"I hate to hear you talk about all women as if they were fine ladies instead of rational creatures. None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives."

― Jane Austen, Persuasion

We dropped anchor in the bay at Dol Amroth almost a month later. The winds had been against us, and a hundred fishermen on a boat with nothing to do made for a frustrating journey. Prince Imrazor, as I discovered to be called, and some of his men, showed the fishermen some basic sword moves on the deck, when the sea was calmer, and otherwise they helped with the ship. Lind dined with the prince every day and brought back what information she learned. The men were anxious to begin their new lives as soldiers, but I loved being at sea for so long. The bright sunlight, the crisp wind, the sea breeze.

Most men were immune to seasickness, but I still could contribute, cleaning cuts and advising on treatments when we got to the mainland.

I was unprepared for when I landed. I was nervous but mostly excited, and had seen drawings in books of cities, but I had not thought it would affect me so much. Dol Amroth shone. A white lighthouse stood apart on a rock in the sea, as if to greet us, and the rest of the city lay high upon the white cliffs, looking down at us as the captain expertly navigated the rocky waters. Many skiffs and large ships with colourful sails were passing besides us, and we slowly turned into the harbour. I could see that corsairs would have a difficult time entering through the thick harbour walls, and the towers in Dol Amroth felt so high and impenetrable I wondered who would dare.

I was snapped out of my daydreaming quickly when we docked. It felt as if we islanders had all been shocked into silent reverence by this beautiful fairytale city, and suddenly brought into panicked awakening. We didn't know what to do and stood about feeling awkward until an old soldier leaped aboard the ship, gave the men a once over and a stern look and started shouting orders. They paused for a second and then scrambled to obey him. I waved goodbye, feeling oddly forgotten.

"See you later, Fish Girl!" shouted Denvy, as I hung behind Lind, waiting for my orders. I gave him a sardonic look and a wave. The prince helped Lind down the ramp himself, and I followed behind, carrying her cases of luggage, openly staring at everything and everyone. There were loud voices with strange accents I didn't recognise, and a few people speaking other languages including Sindarin, an odd assortment of clothes and fashion. In Tolfalas, the majority of us were very dark, with black hair and dark eyes, with the exception of Lind and her father, and I had never seen so many different hair colours before. It smelled of fish and the sea, but also some spices that I recognised from the kitchen at Lord Jakobi's hall.

Linda climbed into an ornate carriage with the prince, pulled by two white horses, and I followed in a simpler cart. We climbed through the streets, higher and higher until we reached the large palace at the top. Apart from Lord Jakobi's halls, I'd never seen any building over a storey high, but this architecture amazed me. Some buildings were hundreds of feet tall! If I had felt insulted at being relegated to being Lind's servant, it all washed away now. I felt so small, and a little shabby in my best dress, as the luggage cart veered away from the carriage and round the back. I watched as Lind held the prince's hand as she stepped down from the carriage, and up the large steps to the huge main entrance. A cave troll could have easily walked through the door. I had never seen anything on this scale.

Two footmen relieved me of Lind's luggage and skipped off with it. Feeling light, but a bit empty handed, I stepped through the servant's entrance. A disapproving woman with keys at her waist met me and took me through the dark servant's quarters and up four long spiral staircases, until I thought we were probably so high up we would be above the clouds. But we were just in the guest tower. Lind's quarters were large, even larger than her apartments in her own home, and looked out onto the beach and sea. My own quarters were a small sliver of a room next door, with a cot and one solitary chair. The life of a servant, I thought.

"Once you have unpacked your mistress's luggage, I will return and take you on a tour, and perhaps you can have some tea," said the woman, who nodded at me then turned on her heel and left. I'm sure I heard her mutter something about country folk on the way down.

