If there was one thing that Aragorn and Eldarion were most alike in, it was their mutual resignation to politics. Father and son were entirely too much the sons of Dúnedain rangers to ever find the relentless back-and-forth over paper and power satisfying. Still, here they were, convened once again inside the Dome of the Sun for the summer meeting of Gondor's Great Council. 

A groan threatened to escape Eldarion, and he had to bite his tongue to keep it hidden. The topic at hand wasn't necessarily idle concerns, far from it in fact. Still, the two lords of Gondor currently standing at their seats had been at this for some time now. 

"-eroding the riverbanks of the Erui considerably, resulting in damage to both east and west riverbanks, as well as adversely affecting the fishing grounds further downstream at Tolfolas." 

Lord Findegil of Lossarnach was quick on the rebuttal. "Your complaints are noted, Lord Faltharan. However, they carry a good deal less weight when one considers that your city makes use of our sand extracts in all of your many glass windows."

"Windows that were installed ere my grandfather's generation! The current sand mining practices of Lossarnach threaten to ruin the entire southern leg of the Anduin!" Faltharan turned to Éowyn for support. "Surely you have seen that the river is running higher through Ithilien this year?"

"I have," admitted Éowyn. "The elves commented to Faramir and I only this past spring that the Anduin seemed unbalanced and ill at ease." 

Findegil blinked. "...Indeed. Feelings of the river aside, good lords and ladies of the council, surely we can agree that Lord Faltharan's motion to suspend Lossarnach's sand mining operations are ridiculous. A great many of our folk find their daily living from such economies!"

Another argument - the third that hour - broke out, leaving Eldarion somewhat free to meet his sister's eye. Túrien sat across the table next to Sufyan, be-decked from head to toe in full Haradrim finery. Sufyan of course forewent the head scarf today, out of respect for Gondorian customs when indoors. Túrien however wore not one but two colorful shawls, as well as a beaded corset, fire-orange vest, and heavy jewelry. Eldarion noticed that Túrien had also had her ears pierced since her last visit; matched rubies on tiny golden chains glittered above her shoulders. 

Túrien wrinkled her nose ever-so-slightly at Eldarion, and he understood her meaning. The lords of Gondor could carry on like this for hours without ever having accomplished anything in the end. Such meetings of the Great Council inevitably ran straight through the dinner hour and into the night, to the general detriment of everyone's temper (and negotiation skills). This could be a very long day indeed. 

"-personally see no alternative, save Lord Faltharan's preposterous assertion that we halt all mining, putting hundreds of Gondorians out of work and depriving Osgiliath's final reconstruction phase of its glass orders." 

"Actually, Lord Findegil, I may have an alternative suggestion." 

All heads turned as Túrien rose from her seat. Aragorn, in his customary place at the head of the table, smothered a smile. The lords of Gondor were still unaccustomed to Túrien and her Haradrim husband, even though it had been three years since that marriage. Harmindon and the tutelage its ramyah had only made the young princess more assertive and authoritative over the years. Many frowned as Túrien let the silence hang, bringing everyone's attention to rest upon her. 

"It seems to me," Túrien began unhurriedly "that the chief concern is one of over-harvesting, rather than the actual nature of the harvest in the first place. It is fact, after all, that Lossarnach has been reaping sand from Gondor's riverbanks for generations. What has changed, Lord Findegil?" 

Findegil chewed his mustache, uncertain thus far if Túrien was supporting him or Lord Faltharan in the matter. "Gondor's cities and towns have grown much since the turning of the Fourth Age, Your Highness. Many who could not afford glass for their businesses and homes can now do so. There is also the final reconstructions to consider, especially with regards to our fair city of Osgiliath. Lossarnach is merely rising to meet the demand of a thriving nation." 

"Such a rising will see the Anduin burst its banks and flood half of Belfalas and Ithilien within the decade," protested Faltharan. 

"I'm afraid I must agree with Lord Faltharan in this," said Éowyn. She leaned forward in her seat to address Sufyan. "Harad has a stake in this matter too. The Ethir Anduin edges right up against the northern border of Harondor."

Again, a chorus of thinly veiled mutters went up around the table. Although Aragorn - with his immense popularity and general respect - had been able to push through the peaceful transfer of the lands which had once been titled South Gondor, many still resented the treaty between Gondor and Harad. If Sufyan felt the sudden rise in tension around the table though, he gave no sign. 

