Author's Note--This chapter is for Arwen Lune, a long-time reader who had the same idea, and cared enough to write me about it.
The saddler's shop smelled wonderful, but then I have always been a person who loves the scent of well-cured leather. Mablung and I arrived just as his betrothed was closing up the shop for the night, and I wandered over to admire a display of saddles for a moment, to give them a bit of privacy. Running my fingers gently over a saddle intricately carved with roses, I grinned as muffled sounds of affectionate greeting rose behind me. Eventually, footsteps drew near, and Mablung spoke, his voice a little gruff.
"Heth, I'd like you to meet my betrothed." I turned.
Delyth was young enough, as Faramir had said, but a young woman rather than a girl, with the tiniest of crinkles at the corners of her eyes from smiling. And she was pretty enough as well, with a freckled face, shortish nose and wide blue eyes. Not that much shorter than Mablung, she stood comfortably within the circle of his arm, smiled at me and stuck out her hand. Smiling, I clasped hers in turn.
"Hethlin, this is Delyth, daughter of Deorwyn, my betrothed. Delyth, this is Hethlin daughter of Halaran, esquire to Prince Imrahil, former Ranger of Ithilien, and my very good friend."
"I have heard much of you, Lady Hethlin," Delyth said. Her voice was low and husky, but pleasant.
"I wish that I could say the same, mistress, but Mablung has been very close-mouthed about you." Mablung grimaced at me, and I relented. "Though in truth, I have been out of the City for some time, or I am sure that I would have heard your praises sung many times."
"Perhaps you would have, perhaps not. You are right in saying that he has been close-mouthed," Delyth commented, "Though having seen how his men have carried on about this, I understand why! Come, supper is nearly ready. Follow me." I followed behind them to the back of the shop, observing the way Mablung's hand never left her waist with great amusement. There, we mounted some stairs to the upper story, where the family had its living quarters. They were a spacious set of rooms, and reflecting the saddlers' prosperity, very comfortably furnished. Some delicious smells were emanating from the kitchen.
There I met Deorwyn, her father, her younger brothers Deoran, Danwyn and Danloth and her mother Elrith. Deoran, I discovered, had twenty-two years upon him, and was actively courting a lady of his own. Danwyn, the most quiet and thoughtful of the three, was eighteen. Danloth was barely sixteen. Unlike many native Gondorians, they had stayed in the City during the siege, and had the scars to prove it. Not formally war-trained, they had been part of the militia, and had helped with putting out fires, clearing the streets of fallen, burned buildings, carrying wounded to the Houses of Healing, and water to the warriors on the wall. Swords they had borne as well, even the youngest, in case the walls were breached, and the fighting came inside. Poor Danloth had weals upon the left side of his face and his left hand and arm from being too close when one of the fiery missiles the Enemy had shot over the wall landed near to him, and Master Deorwyn limped a bit from where a collapsing building had caught his foot under a rain of stone, and it had healed badly. The family were all typical Rohirrim--tall, blonde, and formidable looking, including the mother, and I cocked an eyebrow at Mablung.
"However did you slip past this lot to get any courting done?"
"Ranger stealth," Mablung answered matter-of-factly, and laughter rang about the room. I grinned, and moved to Elrith, to present her with my contribution to the evening, a net bag full of oranges.
"Trust me, mistress, you would not care to eat anything I cooked, but I found these in the market and thought they would serve." Elrith smiled with pleasure, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that foretold how her daughter would look when she was older.
"They will serve indeed! We shall have them for dessert! But you shouldn't have done this, lady--oranges are very dear! We usually only have them for feast days, when they are in season."
"I have a friend who likes them, and he introduced me to them. I found them quite tasty and thought you would like them as well." The other half of the case, which I had bought for an exorbitant price after much haggling, was ensconced in the cooling cellar of the King's kitchens, packed in wood shavings, and labeled with my name and promises of doom to anyone who touched them. I had intimated to the fussy butler in the kitchens that if a single one of them were so much as breathed upon, I would summon an Eagle to deal with him personally. The merchant had assured me that they would remain fresh long enough for Elrohir to enjoy them when he returned from Ithilien, and I was looking forward to surprising him.
Elrith carried her oranges back to her kitchen, which I knew better than to intrude upon. Returning to the parlor, I saw the youngest son, Danloth, look up alertly at a faint noise from the shop below.
"I think your other friends are here, Captain," he told Mablung, and went downstairs to let them in. He returned shortly thereafter with Lorend, who came up the stairs slowly because of his leg, carrying a large cheese, and Anborn, his cheek long healed, and his arm about a petite, pretty woman with hair so black it almost looked blue. There was a bottle in his other hand.
Much greeting ensued, and their contributions vanished into the kitchen as well. I regarded Anborn's companion curiously.
"Who is your young lady, Anborn?" He smiled down at her, and she tipped her head up and smiled back at him. His answer was brief and to the point, as usual.