I wasn't entirely sure what a ladies' maid was supposed to do, but I thought that unpacking would be easy enough. Lind's pile of luggage was stacked neatly against one wall, so I opened the first one up. It was entirely full of day dresses, so I hung them up. The next was shoes. The next three were evening dresses and amazingly, I found room in the various wardrobes around the room. I placed her harp on a table and arranged the music sheets around it. I was on my knees on the floor, about to make a start on the last few cases when I heard footsteps on the main staircase.

"What a mess," said Lind, storming into the room. I scowled, but didn't show her my face. I had been unpacking her possessions for almost an hour. "This is a very pleasant apartment," she said, approvingly. It was lovely, I thought. Her father's hall had always seemed refined and sophisticated, the pinnacle for taste, but I realised now that it was actually a very new hall. This architecture was old, and Elvish in design. Everything felt light, and beautiful. Except the servants quarters.

I made some sort of assenting noise and asked what she wanted me to do with her boxes. "Oh there is so much to do!" she cried, sitting down on the sofa, and taking her shoes off. She started talking about court etiquette, and visits to the nobles in the city, and a music hall she had heard about. She had just met Prince Imrazor's sister, who had deeply impressed on her the importance of making the right first impression at the Dol Amroth court. "And of course, I will need new dresses in all the latest styles," she said. I looked at her aghast. How many more dresses did one person need?

Lind had an afternoon nap, and I went to find the housekeeper. After a long tour of the labyrinthine servant tunnels, and a lecture on how Dol Amrothian servants are expected to behave ("impeccably!") and how they are supposed to do that ("silently!"), a discussion about Lind's food preferences and her schedule for the next few days, I was allowed one cup of tea, and a stale biscuit. I sat at the servant's long table in the kitchen, chewing thoughtfully, and watched as other servants my age giggled at me.

"We don't expect you to be up to our standards. At first," said the housekeeper, in what I'm sure was a kindly manner, but felt quite menacing. "But you will learn to meet them eventually."

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

Exhausted, I climbed the staircases to Lind's apartments to help her dress for dinner.

"I've got to look my best!" she said, nervously flitting between various dresses in the wardrobe. "Which one do you think is better? Oh, none of these look like any of the fashions I saw in the city this afternoon!"

"Why don't you wear your favourite dress? It would be good to stand out, surely?" I asked, holding out a couple. She made me iron three potential gowns.

"I have done my own hair as you're hopeless!" said Lind. I wanted to retort that I couldn't iron and dress hair at the same time, but I was knackered.

"You look lovely," I said, dutifully. And she did. Her red hair was naturally curly and the sea air had somehow made the curls bouncier. Her hair was half up and half down - she was right, I had no idea how to accomplish anything with my own hair let alone anyone else's. She finally chose a deep purple gown that made her look even paler and brought out her blue eyes. It was not one of the ones I had just ironed, so I quickly ironed out the creases and wrinkles it had picked up from being in a trunk for a month.

"Wish me luck!" she said, smiling and bouncing out the room. I was exhausted. Once again, I descended the small servants stairway to the packed kitchen, where I was treated to a small bowl of vegetable stew.

"Here you go, Tolfalas," said a middle aged woman who was probably the cook, throwing me a spoon. I caught it and smiled.

"Lady Lind is thinking of marrying the prince then?" asked an older servant. I looked up and realised everyone was staring at me.

"I don't think so, but she is grateful to him for accompanying her to Dol Amroth. The city is more beautiful than I could have imagined, and your prince is most gentlemanly," I said, nonchalantly.

"You've got pretty manners for someone from the backwaters, but your lady is much mistaken if a minor noble from Tolfalas will snare our prince," said another woman, heatedly.

They were quite territorial about their masters, I realised. I thought it quite likely that they were going to haze me. They didn't think either Lind or I were quite good enough to be in Dol Amroth. I certainly wasn't a very committed servant.

"I don't think there's an attachment there. Is he courting someone? And I've heard much of Princess Tinthel's elegance," I prompted. I hadn't, of course, as I didn't pay as much attention to the goings on of nobles and royals on the mainland, but I assumed a young, unmarried princess would be a safe topic of conversation where the servants could boast to their heart's content.

