The newlyweds were being woken up by a knock on the door of Aragorn's chambers far too early the next morning, which raised the worry that the catastrophe expected on the prior evening had now happened after all.
Aragorn immediately threw on the next best thing he could find, which turned out to be Arwen's cloak from last night and ran outside. He eyed Faramir questioningly who took a step back apologetically, trying to keep his eyes off his leader's slightly sloppy appearance.
He couldn't bite back a mischievous, tiny grin, though.
"I'm sorry for bothering you so early, today of all times." The Steward looked like he'd only just crawled out of bed himself, with messy hair and a wrinkled tunic. Maybe the bliss of yesterday's wedding had finally provided him and Éowyn with the necessary nearness again as well. "Your last elvish guest wants to leave before the sun has even really come up. I thought you would want to know."
Startled, Aragorn hurried to the window facing the courtyard and saw Tarisilya standing next to Tercelborne, together with Thondrar and Glorfindel.
The two elves were helping her fasten a few bags and a small cage with two Gondorian carrier pigeons to the saddle. It looked like Glorfindel had prepared Asfaloth for a long journey as well.
Feeling Aragorn's eyes on her, Tarisilya waved at him briefly. Not terribly cheerfully, but it was apparently supposed to signal him that she wouldn't go without a goodbye. Given he would hurry.
Aragorn tiredly rubbed his forehead. "I'll be right there, Faramir, thank you."
He rolled his eyes when his Steward nodded to the side of his neck in slight amusement where there had to be more than one non-ambiguous reddened spot showing. "And yes, I'll be wearing a high collar, thank you."
On his way back to the bedroom, he grabbed the clothes that Arwen's handmaiden had laid out for her lady here even before sunrise. He spread them in front of his wife on the bed and sat down next to her with a sigh, giving her a quick kiss. "Ilya wants to leave."
The smile that Arwen had welcomed him with was gone immediately. "That's far too dangerous, and she knows."
"I'm afraid, she's suppressing that best as she can right now." Aragorn dressed as quickly as possible and helped Arwen lace the back of her dress.
With a kiss to her neck, he stepped back and handed her a hair tie so that she could tame her still slightly messy curls. "Maybe you can achieve something. She tends to listen to you more than to others."
"I'll try." Arwen shrugged, not very convinced. They both knew only too well how stubborn the other she-elf could be.
When they entered the yard and Arwen spotted her friend, she couldn't keep a certain silent reproach off her face that she'd already let Tarisilya see once before.
No matter where Tarisilya so suddenly felt that she wanted to go to: She was getting herself and therefore her child in danger. She had already pulled something like that the night when Aragorn had been assassinated and Legolas had been missing. That Thondrar had been injured so badly back then had only been possible because he had wanted to protect her. And now, again, she was dragging elves into something that might be just as absurd as her trip back then.
An unasked question on her lips, Arwen waited with Aragorn at the entrance of the White Tower for the other she-elf to join them.
Tarisilya visibly tried to not let the critical looks unsettle her, in vain. "I'll be back in a minute."
"You shouldn't tarry if you don't want to have the eyes of the whole city on you," Thondrar warned her.
"It won't take long."
But no, it wasn't easy for Tarisilya, explaining to her King and to Arwen what made her do this. "Legolas wants me to leave," she said hesitatingly. "He wants me to be far away from every danger, in Lórien, until I'm giving birth."
"I don't need haruni's gift to know that your path won't lead you there immediately. Do you even realize the kind of danger such a long journey means for you right now? Where are you really going?" Arwen had a hard time not sounding as angry and frustrated as she was.
Judging by how Tarisilya's posture just stiffened, by how she thrust her jaw forward defiantly, there was no doubt, her friend wouldn't let anyone keep her from this idea.
"I'll decide that for good once we arrive in Edoras. That will be our first rest." Tarisilya stared yearningly into the distance; her thoughts were with Rohan already. "From how it looks, the woods of Lórien are indeed waiting for me. While I know about the pain that the sight of their emptiness will cause me, they're currently still the safest place of all. But as soon as I get the chance, my true destination is the realm of the Woodland Elves. I need to …"
She paused. "Not here. There's always someone listening here. Legolas doesn't know that I'm headed for Eryn Lasgalen, and I'm asking you not to tell him either. I need to deal with this alone first."