"My wife, Melyanna."
"You aren't married!"
"Wasn't married," he corrected. "Am now."
"But you didn't invite any of us!"
"Nay. Melyanna is shy. Didn't want to scare her away. Besides," and here he gave Mablung a disgruntled look, "I don't need a traveling show to get the job done, like some people." Mablung harrumphed, and we all laughed. Lorend sidled over to Melyanna, regarding her with a certain degree of aesthetic appreciation. She in her turn regarded him with wary trepidation, an attitude I thought indicated a great deal of common sense on her part.
"Allow me to commend you upon your recent nuptials, mistress," he purred in his most smarmy, pick-up-the-barmaid tone of voice. She shrank back against Anborn a little, and he gave Lorend a flat look.
"Cease Lorend, or I'll break your other leg." Since the taciturn ranger had never made a threat he wasn't capable of carrying out, Lorend, quelled, retreated over to me. Anborn smiled down at his wife reassuringly, an expression I'd seldom seen on him, that turned his saturnine face into something almost handsome. She smiled meltingly back at him, and watching the two of them, I grinned. Somehow, some way, the lieutenant had found a woman who was even more reticent than himself.
"Are you in for the wedding, Anborn?" I asked. He shook his head, and braced himself to converse.
"Nay. The Captain"--it took me a moment to realize he was speaking of Damrod, old habits died hard--"minded the store, as it were, while I was settling matters with Melyanna. She doesn't like to be in crowds, so I said I'd bring her here tonight so we could meet Mablung's lady, and I'll go back out tomorrow so he can come in for the wedding." Melyanna looked somewhat saddened at this prospect, which garnered her another smile from her new husband. She had yet to say a word herself.
"The meat is on the boards!" Elrith called out just then, and we turned to find her beckoning us into a dining room. There, the fruits of her labors were spread in fragrant profusion. She was a woman who knew how to cook, was used to cooking for four large men with large appetites and had obviously gone to a great effort to impress her new son-in-law's friends. There was meat, roasts and chickens indeed, but also many side dishes, and some absolutely beautiful bread. Watching the eager way in which her husband, sons, daughter, and my fellow Rangers sat down and began passing plates around, I realized that I'd been dining amongst the mighty too much of late, and had better lose those pretty manners I'd cultivated, if I were to get anything to eat at all.
For a while, in fact, there was no dinner conversation whatsoever, other than requests to pass something. All present were deeply involved in filling first their plates, then their mouths, with the bounty laid before them. Only when the worst pangs of hunger had been laid to rest did the talk begin. And it began with me.
"Mablung tells us that you went on a journey for the King recently, Lady Hethlin," Delyth remarked, "Can you speak of it, or is it a secret matter?"
"Not secret any longer," I replied. "The Prince of Dol Amroth, the King's foster brothers and myself traveled to Lothlorien to escort the Lady Arwen to her marriage." Eyes widened all around the table. Good Gondorian citizens that they were now, Delyth's family were Rohirric, and still remembered the tradition of dread that lay over the Golden Wood. My Ranger friends were also rather surprised.
"You entered that place, and emerged unscathed?" Master Deorwyn exclaimed. "You must be mighty indeed, shieldmaiden!" I laughed.
"Might did not come into it, sir! We were guests, and treated very well indeed! Besides, if you wish to fear the Wood, consider that its Lord and Lady are in the City at this very moment, guests of the King. They are the Queen's grandparents." Delyth's family all stared at each other for a few moments, then her father laughed.
"You make a valid point, lady! And since we are obviously all not bewitched--" he paused, and regarded Mablung thoughtfully, "or at least not bewitched very much, though an elvish enchantment could explain this Ranger I suddenly find in my family--I suppose there is not much to fear at that!" A laugh rose up then, though Anborn and Lorend looked to Mablung first to see if he were angered by the jest, which he was not.
Mistress Elrith, obviously very curious, asked me, "Do the elves eat as we do? How did they feed you when you were among them?" I explained as best I could about the elven food I had eaten, including the leaf-cakes, which did not impress her as much as I thought they would.
"Those sound rather like the cone-cakes I used to make when the children were smaller." Deoran, the oldest son, then mentioned rather plaintively that even large, grown children appreciated cone-cakes though they never received them anymore, which caused another round of laughter. I was glad to see that Mablung was joining himself to such a good-humored family.
Other questions then followed, about their houses and customs, which I answered as best I could. Danwyn commented softly, "You seem to know a great deal about the Elder folk, lady. How do you find them?" I gave the question hard thought for a moment before I replied, for it was difficult to find words that conveyed what I felt.
"Much of the time, it is as if you were talking to someone who is like anyone else. Then, just when you are forgetting what they are, they say something like 'My grandfather is a star' or 'I have walked the world since before there was a sun or a moon'. You look into their eyes, and it is like looking into a deep, deep, bottomless well, and you realize you are like a little, chirping insect next to them. It is hard to look into an elf's eyes for any length of time."
