Chapter 40 – “Should I Stay Or Should I Go?”

Of the many things raging through Penny’s head as they arrived at Edoras, the most immediate was a genuine fear that she might get ill again and how best she could try and avoid this. It was hard to see how this many people could fit into the Meduseld (which they could not), so she hoped there would be no communal feasting at least until the wake. Even so she had suggested to Mireth she start drinking boiled water when they were still a day’s ride out from Edoras. Mireth had said she was about to suggest the same thing.

Interestingly, the moment Halladan, Arvain and Faelon realised what Penny was doing, they did the same, and advised the other Dunedain to do so also. Admittedly Penny was a complete stranger and thus susceptible to all sorts of bugs that would probably not affect them in the least, but they were from far enough away that there might be illnesses in the water that they might not be used to. While they had been in Rohan once before with no ill-effect, it was possible Penny’s illness had been due to something newly arrived in the water, perhaps as a consequence of the summer heat. Best not to risk it, they decided.

Indeed, Eleniel suggested to the Gondorian ladies-in-waiting they might want to follow Penny’s example, though not all thought it necessary or took her up on her suggestion. Most of the Gondorians seemed unbothered by such things, but the Men of the North thought it prudent to take precautions.

“Besides,” Faelon had said with a grin, “not drinking the water means drinking more of their beer, and I have no complaints about Rohirric ale.”

It was true that the fermentation process of the beer would kill most bugs in the water. Penny knew that vaguely from some historical documentary snippet lodged in her brain somewhere, but even so, as they set up camp in the shadow of the walls of Edoras, she felt slightly anxious. Not only that but, given her last experience ‘on the ale,’ she was not sure it would be such a good idea if she partook of it in any large quantity. It was strong stuff, after all.

If she was honest, it was not only this return to the place where she had been so ill she had nearly died that had set off the butterflies in her stomach. She knew what was coming: the impending decision hanging over her, let alone the traumatic separation of Elrond and his daughter. She would see one side or the other of the aftereffects of that – whether in the Elrond’s company or Arwen’s – and she was not looking forward to it either way.

She was also rather conscious of the way she had been perceived by the ladies of Rohan the last time she had been here. Admittedly it might make a difference that she had got to know a few of the Rohirric lords while travelling, though not intimately by any means. She was still relatively limited in her language (though not as bad as the last time she was here, perhaps) and they had often kept themselves to themselves – happy enough to socialise but still a little wary and in awe of the elves. Penny had really only spoken to them when she had been seated with the Dunedain and even then for not any great length of time. Even so it was possible that small contact might be enough to have lessened her image as some kind of peculiarity best avoided.

She had found Elfhelm was rather charming, once she had got to know him a little better. He had spent quite a bit of time in Eomer’s company at the Dunadan or Elven fire as they had journeyed. She had noticed there was a clear difference between him and your average Gondorian. For all he was polite and of noble bearing, there was a certain gruffness about him, the way he was always ready with a hearty laugh and slightly less reserved attitude that was true of most of the Rohirric lords, that spoke volumes when compared to most Gondorian nobles. More down to earth and less ‘up themselves,’ was how Penny thought of them. She thought it was a pity the Rohirrim did not speak Sindarin, really, because she suspected she would get on quite well with them. Certainly the Dunedain had a huge amount of respect for them and liked them immensely as Halladan himself had said the night before they had arrived at Edoras.

“Yes, but, any people that can make good beer would immediately come high in your esteem,” Penny had retorted.

“I beg your pardon?!” Halladan had tried to look offended, though the half-smile on his face gave him away.

“To be fair, Pen-ii makes a good point.”

Halladan had raised an eyebrow at Naurdir who had just chuckled.

When Arvain had chosen that moment to come over to join them, sitting himself down while loudly declaring he was looking forward to a tankard or two of Edoras’s brew, Penny had folded her arms and looked smug, much to Naurdir’s amusement.

That first afternoon of their arrival, some of her worries were soon calmed when she realised she was back in her usual tent with Mireth and the others and would not be joining Arwen and the ladies-in-waiting who were to be housed in the royal buildings behind the Meduseld. Aragorn, Faramir, Imrahil, and all the Fellowship were to join them also as guests of the King.

Apparently Galadriel, Elrond and others from amongst the elves had graciously declined the offer of accommodation, saying this was a time of mourning for Rohan on which they did not wish to intrude. In other words, there was no obligation on the elves to bow to diplomatic niceties to the point that they had to sleep in a place where the hygiene and general standard of cleanliness was not what they would wish for.

It had to be said Elladan and Elrohir both seemed slightly relieved not to have to follow their father and stay in Edoras itself (which they would have surely had to do had he accepted Eomer’s offer). Clearly their brief sojourn there after the War had been more than enough to last them for a lifetime, much as they had great respect and love for the Rohirrim themselves. They would, however, be joining their father and their grandparents for a small-scale evening meal with King Eomer, if only for courtesy and formality’s sake.

