Author’s Note: I am pleased with this chapter so I hope you like. Slayer, I actually rewrote this chapter to make it lengthier just for you. ***Smile**

Early the next morning, a festive group was assembled on the grounds outside Meduseld. The morning air was crisp and pungent with the fragrance of wet grass from the recent torrential downpour. Fortunately, the rain had ceased in the wee hours of the morning rendering the dirt tracks fairly manageable for the commencement of the journey to Minas Tirith. The travelers were judiciously adorned in dark riding garments for the trek homeward. Some were already mounted on their horses patiently awaiting AragornÂ’s orders while others remained dismounted chatting amongst themselves.

“And Eomer has no idea as yet that one of his esteemed horses might be lost to him?” Melian was asking Eowyn who stood beside Faramir.

“No,” Eowyn replied. “I prefer to have the stable hands exhaust all possibilities before exposing them to Eomer’s wrath.”

“I certainly hope their efforts to recover the horse are successful,” Melian returned sincerely. She noticed that Amandil had her horse ready and turned to Eowyn saying, “I must say my farewell now. We hope to see you soon in Minas Tirith.”

“You shall,” Eowyn replied with a trace of sadness. Farewell, Melian, until we meet again.”

The couple watched as Amandil aided Melian in mounting her horse. “I shall dearly miss them,” she softly told Faramir who gazed down admiringly upon her sweet face.

“Just pray the hands of time will progress swiftly,” he returned.

“Is that your strategy to cope during our separation?” Eowyn was smiling curiously at him.

“Not quite. My labors will most likely be instrumental in accelerating our time apart.” He turned to Eowyn, an expression of thought on his face. “I intend to begin the preliminary drafts for the construction of our home in Ithilien. When you visit Minas Tirith in the next few months, I should very much like your opinion on the drafts. At that time, anything you wish to be altered would be done.” He tilted her face upward. “I would like our home to be the result of our shared vision.”

Eowyn could not help smiling. Her intended husband was even more selfless than she had anticipated. At that moment she felt as though she was the most fortunate woman in the entire world. His excellent qualities continuously endeared her to him and never did she think that her love could grow any deeper. Yet it did. “My lord, have I told you just how much you will be missed?”

Faramir smiled. “You did this morning but it will certainly warm my heart to hear those fair words again.” Eowyn chuckled. She glanced around at the others who appeared oblivious to their private flirtations. “Fear not, my lady, the others are too engrossed in their own chatter and musings to heed the two lovers exchanging farewells near the royal stables.”

Eowyn blushed. “My lord, you astonish me!” she exclaimed jestingly.

“Do I?” Faramir asked. “Have you not known me long enough to know I speak plainly when ever I am in your superb company?”

“This is too much,” Eowyn declared. Her face was blissful. “However, it re-affirms my confidence in the return of your love. I shall not protest then.”

“That you shall not,” Faramir returned. “I shall not hear of it.” He had already begun to pine for that day next year when he could finally whisk her away to the ecstasy of their new life. The time apart will undoubtedly be a trial of his patience, but he reasoned that the project of building their home should lessen the pain of separation that he might experience at times.

Eowyn’s face suddenly became sober. “My lord, the others are ready to depart,” she informed him. Sure enough, when Faramir turned to look, Aragorn was assisting Arwen unto her horse.

“Our farewell ends here then, my lady. I shall keep you here,” he said, resting his hand on his heart, “until we meet again. I hope it will not be long.” He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them lovingly. “Farewell.”

“Farewell, my lord. My thoughts are with you until our next meeting,” she said lovingly. He kissed her hand one last time before alighting his horse. He reluctantly guided his horse to join the large assembly of riders awaiting the king’s command.

While Faramir and Eowyn had been conversing, Aragorn and Arwen were speaking with Eomer about EorlondÂ’s former master.

“Later today I plan on sending a summon to have him appear before me. I would very much like to hear his story,” Eomer was saying.

“Whatever you decide his fate should be, I know you will do it impartially,” Aragorn offered. Arwen was standing beside him with her arm hooked within his arm.

“Yes, well, I cannot imagine what he can claim in his defense. Nevertheless, my decision will be fair.”

Aragorn nodded. “I fear my friend, that the time now approaches in which we must depart. I would like to cover a considerable distance today.”

“Let us hope that the roads prove manageable most of the way. It is difficult to believe that last night’s torrential downpours did not wreck some kind of havoc in the way of grassy quagmires and other surprises of that nature.” Arwen interjected.

“Yes, we have to tread cautiously when need be. I would loath to cause injury to any of these horses. As it is, we have very few to spare,” Aragorn added.

“You should be fine most of the day’s journey,” Eomer informed them. “There is only need to worry if you reach beyond the fields today. The dirt is relatively loose in that area and the crossing might prove precarious. By tomorrow it should be safe to venture further contingent upon the perpetuation of this pleasant weather.”

“Good. I would like to arrive in Minas Tirith on schedule,” Aragorn said. He signaled for his knights to bring their horses forward. Carefully, he assisted Arwen in mounting her horse then proceeded to mount his own. They both extended their gratitude to Eomer for accommodating them over the past week and voiced their hope of seeing him soon in the White City. Eomer accepted their invitation and promised that he would ride forth within several months. He then wished them a safe journey before retreating to join Eowyn who still stood near the royal stables solemnly watching the scores of riders make ready to depart. Aragorn gave the order and the captains and knights started their horses toward the gates of Edoras. The banner of the White Tree blew in the gentle breeze as the procession of riders moved onward. The company rode on through the gates issuing into the wide-open fields.

