Celridel: thank you :)

I haven't mentioned it before, but Arnor's partition occurred some time after T.A. 861, so we're almost one millennium after that (all in all, Arnor did not last very long).

Chapter 12 – A Sad Goodbye

Summer passed by quickly. It was a wonderful season, filled with joy and laughter, and Fíriel cherished every moment of it – even years later she would look back at it fondly. Under the Sun and the clear blue sky, Arthedain's wild landscapes unraveled unexpected beauties and exploring the North Downs and the moors surrounding Fornost kept the Gondorians quite busy. Arvedui, Artamir and Faramir went hunting together on numerous occasions, and sometimes Fíriel joined them, and she also traveled to Bree, which seemed a funny idea to many. The princess had wished to see where Meldis' family dwelled and although the town was small, it was prosperous enough, for it was located at the crossing of east-west and north-south routes. There was not much to see there, yet the princess enjoyed the trip immensely, because the cottage of Meldis' parents was a charming place where she had been welcomed warmly – and she had also been thrilled to meet some of the Halflings living in the area.

Only the absence of her father tarnished some of those days and even the use of the palantír could barely keep at bay her desire to see him. However, she still managed to reassure herself, for time would come soon when she would travel South and when she would see Minas Anor once more – there the King would wait for her. Upon the end of summer, Fíriel held onto that thought more than ever and, as her brothers and mother's departure neared, she promised herself to bid them goodbye serenely. After all, they could not stay in Arthedain forever, they were needed elsewhere, and she, she had to live her life on her own.

It was on a quiet morning of early September that most of the Gondorian delegation left Fornost. King Araphant himself had come for the send-off and it was no secret the departure of his southern guests was a relief for him. Although the King's jolly mood should have surprised her, Queen Russiel did not even notice it, for she was too grieved to have to part from her daughter to bother with anything else. Her days as a Queen had taught her to conceal her emotions in public, yet there were tears in her eyes when she exclaimed, "Ah, my dear Fíriel, to think that on our next meeting, you might have become a mother!"

The princess was expected to bear Arvedui a son, and soon preferably, for it was part of her duties, like some sort of special mission. It was something Fíriel was well aware of and, truth was, she was herself looking forward the day she would hold a baby in her arms. Yet it had not dawned upon her it'd probably happen within the next year and, instinctively, she put a hand on her belly, wondering if a new life had already sparked in her.

"It's been almost three months, but I haven't quite processed everything that marriage encompasses," Fíriel admitted, as her mother hugged her tightly.

"It is quite the adventure," Queen Russiel told her, smiling, "yet I daresay this prince revealed himself to be a surprise, and an excellent one." And she added, in an undertone, "Let us pray he does not turn like his father as he ages."

"Oh, mother, I hope this is no foresight of yours," said Fíriel and she laughed a little, despite her sadness.

As she was about to become a mother herself – whether it happened in next months or in the next years –, she would have given anything to have hers nearby, for comfort and good counsel.

"Worry not, I never was one to have visions."

The Queen kissed her daughter on the forehead, and on both cheeks, and then she proceeded to fuss with her clothes, adjusting ribbons and laces, just as she used to do when Fíriel was a child. In the end, it was Artamir who came and gently reminded his mother they were about to depart and that he and Faramir had yet to say goodbye to their sister. They had spent almost half a year in Arthedain and it had been easy for Fíriel to forget they'd have to go, one day. Faramir, who was quite demonstrative at times, held his sister in his arms, ruffling her hair as if no one around could see them, and he promised he would be back as soon as he could.

"I'm only the second son, they have no real use for me in Gondor," he told her, grinning as he finally let her go.

"Neither do they need you here," Artamir retorted.

The siblings laughed one last time together and then the Gondorian delegation started to move – within minutes they all had passed the great gates of Fornost, treading on the north-south road. It was not long before there was nothing more to look at and Fíriel knew it was time for her to go back to the King's halls, to this place that was her home now.

"I will miss your brothers, they have become dear friends," Arvedui said, for he had stayed by her side, even though his father and the other lords had already scattered.

He knew what he felt could not be compared to Fíriel's sadness, but he had genuinely grown fond of Artamir and Faramir. The princes were perhaps among those few people who truly understood his struggles and he dearly wished next time they'd meet would be to celebrate again and not to fight enemies.

"Oh, you shall hear from them often from now on, for they have also become your brothers," the princess said, smiling.