"In that regard, the people of Harondor have no wish to see the banks of the Anduin damaged either. Such would make the crossing of Mûmakil unnecessarily difficult, as well as risk flooding good farmland. It seems our ramyahani has a suggestion though?"

Túrien, who had remained standing throughout, nodded at Sufyan. "Indeed I do. As I was saying, lords and ladies of Gondor, there may be a solution to the over-reaching of Lossarnach's sand mining. One province cannot supply the entirety of Gondor with enough sand for glass-making. Therefore I remind this council that Harad has enough sand to keep all of Middle-Earth in glass for a thousand years. I would be happy to carry an invitation to trade back to Ramyah Sawda when I return to Harmindon." 

The muttering rising from the council grew to an angry buzz. "We have quite enough of our economy engaged in trade with the Haradrim already," said Lord Duinhir tartly. "Any more and we may as well discuss selling Ithilien to them as well." 

"Mind your tongue, Duinhir," said Elphir warningly from beside Eldarion. 

"That is quite alright, Lord Elphir," said Túrien calmly. Sufyan's heavy brows were drawn together tightly in a scowl though, and Eldarion was reminded of Na'Man. A little war paint and the resemblance would be uncanny. "It was merely a suggestion. I'm certain that Lord Faltharan and Lord Findegil are more than capable of coming up with another solution, one which allows us to keep pace with the rising demand for glass while preserving the integrity of the Anduin." 

OoOoO

Five hours and two deferrals later, and still the Great Council had yet to satisfactorily resolve the matter of Lossarnach's sand mining. All other items on the agenda had been dealt with, and dinner was long overdue. Finally Lord Findegil wearily looked to Aragorn.

"Your Grace, if I might request a third deferral of this issue? Perhaps the solution will become clear if we were to approach the topic on another day..."

Aragorn, however, was of a similar mind to Túrien on the matter. A leap of faith though it might be to enhance even further their trading relationship with Harad, the Anduin river was not a price he was willing to pay. The look that passed between Eldarion and his father confirmed as much. No doubt Arwen would agree as well, if she were here. Therefore Eldarion did not protest the further lengthening of their collective agony when Aragorn smiled rather smugly and shook his head.

"I am afraid not, Lord Findegil. This matter has been drawn out entirely too long already, and I would have it resolved before we adjourn this council." 

Eldarion stretched his cramping legs beneath the table. By the looks on Findegil and Faltharan's faces, they did not want to be here any longer either. If only politics could be contracted out to many smaller councils, this would be far less burdensome a task. 

That was when Eldarion was struck with an idea. 

"My lords...ladies." Eldarion rose to his feet, ignoring the pins and needles in his thighs after several hours in one seat. "Perhaps there is a way in which Lossarnach might retain its royal contract to supply the realm, while also allowing for an alternate supplier - such as Harad - to keep the demand manageable." 

"Do tell," snapped Faltharan, who then remembered whom he was addressing and added much more politely "Your Grace." 

Eldarion hurried to finish his thought before either Aragorn or Túrien lost their temper; at this point it was difficult to tell who might get there first. "Lossarnach continues to supply all of the existing customers who have an account with their sand mines. All new customers - new settlements, revitalization projects, and the like - put their accounts up to be bid upon by both Gondorian and Haradrim suppliers. Harad will likely seek to secure these surplus orders, thus allowing Lossarnach to return to their previous, sustainable levels of sand harvesting. All will receive the sand they require, and Lossarnach continues to be Gondor's main supplier, while allowing for Harad to deal directly with any new projects." 

All seated around the table watched Faltharan and Findegil for their reactions. The sun had begun to set outside, and overhead the Dome of the Sun - itself enhanced by many panes of colored glass - cast a rose-gold hue across the table. They had been in council since midday, and just about everyone was eager to have done with the matter. 

"Lossarnach is capable of meeting the new orders..." Findegil began to protest.

"But not without compromising the health and stability of the Anduin," interjected Éowyn. 

Silence reigned. A glance from Findegil toward Aragorn confirmed that the king's patience for Lossarnach's obstinance was indeed wearing thin. A sigh of relief went up around the room when Findegil threw up his arms in defeat. 

"Oh very well! Take your offer of trade back to Harmindon with you, Princess. But I would ask you this...are you Gondor's ambassador to Harad, or Harad's ambassador to Gondor? There is a difference." 

