Disclaimers: I don't own any characters or settings from Lord of the Rings.

Act VI

Chapter 43: Preparations

The next morning, Arien woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. The room was filled with a gentle, golden glow, and she stretched languidly, feeling the ache of travel and battle in her muscles. She lay still for a moment, listening to the distant sounds of the waking city, and allowed herself a brief moment of peace before the day's tasks began.

With a deep breath, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, feeling the coolness of the wooden floor beneath her feet. She moved to the washbasin, splashing her face with cold water to shake off the last remnants of sleep. The chill was invigorating, and she felt more awake as she dried her face with a soft towel.

Arien dressed quickly, pulling on her leggings and shirt, and lacing up her sturdy boots. The familiar feel of her travel-worn clothes was comforting, a reminder of the many journeys she had undertaken. She decided to leave the borrowed dress and slippers neatly folded on the bed, a small token of gratitude for the hospitality she had received.

She began packing her belongings, carefully folding her clothes and tucking them into her bag. She moved with practiced efficiency, her mind already turning to the journey ahead. They needed to pack lightly and travel swiftly to reach Rivendell in time to return for Aragorn's coronation. As she finished packing, a knock on the door startled her.

"Who is it?" she called, moving toward the door.

"It's Gimli," came the gruff reply.

Arien smiled and opened the door to find Gimli standing there, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. He looked up at her, his bushy eyebrows knitting together as he took in her ready state.

"Morning, lass," he said, stepping into the room as she moved aside to let him in. "You're up early."

"Morning, Gimli," she replied, closing the door behind him. "I have to be ready for the journey back to Rivendell."

Gimli nodded, his keen eyes studying her face. "Aye, I figured as much. But tell me, why Rivendell? What's so urgent that you have to leave now?"

Arien hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before she met Gimli's eyes again. "It's because of Arwen. She will be crucial to Aragorn's success, and I want to be part of bringing her to him."

Gimli's curiosity deepened. "Why is this so important to you, Arien? There's more to it, isn't there?"

Arien took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. She walked over to the door and quietly closed it, ensuring their conversation remained private. Turning back to Gimli, she met his gaze with a seriousness that silenced his questions.

"There is something you should know, Gimli," she began, her voice steady but soft. "I did not grow up in this world. I was sent to another realm and was called back again... my true identity... I am Elrond's daughter."

Gimli's eyes widened in surprise, but he said nothing, sensing that she had more to reveal.

"I've kept this secret for a long time," Arien continued, "partly because I was trying to find my place here. But now, with the war over and the need for unity stronger than ever, I feel it's time to stand by my family. I want to be there for my sister on this very important day, to support her and Aragorn as they start this new chapter."

Gimli nodded slowly, absorbing her words. "I see. You've carried a heavy burden, lass. And you've shown great courage in revealing the truth."

Arien smiled, a warmth spreading through her heart at Gimli's understanding. "Thank you, Gimli. Your friendship means a lot to me."

Gimli stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You have my support, Arien, now and always. Family is important, and so is standing by those you care about."

Arien felt a surge of gratitude and relief. "Thank you, Gimli. It means more than you know."

They stood there for a moment, the bond of their friendship strengthening in the quiet morning light. Gimli's presence was a comfort, a reminder that she was not alone in her journey. Together, they would face the challenges ahead, united by their loyalty and shared purpose.

"Now," Gimli said, breaking the silence with a grin, "let's get you ready for the road. You've got a journey ahead of you, and I'm not one for dawdling."

Arien laughed softly, feeling lighter than she had in days. "Right you are, Gimli. Let's get to it."

As Arien was meticulously packing her belongings, she suddenly paused, realizing something was missing. She sifted through her things, but her homemade powder was nowhere to be found. This powder, a blend of lemon eucalyptus to ward off mosquitoes, mint, and basil to deter ants and flies, and rose geranium for other pests, had always been a reliable companion on her journeys, creating a natural barrier against the nuisances of the wild.

She sighed, a hint of frustration crossing her face. "Gimli, I just realized I'm out of my homemade bug-repellent powder," she said, turning to her stout friend who was leaning against the doorframe, watching her pack.

Gimli raised an eyebrow. "Aye, and what exactly is in this powder of yours?"

Arien listed the ingredients with a rueful smile. "Lemon eucalyptus, mint, basil, and rose geranium. It keeps all sorts of pests away."

Gimli nodded thoughtfully. "That does sound useful. Have you checked with the kitchen staff? They might have some of those herbs."

Arien's eyes lit up with hope. "Good idea, Gimli. Let's go ask."

Together, they hurried down to the kitchen. The scene was one of controlled chaos as the staff bustled about, organizing the remnants of the previous night's festivities. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread and simmering stew, mingling with the sharper scents of various herbs and spices.

