Author's Note--I had originally concieved of Lady Tirathiel as being Prince Imrahil's wife Nimirien's sister, but Soledad adopted her and developed her character so much more nicely in her story Seaside Conversations, that I discarded my original conception and went with hers of the Iron Lady, Nimrien's aunt, and possibly the only person Denethor was ever afraid of. Thanks, Soledad!
I stepped into the room to find four surprised faces looking at me. Frodo Baggins was seated in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, a book in his hands. Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took were seated side-by-side upon the high bed, their feet dangling. And Samwise Gamgee stood in the door of the balcony, clutching a small potted plant in his hands, having nearly dropped it in his startlement.
"Hullo, Merry," I said, he being the hobbit I knew best from our convalescence in the Houses of Healing.
"Lady Hethlin!" he replied. "We thought this was a guest room. We did not know that these were your chambers."
"They may not be," I said, going to the wardrobe and throwing the doors open. My clothes still hung within. "Hmmmmm. I suppose they still are." Seeing their puzzled looks, I grinned. "There is some question--I am supposed to be moving to the Prince of Dol Amroth's townhouse soon. And a week's stay is not a very strong claim."
"We did not mean to intrude, lady," said Frodo, rising to his feet. "Come Sam, finish up there so that we might leave the lady in peace." Samwise, who had turned beet red, stammered an assent, and took his small green charge back onto the terrace. I draped my saddlebags over the foot of the bed.
"Do not hasten off upon my account, gentleman. Glad I am to have the opportunity to meet Master Baggins and Master Gamgee again in more peaceful circumstances. And to meet Master Took for the first time, for though I have seen him in the city, we've not yet been introduced. I am curious as to what all of you are doing here, however."
"Sam is tending the plants," said Peregrin Took, his voice slightly higher than those of the other hobbits. "And we are keeping him company. Besides, it is quiet up here. One gets weary of being stared at by Big People--even if they mean well," he hastily added. I chuckled, and began unbuckling my sword and bow and racking them..
"No offense taken, Master Took. I imagine it is a bit of a trial. You do not need to go if you wish to stay a while longer in peace and quiet--and if you do not mind the company of someone who has been on the road and needs a bath. I had thought to ring for some tea, and you are certainly welcome to join me." All of the hobbits, even Master Baggins, brightened at the mention of food, and the Valar knew Frodo still looked like he could use some.
"That sounds very nice, Lady Hethlin," Meriadoc said, after a quick glance at Frodo for confirmation.
"I should say so!" exclaimed Peregrin enthusiastically. "There's this fellow in the kitchen who just doesn't understand the difference between tea and supper and dinner. 'But you have had your tea, little masters,' he tells us, 'and now must wait upon dinner, for though supplies are more plentiful now, who can say when trouble will come again? And it is difficult enough putting three meals and tea upon the boards for such finicky lords, without others wanting six. You have no idea of the trouble involved.'" I laughed.
"I think I know the fellow you speak of. He gave me and a couple of my fellow Rangers a lecture upon the scarcity of chickens in war-time once, after we'd ridden here with Lord Faramir."
Frodo looked enlightened all of a sudden. "You were with the Rangers, then? Is that why you said you'd met us before?"
"Aye. I was there the day Faramir found you in Ithilien, and the Haradrim came calling." I shrugged out of my hauberk, and hung it on the rack.
"I'm sorry, but I don't remember you, and I think I would," Frodo commented, gesturing towards my hair.
"My hair was black then. This happened after the Pelennor," I explained. "And I only spoke to you once, when I was helping to serve dinner. The rest of the time I kept to myself in a corner and fletched arrows." Master Baggins gave me a very intent stare for a moment, then nodded.
"I remember now. Sam and I thought you a lad."
"Which was what you were supposed to think." I went to the bell pull by the bed, and pulled it, curious to see who or what would appear, then removed my gambeson with a grimace, and carried it off to the bathing room. Ducking back out momentarily to grab a fresh shirt and tunic from the wardrobe, I excused myself briefly from my guests.
"I will be right back. If someone shows up, go ahead and order the tea." Then I closed the door, did a quick cat bath at the washstand, and changed into the fresh clothes. My return to the bedroom coincided with Felith's arrival.
"My lady!" she exclaimed. "No one informed me that you were here!" She spied my bandaged hand and gasped. "You are injured! What happened to you?" The hobbits gave me curious looks.
"I ran into some orcs on the way home. It's not serious, and it is healing very well." Thanks to Lord Elrond's ministrations, I added to myself silently. Felith was appalled.
"You poor thing! Why those men keep letting you do such things is beyond me! Whatever is the King thinking of?" I frowned a little.
"The King is thinking that I am a soldier, Felith, and a good one. I am going to be wanting a hot bath later on, but my friends and I would like some tea now, if that is possible."
"I do not know if it will be possible or not," she replied, troubled. 'The kitchen is in an uproar. The King showed up at noon, and ordered a great feast for this evening. No one knows why. In any event, they are all a-bustle down there, but I will see what may be done." And she curtseyed, and left us. Meriadoc gave me a sharp-eyed look.
"You wouldn't happen to know why the King is having a feast tonight, would you, Lady Hethlin?" I smiled knowingly at him.
"Whatever would give you that idea, Master Brandybuck?"
"Nothing at all--save that you have just returned from a long journey, about which you have said nothing, and now suddenly everyone is 'a-bustle'. The timing is a bit suspicious."
"Unfortunately, I may not speak of my journey, or its purpose--though I suspect you will know soon enough. But I do know what is going on, and when you do learn, you will be very pleased by it, if I don't miss my guess." Suddenly, I found myself the object of a battery of bright-eyed hobbit stares.
"Well! If we are to learn soon enough anyway, I don't see why you can't go ahead and tell us," wheedled Peregrin most beguilingly, but I held firm.
"It is a surprise, and it is the King's surprise. It would take someone far more charming than you, Master Took, to wrest the secret from me in the face of Aragorn's wrath."
"Someone more charming than Pippin? That shouldn't be hard to find!" snickered Meriadoc. Whereupon Peregrin promptly elbowed him, and they fell to good-natured bickering. Smiling, I began unpacking my saddlebags, took the Dol Amroth book out and laid it upon the table. Frodo started to reach for it with a curious look, but halted when I looked over at him.
"By all means, Mr. Baggins, read it if you like."
"I should not like to borrow it if you are reading it."
"I am, but I can come back to it later. It is a book of children's stories written in Elvish." His look of interest deepened.
"Indeed? I have not seen such a thing before, even here."
"Then by all means, take it and enjoy it."
"How shall I get it back to you, if you are moving?"
"Give it to the King, the Prince of Dol Amroth, or the Steward--they would all see that I got it back. And even if you never did return it, Mr. Baggins, I would count it a small enough payment for what you did in the Dark Lands." Which was true, as much as I loved Faramir's gift to me. Frodo bowed his head, blushing a bit, as he took the book, but I caught an approving look from Samwise as he came back inside, and ducked into the washroom to cleanse his hands of dirt. There was a faint call at the door about then, and when I opened it, I found Felith there with a very large and overburdened tray containing a teapot, many cups, and a huge quantity of dainty cakes in tidy piles.
"Thank you, my lady!" she gasped, moving into the room. I took the tray from her over her protests, and carried it over to the table, counting cups bemusedly as I went.
"It looks as if you made a mistake, Felith. There is tea for nine people here."
"Yes, my lady. But it is no mistake. There is tea for you, and the four hobbits. They are mighty eaters, the little folk. If you order enough for one person for each of them, they are not satisfied. So it is best and easiest to order for two. You have been much away, or you would undoubtedly know this." I stared at her in disbelief for a moment as she began to set things out, then looked around at the eager halflings converging on the table. Frodo had hurriedly moved the books out of the way so she could spread the bounty out, and Meriadoc and Peregrin were already reaching for cakes. Samwise made it back from the washroom very quickly.
"Didn't you all tell me you had tea some time ago?" I asked.
"Indeed, Lady Hethlin," Peregrin replied, heroically refraining from eating till he'd answered me. "But no supper. This will serve nicely for supper, and then we can eat at the feast tonight. We are all very much obliged to you, I'm sure." I just shook my head, pulled up chairs, and piled pillows from the bed to raise the hobbits to a level where they could eat comfortably. The two chairs were each large enough that two hobbits could sit in them, and they did so, Meriadoc and Pippin in one and Samwise and Frodo in the other. Felith looked at me standing beside the table with concern.
"Shall I have someone fetch another chair, lady?"
"Nay, Felith," I told her with a smile. "I've been sitting a horse for days now. Standing suits me well, or if I do need to sit, the floor will do just fine." Giving me a look that said clearly enough she thought I'd taken an injury that had addled my brain, she asked if there was aught else needed, and when I said no, withdrew to see about arranging my bath, shaking her head and muttering. Meriadoc chuckled.
"I believe she thinks you are mad." I nodded.
"Felith is accustomed to serving proper young ladies, which I am not."
