Fanfic The Waning Days of 👑King Valacar ~ Seeds of the Kin-Strife of Gondor

[Halasían]

---

That morning Almara woke to find the warmth of Rie-Zunic's arms had left her. Sometime early in the morning. He must have slipped out. She knew where he would be. At work. He was always at work. She thought of following, chasing him down, or finding out where he was stationed that day. She decided against it. Sooner or later, he would come home. That was a surety.

She looked around the house. It was cluttered with, yet with few items. The items needed a home, she thought. A place to call their own. So, she busied herself with cleaning the place up and fixing a meal. Anything to keep her occupied. Else-wise she would go mad with the wait.

Elsewhere Rie-Zunic was on duty in the palace when he noticed Aldamir walk out of a chamber with a Shieldmaiden. "You," Aldamir called to him. "You are of a high rank in the royal guard. I have need of aid, but it must be done discretely."

"Of course," Rie-Zunic agreed. "What is your order?"

"The young women, Amarwen, has fled her chamber. I will see to the mix up being sorted out that brought her here, but in the meantime, she must be retrieved. Go with this woman and find her. Please, bring her back quietly."

"Right away sire," Rie-Zunic agreed.

He and the shieldmaiden strolled off at a hurried pace down the halls. "Why did she flee?" Rie-Zunic asked.

"They were going to force her to be married," the woman responded. "To Aldamir."

Rie-Zunic only scowled, considering the information as they went about their task.


Helda strode off with the officer Prince Aldamir had dispatched to search with her. The palace complex was vast and there was no telling just how much of a lead Amarwen had on them.

”If we are to find her, you must be able to recognise her,” Helda said, preparing to describe their errant noblewoman, ”She has-

“Ï will recognise her,” the officer cut in and before Helda she could challenge the officer’s over-confidence, he continued, ”The lady attended last night’s feast.”

Immediately the Shieldmaiden grinned for Rhinnin had told her all about last night’s feast and one Amarwen of Edhellond – the perfect weapon to deploy against the guard in the watch tower.

Helda nodded knowingly, ”We must split up – I will take the royal quarters and you the gardens.”

“And if she is found?” the officer queried.

Helda shrugged a moment, tempted to say it was best to sit on the young woman for she had a clear inclination to abscond when it suited her to do so. But sitting on a member of the aristocracy, particularly an overwrought and very angry member of the aristocracy, was not likely to be discrete either.

Inform her that the Prince is working even now to put this right and she is best served to return to her lodgings as he does so.”

Rie-Zunic nodded tersely. In this time, they had reached the other end of the hall. Helda nodded to the officer and turned right, towards the royal accommodations, leaving Rie-Zunic with the hall to the left and beyond that, after a few turns, the palace grounds and gardens.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

Aldamir seethed as he prowled the halls of his family’s apartments. The day had started so sweetly. A delightful morning and then Vinyarion with his gambling debts and now this! What could have possessed his parents to take this path? Shaking his head, he swung around a corner only to find Amarwen’s father coming along in the other direction. The man looked worried and distracted and it took him a moment to realise he was not alone anymore. Therald’s head swung up and he swiftly took in Aldamir’s forbidding expression.

The prince began without hesitation, eyes narrowing, ”I had considered you a man of honour, Lord Therald. A man who loved his only child. Only now do I perceive your ambition!”

Lord Therald lifted a hand to his face but let it drop again, ”If it is ambitious to want to protect your people and your daughter, then yes Prince Aldamir. I am ambitious.”

Aldamir frowned, ”I do not understand. Speak plainly, Therald.”

“Shortly after Amarwen came of age, the Master of Ships has sought her for marriage to one of his sons. As his power and influence has grown so too has his boldness.”

”Refuse him!” Aldamir returned.

Therald’s jaw knotted, ”We have, your grace. Repeatedly…and in doing so we have earned his enmity. His overtures became demands and now they are threats – threats a mercantile port such as Edhellond is ill-equipped to defend against.”

And there it was, laid out now. Unless they surrendered their daughter to the Master of Ships or found a suitably powerful alternative able and willing to withstand Castimir’s vengeance, Edhellond was dangerously vulnerable. It was far enough away that the Master of Ships could raze it if he so wished. If he so dared. And he would dare unless Edhellond had a sufficiently powerful alliance to protect them, for if he gained Amarwen of Edhellond he further enhanced his legitimacy.

Therald shook his head from side to side, ”Even here in Osgiliath, Castimir’s agents are moving. Yesterday, one was so bold as to approach my daughter directly and this morning, in the guild halls of Osgiliath itself… I saw little recourse but to advance the signing of contracts – both for Amarwen’s sake and that of Edhellond.”

“I see that we are caught fast in a web not of our own making,” Aldamir observed wearily.

Therald was quiet for a few moments and then swallowed, ”Sire, if it is your will then Edhellond will release you from the contract. Perhaps we could send Amarwen north, far from his grasp.”

Whilst that might save Amarwen, it would do little to protect the people of Edhellond. A powerful alliance with the crown would make Edhellond a target that the Master of Ships might think carefully about before reprisals.

”The contract will stand,” Aldamir said reluctantly for anything less would see either Edhellond attacked or Amarwen drawn into the cruel machinations of the Master of Ships. He could not countenance either and he added, ”I will see to it that sufficient protections are set in place at Edhellond to further discourage the Master of Ships.”