"You're looking for help in the eye of the storm," Aragorn remarked, audibly skeptically. His voice was trembling, his mind without a doubt tortured as well by the memories of his last journey to the west. Back then, Tarisilya had been pregnant as well. "I appreciate it more than you can imagine that you want to take this big step, and in your current situation of all times. But I'm afraid, the elf that you're seeking talks with has long forgotten how to listen. Even if it's about his own family."
"Maybe I haven't known said elf long enough yet to give up so easily," she answered bitterly.
"And my current situation is exactly why I need to try. If I don't do anything, I won't be able to thrust my child into my husband's arms with a smile on my face. In his eyes, I would always see the blood of the people that he wants to kill in his blind hate. My heart pulls me towards the west, Aragorn. Legolas and I are growing apart, and I just can't find a way to change anything about that without that rift growing even deeper. I'm starting to think about taking their father from my child for at least the next few decades; that's how big the distance between us has become. If it takes a ride through half of Middle-earth to make sure, my baby will have both parents by its side, I'm putting my fear in the background. The most legendary warrior of this world will watch over me on the way while his son will keep his attentive eyes on my husband. I just need to make sure, the Stewardaides will learn about my disappearance as late as possible. If Erestor is right, I'm being watched far too closely for my taste. Your father or your brothers would have come with us, Arwen, but the Lord and I attract the least attention when we're alone. Instead, his Majesty Éomer has assured me an escort, which means, once we reach Rohan, I'll be twice as safe. Nothing will happen. Be assured that a letter from me from the journey will reach you as often as possible."
Arwen couldn't suppress a cynical snort. "And a few written words are supposed to calm us down? Injuries from a possible attack are not the only thing that can become a danger for the child. Now of all times, you want to get involved with this matter, when you should avoid getting upset? And what if you'll feel dizzy on the way? If you fall off your horse and then there won't be a healer near you?" Arwen clenched her teeth because Tarisilya cast all these arguments aside as well. There was nothing left of that closeness from last night. She made a move already to angrily run back up the stairs.
That Aragorn gently held her back, quietly saying her name, only annoyed her even more. "I hope you don't expect me to watch my friend ride right into danger for a second time."
Aragorn motioned Tarisilya to wait for a moment and led Arwen a few steps aside before pulling her into a firm embrace, making use of it that the inner courtyard was as good as deserted. "She'll be leaving, whether you want it or not. At least show her that we'll be thinking of her, in friendship and love and not in anger. Anger has already destroyed far too much." He whispered it right into her ear, so quietly that even the other elves would have a hard time understanding him.
"I just fear so much for her … for both of them." Arwen buried her face in his tunic, tightly clenching her hands around it. "If …"
"I know." Aragorn tenderly kissed her hair. "And she knows too. This will weigh down on her during the whole journey. It won't help anyone if you have another fight before she leaves, no matter how hard it is for you to worry so much."
Only when Arwen relaxed, he let go of her, nodding respectfully when she went back to Tarisilya.
"Forgive me." Arwen tried to fill her voice with confidence that she had long lost.
Tarisilya seemed grateful anyway. It was almost irony that on a day of leaving for the unknown, her posture was suddenly more relaxed than in the last few weeks. It was obvious that she had finally made a decision that she had been running from for too long. "Have you seen Conuiril anywhere?"
The question became obsolete when a sharp hiss sounded from the King's House and a white something shot out of a servant's entrance like a flash, followed by the dog of some court lady who was about four times the cat's size and obviously looking for breakfast.
"Conuiril! Come here!" Tarisilya tried in vain to get the attention of the animal that always only obeyed when it felt like it. She looked at Glorfindel, offended, who was suddenly conspicuously busy with Asfaloth and apparently saw no reason to take care of the third fellow traveler as well.
Arwen was just about to separate the opponents when a third animal joined the fight, yapping.
Arwen already opened her mouth to call Fain off as one dog chasing the cat was definitely enough, but her loyal companion jumped in front of Conuiril with one leap and growled at the other dog warningly. Both animals barked aggressively, then Fain jumped forward again.
Once the other animal realized that it had to yield to the far bigger, black and white spotted wild dog, it ran off with a whimper.
Conuiril ran to her owner and allowed Tarisilya to pick her up, still trembling all over her body.
Tarisilya laughed heartily, for the first time in a while. "Maybe we should see that as a good sign, Arwen."