Arien approached a young maiden who was stirring a large pot. "Excuse me," she said politely. "Do you have any lemon eucalyptus, mint, basil, or rose geranium?"

The maiden looked up, her face flushed from the heat. "I'm sorry, miss, but we're all out of those. The festivities used up most of our supplies. However, you might find what you're looking for in the market down in the lower alleys. There are a few families from Harad who sell herbs and spices."

Arien thanked the maiden, her hopes dimmed but not extinguished. She turned to Gimli, who was already halfway through suggesting they head to the market when she stopped him.

"It's fine, Gimli," she said with a reassuring smile. "I can handle this on my own. You have a meeting with Legolas and Aragorn, remember?"

Gimli hesitated for a moment but then nodded. "Very well, lass. Be careful, though."

Arien retrieved a few coins and her from her belongings. After ensuring everything else was in order, she made her way through the castle and out into the city. The streets of Minas Tirith were still bustling, though the scars of recent battles were evident. Broken walls and charred buildings spoke of the fierce conflict that had only recently ended.

As she descended through the tiers of the city, the noise and smells grew more intense. The market in the lower alleys was a vibrant mix of activity and recovery. Stalls were set up, though many were still in the process of being rebuilt. The smell of fresh produce mingled with the pungent scents of spices and herbs, creating a heady aroma that filled the air.

Arien navigated through the market, her eyes scanning the various stalls. Vendors called out their wares, and the sounds of haggling filled the air. She finally spotted a stall with an array of herbs and approached the vendor, an elderly woman with kind eyes and a weathered face.

"Good morning," Arien greeted. "Do you have lemon eucalyptus, mint, basil, and rose geranium?"

The woman nodded, a smile spreading across her face. "Aye, we have those. They're not in large supply, but I can spare some for you."

Arien thanked her and exchanged a few coins for the herbs. As she pocketed the small bundles, she felt a sense of relief. The city might still be healing, but life was moving forward, and small comforts like her homemade powder would help in the days to come.

Making her way back through the bustling market, Arien absently fingered the small bundles of herbs she had acquired, mentally calculating how much of each ingredient she would need for her powder. She ventured deeper into the lower alleys, her mind preoccupied. The surroundings grew increasingly dingy, the cobblestones uneven and littered with debris. The air was thick with the scent of refuse and decay, and the buildings loomed closer together, casting long shadows that shrouded the narrow streets.

As Arien turned a corner, she heard voices. Pausing, she listened intently. A group of men stood huddled in a darkened nook, their low voices carrying just enough for her keen hearing to catch snippets of their conversation.

"...I can't believe we're supposed to accept him as king," one of the men grumbled. "Aragorn's no son of Gondor. He grew up with elves..."

Another voice chimed in, dripping with disdain. "Aye, how can he understand us? He speaks their language, and thinks like them. What kind of king keeps company with elves and dwarves?"

Arien's brow furrowed as she listened. She knew that not everyone in Gondor would be pleased with a change in leadership, but the vehemence in their voices was troubling. She edged closer, her curiosity and sense of justice piqued.

"He'll bring nothing but trouble," the first man continued. "A king should be a man of Gondor, someone who understands our ways. Not someone who has spent his life among the Firstborn."

Her patience snapped. Stepping forward, she interrupted their conversation, her voice steady but firm. "You are wrong. Aragorn is not just a man of Gondor; he is a man of all Middle-earth. He has proven himself in battle, shown wisdom and compassion, and he will be a great king."

The men turned to face her, their expressions darkening. They were large, muscular men, their faces hardened by years of toil and conflict. The leader of the group stepped forward, a sneer curling his lips as he took in her elven features.

"An elf, defending the so-called king. How fitting," he spat. "What do you know of our ways, elf? You don't belong here."

Arien held her ground, her eyes blazing with determination. "I know that Aragorn is a man of honor and courage. He has fought for this land and its people, just as much as any of you."

The men's hostility intensified. They closed in on her, their movements menacing. Arien instinctively reached for the hilt of her sword, only to remember with a sinking feeling that she had left it behind, thinking she would not need it in Gondor.

"Look at her, trying to play the hero," one of the men jeered. "Let's teach her a lesson about meddling in men's affairs."

Arien took a step back, her heart racing. She felt a sudden presence behind her and turned, colliding with something solid and unyielding. She looked up to find herself staring into the familiar, stern face of Legolas.

Without a word, Legolas grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind him, stepping between her and the advancing men. His eyes were cold and unyielding as he faced them. "Step back," he commanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Or you will regret it."

The men hesitated, taken aback by the elven warrior's presence and the authority in his voice. Sensing the tension, they muttered curses under their breath and slowly backed away, disappearing into the shadows.

Legolas turned to Arien, his grip on her wrist firm but not harsh. "What were you thinking, wandering into such a place unarmed?" he scolded, his voice a mix of exasperation and concern. "You could have been seriously hurt."

