To the lady Hethlin my greetings—
Misfortune loves a quarrel between friends, my uncle reminds me. We quarreled once before battle and only by chance did we make our peace ere we both fell beneath the Shadow. And since – despite our words last night – I would still call you 'friend', I would not tempt fate a second time, Hethlin.
Shall we meet, my lady, and make our peace again?
Faramir of Ithilien
To Prince Faramir, Steward of Gondor, my greetings in turn.
My lord prince,
I have few claims upon my time at present, save for a luncheon at your uncle's home on the morrow. Since you have many claims upon yours, I leave to you the choice of time and place for our meeting.
Hethlin
To the lady Hethlin, my greetings once again--
My thanks for your willingness to meet with me. If you do not feel that you will already have spent enough time in my family's company for one day, then I would ask that you join me for dinner at my home tomorrow the second hour after sunset.
Faramir of Ithilien
To Prince Faramir, Steward of Gondor, greetings once more--
I shall attend upon you at the place and time you have suggested.
Hethlin
This exchange of notes between myself and Faramir lasted into the early evening. Felith had acquired for me paper and ink, and I spent quite some time composing my brief messages, and writing them as neatly as possible. When all had been arranged, it was suppertime, and I asked her to bring me something to my room, as I was not in the mood for company.
"Will Lord Elrohir be joining you this evening?" she inquired.
"Nay, I think he is having supper with his family tonight. He will return later."
Felith raised her eyebrows at this, but forbore to comment further, other than to say "Well, at least the meal will be over with!"
I chuckled, and decided while waiting for my dinner to spend some time surveying my possessions to see if I had anything else I could barter for the harp. The survey did not take long. I had some very nice things, there was no denying that; several suits of beautiful clothes, my horse and harness, my bow, but everything of value was either a gift, and therefore sacrosanct, or something that had belonged to my family, and also non-negotiable. There was only one exception.
Weighing the Haradrim necklace in my hand, I studied it, wondering if it would suffice to make up the difference. The craftsmanship was much finer than many of the other pieces the Rangers had plundered, and there was quite a weight of gold and ivory in it; more gold, I estimated, than what remained in the soft leather bag Faramir had given me. I thought that it might suffice, but wondered for a while whether I truly wished to give it up. It was plunder, come by honestly, but with it also came memories, some good, some bad, of my time in Ithilien.
I remembered the Mumaks, and the sense of accomplishment I had felt when I killed them. Then I remembered Elrohir's music, and the joy I had felt when he played. Decision made, I slipped the necklace into the bag with the coins. When dinner was done, I put it in my belt pouch, and set out once more for the fourth circle.
**********************************
While on my way to the instrument-maker's shop, it occurred to me that it might be a good idea to get Lorend to do my bargaining for me, for he was clever and wily and might be able to save me some coin. But knowing that he would know I was buying a gift for my lover, and the mischief he could make with that knowledge, made me decide to do my own haggling. Sometimes, the best price is not the most important consideration!
Dusk had fallen, and the stars were beginning to appear when I reached Artisan's Street once more. Many of the shops were still open, taking advantage of the cooler weather of the summer evening, and there were actually more shoppers about than there had been in the heat of the day. I had been fearful of disturbing Master Taleroth's supper, but I found him sitting on the wall outside of his shop, chatting with the whitesmith. He waved in greeting when he looked up and saw me approaching.
"My lady! Have you come for the harp so soon then?"
"I found some....funding, good master. I wish to know if we can make a trade."
"A trade?" He seemed a bit doubtful, but was willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. Bringing out the leather bag, I started to spill its contents forth, but he halted me with an upraised hand. "Not here. Inside. You do not wish to display that much wealth even in this part of the city." I followed him into his shop, and his friend the whitesmith did as well. There, amidst instruments hanging upon walls and sitting upon shelves, their varnish glowing in the lamp-light, he indicated his counter. I opened the bag once more, and spilt the contents forth there.
He swiftly counted the coin, did a mental subtraction in his head between the price he had asked and the coin, then hefted the necklace thoughtfully in his hand.
"'Tis Haradrim work," the whitesmith commented. "How did you come by it, lady?"
"'Twas spoils of war," I explained, "taken from the Haradrim who entered Ithilien. Most of it was sent to the City, but Lord Faramir saved out some pieces for his men, and at the end of the war, he divided them amongst us." At the whitesmith's curious look, I added, "I was one of Lord Faramir's Rangers." He seemed doubtful of my claim, but Master Taleroth suddenly looked me up and down very intently, concentrating particularly upon the sword hanging at my hip, then grinned, as if remembering a good joke.
"There is a story circulating about the City," he said, "a tale of the retreat. 'Tis said that there was a woman among the Rangers, and that she saved Lord Faramir, standing over him when he fell until the knights of Dol Amroth could reach him. I thought it a fantasy, a sort of Gondorian re-telling of the tale of the Lady of the Shield Arm. Now I am not so sure." I flushed under his scrutiny, and he stared at my cheek. I suspected that the scar showed white anytime I blushed. "Is there truth to the tale, lady?"
"Aye, master, there is," is all I said, but he sighed as if in satisfaction.
"I stayed here during the siege, to do what I could to protect my own, though I sent my family away," the harp-maker commented off-handedly. "I remember the retreat, and the Prince bringing Lord Faramir back into the City. I was there, you see, down by the Gate when he did so. Many of us had been on the walls, watching the retreat and the sortie, cheering our soldiers home. There were a couple of soldiers in the livery of the City with the Prince, but they were wearing odd cloaks, a sort of mottled green and brown. I noted them, and wondered at the time if they might be Rangers. The younger one's face was all over blood." My blush deepened, and I stared at my feet for a moment.
"Who is the gentleman you wish to buy the harp for?" he asked gently.
"The Queen's brother."
"One would think that the Queen's brother could afford to buy his own instrument, rather than letting a soldier of Gondor beggar herself to do it for him."
"I wish to make this gift to him!" I protested, looking up at him again. "And I do not beggar myself. I am in service to the Prince of Dol Amroth now, and my needs are met in full. Elrohir saved my life, brought me forth from under the Shadow when I lay ill in the Houses of Healing." Needless to say, I did not go into all the other things Elrohir had done for me......The harp-maker regarded me intently for a long moment.
