As promised, three days after the wedding, in the early morning, Daenir took his leave of Gondor and of his kin. A small band rode to the Rammas Echor, where a final farewell (for the time being, at least) was made just before sunrise. Midsummer had been uncomfortably hot in Gondor, so journeys were fairly limited to early morning or evening. This morning was no exception, and Daeril found herself wishing she had not worn any armor at all, regardless of the fact that she rode as an armed escort of her king.
Daeril dismounted Arraben at the gate, letting her graze as she went to her brother's side. She had to crane her neck to look up at him on his new steed Wanfýr, the stallion was so massive. Her brother looked down at her, a sad smile on his face.
"I hope that we meet again, and soon." Daenir said. "Take care of yourself."
"And you as well." She reached up, grabbing his arm. "Stay safe. Please."
"You know I will," He ruffled her hair before squeezing the stallion forward, going to speak with the King.
Aglaron and Corudan, the brothers, and Hador would be joining Daenir on the journey to Annúminas, and bid Daeril farewell in turn. She was beginning to regret her decision to remain behind, wishing to join her family and friends in the North, but had ultimately been convinced to stay behind by none other than her old captain, Thannor. In the climbing heat of sunrise, they watched their kin ride away, until they were mere specks in the hazy distance.
"It's not too late to catch up to them, you know." Thannor finally spoke.
"Having regrets, now, Thannor?"
"In this heat?" He scoffed, turning his horse back towards the company. "I was talking about you, you look miserable."
"I always look miserable," She muttered, struggling to put a foot in Arraben's stirrup. With a hop up, she clambered into the saddle, really feeling the heat now.
"I think you will like Ithilien," Thannor said. "Even if just for the scenery."
Daeril caught the older ranger winking and smirking.
"Whatever could you mean, dear Thannor?" She squeezed Arraben forward, joining Thannor at the back of the King's company.
"Nothing, nothing. Miss Sneaks-off-to-Osgiliath and thinks no one notices..."
"How did you know?"
"Elrohir saw you coming back and had the decency to tell me and not Daenir. You are welcome." Their two horses got in step next to each-other as the King's escort moved back to the city. "So, who is he?"
"Rocky?"
Thannor rolled his eyes at her.
"I only went to see my horse, I was going to bring him back but he hadn't recovered yet!"
She was beginning to feel very annoyed by Thannor's prying and obvious delusion.
"Ah yes, I suppose you were scanning the crowd at the wedding feast just hoping to see your noble steed appear for a dance."
"I was looking for a way out! I don't know what you are on about, Thannor, but you seem to have concocted some imaginary tryst between me and an unknown man."
"You are clearly in denial." He was still chortling to himself as Daeril rode up ahead of him to escape the silly accusations.
The company rode into the city to the customary gawking of citizens, all trying to get a good glimpse of their king like he was some kind of legendary figure made real. It was too damn hot for how early it was, and many people had come out of their stuffy homes just to catch the slightest breeze that was coming through. By the time they reached the courtyard of the King's Stables, Daeril felt as though she had boiled alive in her leather and mail, and even the horses were covered in a dark sheen of sweat. Handir, the younger of the two stable boys, greeted the King and began taking horses. Daeril walked Arraben to her stall, beginning to un-tack the mare.
"Mi'lady, I can see to her for you." Handir said, clearly winded from running back and forth.
"No, I am fine, Handir."
"The King told me to," He whispered, glancing over his shoulder.
"Ah. Thank you, then." She clasped the boy on his shoulder as she left the stall, going to her King.
Aragorn was brushing down his own horse, much to the chagrin of his guard Malenor, who stood brooding nearby.
"My king, you wished to speak with me?" Daeril gave a hesitant curtsy, ultimately failing and awkwardly saluting instead. Aragorn laughed, tossing a grooming brush to her.
"You are no good at pleasantries."
Daeril started brushing the opposite side of Roheryn, slicking down the sweat spots that had bloomed on the ride back. The stallion sighed, clearly relishing in the attention.
"Prince Imrahil requested I arrange a meeting between you and him. I did not wish to say anything in front of your brother, lest he make decisions without your consent. Are you able to come to the Prince's house this evening?"
Daeril tensed, looking inquisitively at her king. What did he mean the prince wanted to meet with her?
"Yes, of course. Should I be worried?"
"No, no. All is well. The Prince has a proposition for you, but I will let him speak to you of it."
Daeril froze, shooting Aragorn a worried look. He didn't mean what she thought he meant, did he?
"Man ebbenig?"
It took the king a moment of bemusement to realize what she thought he meant, and he laughed at the realization.
"Daeril, the prince is married." He whispered. "Why would you think I would arrange a marriage behind your back?"
"Is that not what kings do?"
