It was about high time to set some things straight, it took two for that though, and in her shyness, Ranír quickly became silent once they were alone. "Will you not be cold if we stay out here any longer, Langhour?"

"I've been through worse than a winter night. If I should get sick, I'll just have to get on your nerves for a while longer so that you can nurse me back to health."

Langhour quickly led Ranír to the haystack before someone could possibly start watching them after all.

Unfortunately, they weren't as lucky as he'd hoped. When Langhour was just working on the lock, cursing that he hadn't asked Aragorn for a key, there were promptly two soldiers sauntering past them close by who only carried on once they'd recognized Ranír.

In spite of the darkness, Langhour could make out the men's unambiguous grin and also that Ranír's shoulders tightened immediately, how she lowered her head.

That was enough. "The Queen's dog ran away. Apparently, it was too loud for him tonight. Someone saw him running in here." He pointed at a gap between the ramshackle boards right next to the door. "Her Majesty is very worried. Her personal handmaiden here is supposed to be looking for the animal, and since I couldn't help but notice how attentive the city guard is today, I rather went with her."

The soldiers had nothing to say about that. They silently turned away and made it a point to watch the surroundings so that such an embarrassing mistake wouldn't happen again.

"That's the second time today for you to save me from malice at the court," Ranír whispered to Langhour when they finally went inside. "How can I ever return the favor?"

"I was just raised well. I can't watch a fair maiden being in distress." Langhour shrugged. "If you live a life like mine, you don't care what people say. You're getting used to being honest, no matter how much you might snub others, or how to twist the truth a little to escape unpleasant situations."

One after another, they climbed the narrow stairs to where the hay was being stored. Ranír looked even more excited now when upon reaching the top first, Langhour reached out his hand to her.

But once he'd lit a simple lantern encased in glass on the wall, she gladly sat down with him, far away from the ladder so that other people possibly visiting this temptingly remote place wouldn't see her, and smoothened her dress. Her other hand insecurely played with her hair.

"Unlike my horse, I won't bite if you put your arm around me."

Langhour waited for the young woman to hesitatingly follow his invitation and gently pressed her closer to him.

Ranír put her head on his shoulder and stared away with dreamy eyes. You could almost watch the evening's pressure melt away from her bit by bit. On her own accord, she put her other arm around him as well.

"So? Will you tell me what you wanted to talk about or are you waiting for some groom to disturb us?"

"Unlikely at this hour, fortunately. I'm just not really sure yet if you want to hear what is on my mind."

"Who knows? It's such a beautiful night; this just has to be your lucky day." Ranír didn't let him spoil her mood now that it was suddenly so good.

"I'm realistic by nature. And I neither want to disappoint you nor be disappointed myself when we find out we anticipated too much."

For a moment, he forgot to talk. Langhour had forgotten how long it had been since he'd been close to a woman. Far too long, given how much this still so harmless closeness managed to disturb his focus, given the thoughts entering his mind just thanks to the subtle scent of Ranír's perfume. You didn't live outside half your life without knowing every plant in detail.

"You put lily of the valley essence on, didn't you? It's one of the first flowers of the year. It always shines even if it's hidden by the snow. Its pretty blossom fits you well."

"So you do know what a woman wants to hear." The additional attention made Ranír feel noticeably comfortable; she was melting more and more.

There was apparently still a certain carefulness towards her own emotions left though, that she wanted out of the way as quickly as possible. "Have you said that to many before me?"

"The thing about the lilies? Of course not; I'm not attracted to men, and most women prefer roses or lavender. You were the first person giving me a hard time, recognizing the flower."

Langhour ducked his head when the playful glistening in Ranír's eyes became a storm. "Oh please. Do I look like I could show up with a new female company every other day? I lack both time and opportunity for that. The only beings around me that I could compliment are a few female hares and a doe passing by in the woods every now and then. If you want to be jealous of those, I can gladly introduce you to them for you to file a complaint."

"You're impossible." Ranír lightly dug her elbow in his ribs. "Why do you always do that?"

