Author's note--Look, Ricco--no evil, no anvils! And yes, I still have a life.;-)
I woke in a room quite different from the one in which I'd gone to sleep, with no memory of how I had come to be there. Late evening sun poured in through a door and floor length windows set with beautiful cut glass. The bed in which I found myself had a feather tick soft as a cloud, and was large enough that it could have held six Rangers. The outer coverlet, which lay over several soft blankets, was of a green brocade woven in a leaf pattern, and there were bed hangings to match. The Tree and Stars were carved into the headboard, and into various artistically appropriate places on the other lovely furniture in the room. There were thick carpets woven in a forest design upon the polished wood floors. Stags and rabbits and birds peeped out from behind the leaves.
Two large, overstuffed armchairs sat before a fireplace with a lovely wrought-iron screen, also done in the twining leaf motif. A polished table sat between them, and more tables were on either side of the bed. My Elvish book and the books Faramir had lent me lay upon one of them, and I could see my hauberk and arms across the room on an armor stand, the Elven bow hung carefully across a couple of pegs in the wall. I could almost have fit the house in which I'd been born into this room, it was so vast. There were three doors--one to the hallway, presumably, one to an adjoining room, and the third glass door out to a balcony or perhaps a garden.
There was someone moving in the room. I looked up, and a woman was at a wardrobe across the room from me, placing clothes within it. I sat up, and she turned around and smiled at me. She was middle-aged, and pleasant faced, and wore a tabard with the sigil of the Citadel upon it over her gown.
"My name is Felith, my lady, and I am at your service. Is there anything you require?" I considered my most pressing needs.
"The location of the nearest garderobe, and a bath, if that is possible." She indicated the door to the adjoining room.
"There is a chair within there, and a washstand, and a tub. When you have finished, I will send for hot water." I got up carefully, and found that my head felt well enough, and that I was only momentarily shaky. Felith stood ready to assist me, but I made it to the bathroom under my own power, and took care of matters. When I came out, it was to find a robe and slippers waiting for me. She settled me into one of the armchairs, tucked a lap robe around me, and began to light a fire which had been already laid. Soon after, a man servant began bringing in a succession of ewers of hot water, and filling the tub in the adjoining room. When he was finished, I went back in and enjoyed the luxury of a very hot bath in a very big tub. Felith again asked if I wished for assistance, but I did not care for that sort of help, being sensitive about my unclothed appearance. And whatever was wrong with Elrohir's attitude, there was nothing wrong with his abilities as a healer. The more I moved about, the better I felt. I washed my hair as well, scrubbing carefully so as to not hurt the stitches, but persevering until the last of the blood and its reek were gone. It is impossible to describe how much better that made me feel--it was as if I had washed the incident away with the blood.
When I came out in the robe, I found that Felith had laid out clean clothes--a shirt, underthings, green tunic and breeches that I did not recognize. They were all of a much finer quality than I had been accustomed to wearing.
"How came these here?" I asked her, and she smiled a little.
"The Lords Elladan and Elrohir went shopping this afternoon. They took some of your things to get the size right." I contemplated a mental picture of Elrohir shopping for underdrawers for me, yet another in the series of horrific images that was my life. I decided that some things were better if not too deeply thought upon, and retreated to the bathroom to change. My boots, I noticed, had been properly polished for once.
Upon my final return from my watery sanctuary, Felith was setting the armchairs to face the table before the fire.
"Dinner will be served shortly, my lady. I hope you are hungry."
"I'm famished! I haven't eaten since lunch at court yesterday-providing yesterday was the fifth. How long have I been asleep?"
"You were asleep when they brought you upstairs this morning, and they said you'd been hurt last night."
"Who is they?"
"Oh, goodness, there were all sorts of people! The elf-lords, and Prince Faramir, and Prince Imrahil, and that gentleman who is the Captain of the Rangers, and Lord Hurin. I haven't seen such carryings-on since I started working here!"
"Oh, dear," I groaned. When I'd told them to all go and speak to the King and let me sleep, I hadn't imagined they'd bring in reinforcements. The odds were good I was the King's least favorite person in the kingdom about now--though I had to admit, if that were so, this was certainly the nicest dungeon I'd ever seen.
On impulse, I stepped over to the glass door, and opened it. A balcony lay beyond, with an intricately carved stone railing. It was of reasonable size, and several containers of young plants were scattered about. Some of them looked as if blooming were imminent. There were even a couple of tiny trees in pots. I was definitely in the Citadel, and as I looked down, realized, I was very high up. Fortunately, I have always had a head for heights, they don't bother me in the least. Dark, enclosed spaces, on the other hand.........
The view was breathtaking in the setting sunlight--I could see clear across the River to Emyn Arnen and Ithilien. I wondered if this was intentional.
"If my lady would come in and sit by the fire, I would be glad to brush your hair dry," Felith suggested diffidently from inside the room. I had to admit, there was a bit of a breeze up here, and the air was beginning to chill with the coming of nightfall. "You've been ill, and it's not good to sit about with a wet head."
So I came back inside, picked up the book of children's stories, and sat by the fire while Felith started to brush my hair dry. She paused to finger the shorter bits sticking up at the back of my head, and I gave a ticklish shudder.
"What happened here, my lady?"
"I had to have stitches. One of those things the Black Riders rode clawed the back of my head when I was riding with Lord Faramir back to the City."
The hairbrush hit the floor, but she stooped quickly to retrieve it. "My word! I heard of that! How did you come to be in such a terrible situation?"
"I was one of his Rangers. He asked me to ride with him."
"What would a fine young lady like yourself be doing, riding to war? I heard tell that the young Rohan lady did so, but I didn't know one of our girls did." The hairbrushing resumed..