Aragorn shook his head, stepping out of the stall. Daeril followed, rubbing Roheryn on his muzzle before leaving.
"I am still me," He put a hand on her shoulder. "Do not think I have changed just because I wear the crown."
Afternoons, if the heat was not too unbearable, the Grey Company had taken to drilling in the shady courtyard behind the soldiers' barracks. It was usually quiet, and not many men of the city were there to gawk at them at that time. This made it far more bearable for Daeril, who after so much time of rest and not using her sword, was now performing quite poorly.
"Naeg!" Daeril yelped, practice sword clattering to the cobblestones, clutching her hand.
"You could have blocked that if you were paying attention!" Thannor quipped from his position on the wall, watching the spar.
"You alright?" Tarador asked.
Daeril nodded, picking up the blade with stinging fingers, and returning to a fighting stance.
"I'll go easy on ye." Tarador joked.
"No need."
Their second bout went better, but Daeril found herself once again distracted. What did Prince Imrahil want? What would she wear? How was she expected to act visiting a Prince in his home?
"Daeril?"
"Hm?"
"You're not paying attention." He lowered his weapon, letting Daeril's weak attack fall. "If this were real I would have killed you when we first started."
"Well, it's not real. I would be better if I used my own sword."
"If you want to use live steel, be my guest," Thannor quipped. "But don't blame me when you lose your fingers."
Daeril placed the waster back in the weapon rack, feeling defeated. Tarador and Lachon began a match, insulting and laughing at each other between hits.
"What's wrong?" Thannor asked, pulling her aside.
"Nothing is wrong," She sighed. "I am just nervous, is all."
"What for?"
"I am to dine with Prince Imrahil this evening. He wishes to speak to me about something."
"You have met the Prince, do you take him as someone to fear? I do not think you have anything to worry about."
"That does nothing to quell my nerves. You know I do not do well with formal affairs."
"Just don't drink as much as you usually do. On a second though, maybe drink more- that usually helps me."
They watched as Lachon got a good hit on Tarador, knocking him to his knees. Daeril grinned as a stream of curses came pouring out of his mouth- it served him right for her still throbbing fingers.
"You should go get cleaned up, then. Maybe you can borrow another dress from Prince Legolas."
Daeril elbowed Thannor in his side, snorting.
"Aye, I will go ask him now."
The guest house the rangers had been moved into was conveniently located by the citadel, and for the first time in a very, very long time Daeril had a real bed and a space of her own. The camp had been broken down the day before, the King deeming it more appropriate to have his kin in the city and available if needed.
One of her worries had been taken care of, as a package sat on the end of her bed, which upon tearing open revealed a suitable dress for the evening. No trains, no fancy sleeves, and a skirt she could walk in without tripping- it would do. There was not much time until she was expected to be at dinner, so she quickly washed the sweat and dirt off best as she could, and smoothed the fly-aways on her tied back hair. She hadn't seen her reflection in a looking glass since Rivendell, so seeing herself in something other than the back of her sword was a bit jarring. She had lost some muscle after the last battle, having been laid up from her wounds and doing nothing but riding and attending ceremonies, and did not like her body so thin and weak looking. A knock on the door startled her out of her self study, and she sprang to the door.
"My lady, the Steward is at the door for you!" A young woman, one of the housekeepers. Daeril did not know her name.
"The Steward?" She hadn't been told anyone was collecting her, let alone Prince Faramir. "Very well then. Do I look decent?"
"Yes, my lady. Well, no, I suppose those boots are not appropriate."
"Oh..." Daeril kicked them off in the room, panicked that she hadn't been given anything else to wear.
"Come, miss, I should have something you can borrow!"
The servants quarters were down by the kitchen, and although Daeril did not go in with the girl she glimpsed the inside and was pleased to see it was much better accommodations then she expected. A moment later the girl emerged with a pair of dark blue slippers that, although they weren't fancy, matched the dress perfectly. Even better, they fit.
"You are a lifesaver!" Daeril exclaimed.
"It is nothing, my lady. Now go, the Steward awaits!"
"Thank you, thank you!" She hurried to the door, stepping out into the low evening sun. Faramir stood as if deep in thought.
"Lord Faramir." She greeted.
"Lady Daeril." He bowed his head.
"I did not know you were escorting me."
"King Elessar thought you may not show up, so he sent me." He laughed. Daeril's heart dropped- he looked exactly like Boromir when he laughed.
They arrived at Imrahil's house, where the guards guided them in immediately. A young woman was the first to greet them, quickly grabbing Faramir in an embrace.
"Welcome, cousin!"
"Good evening, Lothíriel."
Daeril had heard about Lothíriel, the only daughter of Prince Imrahil, but had yet to see the Princess in person. She was dark haired and lovely, and when she turned to her she looked into sparkling grey eyes that nearly matched her own.
