A Consolation of Princes

Chapter 4: A Confluence of Contenders Part 2

Lord Amarthor abandoned his family and guests shortly after the meal in search of any essays in his collection on the topic of animal classification. Morwen didn't mind seeing the back of him. His presence wasn't necessary for her plan to succeed — and in fact, seemed to be detrimental — though she wished he had taken her mother with him. The heir to Rohan would have to fend for himself with the ladies under the eagle eye of Lady Gwereneth, who seemed seriously displeased with the conversation so far.

As the party shifted into Gwereneth's sitting room, Morwen recalled that she had meant to remember something. She could feel it like an itch that she couldn't reach all through the meal. It had pestered her ever since she greeted Thengel at the door to let him know about the first flush of her success on his behalf.

Morwen gave up trying to remember so that she could make sure to arrange Thengel and Húnil together on the sofa that stood the farthest from Gwereneth. Then she wedged herself in next to Thengel so she could supervise. It made for a tight fit. The couch really only held two comfortably and Thengel had broad shoulders.

"So, the two of you met at the wedding," Thengel said, giving Morwen a look that suggested he would play along, but that her choice of seating left much to be desired.

Húnil answered for Morwen. "Introduced, yes. But we met properly yesterday when this young lady helped me bribe Nahtar with a dish of liver. I ran out of dried sardines, you know."

"Morwen is nothing if not helpful," Thengel drawled.

"And she doesn't stand upon ceremony."

Thengel nodded. "I've noticed that too."

Morwen felt his elbow nudge her ribs, which might have been the result of the seating arrangements, but she returned the favor in case it wasn't. Her elbows were bonier so she felt she could win if a skirmish developed.

Húnil edged a little further against the armrest, adjusting her skirts. She addressed Thengel. "Morwen tells me you have a keen interest in taking on one of my cats."

Morwen sucked in a breath. That's what she meant to remember! Stars and sea kings. She bit her lip, waiting for Thengel to expose her falsehood.

A brief pause ensued. Then Thengel said, "Morwen is an expert in my interests. She sometimes knows them before I do," he replied, glancing glacially her way.

Morwen gazed back at him through large eyes that she hoped looked singularly innocent and perhaps claircognizant.

And slightly apologetic.

Thengel crossed his legs in an effort to take up less room. He leaned back as if to keep an eye on both women in the event of more surprises. "I have heard Ecthelion's enthusiasm for these desert cats."

Húnil swatted the air with an elegant though scratched hand. "Oh, my cousin has plenty of enthusiasm, but he has yet to take one on. I can't think why."

"I shouldn't think large cats would be very popular in Gondor," Gwereneth sniffed.

Húnil laughed despite her hostess's starched tone. "What, because of Old Berúthiel? Nonsense. It's doubtful even half of the stories about her are true. They sound like the propaganda of old men against a woman who refused to do as she was told and accept the fate handed to her."

Morwen's mother smoothed her skirts. Gwereneth did not look as if she wanted to continue contradicting her guest, yet could not help her instincts. Morwen found herself enjoying the interesting spot in which Húnil had placed her mother.

"That's hardly an excuse to go spying on people."

"If I had to marry some stuffy old king from another country," Húnil boomed good-naturedly, "I'd set my cats on people too."

Morwen choked and had to cough into her sleeve. When it didn't seem likely to stop, Gwereneth crossed the room to apply the usual treatment. Her mother's slaps on her back seemed to be weighted with bricks. Thengel squeezed off of the couch and brought Morwen something to drink from somewhere. She thanked him but decided it was best not to meet his eyes immediately.

While she finished her water, Thengel deposited himself into a chair next to Morwen, ignoring the look she shot him for evading her seating arrangements. His face looked serene as he pointedly did not meet her eye this time. Húnil gave a contented sigh as she allowed herself to take up more space on the cushion.

"What would you consider to be their advantage over the traditional pack of hounds or falcon hunting?" he asked Húnil, resuming the conversation, sparing Morwen the need to rush her recovery in order to play hostess.

"Oh well," she said in rounded tones. "On the one hand, cats are far more discrete than a pack of baying hounds. Quite patient when stalking their prey, totally silent, and then deadly fast once the timing is right. On the other hand, they're disloyal little bastards who won't come when called." She laughed merrily. "That's how I know the stories about Berúthiel can't be true, Lady Gwereneth. No cat would tolerate such treatment. They'd leave her for the first doorway offering milk and tuna."

