šššššššš šššššš
I am a rational creature speaking the truth from her heart.
ā Jane Austen, Pride & Prejudice
Elwen flung the carriage open and a footman appeared to help her down, but I pushed him aside and threw myself at her. She embraced me tightly back and for a brief second, I felt completely at peace.
I had missed her so much.
Talking nonstop, I proudly showed her what I had built. Elwen condescended to be introduced to Sylvie and Lucie, and my ragtag group of rather filthy (but healthy) children who wanted to show me a new patch of Athleas they had found. I showed her our workshops and our tubs of Athelas paste. She said she had seen it in the markets in Arnor, but hadn't guessed it was made in Cardolan. After a tour of the village, and dinner in the halls with some of the villagers, I felt exhausted from all the talking.
As we hadn't prepared a room for her, and putting her up in the tavern would not have gone down well, Elwen was to sleep in my bed with me - which also meant we could speak privately. My bed was large enough for quite a few people. I realised that while I hadn't stopped talking for hours, about my plans for Cardolan, why we would not pay taxes, and how we managed to survive the winter, I had avoided the topics of myself and how I got here.
I knew Elwen would have questions.
"When did you leave Lindon?" she asked, when we were finally alone. I set the candle down on the bedside table.
"Months ago, in the autumn," I admitted. It was strange to think I had been in Cardolan for so long. Sometimes it felt like just yesterday that I had arrived here on my horse, exhausted and heartbroken.
"What happened, Minnow?" she asked, softly. I looked at her, and the concerned look on her face broke me. I burst into tears again, and sobbed hard. She wrapped me in her arms and stroked my back, trying to soothe me. Eventually, hiccuping, I calmed down and explained what had gone down in Lindon.
"It just went from bad to worse . Galadriel wanted Glorfindel for a son-in-law, and made trouble for us. But it wasn't just her. I didn't live with the humans, and I didn't fit in with the Elves. Glorfindel was away a lot. Fighting orcs. Gil-galad told Glorfindel not toā¦ flaunt me. So I worked or stayed in Glorfindel's house. And a manā¦ he beat his wife so badly their baby died and so did she. Everyone blamed me. I had to stop my lessons with Elrond. And then I couldn't treat anyone."
"Not everyone would have blamed you. Elrond has a high opinion of you, he knows you're an unparalleled healer," said Elwen.
I sniffed.
"There's more. A group with torches came to Glorfindel's house when he was on patrol. They wanted to kill me."
Elwen gasped.
"They were chanting things like "Elf fucker" and "Elf slut". They were going to burn the house down. But his siste and mother stayed with me. And then Glorfindel came. They were banished. But I was put under house arrest. I was not to leave the house for five years."
Elwen's face looked shocked in the candlelight. "Five years?"
"Glorfindel and I had such big fights. He isā¦ was ā¦ terrified of me dying," I said, with a sigh. "He wouldn't let me go with him on patrol even though they needed a healer. He wouldn't leave Lindon. I wanted to go somewhere else. Somewhere where we could be together. Butā¦ he has his duty, I suppose."
"Oh Minnow," said Elwen.
"I felt trapped. So trapped. And knowing so many people hated meā¦ Since I left Tolfalas I have always managed to make the best of a situation - usually for others. And now, I wanted to make the best of this situation for me , for me and Glorfindel, and everything kept getting harder and harder."
"And you have broken with Glorfindel?" said Elwen.
I nodded, too upset to talk about it.
"I am surprised he let you go," she said.
"I let him go," I told her. He didn't even know where I was, I thought, a little guiltily. Or perhaps he did. Word might travel, I thought.
"Let us sleep, we can talk more in the morning," she said, squeezing my shoulder.
That night I dreamt of Glorfindel. His face was thunderous, and he looked tired and worn. His long blond hair was lank and there were huge shadows under his eyes. He had never looked so ill, not even after weeks of not sleeping, facing the evils of Mordor and seeing his kin die in the slaughter that was the last battle. He lent against a tree, his head looking up and his eyes closed. Tears silently ran down his cheeks.
I jolted awake. Elwen was already dressed, and picking out earrings to wear from a jewellery box.
"I call this my Peasant Collection," she told me. "Because the stones are so oddly shaped, and of less value than my Numenorean jewellery. I think these ones look a little like turnips, don't you think?" She held up large yellow diamond stud earrings for me to admire. "A large part of being a princess is dressing for your audience," she told me. "My mother's emeralds would not do in this situation. Obviously."
"I have toā¦ check something," I muttered. I ran down the corridor in my night dress to a linen cupboard and sat on the floor, trying to stifle my laughter.
But I was so glad to see her. For all her occasional ridiculousness, it was mostly harmless I thought, and there was such a lack of judgement in all our conversations. Elwen and I were so different, I thought, as I walked back to the bedroom and pulled on my cleanest workshift, but I trusted her completely.
As we ate breakfast, I asked her at last why she had come to Cardolan.
"You used to be so diplomatic," she said, with a smile. "It was something I admired about you, for I often seem to offend people and I cannot tell you why. And perhaps you still are diplomatic! But I have been trying to help Annie with the administration of the kingdom and prove that I amā¦ well, useful. And I came across this letter."
She pulled a letter out of her bodice. I recognised it. Sylvie took the letter.
"To whom it may concern. We aren't paying any of your damn taxes. Stop asking. With Regards, Cardolan," she read.
There was a pause.
"There's only one person who would be so rude to the king of Arnor," said Elwen. "So here I am!"
"We're not paying taxes," I said, flatly. "There are some soldiers here who have not been paid for their service - years of service. The roads have not even been maintained. Why should we give the crown money?"
I realised Sylvie was looking between me and Elwen, astonished and alarmed.
"It's the law," said Elwen, unconcerned. "If you don't, you may be locked up. The fortress has quite a serviceable dungeon."
Sylvie gasped. Elwen was joking, I thought, properly.
"Anarion owes his life to me. Indeed, much is owed to me," I said, through my teeth.
"It's just money," said Elwen, nonchalantly. "It's what's owed."
I stood up at the table, my chair falling to the floor, suddenly furious. Not that long ago I had thought her privilege and entitlement harmless! What a fool I was.
"Valar Above, Elwen! Everyone in this village almost froze to death this winter. Almost starved to death, too! The king refused to pay the wages of the soldiers in a long war that has permanently injured them - they can barely work as it is!"
I took in a big breath and Elwen opened her mouth to speak, but I interrupted her.
"This is not my mismanagement. There is something rotten in the state of Arnor and Gondor," I said, fervently.
"Criticising the king is treason," said Elwen. Sylvie gasped. "Yet this brings us onto the other reason I have come. We need help."
"We?" I repeated, suspiciously.
"I need your help. It is an emergency. And Annie needs you, too."
"What does he need me for?" I asked.
"The economy, naturally," she said, glibly. I raised my eyebrows. "As you said, things are being run badly."
"I'm not a miracle worker," I muttered. I couldn't imagine what help I could be. "What is your emergency?" I asked.
"Oh. I'm going to marry Lord Aradon," said Elwen, matter of factly.
My eyebrows rose. "Elwen! You are engaged?!" I cried.
"Oh, he hasn't asked me yet," said Elwen, blithely.
There was a pause.
"What?" I said, unladylike. Had Anarion arranged their marriage? Or was this northern lord still ignoring her?
"In fact, it looks like he will never ask me. That's why it's an emergency," she said.
"Sylvie, tell Lucie that she is in charge of the workshop today, will you?" I said, not taking my eyes off Elwen. "Shall we go for a walk?"
We entered the garden and I told her we would walk along the river path where we would be assured privacy. For a few minutes I thought through what I wanted to say to her. I wasn't sure how much Elwen could say about the mismanagement of Arnor and Gondor - after all, the two kings were are brothers. Sometimes it was hard to know what her true feelings were on the matter. If I did know, then I could begin trying to make her understand.
