A Note from Sun Queen: Hi everyone! Sorry this chapter took so long, my life has taken a turn for the busy. It's also pretty short, because I split up all the stuff that I'd intended to put in this chapter. Look for the next part in a few days.



I know the summary promises THREE mercenaries, but it is primarily Jaidru's story, and will remain so until much later. However, I will be introducing Selka after the next chapter, and Kharapel soon after. I promise! The summary didn't lie!



I should also mention that this story will have some angsty parts, like this chapter. It's only to be expected, because who can tell a life story and exclude all the parts that went wrong? The violence in the first chapter, and some mature subject matter throughout are the reason for the PG-13 rating. And in order to prevent Jaidru from suffering from an acute case of Mary-Sueness, she won't face everything with a brave smile and a song; we can't all be perfect, can we?



Cheers, and don't forget to review on your way out.





Chapter 3: Beth and Abby



It was quite obvious to me that my mother had always favoured Bethany.



My oldest sister was fifteen by this point, three seasons away from her marriage. I had always known my sister was engaged; had been, in fact, since her birth, but I had never asked to whom. At any rate, she was going to make a breathtaking bride.



My mother had been, in her prime, one of the most beautiful women in Minas Tirith. Tall and stately-slim, with curly hair that was such a clear brown that it flowed like water down to her hips. I can still see her, dressed in one of her expensive brocade gowns, diamond earings glittering, as she strolled sedately in the gardens or the hall. That was my earliest memory of her, a view from old Jai's strong arms. As the years wore on, the skin on her face wasn't drawn so tight, her body sharper and not so curvy, and streaks of white had begun to mar her glorious hair. Still stately, but more a matron than maiden.



But Bethany, ah! She was a mirror reflection of my mother in all her glory! The same silken roan hair, the same eyes, blue as cornflowers, a smile so dazzling that it set the sun to shame.



I too had inherited my mother's curly hair; long and glorious, but mine had darkened to a tawny shade from its original gold. My eyes were brown, not blue, and after the first of my child-teeth had fallen out, my adult ones had grown in crooked. At eight years old, I was convinced that I'd never become a beauty like my mother and sister.



Abigail was also comely, though not the radiant flower that Bethany was. Her face more resembled mine, wider and more open, with high cheekbones and dark eyes. Still, at thirteen summers, she attracted attention wherever she went, despite the fact that she too was engaged.



At any rate, the fall that I turned nine, Bethany got sick. Really sick. And I never had a clue.



All I noticed that autumn was that when I returned from a day's expedition, Jai would be there, shushing me, and hustling me off to the smallest dining hall, where Abigail and I would dine alone, without our parents.



I thought nothing of this for the first week. As I said, I had the tendency to ignore anything that wasn't a sign of something good and happy. But one night, at a particularly quiet meal, I screwed up my courage to ask The Big Question.



"Abby," I asked, "What's going on?"



Now, if I had been the Loud Sister, and Beth had been the Perfect Sister, Abby had been the Quiet Sister. Serious and clever, she heard and saw everything that went on in the Court. I had often heard her and Beth giggling over which young buck was in love with which maiden this week, and who was the real father of Lady Marrika's child?



At any rate, she stopped poking at her food, looked at me, and sighed. "Jaidru, you are the most self-absorbed child in Gondor, do you know? If you spent any time in the Court, you would know! And it's your own sister!" Suddenly, she burst into tears.



My eyes widened. I had never seen my sister cry.



"Bethany is sick, Jaidru. She has lung-rot."



Lung-rot! This was scary, this was bad. People died from lung-rot.



My plate smashed to the floor as I turned and ran from the hall. I barely heard Abby yelling to me to come back as I barrelled up the stairs towards Beth's chamber. The heavy door was shut, but I could hear murmurings within.



I slammed through the door and took in the horrifying scene: the room, sweltering hot, dark except for the massive fire that burned in the grate. My mother, her eyes crimson, standing pale and composed by the window, my father holding her hand. A Healer, the one who'd once set my broken wrist, standing in his white robes beside the carved canopied bed. And huddled under the covers, my sister Bethany, her beautiful brown hair glistening with sweat, her eyes bright with fever. Every few moments, a wracking cough would make her entire body shudder.



I froze in the doorway, unable to enter this hellish chamber. My mother turned towards me, accusation in her reddened eyes, and I spun and flew down the hall as fast as I could run, headed anywhere, any place but here.



**********

Now, a little test to see how well you've been paying attention. My sisters were both engaged, true or false? True. Now, when had they gotten engaged? Right after their respective births. Can you see what's coming?



My eldest sister died a fortnight later.



And I was officially screwed.









To Be Continued...