Author's Notes:Thanks, as always, to J and Marsha for checking over the chapter for me. Words in italics indicate the words are being spoken in Sindarin. Any translations will be at the end of the chapter, but I think most of them are fairly well known by this time. I do apologize for the lengthy delay in posting this and hope the final chapter will not take so long for me to write.
Chapter 9 – Conversations
Arwen's laugh rang out gaily in the garden as she embraced Elrohir. "Yes, Elrohir, I am indeed with child." She turned to Elladan who was watching her intently, his eyes sweeping up and down her body as if reassuring himself that she was in good health. Arwen paused briefly, taking his hand and squeezing it. "I am well, brother," she said before she embraced him.
"It…it is just something I did…did not expect, Arwen," Elladan said, stumbling a bit as he spoke, an unusual occurrence for him. Elrohir reached for her again, a smile lighting up his face as he wrapped his arms around her.
Aragorn watched the three of them with affection and amusement. The stunned amazement on the faces of his brothers was something he'd never thought to see there for any reason. But elf children were born so infrequently in the latter days of the Third Age that it had been many hundreds of years since they had known anyone who had borne a child. That it was their sister only added to their delight. Elrohir finally turned to him.
"Forgive me, muindor-nín," he said, smiling and reaching to embrace his younger brother once more. "I was so taken with Arwen that I forgot to congratulate you as well."
Aragorn simply smiled at Elrohir as he watched Elladan attempting to examine Arwen without actually touching her. Shaking her head and letting out a small sigh, Arwen finally took his hand and placed it gently on her stomach. Elladan stood stock still with his head cocked to one side as his hand lightly moved around her stomach. Elrohir left Aragorn's side, moving closer to Arwen and she took his hand and just held it.
"When will the child be born?" asked Elladan as he stepped back and Elrohir took his place.
Aragorn and Arwen exchanged swift glances and she gestured for him to speak. "We do not know, Elladan. If Arwen carries the child only nine months as do human women then that would be sometime in November. But I suspect it will be longer than that, though I do not believe it will be twelve months either."
"Somewhere between November and February then," said Elladan with a thoughtful look. He turned and looked at Elrohir. "Perhaps we shall have to find something to do here in the South for a time." Elrohir nodded, his gaze shifting to Aragorn when the man spoke.
"Of course you are welcome, but what about Adar? Will he not need you home?" Left unspoken was the thought that since Elrond's time in Middle-earth was short, perhaps Elladan and Elrohir should spend that time with him. A brief silence fell, broken only be the sounds of Frosty and Rudy as the two young cats chased each other through the bushes at the far end of the garden.
"I believe Adar would wish us to be with Arwen and you," Elrohir finally said. "As he cannot be here himself, I think he would be comforted to know that we are here."
"We can send him a message and ask him if he would like us to return," Elladan said, his eyes fixed on Arwen.
"You already know what his answer will be Elladan," Arwen said with a small laugh. "But you may include a letter with the one Estel and I will be sending. A messenger will be riding north soon after the wedding. We were planning on sending messages to share our joyous news with our family and friends in the North."
"Only a few people here know," said Aragorn, "and we will not announce it publicly until after Rebecca and Thomas return from their trip."
"Where are they going?"
"Why have you not announced it?"
The twins asked their questions at the same time.
"They are going to Dol Amroth after their wedding… you may remember that taking a trip is a custom from their time. We have not announced it because we do not want to take attention away from the wedding; we want it to be special for Rebecca and Thomas."
"Yes, of course,"said Elrohir, nodding. "Rebecca must be very… excited about the wedding." There were a few chuckles.
"We caught a glimpse of her down on a lower level and Haldir went to greet her," said Elladan.
"Haldir is here?" asked Aragorn, surprised. "Did anyone else come with you?"
"Rúmil and Orophin are waiting for us in the library," Elrohir informed him.
"Elladan! Elrohir! Why did you not tell us earlier?" Arwen scolded her older brothers. "We should not have kept them waiting this long." She turned and headed toward the library door.
"You only have yourself to blame, Arwen," Elrohir replied as he and his brothers followed her. "If we had not been so surprised upon seeing you then we would have told you sooner."
"Surely Estel must carry some of the blame," replied Arwen, glancing back over her shoulder. Her eyes sparkled with laughter as she looked at those following her. The three of them chuckled as she opened the library door.
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Rebecca smiled as the door opened revealing a sleepy looking Éowyn. The young woman was fully dressed and she returned Rebecca's smile with one of her own as she entered the hallway, quietly closing the door behind her. The two of them spoke in whispers as they made their way through the guest quarters of the King's House, heading outside where they stood blinking for a moment while their eyes adjusted to the bright, early morning sunshine.
"It's a beautiful morning," Éowyn finally said, her gaze moving around the Courtyard. Only a few people were about at the first hour – mostly guards and servants.
"It is, but we don't have time to enjoy it right now. People are waiting for us," said Rebecca as she started for the tunnel that led down to the lower levels of the city. Éowyn and their guards – Gílorn for Rebecca and two of the Rohirrim Riders for Éowyn – followed her.
"Are you sure the shops will be open?" asked Éowyn as she moved up alongside Rebecca.
"Yes. I sent a message last night asking if they would mind opening early for us and they both agreed. I've never done that before but Adar said it would all right, he didn't think they'd mind." She paused as they entered the tunnel and then she smiled at Éowyn. "You do seem to attract a bit of a crowd," she added with a small laugh.
Éowyn gave an unladylike snort. "I've noticed." She was quiet while they walked through the tunnel. "Do you truly think it will get better?"
