
by
elora » Wed Nov 08, 2017 5:55 pm
Edholland – 1441
Beregon raked his fingers through his hair and then, irritated, dropped his hand away. He needed to be calm. He needed his wits about him. Tugging at his hair would only convey just how worried and scattered he was and that would never do. He strode through the halls for the library, noting by habit where the household’s staff and retainers were. Almost at the library doors he heard voices from within. A man and a woman spoke quietly with one another. Too quiet for him to be able to make out what was being said but as feminine laughter flowed out to where he stood, Beregon scowled. He had hoped to not have to deal with Halvarin in addition to Mare-Amarwen today.
Before he knew it, his hand was reaching for his hair again. Beregon snatched it away and then pushed into the library. It was not large when compared with those found in cities such as Minas Anor, Pelargir or Osgiliath. A single large room formed the totality of Edholland’s library. Its walls were lined with books that, even in diminished number, must have cost a very pretty penny indeed to acquire. This was all in keeping with everything he knew of the House Stag.
Descendants of Hyarmendacil, and so within the royal circle of Houses, this House was wealthy in a way lesser Houses only dreamed of. Wealthy enough to distance themselves from royal affairs until recent years and focus on trade. Their alliances were well documented, Dol Amroth prominent amongst them. Lady Amarwen was currently the sole heir and thus this was House Stag’s weakness. Until she provided children of her own, the House could be snuffed out as a candle might be. And in that respect, Eldacar’s decision to appoint her head of his rebellion within Gondor was a curious one. Better to appoint someone a little more disposable, given the bloody swathe Castamir had cut through royal descendants.
Still, appoint her Eldacar had and now that Beregon knew who, or rather what she was, he could also understand it. Of any currently still in Gondor, only Amarwen of Edholland could be depended upon to never turn on the king. Not only was she kin, she would never support the man responsible for murdering her parents. Frankly, Beregon thought as he considered Amarwen at the far end of the library, it was embarrassing that he hadn’t put it together earlier.
It wasn’t that midnight hair of hers or the clear grey eyes she possessed. A great many in Gondor had similar features. Nor was it that she was, objectively, beautiful to behold. He’d seen as many beautiful commoners as he had ugly nobles. Rather, it was that air of command she had. She could hide it well, but he had seen her use it. Like countless heirs before her, Lady Amarwen would have been raised from birth on all matters associated with her future position – including all she might need to know should her people and land require her protection. Amarwen had been trained in how make of herself both a sword and shield.
The Lady of Edholland was seated at a table, leaning back in her chair and relaxed as she smiled up at Halvarin. The Guild officer sat, back to the door and facing Amarwen, upon the table. His legs swung idly to and fro and he leaned towards her, speaking quietly. Merriment shone in Amarwen’s eyes as she shook her head slowly at whatever he was saying. Whilst Beregon wore his uniform as Hurian’s Man at Arms, both Halvarin and Amarwen looked to be entirely at their ease. Halvarin had abandoned his Guild coat and his shirt sleeves were rolled up. Amarwen, meanwhile, had availed herself of her wardrobe. Nothing formal, but certainly a better standard of clothing he had ever seen her in before now. Not a patch nor frayed hem or hole was in sight in her red kirtle trimmed with gold.
There was a great deal to be gleaned from this tableaux, from the way in which the pair responded and interacted with other. He had suspected it before now. Michas had suspected it years ago in Osgiliath but now there was little doubt at all. Beregon cleared his throat as he neared and saw her eyes flick to his impatiently as if she had already marked his presence and did not overly much care. Halvarin, though, slid off the table he had perched upon and turned about to regard him.
”What now?” Beregon inquired, deciding to take the bit between his teeth.
Amarwen’s brows lifted at the question, ”I was hoping you might tell me. Have you, or have you not, been leading this year past?”
“I have,” he affirmed, ”But I presume you are here to reclaim it.”
“Well, now,” she replied smoothly, glancing aside to where Halvarin stood, ”That all depends on how much of a mess it is.”
“There’s no mess at all, your Grace.”
“The caches of weapons?”
“Secure and growing, though not as fast as I would like.”