But how was a midwife from Tolfalas (who was no longer in Tolfalas, and no longer a midwife) to talk to the princess of Gondor about how a country is to be run? What it is like to be hungry and cold? To have no options? To be dependent on others? I didn't know how to run a kingdom. I was just a mouthy healer, raised from the ranks.
A small voice in me said I would be a damn sight better at it than either Isildur or Anarion were proving to be.
Hadn't I made the village of Cardolan prosperous? Hadn't my efforts saved us from certain death?
Wasn't I a good leader?
I was lost in these thoughts when Elwen spoke.
"I am lovelorn," announced Elwen. "It is most unbecoming!"
Unfortunately, I burst into laughter at the expression on her face, and she hit me on the arm before sinking to the ground in the most un-princessy move I have ever seen from her. She sunk her head into her knees. I kneeled next to her, a little alarmed.
"It's not funny," she said, with a muffled voice.
"Lord Aradon?" I asked.
She said something into her knees, and when I asked her to repeat what she said, she sniffed and sat up straight.
"He doesn't want me!" she wailed. "I'm not good enough."
"That's nonsense, you know you're good enough. If he can't see that, then he's the one who isn't good enough."
"You think I'm frivolous too," she accused.
"Well, yes. You are wearing turnip earrings," I said, trying not to smile. She looked up at me, her lip wobbling. "I can beā¦ well, stridentā¦ and need my independence too much. None of us are perfect," I continued.
"Even Glorfindel?" she said.
"Grumpy. Uncompromising."
"Elrond?"
"Unassertive."
Elwen considered for a few moments.
"But this fault is standing in the way of my happiness. He does not even like me! How can I love someone who doesn't even like me? Everyone likes me," she said.
That was not true, I thought, amused.
"Why do you love him?" I asked.
"He is very handsome. He is uncompromising, too, but for the needs of his people which I admire. He won't pay taxes either. He says a lot of things I don't understand about money and I want to understand and help him. He's proud, and strong. He is unimpressed by all the men at court - especially Anarion - and yet he loves dogs. He has three. And he's kind to children, he made a toy for Joy. I like the way he smells."
"You really are lovelorn," I said, surprised. I tried to imagine this man in my mind. "He sounds like a good man."
"Everyone always says that you can depend o n Lord Aradon. They say he's a great man and the only reason the DĆŗnedain are still alive. Apparently the wilds of the North are, well, wild."
"You'd have to live there if you married him," I pointed out
"I've thought of that. I don't mind the cold so much, and I have a lovely fur cloak that would suit the occasion," she said, almost wistfully. "But I don't think the other DĆŗnedain would like me either."
"If their great lord chose you, then they will love you," I said.
"In all the stories, a princess meets a hero and they fall in love immediately, and get married. Or the hero falls in love with the princess and woos her and proves his love. The princess is not supposed to be crying because she can't get his attention."
I sighed.
"If it's any consolation, Glorfindel thought I was a messy little urchin when I first met him, even though I saved his life. And I thought he was grumpy and strange. Not that our great love story ended well. In the storybooks, the Elf and the plucky heroine don't end up estranged after a few years," I said.
"I do love my tiaras," she said defiantly. "But they're just tiaras! I know that . I know that," she repeated, a little sadly.
"I am a messy little urchin," I said, after a beat. "He wasn't wrong. But you're right. We're more than what we first appear."
"This is where you tell me what to do. Don't look surprised, Minnow! I need your guidance. I can hardly depend on Tinthiel or Lind for help."
"Well. I suppose you have to prove your worth," I said, slowly.
"You must help me. And you must help Annie with the problem with taxes, as well. That's important, too," she said.
I sighed, and lay on the ground. The last thing I wanted to do was go back to a royal court. Or see Anarion or Lind or anyone noble. But I had to look after Cardolan, and we weren't paying taxes. They wanted too much money and I needed to make sure they would survive the next winter, and the winter after that.
"Fine," I said, after a long pause. Elwen squealed and clapped her hands.
"And we can sort out your hair! I didn't want to say anything while you were crying last night, but it won't do for court. Why have you cut it like that?"
I rolled over, resting my face on the grass and my hands over my head and groaned, loudly.
"It's actually worse from the back," said Elwen, pensively.
Elwen cut my hair the next day in the kitchen. She said she had to do it herself because whoever had shorn me was guilty of crimes against humanity.
Lucie, who was in awe of Elwen ("Minnow, her earrings look just like turnips!" she had whispered to me in the corridor), gathered enough courage to explain that my hair had become matted.
"I knew it was your fault," Elwen told me. "You could do with liking tiaras a bit more."
"Perhaps I was a little depressed," I pointed out. "And my hair needs more effort than most."
"It will grow back, Minnow," said Sylvie, who poured us some tea. Elwen had brought a huge amount of loose tea with her and gifted it to Sylvie, effectively buying her affection.
I had been thinking about this Lord Aradon, and didn't want to give false hope to Elwen.
"You know, we might succeed in showing Lord Aradon your worth, but he might not be able to match it. Perhaps he is in love with another. Perhaps he will never fall in love. Perhaps he will never marry. I do not want you to get your hopes up," I said, a little worriedly.
"What sort of man wouldn't want to marry the princess?" whispered Lucie to Sylvie. "Is he blind ?"
"He has to marry. He's the last of his line, and he's thirty-eight-years old. The wilds are dangerous and he needs heirs. Even if he didn't love me, I would settle for his respect and admiration if we were to marry."
"Would you?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes. I have few options. Tinthiel's brother. Horrendous thought. There is a king in Harad. Isildur wishes me to marry him, but Annieā¦ well, Annie exploded at him, and so it is no longer on the table. Annie doesn't want me to go far away. Lord Aradon is a good match. Andā¦ he stands up to my brothers. He is not scared of them."
"I see." And I did. But I was alarmed that she counted Anarion alongside Isildur like this. It no longer seemed frivolous that Elwen married her lord. She seemed to think her survival depended on it: she had chosen someone strong who would not bow to power.
"Do you?" she asked, looking at me. I nodded, solemnly.
"When will you be ready to go to court?" I asked. "I must make preparations."
Sylvie answered. The horses needed another week to recover. I would accompany Elwen then.
As I didn't know how long I would be in the court of Arnor, I told Sylvie she was my deputy in my absence. Lucie was to run the workshop, and they could both correspond with me if they had any questions. But I didn't think they would need my help. In fact, I wanted them to be completely independent of me.
"It is my ambition to make Cardolan support itself. That must be your ambition too. I hope it will grow in size, but it must be managed accordingly. It must not become too big to fail," I said, packing up my things.
"But you've not taken any money for yourself, miss. You've paid everyone else," said Lucie. She was hovering behind me, wringing her hands. I turned to face her. She looked stricken.
"You will manage the workshop fine," I reassured her. She made a face.
"I ain't a healer like you!" she wailed.
"No, you're the best damn chambermaid Cardolan has ever seen, and you can do this," I said with a smile.
"Your hair is better butā¦ are you ready for court?" she asked, looking me up and down with disapproval. I wouldn't change her insolence for anything, I thought with a smile.
"I do have nice dresses. I just haven't had a reason to wear them. Don't worry, Lucie, I won't embarrass you," I said.
"She can look quite decentā¦ when she isn't covered in other people's blood, or mud," said Elwen, swanning into the room. "And I brought some dresses in the colours that suit you best. You may prepare for sieges, but I prepare for warfare in my own way." She presented me with a thick, woollen travelling dress in dark green.
"Oh," I said, admiring it. It was practical, but chic.
"Appropriate, is it not?" Elwen said with a smile.
"This is a good turn of events, child," said Sylvie, as I was saying goodbye to everyone a few days later. The entire village had lined the street, and I was hugging everybody I could.
