The Wild Westfold

By: Lauthica Green Clinkenbeard

Chapter Twenty-Eight: How the Sea Doth Twist and Turn

I sat down in the main hold of the ship on a hard, musty wooden bench. I held the sword I stole from the pirate in my fingers. I doubt it was made by their own culture. It was too fine of a weapon to be used by such a brigand. He must have stolen from some other poor warrior in their homeland or some village on their way to Gondor. Such a strange blade…the hilt was wrapped in a tight, thin skin that came from no animal I have known. It was encrusted with emeralds the size of a man's eye of a deep, creamy green. When held up into the light, the metal glittered and burned with a radiant fire of many colors like a rainbow. Instead of being straight, the blade curved and had a wicked, sinister taper on both sides. The blade itself was magnificent and made of fine craft and forge…but it felt so foreign to me as I gripped it with my fingers.

I can't believe I dropped my father's sword. Before it was my father's it was the sword of my grandfather's…and then his father's…and his before that. It had been an heirloom of honor in my family line since the founding of Rohan. It would have passed to my brother had he lived and I would have given it to my first born son. I lost it. What kind of soldier drops their sword in a mere trip up?

I heard the door of the hold swing open followed by swift footsteps on the stairs. Aragorn entered. He stood taller and looked in higher spirits than he had been of late.

"The sun is setting, the wind is more than fair, the current strong…" he said as he came over to me with a great smile on his face, "We will reach the docks of the city shortly after morning. Minas Tirith will not fall."

I looked up at him and returned his optimism with my own half-smile but said nothing. I looked back down at the sword with dazed eyes leaning forward with heavy, burdened shoulders. He sighed and sat down on the bench next to me.

"What is troubling you, Deya?" he asked. "I have not seen you so clouded since Helm's Deep."

"I lost my father's sword…" I said, barely above a whisper. His demeanor changed to concern, and he looked down at the sword in my hands.

"You claimed another sword that looks of a noble forge. A fine sword," He said. "Your father would have forgiven you, rest his soul."

I looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow, "You did not know my father and for that you are fortunate." I said.

Aragorn sighed again. He held out his hand toward the blade.

"May I?" He asked. I handed it to him. He gripped it in one hand and then gripped the hilt with both hands testing the balance and weight. "Is it the curve in the blade that intimidates you so?" he asked. I did not answer him. I was not going to admit to a king that I was suffering from weakness. I am supposed to be the strong one. Aragorn could sense my melancholy. He rested his hand on my shoulder.

"I have never seen such a blade with my own eyes." He said holding up so it would catch the light of the burning, oil lanterns hanging from the ceiling. "But I do recall something I read when I was a child. There is a vast land across the sea to the south where there is another kingdom that takes pride in horse culture, much like you're Rohan. The book spoke great tales of warriors with armor made of pure gold that fought fiercely from horseback with deadly curved blades that sparkled like diamonds on fire in the sun." he said as he turned and smiled at me. He handed me back the sword. "That blade will bring you a glory that they will sing about for generations."

"I don't have a horse anymore. Rohan is no longer mine…" I said sighing.

"Don't worry about Thenhines. He knows his way back home." He said.

"So, you are trying to make me feel better about using such a strange swords by telling about golden warriors on horseback, though I have no horse, and then you think I am worried about the horse?!"

Aragorn looked away and remained silent. I sighed again. I should not have been so snide. "I'm sorry. You were only trying to help." I said. "I have forsaken my country. I have forsaken my king…and I have forsaken my great love." I sighed and shut my eyes as pain radiated through my soul as Eomer's eyes flashed in my mind. Where they were once as blazed as the colors of my new blade they stared into me with disgust and disappointment.

"I was not offended. I should take what you have been through more into consideration. Sometimes I forget that you are a woman." He said.

I raised an eyebrow and stood up. I lifted the sword until the point was a few inches from his chest, "What is that supposed to mean?" I asked and my lips turned upward slightly in a playful smile. He too raised an eyebrow and stood slowly. He stared at me at first with a 'you cannot be serious' expression until he smiled as well and chuckled. He drew his dagger from his belt.

