence... I'll sleep more than three hours tonight.
A CHAT WITH THE KING
Coming face to face with Lord Barahin only four hours after getting laid by his friend was the most uncomfortable and most stupid thing Gilraen had ever gone through.
After they were through the pleasantries they sat down along the large longtable, already set gorgeously, awaiting the royal guests in the dining hall of Florian's parents' home. Lord Malberen had the place of honor on his father's right and her mother asked Lady Doriel to sit with her. Lord Barahin, Eldarion and Florian himself were seated near Lord Marlberen, while on the other side of the great table Lady Ëlyel was dutifully making friends with Sybille. Brianneth soon sank into a deep conversation with Florian's sister and younger brother. Nearby Aryana tried to teach rock-paper-scissors to little Anarys who was the sweetest child Gilraen had ever seen.
Eventually the feast even turned out to be quite enjoyable and the dishes were perfectly seasoned and marvelously delicious. Gilraen told that to Lady Doriel who was overwhelmed with joy by the comment, especially because she couldn't fail to notice that the queen was barely picking at her food. Despite her mother claimed everything was tasty, she couldn't restrain herself from commenting how heavy she still found Gondorian cuisine.
The best thing about the night though, was that nobody was paying Gilraen any mind, so she could listen to or join any conversation she liked without the hazard of being harassed for having no suitor and being grim. She played for a while with the little one - Anarys did have the mark of a once broken bone on her right index finger. She watched how Brianneth amazed and seduced Florian's brother – clearly their mother's daughter and Sybille's sister. Aryana was sulking, because all the company she had was Florian's sister who was closer to Brianneth in both age and personality than to herself. The men were talking politics, and – best thing about the evening – Sybille was having the time of her life in the circle of their mother, Lady Doriel and Lady Ëlyel.
After the long feast Gilraen had serious difficulties getting up in the morning and setting off with Sybille to attend their music lesson. Eldarion caught up to accompany them down the sixth level and shared his favorite moments of the feast, namely the roast boar, his conversation about Harad with their father and Lord Malberen, his conversation about jousting with Lord Barahin and Florian, and Lord Malberen's wine. Sybille listed every single moment of the night as her favorites and confided that Florian had a cousin who was their age and said to be good-looking.
"Pray spare me Sybille, I'm too sleepy to protest…" Gilraen cut her across yawning. It was a bad idea. The comment launched a heated argument about her behavior and attitude and poor social skills and assumed envy for Sybille. The price she had to pay for yesterday's flawless night. In the end – as always – Eldarion and Sybille won and Gilraen admitted every accusation to see the end of the conversation as quick as possible.
"… so start acting like the young and pretty princess you are, otherwise you'll grow old lonely and wretched. And stop flying at Sybille's throat every time she tries to help you, because she is right. I must go, good day to you dear sisters" Eldarion finished his conclusion and waved them goodbye. Sybille decided the world – in this case, as in most cases, herself – was set to rights and gave a rest to the topic moving on to her plans for the afternoon as they walked up to the music room in the Academy.
Three hours and two more lessons later Gilraen walked down to the stables clutching the two inches thick book from the library she was supposed to read for her History lesson tomorrow.
"Do you find Gondorian cuisine heavy?" Torundir asked instead of a greeting.
"I knew you would know everything of last night by the time I got here" she replied unsurprised. "You always do. And in that case you must also know I even told Lady Doriel how I loved the food."
"I didn't. Even Barahin can't memorize everything, it seems." He said with a cheerful jerk of the head.
"How did he like the feast?" Gilraen put down her book.
"He said it was fine and your sister was charming, though he can't imagine how his brother can endure all that chatter. Mostly he went on about how interesting it was to see what sort of persons the royal children are."
"And on how rude it was of the queen to dislike the food." Gilraen said with a tiny curl of her lips. When she saw Torundir frown, she went on. "I agree with him. She should stop saying that all the time."
"Ah. So, you don't find Gondorian cuisine heavy? Or you just know better than to say so?"
"I am Gondorian, I lived all my life in Gondor, I grew up on its cuisine. Are we riding out?"
"Why are you so moody?" he asked twinkling at her.
"I'm sorry…" Gilraen gave a wry smile. "I just had a rough morning."
"Nothing better to forget that than a good ride, and on horseback this time" he mounted his horse winking and Gilraen followed his example. "Off we go then, milady."
They trotted through the tunnel of the great rock slicing the White City into two and headed down the spiraling main street toward the first level and the city gate. Once they were out Torundir slowed back into a light walk and turned to her with a smile.
"How are you, my sweet? Apart from the rough morning" he added with a grin and Gilraen couldn't help but smile at his words.
"Fine. The feast was nice. Lord Barahin's little girl is such a sweet child."
"Aye, she is. Little 'Narys. Even Thunder likes her." He patted the black stallion on his neck.
"Lady Ëlyel let her near your horse?" Gilraen laughed incredulously.
"Sure, she was mounted on him for a circle in the yard."
"She has a potential! She is mounted on Thunder and a pony bites her. Life has its japes."