"Keen to get rid of me?" I asked, with a smile. She kissed me on the cheek.
"In a way, yes! Go and dazzle them!" she whispered in my ear.
I waved at everyone and shouted goodbye as I entered Elwen's rather spacious carriage. She had travelled with remarkably few attendants: but then she was brave, I thought, remembering how she came to attend the dinner for Orophin with no maids. Only the same four loyal soldiers. I couldn't see Isildur or Anarion ever doing the same. In a way, I wished Berendine had come, but it would have been too much of a journey for Joy. But it was no matter, I was to see them soon.
"They treat you like a queen," Elwen noted, thoughtfully. "I am envious of how easily you befriend everyone."
"Not everyone. Not Lindon," I said, heavily. I shed a few tears as we left Cardolan. It felt strange that my time there had come to an end. The town had saved me just as much as I had saved it. It was clear to me that I needed purpose. But leaving Cardolan made me realise how tenuous the feeling of home now was to me.
It took almost two weeks to reach the court. We passed through several villages - some abandoned and others in a poor condition, our journey was a zig zag for we didn't travel through the night and stopped at the houses of noblemen on the way. I wrote down everyone's names, and took notes about the conditions. Arnor was in a state, I thought.
But our journey was slow and not as tiring as I thought. Neya came with us, and occasionally I or Elwen rode her to keep her company. Sometimes, when it was sunny, we walked alongside the carriage. The roads were too bad to go fast. Covered in stones, reeds and rocks, it was clear that they were neglected. But the closer we got to court, they improved.
I got to know Elwen's men. They were all Numenorean, and over a hundred years old. They were quiet, watchful, and clearly adored her.
"They looked after my mother, and well, they took an oath when they died to protect me. And here we are. It's not so bad, is it, Safran?" she called to the burly man who was delicately chewing on a stick of dried beef. We were sitting at the edge of a deep river, and it was fairly quiet apart from birdsong.
"You keep us on our toes, princess," he said, softly with a smile.
I dearly wanted to know more about the four soldiers, but they were quite tight-lipped, and only smiled when I tried to engage them in conversation.
Instead, Elwen and I spent our days talking to each other.
She spoke at length about Numenor, an island she had lived in the shadow of her whole life. Neither she nor Anarion had been born there, I had already known that. But of course, it had been present in her thoughts, and she was still a Numenorean by descent.
"And of course, the loss of immortality is something that still haunts some Numenoreans," she said, giving me a look. Was it something I was supposed to take from that?
"The Elves told me it was taboo in their cultureā¦ to talk to mortals about their deaths. But I think even humans talk around it," I said.
"There are still some Men who are angry that they lost their immortality - or at least that is how they think of it."
"Is that how you feel?" I asked, worried. I was on the horse, and she was sitting in the carriage, talking to me out the window. I hadn't thought too much about the Numenoreans who had long lives of hundreds of years, but seemed to envy their Elvish cousins. I couldn't really see why anyone would want to live for hundreds of years. I was not yet thirty and so far, everything had been quite tumultuous. The idea of this carrying on for thousands of years seemed exhausting.
"It's always men who want to live forever," mused Elwen.
"Gah," I said, thinking about it. It was probably true - the endless need to dominate and fear of weakness did seem very male in my experience.
"But usually Numenoreans must marry each other, or their partners will die long before they do. We cannot marry again - we still hold to the Elvish ways in that respect. So there is a larger fear of mortality at play as well," she carried on.
"I see," I said, although I didn't. Was she telling me that my relationship with Glorfindel was doomed from the start? But she had hoped I would be with Anarion - at least at one point. Or did she? Maybe I had got it all wrongā¦
Elves must marry Elves, Numenoreans must marry Numenoreans, everyone in their place, everyone at their station. No movement in the ranks. No risk. Only conformity. It was safer that way.
And yet, for all that, we would not have someone like Elrond. I thought of Thavron as well, a man who had outlived partners and who had saved more men than anyone in Middle Earth. And Erestor who had human blood in him and how Gil-galad looked at him, with utter devotion. Wasn't it worth it? Until it wasn't, I thought, remembering my heartbreaking fights with Glorfindel.
As we made our way to Arnor's great fortress city where the court was held, I thought a lot about death. I had seen many women through birth, watched helplessly as men died, and even fought death off successfully. I had seen bodies in mass graves, and was haunted by the missing people I never had the chance to bury. As a mortal and a midwife, death walked by my side, and I tried to match its stride. To live forever seemed terribly lonely, and yet that was the Elves' fate. I couldn't say I wanted it.
And at last we arrived at the heart of Arnor. The fortress was nothing like Osgiliath or Minas Tirith - it simply wasn't on the same scale. I stuck my head out the carriage as we entered the gates. The fortress was made of a deep dark stone that seemed burnt. It was low and flat; it seemed to almost sink in the green, boggy shrubland surrounding it. Sheep and chicken were scattered everywhere.
Anarion was waiting for us at the top of the steps, smiling amongst the banners. He embraced his sister and bowed deeply to me.
"Minnow. I knew you would come," said Anarion, breathlessly.
I curtseyed in response.
He was looking well, I thought. He had put on a little weight, and had rosy cheeks. His beard had filled in and he looked kingly.
Anarion took me by the elbow and showed me around the hall, which was covered in old banners, and to my room. I closed the door behind me, closed my eyes, and sighed.
"BOO!" shouted a toddler standing on the bed in the room. For a few seconds I just stared at the child.
"Joy?" I asked, incredulously. How was this four-year-old the baby I delivered on a campsite?
"MINNOW!" cried Berendine, who appeared from behind the bed and tackled me to the ground. Joy threw herself at me and started giggling. I threw my head back with laughter.
I had been waiting weeks to see them both.
We talked over each other the whole time, and I took almost nothing in. Berendine threw me in a tub of hot water and Joy got in, too. We both had a good scrub and Berendine poured hot water over us both, making us shriek.
"Your hair, Min Min," said Joy, grabbing it.
"Will you look after Joy while I attend to the princess?" said Elwen.
"GAH!" we both shouted. Joy helped me get dressed, and I gave her a doll Lucie had made for her, and we played with her for a while until she felt sleepy, and I tucked her into the bed.
"Min Min," she muttered, sleepily. I couldn't believe how big she was now. I brushed her hair off her face.
Berendine came to fetch me not long after. We were to eat dinner in the hall along with fifty of the king's closest courtiers. Berendine and Safran stood alongside the footmen who lined the hall. It felt so unnatural to me after eating in the hall at Cardolan all together as a village.
Here, hierarchies must be adhered to, I thought, sadly.
A king, I learnt, does everything in public. He is always performing. Elwen and Anarion entered together, wearing circlets, when they sat down, everyone else did, too. It was a little hard, following the court manners when I was so out of practice. I spotted Lind scowling at me. My heart jumped a little at seeing her.
The two royals left together too, and more drink was poured by the footmen. Things got a little rowdier, and someone stood up to sing a song about drinking and being kicked by a donkey of all things. I sighed and thought about slinking off to bed, but an attendant pulled me aside and took me to the king's receiving room.
It was a cosy room, the walls covered in bookshelves. There was a harp in the corner, larger than Elwen's travelling instrument. Anarion had taken off his circlet, but Elwen was still wearing hers. She had poured herself a glass of wine. I declined one.
"You owe several years of taxes, Lady Minnow of Cardolan," Anarion told me. Something told me that this was a trap.
"Backdating, are you? My liege," I said, sweetly.
"It would not have fallen to you if you had stayed in Lindon, of course, but now you are back in my lands," he said, with a smile.
"There are several former soldiers in my estate who have never been paid for their service," I countered.
"Well, if we take out their salaries, then what you owe is less, but still considerable," he said. That of course, would mean that I would have to pay the soldiers and I simply did not have the money at all.