Holding Arvedui's hand steadied her. In his presence, she had been able to face calmly the departure of her family and of the other Gondorians and she felt lucky. For the first time, it had crossed her mind it could have been worse to marry a man she loved not and remain in Gondor, than to spend her life in Arthedain, but with a man she loved.

Gondor T.A. 1940 October

"Might I have a word with you, lord Pelendur?"

Queen Russiel had cornered the Steward, after the Great Council had been dismissed. The alliance with Arthedain had been at the heart of most of discussions, yet the Queen thought she should take care of a few issues on her own and she wanted to be sure the Steward heard her well on this.

"Of course, your Highness."

"Perhaps my husband does not share my opinion on this, yet he has not met the man himself. And I should warn you about him, for I do no trust this king."

"You have me worried."

"King Araphant is insufferable, although his bad temper is the least of my concerns… As I said, I do not trust him, I daresay I have grown convinced he shan't come to our aid the day we summon him."

"Would he be so disloyal? Why would he have agreed to the alliance?"

"Truth is, he has little men to spare and this alliance serves him better than it serves us."

"Your Highness, I understand your concerns, but I think a formal alliance with the northerners was needed. Indeed, it is more profitable to Arthedain, however it reopens roads that have been too long closed and it also secures Gondor's position in Middle-earth."

The Steward's views on the matter were strategic, for he had the firm belief that Gondor could overcome his enemies without any exterior help – anyhow, he could not conceive that any help sent by Arthedain would make a significant difference. Yet he could see how gaining new allies could be beneficial, if anything the Northerners would keep the With-King busy and that was a threat he wished would remain far from his kingdom.

"It is right, but I fear his obsession for this old prophecy has long clouded his judgement…You should have heard him, lord Pelendur, he believes the Dúnedain are doomed." She lowered her voice. "He spoke like a madman, convinced that his realm will fall and that his son will be helpless…"

"Could it be that your Highness is preoccupied by the well-being of the princess? I do hope King Araphant treats lady Fíriel as well as her rank commands it."

"Oh, she has been given everything she could wish for and however poorly I think of King Araphant, it seems highly unlikely he would ever threaten her… but I suppose I cannot help but worry about her. She is my only daughter, after all."

When the possibility of a wedding between Arvedui and Fíriel had been discussed, lord Pelendur had opposed it, for he had believed that it would be conceding too much to the Northerners. Yet the King had been eager to seal the alliance and, obviously, to him it could not just be a military matter, for he was convinced the two royal lines had to be tied formally. The Council had agreed, so had the princess, and, in the end, the Steward had ceased to oppose to this decision, even though he had nurtured the idea that the princess would be married to his own son.

"I do understand why we should not put too much trust in King Araphant, yet for now it seems useless to concern ourselves overly with him, does it not? So long as the princess is safe in Fornost."

"Indeed. You are my husband's most trusted adviser, lord Pelendur, thus do remember my words, for you too shall have to deal with the King of Arthedain when the time comes."

"I shall not disappoint you, your Highness."

And Queen Russiel confided much of her thoughts to the Steward, for he was a reliable man and she knew his influence on the Council could help balance King Ondoher's sometimes idealistic views on the North. In fact, she talked so much about the father that she forgot the son. It seemed unimportant at the time, since she had nothing to complain about when it came to Arvedui – expect, perhaps, that he was a bit too stern-looking. Yet it gave lord Pelendur a false impression of the prince and in his mind father and son remained linked, as if he should beware of both. Even Artamir and Faramir's praises never quite erased this idea that Arvedui, like King Araphant, was not trustworthy. And he would indeed remember it, when time came.

Autumn was a gloomy season in Arthedain, or so it seemed to Fíriel. It rained often, and it was ever the same cold drizzle that seeped into clothes and bones, and mist lingered in vales and hollows all day long. The year before, the princess had loathed this dull weather, so different from what she was used to, and still she doubted she'd ever grow fond of muddy trails and mossy rocks. Yet her life in the north had gone through significant improvements that helped her overlook nature's melancholic displays and she could always take refuge in the greenhouses, where it never rained – she also was introduced to mushroom hunting and learned that humidity did truly have its upsides.

King Araphant usually claimed Arvedui for himself, sending him on all sorts of errands in Fornost and its surroundings, and it was as if he relished keeping apart the newlyweds. However, his power had its limits and he had to concede a few minor victories to his daughter-in-law. For one thing, Fíriel was finally invited to attend to the King's private council and not just vaguely allowed to be part of it, which meant she was actually notified in time to be present during reunions. The princess wondered if it was Artamir who had obtained this seat for her, for his negotiation skills were outstanding, or if, by any chance, the King of Arthedain had deemed her worthy of it on his own. Yet it soon appeared King Araphant had not changed his mind about her and was still convinced she should stick to the greenhouses – and nurseries, should she bear a child.

