12: Minas Tirith(at last!) [does anyone know how to say 'Smellathon' or 'smelly' in Elvish? Cos I don't]

The white city was up ahead. I could see it gleaming in the light, shining in the coming dawn. We could have got there, ahead of schedule, in less than a day.

Unfortunately, we are delayed by something we're not sure how to deal with.

Galadriel's white horse has severe diarrhoea.

No one knows exactly what it ate. It started sometime in the night, and at first, everyone was just avoiding her because the animal was emitting very bad smells, but then it became solids. No one will go near Galadriel and the pony, not even Galadriel, and she is begging to swap horses. I don't have a horse because I'm not important enough to have one, but if I did, then I would not give it to her anyway.

We've had to stop a while to see if Elrond is as good the vet as he is the Healer of Men. Great, another delay.

"It's no good." He said, inspecting the pony's rear. "I don't know anything about horses. I don't think it will be able to make the journey."

"But we can't just leave it!" cried one elf.

"Perhaps someone could look after it for me," said Galadriel slyly, "and I could ride someone else's horse, of course, if they don't mind."

"Great idea!" exclaimed Elrond, "Who will volunteer to look after to look after Lady Galadriel's sick horse?"

As if anyone will even DARE to respond to that.

Once again, Elrond had to choose a volunteer. He searched into the crowd, looking for anyone suitable, or easily intimidated. I shied purposely out of his view. I remembered the last time he 'volunteered' me.

But no avail.

"Haldir!" he cried out, he had spotted me. "My good friend. Surely you would do a favour for your former mistress?"

Why ME? WHY ME? Why is it always ME?!

I stammered pleas weakly, motioning to my banner.

"Oh, that's alright. You can hand your banner to Orondil. I'm sure he won't mind."

He took my flag and gave it to Orondil.

"Thanks a lot." The other elf muttered angrily when he walked past to collect it.

Galadriel handed me the reins of her white pony, which gave a small burp. I caught the faint whiff of cheesecake on its breath.

"But now I have no horse," she whined, "and I need a WHITE one. I need to maintain my image." She was dressed in a shimmering white gown, with white braids in her hair, a pale circlet on her head and a silver waistband around her middle. I supposed that a golden chestnut pony was out of the question.

"But not many here have white horses." Said Elrond. He looked around. The only nobles to have white horses were Erestor, Nariel, and Glorfindel.

Someone had to give up their horse; and Nariel was only a handmaiden while the others were lords and lady.

I watched as they took her pony away and gave it to Galadriel. She let them do so without question, but I could see she was a little hurt inside. She must have really liked that pony.

Now she had to walk like the rest of the lowly minions.

*

After the white pony I dubbed 'Smellathon' had answered her (many) calls of nature, I took its reins and caught up with Nariel. She was walking beside her sister, riding a grey mount. I avoided Marien's eyes and turned my attention to Nariel instead.

"You need not look at me like that Haldir." Said Marien matter-of-factly to me.

I smiled sheepishly. "Look like what?"

She looked ahead, "I sorry about hurting you like that, but please don't take it to heart. I don't mind if you like my sister."

I looked at Nariel, who was blushing furiously.

"Marien, we're not . . . we aren't, we haven't . . ." she stammered.

Marien smiled at no one in particular.

"Contrary to my sister's diary, I am not a poor deluded fool. I am compassionate, Haldir. More than my sister would have you believe." She never looked at me when I talked, as if she was above me. I wondered for I moment if I was really that far down in the hierarchy.

"Come on." Said Nariel to me, taking my hand and leading a confused me away from a smarting Marien. I pulled Smellathon after me and the three of us went forward to somewhere more private.

"Sorry about the horse." I said.

"It's alright. We still have this one, don't we?" she said smiling tauntingly at me.

Smellathon chose this time to produce some disturbing odours, before trotting away into the bushes to relieve itself. I groaned and Nariel tried to stifle a laugh, stuffing her fist in her mouth. Ignoring this, I sat down on the ground, waiting for the pony. At least it had some decency to do it in the bushes and not embarrass me in public.

Nariel sat next to me. It was early morning and no one had slept. She stifled a yawn and pulled her knees against her chest.

"Nice day."

"Mmm."

She looked at my face and laughed.

"You have the worst luck. First you get dragged along on this trip, now you have to be a stable boy. And because I am associated with you, I have to give up my steed."

"Sorry. I suppose when Smellathon is a bit better . . ."

"Is that what you named it?"

"Um, yeah."

She laughed again. She looked pretty when she laughed; a dimple would appear in her left cheek and smile lines appeared near her eyes, which sparkled.

"Call it something pretty, like . . . lavender. At least that has a nice scent."

We both cackled.

From behind the bushes, the horse passed wind again, this time with tremendous volume, and the other ponies nearby trotted away in fear.