Amarwen drummed her fingers on the table for a moment, ”And what tidings from Rhovanion? Hal, here, has informed me that an army is being raised.”
“If you were a diligent student of your family history, my Lady, you would be aware that raising armies takes time. Particularly when assembling them from a loosely organised people.”
She pressed out a sigh at that and Beregon tried to regain the upper hand, ”Just what are you going to do with that Guild ship in your harbour?”
Amarwen shrugged, ”Lord Hurian is eager to secure an arrangement that would behove Edholland’s coffers quite well.”
“You will to not only trade with Castamir, you are prepared to equip and supply him?!” Beregon asked, astonished at what he was hearing.
”The problem, Beregon, is that you only see and hear that which confirms conclusions you have already reached,” she sighed, ”Edholland will re-supply select ships, those either already sympathetic to Eldacar’s cause or those we are likely to sway. And if Edholland’s coffers grow fat with coin Castamir can not use for other purposes, so much the better.”
He blinked at her, ”You mean to steal Castamir’s fleet from under him.”
“Naturally,” Amarwen answered as he had just asked whether the sun rose in the east, ”Eldacar will need both ocean and river vessels for the Anduin cannot again be allowed to divide his forces as it did before.”
“You don’t have the reach within the Guild.”
Amarwen smiled at Beregon’s statement, ”You are mistaken.”
“One Guild officer is not enough, no matter how satisfactorily he may warm your bed.”
As soon as he said it, Beregon regretted it. Halvarin bristled immediately but Amarwen merely sat back and considered him. A small smile played over her lips.
”This one Guild Officer has done far more than many for our cause,” she said softly, brushing her fingers against the back of Halvarin’s hand, ”Have you anything else to offer, Beregon?”
The question made his jaw bunch, ”No.”
“The matter is settled, then.”
“No, it most certainly is not,” Beregon returned, ”Do you know how many people have tried, and failed, to infiltrate the Guild? What you propose now is a complete reversal of-”
”Do you know which of our people were compromised, aside from yourself? Do you know who the traitor is?”
“No,” he ground out through his teeth, aware that she was firing questions to throw him off balance.
”Two years and not even that,” Amarwen shook her head at him.
”Be that as it may, your Grace, my point stands. For instance, how can you be sure that only sympathetic ships are re-supplied from Edholland. What is to stop Lord Hurian from seeking to expand further?”
“The same thing that prevented him from using my mother’s treasury,” Amarwen answered, ”Lord Hurian desires peace and he is clever enough to know that he will not have it until the king is returned to his throne.”
Beregon switched tactics again, ”Presume, then, that you succeed. Then what? Turn the Guild upon itself and destroy it?”
“The Guild will destroy itself on its current path. I need not lift a finger to bring that to pass,” she said with a toss of her head, ” Gondor needs the Guild if Eldacar is to return. It cannot be done without them. They brought us Castamir and they will take him down once more.”
“They turned their back on your father and slaughtered your mother,” he decried, his words jarring and harsh perforce.
His statement drove Amarwen to her feet.
”Leave,” she declared.
Beregon sketched a mocking bow, ”As you so command, your Grace.”
“If it is command you seek then consider this your instruction: relay this change of strategy, inform them of my return to Gondor and above all, make no effort to interfere with Guild officers unless it has been sanctioned by me.”
As he rose, Beregon eyed Amarwen and in return she lifted her chin. Remote. His jaw ground all the way to the library door and beyond.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Amarwen spread her fingers over the table, her weight resting on her hands and bowed her head as she expelled a breath, ”Why is it that I allow that man to infuriate me so?”
Halvarin set his fingers to running down from her shoulder to her wrist, ”He antagonises you.”
“I know,” she sighed and straightened again, ”He always has, from the outset. Our cause would be better served if we could manage to set such differences aside…but ever he doubts, challenges and condescends. If I was a diligent student of my family’s history?”
She broke off and turned about, her frustration bubbling up anew. It made her restless and so she began to pace towards a window and then turning back to where Halvarin stood, quietly observing.
”He resents your position, Ami,” Halvarin said plainly and Amarwen nodded.
”Belas said as much,” she acknowledged, her expression shifting as she sifted back through her recollections, ”And I try to ignore his jibes, to lead as Mother did, but the stronger I become the harder he seems to kick.”