"Might I confer with my friend here for a moment?" he asked, indicating the whitesmith. I nodded, and stepped outside. There was murmured, unintelligible conversation for a time, then silence fell, and Master Taleroth beckoned me in, then over to the table where the harp now stood. He gestured that I should take it, and when I had done so, took up the necklace, shoved my coins into the pouch and the pouch back towards me, indicated that I should take them and proffered his hand to close the deal.
I frowned. "I do not ask for charity, Master Taleroth."
"And I do not give it," he replied easily. "My friend here has appraised your necklace as being close to the price of the harp. The balance that remains will be more than compensated for by the business I get when the court learns that the Queen's brother plays one of my instruments." When I still did not offer my hand, he smiled and asked, "Will you not let me express my thanks for your efforts to save my home and my Steward in this small way, lady? The difference is truly not that great."
The line between prideful and churlish sometimes being vanishingly small, I finally nodded, thrust out my hand and shook on the deal.
"I hope your gift brings Lord Elrohir many years of enjoyment, lady," he said. I grinned ruefully.
"It is likely to bring him more years of enjoyment than anyone else!" The whitesmith and the harp-maker laughed, and I took my leave of them.
************************************
By the time I returned to the Citadel, full dark had fallen, and when I made my way up to my rooms, I found that Felith or someone else had left the lamp upon the mantle as usual, and that my bed was already occupied. Elrohir's black hair spilled like ink over the white linen, his eyes stared sightlessly upward and his chest rose and fell almost indiscernibly. Seeing him so deeply asleep, I wondered if perhaps his weariness was due to the fact that he had hastened back to Minas Tirith from Ithilien because he had felt my distress the evening of the wedding. Even upon Alagos, however, he would have been hard-pressed to reach the city before dawn as he said he had done. It was more likely that he had indeed simply tired of talking to trees.
I very much wanted to give him his gift, but had not the heart to disturb him, so I placed it carefully in one of the chairs, did off my clothing, and slipped in beside him, spooning up close to his back. He turned over, murmured something inaudible, and threw an arm about me before immediately dropping back into a deep sleep. I closed my eyes and tried to follow suit.
I woke from a dream of rain and falling water in the middle of the night to find my bed empty and music floating about the room. Sitting up, I found Elrohir, clad only in a pair of breeches, perched cross-legged in one of the chairs, the harp in his lap, playing with that look of pleasure once again upon his face. I settled back into the bed, smiling, and simply listened for a while. The rain in my dreams had apparently been inspired by the music he was playing which was rippling and playful, and indeed sounded very much like water falling. I was quite enjoying it when suddenly the music changed, became slower and more hesitant. A look in his direction showed that his demeanor had changed as well, become somehow both intent and distant at the same time.
It took some time to figure out what he was doing, but after he repeated a passage three times, altering it a bit each time, then played it a fourth in combination with another passage, that I realized he was composing a piece of music. I had never heard someone actually creating a song before, and was fascinated. He worked upon it for some minutes more, than sighed and laid the harp aside.
"That was beautiful," I said softly, and he looked towards the bed and smiled.
"It may become so, in time. It has been rattling about in my head for a while now. Unfortunately, I don't know how it will end yet." His hand caressed the arch of the harp.
"This served as something of a key, to let it out. Was it intended for me, or do you have a sudden desire to take music lessons?'
"Music lessons for me would be a waste of time for all concerned!" I snorted. "No, it is a present for you."
He got up and sauntered back over to the bed, sliding in beside me. "I seem to recollect you saying at one time that I had to let you give me things. But I am concerned about what you had to give to get this, for I am sure that it was dearly bought."
"I gave nothing I could not afford and nothing I could not live without," I assured him. "Do you like it? I feared that it was nowhere near as good as an instrument made by your kin." He wrapped his arms about me, drawing me close.
"Mortal Men are capable of creating great works as well, Snowsteel, despite things I may have said earlier to annoy you. For instance, that sword you bear is every bit as good as any Elven-smith could make; possibly even as good as a Dwarven-smith's work, though I wouldn't make boast of that to Master Gimli!"
I chuckled. "You are avoiding my question."
"No, I am expounding upon my answer, which is that the harp suits me perfectly well. I have not seen a cross-stringed harp in many, many years--my folk do not generally make them. Master Taleroth knows his craft--its tone is good, it is well-built and its design is very pleasing to the eye. I had contemplated going back for it myself, if you must know the truth of the matter."
"Truly?"
"Truly." He kissed the end of my nose. "And the fact that you gave it to me will only make me treasure it the more. Though I shall have to hasten to have a case made to protect it during the journey North." I sighed, saddened at the thought of our parting, and he gave me another kiss, this time upon the lips.
"Well, at least I have something to remember you by, and you me as well," I said, and Elrohir nodded thoughtfully, loosening an arm so that he could trace my face softly.
"And 'tis a most fitting gift, Snowsteel. Manwe's realm is the air and all that moves through it--music, arrows, giant feather-dusters and the white-haired women who talk to them. So my gift of the bow to you and yours of the harp to me have a pleasing symmetry."
I cocked an eyebrow. "Is it so important that we be symmetrical?"
"But of course!" he asserted with a twinkle in his eye, as he kissed me again, more deeply.
"Then if we are going to be symmetrical...." said I, as I rolled him suddenly beneath me, "it is my turn to take charge. And while we're on the subject, whose realm does this fall under, anyway?"
"Yavanna's, I think," he said with a straight face, beginning to stroke my back with his feather-soft hands.
"Well! It wouldn't do to slight her, would it?"
"Not in the least," my lover agreed.
*******************************
After an extremely restful night's sleep, I woke very early, and seeing that Elrohir was still resting, decided to go over to the stables at Dol Amroth and see Fortune and the filly. Taking him out for a ride, with her upon a long lead, I found both of them very fresh and rank, and I had to go out of the City completely and let them stretch their legs upon the Pelennor before they would settle. Upon returning, I found the sun higher in the sky than I would have wished, and groomed and put them away as swiftly as possible.
Returning to my rooms, I found Elrohir having recently bathed, but still lounging about in a shirt and breeches, playing his harp once more. So I had a musical accompaniment as I hurriedly bathed and washed my hair, then stalked over to my wardrobe in my robe while it dried and agonized about what to wear to the Prince's lunch.