The majority of the Gondorian nobles stayed in the encampment. There was no room for all the elves and the nobles combined in the town, and it would have been most improper to only house mortals and not insist on housing the elves as well. There was no stigma attached to camping outside – most of the Rohirrim had camped outside the walls of Minas Tirith on their one night on the Pelennor only a couple of weeks before – nor was it seen as a slight or insult. It was accepted as a necessary practicality of visiting another city in such huge numbers.

The Rohirrim were insistent on playing host as best they could nonetheless. Thus fresh meat was sent down to be roasted for the visitors for their evening meal, a small cart carrying kegs of ale and barrels of wine appeared soon after the tents had been put up, and the townsfolk themselves wandered out through the city gates bringing baskets of fresh bread and cakes.

Penny avoided anything that she did not know had come from Gondor and been prepared by Naurdir himself.

Most of the nobles and several of the elves went up to the Meduseld after the evening meal where there was to be songs and a low-key gathering. However, Penny was wary of going. Halladan seemed none too enthusiastic about spending the rest of the evening in the company of lots of drunk warriors singing sad songs about fallen comrades. Thus the two hung back when Arvain and Faelon eagerly accepted accompanying Lindir and Celebdor.

“We will keep each other company,” Halladan had smiled, reassuring Faelon.

He was not the only Dunadan to stay behind. There were several at their fire, so Penny did not feel too unsociable. The elves that had remained seemed even more subdued this evening, perhaps because for the first time Arwen was not with them, but doing her Queenly diplomatic duty and sitting beside her husband amongst the mortals. Penny was glad she had Halladan to sit with.

“If there is anything you think you might need, Pen-ii, this is your last chance to get it before you have several weeks of travel ahead of you,” Halladan was saying. “If you decide to continue north with us, that is, of course.”

She said nothing. He looked at her.

“Have you made a decision yet?”

She glanced at him and he saw that he had made her feel awkward.

“Forgive me. That perhaps came out more bluntly than I intended. I was merely wondering… No matter.” He paused. “You will have to decide in the next day or two, though, do not forget. The sooner the better, truth be told.”

“I know. It must seem so ridiculous to you, I am sure. I must seem so hesitant and…” She could not think of a suitable word. “…weak.”

“Not at all. It is a big decision,” he replied, trying to sound reassuring. Penny suspected he was just trying to say the right thing, though.

They fell into silence.

“Pen-ii, I would give you advice if you were to ask it of me. I… Well, I hope you consider me a good enough friend. If you need to talk to someone about your choices, what you are considering, to help you decide, then you have only to ask.”

“Thank you, Halladan. Truly.”

“Well, I am your guardian after all, am I not?”

He smiled and she returned it.

“Well, no matter where I stay, I think I might need to do something about these shoes soon,” she muttered.

She tilted her foot slightly and poked at where the sole was getting dangerously thin and, while there was no hole as yet, she could definitely feel the edge of her nail on her foot as she prodded.

Halladan took his pipe from his mouth and leaned forward to look also. His brow furrowed in some astonishment.

“Pen-ii!”

“What?”

“Those shoes are nearly worn through! Surely you have another pair?”

“Yes… but they are just as bad. Elvish shoes are well made, but I have worn these two pairs day in, day out for several months now and with all that walking… I mean, there are only so many hours a day you can sit in a saddle, after all. It is only the soles that are getting thin…”

“We shall get some new leather tomorrow.”

“But…”

“No argument, Pen-ii. You need new shoes. And more suitable ones for hours of walking than delicate elvish slippers, too, if you are to travel much further.”

“I do not want to burden any of them with making new shoes for me, not with everything else that is troubling them right now.”

“There will be a cobbler here in the town who can make you a pair. There is time enough even if you leave with us. Two days should be more than enough. If not, then we can just patch up those you have long enough to last you till Imladris or Minas Tirith. New soles if nothing else. Even I can sew on new soles if need be.” He grinned. “I have had to mend many a boot in my time, you know.”

She did not doubt he had. Probably had all sorts of useful skills up his sleeve as a Ranger. She said as much.

“Well, yes, that is true.” He laughed.

She liked it when he laughed. His whole face lit up and it was at times like that she could feel he had genuinely forgotten his pain for a moment.

“What are you smiling about?”

He was smiling himself as he watched her, a curious expression on his face. She started slightly, not realising she had been staring at him.

“Oh, nothing. It is just… It is nice to see you laugh, Halladan, that is all.”

His smile broadened a fraction and he glanced down, then tilted his head, almost in a shrug, though still smiling. Then he stuck his pipe back in his mouth and looked back at the fire, with a faintly amused air about him. Penny wondered at his reaction, though she felt unaccountably pleased with herself at the same time.

The next morning he was there at breakfast, chivvying her to hurry.

“The sooner we get to the tanner’s, the better.”

“Tanner?” Lindir looked up.

“Oh, well, er…”

Penny felt slightly embarrassed at having to admit she had been too shy to tell anyone her shoes had been close to falling apart, but Halladan cut across her.