"They are strange. They sleep with their eyes open. They can even sleep while walking the world, seemingly awake. They are annoying, for they do most everything well, and they hardly ever seem to get dirty. They are graceful, and melodious, and it is difficult sometimes to get straight answers out of them. A great many of them seem as if they are gone already, thought their bodies are still here. And they are wondrous! I am sad that they are departing our world, and that my children's children will probably never know about them, save for stories. Middle-earth will be a poorer, greyer place without them."
"But they are going back to their home, and that is as it should be, surely?" asked Delyth quizzically. I shook my head.
"Nay, this is their home. They were born here long before us, and they used to have these beautiful kingdoms and cities. Lord Glorfindel was speaking of them when we were almost to the City, and though it has been thousands of years since they fell, he made it sound as if it were yesterday to him." I did not think it wise to go into the story Elrohir had told me about Glorfindel and the Balrog. No need to terrify these people with tales of Elves who died and got better afterwards. "He made them sound so beautiful that I was sad that I never got a chance to see them." I paused then, realizing something suddenly. Remembering Lady Galadriel's words to the Prince at the Mirror, and his rather cryptic answer to me, I thought I could now make a good guess as to what he had asked to see. And I had to agree with her, that Imrahil had been wise to ask for a vision that had naught to do with him, that would not instill regret or doubt or worry, but was something that he could remember with pleasure to the end of his days.
Looking up from my woolgathering, I found people regarding me with varying expressions of amazement.
"Goodness, I am the only person talking here! I think we've had enough talk of Elves, in any event--why does someone not tell me what's been going on in the City since I've been away?" The conversation then turned, almost with relief it seemed, to the mundane goings on of Minas Tirith--the influx of new residents, Faramir's plans for renovating the City, and the outlandish appearance and customs of some of the foreign dignitaries who had arrived to treat with the King. I was able to take a break, and catch up on my eating, a task I engaged in with great pleasure. No one in Delyth's family seemed to take it amiss that I had a large appetite for a woman, which was comforting. I was not forced to contribute to the talk for a long while, until Master Deorwyn asked a question regarding his business.
"Perhaps you can answer something for me, Lady Hethlin, as you are in the Prince's service."
"I will if I can, sir."
"As Mablung might have told you, we do the Prince's saddlery work for him, exclusively. A couple of days ago, he put in a rush order for a set of harness for a pair of heavy horse. Our finest work, he said. Which is not unusual, for the Prince never buys aught but the best. But he specifically said that the brightwork was not to have the Dol Amroth sigil, which is a good thing, since I order that specially and it would not have come in time in any event. And he told Delyth, who does the tooling, that the design did not matter, but that he wanted it ornamented, and she could do whatever pleased her best in that department."
"There is a design that looks like basket weaving, and I put that upon it, for I have always liked how it looked," Delyth said, and Deoran spoke up.
"Father wants to know what is going on, for it can't be for the Prince's carriage--he'd have his own sigils on it then, and besides, he puts fours and sixes to his carriages, and there would have been matching harnesses for the leaders and wheelers. You know how particular he is about the little things--he would never have his carriage horses in mismatched harness." I agreed that the Prince would never allow such a travesty, but declared myself baffled as well.
"It is not that I am sticking my nose in where it's none of my business--," the saddler said, giving his son a reproving look for his interruption.
"--Yes, it is, dear," interjected his wife placidly, and the Rangers chuckled. "The Prince's custom is always good, and that is all that need concern you."
"--but I thought that if you knew something of the purpose it was intended for, it would better help me to please him." His endeavor to look virtuous fell a little flat, and his sons all rolled their eyes and groaned. I considered the evidence.
"You said that it was a rush order, did you not? When did he wish it to be finished?"
"He wanted it the day before the wedding. Said he wanted Delyth to do the tooling and paid handsomely for the extra trouble. Which he should, as she has had plenty of other things to do."
"You said the harness was for heavy horses?"
"Aye. Dray horses from the look of it. He has a couple of those, fine ones, that he puts to the carriage in heavy weather. But I can't fathom why he wants a set for a pair alone."
"The Prince has not spoken to me of this at all, and I do not live with his household yet, so I have heard nothing," I admitted. "But perhaps....." I added slowly, thinking my way through it, "he is giving Prince Faramir a heavy team. Such horses would be very useful for hauling rubble away, and even pulling buildings down." The saddler's eyebrows went up.
"I hadn't considered that! You might be right! Makes as much sense as anything!" The matter settled to his satisfaction, the conversation turned again, this time to doings in Ithilien. The Rangers held forth, or at least Lorend and Mablung did, while Delyth's family listened, and asked occasional questions. This was of interest to me as well, and I was listening contentedly when Delyth arose, and came around to my side of the table.