"Please keep in mind, my lady, we cannot afford to accidently wound one another on the eve of a great battle." He said.

"I won't make you bleed…but I may make you cry." I said and chuckled at him. He half laughed.

Aragorn moved first lunging forward. I watched his feet and knew that he was trying to folly me into believing he was charging, but planned to strike to the right. I gripped the sword and barely twitched forward to throw him off. As he began to lean to the right I stepped hard into his strike and met his dagger on the inner curve of the blade. He looked surprised, but only for a few seconds. He grunted and pushed against my blade trying to throw me back. I twisted the blade and the curve caught his dagger. I caught him off guard and he knew he either had to drop his dagger and yield or back away. He pushed his blade against mine and took several steps back.

I charged this time from the front. He dodged to the left. I spun on swift feet. The curve and light weight of the blade sliced through the air like it was butter.

"URGH!" he yelled out as he had to duck to avoid my side swing. I dropped to the floor and flung out my leg tripping him. He fell onto his back and I held the tip of the sword to his chin. He dropped his dagger and held up his hands smiling.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" he asked.

More footsteps came from the stairs.

"What the devil is going on down here?" Gimli asked as he and Legolas entered the hold. I lowered my sword and then held out my hand to help Aragorn back to his feet.

"Just sparring." He said as he stood catching his breath.

"I'd say you were losing." Gimli said chuckling as he leaned on his axe. Even Legolas's lips turned up in a smile. Aragorn sheathed his dagger.

"Enough jests," he said, "We should find some supper and get plenty of rest for the battle tomorrow."

"Supper?" Gimli asked, "What do you suggest? Chew the barnacles off the hull of the ship?"

"Surely there are provision stores and some kind of kitchen on the ship. Even grungy pirates have to eat and shit at some point." I said setting down the sword on a pile of wooden crates.

"I have a bit of Lembas bread left still." Legolas said reaching into the pocket of his tunic. Gimli, Aragorn, and I all looked at each with disgust at the thought.

"I will search the ship and try and fix something for us." I said. "Save your elvish bread, Legolas. Was may need it for our next journey. Go and rest, friends. Leave our meal to me."

I nodded toward them as I set the sword down on a pile of water barrels. I walked to the back of the hold chamber and found four doors. The first door opened into a smaller room that had several hammocks hanging from the walls. I searched around and found some bags of dried meat. I had no clue what kind of meat it was, but it was food. The next door was a storage pantry for dry goods. I found a bag of course, brown flour and some lard and salt. I found some potatoes and all kinds of colorful bags of spices. They were from no herb I had ever tasted, but they were fragrant. The third door yielded a store room full of wine, ale, and strong sprits. I could very well be all of our last days on this earth; I would come back after supper and bring a barrel out for us. The forth door was another room of hammocks but there was another small door in the corner in the floor. I lifted the door and found a ladder. I climbed down being careful of the supplies in my hands and found a small kitchen area.

I set the supplies down on a small preparation table and I found a large pot. I opened a window and threw out the seawater bucket, drawing it back up. I filled the pot with seawater and brought it to a boil after quickly making a fire in the stone pit. I softened the dried meat and drained it adding a large scoop of lard to the pot. I used my dagger to roughly chop the potatoes and added them to the lard with a hefty pinch of salt. I chopped the softened meat and then added whatever spices I felt like adding. It smelled good enough. Once the potatoes were brown and soft I added just enough wine to cover the meat and potatoes in bitter sweet glaze.

I found some rags and lifted the pot from the pit setting it on the table. I doused the fire and then carried the pot back of the ladder carefully. I walked through the hold and up the steps. Aragorn and Gimli were sitting on crates smoking their pipes. Legolas sat a few feet from them cleaning his duel blades.

"Bout time!" Gimli said snuffing out his pipe, "I'm starving."

I set the pot down on the deck and returned to the hold. I found a smaller barrel of ale and three horn mugs. When I returned to the deck Gimli had already helped himself and was chewing away. Aragorn was just now filling his bowl. Legolas was not interested, but I knew that to be Elvish custom. They were particular about what they put into their bodies, and he nibbled on his Lembas quietly.