I finally decided upon the yellow Elven outfit, and received Elrohir's approbation. Felith showed up and sent the brown boots off to be polished while she brushed my hair dry, and polished it with a silk cloth. I couldn't see that it made much difference, but she assured me that all the fine ladies were doing such to put a gloss on their hair. When she had finished, Elrohir asked if she would do his as well. She stammered, turned three shades of red, said it would not be seemly, and promptly left, only returning long enough to bring my boots when they were finished.
"You must stop tormenting Felith, or I shall never be presentable again," I chided him. He just grinned unrepentantly.
"It is not as if she has not seen me entirely unclothed."
"She has, and she is trying to forget that, only you will not let her!" He shook his head.
"Mortal Men and their odd ideas of what is modest," he sighed, with a much put-upon air. He'd spent more than enough time around Men in his life to understand them intimately, and was simply being mischievous, so I sighed and gave up on further argument. Despite his antics and Felith's absence, I was eventually dressed to my satisfaction and ready to depart.
"How will you pass the day today?" I asked Elrohir, and he caressed the harp.
"In the company of my new lady-friend, of course. Do try not to be jealous, buttercup." I laughed, kissed him and left.
************************
The Prince had not named a time, but I was careful to arrive punctually at the noon hour. Ushered into the house by a serving woman, she led me quickly through the various public rooms to the study where I had first spoken to the Prince about the trip to Lorien. As it happened, one section of what I had taken to be window was actually a door out into the garden, which was riotous with color in the late summer sun. Under some trees towards the back wall, a small table was laid with fine linens. Some dishes were set upon it already, and there were only two place settings. My host was nowhere in evidence, but the serving woman indicated that I should seat myself and departed.
I sat down for a moment, but the beauty of the garden was very luring, so I got up, and began to examine the plants closest to the table more carefully. The only gardens I had grown up with were the large one that grew the vegetables we had depended on for food, and a patch in front of our house under the windows, where my mother had transplanted some wild flowers she had especially liked. Certainly, we had had nothing like the magnificence here. The roses in particular were extraordinary, and they smelled wonderful. Bees and butterflies in abundance seemed to share my opinion. I was sniffing a deep red bloom appreciatively, when I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Straightening up and turning about, I saw the Prince coming towards me, handing a sheaf of documents to a man who looked like a clerk, who bowed and departed back into the house.
He was wearing a fine linen shirt, and another of the hobbit style of waistcoat, this one in a wine-red brocade, and black breeches and boots, and looked very comfortable and fine all at once.
"Hethlin! It is good of you to come! I thought you might enjoy eating out here--it's not a picnic exactly, but hopefully it will serve."
"My lord prince." I bowed, then moved to the chair he indicated and seated myself. He seated himself in the other, and I gave him a curious look. He seemed his usual amiable self, no sigh of nervousness or distress, though I thought he looked a little tired. He suffered the examination with good humor, and poured us both glasses of wine from a bottle that sat ready upon the table.
"Your gardens are lovely, my lord."
"I am glad that you like them, Hethlin. I wish I could take some credit, but truthfully, I have nothing to do with it. My gardeners are very knowledgeable and dedicated. I just loaf about, and from time to time suggest that I would like something in particular planted or something moved to a different location. They usually overrule me."
His remarks reminded me of something, and I grimaced. "Oh bother, I forgot!"
"Forgot what?"
"Back before the wedding, when we had just returned to Minas Tirith, I went to my room and found all of the hobbits there. Master Gamgee was caring for the plants on my balcony. I promised him then that I would talk to you about letting him visit your gardens. He has apparently been most eager to do so."
"You have not had much of an opportunity to speak with me about such things," the Prince said soothingly. "There has been so much else going on. But now that you have, I will issue him an invitation forthwith. Goodness, if he wishes to move in here he may for all of me--we owe him so much!"
"So I feel as well. But he is very modest about it."
"And our modest friend may have cuttings from anything he fancies here, or the plants themselves, if he thinks he can keep them alive all the way back to the Shire."
"I am sure he would appreciate that, sir."
"Then the matter is settled. I am glad you brought it to my attention, Hethlin. I shall send a note this very afternoon." Another serving girl, a different one, arrived then, laden with a tray that carried our lunch--a cold roast chicken and other cold meats, fine bread and butter and jam, fruits and salads and cheeses. It was quite an abundance of food.
"Is someone else joining us?" I asked when she had gone. He cocked his eyebrow.
"Why? Do you wish them to? Are you uncomfortable around me now?"
"Of course not, sir! I was just wondering--it's rather a lot of food."
The Prince laughed, and thankfully did not suggest that my appetite was equal to the task. "You don't have to eat all of it! Just whatever you like." And he proceeded to offer me each dish, serving portions onto my plate of the ones I indicated interest in. He then filled his own, but instead of eating right away, merely sat and sipped his wine, though he indicated that I should begin with a gracious gesture. I could not bring myself to eat just yet, though, and toyed with my fork for a moment.
"Is something troubling you, Hethlin?"
I hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, "Are you all right, sir?"
He gave me a reassuring smile. "What do you mean? If you are asking if I am recovered from my recent injury then the answer is yes, I am feeling very much myself now. If you are asking if you ruined my life with your refusal of me the other night, then the answer is no, you did not."
"It was the second question, sir."
"I rather thought so." He pointedly picked up his own fork and addressed himself to his lunch, so I had no choice but to do the same. We ate silently for a little while, then Imrahil laid down his fork, took up his napkin and dabbed his lips.
"The reason I asked you here today was to explain what is going to happen when the King goes to Rohan to escort King Theoden's body home," he said when he had finished. "I spoke with the King this morning, and with your grandfather, and it was agreed that you should travel in the funeral procession, but with the King's retinue rather than mine."
"Is this because of what happened the other night?"
"Partially," he admitted calmly. "But there are other reasons as well. It makes little sense for you to begin training as a Swan Knight if you decide to go North with your grandfather. And as I told you before, Andrahar will be accompanying me. You would not be able to begin your training in earnest until after the journey in any event, when you would be returning to Dol Amroth with several other new esquires. This way, you will be able to spend time with your grandfather, and have the freedom to make a choice as to what you wish to do."
Here he paused and studied his plate for a moment, then lifted his eyes to meet mine once more.
