Elrohir saddled his horse. Elrond stood by, clearly unhappy that his son was defying his wishes. The rangers had left an hour ago, going back to the stronghold where they belonged. Elladan had gone with them—but so had Jeren—and that was what had Elrohir up out of his sickbed and chafing to be away.
Elrohir was quickly mending, but it had only been a little over a day since his injury. Even an Elf needed more time than that to heal. And the poison had not left his system as quickly as it had done with the others inflicted with it. It lingered, causing Elrohir to say things unintended, as well as shift his mood suddenly. This had Elrond concerned, and he knew not how to cure it, so Elrohir leaving was not in his son's best interest. Of course, since the poison's strength had been greater in Elrohir's case, it was still possible that merely enough time had not elapsed. Staying here at home, so that his father could see after him—that would be best for Elrohir, in Elrond's opinion. And Elrond had tirelessly told him just that, ever since Elrohir had made his desire to ride known.
"I told you from the outset that this plan of yours for Jeren would go astray," Elrond said, angrily, "yet neither you nor Estel listened to me. Hear me now, Elrohir—this idea of yours to ride today is a bad one. You have no call to go roaming around the countryside in your state. Your injury is still raw. You do believe me when I tell you that you still suffer ill effects from the Orcish poison, do you not?"
"Yes, Father," Elrohir said, obviously trying to placate his father. "I will have Elladan look after me as soon as I arrive at the stronghold. And I know that the poison still has its hold on me. I hear myself speak at times, unbelieving that it is I saying the things being uttered. But I cannot stay here knowing that Estel is going to discipline Jeren. I just cannot do it. I must stop him."
"Do you seriously believe Estel would do such a thing?" Elrond asked. "Jeren saved your life. Estel knows that, as we all do."
"I do not know what Estel might do!" Elrohir's tone was suddenly explosive and he turned on his father with even more anger in his voice. "All I know is that Jeren is about to be punished for saving my life and I am responsible!" His expression abruptly changed to one of frustration, and he leaned his face against his horse's neck, seeming exhausted beyond thought.
Elrohir turned to Elrond and embraced him. Stepping back he said, "Forgive me, Father. I have no call to be shouting at you. But I must do this. I will return as soon as I've spoken my piece to Estel."
Elrond knew defeat when he faced it. "Very well, son. But do return quickly. My concern for you has not abated. I will not rest until I know you are right again."
Elrohir nodded and mounted his horse. He rode away from his father without looking back.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Estel, do not do this," Elrohir said. He had arrived at the stronghold just as the discipline was about to commence.
Aragorn glanced at Halbarad and then back at his brother. "It must be done and by me. Jeren knew the directive, yet she went against it. She had good reason, but the fact remains that she used her weapon when forbidden to do so. You were there when I not only gave her the first command, but when I reiterated that same command. She swore both times she would abide by the rule. She was apprised of the consequences if she did not."
He paced a short distance away, but turned to face Elrohir again. "Had she not announced to the crowd at the archery trial the conditions of the edict I gave her, we would not be in this fix quite so deeply. The men would not know—it would just be a matter of her learning from this. Unfortunately, The Mouth of the Dunedain was on this mission, and Joem's already approached me about it. I censured him and told him to mind his business and I'd mind mine. But now my leadership will be in question. And by now all the men know of her breach of my directive. Some do not care, but there are many who want her gone—and they do care. I must play by the rules as strictly as I might this time."
Elrohir, Aragorn and Halbarad were in the dining hall awaiting the offenders. Since Rhyse was to order Jeren to arms and did not, he was considered as guilty as she. They would both meet with discipline today.
"Do not hurt her, Estel," Elrohir said directly. His stare would have cowed a lesser man, but Aragorn knew what had to be done. He turned and left the hall, instructing Halbarad to send Rhyse into the next room as soon as he arrived.