"Orcs killed my family. I thought I'd kill a few of them back." It paused for a moment, then started again.
"Well! I think it's a sad state of affairs when a poor young lady such as yourself has to fight, instead of being able to sit home and plan her wedding!" It was apparent that Felith and I were not going to be able to find much in common to converse about, but she was a very good lady's maid, and didn't once hurt my stitches. I buried my nose in my book, and my hair was quite dry, and starting to crackle and fly beneath her strokes, when there was a knock at the door. I bade whoever it was enter, and three manservants entered, bearing large trays containing the evening meal. They proceeded to set the table with a snowy cloth, and silver plates and goblets, and covered silver dishes that filled the air with a savory smell. I noticed that there were two places set. When they'd completed their tasks, the men bowed, and departed as silently as they'd come. Felith put the brush away, and dropped me a curtsy.
"I'll be back later this evening, my lady." She departed, and I laid the book aside, and lifted the cover on one of the dishes. For a wonder, a roast and not a chicken! I heard the door open again, and looked up. The King of Gondor stood in the doorway, regarding me with a grave face but twinkling eyes.
"I believe I owe you a meal," he said.
I started to rise, but he stopped me with a wave of the hand. "That's quite all right, Hethlin, let's not stand on ceremony here." He came forward, and dropped into the chair opposite me with a sigh of relief. "I have had the most interesting day. And right now, I am supposed to be at yet another court dinner. Let me thank you for sparing me that."
I wasn't quite sure how he meant that, but decided to take it literally. "You're welcome, Sire." He lifted the lid of the very tray I'd been looking at, and sniffed appreciatively.
"Shall I carve?"
"If you would, please, sir." He gave me an intent look, then a smile, picked up the knife laid ready on the table, and as one might expect from one of Middle-Earth's premier swordsmen, made short work of the roast. We then spent some time passing various dishes back and forth, and filling our plates and glasses. When all was made ready for serious consumption, he indicated that I should begin eating, which I did quite eagerly, for though I was uneasy about the nature of his visit, I was very, very hungry indeed. He seemed to enjoy watching me eat, though he was not far behind me as far as consumption went--he was a tall man, and very active after all.
The food was magnificent, and varied, and there was wine served with it, though I was careful just to sip it and that alternating with sips of water. I thought I saw a glimmer of approval in his eyes. When we had blunted the first edges of our hunger, he sat back with an air of contentment, and gave me a keen look.
"So--how does it feel to be the most important woman in Gondor?"
"The what? My lord, I don't understand what you mean. And I certainly don't understand about all this." And I indicated the room about me with sweep of my hand.
"It seems that it is time for me to explain myself upon a number of levels." Puzzled, I watched as he reached into a belt pouch embossed with the royal arms, and pulled forth a parchment covered with neat, close-spaced writing.
"Do you know what this is?" I shook my head .
"This is my schedule. Which is prepared for me daily by the extremely efficient secretary supplied to me by the Steward. It tells me, poor, backward Ranger that I am, where and when and with whom I'm supposed to be for the better part of the day." A slightly irritated look crossed his face. "It also gives concise directions on how to get to various places, not that I need them. It's true I haven't been here since well before Faramir was born, but the place hasn't changed that much. Once I've been somewhere, I don't get lost, not that I can convince my secretary of that." He looked at it broodingly for a moment, then suddenly crumpled it into a small ball, and set it upon the table. "That was how my day was supposed to go." He paused to help himself to some more roasted vegetables. When he had finished, he resumed speaking.
"What actually happened was that I was descended upon first by the very indignant Prince of Ithilien, one of the two props of my realm, who demanded to know the reasoning behind my sending you away from Ithilien, and why I had questioned his judgment in the matter of the Ranger assignments in the first place. He assured me that if my concern was over the possibility of some romantic indiscretion or scandal, that I had naught to worry about from you. He was followed shortly thereafter by the Prince of Dol Amroth, the other of my two props. Prince Imrahil's accusation was even more serious--he informed me that I had compromised his honor by forcing you to swear fealty to him against your inclination. Imrahil is the most congenial of men, save when matters of honor are concerned, so it was a .....painful.... interview to say the least."
"I had barely weathered Imrahil's wrath, when my foster brothers demanded admittance to the royal person. Elrohir claimed that you were being housed in a fetid hole. I'm reasonably sure there aren't any fetid holes in the Citadel."
"My room was perfectly adequate, my lord King, though Lord Elrohir may have been judging by Elven standards."
"Lord Elrohir has spent much of his long adult life sleeping rolled up in a cloak, and upon the ground, under the open sky and in all weathers. He was simply being his usual perverse self. Though he did have a valid point--you are my kinswoman, and as such, should not be sleeping in the servant quarters. Elladan was in quiet agreement with him, adding that you were ill-supplied of clothing and other necessities, which did not reflect well upon me as your kinsman. I own I was somewhat short-tempered at that point, so I gave them leave to amend my deficiencies as they saw fit. What you have here is the result. This room, by the way, is part of the royal suite." I gulped. He buttered a roll and offered it to me, then did another for himself. I took a bite of mine, and chewed slowly, watching him and wondering if the disastrous tale had reached its end yet.
"Elladan and Elrohir had barely departed, and I was settling down to get some real work done, when up showed Mablung with an escort of extremely surly Rangers. Mablung pointed out to me that if I had not surprised you so badly at court, you would not have felt the need to ride forth into the night, and subsequently almost get yourself raped and killed. Did I mention they had a couple of Duinhir's men with them, who also wanted to make sure you were all right before they left town?" He devoured his roll in two swift bites.