"I think so, Éowyn. You'll always get more attention than I do just because of who you are, but I think it'll lessen once you've lived here for awhile. I don't think Adar or Arwen get as much attention as you do mostly because people are used to seeing and speaking with them." She glanced at Éowyn's hair. "And, you do stand out in a crowd," she added with a grin.
Éowyn stared pointedly at Rebecca's own blond hair. "And you don't?"
Rebecca pulled a strand of her hair out and examined it with a slight scowl. "Mine is not truly blond, it's more of a brownish blond. But, it is lighter than most of the people of Minas Tirith," she conceded.
"Most of the people of Gondor," Éowyn muttered.
"True," she replied with a small laugh. "Now, where do you want to go first? The linen shop or the glassmaker's? I'm not sure what you want to buy. Is it things for here or for you to take home?" Rebecca smiled at the boys who were pushing carts filled with various sizes of wooden crates through the sixth level gate.
"Mostly for home. I want things to give as gifts for some friends and for some of the servants after my wedding and something from here would be unusual and appreciated, I think," Éowyn said with a slight frown creasing her brow. There was a hesitancy in her voice that Rebecca clearly heard, though she said nothing.
"Faramir's housekeeper showed me around the Steward's apartments yesterday…"
"Do you like it?" Rebecca interrupted. It was so different than Meduseld and she wondered if there were any parts of it her friend might like. She'd only been in a few of the areas herself – the sitting and dining rooms – but it struck her as very formal.
Éowyn shrugged. "It will be fine once I change a few things. I'll be bringing things from home and that'll help. Right now the stone everywhere seems cold and unwelcoming. I'm not used to that," she said, "but Faramir has given me leave to change things as I see fit."
"I wasn't used to it either," said Rebecca with an understanding smile. "My house would almost have fit inside," she thought for a moment, "the garden and was made mostly of wood."
"It was that small?"
"No, the garden is that big," Rebecca retorted. "It was a regular sized house," she said, shrugging, "and I did say almost." Éowyn smiled and nodded.
"How much farther is it?" she asked, gazing around at the darkened shop windows they were walking past.
"Master Tadion's shop is there," Rebecca said with a small gesture ahead to where a door was standing slightly ajar. "He's the glassmaker," she added at Éowyn's questioning look.
As the two of them approached the shop, Master Tadion pulled the door open, greeting them with a smile and a bow. His appearance was neater than Rebecca had ever seen. There were none of the usual signs of his long hours spent at the forge melting and blowing the glass. No heavy leather gloves, no sweat on his brow, the only signs of his trade were the traces of scorched hair and the small burn scars that marked his arms and hands.
"Welcome, Lady Rebecca," he said as he closed the door after Gílorn and one of the Riders followed them inside. He looked sidelong at Éowyn but said nothing.
"Good morning, Master Tadion," replied Rebecca, smiling at the man. "This is Lady Éowyn," she said by way of introduction though, from the slight widening of his eyes, he had clearly recognized Éowyn as soon as they had walked through the door.
"Lady Éowyn, welcome," said Master Tadion as he again bowed. "How may I serve you this morning?" he asked, turning his gaze back to Rebecca.
"Lady Éowyn needs some things to take back to Rohan and I recommended you to her, Master Tadion. I don't remember seeing many things made of glass in Edoras," she said, glancing at Éowyn.
"It is rare there, which is why I thought gifts made of glass would be special."
"Were you thinking of something personal, like necklaces?" asked Master Tadion, gesturing to the glass beaded necklaces and bracelets on a shelf. "Or something decorative like a vase or a bowl?" He indicated those.
Éowyn's brow furrowed as she moved over to examine the necklaces. "I'm not sure," she said quietly. "Perhaps some of each."
"He can make something different or in a different color if you don't like what you see," volunteered Rebecca and both Éowyn and Master Tadion turned to her. Éowyn with an eyebrow raised and sort of a half smile and Master Tadion with a look that seemed both embarrassed and pleased.
"Yes, of course I can, my lady," he said. "I will at least try, though I'm afraid I have little knowledge of Rohan if you want something made to reflect it. However, if you describe what you desire I will attempt it."
Éowyn shook her head. "No, I would like things that will remind the people of Gondor… of me and where I will be living. These are pretty," she said, picking up a bracelet of small, colored glass beads. She examined them for a few minutes and then nodded. "Yes, these will do nicely. I'd like… ten of these, Master Tadion. Two of each of these colors," she added, pointing to the blue, yellow, red, green, and brown beaded bracelets.
"Yes, my lady," he said, writing it down on a piece of paper that had suddenly appeared. "Those won't take me long… a few days, I think." Éowyn nodded and walked over to look at some vases and bowls; Rebecca joined her.
"I got one like this," said Rebecca pointing to one that was indeed very similar to the one she had ordered the week before. "But mine is blue."
"I like it, but I think I like that one better." Éowyn pointed to a smaller, reddish colored vase on the next shelf and they moved over to examine it more closely.
"It's pretty," Rebecca agreed with a small shrug. "Though, I'd rather have it in a different color." Éowyn looked at her through narrowed eyes for a moment and then gave her own shrug.
"Blue?" she suggested dryly and Rebecca gave a small laugh.
"Or maybe green… in honor of Rohan," said Rebecca, grinning.
Master Tadion cleared his throat and the two ladies looked at him. "May I make a suggestion, my lady?" he asked, looking at Éowyn who nodded. "If you desire something beyond these colored vases on display, I can make ones with your seal as Princess of Ithilien on it." He looked down for a moment. "I know you're not married yet, but if you're not planning to give them as gifts until after your wedding then maybe you'd like something like that." A note of question entered his voice.
Éowyn stared down at the floor, frowning. "I think perhaps a small seal on the base of the vase would be nice," she said, looking up at the glassmaker. "Only about this big," she said, holding her fingers about an inch apart. "I would like five of each of these three vases," she touched each of them in turn, "Other than that, Master Tadion you have my leave to make them whatever color you like best." The glassmaker's eyes widened and he started to protest.
