Author's Note--This is another one of those travel-along-the-road, character-exploration chapters. I did have a more active part planned, but the chapter just grew and grew, so I ended up cutting it in half, much as I did with the Fangorn chapter earlier. The bad news is that this chapter is not as long as it could have been. The good news is that there's another hard on its heels.
Elrohir woke me in the darkness before the dawn. We washed up hurriedly, then dressed. It felt odd to arm and armor myself once more--Lorien had been much like Ithilien for me in that I had gone clad lightly like a Ranger, and I had that momentary feeling of being weighted down, and wanting to be rid of the hauberk that I had used to get. For his part, Elrohir was going to have to return to his quarters to retrieve his gear, but he embraced me before he left.
"Will we be able to keep doing this when we return to Minas Tirith?" I asked him as we stood with our arms about each other. He hugged me to him tightly.
"That I do not know, Snowsteel. We shall simply have to see. Hopefully, opportunities will present themselves." He held me out at arms' length and gave me a very serious look. "I do want you to know that I do not expect you to spend your life waiting about for me to make time for you. We are friends. If you should find some young Man you fancy, you need not fear my ire--or my interference." I grinned at him.
"Tired of me already?" In response, he gathered me close again and kissed the top of my head.
"Hardly. But your Prince's concern has some basis in fact. I am an Elf, and I have been known to go off exploring somewhere, or become engaged in some project or other, and when next I think about it, ten years have passed. Which means little to me, but for you, the passage of time is another matter entirely." I gave him a squeeze and stepped back.
"I think you just don't want to be bothered with me when I'm old and wrinkled, but if this show of concern makes you feel better, then so be it. The same applies to you, as well, you realize--if you should find some beautiful Elven maiden, don't worry about me throwing a fuss." He gave me one of his rare, sweet smiles.
"I have met most of the beautiful Elven maidens in Middle-earth, Snowsteel, and kept company with a few of them. I have yet to find one who engages my heart to the extent that I would consider bonding with her. But I will agree with you that we should both be free to look for a life partner." He started out the door of the flet and paused.
"All your Elven things have already been packed with the items that are going on the boats, so just bring your saddlebags. I'll meet you downstairs." I gave him a cheerful wave and continued my packing.
Quite the procession left Caras Galadon-- the Lord and Lady of Lorien, Lord Elrond, his sons and daughters, the Lord Glorfindel, and a great train of the members of both households. Much to my amazement, both the Lady Galadriel and the Lady Arwen were clad in ranger fashion, and both of them carried bows. In the midst of all this was the Prince, being carried in another litter. I caught up to him, and walked beside him where the trail allowed.
"How are you feeling this morning, my lord?" In the early morning light, his face was flush with color, and his voice was strong enough. I worried about the strain this trip would be on him, but at least he looked as if he were starting it in relatively good condition.
"Rather parcel-like, if you must know the truth. I keep having the most peculiar dreams about being a package. Of course, that could be because that is exactly what I was." I chuckled.
"Indeed, my lord. The twins and I bound your blankets about you with cord so that you would not become chilled during the trip. You were not happy about it at the time, and I am sorry if it has caused you to have bad dreams."
"I have no complaints, Hethlin. Alphor will undoubtedly be most amused at the tale of his flying-post grandfather when he's a little older. Are you sorry to be leaving Lorien?"
"I should have liked to stay a little longer, I'll admit, but it may be for the best. This seems a place where you could lose track of time very easily."
"Indeed. Not necessarily a good place for a mortal to stay for any length of time, though I will ever be glad that I got the opportunity to see it." I hopped over a root.
"You didn't get to see much of it."
"I saw more than you might think. While you were out roaming the forests, I would talk to the Elves. Lady Arwen was kind enough to interpret for me with those who did not speak Sindarin. I could not go about in Lorien, so they brought Lorien to me. If I expressed an interest in how they did something, or one of their crafts, they would bring a person to me who could answer my questions. They were very kind hosts and nurses both."
"I am glad you found it worth your while, my lord."
"Just the Mirror by itself made the journey worthwhile."
"What was it you asked to see, if I may be so bold? Whatever it was, you seemed to enjoy it."
"Things out of legend, Hethlin, out of old songs and stories. Wondrous things." The glow was back in his eyes again, but after a moment, he returned to himself. "I wish your experience with the Mirror had been as nice as mine." I grimaced.
"Maybe it wasn't because I was so scornful. If I'd come into it more respectfully, perhaps my visions would have been......kinder. Or perhaps I should have asked to see something specific, as you did." The Prince gave me a quizzical look.
"What would you ask to see, if you had it to do again?"
"I'm not sure. What you said about your loved ones living in your memories, that was very true. And I know very few old legends to do as you did. Maybe......maybe I might have asked to see my ancestor, the one who sold his soul to the Witch-King. To see why he had done it. Then again, maybe not. Seeing the Witch-King once was enough." Imrahil sat up a little straighter.
"Do you know, Hethlin, I have never heard that tale told in its entirety? And it is a story I think I should like to hear. Elrohir told me the other night about Angmar sending you to the Grey Lands, but naught about what came before."
"Did Faramir never tell you about it, my lord?"
"No, it never came up. But then, he might have felt it was a private matter."
"In truth, it is not a tale I particularly wish to tell, my lord."
"Please, Hethlin--I really would like to hear it." He gave me a beguiling, beseeching look, and I sighed in capitulation.
"Very well, my lord," and gave him a dryly brief description of my ancestor's betrayal of the Dunedain, and the prophecy, as described by Aragorn. Then I told him of the encounter itself, as dispassionately as I could, how I had been drawn to the Witch-King in spirit after while asleep in the Ranger barracks, and what he had said about why he'd been able to. The Prince's face clouded as I recounted this, and I could see that he knew something of what it cost me to tell the story once more.
"Then he promised me I could have Faramir, and be a great warlord, even a Queen, if I just did one thing for him."
"And what was that?"
"He wanted me to kill you. You were in command of the City at the time, and he wanted to take it quickly. He said you favored me, and I could get close enough to do it." Something moved momentarily behind the grey eyes so intent upon mine, but the Prince's voice was rather dry when he spoke.
"Interesting that he thought he knew so much of my mind. Since I am still here, I assume you said no."
"I think you overestimate my skills, my lord, but aye, I did, and he cursed me, and said that he'd set a fire in Faramir's flesh and that he would die in torment. When the Rangers found me, my hair was the way it is now." His hand made an abortive movement, quickly stilled, toward my head.
