Advance author’s note: Right, well, I would if I could, but you said I mustn’t so I won’t. Thus, this is me not apologising. … *hides*

Chapter 24 – Wine, Women and Song

Arvain turned out to be a very good dancer.

As did Faelon, who offered Penny his arm as soon as she had finished (and whom she did not feel she could very well refuse, given she had just danced with Arvain).

After which, almost inevitably, Lindir would not be refused either. Nor Celebdor. Nor Rhimlath. Nor Arvain (once more), who said he would teach her a slightly faster dance tune as it started up. Nor one or two Dúnedain who, it transpired, had been chivvied into asking her by Arvain and Lindir between them. Even Elladan muscled in on the act, laughingly saying he had ‘better take advantage of Penny actually accepting dances for once before it never happened again in her lifetime.’

Penny found she was actually enjoying herself. Having had a little bit of practice in Imladris and Lothlorien (as well as Rohan, though she barely remembered it) helped to lessen her nerves. She was just thankful that Gondorian dance steps were not overly complex or exuberant. Presumably the more bouncy stuff was being indulged in down in the first level of the city. Up here in the rarefied atmosphere of the wealthy and well-to-do, things were slightly more staid.

(Or at least they would be until a little later in the evening once a bit more wine and mead had been drunk by dancers and minstrels alike).

After an hour of almost non-stop dancing, though, she had to sit down. She had finished yet another dance with Arvain and Lindir had stepped over to her with a grin as the last notes echoed up into the roof rafters. His face quickly turned to concern, though, as Penny’s responding smile seemed a little wobbly and feeble.

“Come and rest,” he said quickly. “I had forgotten it has been a while since you were used to such exertion.”

Mireth fussed over her, of course, and banned her from dancing for a while. Lindir joked that Penny was probably quite pleased to hear her say that, and was astonished when Penny said she had been enjoying it.

“I do not believe it! At long last! I knew if I persevered she would-“

“I helped,” Arvain pointed out.

“Yes, indeed,” Lindir conceded, “Between the two of us we have-”

“I note I am not acknowledged in having a hand in it at all.” Penny sounded rather put out.

“Of course not,” Lindir retorted. “If we had not bullied…”

“And coerced…” Celebdor added

“And insisted…” Arvain continued

“She would not be in the state of near exhaustion she is now!” Mireth finished for them.

“Ah…”

“Well…”

“Um…”

“‘Near exhaustion’ is something of an exaggeration, Mireth,” Penny pointed out, but she was still relegated to the bench for a good while.

After another hour or two (during which Penny had a few more dances, despite Mireth’s protests), the same Gondorian who had tried to organise the seating for the feast clapped his hands in the direction of the balcony, and made signals at the minstrels that they could have a break.

Penny decided she needed some air, as well as to answer nature’s call, and she, Mireth and Eleniel ambled off together to find the nearest latrines. They left behind them a group of males, mortal and immortal, all shaking their heads and wondering why it was females always needed to do these sorts of things in groups.

When they returned, they found Lindir, Halladan, Arvain, Rhimlath and Erestor all in a group. It was clear a sort of impromptu recital had started up. Everyone was listening to three small boys standing in front of the royal couple and singing in high, tremulous voices while a rather thin, bony Gondorian kept time with his hands beside them.

One after another, singers, musicians or poets stood forth. Much was impromptu, with a particular person being pushed forward by their friends, or else a certain piece being asked of a well-known artist. A harpist from Dol Amroth, in the city visiting her mother, played a beautiful tune that Lindir murmured he would have to learn before he left. Lindir himself, of course, had his turn, at the request of many there, including the King and Queen. The Great Hall went completely silent as everyone listened with rapt attention as he sang, unaccompanied, of a long unrequited love joined at last.

At last Rhimlath got up at Aragorn’s behest. Penny did not doubt that to many there he seemed tall, beautiful and terribly impressive as he made his way to the centre of the Hall where everyone could see him, picking off an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve and smoothing down his hair. To Penny, though, he had that supercilious look about him, a slight smug arch to one eyebrow, that told her he considered whatever he was about to recite to be his finest work. She whispered as much to Erestor.

“Oh, he always thinks his latest piece is his finest work,” Erestor replied. “He is forever perfecting his craft.” He said this last comment with a perfectly straight face, but Penny could see the hint of laughter in his eye.

