A/N: Thanks for bearing with me through this story. It's taking me much longer to post updates than I was hoping, so please hang in there with me!
Lothíriel
It had been a longest ride to Pelargir, and I thought that since I was within sight of civilization, I would rent a room at an inn. I had been unable to change my clothing or bathe during the entire time, sleeping behind piles of brush for the most part, and I know that I looked a total fright as I finally caught sight of the granite walls that rose from the banks at the confluence of the Anduin and the Sirith. I had been to Pelargir several times before, but I always had arrived by ship and in the care of my father, who I was fairly certain would not be present on this particularly foolish occasion. It could be a dangerous city, I had been told more than once, most especially for an unaccompanied young woman, and not for the first time that day, I cursed my own foolishness. But I desperately needed a bath and a decent bed, and I knew that if I could manage to get through the poorer sections of town without being robbed, I would be guaranteed both of those things.
Urging Roäc forth, I passed through the gate, immediately aware of many leering eyes upon me. I tried not to meet anyone's gaze as I quickened my horse's pace, hoping to catch sight of the Cheraint Pharazön, the manmade moat that separated Guardstown, Blackhill, Waggon Hill and the Newport Quarters of town from the Guild Quarter and Lord's Town where I hoped to be safely resting before sunset. But the crowds of underprivileged, wretched people were moving very slowly, and though I witnessed others recklessly driving their horses through the throng without a care for any other, I could not bring myself to do the same. So it was long before I found my way to the wider street which ran the length of the Cheraint Pharazön, the moat that separated the older quarters of the city which surround the harbor, from the newer quarters. Relieved to be finally within sight of my destination, I rode halfway across the stone bridge that led directly into the Guild Quarter, only to be stopped by a guard.
"Where do you think you are going, miss?" he asked me.
"I wish to find a room at an inn in the Guild Quarter, sir."
"And who might you be?" I was unfamiliar with this interrogation of travelers to Pelargir and said so. "No one is allowed into the old city unless they are of noble parentage, by order of the Lord Steward of Pelargir himself," he explained in a bored tone.
"Well, sir," I began, drawing myself higher in the saddle, "it just happens that I am the Princess Lothíriel, daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth."
"Yes, of course, you are," he said. "The dead leaves in your hair and the mud stains upon your torn gown alerted me to your noble birth the moment I saw you." I was surprised by his irreverent tone, especially when he said, "Let me tell you, Miss Lothíriel of Dol Amroth or whoever you think you are, no woman of proper breeding would be stupid enough to travel unaccompanied anywhere in this city. I am quite sure that you are no more than a common trollop who was lucky enough to find a discarded gown in the street somewhere. And as for your horse and tack, it is probably all stolen, and if you do not immediately return from whence you came, I shall have you very quickly arrested for thievery. Now, be gone!"
Never had anyone dared to say such horrible things to me, but I was too shocked by him to be angry. Dumbfounded, I turned Roäc around and moved back to Blackhill, now wondering what I might do for a place to sleep, short of returning to Minas Tirith, which would take another two and a half day ride. It was unthinkable that I might be forced to sleep along the road again.
I absently rode along the road through Blackhill. Had I been paying attention to my surroundings, I would have noticed that I had entered a new part of town where the streets were filled with many people who looked to be from Harad. Too late, I discovered that Roäc had taken me into Haradrim Town, a section of Pelargir that I had been warned about ever entering. Now I was surrounded by people who were speaking Haradraic almost exclusively, and I received the oddest looks from some of them as I am certain they were wondering why someone like me would ever come to this area.
Roäc stopped short, and I was faced with an older, blond man dressed in ranger green who looked as out of place here as I did. Before I could say anything to him, he asked me, "How much?"
"Excuse me? How much what?" I asked, uncertain of what he meant.
"How much coin for an hour with you?"
I gasped at his impudence. "How dare you?" I wailed at him, trying to move away, though he had taken a firm grip upon Roäc's bridle.
"If I give you a gold piece, could I have you for the whole night? I even have my own room."
I was outraged, and had I been in possession of a sizeable stick of wood, I would have brained him. "No, you disgusting man! Let me go!"
