8. The Web We Weave

"I am fragile, but I'm strong enough.
I am wanted, enemy number one.
I am lying, cause I never tell.
If you need me, follow me to hell"
Fragile-Megan McCauley

Minas Tirith June 12/ 22 Laire 2969 III Age

Aragorn stared at the door that the tiny blonde had just gone out of with confusion. She was beautiful, granted, but that wasn't what caused the confusion. It was everything else about her.

She had easily lifted a sword that should have weighed far too much for her and then thrown a knife not far from his head with both amazing speed and accuracy. Both things were unusual for a woman of Minas Tirith.

But she didn't look like the women of Minas Tirith. She was small and fine boned like the women of Rohan. And her waist length blonde hair only further accentuated that fact.

That she was familliar with both sword and knife only furthered the easy assumption that she was a shieldmaiden of Rohan. But the idea seemed off. He had known most of the men of Rohan and a woman such as her would have been spoken of.

"Its been a pleasure Thorongil. Perhps we can dance again some other time."

She did not speak like the Riders of the Mark either. Or behave like any proper woman would either. She had argued with him, challenged him even. She was intriguing. Possibly a servant of Sauran, but the thought seemed unlikely. If she was she would have killed him outright.

That left the question.

Who was she?

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It had taken several hours to gather information about 'Cristiel' as she called herself. She had been in Minas Tirith for a year and was a teacher. Well thought of and admired, she seemed a contradiction.

Women so highly educated outside of nobility were rare and even yet more rare were shieldmaidens. That one was here in Minas Tirith and was employed rather than in the Court was more than odd.

Most called her kind, helpful, warm, and gentle hearted. But with those words came others: intelligent, fiery, strong, solitary, and above all others mystery.

It was a mystery that he intended to solve.

So here he was making his way through a crowded tavern that she was known to frequent.

He'd come through the back to keep her from seeing his approach as he waited for his mead from the barkeep he watched her.

She was staring into her mead as if lost in thought. Seemingly, oblivious to the world around her. Sitting alone at a corner table she was left alone by what appeared to be the mutual consent of the patrons and staff.

Picking up his tankard he moved over to her and sat down his drink. Large green eyes looked up at him and blinked in surprise then hardened.

There was nothing to be done now but try and solve this mystery of a woman since he had already alerted her to his presence.

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Crap.

Try to meet him for a year and twice in one day he falls in
her lap.

Crap.

Wait a minute.

Crap

This was not good

Double crap

Taking a deep breath as she watched him sit down before her across the table Buffy waited for the inevitable. She knew he had already started asking questions about her. Its what she would have done. And guessing from the fact that he'd found her favorite tavern he was pretty good.

But he just sat there.

Staring at her.

Weighing her.

And it was creeping her out and really really ticking her off.

"What do you want Thorongil?" she snapped

"Who are you really? I know you call yourself Cristiel, but that cannot be your real name. If you are indeed what you appear to be and are a Shieldmaiden from Rohan then your name does not match those of your people. You are far too educated to be anything other than nobility and yet you teach. Why?" he bombarded her, his voice hard and soft at the same time.

Buffy couldn't help it. She laughed.

The look on Aragorn's face was priceless.

He looked as though she'd just grown another head.

Which only made her laugh more.

Oh yeah he really was Elrond's son. Wether he saw it or not.

Buffy wiped her eyes as her glared at her. Picking up her tankard she took a slow sip and smiled at him, her eyes cold. If he wanted to play hard ball then so be it.

"My name is my own as are my affairs. Do not expect me to reveal my past Strider unless you wish to reveal yours." her voice had been low, hard an very deliberate.

In a flash his arm shot out and grabbed her wrist. His grip was crushing. On any other woman it would have left bruises but on her it was just annoying.

Buffy looked up at him with challenge in her eyes.

"What did you call me?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"You heard me."

"Where did you hear that name and why are you here?"

Buffy had to hold back a Cheshire smile.

"From two who haunt the north. They ride to avenge their mother. And I am here of my own accord. My business does not concern you."

At her words Aragorn drew in a quick breath. Still holding her wrist tightly he was surprised when the tiny woman's other arm shot out and placed a small but effective blade at his throat.

"Release my arm now. I don't care about you Ranger and you would be smart not to cross me. All I want here is peace and freedom." Aragorn released her wrist and watched as the knife suddenly disappeared and she moved quickly to leave.

Buffy was more than angry at the moment. He touched her. Not a wise thing to do. Smart men don't try to threaten the vampire slayer.

Whipping around the corner and out of the bar she fumed the entire way home.

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"She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies."
She Walks in Beauty-Lord Byron (1815)

Minas Tirith January 1/42 Hrive 2970 III Age

Aragorn moved amongst the crowds that filled the large house. He was hunting. Hunting for her. In the last six months he'd done his best to watch for the small blonde woman who knew more about him than anyone else in Minas Tirith. She seemed true to her words that night. She taught, she rode out into Pelinor fields like lightning streaking twice a week and above all she seemed to have little to no interest in him.

He'd gone back to the tavern several times and watched her from the shadows. For the most part she sat alone watching the crowds around her with a sort of sad and bemused smile. Occasionally she would speak to the captains that frequented but more than not she kept to herself.

And now after months of watching her the chance to see her in a new arena had appeared.

And he was ready.

He thought she was of the nobility and tonight he would be able to prove it by watching her.

Weaving his way twards the the balcony he saw her. Dressed in green and gold, she was unmistakeably beautiful. Her hair was piled back from her face in a series of intricate braids that reminded him of the styles worn by the elleths of Rivendell. The back was left loose to land in waves down her back, just brushing her hips. She spoke with the ladies as though born one of them and he could hear her laughter from where he stood.

Deciding that the most direct approach was the most effective he began to move in her direction.

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Buffy was having a wonderful night. She had dressed carefully and modestly as to not draw too much attention to herself. And now speaking to the other ladies of their children she was in good spirits. Of course the fact that she was on her third glass of wine had nothing to do with it.

Nope. Nothing at all

So when someone touched her elbow she still had a smile on her face. She turned and saw Aragorn standing at her elbow and instantly her smile tightened.

He had been watching her for months trying to figure out who she was and it was well past the point of annoying. Buffy had been considering leaving for a while now just to get away from him. After all, how was she supposed to guide a man who didn't trust her?

She had considered telling him the truth but had decided against it just to piss him off. And as far as establishing credibility by telling him who her foster parents were, not happening. No one outside of Lothlorian, Elrond and his blood children were to know. Her adar had been quite explicit about that.

She continued smiling at him though as he turned to the other ladies and asked if he could have a moment. They all agreed and before Buffy could even protest she was being carted along by Aragorn the entrance of the balcony.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She hissed.

"Nothing is wrong with me my lady. I have simply come to ask you one last time who you are and your intentions before I inform the Steward that there is a noblewoman hiding in his city."

Buffy looked into his eyes for several long moments before she spoke.

"Facing my destiny. Not running from it like you are." she said softly before turning more quickly than even he could see and disappearing into the crowds.

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