The ode, just as Lindir had predicted, was indeed very long. By the end of it Penny could feel her backside going numb against the wooden bench she was parked on.

It was also utterly incomprehensible to most there since, again as Lindir had predicted, it was entirely in Quenya. Erestor tutted once or twice and shook his head as if noting a wrongly inflected noun here or a badly declined verb there. Penny was not sure she wanted to be around if Rhimlath asked for Erestor’s opinion afterwards because she did not doubt for one moment Erestor would give it to him, in length and in detail.

As far as she was concerned, though, it sounded wonderful. She made a point of telling him so afterwards, too, because she felt sure from the expressions on Lindir’s and Erestor’s faces that they were about to tease him mercilessly.

“Really? You enjoyed it? I am pleasantly surprised, I must say. How gratifying. I mean, of course, you could not possibly have understood it, far too lofty a theme for a mortal to truly grasp in any sort of depth even if you were capable of understanding Quenya…”

Penny sighed. She was not sure why she had bothered.

Clearly it was felt a change of mood was called for after that, though, and there were no more recitations or songs. Everyone was asked to slowly make their way outside in the courtyard for a little while so that the servants had space to bring the tables back in and ready everything for the evening feast. Penny did wonder if Rhimlath’s lengthy piece of ‘high art’ had simply killed the recital flat, though she would not have dared tell him so. Erestor, however, had no such qualms and loudly pointed out to Rhimlath how everyone seemed in an awful hurry to declare an end to the proceedings after he was done.

“Only because they realise no one could possibly match such a work,” Rhimlath replied imperiously.

“Oh, I think that is very likely the cause… Though perhaps not for the reasons you may think, Rhimlath.”

The smirk Lindir threw in Erestor’s direction as he said this was matched by Erestor’s own, who then covered his laughter with a cough.

“I notice it is rare indeed when you attempt a work in Quenya,” Rhimlath retorted.

Lindir narrowed his eyes. “I have written several songs in Quenya as you well know, and one which even Gil-galad himself -”

“Oh, forgive me, Lindir,” Rhilmath snorted, “but you know as well as I that Gil-galad was always most courteous and generous to the youngsters under his command whether it was warranted or not. It was very kind of him to humour you so, but -”

“Humour?!” Lindir looked livid.

“- but in truth, you have to admit that his doing so only served to encourage you in some really rather basic errors and lackadaisical phrasing -”

If Lindir had had a conniption fit then and there on the spot it would not have surprised Penny in the least.

“You declined ‘forebear’ incorrectly,” Erestor cut in. “And I have no idea what you meant in the line about ‘begetting starlight in spite of buttery pools’ or some such nonsense. Muddling up your vocabulary lists again, no doubt. I have warned you before about insisting on making your own rather than sticking to the tried and tested grammars.”

Rhimlath flushed hotly.

Arvain looked at Penny with one eyebrow raised. “Are they always like this?”

Halladan, Penny and he were hanging back a little as the bickering ellyn walked ahead of them.

“Believe me, Arvain, the Westron lessons were far worse. It was most trying, to say the least. It was why I refused to attend the lessons in the end.”

“I am not sure I blame you,” Halladan muttered.

They made their way down the steps and into the melee. Halladan and Arvain left Penny with Erestor and Lindir while they peeled Rhimlath off to introduce him to some Dúnedain before the three ellyn fell out completely.

In the crowd spirits were high. People slowly trundled down the steps and spread out to fill the courtyard in little groups where the conversations were filled with extravagant stories and laughter. After a little while, Lindir, still smarting over the denigration of his Quenyan skills, disappeared off somewhere, no doubt to hunt down Rhimlath and finish their row. At the same time, Legolas happened to pass by and was engaged in conversation by Erestor. Thus, Penny found herself alone with them both for a moment.

She decided to take the opportunity to say something.

“Lord Legolas, I wanted to ask you… That is I feel I owe you… Perhaps this is not the time, but I have to tell you…”

Legolas looked at her with a shrewd gaze. He could guess what she wanted to say. He smiled.

“I have not forgotten my promise, Lady Pen-ii. Do not fear. I stand by it.”

Penny let out a sigh of relief, her eyes closing for a moment before she opened them once more and looked gratefully at him.

“Thank you, Lord Legolas, that means much to me.”

