Chapter 32

Dol Amroth

February 3020

Éomer watched anxiously as the sailors loaded the ship that would be departing in only a few hours. The night before he had spent tossing and turning. If he had been younger and not the king of Rohan he probably would have left that day, but he knew that Elphir had been right when he had convinced the rohir to wait for the ship. It would shorten the journey by at least half and they would begin in a town rather than at the border, heading to who knew where. It wasn't long before his solitude was intruded upon. To his left stood Erchirion. Éomer could see that, just like himself, the second son of Imrahil had not slept that night either.

"I owe you an apology." Erchirion sighed, never looking at Éomer. "Deep down, I always knew it was my own fault that my sister was hurting so much."

"I'm sure you were acting out of love." Éomer's face bore a sympathetic look. "I have made my own fair share of mistakes that has caused my own sister grief, even with the best of intentions. Béma, being so good, she has always forgiven me though."

"I think that I imagined it was love, but truly I acted in selfishness. Even from the very beginning. It is true that I loved her, and still do, but in the end, I always loved books more." His voice was raspy and Éomer thought he caught the glint of unshed tears in Erchirion's eyes. "Even from the beginning when Father told her she would go to Rivendell and I volunteered to go with her, it wasn't out of love or any brotherly devotion to be her only familial companion. I knew that Rivendell had many books I would have only dreamt of reading before. And even after we returned, I knew that she was lonely in Minas Tirith with nearly no one who understood her, and still," he sighed again, his breath shaky, "I left her alone to be with my books here." Finally he turned his eyes upward and met Éomer's. "I acted selfishly and told myself my actions were motivated by love, even when a part of me knew that what I was doing would hurt her more than giving her your letter." He turned away, casting his face downwards and Éomer could see tears fall from his cheeks onto the ground. "I don't deserve to be her brother."

Éomer stared at the man as he silently wept. Erchirion, who not even a full day before had made Éomer feel such hatred and then gratitude, now made him feel only pity. So many things echoed his own private thoughts from the past, only in place of books, he had placed his duty to Rohan above everything, even his family and love. It had left Éowyn alone to deal with the growing darkness not only in Edoras but also within herself. He reached out and gently touched Erchirion's shoulder.

"The past is the past. Help me find your sister and it will begin your journey to showing her and the world that you do care for her." Éomer looked to the horizon, "Dry your eyes, Prince of Dol Amroth. You are in the light of the sun and under its light, Béma be good, we will find what we seek."


The ship rocked as it began to pull away from the rising sun and into the Bay of Belfalas. The rocking was uncomfortable for Éomer but not so much that he would be sick. The same could not be said for Éothain. The poor man seemed to drape over the side of their ship like a decoration. There were a few other Rohirrim who had done the same but mostly they seemed like himself – a bit green in the face, but able to remain standing. Not a single Gondorian looked even the slightest bit uncomfortable. In the case of Elphir, he looked more at home standing near the helm, watching the crew go about their business, than he did back in the castle of Dol Amroth. When the prince noticed Éomer, he waved him, beckoning Éomer to join him. Éomer did, though once in a while the ship would hit a wave head on and jolt the ship, causing him to stumble.

"Still haven't found your sea legs?" Elphir smiled understandingly.

"I don't know if such a thing exists for a man of Rohan." He chuckled, though he had to hold back his nausea. It was then that he saw a flash of golden hair on the main deck. After further observation, he saw that it was Glorfindel walking among his men. He would touch some of them on the arm or hand and say something to them and they would seem to feel better. The few that were hunched over the side of the vessel were given a few sips from Glorfindel's water skin. Almost immediately after drinking the liquid, they stood as if they were on solid ground instead of the swaying ship.

"The power of the elves is nothing to be laughed at." Elphir's eyebrows were raised as he too watched the elf. "I was quite surprised when he declared that he would join us on our journey."

"I'm not." Erchirion's voice was clear and upon further inspection, Éomer could see that though his eyes were a bit puffy, he had collected himself. "Glorfindel and Lothíriel were quite close when she was in Rivendell. I would go so far as to say that she confided in him more than anyone else."

Éomer felt a newfound appreciation for the golden-haired elf. After a few moments of silence, he spoke. "Both you and Prince Imrahil mentioned that by taking a ship we would greatly shorten our journey. But how long exactly will we be on this ship?"

"That depends entirely on the wind." Elphir pointed to one of the sails which was billowing outwards. "If it keeps up as it is right now, we'll be approaching the coast of Harad within two days, but even if the wind did die on us, and the crew have to row all the way it won't be longer than four or five days if we use the tide wisely and the wind does not set against us."

"Then we won't be making for Umbar?" Erchirion questioned. "The haven is well known for being a good place to start when you've come from Gondor."

