A/N: Thanks very much to Rosie26 for beta and to all of my online friends who have offered me their support. Thanks also to you, the readers, whose encouraging reviews really brighten my days!


My Dearest Arwen,

I hope that this letter finds you both well and happy. Forgive me for not writing to you sooner, but I have been very occupied here doing the work of two since Faramir had departed for Minas Tirith with Éowyn. Perhaps, my love, you might be able to explain to me the fine detail of why my steward has returned before his month alone with his wife is finished? He has told me only the bare bones of the story of their parting, and I was very saddened to learn that they lost the babe, but is that all that has driven this wedge between them? Is there anything that you can do to convince the good lady that she has done her husband a grave injustice?

I very much fear for Faramir's health as he eats very little and sleeps even less, though amazingly he has already been able to contribute a great deal to our campaign here. He sleeps now as I write this, though I had to add some of the herbs that I use for my sleeping potions to his tea without his knowledge to accomplish even this small victory. He remains as thin as he was when I saw him last, and I hope to be successful in preventing his decline. If Éowyn does not send him proof that she yet loves him soon, I deem that he shall be the first man whom I shall have the displeasure of seeing actually die of a broken heart. I find it extremely difficult to watch him as he suffers in silence, though Ilúvatar knows that the man received much practice at it at the hands of Lord Denethor.

In the midst of all of this toil, I do manage to think of you often. I fervently hope that all of this business with the Southrons shall be concluded rapidly so that I might return home to you as soon as possible. I miss you so, and my soul grows weary from this trouble between Éowyn and Faramir. I anxiously await your reply in hopes that together we might be able to set them to rights again.

I love you,

Estel


Arwen

Though I was loath to share personal correspondence from my husband with anyone, I hoped that his words might have some effect upon Éowyn, who now spent most of her time sitting in the garden behind the steward's residence, staring into nothingness. When I asked what her thoughts were, she either remained silent, or she told me to mind my own business. I thought perhaps if she knew how badly her behavior was affecting her husband, she might be more apt to call him back. So I went to visit her again, hoping this time might be different.

"Éowyn, I have something for you to hear."

"I am too tired, Arwen," she said, her voice edged with bitterness.

"Merely to listen to my husband's words should not tax you too much," I said mildly before reading only the second paragraph of Estel's letter to her. Her eyes were glistening with tears when I had finished but she remained silent. "Do you understand that you are slowly killing your husband?" I asked, hoping to spur her to some action other than her self-loathing and self-pity.

Her mouth worked, but no words escaped until she said, "I do not doubt it, Arwen." Finally she looked at me, and the tears rolled down her cheeks. "But how can I care about his feelings when I feel so dead inside?"

I approached her, intending to sit next to her, but she rose abruptly before I could. "Éowyn . . . "

"I do not care about him now, and I do not know if I ever again shall feel anything for him! I do not know if I can ever feel anything for anyone again!" Despite her weakness, she nearly ran into her house, and I decided not to follow her, lamenting that her words held the sound of truth within them at last. I fervently prayed that their love should not crumble to dust before Éowyn found herself once again.


Lothíriel

It was not until I spied Fram moving through the crowded market that I decided that I might follow him and find Lord Éomer more quickly. I explained to my newfound friends that I had seen someone I recognized and told them I would meet them later at Zaim's home. They nodded agreeably, bidding me a good evening, even offering to carry my purchases home with them so I would not be burdened with them.

When they had gone, I panicked a little, having lost sight of Éomer's bodyguard in the crowd. Searching frantically, I pushed my way through the people until, to my dismay, I found myself face to face with him, or I should say, face to leather-armored chest. I glanced up at the guard, but he did not seem to even notice me as he scanned the crowd for someone or something. I stood to the side long enough to let him pass, and then I stayed close behind him, knowing eventually he must return to Lord Éomer's side.

He wandered a great deal, but I saw no other Rohirrim in the short time we remained at the market. Eventually he seemed to grow tired of his surroundings, and he moved toward the edge of the Fiddler's Green with me only a few paces behind him. He was of a like height with Lord Éomer and his strides were long and purposeful, but I managed to keep him within sight, noting the direction he was traveling in case I lost him again.