“A chain across the harbour,” Therald suggested immediately and Aldamir nodded.

”A start, certainly…and as for your daughter…she should learn of this not from me but from you. Perhaps, once she is informed, she will come to see this in a different light.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

The gardens! She was finally outside but by daylight the gardens looked quite different to what she recalled from last night. Amarwen remembered a fountain clearly but just now she could see several depending on which direction she looked. There was a spot where there was a gap in the hedges. She had slipped through it only last night with Rhinnin. Unguarded too. If only she could locate it now!

Once through the hedge, she’d make for the docks and hopefully stow onto the boat Halvarin had taken up from Pelargir. He’d told her its name this morning at the library. She could do this. She could really do this. It was terrifying and just a little exhilarating. Amarwen hurried around a trellis thick with trailing rose only to spot a guard hurrying along on the other side. This man did not look like the others she had seen. He was clearly looking for someone. His head turned this way and that restlessly and a moment later he had seen her.

Discovery!

She had not come so far to give up now, though. Amarwen turned and then ran, as fleet footed as ever she had been, in the opposite direction. No matter that she lost a shoe and her hair was now little more than two messy braids bumping down her back as she ran. She was not going to surrender so easily.

Amarwen didn’t dare look back to see if he gained on her. That would cost her precious time. She weaved around fountains and trees and right through one bed of tulips only to find herself face to breathless face with the man she was trying elude. A man who had a better grasp of the garden’s topography than she did. Clear grey eyes wide, Amarwen reeled backwards but he was too quick for her and his hand closed on her forearm.

”Wait!” he panted but panic and outrage made Amarwen try to wrench herself from his grip, ”I mean you no harm, m’lady!”

Still struggling against his grip, Amarwen retorted sharply, ”Then you will unhand me and escort me to the docks at once!”

He wouldn’t, she knew, for his uniform marked him one of the palace guards. His grip on her arm only proved her point. But was there any harm in trying for all she could rely on now was an unreasonable measure of good luck. The man’s hold on her arm loosened a measure. It was firm still and she could not break it, but it was kinder.

Hope lit in her expression as she looked into his face. Please. Please. Please.


"Please, just hear me out," Rie-Zunic requested, his tone serious, yet somewhat sympathetic to her cause. "Aldamir's himself was not even informed of this turn of events! He only discovered what had been done just this morning. He sent me to look for you, bearing his word that he will set this right."

Rie-Zunic, glanced around them, then back to the lady. The gardens were vacant, gladly, as subtly was one of Aldamir's requests. More so he loosened his grip, but kept sure that it would not fail.

Now, with a calmer voice he made his final request. "Please, return to your chamber, only long enough that Prince Aldamir has a chance to right this wrong. He would not have you treated this way, m'lady. He was quite upset when he discovered what had taken place."

He looked Amarwen steady in the eyes, awaiting her response.


Tendrils of black hair had come loose from Amarwen's braids. A breeze pushed one across her face. He was taking her back. Hope became ashes on her tongue and after a long moment, she closed her eyes over tears she would not have him see. Not with her dignity in tatters. Her head wilted and her shoulders slumped. He was taking her back.

When she did not speak further, the officer shifted his weight.

"What say you, Lady Amarwen," he prompted, the concern in his voice only making it somehow worse.

Everyone was concerned. Everyone was dismayed. Everyone, even Aldamir, according to the officer that had apprehended her. And yet no one, it seemed, could do anything! Impotent fury whipped through Amarwen, making her shiver with it.

"Do as you must," she said, head still bowed and eyes closed, her voice flat to her own ears.

With those words, the guard set into motion. He guided her back to where she had lost a shoe. Amarwen shoved her foot back into it, listless, and then was led back towards the palace itself. She felt small and wretched.

Helda pushed out of the palace to see Rie-Zunic drawing up. He had found Amarwen but the state the young woman was in was troubling. She was dishevelled, braids ragged and unwound and her gown was crumpled, hem stained with mud. Had she been running through garden beds, the Shieldmaiden wondered. Worst of all was the terrible expression on Amarwen's face. It was devoid of all animation. Amarwen stared blankly, as if she heeded nothing. Still, Rie-Zunic had a precautionary hand under her elbow.

"No one saw us," he supplied as Helda's scrutiny transferred to him, "The Lady has returned of her own volition."

He was not, she saw, particularly well pleased but it did not appear that there had been a scuffle.

Helda nodded to him, "I will see Lady Amarwen to her rooms."

The muscles in Rie-Zunic's jaw feathered momentarily before he transferred Amarwen to Helda's keeping. In doing so, Amarwen seemed to draw even further into herself if such a thing was possible. Wretched as it was, duty was duty. And the Prince was setting this to rights. Helda towed Amarwen away and soon the two women were lost to sight within the palace. But not before Amarwen looked back to where Rie-Zunic stood, her clear grey eyes filled with a despair that was haunting in one so very young.

 

[Halasían]

When Halvarin and Liswyn arrived at the Bridge Inn, the lady went to the bar and sat up on a stool and ordered a glass of wine. The barmaid looked to Halvarin and he gave a nod to serve her the good vintage. Liswyn smiled and said, ”Have a drink with me, Halvarin of Pelargir.”

Halvarin nodded and ordered an ale. When it was set before him, Liswyn had drained her glass and was ordering another. Halvarin looked at her and said, ”M’lady, the day is young. One should pace themselves for this day will reach well into the night.”