Fíriel was also formally granted permission to use the palantír as she pleased, although she was never left alone with it, which was no real inconvenience. Being in contact with her family, especially with her father, was something she needed and it was still difficult for her to process that she would spend the rest of her life away from them. It was during her visits in the tower where the stone was stored that she noticed King Araphant was often there himself. At first, she feared he meant to spy on her, yet she quickly realized he had uses of his own for the palantíri – most likely something related to the ongoing war against Angmar, she assumed.

Fíriel did not have to deal with the presence of her father-in-law much longer, for, in November, came the announcement of his and Arvedui's imminent departure for the north-eastern areas of the realm. Harsh wind was blowing up there and there were some movements in Angmar, for Orcs had been sighted east of the North Downs and there had already been a few skirmishes on the borders of Rhudaur. The princess did wish only the King would leave Fornost, but she knew her husband played a key part in the protection of the realm – it was part of the deal that he'd often be away.

And despite being ready to face such situations, she could hardly contain her emotion when Arvedui told her he would be absent for at least three months. Inviting her in his study, he had meant to explain to her where he would go and what he would do, so she would understand what he and his father were up to, yet he quickly discarded his maps when he saw tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Fíriel, are you crying?"

"No…" she said, although it denial was quite useless. "A little, perhaps, but it is not important."

Truth be told, Arvedui had never seen Fíriel weep before. There had been times when there had been traces of it on her face, especially during her first weeks in Fornost, yet not once had she openly cried in front of him – not even after her brothers and mother had been gone. For a few seconds, he felt helpless: on one hand, he was touched, almost flattered, that the mere idea of him leaving could cause her such a reaction, however he had also become worried.

"Will you be alright, while I am gone?" he inquired, hoping it did not sound too pretentious of him to wonder if she could do well without him.

"Of course, I will," she answered, wiping her tears as best as she could.

Her answer had been firm, but Arvedui's heart was filled with pity as he was reminded of how difficult last winter had been for Fíriel.

"It is my duty to defend the realm, I shall often be away for weeks, months…" he told her, taking her hands in his. "It is a cruel war that has been lasting hundreds of years, yet we have to keep fighting."

Shame made Fíriel wince. "I have stood on the walls of Minas Anor and watched my father and brothers leave for battle many times. I grew up in a city that faces Mordor and I have learned of the danger of the shadows long ago, when I was nothing but a young child… Thus, there is no reason I should be more afraid here than I was there."

"Indeed," said the prince, pressing a kiss on her temple. "Perhaps you do not yet feel home here, and that is why you are more distressed than you usually would be."

Arvedui was usually good at guessing what his soldiers felt, on the field, and he discovered he could put this skill to good use with his wife as well.

"I will toughen up, I promise." She wept no more, but she sought the comfort of his embrace.

"You are not alone, Fíriel," said Arvedui, stroking her hair. "My mother adores you, Meldis will always be by your side and even Cirion has gotten used to your presence in these halls and I daresay these three ought to keep you very busy. And once spring comes, we will travel together, we will visit Cardolan and Rhudaur, and Rivendell too."

That night, Fíriel did not get much rest, for she wanted to fully enjoy the warmth of her husband. It was strange, really, how she had so quickly gotten use to his presence, how she could barely imagine sleeping alone anymore. She thought Arvedui was right, she had not yet fully adapted to life in the north. Summer had chased away the gloominess of winter, her family had made her forget about her first difficult months in Fornost, but now that the sunny days were scarce and that her loved ones had returned to Gondor, she felt she was leaning on Arvedui more than ever.

He rose before dawn, but told the princess to remain in bed. There were some last-minute preparations that needed to be taken care of and he was to meet Fíriel when his departure would be imminent. It was a scenario he was familiar with, since wives usually came to see the soldiers when they left the city, yet he had not quite registered the fact that he had become the husband who would be sorely missed. Neither was he accustomed with the idea that someone other than his mother would be waiting for his return – he loved it, even though it grieved him a little to imagine Fíriel being pained because of him.

It was to the high gates of Fornost that Fíriel headed to bid Arvedui goodbye – and, officially, the King as well. Queen Gilwen had come with her and the princess tried to model her expression after her mother-in-law's. The Queen had lived through many short-lived victories, and even more sorrowful defeats, and she had learned to send away her husband and her son as peacefully as she could. And Fíriel reminded herself of the words the Queen had told her, before they had left the palace.

