Disclaimer: I don’t own them, and I’ll put them back when I’m done!

Author’s Note: It’s really hard writing a chapter like this in the POV of a child. Who wants to see an alternate, in our heroine’s POV?

Chapter Ten: In Which There is a Reunion

By the time Eldarion had returned to the palace, the lone oystercatcher had completely slipped his mind. It was not until late in the evening that he remembered to mention him to his mother, and to Seraphine.

“An oystercatcher? But those are birds, Elda,” Arwen said patiently.

Eldarion shook his head. “No, I mean a man, a man who catches oysters. With a rake and a bucket. Anyway, I invited him to the party. Father says we must associate with all walks of life,” he added as an afterthought.

“I’m sure he will be a great help to us, poor royals that we are,” Arwen replied with a grin. “Although he will likely be trying to hide his smile when he sees our bumbling efforts.”

*****

The day of the party, Imrahil and his guests walked down to the beach late in the afternoon. Besides the royal family, there were several of Imrahil’s own children and grandchildren present, and so it was a loud and joyful group that walked to the sea. There were already servants setting up a pavilion, large pots, and barrels for the oysters. Imrahil himself took a part in the preparation, rolling back his sleeves and directing people.

The food was not only oysters, but all manner of fish, including a rich fish stew that had a name so difficult to pronounce that Eldarion rather thought it sounded like a sneeze. There was hot bread to dip in it, and fresh fruit tartes, and lots of lemonade. The children ran about shrieking and playing and stuffing themselves, while the adults traded tales and gossip amongst themselves. And, of course, there were many trips into the sea, to drag at the sand with long handled rakes. The tide was up, so it was not easy, and Eldarion got rather wet as he attempted to help Prince Imrahil.

“Ah, well,” the old prince laughed as he hauled Eldarion out of the sea. “We did try. And now I could do with something to eat.”

It was as he was watching Imrahil’s son, Elphir, have a go at catching oysters, that Eldarion saw the man he’d met earlier in the week, Jacoby, approaching. He had wondered if the man would come, and so Eldarion was delighted, and ran on down the beach to him.

“You picked a bad time for catching oysters, lad,” the man said as Eldarion neared him. He was smiling, not unkindly. “But it appears you are having fun, any road.”

“Yes,” Eldarion said. “I’m glad you came. Come on, you can meet my family.”

Up close, Jacoby looked quite nervous, apprehensive for some reason. He had put on nicer clothes for the occasion, and he had the bearing of a nobleman. A hat shielded most of his face from the sun. Eldarion remembered how Jacoby had called himself ‘once noble, now humble’. Perhaps he came from the same war-torn area that Lady Seraphine did.

As if he had read Eldarion’s thoughts, Jacoby cleared his throat. “Lad, you said the other day that you knew a lady named Seraphine. Who is she?”

Eldarion looked up at him. “My friend, from Harad. She was a princess there, but she left because of a war and came to live in Gondor. Her family died. Are you all right?”

Jacoby had gone white to the lips. “Is she tall, with dark hair and beautiful eyes?” he asked in an oddly choked voice.

Eldarion shielded his eyes from the glare of the setting sun as he looked up at the man. “Yes, and she has a nice voice. Why, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, lad. Will you take me to her?” Jacoby asked. “Quickly. Please. I must know-” He broke off, passed a hand over his face. “Where is she?”

Eldarion grabbed the man’s hand. He had no idea what was going on, just that the man looked as though he needed to speak with Seraphine, and then sit down. Something was happening. “This way; come on.”

He led the way up to the white pavilion, all lit up in the darkening sky. There were people milling around, but he did not see Seraphine. But she was here somewhere; he had just seen her a few minutes before, drinking wine and talking to the Prince. There was Miriel; he could ask her.

“Miriel, run and find Lady Seraphine!” Eldarion called. “Quick, hurry!”

Miriel gave a wordless shout as she ran by, and dashed into the pavilion. Jacoby stopped at the tide line, seeming hesitant to go into the pavilion with all of the royals. Eldarion stood beside him as he twisted his hands together. He wanted desperately to ask Jacoby what was going on, but he felt rather that he should wait and see. A few minutes went by, and then Eldarion saw Lady Seraphine walk out of the pavilion. She was dressed all in shimmering blue and had a goblet of wine in one hand, her feet bare. She gazed at the man curiously, as though trying to remember where she had seen him before. It was hard to tell; they were standing with their backs to the setting sun.

“Eldarion, what is it? Miriel said you needed to see me?” she called as she approached.

“Well, this man knows you-”

Eldarion never got farther than that, for Jacoby suddenly stepped forward, took off his hat, and said in that same strange, choked voice, “Seraphine? My Seraphine?” And Seraphine screamed aloud and dropped her goblet in the sand as she flew forward into his arms. Jacoby caught her and swung her around to keep from falling, and they were both crying, but laughing too, and he kissed her then, hard.

“I thought you were dead,” Eldarion heard Jacoby whisper as he held Seraphine close.

She was touching his face, wiping the tears away, which was pointless. “They told me you were dead,” she replied. “Lost, in battle.”

“No,” Jacoby said. “No.”

Eldarion looked back at the pavilion, where a small crowd had gathered when they heard Seraphine’s scream. Arwen was there; Eldarion ran up to her.

“I think he’s her husband!” he whispered to her excitedly. “The one who was dead.”

Arwen nodded and turned to the crowd. “Go on now, everything is all right. It’s a reunion, that’s all. Give them some privacy.”

The crowd dispersed, and Arwen walked down to the Haradric couple, who were still wrapped in each other’s arms, the sea lapping around their feet, utterly oblivious.

“Seraphine,” she said, smiling. “Take your man back to the palace. I will make your excuses.”

Seraphine managed to pull herself away from Jacoby long enough to smile a smile of devastating joy at Arwen. “Yes, my queen. Thank you.”

Eldarion and Miriel stood with their mother and watched as Seraphine and Jacoby walked away up the beach, arms tight around each other’s waists, heads together. And when they were out of sight, Arwen put her arms around the shoulders of her two oldest children and led them back into the pavilion.

TBC