The next morning, luck was in their favor right again. For the first time since the birth, Arwen was doing so well again that Aragorn and Ioreth could her allow leaving the chambers for a short walk with a good conscience. She was still a long way from being able to take part in battles or even only the daily government duties; but holding on to Aragorn's arm for these few minutes, she had no problem, getting to Tarisilya's and Legolas' rooms. And that she finally wanted to thank the other she-elf for her support personally, served as a useful excuse for this first stay outside happening in this place.

That another elf of Cair Andros had reached the city under the protection of the night and had gone to the guesthouses immediately as well, and that both Arwen's handmaiden and Langhour weren't just coming along to carry the children which the Queen couldn't do herself yet … None of that would hopefully seem strange to a random watcher. They couldn't afford any mistakes right now.

But before Tarisilya would inform the others why she had called them all to the richly, well-laid table in the living room, she signaled Arwen and Aragorn to help themselves plenty. After all, the stomachs of these two had been empty since last night. "Please, eat. And drink enough, first and foremost. Especially you, Arwen. Legolas has personally got the water from the well outside earlier, and all of the food comes from supplies at Cair Andros, so please don't be afraid."

"And there's more where that came from," Legolas added with a brief nod at the corner behind the door where there were two boxes and several bags stacked. "Camhanar packed as much as his horse could carry. The others will bring even more in the afternoon. You two should not touch anything that might at any point have gone through Hithrim's hands or through the hands of one of his allies for a while. The same goes for Ilya, Lady Éowyn, and me."

Aragorn nodded and reached for a first mug of water, his hands clearly trembling, probably mainly to clear his throat. He surely didn't feel any more like eating than Arwen did, and unlike her, he deliberately ignored Tarisilya's gesture at the bread, sausages, spread, and fruit. There were other priorities. According to Legolas, he hadn't completely understood yet why Tarisilya had asked that they would not act on their new insights right away. But by now, he trusted that she knew what she was doing, given she wasn't just busy riding off in a soldier's far too large armor to save her husband from wargs.

"I still can't quite believe this. The man always seemed so harmless."

Someone spoke up that probably no one had expected to, given how reserved Ranír was usually acting when she wasn't alone with the Queen. But in this case, the young woman was one of the few persons who had something to say about this matter, because among all the people in this small insider circle, she probably knew most about the employee dynamics in the Citadel alone. That was why she was here.

"He's not had himself that well under control anymore lately." Ranír blushed immediately when everyone looked at her though. Tarisilya didn't miss her eyes wandering to Langhour as she was seeking purchase, who agreed with her estimation in brief words.

So Langhour had already met that guy, too. And apparently, he'd just remembered something else that momentarily threw him off balance so badly that he slapped my fist hard on the table, an unusual loss of control for a Dúnadan. "This boy, Ryscfin. He's tried to tell me last time I was in the prison and Hithrim joined us. He was too afraid of the Stewardaides to say it openly, but he asked me to send Her Majesty Arwen his regards and tell her all about this visit. At the time, I didn't want to burden you with memories of the kidnapping, Lady Arwen. You were doing badly enough. I take full responsibility for my neglect."

"Don't fret. How were you supposed to know the meaning of his words?" Ranír tried to cheer her companion up with a cautious smile.

The two of them were sitting a lot closer to each other than it was actually beseeming, even with regard to the limited space at the small wooden table. Tarisilya didn't think, they even realized how in furtive moments, they were eying each other yearningly from the corners of their eyes. Langhour would definitely have denied it, too, that he had only straightened his tunic and his conspicuously clean cloak so neatly for a certain pair of dark eyes; just like it was surely only by chance that Ranír had put on an especially tight dress. At least a small bright spot this morning.

"But it is true. When we were with him in the prison, Hithrim was acting really weird. And he's always talked differently to the royals than to the people in the streets. To me, it never felt as if he liked you two very much. But this, I would never have thought him capable of. Why is he doing that?"

"Yesterday, he was acting strange, too," Legolas reminded Arwen, thoughtfully nibbling on a carrot. "Maybe he's lost someone after all and somehow connects that to Aragorn, and it's just that no one knows."

"Even if that was true, it doesn't justify anything. Everyone in this room, everyone out there in the streets has lost relatives." After the last months full of only barely prevented riots and attacks not always prevented Aragorn didn't want to philosophize about reasons and explanations anymore.