"She has not been in your service long, then?" inquired Frodo curiously.
"Goodness, no! She is not in my service at all--I think she floats about up here and takes care of the ladies who are guests. I grew up on a small farm, Mr. Baggins, and thought I was naught but a farm girl. It wasn't till after the War that the King told me we were kindred from afar. I'm his third cousin, I think, on my mother's side. A distant connection, but he chooses to recognize it."
"Third cousins are close connections in the Shire, lady!" exclaimed Peregrin. "Frodo and Merry and I are all cousins. Only Sam here is not related to us--and I think he's grateful for that!" Samwise's ruddy cheeks turned ruddier, and he ducked his head, muttering that Master Peregrin should not carry on so. I indicated that Frodo should pour if he wished, and he did with great care for the fine crockery, handing the first cup up to me.
"Tell me about your Shire, gentlemen," I suggested. "My father and mother were both from the North, and moved South before I was born. I am curious about the lands of my forefathers."
Well! Talk about opening the floodgates! Over the next pleasantly spent hour, we sipped and supped and talked about the Four Farthings, pipeweed, hobbit genealogy, smials and other topics dear to my small guests' hearts. Meriadoc and Peregrin were the most voluble, though even Frodo made his contributions. Samwise did not speak except to offer expert commentary upon farming and gardens, when we worked around to those subjects. I ended up sitting on the floor beside Merry and Pippin's chair (for Pippin insisted that I address him so), and looking up at them, which amused the hobbits greatly. We had absolutely demolished the tea, and were enjoying ourselves immensely, when Felith returned, all a-flutter.
"Little masters! The King is looking for you, and asks that you attend him immediately!"
Pippin leaped out of his chair. "Aha! The mystery will be solved at last!" Meriadoc gave me a meaningful stare as he got up, but I merely shrugged and grinned. Frodo and Samwise rose quietly, Frodo taking the book he'd come in with, and the Dol Amroth book after an inquiring look at me.
"Thank you for the lovely tea, Lady Hethlin, and the loan of the book," he murmured, and the others chimed in with their thanks as well. Whereupon Felith ushered them forth from the room in a manner reminiscent of a goodwife shooing geese, while promising that my bath was on its way. My chambers seemed oppressively quiet and suddenly forlorn when they all had left.
Smiling reminiscently, I went to the balcony doors, and opened them, stepping out upon it to view the vista of the City and the Pelennor that it afforded me. The plants that Samwise had so lovingly tended had grown greatly in the time I had been gone, some of them doubling their size, it seemed, and most were in bloom. There was a sweet fragrance about me as I looked and then found what I sought, a silver shimmer upon the Road, dimmed by distance.
With the ease of much recent practice, I anchored, then sent a welcoming thought flying towards that light. A surge of pleased surprise answered me, then a wordless promise of eventual reunion that set my blood to tingling. Somewhat reluctantly, I broke the contact after a last sending of warm affection, and went back inside. Servants were bringing the ewers of water for my bath, and I was suddenly aware of how very weary I was.
So while the King and his nobles, the wizard Mithrandir and his hobbit friends all stood in the twilight at the Gates of Gondor to greet she who was to be his bride, I washed myself and my hair, had a long, hot soak, and went to sleep between smooth, lavender-scented sheets, sinking with relief into a mattress that still seemed soft as a cloud.
The next morning, I was roused from slumber by a sudden flood of people into my room. Eyes snapping open, I sat up quickly, clutching the sheet up high about my neck. Felith was there, fluttering again, and to my surprise the Princess Lothiriel, who gave me a cheerful smile and a friendly wave. There were also three women who were ladies' maids from the looks of them, burdened with armloads of clothing and small caskets.
This expeditionary force was led by a formidable old woman clad in a dark blue gown of surpassing richness, her iron-grey hair screwed back in the tightest bun I'd ever seen.
"I am Lady Tirathiel," she informed me, her eyes flicking over me coolly, "the Prince's chatelaine. After the welcoming dinner last night, at which I note you were not present, arrangements were finalized for the ceremony today. It was decided that the King would be attended by his Elven kindred and several highly-placed nobles of both Gondor and Arnor, and that the Queen-to-be would be attended not only by her elven handmaidens but by several gently-born maidens of Gondor. Thus will the unity between North and South be demonstrated."
"The Queen-to-be," she continued, directing her women with concise gestures to lay the garments over the chairs and place the caskets on the table, "specifically asked that you be included in her party. Since I have been informed that you are without any maternal guidance, and have been so for some time, I have come to make sure that you will present yourself properly, and not disgrace your house or Dol Amroth. Where are your gowns?"
Still half asleep, and rather taken aback, I answered her cautiously. "My clothes are in the wardrobe there." Lady Tirathiel moved swiftly to the wardrobe with the vigor and grace of a much younger woman, threw the door open, and flicked through my clothing with an imperious hand while Felith hovered nearby, looking as if she feared a reprimand. A few moments sufficed for her to complete her inspection. She turned to me with a frown.
"I asked where your gowns are, girl! I see naught here but breeches!"
"That is because I have naught but breeches, my lady," I responded, beginning to be angry at her high-handedness, but determined to be polite to the Prince's kinswoman. "I discussed this very same matter with Prince Imrahil as we returned home, and he told me which of my outfits he would deem acceptable. So while I appreciate your concern on my behalf, your aid is really not necessary. The matter has been settled already."
Princess Lothiriel sucked in her breath, and looked at her great-aunt, eyes wide. The three ladies' maids gasped in simultaneous horror. Felith had the look of one who was wishing to be in another part of the Citadel, or another city altogether. Their responses told me that Lady Tirathiel was very seldom defied, which was confirmed by her next words.
"It matters naught to me what Imrahil thought! Though he contrives to turn himself out tolerably well, he knows nothing of ladies' matters! And I tell you now, young woman, that no matter what the Prince said, you will NOT lope along in the Queen-to-be's train in breeches making a spectacle of yourself! If you have no gown, we will use of one these --if any of them fit-- or borrow or procure one somehow. You are a very large young woman, however, which does make matters more difficult. And we'll see that you're properly bathed while we're about it!"
"I had a bath just last night!" I protested hotly. Lady Tirathiel gave me a scornful look.
"Well, it must not have been much of one--your face is all over dirt! Imrahil did not tell me you were a complete hoyden!"
"That is not dirt," I gritted, offended. "That is a bruise, got in battle!" The ladies' maids gasped, but Lady Tirathiel was unimpressed.
"Well, whatever it is and however you got it, it will have to be covered! I do not generally approve of face paint for noble ladies, but there are times when it is warranted, and this is one of those times. You may use some of Lothiriel's--I know she has it, though she tries to hide it from me." The Princess looked sheepish, and Lady Tirathiel sighed wearily.
"I wish someone had warned me of the magnitude of this task! We only have till a half hour before noon! Look at you--your face and hands are all rough and windburned, and your hair--your hair is nonexistent! And the less said about those eyebrows, the better--veritable hedges, they are!" She advanced upon the bed, and laid a hand upon the top of the sheet, which I gripped even more tightly, shrinking away from her. "Come child, we have no time to waste! Up with you, so that we may be about our business!"
Anger and fear were swirling in a confused, chaotic knot within me, but I struggled to remain calm and civil. "My lady, if you would give me but a moment--I am unaccustomed to having so many people about me at such a time. If you would all leave for but a few minutes, then come back, I am sure I would be more comfortable." I needed time to get a robe on, amongst other things. Lady Tirathiel frowned.
"What is this, country modesty? We have no time for your vaporish fancies, girl! Up with you now, and no more delaying!" And with a strength much greater than I had expected, she ripped the sheet from my grasp.
I suppose that the gently-bred young ladies of her acquaintance must always have worn night-shifts to bed. My usual habit with the Rangers and on the journey had been to wear breeches and a shirt, and my habit when with Elrohir had been to sleep bare. I actually had night-shifts here, courtesy of the King, but the night before had been very warm, and I'd slept bare, enjoying the feel of the fine sheets on my skin, and hoping that my elven lover might show up. Consequently, when she tore the sheet away, I was revealed in all my damaged......glory.
One of the ladies in waiting actually shrieked, and fled for the door. The second one fell onto one of the dress-draped chairs, almost swooning, while the third held her ground. Princess Lothiriel gasped, and her eyes widened even larger than previously. Felith gasped as well, and sagged against the wall. Lady Tirathiel blanched, but otherwise held her composure, though I could read in her eyes that she realized the magnitude of her mistake. I snatched the sheet back up.
"Get out of my room," I said very flatly, trembling violently of a sudden and not sure whether I was going to burst into tears or vomit, but trying very hard to keep from doing either. "All of you, get out right now, and do not return. I do not care if you are the Prince's kinswoman, lady or that of the Valar themselves--you have no right to do what you just did! And since you are so concerned about the honor of Dol Amroth, Lady Tirathiel, let me assure you that I will not attend the wedding at all, thereby saving you the tiresome effort of rendering me respectable. Now get out! That includes you too, Felith--I do not wish you to remain either."