It wasn't long before Jeren came in, accompanied by Rhyse. Rhyse straddled a bench at one of the tables and sat. His concerned expression seemed not for himself, although he faced the same punishment that Jeren did.
Jeren approached Elrohir and he looked shaken. Jeren had never seen him like this before.
"All will be well, Elrohir," she said, as if soothing a child. "I've had worse than this from my own father. Worry not." Indeed she did not appear or sound that troubled.
Halbarad opened the door to the storage room, where Aragorn had just gone, and motioned to Rhyse that his time was at hand.
"Come, your judgment awaits you," Halbarad said, clearly unhappy with his son for needing to be here at all.
The discipline would be given in a storage room off the dining hall, which housed mops, brooms and buckets, as well as linen and pots and pans on shelves lining the walls. There was a small table set near the center, on which sat a riding crop and a lit lantern. There was a window high up in the peak of the roof—much like the one in Jeren's loft room—but it afforded little light.
Rhyse was gone for almost fifteen minutes. Jeren wondered if his punishment had been greater than hers might be, since he was considered her superior officer. She hoped not. While she would not have acted in a different way had she known just exactly what his punishment would be, she still did not like being responsible for another's pain.
As she stood there, Jeren could plainly hear the strikes Rhyse was being dealt. All three of them. She looked at Elrohir and found him staring at her. She swallowed hard, but said nothing.
Rhyse emerged from the room looking no different than when he went in. Jeren decided that he had much stamina and nerve. She'd been given strikes with the whip before and they always got her attention. She knew Rhyse's back must still be stinging as if it were on fire and only after awhile would it subside to a dull ache.
On his way out of the hall, Rhyse squeezed her arm and gave her a small smile of encouragement. Halbarad motioned for Jeren to come forth. She smiled again at Elrohir, and as she left, insisted, "Worry not!"
As she followed Halbarad to meet her discipline, Jeren listened as Elrohir left the hall. She knew his Elven senses would allow him to hear much more than he apparently wanted to.
Discipline among the rangers was for the most part rare, and Aragorn wasn't usually called upon to mete it out. Halbarad got that burden. But since this bargain had been between Jeren and Aragorn, he thought it only fair that he be her judge.
Usually discipline was dealt out in public, to influence others to not do the same crime as what the accused had done. But since Jeren was a woman, Aragorn made this substitute, and instead of the usual whip used, he had a riding crop in his hand. He had no intention of having her bare her back, as was usually done, but even with her fully garbed, he'd not put her on stage for a show to the others.
Jeren entered the room and closed the door. She began undoing the ties to her tunic.
"That's not necessary," Aragorn said quietly, staying her hands. "You will not meet with discipline from me today." He walked a few steps from her and turned; the room was very small.
"I cannot see Rhyse disciplined and not get like treatment," Jeren said, as she again reached for the fastenings of her tunic.
"I am telling you to hold, Jeren," Aragorn said impatiently. "This is why you are here at the stronghold at all—to teach you a lesson. You do not listen!" As he'd made that last remark, he'd stretched his arms out to the sides in exasperation. In so doing, he dislodged a mop that had been leaning against the wall. He reached to right it, but in the process of fumbling with it, sent its long, wooden handle into the side of Jeren's face with much force.
The impact was such a surprise—and the hit so hard—that she actually fell back on her rump. She held her jaw with one hand, her eyes closed, until the worst of the pain had subsided.
Aragorn was at her side instantly, helping her up. He was aghast—a large red welt was already forming on Jeren's skin. He helped her to her feet.
"Jeren, I am sorry," he said, in such a sheepish way that she chuckled quietly.
"I've often thought to perhaps be felled by an Orc," Jeren said, still smiling, "but I never expected to be felled by a kitchen tool!"
Aragorn led her the few short steps back to the table that held the lamp. He took her face in one of his large hands, turning it so that the light fell on it better and he could see the damage he'd done. Across her jaw line and down the side of her neck trailed a large, red mark. Even as he watched, a bruise was forming.
