Scheming and meeting old friends

"If you're in the luckiest one per cent of humanity, you owe it to the rest of humanity to think about the other 99 per cent."
-Warren Buffet-

The wards of Haven were designed for protection. It drove away the dark creatures with the menace they felt if they approached with the intent to poach. Those that did touch the city with their boldness would then be assaulted by images of their loves ones being tortured. If they surpassed that, the final defense would kick in and poison would spew from the runes. Harmful to most creatures but beneficial to the earth. Hermione called it vicious but the idea came from the Ancient Egyptian wizards, though they did use a sort of pressurized salt-based acid instead.

A hidden rune, which the others noticed but didn't remark about, was one that would tell Heather who entered her city. It didn't tell her their names, only their reasons for entering Haven.

So it was with surprise and trepidation that she felt someone enter Haven with the intent to look for her. It wasn't that rare, but it was the first time she had felt that person.

The committee, who she had been having a meeting with, were all startled when Heather cut in, since she rarely spoke in meetings.

"A guest is looking for me," she said to them. "I have received the gist of your reports. Is there anything else to be added?"

The Head of the Committee for Foreign Liaisons and the Head of the Committee for Trade and Industry both pushed forward one sheet of parchment.

"A proposal for a Winter Fair, my lady," they said.

"Send it to my office. It sounds promising," she replied. The meeting was dismissed and Heather nearly ran to an empty spare room to apparate to where she had felt the city's newest guest.

She was a few minutes late and missed the visitor. The gate guards were easy to question and they tripped over themselves to answer her, once they recognized her.

"It was several men, my lady," the gate guard answered. "Five of them. One of them be looking for you."

I know that! Heather thought as she thanked the guards and went to the Hostel they had pointed out. Quick questioning of the concierge told her their rooms. They had rented three rooms. All of them corner rooms with defensible positions and easy escape routes. She hadn't met them yet but this told her one thing: These men would put paranoid Moody to shame.

She wasn't worried though, because this was Haven.

Heather knocked on the nearest room and the door was opened by a guarded man with rugged features. She smiled at him easily and his shoulders unknotted and relaxed.

"I am Gryffon, Lady of Haven," she said with a soft voice. "I heard from my gate guards that you lot were looking for me?"

He looked shocked. "That was minutes ago!" he exclaimed.

Heather had the urge to roll her eyes at him. All of the people in Haven knew that she mostly knew everything going on in her city, especially when she was in it. And there was the gossip and rumor mill to think about too.

"Word goes around quickly," she said instead.

He blinked several times and then allowed her to enter the room, where she almost gaped. All five of them were in the room. Why in the world did they rent three rooms in the first place? Then Heathers eyes started working properly and she realized that she knew one of them.

"Aragorn, you sneaky fellow!" she gasped.

He laughed. "Oh, Gryffon my friend! The look on your face!"

Heather wanted to hit him, but she gave in to the stronger urge and laughed instead. "Shocked me well enough," she agreed and strode forward to clasp his hands. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

Aragorn turned to his companions. One of which, Heather was startled to realize, was a woman. She wasn't a sexist by any means but it was rare to find a female warrior outside Haven. Rohan liked female warriors well enough but they didn't allow them to do the offensive, merely the defensive. Shield maidens, their people called them.

"My lady," the woman moved forward, and Heather was pleased to realize that she found the voice familiar. "My lady, I was your student."

Peering closer at the face, she recognized the brown-green eyes and the round face.

"Why!" she exclaimed. "Fareas! You're still alive! I thought you had died when we received no word from you at all."

Fareas blushed. "My lady, I was lucky to have found them before I died. My companions were not so lucky. We got separated early on when I fell over a cliff."

Heather tamped down her concern, though she wanted to check if she was talking to a living person, not a ghost. She mustn't have quelled the urge that well, because Fareas hurried to reassure her.

"I'm fine, my lady. Bruised but fine. The fall wasn't that far," she said. "I wandered for a while until they found me. I just mentioned your name and they agreed to let me help."

Heather let out a breath. "For the love of all that's magic! You are the luckiest woman! Aragorn, did you come here just to return my stray lamb?"

The man chuckled. "Oh, no. and she is no lamb, my friend. What do you say to creating your own rangers?"

She felt her mind blank momentarily. "Say again?" she said reflexively. Then Heather realized what he meant and nodded. "Oh! That would be swell. Let's go over this tomorrow, though. I just came from a committee meeting and I feel that if I use my mind over this now, it will melt."

This made all of them laugh. Heather scowled at them as she left the Hostel to sleep off her slight headache.

Fareas was the only woman to venture out of the city in the group that consisted of men. They had sought the Dúnedain to help exterminate the evil that roamed the North. Among their group, only Fareas had found them. The fate of the other men was a mystery.