"I had wondered about that, in truth. I thought perhaps the battle had done it." I shrugged.
"When people ask, that's what I say--that I got scared. It's not like anyone would believe the real story. It was more like a dream than anything else. The worst possible dream you could have." I ducked around a tree trunk, and came back to the trail. The Prince looked as if he were pondering something.
"Faramir believed you when you told him?"
"Faramir knew I couldn't know that he'd been fevered, so what the Witch-King said about setting him on fire proved it to him."
"And Elrohir?"
"He knows everything there is to know about me, from being soul-bonded."
"Ah yes--and is not adverse to blurting it out at the worst possible time."
"He's doing better about that now." Imrahil gave me a skeptical look that indicated he thought Elrohir's improvement was more a lack of opportunity than a change for the better. I ignored it. "As for Lord Elrond, he made me tell him the story when I arrived, and I think he was doing some elven trick to see if I was telling the truth. It was the King who told me about my ancestor and the prophecy, but I don't know if Faramir or Elrohir have told him about my part in it." The Prince nodded thoughtfully.
"Snow.....steel indeed. I understand that now as well." I started getting pink, as usual.
"I thought you knew already, that Faramir had told you. And that that might be a reason why you would be willing to try me as a Swan Knight." He shook his head.
"I was the last one to know, this time. And you had shown more than enough merit in other areas to warrant me agreeing to take you as an esquire." After a moment's thoughtful regard, he said, "You must be very tired of people praising Eowyn of Rohan."
"Not really, sir. She destroyed him. All I did was tell him no." The Prince coughed suddenly.
"All you did was tell Angmar no? Face to face with him, offered everything you could ever want as a reward, and I would imagine terrified almost beyond sanity--and 'all you did was tell him no?'" I nodded, and he leaned back in his chair, smiling and shaking his head slowly as he looked at me. "You give me hope, Hethlin, you really do, that we might actually restore Gondor to its days of glory once more--if we have more like you. Thank you for telling me the story. I apologize for badgering you into doing it."
"It's all right, my lord. I thought you already knew, and if you didn't, I suppose you have the right to know. I'm going to go find Elrohir now." He nodded agreement.
"You do that. And do tell him how circumspect he's been." I gave him a look of mock horror.
"Oh no, my lord! It would be dangerous to have him thinking he's not being provoking enough!"
Imrahil laughed, and I went on my way.
Those of us who were to ride crossed the Celebrant in the small rowboats. Larger, swan-fronted vessels with more rowers and awnings awaited those who were to journey upon the river. The twins, Lord Glorfindel and I and the elves who were in charge of the other horses crossed the river, then proceeded on foot to the warders' stables where we found Caerith, Fortune, Nimfaun, Alagos, and a large number of horses, some Elven, some not. Elladan and Elrohir each took charge of an Elven horse besides their own, and I had Caerith and Fortune to deal with. Both had to be saddled, though I was only riding one, for there was no room in the boats for the horse equipment. Each of the elves who were riding also took charge of a second horse for someone on the boat, and there were pack horses as well. The riderless saddle horses were let run free with us bridleless, their stirrups knotted up. Some of them had parcels tied upon their saddles as well. The elven horses among them seemed to direct them and the pack horses, keeping them in a herd.
We traveled along the river for eight days, enjoying fair weather for the most part. We encountered no brigands or orc bands in that time, though we were such a large and well-armed party that they may very well have been there, but chose to lie quiet and let us pass rather than hazard their destruction to gain what would have been a prize beyond dreams. From time to time the elves in the boats would break out into song, and the sound of it would drift sweetly across the water to us; at other times the elves on horseback would sing some sort of riding song and return the favor. Needless to say, I was silent during these occasions.
What became apparent as we traveled along was that the Elves were in no particular hurry. We made about thirty miles a day on the river, and I could have easily traveled fifty. I had thought that Arwen would be in a hurry to get to Minas Tirith, and was puzzled by what I perceived as dawdling. But when I expressed my concerns to Elrohir, he just laughed.
"At times the journey is its own reward, Snowsteel. Remember, we do not feel any particular pressure of time--we will arrive when the time is right to do so. This is your mortal impatience speaking." Then he sobered. "Besides, Father wishes to spend this time with Arwen, as do my brother and I. And Grandfather wishes to tarry with Grandmother for a while. There will be time enough soon for long, swift journeys--and bitter partings as well." The sorrow sounding suddenly in his voice was so palpable that I did not bring up the subject again.
Other than that, the journey was quite pleasurable. Though I could not speak the Silvan tongue, the twins or Lord Glorfindel were usually about to interpret, and I spent some time talking with the Lothlorien archers and fletchers. They also showed me how to fletch arrows Elven-style in the evenings, after supper and my lesson with Lord Celeborn were finished. The Prince started walking a bit in the evenings with a stick, a little further every night. Lord Elrond watched him for the first couple of times, then apparently having decided that he knew not to overdo things, let him go his own pace.
Tales were told at night, as we sat about our fires, and oftentimes there would be singing. Elrohir would sit beside me and translate the stories and songs in the Silvan tongue, reminding me a bit of Eomer, and his brief stint as translator on the journey to Lorien. I would look up from the fire and find Lord Elrond's gaze fixed upon me, but he made no more objections to our keeping company either publicly or in private. I spoke often with Lady Arwen, telling her what I knew of Minas Tirith, and deferring to the Prince when I was out of my depth. She and Prince Imrahil continued their chess games--she had a travel set with pegged pieces that would fit into holes on the board, and not topple. Sometimes when he had finished a game with her, he would play another with me--a much smaller investment of time on his part.
Every morning I would wake to find that Caerith had been busy at his favorite pastime the night before. On the sixth day of this, as I once again cursed and scrubbed dried mud and scum from his hide, he suddenly nickered, and I looked up to see the Prince limping towards us. Smiling at me, he produced a sweet roll for the stallion, who inhaled it, then nudged him affectionately, nearly knocking him off his feet in the process. Imrahil moved to his side, and threw an arm across him, leaning his stick against the stallion's leg.
"Have you another brush, Hethlin?"
"Aye, my lord." I handed him mine, and he began to work on the right side of Caerith's neck while I fetched another from the saddlebags. He gave me a rueful smile.
