A feast had been planned for that evening to mark the beginning of the negotiations. One hour before sundown, Aragorn announced a recess with the understanding that the talks would continue the next morning. The officers at the negotiating table rose and bowed formally, then left to make their separate preparations for the feast.

"I am still not satisfied with Ghayur's explanation of his sudden rise to power," Faramir said to Aragorn after the Haradrim had left. "There is too much of that tale left untold, and I am not convinced of his legitimacy to treat with us."

"Nevertheless, it is the only tale we have at the moment," Aragorn replied. "For all that it is incomplete, I believe that we find ourselves in as good a position as may be expected. Ghayur is aware of our distrust. If he is honest, he will find a way to prove his honesty to our satisfaction."

"And if he is not?"

"Then he cannot count on our unwitting belief in his lies," Aragorn said. "He knows that we are on guard against deceptions; therefore, if he is not honest, he will have to think of new ways to deceive us, and that may buy us some time to treat fairly with him and his folk."

"And if you discover that his command is not legitimate? A man who would assassinate his own superior may have few qualms about an attempt on a foreign ruler."

Aragorn shrugged. "We are not required to amend our trading agreement," he said. "Nor are we bound to retain it at all. By opening negotiations, all avenues have been thrown open to us, and I will take the one I deem fittest when all is said and done."

Faramir nodded. "Very well," he said. "As long as we both agree to remain on our guard with our guest, I am satisfied."

"Then let us go and refresh ourselves," Aragorn suggested. "We will put this long day behind us and enjoy the comforts of your household." With that, the two lords left the negotiation chamber behind.

Éowyn had arranged some time for light conversation before the start of the feast. Aragorn could smell the dishes as they were brought, one by one, from the kitchens to the servery, and he found that the appetizing scents stimulated his mind. He was in the midst of a sparkling chat with Ghayur when the chief of the Haradrim suddenly fell silent and gazed past Aragorn. Aragorn turned to discover what had captured Ghayur's interest, and saw Arwen, resplendent in a gown he had never seen before.

The fabric of the underdress was light in weight and flowed gracefully over Arwen's gently swelling figure, while the sky-blue of the surcoat complemented her rosy cheeks and dark hair. The dress did not so much conceal her pregnancy as frame it. Aragorn was momentarily stunned by the transformation. He was vaguely aware that women's gowns were constructed in complicated ways so as to flatter one figure or another, but he had never been able to understand how such tailoring worked. Now, for the first time, he began to see the effect that a change in clothing design could have.

Freed from the increasingly tight bodices of her everyday gowns, Arwen looked relaxed and graceful. She carried herself with ease and confidence, and at last Aragorn could see his wife glow. "Arwen," he said, collecting himself. "May I present Lord Ghayur of Harad. Lord Ghayur, the Lady Arwen, Queen of Gondor and Arnor."

Ghayur bowed low. "A fairer lady has never walked the earth," he said. "May I be permitted, O jewel of the evening sky, to extol your beauty even unto the farthest reaches of the desert. The voices of wind, water and the stars will sing the praises of my Lady and call good fortune upon the child to be."

Aragorn was somewhat taken aback by Ghayur's speech, but Arwen accepted it in stride. "I thank you, Ghayur, lord of the Haradrim," she said. "Your speech is fair, and I thank you for your words over my child. I am sure he will arrive the stronger for it."

Ghayur turned to Aragorn. "Your lady does honor to your house, O Elf-stone of the North," he said. "If I might beg of you the favor of sitting at her right hand at the feast, all those of my blood would forever be in your debt."

Aragorn looked at Arwen, who nodded serenely. He turned back to Ghayur. "Very well," he said. "I will grant you this favor as a token of goodwill between our peoples." Ghayur bowed low.

Several paces away, Faramir and Éowyn watched the exchange. Faramir had had to look twice when Arwen made her entrance, but as he watched Arwen move, a slow smile spread over his face. "That is one of your gowns, is it not?" he asked Éowyn.

"Aye, husband," she replied. "It is. She had no gowns of her own cut to accommodate a child, and, as I have no use for mine at the moment, I lent her those that I thought would fit her. This one suits her especially well, I think."