Very quickly we came upon the wider road that runs the length of the Cheraint Pharazön. It was then that I lost sight of him again, and I cursed silently, wondering where he had gone. I had just about given up hope of finding him again, when I turned and found his ornate leather breastplate just inches from my face again. But this time when I looked up, Fram was looking down at me, a scowl upon his face. Before I could explain, he had seized my arm and was pulling me along behind him until we were out of the worst of the crowding.

Turning upon me, he demanded to know why I was following him, accusing me of being a thief. I shook my head, trying to make my eyes appear sufficiently innocent beneath his angry appraisal of me. I did not wish to reveal myself to him here in the middle of this place, for to uncover my face in public was not done. Looking quite disgusted with me, he released me and continued on as if I did not exist, but I remained behind him. Every now and then he would glance back toward me but he did not stop or slow or even take any action to lose me.

Only a few moments later, he stepped onto the stone bridge which leads to Lord's Town and then turned as if daring me to come further. I would not be thwarted and came to stand before him, hoping now that he could recognize me by the sight of my eyes alone.

"Are you a harlot?" he asked outright, and I dropped my head from a mixture of amusement and exasperation, before I looked back at him and shook my head silently. "Tell me your name." Again I shook my head, more urgently this time. I stepped closer to him and gave him my sternest glare. His scowl deepened, but then with a suddenness that almost made me laugh, his expression changed to one of shocked recognition, and I thought he might bow to me. Instead he bent closer to me. "My lady," he whispered, "what are you doing in Pelargir? And dressed like that?"

"Please, Fram," I whispered, clutching at his hand, "I must find Lord Éomer."

"I do not know his exact whereabouts though he is in the city. We were separated at the barracks, and he was escorted to the home of the lord of Pelargir."

I nodded. "Lord Holmar would expect him to spend at least one night in his palace."

"That is what we were told, though it seems a strange custom. Where are you staying, my lady?"

"Surprisingly enough I have found some very comfortable rooms in Haradrim Town."

His eyes widened in shock. "Are you safe there amongst that pack of dogs?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes, Fram. I am well-cared for but I need an escort back to Minas Tirith." It was beginning to grow dark, and I didn't want to test the limits of hiding behind my veil while I tried to return to Haradrim town at night. "I must go, but I will be at Fiddler's Green again tomorrow around midday," I said hopefully.

"Then I will send someone for you tomorrow. A pair of Éomer-King's personal guards should be able to return you safely home."

"Actually, I wish for Lord Éomer to personally see me back."

Fram was obviously confused, but he nodded, adding, "I will see if he can be found, my lady. In any case, someone will come to you at the market tomorrow."

"Thank you, Fram. I shall watch for you and your men." Had it not been for the veil I would have kissed him. Instead I squeezed his hand in farewell before I turned and hurried back to Zaim's home as quickly as I could move through the crowded streets.

-ooOoo-

I was somewhat surprised when Zaim met me at the door of his abode. A young boy who looked a great deal like him held his hand and stared at me gravely, and I realized that he was Zaim's son. "How did you enjoy your day, Lady Lothíriel?" he asked as he gestured me inside and then offered me a seat near the fire.

He sent the boy away with a soft word as I answered him. "I had a lovely day, Zaim." I felt uncomfortable beneath his dark gaze suddenly, and I wondered if I had done something to anger my host.

"My wives tell me you met with a friend today in the marketplace. Does this mean you shall be leaving us soon?"

"Though you and your wives have been most gracious to share your home with me, I shall indeed be leaving soon if I can procure an escort. I need to return to Minas Tirith as soon as possible since I have many people worried about me, unfortunately."

Zaim nodded in understanding. "I knew you would leave eventually, but I think my wives shall very much miss you," he told me. "It is long since they have had such an interesting visitor. But I am happy that you have found someone in this city you can trust, a very rare occurrence in Pelargir to be certain. If there is anything more I can do for you, do not hesitate to ask."

I smiled a little behind my veil. "I appreciate your offer, Zaim. You have been so generous, and your wives are very friendly. If ever you are in Dol Amroth, do not hesitate to call at the Prince's Citadel."