“Remove him, then,” Halvarin suggested and she sighed.
”Objectionable as Beregon is, he serves a purpose too. He knows his value a little too well, methinks, but I cannot let that obscure his uses. I must, instead, focus on the needs of my people and Gondor.”
“Does Eldacar know of this…dissent?”
Amarwen shook her head, ”Our petty squabbles are the least of his many concerns. It is I he has appointed and it falls to me to resolve this.”
“But if this is how Beregon has been from the outset, that would suggest the issue is intransigent.”
“I will find a way,” Amarwen replied, determined and then looked back to the window, ”Look at us, scheming away a perfectly lovely summer’s day. Our time is so short before the ship will be ready to leave.”
“Two weeks, Silares said this morning,” Halvarin said, walking to where she stood staring out the window, ”Regretting your earlier counsel, my love? I would resign my commission in a heartbeat.”
She wound her arm around his waist, pulled herself to him and rested her head against his shoulder, ”I must put our cause before my own desires.”
“I do not know how I will bear being parted from you,” Halvarin said, his voice soft with sadness.
Amarwen looked up at this and lifted a hand to cup his cheek, ”Nor I, my love, but let us not lose this day to the sorrows that lie ahead. There is still the afternoon to be had, and I have an idea…if your own duties do not require you elsewhere.”
Halvarin shook his head as he grinned down her, ”Shore leave, Silares said, so lead on my Lady. Lead on.”
They quit the library for the kitchens where Amarwen scooped up a basket that had clearly not just appeared out of thin air. She smiled knowingly at Halvarin as he eyed it, for indeed she had set this in motion well before now. Basket in hand, Amarwen led Halvarin out of the halls entirely down the slope away to where one of the two rivers flowed towards their confluence.
”You have been very busy indeed,” Halvarin observed, watching the basket that swung easily from Amarwen’s hand.
He reached for it again but she skipped away, laughing softly. She turned her face up to the sun, drew in a deep breath and then sighted her gaze on their destination. Then she cast Halvarin a mischievous look and darted off down the hill. A glance over her shoulder confirmed that he had set off in pursuit after her and with a wild whoop she put on speed, only slowing when the murmuring of the willow trees could be heard.
”Do you know this place?” she asked, slightly winded as Halvarin pulled up by her side and snatched the basket from her.
He nodded as he looked about.
”Indeed, I do,” he said and threw her a grin, ”And I’ll throw mud at you now as I did then if I am so minded.”
“And I will happily call for the guards this time and enjoying watching them haul you off,” she returned.
”I still don’t know why you didn’t last time,” Halvarin confessed and Amarwen shrugged.
”I’d already gotten what I wanted.”
“Which was?”
“To infuriate you,” she laughed and set off towards the willows.
With a shake of his head, Halvarin followed and they were soon within the trees. Here, the willows held dominion over light and water both. Their long limbs flowed down into the river and made the sunlight dance and shift over the bank. Green became emerald, grey became silver and ebony and brown was transformed into rust and gold. This had been the place that, many years ago, their friendship had first begun. It was little changed since that time and yet as Halvarin moved ahead of her through the shifting light and shadows, he was certainly a child no longer.
She had not known very much of him at all that first day, save that she thought him rude like most boys were. Somehow, she had known without instruction just how to get under his skin and she had set about doing exactly that without compunction as she followed him throughout the day right to this very point and their muddy confrontation. But somewhere along the way her determination to irritate Halvarin had faded into something that was more of a game and throwing mud…well it just so happened that throwing mud was one of her most favourite things to do aside from climbing trees and reading. Whilst Halvarin had been expressing his utmost frustration at her through fistfuls of flung mud, Amarwen had been having the most fun she had had for days.
Halvarin headed along the bank in search of a suitable place to sit and Amarwen followed him past many of the trees she had liked to climb down here where the household retainers and her Mother could not see. It just so happened that her most favourite of all sat across the water on the bank opposing the position Halvarin had selected. As he set down the basket, Amarwen gazed across to the stately willow. It’s branches seemed so slender and tangled now that she could scarcely imagine being small and light enough to slip between them, and yet she had.