“Pen-ii needs some new shoes. That or at least to replace the soles on her old ones. Travel has taken its toll, that is all.” He smiled.

“You should have said, Pen-ii,” Lindir now turned to her. “Several of us bought leather in Minas Tirith. I could have…”

“Oh, please, Lindir!” Rhimlath snorted. “Pen-ii has seen the state of those boots you made. You would be the last person she would come to. I, on the other hand…”

Lindir laughed out loud at that. “You are joking!”

“Not in the least,” Rhimlath retorted imperiously. “Need I remind you that I made a pair of boots for Erestor?”

“Which he has never worn.”

“He most certainly has!”

“Have you ever seen him wear them?”

“He wore them the same week I gave them to him as a matter of fact.”

“And since then?”

There was a pause. “That is beside the point.”

“It is precisely the point…”

Halladan and Penny exchanged ‘a look’ and a shake of the head and left them to it.

If Penny had thought Edoras could not have smelt much worse than when she was last there, she was wrong. The stench when she walked through the city gates was staggering. Summer had indeed marched on, and the heat was taking its toll, first and foremost on the pig sties next to the main gates.

The tanner’s yard (which was next door to the pigs) stank nearly as badly, Penny decided. She had visited the tanners at Rivendell once or twice, so knew the smell could be a bit high, but in a confined space in the summer heat, it was infinitely worse. She could not help but wrinkle her nose as she stood to one side of the stone building, as near as possible to the open doorway, while Halladan inspected the various treated skins on offer. When he had decided on the most suitable piece of leather, haggled his way to a decent price, and turned with it rolled under his arm, he finally saw the expression on her face.

At which point he had a fit of uncontrollable chuckling.

“I never thought I would say I was glad to be in the open air of these streets,” Penny muttered as she gingerly skirted round a fresh pile of horse manure, “but the stench in that yard was unbearable.”

“Well, this town is perhaps more… fragrant than others, that is true.”

He was still grinning.

“You find this funny, don’t you?”

“Can you blame me, Pen-ii? You are so like an elf at times that it really is rather amusing to see you.”

“Ah, you missed their entrance here that first night we entered the town. I nearly forgot how awful it was myself just watching them all.”

“I can imagine.”

“Scented cloths in front of their noses, expressions of appalled disgust… It was really quite something to behold.” She paused as he laughed. “I thought of your father, actually.”

“Father? How so?”

“Well, I just knew if he had been there, he would have been hooting with laughter and being really quite rude to them all.”

“Almost certainly, I would have thought.”

She glanced at him.

“You as well, I would imagine. And Arvain and Faelon.”

“Who? Us?” he said in mock astonishment. “Never!”

He had the hint of a cheeky grin on his face, threatening to break through the supposedly affronted façade. He was waiting for her laughter first, though. When it came he joined her, chuckling heartily and freely.

The cobbler was about a third of the way up the hill in Edoras – a short enough walk from the tanners that he did not have to travel far to get his leather, but far enough away from the stench to not drive away custom.

Penny had the odd experience of feeling faintly shy when asked to take off her shoes, then place her naked feet one by one on a piece of leather on the floor while the cobbler’s apprentice (a young man of about twenty or so) knelt down and made chalk outlines of them.

That he had hesitated before he had touched her foot to hold it still as he did his work and, more than that, had glanced first of all at Halladan as if seeking permission before murmuring an apology to Penny only made her feel even more uncomfortable.

She actually felt a faint flush creep into her cheek, very aware that Halladan was watching her and, she did not doubt, watching this man’s every move. She was equally aware the cobbler was taking care not to touch more of her foot than need be.

It was all deeply peculiar, and just went to show how on some level she had got used to the social mores of a society where the smallest of things could actually be quite significant and potentially offensive.

Not even a year ago she would not have given a damn if a man had touched her foot for purely practical purposes, yet now she felt strangely self-conscious because of exactly that… though it could equally have been due to the fact that Halladan was standing staring at them both, the muscle in his jaw twitching slightly; Penny could not be wholly sure. After all, it could not have been the first time the man had traced the size and shape of a woman’s foot onto a piece of leather, and Penny doubted he behaved in quite such a timid fashion with all of them. But then she could quite understand six feet of rugged, stern-looking ranger with a sword on his hip having an intimidating effect on people.

The cobbler cut off as much of the leather as he would need to make a pair of basic, sturdy shoes, and made to hand the rest back to Halladan, but Halladan asked if he could keep it for a little while. He explained he would return with two more pairs of shoes that needed new soles, perhaps more.

“I will see if Arvain’s boots need attention,” he explained as they left to return to the camp. “I know he was complaining that they were getting a little thin at the heel.”

Ever the one looking out for the rest of the family, Penny mused.

There was no sign of Mireth at lunch. Celebdor said she was helping Elrond with various patients. Some of them were people they had treated a few weeks before whom Elrond was insisting he check up on, and others were newly arrived - those who had heard of the good works done the last time the elves were here and desperate for their help.