It had been a good distraction. Princess Tinthel was a firm favourite, and I found out that each of her dresses cost a hundred Castars. They were very pleased when my mouth fell open in shock, and I was encouraged to have a second helping of vegetable stew.

"What do the servants at Dol Amroth palace do of an evening?" I asked a friendly looking servant who had told me that she was a chambermaid.

"We use this time to mend clothes, darn socks, tidy and prepare for the next day," said a woman, a little derisively. I wasn't about to admit I had never been a servant before, but surely there were some differences between households?

"Can I go for a walk?" I asked, tentatively. Earlier, the housekeeper had been very clear about where I could go at what times to accompany Lind, and where I couldn't, and it all felt a bit muddled.

"Outside? You want to go outside?" asked the housekeeper, alarmed.

"I won't get lost, I promise," I said. But that wasn't the issue.

"We don't go outside, Tolfalas," said the chambermaid, patting my hand. "We work inside!"

"I will make allowances and open a window. This time," said the housekeeper, when I told her I missed the sea air. She cracked open a window in the kitchen, and I stared out the window, watching the sun set. The servants in the palace were prisoners, I realised. It was at that moment I decided that my days as a servant were numbered. I'd be damned if they'd thought they could control me like this.

The next day, Princess Tinthel spared a ladies' maid to take Lind shopping. We visited several shops, looking for fabrics, discussing styles and the old question, hats versus veils (neither, I thought), and what a lady needs for her hair. A seamstress, apparently the best in town, took her measurements and promised to call at the palace in a few days with the finished dresses. I trailed behind, ferrying packages to the carriage, and holding up things for Lind to look at. She was enjoying herself a lot and getting plenty of attention. The city seemed huge to me, but apparently not so large that a lady joining the household at the palace was not big news. I heard a lot of whispers as we walked about Prince Imrazor bringing her home to marry him, and how she had cast a spell over him, and had a dowry of 1000 Castors, and how the island of Tolfalas was in her dowry (unlike Dol Amroth, Tolfalas was not a principality but they didn't seem to know that), and how beautiful and mesmerising she was. She obviously heard that too, as she was preening.

As we walked around, I became more used to the sights and sounds of the bustling harbour city, but I couldn't find my bearings.

"Where are all the soldiers?" I asked, stupidly. I hadn't seen a single uniform.

"Outside the city," said Lind. "The prince said he will give me a tour soon. I told him I was keen to see how my men progressed."

It hadn't occurred to me that the fishermen turned soldiers were her men, that she represented Tolfalas and her father while she was here. As I lay on my fairly uncomfortable cot that night, listening to the wind, I wondered what it meant to be responsible for other people. It was a strange relationship between servant and master, I had discovered, and one I didn't like. Pretending to be invisible, and being ignored by the members of the household as they walked passed me in the halls, or talked to Lind, felt strange to me. I was, however, getting in a lot of curtseying practice, but it was less fun when it was obligatory. "Have your ladies' maid do this," they would say, not looking at me, and I would scurry away to fetch something for them, all the while not looking them in the eye. The servants worked hard and were fiercely protective of people who didn't even look at them.

I hated it. It felt so unnatural to me, but I supposed it was the way here. They wouldn't question it.

The responsibility I felt towards the men was different to Lind's. Not only did I know everyone by name, but I also knew their entire medical history. The responsibility I felt for them was to make sure they were healthy. That felt more important to me than anything.

The next day I met the princess, or rather Lind met her in the afternoon while I was following ten paces behind her in the garden. Tinthel looked like her brother; dark hair, grey eyes, tall, willowy and with a broad mouth that smiled often. She seemed friendlier and more personable than her brother, who I thought had been curiously distant. She invited Lind for a walk, and to my surprise and great happiness it was to be by the sea. I didn't think I would be allowed to go swimming ("allowed", I thought, with derision) but it would be a great joy to be nearer the sea.