He raised an eyebrow. "Dol Amroth," he said, smiling a little. "I have always wondered what the shores near Dol Amroth were like. I have never been closer to that land than where we are sitting now, but I have heard that the landscape there is breathtakingly beautiful."

I shrugged. "I guess I am used to it since I have lived there my entire life, but many come to view the sea from Amroth's great heights and marvel at its vastness. Really I prefer the shops," I giggled.

"Ah, yes, I heard from Aisha that you were quite taken with the market today."

"Yes. I intend to return there tomorrow."

"Again so soon?" he smiled. "I am pleased that you enjoyed yourself so much during your stay with us."

"Thank you, Zaim." I rose, feeling nervous again, glad for the veil that hid my features from this man.

"Oh, please!" he exclaimed, rising quickly and gesturing toward his wives' bedchamber. "You must be tired after your long day, Lothíriel."

"Yes, a little," I admitted. I thanked him once again and moved into the other room, suddenly inexplicably glad to be out of his sight. I very much looked forward to the morrow when I could finally flee Pelargir, hoping never again to return.


Aragorn

"Faramir?"

I questioned him as he swayed slightly when he stood up from the table where we had been poring over scouting reports all evening. I had thought that spending some time in the fresh morning air might do him some good, since he had not expressed much interest in being anywhere but my pavilion since he had arrived. It had taken some doing to force him into the open air, but eventually he agreed to attend me while I read through the endless stream of parchments. Of course, my steward read through them as well, his brow becoming more furrowed as he finished each one. It seemed that he wished to say something to me, but instead he stood abruptly, and I wondered if he might fall over with weariness.

"I am well, Aragorn."

It was an automatic response by then, but I took his word for it, though I continued to watch him carefully. "What are you thinking, my friend?"

He shook his head slowly. "I am thinking that the Haradrim cannot have just disappeared as if they had never existed, but that is what these reports seem to be indicating. I cannot believe that they only attacked the ranger outpost for sport, though that seems a popular opinion based on what my uncle tells me he overhears. Perhaps, the Southrons did it only to draw you out of the city, my lord," he opined, and I caught sight of a flash of anger in his grey eyes.

"If so, they certainly are not being hasty to further their plan."

"No, indeed not," he agreed.

"I am nearly ready to return the bulk of the army to Minas Tirith, leaving enough here to rebuild the outpost and man it more heavily than before. The men are growing restless with idleness. What say you, Faramir?"

"I know not, Aragorn. My thoughts have been muddled of late, but something in my mind tells me that the Haradrim are not through with us yet."

"We have enough supplies to last the army yet another week before I shall have to procure more from Pelargir or Minas Tirith. I shall delay my final decision until then."

"Very good, my lord," he said, and it seemed he wished to speak further, but instead he turned his gaze toward the River Poros.

I hated to interrupt his reverie, but I said, "Speak, friend. What do you require?"

He turned back toward me after a moment. "I wish to return Madach to his rightful home. I wonder if you would allow me some time to do that on the morrow?"

"You need not ask permission, but this time you will take a full platoon of rangers with you. I will not see you harmed again."

Faramir did not argue. He simply bowed, thanking me quietly and returned to the interior of the pavilion to his own devices. I sat awhile longer and contemplated our exchange, eventually sighing and bowing my head in weariness. My steward was right; it was a near certainty that the Haradrim were not through with us. We would continue to remain vigilant until they made their next move.


Éomer

I had spent most of the day wandering from room to room in the steward's palace, taking satisfaction in the various grimaces that crossed the face of the lone guard who had been assigned to accompany me wherever I decided to roam, though Lord Holmar's personal and official rooms were both closed to me. It was the only entertainment I could find in the whole of the vast building though it had occurred to me that it might be amusing to suddenly sprint across the polished marble floors if only to see if the unlucky man could keep up with me in his heavy armor.

"Lord Éomer, it grows late," he finally said. "You shall miss dinner."

I smiled broadly at his petulant reminder. "How thoughtful of you to think about my well-being!" I roared, slapping him upon the back as hard as I dared. I was rewarded with another grimace, though he straightened soon enough and escorted me back to the dining chamber.