They rode on for many hours halting only once to replenish their strength. There was a marked difference in the company. Gone were the inquisitive and amusing chatter of the hobbits, the lighthearted spirits of the elves of Lorien and Imladris, and the melodious chorus of elvish singing, which had become a form of daily entertainment along their route to Edoras. Arwen, Melian, and Aragorn felt it most acutely but strove to make light of it. It was the beginning of a new chapter in their lives and it was reassuring to know that at least some of their loved ones remained to share in it. New pages of memories would now be created while the old ones persisted. But the journey homeward was somber. Faramir seemed preoccupied with his own private thoughts and was relatively unresponsive. Melian tried twice to engage him in conversation, but relented after her attempts proved futile. Prince Imrahil apologized on FaramirÂ’s behalf claiming that the poor lad was suffering from the love malady. But, ever the conversationalist, he quickly engaged Melian in a discussion of the Golden Wood. She was eager to oblige him in an effort to repel the boredom that already threatened to engulf her during this initial stage of the journey.

Arwen rode ahead with Aragorn. For a moment, she almost repented her choice of leaving her maidens behind in Minas Tirith. Had they journeyed with her, she was convinced that the returning party would be comparatively less dispirited than it proved at present. But she had persuaded Melian that the company was much too plentiful for unessential numbers. Consequently, they had both decided that a single waiting lady would accompany them. In hindsight, it was a good decision in favor of moderation particularly since all their needs had been adequately satisfied during the journey.

“May I know the nature of your reflections, my lady?” Aragorn asked Arwen. He had been furtively observing her as she rode quietly beside him. It was remarkable to him that her beauty still enthralled his senses. She was attired in a dark grey riding garment and her hair was primarily loose with a few braids twisted down her back. Melian’s brown hair was similarly styled for the journey as well.

Arwen smiled. “They are nothing of consequence, my lord, but I will say it is wonderful to be going home at last.”

Aragorn reached over and held her hand. “Have I told you recently how happy I am to have you at my side?”

Arwen rolled her eyes jokingly. “You did so last night but I never tire of hearing your revelations in my honor. I do believe I shall never grow weary of them.” Aragorn was tickled. It was another reason he would never tire of loving her. Her exceptional qualities highly recommended her to his heart. She embodied all the traits he desired in a life long companion. She was noble, compassionate, charitable, witty and wise. “I see that I amuse you, my lord.” She said feigning an injured air.

“I love your sincerity,” Aragorn informed her. His laughter was slowly dissipating. “How many compliments will you have me utter each day, my lady?” he teased.

Arwen could not help herself. She also began to laugh. She loved it when he was humorous. It was not a side that most people were privy to since he was most often stern in public. “As many as you can afford, my lord,” she challenged. “A woman is never weary of the adulation of her lover.” Her radiant smile intensified the light in her eyes enhancing the glow of her face.

It did not escape Aragorn’s notice. “A man would be a fool indeed to be remiss in his daily praise to the one thing he treasures most in life,” he earnestly stated. His eyes held hers as he gallantly raised her hand to his lips.

If Melian had not deliberately cleared her throat, the couple might have forgotten they rode in company with many. They glanced over at her as she rode alongside Prince Imrahil. The two appeared amused with Aragorn and Arwen’s display of affection. “It seems Melian is entertained at our expense,” Aragorn whispered to Arwen.

“It shall not be long before we have the chance to stand in her place. The Prince of Mirkwood promised to return soon. I think we shall have a great deal to look forward to at that time,” Arwen said mischievously. Aragorn simply smiled. He knew Legolas liked and admired Melian but he was not confident of the return of those feelings. Melian was a sociable person and it was hard for him to determine if her actions toward Legolas were mainly friendly or something more. Arwen divined his thoughts. “Do you doubt Legolas’ return of her affections?”

“No indeed. I am more uncertain of her return of his affections.”

Arwen was thoughtful. “I understand your reservations. Melian is most often so gracious to everyone that it is hard to distinguish her behavior as more than favorable to any one person. However, I know my cousin well. Never before have I seen her more reserved than at times when she is in the sole company of Legolas. Her body language is different then.”

“I cannot refute your claim,” Aragorn returned. “However, it remains to be seen if the slight attachment between them was only fleeting.”

“And so it does,” Arwen agreed. Their pace had lapsed during their conversation widening the distance between the lead party and their company. “I fear we idle, my lord. Perhaps we should delay our discussions until that time when we are no longer constrained by time.”

“True. Come, ride with me!” Aragorn challenged. He increased his pace urging the horse forward as Arwen gathered speed bringing her horse alongside him. “We must be cautious,” he shouted above the thud of the horse hooves. “The ground looks soft and muddy up yonder.” Sure enough the lead party had slowed their pace. The others followed suit and brought their horses to a trot just in time to cross the deceptive puddles hidden in the grass. After they had passed safely over that expanse of land, the ground became sturdier. From then on, they rode until sunset before establishing camp for the night.

The next several days the company rode on swiftly covering a significant distance. Thankfully, the road was peaceful and the weather was persistently pleasant. On the seventh day of journey, they arrived at the farmstead before sunset. Their plans were to camp within the confines of the village for the night. The guards at the western gate greeted Aragorn and the princes in the custom of Gondor. They acknowledged Arwen and MelianÂ’s presence with a bow with their hands upon their chests. Aragorn solicited their recommendation of a site suitable for the establishment of their camp for the night. They pointed out a secluded area north of the gates and those charged with the task of pitching the tents and other related duties took leave of the party then to accomplish their responsibilities. The other soldiers departed on their own private excursions while Aragorn and his party remained to be apprised of any worthy occurrences that might have transpired since their departure a fortnight earlier. He was pleased to learn that the village remained free of harassment the entire time. Their journey that day had been extremely taxing after covering a wide expanse of land inclines. Hence, he welcomed the peaceful tidings delivered by the soldiers. It was one less affair to weigh upon his mind.

“My lord, there is one other matter that needs to be told but the captain has bidden my silence. We have watched for your coming for two days now and he will be glad to hear you have arrived at last,” one of the guards informed him. The other had confirmed his colleague’s statement with a nod of agreement.

“Then go speedily to fetch him,” Aragorn commanded. “Another will stand guard while you assume this errand.”