Needing no further encouragement, the most stalwart lady's maid immediately hauled her swooning companion to her feet, and headed for the door, followed by Felith, who looked back over her shoulder at me almost imploringly. Lothiriel, scarlet with embarrassment, made a sort of conciliatory gesture with her hand. I ignored it, and she took her great-aunt's arm gently, tugging her towards the door. Lady Tirathiel paused, and looked as if she were about to say something, but I cut her short with the sort of snarl I usually reserved for combat situations.
"Get you GONE, I say, my lady! And YOU may explain to the Queen-to-be why it is she will not have the pleasure of my company!" The two of them withdrew, closing the door behind them, and when I was sure they were gone, I put the robe at the foot of the bed on, rose, and locked the door behind them. Then I took care of my morning necessities, washed my face with shaking hands, and crawled back under the covers, robe and all, regardless of the growing warmth of the day, to tremble silently for a long time.
Eventually, when I had begun to recover a bit from the violation, and as I had half expected, I heard Elrohir's mental voice on the other side of the door. *Snowsteel? What has happened? I could feel that you were upset about something. Will you let me in?*
*Are you alone?* I asked.
*Yes.* I got up, went to the door, unlocked it, and opened it for him. He had a white silk undertunic and dark grey breeches and boots on, and his hair fell unbraided about his shoulders. The fineness of the garb indicated that he must have been in the process of dressing himself for the wedding. I locked the door behind him, and he raised an eyebrow.
"You should finish getting ready," I told him.
"You should start getting ready," he responded.
"I am not going," I replied.
"Whyever not?" he asked in genuine puzzlement. "Arwen will be disappointed."
"Ah, but Gondor will not be embarrassed." He frowned, took a step forward, and folded me gently into his arms. We stood that way for quite a long time, the occasional shiver passing through me.
"Perhaps you should tell me what happened," he suggested at last. I touched his mind, and showed him instead, and as I did so, I could feel his concern turn to anger. His arms tightened around me.
"What an old harridan!" he said when the tale was told in full. "'Tis no wonder they call her the Dragon Lady of Dol Amroth! When they're not calling her the Iron Lady, that is! I begin to wonder if this idea of Aragorn's is a good idea at all." I nodded as I rested against his shoulder.
"She it was who was supposed to teach me court manners. I am sure that she thinks that is impossible now, and the Prince's Armsmaster is angry with me because the Prince got wounded while he was under my care. My future does not look bright in the Swan Lord's city." Elrohir dropped a kiss on my head.
"Then do not go to Dol Amroth, Snowsteel--return North with us instead." I tucked my head beneath his chin, and stroked his slender back, warm beneath the fine silk of his tunic.
"And do what, Elrohir? Sleep with you beneath your father's roof, in defiance of his wishes?"
"Father will not be there forever. He intends to take the ship West very soon. Within the next five years, I deem."
"Then perhaps when he does, I'll come North to see you. I will have finished my training by then. But I swore an oath and I can't break it. I won't break it."
"You do not have to break it," he murmured soothingly. "I can speak to Aragorn and prevail upon him to release you." I stiffened in his arms for a moment.
"Don't, Elrohir. I hate it when you try to manage my life for me."
"I do suppose that is what that would be, now that you mention it," he admitted regretfully. "I am sorry, Snowsteel--old habits die hard. And I have some very old habits." I released him and stepped back with a sad smile.
"I am very flattered that you would even want to change them on my behalf." Elrohir smiled slightly in return, wandered over to a chair, picked up a brown gown, and in a rather ludicrous display, held it up against himself.
"Not my color, I think." I had to chuckle despite the mood I was in, and his smile broadened. "Are you sure you will not come to the wedding, Snowsteel?" he coaxed, returning the dress to the chair. "I will miss you, and so will Arwen and Aragorn."
I shook my head. "I have said that I will not, and that is that. I shall stay here, and catch up on my reading. You go ahead and finish getting ready, and come back by when you are done so that I may see how beautiful you are." He started to say something--perhaps a protest or another plea--then changed his mind, and sketched me a most magnificent bow.
"As my lady commands." I moved to the door, and let him out. Then I went ahead and got dressed in my Ranger breeches and boots, and one of my more disgraceful shirts. Felith was probably not much inclined to wait upon me any further this day, I thought, and I had had no breakfast. So after Elrohir returned for final inspection, I intended to go to the servant's mess and get some food, or out into the city, perhaps to the Red Dog. I should have liked very much to have seen the wedding, but it would hardly be the first important event of the age I had missed, and Lady Tirathiel's scorn made it difficult for me to contemplate being included in the wedding party without feeling like some sort of freak.
I opened the doors of the balcony, to let in more air, and draped myself over a chair to read, trying to ignore the ever-increasing growls of my stomach. I had just succeeded in doing so when a quiet knock came at the door, and a quiet voice called out to me.
"Hethlin? Are you there?" It was my liege lord, so I had no choice but to let him in. Unlike Elrohir, he was already fully dressed, in the most extraordinary silk brocade--deep blue diapered with silver thread swans. His jeweled coronet was on his head, a very ornately jeweled dress sword hung at his side, and you could have seen yourself in the mirror finish of his boots. He looked at my state of dress, and at the book still in my hand, and sighed.
"Hethlin, would it help if I apologized on behalf of my house?"
"Did you send her to me, my lord? Did you ask her to make me presentable?"
"No! We were discussing the attendants last night, and Lothiriel had the idea that she would come and help you dress. She meant it as a friendly gesture, Hethlin, please believe that. Then her great-aunt decided that she had better oversee things. I did not know that she was going to oversee things to quite that extent. May I sit down?" It was then I realized that I was standing in his path, blocking him from entering further in some sort of instinctive defensiveness. I stepped aside.
"Of course, my lord. Please, make yourself comfortable." He took me at my word, actually crossing to the bed and pulling on the bell pull before moving the dresses that draped one of the chairs to the other chair, and seating himself in the empty one. A few moments later, with suspicious speed, Felith stuck her head warily in the door.
"My lady?" I gestured to the Prince, who looked over at her with a smile.
"I rang, Felith. Could we have some tea?" He looked back at me. "Have you breakfasted yet?" When I responded in the negative, he added, "And some breakfast for Lady Hethlin?" She bobbed a curtsey.
"Indeed, my lord prince. I will return as soon as I may." And she withdrew. The Prince leaned back in his chair.
"Tirathiel is my late wife's aunt, and she has selflessly overseen the domestic side of things at Dol Amroth since Nimrien's death. She has been a mother figure for Lothiriel since she was a small girl. Unfortunately, as my chatelaine, she also has in her care any young ladies who come to my court. I say unfortunately because she has had to put up with a perpetual procession of decidedly silly females, most of whom are interested in pursuing one of my sons, or myself. This has made her somewhat brusque and impatient. She did not realize that you were something altogether different." I gave him a very flat look.
"Actually, my lord, she did realize I was something different. She thought I was a motherless hoyden incapable of keeping myself clean, or dressing myself." The Prince winced. "And I am sure that you will next tell me that I should rise above this and present myself as part of the wedding party. What is right is the most difficult, and so forth and so on. You may even be correct. But I have been treated as if I were some sort of unwashed barbarian this morning, stripped before strangers who screamed and swooned at the sight of my unclothed body, and am feeling somewhat less than sociable as a result. I understood that Lady Tirathiel would be overseeing my courtly education, but surely you told her I would need more than three hours to complete the transformation to a proper lady."
The Prince frowned slightly at that, steepling his fingers together. "I have not discussed you with her in any depth at all yet, Hethlin. But yes, now that you mention it, I do think you should eat your breakfast, get into some of those nice clothes the two of us discussed, and attend the lady who is going to become your queen today! You had said once that you were willing to do what you could to make her feel at home. She has asked you to attend her-were your words empty ones?" I glared at him in affronted disbelief.
"Pardon me, my lord, but I am the injured party here!"
"That is very true, but by withdrawing from the wedding, you are punishing the wrong person!" he snapped, then in a calmer voice, added, "I do not mean to make light of what you suffered in any way. And I hereby tender you my formal apology for what happened to you this morning at the hands of my retainers. I will make amends to you, if you will tell me what will make you feel better about this whole business." I considered this for a moment.
"Lady Tirathiel knows she made a bad mistake, sir--I could see it in her eyes." Prince Imrahil nodded.
"She did go to Lady Arwen, as you had commanded, and explained to her what she had done, and why you would not be part of the wedding party. She is a woman of honor." I plopped down into the chair opposite him, heedless of the pile of dresses upon it, stifling a tiny inner chuckle at his wince as I did so.
"I did not think she was not. But sir, right now I am frightened that I will not do well in Dol Amroth. Your Armsmaster is angry with me because I would not tell him what had happened to you--"
"--I know that, and I have taken care of it, Hethlin," the Prince interjected. "You did just as you ought to, as I had commanded, and I made that very plain to Andrahar."