"It makes you scrunch your nose so adorably. I won't just give up on that. You'll have to offer me a good alternative." He let himself fall back onto the straw, bracing himself on his elbows.

For a moment, Ranír looked as if she wanted to hit him in the chest next seeing as he was putting himself so demonstratively on display. But then she paused and shyly let her eyes rest on him. "If you're not doing such things usually, then why are you here with me? You'll surely leave again as soon as tomorrow, won't you? Given that we couldn't achieve anything …" Her voice contained disappointment about the imminent goodbye. Wistfulness, too, and yearning, already though they would still have at least a few hours together.

More than that, as far Langhour was concerned. "As long as Elessar doesn't send me on an emergency quest, I can decide when to leave myself. There's no one waiting for someone like me. There's still a lot to do in the North, but nothing is so urgent that it could keep me from staying in the city for a few more days. I'm not the only Dúnadan taking care of things up there. I'm starting to consider staying."

Recently, the thought that there was no one wondering where he was, somehow always stung his heart. His mother had died when he had been just a baby, and he'd only seen his father so rarely that each of these meetings was still very present in his mind. At some point, the man simply hadn't come home anymore, just like so many of their guild. Only an impersonal message had informed Langhour about his death, many months later. This emptiness often hurt.

"You've asked me why. You looked so lost in the celebration hall. I feel exactly the same in such societies when everyone around me is celebrating. Something tells me you're the first person not living a life like me who wouldn't ask why I prefer being alone or having just a few people around me. You just understand. It's rare that I meet someone like you. I like to make the best of such opportunities."

"Maybe we're both rather meant for a withdrawn life. And … I very much like spending time with you, too. You're thinking about the really important things in life. Living at the court can be very shallow, and my job doesn't leave me much time to leave the Citadel. And that is alright, I love working there, but ..." She paused, swallowing thickly. Now she almost had to force herself to look into his eyes. "I feel so different when I'm with you … as if there is more waiting for me out there."

Hesitatingly, she reached out her hand to him but quickly pulled it back when she realized, her stuttering made Langhour slightly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to think me immoral. I never experienced anything like this. Actually, I'd always thought I would be alone all my life. Who would want someone like me? After all, I'm just the Queen's handmaiden."

"Not having any noble blood in your veins doesn't mean you have less worth. Gondor's King is a man whose clothes consisted of more patches than fabric for decades. Who would have expected someone like that to establish the line of Kings new one day and become one of the best leaders Gondor ever had?"

Langhour quickly sat up again. "Whoever it was that told you, you're less important or likable than others was just blind or simply stupid. Even in a shabby dress and with dirt on your face you would still radiate more warmth and dignity than this blond beast in the celebration hall earlier." He just couldn't resist caressing Ranír's cheek with his knuckles for a moment.

Ranír rested her trembling hand on his. "So you would actually court a woman like me though you could have anyone?"

Slowly enough, he let go of her. "I will never court a woman, no matter how much I want to. I'm never staying in one place long enough for something like that. I won't hurt anyone just to have a warm bed when my path leads me home every now and then."

With a loud sigh, he braided a few pieces of straw into a pattern. "Besides: Most people only pay attention to me at all because it's suddenly become a fashion to have a Dúnadan by your side, thanks to our King. Before the war, none of these women or men would have looked twice at a guy with a number of traces of the life in the wilderness on his body higher than these people's jewelry count. But if I lived in Minas Tirith, I would ask the royal couple for an audience every day just to be able to throw a quick glance at you when you're standing in the background."

"Do you really want to deny yourself happiness all your life?" Now there was no way to ignore the tremble in Ranír's voice anymore. "Almost everyone needs love in some shape, don't they? Do you really think I wouldn't know what your life looks like? And yet here I am, wishing for nothing more than you to take my hand. I'd rather wait for you for some time again and again than possibly never find the courage to confide in you."

Langhour had to close his eyes so that he could keep a clear head. "For some time? Ranír, wake up! It could easily happen that I'll be gone for several years at a stretch! My main purpose is to clean up in Arnor. That's not a day's journey that I can make when the yearning for you grows too bad. Do you really want a family that is complete only for a few days every year? Do you want to stand on the Citadel lookout basically every day, wondering where your husband is and if something has maybe happened to him? Do you want to explain to your child why you two are alone, and that it's not because I didn't love them? It took my caretakers a long time to make me understand that."