"What I do not understand is how I became the personification of Evil to the Ithilien Rangers," he remarked morosely. "They're Rangers, I'm a Ranger--you'd think we'd get along better than we do. But there you have it--they wanted a progress report, so I sent the lot of them off to Elladan and Elrohir. And was once again going about my kingly tasks when Hurin came in. He at least, was on business--or so it seemed at first--giving me a report on the business out at the caravan. It may interest you to know that with some.... persuasion, the location of the Lossarnach boy became known. He too had been robbed and killed, and buried in one of the trenches in that was being filled in. So that was a bad business all around, and I thank you for discovering it and dealing with it, though I know it was costly to you personally." I simply nodded assent, and set to my meal again. A wry note entered the King's voice, and I looked up in concern.
"Lord Hurin asks me to remind you that you were acting under his authority, with an acting captaincy, and that he thanks you for being kind enough to do that watch for him at his request. He also asks me to assure you that though you may not remember it because of your head wound, you were in fact officially listed on the watch roster for that night, and it is a matter of public record."
I felt my cheeks get red, and my eyes blurred a bit at Lord Hurin's kindness. The King just sighed, and shook his head.
"What all seem to agree upon here is that if I can't manage the realm any better than I've managed you, then we are in serious trouble. And since you seem to have both Princes of the realm, the Warden of the Keys, the Rangers of Ithilien, and my kinsmen all at your beck and call, that makes you the most important woman in Gondor right now."
I wanted to sink through the floor in embarrassment. Barely a week into his reign, and I seemed to have become the center of a seditious uprising! He noticed the chagrin on my face and chuckled kindly.
"Hethlin, I am not angry with you. It is said that a person can be judged in two ways--by the quality of their enemies, or their friends. Your friends are so numerous, and so extraordinary in their loyalty for a good reason, I think. I did not come here tonight to chastise you, I came to apologize--and to explain why it was I did what I did."
He leaned forward suddenly, his gaze intent. "I am very sorry to have put such pain upon you, Hethlin, and sorrier still that it could have cost you your life. I hope that you will forgive me, and that we may become friends in time." He looked at me with such regret and sincerity in his grey eyes that it almost took my breath away. Faramir, Imrahil, Elrohir and even King Eomer were all men (or elves) possessed of great personal charm. But when Aragorn son of Arathorn unbent enough to reveal the humor and nobility and sweetness that lay within him, he cast them all into the shade.
I looked down, and took a moment to collect myself, then raised my eyes to him once more. "I will gladly forgive you, Sire, on one condition." He looked surprised for a moment.
"Name it, and if I can grant it, I will."
I took a deep breath. "You told me yourself that in Numenor, I would have been the head of my house. You may feel that I am your ward, but that is not what I want. I am a warrior proven in battle, and the last of my line. In the future, I wish you to treat with me as head of my House, and not some woman whose fate is subordinate to your wishes. Though as your subject," I was quick to amend, "your wish is my will as well. But I should like to choose my own husband, should I ever desire to wed at all."
The King regarded me thoughtfully for a long moment. "That would seem to be a way to prevent similar misunderstandings in the future. And it is a reasonable request. Granted, Hethlin." I sighed in relief, and he smiled.
"Now, as to the matter of why I did as I did--there were two reasons, and of the first, all I will say is that I am foresighted like many of our people, and I had a dream in which I saw you at Dol Amroth, and felt you had something important to do there. More than that I will not tell--for too much knowledge of such visions can actually prevent a desirable outcome. And sometimes trying to avoid a fate of which you have foreknowledge will bring it about all the sooner." He waved his hand in a vague sort of way. "It was a rather...imprecise vision in any event."
"They generally are," I agreed, thinking of my experiences with Faramir's dreams.
"Have you the foresight, then? I did not know."
"Not me, my lord. Or at least, not yet. I'm the one that talks to very large birds. Lord Faramir is the dreamer."
"Ah, that's right. I remember now. His was the dream was that brought Boromir to Rivendell." His face grew somber for a moment, then lightened as if a far happier memory had occurred to him.
"As for my second reason......I'm going to tell you something you must keep in strictest confidence. I have not revealed this to even my closest friends in the Fellowship, for I wish it to be a surprise. Have I your word on this?"
"I swear to you I will tell no one, my lord King," I promised, though I was a bit worried. What manner of secret was this, that he'd not told even those dearest to him?
"Very good. Gandalf knows of this, as do Elrohir and Elladan. The day after tomorrow, the Rohirrim will be returning home. My foster brothers will accompany them so long as their roads lie together, after which the two of them will go to Lorien to meet my bride, and escort her here."
I looked at him in amazement. "Your bride? You are betrothed?" He nodded, and I grinned. "Oh my, won't there be some disappointed court ladies!"
"Won't there just?" he agreed, and for a moment there was an echo of Elrohir in his suddenly wicked smile. He had not yet been subject to the sort of attention Imrahil endured on a regular basis, for people were still somewhat intimidated by him, but some of the bolder young women had started making advances, and things were only going to escalate as time went on. He would undoubtedly be pleased to put a stop to that sort of thing as quickly as possible.
"Who is she, my lord? A Dunedan of the North?" It occurred to me suddenly that if the King had been unattached, and Elrohir had successfully petitioned his father to cure my infertility, that I could have been considered a candidate for Queen of Gondor. I did not share this observation with the King.
"No. She is Arwen Undomiel, Lord Elrond's daughter." I digested this for a moment.
"She's Elladan's and Elrohir's sister?"
"That is correct."
"Is she much younger than they are?"
"Only by a very few years."
"Then that makes her...."
"Almost three thousand years old. Yes." He seemed to be waiting for my reaction curiously. I spent some long moments deciding exactly how I was going to phrase my next question.
"How is this going to be done, if you don't mind my asking, my lord? Will she simply stay with you while you live?" He shook his head, rather sadly I thought.