Personally, I wasn't sure that a reprimand from the Prince, if that was what had happened, would make the Armsmaster feel any better about me, but I kept that to myself. "And I know that Lady Tirathiel must think I am some sort of absolute heathen. If you could just explain a little about me to her, I think it would help. Tell her to be patient--I am willing to learn what she has to teach. But no matter what she does, or how hard I try, I will never be dainty and graceful and pretty. I'm sort of a river rock--you run a lot of water over it and it will polish up nicely. But it's not a gem." The Prince cocked an eyebrow at that.
"An interesting comparison you make there, Hethlin. I think I would dispute it with you, though. You are anything but pebble-like. Aside from being rock-stubborn at times, of course....." I smiled a little at him, and he gave me a very serious look. "Will you not come, Hethlin? For however bad a morning you have had, Arwen would still be glad of your company." Regretfully, I shook my head.
"I am sorry, sir, but I would just feel too......awkward. And freakish. Out of place."
"No one you know, the people who truly matter, would think that of you."
"Aye sir, I realize that. It is not so much what they think, but how I feel." Imrahil's brow furrowed, and his voice was tart when he answered.
"What is more important than how you feel here, Hethlin is how Arwen feels. This is the most important day of her life to date, and we should be doing everything we can to see that it is a good one. For her sake, and that of the King we both serve. I understand that you must have been both shocked and embarrassed. I sympathize with your reluctance, and I will not compel you or command you to attend. But I will think the less of you, if you do not." He got to his feet, and started for the door.
"'Think the less of me', will you?" I growled, jumping to my feet as well, thoroughly annoyed. "Would you treat Lothiriel so, my lord prince, or any other lady that had suffered as I had?" He stopped, and turned back to me.
"But you are not Lothiriel, or any other lady. You are Hethlin Blackbow of Anorien." His lips twisted in a sardonic smile. "Oh, I am sorry. Is this is the part where I am supposed to pat you on the head and say 'There, there, dear, it doesn't matter.'?" His eyes, grey and deep as the Sea, bored into mine of a sudden. "I am not going to do that, Hethlin. Because it does matter. Because you are not Lothiriel, or Eowyn. And because I am very definitely NOT Faramir!" With that, he departed, closing the door behind him with a bit more force than was perhaps strictly necessary.
I stood seething for a few moments after he left, then moved to the wardrobe and pulled out the other nice clothes I had told the Prince about at Amon Din. They were blue, but not royal Dol Amroth blue. Instead they were a duller, greyed blue that looked well with my eyes. The tunic was summer weight, and woven in a wavelike, abstract pattern, the breeches were slightly darker in color and plain weave. There was a shirt to go underneath, and it and the tunic were embroidered with threads of blue and grey and silver. All in all, a handsome outfit--but then, Elrohir had always had good taste. I had laid them over a chair, and was pondering where my grey elven boots might be when Felith returned with tea and breakfast.
"Where is the Prince, my lady?" she inquired as she began to set things out.
"He was called away, Felith," I prevaricated. "I imagine he will be very busy this morning."
"Oh, that is unfortunate." Something in her tone brought a grin to my face.
"I think you rather like the Prince, Felith." She pursed her lips up, but her face pinkened slightly.
"There is no call for you to be talking that way, my lady, when I have a perfectly good husband of my own. Though I must admit, Prince Imrahil is a very comely man. And has such lovely manners! So many as come to stay here think of the staff as naught but pieces of furniture." I wasn't sure if that was directed at me, but it did make me feel bad.
"I apologize for what I said earlier, Felith." She gave me a startled look.
"Oh, my lady, did you think I meant you? No indeed! I understood that you were upset. I owe you an apology for carrying on as I did! Your manners are well enough--you are very easy to care for. No trouble at all." I sighed in relief.
"That's good to know, but I'm going to be a little trouble now. Could you go to the Lady Arwen, and tell her I would be proud to be one of her attendants, if she will still have me? And then, if you would, please see to another matter. I had some Elven clothing and boots given to me in Lorien--would you try to find out what became of them? There is a grey pair of boots which would look well with this, but if we cannot find them, I'll wear a pair of my own. Mine will have to be polished, however." Felith nodded.
"I will do that, my lady. You just eat your breakfast, and I will help you dress when I return. I am glad that you decided to go to the wedding."
"Well, I've been thinking about it. If I don't go to these things, how else will I collect stories to bore the young with when I'm an old woman?" Felith laughed.
"I very much doubt you will be a boring old woman, my lady! You'll probably be every bit as formidable as Lady Tirathiel."
"Valar forfend!" Felith chuckled, and with a final admonition to me to eat up, set off in search of my boots.
During Felith's absence, I addressed myself to my breakfast, which was so generous as to be hobbit-sized, and in truth, felt much better once I had done so. Pondering briefly if at least part of my problem had been that Lady Tirathiel had accosted me while my stomach was empty, I washed up thoroughly, and had got as far as I could with the dressing process when she returned, bearing with her my boots, my elven clothing, and Elrohir, who had completed his own garbing, and bore an armload of sundry items with him.
He set his burden down, and straightened up, and I whistled appreciatively, which cause him to smile rakishly in response. His tunic came to mid-thigh, but the sleeves nearly dragged the ground, and were bordered in an ornate pattern of flowers in silver thread, echoing the pattern in the tunic itself. The hem and collar were also ornately embroidered. The pattern put me in mind of the work on Arwen's wedding dress, and I wondered if she had made it with her own hands. A circlet of wrought silver leaves and flowers sat upon his unbound hair, and a matching belt spanned his narrow waist. The flower motif, which would have seemed overly feminine upon a Man, suited him very well.
"You look like a star that has fallen to earth," I told him. "A very flowery star." He grinned, pleased.
"Given that my grandfather is a star, I suppose that that is fitting." Felith's eyes widened, and I once again had one of those weird, unreal moments when I wondered exactly how I had come to be involved with such a being. Sensing my thought, he gave me a concerned look.
"Are you well, Snowsteel?" I shook myself.
"Aye. Very well, in fact. What have you here?"
"Some things I borrowed in case you needed them. I am very glad you decided to join us this day after all."
"As am I," I said, surprised at the sincerity I felt. Elrohir handed me my boots, and I pulled them on. He then surveyed me critically.
"Those look well," he commented, "but your old swordbelt will not serve. And you need something for your head. Here, I borrowed this from Glorfindel. See if your sword will fit." "This" was an ornate belt of interwoven silver chains of divers sorts, which clasped at the waist with a flower clasp. A beautiful scabbard engraved with more flowers depended from it. When I tried my blade in it, I found that it fitted perfectly, and when I clasped it around my waist, I found that it fit me as well as the sword. But then, Lord Glorfindel was the biggest Elf I had ever seen.... Elrohir was very pleased with himself, but I had some concerns.
"Are you sure that Lord Glorfindel does not need this?" My elf-lord shook his head.
"Valar, no! He's dressing in gold today. If I am a star, then he is going to look like a great big sun that just fell into the Court of the Fountain. 'Ware how you gaze upon him, Snowsteel--it would not do for you to be blinded by mistake!" I laughed, as did Felith, though she was rather quiet about it. Elrohir threw her one of his charming smiles, then picked up a floaty, silky, silvery cloak from the pile. Its purpose was purely decorative--it was too light to be useful and that was a good thing as warm as the day promised to be. It fastened with a fanciful curlicue clasp about my neck. Finally, he produced something I recognized--the slender star circlet I'd worn in Lorien. Indicating that Felith should comb my hair out, he waited till she was finished, then set it carefully upon my head. Stepping back to survey his handiwork, he smiled with satisfaction.
"What do you think, lady?" he asked Felith politely. "Will she serve?" A bit startled at having her opinion solicited, Felith stammered slightly as she answered.
"Indeed, my lord, she looks very nice! You have a good eye for such things." He acknowledged the compliment with a nod, then stepped forward and gave me a swift kiss.
"I have to return to Arwen," he explained, "For I promised I would not be away long. All you have to do is meet me in the main hall a half hour before noon. The way it was explained last night is that we will process to the Court of the Fountain in pairs, Elven man paired with woman of Gondor and vice versa." He grinned. "Coincidentally convenient, wouldn't you say? Guess who my woman of Gondor is going to be?" I chuckled, very pleased that I would be escorted by him rather than a stranger. Though it might have been nice to be paired with Faramir...... "When we enter the Court, we will then part company, and split into the bride's and groom's parties, leaving a center aisle clear. Arwen and Aragorn will process up that to the Tree, and there they will be wed. After the ceremony, we will repeat the procedure in reverse. Simple enough?"
"Aye. I think I can manage that." Another swift kiss, and he was gone out the door with a last, cheerful wave over his shoulder. Felith stared after him in sudden, astonished realization.
"My lady, he's......he's your young man, isn't he?" I unclasped the cloak, and draped it over the dress-covered chair, for about an hour remained before the ceremony, and I did not want it crushed and wrinkled. Seating myself in the empty chair, I picked up the book I'd been reading before, and smiled at her.