Legolas nodded. “I understand you wish to talk of all that has passed. I would be most interested to learn more from you also, as would Mithrandir and King Elessar, I do not doubt, but…”

“There will be time enough to discuss this after today’s festivities,” Erestor said kindly. “Try not to trouble yourself about such things today, Pen-ii.”

“Indeed, as Erestor says, today is a day to forget such trials and dangers as have been faced so very recently. It must be difficult for you, perhaps, but there is enough enjoyment to be had this day to allow you to forget for a while, no?”

“You are both correct, of course. Forgive me for mentioning it.”

“Not at all, Pen-ii,” Erestor laughed gently. “I am surprised you have restrained yourself this long, in all honesty, nor are you to be blamed. Legolas is correct: Mithrandir knows of your desire to speak with him, and I do not doubt that he and Estel will strive to make time for you as soon as they may. However this,” he waved around him in an expansive manner, “takes priority for today, as I am sure you appreciate.”

“It is a momentous day.”

“It is indeed. I saw you dancing earlier. You seemed as if you were enjoying yourself.” There was a note of surprise in his voice, and the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Are you mocking me, Lord Erestor?”

“What? No! No, not at all! Surprised, perhaps, that you were so willing, that is all. Could it be that Lindir has finally cured you?”

“‘Cured’?” Legolas looked bemused.

“Oh, Lady Pen-ii here is famed for her reluctance to dance. … Well, unless it be down the hills of Rohan, that is.” He chuckled.

Penny looked appalled, flushing bright red, and glanced at Legolas, wondering what on earth he would make of it all.

“Oh, yes, I heard all about that!” Legolas laughed. “I am sorry to have missed it!”

‘Damn, bloody, gossipy elves!’ Penny fumed. ‘Can never keep a damn thing to themselves!’

Legolas noted the brief flash of fury across her face which just made him laugh even more.

“Ai, you must know how we are by now, Lady Pen-ii. It is hard to keep anything quiet among elves if it is a story that will entertain.” He grinned. “Especially if Lindir has anything to do with it.”

Penny made a mental note to take Lindir to task at the earliest opportunity.

“Well, if you are ‘cured,’ as Lord Erestor suggests,” Legolas continued, “then you will do me the honour of a dance later this evening perhaps?”

“Oh, ah, well, if you insist, um, it would be churlish to refuse…”

Erestor laughed out loud. “Not cured entirely, it would seem!”

“What is this? Is Lady Pen-ii still unwell? I hope not, indeed.”

“No, no, Estel, I was talking of Penny being cured of her dislike of dancing.”

“Ah.” Aragorn grinned. “Yes, that is as it should be. I would not have anyone not dance on my wedding day. I trust you are enjoying yourself, Pen-ii?”

“Who could not, with such wonderful entertainment in such beautiful surroundings?”

“She has this knack of saying the right thing, does she not?” Aragorn turned to Erestor with a grin. “I say she will fit in very well in court.”

“Oh, but I mean it.”

Penny decided not to react to the implied understanding between Aragorn and Erestor that her staying in Minas Tirith was a ‘fait accomplis’. Now was not the time.

“I do not doubt you do. It must be… an experience for you to be here after all you have read and heard of this place.”

The words were innocuous enough, perhaps, but the meaning was glaringly obvious to all four of those standing there. Penny nodded dumbly for a second.

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

Suddenly Eleniel pushed her way past Legolas.

“Pen-ii? Ah, there you are!”

She grabbed Penny’s hand and started to pull her away. At the same time, Arwen, who had just arrived at Aragorn’s side, had barely had time to say two words to him before Mireth did the same thing to her. Immediately both she and Penny were being dragged through the crowd, without explanation, and leaving the astonished males in their wake.

It was quickly apparent what the fuss was about, though.

A great group of ellith were dancing and singing in a sort of reel at the far end of the courtyard. As soon as Arwen realised what was going on, she picked up her skirts with one hand and, hand in hand with Mireth, ran to join in, the pair laughing gaily as they did so. Penny and Eleniel joined the end of one line, Penny clapping in time to the tune and trying to take notice of the steps.

Both the dance and the tune were easy enough, though. More and more ellith joined them, and any passing lady of Gondor was grabbed and roped in as well. Pretty soon nearly every female there was involved, laughing, singing and skipping round each other in great twists and formations that folded in on themselves, reformed and folded once more. Even Galadriel passed Penny by on several occasions, suddenly looking a lot sprightlier than Penny ever remembered seeing her before.