"That may be true," Elphir nodded, "but if we traveled all the way there, we would have to find our way through the dense jungles of Far Harad. Instead, we'll take the river Harnen which acts as a border between the Sutherland and Harondor until we have come to the town of Khätif. Not only is it on the river, but also on the main road through Harad."

"If we stop there, we'll be able to resupply, and by taking the road, it'll be easier on the horses." Éomer nodded. Erchirion and Elphir continued their discussion but Éomer wandered away, checking on his men. He was glad to see that each of them were feeling better, in a few hours, even he began to feel a bit more steady on his feet.


The Great Sand Sea

February 3020

Lothíriel was sitting at the fireside with a child in her lap when she heard someone approaching her. She turned to see it was Zwendi. She smiled in greeting. He looked menacing as always, though that menace was always weakened when she looked at the cluster of young children who always trailed after him, giggling and chattering among themselves as well as to Zwendi. She had not been surprised that the children of his own tribe had not been afraid of him, but when they had come to an oasis and met with another tribe, the children there too seemed to have no fear of the man. Currently, a little girl, no older than four, was hanging onto his leg and in fact sitting on his very foot so he had to pick it up a bit higher with ever other step so as not to drag the girl along the ground. The little one on her own lap scrambled off of Lothíriel in excitement when she saw some of her friends and went, babbling to them excitedly.

After learning more about Zwendi and his tribe, Lothíriel was even happier than before that she had saved them from the fate Na'man had planned. In fact, after some discussion from Fa'essana, Lothíriel learned that not only was Zwendi a fair and kind chief, but also that he had refused Sauron during the war. His tribe had been strong enough, and Zwendi had been clever enough to avoid conflicts with several nomadic tribes that had sided with Mordor, but he had also made peace with them afterwards, helping to begin trading among the nomads.

"You are," he hesitated as he struggled with the word. His eyes turned to Fa'essana, "vejaj?" In the weeks that they had been traveling together, Zwendi and a few others from the tribe had begun to learn Westron after discovering that Lothíriel didn't speak kahla joum.

"Well," Fa'essana answered. Her cheeks reddened under Zwendi's gaze. He did not look for long before turning back to Lothíriel.

"You are well?" His accent was very thick, and if Lothíriel had not spent as much time listening to the people speaking kahla joum, she probably wouldn't have understood his Westron.

"Kete ur vejaj, Chinnekom. " Lothíriel pronounced each word carefully. Zwendi's eyebrows lifted in surprise and nodded. "Where are we heading?" His eyebrows came together.

"What is heading?" Zwendi looked back to Fa'essana.

"Ponwemaa," She licked her lips before continuing. "Heading is another word for traveling in Westron."

"Or kolb peshkashee lilip ve cusras cuskrasaa. " He muttered to himself in frustration before answering slowly in Westron. "We travel to Khätif. After Na'man comes and dies, you are closer to Gondor. Closer to home."

"How do you know if he's found us yet?" Hind, who had been silent all this time asked. Zwendi didn't say a word. Instead he simply pointed upward where a single black bird was circling above the camp. It was a raven.

"I know." He said, his voice low and some of the menace that had lessened in the presence of the children returned.


Yusraa's eyes were glazed over when Na'man entered her tent. She sat with her legs crossed on a thin pillow with little else in the space. The sticks of smoldering incense, and a lit candle as well as a single blanket were the only things in her small tent. Her mouth was parted only slightly, and if he had not known better, he would have thought she wasn't breathing. They had been following the Oracle's trail for at least a week. He was glad that she had finally shed her disguise and he now was able to track who he was hunting. Each day that passed he grew more and more impatient to get her back. And with that impatience, his increased resolve to show her the consequences of running away from him. Thankfully, they were only a week or so behind since his men were able to pack up and leave quickly enough while the tribe the Oracle had been traveling with had women and children as well as the elderly.

"They know that I am watching them." Yusraa's eyes were still glazed and her tone was flat. Her mind and eyes were still in the bird. It was not wise for a bird woman to remain in the consciousness of her bird for as long as she had. Indeed, she wouldn't have remained for this long if Na'man had not been the one to tell her to do it. He knew that she would do anything for him. He could tell by the fact that her purple eyes were no longer the shade of amethysts but instead of lavender that her very spirit was being drawn into the bird, and soon all that would remain with him would be an empty shell. Na'man didn't really care if she died in the process, but until he found another bird woman to replace her, he knew he had to be careful.

Giving an almost silent sigh of irritation, he bent over and gently kissed Yusraa's lips. "Leave them for the night. You can return in the morning." He mentally reminded himself that Yusraa was a particularly talented bird woman before deepening the kiss. The glaze cleared and her body relaxed from the position she had been in for hours. She returned the kiss in kind, wrapping her dark arms around his neck and letting her fingers feel the back of his head as they tangled in his hair.