“As you wish, my lord,” he answered. He left quickly heading further into the village.

Aragorn and the others guided their horses northward to the campsite. They gave the reins into the hands of the horse attendants before dispersing to the sanctuary of their own private quarters. He had the opportunity to refresh himself before the captain arrived. Arwen insisted that he at least consume some of the fruits she had requested brought to their tent before the claims of duty intruded. The last time they had eaten was mid morning and she had a premonition that it would be a while before he would be able to satisfy his hunger pangs. Aragorn was grateful for her attention to his needs and proceeded to appease his hunger by consuming an assortment of fruits on a generously sized plate that she had presented to him.

Shortly thereafter, the young captain was announced. Aragorn gave his consent to the guard who afterward ushered the captain into his tent. He bowed to Aragorn and Arwen then immediately launched into a hurried plea. “Forgive me, my lord, but I have an urgent need for your services,” he said gravely. “We can not delay. Your timing could not have been more opportune.” The couple was momentarily surprised at his insistence but Aragorn made allowance for his exigent request solely because of the reverence and respect in which he applied so pressingly for his aid. “I believe, my lord, that you will have need for your healing supplies.”

“You must speak of this matter,” Aragorn commanded while he began retrieving his medical supplies. He could see that the captain was agitated and troubled but he quickly recounted to them the tale of his urgent need. The visages of the king and queen were now mirrors of growing concern. The captain’s tale ended when Arwen quickly handed Aragorn some clean bandages from their stores.

“You must hurry then, my lord,” she encouraged.

Aragorn paused surveying his supplies before hurriedly quitting their tent. “I shall return as soon as I can,” he told her. She had already begun to organize the excess supplies that had become disarrayed in their haste to assemble a package for him.

Meanwhile, in deference for her motherÂ’s advice, Nessa remained secluded inside her home. The past two days had been an absolute trial of her strength, both mental and physical. She had replayed the incident so many times in her mind that sometimes she wondered if it had actually occurred. But her motherÂ’s troubled countenance invariably confirmed its reality. To her it seemed that her mother had aged considerably over the past two days. Yet, they had never once spoken of it. At times in her paranoia, she even imagined that she saw a trace of condemnation in her motherÂ’s eyes. But her motherÂ’s actions showed otherwise. For the first time since the tragedy had occurred, she wished that she had adhered to her motherÂ’s counsel. It might have spared her the anguish that plagued her continuously throughout the day. From the beginning, all she ever wanted to do was protect her fatherÂ’s people independent of her gender. It was her belief that if her father had not thought her capable, he would never have encouraged her.

“They will never let me forget this,” she whispered to herself. “Why should they?” Silent tears streamed down her cheeks. “What have I done?” she asked despairingly. She could not remember the last time she needed her mother’s comforting arms before now. Yet, her pride still denied her that solace. On that first day, Morwen had tried twice to question her about the incident but never had she spoken of it with her. She could not bear to relive in words the horror of the tragedy and her mother’s expected reproach. Not to mention the betrayal she felt when she thought of her comrades. All this time she thought that she had finally overcome their prejudices only to discover through this tragedy that she had been mistaken. The same men she had thought of as her fellow comrades exploited her misery. She knew now that their support varied with the voice of the majority. That first night they had rallied her spirits but the very next day they ignited the villagers’ cry for justice. There were a few among them who was courageous enough to stand by her in spite of it all and one very special friend who went above and beyond. “Dear Elendur, you have been my rock through this all,” she softly said. He came faithfully every day to entice her into activities that he knew would lift her spirits. He was almost always unsuccessful in his efforts but he refused to give up nonetheless. Often he entreated her to a quiet walk outdoors but she would not succumb to walking in her village as a coward. Her pride would not allow it. Only the disgraced took covert paths. Either she walked in the open for all to see or remain indoors in the solitude of her home. Sometimes she wondered if the life she now led was to be her punishment. At nights when all was quiet, tragic images revisited her and dismal thoughts burdened her. Sometimes under the stress of the memories, she would curse the folly of the entire incident:

A week after the King of Gondor departed the village Nessa and a few of her comrades approached the soldiers of Gondor appealing for a few lessons in combat. At first the Gondorian captain was reluctant but he soon give credit to the validity of their arguments. However, much to NessaÂ’s annoyance, her comrades tried to dissuade her from enlisting for lessons claiming concern for her injury. Indeed, the arm was still slowly healing. It still irritated her at night but the herbs that the healer had left with her mother worked effectively to reduce the pain. She knew that her comrades spoke truthfully but her will was unbending. She was determined not to forego such a fruitful opportunity to improve her skills. It was only until they noticed the familiar look of resolve in her eyes that her companions decided not to pursue the subject any further. Nevertheless, as a necessary precaution, she demanded from each of them a vow of silence regarding her injury. She suspected that, with good reason, the Gondorian captain would refuse to let her take part in training if he became knowledgeable of her injury. Already he had looked at her with a mixture of challenge and curiosity. She could already tell that she would have to prove her self all over again.

The exercises began two days after the request was made. The soldiers were most accommodating to them. Nessa figured they did it primarily to relieve the boredom that had slowly begun to engulf them. Hence, in an unanticipated short space of time, the group embarked on a series of combat exercises, which deploringly exposed them to be in worse shape than they had previously been sensible to. The necessary exertion and endurance to excel in the training activities were seriously lacking in them all. However, they gave it their best shot. Nessa pushed herself exceedingly. At times her arm would bleed but she kept it expertly bandaged to avoid inquiries from the captain. Once his curiosity was peaked but she had quickly acted to allay his suspicions. It was most successful since he never realized until that tragic day that her arm was injured.