He ran an agitated hand through his hair, forcing himself to face Ranír's tears. "Of course even I need nearness, but I'll rather bear the loneliness than the knowledge that you're in pain because of me. You deserve someone who is with you when you need them."

"But I don't want anyone else. You can only hurt me by turning me down although you actually like me." Ranír started to get angry. She got up jerkily, putting her hands on her hips.

"I can decide for myself what I want. Stop trying to keep me from that! I would rather enjoy a few days of happiness with you than not even a single one. How sad a life do you think I suffer that I'd be waiting for you all day? I already told you: I live my life more for Her Majesty Arwen and now for her children, too than for myself, and I'm doing it gladly. But having my own happy family, too, at least every now and then, wouldn't destroy me; it would only complete my fate."

Maybe it was this last reason, so very different from all the others he'd heard in the few conversations like that he'd had, that made Langhour stand up as well. He eyed the young woman silently for a while, then he stepped close to her without thinking about it any longer and carefully took her face between his hands. He had to be certain, or his self-reproaches would already eat him up before anything had even happened between them at all.

"Are you really sure, dear?" Before she smiled, he hadn't even really noticed the endearment on his lips. "If you feel even a hint of doubt, I will not get myself into this. I had to see the accusations in people's eyes when I had to leave them behind once too often. With you, I couldn't handle that."

"I learned very early that I'm responsible for everything I do myself. And there were many beloved people I had to let go of forever. With you, I would at least have the hope that you'll always come back through my door, no matter for how long." There was not a single lie in Ranír's eyes.

And whatever it was that she saw in his, it noticeably just encouraged her. She put her hands very lightly on his chest. "So does that mean …?"

Langhour would have been a damn fool, not taking this offer. But he needed certain security. "Marry me, Ranír."

"What?" He could only read the word on her lips; her voice was suddenly completely hoarse. She stared at him as if she was seeing him for the first time, completely blindsided by his sudden change of heart.

He grabbed his forehead for a moment as if he couldn't even understand himself what he was doing there. But his instincts didn't fail him. This was exactly what was necessary to give this rash bond enough substance.

"I told you, I'm not a man who courts. I have no idea when I'll be back in the city. I don't want to leave you, not knowing exactly how things will be between us when we meet again. Seeing as I already cannot give you a stable home, I at least want to make possible for you everything I can. I want to return to my wife and be able to see her without people in the city gossiping about us viciously."

It had to show on his contrite face, with his jaw clenched, how hard it was for him to say the following words. "I need to know that you'll still be there when I come back. Don't get me wrong: I'm not doubting you. It's just that I have already lost someone too often. A marriage would connect us deeper."

Every sentence had Ranír's smile grow wider. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck so that he could feel the small tears of joy running down her cheeks. "When do we start?"

"Better sooner than later, or I'll realize how crazy this actually is." But for a moment, Langhour just enjoyed Ranír's warmth and feeling her body so close to his. Brushing her hair aside a little, he stroked the soft skin of her neck with his fingertips, then backed away to eye her face closely once more.

She was so beautiful ... Her delicate nose, a couple of freckles, her small, sensual mouth …

No longer resisting the urge that had already been occupying his mind for half the evening, Langhour bent down to his betrothed to kiss her. The longing taking over, he started to explore the texture of her soft lips, the tip of his tongue finding its way into her mouth.

Ranír backed away, conspicuously out of breath. This time, it was not embarrassment flushing her cheeks but what was probably the first, entirely new and therefore all the stronger experience of desire. She cautiously touched her lips. "Do you think we can find someone to marry us as soon as today?"