Naurdir had disappeared to see what wares he could stock up on for the journey north. Apparently, after hearing much about the Dunlendings from the Rohirrim, he was in no hurry to have to try and barter for anything as they travelled through the Gap of Rohan and up towards the Greenway. Better to get everything in advance (not that he needed much - most had been purchased in Gondor).

As during their last stay, the camp was filled with visitors. Some were families of those who had journeyed with the eored, come to meet the Gondorians and elves their husbands, brothers or sons had met on their journey, or alongside whom they had fought in the War. Children were often dodging in and out of the rows of tents, laughing and playing, or sitting quietly as those elves who were fluent in Westron told tales they could understand or else sang songs they could not but held them enthralled nonetheless.

Even so, there was still a sombre tone to the camp. Many elves kept themselves to themselves, unable, perhaps, to resist the charms of the children, but otherwise disinclined to engage too much in chit-chat and socialising. The Gondorians were more open to visitors, but then their part of the camp was at a slight remove.

Arwen had rejoined the elves. She would stay for the entire day, returning only last thing at night to her chambers. She would repeat the process for every day they were there. Right till the last.

Immediately after lunch Halladan disappeared once more back to the cobblers, one pair of Penny’s shoes in his pack and Arvain by his side holding a pair of patched and worn boots. Penny entertained herself by joining Eleniel and a few of the Gondorian ladies playing with some of the children. After an hour or so she sat down to have a rest from the umpteenth game of chase and glanced up to see Arvain back in the camp, chatting with Glorfindel and Celebdor. There was no sign of Halladan.

She glanced round towards the mounds of the Kings and could see the men working hard getting the barrow ready for Theoden. Already they had begun to erect a stone chamber in the middle of the marked out circle. It was heavy, hard work since the stones were large ones, but several men were working together and were managing a steady pace. They were also making a short passage-way to the central chamber that led to the edge of the marked out circle. Other men were already digging a large ditch around it, the earth from it slowly beginning to pile up to form the mound itself.

As she watched them at their work, she found her mind wandering. She had been nicely occupied for most of the day so far, indeed the morning seemed to have sped past in Halladan’s company and she had been glad to have had something else to think about, to distract her; but now, with the children playing nearby, her mind went into overdrive as if to make up for things.

She knew the sooner she let The Powers That Be know her decision one way or the other, the better. Admittedly she would have every right to leave it until the last evening to tell them – it would be easy enough to pack up her stuff and shift it into Edoras rather than plonking it on the back of a horse, after all – but she knew well enough the high emotion that would be involved in that last night, that Elrond, in fact, would not be around given he would be off in the hills somewhere with Arwen all night and no doubt Aragorn would be waiting anxiously for her, worrying for them both. That would hardly be the moment to bother them with trivialities such as where she might want to stay for the time being.

She knew what her decision should be; it was just a case of screwing up the courage to commit herself to it, that was all. Better to tell them as soon as possible. Perhaps tonight? Although… perhaps she might discuss it first, sound Halladan out, make sure she was making the right decision?

There was only an hour before the evening meal when she saw him again. He was sitting outside the tent he shared with several other Dunedain (a tent they had protested they did not need, but Faramir had insisted they have and use), whittling. He had a look of concentration on his face as slowly he slid the blade of the knife he always carried with him down a rather thin stick of wood. There was a scattering of little curls of shavings on his knees and on the grass around him. As she neared him, he glanced up.

“Ah, just the person!” He smiled.

“Oh?”

“Yes, if you can just wait one moment…”

He went back to his work, slicing three more slow curls of wood off the small stick, working one end to a blunt point.

“There. Done.” He admired his handiwork. “Yes, that will do nicely. Now…”

He put his knife back in its scabbard on his belt, then bent slightly to rummage in his pack beside him.

“Here, have some shoes.”

He held them out to her without looking up, still rummaging. Penny took them, admiring the thick wad of fresh leather on the soles.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome. If you give me the pair you are wearing now this evening, then I can take them to him tomorrow to… Where is it? Ah, yes. Here we are.”

He pulled out a small piece of leather with something like triumph or pride on his face. He pushed the small stick he had just shaped through two holes punched through the leather on either side and then held it up for her to take.

“This is for you as well.”

“For me? What is…?”

But even as she took it, she realised instantly what it was.

It was a leather hair fastener, just as she had seen and considered buying in Minas Tirith. The piece of leather had been cut into something like an oval shape, and all round the edge little marks had been punched and cut into the leather, making a simple but quite pretty pattern of short, inter-woven lines that almost looked like a plait or trailing plant.

“I did tell you such things are easy to make, Pen-ii, and not worth wasting your money on buying at the market. I trust it will serve?”

“Yes. Yes, it will serve very well, I am sure. Thank you, Halladan. That was very kind of you to remember I wanted one of these. I shall have to thank the cobbler also when I fetch my new shoes the day after tomorrow.”

There was a slight pause and Halladan almost looked awkward.

“Actually, I made it.”

