•●•●•●•

"How long did the Council go on for, anyway? Surely it wasn't nearly this long in the winter."

Malbeth shrugged, trying to sit on his hands - but that made it worse, so he carefully took off his cloak, making sure the outside was against the jagged rock, and sat on that. Granted, our well was not the most comfortable of places, but if we tried meeting somewhere else, it seemed wrong for some reason.

"It's always longer in the summer, because there are more of them. Eldarion told me it went on for hours this time, and for days afterwards they have to attend individual meetings and sort out all their arguments and ideas with a fine-tooth comb. I guarantee you, some of them are still at it - Eldarion even had to go as far as Minas Ithil to let Lord Elboron know all about the proceedings, as he didn't like to leave Lady Eruthiawen in her condition. He's due back today, though."

"Why do you not take part?" I wanted to know, examining my ankle where I'd scraped it sitting down. This well was truly not built for sitting on. It was not well built.

"I am not a captain of the guard. Eldarion, Ohtar, Bergil, and Haleth and Ulfred of Rohan are among the few that are given that honour. An honour, if the council is in any way as mundane as Eldarion says it is, that I wouldn't like to be granted."

I stretched out my arms, allowing my body to soak in as much of the sun as it could. It could rain again any day but recently our beloved Golden Serpent was making more of an appearance than usual. It was warm, but not overly hot and humid - just perfect, really. Many people filled the streets, chatting and laughing and taking advantage of the lovely weather. Beyond the wall, the young Mûmak Gïdjls bellowed in content - if I closed my eyes, I might even be at home.

The familiar sound of the rumbling and creaking of the Great Gates opening disturbed my reverie.

"There's Eldarion. I have to go,I promised I'd take over his shift so that he can properly return to his family."

"But you have night shift tonight!"

"He doesn't know that," Malbeth smiled. "At least he shouldn't, this month the guard shifts are my responsibility. See you tomorrow, Jeddah."

I waved goodbye, knowing full well how hypocritical I would sound of I berated him for overworking.

I wandered back to my stall, wondering if Lady Túrien would come to see me in her time in Minas Tirith. I knew Amira told her about my illness the last time she was here, and had been very sympathetic, sending well wishes and greetings. It would be lovely to finally talk to her again, to tell her how well I was doing in my new life and to thank her - again - for this opportunity.

•●•●•●•

I woke rather suddenly, in the middle of the night.

This was strange - nowadays I was sleeping very well, and hardly ever woke up randomly. I rolled onto my back, annoyed, and stared at the darkened ceiling, breathing as deeply as I could to ease myself back into unconsciousness.

Then someone - or something - banged so loudly I sat up violently, head spinning and heart hammering so quickly it felt as though it would burst through my chest. It took me a moment to realise it was someone knocking on the door downstairs, and I sank back onto my soft pillows - heart still pounding from shock - and waited for my landlady to inevitably open it.

When the banging resumed I rolled out of bed, wrapped my shawl around my shoulders and went to my window that looked out over the street to see what the matter was.

All the street lamps were burning brightly, casting a yellow glow on my face that I saw reflected in the glass window. Other lights were lit too - many people, not just the soldiers on night duty, were in the streets, carrying oil lamps and candles and seeming in a great hurry. As the hammering resumed, I fumbled with the latch on my window, and tried to push it open.

Nothing happened.

I rammed my shoulder against the unlocked window, throwing my full weight against it. It flew open with such violence and such a painfully loud squeal I nearly unbalanced, and leaned against the wall to steady myself. I looked out, listening to the calls of panicking people and clanking of the armour of running soldiers and guards, and speculating about whether I was still dreaming.

"Oi, miss!"

I stuck my head out of the window, and looked directly at the doorstep beneath me. I did not recognise the soldier that was so bent on breaking in the poor front door at first - with an unwilling smile I remembered my old splintered front door in Harmindon, long burned for firewood, liable to break in at any touch with its rusted hinges and rotted timber. Then with a flash, I recognised the pompous voice of the person some metres below me.

"You?"

"You?!"