I trailed along after Lind and the princess, as they walked along the beach. The life of a ladies' maid, I had realised, was dull, onerous and time-consuming but didn't involve much thought. This morning I had dressed Lind, brushed her hair, and now I was chaperoning her along a beach. It was like having a life sized doll, I mused, except I don't get to play with her. The princess was a little younger than Lind, and only had brothers so she was keen to have someone to gossip with. Once she had discerned that Lind had no designs on her brother, she was keen to talk about eligible men.

"I have not met him myself, but my cousin writes to say that Prince Isildur is the most handsome man she has ever seen," the princess enthused. "She wrote he was elegant, and refined, and had the most elegant manners."

"And unmarried?" asked Lind, nonchalantly. I almost snorted. She couldn't possibly set her sights on the future king of Gondor, I thought, incredulously. And yet, I had always known that Lind was ambitious. She was lovely, I conceded, even compared to the princess of Dol Amroth. Her looks were unusual. She was smart enough for court. She had a little practice at flirting, and she had certainly convinced the prince of Dol Amroth to put her up at his expense faily easily. What were kings looking for when they married, I wondered. Beauty? Love? Affection? Probably political power, I thought, money and influence. Lind had none of these things. Yet.

"He was born in Númenor, can you imagine?" said Tinthel, giddily.

"And Prince Anárion? Is he handsome, too?"

"He is a lot younger. I believe he is only thirty, while Isildur is forty but that is quite young for us Númenóreans."

"I am half Númenórean," said Lind. "My mother was Lindisse of Minas Tirith but my father's father was born on Númenor. He is almost two hundred years old."

Tinthel looked speculatively at Lind's red hair, but said nothing. I was surprised. I had no idea that Lord Jakobi was that old! I had thought he was fifty or sixty at the most, but I hadn't realised that either Lind or her father had the long life of the Númenóreans.

"But both will be king one day. Imagine! Two handsome eligible kings sharing the crown and ruling Gondor," Tinthel said, dreamily.

"They are both soldiers as well?" Lind asked. She had a calculating look to her. I almost sighed aloud. Lind's campaigns were exhausting, if successful.

"Yes, both are fighting, and they never come to Dol Amroth, but I believe they are in Minas Tirith and Osgiliath often. Our family plan to visit Minas Tirith in the summer," she said, brightly.

"Planning to be queen then?" I asked later when I was brushing Lind's long hair as I got her ready for another dinner with "the family" as they were called. She smiled in the mirror at me.

"I want to live in Minas Tirith when this war is over," she said, with a smile. "So I must know a little about the court, and that includes the princes."

Queen Lind! I wondered how the servants would react to Lind setting her sights on the king's son if they had thought Prince Imrazor was far above her reach. They might have an apoleptic fit. I considered telling them.

After a few days of ironing, helping seamstresses carrying dresses up and down staircases, and washing my two dresses in a bucket in a small room adjacent to the main laundry room, Lind finally announced that the prince would give her a tour of the barracks and the camp, and I was to chaperone. Finally, we might get to see the men, and hear another Tolfalas accent! I liked the Dol Amroth accent a lot; it was very pleasant on the ear, but I missed the rough islander accent. Perhaps I was a little homesick.

We went to the barracks by carriage with the prince cantering on a horse besides us. The barracks were behind the city, facing away from the sea.

"That's a lot of men," said Lind, when we alighted. The Dol Amroth camp stretched from the great city walls to as far as my eyes could see. There must have been thousands of green tents. The sheer scale took my breath away. Neither of us had seen so many people, so many men. We followed the prince as he strode to a large tent where other important looking men were conferring over maps laid on long tables.

"Prince Imrazor says that there are over twenty thousand men in the camp," whispered Lind. "They are to leave tomorrow morning."