"You should also know that when I spoke to the King, I told him of what had happened between us. It is not my intention to make my interest in you public, for that would be doing you no service, but he needed to know."
It took a moment for that to fully sink in. "You told the King that you had proposed marriage to me? And all the rest of it?"
"Yes. And all the rest of it."
"But why? That must have been very difficult for you."
The Prince sighed. "It was one of the more.....uncomfortable...... interviews of my lifetime, yes. But it truly was necessary, Hethlin. My attraction to you, and my acting upon it, was a lapse upon my part and a failure to ward you as he had charged me to do. He needed to know that I had failed him and that this situation was neither of your making nor your fault. He may tell the Queen, but I think she can be relied upon to hold her tongue. Master Andrahar knows as well, for I have always been unable to keep anything a secret from him, and Faramir, but no one else, including my children. And I have heard nothing bandied about the court in the last day, so I believe we are safe enough there."
"There weren't any courtiers at the wedding to find out. A few of them peeked in early on, but then they fled in terror of the Rangers," I said. The Prince chuckled softly, his expression lightening. My brow creasing, I asked, "You told Faramir as well?"
Imrahil nodded. "He visited me yesterday shortly before lunch, and confronted me about what had happened. I deemed it best to be straightforward. I will say that he was as shocked and surprised as I have ever seen him."
"He sent me a note yesterday afternoon, asking me to dinner at his house tonight." The Prince looked both surprised and pleased.
"Did he? Will you go then?"
"Aye. I owe him too much to refuse."
"Just keep in mind--he owes you a great deal as well."
"I will not forget it, sir." We resumed eating at that point, and there was silence for a time, then he took up the conversation again, deftly easing it onto less personal subjects, some humorous happenings at court that he recounted with his usual verve. Like Elrohir, he was always entertaining, and I fell to pondering what it would be like to sit across the table from him every day, to wake up beside him every morning and lay down beside him every night. To walk these gardens, and the ones at Dol Amroth, which according to him were much larger and more magnificent, as the mistress of all I surveyed. To have more of those scorching kisses whenever I wished......
"Hethlin? Hethlin?" came the amused inquiry. "Am I boring you?"
I stammered a bit, embarrassed at being caught daydreaming. "Oh... no, sir--I was just wondering about something."
"And what was that?"
"What will you do if I go North?" His eyebrows rose.
"Do? Why nothing at all. Nothing for me will change. I will still have my family, and my duties to the King, and to my people." Imrahil's mouth curled up then at the corners in that wry way of his. "Despite the fact that I live in a principality where you cannot turn about without tripping over a minstrel, I have never enjoyed stories about people who pine away for lack of love. I always feel as if they are just looking for an excuse not to get on with their lives." My expression must have shown my doubt, for he continued a bit more forcefully.
"Hethlin, I have survived watching a woman I loved die in a painful and prolonged manner. I am certain that I could survive watching another woman I love find happiness and love in a far-off place."
"And if I decide to come back to Dol Amroth?"
"Then you still will not see very much of me, for if you do stay, I will probably leave Dol Amroth's governance in Elphir's hands, and spend most of my time in Minas Tirith until you have completed your training. There are many things I can do here to aid the King and Faramir until they are both more comfortable in their new roles, and it will be better for you if I am not there."
Frowning, I declared, "I do not like the idea that I am driving you from your home, my lord!"
"I have a home here as well, my lady. And I would have been spending a great deal of time here in any event. You are hardly 'driving me away'! You must decide what is best for you to do without concerning yourself about me, but you must also let me decide how best to manage things for myself." That made rather a lot of sense, so I nodded my agreement. "After my training, what then? Will you come back home then?"
"Yes."
"And then what happens?"
"That depends upon you." He laid down his fork and leaned back in his chair, giving me the piratical look. Remembering the kiss, I promptly started turning pink again, and he chuckled. "I have already spoken my mind to you, Hethlin, and you have spoken yours. Until you tell me that your heart has changed, I am your liege lord only."
I bowed my head in acknowledgment. "Very well, my lord." Imrahil leaned forward once more and cleared his throat. When I looked back up at him, he grinned roguishly.
"If, of course, you should change your mind sometime in the near future, feel free to bring me the news at any hour of the day or night." His eyes were twinkling, and I couldn't help but smile in response.
"Aye, my lord." We addressed ourselves to our lunch again, once more discussing inconsequential matters until the clerkly man returned and declared that the King had summoned the Prince for an afternoon council.
"Would you care to remain, Hethlin, and finish your lunch?" Imrahil asked me. "Or may I escort you back to the Citadel?"
"Oh, I am quite finished, sir. I thank you for a lovely lunch and will return with you if I may."
"Very well then." He rose, came around to my chair and politely escorted me back to the Citadel. As we approached the building, I spied a tall, lean figure leaning against the wall outside, smoke rings rising from a long-stemmed pipe. Several courtiers hovered uneasily at a distance, baking in the sun but unwilling to give up an opportunity to do a service or curry favor. Aragorn was clad in an elegant summer-weight tunic of grey silk, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by the way he'd shoved the sleeves up to the elbow, and opened the collar because of the heat.
"Cousin," he greeted me.
I bowed in return. "Sire."
"My lord prince," he saluted Imrahil, who also bowed.
"Sire. I was just explaining to Lady Hethlin about the journey to Rohan, and her place in your retinue."
Aragorn nodded. "I thank you, Imrahil." He then fastened his intent grey eyes upon me. "Hethlin, you will be escorting my wife. Arwen is looking forward to your company upon the journey."
"It will be good to spend time with her again, my lord." Giving me a piercing once-over from head to toe, he nodded abruptly. I wondered suddenly what the King truly thought about the situation, whether he did hold me blameless as the Prince had claimed. "Very well then," he told me, "I will leave the captain of the Guard to give you the details. You will be reporting to him. I suggest you stop by his office tomorrow." He then turned his attention to Imrahil, staring at him for a long, long moment. Aragorn's gaze was elf-like in that it was difficult to meet when he was being his most commanding, but Mithrellas' descendent proved himself equal to the task, lifting his chin and meeting his liege lord's gaze steadily.
"It is good that you are here, my lord prince," said the King at last. "The Haradrim ambassador is being difficult again, and I need someone to quote desert poetry and platitudes back at him and smooth him over, before I take a blade to him out of pure frustration...." I decided I had been dismissed, and escaped while I still could.