"But, my lady…"
"It truly does not matter, although," Éowyn said with a brief smile, "I would like them in several different colors." Rebecca stared at her friend, wide-eyed, but smiling, and Master Tadion bowed.
"I'll do as you wish, Lady Éowyn," a smile slowly lighting up his face. "It will be an honor to serve you this way."
"Thank you. It will make it easier for me, especially as Lady Rebecca and I are in somewhat of a hurry this morning." She glanced out the window.
"It's not too late yet, but we probably should be going," Rebecca said as she too looked outside. "The linen shop on the next level has also opened early for us. I do thank you for doing this," she said to the glassmaker.
"It is always my pleasure to serve you," said Master Tadion, "and you are welcome here at whatever time suits your needs." He looked back at Éowyn. "It will take me some time to make these… perhaps a week. Shall I send them up to the King's House when I'm finished, or somewhere else?"
"That will be fine, Master Tadion," Éowyn said as she moved toward the door, following after Rebecca. Gílorn opened the door, leading the way outside where more people were now on the streets. After taking leave of the glassmaker, the two young women spoke quietly of what they needed as they hurried on to the linen shop eager to finish their shopping and go home before the streets grew more crowded.
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After taking one last look at herself in the mirror, Rebecca made a small adjustment to her belt so that her sword hung more comfortably around her hips. She rarely wore the sword and it felt almost as awkward as it did the first time she'd donned it. However, she sensed that Haldir would be expecting her to have it and she could remove it later if it hindered her shooting. Finally satisfied with the sword belt she strapped on her quiver, picked up her bow, and headed out the door.
She cheerfully greeted Maldathor and the other men on guard duty in the hallway as she did every morning. While she had mostly grown accustomed to their presence in her life, she never wanted to overlook them and the sacrifice they were prepared to make on her behalf. Aragorn had cautioned her about talking to the men while they were on duty but had simply smiled and shaken his head when she asked if wishing them good morning counted as talking to them. Rebecca had almost made it to the door when someone coming down the stairs spoke to her.
"May I walk with you this morning, lady?"
"Yes, of course you can, Halbarad," she replied, smiling at him. "You're going to shoot too?" She gestured to the bow he was carrying. He and Aragorn practiced archery less often than their swords and she always enjoyed watching them on the occasions she happened to be at the practice yard at the same time.
His lips twitched as he nodded. "I usually learn something from watching the elves."
"I can't imagine you needing to learn very much."
Halbarad chuckled. "Thank you. However, you know you'll always be learning something from somebody, and especially from elves," he said as they continued their slow walk across the Courtyard.
"I know I will," she answered, a small gleam coming into her eyes as she glanced up at him. "But you're so old that I thought you knew everything," she laughed. He snorted softly in amusement.
"Did you like the house Camíriel showed you yesterday?" Rebecca asked. Halbarad and Camíriel had been looking at houses for several weeks but they were having a hard time finding a home that fit their needs.
"I did. It has enough rooms and there's a small garden with a view that overlooks the wall facing north. That was the thing I wanted most. And Camíriel liked everything else, so…" he shrugged. "But I'm not sure her parents will approve."
"Why not?"
"It's not on the sixth level, it's down on the fifth."
She considered that for a moment. Camíriel's father was a minor lord and she supposed something like where his daughter lived was important. Maybe more important than if he were a more prominent lord. The thought occurred to her that if it had a north facing garden and it was on the fifth level it was a pretty long walk from the Citadel. Well, it couldn't be helped and she'd miss Halbarad wherever he lived.
"What does Adar think? I don't think he'd mind."
Halbarad let out a small laugh. "No, he wouldn't. He knows where I grew up," he added. "Come on," he said lengthening his stride, "we won't have any time to practice if we don't hurry."
"Rebecca!" She stopped, turning and waiting for Thomas while Halbarad walked on without her. As he trotted toward her, the early morning sun reflecting off the various metal parts on the equipment he was wearing and highlighting his warm blue eyes brought a smile to Rebecca's lips. His brown hair was tied back with a bit of leather to keep it out of his face while he practiced and his short beard was neatly trimmed. Only six more days she thought longingly as she looked at him.
"Good morning," said Thomas, taking Rebecca's hand and kissing it. He held it tightly, smiling and glancing around the Courtyard. No one was in sight except their own guards and farther away the regular guards of the Citadel. He pulled Rebecca to him and kissed her full on the lips, briefly but passionately. She responded in kind, smiling when he stepped back.
"Good morning to you too, Thomas," she said with a small laugh. He grinned and shrugged.
"I haven't seen you since last night," was all he said and she laughed again. "Come on, I suppose we should do what we came here to do." There was the tiniest trace of regret or perhaps a question in his voice. Rebecca wasn't sure which it was but she nodded and they walked into the practice yard where they could hear the clashing of swords. She stopped, staring at Aragorn and Éomer as they sparred. Thomas pulled on her sleeve and she followed him around the edge of the yard to where a group of people had gathered. While Halbarad had joined a few of the Rangers who were watching the two kings, they stopped a few feet away from the elves… and one dwarf.
"Are you going to spar today?" whispered Rebecca without taking her eyes off the sparring men in front of her.
"I was hoping to fight one of them," he replied in the same low voice. "Maybe Elphir or Erchirion will show up. Though, I suppose," he cast a quick glance over at Elrohir and found the elf watching him with an amused smile and an elven eyebrow rose questioningly. Thomas gave a small nod and muttered to Rebecca, "I'll be sparring with our 'uncle'." She laughed under her breath as he walked away to begin warming up.