"The guy belongs in prison. Ilya, why are we having a tea party here? Every second that Hithrim is on the loose endangers men in the Citadel further. Even if he won't use a weapon at some point, and when it comes to these madmen, I wouldn't count on that … Everyone using the supplies and food from the pantries is in danger! How do you think we can have a celebration with twice as many people here as usual? Actually, we'd have to destroy everything edible immediately …" But that already came with a lot less determination. Aragorn knew exactly that they couldn't afford any food waste lightly.

"In the middle of winter, mîl nín?" Arwen's bright voice was still sounding quieter than usual. So shortly after the birth, she even seemed unable to find a comfortable position on the soft armchair that Legolas had pulled up for her. The fine metallic smell of after-bleedings alone let the other elves know that they were asking far more of the Queen than they should right now.

Therefore, they should at least try to keep the debate as short as possible.

"What you should destroy is everything in the pantries that was explicitly meant only for you two. It would be best if Ranír put all these things in a box that you throw in a big fire in the court, Aragorn. Then no one will realize," Legolas suggested. "You could burn clothes and utensils used for Arwen's healing and the birth together with it so that you two can leave this time behind. But I'm sure the other supplies are alright. Hithrim has to have friends here. We should also not indulge in the hope that he's the last of them. And these people, too, have to eat. If Hithrim does really care so much about others, he wouldn't risk an attack on everyone. But I do agree that he cannot enter any of our chambers anymore. It would be best if you impose a general ban on everyone but your handmaidens. After recent events, no one will think that strange."

"That's not enough though," Aragorn flared up again. "The guy can bring some poisoned food into our rooms again anytime! He's in control of all the suppliers, you know!"

"Which is exactly why all of you will only eat what comes from Ithilien from now on," Camhanar explained calmly. The restless night was showing in his slightly stringy black hair, his shabby, mud-stained tunic, but his eyes were wide awake. And filled with determination. "Prince Faramir and I will make sure together that there's a gapless supply chain. The only people being part of it will be those we know not to have any business with these bastards."

Tarisilya didn't miss Aragorn closing his eyes for a hardly noticeable moment, or how Legolas clearly tensed, too. That the waves had calmed for the most part didn't mean, everything that had happened in the Stewardaides Crisis was forgiven and forgotten. For the King, it would be a big – and maybe also a compulsory – act of faith, putting the fate of his little family into the hands of beings who had disappointed him so much. Still, he nodded without hesitation.

"As soon as you're alone, burn whatever they bring you from the palace kitchen for the moment," Camhanar continued with satisfaction. "Save only small samples that we'll examine to find an antidote if Hithrim should really try it that way again."

He looked Tarisilya's way for a moment. In such a short time, the elves in the settlement had already thought further than her. "With you and Tauriel, we have two of the most capable healers of Middle-earth in Gondor. You can make sure that damn book will hopefully bring no one into danger anymore."

"All of that sounds manageable, but why make that effort?" Aragorn asked once more, uneasily looking at his children again and again who were sleeping peacefully on Tarisilya's and Legolas' bed. As long as Arwen was breastfeeding them, food was no danger at least for the two of them. Still, it was a thorn in the King's eye not to act. "Why don't we get him?"

"Ilya is the only one ever reading his name in relation to the Stewardaides," Legolas reminded his friend of what he'd already told him last night. "Some may not believe her. Elf hate could arise again if he denies everything."

"But that's not all this is about." Tarisilya put aside her almost untouched buttered bread and straightened up a little. She had never been less hungry in her life. She was feeling nauseous all the time anyway, was feeling at least as miserable as Arwen. Sitting on this chair alone was torture for her back and her lower belly. She would be happy to be able to lay back down soon, but first, Aragorn had to understand.

"If we're being smart now, we can finally track down the rest of these bastards."

Langhour cleared his throat for a moment. Between all of them, he'd helped himself the most. Just like Aragorn had used to be, he was familiar with a life that had you always make the best of every chance to take something proper in, because it might not come again that quickly. But now he pushed his plate aside, too.

"I'm getting an idea why I was asked to join this meeting."