Misfortune loves a quarrel between friends, my uncle reminds me. We quarreled once before battle and only by chance did we make our peace ere we both fell beneath the Shadow. And since – despite our words last night – I would still call you 'friend', I would not tempt fate a second time, Hethlin.
Shall we meet, my lady, and make our peace again?
Faramir of Ithilien
To Prince Faramir, Steward of Gondor, my greetings in turn.
My lord prince,
I have few claims upon my time at present, save for a luncheon at your uncle's home on the morrow. Since you have many claims upon yours, I leave to you the choice of time and place for our meeting.
Hethlin
To the lady Hethlin, my greetings once again--
My thanks for your willingness to meet with me. If you do not feel that you will already have spent enough time in my family's company for one day, then I would ask that you join me for dinner at my home tomorrow the second hour after sunset.
Faramir of Ithilien
To Prince Faramir, Steward of Gondor, greetings once more--
I shall attend upon you at the place and time you have suggested.
Hethlin
This exchange of notes between myself and Faramir lasted into the early evening. Felith had acquired for me paper and ink, and I spent quite some time composing my brief messages, and writing them as neatly as possible. When all had been arranged, it was suppertime, and I asked her to bring me something to my room, as I was not in the mood for company.
"Will Lord Elrohir be joining you this evening?" she inquired.
"Nay, I think he is having supper with his family tonight. He will return later."
Felith raised her eyebrows at this, but forbore to comment further, other than to say "Well, at least the meal will be over with!"
I chuckled, and decided while waiting for my dinner to spend some time surveying my possessions to see if I had anything else I could barter for the harp. The survey did not take long. I had some very nice things, there was no denying that; several suits of beautiful clothes, my horse and harness, my bow, but everything of value was either a gift, and therefore sacrosanct, or something that had belonged to my family, and also non-negotiable. There was only one exception.
Weighing the Haradrim necklace in my hand, I studied it, wondering if it would suffice to make up the difference. The craftsmanship was much finer than many of the other pieces the Rangers had plundered, and there was quite a weight of gold and ivory in it; more gold, I estimated, than what remained in the soft leather bag Faramir had given me. I thought that it might suffice, but wondered for a while whether I truly wished to give it up. It was plunder, come by honestly, but with it also came memories, some good, some bad, of my time in Ithilien.
I remembered the Mumaks, and the sense of accomplishment I had felt when I killed them. Then I remembered Elrohir's music, and the joy I had felt when he played. Decision made, I slipped the necklace into the bag with the coins. When dinner was done, I put it in my belt pouch, and set out once more for the fourth circle.
**********************************
While on my way to the instrument-maker's shop, it occurred to me that it might be a good idea to get Lorend to do my bargaining for me, for he was clever and wily and might be able to save me some coin. But knowing that he would know I was buying a gift for my lover, and the mischief he could make with that knowledge, made me decide to do my own haggling. Sometimes, the best price is not the most important consideration!
Dusk had fallen, and the stars were beginning to appear when I reached Artisan's Street once more. Many of the shops were still open, taking advantage of the cooler weather of the summer evening, and there were actually more shoppers about than there had been in the heat of the day. I had been fearful of disturbing Master Taleroth's supper, but I found him sitting on the wall outside of his shop, chatting with the whitesmith. He waved in greeting when he looked up and saw me approaching.
"My lady! Have you come for the harp so soon then?"
"I found some....funding, good master. I wish to know if we can make a trade."
"A trade?" He seemed a bit doubtful, but was willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. Bringing out the leather bag, I started to spill its contents forth, but he halted me with an upraised hand. "Not here. Inside. You do not wish to display that much wealth even in this part of the city." I followed him into his shop, and his friend the whitesmith did as well. There, amidst instruments hanging upon walls and sitting upon shelves, their varnish glowing in the lamp-light, he indicated his counter. I opened the bag once more, and spilt the contents forth there.
He swiftly counted the coin, did a mental subtraction in his head between the price he had asked and the coin, then hefted the necklace thoughtfully in his hand.
"'Tis Haradrim work," the whitesmith commented. "How did you come by it, lady?"
"'Twas spoils of war," I explained, "taken from the Haradrim who entered Ithilien. Most of it was sent to the City, but Lord Faramir saved out some pieces for his men, and at the end of the war, he divided them amongst us." At the whitesmith's curious look, I added, "I was one of Lord Faramir's Rangers." He seemed doubtful of my claim, but Master Taleroth suddenly looked me up and down very intently, concentrating particularly upon the sword hanging at my hip, then grinned, as if remembering a good joke.
"There is a story circulating about the City," he said, "a tale of the retreat. 'Tis said that there was a woman among the Rangers, and that she saved Lord Faramir, standing over him when he fell until the knights of Dol Amroth could reach him. I thought it a fantasy, a sort of Gondorian re-telling of the tale of the Lady of the Shield Arm. Now I am not so sure." I flushed under his scrutiny, and he stared at my cheek. I suspected that the scar showed white anytime I blushed. "Is there truth to the tale, lady?"
"Aye, master, there is," is all I said, but he sighed as if in satisfaction.
"I stayed here during the siege, to do what I could to protect my own, though I sent my family away," the harp-maker commented off-handedly. "I remember the retreat, and the Prince bringing Lord Faramir back into the City. I was there, you see, down by the Gate when he did so. Many of us had been on the walls, watching the retreat and the sortie, cheering our soldiers home. There were a couple of soldiers in the livery of the City with the Prince, but they were wearing odd cloaks, a sort of mottled green and brown. I noted them, and wondered at the time if they might be Rangers. The younger one's face was all over blood." My blush deepened, and I stared at my feet for a moment.
"Who is the gentleman you wish to buy the harp for?" he asked gently.
"The Queen's brother."
"One would think that the Queen's brother could afford to buy his own instrument, rather than letting a soldier of Gondor beggar herself to do it for him."
"I wish to make this gift to him!" I protested, looking up at him again. "And I do not beggar myself. I am in service to the Prince of Dol Amroth now, and my needs are met in full. Elrohir saved my life, brought me forth from under the Shadow when I lay ill in the Houses of Healing." Needless to say, I did not go into all the other things Elrohir had done for me......The harp-maker regarded me intently for a long moment.
