Disclaimer: I don’t own them and I’ll put them back safely when I’m done.

Author’s Note: I have decided to start titling the chapters. Accordingly, all of the previous chapters now have titles. Thanks to Pip Brandygin for the beta.

Chapter Seven: A Poppet for Queen Arwen 

“Eowyn, my dear, I don’t think you were being entirely truthful with Frodo back there.”

Eowyn ducked her head and avoided the queen’s gaze as she walked into Arwen’s room. After washing and dressing in an apple-green satin dress, she had made all haste to the queen’s rooms, fully aware that Arwen would want to know exactly what she and the hobbits had been doing the night before. She was not sure if she should tell Arwen about last night’s frightening adventure; it was such a wild tale that Eowyn doubted Arwen would believe it.

As if reading her thoughts, Arwen said, “Eowyn, I’ve been alive over two thousand years. I know when someone is hiding something from me. Don’t make me seduce Pippin into telling me.”

Eowyn laughed aloud. She could only imagine the look on Pippin’s face if Arwen were to flirt with him until he spilled the whole story. As amusing as the mental image was, she could not let it happen. Eowyn took a seat opposite Arwen at the small table set with luncheon and helped herself to the food laid out.

“All right, it begins like this. Several days ago, Pippin pointed out to me that there was an unused part of the Citadel. We found the door leading to it in the portrait gallery, and we went exploring…”

It was, fortunately, not a very long tale, and Eowyn finished it in no time. Arwen was silent for a long time when she had ceased to speak. Eowyn began to eat the roast chicken and salad on her plate as she waited for Arwen to reflect upon the story. She had barely taken one bite before the door opened and Pippin swung into the room. He took one look at Arwen’s white face and shook his head.

“I see you told her, Eowyn. I’ll go get some tea,” he said.

Tea was promptly fetched and forced upon the queen, who drank it without complaining. Pippin and Eowyn helped themselves to cups as well and felt themselves calm down as they drank the sweet liquid. . They spent several minutes sitting in silence, waiting for Arwen to compose herself enough to talk to them about Alatarial and the secret room. At last, she set her teacup down and looked across the table at them.

“I want to see the doll you found,” she said. “Could you fetch it, Pippin?”

Pippin nodded. “Yes, I’ll go get her now.”

He stood up and trotted over to the door, fully intent on going straight to his room for the doll, Poppy. As he opened the door, though, he very nearly ran straight into a small lad -- well, a lad just his height, to be exact. Bergil, Beregond’s son, jumped back guiltily, blushing. There was a medium-sized box in his hands.

“Sir Pippin!” Bergil said, sketching a hasty bow. “My Lord Faramir sent me up to bring this box to my lady queen.” He held the box out to Pippin.

Pippin took the box and began to grin. Here was a lad to have on their side. “Here, I’ll take it. Bergil, would you mind running an errand for me?”

Bergil nodded, as Pippin had known he would. Bergil was a page, of course. “In the wardrobe in my room there is a doll dressed in red velvet. Would you kindly wrap her in my black mantle and bring her straight here? Thank you.”

Bergil nodded, looking slightly puzzled, and turned to go, but then hesitated as Pippin suddenly called out to him, “Oh! If you see the king, run away from him, would, you lad? Don’t show him the doll.”

“Certainly, Sir Pippin,” Bergil replied, now looking even more puzzled. Pippin grinned at him and let him go on his way.

The Citadel was teeming with servants and decorators getting ready for that night’s ball, and Bergil was not disturbed as he hurried across it to the Company’s house. He ducked inside and went up to the room that Merry and Pippin shared. He knew where it was because the two knights and Legolas had smuggled him away to teach him to play conkers and cards several weeks ago. He climbed the stairs up to the rather messy room, and went straight to the huge wardrobe. Inside, lying on a pile of clothes was the mysterious doll that Pippin wanted. Bergil picked it up and turned it over in his hands. It was certainly very old, and a very fine doll like the one several little girls he knew of would just die for. Shrugging away his curiosity, he wrapped it in Pippin’s fancy cloak and tucked it under his arm. This was certainly an easy errand, he thought.

He left the room at a trot. Down the stairs, across the front hall, out the door…Bergil turned from shutting the door behind him and ran full force into the last person he had ever expected to literally run into. King Elessar caught Bergil before he could fall over and steadied him on his feet.

“Steady on there, lad,” he said, looking down at Bergil in amusement. His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “You aren’t playing conkers with Merry and Pippin now, are you?”

“N-no, my lord king,” Bergil stammered, and bowed low. “I’m running an errand for Sir Pippin.”

Aragorn nodded, eyes darting to the wrapped bundle under Bergil’s arm. “What is that, may I ask?”

It wasn’t a question and Bergil knew it. He also knew that he was caught in a precarious situation, and one wrong word could land Pippin into trouble. This was the king, though, and you could not lie to a king. It was best to go with the truth, as best as he could.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” Bergil said, bowing again. “Sir Pippin asked me not to tell anyone. It’s nothing bad, though, just a toy.”

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. He highly doubted that Pippin was up to anything dreadful, but he had to admit that he was slightly worried. He had learnt to be wary after all the pranks the hobbits had played on him in Rivendell.

“I’m sure he will show it to me later,” Aragorn said. “Where is Pippin?”

“With my lady queen,” Bergil said quickly. “They’re looking at masks that were sent up for the ball tonight.”

“Well, thank you very much. I’ll let you go to him now.”

Bergil nodded and bowed again, and Aragorn stood aside to watch him dart away. Something was going on here. Where in the Citadel had Pippin found a toy? There was Faramir and Boromir’s old nursery, and Finduilas’ old sitting room most likely had some playthings left in them. He highly doubted that Pippin had gone to either of those places, though, and besides, the young Took was surely too old for most toys. He would just have to find out later. Shrugging to himself, Aragorn turned and walked away to find Legolas and Gimli.  

*****

Bergil arrived back in Arwen’s rooms a few minutes later. He handed the bundle to Pippin and hurried back to his post at the end of the hall, grateful that he did not have to be sneaky anymore. He was not good at sneaking.

Inside, Pippin unwrapped the doll that was Poppy and handed her to Arwen. The queen took her and gazed at her for several minutes, like one entranced. Then she sighed and put it down on a chair.

“Poor little poppet,” she said. “What a horrid thing to happen. I feel very gloomy now, but I want to see that room.”

Eowyn bit her lip. “You must shake the gloom, Arwen, or someone will suspect something. We cannot go to Alatarial’s room today; it’s too sad for the day of a grand ball. Come; let’s look at our masks for tonight. Do you like any of these?”  

*****

The sun shone brightly on Gondor that day, a boisterous westerly wind having blown away the last of the rain clouds the night before . There was a festive mood in the air as the city prepared for another great ball. Few noticed a small group of well-dressed travelers enter the city and make their way to the Citadel.

“I am looking for the Lord Steward,” one of the travelers said to the guard on duty.

The guard, recognizing her, let the woman and her companions pass.

Up in the empty portrait gallery, the heavy drapes danced as though caught in a strong wind.  

TBC