A/N: One of these days I will stop writing chapters where visitors arrive and people wait on stairs to greet them, I promise.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was mid-afternoon when the hosts of Emyn Arnen and Minas Tirith arrived, passing through the city gates in a long file of horses and riders. Since it had been several years since the White Lady of Rohan had returned to her home, and it was an even rarer occurrence to see King Elessar and his Elvish queen, nearly every resident of Edoras stopped what they were doing to watch the procession up the main road.
Gúthwyn and Cobryn stood above the crowds on the stairs to Meduseld. "Do you have any idea what I should say to the children?" she hissed at him as she spotted Haiweth riding beside Éowyn.
Cobryn lifted an eyebrow. "The truth?"
"For the Valar's sake, I know that! But how? How would you say it, if you were in my shoes?" In her desperation, Gúthwyn was all but begging him. There was so little time left—she was supposed to tell the children tomorrow—and she still had not found the words.
Cobryn regarded her with sympathy, but just when she thought he was going to rescue her, he shook his head. "Not here. Not now," he murmured, looking around at the servants. "Tomorrow morning, when everyone is recovering from the feast."
"First thing tomorrow morning," Gúthwyn insisted. "I promised Legolas I would not delay."
Cobryn did not respond, and she realized that his attention had been caught by something below. Following his gaze, she saw Faramir riding with Elboron, the latter staring in a sort of stunned dismay at his new surroundings.
"Oh, he must not like the crowds, poor thing," she said. Elfwine had always delighted in being around others—especially when he was the sole object of their attention—but Elboron had a quieter disposition, and right now he seemed to be quite overwhelmed by the cheerful chaos. "I do hope the journey was not too tiring for him."
"He has grown," Cobryn murmured, half to himself.
As it had been six months since their departure from Emyn Arnen, and Elboron was now an astonishing three years old—where had all that time gone?—Cobryn was right, but Gúthwyn was more interested in how her friend's voice had softened as he spoke, and she made a note to arrange for plenty of reading sessions with her nephew over the course of the visit.
As the guests dismounted and made their way up the stairs, Éomer welcomed them, genial and gracious. At his side, Lothíriel smiled but did not speak; and while one hand rested on Elfwine's shoulder, the other twitched at her skirts, as if she did not know what to do with it. Such were the distractions of the moment, however, that Gúthwyn thought she might have been the only one to notice this.
Yet she, too, forgot about the queen, for Haiweth had followed Éowyn and Faramir up the steps and was now waving in her direction. "Gúthwyn!" she called, edging through the crowd.
When at last they were reunited, Gúthwyn pulled her into a tight hug, as if by doing so she could ensure that they were never parted again. "I have missed you, little one," she whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"I have missed you, too." Haiweth's words were sincere, and Gúthwyn could not help but feel relieved—she had wondered what kind of place she could hold in Haiweth's heart while the girl was in Éowyn's care, with all the temptations of Minas Tirith less than a day's ride away.
As they separated, she noticed that Haiweth was wearing a new riding dress, the fabric a beautiful forest green against which her hair gleamed like gold. What was wrong with your old one? she thought, but she did not want to ruin the mood by asking.
Haiweth and Cobryn exchanged greetings; then Haiweth stood on tiptoe, scanning the crowd. "Is Hammel here yet? He told me he was coming."
So Hammel could apparently manage to send a letter all the way to Emyn Arnen, but not to Edoras. No, that is not true, she caught herself. He writes to Aldeth. I am the only one he ignores.
Before she could tell Haiweth that Hammel would be arriving later that afternoon, a shadow drew over the girl's face like a curtain. "What is he doing here?" Haiweth asked stiffly, her eyes locked on someone over Gúthwyn's shoulder.
With a sinking feeling, Gúthwyn followed her gaze and saw Legolas, who was coming towards them. "He is visiting as well," she answered in Rohirric. "Éomer thought it would be nice if he were here for Elfwine's birthday celebration."
"And yours." It was half-statement, half-question, Haiweth's tone guarded. Gúthwyn did not have time to respond before Legolas reached them.
"It is a pleasure to see you again, Haiweth," he said in a gentle way that made Gúthwyn love him even more. How he tried with the children, though they scorned him and shunned him!
"Good afternoon, Prince Legolas," Haiweth answered dutifully.
"I hope you are well?"
Haiweth's eyes darted away from them both, in search of someone who might rescue her. "Yes, thank you."
With a light, yet reproachful touch against Haiweth's elbow, Gúthwyn said, "Legolas has also been doing well."
Haiweth realized her mistake and blushed, muttering something that sounded like, "That is good to hear."
"Gúthwyn tells me that you were in Minas Tirith recently," Legolas persevered.
Haiweth had begun to frown at his words when something else caught her eye. "That woman is here," she said in surprise. "Tauriel."
From the way she suddenly colored, Gúthwyn guessed that Tauriel had noticed she was being observed. "Yes, she arrived with Legolas."