“I just wanted to warm my insides after such a long journey, and the wine tasted so good!” she replied.

Halvarin sipped his ale slightly before asking, ”How old are you Lady Liswyn?”

“I turned nineteen last week. I’m still celebrating!”

Halvarin took a breath and looked around. It was going to be a long afternoon, and Halvarin had to find a way to not have to carry Liswyn over his shoulder to the palace. He sipped his ale and asked, ”Do you like to dance m’lady?”

“Oh yes!” she replied as she looked to Halvarin.

He looked back and said, ”There will be dancing tonight at the palace. You will be presented to the King of Gondor and his son and his sons. Present yourself well m’lady, and maybe a dance with the great grandson of the King will come.”

Halvarin knew he was playing on Vinyarion’s seeming incessant desire for women in hopes to deflect this young woman’s growing desires for him. He said, ”Maybe taking a rest before we go to the Palace is in order?”

Liswyn smiled at Halvarin and said as she took his hand. She said in a quieter voice, ”There will be plenty of time for resting. Like I said, I’m celebrating my birthday, and I am most impressed by the gifts daddy got for me here.”

She ran her fingers up Halvarin’s arm and Halvarin took a couple swigs of his ale. He was unsure what her father would think of her behaviour, and he was equally unsure what Lord Therald had in mind. When Liswyn was given a fresh bottle of wine, she came over to Halvarin and said, ”Do take me to our room kind sir.”

It wasn’t ‘their’ room. It was hers and her father’s. But Liswyn thought otherwise and insisted Halvarin tend to her every need. By the time her father arrived at the inn, it was nearly time to go to the palace. He saw his daughter in an elegant light blue silk gown with a lace trim. Erlech dug around in his trunk and found his dress blues from his days in the Gondorian Navy. He said to Halvarin, ”I’m glad you kept my daughter occupied this afternoon. She can be a hand full. Will you be escorting her to the banquet?”

Halvarin didn’t say anything, but Liswyn was on his arm almost before her father stopped talking. As far as Halvarin knew, he was to meet them and see that they get to the palace in time for the banquet. He still held hope to be dismissed from this duty when they arrive, but it appeared more and more unlikely when Liswyn said, ”Halvarin is a most handsome escort, and he has offered to take me on a tour of the Great Library!”

Halvarin sighed. Yes, he did say he would, and she hadn’t forgotten. He gave a nod to Erlech, and then made the most of an opportunity when Erlech asked Liswyn about her day and they went to sit together. Halvarin said, ”I will go see to the acquisition of a coach to take us to the palace.”

Erlech gave a nod and Halvarin quickly stepped out the door. He took a breath and headed down to the bar. Nadia the barmaid was just getting ready to go off duty, and he went and thanked her for making the arrangements for the room. Fortunately, he didn’t have to arrange for the coach, as it had already arrived. Lord Therald had seen to it, and Halvarin would let the driver enjoy his ale before he went to get Liswyn and Erlech.

When he did finally return to the room, Erlech and Liswyn were ready to go, and Liswyn took an arm of her father and of Halvarin, smiling as they walked out to the front to the coach. The driver helped Liswyn in, and Erlech got in beside her. The driver started to close the door when Liswyn protested,”What about my escort Halvarin?”

The driver looked at his orders, and looked at Halvarin and back to his passengers, ”I only have a manifest for two. I am sorry.”

Halvarin nodded to the driver, feeling somewhat relieved that he didn’t have to go with them. He said to Erlech,”It is all right. I will meet you there.”


The driver gave Halvarin something to read, and Halvarin made his mark on it. It was in Lord Therald’s hand, and he was relieved of his duties to Erlech and Liswyn. The coach was soon on its way, and Halvarin stood by the road as he watched it cross the bridge. Being he had no duty now, and he wasn’t even sure if he was invited to the palace this night, he pondered what he would do. He would eventually go to the palace and seek out Amarwen, but right now, he considered going back to the bar at the inn and truly relax. He paused when he saw a solitary figure walking across the bridge toward him.

It was one of Eldacar’s shieldmaidens. Halvarin lingered until she drew close enough to identify. She saw Halvarin and said,”Well met, sailor of Gondor!”

Halvarin was still in his working blues and probably looked a bit worn out from the day. He gave the shieldmaiden a nod as he said,”Well met lady of Rhovanion.”

Halvarin had not seen any Rhovanions before, and he tried not to look so intrigued by her. She stopped in front of him and said,”Tell me sailor, where does a tired soldier who stood guard all day go here to get a drink?”

“I was just going in here for an ale. Would you like to join me?” Halvarin said, not realising he was stepping across some unwritten boundary in many Gondorian’s eyes.

Rhinnin was quick to remind him. ”I thought the seafarers of Gondor despised our people.”

“Many do, including my own father. Me not so much. I have a mixed opinion as I only wish to see that which makes and keeps Gondor strong. I myself have seen no ill come from King Valacar’s union with a Rhovanion princess.” Halvarin looked at the blonde shieldmaiden and said, ”I am Halvarin of Pelargir, Ensign in the navy and studying navigation.”

Rhinnin smiled as Halvarin offered her a slight bow of honour. She said, ”I am Rhinnin of Rhovania, shieldmaiden of the Royal Rhovanion Guard of Eldacar.”