The males all stood and watched - the mortals bemused yet enchanted and the immortals smiling broadly. Many were clapping along in time to the song as well. If any male she knew caught Penny’s eye, they nodded and smiled broadly to see her as such an enthusiastic member of this brief moment of enjoyable silliness. Halladan was chuckling and shaking his head at her as she whirled past him.

Inexorably the females were making their way across the courtyard. Then at some point Aragorn was reached and either pulled by his hand to join them or else somehow the dance enveloped him by design. Penny was not sure which and, judging by the expression on Aragorn’s face, neither was he, since he seemed quite bewildered to find himself suddenly in the middle of it all. At the same time Arwen was left standing alone, facing him, even as the women danced, sang and twirled around them.

Then, all of a sudden, the singing reached a long, high note at the end of the chorus. Aragorn instinctively caught Arwen round the waist as she stepped up to him, and then she leaned forward and kissed him. In that same moment, the dancing and singing stopped and everyone exploded into laughter and applause, while the bride and groom were briefly left locked in an embrace in the middle of them all.

“It is a silly thing that the younger elves might do in play or else in summer festivals. We often do this at a wedding, just for the enjoyment of it.” Eleniel was grinning hugely as she explained to Penny and anyone else who cared to listen.

“Ah, does it not set such a romantic mood?” Mireth had one arm round Celebdor’s waist, her head against his chest. Celebdor looked like the cat that had got the cream.

But then so did Aragorn a little way behind him, seemingly a little reluctant to let Arwen out of his arms, who was laughing and denying all responsibility for the dance.

“I was taken just as much by surprise as you.”

“Yes, but you knew well enough what it would lead up to, did you not?”

“Perhaps.” She giggled.

“I see.” Aragorn raised an eyebrow. “Well, in that case…” He pulled her close and kissed her once again.

There was a discreet cough nearby.

“Your Majesty?” It was Faramir, with the Gondorian Maitre D’ (as Penny now thought of the poor man trying to organise everything and keep some semblance of order about the proceedings) hovering next to him. “Forgive me, but everything is readied.”

“Ah, very good, Faramir. Thank you, Dúrion, you may let everyone know.” Dúrion scuttled off to see if this time he could get a more organised seating arrangement. It was an exercise in futility, but he was determined nonetheless.

“Lord Faramir, I do not believe you have yet met Lady Pen-ii. She travelled south with Lord Elrond. She has been a guest in Imladris for many months – indeed, since before I began my journey indeed.”

Faramir inclined his head most graciously, his hand across his breast.

“It is an honour,” he said. “If that is the case, then you must have met my brother, Lord Boromir.”

Penny was not sure how she managed it, but she did not bat an eyelid as he said this. She noticed those near her looking at her as if to gauge her response to Faramir’s comment. She did not doubt that Aragorn had guessed long ago what the true reason for her avoiding Boromir had been, but others such as Celebdor could not be wholly certain (though they knew now she had had some foreknowledge so perhaps could have put two and two together).

“I did indeed. The honour is all mine to meet the brother of so noble a man as he. He was always most gracious and kind to me, even though at that time I knew no Sindarin and we could not properly converse. I… I was so sorry to hear of his fall.” Okay, now she was faltering, she could feel it. This was the wrong thing to have said. The wrong thing and the wrong time. She fought to keep a grip. “He was a great man, Lord Faramir, of that I have no doubt.”

Faramir nodded and smiled, thanking her for her kind words.

As everyone slowly made their way back towards the Hall, Penny felt a gentle tug on her sleeve. It was Aragorn. He bent to murmur quietly into her ear.

“Well said, Lady Pen-ii. Boromir was indeed an honourable man. I grew to love him as a brother.”

She gave him a faltering smile. “I know you did.”

He nodded. “Tomorrow, Pen-ii. I know you have much you wish to discuss, and I with you. Tomorrow, I promise you.”

Penny was surprised. “So soon? I mean, is there no tradition of…” She realised she knew no word for ‘honeymoon’ or even ‘holiday’. “Um… well, the bride and groom, do they not… have time alone for a few days at least?”

“The business of state continues, married or no, Pen-ii.” Aragorn laughed quietly. “I will not be rushing out to battle for a few days if I can possibly help it, of course, but otherwise I think I can perhaps spare you an hour or so.” He smiled. “If Arwen will allow me the time, that is,” he added with a grin in Arwen’s direction. She smiled and shook her head at him slightly, then laughed.