"Aye. You could wed any highest born lad and you end up in my bed. Life does have its japes and I'm more than thankful for it." Torundir gave her a grin. "All right, sweetling, let's see to it that you learn something today, after all the time we spent… otherwise occupied. Gallop a circle around me. Just patiently, calmly. No hurry. Think what you must do and do it."
She did. It went almost as it should have.
"Gilraen" he started when she reined up beside him and chuckled before he went on. "Certain things are meant to be inserted deep in certain places. Such rule does not apply for your feet and the stirrups."
Gilraen was laughing so hard at the absurd image she felt as though she was going to fall off her mare. "Oh my… Torundir…" she choked on the words.
"What I'm saying is" he chuckled shaking his head. "you must get your feet out of the thrice damned stirrups, or else you'll lose control over that bloody horse, understood?"
"Yes…" she chuckled one last time. "I understood."
"Good." He nodded with a smirk. "Another circle then."
Ten circles later Torundir was finally satisfied with her gallop and drew up to dismount.
"You'll gallop Thunder now."
"You can't be serious. Must I?" Gilraen gaped at him.
"You must. He has a temper, but I'm telling you how to handle him."
"You do this to all your learners at some point or am I the only one to deserve that?" Gilraen stared at the black beast in disbelief.
"I could fill books with the things I do to you but not to my other learners" he said and Gilraen rolled her eyes at him shaking her head. "You must learn how to ride any horse, otherwise what's the point? And that includes ones with an ugly temper."
Gilraen dismounted and walked up to the stallion who eyed her in a very suspicious and hostile way all the while. She reached out a hand and gently touched the horse's neck greeting him in a soothing tone. Torundir gave her the reins as he watched the scene half taut, half curious. When she took it, Thunder yanked his head backward in protest. Gilraen took a step backward while Torundir soothed his horse, the reins still in her hand.
"Come on" he told her. "Come on." He repeated when he saw her hesitation. "He will behave while I'm here. Or are you afraid?"
That was unfair. Thunder was even larger than her father's horse, with a worse temper than any horse she had seen. He was something to be afraid to mount. But Torundir despised this kind of weakness; when there was no real reason for it, but the lack of determination and self confidence. And Gilraen was sure he knew full well she'd know that too. And she was not going to admit to cowardice in front of him. So she stepped to the stallion without answering him and climbed up into the saddle. Literally climbed up, mounting Thunder properly would have taken those extra eight inches Torundir had in height and she didn't.
"You see, he's innocent as a kitten" he smirked and patted the horse on his shoulder-blades. "Fine, sweetest. It's going to be bloody easy, don't worry. Be very careful with your heels, he's not the kind that needs nudging once in gallop. But also, headstrong as a bull, he is, so with the reins, don't be careful. If he won't stop, tear off his head, if he yanks it, tear off his head, if he won't turn, tear off his head. Then you can also give him heels, but carefully. And a lot goes for balance. If you do it right, he'll know your thoughts by the way you keep balance and there will be no need for reins or heels. That's it for now, walk a little."
Thunder was even reluctant to take a step and when he finally did he walked where he wanted giving no heed to Gilraen whatsoever.
"Be hard on him, tear off his head, I told you. Tear his mouth bloody if that's what it takes, just make him obey."
It took half an hour to make Thunder obey her at least in walk and trot. When it came to spur him into a gallop though, he yanked at the reins, kicked the ground in frustration and trotted back to Torundir with an indignant glare.
"Slip forward in that saddle, sweetling." He said and Gilraen did so, just a heartbeat before he swung himself up behind her. "Mmm, I should even be grateful to this thrice damned beast" he murmured into her neck as he drew an arm around her and took over the reins. With that he jammed his heels into Thunder who neighed in surprise and broke into a light gallop at once.
"That's incredible!" Gilraen shook her head as Torundir slowed the stallion back.
"You now." He said giving her the reins. And even more incredibly this time Thunder obeyed her as well. "The bloody bastard won't dare object now…" Torundir shook his head and took back the reins urging the horse into a faster pace.
Thunder's gallop was magnificent. Having Torundir behind her with his arms around her body, his thighs against her hips probably improved the experience even further, but the stallion had a wonderfully tranquil and yet dynamic drift.
"Now don't tell me it wasn't worth it, huh?"
"Oh, it was worth it. But mostly because of this." Gilraen laughed and nuzzled her head against his chest while his arm tightened around her waist.
"I have a bad influence on you" Torundir smirked as he drew up beside Gilraen's perplexed mare waiting for their return. Torundir dismounted and lifted Gilraen from the saddle not troubling to put her down, but seating her straight on top of her own horse while she giggled at the process.
"You did well" he smiled up giving her thigh a soft pat and turned to mount his black beast. "Back to the city now, sweet princess, fast if possible, I have lessons to hold."
And so they spurred ahead, Gilraen's golden locks and deep green skirts flapping in the wind as she kicked her horse to run faster and faster. Torundir turned his head to see if she was keeping up and gave her that typical knee weakening grin of his as he spurred Thunder further. They were flying soon. Wind tore at her gown, at her hair, at her face drawing tears into her eyes but never could it blow away her smile.