"Undoubtedly, they prefer not to be herded." Thengel accidentally tapped Morwen's shoe with his boot. At least, she thought it was accidental. Still, she felt the hint of color rising on her throat. "I don't suppose they pack hunt, Lady Húnil?" he asked.

Húnil shook her head. "In the wild, lions may but not these smaller cats. They're loners. Understand, it isn't about an efficient hunt but the novelty, Thengel."

"It would have to be."

Húnil's eyes had an interesting glint in them that Morwen found promising. "Hounds and falcons and traps are all expedient methods for bringing in a variety of game, but where's the fun in the tried and true?"

"That's my feeling entirely," Thengel agreed.

Morwen felt the undercurrent was directed at her methods and stepped in to curb Thengel. The wretch seemed more inclined to laugh than to fall in love. Later she would remind him that he promised to cooperate. Until then, it fell to her to put all of Húnil's good qualities on display.

"When did you begin breeding cats?" she asked Húnil.

"About a decade ago, say a year or two after I came of age."

"What dedication," Morwen praised.

That put Húnil near the perfect age Morwen had predicted for Thengel's wife. She gave him a triumphant smile so he would know how well she had done. He cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling as if he was struggling to keep his composure. Morwen didn't blame him. It must be a little awkward to fall in love in her mother's drawing room in front of other people.

"It sounds like such a lot to manage on top of running an estate," Morwen noted. "You must have a trove of experience by now."

"A good deal, yes."

"Is it very expensive to raise cats like Nahtar?" Morwen asked.

Húnil snorted, causing Gwereneth to startle and look askance. "Oh, yes. What they consume in fresh meat alone could tip the balance in a household. It has to be raw if they can't hunt, you know, so best if it's butchered on the premises to avoid contamination and rot. Of course, in the spring I can turn them loose on the rabbits threatening to overrun Ecthelion's grounds. It's winter that generates the most cost. Fortunately, I'm not hurting for funds."

"How fortunate for you," said Morwen. "Don't you think, Thengel?"

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes but spoke to Húnil. "In your opinion, how do these large cats mingle with horses?"

"Ah, that would be a deciding factor for you," Húnil responded complacently. "It is said that the Southrons will ride into battle against one another with their cats in the vaward. But then, in the South, war horses and cats would be raised and trained together. Introducing a large predator to established herds? You will know better than I, Thengel, how that would go."

"I would definitely say it's best to introduce them young," he replied. "Otherwise you risk spooking them."

Morwen cleared her throat. "Are all of your cats black like Nahtar?"

Húnil grinned fondly. "Oh, a black coat is my preference."

"Mine as well," Thengel muttered.

"And that's what I breed for, but you get some lovely tawny spotted coats too. Those are the more natural coloring. I don't much care for a solid dun coat you get on the plains cats. Too common. Too yellow."

Thengel's lips twitched. "Hm. Sensible view of yellow."

Morwen regretted that Thengel now sat out of reach of her elbows.

"Of course, sometimes you can't help the way the kittens come out no matter how hard you try." Húnil shook her head even as she grinned. "I had a tom who used to get out of his enclosure regularly before I realized he had damaged the latch. Several litters turned out to be quite the mixed bag. He certainly gave me a lot of trouble."

"That's a tom for you," Thengel contributed.

"Do you sell many cats?" Morwen asked, shifting the conversation away from coloring and breeding. It wasn't going the way she had hoped.

"Not often. I breed them for love, not money. They're like children to me. I can be persuaded, however, to part with one or two if the buyer is worthy."

Morwen stirred at this. "What do you consider a worthy buyer?"

"Yes, everyone has their list," Thengel added.

Morwen's shoe accidentally tapped his boot. He covered his mouth as if prepared to listen very carefully. Morwen observed that he had his eyes fixed with great determination on Húnil, even if she had detected a certain rebellious tone. At last, the woman had piqued his interest, whatever might be going through his head.

"Well, they must take a big cat like Nahtar seriously. They're quite dangerous when not properly handled. If left to themselves, they could attack a person unawares and get into any manner of mischief."

Thengel nodded. "I could see that occurring, yes. Especially unawares." Another shoe tap. Then he said, "I don't suppose they're very good in a household, particularly the young ones."

"Oh, kittens will turn your house upside down," Húnil answered fondly. "And cats of all ages do shed all over the furniture and have a tendency to scratch. On the bright side, they do keep the bed warm."