The prince strode back with a young man trotting next to him.

"How are my men doing, your grace?" asked Lind, with a smile. "Are they making me proud?"

"Young Second Lieutenant Denlin here will lead us to the officer cadets from Tolfalas, Lady Lind, and I have only heard positive things about our new regiment," said the prince. We walked for ten minutes into the camp, passing soldiers in various states of array about campfires, drinking tea, and looking at us warily. Some looked new to fighting, and a bit wet around the ears, and others looked weathered but strong. I was acutely aware that we were the only women for miles, and felt the keen eyes of the soldiers on us, but no one said anything. It was quiet in the camp, which I thought was strange, but perhaps that was normal the day before setting off to war. I tried to imagine how that felt.

It wasn't long until we came upon our fishermen, who jumped up at the sight of Lind and the prince and stood to attention.

Denvy had a black eye and was grinning, but the man next to him looked a bit worse for wear. On closer inspection, it was Denvy's best friend Tolbot, and he was bleeding from his head, his cheek was covered in blood, and his eyes were half-closed.

"Take that man to the healer's tent," said the prince. Denvy saluted him and put his arm around his friend.

"Come with me to the healer's tent, Fish Girl," he said in a soft voice. I looked at Lind and she nodded, turning back to ask the prince something.

"What have you done to Tolbot?" I hissed.

"We got hold of some dwarven ale," he said, with a smile. "Makes you drunk, angry and violent."

"Good to know," I said, annoyed, wanting to shout at him for being reckless. I followed Denvy, wondering how he found his way when all the tents looked the same to me, but we quickly reached our destination. The healer's tent was long, open, and full of beds, mostly empty. A few men were sitting on them, one having a cut above his eyebrow stitched up by a healer in a white apron near us. More healers stood in a huddle on the other side of the tent, and I could hear them discussing the trek to the next camp.

"So what's the palace like?" asked Denvy, conversationally. I snorted, and looked through a box on the table next to us that had some cloth and some medical supplies in it.

"Crap, actually," I said.

"Sick of living like a princess?" he said, with a smile.

"Being a servant is no joke," I told him, wiping off the blood around Tolbot's face. There was a lot of bruising on his forehead, but it had already turned yellow.

"I feel like death," he muttered. I was glad he finally said something. It was a good sign.

"Head wounds always bleed a lot, you'll be fine, the wound seems to have closed already." I quickly set about cleaning it and Denvy gave him a flask of water to drink from. "Ideally, I'd keep an eye on him, but I know you're moving out tomorrow. Clean it again for him in the morning and he should be right as rain."

Denvy nodded and I asked him how the week of training had gone.

"Intense. I thought I was strong, and could hold my own in a fight, but these soldiers are something else, Minnow," he said, gravely. I looked up worriedly for my work. He had never used my given name before.

"What do you think you're doing?" said a thin voice, making us jump. A middle aged man in a white apron was glaring at me, his arms crossed.

"Cleaning this man's head wound. All done!" I announced. Tolbot murmured his thanks and stood up. The man pushed him back down.

"Are you indeed, and what gives you the right, or authority to do so? Healing is an art, healing is practice, healing is a science! Amateurs must not play about! You could have killed this man? Did you know that infection is more likely to kill a man than any orc!? Ha, likely not!" the man snapped at me, checking Tolbot's head with his long fingers.

"I know what I'm doing," I said, calmly, ignoring the man's theatrics. I knew he wouldn't find anything amiss. I had cleaned thousands of head wounds in my time.

"She's our midwife," said Denvy, proudly.

"Lady, the last thing soldiers need is a midwife," the man replied. "We may be in dire need of more healers but it's not so desperate as that! Get out of here!" Denvy put his arm around Tolbot and made to leave, and the man strode back to the group of other healers, who were packing up. I scurried after him, in a daze.