"Indeed." Faramir watched the royal couple for a moment. "Ghayur is quite taken as well," he observed.

"As well he ought to be," Éowyn said. "I do believe the Queen has been somewhat lonesome these past few months. It seems that the entire Citadel is so busy with preparations for the child that they have forgotten the mother."

"It has been long since there was a child born in the Citadel," Faramir observed. "Perhaps the staff may be forgiven their excitement."

"Perhaps," Éowyn said dismissively. "However, whether forgiven or no, the situation must be rectified. I believe I will journey to Minas Tirith this winter."

"We will discuss it later. For now, dinner has arrived." Faramir offered his arm to Éowyn. "The feast may begin. Will you accompany me to table, my lady?"

In the Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith, Doronrîn sat in a corner and attempted to work at a piece of embroidery. Her mind was elsewhere, however, and every few stitches she would pause, set the frame in her lap, and look around the room. Often, her eye alighted on Ioreth, who was singing snatches of old lays as she tied bunches of herbs to the drying lines. After some time, Ioreth paused in her work and looked at the Elf woman.

"All right," she said. "Begging your pardon, Lady Doronrîn, but your silence is unnerving. Will you tell me what troubles you?"

"Your pardon, Mistress Ioreth," Doronrîn said softly. "It was not my intention to disturb your work."

"No, I suppose it was not," Ioreth conceded. "You are silent enough over in that corner. But you look troubled. You frown a little, and your mind wanders from your embroidery. This does not seem to me to be the behavior of a calm and contented Elf."

"I am afraid that you have me there, Mistress Ioreth," Doronrîn said. "In truth, I have been thinking about the Queen. She is not fully an Elf, yet she is more slender than a daughter of Men. And she will deliver a child by a father who is both tall and broad. I do not like this situation, and I fear that I do not know enough about such births to be of use should an emergency arrive. Indeed, the lowest mule breeder knows more than I about such births."

"But surely there are records that you could study," Ioreth said.

"Alas, no. The art of midwifery is passed on among the Elves as it is among Men, taught to apprentices without benefit of text. And there have been few joinings of the two kindreds in history. I am sure that whatever precedent may have been set has not survived down the Ages of the world."

"Well, then, perhaps we must look closer to the present for an example. What of the lady mother of the Queen?" Ioreth suggested. "For if the Queen is the product of a mixed joining herself --"

Doronrîn stopped Ioreth with a look. "The Lady Celebrían no longer dwells on these shores," she said darkly. Then her expression lightened abruptly. "But you have given me an idea. Perhaps there are still some among the Queen's family remaining in Middle Earth who remember the time of her birth. I will write to Lord Celeborn and to the brethren Elladan and Elrohir. Perhaps they will have memories that may prove useful." She rose from her chair and strode into the master healer's office. Helping herself to a quill, ink, and a sheet of twice-scraped palimpsest, Doronrîn began to write in tiny, delicate characters.

Ioreth followed the Elf woman and watched her with some interest. "Is it the custom among Elves for men to attend a birth?" she asked.

"No," Doronrîn said. "It is not. However, within families, stories are often told. I hope that some tale of the Queen's birth was told to her brothers or her grandfather, though it is a faint hope indeed."

"Still, a faint hope is better than no hope at all." Ioreth watched as Doronrîn finished the letter, rolled it and tied it with a short scrap of twine from the ball used for tying herb bunches. "It is a long way to the north country," she said. "I will accompany you to the stables and show you the swiftest horses to bear your message away."

Doronrîn rose. "Thank you, Mistress Ioreth," she said. "Lead the way."

The two women hurried down to the stables and called for a messenger. The master of the King's post-riders appeared. At first he was not willing to send his fastest rider away on such a long journey without the King's personal order, but when Ioreth explained the nature of the message, he relented.

"After all," he said, "I do not see how the King could object to a message concerning the continued health and safety of the Queen. Hi! Amaethon!" he called to a slender youth. "You are to deliver a message to Imladris. The ladies will advise you of the way."

Amaethon approached them and bowed low. "To Imladris, my ladies? That is a long journey. I beg a night and a day to prepare."

Ioreth and Doronrîn looked at each other. "You shall have your night and day," Doronrîn said. "Tomorrow, one hour after dawn, I will show you maps and tell you of the swiftest route."

