•●•●•●•

The sea - it changes you. It heightens your senses, helps you to breathe more clearly, see more sharply, hear the distant cries of the gulls over the crashing of the waves.

Even from Pelargir, Miarka and I could tell we were near the sea, if the huge sailing boats and fishing trawlers on the Anduin weren't already a clue. I marvelled at those ships - the amount of material used in those sails was tremendous. I'd thought the sheet of purple silk I'd used  sewing the awning over my old stall in Harmindon huge, but these sails were made of a thick canvas stretching for seemingly hundreds of yards into the sky. I would have loved to see the size of the needle that could oenetrate such thick canvas.

We didn't linger long in Pelargir, and rode along the bank of the Anduin as planned, until we reached the sea. There was a wide road, made of dry, pressed earth, that we chased each other on - my equestrian skills were becoming more pronounced as the days went on.

The wind picked up, coming from what seemed like every direction at once. Miarka's hair - so carefully arranged - went tumbling down her shoulders, and tossed about her head with every changing wind so that she could barely see through a mass of tangles most of the time. I laughed at her riding one-handed, clawing her hair out of her face. I had the good sense to tie a shawl around mine, so tightly that not a strand escaped.

I licked my lips, dry from the wind - and tasted salt.

I looked to the horizon - and saw that it wasn't there.

Miarka came cantering up behind me, trying in vain to twist her hair into a knot - and stopped beside me.

"I can't see the other side!" She shrieked over the wind, astonished.

I'd closed my eyes, taking deep breaths of the chilly, salty sea air - but at Miarka's call I opened them again.

The sea was so utterly immense it was unbelievable. We were halted at the top of a small cliff, and the road went on to the right, downhill to a tiny fishing village where the river met the sea, but to our left was a tiny, sandy path, winding its way down straight to the water's edge. All around us was a strange, knee-high grass, swishing and rippling in the wind, and strange birds - gulls - flew above our heads, screaming to one another or fishing over a bit of fish.

The actual water was so mesmerising that Miarka and I stared at it for so long our horses began to get impatient. It was a deep grey - reflecting the dirty-whiteness of the clouds - fading to blue in the distance where it mingled with the horizon, a neverending expanse of water - Miarka was right, there was no other side in sight. It swelled and heaved and fell again, tips of white foam appearing here and there where a wave broke. Some miles of cliff away, where it turned properly steep and jagged, the waves would crash up against the cliff and send a column of spray up higher than the cliff.

Miarka stood up in her stirrups.

"This is amazing!" She yelled over the wind, throwing out her arms.

I hesitated - and had to join in, after a moment. I couldn't just sit there and agree with quiet pleasure. Something infectious about this sheer immense, almost alive, body of water made you want to stand up and scream.

After a while, the horses began to get impatient again and Miarka and I began to freeze. The wind was chilly and some of the adrenaline had worn off, so we dismounted and made our way to the little fishing village in the relatively sheltered bay of the Anduin estuary.

"What - what do we do now?" Miarka asked, teeth chattering.

"Look - there's an inn. We can get warmed up there."

The inn had a large iron sign, painted bringt blue and swinging in the wind, declaring it the Fisherman's Inn, which was appropriate. There were also two brightly lit oil lamps swinging either side of the heavy door, the only light - apart from candles in firmly shut windows - in the whole winding street.

It was definitely evening - the sky was dark and grey and the sea only a black mass in the distance. It had seemed like only a few moments up on the cliff, but it was like the sea had put us into some kind of trance - we hadn't noticed several hours passing.

I led the way around to the stables on the other side and hammered on the door. I'd seen this done in Minas Tirith, where the stable boy took your horses before you went in to pay - but the boy that opened the door stared at us for a full minute. It was stating to drizzle, and, combined with the wind and tangy air, I was beginning to get rather irritated.

"Will you take our horses?" I asked impatiently.

The boy made no movement. I'd forgotten how strange we must look - I'd bet that no Haradrim had ever set foot in this place. I could hear Miarka whimpering with cold behind me.

"Take our horses, for all that is holy! Haven't you seen horses before?" I bellowed over the howling wind. The boy jumped, and took the reins, looking at me with wide eyes. I stamped back to the door of the inn, Miarka following like a little shadow.

"By the Golden Serpent, Jeddah! You were so brave! I mean if he was Haradrim I would have given him a ticking off he'd never forget but I didn't understand a word you said to him and -"

Miarka continued to babble, and I pushed the door open determinedly, not wanting to remain in the cold a second longer.

A wall of warmth slammed against us and I almost reeled back with its force. A crackling fire took the pride of place in the centre of the room and numerous others burned in braziers along the walls. The room was packed to the brim with all kinds of people - mostly men, though there were a few gnarled old women sitting at the bar, smoking their pipes with gusto. A young woman, almost younger than me, wiped glasses rather listlessly the bar with a forlorn expression, and there was a distinct smell of fish and ale and pipe-smoke - two which did not go well together. I knew them from my time in Minas Tirith alone and could tell Miarka was wrinkling her nose behind me.

One of the old men in the corner was playing something lively on a rather battered-looking fiddle, but the cheerful noise died away as Miarka and I entered. Everyone stopped their hushed chat and turned to stare at us.