"In case Aragorn agrees to this plan, you would be the sword if it should come to a fight, yes. But I'm afraid, by now, your face is being too well-known, both in the city and as the Stewardaides hunter, for you to spy on people. We need someone inconspicuous for that."

Tarisilya turned her eyes to Ranír again, knowing better than to look at Arwen when she did, counting to five soundlessly.

"Completely out of the question."

"Your Majesty …"

"No!" Arwen didn't even let Ranír speak who, interestingly enough, didn't sound reluctant at all. "We do not bring another civilian into danger because of our problems. Especially not if we could just arrest the man responsible!"

"And what happens then?" Aragorn quietly asked who seemed to have understood now as well how complicated the situation was. "Are we supposed to keep on living in fear? What if Hithrims successor will be one of them too? How are we ever supposed to sleep calmly before we fill the security gaps these buildings have? Are we supposed to fear for our children whenever they step outside the door all our lives?"

Imagining having to spend decades to come in exactly this reclusiveness that had already burdened her so much before the birth, had Arwen tremble. Clueless, she covered her face with her hands. "I can't do this, mîl nín … I can't knowingly send someone into danger who can't defend herself …"

"I don't like the thought either." Aragorn caressed the back of her hand, audibly grinding his teeth. "But I like the alternative even less. And Ilya is right: It is possible people won't believe her, especially because she only just remembered. That would make the situation even more dangerous, and the Stewardaides would be hiding even better. There are not many people I trust as much as Langhour. He will protect Ranír with his life."

Only when Arwen nodded hesitatingly and Langhour who was visibly yearning to start this whole thing already, impatiently wiped every objection aside, Aragorn turned to the person most concerned by this.

"But this is your decision. No one would blame you if you say no. You've never done anything like this before, and being close to these people will surely not be easy for you, even if you have no direct contact with them. If you have doubts …"

"Doubts? I'm scared to death." Ranír let out a harsh laugh, a sound that Tarisilya had never heard from the young woman before. "But I'll do it anyway."

"Why?" Arwen asked, still choked up.

"Because this is something that I can do. This time, I don't have to pretend to be you to draw the Stewardaides' eyes to me. And you don't force me to carry a sword that I would never be able to wield either. Walking the streets and listening to what is going on is just what I'm doing in the Citadel. I can also follow Hithrim inconspicuously; outside this ring, no one pays attention to me anyway. And I've seen what Langhour is capable of. I trust him." This time, you really couldn't ignore the fond sparkle in her eyes accompanying the shy smile towards the rough Dúnadan anymore.

"But first and foremost, milady, you have become the family that the war once stole from me." Ranír took a deep breath and straightened up visibly. The last aura of grief that the young woman had always radiated, was replaced by determination. "I don't want to have to watch my family die again."

"And we might never get such a perfect opportunity to finally crush this circle again," Tarisilya invalidated any further objection at last.

That made it a done deal.


In spite of the crucial decision, normalcy returned to the Citadel. Before the day was over, Aragorn had instructed Langhour and Ranír in detail about their job, and they'd sworn to do their best.

Ranír and he also organized the suggested winter fire on the very same evening, and Arwen couldn't deny that big relief flooded her when through her window, she could watch the small packages of food burst into flames that Hithrim had possibly had his dirty hand on.

Tarisilya informed Thondrar, whom she hadn't wanted to be there on top of everyone else in the morning, making him one of the few other insiders. Her bodyguard left no doubt that he would have an even closer eye on her now and would not return to Cair Andros at least until the birth of her baby.

Regarding Faramir, Aragorn convinced himself personally that both the safety of his Steward's family and of the elves in the Citadel would indeed be guaranteed. And that in spite of all cautious trust in Hithrim's love for people that were not the King or the King's company, it would mostly be food from Cair Andros that would be served at the celebration in a few days.

Besides, they decided on a time limit together, to not possibly court a too-high risk after all. If they wouldn't have found out anything substantial in two weeks, until the day after said celebration, they would take Hithrim into custody, after all, missed opportunity to make even more prisoners be damned.

Though the tension was high, with knowing an assassin in her immediate proximity … Technically, that hadn't been any different until now, either. And this time, they had at least the chance to prevent further catastrophe early enough. Arwen arduously urged herself to remain calm, to keep the patience that she'd acquired over the millennia, and turned her attention to her family even more mindfully.