"Do not trouble yourself about the length of the journey," the master of the post-riders said. "Consider the service you will be performing for your lady the Queen."

Amaethon bowed once more. "I am honored to do your bidding," he said. "I will meet you at the first hour after dawn tomorrow." He turned and strode off to prepare himself for the journey.

Doronrîn and Ioreth walked back to the Houses of Healing in silence. As they reached the gates, Ioreth sighed. "It is a great risk for a slender hope," she said.

"Still, it is better to have made the attempt, even if it should fail," Doronrîn answered. "This confinement will be hard enough; I do not wish to have left any avenue of aid unpursued when the Queen's time draws near."

"Whenever that time may be," Ioreth added.

The second day of the negotiations dragged endlessly. Faramir began to understand why Denethor had always returned from trade negotiations in a foul mood. The conversation revolved endlessly around Harad's reasons for wishing to expand the trade agreement. It seemed clear to Faramir that the Haradrim wanted something from Gondor and felt that a higher trade status was the way to obtain it, but somehow, neither he nor Aragorn seemed able to ask the questions that would force Ghayur to reveal exactly what he wished of Gondor.

At the moment, the point of discussion was Ghayur's request for free access to Gondor's seaports. He spent much time describing in flowery language the rare and exotic goods that would allegedly flow like water into Gondor if only they could be transported by sea. For his part, Aragorn ignored the offers of aromatic spices and fruits, strange birds and plants, and repeatedly demanded to know why access to the strategically crucial seaports was so vital to Ghayur's vision of a trade agreement when such goods could be transported just as easily by land.

One of Ghayur's lieutenants began shouting, and Faramir buried his head in his hands. He remembered a conversation he had had with Legolas once, during which Legolas had expressed his considerable distaste for the formal process of diplomacy.

"Both sides enter negotiations with a set number of things they wish to discuss," Legolas had said. "They begin with the first item on the list and shout at each other until they are thoroughly weary of the topic. The side that wearies first loses the point. They then proceed to the next topic and shout at each other about that. When all the points have been shouted through, the negotiations are closed, and both sides claim victory. It is a bewildering and exhausting process, and there are few who can see it through with any success. To my mind, it is far superior to conduct simple business with a neighboring ruler rather than to cloak it in the trappings of diplomacy."

Faramir had, naturally, defended the diplomatic process, and he and Legolas had pursued a friendly argument over the topic for several hours. Now, as full diplomacy raged around him, Faramir felt himself nearly ready to concede every point he had raised in that discussion.

"And I say again, the seaports of Gondor will remain closed to Harad until I am given tangible proof that Harad has utterly ended its friendship with the Corsairs of Umbar!" Aragorn said.

"And how shall I prove this?" Ghayur countered. "Shall I produce a captain of the Corsairs to testify to the end of our association? But then the most estimable King of Gondor would say that, as I had convinced the captain to appear before him, I must still be secretly in alliance with him, and my proof would be for naught."

One of the captains of the Ithilien garrison opened his mouth to say something unpleasant to Ghayur, but before he could get a word out, Éowyn appeared in the door to the negotiation chamber and rang a small handbell.

"My lords," she said sweetly, "you have talked the morning away. Come, lay your differences aside for an hour and refresh yourselves. The midday meal awaits."

Faramir was pleased to see that he was not the only one who looked relieved at the interruption. The assembled lords rose to their feet, and Ghayur bowed first to Aragorn and then to Faramir. "My lords," he said pleasantly. "Let us now put aside our differences and refresh ourselves with the pleasures of the table and of the living jewels of the gardens. We may resume our debate in time."

"We will convene again in two hours' time," Aragorn announced, and the assembled lords trooped to the dining hall for a well-earned meal.

Éowyn and Arwen joined them at the table. Arwen wore another of the gowns Éowyn had lent her, this one a rich dark green with intricate knotted embroidery around the neckline. Aragorn seated himself beside her and helped himself to a spoonful of fresh peas before passing the dish to his wife. "How have you fared this morning?" he asked.

