Disclaimer: As much as I would love to own this noble people. I do not. I just love them from afar. Sob.

IwishChanEven the best of us have those moments. Please enjoy.

Laurenke1Thanks for the encouragement. I will continue, please review if you like it.

Lanse : Bingo! If that is the impression you received the I have been successful in my writing. That is exactly what I was aiming for. You make me feel so great! Please keep reading.

Nefretiri : I hope you like this chapter as much as the last. Thanks for reviewing.

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Chapter Four

Discovered Queen

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It is a fact that Faramir and Halbarad would have been very insulted at this meeting between the king and this young woman, if they both didn't believe they had brought it about. The subsequent courtship and marriage between the young woman and the king was often remarked to have been the brainchild of the two advisors. There are very few people who knew how the marriage finally came about, least of all the two well meaning advisors. As it happened, before either of them had even met the young woman Elessar had already made the decision to court her.

After their initial meeting Elessar and the girl met every morning in the stone chapel. It wasn't as if they had agreed to met and talk together, learning more and more of each other, it just happened that way. When Elessar met with her the next morning following their first meeting, he found her waiting for him.

"Good morning your highness." she curtsied, "I was hoping you would come again this morning. I was just about to light the candles, if you would care to help?"

Elessar found himself smiling down into her face and said, "Certainly, but first I have a confession to make to you."

"Do you?" she smiled a little nervously, "What ...?"

Elessar felt slightly sheepish as he admitted, "I'm afraid that I forgot to ask your name yesterday. I hope that you'll forgive me if I ask you now?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I never offered it. It's Beryl, milord." she said.

"Beryl, that's good name. It suits you well." Elessar turned his attention to the alter and asked, "What were you saying about candles?"

Beryl released a breath and smoothed her skirt with her hands, "Yes, the candles, today is the first day of the autumn festival you know."

"No, I didn't know." he answered. He watched as she began to light the long yellow tapers. The light flickered and danced in the shadowy chapel gloom, the halo of light spreading around the alter area. Beryl went from one side of the alter to the middle and lit all the candles. Her wrist moved with a little twist as each wick caught light so that the wax did not drip onto the cloth.

"Estel?" Arwen's voice was soft and whispered passed his ear.

"Yes?"

"Come and light the lamps with me."

She lead him into the Hall of Fire. A great fire burned in the hearth and taking a spill from a vase on the mantel piece she began to light the blue lamps along the walls. Estel went with her, carefully lifting the glass shades for her.

"I love the lamps at night." she smiled, "They're like stars."

He reached up again and lifted the glass shade and she held the flame to the wick. It sprang to life and Arwen blew out the spill. Estel could not take his eyes away from her face, so clear and pale, so smooth and lush. He took her in his arms.

"Arwen…"

"My Lord? Are you well?" Beryl's voice broke through the fog of memory and suddenly he was in the chapel again. Beryl's face was creased with worry and her candle dripped onto her gown. He reached down and caught the candle, accidentally causing the hot wax to fall onto her fingers.

"Ah!" She dropped the candle altogether and tried to scrape the wax off with her other hand.

"No, here, let me." Elessar took her hand and gently peeled the wax away, "Here, sit down. Do you keep any water here?"

"In the pitcher in the corner." she said, nodding her head toward the simple pewter basin and pitcher.

Elessar brought the water back and took a few dried leave from his pocket. Beryl watched as he crushed them to a fine power with his fingers and the aroma filled the air.

"How beautiful it smells. What is it?" she asked.

"Tis Kingsfoil." he said as he worked, "It does not grow in this region." He stirred the water with the herb a few times and took her hand in his. Her hand was small and brown telling the hours she spent in the out of doors. Where the wax had fallen the skin was red and slightly blistered.

"Have you a handkerchief or cloth?" he asked. She pulled a neat piece of cambric from her pocket and he dipped it into the fragrant water. Gently he began to wipe the cool water over her fingers.

Beryl looked down at him as he worked, head bent over her hand. She had never noticed the lines that creased his forehead and crinkled around his eyes. Care had worn age into his face before it should have, even for one of the Dúnedain. His dark hair was speckled with gray and although he was as agile as any man he wore a tired air.

But what drew her eyes most of all was the odd pendent that he wore at his throat. It was fashioned in a way unfamiliar to her and it glistened and shone with a light unlike any gem she had ever seen. Of course, he had always worn it, but she had never wondered why. It was clearly a feminine diadem.

Everyone had heard the stories of the king having once loved an Elvish princess, but surely they were just stories.

"There, how do they feel?" he asked. She looked at her fingers and saw that the redness was already fading away.

She wiggled her fingers a little, "They're very well thank you. Someday you must tell me how you accomplished such a miracle with a bit of leaves and water." she smiled.

Just then a page came in and called the king away. He bide her goodbye and asked, "I may come again tomorrow?"

"Please do. I'm not much for company with all the officials but I will always welcome you sire." Beryl curtsied again and he left. As he strode over the lawn toward the large main house, Beryl stood in the doorway of the chapel holding one hand in the other. She was afraid that she could very easily care more for the king then a simple girl of the country should. She held her hand loosely in her other and sighed.