"Elrohir is going to kill me," he said, mostly to himself. Then he looked into her eyes. "Yet you are to tell no one you did not receive discipline from me today. No one. It must remain secret—between you, me and Rhyse. And before you protest again, Rhyse only received a lashing from my tongue. If he is to make a good ranger, he must follow orders implicitly. There will be times that his life depends on it.
Aragorn fetched a stack of dishtowels from a shelf on the wall and placed it on the table beside the lamp. He picked up the riding crop and dealt a fierce blow to the towels.
"I had no intention of using the whip on you today—none at all. But it must seem as if I did so."
He hit the stack of towels again, making it sound to any who might be out in the hall listening for such a thing, as if he were dealing the blow to Jeren. This is what she had heard when Rhyse was in here.
"The Mouth has seen fit to spread it around that you broke my directive and that you would receive discipline as a result. So if I do not follow through, my integrity and authority will come into question. That must not happen, even over such a trivial matter as this."
He dealt the towels one final blow and set the riding crop aside.
"I will explain all to Elrohir later; in his current state of mind I cannot trust him to not blurt it out for all to hear. So once you are out of this room, you must never speak of the true nature of this discipline again. Am I understood?"
Jeren nodded and said, "I understand."
"I merely meant to talk to you," he said, frowning. He again took her face in one of his hands and the fingers of his other hand trailed over the purpling welt. "I suppose this will show just what a beast I can be."
Jeren chuckled again. "Worry not about it, Lord Aragorn. It truly no longer hurts. Would that this have been the only discipline I'd ever received for disobeying orders."
"You have seen the whip before?" Aragorn asked quietly, more as fact than question.
"Many times, my lord," she replied. "But he only meant it to teach me. He did not mean it to break me."
Jeren felt proud of herself—she'd spoken of her father without tears even threatening.
"My discipline will not seem so harsh, then," Aragorn said, "yet you might not like it as well. Words have a way of staying with someone, where a beating can be shoved into the back of one's mind. If you take nothing from this room today, take this: you must listen to those more experienced than you are. Just as I told Rhyse and now you—you might not understand every order you are ever given, but you must obey. Your very life could depend on it.
"Your rescue of Elrohir—alone—showed me just how green you truly are, and how inflated an ego you must have, to have even attempted such a irresponsible feat. You were ordered not to go, yet you went on your own, disregarding the wisdom of those with far more experience than you have. That is why there are superiors. They have the good judgment of age that younglings lack. You are very smart, and likewise very stubborn, but you do not know all—far from it.
"I cannot offer you a position with the rangers here, but I can offer you a vote on the matter. The rangers are majority ruled. The men must decide. That is how it has always been and how it will remain. I can call a meeting and hold the vote as to whether you are to be allowed in or not. Your actions in the battle—in which you saved Elrohir—will gain you much esteem. You might get the majority you need, especially with Rhyse on your side spreading the tales of your marksmanship.
"And lastly, I could never discipline you for saving Elrohir's life. No matter who knew or said anything about you breaking any directive of mine. He and his brother are dear to me, and you did me great service when you felled those attacking him."
He clapped her on the shoulder, and to her credit, she did not sway or falter, for it was a stout tap that he gave her. She stood straight and tall. Proud.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
As Jeren emerged from the storage room, Elrohir came back into the hall. Aragorn followed several steps behind her. Jeren smiled at Elrohir as she approached him; yet he became enraged the nearer she came. He saw what she'd already forgotten about: a red welt and a bruise starting to form, across her jawbone and down her throat on the right side.
She knew instantly there was going to be trouble. She'd never seen Elrohir really angry before and if this was how it looked, she never wanted to see him thusly again. She wondered how much of his anger was from the poison's effects and how much was simply because he loved her so deeply. She put herself between him and Aragorn, and he took her by the arms and pushed her gently aside.
"I will show you how discipline is dealt, since you obviously do not know!" Elrohir said fiercely to Aragorn.