"Lady Daeril, finally I meet you!"
"Ni veren an le ngovaned!"
"Mae le'ovannen," The princess smiled warmly. "Come, come- father is in his study, but will be joining us shortly."
Daeril found herself swept into the house by Lothíriel, barely having time to register just how exquisite the home really was. Everything was decorated in blue and silver, and what looked to be real sea shells. She led them out the back into an enclosed garden, which was slightly cooler than the house now that a breeze was blowing through.
"My lord Faramir!" One of the sons of Imrahil, although which one Daeril could not tell, came forward.
"Erchirion!" The two men clasped arms.
"And you must be the Lady Ranger?" Erchirion's smile was just as warm as his sister's. "You look different without armor, I must say."
"This is Daeril, daughter of Rýndir," Faramir announced. "Kinswoman of King Elessar."
"I believe we met on the battlefield," Erchirion said.
"You were the one who told me to run?" Daeril knew she recognized that voice, as if from a long forgotten dream.
"Aye, you looked a bit disoriented. We were right in the thick of it."
"I thank you for pushing me out of the throng, I suppose I would have been crushed to death if I had stayed frozen any longer."
The memory of the Black Gate sent a dark chill through her, and she shivered even in the sunlight. Sensing the change in tone, Lothíriel drew the attention to herself.
"Shall we have some wine while we wait? There's a bottle of Rohirric Red I have been dying to try!"
Prince Imrahil joined the gathering after some time, apologizing profusely for having missed their arrival. Deeming it far too nice out to eat inside, the kitchen help brought the meal out to a table in the garden. Faramir and Daeril sat on either side of the prince, and Daeril answered questions from Imrahil as they dined. She couldn't help but notice that Erchirion was watching her when he thought she wasn't looking, wondering what he could possibly find so interesting. She glanced down quickly to ensure her dress hadn't slipped down too low, finding everything safely covered, before returning her eyes to Imrahil who was telling a story of his eldest son Elphir's stallion escaping in the bowls of the ship during the sail to Osgiliath. Daeril nearly choked on her wine when she realized it had been that very stallion who had caused such injury to her gelding. She felt it improper to mention that fact.
"King Elessar tells me you are quite the horsewoman, Lady Daeril," The prince said. "Perhaps you can talk some sense into Rivornor."
Was that why she was called here today? Why had Aragorn been so secretive about her working with a horse? That couldn't be it.
"I would be happy to meet this stallion," She replied, wanting to add in a joke about stallions and frustration, but not wishing to appear vulgar in such esteemed company.
"Perhaps all he needs is a woman's touch," Erchirion commented.
"Yes, sometimes only a woman can stop a man from behaving impertinently." Lothíriel said dryly.
"Anyway," Imrahil put down his glass of wine. "On to business. As you may know, Eomer King and his Eored will be returning to the city within a few days time to bring Théoden King's body back to his homeland. King Elessar and his court and honored guests will be riding with them, as will all of us of Dol Amroth."
Lothíriel visibly perked up, listening intently.
"Which means Lothíriel will be riding with us. I do not believe we will run into any danger along the road, however I would feel more eased if I know that someone is with her at all times. I have seen your skill in battle and know you are capable with a blade."
Daeril caught on to what he was suggesting. He wanted her to be the Princess's bodyguard.
"However, I do know that you were grievously injured at the Morannon. If you are now willing and able, I would ask that you consider being a traveling companion to my daughter for the time we are in Rohan."
Daeril did not even need time to consider the offer, merely nodding.
"I would be honored, my lord."
"This is welcome news!" Imrahil said with a smile. "You have been to Edoras, have you not?"
"Briefly, my lord. On the way to Dunharrow."
She had not thought about the journey through Dunharrow in some time. Of all the bad memories of the war, that place was on a very high tier.
"Pardon, my Prince, Lord Faramir," One of Imrahil's men, a Swan Knight, had come into the garden. "Riders have come from Osgiliath. King Elessar requests your presence in the Court of the Fountain."
Faramir and the prince stood, and Daeril did not know what to do until Faramir turned to her.
"I suppose you should come as well."
Bidding quick farewells to Lothíriel and Erchirion, the trio left the house, making the short march to the Court of the Fountain. Daeril found herself cringing with every step in the soft slippers she wore. How did ladies walk on the cobblestones on the daily without proper boots?
There were riders mustering in the court, dismounting and letting the stable boys lead them away. Aragorn was speaking to one of them, and laughing. It must not have been anything to worry about if everyone was in good spirits. Prince Imrahil walked towards the king, and Faramir beckoned her to walk with them in his wake.
"Prince Imrahil," The man speaking to Aragorn turned.
"Mablung, it is good to see you. I trust everything is well?"