Penny was sure she did not want to know, thank you very much.

The evening feast was just as sumptuous as the earlier one. Minstrels entertained with songs throughout, the wine flowed and the conversation seemed to slowly increase in volume as the evening wore on. A few speeches were said and toasts drunk. Faramir spoke very movingly on how proud he was to be part of this historic moment, how pleased the people of Gondor were to at last have their King returned and that such a beautiful wife of such a noble race would do both King and country great credit and honour. It went down very well with the elves, who nodded and murmured appreciatively and declared they could understand entirely what Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas saw in him.

Afterwards, just as before, most of the tables were removed and the few that remained pushed to the sides so that there was space for dancing. This time Penny had no excuses to make to anyone who asked for a dance and Arvain got in first, deaf to Mireth’s insistence that Penny take it easy and not overdo it.

Legolas got his dance, Elrohir insisted he have must have one since his brother had had one that afternoon, Faelon got two, and even Glorfindel got in on the act. He proved himself to be another Rúmil by practically dragging her round the room to a fast-paced tune with her feet a good two inches off the floor for most of it.

If that were not enough, Penny even had one or two offers to dance from Gondorians, all of whom Penny did not know or had only just met. Of course, this was due to the fact that not only was she ‘the woman who had arrived in the company of elves’, she was also ‘the woman who was clearly an intimate friend of the Queen, given she had hugged and kissed her’ as well as the woman who, it appeared, ‘was on first name terms with the King, Mithrandir, various Dúnedain and every one of the higher-ranking elves, don’t you know.’

Penny knew none of this, of course. The elves were friends, the Dúnedain were friends of friends, but the Gondorians had no need to ask her to dance to make her feel good or be friendly, so she reasoned. Thus, for the first time that day, she felt genuinely flattered.

It was all rather spoilt, however, when a slightly portly, middle-aged (but rather grand) gentleman sedately led her round the marbled, inlaid floor, and at the same time tried to grill her on Lord Elrond, Lothlorien and how she knew the King so well. Thus Penny at last guessed the true reason for her new-found popularity as a dance partner amongst the men of Gondor.

Still, it was nice to be asked.

At the same time as her reputation was rising amongst some of the Gondorian lords, though, so it was slowly becoming mud with a few of the women. They too had noticed this foreigner stepping round the dance floor on the arm of various elvish and Dúnedain lords, and they were not amused. That Penny had managed to get a dance out of both Elladan and Elrohir without so much as a flutter of her eyelashes had one or two positively seething, since they had tried (and failed) to interest the brothers in all the time they had been in Minas Tirith before leaving for Rohan.

That said, however, there were more than enough ellyn to go round. The Dúnedain had taken their fair share of ‘interest’ from the ladies of Gondor since the War, but now with a room full of ellyn as well as the striking men of the North, the unattached women of Minas Tirith were nearly beside themselves and hardly knew where to look. Even the married women got a bit flustered at points, much to their husbands’ irritation.

The younger the unattached maids of Gondor were, the sillier they were about it all, with much huddling together, and conspiratorial whispering and nudging whenever an ellon walked past. An explosion of hysterical giggling would break out if one of them was actually asked to dance, from both the one asked (who would go as red as a beetroot) as well as all her friends.

Slightly more dangerous were the older young maidens of marrying age, who circled the room like sharks on the hunt. Lady Sìdhwen, the damsel who had danced the first dance with Arvain in the afternoon, was one of these. Each time Arvain dragged Penny up to dance, Lady Sìdhwen would watch them stroll past her with cold, hard stare.

The most unabashed of all (and amusing, depending on your point of view) were the widows. To be fair, it was only those who had long been widowed, or those who, if recently bereaved in the War, had thought theirs was no great loss. By late in the evening, when a little too much wine had been had, more than one would have to be practically peeled off an alarmed looking ellon by her friends, profusely apologetic as they dragged her out for some air.

Penny was having a sit down. It was still relatively early, with dusk only just having fallen outside, but already the long day was beginning to take its toll and she was not sure how much longer she would last. Give it an hour at most and she was likely to call it a night, she suspected.

Eleniel was trying to persuade Lindir to have a dance.

“I have just got a refill of wine, Eleniel. The dance after this one, I promise.”

