•●•●•●•

The whole night long the storm raged against the shore, torrential rain mingling with the surging waves and their crash against the cliffs drowned out by the rolling thunder.

At first, I worried about Miarka, whose fear of storms once led to many consequences - but when I stole upstairs to the tiny guest room of the Fisherman's Inn, I realised I didn't need to. She'd evidently had a hard time falling asleep, because her pillows lay on the floor and the blankets wrapped tightly around her as she lay curled up, dead to the world.

I put my candle on a nearby chair for safety and tucked her up properly, arranging her into a more comfortable position by pulling the blankets up to her chin, propping her head carefully onto a pillow and gently stroking her hair out of her face so it spread all over the well-washed material.

In sleep, Miarka looked much younger than her age. Always, even as a little babe, she would have an angelic air about her. Long after her hair was out of the way I continued to run my hands along her face, perched carefully on the edge of the bed. I hummed softly to her - and she murmured something back, fingers twitching, as though she was singing along in her dreams. I watched her sleep for a long time, until my candle went out - it was oddly calming.

All of a sudden a particularly loud crash of thunder made even me jump, the lightning that followed lighting the room with an eerie blue glow for a fraction of a second. I glanced anxiously down - but still Miarka did not wake. She had slept very little recently, in her grief for Grandmother.

I sighed, and lay down beside her, eyes already shutting.

•●•●•●•

In the morning the storm had dissolved into the air and the sky was a delicate blue, a brisk wind still whipping my hair up, though nothing compared to the gale of last night. When I reached the end of the down and looked out to the bay, the sea was not calm exactly - it danced about merrily and waves crashed against the cliffs still - but a little squadron of fishing boats limped out without too much difficulty.

Malbeth made that face again when he saw me - eyes widening slightly and trying in vain to stem his amazement. It made me smile, and I rushed up to him, taking his hand.

"What's the plan for today?"

Malbeth tore his eyes from me with difficulty. "If you have no objection, I will take you to meet my mother and sisters."

"I have no objection, only -"

"What is it?"

I took hold of his arm properly and looked into his eyes, biting my lip. "We have to take Miarka with us," I said simply.

"Your sister? But of course - there is no way we can leave her behind," Malbeth said, evidently surprised I even felt the need to ask. "She will always have a home with us."

A weight the size of a Mûmak lifted from my shoulders, and my knees nearly buckled. To stay upright I flung my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his, having to stand almost on the very tips of my toes. Luckily the worn leather of my boots took the blow

"Oh, thank you, thank you, I love you! I will fetch her now! And I will get changed into something more suitable - I made Miarka and I some new clothes just for an occasion like this. Give me two minutes! Oh, I love you!" I laughed at Malbeth, still reeling from the kiss, and dashed off.

In actual fact Miarka was still asleep, but I was so elated I didn't care and burst into the room, dancing around and pulling our new dresses out of the saddlebags. They were a little creased from being packed in so tightly, but that couldn't be helped.

By the time Miarka had roused herself, disgruntled and muttering mutiny, I was already dressed.

In the time after Grandmother's death, I'd made Miarka and I new dresses - as I told Malbeth - for just such an occasion.

Mine was blue. A light cornflour-blue satin, like a cloudless spring sky, devoid of embroidery but with a narrow strip of silver, reminiscent of a belt, across the waist. The sleeves were long and full, the collar high and lacy. It was perhaps not as magnificent as my lilac ballgown, as next to that is was plain in comparison. But I'd used lots of material so it draped softly around my ankles, and it felt just the same. Strong, unnecessarily complicated stitching took the place of embroidery - instead of a queen, I felt like a proper lady, totally dignified. I rather spoiled the look by grinning madly at my reflection.

Miarka's was yellow, made to a similar pattern but calf-length instead of knee-length. Fourteen years old though she was, she looked about eight, cheering up slightly from being dragged unceremoniously from sleep by spinning around in her new dress, tossing her hair.