"Mother?" she said. "There is something downstairs I would like to show Lady Hethlin. May I take a moment? We will be back in time for desert." Mistress Elrith nodded placidly.
"If Lady Hethlin doesn't mind."
I grinned. "A shop full of the finest saddles and bridles in Gondor? No, I don't mind!" The saddler chuckled, and Mablung gave his fiance a curious look. He got a bright smile thrown over her shoulder in return, as Delyth accompanied me down the stairs.
Once back within the confines of the shop, the indistinct murmur of voices from upstairs could be heard, but specific words were indiscernible. Assuming the reverse was true as well, I gave Delyth a wry look.
"I am going to need a bridle for a young horse soon, something that can be easily let out as she grows, but I suspect that you did not bring me down here to make a sale." She shook her head, and leaned back upon her elbows against the counter with a sigh, looking a bit uncomfortable.
"Nay, I did not. I wish to know about you and Mablung; about what, if anything, has been between you. I need to know that before I go any further with this. He talks about you quite a lot, you see."
"You're not considering breaking the betrothal, are you?" I asked in surprise.
"That depends upon what you tell me here. I have no desire to be tending his land and his children while he frolics in the forest with you." I frowned.
"This assumption people keep voicing, that I spent my entire time in Ithilien sleeping with the Rangers gets tiresome after a while, Mistress." She blushed, shame-faced.
"I would imagine that it does. And we have shield maidens among our folk who do not do that sort of thing. But I would like to know if he can give me his heart wholly." I sighed. In truth, I had rather expected an interrogation of this sort at some point. But it would have been nice to have been wrong.
"Very well then, Delyth. I swear by my House and by my father's sword that what I tell you now is the truth." Her eyes widened at the seriousness of the oath. "The Rangers found me when I was seventeen. They fished me out of the Anduin. A scouting party of orcs had killed my family. They spared me and took me along on their return trip for.....entertainment, if you know what I mean." She nodded soberly.
"We heard of such things happening to our kin in the Eastfold."
"Indeed. When the Rangers found me, I was nearly dead. Captain Faramir gave me into Mablung's keeping, for he was the one who did the majority of the leechwork among the Rangers. I will not lie to you--during the time in which he nursed me back to health, he did have his hands on me in places only a lover would ordinarily touch--the nature of my injuries made that necessary." She started to speak, but I cut her off with a sharp gesture.
"But after I had healed, and those attentions were no longer necessary, he never touched me in that way again. Neither lip nor hand did he ever lay upon me in lechery. He taught me to be a good Ranger, and saved my life more than once. He has been like unto a brother to me, or even a father, and he is one of the three men in Gondor I respect most after the King. The other two are Princes. I consider him kin, and if you wed him, you may call upon me as such, you and the children you will have with him. And if you ever harm or dishonor him, you will answer to me! Does that satisfy you?" She regarded me gravely for a moment, then a smile lit her face, and rather to my surprise, she embraced me.
"Aye, it more than satisfies, Lady Hethlin! Sorry I am if I made you cross with my question! Will you forgive me?" I narrowed my eyes at her.
"Under one condition." At her quizzical look, I explained. "You had better make him happy!" She chuckled, a rather unique, gurgling sound.
"I will try my best to do so!" And at that, we went back upstairs to eat dessert as friends--albeit new and tentative ones. Dessert was my oranges, Lorend's cheese, which turned out to be very fine indeed, and Elrith's tasty nut bread. After that, Delyth's brothers seemed eager to do a bit of gaming with the Rangers, and Melyanna seemed content to wordlessly admire Elrith's spinning and embroidery, but I pled the weariness of recent illness, thanked my host and hostess and returned to the Citadel. There, I dressed for bed, laid me down and spent some time reflecting upon how all of the Rangers of my acquaintance, like the Prince's Swan Knights, seemed to be set upon getting themselves married as swiftly as possible--with the exception of Lorend, of course. There was no doubt that both Mablung and Anborn were deeply attached to the women they had chosen. I liked Delyth very well, and could hardly find fault with Melyanna--I still didn't know anything about her!
Not so long ago, I had wanted to cleave unto Faramir in that way--indeed, I still did, though I had repressed it so forcibly that it did not trouble me very often any more. And even wanting him as I had, there had been no clear idea on my part about what being married to someone really meant. Thinking back upon the uncomprehending observations of my mother and father I had made as a child, it seemed to the adult eye that they had shared everything that came to them, and were very much in love. And from what Prince Imrahil had said, he had enjoyed the same sort of special relationship with his wife as well. But I also knew that being bound forever to the wrong person would be the worst sort of torment, and that it did happen to people.
Once I had told Prince Imrahil what I would have expected of the person that I loved. And I knew now that I expected marriage to be something more than a convenient material compact, or even an easy, friendly, comfortable relationship entered into because of mutual need. I wanted it all, despite the risks--I wanted the grand passion. I hadn't a clue as to how I was going to get it, but that was what I wanted. It was perhaps just as well that I was, as my grandfather had noted, rather young yet.