"No Felith, he's not my young man. He's my old elf."
I stepped into the room to find four surprised faces looking at me. Frodo Baggins was seated in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, a book in his hands. Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took were seated side-by-side upon the high bed, their feet dangling. And Samwise Gamgee stood in the door of the balcony, clutching a small potted plant in his hands, having nearly dropped it in his startlement.
"Hullo, Merry," I said, he being the hobbit I knew best from our convalescence in the Houses of Healing.
"Lady Hethlin!" he replied. "We thought this was a guest room. We did not know that these were your chambers."
"They may not be," I said, going to the wardrobe and throwing the doors open. My clothes still hung within. "Hmmmmm. I suppose they still are." Seeing their puzzled looks, I grinned. "There is some question--I am supposed to be moving to the Prince of Dol Amroth's townhouse soon. And a week's stay is not a very strong claim."
"We did not mean to intrude, lady," said Frodo, rising to his feet. "Come Sam, finish up there so that we might leave the lady in peace." Samwise, who had turned beet red, stammered an assent, and took his small green charge back onto the terrace. I draped my saddlebags over the foot of the bed.
"Do not hasten off upon my account, gentleman. Glad I am to have the opportunity to meet Master Baggins and Master Gamgee again in more peaceful circumstances. And to meet Master Took for the first time, for though I have seen him in the city, we've not yet been introduced. I am curious as to what all of you are doing here, however."
"Sam is tending the plants," said Peregrin Took, his voice slightly higher than those of the other hobbits. "And we are keeping him company. Besides, it is quiet up here. One gets weary of being stared at by Big People--even if they mean well," he hastily added. I chuckled, and began unbuckling my sword and bow and racking them..
"No offense taken, Master Took. I imagine it is a bit of a trial. You do not need to go if you wish to stay a while longer in peace and quiet--and if you do not mind the company of someone who has been on the road and needs a bath. I had thought to ring for some tea, and you are certainly welcome to join me." All of the hobbits, even Master Baggins, brightened at the mention of food, and the Valar knew Frodo still looked like he could use some.
"That sounds very nice, Lady Hethlin," Meriadoc said, after a quick glance at Frodo for confirmation.
"I should say so!" exclaimed Peregrin enthusiastically. "There's this fellow in the kitchen who just doesn't understand the difference between tea and supper and dinner. 'But you have had your tea, little masters,' he tells us, 'and now must wait upon dinner, for though supplies are more plentiful now, who can say when trouble will come again? And it is difficult enough putting three meals and tea upon the boards for such finicky lords, without others wanting six. You have no idea of the trouble involved.'" I laughed.
"I think I know the fellow you speak of. He gave me and a couple of my fellow Rangers a lecture upon the scarcity of chickens in war-time once, after we'd ridden here with Lord Faramir."
Frodo looked enlightened all of a sudden. "You were with the Rangers, then? Is that why you said you'd met us before?"
"Aye. I was there the day Faramir found you in Ithilien, and the Haradrim came calling." I shrugged out of my hauberk, and hung it on the rack.
"I'm sorry, but I don't remember you, and I think I would," Frodo commented, gesturing towards my hair.
"My hair was black then. This happened after the Pelennor," I explained. "And I only spoke to you once, when I was helping to serve dinner. The rest of the time I kept to myself in a corner and fletched arrows." Master Baggins gave me a very intent stare for a moment, then nodded.
"I remember now. Sam and I thought you a lad."
"Which was what you were supposed to think." I went to the bell pull by the bed, and pulled it, curious to see who or what would appear, then removed my gambeson with a grimace, and carried it off to the bathing room. Ducking back out momentarily to grab a fresh shirt and tunic from the wardrobe, I excused myself briefly from my guests.
"I will be right back. If someone shows up, go ahead and order the tea." Then I closed the door, did a quick cat bath at the washstand, and changed into the fresh clothes. My return to the bedroom coincided with Felith's arrival.
"My lady!" she exclaimed. "No one informed me that you were here!" She spied my bandaged hand and gasped. "You are injured! What happened to you?" The hobbits gave me curious looks.
"I ran into some orcs on the way home. It's not serious, and it is healing very well." Thanks to Lord Elrond's ministrations, I added to myself silently. Felith was appalled.
"You poor thing! Why those men keep letting you do such things is beyond me! Whatever is the King thinking of?" I frowned a little.
"The King is thinking that I am a soldier, Felith, and a good one. I am going to be wanting a hot bath later on, but my friends and I would like some tea now, if that is possible."
"I do not know if it will be possible or not," she replied, troubled. 'The kitchen is in an uproar. The King showed up at noon, and ordered a great feast for this evening. No one knows why. In any event, they are all a-bustle down there, but I will see what may be done." And she curtseyed, and left us. Meriadoc gave me a sharp-eyed look.
"You wouldn't happen to know why the King is having a feast tonight, would you, Lady Hethlin?" I smiled knowingly at him.
"Whatever would give you that idea, Master Brandybuck?"
"Nothing at all--save that you have just returned from a long journey, about which you have said nothing, and now suddenly everyone is 'a-bustle'. The timing is a bit suspicious."
"Unfortunately, I may not speak of my journey, or its purpose--though I suspect you will know soon enough. But I do know what is going on, and when you do learn, you will be very pleased by it, if I don't miss my guess." Suddenly, I found myself the object of a battery of bright-eyed hobbit stares.
"Well! If we are to learn soon enough anyway, I don't see why you can't go ahead and tell us," wheedled Peregrin most beguilingly, but I held firm.
"It is a surprise, and it is the King's surprise. It would take someone far more charming than you, Master Took, to wrest the secret from me in the face of Aragorn's wrath."
"Someone more charming than Pippin? That shouldn't be hard to find!" snickered Meriadoc. Whereupon Peregrin promptly elbowed him, and they fell to good-natured bickering. Smiling, I began unpacking my saddlebags, took the Dol Amroth book out and laid it upon the table. Frodo started to reach for it with a curious look, but halted when I looked over at him.
"By all means, Mr. Baggins, read it if you like."
"I should not like to borrow it if you are reading it."
"I am, but I can come back to it later. It is a book of children's stories written in Elvish." His look of interest deepened.
"Indeed? I have not seen such a thing before, even here."
"Then by all means, take it and enjoy it."
"How shall I get it back to you, if you are moving?"
"Give it to the King, the Prince of Dol Amroth, or the Steward--they would all see that I got it back. And even if you never did return it, Mr. Baggins, I would count it a small enough payment for what you did in the Dark Lands." Which was true, as much as I loved Faramir's gift to me. Frodo bowed his head, blushing a bit, as he took the book, but I caught an approving look from Samwise as he came back inside, and ducked into the washroom to cleanse his hands of dirt. There was a faint call at the door about then, and when I opened it, I found Felith there with a very large and overburdened tray containing a teapot, many cups, and a huge quantity of dainty cakes in tidy piles.
"Thank you, my lady!" she gasped, moving into the room. I took the tray from her over her protests, and carried it over to the table, counting cups bemusedly as I went.
"It looks as if you made a mistake, Felith. There is tea for nine people here."
"Yes, my lady. But it is no mistake. There is tea for you, and the four hobbits. They are mighty eaters, the little folk. If you order enough for one person for each of them, they are not satisfied. So it is best and easiest to order for two. You have been much away, or you would undoubtedly know this." I stared at her in disbelief for a moment as she began to set things out, then looked around at the eager halflings converging on the table. Frodo had hurriedly moved the books out of the way so she could spread the bounty out, and Meriadoc and Peregrin were already reaching for cakes. Samwise made it back from the washroom very quickly.
"Didn't you all tell me you had tea some time ago?" I asked.
"Indeed, Lady Hethlin," Peregrin replied, heroically refraining from eating till he'd answered me. "But no supper. This will serve nicely for supper, and then we can eat at the feast tonight. We are all very much obliged to you, I'm sure." I just shook my head, pulled up chairs, and piled pillows from the bed to raise the hobbits to a level where they could eat comfortably. The two chairs were each large enough that two hobbits could sit in them, and they did so, Meriadoc and Pippin in one and Samwise and Frodo in the other. Felith looked at me standing beside the table with concern.
"Shall I have someone fetch another chair, lady?"
"Nay, Felith," I told her with a smile. "I've been sitting a horse for days now. Standing suits me well, or if I do need to sit, the floor will do just fine." Giving me a look that said clearly enough she thought I'd taken an injury that had addled my brain, she asked if there was aught else needed, and when I said no, withdrew to see about arranging my bath, shaking her head and muttering. Meriadoc chuckled.
"I believe she thinks you are mad." I nodded.
"Felith is accustomed to serving proper young ladies, which I am not."
"She has not been in your service long, then?" inquired Frodo curiously.