Haiweth's frown deepened, and for once she did not hesitate to address Legolas directly. "I thought she was the captain of your father's guard. Should she not be with him?"
"She is allowed to leave her post on occasion," Legolas said, his smile betraying none of the unease that Gúthwyn felt. Of all the things for Haiweth to remember… what if she next asked why Tauriel had come to Edoras?
But before further questions could arise, there were shouts from several of the onlookers still gathered in the streets, and a new group of riders appeared: the company from Helm's Deep. Gúthwyn's heart nearly failed her when she spotted Hammel amongst them, his eyes sweeping the crowd—likely for a glimpse of Aldeth. He had not yet trained his poisonous stare upon her, but that would come soon enough.
"I thought they were coming later!" Haiweth cried in delight. "Oh, excuse me—" And she was off, hurrying down the steps towards her brother.
"Shall I absent myself?" Legolas murmured, his voice barely audible over the general commotion.
"I cannot imagine he will be eager to greet me even if I am alone," Gúthwyn said with a sigh, "but I do suppose it would be better if he did not see us together just now."
"He will have to grow accustomed to the sight eventually." But Legolas was not of a mind to argue, and his remark was uttered as he withdrew. Gúthwyn let out a slow, unsteady breath and turned to observe Hammel and Haiweth's reunion, which was quite animated—although Haiweth was doing most of the talking. After a moment, she reached for her brother's arm and gestured towards the stairs, but Hammel shook his head, his eyes narrowing as they made the briefest of contact with Gúthwyn's.
Haiweth persisted, and there followed a short, heated discussion, at the end of which Hammel extricated himself from his sister and walked off in the direction of the blacksmith's. Haiweth watched him go, threw her hands up in the air, and stalked back to Gúthwyn. "I tried," she said, her features twisted in an awkward grimace. "But he wanted to see Aldeth first."
Gúthwyn forced a smile. "Well, I can understand that. Thank you for trying."
"He is very…" Haiweth hesitated, though only for a few seconds. "He is very unkind to you. I wish I knew why."
Gúthwyn might have hugged her, but then she would have started crying. If Hammel would not even say hello to her, how was she to pull him aside tomorrow, let alone tell him about her and Legolas?
"It is wonderful to see you, baby sister!"
She barely had time to hitch another smile on her face before Éowyn wrapped her into a tight hug, leaning close and whispering, "Congratulations!"
"Thank you," Gúthwyn replied into Éowyn's shoulder, hoping beyond hope that Haiweth had not heard. "I can hardly believe it."
"You look much better." Éowyn's relief was evident as she gave Gúthwyn a thorough examination. "You were so unhappy before…"
Gúthwyn flushed. "Well, that is all in the past now." Turning to Haiweth and Faramir, who were both crouched to listen to Elboron's wide-eyed laments, she waved and said, "El, I am so glad you have come to visit us!"
Elboron regarded her with bewilderment. "Everyone talks different here," he announced, and then his face crumpled, providing only a few seconds' warning before he started to wail.
"It has been a rough journey for him," Faramir said, picking up Elboron and rubbing his back with a weary sort of patience. "He is not used to traveling so far."
Gúthwyn gave them a sympathetic look. "I am sure he will feel better once he has had some rest."
"So will we all," Éowyn said darkly, making Faramir laugh.
"Come, now, it has not been so terrible…"
Elboron blinked up at them, as if unable to comprehend how his parents could make light of his sorrows, and dissolved into tears once more.
"All right, Elboron, let us get you some food before naptime. How about that?" Faramir suggested. The only response was a low, drawn-out moan, which he evidently chose to interpret as a yes, and they began following the crowd indoors. Gúthwyn glanced back once, just once, and saw the back of Hammel's head as he spoke to a beaming Aldeth.
"Éomer said the announcement is not today," Éowyn whispered to Gúthwyn as they passed through the doors. "Why ever not?"
"Oh, well… we thought… well, I thought… perhaps it would be better timing. For Hammel and Haiweth," Gúthwyn stammered.
"Hm." Éowyn plainly did not believe her, but a glance over her shoulder at Haiweth and Faramir quelled the rest of her interrogation. "Lothíriel looks horrible," she said, changing the subject. "Faramir mentioned she was going to visit Amrothos—he did not die, did he?"
"No, it sounds like his condition has not changed. But she does seem…" Gúthwyn trailed off, not wanting to implicate Éomer. Now was not the moment for such a conversation.
Éowyn was quiet for a moment, then shrugged—Lothíriel's health was plainly of little consequence to her. "Well, baby sister," she said with more enthusiasm, "let us find Legolas, and then I want to hear everything about the night he came back. Have you given any consideration to your household?"
"Er, Legolas asked Tauriel to be the head of my guard," Gúthwyn replied quickly, trying to remember if any other decisions had been made. "And—oh! Cobryn is coming, too."