Eleniel made an exasperated noise, and looked around to see who else might be free when she found herself surrounded by four Gondorian nobles who ‘just happened to have overheard’ and all offering their arms.

“Why, how very kind of you,” Eleniel said quietly, lowering her gaze shyly as she took the arm of the one nearest to her.

The young man she had chosen, probably no more than twenty-two if that, puffed out his chest with pride, and could not have had a wider grin on his face if he had tried. The remaining three looked most put out. One turned to Penny, but even as he opened his mouth she held her hand.

“I thank you, but no. I am sitting this one out.”

She smiled, he bowed his head and went on his way, passing by Halladan as he did so who was slowly making his way over to them.

“Not dancing, Pen-ii?”

“No, not for this tune, Halladan.”

“May I join you?”

“But of course.”

She shuffled over on the bench to make enough space for him. He sat rather heavily, keeping his bad leg stuck out in front of him, and then leant his stick up against the pillar next to him. Lindir handed him a cup and, producing a jug of wine from under the bench next to Penny, filled it for him.

Even as the music started up, Arvain appeared, backing away from a bevy of beauties, with his hands up.

“Ladies, ladies, I am most flattered, but I really must have a rest and some wine.”

“Oh, now, Lord Arvain, you are most unfair. I have been waiting an Age for a dance with you!”

“Now, Lady Sìdhwen, that is not quite true. I danced with you earlier in the evening, did I not?”

“Twice hardly counts, Lord Arvain,” she simpered. “Please? You would not refuse me, would you? Otherwise I shall have to dance with my brother again, and he is such a brute with his great feet. He has no finesse at all.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Not like you.”

Penny had to suppress a laugh. Lady Sìdhwen was using Westron, so Penny only understood the odd word, but even so it was still painfully obvious she was ladling it on in bucket loads. Subtle was clearly not a word in her vocabulary. Penny glanced up to see Lindir had turned away, with his hand to his mouth and he was just as on the edge of a fit of the giggles as she was.

“Who am I to refuse such a charming lady such as yourself?” Arvain bowed slightly, taking her hand in his and kissing it graciously. Lady Sìdhwen put on her best ‘demure’ expression as she allowed him to take her arm.

Penny pulled a face. Halladan laughed out loud, and Lindir choked into his wine.

“He is rather popular, is he not?” Penny smirked.

“He does his best to encourage it.”

“So I see,” sniggered Lindir. “Ai, the folly of youth.”

“Indeed.” Halladan chuckled.

“But he is older than I am, surely?”

“Only by a few years, Pen-ii.” Halladan replied.

“I take it he is not married?”

“No, indeed! If he were married and behaving in such a manner, he would have me to answer to for a start.” Halladan laughed. “No, there is no sweet young thing waiting for him in the North, so he can allow himself a dance or several with the fair maids of Gondor with impunity.”

Penny wondered if she had found the answer as to why Halladan was so reluctant to dance or be more jovial. “And you, Halladan? You have a wife?”

“Me? No, no.” He smiled. “There has been little time to think of such things up till now. Too much work to be done.”

“The Dúnedain do not marry as young as other mortals, Pen-ii. I am sure you know that.”

“Was it a foolish question? I do apologise…”

“Not at all, Pen-ii. After all Hirvell was betrothed, was he not, Halladan?”

There was a strained look about Halladan all of a sudden. “No. No, he never asked her, Lindir.”

“Oh. But I had thought…”

“No, he decided against it. Decided he would wait until after the War. He was concerned that if something should happen… that it would be a greater burden to her if they had made that commitment…” He fell silent, very obviously struggling to keep reign on his emotions. He coughed slightly. “Forgive me, I…”

“No need, my friend,” said Lindir quietly.

Halladan put down his cup.

“If you will excuse me, perhaps I will get some air.”

“Forgive me, Halladan, I did not mean to bring up a subject that was painful to you.”

“Do not concern yourself, Pen-ii.” He smiled gently at her, but she could see the depth of sadness in his eyes, his jaw tight. “A walk will do my leg a little good, that is all.” He was a convincing liar.

“Why not have a dance instead?” Lindir suggested.

Halladan blinked at him.

“After all, today is a day of celebration, and Pen-ii is unpartnered for the next dance since I have promised Eleniel and I am sure Arvain will not be free for a while judging from the determined look on Lady Sìdhwen’s face.”

