~ Wynne has a woman crush, and gets to meet her relative Aragorn. In the morning more people arrive in the city. ~

53. An Unexpected Meeting

Rather starstruck, Wynne numbly rode after the king and queen. Now that she finally had met him, King Elessar was quite imposing.

Prince Faramir had briefly introduced everyone to the king upon arrival, but more formal introductions would follow later after they had time to freshen up and change clothes. Rooms were already prepared for them in the city's finer guesthouses, near the Citadel.

Wynne guessed this was a great honor in itself, and in addition they would be followed there personally by the king and his family.

Only to think the King of Gondor was escorting an uruk-hai and a Haradrim into the very heart of the Guarded City! Who could have imagined that ten years ago when the city had struggled so hard to keep those peoples out of it?

Next to the king rode Queen Arwen Undómiel in an ornate side saddle, the train of her dress spilling over her beautiful young stallion's back.

Arwen was the first female elf (or half-elven) Wynne had ever seen and she had still not fully regained her composure. The male elves had intimidated her the first time she met them, but that was nothing compared to the reaction the queen had provoked. Her exquisite beauty was ethereal, as if she were lit from within by a multitude of stars through her pale skin. She had bright eyes framed by long, dark lashes and elegantly arched eyebrows.

Wynne had never imagined she could be attracted to another female but now she realized she was, and she threw Legolas a guilty glance to make sure he didn't notice her staring.

After a while the sight of the city enabled her to tear her gaze away from the stunning half-elven and she looked around her with interest. The main street meandered from one level to the next, each time passing through a new gate. Again Gimli pointed out structures his workers had created; a house here, a segment of wall there. He had also designed most of the gates though none were as impressive as the Great Gate, of course.

Legolas rode next to Wynne, silent and lost in thought. Perhaps he regretted being inside a city of stone again? As far as she knew, only one tree grew here, the famous white one that symbolized Gondor.

Or maybe it was something his father had said to him on the bridge? But he had seemed happy after that conversation, as if they had come to some sort of understanding, and when Thranduil apologized to Wynne during lunch she had begun to hope he might finally allow Legolas' and her courtship.

The stables were located at the sixth level of the city and there they must part with the horses for a while. Wynne always felt bad about leaving them, but these stables were really magnificent, big and airy, and the feed was of finest quality.

They entered the final level on foot and the king led them out on a ledge that extended over the city like the prow of a ship. The view was breathtaking; clusters of stone houses with conical roofs and pinnacles were wedged in between the seven walls, and further out expanded the farms, pastures and orchards of the Pelennor Fields, lush green and thriving. The checkered pattern strongly reminded Wynne of the view from the Falls of Rauros.

They admired the white tree as well, with its many blossoms just beginning to fall off and mature into fruit.

Legolas patted its slender trunk lovingly. "This has become a strapping young tree since last I saw it."

The king smiled and replied something in a language Wynne didn't understand. She was so used to the elves speaking Westron, the Common Speech, that she had almost forgotten this was not their first language. Now she felt left out, and it bothered her.

Before they went to their rooms they were invited to dinner in the king's private house. "I prefer a more informal first meeting," he explained. "Tomorrow I am expecting King Éomer and his attendants. We will begin the official peace discussions when he has arrived."

A very properly uniformed manservant showed them to the guesthouse. The place looked a lot like Éowyn's and Faramir's guest rooms back in Osgiliath, but larger and more luxurious. Instead of a wooden tub in the room they had access to a whole bathhouse with one part for the ladies and one for the gentlemen, to which water from a mountain lake was brought through channels and lead pipes. The servant explained that all the city's wells and public baths were supplied with water through those channels and the richer inhabitants even had pipes leading into their houses. By opening a tap, they could get fresh water anytime they liked!

In addition to this luxury there was a grand lavatory with many booths. The holes in the benches lead to a channel with running water that the servant called a sewer. Through the sewer the waste was flushed down to the plains where the farmers made good use of it.

Alone in her room, Wynne washed her face and hands in a bowl on a stand and changed into a dress again. Not the red, daring one – she would see a king after all and hoped to make a good first impression.

The royal couple's private house was cozy, not at all like the elegant Citadel – or Faramir's residence for that matter. It was situated right underneath the mountain the city leaned on and was a white stone building with an orange, tiled roof, surrounded by a square of well mowed grass. Inside, Wynne estimated that the dining room was no larger than the one in her home, and the furniture was ordinary wooden tables and chairs.

A carpet drew Sidra's attention. "Is this Haradrim?" She stroked its red-and-gold pattern. "Silk, right?"

"Yes, it was a gift from the new King of Near Harad when we negotiated a trading agreement last year." Aragorn smiled.

He had such a kind smile. Here in his own home he no longer appeared as intimidating as at the Gate. Instead he was starting to remind Wynne of her father – both his physical features and his gentle manner.

"You are Sidra of Harad, the uruk-hai's spouse?" he asked now, graciously ignoring that she had addressed him without a formal introduction.

She beamed at him. "That's right. This is him, Nugu of Emyn Muil." She indicated her husband as if it was not evident he was the uruk-hai. "And our sons are Muzadi and Rohi."

The boys had already disappeared with Elboron and Prince Eldarion into an adjoining room; presumably the prince's nursery judging by the unmistakable clatter of building blocks rolling on floor tiles.

Next, the two kings greeted each other. Aragorn said something, again in that foreign, lilting language Wynne didn't understand.

"What did you say?" asked Sidra, never one to be shy about such things.

"Speak Westron, love," said Arwen. Her voice was melodious like a silver bell.