Heather narrated this to her siblings while nursing a strong cup of tea that fought off her sleepy yawns. She envied them since they could easily dose themselves with pepper-up. That was the one potion that Draco had her avoid. It made her pout a little at the injustice of it.

"I will tell the Order to watch out for the missing warriors," Luna said, standing up and clutching a piece of rolled parchment. "May I borrow Hafny?"

The owl in question drifted down from the beams of the ceiling at the mention of her name. When she realized that it was Luna asking for her and not Heather, she puffed up indignantly and stuck her leg out irritably. He looked in the other direction, the very picture of avian displeasure.

When he took off in a flurry of white feathers, Draco remarked, "That owl really is an arrogant and conceited little thing."

Heather grinned. "Careful, Draco. I wouldn't say that where Hafny can hear you."

The girls all laughed when Draco blanched.

Hammering out the new organization was easier since Heather didn't have to do a lot of things anymore, not with Guiomer taking over her duties. Hermione as well had it easier since Felicia started teaching and had created a system of teachers. For Luna, the only duties she had involved the Order of Healing and the occasional committee meeting. For Draco, he had managed to create a suitable batch of potions masters and had them teaching. That left him in the Research Department with Hermione since Meiran took care of that bit.

Their conference area for their ideas was usually in the Sanctuary, but with the Dúnedain, they had to make do with the large committee meeting rooms.

All four of them groaned as they sat down.

"I think we're having boredom by association," Hermione stated.

"Granger," Draco cut in. "Don't sugarcoat it. All of us hate these meetings."

Luna nodded. "So it would stand to reason that we would hate the place where the meetings take place as well."

Heather found the whole topic funny but didn't want to be castigated for it. So she turned her attention to the door and heard voices.

"Guests incoming!" she told them, making them stop bickering in English and instead continue bickering in Westron.

The urge to roll her eyes was getting stronger.

Aragorn watched the four of them create an organization very quickly, with the sort of efficiency that could only come from years of working together. And a bit of experience too. That bit startled him.

"You've done this before," he said, interrupting Lady Eilys from asking all the pertinent questions.

Gryffon smirked at him. "Of course we have. We spent several days planning for this city. And we also created the Order of Healers."

His mind whirled and Aragorn was slightly speechless. His men exclaimed in surprise.

"They are a great service to all people," one of the Dúnedain said. "They have saced my life twice over."

"Though," another one commented. "Why do they not accept payment?"

"Oh, they do!" someone else cut in. "They take only a little and give the rest to the beggars."

Lady Eilys rounded on Gryffon. "Feather!" she exclaimed. "I did not teach them that! And you're the only one I know that has a close contact with my healers."

Gryffon raised her hands in surrender and the sound of quills on parchment stopped for a moment as the other two watched with interest.

"You didn't teach them anything about that," Gryffon conceded. "And they came to me, asking what to do about the food and the money! I mean, there really are some people who don't accept no and it would be a waste to throw it, so I told them to give it to the beggars."

Lady Eilys turned to look at the blindfolded Hodur – how did he write if he couldn't see? – and the man shrugged, holding up two thumbs.

"She isn't lying. I, for one, would know. I mean, you have to admit that it wasn't a practical rule." Lord Hodur said.

The rest of the planning continued, and sometime in-between, Lord Hodur and Lady Eilys had an argument in another language he couldn't understand – and wasn't that a surprise since Aragorn had made it a point to study all of the languages in Arda. The only ones he didn't know to speak were Dwarvish, because it wasn't spoken by Dwarves in front of non-Dwarves, and the Black tongue of Mordor, because Aragorn wasn't crazy enough to try to learn the language of the Dark Lord.

The argument concluded with Lady Enids curls looking wild, reflecting her angry state, and Lord Hodur's hand messing up his hair in irritation. Then Lady Gryffon commented on something and all four of them relaxed again.

She binds them together, he realized. All of this city held in the hollow of her hand. And they allow her because she would never lead them astray.

Aragorn finally understood why he had allowed the girl, Fareas, to drag him and his men out of their patrol route to let him meet the Lady of Haven. Gryffon was his friend and a warrior. But the Lady of Haven was something she intimately embodied and you couldn't understand it unless you saw her in her natural habitat. Fareas had told him that he had the same presence.

Can I then take the crown? he thought. His doubts were being assuaged. That was always the effect Gryffon had on him.

"Aragorn!" she cried out, pulling him out of his musings. "Come on, I'll show you the city."

Hermione voted on the name the Organization on Human Welfare. Since the acronym spelled out O.H.W., Draco didn't agree. Organization for the Unified Charitable Humans was worse since it spelled out O.U.C.H. It lost by a landslide.

Really, there was a reason why nobody allowed Hermione to name anything.

One of the more memorable ones was S.H.I.T., which stood for the Society for Healing and International Training. Luna was luckily being sensible and renamed it Order Training.