The saddler's shop smelled wonderful, but then I have always been a person who loves the scent of well-cured leather. Mablung and I arrived just as his betrothed was closing up the shop for the night, and I wandered over to admire a display of saddles for a moment, to give them a bit of privacy. Running my fingers gently over a saddle intricately carved with roses, I grinned as muffled sounds of affectionate greeting rose behind me. Eventually, footsteps drew near, and Mablung spoke, his voice a little gruff.
"Heth, I'd like you to meet my betrothed." I turned.
Delyth was young enough, as Faramir had said, but a young woman rather than a girl, with the tiniest of crinkles at the corners of her eyes from smiling. And she was pretty enough as well, with a freckled face, shortish nose and wide blue eyes. Not that much shorter than Mablung, she stood comfortably within the circle of his arm, smiled at me and stuck out her hand. Smiling, I clasped hers in turn.
"Hethlin, this is Delyth, daughter of Deorwyn, my betrothed. Delyth, this is Hethlin daughter of Halaran, esquire to Prince Imrahil, former Ranger of Ithilien, and my very good friend."
"I have heard much of you, Lady Hethlin," Delyth said. Her voice was low and husky, but pleasant.
"I wish that I could say the same, mistress, but Mablung has been very close-mouthed about you." Mablung grimaced at me, and I relented. "Though in truth, I have been out of the City for some time, or I am sure that I would have heard your praises sung many times."
"Perhaps you would have, perhaps not. You are right in saying that he has been close-mouthed," Delyth commented, "Though having seen how his men have carried on about this, I understand why! Come, supper is nearly ready. Follow me." I followed behind them to the back of the shop, observing the way Mablung's hand never left her waist with great amusement. There, we mounted some stairs to the upper story, where the family had its living quarters. They were a spacious set of rooms, and reflecting the saddlers' prosperity, very comfortably furnished. Some delicious smells were emanating from the kitchen.
There I met Deorwyn, her father, her younger brothers Deoran, Danwyn and Danloth and her mother Elrith. Deoran, I discovered, had twenty-two years upon him, and was actively courting a lady of his own. Danwyn, the most quiet and thoughtful of the three, was eighteen. Danloth was barely sixteen. Unlike many native Gondorians, they had stayed in the City during the siege, and had the scars to prove it. Not formally war-trained, they had been part of the militia, and had helped with putting out fires, clearing the streets of fallen, burned buildings, carrying wounded to the Houses of Healing, and water to the warriors on the wall. Swords they had borne as well, even the youngest, in case the walls were breached, and the fighting came inside. Poor Danloth had weals upon the left side of his face and his left hand and arm from being too close when one of the fiery missiles the Enemy had shot over the wall landed near to him, and Master Deorwyn limped a bit from where a collapsing building had caught his foot under a rain of stone, and it had healed badly. The family were all typical Rohirrim--tall, blonde, and formidable looking, including the mother, and I cocked an eyebrow at Mablung.
"However did you slip past this lot to get any courting done?"
"Ranger stealth," Mablung answered matter-of-factly, and laughter rang about the room. I grinned, and moved to Elrith, to present her with my contribution to the evening, a net bag full of oranges.
"Trust me, mistress, you would not care to eat anything I cooked, but I found these in the market and thought they would serve." Elrith smiled with pleasure, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that foretold how her daughter would look when she was older.
"They will serve indeed! We shall have them for dessert! But you shouldn't have done this, lady--oranges are very dear! We usually only have them for feast days, when they are in season."
"I have a friend who likes them, and he introduced me to them. I found them quite tasty and thought you would like them as well." The other half of the case, which I had bought for an exorbitant price after much haggling, was ensconced in the cooling cellar of the King's kitchens, packed in wood shavings, and labeled with my name and promises of doom to anyone who touched them. I had intimated to the fussy butler in the kitchens that if a single one of them were so much as breathed upon, I would summon an Eagle to deal with him personally. The merchant had assured me that they would remain fresh long enough for Elrohir to enjoy them when he returned from Ithilien, and I was looking forward to surprising him.
Elrith carried her oranges back to her kitchen, which I knew better than to intrude upon. Returning to the parlor, I saw the youngest son, Danloth, look up alertly at a faint noise from the shop below.
"I think your other friends are here, Captain," he told Mablung, and went downstairs to let them in. He returned shortly thereafter with Lorend, who came up the stairs slowly because of his leg, carrying a large cheese, and Anborn, his cheek long healed, and his arm about a petite, pretty woman with hair so black it almost looked blue. There was a bottle in his other hand.
Much greeting ensued, and their contributions vanished into the kitchen as well. I regarded Anborn's companion curiously.
"Who is your young lady, Anborn?" He smiled down at her, and she tipped her head up and smiled back at him. His answer was brief and to the point, as usual.
"My wife, Melyanna."
"You aren't married!"