Halbarad had been leaning against a table, waiting for Aragorn to finish, but he suddenly stood, ready to break up what looked to be a challenge from Elrohir against Aragorn.
Jeren hated the thought of lying to Elrohir, but she'd been told to tell no one the circumstances of her discipline, and for whatever reason, she did not think to tell him the truth. He seemed so predatory—his behavior frightened her.
"T'was my fault, Elrohir!" Jeren said intensely, thinking quickly. "I flinched and he missed his mark." She winced, realizing as the phrase left her mouth that she might have just made the situation worse with her careless words. She had her palms against Elrohir's chest, but was having no luck in dissuading him from reaching his target. She was not getting through to him. Halbarad closed the distance between himself and the two would-be combatants.
"Elrohir," she said firmly, "If you have words about this with Lord Aragorn, I promise you I will never speak to you again!"
His eyes sought hers at her last remark. He knew Jeren and therefore knew she was not merely talking. His eyes were tortured; hers were relieved at finally seeing his focused on her.
"Did you hear me, Elrohir?" she asked. "T'was my fault."
"I heard, but you have no fault in this catastrophe! This entire thing is my fault. Mine. You would not be here but for me. The directive would not have been made had I not suggested it. You would not have been struck—" Elrohir touched her face gently with the backs of his fingers, "if you had not saved my life."
"And I would endure a thousand strokes a thousand times over, if it meant you lived. My ambitions pale when balanced against your life. There is no comparing the two. I will gladly go home, if it means that you live. You are much more important to me, Elrohir, than any hope I might have to join with the rangers."
He grabbed her to him and held her tight. Jeren thought her heart would break; she'd never seen him so grieved about anything before. And over something so trivial. Trivial to her anyway.
"I've decided not to send you back to Rivendell," Aragorn said when all was calm again. "That is why I dealt this punishment first, so that it would mollify the ones who would expect it, and then I could reverse the other portion of our bargain. And it will not be amiss, considering the circumstances of your breaking of the edict. I will call for a vote, to see if you can be recruited."
Jeren considered what Aragorn had said. She should want to stay. She knew she'd made tremendous strides in winning the men with her actions in the battle. She'd ignored a direct order—and from the Chieftain—knowing she would be in a world of trouble, yet another's life had been spared because of her actions. And not just 'another', but Elrohir, one of the sons of Elrond. She might now have the majority behind her, but somehow, it did not matter any more.
Elrohir's reaction to her punishment made her see him in a new light. She'd always considered him as a brother she never really had, but it was now obvious to her that his feelings were more parental toward her.
Understanding dawned—she now realized her own father's mind-set. She had put her father through torment, every time she insisted on going into dangerous situations, and every time she would meet trouble, he would take it very personally. And she now knew that Elrohir felt the same way. She could not ask him to bear this, not when it wasn't strictly necessary. If she'd had any doubt earlier, Elrohir's response to her discipline had laid it to rest—whether the poison was influencing him or not.
"Thank you, Lord Aragorn," she said, "but I decline. I will stay a little longer; I wish to see Elen and her family—get to know them better. But I will be leaving soon. Thank you for the opportunity you've given me." She turned and left the hall.
Elrohir was astounded by Jeren's short speech. But he had heard the tremulous tone of her voice and seen the tears in her eyes as she'd made it. He did not know what her game was this time, but he would find out. He always did.
The contemptuous glare Elrohir fixed on Aragorn hurt the younger man, but Aragorn could do nothing at the present to ease his brother's mind.
Elrohir stormed away. The door he slammed echoed throughout the hall.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Elladan looked up when Elrohir swung the door to the room that they shared, crashing it closed. Elladan sat at the desk, reading an old book he'd brought with him from home. He said nothing, he just resumed his reading. Elrohir, on the other hand, paced the distance—which was short—across the room. And then paced it again.