"Why do they have to be so long?" She whined, pulling at the sleeves, though I knew she was secretly thrilled with her new frock.

"That is the way, here in Gondor," I replied patiently, patting her hair in place as we looked at our reflection in the mirror. "It can get quite cold here, you know, and it is only spring.

"Miarka, today we meet with Malbeth's family. Here it is the custom for the two families to meet before the wedding - as unconventional as this wedding will probably be - certain traditions must be observed."

Miarka made to interrupt, but I went on hastily.

"You are my only family, dear sister. So please, please, behave yourself. I have a feeling - though Lord Medlithor is the kindest old fellow I've met for a while - it might be difficult to win the others over as easily."

I was so suddenly in earnest that Miarka took my hand.

"I will behave, I promise," she said gravely, mimicking my earnest voice - and I knew, though she grinned and winked, and I glared in mock-anger and swatted at her head, that she meant what she said.

•●•●•●•

"About my mother," Malbeth began as we walked through the streets of Pelargir, leading the horses, Miarka lagging behind and trying to sneak up to seagulls.

"This is hers, yes?" I remembered, fiddling with my ring.

"No! It is my gift to you, it is yours now." Malbeth assured me confidently. "But about my mother...."

"If she disapproves of a Haradrim daughter-in-law she would not have given me the ring," I decided.

"It's not that. You see...." Malbeth hesitated again.

"Mother is generally as decent and understanding as Father - the kindest lady in Pelargir - but her parents and grandparents were all killed during the War of the Ring."

"I expected as much."

"No, no, I didn't mean to say it that way.... Mother is trying very hard to reform her beliefs, I swear. She was very young when it happened, only newly wed, and never truly got over it. When I first told my family - I'd met a Haradrim girl - she took it about as well as you would expect. The alliance between Gondor and Harad she bore with a stiff upper lip, but I think she was sure your people would have nothing to do with her household at least. Father was as kind and understanding as ever, the girls didn't care much but made my life hell for the rest of my week off -"

"That's what sisters are for," I interrupted ruefully, glancing over at my shoulder to watch Miarka frightening birds, completely ignoring the stares. She was fearless.

"But Mother would not speak to me for a long time. Eventually Father and I talked her out of her mood, but she was still cold. So every time I came home I would talk of you. I would tell my mother how determined, passionate, selfless, innovative and cheerful you were, I showed her the cloak you made me, I told her how we met up early every morning to chat. I could sense her thawing toward you, but her principles held her back. I tell you, Jeddah, it took some persuading for her to give me the ring. I don't think she believed I loved you as much as I assured her I did."

I managed to whisper something about how he was brave enough to stand up to his mothers, fighting tears. The day was, frankly, emotional enough already.

Malbeth shrugged. "It wasn't hard to speak the truth, though my sisters teased me to the point of intolerance. But after a while I didn't care. You are more important - and you are not expected today, so we can avoid turning this visit into half a state affair."

"Have I mentioned how much I love -"

"We're here," Malbeth said cut me off, smiling.

Towards the town centre the houses grew bigger and more lavish, and this was the biggest, most elegant of the lot, with many chimneys towering on the dark slate roof and huge, open windows with iron lattice across the top half. A stable block extended out the back, and the kitchen - though attached to the main house - was a separate building, with doors leading into the stables, steam frosting the windows and billowing through the separate chimney. Though as big as a palace from a Haradrim perspective, it was a lot less intimidating than most of the townhouses in Minas Tirith, though I heard Miarka gasp audibly behind us.

"What do you think?" Malbeth said, endeavouring to hide the tremor in his voice.

"It's beautiful! Not nearly as grand and haughty as those houses in Minas Tirith. This house does not look down on me," I decided. "It looks much friendlier."

Malbeth grinned, both amused and relieved.

"Welcome back, my lord," piped a little stable lad cheerfully, rushing out  from a side door, already holding his hand out for the reins.