"Sorry about this. You must be very tired of cleaning him up."
"I'm ready to kill him."
"Oh, please don't do that--he really is a most excellent warhorse. And they tell me we've only two more days of traveling by the river." I sighed at the prospect of two more days of scouring scum.
"You need to be eating your breakfast, sir, instead of trying to do this."
"I can't sit about or lay about forever, Hethlin. I'll just do a little--and a little more tomorrow. Speaking of which, when we all join together to go overland, I'm going to try riding for a short time each day, so I would appreciate it if you would ride him first in the mornings, to take a bit of the starch out." I gave him a somewhat doubtful look, and he gave me an imperious stare in return. "I am NOT going to ride into Minas Tirith in a horse litter and that's final, esquire."
"I understand, my lord." He brushed Caerith for another couple of minutes, then Lady Arwen came and took him off to breakfast. I followed shortly thereafter.
On the ninth day, the rest of the party took horse, and we said farewell to the rowers, who turned their boats about and began plying their oars against the current, singing as they went. There was some chaos that morning, as everyone sorted out their mount, and the camp equipment was distributed among the pack horses, but it was soon over and we were setting out, the Prince ensconced in his horse litter. Following his orders, I rode Caerith first that morning, giving him a bit of a run ahead of the other riders. We were traveling the South Undeep, the valley that lay between the Wold and the Downs. There were no trees, and the chalky ground was covered with grass. To our left the Downs were rolling hills that rose to chalky ridges, and upon our right hand the higher hills of the Wold rose, also covered with grass, which was already becoming sere in the warmer heat of the summer. It was a rather bleak and boring landscape, and I got the impression that the Elves were missing their trees already.
The Prince did indeed ride Caerith that day--for about ten minutes before, pale and exhausted, he had to be assisted back into the litter. Caerith, seeming to understand that something was amiss with his master, behaved most sedately, and despite the shortness of the ride, just the fact that he'd been able to ride at all cheered Imrahil immensely. A brief nap as we traveled sufficed to cure him of his weariness, and he was in a most excellent humor for the rest of the day. He informed me later that afternoon that he intended to tutor me in horsemanship during the journey, and when I bridled somewhat, explained that though I was an excellent rider already, I knew nothing of the special maneuvers a war horse could do. I owned that this was so, and he said that he could give me a bit of a head start by instructing me from the litter as I rode within his sight. "So as not to waste any time," he said with a grin.
True to his word, he started that very afternoon showing me the special commands common to well-trained warhorses--how to make them rear so as to strike frontally at enemies, and their lashing, rear kick attack. Caerith was also trained to lay down, though Fortune was not, and to kneel, which made things much easier for the Prince where mounting and dismounting were concerned. Both stallions enjoyed these sessions enormously, and would prance and bounce and be somewhat huffy for a while after we finished. And in truth, I was somewhat relieved to be going over these things with him now--I did not want to appear to be totally ignorant when I arrived at Dol Amroth.
My nights during the journey were spent sharing a tent with the Lady Arwen, for I would not have felt comfortable sharing a bed with Elrohir knowing that his disapproving father was separated from us by a mere couple of thicknesses of elven silk, and a little distance. While it was still a bit unnerving to wake up, look over and see the exquisite lady sleeping with her grey eyes wide open, staring at the roof of the tent, at least I didn't have to worry about getting a washbasin full of water in my face. And she was quite friendly and approachable for someone of her age and experience. I did ponder why I should remark upon that where she was concerned, while I simply accepted Elrohir and Elladan, who were even older, and finally decided that it was because she was a woman. I tended to judge women by a rather harsher standard than I reserved for my man friends, perhaps because I had spent so much time in the company of men and consequently, like them, found women a bit inexplicable at times.
I am not a heavy sleeper, unless I am wounded or ill. Oftentimes, noises wake me in the night. Usually, I am able to return to my rest once I ascertain the nature of the noise. So when Lady Arwen bestirred herself the second night away from the river, I came awake instantly. Her gaze flashed silver in the starlight through the tent flap as she looked over at me.
"I apologize, Lady Hethlin, I did not mean to wake you. I feel a desire to be with the stars for a time. By all means, go back to sleep." She gave me a considering glance. "Unless, of course, you wish to join me." I thought about the invitation.
"Give me a moment." She nodded, and I slid out of my bedroll, found my boots, pulled them on, then buckled sword and bow and quiver about me as rapidly as if an alarm had been sounded at Henneth-Annun. Lady Arwen looked at my weaponry as we left the tent, and smiled.
"Is all that truly necessary?" I grimaced.
"I let the Prince get shot, and that happened here in Rohan. I'm not taking any more chances. Better ridiculous and safe than dignified and dead." We walked through the silken tents, speaking very softly. Elves standing sentry did not acknowledge us, their keen eyes fixed on the surrounding terrain.
"You 'let' the Prince get shot? That is not how the Prince tells the story." Lady Arwen's voice was low and melodious as ever, but I heard the amusement in it.
"The Prince is a generous man."
"The Prince is a wise man. If he says you are not at fault, you would do well to believe him." It was not a rebuke, exactly. She lifted her head and looked up at the stars with a small smile. Her midnight hair stirred in the slight night breeze that arose suddenly, as if for that very purpose. "My brother seems more at ease these days. It appears that you have a comforting effect upon him. I would like to thank you for that." I blushed a little bit.
"I was afraid that you might be angry." She laughed softly.
"Angry that you lie with my brother? Hardly. Think you that in near three thousand years, the three of us have had no lovers? You are far less objectionable than a certain ashy-haired wench he took up with in Lorien about four hundred years ago." I had to pause and think about that one for a moment for several reasons--I was astonished to hear the demure Lady Arwen use a word like "wench", she had just admitted she was anything but a maiden, and she apparently found me to be a nicer person, mortal that I was, than at least one elf.
"Elrohir is rather unhappy about this," I offered tentatively.
"I am well aware of that," Lady Arwen replied gently. "He and Elladan and Father all grieve, and I grieve for them as well."
"Is he worth it?" I asked, for while the King was the most impressive man I knew, it still seemed an incredible sacrifice to make.
"Oh, yes." The answer came promptly and firmly. We walked in silence for some moments.
"How did the two of you fall in love? Didn't you change his diapers?" She lifted her head in a gesture very like her brother's, and her laugh floated almost silently towards the stars.