"Why are your taxes so high?" I asked, exasperated.
"We have been at war. We owe money everywhere. We simply do not have the money to function," he said, picking up a gold goblet and pouring himself some brandy.
"I see," I said, grimly.
"Since I know it is impossible to force you to do what you believe is wrong, may I present a compromise?"
I smiled at him and told him I was open to suggestions.
"Will you work off your estate's debts?" he asked.
"What kind of work?" I asked, thinking of the healer's halls I had visited. I would happily work as a healer again.
"We have no use for you in healing in Arnor, but I have a great need of help in my office."
I looked at Elwen and she looked down into her glass of wine quickly. I suspected this had been her idea.
I acquiesced and said I would see them both in the morning. Exhausted, I fell into my new bed (Joy had disappeared, no doubt scooped up by her mother) and into a deep sleep. I dreamt of the sea.
"You need a steward," I said, looking over Anarion's desk the next day. We were in his study, and his large wooden desk was covered in piles of paper, scrolls, maps, scraps of paper and a few books with tables and numbers in them. The floor was in a similar state.
"He died in the war and his son is but fifteen years old. He is an able worker, but is still in his apprenticeship," said Anarion. "Here he is! Hanlon, meet your new colleague. Minnow is here to help."
"Well met, milady," said the boy. He looked very young, but was lanky and tall. He was nervous of Anarion I realised, but the king soon swept out. "The pile just keeps getting bigger and bigger," he whispered.
"Gah," I said.
"Excuse me?" he replied.
"I said, ahhhh, I see," I said, crossing my arms.
"I'm sorry I have failed in this task, milady," he said, looking forlorn.
"You haven't, Hanlon, you haven't. I will need your help, and I'm sure you will do admirably," I said with a wide smile.
At first, I was daunted by it all. It was beyond my training, but with Hanlon looking at me for instruction I took a big breath in. Everything was possible, I told myself, and no task was too big once it was broken up into smaller steps. I grilled him on what he had been doing for a few months he had been an apprentice steward, and what Anarion's needs were. After a few stops and starts, I discovered that there was a backlog from even before the war, and that Anarion's time was taken up by meetings with his court, which he was in from dawn to dusk, and commoners in Arnor insisting on visiting the new king - mostly with complaints and requests. There were lots of disputes Anarion had to calm. But nothing was in order. There was no system, there was no organisation, there was no anticipating needs. All they did was react (usually slowly) to ever-increasing problems.
All this was very manageable, I thought, if dull to sort through. I told Hanlon we had to organise the papers into piles - what was urgent and not urgent. The main thing seemed to be to figure out what to take to Anarion and what to either ignore, or sort ourselves. It felt strange to look through the papers; almost as if we were trespassing. A letter would contain personal details - one widow spoke of her poor daughters who had nothing left to eat. But Hanlon knew most of the families in Arnor, and was able to tell me if the letters - so often undated - contained current information.
"They both married, the daughters, that is, milady," he told me. "The widow lives with the youngest daughter now."
"Minnow," I said, absently, reading about a new agricultural development that was fascinating. I knew next to nothing about cattle farming, I thought, and thank the Valar as it was dead boring. Over the next few weeks, Hanlon and I worked away, and Anarion occasionally popped in to see how we were doing. We had managed to half the pile.
One day, Anarion brought up Elwen, assuming that she had spoken to me of her desire to marry.
"It would solve a lot of issues if Aradon did marry Elwen," said Anarion. "But he won't."
"Issues?" I asked, curious.
"Aradon wants his lands and people to be independent. He seems to think this was agreed between my father and his father - I cannot find any such agreement. Not in this mess. And I'm not going to look hard for it. The land is ours, and he owes us years of taxes. If he married Elwen, I would have more influence over him," explained Anarion.
Oh, how complicated, I thought. That must be yet another reason that Aradon, who I had not met yet, is against the match. He doesn't want to be controlled by Anarion.
In the late afternoons, Elwen swept in and told me she commanded me to go for a walk with Berendine and Joy in tow, and Hanlon to go practise the sword. Occasionally I went to the archery field, but it reminded me too much of Celebrian and that made me sad. I would probably never see her again, I thought. I didn't mind never seeing Haldir again.
Walking was a large part of being part of the court, I found. Seeing and being seen was important for status, but I found I enjoyed it. Elwen had introduced me to many of the lords and the few ladies who lived at the court, or near enough to visit daily. The gardens were expansive, and there were ponds and hedges and little meadows to walk through.
Eventually, I came face to face with my former friend. Elwen's attention had been drawn elsewhere and we had to acknowledge each other. Berendine hovered nervously behind me. I gave her a smile.
"So you're back," said Lind. Her arms were crossed and she was scowling at me. She was in a fur trimmed robe, but I thought she looked peaky. The cold air did not suit her. Elwen's rosy cheeks contrasted with her pasty complexion. I still felt the pang of the loss of friendship, but it paled in comparison to the other grief I suffered.
"I've never been here before," I said, petulant.
"At court. The elf lord threw you out then," she said, with a nasty smile.
"I left," I snapped. I didn't want to get into this with her. I watched as she stormed away, meeting Tinthel at the end of the corridor.
Joy tottered over to hug me and I embraced her tightly.
But other than that, most of the court greeted me cordially. I heard through a network of whispers that my friendship with Elwen was considered one of her many eccentricities, and not given much credence. I didn't care much what they thought, in truth. But I was desperate to meet Lord Aradon. There was no correspondence from him - either Anarion kept that to himself, or he only communicated in person.
But I didn't have long to wait. After a month at court, Elwen burst into my room as I was dressing. She pulled out a deep purple dress and insisted I put it on.
"What is the rush?" I asked.
"He is here," she hissed. She dragged me to the hall as if she was being chased by a Balrog, and then calmly stepped through the large wooden door as serenely as a she-Elf.
Don't laugh, I told myself.
Walking arm and arm, we just so happened to come upon a tall man who was walking with Anarion, deep in discussion. They stopped what I thought was an argument as soon as they saw us.
"Lord Aradon, may I introduce my particular friend, Lady Minnow?" said Elwen, smiling widely.
Lord Aradon was not what I was expecting. A DĆŗnadan , he was almost as old as Isildur, and looked a little like him.
But he felt very different.
Stern, grim, but with kind eyes, he had smile lines. He didn't speak much, but also did not seem ill at ease among company. He was not who I would have thought she would have picked. He was quiet where she was talkative. But I could see that he had quiet strength and would not be easily swayed by the court.
"Isn't he marvellous?" gushed Elwen, after what could only be described as stilted small talk.
"He is everything you said,'' I replied, diplomatically. Elwen made me promise to meet her in the afternoon to discuss it further. After a few hours of sorting through more letters about a dispute over deer hunting rights, which engaged Anarion's attention for once, and Hanlon's admiration of Aradon, I found myself for the first time in the daily market around the fortress.
It was nothing to Minas Tirith, but there were hundreds of stalls selling trinkets, shoes, clothes, fabric and even knives - and I even spotted a few Dwarves! I had not seen any in years.
"They come to trade but they keep their good jewels back. Still, let us talk to them," Elwen said, as we spied them across from us. Elwen was explaining the dwarven jewellery trade to me as I looked at them. It was a subject that she was very passionate about clearly.
"And so, because they profited greatly from the war due to selling arms to Elendil, and did not die in as great numbers as our soldiers did, they are selling only their less valuable jewels. They do not rely on us as a form of income - at least when it comes to jewellery. There are many different clans of dwarves, but they tend to make financial decisions as a whole despite disputes," she said.
My mind was rushing to catch up.
"How do you know all of this?" I asked. I knew next to nothing about how dwarves conducted themselves politically - all I knew was there was a king - Durin.