"Aye, my lord. We have secured all routes leading into Osgiliath and Minas Tirith, and changed out the guard this morning. My men are eager to accompany the delegation to Rohan."
If Mablung was here, Daeril mused, than surely Rocky came with him as promised. It was not the time or place to be asking, but she found herself itching with anticipation in seeing her mount. Aragorn and the Prince excused themselves, leaving Faramir, the Captain of his rangers, and she.
"Mablung, this is Daeril of the Grey Company," Faramir introduced her, not knowing they knew one another already.
"Aye, we have met. In fact, I have something of hers here."
Daeril smiled.
"Unfortunately, he did not wish to walk past the main gate."
"I shall go to him at once," Daeril said. The sun was almost set, and soon it would be dark, but she had waited long enough. She turned to Faramir. "By your leave, my lord?"
"Who are we speaking of?" The Steward looked confused as Daeril walked away. "Mablung, if I catch any admonishment from the King for allowing her to sneak off with one of your men-"
"It is nothing to worry about," Mablung laughed. "I promised the lady her horse, and I delivered."
"So it is you I must worry about?" Faramir grinned. "You should accompany her, it will be dark soon."
Mablung nodded, and made his way to his horse. Daeril had already left the courtyard on foot, but he would catch up to her in no time on horseback. He trotted up to her as she reached the road down to the next level, halting his mare.
"May I offer you a ride, my lady?"
"That's very forward of you, sir." She joked. "I can't tell you how many times I've heard that one."
"Ah. Did it work?"
Daeril rolled her eyes.
"I don't ride double," Said Daeril.
"Don't or won't? It's a long walk, and the hour grows late."
Daeril shrugged, proceeding to hike up her skirt.
"What are you doing?" Mablung looked mortified at her sudden public disrobing. "Oh... do all women wear breeches under their dresses?"
"Smart women," She stepped up onto the highest doorstep, and Mablung rode closer so she could get on behind him. Daeril lowered herself onto the mare's back, just behind the saddle, thankful that she was long-backed at least. "I do not like this."
"If you hold onto me you won't fall off."
"That is not what I worry about. What will people think?"
Mablung chuckled, squeezing the mare into a trot. Daeril reluctantly leaned forward into his back, grabbing onto his tunic like a vice. When they finally reached the front gate, she couldn't get off the horse fast enough. She had to admit that it had not been unpleasant company, but riding behind a saddle as opposed to on it was far from comfortable.
The horse calling in the dark was unmistakably Rocky. He was with the gate guards' horses, but stood at the corral line, impatiently waiting. Daeril ran to him, slipping under the ropes and immediately threw her arms around his neck. Rocky backed away, struggling in his mistress's grip, before standing still in defeat. She checked him over as best she could in the moonlight, noting his overall condition to have improved, but finding a grainy scar on his chest where he had been stitched up.
"They've been cutting away the proud flesh. It will probably be like that for the rest of his life, but it is not serious."
"We don't let a little scar get in our way, do we boy?" She scratched Rocky in the center of his chest, his sweet spot, and his lower lip began to tremble. "How was he for the ride here?"
"He was fine. Did not spook at all until we got to the gate. He appears to have fully recovered, save in appearance."
"He wasn't pretty to begin with, so no great loss. Shall we return to the citadel?"
The two rangers settled the horses into the stable for the night, and then came out to the courtyard. Soft voices were singing, and they could see figures by the fountain in the torchlight. The voices were unmistakably elves, and soon Daeril realized she had heard the song before. They could not help but stand and listen, transfixed by the ethereal beauty of the voices.
"I have never heard such beauty," Mablung whispered. "Those are the elves of Imladris?"
"Yes. And some of Lothlórien, the Golden Wood."
"Do they always sing like that?"
Daeril nodded.
"They sing in times of joy and sadness. The House of Elrond was always filled with song, and laughter." She could feel her eyes growing heavy. "I'm afraid I will not be able to stay awake if I listen much longer."
"Neither I," Mablung held out his arm. "I told Faramir I would escort you, I best follow through."
"What's one more thing for people to gossip about?"
Daeril allowed Mablung to take her arm, and together they walked through the courtyard, the voices of the elves fading to a dim murmur in the summer night.
"Man ebbenig?" - what did you say?
"Naeg!" - Ouch!
"Ni veren an le ngovaned!" - I am happy to meet you
"Mae le'ovannen" - well met
A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long! My work life has been insane! I'm also preparing to run a camp equestrian program on top of military duty, and I cannot believe how much planning goes into it! Hopefully the next chapters will be more exciting, I am trying to stay as true to the timeline as possible and they had a lot of down time after the coronation. Thank you to all for reading! I'm realizing I have quite a lot of non main characters and names, would it be helpful if I made a guide to who is who and what's what? Feel free to review, let me know what you think!