We collapsed onto the floor in fits. The people in the convoy marching past us stared and when Marien caught up she gave us a haughty glare before riding swiftly away with the rest.

It was along time before the white pony ('Lavender' as Nariel forced me to call it) finished her business. It looked a little tired, but it was a little more docile, so I supposed that she was getting better.

We were far behind and had to catch up with the procession. Meeting up with Elrond, he told us that we were going to arrive at the White City at the Eve of Midsummer and won't that be nice.

~

There was a flurry of activity from the front of the convoy, people cheering and shouting, and moments later, the sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir rode up to their father, who welcomed them. They were dressed magnificently, even for princes and I gave them a grin. We had always got along. There were lots of hugging and warm greetings and Nariel shed a small tear.

"My sons, it has been some time. I hope you are well?" said Elrond to them.

"Brilliant. It was a triumphant victory." Said one, which I think was Elrohir, but I'm not sure.

"Didn't much like the Paths of the Dead though." Said the other, with a slight shudder.

"Well, I'm very proud of both of you. I hope you've greeted your sister? I think she's up ahead."

"Yes, we have. She screamed and then hugged us."

"Oh. How nice."

"The city is prepared for your arrival father. They've been waiting for some time now. How are the Lord and Lady of Lorien?"

"They fare well, though Lady Galadriel's steed is a little . . ." he paused to give me a look, "We have been journeying for some time now too. How many days has it been? It's been quite uneventful actually."

"Well I'm glad." Said Elrohir." Here are the plans. I think me and Elladan should go first into the city and carry the silver banners, then the household follow, Glorfindel and Erestor and so on; Then the Lothlorien Company; then yourself and Arwen, save the best for last, eh?"

"Well . . . we do have our own banners, but I suppose that that's a good plan. It shall be so."

"Do you have the sceptre ready father?"

"The what?"

"The sceptre of Annuminas!"

"Oh." He rummaged around his cloak, "I'm sure it's here somewhere."

"We need it for Estel father!"

"Don't panic. I'm sure it's here somewhere." He searched into his cloak and his robes, then his bag. We waited in anticipation as he finally drew out a long metal decorated stick that I had never seen before.

The twins sighed in relief.

"Ah . . . the sceptre of Annuminas." Elrond sighed. "This he shall have, as well as my daughter. Too much do I owe him." He whispered to no one in particular.

"We should go now father. They are expecting us."

"Then we shall go."

The whole procession started up again, in the set order.

Elladan and Elrohir (carrying MY banner) rode up front again and Nariel did the same. She was supposed to be with her father. Elrond and Arwen were at the rear (they had dressed up very snazzy), so where was I to go?

"Haldir!" cried a voice. It was Celeborn. He motioned to the Lothlorien group. Galadriel did the same.

I had no choice.

*

Evening had fallen as we passed through the northern gate of Minas Tirith. There was cheering and yells all around us. The horn blowers (including Lamalas) blew their golden trumpets and Glindir called our words in Quenya, as you are supposed to do, but it was so noisy from the crowds that hardly anyone was heard. It was a day of celebration, and I had finally got rid of 'Lavender'.

Thousands of instruments played as the procession finally entered the White City.

Afar, I could see the famed Mithrandir and one of the Pheriann, talking. The last time I saw them had been in Lothlorien, after Mithrandir had fallen in Moria.

I hardly recognised Aragorn when he finally descended down the steps.

He had washed his hair.

He had shaved.

He had changed his clothes.

He actually bore some resemblance to a king! I felt humble before him.

Near him stood the other fellowship members, the petty dwarf . . . and I clenched my teeth when I saw Legolas, dressed in his finery standing behind the throne. His eyes met mine and he gave a grimacing smile. I looked away so to not incite fury.

Elrond handed the sceptre to Aragorn and taking Arwen's hand he laid in his foster son's. He blessed the couple under his breath (or so I hope) and withdrew.

The two stared into each other's eyes as maidens scattered coloured rice grains over them. Bells were rung in that moment, and the trumpets blew as the two kissed.

True love indeed. I thought back to how much I hated each of them, yet I was happy for them at this joyous moment. Each had gone through much, and had found love in the other.

Looking over to where Nariel was standing, I saw that she was crying into her handkerchief. I went over and patted her lightly on the shoulder, and heard a snigger behind my back.

"Shut it Glindir." I said simply to the person behind me, and saw that Marien wasbeside him. All the riders had dismounted now and as I watched her in her pink gown, I realised why I had fallen in love with her in the first place.

But she was not looking back at me. She was staring at the throne, or, more accurately, at Legolas Thranduillion. I felt the bottled anger rise up again in my throat.

Revenge would be sweet, and it would come soon.

Eru, I'm malicious.