"Oh, it's just what I have pieced together over the years from tidbits I have discovered in conversation with the dwarves. I would dearly love some proper Dwarven jewellery but they are so secretive. There are few outside their race that even know any of the Dwarves' language! And they are hardly going to sell their most precious pieces to a human, even a princess. They are very distrustful of us. But I saw a necklace on Dwarf once as a girl that I have dreamt of ever sinceā¦" she said, dreamily.
We walked over to the two dwarves and looked at the necklaces and small, loose stones - aquamarines I thought - on the table in front of us. They were made from delicately twisted silver, and I realised that I had seen Lind wearing similar earrings she had surely purchased from the dwarves. But they were not what Elwen would wear.
"They're made to human tastes, your highness," said one dwarf with bushy red hair. I could tell that Elwen considered her tastes to be rather more grand than the average human's.
The dwarves wouldn't give their names, or tell us where they came from. Elwen whispered that was normal, for they were that truly secretive.
"If I were to write a letter to a dwarven friend of mine, would you be able to pass it to him? The last I heard he was in the Brown Lands, but that may not be where he is now," I said.
The dwarf looked surprised and suspicious, and I explained that I had been in the Forge City in the Brown Lands and had met Durin.
"You've been to the great Forge City?" gaped the dwarf. The two of them talked between themselves for a minute, then turned back to me, and demanded to know who my friend was so they could check the veracity of my claims.
"Yagel, and his daughter Evena, master dwarf," I said, placidly.
"Yagel, missy? I know him well! You must be Minnow," he said. "Your deeds are known to us. Indeed, you are dwarf-friend," he said, and bowed. He introduced himself as Ribbel, and his companion as Hakken. Elwen delicately coughed.
"Perhaps you would join me and my dear friend Princess Elwen for tea tomorrow afternoon?" I said. They bowed and we headed back to the fortress.
"Tea with dwarves!" exclaimed Elwen. "Whatever next? I wanted you to ask them about their good jewellery, dwarf-friend ."
"You're not going to get a dwarf-made ruby necklace out of them by demanding it," I told her. And I wanted to speak to people who weren't courtiers for once - dealing with dwarves was a different kind of aggressive dance, I thought. They were less likely to stab me in the back.
But tea went better than I thought it would. Elwen decided to show them all her jewellery after drinking three pots of tea each and ten scones. She laid her prized possessions out for them to look at; three tiaras, several pairs of earrings, and more diamonds than most would see in a lifetime. The dwarves were tickled, and spent an hour with a giggly Elwen discussing every single piece - they could tell from a glance what was Numenorean, what was Gondor made, which craftsman had made everything - so many names that were unknown to me but not Elwen.
It was clear she had jewellery from all over Middle Earth - but nothing Dwarf made. Yet.
"And you, Minnow?" asked Ribbel. While I wasn't about to show them the bag of rubies I had, I told them that I had significantly fewer jewels than the princess, but took my two pendants from my bodice.
They both gasped.
"It's been a long time since we saw any piece that old - and to see two! They were both made in Valinor, I wager," said Hakken.
I promised to buy some jewellery for Joy next week, and we walked them out.
"That was the most enjoyable tea I have ever had in Aradon!" cried Elwen as we waved them down the steps.
Lord Aradon was sitting on a bench next to the steps of the main hall with a few of his compatriots. They were smoking pipes, a strange habit I had never seen before. But they were strange men, I thought, not necessarily in a bad way, but they kept themselves to themselves. Neither they or their lord had come to dinner. I guessed that they were not well pleased with Anarion.
"I have just received two dwarves, Lord Aradon. New friends," said Elwen, with a smile.
"Jewellery-makers, I believe?" he said, softly. There was nothing malicious in his tone, but all three of his men smiled at each other in a way I disliked.
"Fostering closer relations with our allies is an important aspect of diplomacy, I believe," I said, as demurely as I could.
"Indeed," said Elwen, and curtseyed, then dashed off. I watched her go. She was upset, I could tell.
"You have a poor opinion of women's work," I said in a low voice to Aradon. He smiled at me.
"I have a high opinion of everyone who works hard to help their community," he said, dismissively, not looking at me.
I lost my temper.
"Listen, I didn't march into Mordor or climb up Mount Doom to get sassed by some pipe smoking northerner with the manners of a troll," I snapped. His head snapped over to me, and looked amazed to be spoken to in this manner. "Those dwarves loved her because she's so knowledgeable about jewels - and truly appreciative of the craftsmanship. Sometimes a tiara isn't just a tiara! Sometimes negotiating means making an effort to understand what the other person wants!"
I stormed off and immediately regretted it. But Lord Aradon came to dinner that evening, as did his men. After Elwen and Anarion left, I sidled up to him.
"I apologise for my hasty words, my lord," I said in a low voice. "I have a hideous temper and I'm ashamed to offend you."
He looked at me and sighed. "You did not, but I must apologise, too. Your friendship with Princess Elwen does her credit. There is much to learn from the Dwarves, I own, and I would dearly love to know more about how they organise their central bank," he said.
What on Middle Earth was a central bank?
"Elwen spoke to me of their finances, too," I said, hesitantly.
"She did?" he said, surprised, and looked thoughtful. I left him to ponder on it more, as I was out of my depth.
But another trip to the market proved less enjoyable. I bought a small bangle from Ribbel for Joy, and as he was wrapping it up, I noticed a stall selling Athelas paste. As I thanked my new dwarf friend, I made my way over to the stall. For a second, my heart soared at the sight of all the jars with our Athelas paste made in Cardolan. Until I saw something which made my heart sink.
It was being sold for four times what I had sold the jars for - an extortionate amount. I was furious. An exhausted woman next to me with a five year old on her hip who was crying was trying to haggle the price down.
"Please, sir," she said. "I can't afford the houses of healing and their medicine, and he's got a toothache. I can only pay half that,"
"Too bad," sneered the man, behind the stall. "I got a business to run."
I had to fix this. Once again, I had been sloppy. Just like I had let Cardolan fall further into disrepair while I was in Lindon, I had only thought of selling our paste to a merchant, and thought nothing of how he was to conduct himself. Now that I had sorted through Arnor's legal documents and read hundreds of letters from disputes I saw more of how business was conducted.
I didn't even have a contract with the merchant we sold the paste to. What a fool I was. Just a silly little girl who thought she could do things herself. I was a trained healer - not someone who understood about finances or markets or whatever a central bank was.
But, I thought to myself, my ignorance would be my saving grace. No contract meant I was free to conduct business with others. But who?
The woman and the child walked away, upset, but there were plenty of people who bought the paste at the extortionate price. I watched for an hour, as the market stall heaved with people and all the jars were sold. The man enjoyed selling his wares, joking with people, and counting his Castors with joy.
I turned away, sick. The other stalls were far less busy. The dwarves were an oddity, but the rest were commonplace; meat pies, a baker and many stalls sellings odds and ends; used products. There was a sign saying he bought things too.
There were signs of poverty everywhere, I thought. This was not a place that was thriving. The man behind the stall ripped a loaf of bread in half and gave a piece each to the shoeless child who ran off in glee.
I walked over to the man, who was in his early fifties I thought, with a bushy beard and receding hair.
"I'm sorry, miss, I know we aren't meant to feed them, but I can't help it. Please don't fine me, my wife will be ever so mad at me," he said, softly.
"Fine you?" I asked.
"For feeding the street children," he said, looking worried. To my horror, he confirmed that it was a law not to feed the street children, most of whom were orphans from the war, as it was thought that would encourage them. "I can't afford another fine, miss," he said.
I scurried back to the hall, and found Anarion.
"Minnow, you don't understand how mischievous and unruly these gangs of children can be!" he said, when I brought this up.
"They're hungry!" I countered.