“It is an honour to meet you m’lady. Would you be open to me buying you a drink of your choice?”

Rhinnin smiled coyly and took a deep breath. She remembered the first time her shield-sisters ventured across the bridge. Vilmaith ended up in bed with a barmaid. She would not lose her head on this excursion as Vilmaith did. She looked to Halvarin and said,”I would normally decline, but in this instance I accept. You have been the politest Gondorian I have yet met, and to think you are a Naval Officer.”

Halvarin smiled and laughed a little at her words. He felt at ease talking with her, which was quite a change compared with the day in the presence of Liswyn. The two walked to the Bridge Inn and they went to the bar. It was somewhat busy, and they stood and waited for a time. When the bartended walked past him without looking for the fourth time, Halvarin reached out and grabbed his arm, ”Excuse me sir, my friend and I would like to order a couple ales.”

The bartender looked at Rhinnin and said to Halvarin, ”We don’t serve her kind here.”

Halvarin paused for a moment as he was confronted with this blatant prejudice. When the bartender tried to move on, Halvarin again grabbed him and pulled him back. A couple mugs fell from the shelf behind the bar and made a rattling noise that drew a few people’s attention. Halvarin had pulled the bartender close to his face as he grabbed his tunic front.

He said to him, ”Do you serve my kind here?”

The bartender nodded quickly, and Halvarin realising that he was starting to draw attention, let go of the bartender’s tunic and straightened it. He said, ”Good, because I’m twice as thirsty now. I’ll have two full tankards if you please.”

The bartender hurried to the tap and Halvarin pulled out enough silver coin to pay for it and the broken mugs. He lay it on the bar and took the two tankards. He turned and said to Rhinnin, “Come, let us go outside and sit. The air in here stinks.”

They found a table that overlooked the steps to the door and they sat. Halvarin slid a tankard to Rhinnin and said to her, “I am sorry for this. I would not have gotten ales from him, but you said you were thirsty after your duty. Why do you come over here? I hear there are places much more friendly to Rhovanions in the North Quarter.”

Rhinnin shrugged as she took a drink of the fresh ale. She sat the tankard down and Halvarin smiled, looking at her foam lip. She wiped it and said, ”I don’t know. I just felt like seeing the east of the city. My shield sisters came over here our first day in the city and had quite the time. Guess I wanted to see it for myself. Had I not crossed the bridge, I would not have met you, and I would not be drinking this ale right now.”

Halvarin shook his head. He didn’t like what he had just experienced, but hoped it was an isolated case. Little did he know what was coming.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

As her father spoke, solemn and sorrowful, Amarwen's thoughts spiralled. They spun about, increasing speed until she felt dizzy. Just as well, then, that she was seated as she presently was. Behind her, she could hear water being emptied in the copper tub. The two maids had arrived whilst she was trying to escape. They were diligently heating water. As if a warm bath could solve this, or the soft shawl that had been set over her shoulders for that matter. Temporary, they had said. This was being put to rights, she had been told. None of it was so. Not a word of it.

"Why has this been kept from me?" she asked in a voice that was dull and flat with anger, "Why was I permitted to think I had any choice in this matter? You allowed me to build hope for a future that you knew could never be!"

She drew in a shuddering breath as her words hung in the parlour.

"Ami…dear heart, it was not until I gained the Guild Hall this morning and saw what was afoot that I realised just how close to peril we were."

Her father leaned forward, hoping to catch her eye. Amarwen instead looked down to her lap. There, her fingers were white. She had wound the ends of the shawl around them so tightly that they had gone numb. Amarwen released her grip and watched the shawl unravel and blood return to her fingers. She repeated the process again, still in silence. His answers did little dull her anger and changed nothing. It was not fair, of course. It made her desperately sad, but she knew where her obligation lay.

Sheltered though they were in Edhellond, so far removed, she still knew of the tensions simmering. She knew of the Master of Ships, growing fat with ambition as he waited, waited, waited. Castamir was a powerful foe. One so powerful that only the crown could now oppose him…and there were some who whispered that he was even too powerful for them.

The life she knew, the one she had dreamed and wondered and planned for, was gone. She would not raise a family of her own in the halls of Edhellond, nor build a new fleet of merchant ships designed by her own hand. She would lose her home and all the friends she had there too. A steward would have to be appointed to Edhellond when she seceded her mother for Aldamir would certainly not settle there, so far from the royal court. And Halvarin…his father had not looked kindly upon their friendship of late and her marriage to Aldamir would likely prove the final straw.

She would lose everything and everyone she knew. The weight of it sat heavily on her shoulders. The wide world, with all its bright potential, had folded in. It suffocated her and made her stomach churn. Still, her duty was clear. In all matters, most especially this, she served her people first. Anything less was a betrayal of her people and the faith and fealty they placed in her and her mother. This, then, was the price to be paid for their protection…and how could she put her own hopes and desires ahead of their lives?

"Do you understand what I have said, Ami?" her father prompted.

Amarwen briefly looked up and saw his eyes bright with sorrow. It was too much to bear. He carried so much already that she could not add her father's remorse or grief.

"Yes," she replied as her eyes returned to her lap. Her fingers were white again.