Her most triumphant skill was with the bow and arrow though presently it was a skill that she cursed in her misery. That same skill had toppled her peace of mind and altered her life forever. Her eyes watered as she remembered the tragedy. On that day, Elendur had called for her at the usual hour. Though her motherÂ’s disapproval of her actions was plainly clear, for once she did not utter a word to her on that score. She had quite exhausted the subject in the days past and had finally resolved to maintain her silence after attempting, unsuccessfully, to deter her daughter. For her part, Nessa experienced minor guilt on the subject. She truly believed she could serve her village best in the capacity she now sought.

She left with Elendur to join the others in the western woods. Archery was the planned activity for the next several hours. They had at least four hours before sunset to practice their aim. The group was assembled in the established training area together with a few village boys who volunteered their assistance in collecting the spent arrows. Each archer had his or her own target for the training session. After their quiver of twelve arrows was depleted, the young boys, who normally remained in safety along the sides of the range, would quickly collect them. They were under strict instructions not to loiter near the target area and the Gondorian captain was vigilant of their movements. Only until he determined for himself that all was clear would the succeeding round commence. It was a good day for them. Nessa managed to improve on the previous dayÂ’s strikes and was very pleased with her performance. The hours of training quickly expired until the day was nearly dark. The captain complimented them on their improvement before setting a time for sword practice the following day. By now the men were in boisterous spirits. The atmosphere of competitiveness never failed toward that end. It was almost always that way after Nessa had excelled in an activity where some was lacking. It did not rest well with their masculine pride. As was expected, a fellow comrade openly challenged her. Elendur attempted to dissuade her from submitting to the taunts of the others but she dismissed his pleadings. It was not in her nature to reject a challenge. The captain, who normally discouraged that kind of behavior in support of camaraderie, was silent upon the matter. He stood by with the other young boys placidly observing the small group of trainees.

“So, it is your wish then to expose your deficiency to all our comrades,” Nessa confidently returned to Halan, her colleague who had challenged her. The men laughed sardonically at her statement.

“Halan,” said one of them jokingly, “Are you going to let this little lady humiliate you?”

Halan spat on the ground. He looked over at Nessa who was obviously peeved from her comradeÂ’s flaunted label for her. She despised being called a little lady and they all knew that it would infuriate her. She considered herself just as fearless and in some cases, even more so than them. But it was evident that her comradeÂ’s objective was to deliberately exasperate her in order to weaken the concentration he knew she needed for a successful aim. Unfortunately, her anger did not readily dissipate though she made several vain attempts to control it by clearing her mind. She was never really good at overcoming public mortification and that afternoon was no different.

“No, my friend! Her bark is usually much worse than her bite,” Halan returned. He motioned for Nessa to take a step up to the line. “Let us remember this day my fellow comrades.” Then he laughed mockingly. The other men laughed too while the captain and Elendur stood by, both grim of face.

Elendur could never understand why these challenges were made. The men had already accepted Nessa as an unusual woman but still they delighted in sporting with her. Halan, especially, was the first one to convince them to accept Nessa for who she was. He had no doubt that Halan admired and respected her even though he felt she was supremely misguided. Often he had joked to Elendur that NessaÂ’s plight lie primarily in the youthful ignorance that plagued her mind. He could only conclude that it was HalanÂ’s way of ensuring that she did not become complacent. Yet, no matter how good his intentions were, he felt that to openly humiliate her in front of all her comrades was an untoward move that served only to undermine the respect that she had labored hard and long to earn.

But suddenly, Halan turned to them, the remnants of laughter erased from his face. His face was grim. “Your duplicity astonishes me,” he sternly stated. The laughter died on the lips of those who had been laughing at Nessa’s expense. “There was not one among you who supported Nessa, your fellow comrade, although you know her skill to be superior to mine.” His voice was chastising as he glanced from one flushed face to another. “Why is that?” he asked though he expected no answer. “Is it that you are loyal to all but Nessa? Is she not a part of this team? Did you not accept her as one of us?” He paused examining their faces. “How easily you sway to the caprice of another’s will,” he continued. “It leaves much to be desired in the spirit of comradeship. We are a small group of farmers armed with weapons and a single purpose in mind to protect our families. Yet, we have difficultly in wholly unifying in camaraderie. I can tell you now, if ever our village were to be attacked again, Nessa’s skill would prove most worthy in protecting you and your own. She is the best archer among the entire bunch of us. I would like you to consider that.” The men exchanged glances as if trying to decipher what the others were thinking. “Remember, every member of this group is essential and loyalty to each other is crucial,” Halan said forcefully. “Without it, we are as strong as the weakest link.”

He turned to Nessa who was still confused by the sudden turn of words. “You, Nessa, have a lot to learn about controlling your anger. Irrepressible anger often leads to irrational actions, which in turn results in disaster. You must work on your temper for there is no room for it here,” he bluntly stated before walking off. He made eye contact with the captain and they immediately realized it was his doing. The group began to disperse leaving only a few who still lingered in disbelief. Nessa stood glued in her spot feeling superbly used. Her anger began to escalate and she began to tremble. With an unsteady hand she managed to place an arrow in her bow, jerkily aiming it at the target board. The arrow tensed in the bow when cries of protest startled her causing her to release the arrow prematurely. Her companions all stood frozen with an expression of horror upon their faces. She instantly felt sick to the stomach. A wounded cry resonated from the woods prompting the others to run with aid. In her bewilderment, Nessa stood rooted to her position. She prayed it was one of their strayed livestock but sensed it was far worse. She began to run behind her companions all the while hoping for the best under the circumstances. Elendur was the first to arrive. His frantic voice could be heard talking to the other men. Nessa’s heart was racing. She came upon the three men who knelt on the ground working busily. As she approached closer, a distorted and familiar face came into view. His labored breaths seemed magnified to her ears and she knew that it was a sound that she would never forgot for as long as she lived.