Aragorn also had a private room here in the main hall, as was fitting the Chieftain. But the twins shared this one, because there were not two free rooms for them each to have their own. Neither of them was in residence at the settlement enough to warrant a cabin, and bunks in the barracks did not appeal to them. This arrangement suited them just fine.
"How can you be so calm," Elrohir snarled at his brother, "when Estel has just beaten Jeren?"
Elladan looked at Elrohir uncertainly. "I doubt it was as bad as that. Really Elrohir; Estel 'beat' her?"
"If the bruise on her face is any indication, then yes, he's beaten her."
Elrohir had Elladan's attention now. "What are you speaking of, Elrohir?"
"I just left her in the hall," he said, "or rather, she just left me. And her face is bruised. She claimed she flinched and Estel missed his mark. Well just let me loose on him and I will not miss my mark."
"She was bruised?" Elladan repeated, frowning.
Elrohir leaned over the desk, right into Elladan's face. "Listen to me, Brother," Elrohir said directly to Elladan, as if his twin might be hard of hearing and may need to read his lips. "She was bruised. What about that remark do you find unable to comprehend?"
Elladan got up from his chair, standing away from Elrohir slightly. Gazing directly into his brother's eyes, he said, "I comprehend, I just find it hard to believe."
"What?" Elrohir asked, "You accuse me of telling you falsely?"
"Of course not, Elrohir," Elladan said, "I just think you misunderstood, is all."
Elrohir threw a suspicious look at his twin. "You know something about this discipline that I do not. What is it, Elladan?"
The twins were still unable to mind speak to each other. But Elladan distinctly felt the tiniest of intrusions into his mind. The link—while still not strong—was there, so Elladan quickly put up his guard.
"I cannot say, Elrohir," Elladan told him quietly.
"You cannot or will not, Elladan?" he asked him in return.
"Both," he replied. "You know you are still afflicted by the Orcish poison, Brother; what confidences that might be told to you usually, cannot be shared with you right now. But trust me when I tell you, Jeren was in no danger from Estel."
"Then explain that bruise on her face to me!"
"I cannot—," Elladan started, but there was a rap on the door interrupting him.
Elrohir pulled the door open and there was Aragorn, appearing as if he thought he might need to draw a weapon before he entered. Elrohir left the door hanging ajar and turned his back on Estel, going deeper into the room. Aragorn entered and quietly closed the door behind him.
"Elrohir," Aragorn started, "I—"
"How could you do that, Estel?" Elrohir demanded without turning toward Aragorn.
Angry now, Aragorn said quietly, but firmly, "Think you so little of me, Elrohir?" He walked to his Elven brother, going around him so that he could face him as he spoke. "You above all must remember the lessons taught by those who command over those they command. It has been many years ago, but I still remember it vividly. I distinctly remember a lesson I needed to learn and I learned it well, Elrohir—at your hands."
"So, this is some sort of retribution you visited on Jeren because of something I did to you years ago?"
"No," Aragorn said, his anger growing. "I am Chieftain here. I have men to lead, which I do and do well. You brought the trouble you were having with Jeren and laid it upon my doorstep. I embraced it. She is my kin, however distant, and I owe her father what I can do, to see she lives and prospers. She knew the directive. She accepted the debt. She swore and then, by her actions, she forswore. There was no other choice, Elrohir. You know this."
"I told you not to hurt her and she comes back to me bruised—on the face, no less!"
Aragorn hesitated, his anger ebbing slightly. "That was an unfortunate accident—with a mop handle," he said, a corner of his mouth curving up a little.
Elladan couldn't help himself, he laughed at the awkward expression on Aragorn's face, as well as his strange choice of words.
After an initial glare at Elladan, Elrohir asked, obviously confused, "So you beat her with a mop handle?"
"No," Aragorn insisted, "I did not." He was beginning to smile now despite the grave conversation they had been having—and Elladan's laughter was not helping him any. "I bumped a mop and as I tried to right it, I accidentally shoved its handle into her face. No one is more appalled by the result than I. But she actually laughed, after she got over the initial pain."