I filled the horn mugs and handed one to Gimli and Aragorn and then filled one for myself.

"This is good a hearty." Aragorn said between bites. "You have a gift."

"I worked as a servant for many years. Cooking was but a small skill I was forced to pick up to survive." I said.

The rest of the meal passed mostly in silence. Gimli told a few jokes that had us all in good spirits. We retired to the room with the hammocks and I soon heard my friends snoring quietly and peacefully…well at least Gimli was snoring peacefully. I could not find rest.

It was not the thought of the battle to come that un-nerved me. My new blade was swift and cunning. I felt a childish excitement thinking about using it in the battle to come and how it would maneuver and cut. Tried to roll over to my other side hopeful to find a better comfort but the hammock was too thin and swung too much. I didn't feel like taking a tumble into Gimli's hammock below.

The boards of the hull creaked as the ship rocked gently back and forth. Every so often a salty breeze blew in through the open window. Perhaps it was the strange food in my belly or the ale in my blood but as the breeze passed over my hammock I heard the clashing of metal on metal. I lifted an eyebrow and sat up grabbing the sides of the hammock to stabilize it. I cocked my head to the side and focused on what I was hearing. The sound of the clashing swords grew louder followed by a blast of a horn. I glanced at my companions to see if they were hearing the same noises. No one stirred.

I gulped feeling slightly fearful. Had I gone mad? I carefully swung my legs over the side of the hammock and jumped down. Instead of the mildewed floorboards of the hold my feet met with tiles of polished black marble. I gasped and instinctively reached to my sheath but my long sword was gone and I left my new curved blade on the barrels. I looked up and around. The walls were made of white stone and formed tall archways and columns. Long curtains of a deep blue velvet billowed around the open windows. It was night. There was a large stone desk in the center of the room covered with books and maps. A regal chair as tall as a man carved from a dark wood and adorned with gold and silver etching. I crossed the room toward the desk and realized that there was a man sitting in the chair.

I froze unsure what was going on or what would happen. I took ginger steps on light feet until I rounded the desk and relaxed.

"Aragorn, you frightened me. I thought…" I said but stopped. He was sitting with his hand over his face as if in despair and did not look up at me. "Aragorn?" I asked.

I heard the clinking of armor and swift footsteps as a solider entered the study. Aragorn sat up at once as if trying to hide his sarrow and worry. I stared at him in shock. He was much older. His hair was completely grey and his face was covered with wrinkles.

"The King and Queen of Rohan have arrived, your grace." The solider said.

"The King and Queen? I invited only the King." Aragorn said sternly.

"Her Lady Lothiriel wanted to visit her mother city, your grace. King Eomer insured that she would not interfere with political business." The soldier said.

Lothiriel? Who the hell was Lothiriel? I thought feeling anger grow within my heart.

Aragorn sighed and sat back in the chair, "Very well. Send him as soon as he is settled and ready."

"He is already waiting outside the door, your grace." The soldier said. Aragorn looked at him confused at first but then he raised his hand and motioned to the solider to let Eomer enter. The solider nodded and a few minutes later an equally older Eomer entered the room. My heart fluttered inside me.

"Eomer?" I asked looking him over. He looked tired and weary. "Look at me Eomer!" I demanded. I realized then that they could not hear me nor see me. This had to be another one of Elrond's dreams.

"Eomer, you look well," Aragorn said as he stood a briefly embraced his fellow king.

"I look as well as you," Eomer said almost bitterly, "Spare me your courtesies. Where is she? Whatever politics you wish to discuss can wait, you know that. I must see her first."

"I know, old friend. She has always been your priority on every one of your visits over these long years. Fear not, you will see her, but…." Aragorn looked down away from him. Eomer reached out and grabbed hold of Aragorn's shoulders.

"What is it? Where is she? What has happened?" he asked desperately. Aragorn stared at Eomer for several moments and then he closed his eyes and let his head hang low.