Beryl shook herself a little and said, "Don't be silly you goose. If he marries anyone it will be a great lady of the court in Minas Tirith, not some country bumpkin."

She could never have known that Elessar might have felt that a simple country girl might have been the most suitable of all women to grace the role as queen. But then again, Elessar had not yet realized it himself, still, the time was drawing nearer and nearer when he would.

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"It makes me quite sick to watch him." Halbarad said and took a healthy mouthful of wine.

It was two weeks into the fall season, and it was the night of the autumn festival and once again Elessar was dancing with all the young ladies of the tiny Lamedon court. Faramir looked shocked at this harsh comment form the Dúnedain.

"I'm sure that there's no call for such words Halbarad." Faramir said, "The king seems quite happy with Lady Olwen, she's a charming girl."

"Seems" Halbarad answered, "That's the whole trouble, he's only going through the motions. He doesn't like her anymore then I like you."

Faramir looked slightly offended and then said dryly, "Which at this moment isn't much. Why are you in such a foul humor this evening? I thought you should have been glad to get back to the city."

Halbarad smiled pleasantly to some of the ladies as they passed before frowning severely at the Steward, "The whole problem is that we're going home the day after tomorrow and that without a queen."

"Perhaps not," Faramir looked around the room, "What about her, she's pretty."

"Where?" Halbarad looked in the direction that the Steward indicated, "Oh, her, she's just a girl."

"But she's pretty enough." Faramir countered.

"I don't even know her name." Halbarad answered sourly.

"I do." Faramir smirked, "I know the name of every available young woman in this room."

"You're disgusting." Halbarad said and drained his glass. As he set the glass on a nearby table his eye was caught by a young girl just entering the room. Without a word Halbarad grabbed Faramir's arm and gestured to the girl, "What do you see?" he asked breathlessly.

"A girl," Faramir announced blandly, "Why, is she important?"

"She is small, neat and totally unimportant." Halbarad said gleefully, "That is what makes her so interesting!"

"Uhm," Faramir mused, "She is the younger sister of Lady Olwen and her name is…uh…well."

"You don't know!" Halbarad fairly crowed with delight, "Well, since you are so incompetent, I shall find out myself."

Before Faramir could stop him, Halbarad was halfway across the floor making a beeline toward the young lady. Faramir moved around the room more subtlety and inquired of one of the older ladies as to the name of the young woman in question.

The Lady followed Faramir's nod and said, "Oh yes, young Beryl, such a sweet girl. A trifle too quiet perhaps but nice and handy when needed. She's not much for dancing but her sister, Lady Olwen that is, coaxed her into it."

'I see, "Faramir said, "Thank you so much Lady Beatrice, would you care to dance?"

As Faramir whirled the woman around the room Halbarad was doing the same to the young lady Beryl.

"So," he said cheerfully.

"Yes?" she answered.

"Well, uh," Halbarad searched for the right words, "I like your necklace." he said awkwardly. The pendent was a small golden seagull and frightfully common among the Lamedon women.

"Thank you sir." she answered, "I hear that you are all returning to Minas Tirith in a few days time."

"Yes, unfortunately ." Halbarad said, "I was hoping we would have stayed a little longer but…duty calls you know."

"Yes, we do what we must." she tripped lightly beside him and he caught her round the waist in the same motion that the other dancers followed.

"Yes," Halbarad repeated unhelpfully, "Duty to one's country and land is very important don't you think?"

"Certainly, but you're position within the court is much more important then a girl's place in the Lamedon court. As much as I love it, I know there isn't a great deal of renown here."

"But a young woman may be capable of the greatest of all duties," Halbarad said, "She may bind two feuding houses in peace or give the country an heir."

Beryl flushed modestly and looked away, "I suppose," she answered in a small voice.

Just then Faramir tapped the Dúnedain's shoulder and said, "Cutting in I think," and swept the poor embarrassed girl away before Halbarad quite knew what was happening. He huffed off into a corner and proceeded to glare at Faramir as he glided around the room with the girl.

For his part Faramir did not say anything as he danced with beryl. He knew well enough at such a timid girl would hardly what to speak to a total stranger about delicate topics. Beryl was enormously grateful to the Steward for merely being an enjoyable dance partner. She had no wish to speak to the king's dear friend about the begetting of children.

Unknown to either of the advisors or to Beryl herself, Elessar was watching them. He had noticed the moment the slip of girl had entered the room. IT was strange to see her in any place but the chapel, but for the first time he really noticed her looks.

It was obvious that she was plain in features and dress. But in her plain qualities Elessar felt no danger of thinking that she came near to Arwen's memory. Her very plainness made her all the more attractive as a possible queen. She was young and healthy, surely she would be a good mother and queen. Elessar almost hated himself as he decided to speak to her father.

But even as Faramir introduced them, for the first time the steward thought, Elessar looked down at her and knew that she would come to Minas Tirith as his bride.