Elrohir considered Aragorn's words for a moment, still confused. He felt that Estel would not lie to him, but this story was very suspect. "Yet you carried out your discipline on her, did you not?"
Aragorn exhaled audibly. As much as he wanted to—needed to, really—he could lie to Elrohir no longer. He would tell him the truth, and then try to make him remain in this room for the rest of his stay at the stronghold, or until the poison no longer affected him.
"No, Elrohir," Aragorn said, glancing at Elladan. "I did not discipline either of them. I merely spoke to them both—gave them each a piece of my mind. I could not carry out the formal discipline knowing Jeren had saved your life with her actions."
The relief was obvious as it washed over Elrohir. His shoulders slumped as he heaved a huge sigh, closing his eyes. But they immediately opened again.
"She lied to me!" he said with a frown.
"You are looking for trouble today, Elrohir," Aragorn said, scowling again. "Your mood is foul. Perhaps you should rest, maybe improve your humor, so that those of us who are forced with your company just might be able to stand you."
Elrohir smiled then. "I could say that you came to me—it is you forcing your company on me, Estel. But perhaps you are right."
"Jeren only lied to you because you reacted so strongly when you'd seen she'd been hurt," Aragorn commented, "and because I told her the true nature of her punishment had to remain unspoken. Which is something I am telling you now. This is to stay untold—to anyone. If you cannot do that, please do not venture from this room."
"That will be hard," Elrohir said, "since I must now go find Jeren and speak to her."
Aragorn closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them again, staring at his brother with obvious irritation. "Why, Elrohir? Just leave her be for a while."
"No, Estel," Elrohir said, "I must find out her reasons for declining your offer of calling an election, to see if she can be recruited. That has been her dream for years and she refused your offer. There must be a cause for her to suddenly give it all up."
Aragorn looked at Elladan again. He knew the reason, if Elladan did not. But should he tell Elrohir? It would hurt Elrohir to know he was the source of Jeren's sudden reversal. He decided the matter would be better settled between the two of them.
"I will go find her and send her to you," Aragorn told him.
"I would appreciate that," Elrohir said. He cautiously sat on his bed, holding a hand to his injured side. "In the meantime, I will get some rest. Perhaps improve my foul mood."
Aragorn smiled and, turning, left the room.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
As soon as she left the hall, Jeren headed to the stable to saddle Two. She rode north up the river quite a ways and stopped—not at the usual spot where she and Rhyse had gone a few times—but further. She wanted to be alone in her misery and wanted no one to find her.
She found a peaceful place, where the Bruinen curved and trees, probably ancient in age, thrust their huge, green boughs out over the water. She allowed Two to graze while she sat on the bank with her feet on the ground and her knees drawn up, her elbows resting on them.
Jeren gazed out across the water without really seeing it. In her mind's eye, she saw Elrohir's face when he thought he was the cause of the bruise on her. Because he knew that she had broken the rule to save his life, the discipline had hurt Elrohir far more than it would have hurt Jeren, had it been dealt. Elrohir's expression had been one of such agony, as if he had taken the whip that was meant for her, feeling every last second of the lashing pain. And the pain that Jeren had seen in his eyes cut at her heart.
So what if she also felt some self-pity about giving up her dream of joining the Dunedain rangers? She had worked hard—no, she had labored intensely—to acquire the skills needed to even contemplate joining the rangers. And all that toil had been for naught, apparently. Since she would not even ask for a vote from the rangers, would Glorfindel allow her to join with the Imladris force? Would Lord Elrond allow it? Did she even want that? All questions she could not answer at present.
She lay back in the grass, unfastening the first two ties on her tunic. It was hot out and she needed some air. She opened it to her waist, flapping the lapels to cool herself off. She just might shuck all her clothes and jump in the river.