"Might I confer with my friend here for a moment?" he asked, indicating the whitesmith. I nodded, and stepped outside. There was murmured, unintelligible conversation for a time, then silence fell, and Master Taleroth beckoned me in, then over to the table where the harp now stood. He gestured that I should take it, and when I had done so, took up the necklace, shoved my coins into the pouch and the pouch back towards me, indicated that I should take them and proffered his hand to close the deal.
I frowned. "I do not ask for charity, Master Taleroth."
"And I do not give it," he replied easily. "My friend here has appraised your necklace as being close to the price of the harp. The balance that remains will be more than compensated for by the business I get when the court learns that the Queen's brother plays one of my instruments." When I still did not offer my hand, he smiled and asked, "Will you not let me express my thanks for your efforts to save my home and my Steward in this small way, lady? The difference is truly not that great."
The line between prideful and churlish sometimes being vanishingly small, I finally nodded, thrust out my hand and shook on the deal.
"I hope your gift brings Lord Elrohir many years of enjoyment, lady," he said. I grinned ruefully.
"It is likely to bring him more years of enjoyment than anyone else!" The whitesmith and the harp-maker laughed, and I took my leave of them.
************************************
By the time I returned to the Citadel, full dark had fallen, and when I made my way up to my rooms, I found that Felith or someone else had left the lamp upon the mantle as usual, and that my bed was already occupied. Elrohir's black hair spilled like ink over the white linen, his eyes stared sightlessly upward and his chest rose and fell almost indiscernibly. Seeing him so deeply asleep, I wondered if perhaps his weariness was due to the fact that he had hastened back to Minas Tirith from Ithilien because he had felt my distress the evening of the wedding. Even upon Alagos, however, he would have been hard-pressed to reach the city before dawn as he said he had done. It was more likely that he had indeed simply tired of talking to trees.
I very much wanted to give him his gift, but had not the heart to disturb him, so I placed it carefully in one of the chairs, did off my clothing, and slipped in beside him, spooning up close to his back. He turned over, murmured something inaudible, and threw an arm about me before immediately dropping back into a deep sleep. I closed my eyes and tried to follow suit.
I woke from a dream of rain and falling water in the middle of the night to find my bed empty and music floating about the room. Sitting up, I found Elrohir, clad only in a pair of breeches, perched cross-legged in one of the chairs, the harp in his lap, playing with that look of pleasure once again upon his face. I settled back into the bed, smiling, and simply listened for a while. The rain in my dreams had apparently been inspired by the music he was playing which was rippling and playful, and indeed sounded very much like water falling. I was quite enjoying it when suddenly the music changed, became slower and more hesitant. A look in his direction showed that his demeanor had changed as well, become somehow both intent and distant at the same time.
It took some time to figure out what he was doing, but after he repeated a passage three times, altering it a bit each time, then played it a fourth in combination with another passage, that I realized he was composing a piece of music. I had never heard someone actually creating a song before, and was fascinated. He worked upon it for some minutes more, than sighed and laid the harp aside.
"That was beautiful," I said softly, and he looked towards the bed and smiled.
"It may become so, in time. It has been rattling about in my head for a while now. Unfortunately, I don't know how it will end yet." His hand caressed the arch of the harp.
"This served as something of a key, to let it out. Was it intended for me, or do you have a sudden desire to take music lessons?'
"Music lessons for me would be a waste of time for all concerned!" I snorted. "No, it is a present for you."
He got up and sauntered back over to the bed, sliding in beside me. "I seem to recollect you saying at one time that I had to let you give me things. But I am concerned about what you had to give to get this, for I am sure that it was dearly bought."
"I gave nothing I could not afford and nothing I could not live without," I assured him. "Do you like it? I feared that it was nowhere near as good as an instrument made by your kin." He wrapped his arms about me, drawing me close.
"Mortal Men are capable of creating great works as well, Snowsteel, despite things I may have said earlier to annoy you. For instance, that sword you bear is every bit as good as any Elven-smith could make; possibly even as good as a Dwarven-smith's work, though I wouldn't make boast of that to Master Gimli!"
I chuckled. "You are avoiding my question."
"No, I am expounding upon my answer, which is that the harp suits me perfectly well. I have not seen a cross-stringed harp in many, many years--my folk do not generally make them. Master Taleroth knows his craft--its tone is good, it is well-built and its design is very pleasing to the eye. I had contemplated going back for it myself, if you must know the truth of the matter."
"Truly?"
"Truly." He kissed the end of my nose. "And the fact that you gave it to me will only make me treasure it the more. Though I shall have to hasten to have a case made to protect it during the journey North." I sighed, saddened at the thought of our parting, and he gave me another kiss, this time upon the lips.
"Well, at least I have something to remember you by, and you me as well," I said, and Elrohir nodded thoughtfully, loosening an arm so that he could trace my face softly.
"And 'tis a most fitting gift, Snowsteel. Manwe's realm is the air and all that moves through it--music, arrows, giant feather-dusters and the white-haired women who talk to them. So my gift of the bow to you and yours of the harp to me have a pleasing symmetry."
I cocked an eyebrow. "Is it so important that we be symmetrical?"
"But of course!" he asserted with a twinkle in his eye, as he kissed me again, more deeply.
"Then if we are going to be symmetrical...." said I, as I rolled him suddenly beneath me, "it is my turn to take charge. And while we're on the subject, whose realm does this fall under, anyway?"
"Yavanna's, I think," he said with a straight face, beginning to stroke my back with his feather-soft hands.
"Well! It wouldn't do to slight her, would it?"
"Not in the least," my lover agreed.
*******************************
After an extremely restful night's sleep, I woke very early, and seeing that Elrohir was still resting, decided to go over to the stables at Dol Amroth and see Fortune and the filly. Taking him out for a ride, with her upon a long lead, I found both of them very fresh and rank, and I had to go out of the City completely and let them stretch their legs upon the Pelennor before they would settle. Upon returning, I found the sun higher in the sky than I would have wished, and groomed and put them away as swiftly as possible.
Returning to my rooms, I found Elrohir having recently bathed, but still lounging about in a shirt and breeches, playing his harp once more. So I had a musical accompaniment as I hurriedly bathed and washed my hair, then stalked over to my wardrobe in my robe while it dried and agonized about what to wear to the Prince's lunch.