What had Malbeth once called him? Hallas? The rude young soldier who had insulted me and my language was  now trying to break into the only place in Minas Tirith I could call home.

"If this is not important, Hallas...."

"Forget it for now, we are on high alert and required to search every house, stable, shop, inn, anywhere the princess could be."

"The princess? What princess?" I called rather loudly, so as to be heard better over the din in the streets of search parties. Hallas took a few steps back so that he wouldn't have to crane his neck so sharply and yell in more comfort. I was genuinely confused, and listened hard.

"Princess Almárëa! She's missing, stolen from her bed, and I have to search your house!"

"I can assure you, Hallas, much as I worry for the safety of Princess Almárëa, there is little chance she has been taken to this shabby little boarding house," I shouted back, hiding well the shiver that went down my spine.

"What is all this terrible noise?"

Miss Derwin, the spinster who charged me ungodly amounts for this stuffy bedroom and refused to serve me breakfast unless I figuratively got down on my knees and begged and she happened to be in a generous mood, entered the room without knocking, still in her nightdress and -cap, a bed jacket hastily slung over her shoulders. As I gestured politely to the window so she could partake in some confused shouting of her own, she muttered something under her breath of which I only understood the word Haradrim, turned and went down to open the door like a sensible person would have.

I sat cross-legged on my bed, arranging my shawl so it was more decent, and glared at Hallas and the man he brought with him all the time they were in my room. The poor other man was blushed painfully the whole time, and bowed quickly when he left. Hallas on the other hand acted like I was invisible.

I went down to the kitchen when they'd left, and found Miss Derwin poking the fire with an uneasy expression.

"Do you think we should go out and help look for the princess?" I wondered aloud. Derwin shook her head, seemingly too distracted to be disapproving of my presence in her precious, dusty little kitchen.

"There's plenty out looking, here the racket they're making? We'll just have to hope the poor dear is found safe and well."

Silence for a moment.

"Well, I'm going out. Not to search, but to find out if there is any news. I'll tell you."

No reaction.

So I left, changing into my brown work dress and covering my hair as though I was dressing for work. It was strange to go out into the street and see people rushing about and talking feverishly with neighbours as though it was midday and not just dawn. It was later than I'd thought, as the sky behind miserable grey clouds was definitely lightening. As I walked through the slight drizzle, I resolved to ask Amira, whose home was on the next street.

Amira and her whole family were awake, and I was not the only one who'd come to find out what was going on - as Aman let me into their kitchen, it seemed as though most of the Haradrim population of Minas Tirith was gathered there, drinking hot coffee and exchanging news.

This was not unusual, actually. I was not the only friend of Amira and Qufar - they were so positive and cheerful, they naturally made friends of every acquaintance. Also, as their kitchen was massive compared to what most of us were used to, it was common to see another fellow countryman or woman when coming for a chat. Amira's kitchen was a meeting place of sorts, and currently it was stuffed. Old women occupied the actual chairs, Qufar and other young men or women sat on the table they'd pushed to the far wall, and most of the women were leaning against available wall or simply standing. More children than I could count at first glance were either hanging sleepily onto their parent's legs or chattering to their friends, warming their tiny fingers before the fire.

"One of the soldiers told me she's most likely still in the upper tiers, most of the search parties were sent out there -" from a hopeful Qufar.

"You're lucky, one of the soldiers to me to do something I didn't understand but it didn't sound particularly friendly -" interjected one of his more gloomy friends.

"Did you hear, the king himself is supposed to be out looking -" supplied a woman rather fond of gossip.

"That doesn't surprise me, have you seen how he dotes on his daughter -" I interjected.

"But why? Why was she taken? I don't understand.... who would do such a thing when we are trying so hard to make our world more peaceful?" This came from a tearful Yetka, stroking the hair of her youngest daughter.

Chatter and gossip and all kinds of theories filled the kitchen, in the comforting low tones of the Haradrim language we all knew so well and were relieved every time someone addressed us in it. More people arrived, more tea handed out, more time passed, and soon the sun was clearly rising, though still obscured by dirty white clouds and miserable drizzle. Every time someone new came along, they were bombarded with questions and queries, but somehow, although theories and confidence flowed freely, nobody seemed to know exactly what was going on.