The captain had heard the cry on his retreat to the village and returned speedily. He came forward tending the injured boy while all the time his gravity increased. He commanded the men to quickly form a bridge with their arms so that the boy could be laid across it. They swiftly obeyed. The boy, who looked to be fourteen years or younger, was now unconscious from the shock of the pain. The arrow was still lodged in his right foot below the knee. When the other men lifted him from the ground, a shiny coin fell from his limp hand. Nessa picked it up with the intention of giving it to one of the men who carried the injured boy but they waved her off.

“Come,” Elendur gently told her. He led her supportively onward. He sensed her turmoil and thought it best to remain silent during the way. It was obvious she needed time to gather her wits. The men bore the boy home to his house where the village healer was already summoned. By all accounts he was the best hope they had although his skill was renowned to be seriously lacking in many ways.

Against ElendurÂ’s counsel, she insisted on following the others to the boyÂ’s house. Though he thought it was imprudent of them, he decided to accompany her to lend his support. On their way there, the other men was returning from the boyÂ’s house. They hastily expressed their sympathies to her after adding a few words of support. It was apparent that they were still embarrassed about their earlier behavior and wasted little time in quitting her company. When they arrived at the boyÂ’s house, the captain and Halan were there. In her oblivion, she had not realized the curious way in which the captain looked at her when she approached. It was only when she perceived a look of disappointment in his eyes did she follow his gaze to her arm. Blood had seeped through her bandage staining her shirt. She instinctively covered her arm with her hand. The captain made no comment to her but his expression conveyed his feeling. His earlier suspicions were now confirmed much too late. The squeak of a door drew their attention to the small porch of the house. A dark haired woman issued from it obviously intent on approaching them. Her face was tear stained and she looked weary.

“How is your boy?” asked the captain. His expression teemed with concern.

“The healer said he might permanently lose the functionality of his leg if the arrow caused to much damage. Its forceful impact might have crushed some his bones.” Her voice cracked. “But, I am hoping for the best that the Valar will spare my little boy from a life of dependency. I am old even by the measure of my race and one day I might not be around to care for him.”

“We wish him well,” offered the captain. He felt responsible for the boy’s injury. “I would like to remain until I am certain his condition will improve.” The woman nodded and invited the captain into her house. She turned to the others thanking them for their concern.

Nessa wanted to remain as well but Elendur managed to convince her to go home. “I wish to stay,” she told him.

“I think not, Nessa. The boy’s mother was very gracious to us just now but I fear her anger has been much delayed by the urgency of the moment. As soon as she is apprised of our culpability in this grievous situation, her goodwill toward us will undoubtedly be short lived.”

Nessa laughed bitterly while shaking her head. “You are perfectly right. For a moment I deluded myself.” Tears filled her eyes but she acted quickly to suppress them.

Elendur pretended not to notice lest she should be mortified by her show of weakness, as she had so termed that display of emotion in the past. However, he gently squeezed her hand, firmly saying, “It was an accident Nessa.”

She smiled nervously. “Yes, it was,” she said unconvincingly. “But what if he became disabled?”

Elendur smiled feebly. They both knew the boy well. His father had died several years before and his mother relied on him to assist her with her farming. “It will all work out Nessa. Let us refrain from gloomy thoughts.” He made an effort to sound positive but neither of them was convinced.

When they arrived at her home near the eastern wood, Morwen was waiting for her. The news had spread quickly throughout the village though she was not really sure what exactly her mother knew. Elendur went indoors with them. He was determined to remain until he deemed it fine to leave her alone.

“What is this I heard my child?” Morwen asked Nessa. They made their way to the sitting room. “A boy was injured during your archery training?”

“Yes, mother. The healer is with him this moment.”

Morwen’s face was troubled. “May the Valar protect him then. That healer is less than capable.”

“Must you say that, mother?” Nessa yelled.

Morwen was startled by her outburst. Her face turned from surprise to reluctant comprehension. “What is it, my child? Did you have a hand in this tragedy?”

Nessa made no answer. Elendur felt the tension between both women. He was accustomed to it by now. He cleared his throat before saying, “Madam, this tragedy was purely brought about quite by accident. We had no idea the boy was in the wood but for a split second before it was too late.”

Morwen accepted his laconic explanation for the moment but it was clear that she was not satisfied. She excused herself to tend to dinner leaving Elendur and Nessa alone. Nessa quickly excused herself to change out of her blood stained shirt. She had no wish to endure any further questions from her mother. When she returned to the sitting room she recognized for the first time that Elendur seemed fatigued.

“Will you not speak of this to your mother?” He asked upon her entrance.

“I am not in humor to satisfy her inquisition.”

Elendur stared at her questioningly. “Nessa, why is your attitude toward your mother so lacking? She deserves the courtesy to hear from you all that transpired today. You seriously disappointed me just a while ago.” His tone was reprimanding.

“My mother is weak,” she flatly stated. “This tragedy will only re-galvanize her attempts to mold me into the daughter she has always envisioned.”

“Why are you so averse to being considered a lady? Do you think it makes you weak?”

Nessa ignored him and held her silence.

He rose from his seat. “Maybe it is time for you to seriously contemplate those views that you so dearly cherish. Have a pleasant evening,” he said before abruptly quitting the house. Ever since he became acquainted with her and noticed the way she treated her mother, he had pined to alert her to her impropriety. Morwen did not deserve the indifference by which her daughter often treated her. He knew that she only desired the best for her only child. “Whether you realize it or not Nessa, tonight might be the beginning of a changed life for you,” he murmured to himself as he bent his footsteps homeward.

ElendurÂ’s abrupt farewell startled Nessa. The disappointment in his voice pierced her heart but not for long. It was not her custom to dwell on opinions that negatively affected her especially where she felt she acted correctly. She loathed the fact that her mother disapproved of her aspirations and saw no reason to give her further ammunition in support of her admonishments. Besides, she had enough to deal with already.

“Dinner is ready,” Morwen informed her. She walked past Morwen into the dining room. They both ate in silence though Morwen kept glancing at her questioningly. Not long after they began to eat, she arose pleading exhaustion.