Arien pulled her wrist free, her pride stung. "I couldn't stand by and let them speak ill of Aragorn. He deserves better."

Legolas sighed, shaking his head. "Your loyalty is commendable, Lady Arien, but you must be more cautious. Gondor is still fraught with dangers, even with the war won."

They walked back towards the main road, their footsteps echoing in the narrow alley. Arien could feel the tension between them, the argument simmering just below the surface. "I know you mean well, but you can't always rush headlong into danger," Legolas continued, his tone softer now. "There are times to fight and times to be prudent."

Arien opened her mouth to retort but stopped herself. He was right, and deep down, she knew it. She nodded reluctantly. "I understand. I will be more careful."

Legolas's expression softened, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Good. Now let us return. We are running late for our departure."

As they made their way back to the bustling heart of the city, Arien couldn't help but reflect on how Legolas had managed to show up and find her. When he arrived, he seemed calm and composed, not even out of breath. How had he known where to find her? Despite their frequent arguments, there were moments when Legolas's actions left her unable to stay angry with him.

What Arien hadn't realized was that Legolas had actually sprinted through the market to reach her. The alleys were long, and he had to cover quite a distance. Fortunately, the men's loud voices had reached his keen ears. By the time he arrived, he had masked his worried expression, adopting a protective stance instead. The feeling that surged within him was more intense than mere concern for a friend; it was something deeper, something he couldn't quite explain.

As they approached the palace, Legolas glanced at her, his tone half-teasing but laced with genuine concern. "Next time, bring your sword. And try not to start any more arguments with strangers."

Arien laughed, the tension between them easing. "I'll do my best, Prince Legolas."

When she finally returned to her room, Arien set the herbs down and began to prepare the powder. The familiar task was soothing, grounding her in the present moment. She carefully measured out the lemon eucalyptus for mosquitoes, the mint and basil to deter ants and flies, and the rose geranium for other pests. As she mixed the ingredients, she felt a sense of accomplishment.

The room was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, casting a golden hue over her workspace. She finished preparing the powder, feeling more relaxed and ready to face whatever lay ahead. The simple act of creating something useful with her own hands provided a much-needed sense of normalcy. She set the finished powder aside, feeling a quiet satisfaction. She was peaceful, knowing she had done something to protect herself for the journey ahead.

As Arien sat in bed, a soft knock on the door brought her on her to her feet and called out, "Come in."

The door creaked open to reveal Elladan, his expression serious yet gentle. "Arien, it is time. We must leave now if we are to travel by night."

Arien nodded, feeling a surge of anticipation and a hint of nervousness. "Thank you, Elladan," she said, her voice steady. "I'll be ready in a moment."

Elladan watched as she moved about the room, ensuring she had everything she needed. "Take your time, sister. The horses are being prepared as we speak."

Arien secured her sword at her side, a comforting weight against her hip. She grabbed the pouch of freshly made insect-repellent powder and her small pack of essentials. She opened the door, and Elladan was still there, waiting patiently. "Let's go," she said, giving him a determined smile.

They walked down the corridor, the palace now quieter as the night settled in. The festive atmosphere had dimmed, but a sense of peace lingered in the air. They made their way to the courtyard, where Elrohir and Legolas were already waiting with the horses.

They mounted their horses, and Arien took a deep breath, feeling the cool night air fill her lungs. The sky was clear, stars twinkling brightly above them. The city of Gondor lay behind, a beacon of hope and resilience.

As they rode through the streets, Arien couldn't help but reflect on the events that had brought them here. The battles, the sacrifices, the friendships forged in the fires of war—all had led to this moment. The road to Rivendell would be long, but she felt ready to face it with her companions by her side.

The journey began in silence, the sound of hooves on cobblestone echoing through the empty streets. They made their way out of the city, heading towards the open road. The night was cool and crisp, perfect for traveling.

Arien rode next to Elladan, with Elrohir and Legolas close behind. The landscape around them gradually changed as they left the city, the signs of war becoming less frequent. Rolling hills and verdant forests began to emerge, a reminder of the beauty and peace they fought to protect.

The rhythmic motion of the horses and the cool night air were soothing, and Arien found herself lost in thought. She thought of Arwen, of the role she would play in Aragorn's reign, and of the challenges that lay ahead. Her determination grew stronger with each mile they covered.

As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, they paused for a brief rest. The group dismounted, stretching their legs and sharing a quiet meal. The bond between them was unspoken but strong, a testament to their shared experiences and mutual respect.

As they resumed their journey, the sun began to rise, casting a golden glow over the landscape. The road to Rivendell was long, but with her companions by her side, Arien felt ready to face whatever lay ahead. The journey was just beginning, and with it came the promise of new adventures and new challenges.

((Upcoming Chapter Forty - Four))

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