"Probably not in Minas Tirith. Everyone who has the authority is either being busy or will already be too drunk to tell a Hobbit from a Man. And at the end of the ceremony, I'll suddenly be married to a Dwarf. We'll think of something. For now …"

Langhour unfastened the knot of a simple leather cord under his tunic and held out the small wooden locket in a way so that Ranír could make out the eagle's carved shape. "Sadly, I cannot give you the precious jewels that other people prepare when they get betrothed. But maybe this can be at least a little replacement until I'll be able to present you with something that does your beauty justice one day. And I'll definitely come up with rings for us soon, I promise."

"You shouldn't do this though." Ranír made no move to accept the gift. "I'm not with you because I hope for you to give me anything. This is surely important to you, isn't it?"

Langhour walked around her and brushed her curls forward to be able to put the necklace on her. "That's exactly why I want you to have it. I made it on my first journey when I had just grown into a man. It's made of a piece of wood from a tree that grew in front of my family's house. I'm not superstitious but nothing serious has ever happened to me on my quests so far. I want it to take care of you now." Langhour shortened the cord so that the locket lay on Ranír's chest, above her heart, and stared at it wistfully once more. "It looks much prettier on you anyway."

Before they could consider the further proceedings of the night, they both startled and froze suddenly. With her mouth slightly agape, Ranír turned her head aside, tilting it a little.

A hardly audible whisper close by, next to … no, right above them, coming from the haystack's roof, and the group there on their part had fortunately not noticed them. Every romance was forgotten for the moment.

Because it was clearly Hithrim's voice sounding up there. And neither Ranír nor he had heard the man talk with so much contempt during the last few days' observation.

"Stop making such a fuss. Since when do you suddenly have doubts? You were always the one who hated him the most."

Another voice sounded, audibly offended and still very young sounding. One that seemed familiar to Langhour as well. Yes, right, this was one of the soldiers of the Citadel who had apparently played his part particularly well in the last few months. "I still do, you know that damn well. My brother died because of that dirty Ranger, just because he liked a few of Barhit's ideas. I want to see the guy dead as much as you do. But ghosting infants for that? You're going too far."

"Infants." Hithrim only snorted louder.

"Did you even see these brats? Elvish bastards, both of them. Too bad the pointy ears are missing. Would have been a lot easier otherwise, selling to the people why they had to go. If we don't do anything, these are the heirs of the King, whether we like it or not. If we don't kill them as well, offing the King and his whore makes no difference. Then the Firstborn will seize power over this land after they've left us alone in the whole war, is that what you want? Doesn't matter if you don't have the guts. I just want you to make sure, those mugs of water will be in their bedroom tomorrow, and in the chambers of these lying bastards from Cair Andros, while I free the others from their cells. The recipe I've tried this time works so fast that no elvish witch will be able to help this time. Once everyone in the Citadel panics, I'll personally take care of the kids."

"If this doesn't work, we're done," a third voice let out that Langhour vaguely thought to recognize as the one of an innkeeper on the first level.

Ranír and he could indeed make out every single word, thanks to a lack of wind and the short distance but also because they were both breathing only very shallowly now, completely shocked by what they had to hear there.

Once more, they realized the great danger that the King still was in because of these bastards … And that, if they hadn't had the idea for this trip by chance, they might already have lost him and all the others to the complete madness of this administrator in a few hours.

At least Hithrim's friends were apparently still somewhat in their right mind. "The three of us and my wife, we're all that's left. No matter who I was talking to recently, no one could be convinced to start over anymore. They all fell for the slimy words of this Ranger and his elvish friends. If we fail now, there's no one left to save the country from that unworthy tramp, and the Steward will never have the right due to him."

"That's exactly why we have to pull ourselves together now. We are getting so close! We'll meet at dawn, then I'll give you the water. So don't mess this up, you hear me? Come on now. We need to go back before someone realizes we weren't around for this ridiculous bender."

Footsteps, the creaking of the outside ladder, the panting of elderly, ponderous men arduously descending it. Just a few minutes later, it was dead silent around them again.

Langhour wiped his forehead, his hand suddenly dripping with sweat. He was feeling a little nauseous right now … And at the same time, relief flooded him that he'd seldom experienced since the war. Finally, when they had actually had given up already, fortune had favored them after all.