"Happy thought," he said blandly.

"Have you considered moving the kennels to Minas Tirith where you might have more clientele?" Morwen interjected, feeling that Thengel might not be taking this information in the proper light.

"I could, but have you ever heard cats during their mating rituals? Huh. Very noisy lovers. The neighbors would complain about the caterwauling."

"Caterwauling?" Morwen asked.

Húnil imitated one of the sounds for their benefit. Gwereneth didn't seem to know which way to look. Morwen caught Thengel's eyes and gave him a smile that she hoped conveyed the message that she had found him a treasure. There wasn't a single woman in Gondor who had the talent to make a sound like that besides Húnil.

However, Morwen could also tell that her mother felt extremely ill at ease. To show Gwereneth that she had paid attention to her etiquette lessons, she directed the conversation away from the cats.

She addressed Thengel. "Húnil says that you've been renovating your home."

Thengel regarded her through eyes that seemed a little moist. "Yes, after twenty years it seemed like the time."

"What improvements are you making?" Gwereneth asked with a determination to prolong a subject she could tolerate.

"I have builders taking down some walls between bedrooms to put in a bath and a suite."

"These new bridal suites are becoming more popular," Húnil remarked.

Morwen stared at Thengel in surprise. "Is that specifically what they're called?"

"It's implied," Húnil answered for him. "Why else would you need room for a great big tub?" She winked at Morwen.

Morwen gave Thengel a considering glance. "Fascinating." She wasn't entirely sure what an enlarged tub had to do with anything, but this didn't seem like the time for an explanation. "What else are you having done?"

Thengel plucked at his collar. "The rest of the principal bedrooms will be patched and I've enlarged one or two of them."

"What, all of them have work? That sounds expensive," said Húnil. "Well, I suppose they haven't had much use since you purchased the place. How many rooms would there be in your house? You've just disposed of two with the new suite. That leaves another floor of spare rooms and a nursery or, I suppose that would be another spare room in your case. Quite an undertaking." Húnil nodded with the gravity of a woman who had long had the running of a house. "I suppose you have to sleep in the drawing room," she joked.

"No, that's having work done as well. I am told that the drawing room is outdated."

"That is a thorough gutting." Húnil harrumphed. "I suppose you sleep in the stables, then?"

"That is the natural habitat of uncouth Northmen," Thengel sniffed.

Húnil's lips curled. "So I've heard."

"What do you mean outdated?" Morwen asked, returning to the subject at hand. She had the feeling the two were flirting with one another, which was just as well, but she didn't like to be edged out while they were doing it.

He glanced at her. "The plaster is in poor shape and the floorboards are to be replaced. There's also some custom shelves I wished to have installed. I am told that the head of the house should sit facing west instead of east nowadays, so all the furniture will be shifted along with the lighting."

"Won't that be rather blinding in the afternoon?" Gwereneth said.

"My architect has talked of awnings."

"What if a person doesn't have any windows facing west?" Morwen asked.

"Move, I expect," he jested. "Fortunately, whoever built the house initially had some inkling of shifting fashions and put windows on all sides but the interior, of course."

"Lucky for you until the fashion turns toward interiors," Morwen replied.

He smiled at her. "Maybe by then tastes will shift from using rooms at all and everyone will entertain guests on the staircase."

Morwen laughed. "Why wait? You could start the fashion now. As a lord and heir to a throne, you are in a prime position to become a tastemaker."

"But I'm a bachelor," he reminded her. "None of the housewives will take my example very seriously."

Morwen gave him a meaningful look. "All the more reason to get a wife."

"So you've been telling me, Morwen."

Morwen thought her mother looked like she wanted to explore that comment and not in a good way, so she quickly asked, "Are you really sleeping in the stables?"

"And get trampled by Baranroch?" Thengel laughed. "No, there are some attic rooms I didn't have the heart or the coin to touch."

"Don't the servants mind?" It seemed like a lot of stairs to climb in order to look after him.

Thengel shrugged. "The alternative was pitching a tent in the courtyard. My housekeeper drew the line at field duty."

"Understandable," Morwen sympathized without having met the woman. "Why are you making all of these improvements now? Why not a year ago?" Then she hastily added, "or five years?"

They looked at one another for a moment.

"Five years ago it had not occurred to me," he answered. "And…a…there's the property value to consider."