"She is the political reason I asked you here." He said barely above a whisper. "Gondor's Horse Lady of Steel passed four days ago."

Eomer's face twisted up in pain at once. His hands left Aragorn's shoulders and went to his chest instead clutching hold of his fine green, velvet tunic. He cried out as tears formed in his eyes and he had to lean on the stone desk to stable himself.

"Why was I not informed at once!?' he asked shakily.

"You were the first to be informed. Not even the city knows of their fallen hero." Now it was Aragorn who rested his hands on Eomer's shoulders. "I am sorry. She will be missed by all of the west."

"She will be missed by me!" Eomer exclaimed shrugging away Aragorn's comfort. He turned his back to him and walked over to the window. He crossed his arms tightly and stood stern trying not to let his emotions consume him. "She was supposed to be with me…" he said in a broken voice. He turned back to Aragorn as tears fell freely down his cheeks. "She was supposed to sit next to me on a golden throne of horses, not rot away in the bowls of your stone prison."

"Eomer…" Aragorn said with hurt in his tone, "I did not force her to stay here. That was her choice. What could she have done? What could you have done? The secret you shared was exposed. There was nothing…"

"I WAS THE KING! I AM THE KING! I COULD HAVE DONE SOMETHING!" Eomer yelled walking briskly over to Aragorn leaning into his space. Aragorn knew that Eomer's logical thought was overtaken by his grief and did not react with anger.

"There was nothing you could have done. She lived a full life. She will be remembered for her strength and bravery and her dedication to duty." Aragorn said. "Come, I will take you to her."

As Eomer followed Aragorn out of the room I trailed behind them trying to piece everything together. Aragorn led Eomer to a door that was guarded and locked. He opened the door and then stepped to the side.

"I will shut and lock the door behind you. Take all the time that you need, but tomorrow morning I will make the public announcement. I would advise that you and your lady wife not attend the parade of the body through the city or the funeral. You have kept your secret from Lothiriel all these years don't throw it away now." Aragorn said sternly. Eomer nodded to him and hurried into the room. I followed behind him quickly before Aragorn shut the door.

The room was very cold and hundreds of bouquets of flowers and spices hung in bundles from the ceiling. Eomer gulped and his eyes glossed as fresh tears formed and trickled down the half-dried paths from his earlier outburst. He walked forward slowly as if the entire weight of the world pressed against him. The room was cascaded with thin linens dyed black. He pulled back one of the linen curtains and found what he was looking for.

A pedestal of black marble rose from the floor. Upon the pedestal laid a body covered with linens. His face twisted up again in pain and he openly and loudly wept as his hands tightened into white fists and his steps became shaky. When he reached the pedestal he gently lifted back the linens.

"Deya….." he said barely above a whisper as he fell to his knees and screamed out in pain.

I had already figured out that they had been talking about me back in the study, but seeing myself lying there cold and still struck me to my core. I approached Eomer and I reached out for him. My hand passed right through his shoulder. I pulled back and circled around to get a better look at myself lying dead on the pedestal. Eomer had reached out and clutched the hand of the body to his cheek still weeping.

I examined my dead self. I was older as well. My hair was grey and had only flecks of crimson. My face was hard and stern. The scars stood out more than ever surrounded by the wrinkles and lines in my skin. I was in my Rohhiric breast plate but my shoulder guards were shiny and silver and embossed with the white tree of Gondor. The chainmail under my armor was both brass and steel to look like gold and silver as was the metal skirting attached to the breastplate. The curved sword I had stolen from the pirate was in my hands that were clasped on its hilt and crossed on my chest. I walked around to the front of the pedestal to read the plaque.

"Déorwyrdhnes II. Horse Lady of Steel to Gondor. Head of War and Peace Counsel to Aragorn II King Elessar. Lady of Eternal Virtue and Grace. Loved and Feared Like a Mother by All Who Looked Upon Her Emerald Eyes and Crimson Hair of Godly Fire."