"It doesn't work that way, Hethlin. She is one of Elrond's children, and they all have a choice; to become mortal, or to live as the Elves do. When she became betrothed to me, she chose a mortal existence. In time, she will grow old and die, even as Men do."
I must have simply gaped at him for a moment, as I contemplated the depth of a love that would give up so much, and what sort of man he must truly be, to inspire such a love. He watched me, waiting, his eyes dark, and one eyebrow slightly arched.
Finally, I said, "I think I am very glad that Lord Elrohir doesn't like me any better than he does." He acknowledged this with a short, sharp nod.
"Indeed. And there are times, though they come not often, and are very brief, when I wish Arwen did not love me so well." He pushed his chair back suddenly, got to his feet, and began pacing, his unease expressed in a desire for movement. Strider, indeed. "All the rest of the time, of course, I am very glad she does. My greatest fear, the one that haunts my nights and troubles my sleep is, that having given up eternal life, she will come into my keeping, and through some lack of care on my part, lose what little life remains to her. She must absolutely be kept safe." He paused for a moment, and looked me in the eye. "And this is where you come in."
"There will, of course, always be guards about her. But it may be that diplomatic necessity require that I travel to other lands, and that concerns me. In Harad, and other places, people would fear her, not understanding what she was. Such might even happen in parts of my kingdom--the Elves have not been seen abroad much among Men for many years. And not understanding, they might strike out against what they fear." The pacing resumed once more.
"When I first met you, and discovered who you were, it occurred to me that there was a way I might add an extra layer of protection about my wife, during those times she stood in most peril. If one of her ladies was somewhat more than just a lady, was in fact an accomplished warrior, then perhaps she might be able to hold attackers at bay until help arrived, if people meaning harm to Arwen penetrated my defenses." He nodded at my sudden look of comprehension.
"I realize that this is certainly a thankless job--to be asked to stand unarmored against Valar knows what, and be prepared to lay your life down for my Queen--but it was what I was thinking of when I denied you Ithilien. There are any number of good Rangers I might send there, but only one woman in my kingdom who could do this for me and my Queen."
I got up out of my chair as well. "Sire, my sword is yours. You had only to ask--and to explain." He smiled at me ruefully.
"So it always was with your father, as well. He would do anything for me, so long as he knew the reasoning behind it. Not much on blind obedience, was Hallaran, though he was absolutely reliable. I fear I've been too much around Gandalf, and picked up his habit of keeping what he knows close. Or tried to--it must be a wizard's trick, for I've not proven very skilled at it." He moved to the balcony door, and gestured that I should accompany him. He opened it, and we stepped out into the cool spring darkness. The City lay like a series of ever larger, jeweled necklaces beneath us.
"I chose Dol Amroth, for as I said the other day, Imrahil's court is truly the most polished in Gondor. And because I had seen you there. And because his Armsmaster is acknowledged the best teacher of the blade in the kingdom. I need you deadly with a sword or knife, and dangerously accomplished as a courtier as well, and the Swan Lord's city is the best place for you to acquire both of those skills." A chill night wind lifted our hair.
"Then I will go to Prince Imrahil tomorrow, and assure him that my oath is a willing one, Sire," I told him without hesitation. He nodded.
"Thank you for that, Hethlin. I will speak to Imrahil as well, for there is something else I would have you do for me before you begin your training with him. It would not start in earnest until he returns to Dol Amroth in any event, and he will not do that until some time after the wedding."
"I should like you to accompany my foster brothers on their journey as my official courier. It seems to me only fitting that a representative of Gondor help to escort my betrothed to her new home." My expression must have been plain even in the darkness, for he laughed a little.
"I know that you are at odds with Elrohir right now, but as compensation, you would get to see Lorien." His face and voice sobered suddenly. "And Hethlin, there will not be many more chances to do that. The Elves are leaving Middle-Earth. It would be a very good thing for you to be able to tell your children--and yes, I do believe you'll have them one day--that you had seen the Dreamflower in Spring when the Elves were still there."
"I feel as if I've come in at the end of a really good story, having missed all the exciting parts that came before," I said softly, and he sighed in agreement.
"I do as well, for though I did come in somewhat earlier than you did, it is still but a moment earlier as Elves reckon such things. And I was raised by Elrond at Imladris. I probably know as much about Elves as any man alive, and I already grieve at their passing."
"There will probably be a few remaining when I pass on, and even when you do, but our children's children will never know of them, save as legend. So even though you are wroth with Elrohir, I hope you will look upon this as an opportunity, for it is not one that will come again." In a sudden change of mood, the King grinned at me, and looked a very much younger man. "You should know, I've not seen him with his ears pinned back quite so thoroughly since the last time Elrond took him to task." I grimaced.
"He is just so provoking! Elladan is much nicer."
The King gave me a skeptical look. "Don't get too comfortable with that idea. The two of them are truly a matched pair, in the end. Elladan's just more subtle about it. I guarantee you any mischief they've done in the world has all been done in tandem."
There was a knock at the door, which announced the arrival of yet another manservant, this one bearing dessert in the form of a hot apple pie. As the fragrance wafted towards us, we by unspoken agreement abandoned the cold balcony for the warm room, and the warm pie. As we sat down with dessert, and hot tea, the King looked at me almost shyly for a moment.
"I hope that you'll like her, Hethlin, and be her friend. I suspect she'll need some here."
"I'm sure I will, Sire," I replied warmly, and he smiled, and proceeded to tell me some tales of my father. We laughed and got along famously until it was time for him to go. He gave me both a brotherly kiss on the brow, and a warrior's clasp of arms, which made me laugh yet again, and departed. Whereupon Felith came in, and dressed me for bed in an actual nightgown such as I'd not worn since I was a small girl, brushed my hair one more time, and left me to sleep on the soft mattress like a cloud, to dream of golden trees.