"Come on. I'm afraid, our wedding will have to wait after all."

The shadow of sadness darkening Ranír's face immediately though of course she knew exactly that he was right, had him stop and gently grab her chin. "I'm not someone to give promises easily, Ranír, but if I do, I'm keeping them. You will be my wife as early as tonight, no matter how. I'm being completely serious. Yes?"

"Yes," she replied simply, with the same affectionate trust that she had agreed to his proposal with already. It was the same word that she would hopefully tell him in a few hours again, with exactly the same love-struck expression in her big doe eyes. And that was all Langhour needed to know.


They didn't bother with any companions, it wasn't necessary anymore either. Langhour led Ranír straight back to the celebration hall.

Fortunately, most guests were too buzzed by now to still regard them with disapproving or envious looks though their appearance was quite battered now.

The hall was even fuller than earlier; it was impossible for Langhour to find Aragorn's silhouette again, clad in the silver-blue realm colors today, straightaway.

When the King unexpectedly showed up next to them then, after all, Ranír startled under the arm that Langhour possessively put around her, before Aragorn could even ask.

"Don't!" Without looking at him, she'd realized that Langhour had moved to turn his head and follow her glance and stopped him with a hissed order. Langhour couldn't help but be a little proud of her. In the short time, they'd spent together, she had learned much from him already. "Hithrim, and this innkeeper and his wife, just two tables down from the King's. The soldier is standing on the other side of the room together with a few others. Hithrim is staring at us. He's looking pale."

"There's no way he's heard us but such people often have good instincts."

With a warning glance, Langhour signaled Aragorn to not behave conspicuously or say a revealing word either, especially when he did just have his back to these people.

His old leader had fortunately lost nothing of his quick apprehension, Ranír's mention of that one certain name had already been enough to make him understand.

"We need to be quick now. If they're sensing anything, it's possible they'll flee or start an attack right here … or in the Citadel, as soon as we think ourselves save."

"Yes." Langhour clenched his teeth in irritation. This was exactly the situation he'd actually wanted to avoid.

He'd promised Arwen to never leave her handmaiden out of his sight, especially in such moments … But if he didn't take this tiny risk now that actually even wasn't one because this time, he could judge the situation exactly, that might be deadly for one of the people whose protection he'd actually dedicated himself to.

"Lord Elrond is still with his daughter, isn't he? Good. He would sound the alarm if anything was wrong. Ranír, you have to warn the elves while I'm getting His Majesty out of here. I know."

His hand on Ranír's shoulder tightened its grip when she gasped and nestled closer to him, trembling. "There's no way for us to keep an eye on all four of them in this crowd. One of them could bring our friends into danger while we're still busy trying to prevent that. But as long as all of them are here, nothing can happen to you. Take one of the soldiers outside the door with you and hurry to Legolas' chambers like the wind. For now, don't tell anyone else; that would be too risky."

"The Lord of Cair Andros is here," Ranír remarked, even before Aragorn could, with a pointed glance at the slightly remotely located table at the cross wall of the hall that the elvish visitors had gathered at.

"Which makes it all the more important that Ilya isn't unprotected now," the King reluctantly agreed. "And I can't get out of here before Legolas knows what's going on. You know how fiercely these people hate him. Be careful. On your way there, wake up Thondrar. I haven't seen him all night; he's surely in his chambers. You barricade yourself in the bedroom of the Princess of Eryn Lasgalen and don't come out before we tell you, understood?"

When Langhour pressed a tender kiss to Ranír's temple, she straightened up. The iron determination from that recent meeting in said elven chambers returned to her eyes, an irritated growl escaped her. "That's it! We're finally going to arrest these bastards now. And I want them locked up even longer just for us having to delay our wedding!"

Langhour was pretty sure that he'd just fallen in love all over again. He took only a split second to let his attention falter and give his betrothed a quick kiss, under Aragorn's gaze that was curiously fixed on the locket around Ranír's neck, in spite of the tense situation. And in front of everyone, ignoring amused murmurs from several corners as only a Dúnadan could.

With which he'd probably made them the whole city's top conversation topic at last. "Go."