“Oh, no, Lindir, I am sure Halladan would not wish…”

“Yes, why not, indeed?” Halladan seemed quite grateful for the opportunity to think about something else for a while. “If you could bear a lumbering, one-legged oaf, that is, Pen-ii…”

“You are hardly lumbering or one-legged!”

“Ah, but I may be an oaf?” Penny noticed the glitter of amusement in his eyes.

“Well, I sincerely doubt that you are, but I do not know you well enough as yet, Halladan.” She tried to keep a straight face but the hint of a smirk betrayed her.

“Well, then, let us get to know each other a little better.” He stood, and held out his hand. “This next dance should be a slow enough one that even I should be able to cope with.”

As Penny let him lead her towards the centre of the Hall, she felt rather pleased to have finally got him involved in it all, even if it had been Lindir’s suggestion. By the time he was standing opposite her, waiting for the dance to begin with Arvain on one side of him and Lindir on the other, his smile was more relaxed and less fraught than it had been earlier and that could only be a good thing as far as she was concerned.

It did not last.

As the evening wore on, and the wine flowed, so almost inevitably conversations turned in some quarters to toasting of lost friends and comrades. Long tales were told of daring escapades on the battlefield, and songs were sung of glory and death, of honour and blood spilled, how it had all been worth it no matter the cost. Gondor had won, the Enemy was laid low at last and the Shadow that had existed longer than any Gondorian could remember was gone.

Halladan started drinking rather heavily from that point onwards.

Penny was exhausted and really did not need Eleniel insisting she go to bed. She had already made her mind up she would go. She refused to be escorted.

“No, no, Rhimlath, it is only across the courtyard. I am more than capable!”

She waved goodnight to the hobbits - all four sat at one table with a large jug of mead being shared between them all - and weaved her way round the groups of people towards the doors.

“No, Halladan, enough is enough. I think you should call it a night.”

“Do not tell me what to do, Arvain!”

“Halladan, be reasonable!”

“I cannot bear this laughter and levity any longer! Get your hands off me! I have no desire to stay and do not need you pulling me out of the doors!”

People round them were looking their way. Arvain and Faelon shared a glance and, as if by silent, mutual agreement, took hold of Halladan by the elbows and steered him out of the doors.

“Let go of me!”

“But of course,” Arvain murmured. “Forgive me, brother, but people were starting to stare…”

“So let them stare! Do you think I care one jot what they may think? I am the son of Halbarad, a man who was worth ten of them or more!”

“Faelon? Arvain?” Penny was not sure she should interrupt.

It did have the desired effect, though. Halladan was worse for wear, perhaps, but not so far gone that he could not make some attempt to pull himself together.

“Ah, Pen-ii!” He straightened himself a little and coughed. “Are you leaving so early?”

“I am very tired, Halladan. A long day and I am still not up to full strength.”

“But of course, but of course. Please, allow us to escort you to your chambers.”

Penny was on the point of refusing but saw the slightly desperate look about Arvain and Faelon. They both seemed to think this would be a rather good idea, so she accepted. Faelon excused himself and headed back into the Hall, and the brothers walked her to her door.

It was a short walk in which little was said. Penny commented on how beautiful the stars were and the brothers murmured their agreement, but that was about it. Halladan seemed to be still glowering with anger, while Arvain was clearly wary that he may explode again at any moment judging from the glances he kept throwing in his brother’s direction. Penny felt slightly uncomfortable to be between the two of them, given she was in the middle of something not wholly understood and, very possibly, none of her business.

Soon enough they had reached the door to her lodgings where they bade her goodnight. Halladan was already a little way back up the street when Arvain turned back to Penny.

“You must forgive my brother. He has had a little too much wine and…”

“I understand, Arvain.”

“He finds it hard to accept his loss.”

“It is your loss also.”

Arvain nodded and opened his mouth to say something more, but Halladan had stopped and called his name. He bowed and said goodnight once more, turning to jog up the street to his brother, who held his hand up in farewell to Penny.

“We will see you on the morrow, Pen-ii,” Halladan called.

Penny held her hand up to them both by way of reply, before entering the house and heading up to her rooms. Even as she fell asleep that night, though, she wondered what more Arvain would have said to her if Halladan had not interrupted him.

As ever, my sincere thanks to all who take the time to review, let alone keep reading. I appreciate all your comments, advice, con crit and corrections - keep them coming.