"I can see where you would get that idea, but I was actually in Lorien when Estel first came to Imladris as a child, and I did not return until he was twenty years old. He says he loved me the first moment he saw me, but for me, it took rather longer. It was not until he came to Lorien near thirty years later, that I knew what he had known for so long--that we were meant to be together. And now, it has been almost another forty years, and finally we are going to be wed." I stopped short in my tracks and looked at her in amazement.
"The King is nearly ninety years old?" She stopped as well, and looked at me with a smile.
"But of course. He is of the purest line of the Dunedain. You are not surprised at Prince Imrahil's vigor, and he is of Southern stock, which has been much adulterated with the blood of other Men. You yourself are of similar lineage to the King, and may reasonably expect twice the span of years that lesser men enjoy." I gave myself a shake.
"I see." Lady Arwen watched me for a moment, then apparently deciding that I was all right, began to walk once more. I fell in beside her.
"You know, my lady, my life would have been so much simpler if my father had just sat me down by the hearth one night and said--'Hethlin, my lass, I left the North because a man was jealous of your mother and myself, not because I did anything wrong, and by the way, your mother is a kinswoman of the Chieftain of the Dunedain, and my family line is despised by them because one of your ancestors sold himself to Angmar and cursed us all, and oh, incidentally, Angmar might come calling one day, don't be too surprised if that happens, and oh yes, I almost forgot to tell you, you can talk to Eagles, watch your manners with them when you do, and you're going to live for one hundred and forty years.' That would have about covered everything I've had to find out the hard way so far."
Lady Arwen's hand clamped over her mouth, and I heard her laughter explode beneath it. Some time passed before she took the hand away from her mouth to wipe her eyes, and look upon me with a decided twinkle in their depths.
"You have my sympathy, Lady Hethlin. I too, have a father who is less than forthcoming at times."
"He has no trouble telling me exactly how he feels." She sobered somewhat, and I threw up my hand in apology. "I'm sorry, my lady. What lies between us is no fault of yours, and I should not trouble you with it."
"Actually, it is rather my fault, Lady Hethlin." I snorted.
"I know you believe that, but I don't. And would you grant me a boon, please?" She gave me a questioning look. "Please stop calling me 'Lady' Hethlin. I keep looking around for who you're really talking to. Besides, it's simply not right that someone like you should be calling me 'Lady'. 'Hethlin' will do very well. Or even 'Heth'." I gave her a tentative smile. "That's what my friends call me. I've also been known to answer to 'Snowsteel' from time to time." A pleased expression came over her face.
"I should not like to usurp Elrohir's name for you--I might get spiders in my bed, or worse! But 'Hethlin' it is--I shall wait a while to call you 'Heth'. I know that mortals are swifter to make friends, but I do not know you well enough yet to call you so--it would be presumptuous on my part." She walked on for a few moments in silence, then spoke once more. "I own, I am somewhat frightened at the prospect of living in Minas Tirith among Men."
"Elrohir tells me that all sorts of folk visit Rivendell, including the Dunedain. Surely you are accustomed to them?"
"Indeed, and have had many years to study how to make them comfortable and tend to their needs. But being the Elven hostess of an Elven stronghold that welcomes Men and Dwarves and other such folk is different than being the Queen of Gondor, surrounded by only Men."
"Oh, I shouldn't worry about that, were I you," I said reassuringly. "We're a callow lot, we mortals." She chuckled softly. "Everyone will fall in love with you because you are so beautiful, and then they'll stay in love with you because you are wise and kind. Besides, the King was raised in your household, but has also spent much of his life among Men. He will understand exactly which things bother you the most, and will know how to help you deal with them."
"Yes, I suppose that Estel will be my greatest help in this," she said, and smiled such a smile as she thought upon her love that she became even more beautiful, were that possible. I looked upon her and sighed, jealous not of her beauty, but of the bond she obviously shared with the King. Seeming to sense my thought, she looked upon me kindly.
"You too will know love one day, Hethlin--I am sure of it."
"I already know what it is to love, lady--I am simply not loved in return."
"The Steward of Gondor?" At my start, she explained, " I have spent much time with the Prince, and I will own I asked about you, because I was curious about the person Estel had picked to be my bodyguard. The Prince was not overly forthcoming, but he did say you had saved his nephew's life, and were in love with him, and that he was betrothed instead to Eowyn of Rohan. And though he did not come out and say it, I came to understand that he would rather have had Faramir betrothed to you."
"He told me as much once," I admitted, "But there was no future in it. Had Faramir ever given a moment's indication that he desired me in that way, I would have fought Eowyn for him tooth and nail. But he never saw me as a woman--I was his companion in arms, a Ranger, a courier, a fletcher, a friend. A good, close friend, as it turns out, and that will have to be enough to content me, I suppose."
"And my brother?" We had made a circuit about the camp, and were drawing near to our own tent at last. My lips curled up in a smile I had never made till after Elrohir and I had spent that first night together on Cerin Amroth.
"Another good friend. And though you say I have comforted him, lady, he has healed me every bit as much in return, and I will be forever grateful for that. You know of the orcs, I take it." She nodded.
"You suffered even as my mother did."
"I don't know that I had as bad a time as she did, but besides being barren, I was afraid that in the unlikely event I should find a man who would love me, I would not be able to bring myself to lie with him. Now, thanks to Elrohir, I know that I will be all right. And that is a very great gift indeed. It almost makes up for the times when he's being provoking!"
We came to the door, and both of us ducked back inside, by unspoken agreement bringing our late night stroll to an end. I could see the flash of Lady Arwen's smile in the darkness.
"He truly is a brat at times, is he not?" She slipped out of the robe she had donned for her walk, and I began removing my arsenal. "I am going to be a very bad sister here, Hethlin, and give you something with which to defend yourself from my brother, since I imagine he knows everything there is to know about you." And as we returned to our bedrolls, and before we settled in to sleep once more at last, she proceeded to quietly tell me three of the most embarrassing, humiliating incidents from his childhood she could think of, all of them pranks that had gone badly for him. I had to bite my pillow to stifle the laughter a couple of times.
"Only to be used in direst necessity of course," she told me with utmost gravity, and I agreed that I would heed her words with equal seriousness.
"It does seem to be the one thing he truly fears. He refuses to tell me anything about Elladan because he says Elladan has many more stories about him that he doesn't want known." This drew yet another chuckle from her, and this one had a decidedly evil edge to it.