I slammed to door shut and went over to the bar, trying in vain to glare at everyone at once. Miarka kept close to me anxiously, like she had done as a little girl.

Gradually the chatter started up again, much to my relief, though it was more hushed than before and I could tell the subject of their conversations. The girl behind the bar came over to us, curious.

"Good evening," I began, but she interrupted me.

"I'm not sure this is the right place for children," she whispered slowly, enunciating every word and pretending I hadn't just greeted her in fluent Westron.

That did it.

"I happen to be two-and-twenty years old," I drawled, in the same patronising voice. "By Haradrim standards I have been of age for four years. My sister here is under my protection. Give us some food and we'll sit nicely in the corner, don't you worry. I can pay."

I tipped some coins onto the counter. She looked rather taken aback - I could see her itching to ask where I'd got them - but decided against it and led us to the little windowed alcove I'd pointed to. Long bedraggled curtains almost obscured it from view. Eyes followed us the whole way, but I put my nose in the air and stalked off. Miarka was almost too intimidated to copy me properly, but she tried her best.

The fiddler struck up his music again after a while and the atmosphere returned more or less back to normal, though there were some curious glances thrown our way still.

"What is this?" Miarka muttered, eyeing her chicken and potatoes in disdain.

"As far as I am aware it seems to be chicken and potatoes," I remarked, chewing cautiously. It was overcooked for a start, and bland as ever - it should have been salted, at least - but I was so hungry by now I might have eaten a dead seagull.

"You can't be serious." Miarka still hadn't touched her food and was watching me eat with a slightly worried expression.

"Just because you like to saturate your chicken in salty rosemary and paprika doesn't mean you can't eat it plain," I pointed out with my mouth full. "Now eat. If these people get any more offended with us we'll probably be thrown out into that storm."

It had begun to rain heavily against the little window behind us, and the wind was reaching a the force of a gale.

The door opened again and more men entered. Not much heed was paid to them, I noticed jealously - they were a patrol of soldiers, evidently sick of the weather and drawn to the warmth of the inn. They sat at the bar and began to flirt with the girl serving them- but one of them, tall and broad-shouldered, stood a little way aside, trailing behind his companions.

I could tell he was looking for someone - he looked out of the window, pushing his wet hair our of his face and fiddling with his sleeves. He then scanned over the crowd, and I ducked behind the curtain, heart pounding and thinking very quickly.

"Jeddah, are you listening to me?" Miarka whined.

"No," I said. "Look over there."

"What?"

"Look at those men over there. The ones that just came in."

"What about them?"

"See the one next to the window?"

"Yes.... Jeddah?"

I paid no heed and slipped off my seat, under the pretext of taking my empty plate to the counter.

I didn't try to blend into the crowd, as I might have of a different occasion. Many eyes followed me as I sauntered to the counter, among them the pair of a perfect serene blue I knew very well, suddenly widening as they caught sight of me. I ignored him and put my plate on the counter.

I called over the barmaid and asked loudly for lodgings. She looked at me like I had two heads, but agreed, and pointed out the door to the back stairs.

To taunt him even further, when I'd paid the bill I took off my ring - flicked it into the air - and caught it again, slipping it securely back on my finger. I then ducked behind the curtains, grinning like an idiot.

"Jeddah, what are you playing at?!"

"That's Malbeth," I twisted my ring feverishly as my mind raced.

"Really?" Miarka's anger vanished in an instant and she leaned forward eagerly to get a good look, but I pulled her back before she could put her head around the curtain.

"I've just asked that unfriendly barmaid for a room for the night," I said smoothly, swirling the last of the tea in the bottom of my mug. "It's getting very late, xwişka min, and you are but a little girl still. You need your rest."

Miarka's look of disappointment nearly made me laugh out loud.

"Now, leave, and fairly lively. First floor, third door on the left."

Miarka gave me one last look of utter loathing - a glare only she was capable of - and stalked away. I only smiled.

I barely had to wait ten seconds.

"It's a small world," Malbeth remarked in an offhand way, slipping into the alcove and making sure we were obscured from view.

"What does that mean?" I wanted to know, sliding along the bench until I was right beside him.

"It's a saying.... when you meet someone you know very well in the most unlikely of places..." I heard the smile in Malbeth's unasked question and ducked under his outstretched arm.

"Miarka and I took a detour. We wanted to see the sea - we just about missed the storm. What are you doing here?"

"Not a day went by when I didn't think of you," Malbeth began softly.

"When you left, there was something gone from my life that for a long time I hadn't realised was there. After what seemed like an age, Prince Eldarion gave me a few weeks off to go home to Pelargir, hoping to cheer me up - but I was worse than ever there, thinking of the dream I had of showing you my home. Then yesterday morning, one of Father's friends that knew you from the Harvest Feast reported seeing you leave the town. I went to investigate, but you'd left - along the only road I know leads this way."

"I didn't know!" I gasped, sitting up straight. "I would have gone to find you!"

"How would you know where to look?" Malbeth laughed.

"I would have gone to find you," I repeated, looking into his eyes properly for the first time. "I can't make a fancy speech like you - I'm out of practise speaking the Common Tongue, I'm afraid. But I missed you too - so much, it hurt my heart. I love you."

"As I love you," Malbeth whispered, taking hold of my hands and gently kissing my forehead.

•●•●•●•