I woke in a room quite different from the one in which I'd gone to sleep, with no memory of how I had come to be there. Late evening sun poured in through a door and floor length windows set with beautiful cut glass. The bed in which I found myself had a feather tick soft as a cloud, and was large enough that it could have held six Rangers. The outer coverlet, which lay over several soft blankets, was of a green brocade woven in a leaf pattern, and there were bed hangings to match. The Tree and Stars were carved into the headboard, and into various artistically appropriate places on the other lovely furniture in the room. There were thick carpets woven in a forest design upon the polished wood floors. Stags and rabbits and birds peeped out from behind the leaves.
Two large, overstuffed armchairs sat before a fireplace with a lovely wrought-iron screen, also done in the twining leaf motif. A polished table sat between them, and more tables were on either side of the bed. My Elvish book and the books Faramir had lent me lay upon one of them, and I could see my hauberk and arms across the room on an armor stand, the Elven bow hung carefully across a couple of pegs in the wall. I could almost have fit the house in which I'd been born into this room, it was so vast. There were three doors--one to the hallway, presumably, one to an adjoining room, and the third glass door out to a balcony or perhaps a garden.
There was someone moving in the room. I looked up, and a woman was at a wardrobe across the room from me, placing clothes within it. I sat up, and she turned around and smiled at me. She was middle-aged, and pleasant faced, and wore a tabard with the sigil of the Citadel upon it over her gown.
"My name is Felith, my lady, and I am at your service. Is there anything you require?" I considered my most pressing needs.
"The location of the nearest garderobe, and a bath, if that is possible." She indicated the door to the adjoining room.
"There is a chair within there, and a washstand, and a tub. When you have finished, I will send for hot water." I got up carefully, and found that my head felt well enough, and that I was only momentarily shaky. Felith stood ready to assist me, but I made it to the bathroom under my own power, and took care of matters. When I came out, it was to find a robe and slippers waiting for me. She settled me into one of the armchairs, tucked a lap robe around me, and began to light a fire which had been already laid. Soon after, a man servant began bringing in a succession of ewers of hot water, and filling the tub in the adjoining room. When he was finished, I went back in and enjoyed the luxury of a very hot bath in a very big tub. Felith again asked if I wished for assistance, but I did not care for that sort of help, being sensitive about my unclothed appearance. And whatever was wrong with Elrohir's attitude, there was nothing wrong with his abilities as a healer. The more I moved about, the better I felt. I washed my hair as well, scrubbing carefully so as to not hurt the stitches, but persevering until the last of the blood and its reek were gone. It is impossible to describe how much better that made me feel--it was as if I had washed the incident away with the blood.
When I came out in the robe, I found that Felith had laid out clean clothes--a shirt, underthings, green tunic and breeches that I did not recognize. They were all of a much finer quality than I had been accustomed to wearing.
"How came these here?" I asked her, and she smiled a little.
"The Lords Elladan and Elrohir went shopping this afternoon. They took some of your things to get the size right." I contemplated a mental picture of Elrohir shopping for underdrawers for me, yet another in the series of horrific images that was my life. I decided that some things were better if not too deeply thought upon, and retreated to the bathroom to change. My boots, I noticed, had been properly polished for once.
Upon my final return from my watery sanctuary, Felith was setting the armchairs to face the table before the fire.
"Dinner will be served shortly, my lady. I hope you are hungry."
"I'm famished! I haven't eaten since lunch at court yesterday-providing yesterday was the fifth. How long have I been asleep?"
"You were asleep when they brought you upstairs this morning, and they said you'd been hurt last night."
"Who is they?"
"Oh, goodness, there were all sorts of people! The elf-lords, and Prince Faramir, and Prince Imrahil, and that gentleman who is the Captain of the Rangers, and Lord Hurin. I haven't seen such carryings-on since I started working here!"
"Oh, dear," I groaned. When I'd told them to all go and speak to the King and let me sleep, I hadn't imagined they'd bring in reinforcements. The odds were good I was the King's least favorite person in the kingdom about now--though I had to admit, if that were so, this was certainly the nicest dungeon I'd ever seen.
On impulse, I stepped over to the glass door, and opened it. A balcony lay beyond, with an intricately carved stone railing. It was of reasonable size, and several containers of young plants were scattered about. Some of them looked as if blooming were imminent. There were even a couple of tiny trees in pots. I was definitely in the Citadel, and as I looked down, realized, I was very high up. Fortunately, I have always had a head for heights, they don't bother me in the least. Dark, enclosed spaces, on the other hand.........
The view was breathtaking in the setting sunlight--I could see clear across the River to Emyn Arnen and Ithilien. I wondered if this was intentional.
"If my lady would come in and sit by the fire, I would be glad to brush your hair dry," Felith suggested diffidently from inside the room. I had to admit, there was a bit of a breeze up here, and the air was beginning to chill with the coming of nightfall. "You've been ill, and it's not good to sit about with a wet head."
So I came back inside, picked up the book of children's stories, and sat by the fire while Felith started to brush my hair dry. She paused to finger the shorter bits sticking up at the back of my head, and I gave a ticklish shudder.
"What happened here, my lady?"
"I had to have stitches. One of those things the Black Riders rode clawed the back of my head when I was riding with Lord Faramir back to the City."
The hairbrush hit the floor, but she stooped quickly to retrieve it. "My word! I heard of that! How did you come to be in such a terrible situation?"
"I was one of his Rangers. He asked me to ride with him."
"What would a fine young lady like yourself be doing, riding to war? I heard tell that the young Rohan lady did so, but I didn't know one of our girls did." The hairbrushing resumed..
"Orcs killed my family. I thought I'd kill a few of them back." It paused for a moment, then started again.