Rebecca drew in a sharp breath as Éomer's sword came perilously close to Aragorn's chest before his sword was suddenly there blocking the way to his body and thrusting Éomer's blade away as he danced back out of harm's way. She knew it probably wasn't as close as it appeared from where she was standing because everything happened so quickly. She didn't think Éomer was as graceful as her adar as she watched the two of them circle each other again, their swords darting out and probing for openings. Aragorn found a small opening and slid his blade under Éomer's trying to land a 'kill' on the King of Rohan but he deftly parried it, grinning at his friend who ignored him and pressed forward his attack. The smile quickly left Éomer's face as he found himself backpedaling, trying to ward off the quick, heavy blows of Aragorn's blade as the Gondorian King pushed his counterpart hard.
Rebecca could see the intense concentration on Éomer's face but only the back of Aragorn. Having seen him spar before, however, she knew his face would be a blank mask, showing little emotion and his eyes giving away none of his thoughts. It was not the look he wore when he was teaching and sparring with her and she assumed it was more how he appeared in a real battle which always made her shudder. Then it was over. Rebecca blinked as Aragorn somehow slipped his sword under Éomer's, hitting it hard enough from below that it flipped from the King of Rohan's hand and landed some distance away. Éomer scowled as his friend tapped him lightly on his thigh with the flat edge of his sword.
"Come and shoot, Lady Rebecca," said Haldir as soon as a now grinning Aragorn returned the blade to Éomer. Nodding, she followed him but kept an eye on Thomas as he and Elrohir walked out to begin sparring. She tried to remember if the two of them had sparred before and thought they must have at some time, but she couldn't remember watching it. The tall dark-haired elf moved with a smooth, fluid grace that was almost mesmerizing.
While Thomas lacked the extraordinary skill and vast experience of Elrohir, he was quick on his feet and had improved markedly during the year and a half since he'd first picked up a sword. Practicing with Aragorn, Halbarad, and some of the other Rangers had honed his skills and he appeared comfortable as his sword clashed loudly against Elrohir's. Thomas did not always stay in a defensive posture but was more aggressive and he looked for openings as he and Elrohir moved about the yard. Rebecca slowed and finally stopped to watch the sparring match.
"I enjoy watching him," she murmured to Haldir when she felt his presence at her side.
"Elrohir or Thomas?" he asked.
Rebecca turned and stared up at him. She hadn't heard even a trace of amusement in Haldir's voice, but surely he knew she meant Thomas. Finally, the tiniest twitch of his lips betrayed the elf – probably on purpose, Rebecca thought.
"Thomas, Captain Haldir!" she stated empathetically, shaking her head and turning back to the match. Light laughter came from the others around them and she sighed softly hoping her cheeks weren't turning as pink as they felt.
The match ended when Elrohir snaked his sword just under the outstretched arm of Thomas and struck the young man firmly on his ribs. Rebecca flinched as she watched, knowing that even with the thick protective tunic Thomas was wearing it had to hurt. But he just laughed at something Elrohir was saying as they walked off, making way for Elladan and Halbarad to begin their match. A light touch on her arm from Haldir reminded her it was time for her own practice and after smiling at Thomas, who grinned and shrugged in return, she followed the elf to where the archery targets were set up.
Haldir's brothers and Legolas were stringing their bows as she and Haldir approached doing the same. Gimli sat on a nearby bench smoking his pipe and bantering amiably with Legolas. Rebecca and Haldir joined Gimli as Legolas, Orophin, and Rúmil stepped up to shoot. As all three elves hit the targets dead center she wondered once again why they even bothered practicing, or at least why they practiced so often.
"Do you practice with your sword often?" Haldir asked Rebecca, indicating the one belted to her waist.
"No," she said, drawing the sword partway out of the sheath and glancing at the beautifully crafted weapon. "I only wore it today to honor your presence."
An amused snort came from Gimli and a brief smile from Haldir as he spoke. "If you are unused to it then do not wear it, it will only hinder you."
"I thought I'd set it aside," she agreed as she removed the belt and set it under the bench. "It does feel awkward now," she admitted.
"Why do you keep it then?" the elf asked.
"Because it was given to me in Lothlórien!" she exclaimed. "It's something I'll always treasure, Haldir," she added in a quieter voice.
"Something to give to your son or grandson someday," commented Gimli. "Dwarves hand down favorite axes or hammers to our children."
Rebecca blinked in surprise; it was not something she would ever have thought of, at least not now. The thought of children, let alone grandchildren, was far from her mind, even with the news of Arwen's pregnancy – though she was very excited about that.
"Perhaps a daughter," said Haldir, glancing at Gimli who nodded once.
"Perhaps," she replied, "but I don't think a daughter of mine will enjoy doing things like this." She looked out over the wall, staring down at the Pelennor. "I think any daughters of mine will... fit in better and will do other things."
"You fit in very well, sell nín," a low voice said as large gentle hands settled briefly on Rebecca's shoulders, patting them. Aragorn stepped around and looked down at his daughter, gazing at her with compassion. "I know it has been difficult for you at times, but is it not getting better?"
"Oh, yes, it is, Adar, it is," she said with a reassuring smile. "But, it'll be so different for any children Thomas and I have." She glanced at Thomas who had followed Aragorn and was watching her with a worried frown. "I had to do this," she lifted her bow and gesturing toward her sword, "but a daughter of mine won't have to, so I doubt they'd really be interested in doing it."
"I have observed that children often surprise their parents with the things they enjoy doing," Haldir said with a sidelong glance at Aragorn who smiled as he turned his gaze back on Rebecca.
"I have learned the same," Aragorn said. "This last year I have learned much about children… young adults," he corrected himself as he looked at Rebecca and Thomas in turn, his smile widening into a grin.