Therald watched his daughter, wan and silent for a moment longer. His guilt, at keeping this from her, for perhaps contributing in ways he could not have of foreseen years ago when courting her mother, gnawed at him. Neither he nor Alenna could have known of the rise of the Master of Ships. Edhellond was largely independent, their royal descent lending them rank and wealth enough to be free of the ever-shifting tides of the royal court. His marriage to Alenna had shaken a number of alliances laid down over previous generations, but most had recovered. Those that had not were unfortunate but acceptable losses.

Until a year ago. He blamed himself, for he had been so proud of his daughter that he had spoken of her widely over the years. He had boasted of her attributes for there were so many. Perhaps if he had been more circumspect, particularly when in Guild Halls, but it was too late for that now. He had basked in his pride and joy and now here they were.

The only thing that stood between the displeasure of the powerful Castamir and ruin for Edhellond was this final measure. That it came at so high a price pained Therald. Were there any other way he would leap at it in a heartbeat. He and Alenna had tossed and turned over this for months, wondering how much longer they could rebuff the Master of Ships. A foe too powerful for Edhellond to oppose and too abhorrent to appease.

He wanted to take his daughter into his arms and comfort her. He wanted to bring her home with him, for the halls would be far too silent and cold without her laughter ringing through them. None of this could be done.

"As soon as I return to Edhellond, I will have your possessions sent to you. Your books, your music, your lyre, your bow and quiver. In Osgiliath, just imagine what will be at your fingers. You could visit the Great Library every day if you so wished!"

Still his daughter was silent, head lowered as she struggled under the weight of what she must do. She had stopped trembling. Amarwen was strong, he knew. She had the same seam of steel running down her spine as her mother did. This was a grievous blow but she would recover, of that he was certain. When she was much younger, she would sneak off down to the river and climb amongst the willow trees despite being told not to. And, as children are wont to do, she would fall out of the trees.

Sometimes she would cry out, fear mostly aside from that one time she managed to break her arm. Her distress would never last long, though, and always she would climb back up into the tangled willows. Now, as then, Amarwen would pick herself up. Difficult as it was to be unable to spare her from this, he knew that she would not be broken by it.

Behind her chair, the two maids bowed their heads. The bath they had drawn was ready and pushing Amarwen any further would achieve little. Therald rose from his seat, came forward and kissed his daughter's lowered head.

"It has been a difficult day, but they will not all be like this," he said, his words uncannily echoing those of Princess Farien.

But what did her father know of how difficult this was? He had been able to wed for love. Not duty. Not obligation. Not compunction. His marriage had been one of choice rather than duress. Bitterness welled up within her, bubbling through a thick mat of anger at what was and grief at what might have been. She pushed it away, exhausted.

Only after the doors closed on her father's heels did Amarwen look up. She stared at the doors and then the parlour she was sitting in. The maids were waiting behind her. This, then, was to be her home now. A gilded cage. The trunk she had brought with her to Osgiliath had arrived, its contents already unpacked and put away. On the bed, remade from the ruin she had left it in, lay the gown she was to wear tonight. It was a thing of silver samite, the same colour as her eyes. Slowly, Amarwen gained her feet.

"When you are ready, my lady," said one of the maids softly.

Amarwen turned about and made for the copper tub. The maids, her maids now, fell in after her. They assisted her out of her muddy clothes and carefully smoothed out the snarls and tangles of her hair. They were gentle and she could not fault them for their ministrations, yet it was as she had expected it. The warm, fragrant water did little alleviate her sorrow.

 

[Halasían]

Rie-Zunic went about his duties that day, highly troubled by the activities as of late. He did not know the details of Amarwen's presence and why they held her. He wondered why such a thing would be done. All the same, he went about his daily duties.

When his duties we're ended, Rie-Zunic walked back to his small house. He opened the door, and almost reached for his sword. Everything was different! Someone had been in his house! Then he remembered, as Almara stepped into view.

Rie-Zunic sighed, "I thought you would be gone."

"And where am I to go?" She asked.

"Back to the guildsman," Rie-Zunic's words held a tone of mockery. Almara only glared at him. He looked back, "You can't stay here."

"I can't go back," Almara told him. "I might agree with their ideals that our blood should not be mixed with others... But if this escalates to violence... I can't be found fighting on the side opposite you."

"Are you telling me that they are planning something?" Rie-Zunic asked.

"Something..." Almara answered. "What, I am not sure..."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

"I see no reason why this must proceed. Edhellond has long been an ally. Why is it that we require of them a daughter to protect their lands, a part of our realm, from the predation of a man known to covet the throne?"

Aldamir paused but he was unable to take stock of his father's response for Eldacar had yet to turn around. All he could see was the spread of his father's shoulders. Aldamir drew a breath, "It must seem a particularly cruel and capricious fate indeed to condemn a young woman standing upon the cusp of her life to wed a stranger old enough to be her father. We are better than this. I know we are. If we proceed with this arrangement, it will foment further unrest among our people."

His father's silence continued but he had said his piece as bluntly as he could. He watched his father warily, for under ordinary circumstances such impassioned pleas came from his elder brother. And rarely were they about affairs of state, for that matter.

"This is unfortunate," his father slowly replied, "I was not aware that Lady Amarwen was so stridently opposed to the notion."

Strident, Aldamir thought to himself with a shake of his head. According to Helda, a fully armed senior soldier had to capture the lady in the gardens. That was more than strident opposition to a notion by a great deal.