"Wasn't married," he corrected. "Am now."
"But you didn't invite any of us!"
"Nay. Melyanna is shy. Didn't want to scare her away. Besides," and here he gave Mablung a disgruntled look, "I don't need a traveling show to get the job done, like some people." Mablung harrumphed, and we all laughed. Lorend sidled over to Melyanna, regarding her with a certain degree of aesthetic appreciation. She in her turn regarded him with wary trepidation, an attitude I thought indicated a great deal of common sense on her part.
"Allow me to commend you upon your recent nuptials, mistress," he purred in his most smarmy, pick-up-the-barmaid tone of voice. She shrank back against Anborn a little, and he gave Lorend a flat look.
"Cease Lorend, or I'll break your other leg." Since the taciturn ranger had never made a threat he wasn't capable of carrying out, Lorend, quelled, retreated over to me. Anborn smiled down at his wife reassuringly, an expression I'd seldom seen on him, that turned his saturnine face into something almost handsome. She smiled meltingly back at him, and watching the two of them, I grinned. Somehow, some way, the lieutenant had found a woman who was even more reticent than himself.
"Are you in for the wedding, Anborn?" I asked. He shook his head, and braced himself to converse.
"Nay. The Captain"--it took me a moment to realize he was speaking of Damrod, old habits died hard--"minded the store, as it were, while I was settling matters with Melyanna. She doesn't like to be in crowds, so I said I'd bring her here tonight so we could meet Mablung's lady, and I'll go back out tomorrow so he can come in for the wedding." Melyanna looked somewhat saddened at this prospect, which garnered her another smile from her new husband. She had yet to say a word herself.
"The meat is on the boards!" Elrith called out just then, and we turned to find her beckoning us into a dining room. There, the fruits of her labors were spread in fragrant profusion. She was a woman who knew how to cook, was used to cooking for four large men with large appetites and had obviously gone to a great effort to impress her new son-in-law's friends. There was meat, roasts and chickens indeed, but also many side dishes, and some absolutely beautiful bread. Watching the eager way in which her husband, sons, daughter, and my fellow Rangers sat down and began passing plates around, I realized that I'd been dining amongst the mighty too much of late, and had better lose those pretty manners I'd cultivated, if I were to get anything to eat at all.
For a while, in fact, there was no dinner conversation whatsoever, other than requests to pass something. All present were deeply involved in filling first their plates, then their mouths, with the bounty laid before them. Only when the worst pangs of hunger had been laid to rest did the talk begin. And it began with me.
"Mablung tells us that you went on a journey for the King recently, Lady Hethlin," Delyth remarked, "Can you speak of it, or is it a secret matter?"
"Not secret any longer," I replied. "The Prince of Dol Amroth, the King's foster brothers and myself traveled to Lothlorien to escort the Lady Arwen to her marriage." Eyes widened all around the table. Good Gondorian citizens that they were now, Delyth's family were Rohirric, and still remembered the tradition of dread that lay over the Golden Wood. My Ranger friends were also rather surprised.
"You entered that place, and emerged unscathed?" Master Deorwyn exclaimed. "You must be mighty indeed, shieldmaiden!" I laughed.
"Might did not come into it, sir! We were guests, and treated very well indeed! Besides, if you wish to fear the Wood, consider that its Lord and Lady are in the City at this very moment, guests of the King. They are the Queen's grandparents." Delyth's family all stared at each other for a few moments, then her father laughed.
"You make a valid point, lady! And since we are obviously all not bewitched--" he paused, and regarded Mablung thoughtfully, "or at least not bewitched very much, though an elvish enchantment could explain this Ranger I suddenly find in my family--I suppose there is not much to fear at that!" A laugh rose up then, though Anborn and Lorend looked to Mablung first to see if he were angered by the jest, which he was not.
Mistress Elrith, obviously very curious, asked me, "Do the elves eat as we do? How did they feed you when you were among them?" I explained as best I could about the elven food I had eaten, including the leaf-cakes, which did not impress her as much as I thought they would.
"Those sound rather like the cone-cakes I used to make when the children were smaller." Deoran, the oldest son, then mentioned rather plaintively that even large, grown children appreciated cone-cakes though they never received them anymore, which caused another round of laughter. I was glad to see that Mablung was joining himself to such a good-humored family.
Other questions then followed, about their houses and customs, which I answered as best I could. Danwyn commented softly, "You seem to know a great deal about the Elder folk, lady. How do you find them?" I gave the question hard thought for a moment before I replied, for it was difficult to find words that conveyed what I felt.
"Much of the time, it is as if you were talking to someone who is like anyone else. Then, just when you are forgetting what they are, they say something like 'My grandfather is a star' or 'I have walked the world since before there was a sun or a moon'. You look into their eyes, and it is like looking into a deep, deep, bottomless well, and you realize you are like a little, chirping insect next to them. It is hard to look into an elf's eyes for any length of time."