When she put Conuiril down on the ground next to Fain to pull the cinch tight, it was Arwen's dog though who snapped at the cat. Just once, without actually catching her, then he just turned away and left.
"It seems, someone just wanted to make it clear that no one is allowed to harm his cat."
Chuckling, Arwen picked Conuiril up and sat her down on the saddle. "You're safer up here than with the big bad dogs. Your nana will take care of you, right?"
"Always."
Becoming serious again, Tarisilya turned to Arwen and grabbed her lower arms. "I know how difficult this period is for you, as well. So I'm leaving with a promise to my King and my Queen: Once the shadow over Legolas' and my future finally dissolves, I'll come back. In the meantime, please accept the protection that His Majesty and his people are offering you, no matter how deadly your own sword is. I don't want to be hit with the news of black flags of grief in Gondor while I'm on my way."
"Right now, you're the one I worry about, Ilya. But don't fret; I'll take care of myself. Aragorn won't allow anyone trying to harm me to even get close."
Arwen couldn't stop herself from hugging Tarisilya for a moment though such intimacy was actually unusual for her folk, safe for family members, and though she actually knew, her friend didn't appreciate it much. But on this morning, Arwen needed it herself.
Only once the gesture had been returned, after a short moment of hesitation, she went to stand next to Aragorn again. "Now go before I order the gates to be closed so that you have to stay. After all, I have to get used to my role as a Queen."
"Estel." Glorfindel waited for Aragorn to join him who knew his old friend's plain way of talking very well and could tell even from that one word that he had something important to say to him.
"We may not get there in time. I am talking to the walls here. The feud in Gondor can only be ended by either His Majesty or his son."
"Unfortunately, I doubt that the only one, Legolas might listen to, is even interested in what's going on here," Aragorn replied, more irritated than planned. "We received encouraging words from the other elven realms again and again, along with their assurance that they'll stay out of this because they understand Gondor's decision. Only Eryn Lasgalen has fallen silent. He won't come. And if he does, I doubt he'll come to help."
"After your mother's death, you were never given the chance to feel the support of a blood relationship again. Watch and learn." With just a few sentences, Glorfindel made one feel like a clueless child again and again. "In the meantime, please give us the one thing I hope you can provide: time."
"I'll do what I can. It's just as unlikely that Legolas will even listen to me though."
"He will." To Aragorn's surprise, Glorfindel handed him a thick roll of parchment. "If not, show him these. Thondrar's and my notes about our observations at Cair Andros in the last few months. It might be the last way to keep the Prince in check before he can provoke a preemptive strike. But be careful with this advantage."
"Thank you." Aragorn accepted the documents only reluctantly because he hated making even such a small step of warfare when it was about one of his best friends. He bowed his head in respect. "Until we meet again."
After the three of them had passed the gate to the sixth level where Thondrar said goodbye to his father with a bow just as brief, Aragorn followed Arwen back to his chambers. Just like that, he was being lost in all those thoughts again that had been forgotten last night. His hand clenched around the parchments that he so badly wanted to throw into the fire unread, just so he never had to learn what some persons up north were being up to that he actually called his second family.
Arwen gave him a tender kiss and toll the roll from him. "Don't read it, not now. If you think, we already need to know what Legolas plans, let me take a look. If it's so grave that you need to know, I'll tell you. If it can wait until everything else has failed, don't burden your heart with this knowledge. I can't stand seeing this grief in your eyes."
Aragorn was at a loss. At last, he took the parchment back but locked it up in the same drawer that he had got the bracelet for Arwen out from last night. He pulled the key out of the lock and carefully caressed the jewel on Arwen's wrist with his fingertips. Just for a few seconds, he indulged in the beautiful memories that felt already like something long gone, sad as it was.
"Keep it until I find the strength to open the seal. Right now, I don't know how I would react."
Arwen closed her fingers firmly around the small brass item. "Maybe I won't even need to give it back to you. It's still possible, Legolas will realize himself that his child shouldn't be born in a time of such conflict."
"Given his current fanaticism, I don't dare to hope so. When he was an elfling, he didn't know anything but war and death either as you know. Mirkwood doesn't fear conflict when it's under attack." Aragorn briefly caressed Arwen's cheek, grateful that she was trying to cheer him up.
Nuzzling against his palm, she pressed a kiss to it. "Becoming a father yourself can change so much. Who knows, Estel? Come on now. The same duties, as usual, are waiting for us, in spite of everything. We should have breakfast, or you'll have to make your advisors wait."