”What do you see,” Halvarin asked, setting out the basket’s provender on the ground around his knees.
Amarwen pointed across the ruffled waters of the river, now so high as to reach the banks and running swiftly as the tide pushed in.
”That was my favourite tree to climb,” she said as he turned to see what she pointed out, ”I’d sneak down here and climb in it for hours until someone was sent to retrieve me.”
“I can’t imagine your mother would be overly pleased by that,” Halvarin observed and Amarwen smiled at the memory as her arm lowered.
”No, she feared that I would fall into the water and be swept away. When I heard them calling, I would hurry out of the tree so I would not be found in it.”
“But you would have had to swim across to return to your home,” Halvarin observed and Amarwen nodded, her smile growing.
”And so, when I was returned home dripping and sodden, whoever had been sent to fetch me said that I had been playing on the strand or some such.”
“It does not surprise me in the least that you had the retainers wrapped around your fingers,” he said and then indicated the food set out, ”Why, just look at this! A veritable feast.”
“I know,” Amarwen said as she joined Halvarin upon the grass, ”Let’s not put it waste!”
Soaking in each other and their idyllic surrounds, Amarwen and Halvarin’s conversation ranged widely. Sometimes it was serious, sometimes wry and one or the other was often heard laughing. But, belly’s full and hunger sated, a languorous drowsiness fell over them and so Amarwen found herself seated, leaning back on her hands with Halvarin’s head in her lap. He was quiet, eyes closed and limbs still. Dappled sunlight shifted over his peaceful face and it was almost like he was sleeping but every so often a brow would twitch at his thoughts and so she knew he was not.
Inevitably, her thoughts turned to his departure. Where he would be bound next and for how long was something neither of them knew. Silares had been keeping out of their way since arriving three days ago. That could not endure, though, for tonight the Lord and Lady of Edholland was hosting a dinner for the officers and crew. In the Great Hall. She had yet to venture into that place but she would have to tonight, for she was still Silares’ niece as far as the rest of the crew was concerned.
Amarwen drew in a deep breath and released it as she wondered how she might accomplish this. Halvarin shifted in her lap and she looked down to find he was studying her.
”What is it?” he asked but she shook her head at the question.
She did not wish to darken this moment with him, ”A passing thought.”
Halvarin’s sceptical expression told her he did not believe her but he offered no argument beyond that.
”Do you think you will be able to sway Silares,” he instead asked, revealing something of his own thoughts, ”He has ever been loath to involve himself in politics.”
“I do not intend to ask him to change that,” Amarwen answered, ”The river boats, we will need those willing to fight for Eldacar. The ocean ships, however…it is enough that they are denied to Castamir when he has need of them. If the usurper were to be able to land men behind Eldacar’s lines…”
“But how, Ami? I tell you this, Silares will not destroy his own ship.”
“Silares may well know of those willing to fight. And he will surely know those who, like him, are reluctant to get involved. For those men, I will ask that they put to sea when the moment arrives. No more than that.”
“And when Castamir sends ships to retrieve them?”
“I would hope they would be able to elude such pursuit but if not, if their hands are forced,” Amarwen replied, ”It will be up to the Captain to decide what to do.”
“I have yet to encounter a Captain that will not defend his ship and crew to his last breath,” Halvarin observed.
”Nor I,” she agreed and swept some of Halvarin’s dark hair from his brow, ”Truly, I would be content if they were able to remove themselves. That, in itself, would be enough.”
Halvarin was silent for a heartbeat as he weighed this and then shifted his tack, ”And what of you, love. Will you remain here once I am gone?”
Amarwen shook her head, ”No. It is safe enough within the halls but if I were recognised in Edholland? And, in any case, the less time spent in Beregon’s close proximity the better.”
“Where will you go?”
“Minas Anor springs to mind…or perhaps a return to Osgiliath.”
“Rhovanion?”
“I would be of little use there,” Amarwen replied and then ruefully smiled, ”Though I expect the king would be more than a little anxious for an accounting of myself. Particularly once he receives Beregon’s report on matters.”
“Does that worry you?”