Penny looked at him in astonishment. Quite why she felt so surprised, she was not sure. Of course he would be good at practical things – such was the nature of people’s lives here that they had to be and she did not doubt for a second that Dunedain learnt some of the finer crafts, given their heritage as well as their close ties to the elves – but for Halladan to have taken time to do such a thing, a simple thing perhaps, but to have had the thought to do so…

Now she knew where he had been all afternoon.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice barely more than a murmur. She was so touched by his gesture that words failed her.

“Oh, it is nothing.”

He waved his hand, perhaps looking even more awkward now, as if worried that perhaps he had made too big a thing of it, that perhaps it might have been better to let her assume the leather had been worked by the cobbler.

“It is not. It is something I needed, and you not only remembered but you made it for me yourself.”

“Really it was no work. It was easy to make. I…” He paused and then shrugged with a smile. “I was going to leave it plain but then thought it would be nicer to put a design on it. It was quite pleasant to have something to occupy myself with for an hour or two. The cobbler let me use some of the tools he had in his workshop. He works leather for all sorts – scabbards, belts… He had some very fine work there for some new saddles… Gilt inlay, open work, really quite magnificent stuff…”

Penny was vaguely aware Halladan was rambling.

“I… I am very touched, Halladan. Thank you.”

She smiled and he smiled back, before quickly getting to his feet and muttering something about how it must be time for food, brushing down his leggings to rid himself of the last few wood shavings, saying he would no doubt see her later and that he was glad she felt the hair tie would be of use before he wandered away rather quickly.

Penny glanced down at the hair tie, resolving to put it in her hair straight away, before herself wandering off to her tent to change into her newly soled shoes. It was only as she did so she realised she had not told him she had probably made her decision and had wanted to talk to him. She turned back to see if she could still see him, perhaps go after him, but he had disappeared completely in amongst the tents somewhere. It did not matter. It could wait.

She found Mireth in their tent. She had just returned from calling on a woman whose husband she had helped treat the last time she had been in the town. Penny could see there was something wrong. Mireth had, like all the elves, been more quiet and subdued in the past few days, but the moment Penny walked into the tent she only had to look at the expression on Mireth’s face to know something else had happened.

“Mireth?”

Mireth glanced up. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears and something in her expression made Penny very conscious of just how old Mireth was, how many centuries she had seen.

She quickly put her shoes and hair tie on her bed roll and sat next to Mireth, taking her hand.

“Oh, Mireth. I am so sorry.”

Mireth gave her a sad smile.

“You never get used to it. I… That is, we, Lord Elrond and I… We feared that he might not…”

“If not even a healer of your experience and knowledge could help him, Mireth…”

“Perhaps. That does not make it any easier or any less upsetting.” She sighed and shook her head. “He left a wife and five children, Pen-ii. Five beautiful children.”

She bowed her head and Penny put her arm round her shoulder.

This was not the first time someone Mireth had tended to since she had journeyed south had died. Several who had been already seriously ill from their wounds had died while she had last been in Rohan, and one or two while in Gondor also. There had been others whom Mireth had seen or tended to for whom there had been no hope, whose death, even if she would not be there to witness it, had been inevitable. Mireth had been saddened by every one, but not affected nearly as much as she was now. Penny suspected the whole brooding awareness of leaving Arwen behind in two days time to die a mortal death had as much to do with Mireth’s distress and sensitivity right now as anything else.

They sat for a few minutes till Mireth stirred at last, forcing a brighter smile in Penny’s direction.

“You got your shoes?”

“Yes, Halladan just gave them to me. Oh, and this.”

She showed her the hair tie.

“Did he make this?”

“Yes. How did you…?”

“The wooden stick has not been sanded. The cut marks are still fresh.” Mireth smiled. “That was kind of him.”

“Was it not? I am going to wear it straight away. Do you think my hair is long enough?”

“I should think so, though…” Mireth inspected the piece of leather. “This may be a little too big. You might find it comes loose until you have more hair to knot up into it. But we shall try it.”

Mireth was right, it was a little loose, the holes set slightly too far apart to be a tight fit for the comparatively small amount of hair Penny had to scoop up at the back of her head. It stayed in, but Penny had to readjust it every now and then, and did so twice even before the evening meal was ready.

This did not bother her in the slightest but did mean her hair became a little messier and looser than Mireth was happy with. Every time Penny pulled the tie out, roughly pulled her hair into a bun and pressed the leather over it, sticking the stick through the holes and her hair as best she could while Mireth was nearby, there would be a loud tutting and a heavy sigh before Mireth would insist on taking it out and doing it all over again herself.

After the evening meal, there was the same discussion as the previous night as to who might head up to the Meduseld. Penny was not sure, even when Faelon pointed out that she did not have to drink or eat anything while there and could even carry a small flask of boiled water with her if she wanted.

Halladan too seemed hesitant, and perhaps with even more reason than on the previous night. Arwen was still in the camp, so most of the elves were not heading up to the Meduseld. More than that, Aragorn had come to join her, and at the moment Eomer was with him, no doubt leaving his sister to tend to the guests in the Meduseld for the time being. Faramir was with him also and Gandalf, though there was no sign of the hobbits who were all keeping Merry company in the Meduseld.