"Then perhaps, if you ever have cause to use them, I will be fortunate and Elladan will take the blame!"
We wished each other a good night, and drifted off into dreaming.
Elrohir woke me in the darkness before the dawn. We washed up hurriedly, then dressed. It felt odd to arm and armor myself once more--Lorien had been much like Ithilien for me in that I had gone clad lightly like a Ranger, and I had that momentary feeling of being weighted down, and wanting to be rid of the hauberk that I had used to get. For his part, Elrohir was going to have to return to his quarters to retrieve his gear, but he embraced me before he left.
"Will we be able to keep doing this when we return to Minas Tirith?" I asked him as we stood with our arms about each other. He hugged me to him tightly.
"That I do not know, Snowsteel. We shall simply have to see. Hopefully, opportunities will present themselves." He held me out at arms' length and gave me a very serious look. "I do want you to know that I do not expect you to spend your life waiting about for me to make time for you. We are friends. If you should find some young Man you fancy, you need not fear my ire--or my interference." I grinned at him.
"Tired of me already?" In response, he gathered me close again and kissed the top of my head.
"Hardly. But your Prince's concern has some basis in fact. I am an Elf, and I have been known to go off exploring somewhere, or become engaged in some project or other, and when next I think about it, ten years have passed. Which means little to me, but for you, the passage of time is another matter entirely." I gave him a squeeze and stepped back.
"I think you just don't want to be bothered with me when I'm old and wrinkled, but if this show of concern makes you feel better, then so be it. The same applies to you, as well, you realize--if you should find some beautiful Elven maiden, don't worry about me throwing a fuss." He gave me one of his rare, sweet smiles.
"I have met most of the beautiful Elven maidens in Middle-earth, Snowsteel, and kept company with a few of them. I have yet to find one who engages my heart to the extent that I would consider bonding with her. But I will agree with you that we should both be free to look for a life partner." He started out the door of the flet and paused.
"All your Elven things have already been packed with the items that are going on the boats, so just bring your saddlebags. I'll meet you downstairs." I gave him a cheerful wave and continued my packing.
Quite the procession left Caras Galadon-- the Lord and Lady of Lorien, Lord Elrond, his sons and daughters, the Lord Glorfindel, and a great train of the members of both households. Much to my amazement, both the Lady Galadriel and the Lady Arwen were clad in ranger fashion, and both of them carried bows. In the midst of all this was the Prince, being carried in another litter. I caught up to him, and walked beside him where the trail allowed.
"How are you feeling this morning, my lord?" In the early morning light, his face was flush with color, and his voice was strong enough. I worried about the strain this trip would be on him, but at least he looked as if he were starting it in relatively good condition.
"Rather parcel-like, if you must know the truth. I keep having the most peculiar dreams about being a package. Of course, that could be because that is exactly what I was." I chuckled.
"Indeed, my lord. The twins and I bound your blankets about you with cord so that you would not become chilled during the trip. You were not happy about it at the time, and I am sorry if it has caused you to have bad dreams."
"I have no complaints, Hethlin. Alphor will undoubtedly be most amused at the tale of his flying-post grandfather when he's a little older. Are you sorry to be leaving Lorien?"
"I should have liked to stay a little longer, I'll admit, but it may be for the best. This seems a place where you could lose track of time very easily."
"Indeed. Not necessarily a good place for a mortal to stay for any length of time, though I will ever be glad that I got the opportunity to see it." I hopped over a root.
"You didn't get to see much of it."
"I saw more than you might think. While you were out roaming the forests, I would talk to the Elves. Lady Arwen was kind enough to interpret for me with those who did not speak Sindarin. I could not go about in Lorien, so they brought Lorien to me. If I expressed an interest in how they did something, or one of their crafts, they would bring a person to me who could answer my questions. They were very kind hosts and nurses both."
"I am glad you found it worth your while, my lord."
"Just the Mirror by itself made the journey worthwhile."
"What was it you asked to see, if I may be so bold? Whatever it was, you seemed to enjoy it."
"Things out of legend, Hethlin, out of old songs and stories. Wondrous things." The glow was back in his eyes again, but after a moment, he returned to himself. "I wish your experience with the Mirror had been as nice as mine." I grimaced.
"Maybe it wasn't because I was so scornful. If I'd come into it more respectfully, perhaps my visions would have been......kinder. Or perhaps I should have asked to see something specific, as you did." The Prince gave me a quizzical look.
"What would you ask to see, if you had it to do again?"
"I'm not sure. What you said about your loved ones living in your memories, that was very true. And I know very few old legends to do as you did. Maybe......maybe I might have asked to see my ancestor, the one who sold his soul to the Witch-King. To see why he had done it. Then again, maybe not. Seeing the Witch-King once was enough." Imrahil sat up a little straighter.
"Do you know, Hethlin, I have never heard that tale told in its entirety? And it is a story I think I should like to hear. Elrohir told me the other night about Angmar sending you to the Grey Lands, but naught about what came before."
"Did Faramir never tell you about it, my lord?"
"No, it never came up. But then, he might have felt it was a private matter."
"In truth, it is not a tale I particularly wish to tell, my lord."
"Please, Hethlin--I really would like to hear it." He gave me a beguiling, beseeching look, and I sighed in capitulation.
"Very well, my lord," and gave him a dryly brief description of my ancestor's betrayal of the Dunedain, and the prophecy, as described by Aragorn. Then I told him of the encounter itself, as dispassionately as I could, how I had been drawn to the Witch-King in spirit after while asleep in the Ranger barracks, and what he had said about why he'd been able to. The Prince's face clouded as I recounted this, and I could see that he knew something of what it cost me to tell the story once more.
"Then he promised me I could have Faramir, and be a great warlord, even a Queen, if I just did one thing for him."
"And what was that?"
"He wanted me to kill you. You were in command of the City at the time, and he wanted to take it quickly. He said you favored me, and I could get close enough to do it." Something moved momentarily behind the grey eyes so intent upon mine, but the Prince's voice was rather dry when he spoke.
"Interesting that he thought he knew so much of my mind. Since I am still here, I assume you said no."
"I think you overestimate my skills, my lord, but aye, I did, and he cursed me, and said that he'd set a fire in Faramir's flesh and that he would die in torment. When the Rangers found me, my hair was the way it is now." His hand made an abortive movement, quickly stilled, toward my head.