"They are strange. They sleep with their eyes open. They can even sleep while walking the world, seemingly awake. They are annoying, for they do most everything well, and they hardly ever seem to get dirty. They are graceful, and melodious, and it is difficult sometimes to get straight answers out of them. A great many of them seem as if they are gone already, thought their bodies are still here. And they are wondrous! I am sad that they are departing our world, and that my children's children will probably never know about them, save for stories. Middle-earth will be a poorer, greyer place without them."
"But they are going back to their home, and that is as it should be, surely?" asked Delyth quizzically. I shook my head.
"Nay, this is their home. They were born here long before us, and they used to have these beautiful kingdoms and cities. Lord Glorfindel was speaking of them when we were almost to the City, and though it has been thousands of years since they fell, he made it sound as if it were yesterday to him." I did not think it wise to go into the story Elrohir had told me about Glorfindel and the Balrog. No need to terrify these people with tales of Elves who died and got better afterwards. "He made them sound so beautiful that I was sad that I never got a chance to see them." I paused then, realizing something suddenly. Remembering Lady Galadriel's words to the Prince at the Mirror, and his rather cryptic answer to me, I thought I could now make a good guess as to what he had asked to see. And I had to agree with her, that Imrahil had been wise to ask for a vision that had naught to do with him, that would not instill regret or doubt or worry, but was something that he could remember with pleasure to the end of his days.
Looking up from my woolgathering, I found people regarding me with varying expressions of amazement.
"Goodness, I am the only person talking here! I think we've had enough talk of Elves, in any event--why does someone not tell me what's been going on in the City since I've been away?" The conversation then turned, almost with relief it seemed, to the mundane goings on of Minas Tirith--the influx of new residents, Faramir's plans for renovating the City, and the outlandish appearance and customs of some of the foreign dignitaries who had arrived to treat with the King. I was able to take a break, and catch up on my eating, a task I engaged in with great pleasure. No one in Delyth's family seemed to take it amiss that I had a large appetite for a woman, which was comforting. I was not forced to contribute to the talk for a long while, until Master Deorwyn asked a question regarding his business.
"Perhaps you can answer something for me, Lady Hethlin, as you are in the Prince's service."
"I will if I can, sir."
"As Mablung might have told you, we do the Prince's saddlery work for him, exclusively. A couple of days ago, he put in a rush order for a set of harness for a pair of heavy horse. Our finest work, he said. Which is not unusual, for the Prince never buys aught but the best. But he specifically said that the brightwork was not to have the Dol Amroth sigil, which is a good thing, since I order that specially and it would not have come in time in any event. And he told Delyth, who does the tooling, that the design did not matter, but that he wanted it ornamented, and she could do whatever pleased her best in that department."
"There is a design that looks like basket weaving, and I put that upon it, for I have always liked how it looked," Delyth said, and Deoran spoke up.
"Father wants to know what is going on, for it can't be for the Prince's carriage--he'd have his own sigils on it then, and besides, he puts fours and sixes to his carriages, and there would have been matching harnesses for the leaders and wheelers. You know how particular he is about the little things--he would never have his carriage horses in mismatched harness." I agreed that the Prince would never allow such a travesty, but declared myself baffled as well.
"It is not that I am sticking my nose in where it's none of my business--," the saddler said, giving his son a reproving look for his interruption.
"--Yes, it is, dear," interjected his wife placidly, and the Rangers chuckled. "The Prince's custom is always good, and that is all that need concern you."
"--but I thought that if you knew something of the purpose it was intended for, it would better help me to please him." His endeavor to look virtuous fell a little flat, and his sons all rolled their eyes and groaned. I considered the evidence.
"You said that it was a rush order, did you not? When did he wish it to be finished?"
"He wanted it the day before the wedding. Said he wanted Delyth to do the tooling and paid handsomely for the extra trouble. Which he should, as she has had plenty of other things to do."
"You said the harness was for heavy horses?"
"Aye. Dray horses from the look of it. He has a couple of those, fine ones, that he puts to the carriage in heavy weather. But I can't fathom why he wants a set for a pair alone."
"The Prince has not spoken to me of this at all, and I do not live with his household yet, so I have heard nothing," I admitted. "But perhaps....." I added slowly, thinking my way through it, "he is giving Prince Faramir a heavy team. Such horses would be very useful for hauling rubble away, and even pulling buildings down." The saddler's eyebrows went up.
"I hadn't considered that! You might be right! Makes as much sense as anything!" The matter settled to his satisfaction, the conversation turned again, this time to doings in Ithilien. The Rangers held forth, or at least Lorend and Mablung did, while Delyth's family listened, and asked occasional questions. This was of interest to me as well, and I was listening contentedly when Delyth arose, and came around to my side of the table.
"Mother?" she said. "There is something downstairs I would like to show Lady Hethlin. May I take a moment? We will be back in time for desert." Mistress Elrith nodded placidly.