It basically meant whatever small gathering might take place in Edoras would be a mortal-only affair pretty much and, while there would be serving wenches and various female Rohirrim in attendance, as well as the few Gondorian ladies-in-waiting who were busy getting to know the Rohirric nobles and their wives, most would be warriors, and the probability of certain topics of conversation being inescapable was even higher than the night before.

When Halladan decided he might stay, Faelon said he would join him. Arvain said he wanted to have a drink, heading off with Firmorndir, various other Gondorians and only one or two Dunedain.

There was an interesting moment just before he did so, however.

Corunir was with Fimorndir when he had stopped to see who from the Dunedain might join them for the walk up to the Golden Hall. He had even gone as far as asking Penny if she were well and smiling politely at her. He had just started to ask if she would be joining them and, if so, would she perhaps have a dance with him later when he was simultaneously talked over by both Fimorndir and Halladan at once. Fimorndir cut him off by hurriedly announcing they had best be off, while Halladan loudly wondered what it was Penny needed to talk to him about so urgently.

“What?” Penny blinked at him

“You said you need to talk to me, as your guardian. Now would be a good time, perhaps, no?”

“Er…?”

Halladan was already leading her away from the group, Fimorndir already doing the same to Corunir but in the opposite direction, Arvain flanking him and giving Corunir a fearsome glare (Halladan having told him exactly what Corunir had been playing at a week before). There was a faint mutter of ‘I was just being polite…’ from Corunir before he caught the look Arvain was giving him, at which point he shut up rather quickly.

“There will be dancing?” Penny was surprised.

“Yes, some, though rather sedate and low-key, I suspect. Most will not be indulging. Does not surprise me that Corunir would be one who does, though.”

Penny looked at him.

“You do not like him, do you?”

“No.”

“Any particular reason?”

After all, Corunir had been relatively tolerated in their company till he had chosen to stop muscling in on their gatherings only a week before, Penny mused. He had been an irritant, yes, but Halladan had spoken with real venom in his voice just then.

Halladan sighed, stopped walking and turned to look at her.

“I was not going to tell you, but if you ask me directly like that then… Besides, perhaps you have a right to know. If you want to know the truth, he had… ideas to woo you. Fimorndir warned me of it.”

“Oh.” She was confused. Why would that warrant him being quite so angry?

Halladan realised he would have to explain properly.

“He would not have been serious,” he explained. “His intention was only to make others think he was serious.”

“Oh.”

“Your reputation at court is one that some would not have considered you a suitable match. His mother, for instance, apparently. It seems he delights in the idea of annoying her as much as possible.”

She opened her mouth to say ‘oh’ once more but no sound came out.

She should not care. Corunir was clearly as much of a git as she had suspected he was, but it was still not a nice thing to hear, especially given it concerned how some considered her in court, even if it only confirmed what she already knew.

‘Not a suitable match’? Yeah, well, that pretty much summed it up, didn’t it? That was something she had tried not to think about. In fact with everything else crowding in on her head of late, it had not been too difficult, but it was something that had certainly occurred to her before now: if she was stuck here for the rest of her life, she was likely to live a very lonely life. After all, what sort of wife would she make a man in this society? She was less than useless at most things, and by the time she learnt anything of use to any degree of skill, she would likely as not be far too old to be in the marriage market. She was already edging towards the ‘strangely old to be still unmarried’ as it was, as Meresel had sometimes hinted.

“You must not take such things to heart, Pen-ii. Corunir is not worth your time or mine, and his idea of you, the idea that some in the court might have of you, is far from the truth. Besides, would you want to be the sort of woman that people such as they would approve of? Someone like Lady Sidhwen, for example?”

“Well, no…”

“Fimorndir does not agree with their assessment of you. He was furious on your behalf nearly as much as Arvain and I. Nor would any who truly know you and whose opinions matter agree either.”

Penny tried to smile, aware he was complimenting her, but the smile was a rather hesitant one. She still slightly bewildered.

There was a pause.

“Perhaps I should not have said anything. I believe in being honest, Pen-ii, perhaps a little too forcefully at times…”

“No, no. I am glad you told me. Glad in some ways that my assessment of him was not misplaced, though a little put out that the opinion of me is nearly as low in some quarters as I suspected it might be.” She gave a half-chuckle, almost rueful. “You know, not that long ago I would have been furious to hear something like this. I am sure I will be very angry indeed later when it sinks in, but right now… Ai, I don’t know… I have changed so much from the person I used to be, Halladan, and sometimes my reactions to things seem so strange. Other peoples’ opinions matter to me now in a way that they never used to. Which is not to say they never did, but I was more confident of myself… less sensitive to others’ opinion, if that makes any sense. It is partially the difference in society - here women perhaps do have to worry more about how they are perceived - but also my character, who I am or who I was, perhaps, is so out of sorts with how things are here that I am constantly made aware of it, have to worry about it…”