"Bold of you to assume, they wouldn't sit down with us just so that we don't lose any time," Aragorn said with a good-natured eye roll.
At least the two of them could still make jokes; that was all he could expect right now.
"Another letter, child of the moon?" Slowly enough to not startle her, Glorfindel came to stand behind Tarisilya who was so busy with parchment and ink that she hadn't even realized how far the sun had already traveled the sky.
"Since we ran out of carrier pigeons, that wouldn't make much sense, would it?" She put the parchment in one of her traveling bags with an embarrassed smile and let her companion help her up.
"Just a memory that has been haunting me since last night, of a book that I read in Lord Elrond's library a long time ago. The Book of the Watcher. You must know, I'm sure … Erestor's legacy. The idea has always fascinated me. Maybe I'll give writing a shot myself one day."
A shadow of unexpected pain darkened Glorfindel's face. Due to him spending the last few months at Cair Andros, he actually couldn't even be informed about Erestor's weird feigned betrayal in the open street.
But maybe he was one of the few people that Lord Elrond had told about this, in a moment of silence.
Other than that, the Lord had asked Aragorn at the wedding for discretion as well, visibly shaken; he'd asked him very insistently to wait until someone could talk to Erestor in person next.
When it came to the librarian, the distance that both the Lord and Glorfindel had built to other people in the course of their millennia was crumbling every time; it wasn't the first time for Tarisilya to witness it. Glorfindel's lack of patience in particular for whatever his friend was planning was plain to see. "He never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me. That is entirely against his nature."
"I guess," Tarisilya agreed, with a calmness that surprised herself. The problems between Legolas and her had pushed that thing with Erestor completely to the background. That insane elf better kept out of her sight for the time being, but she just didn't have any strength for being angry with him right now.
"In fact, I start to feel sorry for him. That's probably why I feel the urge right now to make notes about all of this as it was his job for so long. Erestor had doubts about this whole thing in Gondor from the start. He should have left for the west with the others; he's long wanted to anyway. Then he would never have been caught up in this whole thing with the Stewardaides. It's not only his fault. Lord Elrond is surely right when he says that what Erestor is doing wrong right now shouldn't overshadow how much he did for the world of elves. He probably couldn't care less, but it can't hurt if someone else takes over at least the role of the Watcher until he's being in his right mind again. What matters more though is that it helps me to look at things from the outside and to put them on record."
"If he is to survive this quest, he will definitely appreciate it. This Book of the Watcher has been his companion ever since he came of age."
Nodding at the horses, Glorfindel signaled her that it was time to carry on. In such unstable times, lingering in one place for too long was dangerous. Tarisilya's condition was already forcing them to cover this stretch of the road far slower than a troop of riders would usually have risked it as it was.
It was probably only the promised escort from the capital of this realm that had headed them off a few hours ago and that was patiently keeping watch nearby, that stopped Glorfindel from constantly pushing Tarisilya to choose a faster speed.
"Edoras is already within sight."
Tarisilya could see a silent question in Glorfindel's bright blue eyes that she still didn't have an answer for and hurried to get back to the soldiers which gave her the excuse of secrecy. She knew very well that it was time to make up her mind. That she would very soon have to tell Éomer – who had left Minas Tirith just a few hours after they had, taking a far straighter road than this one so that he had probably already reached his home a few days ago – where his people were supposed to take her next.
It would probably have been better to avoid detours. That they were running out of time, she would have known without Glorfindel's warnings, too. But especially because so much depended on this conversation in Eryn Lasgalen, Tarisilya couldn't risk it, not being prepared for it well. Seeking Lady Galadriel's advice first made more sense to her. After all, her former foster mother was experienced in confrontations with certain stubborn elven rulers. No matter how little Tarisilya felt like entering woods that mirrored the epitome of evanescence: It seemed, that was exactly what would happen.
Glorfindel accepted her silence, the same way he had accepted it the whole time that she was too lost in thoughts of recent events to share them with him. But he seemed clearly relieved when not too long afterward, their group was approaching the hill that the capital had once been built on, and the golden glow of the palace at its top.
The soldiers insisted on keeping on accompanying their charge, all the way across the broad streets, ever until King Éomer would personally be able to take care of Tarisilya.