"I'm glad I could help," muttered Rebecca, though her eyes were sparkling.
"Me too," echoed Thomas with a small laugh. Gimli's much louder bark of laughter caused Legolas to turn from the target where he was collecting his arrows.
"I do not believe you are discussing the finer points of archery," called Legolas from the far end of the practice yard. Smiles and more laughter greeted his remark.
"Are you going to shoot, Adar?" Rebecca asked Aragorn. "I mean now, with me and Haldir?"
Aragorn smiled and glanced around, checking to see that no one else had joined them. His brothers were still sparring with the Rangers and Thomas did not have his bow.
"Yes, of course I will."
The three of them walked forward to shoot, ignoring the questioning look of Legolas as he and Haldir's brothers walked past to join Gimli and Thomas. Haldir was continuing on when Rebecca stopped some seventy yards from the target. The elf stopped and looked back at her, a hint of surprise in his icy blue eyes.
"You shoot from this distance now, Lady Rebecca?"
She nodded. "I told you I've been practicing almost every day."
"She is more faithful with practicing than I am," said Aragorn from where he was standing just to the side of them, leaning lightly on his bow as he watched. Rebecca nodded absentmindedly to his remark as Haldir made adjustments to her stance and grip.
"This finger needs to slide down a tiny bit; your fingers are too close together. And your left foot is turned out; you must keep it more in line with your shoulder."
"All right," said Rebecca as she carefully followed his directions. It felt both strange and somehow comforting to be listening to Haldir. But beyond that she was thrilled to receive actual instruction on what she was doing. Except for the rare times when Aragorn practiced with her and noticed she was doing something incorrectly, she practiced on her own. While she was shooting farther and consistently hit the target, Rebecca felt she could be more accurate but had not known what to do to improve.
"Nock an arrow and draw your bow but do not release it," Haldir directed. Rebecca did so and waited, trying not to let the strain on her muscles show on her face. "Release," said the elf after a quick examination. "You still bring your draw to your anchor point. Well done," he said and Rebecca smiled.
"Adar noticed a few weeks ago that I wasn't doing that, so I've been trying to remember to do it every time." Haldir nodded and looked at the target. The arrow was close to the center but to the upper left side of it. He smiled briefly down at Rebecca.
"I see that your aim remains much the same as when we started."
Rebecca laughed. Her arrows almost always did land on the upper left side of the target whether she was as close to the center as this first arrow was or up on the farthest edges of the target.
"Shoot the rest of your arrows and perhaps I will be able to see what error you are making. I imagine you will need to spend much time to correct it, though."
"I'll work hard on it… as long as I don't have to start in the next week or so," she replied, smiling.
Aragorn laughed while Haldir simply gestured for Rebecca to shoot, a faint smile on his lips.
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"Easy, boy," Thomas spoke softly to Nartál as he brushed the young horse after exercising it. "Do you like that?" he asked as the horse leaned against him when he ran the hard bristled brush across its back. He'd only recently begun riding the horse and only in the confines of the paddock here on the sixth level – which was not large. Soon he'd have to take the horse out for a real ride across the Pelennor, but he wanted to wait until after the wedding. "Ouch," he muttered as Nartál's tail flicked out, catching him across the back of his head. "Stop that," he added, giving the horse a firm pat on its back. The horse made a small snort, its tail flicking the other way. Thomas smiled.
He looked at the wall of the next stall when the horse stabled there began kicking it. Nartál lazily swung his head around and looked toward the wall briefly, but the horse was as accustomed to the noise as Thomas was and did not otherwise react. "I'll be there in a minute, Baldor," Thomas called to his other horse. Baldor only slowed the frequency of his kicks against the wooden wall but did not stop. Grimacing, he shook his head and sped up. It wouldn't take long to brush the other horse as it hadn't been ridden; mostly Baldor just wanted the attention.
But he could not afford a long delay with the other things he had planned. The next few days were filled with things having to do with the wedding – there were some things that he had no idea what they were, he only knew he'd been told to show up at certain places at certain times. He'd just smiled and agreed. But today he was having breakfast with Rebecca. A lunch or dinner was out of the question, but breakfast could still be managed, at least today. It would be wonderful to have a few minutes alone with her. Those times had been few and far between the last few weeks, ever since their guests had started arriving.
And now the city was swelling with all of the other people that were arriving for the wedding. Some of the lords and ladies from distant lands – such as Dale and Lake-town – were staying in the guest quarters. But the people from different parts of Gondor that had come were filling the inns. Thomas paused in his brushing, staring blankly at the back wall of the stable. While he knew the people were coming to honor Aragorn, still they were going to be at his and Rebecca's wedding and his stomach gave a sudden lurch just thinking about it. He took a deep breath. Of course, he reminded himself, not all of the people would be allowed into the Citadel and so everyone wouldn't be there. It was the same at Aragorn and Arwen's wedding, when there had been a large celebration on the Pelennor for most of the people.
"If you're just going to stand there you can brush Firefoot."
Thomas started when the familiar voice spoke behind him. He patted Nartál to calm the startled horse as he turned to speak with Éomer who was leaning on the door of the stall, a wide grin on his face.
"Oh, you can brush your own horse, I still have to brush Baldor," Thomas replied with an answering grin. He moved to the door and clasped Éomer's arm. "You are here early, are you not?"
Éomer nodded. "I always ready Firefoot myself. Are you well?" he asked, a look of concern on his face.
Thomas waved his hand dismissively. "I was just thinking of the wedding and all the people who are going to be there," he replied, shrugging. He turned back to brushing his horse. "There's going to be a lot of them."
Éomer gave a small laugh, ignoring the irritated glare Thomas shot him. "Yes, there are. I doubt you'll even notice them, though. Nartál looks good, have you begun riding him yet?"