"Come now," he continued, growing frustrated with my refusal. "You probably make much less than that most nights! It is not as if I have the pox!"
"The lady said no." The deeply accented male voice that came from behind me was quiet but firm, and the man who had been propositioning me paled somewhat, murmured a quick apology and faded into the crowd more quickly than he had appeared. Turning to look at my rescuer, I found a very tall, muscular man with deeply tanned skin and oddly bright green eyes atop a fine-boned black horse that was the most elegant beast I had ever seen. The man was at least half a head taller than Fara and maybe as old as Daddy, and I murmured my thanks to him, wondering if I might be in even deeper trouble now.
"I hope you shall not judge all men by that one ignorant specimen, my lady."
"No, of course not, sir." He smiled at me then and bade me farewell. Just as he turned and was about to disappear back into the crowd, I called after him. "Excuse me, sir, but I wonder if you would tell me your name so I might thank you properly."
Turning his mount back toward me, his smile reappeared, though less broadly this time. "Some people call me the Desert Lord, and some refer to me by words that I would not speak to you. If you wish, you may call me Zaim Ghazi or just Zaim."
I nodded at him and said, "I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Zaim. My name is Lothíriel. Thank you for your aid. I fear that I am unfamiliar with this part of the city. In fact, I would go so far as to say that I am lost since the city guards would not allow me to enter the Guild Quarter where I have stayed so many times before."
"I am afraid that I cannot help you with that problem, my lady, as I, too, am not allowed there. But if you would allow it, I would be more than happy to share the hospitality of my rooms with you."
"Ah, Zaim, I would not impose upon you, though I thank you for your offer. Besides, I think that it would be most unseemly for me to be seen going to your home with you."
Gesturing about us, he said, "This, Lothíriel, is Haradrim Town, and all who live here know me very well. No one would think less of you were you to accompany me to my residence, for I am a married man and would immediately place you in the keeping of my Aisha when we arrive. She is of a like age with you, I think."
I saw no other remotely safe option open to me and so I nodded in agreement and allowed him to lead me to his residence. Amazingly, where I had been having so much trouble moving Roäc through the crowded streets, people seemed to part before Zaim on his delicately-boned horse. We had not gone far from where we had first met when he halted his beautiful mount and then helped me to dismount from Roäc's back. Immediately, two dark-skinned men dressed in red uniforms that looked almost military in their construction appeared and led the horses away even as four veiled women appeared at the doorway of the three-story building that looked as if it had seen better days. As Zaim approached them, they all knelt until he had passed into the house, and then they rose and followed him. I came behind them all and was completely awed by the interior of the dilapidated building.
Not even in the grandest rooms in Daddy's palace nor in any of the halls in Minas Tirith could have competed with the lush opulence that faced me now. Though the room in which we stood was not particularly large, it was furnished with a large gilded table surrounded by chairs decorated with cushions fashioned from ruby-colored silk brocade edged with a jeweled fringe. The walls were hung from ceiling to floor with beautiful woven tapestries of an intricate pattern, and the floor was covered by a thick carpet of a similar design that must have taken years to weave.
But I was most drawn to the fireplace. The gracefully arched mantle was fashioned from what appeared to be gold-tipped oliphaunt tusks, though they seemed much too short to have actually come from full-grown beasts. One of the veiled women approached the hearth and stirred a pot of something that smelled so good, I might have been able to eat the entire dish if I had been offered it. As it was, Zaim spoke in his own language to one of the women who lived there, and she nodded and took me by the hand, indicating that I should follow her.
"Aisha shall take you to wash up and find some clothing of her own for you to wear while yours is being laundered and repaired. When you have finished bathing, Lothíriel, we shall eat."
I nodded, a bit overwhelmed by all of this, and thanked him before following Aisha through an arched doorway draped with a beaded curtain that rattled as we passed through it. I found myself in what appeared to be a bedchamber, though the beds seemed to be little more than piles of pillows and blankets upon the carpeted floor.
The veiled woman opened a wardrobe and indicated that I should choose something for myself from the clothing there. Everything was lovely, made of a thin flowing silken material in various pastel shades, reminding me much of the Queen of Gondor's extensive wardrobe.