Until Peros, a young man whom I'd had a long conversation with about why it was possible Princess Almárëa had been kidnapped for ransom and whether the king would pay it or fight, got up to leave - and in the doorway, almost ran headlong into our ramyah's son, Lady Túrien's husband, Sufyan himself.

Though everyone jumped up and saluted respectfully, gasps of horror echoes through the room.

How different he was to the young man who had knocked at my hovel to ask me to mend his bride's shawl! His hair - curling above his cheekbones- and clothes were wet with drizzle and sweat, his friendly brown eyes alert and red with sleeplessness, and his kilij was held alert in his hand, covered in blood. Yetka's little daughter began to cry, and her mother tried to hush her quickly. Sufyan noticed, and hurriedly hid it behind his back.

"My friends...."

Silence throughout the room as Sufyan took in every single scared face looking expectantly at him.

"Rest assured, Princess Almárëa and Prince Eldarion are - are safe."

Sighs of relief. Peros turned back to me, mouthing, Prince Eldarion? Sufyan stood up tall, steeling himself.

"My friends, we go to war come the dawn."

Sighs of relief quickly turned into gasps of horror again. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall, listening to cries of surprise and fear, Amira telling her sons in a strange, sharp voice to take the other children upstairs and wanting to leave this gathering and disappear back to my warm bed, forgetting this ever happened. Sufyan waited until all was quiet, and explained.

"Princess Almárëa was taken by Easterling fanatics who have gathered an army in Rhûn and plan to go to war on Minas Ithil. Luckily Eldarion - I mean Prince Eldarion - found her in time, and although there was... a fight... he told us it was planned a long time, and we, who have signed a treaty of alliance with Gondor, must and will go to the aid of Lord Elboron and the people of Minas Ithil along the armies of Gondor."

"The whole army?" I asked out loud, thinking suddenly of Malbeth.

"But, my lord -" Qufar hesitated, looking around the gathering and counting quickly - "There are seven of us men, eight, including yourself. What can we do?"

Sufyan's eyes suddenly glittered with a kind of desperate enthusiasm. "You have forgotten our biggest - I mean this literally - ally, Gïdjls. You all, I think, have experience with Mûmakil? Come, we will prepare Gïdjls for war, and though we do not have proper materials, we will do the best with what we can. This will be our chance to show the people of Gondor our bravery and loyalty - Túrien and I above all know how you have been misunderstood and even mistreated. My people, this is our chance! Are you with me?"

Of course they were with him.

Although most women remained to say their goodbyes or offer help with preparations, I didn't want to stay and hear every wife tell their husband tearfully the Golden Serpent shine on you, the blessing spoken to keep a loved one from harm,because I would have started to cry like the whole lot of them.

Instead, I ducked by Sufyan who still stood in the doorway, murmuring apologies, and took to my heels. I ran down the cobbled street, hanging tightlt to my flapping shawl. I knew where I was going, and was entirely out of breath with a raging stitch in my side by the time I reached the Court of Tarondor. Malbeth was waiting for me by the well, as out of breath and dishevelled as Sufyan had been.

"Jeddah -"

"I know!"

"You must -"

"I will -"

I laughed, rather hysterically, and tried to take some deep breaths. "What happened to Prince Eldarion? Sufyan said he and Almárëa were both found safe, but I thought only the princess was taken?"

Malbeth suddenly shuddered. "I'll tell you some other time, Jeddah, I don't think I can talk about it now. I gave my beautiful new cloak to Almárëa though, the poor girl was freezing. I hope you don't mind."

"Good gracious, I don't mind. I only hope she is well now."

"I'm sure she is. But Jeddah - I have to ride to Minas Ithil now, and I have to say goodbye."

"Goodbye, then. And don't die," I added. "I don't want you to die."

Malbeth wasn't surprised at my quaint speech anymore - I assumed he was getting used to them. But he did smile, and wave goodbye as he left for the stables, just as he had only twelve hours ago to meet Prince Eldarion.

"The Golden Serpent shine on you," I muttered unhappily.

•●•●•●•