He knew that she loved him. He had been unsurprised years ago when she had confessed after a long night together. It was to be expected. Thinking back on that night made his blood heat within him. Ending the kiss, he gave her a hand and helped her stand. It had been too long since he'd had a woman in his bed anyway.

"Join me in my tent and let me show you what a good job you have done." He pulled her after him as they left her tent behind.


Khätif

March 3020

The city was a burst of color. Unlike Târêt there were no walls and circling the city were tents belonging to several different tribes. Each were grouped together, and while some had a good amount of distance between the groups most seemed to mingle freely with each other. The river was constantly busy with several large boats and small ships anchored as well as men and women who gathered water in jugs and water skins. Many of the people they passed openly stared at Lothíriel as she travelled in along the southern road, though as she came closer to the river, she saw that there were plenty of people of both light and dark skin mingled throughout the city.

Some of them recognized Zwendi and came forward to greet him. Many of the women who greeted him also batted they eyes at him and gave knowing smiles. Out of the corner of Lothíriel's eye, she could see Fa'essana gritting her teeth. Glancing towards the sky, Lothíriel saw no sign of the raven, though she had been able to spot it ever once in a while in the week that it had taken them to reach Khätif. After searching for a few hours, the tribe had found a good place to set up their camp close to the bank of the river. After helping to prepare not only the tents but also the tribe's cooking fires, Lothíriel saw some of the tribe's women walking towards the city.

"We should go and explore!" Fa'essana said excitedly. "I've been here before, several years ago."

"I don't know if that would be wise." Lothíriel looked towards the city. She did want to go and see the inner city as well as walk along the river, but knew the consequences if Na'man had somehow caught up to them already.

Hind, who must have been thinking the same thing as Lothíriel nodded her agreement. "We haven't seen Cel in a while. That may mean two different things. Yusraa has died or Na'man no longer needs her raven to find us."

"I still want to show you the city." Fa'essana huffed, crossing her arms. It was at that moment that Zwendi joined them. He looked at Fa'essana first who blushed and unfolded her arms.

"Is something wrong?" His question was directed at Fa'essana but when she remained silent, Hind answered.

"We wish to go into the city but are wary of the wrong people seeing us." At her explanation, Zwendi nodded, calling out three names. As many men came forward. Each carried a spear in their right hand, had a curved sword on their left hip and the handle of a knife stuck out of their right boots. These were the guardians of the tribe.

"Lissas vepe sanve ve gonkeft, sok ril rem saksar vik emasta ut urn cunnan vepe. Nep vels beh kajalohn, siat vepe, sok nep ut kosol ve pestat woh Târêt, sodonop vepe ezerst corrontou. Saksar ersast for kosolee ut lepros vepe pepsor or for rov lissas." The men nodded as Zwendi turned back to the women. "Go now with no fear."


Lothíriel didn't know how they had ended up at the docks, nor did she know why the ship that was anchored nearby with the figurehead of a swan seemed so ordinary. The craftsmanship was more amazing than anything else near it. The swan looked as if it was about to take flight, taking the ship along with it. But at the same time, it was as if she had always looked at things like it. Before she knew it, she was walking closer to the ship until the crowd of people blocked her path. After a few moments, her friend's voices called to her. It was nearly sunset and they needed to head back to the tribe. She turned around and began to walk back towards them, though she never took her eyes from the swan until she directly bumped into someone.

The man who stood before her was several heads taller than herself with long golden hair and strikingly deep, blue eyes. He stared down at her as if he were seeing a ghost. She would have felt strange if nearly everyone who had met her in the past few months had not reacted similarly. The voices of Hind and Fa'essana called out to her, recalling her sense.

"I apologize sir," she smiled sweetly before deftly stepping past the large man and moving through the thick crowd until she reached her friends who led her away from the docks and back through the alleys and backstreets towards their camp.

Translations:

Kete ur vejaj, Chinnekom. - I am well, Chief.

Or kolb peshkashee lilip ve cusras cuskrasaa. - So many words have the same meaning.

Lissas vepe sanve ve gonkeft, sok ril rem saksar vik emasta ut urn cunnan vepe. Nep vels beh kajalohn, siat vepe, sok nep ut kosol ve pestat woh Târêt, sodonop vepe ezerst corrontou. Saksar ersast for kosolee ut lepros vepe pepsor or for rov lissas. - Follow them into the city, but do not make it known you are with them. If there is trouble, aid them, but if you see the snake of Târêt, bring them back immediately. Make sure he sees you take them away so he will follow.