Arwen took a spoonful of the peas and passed the dish on to Ghayur, who was seated at her other side. "I have spent the morning in consultation with the Lady Éowyn. We have passed the morning most agreeably talking of matters of interest to women and mothers. I have bathed Olwyn and amused her with songs and tales. Éowyn has arranged to lend me those of her gowns suitable for mothers-to-be until the end of my confinement."

Aragorn gave her a puzzled frown. "Surely the House of Telcontar is not so poor that its lady must go begging for raiment."

"No," Arwen laughed. "This is a different matter. The loan of the gowns is temporary, but the gifts of wisdom and friendship that go with them are of far greater value. Indeed, I should thank you for having asked me to accompany you on this journey, for my visit with Éowyn has lightened my burden and provided solace and joy that I had not known was lacking before now."

"Then we have both profited," Aragorn said, "for your presence here lightens my heart during this difficult business."

"Your pardon, o great and glorious King," Ghayur put in. "The art of politics is ever a difficult business, but I do not wish to leave you and your lady with the thought that we of Harad are nothing more than difficult traders. When we have sated our hunger, will it please you to accompany me to our camping site? I have in my own tent an item that I now perceive to be of rare use to your lady in these northern climes. With your leave, I would present it to her as a gift."

Aragorn paused for a moment and looked to Arwen. He could see that her curiosity had been piqued, as had his own. However, he was not entirely willing to walk alone and unguarded into the camp of the Haradrim. He took a moment to consider the most polite way to frame his concerns.

"I will be happy to escort the Queen to your camping site," he said. "By your leave, I will also bring certain members of our negotiating party to observe that no bribery or secretive business is conducted."

Ghayur smiled broadly. "Bring your guards, King of Gondor," he said. "But I mean no harm to you or to your lady." With that, he rose from the table, gave a deep bow to his hosts, and left the manor.

Shortly thereafter, Aragorn and Arwen entered the camp of the Haradrim accompanied by two lieutenants of Faramir's household. Ghayur received them graciously, seated them on a long, low couch and offered small cups of strong, mint-flavored tea. Aragorn found the tea quite pleasant and wondered if the kitchens of the Citadel could reproduce the blend. Ghayur sat with them and made pleasant, if somewhat strained, conversation. When they had drunk their tea, he rose.

"You see?" he said. "You have not been harmed. Allow me to present my gift to the Queen of this realm, in the hopes that the child she bears will be both strong and wise." He gestured to his servants, who opened a trunk in the corner of the tent and brought forth a bolt of cloth, which they laid across Arwen's knees.

It was a dazzling white, light in weight, but with a drape almost as graceful as silk, and a texture as soft as well-worn linen. Arwen gently pulled the fabric and found that it was strong and tightly woven. Ghayur watched her examine it for a moment.

"It is made from the fibers of a plant that grows in our oases," he said. "It is called cotton, and its fibers can be spun into all sorts of textures. Cotton cloth may be made strong to rig sailing vessels, or soft to caress the delicate skin of a little child."

"It seems most versatile," Arwen said, stroking the smooth surface of the cloth. "This particular cloth is quite lovely."

"Then keep it, o jewel of the gloaming. It is yours to work with as you please. Know that the favor and devotion of Ghayur, Lord of all Harad, will follow you for a lifetime."

Aragorn was not sure that he approved of Ghayur's tone towards his wife, but he caught a warning glance from Arwen and kept his peace. Arwen smiled at Ghayur.

"I thank you, Lord Ghayur, both for your gracious gift of cotton and for your fair words to me. I will not forget them."

When Ghayur bowed in response, Aragorn felt a sudden stab of intuition. He was fairly sure that Ghayur himself meant no harm to Gondor, but he feared that the man's ultimate motives were far more complex and labyrinthine than he had originally suspected. There was a secret behind the expedition of the Haradrim that he had not yet uncovered, and he guessed that this secret was the missing information that would determine the wisdom of an alliance between Gondor and Harad.

Faintly, they heard the clanging of a bell that signified that the refreshment period was over and it was once again time to resume negotiation. Aragorn handed the bolt of cotton cloth to one of the lieutenants and assisted Arwen to her feet. As the small party made its way back to the manor house, Aragorn began to rough out strategies for uncovering Ghayur's secret in his mind.