“Pen-ii,” Halladan interrupted, “I think you perhaps do not realise how much you have changed. The life of the court in Gondor is a rather singular one. You should not take the fact that you did not fit in well there as anything significant. Besides you also made good friends there, did you not? The kind of woman who would naturally fit in to such a place is not the kind of woman I would wish to be a guardian for, nor someone that my father would have wanted to have much to do with beyond his most basic duty. You can take my word on that. Surely even looking at the Rohirrim, you can see how different they are? The elves are a far nobler people than any Gondorian, but they do not have nearly the same attitudes and expectations, and you feel no such awkwardness or self-awareness in their presence, do you? That should tell you much. Believe me, Pen-ii, if your character was as unbecoming as some in Gondor thought it to be, no elf would have anything to do with you, nor any Dunadan.” He smiled. “I would not consider you the friend I do, nor Arvain, nor Faelon, nor any of us. You must believe that.”

She smiled then, if a little shyly. “Thank you.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do. I do not deserve it, but I thank you.”

“And you have every right to be angry with Corunir. If it were not for the fact that Fimorndir had already spoken to him and it would cause a scene, well I would have…” He stopped himself. “Well, no matter. He should know better, and if he makes any attempt to gain a hold in your affections, then I insist you let me know.”

“If he makes any attempt to gain a hold in my affections, you will know, Halladan, trust me.”

Not even a seasoned soldier was immune to a swift kick in the groin, after all.

Halladan looked at her, as if guessing her meaning from her tone of voice. He laughed quietly and shook his head.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He grinned and she returned it.

They walked together in companionable silence for a few more minutes, content to be in each other’s company. At last Halladan spoke.

“If I might say something, Pen-ii, while we are on this subject… I do not think Gondor would be the best place for you and I suspect deep down you know that. I know you have not asked for my advice, but there it is nonetheless.”

“It is funny you should say that, Halladan. I wanted to talk to you about this. I was going to this afternoon but you rushed off so fast after giving me the hair tie, that I forgot till afterwards.”

“Ah, so I unwittingly hit near the truth just now when I said you needed to talk to me, eh? And?”

She stopped and took a deep breath.

“I have to agree with you. Gondor is not the place I would wish to be. For all the reasons we have just discussed. More than that, I have to consider the fact that you and Arvain are insisting on staying wherever I do, and I suspect the last place you would wish to spend the next few years is in sight of the Pelennor and the Mountains of Mordor.”

“Pen-ii,” Halladan began, his voice low, “You know that such things are beside the…”

“No, let me finish, Halladan. It is not beside the point. It is an important thing to consider. I do not wish to be the cause of more distress for you, albeit unintentionally. Not only that but it would be difficult for me also to a lesser extent. It was hard enough the first time. The idea of going back there, to see it all once more…” She stopped, unable to continue. “There are things that made me pause about staying with Lord Elrond, however. No matter that I know he means it when he says I am more than welcome, I still feel uncomfortable knowing I am staying there unable to contribute meaningfully to the community, not able to pay my way in some fashion. That is without the awkwardness I feel after my outburst with him, which I know is entirely of my own making…”

“Pen-ii, I have told you…”

“Please, Halladan. I know.” She paused, trying to find her thread once more. “The other thing is… Well, I do not know how long the elves remain at Imladris. They might stay far beyond my lifespan and they might not.”

Halladan was looking at her in astonishment.

“Elladan and Elrohir do not sail with Lord Elrond, and Lord Celeborn comes to stay with them, but what happens then… how long they stay, or if they sail at all…”

“What?” Halladan’s voice was an appalled whisper.

“Oh, I am sure they do,” she added hurriedly. “Just ‘when’ is not known, that is all.”

Halladan said nothing for a moment, clearly somewhat stunned by the last part of what she had to say.

“You certainly have thought much about this,” he said at last, slowly.

“I have not been sleeping, I have been so concerned by it all. If I were to stay in Gondor… ai, the thought of trying to run a house by myself, Halladan, it terrifies me. I would not have the first idea of what to do. I have no skills for this life. At least in Imladris I can hide behind everyone else. I can help to a limited extent, but otherwise I am largely provided for. At the same time that makes me feel incredibly guilty. I am not that sort of person, Halladan. I make my own way, do things for myself. It is so frustrating not to be able to do so.”

It was still light, though dusk was beginning to draw in with the late summer night. They were near the edge of the encampment, just several yards away from the Dunadan fire. Halladan sat on the grass, looking up at the faint yellow glow above the mountains to the west.

“I understand, Pen-ii.”

He was leaning forward slightly, his hands clasped and his forearms on his knees. Penny sat down next to him. He looked at her.

“No doubt you feel you should somehow contribute even more, given how upset and angry you made Lord Elrond?”

Penny said nothing. She did not look at him at first, but eventually glanced sideways at him, a slightly sheepish look. Halladan nodded.