"My apologies. I said that I am honored to have the King of the Woodland Realm as my guest," repeated Aragorn. "I heard much about your remarkable success restoring Greenwood to its former glory."

"Thank you. I dare say, though, that not all you heard of my kingdom was flattering." Thranduil smiled wryly.

"I do not pay much attention to slander."

"That honors you." He bowed and continued, more politely than Wynne had ever seen him: "I was profoundly impressed with what King Éomer and you have achieved in the Marshes. I had not seen that place since the Battle of Dagorlad and I could hardly recognize it." At the mention of the battle something dark passed over his face.

Maybe Thranduil had bad war memories just like his son.

More introductions followed. When it was Wynne's turn, Aragorn greeted her very politely. "I am enchanted to finally meet my relative. You must be my...?"

"Third cousin's granddaughter," she supplied proudly. "My Grandmama's mother was your grandfather Arador's cousin."

"Right. That had slipped my mind."

Gimli sniggered and she frowned at him. "What's funny?"

"Naething."

Before they sat down to dinner, Aragorn wished to hear everything about the orc town and peace treaty, apparently intent on being well informed before tomorrow's more formal council. 

Nugu had become better at telling his story by now and it had a similar effect as when he told it at Faramir's residence: the king and queen both looked horrified and at loss for words.

When Thranduil recounted the details of the peace treaty, Aragorn nodded thoughtfully. "It seems like a well drawn agreement. Still, my people would need our own treaty and it has to be supported by the nobles of Gondor and Rohan, and then signed in person by the orc leader." He turned to Nugu. "It is unfortunate he could not be present. That means that, even if the council agrees to peace, we shall have to wait until I can meet him."

Nugu nodded. "He doesn't dare go out but I could lead your emissary to him. Or yourself, if you wish."

"We shall discuss that tomorrow. Now, I am sure you must be hungry!"

Wynne enjoyed the dinner immensely. The food was tasty but not extraordinary and there were only very few servants around. It made her a bit hopeful about Legolas' and her future – for, if the King of Gondor could have such a simple private life, what was to say they couldn't too?

The conversation, however, was rather dull in her opinion. At the head of the table, Aragorn, Thranduil and Faramir talked of finances. Faramir had told of his plans to restore southern Ithilien and build a city in the hills of Emyn Arnen, where his summer estate was located, and asked if Aragorn could help fund this project. Building up Osgiliath had more or less emptied his coffers.

"I shall see what I can do." Aragorn sighed. "Transforming the Marshes and building the Lift of Rauros has nearly drained my treasury as well. I am sure the increase in trade and taxes will make it pay off eventually, but I am yet to see that happen."

"You should establish a trade route to my realm," suggested Thranduil. He swirled the contents of his glass. "I could export Dorwinion wine down the Anduin."

Meanwhile, Arwen was talking with Sidra and Éowyn about children, something concerning potty training by the sound of it. Hearing an otherworldly beauty such as Arwen speak of poop and diapers was disconcerting, and besides, the topic bored Wynne almost as much as economy. She asked Nugu to tell some of his riddles instead, and soon she was agreeably occupied at guessing them with Legolas and the other elves.

When they left Aragorn's house later Legolas walked close to Wynne. "Do not come to my room tonight," he mumbled in her ear. "And I know you planned to, do not lie." He smirked at the face she made. "Ada wants to speak to me and I think I shall finally be able to persuade him to accept our relationship."

Wynne had no objections against that, of course. She didn't really mind anyway; she was tired and could use having an early night for a change.

oOo

Breakfast the next morning was served in an airy room on the guesthouse's second floor. The many windows faced the city below and the view was magnificent.

"King Elessar knows how to impress his guests," remarked Thranduil when he entered together with Legolas. The Elvenking looked unusually relaxed and lighthearted, and the same went for his son.

Wynne felt a twinge of happiness. Whatever they had talked about last night had clearly changed something in their relationship.

She tried to ask Legolas about it after their hearty meal of bread, cheese, hams and sausages.

"I shall tell you later. My father and I must go and greet King Éomer, he just arrived."

"I will go with you. He is my king, after all, not yours." She grinned.

Legolas gave her a quick peck on the cheek which made her smile grow wider. He had kissed her in front of his father! That must be a good sign.

When they arrived at the seventh gate the King of Rohan was just walking up from the stables, surrounded by a group of lords and vassals. Éomer wore no crown and his clothes were simple, but Wynne recognized him easily. She had met him once before, several years ago in Edoras, when she was twelve. Her mother had had an errand there and decided it would be good for Wynne to come along and hopefully catch the eye of the king. This was obviously before she came up with the elf-marriage plan, back when she still would be satisfied if her daughter became Queen of Rohan.

It had not worked, of course, the young king had still been overcome with grief after his uncle's demise, and besides, he was more than twice Wynne's age. He had barely even noticed she was there and only focused on the horses he wished to buy.

Not long afterwards, news of his impending marriage with a princess had reached them and Mother had been furious, because that meant there were no royal bachelors left in Rohan or Gondor. The following years she had researched kings and princes of other countries, making lists and grand plans, until finally came the opportunity to send Wynne on a journey with both a king and a prince.

Soon, Mother's scheme to marry her off advantageously might prove successful. Wynne could just hope her intended and his father would never find out about it...

That was when she saw something in Éomer's entourage, an all too familiar face.

"Mother...?"

A/N:

So, here she is at last, the woman we have feared since chapter one...

On a different note: While writing this story I've been so intrigued by Thranduil; his early life, his wife, his father Oropher. What gave him the idea that it's so difficult to feel the difference between love and desire? Something he knows from experience, perhaps...? So, I found myself starting another WiP (sorry!) about that. :) It's called Thranduil's Shadow.