"Well! I think it's a sad state of affairs when a poor young lady such as yourself has to fight, instead of being able to sit home and plan her wedding!" It was apparent that Felith and I were not going to be able to find much in common to converse about, but she was a very good lady's maid, and didn't once hurt my stitches. I buried my nose in my book, and my hair was quite dry, and starting to crackle and fly beneath her strokes, when there was a knock at the door. I bade whoever it was enter, and three manservants entered, bearing large trays containing the evening meal. They proceeded to set the table with a snowy cloth, and silver plates and goblets, and covered silver dishes that filled the air with a savory smell. I noticed that there were two places set. When they'd completed their tasks, the men bowed, and departed as silently as they'd come. Felith put the brush away, and dropped me a curtsy.
"I'll be back later this evening, my lady." She departed, and I laid the book aside, and lifted the cover on one of the dishes. For a wonder, a roast and not a chicken! I heard the door open again, and looked up. The King of Gondor stood in the doorway, regarding me with a grave face but twinkling eyes.
"I believe I owe you a meal," he said.
I started to rise, but he stopped me with a wave of the hand. "That's quite all right, Hethlin, let's not stand on ceremony here." He came forward, and dropped into the chair opposite me with a sigh of relief. "I have had the most interesting day. And right now, I am supposed to be at yet another court dinner. Let me thank you for sparing me that."
I wasn't quite sure how he meant that, but decided to take it literally. "You're welcome, Sire." He lifted the lid of the very tray I'd been looking at, and sniffed appreciatively.
"Shall I carve?"
"If you would, please, sir." He gave me an intent look, then a smile, picked up the knife laid ready on the table, and as one might expect from one of Middle-Earth's premier swordsmen, made short work of the roast. We then spent some time passing various dishes back and forth, and filling our plates and glasses. When all was made ready for serious consumption, he indicated that I should begin eating, which I did quite eagerly, for though I was uneasy about the nature of his visit, I was very, very hungry indeed. He seemed to enjoy watching me eat, though he was not far behind me as far as consumption went--he was a tall man, and very active after all.
The food was magnificent, and varied, and there was wine served with it, though I was careful just to sip it and that alternating with sips of water. I thought I saw a glimmer of approval in his eyes. When we had blunted the first edges of our hunger, he sat back with an air of contentment, and gave me a keen look.
"So--how does it feel to be the most important woman in Gondor?"
"The what? My lord, I don't understand what you mean. And I certainly don't understand about all this." And I indicated the room about me with sweep of my hand.
"It seems that it is time for me to explain myself upon a number of levels." Puzzled, I watched as he reached into a belt pouch embossed with the royal arms, and pulled forth a parchment covered with neat, close-spaced writing.
"Do you know what this is?" I shook my head .
"This is my schedule. Which is prepared for me daily by the extremely efficient secretary supplied to me by the Steward. It tells me, poor, backward Ranger that I am, where and when and with whom I'm supposed to be for the better part of the day." A slightly irritated look crossed his face. "It also gives concise directions on how to get to various places, not that I need them. It's true I haven't been here since well before Faramir was born, but the place hasn't changed that much. Once I've been somewhere, I don't get lost, not that I can convince my secretary of that." He looked at it broodingly for a moment, then suddenly crumpled it into a small ball, and set it upon the table. "That was how my day was supposed to go." He paused to help himself to some more roasted vegetables. When he had finished, he resumed speaking.
"What actually happened was that I was descended upon first by the very indignant Prince of Ithilien, one of the two props of my realm, who demanded to know the reasoning behind my sending you away from Ithilien, and why I had questioned his judgment in the matter of the Ranger assignments in the first place. He assured me that if my concern was over the possibility of some romantic indiscretion or scandal, that I had naught to worry about from you. He was followed shortly thereafter by the Prince of Dol Amroth, the other of my two props. Prince Imrahil's accusation was even more serious--he informed me that I had compromised his honor by forcing you to swear fealty to him against your inclination. Imrahil is the most congenial of men, save when matters of honor are concerned, so it was a .....painful.... interview to say the least."
"I had barely weathered Imrahil's wrath, when my foster brothers demanded admittance to the royal person. Elrohir claimed that you were being housed in a fetid hole. I'm reasonably sure there aren't any fetid holes in the Citadel."
"My room was perfectly adequate, my lord King, though Lord Elrohir may have been judging by Elven standards."
"Lord Elrohir has spent much of his long adult life sleeping rolled up in a cloak, and upon the ground, under the open sky and in all weathers. He was simply being his usual perverse self. Though he did have a valid point--you are my kinswoman, and as such, should not be sleeping in the servant quarters. Elladan was in quiet agreement with him, adding that you were ill-supplied of clothing and other necessities, which did not reflect well upon me as your kinsman. I own I was somewhat short-tempered at that point, so I gave them leave to amend my deficiencies as they saw fit. What you have here is the result. This room, by the way, is part of the royal suite." I gulped. He buttered a roll and offered it to me, then did another for himself. I took a bite of mine, and chewed slowly, watching him and wondering if the disastrous tale had reached its end yet.
"Elladan and Elrohir had barely departed, and I was settling down to get some real work done, when up showed Mablung with an escort of extremely surly Rangers. Mablung pointed out to me that if I had not surprised you so badly at court, you would not have felt the need to ride forth into the night, and subsequently almost get yourself raped and killed. Did I mention they had a couple of Duinhir's men with them, who also wanted to make sure you were all right before they left town?" He devoured his roll in two swift bites.