"Goodness, no! She is not in my service at all--I think she floats about up here and takes care of the ladies who are guests. I grew up on a small farm, Mr. Baggins, and thought I was naught but a farm girl. It wasn't till after the War that the King told me we were kindred from afar. I'm his third cousin, I think, on my mother's side. A distant connection, but he chooses to recognize it."
"Third cousins are close connections in the Shire, lady!" exclaimed Peregrin. "Frodo and Merry and I are all cousins. Only Sam here is not related to us--and I think he's grateful for that!" Samwise's ruddy cheeks turned ruddier, and he ducked his head, muttering that Master Peregrin should not carry on so. I indicated that Frodo should pour if he wished, and he did with great care for the fine crockery, handing the first cup up to me.
"Tell me about your Shire, gentlemen," I suggested. "My father and mother were both from the North, and moved South before I was born. I am curious about the lands of my forefathers."
Well! Talk about opening the floodgates! Over the next pleasantly spent hour, we sipped and supped and talked about the Four Farthings, pipeweed, hobbit genealogy, smials and other topics dear to my small guests' hearts. Meriadoc and Peregrin were the most voluble, though even Frodo made his contributions. Samwise did not speak except to offer expert commentary upon farming and gardens, when we worked around to those subjects. I ended up sitting on the floor beside Merry and Pippin's chair (for Pippin insisted that I address him so), and looking up at them, which amused the hobbits greatly. We had absolutely demolished the tea, and were enjoying ourselves immensely, when Felith returned, all a-flutter.
"Little masters! The King is looking for you, and asks that you attend him immediately!"
Pippin leaped out of his chair. "Aha! The mystery will be solved at last!" Meriadoc gave me a meaningful stare as he got up, but I merely shrugged and grinned. Frodo and Samwise rose quietly, Frodo taking the book he'd come in with, and the Dol Amroth book after an inquiring look at me.
"Thank you for the lovely tea, Lady Hethlin, and the loan of the book," he murmured, and the others chimed in with their thanks as well. Whereupon Felith ushered them forth from the room in a manner reminiscent of a goodwife shooing geese, while promising that my bath was on its way. My chambers seemed oppressively quiet and suddenly forlorn when they all had left.
Smiling reminiscently, I went to the balcony doors, and opened them, stepping out upon it to view the vista of the City and the Pelennor that it afforded me. The plants that Samwise had so lovingly tended had grown greatly in the time I had been gone, some of them doubling their size, it seemed, and most were in bloom. There was a sweet fragrance about me as I looked and then found what I sought, a silver shimmer upon the Road, dimmed by distance.
With the ease of much recent practice, I anchored, then sent a welcoming thought flying towards that light. A surge of pleased surprise answered me, then a wordless promise of eventual reunion that set my blood to tingling. Somewhat reluctantly, I broke the contact after a last sending of warm affection, and went back inside. Servants were bringing the ewers of water for my bath, and I was suddenly aware of how very weary I was.
So while the King and his nobles, the wizard Mithrandir and his hobbit friends all stood in the twilight at the Gates of Gondor to greet she who was to be his bride, I washed myself and my hair, had a long, hot soak, and went to sleep between smooth, lavender-scented sheets, sinking with relief into a mattress that still seemed soft as a cloud.
The next morning, I was roused from slumber by a sudden flood of people into my room. Eyes snapping open, I sat up quickly, clutching the sheet up high about my neck. Felith was there, fluttering again, and to my surprise the Princess Lothiriel, who gave me a cheerful smile and a friendly wave. There were also three women who were ladies' maids from the looks of them, burdened with armloads of clothing and small caskets.
This expeditionary force was led by a formidable old woman clad in a dark blue gown of surpassing richness, her iron-grey hair screwed back in the tightest bun I'd ever seen.
"I am Lady Tirathiel," she informed me, her eyes flicking over me coolly, "the Prince's chatelaine. After the welcoming dinner last night, at which I note you were not present, arrangements were finalized for the ceremony today. It was decided that the King would be attended by his Elven kindred and several highly-placed nobles of both Gondor and Arnor, and that the Queen-to-be would be attended not only by her elven handmaidens but by several gently-born maidens of Gondor. Thus will the unity between North and South be demonstrated."
"The Queen-to-be," she continued, directing her women with concise gestures to lay the garments over the chairs and place the caskets on the table, "specifically asked that you be included in her party. Since I have been informed that you are without any maternal guidance, and have been so for some time, I have come to make sure that you will present yourself properly, and not disgrace your house or Dol Amroth. Where are your gowns?"
Still half asleep, and rather taken aback, I answered her cautiously. "My clothes are in the wardrobe there." Lady Tirathiel moved swiftly to the wardrobe with the vigor and grace of a much younger woman, threw the door open, and flicked through my clothing with an imperious hand while Felith hovered nearby, looking as if she feared a reprimand. A few moments sufficed for her to complete her inspection. She turned to me with a frown.
"I asked where your gowns are, girl! I see naught here but breeches!"
"That is because I have naught but breeches, my lady," I responded, beginning to be angry at her high-handedness, but determined to be polite to the Prince's kinswoman. "I discussed this very same matter with Prince Imrahil as we returned home, and he told me which of my outfits he would deem acceptable. So while I appreciate your concern on my behalf, your aid is really not necessary. The matter has been settled already."
Princess Lothiriel sucked in her breath, and looked at her great-aunt, eyes wide. The three ladies' maids gasped in simultaneous horror. Felith had the look of one who was wishing to be in another part of the Citadel, or another city altogether. Their responses told me that Lady Tirathiel was very seldom defied, which was confirmed by her next words.
"It matters naught to me what Imrahil thought! Though he contrives to turn himself out tolerably well, he knows nothing of ladies' matters! And I tell you now, young woman, that no matter what the Prince said, you will NOT lope along in the Queen-to-be's train in breeches making a spectacle of yourself! If you have no gown, we will use of one these --if any of them fit-- or borrow or procure one somehow. You are a very large young woman, however, which does make matters more difficult. And we'll see that you're properly bathed while we're about it!"
"I had a bath just last night!" I protested hotly. Lady Tirathiel gave me a scornful look.
"Well, it must not have been much of one--your face is all over dirt! Imrahil did not tell me you were a complete hoyden!"
"That is not dirt," I gritted, offended. "That is a bruise, got in battle!" The ladies' maids gasped, but Lady Tirathiel was unimpressed.
"Well, whatever it is and however you got it, it will have to be covered! I do not generally approve of face paint for noble ladies, but there are times when it is warranted, and this is one of those times. You may use some of Lothiriel's--I know she has it, though she tries to hide it from me." The Princess looked sheepish, and Lady Tirathiel sighed wearily.
"I wish someone had warned me of the magnitude of this task! We only have till a half hour before noon! Look at you--your face and hands are all rough and windburned, and your hair--your hair is nonexistent! And the less said about those eyebrows, the better--veritable hedges, they are!" She advanced upon the bed, and laid a hand upon the top of the sheet, which I gripped even more tightly, shrinking away from her. "Come child, we have no time to waste! Up with you, so that we may be about our business!"
Anger and fear were swirling in a confused, chaotic knot within me, but I struggled to remain calm and civil. "My lady, if you would give me but a moment--I am unaccustomed to having so many people about me at such a time. If you would all leave for but a few minutes, then come back, I am sure I would be more comfortable." I needed time to get a robe on, amongst other things. Lady Tirathiel frowned.
"What is this, country modesty? We have no time for your vaporish fancies, girl! Up with you now, and no more delaying!" And with a strength much greater than I had expected, she ripped the sheet from my grasp.
I suppose that the gently-bred young ladies of her acquaintance must always have worn night-shifts to bed. My usual habit with the Rangers and on the journey had been to wear breeches and a shirt, and my habit when with Elrohir had been to sleep bare. I actually had night-shifts here, courtesy of the King, but the night before had been very warm, and I'd slept bare, enjoying the feel of the fine sheets on my skin, and hoping that my elven lover might show up. Consequently, when she tore the sheet away, I was revealed in all my damaged......glory.
One of the ladies in waiting actually shrieked, and fled for the door. The second one fell onto one of the dress-draped chairs, almost swooning, while the third held her ground. Princess Lothiriel gasped, and her eyes widened even larger than previously. Felith gasped as well, and sagged against the wall. Lady Tirathiel blanched, but otherwise held her composure, though I could read in her eyes that she realized the magnitude of her mistake. I snatched the sheet back up.
"Get out of my room," I said very flatly, trembling violently of a sudden and not sure whether I was going to burst into tears or vomit, but trying very hard to keep from doing either. "All of you, get out right now, and do not return. I do not care if you are the Prince's kinswoman, lady or that of the Valar themselves--you have no right to do what you just did! And since you are so concerned about the honor of Dol Amroth, Lady Tirathiel, let me assure you that I will not attend the wedding at all, thereby saving you the tiresome effort of rendering me respectable. Now get out! That includes you too, Felith--I do not wish you to remain either."