Lives started to happen within normal parameters again. In fact, Aragorn and she now even enjoyed their food with a little less nervousness than before, and instead with more fondness.

Not even Aragorn who had grown up with the Firstborn had expected the miracles that the elves' thorough landscaping and gardening skills – that they had already taught the Steward's workers a little, too – had worked in Ithilien in the last few months. There were plants now growing there that hadn't existed in Gondor for centuries, and the soil was more fertile than ever.

The fruits of this area tasted accordingly delicious. During the following meals, they quickly decided to ask Legolas to have his people travel through the rest of the realm just like through Rohan in the spring, so that they could do the same there. Better supplied than just a few weeks ago, Aragorn and Arwen soon had much more energy which helped him with his work and her with her recovery, and they were sleeping a lot better.

Only the dark circles under their eyes that they saw in the mirror in the morning revealed how often they were being torn from this restful sleep because one of the children needed something. Separate bedrooms was something, Aragorn and Arwen did long own only as a formality. The fear of having to leave the children out of their sight longer than necessary haunted them too much. Therefore, they were both startled up at every smallest crying, of course. They were still far from a really harmonic family life.

They couldn't let people notice that, of course, because all of Minas Tirith was already in a frenzy over the upcoming celebration. That feast was something very special as Aragorn had insisted on people from all levels being invited alone, from all classes of population. It would be a diverse crowd gathering in the Citadel's celebration hall to honor the King's offspring together.

And people out in the streets wanted to celebrate with them. So much turmoil had last happened at Aragorn's and Arwen's wedding. The whole city, houses, windows, even the gardens, and the city walls were being decorated for the occasion. For all those who hadn't received one of the popular invitation parchments from the Citadel, the biggest inn would offer space for dance and music for three days nonstop. Aragorn had been showered with requests and wishes for days. His advisors in particular went head over heels with proposals and especially warnings concerning the safety on said day.

No matter how difficult this period right after birth was for Arwen, she almost had to be glad that she was being quite ignored at these preparations because of her still battered condition. She spent her time almost exclusively with the children and waited impatiently for her husband so that she could tell him about the twins' progress in the evening.

She was only being visited by Legolas every now and then, or she went to see Tarisilya with her babies, to put another small smile on the other she-elf's more and more exhausted and lethargic looking face. The tailor who was creating a dress for the celebration for her, and Ranír's substitute were often with her as well. Mostly, she just enjoyed completely being there for her babies. There was no doubt, she would soon miss that time.

When the celebration was only days away, Arwen finally felt ready to leave the Citadel for more than a walk in the garden or to Tarisilya's chambers for the first time in a long while. That suited her just fine as the tailor had asked for a chance to hold the last fitting of her dress in his shop where he had more utensils at hand.

Together with the children that she could take with her thanks to the help of her wet nurse and her usual armed protectors, she sauntered to said small building at the edge of the seventh level with Fain by her side, smiling embarrassedly and nodding at people who beamed at her again and again, shouting how glad they were to see her being back on her feet. But she didn't stop, and she was staying silent to avoid being engaged in conversations. She definitely wasn't feeling well enough for that yet.

At her destination, to her surprise, she met the young woman that she'd painfully missed in the last few days. Ranír had obviously asked for another one of those dresses for her spying activities that Aragorn had already pushed several of on her, so that she would definitely not be recognized by anyone on her inconspicuous rounds through the city.

Given the goal of secrecy, the tailor startled accordingly when the door opened and then sighed a visible breath of relief. "Your Majesty, I'm glad. We'll be done in a minute."

"Don't be hasty. After all, it's very important work you're doing there."

Arwen smiled at Ranír encouragingly, though the whole thing was still breaking her heart a little, then dropped onto the soft visitor chair with a relieved sigh.

"It's been quite cold last night. When I came to our meeting place freezing badly, the first thing Langhour did was drag me over the coals. Therefore, I've asked for a warmer skirt." Ranír promptly blushed deeply. As a simple woman of the people, it was still visibly awkward for her to suddenly have such a big wardrobe at her disposal.

"Well, he's right. After all, it's his job to take care of you. I would be very angry if your wellbeing wasn't his first priority." Arwen saw her handmaiden blushing even deeper immediately, and how she started to fidget with the sleeves of her blouse so nervously that the tailor had to admonish her to stand still.