"I propose that we approach Lord Therald with an alternate offer. We should defend Edhellond irrespective and protect Lady Amarwen, of course, but to require marriage...I do not think it necessary or wise."

Eldacar pressed out a sigh at this and turned to face his youngest son, "Vinyarion is your only child and your brother has yet to wed or produce an heir, legitimately or otherwise. The Master of Ships is a wolf in the shadows waiting for any opportunity. If the throne is to follow the Line of Kings, as it must to assure the prosperity of our realm, this vulnerability must be assuaged."

Aldamir stared at his father and then shook his head, "If Amarwen is taken to wife against her will, the Master of Ships will use that to incite unrest. It will make us more vulnerable. Even should her parents consent and approve the match, how is this any different to what Castimir himself attempts?"

"And so she must do so willingly," Eldacar ignored Aldamir's doubtful expression to add, "Or at least give the appearance thereof."

"Have we truly fallen so low as this?" Aldamir pressed and Eldacar turned for his desk.

Upon it, a countless number of reports of varying degrees of concern. His father, though Eldacar loved him, had created a disaster that even now Eldacar feared he could not bring to heel. Distasteful as this was, and it was most certainly that, if it secured the Line of Kings he was obligated to proceed or they would fall lower still.

"Desperate measures for desperate times, my son," Eldacar replied, wearied, washing a hand over his face, "I recommend that you ready yourself for the evening's commitments. There is a ranking officer up from Pelargir and he is to be presented with his daughter."

In silence, then, Aldamir stalked out of his father's study. He was as impotent as Amarwen was to stop this, yet it seemed monstrous to him to proceed. If Ornedil would but wed and produce heirs.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Vinyarion bounded through the doors and into the parlour just in time to catch a maid drying her hands as she came from the bathroom.

"Oh!" the woman squeaked, startled and then recovered to curtsy. It was not this maid, or indeed any, he had come to find though. For once. "Your Highness," she said warily as she came to her feet again.

"Is she here?" Vinyarion asked at once.

"Whom do you seek?" the maid inquired but Vinyarion's impatience got the better of him and he pushed on to the doors he knew would lead into a private sitting room.

The maid shouted in alarm just as he pushed them open to discover that the layout of this apartment was quite different to his own. Or that of any of his other family. All he saw, properly, was a long dark fall of wet, black hair and the panicked expression of another maid waving her arms at him. There was a whole lot of other things to see too but he really did not have the opportunity to take those in and enjoy them, savour them properly a beautiful woman, discovered straight from her bath.

"You cannot go in there, your Highness!" said the maid he had just pushed past and the doors slammed shut for emphasis.

"I did not know -" Vinyarion paused as he heard what he was saying. He knew no one would believe him and so the sceptical, disapproving look on the maid's face came as no surprise. He amended his approach, "She's family, or soon to be in any case. Why, she might as well be my sister."

At that, from beyond the closed doors, he heard the faint sound of women disagreeing. Then they popped open and sure enough, Amarwen of Edhellond was there. Clothed this time, in a robe she had thrown over herself and her wet hair. Water still glistened on creamy skin...Vinyarion shook his head. Sister, he reminded himself. Or mother...was that how it worked?

"How is it that you know?" Amarwen demanded immediately.

Vinyarion shrugged, "Half the palace talks of it."

He squinted for if he was not very much mistaken, it looked like Amarwen was about to burst into tears, "I thought you'd be pleased."

"Pleased?" Amarwen's voice shook.

Vinyarion shrugged, "We didn't exactly get along very well, last night, and so it must come as a relief that we are not to be..."

When she turned away her expression was so desperately sad that he began to think that perhaps, he shouldn't say that he was pleased he did not have to marry her. In his experience, women could get a little emotional when he pointed that out.

"Why have you come here?" Amarwen asked, her voice strained. "Does Halvarin know? Has he heard?"

"I do not know," Vinyarion replied. "Not seen Hal since....this morning."

At this Amarwen turned back and indeed, she had been weeping. Her tears turned her grey eyes silver and they shone brightly as she considered the two maids watching on. "Please, leave us."

"M'Lady, it is not proper-"

Amarwen swallowed thickly, "Prince Vinyarion is to be my kin. What manner of misconduct do you suggest I might engage in?"

Nothing that had not been tried in the past, Vinyarion wryly thought though he was wise enough to keep that to himself. Smiling, Vinyarion watched the two maids withdraw.

Once they had repaired to Amarwen's bedroom, he quietly observed, "I think I might enjoy having you here."

Amarwen ignored that entirely, "Your Highness, though we do not see eye to eye, I have something to ask of you."

She stepped closer to speak on and the scent of her freshly bathed skin enveloped him. It would have been distracting were it not for what she said. Vinyarion sobered immediately. It was risky. What she asked for, if discovered...it was a whole mess of trouble of the like that made even him pause. But, Halvarin was his friend...and Amarwen, well he'd never been particularly good at saying no to a pretty face. He set out what he would do. The Dome of Stars was best. It was closest to the palace and at night, late enough, few traversed its halls. A fact he had exploited more than once for various assignations. He knew how to get in and out unobserved.

Risky as this was, it was also marvellous mischief...and if it went some way to easing his assorted gambling debts, then so much the better. First, he had to get word to Halvarin so that he got himself quietly to the Dome of Stars around midnight - alone. Most definitely alone. Next, he'd have to check on who was assigned the watch and see to it that their heads were turned. Then, the two maids. Risky, but not insurmountable and so he set off with a jaunty wave to Amarwen, whistling to himself.