“Well, then, let me tell you what Arvain and I have discussed. I have held off saying anything since I did not want you to feel beholden to us in any way. I wanted you to decide between the choices presented to you by Lord Elrond and King Elessar first. If you had a genuine desire to live in Gondor or Imladris, neither Arvain nor myself would stand in your way, but would support you as best we could.” He held up a hand as Penny started to protest. “No, no, let me finish, Pen-ii.” He smiled. “It is my turn to talk now.”

“Sorry.” She gave him an embarrassed grin. “I shall keep quiet. You were saying.”

He inclined his head in thanks, still smiling.

“As I was saying, we are committed to you as guardians, whether you will or no. It was Father’s dying wish. So be it. We are happy to do it, were so even before we met you, doubly so now we have. Faelon is impressed by you and likes you, indeed he thinks our suggestion is a good one, after all, as you say, you do not know how long the elves might stay at Imladris, and many will leave with Lord Elrond. It will not be the same place you know it as then.”

“I know.” She felt a heavy weight in her stomach at the thought.

“Anyway, we were thinking…” He looked away from her, staring straight ahead at the mountains. “Why not come and live with us?”

Penny blinked at him. She was not sure she had heard him correctly. He rattled straight on, talking slightly too quickly, his voice a little gruff, as if trying to convince her this was a good idea.

“We have the space, we would be glad of the company, and how much easier to be guardians to you than if you were settled amongst our own? You have Sindarin, so there would be no problem of communication, and Faelon agrees with us that you would fit in far better with our people than any in Gondor or even here in Rohan. He is very taken with the idea, in fact, is talking already of how much you and his wife will get along... Of course you would have to stay at Imladris at first. We have work to do in the wilds first, as you know, and it would then take a little time to prepare things for you at home, but after some months you could…”

He paused and cleared his throat. Only now did he risk looking at her.

“Well, what do you think?”

Penny was still staring at him in bewilderment. The idea thrilled her and terrified her at the same time.

“I…”

She searched for the right words, was trying to get her brain in gear, was not wholly sure what her answer would be even as the words fell out of her mouth.

“I think… I think I would like that very much.”

Only then did Halladan realise he had been holding in his breath, letting it go as a broad grin spread over his face. Penny slowly matched it, even as she let the fact that she had agreed sink in.

“You are sure?”

“Yes. Yes, I think so.”

“You can always change your mind. If you feel you would prefer to live at Imladris, then it would be easy enough for you to stay on there instead. I do not want you to feel you have to accept this, none of us would.”

“No, no, not at all. I…” She looked down at her hands for a moment. “I have enjoyed being in mortal company. I love the elves and I have made many true friends amongst them, but…” She trailed off, not quite sure how to put it.

Halladan gave a soft laugh.

“I understand. For all you share much in common with the elves, you are still a mortal at heart.”

She looked at him, looked at the kind grey eyes smiling at her, and knew she was superbly pleased with her decision, could not have been happier in fact. As much as she could understand their reasons for having waited to tell her, if they had said something sooner it could have saved her a lot of stress. On the other hand, if she had been presented with the idea much earlier, she would never have got herself to the point of making her peace with Elrond, so perhaps there had been some benefit in the delay. Whatever the case, it now seemed like the obvious solution, and she was so grateful, so pleased that she could not even begin to express it.

Halladan murmured something about getting back to the fire and then seeing if Aragorn and Elrond were still in the camp so they could be told of her decision. He stood, holding out his hand to help her up.

Once she was on her feet beside him there was a moment’s hesitation, Halladan sensing that she perhaps wanted to say something.

“Thank you.”

She hugged him impulsively, standing on tiptoe slightly to do it, throwing her arms about his neck and pressing her cheek against his. She was acutely aware as she did so that he smelt faintly of leather and pipe smoke, that his cheek was slightly rough with stubble, that he was hugging her back and the muscles in his arms felt strong and warm against her back.

It was not likely anyone who saw them noticed that they held each other for a fraction of a second too long. It can be difficult to know when to break a clinch with someone without it seeming awkward, after all. But then they were guardian and ward, if not in some sense akin to brother and adopted sister in effect as well as friends. So if the hug seemed more than merely cursory, it was undoubtedly entirely understandable.

Author’s Notes:

My sincere apologies for the long delay in getting this chapter written. Real life has been getting increasingly hectic and detrimental to decent Penny-writing time.

Re. Elladan & Elrohir: in the main works, JRRT made it clear they did not sail with Elrond and Galadriel but stayed on in Imladris. Later Celeborn, who also did not sail then and there, left Lothlorien and came to stay with them there. What happened then was never specified in canon. In the Letters, however, JRRT seems to indicate that Elrond’s sons might eventually sail West, in that he makes it clear they could delay their choice – they did not have to sail with Elrond, but could still follow him later. He does not specify that they did indeed sail later, though, so it is still open to debate, though I like to think they do, if only because the angst on old Elrond’s head would surely be too much to cope with, the poor ellon. Penny’s response to Halladan then is not based on certainty. She is not lying so much as trying to sound positive.

My thanks, as ever, to all those still reading this and in particular those who take time to comment, review and get in contact – it is much appreciated.