"What I do not understand is how I became the personification of Evil to the Ithilien Rangers," he remarked morosely. "They're Rangers, I'm a Ranger--you'd think we'd get along better than we do. But there you have it--they wanted a progress report, so I sent the lot of them off to Elladan and Elrohir. And was once again going about my kingly tasks when Hurin came in. He at least, was on business--or so it seemed at first--giving me a report on the business out at the caravan. It may interest you to know that with some.... persuasion, the location of the Lossarnach boy became known. He too had been robbed and killed, and buried in one of the trenches in that was being filled in. So that was a bad business all around, and I thank you for discovering it and dealing with it, though I know it was costly to you personally." I simply nodded assent, and set to my meal again. A wry note entered the King's voice, and I looked up in concern.
"Lord Hurin asks me to remind you that you were acting under his authority, with an acting captaincy, and that he thanks you for being kind enough to do that watch for him at his request. He also asks me to assure you that though you may not remember it because of your head wound, you were in fact officially listed on the watch roster for that night, and it is a matter of public record."
I felt my cheeks get red, and my eyes blurred a bit at Lord Hurin's kindness. The King just sighed, and shook his head.
"What all seem to agree upon here is that if I can't manage the realm any better than I've managed you, then we are in serious trouble. And since you seem to have both Princes of the realm, the Warden of the Keys, the Rangers of Ithilien, and my kinsmen all at your beck and call, that makes you the most important woman in Gondor right now."
I wanted to sink through the floor in embarrassment. Barely a week into his reign, and I seemed to have become the center of a seditious uprising! He noticed the chagrin on my face and chuckled kindly.
"Hethlin, I am not angry with you. It is said that a person can be judged in two ways--by the quality of their enemies, or their friends. Your friends are so numerous, and so extraordinary in their loyalty for a good reason, I think. I did not come here tonight to chastise you, I came to apologize--and to explain why it was I did what I did."
He leaned forward suddenly, his gaze intent. "I am very sorry to have put such pain upon you, Hethlin, and sorrier still that it could have cost you your life. I hope that you will forgive me, and that we may become friends in time." He looked at me with such regret and sincerity in his grey eyes that it almost took my breath away. Faramir, Imrahil, Elrohir and even King Eomer were all men (or elves) possessed of great personal charm. But when Aragorn son of Arathorn unbent enough to reveal the humor and nobility and sweetness that lay within him, he cast them all into the shade.
I looked down, and took a moment to collect myself, then raised my eyes to him once more. "I will gladly forgive you, Sire, on one condition." He looked surprised for a moment.
"Name it, and if I can grant it, I will."
I took a deep breath. "You told me yourself that in Numenor, I would have been the head of my house. You may feel that I am your ward, but that is not what I want. I am a warrior proven in battle, and the last of my line. In the future, I wish you to treat with me as head of my House, and not some woman whose fate is subordinate to your wishes. Though as your subject," I was quick to amend, "your wish is my will as well. But I should like to choose my own husband, should I ever desire to wed at all."
The King regarded me thoughtfully for a long moment. "That would seem to be a way to prevent similar misunderstandings in the future. And it is a reasonable request. Granted, Hethlin." I sighed in relief, and he smiled.
"Now, as to the matter of why I did as I did--there were two reasons, and of the first, all I will say is that I am foresighted like many of our people, and I had a dream in which I saw you at Dol Amroth, and felt you had something important to do there. More than that I will not tell--for too much knowledge of such visions can actually prevent a desirable outcome. And sometimes trying to avoid a fate of which you have foreknowledge will bring it about all the sooner." He waved his hand in a vague sort of way. "It was a rather...imprecise vision in any event."
"They generally are," I agreed, thinking of my experiences with Faramir's dreams.
"Have you the foresight, then? I did not know."
"Not me, my lord. Or at least, not yet. I'm the one that talks to very large birds. Lord Faramir is the dreamer."
"Ah, that's right. I remember now. His was the dream was that brought Boromir to Rivendell." His face grew somber for a moment, then lightened as if a far happier memory had occurred to him.
"As for my second reason......I'm going to tell you something you must keep in strictest confidence. I have not revealed this to even my closest friends in the Fellowship, for I wish it to be a surprise. Have I your word on this?"
"I swear to you I will tell no one, my lord King," I promised, though I was a bit worried. What manner of secret was this, that he'd not told even those dearest to him?
"Very good. Gandalf knows of this, as do Elrohir and Elladan. The day after tomorrow, the Rohirrim will be returning home. My foster brothers will accompany them so long as their roads lie together, after which the two of them will go to Lorien to meet my bride, and escort her here."
I looked at him in amazement. "Your bride? You are betrothed?" He nodded, and I grinned. "Oh my, won't there be some disappointed court ladies!"
"Won't there just?" he agreed, and for a moment there was an echo of Elrohir in his suddenly wicked smile. He had not yet been subject to the sort of attention Imrahil endured on a regular basis, for people were still somewhat intimidated by him, but some of the bolder young women had started making advances, and things were only going to escalate as time went on. He would undoubtedly be pleased to put a stop to that sort of thing as quickly as possible.
"Who is she, my lord? A Dunedan of the North?" It occurred to me suddenly that if the King had been unattached, and Elrohir had successfully petitioned his father to cure my infertility, that I could have been considered a candidate for Queen of Gondor. I did not share this observation with the King.
"No. She is Arwen Undomiel, Lord Elrond's daughter." I digested this for a moment.
"She's Elladan's and Elrohir's sister?"
"That is correct."
"Is she much younger than they are?"
"Only by a very few years."
"Then that makes her...."
"Almost three thousand years old. Yes." He seemed to be waiting for my reaction curiously. I spent some long moments deciding exactly how I was going to phrase my next question.
"How is this going to be done, if you don't mind my asking, my lord? Will she simply stay with you while you live?" He shook his head, rather sadly I thought.