“But you have hardly eaten, my dear,” Morwen pleaded.

“I am not famished, mother. I prefer to retire now.”

Morwen touched her hand gently asking, “Will you not speak to me of your concern? Have we grown so far apart that you can no longer confide in me?”

Nessa looked at her. For a moment her solidity wavered but she simply said, “There is nothing to tell mother.”

Morwen looked disappointed. “Then sleep well my child,” she said in a hurtful tone.

Impulsively, Nessa bent to kiss her on the cheek. “I do love you, mother. Never doubt that.” Then she quickly slipped away lest her resolve should disintegrate.

That night she hardly slept a wink. It is true that tragic deeds prey even upon the strong during the quiet of the night. Consequently, she was plagued with thoughts of the worse alternative for the boy. That he should become permanently disabled was horrid to her mind. And it would be all her doing. In her desperation she proposed ways in which she could provide assistance to his mother in the event that he became disabled. It was the only way she could relieve the guilt and remorse she felt. If she had to farm and tend livestock for the rest of her life to remedy the situation, then that was the course she would chose. Yet, she was profoundly sad with that prospect. She would in essence become that individual that she so actively fought against becoming. She began to feel trapped. Hot tears slid from her eyes draining unto the pillow. Her arm still ached from the dayÂ’s training but she was numb to physical pain. She wallowed in self-pity for a good time before she checked the selfishness of her thoughts. It was not her health that was critical at that moment. Her head began to throb. The stress of her emotions was depleting her strength. She tried to sleep but it was not until rays of sunlight streaked through her blinds that she was finally able to drift into a troubled slumber.

Later that day she awoke with an excruciating headache. She called for Morwen but the house was empty. She arose with some effort to prepare for the day. An hour later, Morwen returned. The expression on her face conveyed her gravity. Nessa could only conclude that she must have heard in detail about the tragic event of the previous day.

“Did you sleep well?” Morwen asked. She busied herself with packing away the provisions she held in a basket.

Not trusting her voice, Nessa simply nodded.

Morwen eyed her carefully. “Did you already take breakfast?”

“I did. Thank you for asking.” Her heart had accelerated. She was patiently waiting for Morwen’s lecture, but it never came. Her mother simply packed away the provisions then excused herself to tend to her daily activities. Unbeknownst to her, Morwen went to her bedroom where she took a brooch from a small box, which contained a few treasured trinkets. The brooch was wrought from silver and it was shaped like a rayed star. It was her husband’s brooch that was given to him by his father and his father before him. Like her ancestors, his forefathers had lived in the North before removing to the South several decades ago. Their people had become a dwindling people and their grandparents had thought it best to journey south seeking a better life. She caressed the brooch lovingly. More than ever she missed her husband. Under his guidance Nessa was more tractable. In her, Nessa seem to see only frailty. “I fear, my child, it will not be long before you learn the things that you should value most in life,” she softly said to herself. “I hope by then it will not be too late.” A knock sounded on the door and she quickly dried her face of the silent tears that had fallen.

Nessa peaked her head in, “Mother, did you see Elendur while you were abroad? It is not like him to let the morning past without calling.”

“I did. He was with the Gondorian captain and several others talking together.” Morwen arose replacing the brooch in the box. She made no effort to provide any additional information so Nessa quietly left.

For her part, Nessa was overwhelmed with anxiety. She kept expecting her mother to reveal what she learned, but Morwen maintained her silence. There was no doubt in her mind that her mother knew. Her eyes and expression had confirmed her sensibility. Her heart fluttered when she heard a knock on the front door. The prospect of hearing adverse reports briefly crippled her strength. For a few seconds, she stood paralyzed by her reluctance before she mustered the courage to open the door. It was Elendur, standing tall and grave. His handsome face was furrowed with worried lines. She invited him inside partly dreading his purpose and partly comforted by his presence.

“I shall not stay long Nessa,” he informed her before taking a seat across from her. He scrutinized her person. “I can tell you have slept fitfully.” He sighed. “So have I.” He paused before continuing, “I have just had it from the Gondorian captain that the boy’s condition has deteriorated. He did not provide specific details since he was in a hurry to return thither. He keeps hoping that the King returns soon. It seems he would much rather the boy be tended by him. Many men were healed miraculously by the care of his hands during the last battle. Let us hope that he is already on his way here, Nessa.” She nodded absentmindedly. Her mind was clouded with thoughts of despair. She remained speechless. Her hope began to fade. There was no assurance that the king would arrive within the days to come. Not even the captain was sure of the time of his return.

Elendur hesitated before continuing. “It seems that Halan spoke correctly last evening. After the encouraging words that the men bade you last night, it seems they have altered their sentiments. I almost came to blows with one of them after Halan apprised me of their conduct. He had heard them with his own ears inciting the villagers to demand justice for the boy. When they became aware of his presence they tried to rectify the damage but it was too late.” He rose from his seat going to the window. “Our comrades only confirmed what they had already suspected.”

Nessa sat in a trance. She knew he was correct. Most of the villagers were very unforgiving of her eccentric ways and openly disapproved of her lifestyle. Often she had heard it said that Morwen was pitied because of the shame they felt she brought upon their house. But Nessa cared little for their opinions. In the past she had always ignored them, rating them and their views as insignificant. Today, however, she realized just how influential those same views would be in perpetuating her misery. Her head continued to throb. First, the sad tidings of the boyÂ’s health and now the treachery of the men she had trusted.

“Nessa,” Elendur was saying, “I think you should know that the men admitted that it was an accident. But their subsequent actions are unpardonable. They have set fire to the demand for recompense from you if the boy does not make a full recovery. I fear this situation is escalating beyond our control. They are meeting later to discuss the next step.” Elendur looked worried.