Lady of virtue and grace meant no husband….Loves and feared like a mother by all meant no children….Is this truly to be my fate? To die alone serving Aragorn King in Minas Tirith? While Eomer lived an empty half-life in Edoras with his political wife? I looked back over at him. He remained on his knees bawling like a child while pressing my dead hand against his cheek only now he was gently rocking back and forth. I sighed and I walked back around the pedestal and through the linen curtain. I walked through the locked door and found Aragorn sitting on a stone bench next to a young man. The young man looked like he had been crying as well.

"Your mother lived a full life, Renduil. One that you and your father's people will sing of and praise for centuries." Aragorn said to him putting his hand on the youth's shoulder.

I raised an eyebrow. Mother? Was this my son? Why was he not on the plaque? Who was the father?! I hurried over to get a better look and my eyes widened in horror. The young man had my high cheek bones and crimson hair but his ears were pointed. He was Elven. My heart pounded with disgust. How could I ever lie with any man other than Eomer?! How could I lie with an elvish man?! Why did the plaque not speak of this?! ELROND! SHOW ME THE MEANING OF THIS MADNESS!

I gasped and sat up in the hammock with such fervor that it nearly tipped over. Sweat was pouring off of my brow as my heart pounded wildly in my chest. I heaved in several deep breaths trying to calm myself. I looked around. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli had already risen and left the room. I jumped out of the hammock and threw open the door. I ran through the hold stopping only to pick up the curved sword from the barrels. I hurried up the steps and pushed over the doors of the hold rushing onto the deck. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon.

"ARAGORN! LEGOLAS! GIMLI!" I yelled out as I rushed down the deck. Aragorn appeared quickly from the other side of the ship.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked.

"Elves…" I said as I tried to catch my breath. "Why elves?...What elf?"

"Deya," he said grabbing hold of my shoulder, "What nonsense are your speaking? What has happened?"

"I saw him…I saw….I saw…." I stuttered.

"Saw who?" Aragorn asked.

"I saw my son. My son was an elf!" I exclaimed and I felt my eyes water.

"What?" Aragorn asked

"My son…..my son…." I said raising a hand to my eyes. Aragorn remained confused but he gently embraced me.

"It's alright, Deya." He said in a soothing voice, "It was just a bad dream. Your sons or daughters will be of Rohan. Do not fret so, my lady."

"You lie! I saw it! Elrond….why would he want me to see such a thing?" I asked looking up at him.

"Elrond?" Aragorn asked giving me a funny look. He gently took hold of my face and examines my eyes. "How much ale did you drink last night?"

I sighed. I couldn't blame Aragorn for his reactions. To him I probably seemed like a raving old crone. I pushed him away gently.

"I'm sorry," I said, "It was just a dream. I overreacted and I apologize." I turned away from him and headed back toward the hold. I wanted to wash up and splash some cold water in my face. Minas Tirith could be less than an hour away and I had to get my head into battle.

"My lady?" Legolas asked as he appeared coming up from the hold stairs. "I heard you yelling what is wrong? I looked for you."

"It was nothing. I had a bad dream and I was just a little shaken." I said.

"A dream? On the eve of a battle for the history books? Do you think it could have been foresight?" he asked.

I stared at him and did not answer him right away. I knew it was foresight, but if I told him about Elrond he too would look at me as Aragorn had.

"No," I said sternly, "It was a flashback of my childhood, nothing more." I started to walk pass him but he stopped me gently grabbing my wrist.

"I heard you say something to Aragorn about your son. You could not have had a son in childhood. You can always speak honestly and freely with me, Deya. I am and will always be your friend." He said.

I pulled my wrist away from him, "I have already spoken that it was nothing. Put your worry past you. I have more pressing matters to worry about as should you." I walked briskly from him and down the stairs to the hold. I practically ripped off the top of a water barrel and dunked my hands in bringing the water to my face. I exhaled in relief and leaned over gripping the side of the barrel with white knuckles. The young man's face burned into the back of my mind.

"Deya?" I looked up from the barrel. Aragorn stood on the top few steps of the stairs to the hold. I stood and wiped my face on my sleeve.

"Yes?" I called up to him.

"The plume of smoke from the siege of Minas Tirith is approaching."