"You need healers?" I asked. He stopped and turned around to look me up and down. I looked him up and down as well. He was tall, and looked even taller in his long white apron. His hair was a dull grey, and shorter than men in Gondor usually wore it. He had grey eyes, and a lined face. Intelligence and annoyance were in his expression. I thought he was probably an excellent healer who had seen too much.

"Indeed I do. Ask me why," he demanded.

"No one is interested in the healing arts?" I said, cheekily.

"Healers must operate under fire, in the smoke of battle, with little resources. It is not for the weak-hearted. You need a very strong stomach for this job. We saw off men's legs, girl. You would throw up, or pass out in minutes on the battlefield. I need experienced healers, not a young midwife," he said, and turned away. I did not give up easily.

"I was also the village healer," I said, following him.

"What village?"

"Tolfalas. Almost four hundred people. Fishermen mostly. A hard life. Lots of broken bones, cuts, fevers, burns. And I treated the lord of the island, Lord Jakobi. His daughter will give me a reference," I said, hopefully.

"You're female," he said.

"How observant. Ah, the science of the healing arts!" I said, sarcastically.

"Do you know what orcs do to women?" he asked, angrily, turning on me. "Do you think you could protect yourself, if the line fell and the evilest creatures came upon you with blades and teeth?"

There was a pause while I collected my thoughts.

"Almost all the men of Tolfalas have volunteered. They had one week to train to fight. They're fishermen by trade. Gondor has asked them to go to war because it has need of them. I expect most won't survive. I know far more of healing than they do of fighting," I said softly.

He observed me silently.

"It's five silver pennies a week. If you save a lord, or someone important, the king gives you an extra penny. He's generous like that. If you survive the first week, then you'll probably survive the month, and then you'll probably be fine. The healers tent is usually right by the battlefield, and we move with the soldiers. There's a lot of travelling and most of it will be on foot. If you're foolish enough to still want to be a healer, be here at dawn. The company is moving out. We won't wait for you. My name is Thavron and you'll do everything I say, when I say it, and how I tell you to do it. Got that?"

He rolled his eyes when I saluted him, but I ran back to Denvy and Tolbot who were shocked at what I'd done.

"Is this wise, Fish Girl?" asked Denvy in a whisper as we returned to the Tolfalas tents. I smiled at him, but he didn't argue with me.

Lind was less than pleased when I told her that I was leaving to become a healer for the army later that evening.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" she screeched, standing up and staring at me in horror. "Didn't you hear Tinthel? She said we would go to Minas Tirith in the summer?! That is only a few months away. We could be at court, Minnow!"

I shrugged and handed her the earrings she had wanted to wear.

"Minnow, it's dangerous! It's war! You could die!" she said.

I shrugged again. I was trying not to think about that.

"I've been awful, haven't I?" she said, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. "Talking about marrying the king, what a stupid idea for a foolish girl, and buying half the silk in Dol Amroth to make dresses and being the frivolous, vacuous lady I've always wanted to be. I know you sleep in a cupboard, I peeked in there and it was so sad. I haven't taken you to the library once and I know that it's a big one! And we haven't even discussed a wage! We could go to the library in the morning! How about that?"

"I'm leaving in the morning, Lind," I said, softly. "I've decided. I'm not cut out to be a servant. I want more. I want to do something useful."

"You're my only friend on the mainland," she said, a tear sliding down her cheek. "I don't wish to lose you."

"With any luck you won't. I don't want to be in calm waters all my life, Lind. I feel certain that this is my adventure. Healing is my skill. I should use it."

"If this is to be your adventure, then I shall reconcile myself to it," she said, almost to herself.

"I may be going to war but you can write to me and tell me about shopping. I might be more interested in silk ribbons when I'm knee deep in mud and blood. And I expect an invitation and a good seat for your coronation." Lind snorted and we shared a smile. "And I want my wages for a week's worth of being a ladies' maid! Hardest week of my life!" I said with a grin. Lind threw a cushion at me.