“I never dreamed it would come to this, Elendur. The consequences of my actions I am prepared to bear, but a unified demand by these people I have little tolerance for. This is a private matter between the boy’s mother and myself. I know what it is they wish of me. How long have they waited for an opportunity to see me fall? I know they think of me as proud and nothing would please them more than to exploit this tragedy to make me bend to their will. But it shall be long before they see me thus.”

Elendur gazed at her. “You fool yourself, Nessa. The majority of these people do not dislike you. They simply disapprove of your unusual ways. They fear what you may become and the influence you may have on their daughters.”

“From when have we become a people who resists change? Our foremothers were once valiant and brave.” Her face was flushed and her tone defensive.

“That is true, but it is also one of the reasons we removed to the south. Our race was diminishing through kin strife and war and our women were dying. In an effort to maintain our numbers, our forefathers made the rational decision to remove here to lead a peaceful existence. The older members of this village have not forgotten it. Perhaps they see in you the tales of the sufferings of old. Our forefathers and foremothers had left that lifestyle behind. In all honesty, Nessa, of all our comrades, you alone among us yearn for the thrill of battle. We enlisted in these trainings out of immediate necessity but I suspect your goals might be higher. Nevertheless, you have my support.” She was genuinely astonished by his revelation but she had expertly managed to keep it concealed from him. Instead she smiled gratefully at him for his declaration of support. “The captain has postponed the training session pending further notice. He wants to be sure that the boy will recover before resuming practices. He has told me to tell you that though you have deceived him, he has forgiven you, but he will not suffer you to resume training with an injured arm.” She was about to protest when Elendur said, “Be appreciative Nessa that he has considered training you still after all that transpired.”

She nodded. “You are absolutely correct, my friend. I am always quick to overlook the positive factors when a decision displeases me.”

He scrutinized her closely before hesitantly asking, “Nessa, may I speak plainly?” She slowly nodded though the tone of his voice signaled the initiation of a disagreeable subject. “What is it that you truly hope to accomplish in life?” She made no answer and he did not seem to expect one. “It puzzles me that you claim the need to protect a people with whom you hardly interact. Your father loved these people and they in turn loved him because of his benevolent and generous ways. You, on the other hand, lack that connection with this community. You have never sought to reform their opinions of you, however unfairly they were formed.” He looked piercingly at her. “They are no longer your concern. The role of chieftain was passed to your uncle. There is no need to strive to preserve your father’s memory in this way. It is difficult for me to say this, but you need to hear it. I think it is time for you to re-consider your goals in life. I fear you do more harm than good in the name of your father. The villagers have ceased to remember his great deeds especially when faced with the blatant apathy of his daughter.” She listened quietly to him without interruption. Each word he delivered was a blow to her pride. “I just wanted to be honest with you,” he continued solemnly. Nessa avoided his gaze. She had no idea if she was more hurt by his lecture or more peeved by his daring. “Am I forgiven?” he asked sincerely.

She forced a laugh. “I have not decided as yet.”

Elendur knew she was upset. Her laughter had not reached her eyes. He reached over taking her hand. “I mean well by you, Nessa.” He squeezed it gently before releasing it. “I shall return later this afternoon to entice you for a walk. The fresh air should revive your spirits. Till then, I suggest you get some rest. Your complexion is too pale.”

“Yes sir,” Nessa said weakly while escorting him to the door. She wanted to appear unaffected. As soon as he left her façade crumpled. She hurriedly returned to her bedchamber wishing to shut out all she had heard. Her mind was in turmoil. Despite the hurt she felt from Elendur’s revelation, the worse feeling yet stemmed from the dire news of the boy’s condition. The treachery of her comrades was another issue that wore heavily upon her soul. She could not believe how blind she had been to their pretense of acceptance. On further thought, it made her begin to consider Elendur’s words of advice. It seemed an appropriate time to evaluate her goals since all her aspirations was steadily unraveling. She lived in a community where most barely spoke to her, she was now faced with a grave dilemma, and those few individuals she had labeled as friends had unfeelingly betrayed her trust. She began to wish for an escape.

As promised, Elendur returned later that afternoon after attending to his farm property. By then Nessa had sunken further into a dreadful mood. He tried to entice her for a stroll east of the gate but she refused to walk with him in what she considered sheltered paths. She knew what he was about and had no intention of concealing herself from her neighbors.

“Those are the actions of one who is guilty,” she protested. “I will not allow it, Elendur.”

He knew she would be relentless so he let the subject rest. It was not up to him to protect her from the undeserved reports that were now circulating throughout the village. Even the boyÂ’s mother was now grown hostile in the bitterness of her grief. The boy was still in a dire condition and the ministrations of the healer seemed ineffectual. He stayed only for a while. He could tell Nessa was still in an unforgiving mood and he had not the strength just then to deal with it. The next day was an early one for him and he wanted to be well rested for the morrow.

“You will come again tomorrow?” Nessa asked nervously. She had expected him to stay longer even though she knew her mood was probably instrumental in curtailing his visit. But she could not help herself. She felt as though she was living in a continual nightmare and some how he was her lifeline. His presence was comforting even though his words had displeased her earlier that day.

Elendur looked down at her. He detected the tremor in her voice and his compassion was instantly awoken. “If that is your will, I shall.” Her smile was so innocent and sad that he began to wander if the effects of his earlier lecture had finally begun to manifest themselves. But something else occurred that he had not expected. His heartstrings were stirred for the first time since their friendship had commenced. He began to see her in a different light. Of that new light, he was unsure. The last thing he needed right now was further complications. Besides, he was already engaged to the daughter of Nessa’s uncle. “Until tomorrow then. Sleep well, Nessa,” he told her.