Finding Halvarin was the first order of business and that proved difficult when one was avoiding various individuals intent on collecting their winnings. Finally he managed to track down his friend seated outside a tavern with one of his father's Shieldmaidens, of all people. Rhinnin offered him a broad smile. This was not ideal, but better Rhinnin than any of the others. Even Helda might baulk at this.

"What are you doing this evening, Hal?" he asked, sitting down without being invited.

Halvarin eyed him cautiously, "I am dicing nor playing cards with you."

"No plans?" he pressed and Halvarin sat back, looking very much like he had plans but was not inclined to divulge them.

"I have an idea!" Rhinnin piped up, eager to contribute.

Vinyarion waved that aside as he eyed his friend and Halvarin shrugged, "Nothing specific. Catch the sleep I missed last night, on your account?"

"I have an idea!" Rhinnin repeated, more forcefully this time.

"Dome of Stars," Vinyarion said and Rhinnin scowled, "There is nothing to do there!"

"I've already been today," Halvarin added to the Shieldmaiden's observation.

Vinyarion leaned in towards his friend, "You will want to return again. Alone, unmarked, just after midnight."

Halvarin frowned, "Vin, I have nothing to pay off your debts with, as I said before, and I-" Vinyarion leaned in closer to whisper a name that made Halvarin fall silent. As he leaned back again, Rhinnin muttered about young men and how rude they could be.

"Trust me, it is important, Hal. You want to go."

"Why?" he said, catching something in Vinyarion's tone, "Has something happened? Is she in some sort of trouble?"

"Just get yourself there," Vinyarion stated and leaned back in his chair to consider the two tankards on the table, "Say, there isn't a third one of those lurking, perchance?"

At the question, Rhinnin snatched up her tankard and held it possessively. Not that he was thirsty or foolhardy to wrestle a Shieldmaiden for an ale, in any case. Halvarin was still preoccupied and so Vinyarion took a swig of his friend's ale and stood.

"No matter, things to do, people to see, very good friends counting on me," he said and set out once more. Next up, the guards...and just what he was going to use to turn their heads now that he was all out of coin. Better shifts sprang to mind for no one wanted to pull guard duty at night. He could sneak a few through his uncle, he knew. He and Ornedil got on like a house on fire and that had proved useful to him more than once. Tonight would be no different.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

Helda paused, frowning at her unfamiliar surrounds. She rarely ventured into this part of the city, chiefly owing to its paucity of taverns and ale houses. That she was here now was not a happy circumstance.

Curse that officer, which street had he scurried down, the Shieldmaiden thought to herself. She'd already been down one, peering through windows as discretely as a tall Rhovanion armed to the teeth with fiery hair might manage. In retrospect, Helda considered, perhaps she should have divested herself of some of her armaments. She peered down the street she had just hurried out of and discover that the householder that had observed her peeking through his window had abandoned his pursuit. Or, perhaps he had gone back to marshal further assistance. Hard to know until she saw the torches and pitchforks and that was something that, oddly, she wanted to avoid.

The Shieldmaiden had not come for sport or her own personal amusement. Eying another street, she set off once more aware that nightfall was not long off. That might offer her cover but once darkness fell, curtains or shutters would be drawn and espying the officer Aldamir had tasked with locating Amarwen would prove nigh to impossible.

She skulked from house to house, garden to garden, pausing when she saw a familiar flash through the window. She drifted back surreptitiously to check and to be sure, she saw the uniform of a royal guard. His back was to the window but she was reasonably sure it was him. As much as she could be without even having his name.

The Shieldmaiden gained the little path that led to the door, drew a breath and raised a fist gauntleted in leather, to knock. And she would have, had the door not been suddenly yanked open to reveal the pointiest end of a sword.

Helda smiled at it, "Nice work, though there is one small nick along the-"

Before Helda could finish her assessment of its well kept edge, she was pulled inside and the door slammed after her. As her eyes adjusted to the dim interior, the Shieldmaiden thought she heard movement from deeper in the house. Did the guard have family, she wondered?

"Why have you followed me home?" demanded the man she was wondering about.

"To talk," she answered and his sword, still drawn, tapped her weapons belt. Helda grimaced at a table and chairs, "What can I say? I like to be prepared."

"Take it off. Lay it on the table."

The guard's voice was flat and stony. Helda chewed his words over, sighed, and set about unbuckling it as requested. Once she had done that, she set about unslinging her shield as well. That same sword appeared under her chin.

"Do you want me unarmed or not?" she inquired testily, for unless a man had seen a Shieldmaiden fight in full blooded combat they would perhaps not grasp that a shield was not purely armour.

The officer stood back, sword still at the ready, and Helda resumed unarming herself. It took, in all, a good ten or so minutes but she liked to be thorough. It had been quite some time, months and months, since Helda had been freed of all weapons. She felt curiously light, or would have were it not for the disturbing thoughts on her mind. The officer took in her presence with a sigh. His sword scraped back into its sheath.

"Well," he pointedly inquired, arms crossed over his chest, "Talk."

The officer was silent, waiting her out. Now that she was here, she found it difficult to speak. Helda grumbled, "It would be easier if I had your name."

"Rie-Zunic."