She relaxed where she lay, deciding she could do nothing this minute about all these questions and problems she had. She was almost asleep, when Two nickered quietly. The mare's head came up from the grass on which she'd been grazing and, with ears pricked, she looked back southward. Jeren lifted her head enough to look, too. A rider approached. Oh joy…
She lay her head back down, closing her eyes again. Whoever it was would—hopefully—take the hint if she did not greet them. She heard the thud of the horse's hooves in the grass as the rider approached, then as the sound slowed, the horse obviously walking. Finally she heard whomever it was dismount and walk unhurriedly toward her. She had a moment's self-doubt, wondering if it could, mayhap, be Joem. But he'd not tried any mischief when he had her alone in the barn in Rivendell, so she doubted he would try anything now, if it were indeed he. And she had her long knife—she was not defenseless. She kept her eyes closed.
She heard her visitor sit down beside her and finally lay down, too. Her eyes shot open as she looked to see who it could be—being too familiar, in her opinion.
Rhyse. Lying on his side gazing at her. She should have known.
He looked at her uneasily. He lifted his hand, his fingers moving to trace the bruise on her jaw.
"Aragorn did not do this, did he?" Rhyse asked, anger just below the surface in his tone.
"Yes he did do it," Jeren said, "yet it isn't as it appears. As far as anyone else is to know, however, he did it as he was dealing the discipline to me."
"How?" Rhyse asked, clearly confused.
"I wish to not think about it right now, Rhyse," Jeren said. "Just know it was accidental. Mayhap I will tell you some other time, though there really is naught to tell. Right now, I wish to think about nothing."
"Perhaps I could help you with that." He looked at her for a long moment, his sensual intentions written plainly on his face. He bent to kiss her.
It was a tender kiss, not like the one two nights ago in the woods. His hand trailed along her face and down her neck, finally resting on her ribs. But his hand seemed to have a mind of its own, because it began traveling back up her ribcage, even though his lips never ceased their attention on her mouth. His fingers brushed the tie at the top of her small shirt, really just half a shift that she wore beneath her tunic. Rhyse lifted his face to watch as his fingers pulled the ribbon holding it closed.
Beneath the tie was a scar—the one she took when her old horse Jones had accidentally kicked her on the fateful day the Orcs encountered her at her house in the woods. Rhyse traced the scar with two fingers, then let his lips travel there as well.
He kissed her neck, brushing the bruise with his lips as he finally made it back to her mouth. He had been right, Jeren thought, this was a good diversion if one wished to think of nothing. Rhyse slipped his hand inside her shift.
Jeren wanted to scream when she again heard hoof beats. Rhyse pulled slightly away from her, rising up further on his elbow to see who it was that was causing him pain. He closed his eyes in a grimace as he realized it was their Chieftain riding toward them.
"Make yourself presentable, Jeren," Rhyse told her. "'Tis Aragorn."
"He will see me as I am, or not at all," Jeren said, obviously angry. Rhyse did not share her anger; he wanted to avoid more trouble at all costs.
"Will you do it for me, then?" he asked her. "I will bear the brunt of this, you know."
Jeren rolled her eyes and began fastening her shift together. Aragorn was upon them and had dismounted from his horse. He took in the scene, although by now, Rhyse was on his feet. Yet the Chieftain was not born yesterday—he knew what they had been about.
"Rhyse," Aragorn said, "your father needs you."
"But sir," Rhyse started, "I am off duty—"
"Go back to the settlement, Rhyse. Whether you are on duty or not, I want to speak to Jeren alone."
"Yes sir," he said. Rhyse looked at Jeren, his expression saying without words that he was sorry to leave her this way. She smiled at him, telling him in return she held no ill will.
As soon as Rhyse had ridden away, Aragorn said, "At least close your tunic while I am speaking to you. And rising would not be amiss, either."
Jeren did both, but it was apparent that she was not happy in the doing of it.