In the case of the new organization, Draco got fed up of Hermone's atrocious suggestions and simply called it, the Brotherhood. The name startled Heather enough that she ended up agreeing.

The Dúnedain, who were watching the proceedings with some level of amusement, were startled when Hermione suddenly turned to them.

"You can replenish your supplies here," she said. "We're mostly done here anyway. Eilys and Fareas can take you. Feather set a discount for the rangers here."

Aragorn choked. "A discount? Truly?"

"Yes," Heather nodded, quill racing across the parchment and not noticing that the discount had shocked Aragorn. "I set it up in case you or your men ever visited. The stores that do that aren't taxed either, so you can rest easy."

The rest of them were wondering how they were going to prove they were the right people, because really, a bunch of sword-bearing, dusty and grim-faced men were easy to imitate. Before they could ask about that, Heather did a Eureka! pose and stopped writing long enough to pat down her trousers.

"Aha!" she remarked. "I knew I was missing something!" then she tossed Aragorn a large golden token engraved with a stag, an eagle, an otter and a hare. "Just show that. It's our joint seal of approval. Everybody knows how it looks like."

Aragorn finally broke out of his stupor by shaking his head. He chuckled, "Gryffon, you truly are an example of goodness. The elves do this as well but not quite so extensively."

Luna answered him. "Noblesse Oblige. It is not a language taught in Haven, but it means that those with the means to help out to help because it is their obligation to do so. And however the elves practice that, this is not their race, so they do not invest in it quite so much."

Draco's lips twisted in a sardonic smile. "And no matter how much the elves teach and help men, they die rather quickly, right?"

"Hodur!" Hermione snapped out. There was an embarrassed and tense silence, and the sound of the quill on parchment stopped. Heather tossed the remaining paperwork to Draco.

"Git!" she exclaimed. "I change my mind. I'll take these people shopping instead."

With that, she stomped off, dragging all of them with her and leaving Draco alone.

Aragorn signaled his men to leave the two of them and he turned to her, "Your brother hit a nerve, didn't he?"

Heather sighed and covered her face with her hands. "He's an annoying bastard. I've been purposefully ignoring it, but we've been covering a horrible truth, Aragorn."

"Oh, my friend," he whispered. He felt like he knew what she was going to say and he dreaded hearing it.

"An accident made all of us freeze," she told him, feeling choked and tearful. "I have not aged for a number of years now."

Heather did not cry as Aragorn clasped her in a loose embrace, but her trembling subsided little by little.

"An eternal companion," he remarked. "You ought to marry an elf."

The idea had occurred to her, but…She would either be a cradle robber, or be cradle-robbed.

Bugger.

But the thought made her laugh a little and she felt better as she dragged Aragorn to the market place.

That night, Draco entered her room stealthily, his eyes open and uncovered by a blindfold. It shone like starlight.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "Potter." He cut himself off, looking conflicted. "Heather," he said finally, sounding pained. "We're all we have. Forgive me?"

Heather felt herself melt and she ran to him, her hands wrapping around his neck as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"My son, Draco," she whispered. "My son! He will die before me. No parent should ever have to bury their son!"

He held her as she wept. Heather was so far gone in her grief that she didn't notice Hermione and Luna entering her room, their faces sad and solemn.

Though it really wasn't appropriate anymore, they had a pile-up for her sake and she slept through her tears without any nightmares that night, comforted by the knowledge that she wasn't alone, and would never have to be.

Omake:

Prince Theodred discovers something

Meeting the Dunlendings was surreal. For Theodred, who had spent most of his childhood life listening to strategies and patrols about how best to fight against the Dunlendings, to meet with them and discuss a compromise was bizarre. It made him itch for a good old fashioned fight.

Eomer, who was about to finish his schooling in Haven, would have been a bad idea for the treaties. He had a bad and quick temper. It was a good thing Theodred was older than his cousin by several years or else this thing will blow to kingdom come.

"Seedlings," the tribe leader was muttering. "To plant. That was what the Lady advised."

Wait, what?

"Pardon. I will grant you the seedlings, but what Lady?" Theodred asked.

A dreamy expression crossed the leaders face. "She come, taught us better life, gave us hope, protected us from the evil men and evil wolves. She be a goddess, princeling," the man said solemnly. Then he showed him a carving of the Lady and Theodred nearly killed himself in choking down his shock.

Because no matter how crudely done it was, the wooden carving showed the Lady of Haven.

For the love of the Valar, was he dreaming this?

LOL moments. I laughed a lot writing this stuff, and I cried a lot too. I think I'm seriously bi-polar, or just mercurial.

Did I answer some questions? Coz someone asked a bit about warrior women and Rohan, and I realized that not everybody read the book, you know? So I just crowbarred it into this chapter.

R&R.

~Hallen