I finally decided upon the yellow Elven outfit, and received Elrohir's approbation. Felith showed up and sent the brown boots off to be polished while she brushed my hair dry, and polished it with a silk cloth. I couldn't see that it made much difference, but she assured me that all the fine ladies were doing such to put a gloss on their hair. When she had finished, Elrohir asked if she would do his as well. She stammered, turned three shades of red, said it would not be seemly, and promptly left, only returning long enough to bring my boots when they were finished.
"You must stop tormenting Felith, or I shall never be presentable again," I chided him. He just grinned unrepentantly.
"It is not as if she has not seen me entirely unclothed."
"She has, and she is trying to forget that, only you will not let her!" He shook his head.
"Mortal Men and their odd ideas of what is modest," he sighed, with a much put-upon air. He'd spent more than enough time around Men in his life to understand them intimately, and was simply being mischievous, so I sighed and gave up on further argument. Despite his antics and Felith's absence, I was eventually dressed to my satisfaction and ready to depart.
"How will you pass the day today?" I asked Elrohir, and he caressed the harp.
"In the company of my new lady-friend, of course. Do try not to be jealous, buttercup." I laughed, kissed him and left.
************************
The Prince had not named a time, but I was careful to arrive punctually at the noon hour. Ushered into the house by a serving woman, she led me quickly through the various public rooms to the study where I had first spoken to the Prince about the trip to Lorien. As it happened, one section of what I had taken to be window was actually a door out into the garden, which was riotous with color in the late summer sun. Under some trees towards the back wall, a small table was laid with fine linens. Some dishes were set upon it already, and there were only two place settings. My host was nowhere in evidence, but the serving woman indicated that I should seat myself and departed.
I sat down for a moment, but the beauty of the garden was very luring, so I got up, and began to examine the plants closest to the table more carefully. The only gardens I had grown up with were the large one that grew the vegetables we had depended on for food, and a patch in front of our house under the windows, where my mother had transplanted some wild flowers she had especially liked. Certainly, we had had nothing like the magnificence here. The roses in particular were extraordinary, and they smelled wonderful. Bees and butterflies in abundance seemed to share my opinion. I was sniffing a deep red bloom appreciatively, when I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Straightening up and turning about, I saw the Prince coming towards me, handing a sheaf of documents to a man who looked like a clerk, who bowed and departed back into the house.
He was wearing a fine linen shirt, and another of the hobbit style of waistcoat, this one in a wine-red brocade, and black breeches and boots, and looked very comfortable and fine all at once.
"Hethlin! It is good of you to come! I thought you might enjoy eating out here--it's not a picnic exactly, but hopefully it will serve."
"My lord prince." I bowed, then moved to the chair he indicated and seated myself. He seated himself in the other, and I gave him a curious look. He seemed his usual amiable self, no sigh of nervousness or distress, though I thought he looked a little tired. He suffered the examination with good humor, and poured us both glasses of wine from a bottle that sat ready upon the table.
"Your gardens are lovely, my lord."
"I am glad that you like them, Hethlin. I wish I could take some credit, but truthfully, I have nothing to do with it. My gardeners are very knowledgeable and dedicated. I just loaf about, and from time to time suggest that I would like something in particular planted or something moved to a different location. They usually overrule me."
His remarks reminded me of something, and I grimaced. "Oh bother, I forgot!"
"Forgot what?"
"Back before the wedding, when we had just returned to Minas Tirith, I went to my room and found all of the hobbits there. Master Gamgee was caring for the plants on my balcony. I promised him then that I would talk to you about letting him visit your gardens. He has apparently been most eager to do so."
"You have not had much of an opportunity to speak with me about such things," the Prince said soothingly. "There has been so much else going on. But now that you have, I will issue him an invitation forthwith. Goodness, if he wishes to move in here he may for all of me--we owe him so much!"
"So I feel as well. But he is very modest about it."
"And our modest friend may have cuttings from anything he fancies here, or the plants themselves, if he thinks he can keep them alive all the way back to the Shire."
"I am sure he would appreciate that, sir."
"Then the matter is settled. I am glad you brought it to my attention, Hethlin. I shall send a note this very afternoon." Another serving girl, a different one, arrived then, laden with a tray that carried our lunch--a cold roast chicken and other cold meats, fine bread and butter and jam, fruits and salads and cheeses. It was quite an abundance of food.
"Is someone else joining us?" I asked when she had gone. He cocked his eyebrow.
"Why? Do you wish them to? Are you uncomfortable around me now?"
"Of course not, sir! I was just wondering--it's rather a lot of food."
The Prince laughed, and thankfully did not suggest that my appetite was equal to the task. "You don't have to eat all of it! Just whatever you like." And he proceeded to offer me each dish, serving portions onto my plate of the ones I indicated interest in. He then filled his own, but instead of eating right away, merely sat and sipped his wine, though he indicated that I should begin with a gracious gesture. I could not bring myself to eat just yet, though, and toyed with my fork for a moment.
"Is something troubling you, Hethlin?"
I hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, "Are you all right, sir?"
He gave me a reassuring smile. "What do you mean? If you are asking if I am recovered from my recent injury then the answer is yes, I am feeling very much myself now. If you are asking if you ruined my life with your refusal of me the other night, then the answer is no, you did not."
"It was the second question, sir."
"I rather thought so." He pointedly picked up his own fork and addressed himself to his lunch, so I had no choice but to do the same. We ate silently for a little while, then Imrahil laid down his fork, took up his napkin and dabbed his lips.
"The reason I asked you here today was to explain what is going to happen when the King goes to Rohan to escort King Theoden's body home," he said when he had finished. "I spoke with the King this morning, and with your grandfather, and it was agreed that you should travel in the funeral procession, but with the King's retinue rather than mine."
"Is this because of what happened the other night?"
"Partially," he admitted calmly. "But there are other reasons as well. It makes little sense for you to begin training as a Swan Knight if you decide to go North with your grandfather. And as I told you before, Andrahar will be accompanying me. You would not be able to begin your training in earnest until after the journey in any event, when you would be returning to Dol Amroth with several other new esquires. This way, you will be able to spend time with your grandfather, and have the freedom to make a choice as to what you wish to do."
Here he paused and studied his plate for a moment, then lifted his eyes to meet mine once more.
"You should also know that when I spoke to the King, I told him of what had happened between us. It is not my intention to make my interest in you public, for that would be doing you no service, but he needed to know."