"Well, there is hardly anything to go around," he said, drinking a cup of coffee. There was a tray of fruits and biscuits next to him. "I have another meeting with Aradon and he's on at me about central banks and whatnot. He wants to run before we can even crawl, you have no idea the pressure I'm under and yet you pester me with these small concerns."
"I apologise," I said, stiffly.
"I cannot fix everything," he told me, plaintively.
But what had he fixed, I wondered. I sat next to Aradon at the meal that night, and asked him what his home up north looked like. Elwen listened very attentively, and I thought that it was tempting to go somewhere that remote and run away from everyone. He said his people were spread out, but there were almost twenty thousand of them.
That was a lot of taxes, I thought, annoyed.
As I walked past the kitchen after dinner that night, I saw that almost half what had been served at dinner was now being given to the pigs. The cooks wouldn't listen to me when I asked for the food to be given to the poor.
"Those hooligans, miss?" one woman said. "They don't deserve it!"
I went to bed furious, and woke up even madder. I left Hanlon with the administrative work to his horror, and marched down to the bakery stall.
The baker looked worried to see me, and reluctantly gave me his name. I demanded he take me to his house. His assistant took over the stall, and he led me to a well-kept, but slightly shabby cottage with a large baker workshop attached within the city gates. His wife and two daughters were inside doing sewing work.
I introduced myself properly, and told them I had seen the baker, who was called Stan, giving the homeless children bread - but before I could explain myself, his wife interrupted me, upset and stuttering.
"He'll stop, milady, I promise he will. We would be richer if he didn't give so much bread away, and I promise to make him stop!" she said, holding her daughter's hand and looking like she was about to burst into tears.
"I don't want to distress you! I'm sorry, I'm not explaining myself properly," I said, annoyed with myself that I had distressed them. I took a deep breath. "The Athelas paste is made in Cardolan, my estate, to my recipe," I said. "I'm a healer, a midwife, actually.
"You make it, miss? The good stuff?" Noticing my confused look, he explained there were a lot of imitators.
"It took me a long time to figure out the recipe," I said. "It was hard to get it to keep - it rots quickly. Usually. My recipe doesn't. I've been selling to a merchant who I met in Cardolanā¦ but I see that the sellers have upped the price. I want it to be affordable for everyone."
There was a long pause. "Whyā¦ why are you telling us this, miss?" asked Stan.
"Oh!" I said, feeling stupid. "Will you help me? Will you sell it in Cardolan for me? I want to work with good men, and you give food to the poor. I think I can trust you."
"I'm a baker," said Stan, a little confused. "Just a baker."
"I know," I said, a little miserably. "And I don't want you to stop doing something you love, but perhaps you and your daughters can helpā¦" I trailed off. I had thought it was such a good plan. "I thought perhapsā¦ some of the profits could go towards helping the hungry children."
My heart sunk. This was beyond me, I realised.
His wife spoke up. "We can do it. Stan - we will all help." She whispered to him that this was an opportunity that they couldn't refuse.
A few days later, they came to the hall and Hanlon helped me write out a contract for them. Stan was to be my sole distributor, and the price was to be capped. A jar could not be sold for more than five Castors.
I wrote a strongly worded letter to Sylvie, explaining the situation. Stan's wife and his two daughters were to travel to Cardolan to pick up the next batch in person. It infuriated me that we had been used in this way. I had never thought it would be so popular, but the Athelas paste was so useful. Parents wanted to buy it; it soothed babies who were teething, and many children's ailments and so few could afford to go to a healer. But I had been naive, I thought. I never thought to ask how much they would sell it on for - or even sort out a contract.
"Such a fool," I muttered to myself.
I bumped into Aradon in the meadows while I was taking Joy for a walk, and showing her all the different herbs. He smiled widely when he saw Joy, and she ran to him and he picked her up. I could see why Elwen wanted him so badly; the way he looked at Joy was adorable.
"I see you like some women," I teased, as Joy pulled on his beard and babbled away about flowers.
"Children are rare among the DĆŗnadan," he said. Much like Elves, I thought.
"You do not think highly of our princess," I said to him.
"She isā¦ not serious," he said. I smiled.
"I thought so, too, at first. Butā¦ she has been controlled by her father and Isildur. Are you acquainted with either of them? I asked.
"Yes," he said, giving me a penetrating look. "We broke ranks with the Numenoreans a long time ago, but Elendil made efforts to reunite us. I fought in the war. But our clans have no love of their line. Their values are not our values. And what they promise is not met with action."
I couldn't fault him. I had the same grievances with Anarion, Isildur and their father.
But I had not said my piece yet.
"And yet, despite these poor influences you detail, she is still kind, and still has an open heart and mind. In my opinion, she is the best of them. And when it comes to their line of kings, she is where I would put all our hopes."
Aradon stopped and looked at me, a little shocked. "Those are strong words, Lady Minnow of Cardolan."
"I trust her completely," I told him.
"Indeed. Pretty words, indeed." He doubted me, I realised. But I was not Lind or Tinthiel, desperate to court public favour.
"Give her a task," I said. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Do not take my word for it. Give her a task, and see. Perhaps this central bank you speak of. She will exceed your expectations. She only needs a chance."
He frowned at me a little.
"I will listen to your counsel. You are wise for someone so young," he said. He bowed and strode off.
"I wish I weren't," I muttered.
Looking through so much paperwork every day was tiring work. I preferred to work with my hands, I thought. But Hanlon was an eager worker.
I had found a large amount of letters from noblemen offering their daughters' hand in marriage. Oh that's easy enough I thought. We would write a template letter and a scribe could sort the rest. There were other letters I wondered at. Letters asking for money from captains, who seemed to have been awarded large pensions from the army despite being landowners. And letters from poor soldiers demanding pay.
Anarion paid the pensions and ignored the soldiers. Nothing I said could change his mind.
The other letters were invitations (refused) and disputes (disinterested). Anarion wasn't particularly interested in running Arnor, I saw. But it was engaging reading, Hanlon and I found. I decided that we would take it upon ourselves to answer the disputes (usually over land or rights) in a way that we thought was right. The best course of action, I thought, was to train Hanlon to be able to solve these issues by himself.
Luckily, his father had been a good steward, thorough and competent, and if he hadn't left instruction on a subject, Hanlon usually knew how he would answer a question. He only needed a little direction and encouragement.
But there was some correspondence Anarion wouldn't let us read. It was either from Isildur, or Aradon, who rode down to the court every two weeks for a meeting with Anarion.
"The king is lending Gondor huge amounts of money," whispered Hanlon. He had been adding the books up and found a lot missing.
"What for?" I whispered back. But Hanlon only shrugged. I didn't want to talk about Isildur, or even think about him. However, I couldn't imagine he would be a good king in any respect. I sent Thavron and Isobel letters as there were such frequent couriers between Gondor and Arnor. I didn't explain what had happened in Lindon, and hoped they wouldn't ask.
Hanlon and I became attached at the hip. After we go through the paperwork we had time to go with Anarion to meetings. We attended, but couldn't participate in, court meetings every week where Anarion met his lords.
Hanlon was treated with grudging respect, and many comments about how he had to work hard and live up to his father's reputation, and I was met with some disdain from the lords. I couldn't say I thought much of them either. Their speeches in the meetings seemed designed to score points with each other - or waste time. They had contempt for their people and were overly concerned with lining their own pockets.
When I made a remark to Hanlon about Mordor one day, one of the lords was quick to question me about how I knew anything about the badlands in the south. I explained I was a healer with the Gondorian Army, and we had been in Mordor for the final battle, and I had even climbed Mount Doom with King Anarion.
"You? You accompanied the two kings up Mount Doom? I think not," said Lord Windon, a thin man with ridiculous facial hair who only wore purple velvet, sneering at me. "What fanciful thoughts you have, Lady Minnow," he continued.