It was now the third day since the accident. Nessa arose from her bed ceasing her reflections on the past two days. Her room felt restrictive, but it was the only place where she could maintain her solitude. Morwen had barely spoken to her during the day since she pursued her daily routine with a level of vigor scarcely to be wondered at. She had warned Nessa to remain indoors but offered no additional explanation. The day before the captain had successfully quelled the situation with the villagers although, as a local, Halan had to join with him to quiet the small crowd. Elendur was mysteriously gone all day and was not around to witness the happenings. She later learned that he had traveled to visit her cousin who lived a few miles away with her uncle, who was also the chieftain of their village. She did not know why, but she was unreasonably upset. He had kept his word by paying his visit upon his return. Yet, she was still distressed. While together, they had barely spoken a word to each other after reviewing the dayÂ’s tidings. It was a strange circumstance for them. As soon as he had left, she had rushed to her bedchamber to ponder the oddity of their behavior but she could not figure it out. It was not until in the wee hours of the morning after reverting from one problem to the next that she comprehended the truth. She was truly shaken by it. It was not enough that her world was already chaotic now she realized she was enamored by the uncharacteristic kindness of her best friend.

A knock sounded on her door. She quickly tried her eyes before Morwen entered the room. “Elendur is here, my child. Come quickly.” She was dazed by her mother’s obvious change in temper. “You look a fright my child,” Morwen said examining her closely. “Go to the basin to wash your face. I will let Elendur know you will be with him shortly.”

Nessa nodded and did as she was instructed. She cleaned her face with cold water then patted it dry. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and promptly reached for a brush. She vigorously brushed her short hair letting it fall just past her ears. She inhaled deeply trying to calm her nerves. The feeling was new to her and she felt very uncomfortable. She hoped that her behavior did not betray her feelings.

When she entered the sitting room, Elendur was pacing. For the first time over the past three days, his expression resembled that of old. His smile widened when he realized her presence. “I have great news, Nessa,” he said enthusiastically.

“Well?” she asked responding to his dashing smile.

“The king returned a few hours ago and the captain has just informed me that the boy will fully recover.”

Nessa could not believe it. She was so resolved to expect the worse that she hardly knew how to react. She took a seat in the nearest chair, not trusting in the strength of her legs. She turned her face from Elendur as silent tears began to fall. A heavy burden was lifted from her shoulders and she was not sure if she deserved it. She was so confused by the soul searching of the previous days that for the moment she was quite useless.

“I expected more enthusiasm than this,” Elendur volunteered.

She glanced at him. “You have no idea how overjoyed I am to hear this news.” The tears were still on her cheeks.

Elendur took a seat next to her. His voice was solemn. “I suppose I forgot to take into consideration the effects of the pass few days on your psyche. I was so happy to finally bring you some worthy tidings that I neglected to consider all that has already transpired that was a sore test of your strength.” He cautiously took her hand, “Have you already forgiven me?”

She was slow to answer. She gazed at him wondering how his handsome face had ever eluded her notice. He was dark haired and gray eyed as were most of their people. Her father had told her that it was the trait of the men who had lived on the blessed land of Numenor. “How could I not? You have been the only person who has shared in this dilemma with me and for that I am grateful. Also, I think it is only fair that I forgive you since your unsolicited lecture has led me on a quest to discovering myself.”

“Then I am glad to be of service,” he quietly returned. Their eyes held for a brief moment before he arose to leave. He intended to travel to visit his betroth again on the morrow. This time he suspected she would be surprised since his next visit was scheduled for a fortnight from now. He had convinced himself that a visit would quell the feelings he was developing for Nessa. It bothered his sense of honor that his attentions were even remotely steered in that direction. It would not do to endanger their friendship. He would not allow it. But a few moments later, while parting for the night, he chanced to look into her eyes and was unnerved by the difference he saw there. Geniality was replaced by a youthful and uncalculated admiration. He hurried down the steps of the house escaping into the lane. “From one dilemma to a next,” he thought to himself. “I must devise a way to handle this situation before it is beyond my control.” Unfortunately, he knew that nothing would ever be the same again between them.

NessaÂ’s mind was similarly engaged. She had to escape the life she currently led. One thing that resulted from her abundance of reflections was the need for change. She did not know how as yet, but she intended to leave her former life behind. Her growing affection for Elendur also lit a fire under her need to escape. She would ponder it on the morrow after obtaining a long overdue night of rest.

Across the village, Aragorn was just returning from a night of labor. Arwen was up reading a book when he entered the tent. “Estel, you look exhausted.” She arose going to assist him with his healing supplies. “How is the boy?”

“He is fine now though he is very fortunate to retain the use of his leg. I operated on it for a while before I was sure if he would have full use of it. I cannot say enough about how lucky he is.” He sat down to remove his boots. His body ached from the day’s journey and the night’s labor. Arwen came around to assist him with the removal of his boots. His fingers were tense from the operation.

“It is most propitious to hear your tidings, but you must hurry to refresh yourself before the servants retire. They too are exhausted, my lord, but I requested that they await your arrival.” She removed his boots and half dragged him to a private section of their tent that was set aside for the cleansing of their bodies. “While you undress I will summon the servants.”

Half an hour later, he was refreshed and dressed in his nightclothes and a navy blue robe. The bath had slightly invigorated him and he had just enough energy to consume his dinner. When he was finished the servants rapidly cleared away his meal and headed for their own tents. Arwen had graciously thanked them before allowing them to leave. On her way to join Aragorn in bed, she stumped her toe on the displaced boots. Her sudden cry awoke him from his shallow doze. “What is it?” he asked immediately rising, his voice concerned.

“Nothing of significance. I stumped my toe on your very sturdy boots,” she complained. She joined him in bed nursing her toe. The pain had quickly receded but the toe was red.

Aragorn carefully took her small foot in his hand gently caressing it. “Is that better?”

She laughed. “You have the true hands of a healer. I feel better already.”

He smiled sleepily. “Good,” he said releasing her foot. They both adjusted their pillows to their comfort before preparing to sleep. Arwen loved to cuddle and Aragorn was most certainly willing to accommodate her. Before long, they were both lost in their own dreams, Aragorn with his eyes closed and Arwen with her gray eyes staring.