"I cannot choose from so many beautiful things, Aisha," I said to the woman, whose brown eyes sparkled at my obvious state of awe.
"Would you allow me to choose for you then?" she asked in perfect Westron, and I nodded in relief as she reached into the wardrobe, removing several different garments, all in a similar shade of rose before she bade me to follow her into the next room. This tiled room contained a huge sunken tub, such as I had never seen before.
She must have thought my expression amusing when she walked to the opposite side and pulled a small lever that opened a hole in the wall that brought steaming water directly to the tub. She giggled at me as she explained that the water was heated in the kitchen in a large tank, so that a hot bath was available at a moment's notice. When she finished filling the tub, she reached into a crystal bowl set upon a small stand and scattered a generous handful of dried rose petals upon the clear water and then stood by as I disrobed, aiding me when I could not reach a fastener or lace by myself. Then I stepped into the tub, and I sighed in bliss as I gratefully sank up to my neck in the warm, scented water.
"This day has ended much better than I could ever have dreamed," I said as I watched Aisha examine my gown. She looked as confounded by its design as I had felt looking at her clothing. "Your home is lovely," I said.
"Thank you, lady, but it is not my home. It belongs to Zaim Ghazi and his first wife, Hafsah."
"Then you do not live here?"
"Only by their grace and generosity do I remain here."
"Then you are a maid?" I was confused since she was dressed like the other women of the household.
I was surprised when she laughed again. "No, my lady. I am the master's fourth wife." She came nearer to the tub with some rose-scented soap and began to unbraid my untidy hair and wash it.
"His fourth wife?" I had heard tales that many of the wealthier Haradrim men married multiple wives, but four seemed an overwhelming number to me. But it was not for me to judge Aisha's culture, especially when Zaim had generously offered me such luxurious shelter without knowing if he might be repaid for his hospitality, so I remained silent and simply enjoyed the bath and Aisha's attentions until she suggested that I emerge so I could dress and then eat with the rest of the household.
As content as I was soaking in the warm water, I knew I would be happier when I had eaten something hot, since I had eaten little but apples and stale bread during my journey southward. So I stepped from the bath, allowing Aisha to wrap me in thick, absorbent towels before she showed me the proper way to don her clothing, which I was surprised to discover consisted of a pair of silken trousers topped by a matching long-sleeved shift before she unfolded a pile of cloth that she wrapped around me in a certain manner that made the ensemble appear to be a dress when it really was not. Though it was not uncomfortable at all, it was unfamiliar, and I felt very self-conscious wearing it, even when Aisha assured me that the garment was beautiful upon me. Lastly, she braided my hair, and then we returned to the main room where Zaim himself complimented my beauty and offered me a chair next to his at the table.
Aisha herself placed shallow bowls of fragrant stewed meat and grain before all of us along with a plate piled high with pieces of flatbread that my host demonstrated was the utensil used to bring the chunks of meat to one's mouth. It was delicious and I said so, bringing another smile to my host's face.
"I find most Gondorians do not care for the flavor of snake meat. I am happy that you are an exception."
I smiled at Zaim, not wanting to be rude by making a face at the mention of snakes, and asked him a question. "How long have you lived in Pelargir?"
"Only a year or so," he answered without elaborating.
"May I ask why you did not remain in your homeland?"
"Far Harad has become quite dangerous since the dissolution of its alliance with Rhûn and the Black Land. As there was little to keep me there since I left the Haradrim army, I brought my family north to begin a new life. Pelargir offers shelter to even the least of us, and it has been a good home for my family."
I nodded. Though I longed to know more about my host, I did not wish to be rude by prying further into his personal life, so I spoke little else that evening.
Almost immediately following our meal, Zaim retired to his chambers, and I found myself sharing a pile of pillows with Aisha in the women's bedchamber. As tired as I was, I did not mind it, and sank into a restful sleep almost as soon as I laid down.
Imrahil
"Lord Aragorn, I hope this evening finds you well," I said, falling into step beside the king as he strode across the camp away from his pavilion.
"It does, Prince Imrahil," he replied without slowing. "Though I am pleased to see that you did not allow the Steward of Gondor to travel alone, I wonder why it is that you allowed him to travel at all?"