He did a double take on seeing me, pale eyes widening in excitement, running a hand through his long red hair. "My lady! Everyone's been so looking forward to seeing you - you're as pretty as Lord Malbeth said -"

"Yes, thank you, Caranthor," Malbeth said loudly. He took our horses, looking at me the whole time - he looked younger than Miarka even and  beamed all over his face when I winked.

"That boy," Malbeth muttered, red in the face and swinging open the front door with practised ease, "Is too talkative for his own good."

The entrance hall was bigger than my whole cottage twice over, and a grand carved staircase of some dark, expensive-looking timber led to the first floor at the back. The floor was polished with something that smelled slightly sharp - beeswax, probably. There were three huge windows total, two either side of the door and one at the back, along the staircase, with proper lace curtains that let the sun stream in and reflect off the polished floor. Bowls of seasonal flowers stood on the windowsills. During the day there was no need for the lamps that hung between doors, and so they remained unlit. Small tapestries and embroidered cloths were displayed in walls.

I was speechless, but Miarka was not.

"By the Stars, Jeddah, how rich is your soldier?" She gasped, in the Haradrim language. Only now did I realise this might present a problem.

"What did she say?" Malbeth asked.

"What did he say?" Miarka wanted to know.

"She says she likes it," I told Malbeth, paraphrasing by quite a lot. Turning to Miarka, I switched to my first language. "The house belongs to his parents, silly girl. Besides - what have I told you? Behave, speak only when I tell you to and for goodness' sake don't do anything stupid. You promised."

She nodded, still transfixed by the huge windows.

Malbeth grinned at our interaction, but winced when a new voice cut through the air.

"Malbeth? Is that you? I though I told you to come home by nightfall, you ought to -" A tall lady hurried down the stairs, stopping abruptly just at the window, which illuminated her soft grey hair and the dainty silver earrings she'd been arranging. She bit her lip, realised it, and stood up a little straighter.

"Mother," Malbeth announced loudly, though I detected a similar waver of confidence as when he'd asked me what I thought of the house. "This is my promised wife, Jeddah of Harmindon. Jeddah, meet my mother, Lady Earine of Pelargir."

I smiled serenely, refusing to be intimidated, shoving Miarka behind my back.

The Lady Earine hesitated a moment, and swept down the remaining stairs. She was more beautiful than I'd imagined, the lines around her eyes more tired than sharp. She stooped to kiss my cheek - Malbeth stiffened beside me, but relaxed again.

"You're very welcome to my home, dear. But where is your family?"

I pulled Miarka out from behind me. "This is my sister, Miarka. Say hello."

Miarka put her hand to her face and held it out in traditional Haradrim salute - and remembered just a fraction too late to curtsey instead, and nearly tripped herself up. I sensed Malbeth smile behind me.

"She's very welcome, dear - but where is the rest of your family?"

Lady Earine's face was only politely cautious, and I felt another rush of love for Malbeth - he hadn't told her my confidences, only his own opinions. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Miarka and I have no other family," I said frankly. "Both our parents have long since passed to the Ancestors and our Grandmother passed on only a month ago. We've had to live through some difficult times, I'm afraid."

"That's putting it mildly," Malbeth muttered, loud enough only for me to hear. Lady Earine was frozen.

" - So you understand, my lady, why I must take care of my little sister even though I met a man from a different country whose language I can only just comprehend that I love with all my heart. I am used to being looked down on all my life, but both Lady Túrien and I, we sat an example and show that our people can mingle and are not so different after all."

Lady Earine let out a deep breath - Malbeth was still holding his.

"That was well said, dear." She bit her lip again, and smiled more genuinely, though she hesitated a little. "I expect my husband and daughters home by this evening, and we can all have dinner together then. I'd -" she paused again - "I'd like to know you, dear."

She swept by, patting Miarka's curls affectionately. Malbeth laughed out loud with relief.

"Oh, Jeddah -"

We turned.

"That's a lovely dress, dear. You must have go to a very talented seamstress." Lady Earine smiled once more, and closed the door behind her.

•●•●•●•