"About a month ago, but just here in the paddock, I'll wait until after the wedding to take him down to the Pelennor for a longer ride. He's a wonderful horse, Éomer," he said, patting the horse's neck affectionately. Finally finished brushing and cleaning the horse, Thomas gathered his things into the small bucket he used to carry them from the tack room and moved to the door which the King of Rohan opened for him.
"Good, I thought he had the makings of a fine horse. I'll go riding with you when you take him out."
Thomas nodded as he walked to Baldor's stall where the gelding was still occasionally kicking the wall and now had his head poked out and was staring at him. It was not going to be fun brushing him this morning. "I heard you're going riding with Faramir and Éowyn this morning. You're their chaperone, I suppose?" he said, grinning.
Éomer gave a small shrug and an almost sheepish expression appeared on his face. "Faramir invited Lady Lothíriel to accompany them and I thought that perhaps I would join them as well."
"Then maybe Erchirion or Amrothos should go along to chaperone you and Lady Lothíriel," Thomas said, laughing. He carefully made his way into Baldor's stall, pushing the horse back and chiding it sternly as it lipped at his hair. Baldor ignored the scolding and did not settle until he began brushing it with long firm strokes on his withers and back.
"It's far too early to wake those two," replied Éomer, grinning. "I believe Faramir will be enough of a chaperone for his cousin." Thomas shook his head, smiling, but not looking up from what he was doing. Éomer pushed himself away from the stable door. "I'd better go saddle Firefoot or I won't be ready to leave with the others." He turned to go and didn't look back at Thomas's parting words.
"Lady Lothíriel would wait for you; I've seen the looks she gives you when you're not watching her." Thomas smiled at the muttered Rohirric words he could hear but not understand before he turned back to an impatient Baldor, anxious to finish so that he could join the woman he loved for breakfast.
0-0-0-0
Thomas rushed out of his room still pulling on a clean tunic as he headed across the hallway and into the sitting room. On the way up from the stable he'd been stopped by several lords and ladies wanting to wish him joy and blessings on his upcoming marriage and the delays had made him even later than he already was after speaking with Éomer. He hoped Rebecca hadn't been worried about him and wondered if he should have send Rosruin with a message. Well, it was too late for that, he thought as he saw Rebecca standing out on the balcony. She turned when he opened the door, a frown creasing her forehead.
"I'm sorry, Rebecca," he blurted out as soon as the door closed behind him.
"You're all right?" she asked, looking him up and down.
"Yes, I'm fine," he replied, moving to her. Taking Rebecca's hand he brought it to his lips and kissed it. "I was at the stables…"
"I know, you told me last night you were going there but I expected you to return some time ago. Maybe an hour, but at least a half hour ago." She gestured at the table behind him. "The food… I don't think it'll be any good… and I…" Rebecca's voice trailed off and she looked away.
Thomas stared at her. Surely her voice had not been trembling and there couldn't be tears in her eyes. Not over food that had gone cold. They could simply ask the servants to bring more and… he glanced at the table and bit back a groan. No wonder Rebecca was upset. From the looks of the food on the table, she'd evidently made breakfast herself. For him, he thought guiltily.
"I'm sorry," he repeated, tightening his grip on her hand. "I would've been here sooner but people kept stopping me to offer congratulations on the wedding and Éomer came to the stable when I was finishing with Nartál and we talked for awhile." Rebecca looked up at that and Thomas saw a scowl starting to form, pushing aside her tears.
"I kept working while he was there," he hastened to add. "I don't think it slowed me down too much, Rebecca. But I couldn't not talk to him." He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. She nodded and laid her head against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him.
"No," she said with a deep sigh, "I guess not, but I wanted this to be perfect for you… for us and now it's ruined." Thomas rubbed her backed lightly and she sighed again.
"You made it, didn't you?" Rebecca nodded without raising her head. "Thank you," he said, pressing a kiss into her hair. "Well, I'm hungry and I'm sure some of it's still good…"
"We can get something else," she interrupted softly. Thomas wasn't convinced she really meant it and he shrugged.
"Only if we have to. Come on." He led her over to the table where he moved a couple of chairs close together before they sat down. "The fruit isn't spoiled," he said plucking a strawberry from a bowl and holding it up for inspection. "Here, open your mouth." Rebecca glanced from the strawberry to Thomas and back before opening her mouth. He placed the red fruit gently between her lips and watched as she slowly chewed and swallowed. Smiling slightly, he took one for himself before she silently scooped small spoonfuls of the strawberries onto their plates.
"Did you make these?"
"Yes, but they won't be any good, Thomas, they're cold!" He shrugged as he picked up the plate with the omelets and put one on each of their plates.
"I haven't had an omelet in years. Even before we came here it wasn't something I ate very often. We usually ate scrambled eggs when I worked on the ranch. Is this ham?" he asked. He was growing more and more concerned about Rebecca and the way she was acting. Something besides a cold breakfast was bothering her.
"Yes, and cheese," she replied with a soft sigh.
"What's in here?" he asked, tapping one of the trays that still had a warming cover over it.
"Fr-French toast." Rebecca's voice quavered when she answered him and, alarmed, Thomas grabbed her hand.
"Rebecca, what's the matter? You're not this upset just about breakfast. Tell me what's wrong. Please," he added when she didn't immediately respond.
"My… Mom used to make French toast for me," she finally whispered. "An-and wh-when I was making it, I…" she let out a deep sigh that was almost a sob, "I just miss… miss her, Thomas." She looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "The wedding…" her voice trailed off and she looked away, blinking.