His anger was plain, but I replied calmly. "As I have told you before, he is a man grown, and he does as he pleases. It is not as if I did not try to steer him away from this foolish journey, but Éowyn was firm that she wished not to see him, and he told me that he felt it would be more productive for him to come here and at least work for the good of Gondor while he awaited her to recall him to her side."
"Faramir is not a disobedient dog to be banished when he has displeased his mistress!" he growled before he said, "Forgive me my anger, Imrahil, but your nephew's appearance is very distressing to me. I thought that by now he should be fully healed, strong and happy, and I find it difficult to fathom what has caused Éowyn to drive him away from her at such a dire time."
"The loss of the child set his recovery back no few days indeed, for he was all of those things that you said, save for his arm remaining in a sling, though that disappeared the morning that we departed the White City."
"What details do you know of their separation?"
"Few," I admitted. "No more than what I have said, in truth. I spoke with Éowyn the day before we left. I thought she might relent and ask him back, but she remained steadfast, and she did not even send a message to him before we rode forth. He is utterly heartbroken to find himself suddenly again without a family, no matter how temporary the situation may be."
The king nodded again. "I know that were I to attempt to convince him that to go back to Minas Tirith was the right thing for him to do, he would misconstrue it."
"Aye, he would feel that you have no need of him either." Damn you, Denethor!
"And so," he said as we came to the area where the horses were being kept, "I shall do as he wishes and keep him as busy as his health will allow, but at the earliest moment possible I wish him to return home."
"As do I, my lord."
He found his own mount and the stableboy looked as if perhaps he wondered if he might have tended the king's horse incorrectly somehow when Aragorn asked him to fetch a brush. "Then we are agreed. I shall do all that I can to keep his mind from his predicament since it seems that it is not of his own making. But at the same time, I shall keep him at such tedious tasks that I can devise that he might at least be coaxed to sleep more." The groom returned with the brush, and Aragorn began to run it over his mount's coat. "And if ever you cannot find your nephew, assume that I have drugged him into a stupor to force him into resting."
I was uncertain that I had heard the king correctly. "My lord?"
"As we speak, he is lying insensible in my pavilion, Imrahil. I cannot in good conscience allow his poor condition to continue. He is in need of rest and proper nourishment, and I intend to see that he receives both of these whether he wants them or not."
"Ever has he been neglectful of himself when faced with troubling circumstances, and Boromir often forced him to sleep or eat as well." I rested my hand upon the king's shoulder, and he stopped his work and turned to face me. "I thank you, my lord, for caring about my nephew so much, but do you think it is right to steal his life from him by keeping him constantly drugged?"
Aragorn uncharacteristically did not meet my eye. "It is a temporary solution, I admit." He sighed heavily before he continued. "I promised Boromir that I would watch over his little brother, and I fear that I have made poor work of it so far." Finally he looked at me. "But it is more than the promise I made that drives me to treat Faramir as my own brother. I know of the great turmoil that he suffered because of his father's lack of regard for him. I know of the great pains that he took to keep Gondor safe during the war, the sacrifices that he was forced to make for the sake of his country. He deserves to have no more pain or trouble in his life, and to see him suffering once again makes me exceedingly wroth, though I could not even begin to tell you with whom I am angry exactly."
I nodded. "I understand. I feel the very same way, my lord." As I watched the King of Gondor swiftly brush his mount's coat, I realized that my anger was mostly directed at myself for not being more assertive with my grief-stricken nephew when he had informed me of his daft plan to come again to this place. "How long shall Faramir sleep, my lord?"
"If I dosed him correctly, he should sleep until late tomorrow morning, giving me enough time to plan what next to do for him."
"Boromir could not have taken better care of his little brother, Aragorn. And I know that were he still with us, he would be very grateful to you as well." I placed my hand upon his shoulder. "Come, let us find something to drink and relax for a short while, my lord. I can see that you have been sleeping very little, and now with this added worry, I hope you might take your ease with me even if only for a few minutes."
Aragorn nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Thank you, Imrahil. You are a very wise man."
As we walked toward the tents where the foodstuffs were kept, I wondered just how much weight my being wise actually held when I had been unable to sway Faramir or Éowyn with it.