"It doesn't work that way, Hethlin. She is one of Elrond's children, and they all have a choice; to become mortal, or to live as the Elves do. When she became betrothed to me, she chose a mortal existence. In time, she will grow old and die, even as Men do."
I must have simply gaped at him for a moment, as I contemplated the depth of a love that would give up so much, and what sort of man he must truly be, to inspire such a love. He watched me, waiting, his eyes dark, and one eyebrow slightly arched.
Finally, I said, "I think I am very glad that Lord Elrohir doesn't like me any better than he does." He acknowledged this with a short, sharp nod.
"Indeed. And there are times, though they come not often, and are very brief, when I wish Arwen did not love me so well." He pushed his chair back suddenly, got to his feet, and began pacing, his unease expressed in a desire for movement. Strider, indeed. "All the rest of the time, of course, I am very glad she does. My greatest fear, the one that haunts my nights and troubles my sleep is, that having given up eternal life, she will come into my keeping, and through some lack of care on my part, lose what little life remains to her. She must absolutely be kept safe." He paused for a moment, and looked me in the eye. "And this is where you come in."
"There will, of course, always be guards about her. But it may be that diplomatic necessity require that I travel to other lands, and that concerns me. In Harad, and other places, people would fear her, not understanding what she was. Such might even happen in parts of my kingdom--the Elves have not been seen abroad much among Men for many years. And not understanding, they might strike out against what they fear." The pacing resumed once more.
"When I first met you, and discovered who you were, it occurred to me that there was a way I might add an extra layer of protection about my wife, during those times she stood in most peril. If one of her ladies was somewhat more than just a lady, was in fact an accomplished warrior, then perhaps she might be able to hold attackers at bay until help arrived, if people meaning harm to Arwen penetrated my defenses." He nodded at my sudden look of comprehension.
"I realize that this is certainly a thankless job--to be asked to stand unarmored against Valar knows what, and be prepared to lay your life down for my Queen--but it was what I was thinking of when I denied you Ithilien. There are any number of good Rangers I might send there, but only one woman in my kingdom who could do this for me and my Queen."
I got up out of my chair as well. "Sire, my sword is yours. You had only to ask--and to explain." He smiled at me ruefully.
"So it always was with your father, as well. He would do anything for me, so long as he knew the reasoning behind it. Not much on blind obedience, was Hallaran, though he was absolutely reliable. I fear I've been too much around Gandalf, and picked up his habit of keeping what he knows close. Or tried to--it must be a wizard's trick, for I've not proven very skilled at it." He moved to the balcony door, and gestured that I should accompany him. He opened it, and we stepped out into the cool spring darkness. The City lay like a series of ever larger, jeweled necklaces beneath us.
"I chose Dol Amroth, for as I said the other day, Imrahil's court is truly the most polished in Gondor. And because I had seen you there. And because his Armsmaster is acknowledged the best teacher of the blade in the kingdom. I need you deadly with a sword or knife, and dangerously accomplished as a courtier as well, and the Swan Lord's city is the best place for you to acquire both of those skills." A chill night wind lifted our hair.
"Then I will go to Prince Imrahil tomorrow, and assure him that my oath is a willing one, Sire," I told him without hesitation. He nodded.
"Thank you for that, Hethlin. I will speak to Imrahil as well, for there is something else I would have you do for me before you begin your training with him. It would not start in earnest until he returns to Dol Amroth in any event, and he will not do that until some time after the wedding."
"I should like you to accompany my foster brothers on their journey as my official courier. It seems to me only fitting that a representative of Gondor help to escort my betrothed to her new home." My expression must have been plain even in the darkness, for he laughed a little.
"I know that you are at odds with Elrohir right now, but as compensation, you would get to see Lorien." His face and voice sobered suddenly. "And Hethlin, there will not be many more chances to do that. The Elves are leaving Middle-Earth. It would be a very good thing for you to be able to tell your children--and yes, I do believe you'll have them one day--that you had seen the Dreamflower in Spring when the Elves were still there."
"I feel as if I've come in at the end of a really good story, having missed all the exciting parts that came before," I said softly, and he sighed in agreement.
"I do as well, for though I did come in somewhat earlier than you did, it is still but a moment earlier as Elves reckon such things. And I was raised by Elrond at Imladris. I probably know as much about Elves as any man alive, and I already grieve at their passing."
"There will probably be a few remaining when I pass on, and even when you do, but our children's children will never know of them, save as legend. So even though you are wroth with Elrohir, I hope you will look upon this as an opportunity, for it is not one that will come again." In a sudden change of mood, the King grinned at me, and looked a very much younger man. "You should know, I've not seen him with his ears pinned back quite so thoroughly since the last time Elrond took him to task." I grimaced.
"He is just so provoking! Elladan is much nicer."
The King gave me a skeptical look. "Don't get too comfortable with that idea. The two of them are truly a matched pair, in the end. Elladan's just more subtle about it. I guarantee you any mischief they've done in the world has all been done in tandem."
There was a knock at the door, which announced the arrival of yet another manservant, this one bearing dessert in the form of a hot apple pie. As the fragrance wafted towards us, we by unspoken agreement abandoned the cold balcony for the warm room, and the warm pie. As we sat down with dessert, and hot tea, the King looked at me almost shyly for a moment.
"I hope that you'll like her, Hethlin, and be her friend. I suspect she'll need some here."
"I'm sure I will, Sire," I replied warmly, and he smiled, and proceeded to tell me some tales of my father. We laughed and got along famously until it was time for him to go. He gave me both a brotherly kiss on the brow, and a warrior's clasp of arms, which made me laugh yet again, and departed. Whereupon Felith came in, and dressed me for bed in an actual nightgown such as I'd not worn since I was a small girl, brushed my hair one more time, and left me to sleep on the soft mattress like a cloud, to dream of golden trees.