Needing no further encouragement, the most stalwart lady's maid immediately hauled her swooning companion to her feet, and headed for the door, followed by Felith, who looked back over her shoulder at me almost imploringly. Lothiriel, scarlet with embarrassment, made a sort of conciliatory gesture with her hand. I ignored it, and she took her great-aunt's arm gently, tugging her towards the door. Lady Tirathiel paused, and looked as if she were about to say something, but I cut her short with the sort of snarl I usually reserved for combat situations.
"Get you GONE, I say, my lady! And YOU may explain to the Queen-to-be why it is she will not have the pleasure of my company!" The two of them withdrew, closing the door behind them, and when I was sure they were gone, I put the robe at the foot of the bed on, rose, and locked the door behind them. Then I took care of my morning necessities, washed my face with shaking hands, and crawled back under the covers, robe and all, regardless of the growing warmth of the day, to tremble silently for a long time.
Eventually, when I had begun to recover a bit from the violation, and as I had half expected, I heard Elrohir's mental voice on the other side of the door. *Snowsteel? What has happened? I could feel that you were upset about something. Will you let me in?*
*Are you alone?* I asked.
*Yes.* I got up, went to the door, unlocked it, and opened it for him. He had a white silk undertunic and dark grey breeches and boots on, and his hair fell unbraided about his shoulders. The fineness of the garb indicated that he must have been in the process of dressing himself for the wedding. I locked the door behind him, and he raised an eyebrow.
"You should finish getting ready," I told him.
"You should start getting ready," he responded.
"I am not going," I replied.
"Whyever not?" he asked in genuine puzzlement. "Arwen will be disappointed."
"Ah, but Gondor will not be embarrassed." He frowned, took a step forward, and folded me gently into his arms. We stood that way for quite a long time, the occasional shiver passing through me.
"Perhaps you should tell me what happened," he suggested at last. I touched his mind, and showed him instead, and as I did so, I could feel his concern turn to anger. His arms tightened around me.
"What an old harridan!" he said when the tale was told in full. "'Tis no wonder they call her the Dragon Lady of Dol Amroth! When they're not calling her the Iron Lady, that is! I begin to wonder if this idea of Aragorn's is a good idea at all." I nodded as I rested against his shoulder.
"She it was who was supposed to teach me court manners. I am sure that she thinks that is impossible now, and the Prince's Armsmaster is angry with me because the Prince got wounded while he was under my care. My future does not look bright in the Swan Lord's city." Elrohir dropped a kiss on my head.
"Then do not go to Dol Amroth, Snowsteel--return North with us instead." I tucked my head beneath his chin, and stroked his slender back, warm beneath the fine silk of his tunic.
"And do what, Elrohir? Sleep with you beneath your father's roof, in defiance of his wishes?"
"Father will not be there forever. He intends to take the ship West very soon. Within the next five years, I deem."
"Then perhaps when he does, I'll come North to see you. I will have finished my training by then. But I swore an oath and I can't break it. I won't break it."
"You do not have to break it," he murmured soothingly. "I can speak to Aragorn and prevail upon him to release you." I stiffened in his arms for a moment.
"Don't, Elrohir. I hate it when you try to manage my life for me."
"I do suppose that is what that would be, now that you mention it," he admitted regretfully. "I am sorry, Snowsteel--old habits die hard. And I have some very old habits." I released him and stepped back with a sad smile.
"I am very flattered that you would even want to change them on my behalf." Elrohir smiled slightly in return, wandered over to a chair, picked up a brown gown, and in a rather ludicrous display, held it up against himself.
"Not my color, I think." I had to chuckle despite the mood I was in, and his smile broadened. "Are you sure you will not come to the wedding, Snowsteel?" he coaxed, returning the dress to the chair. "I will miss you, and so will Arwen and Aragorn."
I shook my head. "I have said that I will not, and that is that. I shall stay here, and catch up on my reading. You go ahead and finish getting ready, and come back by when you are done so that I may see how beautiful you are." He started to say something--perhaps a protest or another plea--then changed his mind, and sketched me a most magnificent bow.
"As my lady commands." I moved to the door, and let him out. Then I went ahead and got dressed in my Ranger breeches and boots, and one of my more disgraceful shirts. Felith was probably not much inclined to wait upon me any further this day, I thought, and I had had no breakfast. So after Elrohir returned for final inspection, I intended to go to the servant's mess and get some food, or out into the city, perhaps to the Red Dog. I should have liked very much to have seen the wedding, but it would hardly be the first important event of the age I had missed, and Lady Tirathiel's scorn made it difficult for me to contemplate being included in the wedding party without feeling like some sort of freak.
I opened the doors of the balcony, to let in more air, and draped myself over a chair to read, trying to ignore the ever-increasing growls of my stomach. I had just succeeded in doing so when a quiet knock came at the door, and a quiet voice called out to me.
"Hethlin? Are you there?" It was my liege lord, so I had no choice but to let him in. Unlike Elrohir, he was already fully dressed, in the most extraordinary silk brocade--deep blue diapered with silver thread swans. His jeweled coronet was on his head, a very ornately jeweled dress sword hung at his side, and you could have seen yourself in the mirror finish of his boots. He looked at my state of dress, and at the book still in my hand, and sighed.
"Hethlin, would it help if I apologized on behalf of my house?"
"Did you send her to me, my lord? Did you ask her to make me presentable?"
"No! We were discussing the attendants last night, and Lothiriel had the idea that she would come and help you dress. She meant it as a friendly gesture, Hethlin, please believe that. Then her great-aunt decided that she had better oversee things. I did not know that she was going to oversee things to quite that extent. May I sit down?" It was then I realized that I was standing in his path, blocking him from entering further in some sort of instinctive defensiveness. I stepped aside.
"Of course, my lord. Please, make yourself comfortable." He took me at my word, actually crossing to the bed and pulling on the bell pull before moving the dresses that draped one of the chairs to the other chair, and seating himself in the empty one. A few moments later, with suspicious speed, Felith stuck her head warily in the door.
"My lady?" I gestured to the Prince, who looked over at her with a smile.
"I rang, Felith. Could we have some tea?" He looked back at me. "Have you breakfasted yet?" When I responded in the negative, he added, "And some breakfast for Lady Hethlin?" She bobbed a curtsey.
"Indeed, my lord prince. I will return as soon as I may." And she withdrew. The Prince leaned back in his chair.
"Tirathiel is my late wife's aunt, and she has selflessly overseen the domestic side of things at Dol Amroth since Nimrien's death. She has been a mother figure for Lothiriel since she was a small girl. Unfortunately, as my chatelaine, she also has in her care any young ladies who come to my court. I say unfortunately because she has had to put up with a perpetual procession of decidedly silly females, most of whom are interested in pursuing one of my sons, or myself. This has made her somewhat brusque and impatient. She did not realize that you were something altogether different." I gave him a very flat look.
"Actually, my lord, she did realize I was something different. She thought I was a motherless hoyden incapable of keeping myself clean, or dressing myself." The Prince winced. "And I am sure that you will next tell me that I should rise above this and present myself as part of the wedding party. What is right is the most difficult, and so forth and so on. You may even be correct. But I have been treated as if I were some sort of unwashed barbarian this morning, stripped before strangers who screamed and swooned at the sight of my unclothed body, and am feeling somewhat less than sociable as a result. I understood that Lady Tirathiel would be overseeing my courtly education, but surely you told her I would need more than three hours to complete the transformation to a proper lady."
The Prince frowned slightly at that, steepling his fingers together. "I have not discussed you with her in any depth at all yet, Hethlin. But yes, now that you mention it, I do think you should eat your breakfast, get into some of those nice clothes the two of us discussed, and attend the lady who is going to become your queen today! You had said once that you were willing to do what you could to make her feel at home. She has asked you to attend her-were your words empty ones?" I glared at him in affronted disbelief.
"Pardon me, my lord, but I am the injured party here!"
"That is very true, but by withdrawing from the wedding, you are punishing the wrong person!" he snapped, then in a calmer voice, added, "I do not mean to make light of what you suffered in any way. And I hereby tender you my formal apology for what happened to you this morning at the hands of my retainers. I will make amends to you, if you will tell me what will make you feel better about this whole business." I considered this for a moment.
"Lady Tirathiel knows she made a bad mistake, sir--I could see it in her eyes." Prince Imrahil nodded.
"She did go to Lady Arwen, as you had commanded, and explained to her what she had done, and why you would not be part of the wedding party. She is a woman of honor." I plopped down into the chair opposite him, heedless of the pile of dresses upon it, stifling a tiny inner chuckle at his wince as I did so.
"I did not think she was not. But sir, right now I am frightened that I will not do well in Dol Amroth. Your Armsmaster is angry with me because I would not tell him what had happened to you--"
"--I know that, and I have taken care of it, Hethlin," the Prince interjected. "You did just as you ought to, as I had commanded, and I made that very plain to Andrahar."