Éowyn's lips twitched in either amusement or exasperation. "I see we have some work ahead of us," was all she said.
Several hours later, two cloaked figures stood upon the landing, one shrouded in smoke, the other tall and still. Before them, Edoras and its surroundings gleamed silver in the moonlight, the distant mountains reaching up towards the stars. Behind, warmth and laughter spilled out of the open doors to Meduseld, and assorted groups of merrymakers were passing through to the feast within.
Aragorn lowered his pipe, expelling a stream of smoke into the air. "No sign of him?"
Startled, Legolas pulled his gaze away from the north. Aragorn was watching him compassionately, with no hint in his expression that he thought Legolas was a fool to still have hope.
"No," he admitted, his voice ringing hollow in his ears. "I expect he is having dinner in Dale by now."
"Perhaps he will come tomorrow."
Legolas shook his head—he knew Aragorn had spoken not because he believed what he was saying, but because he wished it for his friend's sake. "I told him it was tonight. He does not know it has changed."
Aragorn took a long drag from his pipe; the sound of his exhale was covered by a burst of laughter from passing revelers. "I am sorry, mellon nín," he murmured, briefly clasping Legolas's shoulders. "Your father is proud, and he grieves in his own manner."
"He grieves so much he would push me away."
"It is not logical," Aragorn agreed. "But neither is love."
Aragorn's words were reasonable, yet not enough to mend the hurt Legolas felt. On the one hand, he had never expected Thranduil to celebrate his betrothal… on the other, he could not imagine his father being absent on one of the most important days of his life.
"Has he said aught of the wedding?" Aragorn asked.
Another pang shot through Legolas's chest. "No, not a word."
Aragorn lowered his pipe and looked at him. "I will stand for you, if he will not," he vowed. "Tomorrow and in September, if need be."
Legolas did not think any language contained the words adequate enough to express his gratitude towards Aragorn in that moment, but he knew his friend did not need to hear them. "Thank you, Aragorn. The stars shone bright indeed upon our meeting." They clasped arms, and Legolas bowed his head close to Aragorn's, remembering how smooth the man's brow had been when they first met.
Aragorn, like Gúthwyn, would one day pass beyond his reach.
Such sorrow swept over him, he did not know what he would have done if a familiar roar had not blasted out into the night, interrupting the moment. "Aragorn! Legolas! Where have the two of you run off to? The ale is out!"
Legolas and Aragorn exchanged amused looks as Gimli appeared in the doorway, straining to see over a crowd of partygoers. "We are over here, my friend," Legolas called, saving him the trouble.
As the Dwarf hurried over, they saw that he was carrying two mugs in each hand, their contents sloshing over onto the flagstones.
The corners of Aragorn's mouth quirked. "Getting an early start?"
"So are you," Gimli replied, extending his arm and waiting for Aragorn to take one of the drinks. Then he turned to Legolas. "And especially you, laddie."
Legolas found himself smiling as he accepted the other mug.
"To Legolas!" Gimli crowd, raising the last two drinks he had reserved for himself. "And"—here he gave an exaggerated examination of their surroundings before dropping his voice to a soft boom—"to his charming lady friend."
They drank to his toast, Gimli finishing an entire mug in one go. Belching in satisfaction, he patted his beard dry and asked, "So where is she?"
"Getting ready for the feast," Legolas explained. Haiweth had gone with her, and he fervently hoped that Gúthwyn would reconsider and use the opportunity to tell the girl about their betrothal. His sense of foreboding had been growing all day, and Hammel's arrival had filled him with great unease. The boy had been polite enough under Éomer's watchful gaze when at last he reached the Golden Hall, but the air around him was thick with animosity, and Legolas did not like the way he had looked at Gúthwyn.
"I do not suppose Hammel has confided in you?" he said to Gimli.
Aware of what he was being asked, Gimli sighed and shook his head. "In all matters apart from blacksmithing, the lad keeps to himself. Trying to get information from him is like pulling teeth. But he gets a queer look in his eye if I mention Lady Gúthwyn, and there is ill will there, make no mistake."
"The lad is now a grown man," Aragorn pointed out. "It would be better for everyone involved if he found his own way. Gimli is right—I do not think Gúthwyn perceives the depths of his hatred for her. And you, my friend," he added, his eyes fixing upon Legolas, "I would keep a close watch on him, if I were you."
Legolas nodded. He hoped that would not be necessary tonight—Aldeth had passed by a few minutes ago, her cheeks flushed as she entered the Golden Hall, and with any luck her presence would be a distraction for Hammel. But tomorrow… he could not guess what would happen.
Sensing that Legolas was too troubled to reply, Aragorn bowed his head. "The feast will be starting soon. Shall we go inside?"
As the three of them passed into the warmth of the Golden Hall, the moon above slid behind a cloud, and Rohan was swathed in darkness.