Thomas pulled her even closer, wrapping his arms around her and guiding her head down to rest on his shoulder. He didn't say anything as she began to weep; he just rubbed her back and occasionally kissed her forehead as he pondered what to say. Thoughts of his mother and his brother had crossed his mind several times in the last few weeks, but it had never occurred to him that Rebecca would be having similar thoughts and that they should speak about it. As her crying subsided he finally spoke.
"Have you been thinking of her often, Rebecca, or just today?" When she answered her voice was so soft Thomas could barely hear her.
"The last few days." There was a long pause. "Mostly at night… we're too busy during the day for me to have time to think."
Thomas tightened his grip briefly. "I wish I could have met her," he finally said. "I wish she could be part of this with you and me." Rebecca stirred then, turning and looking up at him.
"She'd have liked you I think."
"You only think so?" he asked in mock dismay, a small smile crossing his lips. Rebecca buried her face back into his shoulder and shook her head, her answer muffled enough that he couldn't hear it. "I know my mother would have loved you," he said quietly. She stilled and it was a long moment before she sat up, her eyes searching Thomas's face.
"Your mother… and Johnny… I didn't think," she said, reaching out and running her fingers softly down his cheek.
Thomas grabbed her hand and kissed it gently. "I've been thinking of them some," he admitted. "Of course I wish they were here, but it's really not something I think about a lot."
"I haven't either except the last week," Rebecca said, with a deep sigh. "Mom and I never talked about my wedding. But sometimes when we were at weddings she mentioned things she liked and I can't help wondering if she'd like all this… this stuff." She waved her hand around.
"I think she'd be as overwhelmed as we are," said Thomas with a rueful smile. "But she'd also accept it as part of what we have to do… just like we're doing," he said. "Back home there would have been maybe a couple hundred people at the wedding. Now? I don't know, but there'll be a lot more than that here… I try not to think about it."
Rebecca took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his as she spoke. "I try not to think about that either, I just think about the fact that when it's over we'll be married. That is the only part that I'm glad about right now."
"Truly?" asked Thomas, surprised. She had seemed happy about the wedding plans up until now, perhaps a little worried about things being just right, but he thought that was just normal wedding concerns that most young women had. Rebecca hesitated before answering him.
"I… I don't know," she said. "Maybe I'm just tired, Thomas. I do like my dress and I like the feast and celebration things Arwen and I have planned with the Master of Protocol and I'm so glad to see our friends again. Maybe I'm just nervous… or…"
"And you miss your family. All of them," he interrupted her, remembering the numerous aunts, uncles, and cousins she'd mentioned from time to time. "Not just your mom, but all of them. Weddings are family times so it's not surprising you're missing them, Rebecca. I… I just wish there was something I could do."
"You are right now," she replied softly, leaning into him again. He wrapped his strong arms around her, pulling her close but not speaking. Their breakfast forgotten, they sat on the balcony for a long time staring out over the Pelennor, occasionally speaking of those they had lost and finding comfort in one another.
0-0-0-0
Aragorn looked up, startled, when the door to his office opened. Rarely did anyone come in without knocking first. He was even more surprised to see Thomas poke his head around the door knowing his son was supposed to be doing something with Legolas and Gimli, or so he thought.
"Can I talk to you, Adar?"
"Of course, come in," replied Aragorn. As he stood and moved toward the chairs around the hearth he studied Thomas, easily seeing the concern in the young man's eyes.
"I'm sorry for interrupting you," Thomas said as he sank down onto the chair. "Master Lamaen said no one was with you right now and… I didn't even knock!" he said and a sheepish grin appeared. "I'm sorry for that too."
Aragorn smiled and shook his head. "It does not matter, although it did startle me. But, it is unlike you to do such a thing. What troubles you, Thomas?"
Thomas grimaced. "Rebecca…" his voice trailed off and he frowned.
"Has something happened? I spoke with her briefly a few hours ago," said Aragorn, thinking back to earlier in the morning when he had seen her scurrying around making breakfast.
"Nothing happened to her, it's just she's missing her mom and her family… she wishes they could be here for the wedding."
"Oh." Aragorn sat back in his chair running his hand through his hair and gazing out the window. After a moment he looked back at Thomas. "I should have realized… Arwen and I even spoke of it several months ago." He looked intently at his son. "And, you, how do you fare?"
"I'm doing all right. I wish Mom and Johnny could be here, but then," he paused, and added slowly, "I also wish my… other father could be here." He gave Aragorn a small smile and shrugged.
Aragorn nodded; it did appear that his son truly was at peace. "I will speak with her tonight after…"
Thomas interrupted him. "I was hoping for something more than just you speaking with her for a few minutes, Adar. Is there a way we can have a meal together? Just the four of us? I think Arwen needs to be there, too."
"She does," Aragorn said slowly, thinking of the schedule for the next few days. There were formal and informal feasts the next several nights leading up to the wedding, the formal one for those who had traveled from distant lands, for the lord and ladies of Gondor, and for the guild masters who would be there to discuss trade, and the informal feast for close friends and family. His own days were filled with meetings with some of these same people, the only reason he was not in a meeting now was that one had ended early.
"It would have to be breakfast, Thomas, and we would have to eat very early. You know my schedule."
Thomas nodded. "I do, and I'm sorry I can't help you."
Aragorn waved off the apology. "There is no need to apologize, ion-nín; I only regret that I cannot be with you during some of the things you are doing."
"You wouldn't enjoy all of them, Adar. Camíriel's lunch… or tea the other day was… well, I'm not sure why she invited the men at all."
"Do you not?" asked Aragorn, grinning. "If she invited you, Halbarad, Éomer, Faramir, and Imrahil, then she could also invite Erchirion and Amrothos. Even if Imrahil could not come because he was busy, his sons would come and Camíriel could introduce them to her friends… who are not married. Or so Arwen told me."