"I had wondered about that, in truth. I thought perhaps the battle had done it." I shrugged.
"When people ask, that's what I say--that I got scared. It's not like anyone would believe the real story. It was more like a dream than anything else. The worst possible dream you could have." I ducked around a tree trunk, and came back to the trail. The Prince looked as if he were pondering something.
"Faramir believed you when you told him?"
"Faramir knew I couldn't know that he'd been fevered, so what the Witch-King said about setting him on fire proved it to him."
"And Elrohir?"
"He knows everything there is to know about me, from being soul-bonded."
"Ah yes--and is not adverse to blurting it out at the worst possible time."
"He's doing better about that now." Imrahil gave me a skeptical look that indicated he thought Elrohir's improvement was more a lack of opportunity than a change for the better. I ignored it. "As for Lord Elrond, he made me tell him the story when I arrived, and I think he was doing some elven trick to see if I was telling the truth. It was the King who told me about my ancestor and the prophecy, but I don't know if Faramir or Elrohir have told him about my part in it." The Prince nodded thoughtfully.
"Snow.....steel indeed. I understand that now as well." I started getting pink, as usual.
"I thought you knew already, that Faramir had told you. And that that might be a reason why you would be willing to try me as a Swan Knight." He shook his head.
"I was the last one to know, this time. And you had shown more than enough merit in other areas to warrant me agreeing to take you as an esquire." After a moment's thoughtful regard, he said, "You must be very tired of people praising Eowyn of Rohan."
"Not really, sir. She destroyed him. All I did was tell him no." The Prince coughed suddenly.
"All you did was tell Angmar no? Face to face with him, offered everything you could ever want as a reward, and I would imagine terrified almost beyond sanity--and 'all you did was tell him no?'" I nodded, and he leaned back in his chair, smiling and shaking his head slowly as he looked at me. "You give me hope, Hethlin, you really do, that we might actually restore Gondor to its days of glory once more--if we have more like you. Thank you for telling me the story. I apologize for badgering you into doing it."
"It's all right, my lord. I thought you already knew, and if you didn't, I suppose you have the right to know. I'm going to go find Elrohir now." He nodded agreement.
"You do that. And do tell him how circumspect he's been." I gave him a look of mock horror.
"Oh no, my lord! It would be dangerous to have him thinking he's not being provoking enough!"
Imrahil laughed, and I went on my way.
Those of us who were to ride crossed the Celebrant in the small rowboats. Larger, swan-fronted vessels with more rowers and awnings awaited those who were to journey upon the river. The twins, Lord Glorfindel and I and the elves who were in charge of the other horses crossed the river, then proceeded on foot to the warders' stables where we found Caerith, Fortune, Nimfaun, Alagos, and a large number of horses, some Elven, some not. Elladan and Elrohir each took charge of an Elven horse besides their own, and I had Caerith and Fortune to deal with. Both had to be saddled, though I was only riding one, for there was no room in the boats for the horse equipment. Each of the elves who were riding also took charge of a second horse for someone on the boat, and there were pack horses as well. The riderless saddle horses were let run free with us bridleless, their stirrups knotted up. Some of them had parcels tied upon their saddles as well. The elven horses among them seemed to direct them and the pack horses, keeping them in a herd.
We traveled along the river for eight days, enjoying fair weather for the most part. We encountered no brigands or orc bands in that time, though we were such a large and well-armed party that they may very well have been there, but chose to lie quiet and let us pass rather than hazard their destruction to gain what would have been a prize beyond dreams. From time to time the elves in the boats would break out into song, and the sound of it would drift sweetly across the water to us; at other times the elves on horseback would sing some sort of riding song and return the favor. Needless to say, I was silent during these occasions.
What became apparent as we traveled along was that the Elves were in no particular hurry. We made about thirty miles a day on the river, and I could have easily traveled fifty. I had thought that Arwen would be in a hurry to get to Minas Tirith, and was puzzled by what I perceived as dawdling. But when I expressed my concerns to Elrohir, he just laughed.
"At times the journey is its own reward, Snowsteel. Remember, we do not feel any particular pressure of time--we will arrive when the time is right to do so. This is your mortal impatience speaking." Then he sobered. "Besides, Father wishes to spend this time with Arwen, as do my brother and I. And Grandfather wishes to tarry with Grandmother for a while. There will be time enough soon for long, swift journeys--and bitter partings as well." The sorrow sounding suddenly in his voice was so palpable that I did not bring up the subject again.
Other than that, the journey was quite pleasurable. Though I could not speak the Silvan tongue, the twins or Lord Glorfindel were usually about to interpret, and I spent some time talking with the Lothlorien archers and fletchers. They also showed me how to fletch arrows Elven-style in the evenings, after supper and my lesson with Lord Celeborn were finished. The Prince started walking a bit in the evenings with a stick, a little further every night. Lord Elrond watched him for the first couple of times, then apparently having decided that he knew not to overdo things, let him go his own pace.
Tales were told at night, as we sat about our fires, and oftentimes there would be singing. Elrohir would sit beside me and translate the stories and songs in the Silvan tongue, reminding me a bit of Eomer, and his brief stint as translator on the journey to Lorien. I would look up from the fire and find Lord Elrond's gaze fixed upon me, but he made no more objections to our keeping company either publicly or in private. I spoke often with Lady Arwen, telling her what I knew of Minas Tirith, and deferring to the Prince when I was out of my depth. She and Prince Imrahil continued their chess games--she had a travel set with pegged pieces that would fit into holes on the board, and not topple. Sometimes when he had finished a game with her, he would play another with me--a much smaller investment of time on his part.
Every morning I would wake to find that Caerith had been busy at his favorite pastime the night before. On the sixth day of this, as I once again cursed and scrubbed dried mud and scum from his hide, he suddenly nickered, and I looked up to see the Prince limping towards us. Smiling at me, he produced a sweet roll for the stallion, who inhaled it, then nudged him affectionately, nearly knocking him off his feet in the process. Imrahil moved to his side, and threw an arm across him, leaning his stick against the stallion's leg.
"Have you another brush, Hethlin?"
"Aye, my lord." I handed him mine, and he began to work on the right side of Caerith's neck while I fetched another from the saddlebags. He gave me a rueful smile.
"Sorry about this. You must be very tired of cleaning him up."
"I'm ready to kill him."
"Oh, please don't do that--he really is a most excellent warhorse. And they tell me we've only two more days of traveling by the river." I sighed at the prospect of two more days of scouring scum.