Personally, I wasn't sure that a reprimand from the Prince, if that was what had happened, would make the Armsmaster feel any better about me, but I kept that to myself. "And I know that Lady Tirathiel must think I am some sort of absolute heathen. If you could just explain a little about me to her, I think it would help. Tell her to be patient--I am willing to learn what she has to teach. But no matter what she does, or how hard I try, I will never be dainty and graceful and pretty. I'm sort of a river rock--you run a lot of water over it and it will polish up nicely. But it's not a gem." The Prince cocked an eyebrow at that.
"An interesting comparison you make there, Hethlin. I think I would dispute it with you, though. You are anything but pebble-like. Aside from being rock-stubborn at times, of course....." I smiled a little at him, and he gave me a very serious look. "Will you not come, Hethlin? For however bad a morning you have had, Arwen would still be glad of your company." Regretfully, I shook my head.
"I am sorry, sir, but I would just feel too......awkward. And freakish. Out of place."
"No one you know, the people who truly matter, would think that of you."
"Aye sir, I realize that. It is not so much what they think, but how I feel." Imrahil's brow furrowed, and his voice was tart when he answered.
"What is more important than how you feel here, Hethlin is how Arwen feels. This is the most important day of her life to date, and we should be doing everything we can to see that it is a good one. For her sake, and that of the King we both serve. I understand that you must have been both shocked and embarrassed. I sympathize with your reluctance, and I will not compel you or command you to attend. But I will think the less of you, if you do not." He got to his feet, and started for the door.
"'Think the less of me', will you?" I growled, jumping to my feet as well, thoroughly annoyed. "Would you treat Lothiriel so, my lord prince, or any other lady that had suffered as I had?" He stopped, and turned back to me.
"But you are not Lothiriel, or any other lady. You are Hethlin Blackbow of Anorien." His lips twisted in a sardonic smile. "Oh, I am sorry. Is this is the part where I am supposed to pat you on the head and say 'There, there, dear, it doesn't matter.'?" His eyes, grey and deep as the Sea, bored into mine of a sudden. "I am not going to do that, Hethlin. Because it does matter. Because you are not Lothiriel, or Eowyn. And because I am very definitely NOT Faramir!" With that, he departed, closing the door behind him with a bit more force than was perhaps strictly necessary.
I stood seething for a few moments after he left, then moved to the wardrobe and pulled out the other nice clothes I had told the Prince about at Amon Din. They were blue, but not royal Dol Amroth blue. Instead they were a duller, greyed blue that looked well with my eyes. The tunic was summer weight, and woven in a wavelike, abstract pattern, the breeches were slightly darker in color and plain weave. There was a shirt to go underneath, and it and the tunic were embroidered with threads of blue and grey and silver. All in all, a handsome outfit--but then, Elrohir had always had good taste. I had laid them over a chair, and was pondering where my grey elven boots might be when Felith returned with tea and breakfast.
"Where is the Prince, my lady?" she inquired as she began to set things out.
"He was called away, Felith," I prevaricated. "I imagine he will be very busy this morning."
"Oh, that is unfortunate." Something in her tone brought a grin to my face.
"I think you rather like the Prince, Felith." She pursed her lips up, but her face pinkened slightly.
"There is no call for you to be talking that way, my lady, when I have a perfectly good husband of my own. Though I must admit, Prince Imrahil is a very comely man. And has such lovely manners! So many as come to stay here think of the staff as naught but pieces of furniture." I wasn't sure if that was directed at me, but it did make me feel bad.
"I apologize for what I said earlier, Felith." She gave me a startled look.
"Oh, my lady, did you think I meant you? No indeed! I understood that you were upset. I owe you an apology for carrying on as I did! Your manners are well enough--you are very easy to care for. No trouble at all." I sighed in relief.
"That's good to know, but I'm going to be a little trouble now. Could you go to the Lady Arwen, and tell her I would be proud to be one of her attendants, if she will still have me? And then, if you would, please see to another matter. I had some Elven clothing and boots given to me in Lorien--would you try to find out what became of them? There is a grey pair of boots which would look well with this, but if we cannot find them, I'll wear a pair of my own. Mine will have to be polished, however." Felith nodded.
"I will do that, my lady. You just eat your breakfast, and I will help you dress when I return. I am glad that you decided to go to the wedding."
"Well, I've been thinking about it. If I don't go to these things, how else will I collect stories to bore the young with when I'm an old woman?" Felith laughed.
"I very much doubt you will be a boring old woman, my lady! You'll probably be every bit as formidable as Lady Tirathiel."
"Valar forfend!" Felith chuckled, and with a final admonition to me to eat up, set off in search of my boots.
During Felith's absence, I addressed myself to my breakfast, which was so generous as to be hobbit-sized, and in truth, felt much better once I had done so. Pondering briefly if at least part of my problem had been that Lady Tirathiel had accosted me while my stomach was empty, I washed up thoroughly, and had got as far as I could with the dressing process when she returned, bearing with her my boots, my elven clothing, and Elrohir, who had completed his own garbing, and bore an armload of sundry items with him.
He set his burden down, and straightened up, and I whistled appreciatively, which cause him to smile rakishly in response. His tunic came to mid-thigh, but the sleeves nearly dragged the ground, and were bordered in an ornate pattern of flowers in silver thread, echoing the pattern in the tunic itself. The hem and collar were also ornately embroidered. The pattern put me in mind of the work on Arwen's wedding dress, and I wondered if she had made it with her own hands. A circlet of wrought silver leaves and flowers sat upon his unbound hair, and a matching belt spanned his narrow waist. The flower motif, which would have seemed overly feminine upon a Man, suited him very well.
"You look like a star that has fallen to earth," I told him. "A very flowery star." He grinned, pleased.
"Given that my grandfather is a star, I suppose that that is fitting." Felith's eyes widened, and I once again had one of those weird, unreal moments when I wondered exactly how I had come to be involved with such a being. Sensing my thought, he gave me a concerned look.
"Are you well, Snowsteel?" I shook myself.
"Aye. Very well, in fact. What have you here?"
"Some things I borrowed in case you needed them. I am very glad you decided to join us this day after all."
"As am I," I said, surprised at the sincerity I felt. Elrohir handed me my boots, and I pulled them on. He then surveyed me critically.
"Those look well," he commented, "but your old swordbelt will not serve. And you need something for your head. Here, I borrowed this from Glorfindel. See if your sword will fit." "This" was an ornate belt of interwoven silver chains of divers sorts, which clasped at the waist with a flower clasp. A beautiful scabbard engraved with more flowers depended from it. When I tried my blade in it, I found that it fitted perfectly, and when I clasped it around my waist, I found that it fit me as well as the sword. But then, Lord Glorfindel was the biggest Elf I had ever seen.... Elrohir was very pleased with himself, but I had some concerns.
"Are you sure that Lord Glorfindel does not need this?" My elf-lord shook his head.
"Valar, no! He's dressing in gold today. If I am a star, then he is going to look like a great big sun that just fell into the Court of the Fountain. 'Ware how you gaze upon him, Snowsteel--it would not do for you to be blinded by mistake!" I laughed, as did Felith, though she was rather quiet about it. Elrohir threw her one of his charming smiles, then picked up a floaty, silky, silvery cloak from the pile. Its purpose was purely decorative--it was too light to be useful and that was a good thing as warm as the day promised to be. It fastened with a fanciful curlicue clasp about my neck. Finally, he produced something I recognized--the slender star circlet I'd worn in Lorien. Indicating that Felith should comb my hair out, he waited till she was finished, then set it carefully upon my head. Stepping back to survey his handiwork, he smiled with satisfaction.
"What do you think, lady?" he asked Felith politely. "Will she serve?" A bit startled at having her opinion solicited, Felith stammered slightly as she answered.
"Indeed, my lord, she looks very nice! You have a good eye for such things." He acknowledged the compliment with a nod, then stepped forward and gave me a swift kiss.
"I have to return to Arwen," he explained, "For I promised I would not be away long. All you have to do is meet me in the main hall a half hour before noon. The way it was explained last night is that we will process to the Court of the Fountain in pairs, Elven man paired with woman of Gondor and vice versa." He grinned. "Coincidentally convenient, wouldn't you say? Guess who my woman of Gondor is going to be?" I chuckled, very pleased that I would be escorted by him rather than a stranger. Though it might have been nice to be paired with Faramir...... "When we enter the Court, we will then part company, and split into the bride's and groom's parties, leaving a center aisle clear. Arwen and Aragorn will process up that to the Tree, and there they will be wed. After the ceremony, we will repeat the procedure in reverse. Simple enough?"
"Aye. I think I can manage that." Another swift kiss, and he was gone out the door with a last, cheerful wave over his shoulder. Felith stared after him in sudden, astonished realization.
"My lady, he's......he's your young man, isn't he?" I unclasped the cloak, and draped it over the dress-covered chair, for about an hour remained before the ceremony, and I did not want it crushed and wrinkled. Seating myself in the empty chair, I picked up the book I'd been reading before, and smiled at her.
"No Felith, he's not my young man. He's my old elf."