It took a moment for that to fully sink in. "You told the King that you had proposed marriage to me? And all the rest of it?"
"Yes. And all the rest of it."
"But why? That must have been very difficult for you."
The Prince sighed. "It was one of the more.....uncomfortable...... interviews of my lifetime, yes. But it truly was necessary, Hethlin. My attraction to you, and my acting upon it, was a lapse upon my part and a failure to ward you as he had charged me to do. He needed to know that I had failed him and that this situation was neither of your making nor your fault. He may tell the Queen, but I think she can be relied upon to hold her tongue. Master Andrahar knows as well, for I have always been unable to keep anything a secret from him, and Faramir, but no one else, including my children. And I have heard nothing bandied about the court in the last day, so I believe we are safe enough there."
"There weren't any courtiers at the wedding to find out. A few of them peeked in early on, but then they fled in terror of the Rangers," I said. The Prince chuckled softly, his expression lightening. My brow creasing, I asked, "You told Faramir as well?"
Imrahil nodded. "He visited me yesterday shortly before lunch, and confronted me about what had happened. I deemed it best to be straightforward. I will say that he was as shocked and surprised as I have ever seen him."
"He sent me a note yesterday afternoon, asking me to dinner at his house tonight." The Prince looked both surprised and pleased.
"Did he? Will you go then?"
"Aye. I owe him too much to refuse."
"Just keep in mind--he owes you a great deal as well."
"I will not forget it, sir." We resumed eating at that point, and there was silence for a time, then he took up the conversation again, deftly easing it onto less personal subjects, some humorous happenings at court that he recounted with his usual verve. Like Elrohir, he was always entertaining, and I fell to pondering what it would be like to sit across the table from him every day, to wake up beside him every morning and lay down beside him every night. To walk these gardens, and the ones at Dol Amroth, which according to him were much larger and more magnificent, as the mistress of all I surveyed. To have more of those scorching kisses whenever I wished......
"Hethlin? Hethlin?" came the amused inquiry. "Am I boring you?"
I stammered a bit, embarrassed at being caught daydreaming. "Oh... no, sir--I was just wondering about something."
"And what was that?"
"What will you do if I go North?" His eyebrows rose.
"Do? Why nothing at all. Nothing for me will change. I will still have my family, and my duties to the King, and to my people." Imrahil's mouth curled up then at the corners in that wry way of his. "Despite the fact that I live in a principality where you cannot turn about without tripping over a minstrel, I have never enjoyed stories about people who pine away for lack of love. I always feel as if they are just looking for an excuse not to get on with their lives." My expression must have shown my doubt, for he continued a bit more forcefully.
"Hethlin, I have survived watching a woman I loved die in a painful and prolonged manner. I am certain that I could survive watching another woman I love find happiness and love in a far-off place."
"And if I decide to come back to Dol Amroth?"
"Then you still will not see very much of me, for if you do stay, I will probably leave Dol Amroth's governance in Elphir's hands, and spend most of my time in Minas Tirith until you have completed your training. There are many things I can do here to aid the King and Faramir until they are both more comfortable in their new roles, and it will be better for you if I am not there."
Frowning, I declared, "I do not like the idea that I am driving you from your home, my lord!"
"I have a home here as well, my lady. And I would have been spending a great deal of time here in any event. You are hardly 'driving me away'! You must decide what is best for you to do without concerning yourself about me, but you must also let me decide how best to manage things for myself." That made rather a lot of sense, so I nodded my agreement. "After my training, what then? Will you come back home then?"
"Yes."
"And then what happens?"
"That depends upon you." He laid down his fork and leaned back in his chair, giving me the piratical look. Remembering the kiss, I promptly started turning pink again, and he chuckled. "I have already spoken my mind to you, Hethlin, and you have spoken yours. Until you tell me that your heart has changed, I am your liege lord only."
I bowed my head in acknowledgment. "Very well, my lord." Imrahil leaned forward once more and cleared his throat. When I looked back up at him, he grinned roguishly.
"If, of course, you should change your mind sometime in the near future, feel free to bring me the news at any hour of the day or night." His eyes were twinkling, and I couldn't help but smile in response.
"Aye, my lord." We addressed ourselves to our lunch again, once more discussing inconsequential matters until the clerkly man returned and declared that the King had summoned the Prince for an afternoon council.
"Would you care to remain, Hethlin, and finish your lunch?" Imrahil asked me. "Or may I escort you back to the Citadel?"
"Oh, I am quite finished, sir. I thank you for a lovely lunch and will return with you if I may."
"Very well then." He rose, came around to my chair and politely escorted me back to the Citadel. As we approached the building, I spied a tall, lean figure leaning against the wall outside, smoke rings rising from a long-stemmed pipe. Several courtiers hovered uneasily at a distance, baking in the sun but unwilling to give up an opportunity to do a service or curry favor. Aragorn was clad in an elegant summer-weight tunic of grey silk, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by the way he'd shoved the sleeves up to the elbow, and opened the collar because of the heat.
"Cousin," he greeted me.
I bowed in return. "Sire."
"My lord prince," he saluted Imrahil, who also bowed.
"Sire. I was just explaining to Lady Hethlin about the journey to Rohan, and her place in your retinue."
Aragorn nodded. "I thank you, Imrahil." He then fastened his intent grey eyes upon me. "Hethlin, you will be escorting my wife. Arwen is looking forward to your company upon the journey."
"It will be good to spend time with her again, my lord." Giving me a piercing once-over from head to toe, he nodded abruptly. I wondered suddenly what the King truly thought about the situation, whether he did hold me blameless as the Prince had claimed. "Very well then," he told me, "I will leave the captain of the Guard to give you the details. You will be reporting to him. I suggest you stop by his office tomorrow." He then turned his attention to Imrahil, staring at him for a long, long moment. Aragorn's gaze was elf-like in that it was difficult to meet when he was being his most commanding, but Mithrellas' descendent proved himself equal to the task, lifting his chin and meeting his liege lord's gaze steadily.
"It is good that you are here, my lord prince," said the King at last. "The Haradrim ambassador is being difficult again, and I need someone to quote desert poetry and platitudes back at him and smooth him over, before I take a blade to him out of pure frustration...." I decided I had been dismissed, and escaped while I still could.