Morwen squinted at him. "Since when…"

"Does he need any reason other than that it will make his home more comfortable?" Gwereneth said, either coming to Thengel's rescue or rebuking them both.

It was at that moment that Morwen realized they had inched out her mother and Húnil from the conversation. So much for etiquette. And one glance out the window to see the angle of the sunlight told her that their time was coming to a close soon. Gwereneth would insist on keeping the visit to the exact length dictated by propriety, even if Thengel wasn't properly primed to fall in love with Húnil yet.

"Perhaps we can continue our conversation another time," Morwen said. "It should be good weather for riding. Why not a little tour of the Pelennor? Do you enjoy horseback riding, Lady Húnil?"

"I adore a good gallop now and again."

"Excellent." Morwen smiled. "I'm sure Thengel could arrange it for us with the stables."

Thengel gave Morwen a look of surprise. She knew that he knew that she was not a great rider. But that was a virtue in this instance as it meant the intended lovers would speedily leave her behind.

"Would tomorrow suit you?" Morwen asked before he could argue or suggest a different idea.

"Oh, I can't tomorrow," Húnil drawled. "I've promised the afternoon to Ecthelion and then there's a smaller function at Tower Hall in the evening that Lord Turgon's insisting on. You'll be there, won't you?" she asked Thengel.

Thengel sighed. "Now that you've reminded me, yes."

"Oh." Morwen tapped her chin, considering how she could maneuver them from a distance.

Húnil misunderstood her abstraction. "Thengel or I could see about getting you an invitation. Ecthelion's wife should be able to fix it for us."

Gwereneth intercepted. "Our family has had quite the excitement with the wedding. I think we could use a quiet evening in."

Morwen pressed her lips into a thin line. Was this her mother's idea of penance? She should have realized the lack of lectures yesterday would come back to haunt her.

"Morwen's too young to need a quiet evening," Húnil protested with a laugh. "I would be happy to keep her in my care at the reception if you'd prefer to stay home. My waiting woman will be in attendance."

Morwen could tell that her mother did not think a woman who could caterwaul in a respectable house a fit chaperone, but she wasn't about to risk offending a cousin of the Steward.

"I suppose Morwen may go if an invitation were issued," Gwereneth surrendered, perhaps unable to think of a polite way to refuse.

"I would be so grateful," Morwen said to Húnil. "Do you know Thengel and I have yet to share a dance…" she stopped rattling on when she realize this was not helpful information.

Húnil glanced benignly between Morwen and Thengel. "Then you must have one," she told them.

"The first one, if you'll have me," Thengel said cheerfully.

Morwen regretted her idle chatter and knew she had to make a sacrifice here. "Oh, but perhaps you might not be able to secure another invitation. The two of you should get the first dance since that is guaranteed."

By the set of his jaw, Thengel looked inclined to be stubborn. Morwen blinked up at him in the way she would when she wished to maneuver Gaeron a certain way. After a moment Thengel turned away from Morwen and graciously asked Húnil for the first dance, which she accepted.

With that success, Morwen decided to see how far her luck could extend. "And then we can enjoy a lovely ride the day after. Perhaps Húnil could grace us with a demonstration of Nahtar's skills?"

Húnil grinned. "I'm always happy to show him off."

"Would the day after tomorrow suit you?" Morwen asked.

"Perfectly."

Morwen turned to her other guest. "Thengel?"

Thengel's shoulders might have drooped a little, but it was difficult to tell. "I'm at your disposal."

Morwen offered him a smile and murmured, "That's true."

…

Lady Húnil departed shortly after they had arranged their next two outings. Gwereneth, though pleading a headache, had the grace to escort Thengel to the door before she retreated up the stairs to her rooms. Morwen lingered in the hall with Thengel so she could offer some parting advice once her mother disappeared over the top of the stairs.

There had not been as strong a spark between her protégés as she had hoped. But then, Lord Amarthor's house seemed especially dampening to budding lovers. She reflected that might explain why Gaeron tended to seek out Tathren during their courtship rather than the other way around. Morwen should have considered that. Fortunately, however, a reception would be a very suitable place for Thengel and Húnil to express their admiration in an open manner. And after that? The seclusion of the slopes and terraces of the Pelennor would coax them the rest of the way out of their shells.

"Now that Mother's gone you can thank me for organizing everything so beautifully," she congratulated herself. Not counting the meal they'd just shared, of course. But there were always bound to be little mishaps, she philosophized.