“Not as much as it should, Mother would say,” Amarwen returned and then smiled down at Halvarin, ”There will be time, when all this is done, to pour over who was responsible for which mistake. None of us will have clear ledgers, myself included. But would I not spend this time now worrying about that.”
Halvarin reached up, then, to stroke her cheek and Amarwen’s eyes closed at the tender caress. She would long for such simple things in a matter of weeks…and tonight she would have to pretend as though he didn’t matter at all. At that thought she baulked, refusal welling through so thoroughly that she flinched. Her eyes popped open to look down at Halvarin again. How was she to pretend that this man did not matter? She couldn’t. She simply could not. And then, another thought, wild and sudden, popped into her mind. It made her heart speed. Could she be so daring? Would he think it reckless or improper? Would he be offended?
”Amarwen, say something,” Halvarin said, lifting his head from her lap and rolling onto his side and then to his knees.
She scrabbled to her feet, her hands clutching over the ruby linen of her skirts. Could she do this thing? Now? Here? Should she wait? If she waited and he did not return, then what?
”Amarwen,” Halvarin pressed, perturbed by this sudden shift.
She turned back to find he had risen and was frowning at her, worried.
Amarwen stepped towards Halvarin, her heart in her throat. She could scarcely believe what she was about to do. It felt…right. As if they had always been moving to this very point and so she reached for Halvarin’s hands and clasped them between her own. They were warm and strong and she felt his fingers curl around hers.
”I remember the day I first realised that I loved you,” she said, his expression shifting from concern to surprise.
”When?” Halvarin asked, shyness creeping into his voice that made her heart surge with sudden warmth.
She tightened her hands around his, anchoring them to this moment by the river beneath the willows, ”We had built model ships and there was a wager over whose was the better.”
“I recall,” Halvarin said, being to laugh, ”You marched off down to the shore, tucked up your skirts and waded right in so adamant that yours would best mine.”
“Well, I was the ship wright’s daughter and you were…how did I say it…just a navigator.”
“Who had a good two years of instruction under his belt whilst you had your books and your father’s tales. You never lacked for confidence, though.”
“No…and so there we were, up to our hips in the sea and my dress ruined for which I would earn an earful for later that evening, and we set our models upon the water and mine sank like a stone whilst yours just bobbed along. And you laughed so hard that I thought you were going to fall into the water.”
“You scowled at me so fiercely I thought you’d push me in,” Halvarin observed, chortling now, ”And then, in a high temper, you took off with your chin held high and left me there. Hardly what I would call a moment of sudden affection, amusing as it was.”
“You were laughing so hard that I am not surprised that you missed it. I rushed off because I realised that I loved your laughter more than I wanted to win. And that night, as you basked in your victory, I was baffled as to why that was.”
“I thought you were quiet because you were sulking.”
“Well, that too. Stung pride is stung pride…it wasn’t until after you had left to return to your studies that I realised what had happened. That moment, the sea washing around us and you laughing at the sun and waves as if it was the best moment of your life…that was when I realised that I loved you.”
Halvarin’s chortling faded gently and he lifted his hands to bring hers to his lips, ”You kept that to yourself for years.”
“Yes,” she said, nodding, ”Though not well enough to deceive my mother. Nor well enough to stop entirely from slipping away with you. I was never dallying with you, Halvarin…and I can no longer bear the idea of hiding what it is that you mean to me.”
Halvarin’s mouth opened to say something that fell quiet when he realised that Amarwen was kneeling before him.
”You are my love,” she whispered, ”So much more than a body to warm my bed.”
“I know,” he returned but Amarwen was not finished.
”I…I…” she pulled back, searching for precisely the perfect words.
But then, as she looked up into Halvarin’s eyes, she realised there only the honest words, ”You are my north star, Halvarin. I…I give you all that I am, my love. I give you all that I have and all that I might be.”
“What are you doing, Ami?”
“I am asking you for your hand, Halvarin,” she answered and watched him blink at her.
”You already have my hand,” he said, misunderstanding her intent.
“Marry me,” Amarwen pressed, ”Please, my love? Marry me.”
On her knees before him, her red skirts pooled around her, she stared up into his face and hoped fervently that this would not end as badly as it might. Too soon? Too bold? She could not know for his expression was impossible to read.