Arandir delved hungrily into the last of the sweet bread Triswyn sat back against a rock and hummed while she checked her mental map, looking up every few seconds to remark to herself how gaunt he looked. It worried her.
They had been delayed for a day due to Arandir's condition, so she had time to plan her next move. Something drew her North. To what, she didn't know. North was a land of dead memories, forgotten by the world of men.
To the West of their camp was the ever haunting presence of Fangorn Forest. Triswyn felt as though keeping it within her field of vision gave the advantage of running into it should there be any trouble. She laid awake at night staring at the treeline, thinking that maybe she could catch a glimpse of white robes or maybe the boughs of the trees swaying on their own volition.
"Why do you stare at that damned forest?" Arandir asked, wiping the crumbs away from his chest.
Triswyn raised her brow, "Because as a person with eyes I can look wherever I want to."
"Oh how I've been missing your witty quips these past few moments." Arandir chuckled.
Triswyn shook her head, standing up to pick up the few things sprawled about.
"How are your wounds?" She asked nonchalantly.
Arandir cleared his throat, answering sarcastically, "They seem to be having a fine time." After receiving a pointed glare from Triswyn, however, he changed his tone, "Healing, my lady."
"Good." Triswyn answered quickly, "Perhaps soon you may be able to walk."
"I should think so," Arandir said, "Then I can finally get some distance between that smelly bear of yours."
Triswyn scoffed, "If not for Milodan we would both be dead. Show my bear some gratitude." She threw a pack at him, "Now help clean up, we're riding North."
"North?"
"North."
"Wh...North?"
"Arandir, I understand the beam to your head must have altered your hearing, but I indeed said NORTH."
Shaking his head, Arandir began to argue, "There's nothing to the north, Princess. Whereas if we go west we can actually find someone to help us in our little predicament. Or were you not there when your family was slaughtered?"
Triswyn didn't answer, for fear her boiling rage would allow her to say something she would regret. Instead she kept packing, saddling up her horse, and putting on her travelling gear.
When she was ready to set out, she turned to Arandir, "You can either crawl to the west, or get on the horse and come north with me." Her tone was icy, "And, Arandir,. if you ever mention my family again I will kill you. Either way, I'm going north."
She began to slowly lead Milodan away, leaving Arandir to lie in the grass, not even looking back to see Arandir rolling his eyes and struggling to stand up and limp his way over to her. She stopped long enough for him to mount, and then they began to make their way up north.
The guard stood hesitant. He debated whether to wait until later or interrupt King Trinian in his chambers.
'Either way,' the guard thought, 'The king would be unhappy.'
His hand was poised to knock, but again he hesitated. Sweat beaded down his forehead.
"Just knock." His fellow guardsman whispered.
"I…" He began.
His partner rolled his eyes, "The king has to know."
"Yes...but…"
The other guardsman pushed him aside and opened the large doors.
'In hindsight', the guard thought, 'We should have waited.'
King Trinian faced the guards from his bed, on his knees rutting with one of the maids. There was a cloth pulled into her mouth and around her head that muffled her tired cries. Showing his annoyance, Trinian grabbed her small fragile hips and pulled her to him, stroking her hair while he finished, letting his guards watch.
"You witness today the start of my line." He roared, pushing the girl off of him and grabbing a robe for himself, "Is it not joyous?"
The guards nodded quickly.
"Why?" Trinian asked, "I do not think so. For these will all be bastard children with dogs for mothers." His eyes glazed over while he stared off into the distance. Then he shot his gaze towards the hesitant guard, "Why do you disturb me?"
The guard fumbled, "My King, I, uh."
"He means to tell you we've found a trace of the exile, good King." The other guard piped up.
Trinian twirled around, "Ah, my good niece," He started to giggle, "No doubt she would have tried to make her way south to Gondor."
"Well, Sire," The guard spoke, "She started to head north."
The King stopped his twirls, "North?" He thought for a moment, "Perhaps she meant to turn her gaze, once out of my reach, to Helm's Deep. I still have men there." He spoke to himself.
He turned to the guards, "Send a group of men to scout near Helm's Deep. Then send a boat up the great river. Tell them whoever sees my niece first will be rewarded greatly. Lands and a title I think. As well as women." He looked behind him to the maid girl, who was still crying.
Before the guards left, Trinian called to them, "If they happen to find her alive, bring her to me. Unscathed. Anyone with her is free range."
"Yes, King Trinian." The guardsmen put their fists to their chest, then shut the doors behind them.
Trinian went to his bed, stroking the dark brown hair from the maid's face.
"What is your name?" He asked, moving her gag down from her parched lips.
"F...Falan." She answered weakly.
"Hm…" The King thought, "Falan, please bring me the other girl. With the red hair."
Falan left quickly, eager to be free from his gaze. Not a moment later a young woman with wavy red hair entered his chambers.
Trinian ran his fingers over her hips, "A little skinny, but you shall do I think." He turned her around and pulled her to him, cupping her breasts, "I should like to call you Triswyn."