"What sort of name is-" Helda bit off her question as his expression darkened and changed tack, "I am-"

"I know who you are. I know what you are. Say what you have come to say, Shieldmaid Helda."

"What happened today was abhorrent," Helda replied and finally she saw a crack in Rie-Zunic's expression. It flickered for a moment before he sealed it up once more.

Rie-Zunic spoke, "She returned of her own volition."

"On the understanding that the marriage would called off," Helda countered.

Rie-Zunic went very still as he took in what she had said. "And was it?"

Helda grimly shook her head from side to side. Braids the colour of fire swayed with the movement and her piercing blue eyes were locked on his. "Amarwen of Edhellond is to be wed to Prince Aldamir whether she wills it or not."

Movement from the corner of her eye drew Helda's attention aside to take in the appearance of...one of the Pelargir mercenaries! Her reaction was instinctual as she recoiled. Not for the weapons she had piled on the table but for the shield. A Shieldmaiden always went for her shield first. The mercenary, however, did not move. She stared at Rie-Zunic for a moment, long enough for Helda to pluck up her shield and position it before her. Her head throbbed, reminding her precisely then of the incident only yesterday. She crouched, ready to spring into action but neither the mercenary nor Rie-Zunic moved. Which was odd, considering the officer had to be surprised to find a Pelargirian mercenary lurking in his home.

"What is this, Rie Zunic," the mercenary inquired of the officer.

From behind her shield, Helda added, "That is what I wish to know!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

 

[Halasían]

Halvarin looked over as Vinyarion left. He could see the disturbed foam line in his tankard, so he looked to Rhinnin and said, ”He took a swig of this didn’t he.”

Rhinnin giggled slightly and sipped her own and nodded. Halvarin shrugged and said, ”Damn, that… was my friend Prince Vinyarion. I was hoping to see if that bartender would serve his kind, being he’s one quarter Rhovanion. Oh well, he likely didn’t have enough coin in his pocket for a half flagon.” Halvarin downed a fair amount of his ale, and as he smiled at Rhinnin, he asked, ”So what is this idea you have?”

“Oh, I was going to challenge you and your friend to a drinking contest. If anything I would be able to get a few pints squeezed out of that bartender.”

Halvarin laughed. He then said, ”Well, it appears I need to be somewhere ere midnight comes, so that probably isn’t a really good idea. But if you wish to walk with me back west, I’ll buy you an ale at the West Bridge Tavern.”

Rhinnin swirled her ale in her tankard and smiled as she watched it. She looked up to Halvarin and said, ”Well… as much as I want to walk around the east city, I’m thinking it would be best if I go with you m’lord.”

Halvarin finished his ale and shook his head before saying, ”I’m no lord m’lady, I’m just an Ensign second class studying navigation.”

“And I’m no lady. I’m a twice braided Shieldmaiden who was handpicked by Prince Eldacar.”

Halvarin stood up as Rhinnin finished her ale. She stood and Halvarin offered his arm as Rhinnin came around the table.

”Well twice braided shieldmaiden, may this second class Ensign escort you to our next stop?” Halvarin chuckled and they set off toward the bridge. He considered it best that she not go carousing around on the east side.

Along their walk, Rhinnin and Halvarin talked of her home in the north and his home in the port city of Pelargir. They talked of the abrasive nature of the attitudes of many Gondorians of the Rhovanions, and the pride the Rhovanions held in serving a Prince of Gondor. Their talk over ales at the West Bridge Tavern came to the looming cloud that lingered over Gondor Halvarin said, ”My head says that this kingdom is strong, and I am a part of its great naval glory. But my gut, and my occasional dream, tells me that with this strength, comes destruction and darkness. I wish for peace with your people and mine Rhinnin of Rhovanion.”’

Rhinnin nodded and looked at her ale. The tensions between the Mariners and the Rhovanions were as plain as day at the tournament. She considered Halvarin as she finished her ale. As much as she would not mind spending more time with him, she knew he had eyes for another. She said to him, ”This has been wonderful, and the night has not gone as I had thought. I made a new friend tonight, a Mariners Guildsman no less. But I am done for the night, and I believe you need to get to this ‘Dome of the Stars’ that Vinyarion spoke of. May this night bless you Halvarin of Pelargir.”

She set her tankard down and gave him a quick bow and turned and walked away. Once outside and well away from the tavern, Rhinnin paused and turned and watched. It was not long before Halvarin left the tavern and made his way toward the royal quarter of the city. Rhinnin sighed and went back to her quarters.


Halvarin walked into the Great Library and looked at the Dome of the Starts glistening under the clear night sky. Judging by the light patterns on the floor, he guessed he was there before midnight. He sat by the fountain and listened to its waters as he measured in his head the distance between star beams. He pondered everything he had seen and heard since coming to Osgiliath. In the two days, it seemed the world had changed. His best friend from childhood, one whom he loved, was out of reach for him. She was destined to be a royal wife, and he was destined to be the lover of a young daughter of a shipwright or a wayward guildsman in a tryst with a shieldmaiden. No, he would hold to hope ever fading, as the prospects for peace in Gondor seemed to fade.

His long pondering thoughts that were adrift as if on the sea was broken when he heard a sound at the doors…

---

I plan on continuing this, but I seemed to have misplaced my edited word document where I marked where I was up to. Once I get my edited document sorted out, I continue.