Thengel looked more likely to jab her with his elbow again. "You certainly have everyone dancing to your own tune," he reflected. "Except, perhaps, for your father."

"It may be my tune, but it's for your benefit." Then Morwen said, baldly, "I think so highly of Húnil. Don't you?"

Thengel crossed his arms, regarding Morwen through his icy blue eyes. She had known him long enough not to be intimidated.

"She's a pleasant woman," he allowed. "A little eccentric, but I knew you'd have a nose for that. Still, I can't say I'm exactly ready to sign my heart over to her as eagerly as you might wish."

Morwen brushed her hair over her shoulder. "Anyone with specialized knowledge on a given subject may appear eccentric to anyone with a generalist's temperament," she intoned, somewhat reminiscent of Amarthor. "I'm only happy that I found you a partner that I'll enjoy getting to know better."

Thengel gave her a wry look. "Oh? I don't remember that from your list."

"It goes without saying, Thengel. I can hardly find you a wife that I can't tolerate. Once you are married, I will have to visit her instead of you."

"You have considered all the angles, haven't you," he noted dryly. "Although I question your judgment on the cats."

"A minor detail. Tomorrow you can observe her in a more romantic light without Father droning on and Mother wheezing in the corner. Don't write off my efforts just yet."

He uncrossed his arms in order to retrieve his overcoat from a servant who had been hovering nearby with it. Once they were alone again, he said, "I promise to keep an open mind tomorrow. Just remember the terms of our agreement."

"Yes. No hard feelings," she repeated. "Only consider that I know you very well."

"And yet with all of your interesting skills as a caricaturist," he responded with a trace of annoyance that she wasn't accustomed to. "Is it possible that you might display some willful blindness?"

Morwen's eyes widened as if to prove otherwise. "Not that I can see."

He shook his head.

"Now, don't worry too much about tomorrow." She patted his arm. "Just show her all your good qualities."

"Besides the crown, what are those?" he asked.

Morwen smiled. "Maturity and experience."

Thengel's expression shuttered.

She reached for his arm again. "Oh, and Thengel, you needn't try too hard to secure another invitation for me."

He scanned her face like a man looking for a potential trap. "And why not?"

"It isn't as if you need my supervision at your age," she answered lightly.

"No indeed," he replied almost tartly. "But remember I still have to make up for the iniquity of last year."

The reference to Thengel's absence affected Morwen like a pond after someone had drooped a stone into its smooth surface. She felt it drop and seem to ripple through her.

"Oh, that." Morwen waved a hand as she turned away to step toward the door so she could open it for him. "I shouldn't have mentioned it. You're forgiven for your absence if that helps."

"Well, I'm beginning not to forgive myself," he muttered, giving an oddly impatient jerk to his coat as he put it on. She worried he'd rip a seam if he didn't take care. He joined her by the door.

"If you're so plagued with guilt, then I suppose you could make it up to me." She held up a finger. "If you can bear to part from Húnil for a set."

Thengel gave her a look that could have been considered a glower on Gaeron. "I'll try not to let it kill me."

"Do you feel like it might?" That seemed like a definite sign of love. "Then I don't advise you to part with her for a moment. As this is love that we're trying to cultivate, you'd be forgiven for monopolizing her. I'm content to run interference on your behalf in the event that she's much sought after."

Thengel sighed and gave her arms a parting squeeze. "Until tomorrow night, Morwen. Try not to do anything too hair-raising…like showing up on my doorstep with a leopard."

"I wouldn't presume. Hold on." She fixed the collar of his coat that had gotten tucked underneath when he had forced it on earlier. She smoothed the fabric over his shoulders, then stepped out of his way on the threshold. "There. Until tomorrow…contingent on an invitation," she reminded him as he passed by.

"I guarantee you'll have one," he said over his shoulder.

Morwen stood on the step, watching the back of him as he crossed the dooryard toward the gate. "Don't go to any trouble," she called. "I did secure you that first dance with Húnil. The rest is up to you."

He waved without looking back.

After he disappeared beyond the gate, she shut the door behind her. As she went upstairs to her room, she cringed at the silly way she'd nearly bungled the whole thing by occasionally monopolizing Thengel's attention. She wasn't accustomed to sharing it with anyone but Gaeron. And what of bringing up last year? Leave it to a considerate woman like Húnil to mistake that comment about dancing as a need for assistance. Morwen decided to become really determined to forgive Thengel so that she wouldn't slip again. How hard could it be if she set her mind to it?