Thomas groaned, burying his head in his hands. "I had to go to that just so she could play matchmaker?" Aragorn laughed.
"Halbarad did not enjoy it either and Faramir and Imrahil were actually relieved to meet with the Harad ambassador that day." A knock on the door stilled his laughter as he called for the person to come in.
"Pardon me, my lord, but the members of your council have arrived and are waiting in the council chamber," said Master Lamaen.
"Tell them I will be there in a moment," said Aragorn as he stood. The secretary bowed and retreated to the outer office, closing the door behind him. Placing his hand on Thomas's shoulder, Aragorn steered him toward the door. "Speak to Rebecca, Thomas, and we will meet at… sunrise in our chambers for breakfast. I know it is early," he said, noticing Thomas's furrowed brow, "but if we do not meet then we will have little time to speak."
"I know," Thomas said, sighing, "but I'm not looking forward to telling Rebecca we're having breakfast that early." He shook his head as Aragorn smiled. "Thank you, Adar," he said as he opened the door. "It'll help, I know it will."
"I hope it will ease her sorrow a little," Aragorn replied as they walked out into the hallway toward the council chamber. "This should be a time of joy for her… for you both."
"It is, it is. At least the actual marrying me part is," Thomas said with a grin.
Aragorn chuckled. "Go and speak with her and I will see you this evening." The younger man nodded and hurried away. Aragorn watched him for a moment before a small sigh escaped his lips and with a small tug on his tunic to straighten it, he opened the door to meet with his most trusted councilors.
0-0-0-0-0
"Before you go I have something for you, Rebecca. I was going to give you this on your birthday next month, but Estel and I spoke last evening and thought perhaps it would be appropriate to give it to you now." Arwen handed her a square wooden box. It had intricate carvings of flowers and birds on the dark grained wood and the well worn edges suggested great age.
As Rebecca took the box she looked closely at Arwen wondering at the hesitation she heard in her voice. But the elf smiled and she decided she must have been mistaken. It had been weeks since just the four of them had shared a meal together and as they ate and talked over breakfast, Rebecca had felt some of her grief easing with the simple reminder of whom she did have in her life now. Two people that, while they could never replace her mother, loved her and cared for her in much the same way, and whom she loved in return.
"Thank you," she said, smiling at Arwen. The clasp on the box was different than any of the clasps she had seen in Minas Tirith and she wondered if it was due to the obvious age of the box or because it was elvish. After opening the box, Rebecca could only stare, speechless, at what lay nestled in the folds of protective cloth. Finally, Arwen spoke.
"My naneth gave it to me," the elf said in a soft, gentle voice. Rebecca started and looked up, her eyes widening in disbelief.
"What is it?" asked Thomas, who was sitting across the table from Rebecca,
Rebecca ignored him. "You can't give me this, Arwen! Not if your naneth gave it to you." She began closing the box but Arwen stopped her and with a small sigh and nod she opened it back up and examined it more closely.
"It's beautiful," said Rebecca as she carefully picked up the necklace. It was silver in color but no gems or stones descended from it. Instead it was three delicate chains woven together with each thin, flat strand having a faint design of shooting stars etched onto it. The necklace was not long; it appeared it would just fit around her neck. Thomas drew in a sharp breath when he saw it.
"That's mithril, is it not?" he asked, looking from Arwen to Aragorn in turn.
"It is," Arwen agreed with a small smile. "Naneth gave it to me on my… I believe it was for my two hundredth begetting day." She laughed lightly, glancing at Aragorn who shrugged, grinning.
"I was not there,meleth-nín."
Rebecca almost dropped the necklace in her haste to put it back in the box. "Th-that means it's more than two thousand years old."
"Closer to three thousand," said Aragorn giving his daughter an intent look. "Why does that… upset you, Rebecca? My ring," he indicated the Ring of Barahir on his finger, "is more than eight thousand years old."
She shook her head and turned to Arwen. "It's not the age of the ring," she said, struggling to explain herself. "It's… it's that you've had it so long and your mother gave it to you and… and you won't see her again," she ended in a whisper.
Arwen took Rebecca's hand and squeezed it gently before picking up the necklace. "I have many things that my naneth has given to me, sell-nín, and I would like you to have this. Not because it was given to me by my naneth, but simply because it was mine and it was something I treasured. Will you wear it?" she asked, holding up the necklace, a question in her light grey eyes. Rebecca studied Arwen for a long moment and then nodded, turning so that the necklace could be placed around her neck and fastened. It fit perfectly.
"Thank you," said Rebecca, fingering the chain where it lay cool against the base of her neck. She looked up at Arwen then and repeated her thanks before standing and moving around the edge of the table toward her. Arwen stood and embraced Rebecca as she whispered her thanks a third time. As the two broke apart, Aragorn smiled as he commented,
"It suits you very well, Rebecca."
"Can I see it?" asked Thomas as he moved closer. Rebecca nodded, lifting her head slightly so he could see it. He gently ran his fingers along the necklace. "It is beautiful, Arwen," he said, glancing at the elf. He pulled Rebecca closer with his other hand and placed a light kiss on her lips before stepping back with an almost inaudible sigh.
"How much longer until the wedding?" asked Aragorn, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Too long," muttered Thomas while Rebecca answered the question.
"Three days. But then," she said after a brief pause, "today is not a full day now and we get married late in the afternoon so that's not a full day either. So that leaves only tomorrow as a full day." She turned to Thomas, giggling. "Really it's only two days left."
Thomas smiled and kissed her again.
0-0-0-0-0
To be continued…
Sindarin Translations:
ion-nín
– my son
meleth-nín –
my love
muindor-nín –
my brother
sell-nín –
my daughter