There was one advantage to that over-protectiveness: Tarisilya could send the men ahead to announce her arrival at the palace and ride straight to the meadows behind the building. That she was being welcome here, she had no doubt about: The warmth that the people had just greeted the elves in Rohan's capital with was a relief, especially after the rejection she had recently witnessed in Minas Tirith again and again. And the simple, cozy, colorful wooden houses lining the roads, all those stables, the children and the animals in the streets … With its simple way of life, far from Gondor's stiff etiquette, Rohan was a place that Tarisilya felt more at home in than on every single day of the last few months.
With her soul finally feeling a little lighter, she could approach the huge paddock that she had already spotted her mare on from a distance, with a smile of anticipation.
"It would be more decent to say hello to His Majesty first," Glorfindel noticed, amused.
"He'll forgive me. Believe me, there is no one on Middle-earth who understands better than him how much you can miss a beloved animal."
Every politeness forgotten for the moment, Tarisilya dismounted and just started to run; she'd been yearning to finally wrap her arms around Manyala's neck again for far too long.
That was why her disappointment was even bigger when she stopped at the fence and the animal hardly even looked at her. The mare turned to her current partner instead – Éomer's horse – and rested her head on his back, enjoying the evening's last sunbeams. Tarisilya should have remembered how intelligent a Mearh was, that they had a very good memory. Manyala was offended because Tarisilya had ignored her so much at their last meeting.
That was nothing, she could solve in five minutes. Éomer had grown very dear to Tarisilya's heart. She had no right to keep him waiting.
With a sad look on her face, she wanted to turn away already when she saw, from the corner of her eyes, a small movement between Manyala's body and the dark grey shape of her partner. A movement that turned out to be a whirlwind on four long, spindly legs. A quite small foal that sneaked through between its mother's legs and ran to Tarisilya with a thin neigh.
Manyala let out an irritated snort and came after her daughter immediately. But when she saw that Tarisilya was holding still and made no move to approach the little one without permission, she paused. Still looking skeptical, she came to the fence and nosed her owner's shoulder roughly.
"I'm so sorry, my girl." Tarisilya carefully put her hands on the horse's head, letting it feel all the love for it in her soul, and how much she'd been worrying about Manyala. "I didn't forget you, I promise. When we last met, I was just very sad, you know? Now everything is alright."
The answer was another snide snort. Manyala knew her owner better than many others did. She felt when something was far from being alright. At least she stepped away from the paddock gate so that Tarisilya could slip through it without risking the cheeky foal escaping, that immediately stuck its head through the narrow gap.
"Look at you, beautiful." Tarisilya knelt down next to the young animal and caressed its head in delight, its thin neck, the slender body that reminded her of its mother's figure. Before she had finished the thought, it was the little one now who hit her in the side, as if it wanted to agree to its mother's opinion; which proved that it had Manyala's temper as well.
"I hear you, guys. I won't leave you alone so quickly this time." She would have loved to tell Manyala that she would be taking her with her but she didn't want to tear such a young foal away from its mother. And maybe afterward, Manyala would have got so used to the life here … Tarisilya quickly suppressed that thought. Right now, she really didn't need anything else to make her sad.
"She doesn't have a name yet." Éomer had appeared on the other side of the fence, probably to personally get her inside the palace.
"I'll think about it." This time, Tarisilya just climbed over the fence, too impatient to fumble around with the heavy gate again.
"Is it getting worse again?" Frowning, she pointed at Éomer's arm that lay in a supporting sling.
Maybe she'd been too optimistic about the progress regarding this fracture after all. Today, the pain seemed to be so bad that the King had only managed to get into a wide shirt instead of a government tunic. The bow that he greeted her with looked stiff as well.
"Sometimes. Especially when the worries about the realm become too big once more. It's good to see you again so quickly, Princess. Lord …" Éomer briefly bowed to Glorfindel as well.
"Come on. A well-laid table is waiting for you. This time, there won't be a feast though. Both Rohan's brave soldiers and the Steward's Rangers are still busy with reconstruction and with hunting hostile orcs out there. In times of such hardship, a King shall not show debauchery. The wind that's been blowing from Gondor to Rohan in the last few months is too cold and cutting for that, too."
"I wasn't expecting merriment and dance. This is not a pleasure visit." Tarisilya couldn't have stood taking part in any kind of celebration right now anyway. "Let's talk about the future."