"Lord Aragorn," she said as she rose, "I am of age—I do not need a nursemaid to guard me from a man."
"I know you are of age, as you keep reminding me," he answered disdainfully. "And while a nursemaid might be exactly what you need, I think you may more need that whipping I did not give you before." He walked a short distance away, trying to control his anger. He turned back to her and said, "And it is not you that I worry needs guarding. What were you thinking, to allow that to happen? Or perhaps you weren't thinking at all. You are not in Rivendell, where you may caper with Elves if you wish. Rhyse is a young man."
"I do not 'caper' with Elves or anyone else, and I am well aware of Rhyse's state of being a man, Lord Aragorn," she answered coldly. "'Twas why I was kissing him."
"I can see I must spell it out to you, then," he said. "He is a young man, if not in love with you, he very much thinks he might be. Were he to have—continued with you—in the vein in which he was traveling today, he would have expected your hand in marriage. Are you prepared for that, Jeren? You might just be larking with him, passing the time. That is not how he sees it, I would venture to say."
Jeren was stunned. She had not stopped to think about these things at all. She did not love Rhyse. To lead him on might have occurred to her in the past, but it had been long since she'd given that any thought. Yet she was not ready to tell the Chieftain any of this—not at all.
"How do you know I do not have like feelings for him?" she asked Aragorn. "Mayhap I am prepared to go to him in marriage."
"Well you are taking the wrong path to get to your goal then," he answered her. "You would have his parents to contend with, should you become with child. Halbarad already gives you a wide berth and has counseled his son to do likewise. A grandchild out of wedlock would turn him more against you, I would think."
Jeren frowned. "How can he dislike me? He does not know me. How can he make such a judgment as this?"
"Use the sense the Valar gave you, Jeren!" Aragorn said unkindly. "All Halbarad knows is that he was embarrassed today—his son was disciplined for dereliction of duty. And he knows the reason why."
"I saved Elrohir from Orcs, is why!" Jeren said vehemently. "And his son did shirk his duty! Mayhap he could think of that, and not that I am a rule-breaker, shattering directives because it pleases me!"
Aragorn ran a hand through his hair, looking very much defeated. He had never been a counselor to a young woman, and if this is what it entailed, he wanted no further part of it. He continued, in a much softer tone. "We could go round in these circles for much time, it would seem. This is not why I came seeking you. Elrohir wishes to see you, in the twins' room in the hall. I told him the truth about the discipline today and I do not want him out among the men, spilling the details to them. So I came for you myself. You could be having this same conversation with him."
"You know I would not be," Jeren answered in her most sarcastic tone, though her temper was cooling. "Elrohir would not care would he have found me with Rhyse." She had finished retying her tunic and now headed toward Two, gathering the reins in her hand.
"Defiant to the last," Aragorn said. "What makes you so angry?"
Jeren led Two back to Aragorn, her expression now brooding, if not a small bit contrite.
She looked at him with regret in her eyes. "Would that my mother were still alive to guide me now." Her tone was full of melancholy and her voice trembled with unshed tears.
"Thank you, Lord Aragorn, for your counsel. You are right; I do not love Rhyse. I would not wish to be expected to marry him. I suppose there is much I should discuss with him, should our relationship continue. I apologize for my defiance. 'Tis been a horrid day."
Before he could see the tears that had filled her eyes spill down her cheeks, Jeren mounted her mare and rode back to the settlement.
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A/N: For any readers who might have A Simple Change of Heart on your alerts - I have been editing that story and in the process, I have managed to not only alert everyone there was a new chapter 17 - repeatedly, I'm afraid - but also to mess the titles of the chapters up to where they no longer have the correct titles to go with the correct chapters. The chapters are in order, the titles are wrong. I can't seem to figure out how to change that, so I might just have to delete the story entirely and upload it again. I've made no major changes - I certainly haven't added whole chapters - I've only tried to make it a little more reader friendly.
We have one more chapter to this story - Follow Your Heart.