"If Lady Hethlin doesn't mind."
I grinned. "A shop full of the finest saddles and bridles in Gondor? No, I don't mind!" The saddler chuckled, and Mablung gave his fiance a curious look. He got a bright smile thrown over her shoulder in return, as Delyth accompanied me down the stairs.
Once back within the confines of the shop, the indistinct murmur of voices from upstairs could be heard, but specific words were indiscernible. Assuming the reverse was true as well, I gave Delyth a wry look.
"I am going to need a bridle for a young horse soon, something that can be easily let out as she grows, but I suspect that you did not bring me down here to make a sale." She shook her head, and leaned back upon her elbows against the counter with a sigh, looking a bit uncomfortable.
"Nay, I did not. I wish to know about you and Mablung; about what, if anything, has been between you. I need to know that before I go any further with this. He talks about you quite a lot, you see."
"You're not considering breaking the betrothal, are you?" I asked in surprise.
"That depends upon what you tell me here. I have no desire to be tending his land and his children while he frolics in the forest with you." I frowned.
"This assumption people keep voicing, that I spent my entire time in Ithilien sleeping with the Rangers gets tiresome after a while, Mistress." She blushed, shame-faced.
"I would imagine that it does. And we have shield maidens among our folk who do not do that sort of thing. But I would like to know if he can give me his heart wholly." I sighed. In truth, I had rather expected an interrogation of this sort at some point. But it would have been nice to have been wrong.
"Very well then, Delyth. I swear by my House and by my father's sword that what I tell you now is the truth." Her eyes widened at the seriousness of the oath. "The Rangers found me when I was seventeen. They fished me out of the Anduin. A scouting party of orcs had killed my family. They spared me and took me along on their return trip for.....entertainment, if you know what I mean." She nodded soberly.
"We heard of such things happening to our kin in the Eastfold."
"Indeed. When the Rangers found me, I was nearly dead. Captain Faramir gave me into Mablung's keeping, for he was the one who did the majority of the leechwork among the Rangers. I will not lie to you--during the time in which he nursed me back to health, he did have his hands on me in places only a lover would ordinarily touch--the nature of my injuries made that necessary." She started to speak, but I cut her off with a sharp gesture.
"But after I had healed, and those attentions were no longer necessary, he never touched me in that way again. Neither lip nor hand did he ever lay upon me in lechery. He taught me to be a good Ranger, and saved my life more than once. He has been like unto a brother to me, or even a father, and he is one of the three men in Gondor I respect most after the King. The other two are Princes. I consider him kin, and if you wed him, you may call upon me as such, you and the children you will have with him. And if you ever harm or dishonor him, you will answer to me! Does that satisfy you?" She regarded me gravely for a moment, then a smile lit her face, and rather to my surprise, she embraced me.
"Aye, it more than satisfies, Lady Hethlin! Sorry I am if I made you cross with my question! Will you forgive me?" I narrowed my eyes at her.
"Under one condition." At her quizzical look, I explained. "You had better make him happy!" She chuckled, a rather unique, gurgling sound.
"I will try my best to do so!" And at that, we went back upstairs to eat dessert as friends--albeit new and tentative ones. Dessert was my oranges, Lorend's cheese, which turned out to be very fine indeed, and Elrith's tasty nut bread. After that, Delyth's brothers seemed eager to do a bit of gaming with the Rangers, and Melyanna seemed content to wordlessly admire Elrith's spinning and embroidery, but I pled the weariness of recent illness, thanked my host and hostess and returned to the Citadel. There, I dressed for bed, laid me down and spent some time reflecting upon how all of the Rangers of my acquaintance, like the Prince's Swan Knights, seemed to be set upon getting themselves married as swiftly as possible--with the exception of Lorend, of course. There was no doubt that both Mablung and Anborn were deeply attached to the women they had chosen. I liked Delyth very well, and could hardly find fault with Melyanna--I still didn't know anything about her!
Not so long ago, I had wanted to cleave unto Faramir in that way--indeed, I still did, though I had repressed it so forcibly that it did not trouble me very often any more. And even wanting him as I had, there had been no clear idea on my part about what being married to someone really meant. Thinking back upon the uncomprehending observations of my mother and father I had made as a child, it seemed to the adult eye that they had shared everything that came to them, and were very much in love. And from what Prince Imrahil had said, he had enjoyed the same sort of special relationship with his wife as well. But I also knew that being bound forever to the wrong person would be the worst sort of torment, and that it did happen to people.
Once I had told Prince Imrahil what I would have expected of the person that I loved. And I knew now that I expected marriage to be something more than a convenient material compact, or even an easy, friendly, comfortable relationship entered into because of mutual need. I wanted it all, despite the risks--I wanted the grand passion. I hadn't a clue as to how I was going to get it, but that was what I wanted. It was perhaps just as well that I was, as my grandfather had noted, rather young yet.