Where Lord Holmar and I had been the only diners at the morning meal, tonight there were at least a score of people at the high table, lords and ladies both, eating what appeared to be soup. As I entered, all conversation ceased, but I strode to the table, finding an empty seat near the steward, and I sat down without a word.

"How nice of you to join us at last, Lord Éomer," said the steward, but then after a few soft titters of laughter, the conversation continued. After I had sampled the soup, finding it not to my liking, I looked around at my immediate dining companions. I was seated next to an older woman, dressed in pink, who seemed overwhelmed to be sitting next to the King of the Mark when I introduced myself to her. Her name was Brelwin. Her husband, Menborn of Gondor, who was sitting directly across from her did not seem as impressed. At my left hand was a younger fellow with reddish hair who was very friendly. He introduced himself as Anlong of Lossarnach, and he was by himself.

In the chair across from me sat a fat, bearded man who was more interested in the contents of his bowl than in anything else around him, but between bites he managed to give me his name: Briandon of Linhir, a merchant who dealt in leather and silk. I had assumed that this was a state dinner for the lords of the city, but I quickly found that everyone in my present company was a merchant from somewhere else. Anlong was pleased to give me the details of the unexpected invitation he had received a few weeks ago. Apparently the guests had been invited to Pelargir for a few days in order to discuss trade between the city and the remainder of Gondor.

By the time we had finished our pudding, I was well acquainted with my neighbors and Briandon invited me to join him in a nearby tavern for a tankard of ale. I could not have refused him even if I had wished to since I longed to be out of Abad-en-Arahir even if only for a few hours. Lord Holmar seemed equally relieved to see me away when I invited him along and he refused the invitation. But Anlong came along, and we walked together through the wide avenues, soon arriving at a tavern named the Spouting Whale Inn. Briandon ordered a round of Rohirric ale for us, and we continued our discussion at the bar.

"Forgive me, Éomer-King for assuming you were merely a merchant from Rohan. I was not expecting royalty to attend our dinner," stated Briandon with a smile.

"I was not invited," I admitted with a laugh, "but the Steward of Pelargir's hospitality is difficult to resist." I drank half of my ale and then asked them, "I wonder if you both might help me with something?" Both appeared eager, so I continued. "I would like for you both to create a diversion for me tonight. I intend to learn what underhanded dealings Lord Holmar is participating in."

"Underhanded?" questioned Anlong.

"Aye, I know he is up to something, and as I am close to the King of Gondor and the Steward of Gondor, I thought to reveal his plot to them in order to assure the security of the region."

Briandon chuckled, and his eyes danced merrily as he set down his empty mug. "I could think of no better cause with which to align myself. Besides, apart from the food, these meetings are generally boring. I could use some entertainment."

"What say you, Anlong?" I asked the younger man.

The young man shrugged nervously. "Though this is my first journey into Pelargir, I have heard rumors about the dishonesty of the governors here. But my father warned me to be careful. I do not wish our business to be cast in a poor light because of something foolish I might do."

I admired his honesty and sought to reassure him. "The risk shall be all mine in this pursuit. The only thing I require from you two is a diversion."

"I can do that alone," said Briandon, "though it would be easier with two of us." He looked at Anlong, and as we both waited for the young merchant's final decision, I had three more ales brought to us.

After a few moments of silence, Anlong, with a shrug and a smile, finally agreed to help, and I downed the remainder of my ale before I stood. "I am returning to the palace now. You two stay as late as you wish." I slammed three gold pieces onto the bar. "Drink as much as you like so long as you're sober enough to stagger back to the palace a few hours before first light. Once you reach the corridor where the guestrooms are, make as much noise as you can, and when the guards and servants are busy trying to shoo you into your rooms, I shall disappear from mine."

Briandon grinned at me. "A very good plan, my lord."

"How will you get back into your room when you are finished searching for information?" asked Anlong.

"Never mind that, boy. The guards, Lord Holmar, and I have almost come to an understanding that I will never be where they wish me to be at any given time, so I am not too worried about it so long as I do not miss breakfast!" We all laughed heartily, and then I slipped into the cool night, hoping all this trouble I was going to would not be for nothing.