"You need to be eating your breakfast, sir, instead of trying to do this."
"I can't sit about or lay about forever, Hethlin. I'll just do a little--and a little more tomorrow. Speaking of which, when we all join together to go overland, I'm going to try riding for a short time each day, so I would appreciate it if you would ride him first in the mornings, to take a bit of the starch out." I gave him a somewhat doubtful look, and he gave me an imperious stare in return. "I am NOT going to ride into Minas Tirith in a horse litter and that's final, esquire."
"I understand, my lord." He brushed Caerith for another couple of minutes, then Lady Arwen came and took him off to breakfast. I followed shortly thereafter.
On the ninth day, the rest of the party took horse, and we said farewell to the rowers, who turned their boats about and began plying their oars against the current, singing as they went. There was some chaos that morning, as everyone sorted out their mount, and the camp equipment was distributed among the pack horses, but it was soon over and we were setting out, the Prince ensconced in his horse litter. Following his orders, I rode Caerith first that morning, giving him a bit of a run ahead of the other riders. We were traveling the South Undeep, the valley that lay between the Wold and the Downs. There were no trees, and the chalky ground was covered with grass. To our left the Downs were rolling hills that rose to chalky ridges, and upon our right hand the higher hills of the Wold rose, also covered with grass, which was already becoming sere in the warmer heat of the summer. It was a rather bleak and boring landscape, and I got the impression that the Elves were missing their trees already.
The Prince did indeed ride Caerith that day--for about ten minutes before, pale and exhausted, he had to be assisted back into the litter. Caerith, seeming to understand that something was amiss with his master, behaved most sedately, and despite the shortness of the ride, just the fact that he'd been able to ride at all cheered Imrahil immensely. A brief nap as we traveled sufficed to cure him of his weariness, and he was in a most excellent humor for the rest of the day. He informed me later that afternoon that he intended to tutor me in horsemanship during the journey, and when I bridled somewhat, explained that though I was an excellent rider already, I knew nothing of the special maneuvers a war horse could do. I owned that this was so, and he said that he could give me a bit of a head start by instructing me from the litter as I rode within his sight. "So as not to waste any time," he said with a grin.
True to his word, he started that very afternoon showing me the special commands common to well-trained warhorses--how to make them rear so as to strike frontally at enemies, and their lashing, rear kick attack. Caerith was also trained to lay down, though Fortune was not, and to kneel, which made things much easier for the Prince where mounting and dismounting were concerned. Both stallions enjoyed these sessions enormously, and would prance and bounce and be somewhat huffy for a while after we finished. And in truth, I was somewhat relieved to be going over these things with him now--I did not want to appear to be totally ignorant when I arrived at Dol Amroth.
My nights during the journey were spent sharing a tent with the Lady Arwen, for I would not have felt comfortable sharing a bed with Elrohir knowing that his disapproving father was separated from us by a mere couple of thicknesses of elven silk, and a little distance. While it was still a bit unnerving to wake up, look over and see the exquisite lady sleeping with her grey eyes wide open, staring at the roof of the tent, at least I didn't have to worry about getting a washbasin full of water in my face. And she was quite friendly and approachable for someone of her age and experience. I did ponder why I should remark upon that where she was concerned, while I simply accepted Elrohir and Elladan, who were even older, and finally decided that it was because she was a woman. I tended to judge women by a rather harsher standard than I reserved for my man friends, perhaps because I had spent so much time in the company of men and consequently, like them, found women a bit inexplicable at times.
I am not a heavy sleeper, unless I am wounded or ill. Oftentimes, noises wake me in the night. Usually, I am able to return to my rest once I ascertain the nature of the noise. So when Lady Arwen bestirred herself the second night away from the river, I came awake instantly. Her gaze flashed silver in the starlight through the tent flap as she looked over at me.
"I apologize, Lady Hethlin, I did not mean to wake you. I feel a desire to be with the stars for a time. By all means, go back to sleep." She gave me a considering glance. "Unless, of course, you wish to join me." I thought about the invitation.
"Give me a moment." She nodded, and I slid out of my bedroll, found my boots, pulled them on, then buckled sword and bow and quiver about me as rapidly as if an alarm had been sounded at Henneth-Annun. Lady Arwen looked at my weaponry as we left the tent, and smiled.
"Is all that truly necessary?" I grimaced.
"I let the Prince get shot, and that happened here in Rohan. I'm not taking any more chances. Better ridiculous and safe than dignified and dead." We walked through the silken tents, speaking very softly. Elves standing sentry did not acknowledge us, their keen eyes fixed on the surrounding terrain.
"You 'let' the Prince get shot? That is not how the Prince tells the story." Lady Arwen's voice was low and melodious as ever, but I heard the amusement in it.
"The Prince is a generous man."
"The Prince is a wise man. If he says you are not at fault, you would do well to believe him." It was not a rebuke, exactly. She lifted her head and looked up at the stars with a small smile. Her midnight hair stirred in the slight night breeze that arose suddenly, as if for that very purpose. "My brother seems more at ease these days. It appears that you have a comforting effect upon him. I would like to thank you for that." I blushed a little bit.
"I was afraid that you might be angry." She laughed softly.
"Angry that you lie with my brother? Hardly. Think you that in near three thousand years, the three of us have had no lovers? You are far less objectionable than a certain ashy-haired wench he took up with in Lorien about four hundred years ago." I had to pause and think about that one for a moment for several reasons--I was astonished to hear the demure Lady Arwen use a word like "wench", she had just admitted she was anything but a maiden, and she apparently found me to be a nicer person, mortal that I was, than at least one elf.
"Elrohir is rather unhappy about this," I offered tentatively.
"I am well aware of that," Lady Arwen replied gently. "He and Elladan and Father all grieve, and I grieve for them as well."
"Is he worth it?" I asked, for while the King was the most impressive man I knew, it still seemed an incredible sacrifice to make.
"Oh, yes." The answer came promptly and firmly. We walked in silence for some moments.
"How did the two of you fall in love? Didn't you change his diapers?" She lifted her head in a gesture very like her brother's, and her laugh floated almost silently towards the stars.