"Arvedui is a grown man. He is powerful warrior and a leader his soldiers would follow throughout the dark lands of Angmar if he asked them to. They even say his skills are quite unparalleled when it comes to sword fighting and that he'd be a match to the Witch-king himself… I believe this last bit is pure bragging however. What I wish to tell you, my dear Fíriel, is that decades have passed since his coming of age, yet he still is my child and even now it is painful to watch him go away. But I have my part to play and I have to pretend it is nothing more than pride I feel when he leaves for battle."

Queen Gilwen excelled at her role, smiling and waving at the people who had gathered along the streets of the city to catch a glimpse of the royal family. She proved even better when she faced Arvedui, exchanging with him meaningless formalities, as she had done so often – only her eyes gave away some of the fear she had to lose her son to a terrible war.

After having bid his mother goodbye, the prince turned to Fíriel, who stood next to the Queen. She looked a bit tired, but she put on a brave face – she would never display any sign of weakness in front of King Araphant. Arvedui bent down to kiss her forehead, for they had agreed on a very simple parting. The princess, however, caught him by the arm and whispered a few words in his ears. Whatever she said, it had a great effect on Arvedui and a broad, genuine smile suddenly spread on his face, as his grey eyes gleamed with a brand-new light. For a few blissful seconds, they were alone, caught in a world that only belonged to them.

To everyone's surprise, Arvedui kissed her, deeply and perhaps a bit too passionately – he did mess up her hairdo. There was nothing proper about it and the Queen averted her eyes quickly while the King gaped, offended, but the captains and the soldiers were quite entertained and it took them a lot of self control not to smirk. This kiss would be become the object of many discussions around campfires, although the prince would never reveal to anyone what the princess had said.

Fíriel had not told him much, yet it had been enough to fill his heart with unpreceded joy.

She had uttered three little words, "I love you".

"It was quite a charming display of marital love you and your bride gave us to see earlier," said King Araphant, some hours after their departure, as they were heading towards Weather Hills.

"Would you complain that I am happily married?" sighed Arvedui, tired.

He and his father bickered constantly since their Gondorian guests had left heir halls and the prince was convinced this tension was related to his happy relationship with Fíriel. It had become obvious to anyone dwelling in the King's halls that Arvedui and Fíriel harbored romantic feelings for one another, even though the two of them of were usually discreet. And King Araphant did not look favourably on his son and daughter-in-law's lovely complicity.

"No, I am not as cruel as you please yourself to believe," the King said, although there was something scornful in his tone.

"You have allowed her take part in our councils and you have also granted her free access to the palantír, thus, should I not gather that you have reconsidered your impression of her?"

"Now that I have met her mother, I suppose I should be relieved Fíriel does not take too much after her and I must say I am surprised the princess displays genuine interest towards our affairs."

"What did you expect, father? She was born a princess and she was raised by a king, a powerful one, whether you like it or not. She has long been acquainted with councils and ruling matters."

The King shrugged, dismissive. "I won't be bothered with it long, as it is only a temporary situation. Once she is pregnant, shall she not have other preoccupations than the way I govern my realm? Raising a child is no light responsibility and, if I remember well, it is quite time-consuming."

Arvedui frowned and he struggled not to respond too harshly to his father's taunting. "What do you truly fear, father?"

King Araphant gave no reply, his lips pursed and the weight of many years of hardship weighing on his brow.

"You should stop peering into the palantír, father," said Arvedui and his voice had become soft. "The shadows of Angmar have crept into your mind and into your heart, and they are twisting your thoughts."

"One has to face the darkness to defeat it and I would rather rely solely on myself, for these Gondorians are bound to disappoint us," whispered the King and, once more, it was a strong sense of foreboding who made him pronounce such words.

His father was old, Arvedui suddenly realized. In a few years, he would probably not be able to ride with his soldiers anymore. He was haunted too, haunted by the Witch-king he spent hours spying on, using the Stone, and he was haunted by his own failures. Mere years after he had ascended the throne, he had lost the lands King Araval, Arvedui's grandfather, had managed to reconquer from Angmar, with the help of the Elves of Lindon and Rivendell. Perhaps that was why King Araphant prized so highly the friendship of the Elven folk, believing only they could truly help him. And, deep down, there had been the hope to honour his forefathers' deeds all by himself – the alliance with Gondor meant he had begun to admit defeat.