I looked to Anarion to contradict him, but he seemed not to hear what Lord WIndon had said.
I saw how I was already written out the history of Men. And perhaps the history of the Elves too. They had longer memories, but I didn't think they would want to put pen to paper and record the episode in Lindon. The men of Gondor had already forgotten me.
Legacies are the domain of men, I thought, angrily. I decided I didn't care for their opinions. I had work to do. All I had to do was be patient.
The man who had previously sold my paste had not returned to the market for a week - having run out of goods to sell - when Stan's wife Frieda and her daughters came back with a cart full of Athelas paste. They set up two stalls in the market, and soon there were queues.
Stan and I brainstormed about how to help the homeless kids, and he eventually started to train them to deliver jars of the paste across the city - and further afield, in exchange for bread.
It was a slow start, but it was working. After a few weeks, Stan told me he finally had enough money to build a permanent bakery, which had been his dream for many years.
I started to believe things were going well.
One day, in the late autumn, Elwen burst into my room with a big smile on her face.
"Lord Aradon has asked me to help him with his plan to set up a bank!" cried Elwen, jumping on my bed and grabbing me. "I don't know how to do that, but he asked me. Me, Minnow!"
"I'm sure you will set up the best bank in the whole of Arda," I said.
"This was you, wasn't it? Well, this is a way to show Elwen of Numenor's quality. I won't disappoint," said Elwen, hugging a pillow and looking pensive.
"Quality of the highest order," I said, leaning against the headboard.
"But what should I do? How does one set up a bank?" she asked.
"Beats me," I said with a smile.
She told me that Lord Aradon even talked of taking her to the wilds of the north for a visit to discuss the matter further with all the lords of the north.
"I'm nervous," she said.
Later, Berendine told me that Elwen had already started packing and had forgotten to think about what jewellery she was to bring.
"There will be a marriage soon," she told me. "Mark my words."
"Valar Above," I muttered.
"You are playing matchmaker with my sister," accused Anarion, with a smile one morning. Elwen had just left for a two week visit - with her guards - to the north, and I missed her dearly, but was proud of her.
"Don't you approve?" I asked.
Anarion laughed and said he did. I couldn't imagine that he wouldn't: he thought that marriage between the two of them would bring Aradon's wild north closer to his purview and they would never gain their independence. I didn't doubt that Elendil had promised to give them their independence for their part in the war. I also didn't doubt that Elendil had anticipated reneging on his part of the deal.
"Aradon is the most stoic man I'd ever met," he said. "He will be a good husband for my sister," he continued.
He took the papers I handed him, and flicked through them.
"Have I paid of Cardolan's debt yet?" I asked.
"I have plans for you yet," he said, with a smile.
I wanted to throw something at him, but supposed it was ill-advised to attack the king.
Later, I was walking through the meadow, thinking to myself. All was well, for once. Elwen was in conference with Aradon and his lords in the north. Aradon would see her for who she really was, without the shadow of either of her brothers and I hoped, would see her quality. I desperately wanted to attend their wedding. But if Elwen left the court, I could hardly stay. Hanlon and his team of scribes were well positioned to manage all the administration that a king needs to run his lands. Even if I didn't exactly approve of what the money was being spent on. There were some things I couldn't change. Many things I could not, I thought, morosely.
Surely I had paid my debt, I thought. Cardolan's debt. I had an idea of where I would go next. Cardolan was safe in hands with Sylvie, and I hoped that the Athelas paste would keep them in money for a long time. They didn't need me any longer, and neither did Arnor.
"Anarion! You startled me!" I said. He had appeared out of nowhere and was smiling at me.
He apologised and offered to walk with me. "You were lost in thought," he said. "I did say your name several times."
"Ai, I am sorry, I was thinking of the future," I said.
We walked in silence for a minute, and I was about to reminisce about the first time we had met, and how unlikely it was that we would end up here - that we even survived.
"Your coming to Arnor was like the answer of a prayer," said Anarion, suddenly. I turned around, a little alarmed and looked at him. He had such a serious look on his face.
He cupped my cheek and reached down and kissed me gently.
"You will save me," he whispered, as if to himself. I drew away, but he pulled me closer to him.
He traced my jawline with his fingers and reached down and kissed me. It felt strange and new, his stubble tickled my face and he reached up to my hair and laced his hands into my curls. He drew me into him, and pressed against me and deepened the kiss. Without realising what was happening, I started kissing him back.
There was a large part of me that wanted him. He had felt solid and real. I was so lonely.
"I would marry you, Minnow," he whispered.
"Annie," I started to protest.
"Do not answer now," he told me. He kissed my hand and strode off towards the garden gate.
This was a very unwelcome development, I thought, alarmed at myself. A very unwelcome and disarming development. I ran back to my room, and had strange dreams. I woke the next day with trepidation.
I wished I had someone to talk to about what had happened, I thought. But I could hardly confide in Elwen.
But Anarion acted normally around me when I met him in his study with Hanlon. In fact, he almost ignored me which only added to my confusion.
I studied him at the court meeting. Hanlon was whispering in my ear. But Anarion didn't look at me, not once. This disconcerted me more than ever.
As I walked out, he grabbed me and pulled me into an antechamber. He pulled me to him and kissed me ferociously. To my shame and utter astonishment, not only did I let him but I groaned with pleasure. He stroked my hair again, and then left me.
I felt sick.
That evening, I skipped dinner for the first time. I had never kissed a man with a beard before. It had irritated the skin on my face. I opened a jar of Athelas paste and dabbed it on the red marks on my face. What was I doing, I asked my reflection.
"Valar help me," I told the mirror. "I need it."
Berendine came to check on me, and her face dropped when she saw my face.
"It will be gone by morning," I said, helplessly, as I sat down on the bed. She came and sat next to me.
"It's nothing, you can barely see anything," she lied.
"How did it startā¦ with Isildur?" I asked.
"Stolen kisses. He was lovely at first, actually. It was like I couldn't resist him. So charmingā¦ I couldn't do enough to please him. It was onlyā¦ later, that it was, well, bad," she said. "Seems so long ago, like a dream."
Or a nightmare, I thought, glumly.
"I don't know what to do," I admitted.
"He'd marry you. You could be queen," she said, looking grim.
"I know," I said.
I didn't sleep that night, just lay on the bed, alone with my thoughts.
Two days later, he found me alone on one of my walks in the meadow before dinner. Without thinking, I walked over to him. And without a word, he drew me into his arms.
"Annie," I remonished, as he started to kiss my neck. "Anarion!" I snapped, pushing him from me.
"Minnow," he moaned in my ear and arousal started to pool inside me, even as my whole body was telling me to run.
"This isā¦ not a good idea," I said. "I'm only here to clear Cardolan's debt. I will leave once Elwen returns."
"What of my offer of marriage?" he asked. I looked into his eyes.
"It'sā¦ it's not a good idea," I said, weakly. I felt weak. I had enjoyed kissing him, hadn't I?
"I've been patient," he said, steely. "I've made no mention of your doomed liaison with the elf, or how long you've made me wait."
"Wait?" I asked.
"I've been patient and waited for you. I haven't even looked at another woman since I met you-" he started.
"Well, perhaps that is another thing to consider," I said, helplessly. "I am not a good choice for you. I wasn't born a noblewomanā¦ my parents weren't even married to each other! I have a trade! Andā¦ I'm not a maid. You must know Glorfindel took me to bed. I was his wife. Maybe I still am in a wayā¦" I said, unsure of myself.
"It was a sham marriage, Minnow, it meant nothing," he said, derisively. "I do not think upon it."
I felt like I'd been slapped by him.
"Anarion!" I cried.
"To be queen of Arnor is no small thing! I offer you so much more than he ever could," he said, emphatically.
"Anarion-" I interjected.