Gilraen's hair was a tangle by the time she was back in the palace almost running down the hallways leading to her bedchamber before she came upon Sybille or her mother with such a messy look. Instead, she came upon her father.
"Gilraen." The king of Gondor showed up in all grace clad in the finest deep red velvet attire.
"Father." Her heart skipped a beat, but her father's eyes were too kind to know about any of her on-goings.
"You look very … windblown today."
"I had this Hunting lesson and rode out." She explained quickly glimpsing the hint of disapproval beyond the mirth in her father's eyes. "And what brings you here, Father? Would you be looking for someone?"
"For you."
"For me?" Gilraen had no idea what to make of that. It was probably years, since her father last came looking for her alone, without her mother and nowhere near mealtime.
"Yes. May we speak?"
"Yes." She said utterly stunned. "Yes, of course. As you wish, Father." She went on remembering herself. The king offered her an arm which proved very uncomfortable to accept remembering who the last person was to hold her arm. Guilt washed over her like a heavy waterfall as they walked the corridor.
"Your mother asked me to speak with you." Her Father started. Yes, that explained everything. A part of her was relieved, the other pressured even further. "She worries. So do your sister and your brother." So it was Sybille and Eldarion's work… They went to their mother, who went to the dagger of betrayal stabbed her through the stomach. "They worry that you push away happiness from yourself." Oh she didn't. She tried to push it away for months, then fell into its arms and opened her legs to it. Guilt twisted her entrails again. "When you were born, your mother and I decided, in consideration of our own history, that you and your sisters would be given the freedom to choose a consort of your own liking. I did not arrange marriages for you, you have the chance to marry whoever you love, within rational confines of course." He looked at her.
"Yes, Father."
"Sybille chose Florian. He is a good young man of noble birth, worthy of your sister's hand, loved by her, your mother and myself. She's betrothed now. All the suitors trying to win her hand are coming over to you now. An even wider range of choice." Those words sunk a knife into her heart. Slowly, gracefully, painfully. Now Sybille was taken, she'd suffice for them too. Not before. "And yet, you remain cold and reluctant. Is there no-one perfect enough for a royal princess's taste?" So there it was. She was the one too conceited, not lowering to the imperfection of youths of lesser birth. How many times she listened to that in the past two years. "Florian proved perfect enough. I don't ask you to like everyone. All we ask of you is to be open and kind to suitors. You never know who might move your heart." Many tried but none did. One did who never tried. "Ask your sister's help, if you feel lost. Sometimes a third person can tell our feelings better than we ourselves." That twisted both the dagger and the knife already in her flesh. Ask Sybille to decide who she loved? Ask her to get her a husband? "Will you do that for us? All we want is to see you happy as well."
"I will" Gilraen formed the words without comprehending them.
"Good." The king smiled at her. "You will see that we were right. All you have to do is try harder." Try harder…the words echoed in her ear. We gave you freedom to love, all you have to do is try harder. Gilraen never noticed that they reached her chambers. "Think about what I said, my dear girl, will you?"
"Yes Father."
"And Gilraen" he turned back from taking his leave. "You will wish to be quick about finding your heart's love, for I can't keep telling Éomer and Faramir and all the rest of the more than worthy fathers having a son more than worthy of you that you're too young to be betrothed. I don't want to force anybody on you and I would rather you remained my little girl for yet a while, but you are a princess and things are expected of you."
"Yes Father." She did everything people expected of her. She tried so hard. It wasn't enough it seems. Nothing was enough. Nothing was good enough. Was it her fault? Probably. She felt her cheeks throbbing and burning with shame and humiliation. Blades twisted in her flesh painfully with every sentence her father uttered. "May I retire?"
"Yes. Thank you for listening to me. Tell your mother I spoke with you if she asks." That was all that mattered. Her mother will ask, she knew. And she'll tell. It was expected of her. "Smile now! And have a beautiful day, darling." That sent steel through her back.
"Thank you, Father. I wish you a beautiful day as well." Gilraen's lips formed the words as her father took his leave.
She entered the parlor she shared with her twin, the whole world a blur around her. A maid came up saying something. Princess Sybille was having a walk in the gardens with young Lord Florian. A hundred rusty nails stung her eyes. She was tired, she wouldn't join them, she'd rest. She never heard her own voice, but the serving girl bowed and headed for the door, so she must have responded... She walked into her bedchamber slowly and clumsy like a creeping shadow on the walls. Like the crawling shadow she felt like. Her hands found the handle bar and shut the heavy door. Stiffly she lowered herself onto the bed sending all the phantom steel deeper into her heart and belly and back. But instead of blood, thick drops of tears landed on the fine embroidery of her lace fringed satin cushions. She rested her head on one of them as the salty streams soaked her cheeks soundlessly. They almost felt like that cool breeze licking at her face on the back of Thunder not an hour past.
So how does it feel when you are so happy and the next moment somebody comes along and smashes you joy and happiness - really shitty. Especially if this somebody is a family member. (Oh my goodness, I should get another coffee and never do three-hours-of-sleep again, I literally forgot writing...and talking... and sort of everything). Yeah... Chapter 6 - Relief is coming soon.
Thanks for reading and please tell me your opinions in a review or a PM! :)