"Don't worry, Your Majesty. I always have his eyes on me, even when I'm walking a really dark, narrow alley that he couldn't follow me on without attracting attention." The young woman ran a hand through her curls, squeaking when the tailor promptly jabbed her with the needle, a habit that Arwen knew only too well herself from spending countless afternoons in here.

"When the celebration comes …" Ranír paused, probably unsure if it was appropriate to talk to Arwen about this matter.

"… you can celebrate and have fun as much as you like. I told you already, I won't need you that night, and you won't have to work in it either. If you don't know anything by then, this whole plan has probably failed anyway. Don't fret about it."

Admittedly, Arwen was only half listening right now, because she had Eldarion lying on her lap and tickled the little one's cheek with the soft fabric of his favorite cloth. The baby squealed in delight while firmly holding on to one of her fingers.

"He's getting stronger and stronger. One day, you'll definitely be just as muscular as your father." She lovingly touched the tip of the little one's nose and had to laugh when Eldarion tried to suck on her finger a little. "Looks like someone's already hungry again. You are a real little hog. I guess your sister will soon demand her own helping then. If it is alright for you …"

She looked at the tailor questioningly. Maybe she shouldn't have brought the children along after all.

But to her relief, the craftsman just put her off and discreetly turned away a little. Which wouldn't even have been necessary; the only man who knew her body as well as he did was Aragorn; after all, the tailor personally produced everything that had been added to the contents of Arwen's wardrobe ever since she'd moved to Gondor. She'd already started to like the endearing old man with the funny, grey corkscrew curls since he'd once defended her from Éowyn – who had mentally been quite battered back then – before Aragorn's coronation back then; and this friendship had only grown since then.

She waved her wet nurse near so that the woman would hold the baby for a moment and Arwen could free herself from as much of her dress top as was necessary for feeding. She only realized how unusually depressed Ranír was when she had taken her son back who started to drink immediately, interestedly staring at her with his narrow eyes, and her handmaiden still hardly looked her way.

"You look as if Sauron himself was waiting for you at that celebration. You really do like Langhour, don't you? I wish I could tell you something encouraging in that regard. As we all know, my attempt at taming a Dúnadan only succeeded because he ascended to the throne. These days, I only have to watch out when he gets that yearning glance in his eyes when someone talks about traveling. Or just go with him once the children are old enough when he can't resist. Langhour however will only rarely be here; I hope you know that."

"Of course," Ranír answered unusually fiery. "That I'm young and that I haven't seen much of this world doesn't mean, I don't have an idea about anything at all! I know what a relationship like this would be like."

When she realized, she'd just spoken a lot more resolutely with the Queen than it was for her, she immediately tried to lower her voice. "But he doesn't even know that I … well, that I …"

"Oh, he does, believe me. The rest is up to you. You know, even if you know exactly that your partner will be leaving, again and again, it hurts every time. It's easy to say that you can live with it. But that's a decision only you can make. Just keep him company whenever you can. The rest will come if that's what the Valar have in mind."

"I will." Something else was plaguing Ranír but again, she needed several attempts before she dared to say it. "What … do you wear on such occasions anyway?"

"The simple folk visiting us will wear whatever they're usually putting on, just like those who will celebrate in the streets. They won't spend money on new clothes; after the war, there's still too big of a shortage for that. The ladies at the court however will doll up as they always do when they smell opportunity."

Eying her handmaiden from the side for a moment, Arwen narrowed her eyes so that she could see a vague image in her head better. "You would look really wonderful in a festive robe …"

She winked at the tailor who whipped out his measuring tape again immediately.

"Our friend here will create something very special for you. See it as a little gift for doing something right now that you have never been hired for and that not many people would do. No, don't even try. I insist. You're always doing so much for me, and I know that you would work to the end of your strength, just so the children and I are doing well. I want to return the favor."

Ranír took a furtive look around in the room, eying all those dummies that other customers' drafts for the celebration were hanging on. She couldn't deny that she liked the sight of all the glitter and the quills. In secret, she'd surely always dreamed about being allowed to be a court lady at least once. Therefore, it didn't take a lot anymore, to persuade her to give in.