"I can see where you would get that idea, but I was actually in Lorien when Estel first came to Imladris as a child, and I did not return until he was twenty years old. He says he loved me the first moment he saw me, but for me, it took rather longer. It was not until he came to Lorien near thirty years later, that I knew what he had known for so long--that we were meant to be together. And now, it has been almost another forty years, and finally we are going to be wed." I stopped short in my tracks and looked at her in amazement.
"The King is nearly ninety years old?" She stopped as well, and looked at me with a smile.
"But of course. He is of the purest line of the Dunedain. You are not surprised at Prince Imrahil's vigor, and he is of Southern stock, which has been much adulterated with the blood of other Men. You yourself are of similar lineage to the King, and may reasonably expect twice the span of years that lesser men enjoy." I gave myself a shake.
"I see." Lady Arwen watched me for a moment, then apparently deciding that I was all right, began to walk once more. I fell in beside her.
"You know, my lady, my life would have been so much simpler if my father had just sat me down by the hearth one night and said--'Hethlin, my lass, I left the North because a man was jealous of your mother and myself, not because I did anything wrong, and by the way, your mother is a kinswoman of the Chieftain of the Dunedain, and my family line is despised by them because one of your ancestors sold himself to Angmar and cursed us all, and oh, incidentally, Angmar might come calling one day, don't be too surprised if that happens, and oh yes, I almost forgot to tell you, you can talk to Eagles, watch your manners with them when you do, and you're going to live for one hundred and forty years.' That would have about covered everything I've had to find out the hard way so far."
Lady Arwen's hand clamped over her mouth, and I heard her laughter explode beneath it. Some time passed before she took the hand away from her mouth to wipe her eyes, and look upon me with a decided twinkle in their depths.
"You have my sympathy, Lady Hethlin. I too, have a father who is less than forthcoming at times."
"He has no trouble telling me exactly how he feels." She sobered somewhat, and I threw up my hand in apology. "I'm sorry, my lady. What lies between us is no fault of yours, and I should not trouble you with it."
"Actually, it is rather my fault, Lady Hethlin." I snorted.
"I know you believe that, but I don't. And would you grant me a boon, please?" She gave me a questioning look. "Please stop calling me 'Lady' Hethlin. I keep looking around for who you're really talking to. Besides, it's simply not right that someone like you should be calling me 'Lady'. 'Hethlin' will do very well. Or even 'Heth'." I gave her a tentative smile. "That's what my friends call me. I've also been known to answer to 'Snowsteel' from time to time." A pleased expression came over her face.
"I should not like to usurp Elrohir's name for you--I might get spiders in my bed, or worse! But 'Hethlin' it is--I shall wait a while to call you 'Heth'. I know that mortals are swifter to make friends, but I do not know you well enough yet to call you so--it would be presumptuous on my part." She walked on for a few moments in silence, then spoke once more. "I own, I am somewhat frightened at the prospect of living in Minas Tirith among Men."
"Elrohir tells me that all sorts of folk visit Rivendell, including the Dunedain. Surely you are accustomed to them?"
"Indeed, and have had many years to study how to make them comfortable and tend to their needs. But being the Elven hostess of an Elven stronghold that welcomes Men and Dwarves and other such folk is different than being the Queen of Gondor, surrounded by only Men."
"Oh, I shouldn't worry about that, were I you," I said reassuringly. "We're a callow lot, we mortals." She chuckled softly. "Everyone will fall in love with you because you are so beautiful, and then they'll stay in love with you because you are wise and kind. Besides, the King was raised in your household, but has also spent much of his life among Men. He will understand exactly which things bother you the most, and will know how to help you deal with them."
"Yes, I suppose that Estel will be my greatest help in this," she said, and smiled such a smile as she thought upon her love that she became even more beautiful, were that possible. I looked upon her and sighed, jealous not of her beauty, but of the bond she obviously shared with the King. Seeming to sense my thought, she looked upon me kindly.
"You too will know love one day, Hethlin--I am sure of it."
"I already know what it is to love, lady--I am simply not loved in return."
"The Steward of Gondor?" At my start, she explained, " I have spent much time with the Prince, and I will own I asked about you, because I was curious about the person Estel had picked to be my bodyguard. The Prince was not overly forthcoming, but he did say you had saved his nephew's life, and were in love with him, and that he was betrothed instead to Eowyn of Rohan. And though he did not come out and say it, I came to understand that he would rather have had Faramir betrothed to you."
"He told me as much once," I admitted, "But there was no future in it. Had Faramir ever given a moment's indication that he desired me in that way, I would have fought Eowyn for him tooth and nail. But he never saw me as a woman--I was his companion in arms, a Ranger, a courier, a fletcher, a friend. A good, close friend, as it turns out, and that will have to be enough to content me, I suppose."
"And my brother?" We had made a circuit about the camp, and were drawing near to our own tent at last. My lips curled up in a smile I had never made till after Elrohir and I had spent that first night together on Cerin Amroth.
"Another good friend. And though you say I have comforted him, lady, he has healed me every bit as much in return, and I will be forever grateful for that. You know of the orcs, I take it." She nodded.
"You suffered even as my mother did."
"I don't know that I had as bad a time as she did, but besides being barren, I was afraid that in the unlikely event I should find a man who would love me, I would not be able to bring myself to lie with him. Now, thanks to Elrohir, I know that I will be all right. And that is a very great gift indeed. It almost makes up for the times when he's being provoking!"
We came to the door, and both of us ducked back inside, by unspoken agreement bringing our late night stroll to an end. I could see the flash of Lady Arwen's smile in the darkness.
"He truly is a brat at times, is he not?" She slipped out of the robe she had donned for her walk, and I began removing my arsenal. "I am going to be a very bad sister here, Hethlin, and give you something with which to defend yourself from my brother, since I imagine he knows everything there is to know about you." And as we returned to our bedrolls, and before we settled in to sleep once more at last, she proceeded to quietly tell me three of the most embarrassing, humiliating incidents from his childhood she could think of, all of them pranks that had gone badly for him. I had to bite my pillow to stifle the laughter a couple of times.
"Only to be used in direst necessity of course," she told me with utmost gravity, and I agreed that I would heed her words with equal seriousness.
"It does seem to be the one thing he truly fears. He refuses to tell me anything about Elladan because he says Elladan has many more stories about him that he doesn't want known." This drew yet another chuckle from her, and this one had a decidedly evil edge to it.
"Then perhaps, if you ever have cause to use them, I will be fortunate and Elladan will take the blame!"
We wished each other a good night, and drifted off into dreaming.