"There is so much you want to do, isn't there? You would have so much power. I'd let you do whatever it is you want - this bank Aradon wants. Education for girls. Anything, Minnow, anything. Did Glorfindel give you that? Did he? Your son will be king!"
For some reason, that made me shudder.
"But Anarion-"
"Think on it, and tell me in the morning," he said softly. He kissed me on the forehead and left. In the cold autumn twilight, I shuddered from more than the cold.
The responsibility of it overwhelmed me.
My heart told me I would be the best queen Arnor had ever seen. There was so much to do, and I knew I could do it. I could bring round the politicians, I would win over the people. I could redistribute the wealth, and make Arnor truly prosper. It was well within my capabilities. The idea of making education compulsory for women, for changing the fate of their livesā¦ it was within my grasp.
And yet, I didn't want to do it. I didn't want Isildur as a brother-in-law. I didn't want Anarion as a husband (you already have a husband, my heart whispered). He was weak. And it was a weakness that I couldn't tolerate. I was a leader, I thought, but I had to lead in my own way.
But was it selfish of me to want to forge my own path? I could save so many people from poverty. I could bring in a new golden age for Arnorā¦ But my heart wasn't in it.
I sank into the bath and lying at the bottom, opened my eyes underwater. It was dark in my room, but the candlelight made shapes on the ceiling. Valar Above, but I missed the sea. For decades I had swam in it every day, smelled the salt, and felt the sea air on my face. And now, I hadn't even seen the open sea in years. No water would ever compare to the sea, I thought, not all the turquoise lakes or refreshing rivers. What I would do to feel the waves of the ocean caressing me againā¦
"Minnow, it is not selfish to follow your heart, or turn away from what is wrong for you," said a voice.
I wrenched myself out of the water, trembling. I had heard that voice before. Several times. But I could never remember what it said. And where it came from. I was all alone. All I could hear was my own breath.
But I lay back into the cooling bath, and once again, dipped my head under the surface. I was in dire need of counsel, it was true, and I would listen to what this voice was telling me.
"Come and see me, Minnow. Do not give yourself to one who does not love you, only what you are capable ofā¦" said the deep, sonorous voice.
Before I went to sleep, I did think it was not a good sign to be hearing voices. But the voice, although strange, felt familiar. Perhaps it was myself - or my soul? But it was male, I thought, sleepily. And where did it want me to go?
The next day, I sought Anarion, and found him in an antechamber. My decision had been made, in truth it had been made a long time ago, but I now had the resolve to do what I wanted.
"I thank you, Annie, and I am honoured you would ask me. But I cannot. I am not the one for you, and I cannot be your queen. I will never marry you," I said, firmly.
It was something Glorfindel had asked from me, years ago now, that I had failed to give him. A solid refusal. Anarion flushed and turned away. But after a second, he turned back and smiled at me.
"You will change your mind," he said, softly.
"I won't!" I said, exasperated.
"Minnow, be sensible," he said, smiling at me. "You will not get me to promise you anything more by refusing me in this manner. You will never have an offer that will rival mine. I am the king of Arnor, and such elegant and demure tactics are beneath you."
I flushed angrily.
"I am a rational creature, not an elegant lady, speaking the truth from her heart!" I cried.
He crossed his arms and looked down at me.
"I will make you change your mind," he said, and swiftly left the room. I sat down on a small sofa and put my head between my knees until I felt I could face the world again. I should leave for Cardolan in the morning, I told myself. I stood up, and looked out the window. I was two floors up, and I could see for miles. I was keen to be on the road again, I realised.
But the doorknob wouldn't turn. I shook it with both hands. The stupid thing was stuck, I thought annoyed.
He had locked the door behind him, I realised. Rolling my eyes, I walked over to the other door, the one I had come in. It was locked too.
I banged on the doors and shouted for help.
I heard someone shuffling around behind the door, and put my ear to the wood.
"Are we really to keep her locked in?" I heard a young man say.
"Kings' orders," said another voice. I thought it might be a footman.
Slumping onto the floor, I was on the verge of crying but I was too angry. What a child he was, I thought!
Well, I could be patient, too, I thought. A few hours in an antechamber wouldn't kill me. But I had underestimated Anarion. The light dimmed over the next few hours and I only had my wrath to keep me occupied. I fell asleep on the sofa and awoke with a jolt. It was dawn, I realised. Had he really locked me in overnight? But I tried both doors and they were both locked.
"LET ME OUT NOW!" I shouted and banged on the door.
"Have you changed your mind, Minnow?" called Anarion.
"Annie, let me out, this is ridiculous," I said in what I hoped was a calm voice.
"Say yes, Minnow. Say yes and I'll let you out," he said.
"NEVER!" I screamed.
"Then I'm not letting you out," he said, and I heard footsteps. I couldn't believe this treachery.
It seemed someone had been in when I was sleeping and given me a tray of food. And a chamber pot, I saw. I sighed.
I looked at my two necklaces. The seashell from my father. And the golden flower from Glorfindel. I should have given it back to him. But for me, it wasn't over. It would never be over. In my heart, I was still married to him.
I was always going to be in love with Glorfindel. Perhaps, for a second when I was kissing Anarion, I thought Glorfindel could have faded to my first love, a pivotal relationship that we had both outgrown. But for all his faults, no one could ever compare. He had been inflexible but I had been foolhardy. It was an impossible situation and we had both suffered. I couldn't fall in love again because I was still endlessly falling in love with Glorfindel.
This loneliness would be my burden, I thought. Forever. And yet, the grief felt like him. He had imprisoned me too - in a way - in Lindon. But he had wanted to keep me safe. Anarion had just wanted to keep me. I thought he was better than Isildur.
The window wouldn't open more than a crack. I couldn't break down the doors. I was locked in the small room until Anarion came to his senses, which I optimistically thought would be soon.
Incredulously, I woke up every day still incarcerated. When I slept, someone slipped in food and water for me, which I ate sparingly.
"Have you changed your mind?" Anarion would call through the door. I stopped answering and just threw a shoe at the door in response.
He had to let me out eventually, I told myself. And I would never ever forgive him. Lost in my thoughts, I spent my time in reflection. How could I have thought - even for a brief moment - I could marry this man? I hoped when Elwen returned from the north she would be able to convince him to let me out. Unless her trip went so well it was extended? I was lost to dark thoughts for a while.
I had been locked up a week when a door slowly opened in the middle of the night - but this time I was wide awake. I got to my feet, alarmed and wary.
It was one of Elwen's guards! He put his fingers to his lip and gestured for me to follow him. I scooped up my shoes and ran after him.
Two of Anarion's guards lay on the ground, one of whom was snoring. Safran must have knocked them out, I realised.
Quickly and quietly, Safran led me through the backways of the fortress, down many steps until we were outside the walls of the city, I realised with surprise.
"A secret passageway," I whispered to myself, rather redundantly. In the twilight, the fortress looked as ominous and forbidding as it felt. And there was someone in a dark cloak, holding the reins to Neya.
"Berendine told me everything! It's too risky to have her say goodbye, I am sorry. You must flee quickly. I've saddled your horse," whispered Elwen. "I am sorry we will not be sisters, but I am sorrier he locked you up."
"Are we not already sisters?" I whispered back. I embraced her tightly, feeling the tears in my eyes. This was to be the second place I ran away from in the middle of the night, unsafe and fearful for my life.
"Oh Minnow!" she said, wiping tears from her eye with a handkerchief.
"I will see you again , one day, and I will write to you when I can," I said, starting to cry myself. She nodded, and gave me the reins. I saw I had two full saddlebags (I was worried about what she had packed me) I saw. I hastily pulled on my shoes.
Once again, I walked Neya out into the darkness to find my freedom. But this time, I was headed for a new destination. Something I had not seen in a long time: the sea. I needed questions answered. Who in all of Arda was that voice?
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