"I am both," replied Túrien without missing a beat. "I'm sure Sawda and the other ramyahs will be very keen to discuss the particulars of such a contracting arrangement between our two nations. By your leave, Father, I will draft up an offer first thing tomorrow?" 

"Tomorrow," nodded Aragorn. "For tonight though, I think we have all had our fill of politics." Standing, he waved the rest of the council to its feet. "By my authority as king, I declare the midsummer meeting of the Great Council adjourned." 

"And thank the Valar for it!" exclaimed Elphir, prompting a rush of exhausted laughter from more than a few lords and ladies. 

One by one or in small groups, the lords of Gondor began to file from the Dome. There would be dinner in the Merethrond that evening, and all were eager to be on their way after such an arduous session. Eldarion and Túrien went to Aragorn's side though, while Éowyn and Sufyan greeted one another a short distance away. 

"You did well today, both of you." Aragorn's smile betrayed a new set of creases at the corners of his eyes. "Túrien, you believe the ramyahs will be well-disposed toward such an invitation?" 

Túrien straightened her shawls, rumpled from many long hours seated. It was almost a comical gesture from her, considering how little she had cared for the presentation of her gowns during her upbringing in Minas Tirith. Now though, Túrien always kept her silken finery in perfect order, as well as her sleekly oiled and plaited hair. 

"Oh yes, without a doubt, Adar. They will probably expect to send glass merchants to Minas Tirith and Osgiliath though," she warned. 

"How have the most recent of our trades-folk been settling in?" asked Sufyan, suddenly alert to the conversation. 

Eldarion chose his words carefully, not wanting to upset his brother-in-law. "Well enough. There have been few incidents, but some are finding Minas Tirith a difficult market to break into." 

"Unsurprising," said Túrien darkly. 

"Perhaps you ought to go and talk to your folk in person?" Éowyn suggested. "There are several Haradrim with regular shops set up in the Craftsmen's Tier. They would surely be glad of a personal visit from their next chieftain and ramyah." 

"I'll go with you," Eldarion was quick to offer. It wasn't that he feared for Túrien and Sufyan's safety on the streets of Minas Tirith, clad so conspicuously in Haradrim garb as they were. His presence in the uniform of a Captain of Gondor could only be a good thing though. 

Túrien nodded. "Why don't we go first thing in the morning? While the merchants are still opening shop and not busy with customers?" A sudden, impish grin changed Túrien's thoughtful expression to one that Eldarion recognized better from their youth. "Besides, I daresay dinner will be half-eaten by the time we get to it now. I have no wish to fight Lord Findegil over appetizers and exports."

Sufyan's stomach growled almost on cue. "Agreed! To dinner then?"

Laughing, Túrien, Sufyan, and Eldarion left for the Merethrond, there to join the other lords and ladies awaiting their king's arrival. Aragorn looked to Éowyn and sighed. 

"If only all could be as quick to put aside old grudges as our young folk. To see those three together, one would never imagine that Sufyan's father and I fought as enemies at Pelennor Fields."

Éowyn reached across to close the heavy book in which Aragorn had been making notes during the council. Aragorn caught the scent of lilacs and moss on the White Lady of Ithilien...so very different from the musk of leather and despair that had clung to her throughout the War of the Ring. When she smiled at Aragorn though, there was just the slightest edge of wistfulness to her gaze.

"Memories of evil days are hard to dispel, even in an age of peace. I fear that Harad and Gondor will take many generations to grow together into our new friendship. Still..." Éowyn cocked her head as the sound of Túrien's raucous laughter echoed back to them "...every future has to begin somewhere." 

"And are you satisfied with the future that you have found, Éowyn?" asked Aragorn tentatively. They both knew and respected well the boundaries of their friendship, established so long ago after that night at Dunharrow. Still, Aragorn felt he must ask. 

To his gladness and relief, Éowyn chuckled. Looping her arm through his, she pulled him away from the council table toward the door. 

"Enough lingering and wondering! Our lives are unfolding exactly as they were meant to, of that I have complete faith. If we keep everyone waiting on their meal any longer though, I cannot vouch for our continued good health and fortune in the immediate future. Take me to dinner!"

"As you command, Shieldmaiden," said Aragorn, laughing despite the long day they had just endured. Together, the two friends put both the past and the empty council chamber behind them once more. 

OoOoO

The next morning as arranged, Eldarion, Túrien, and Sufyan met in the Court of the Fountain at daybreak. Eldarion wore his uniform, but forewent the helmet and embossed pauldrons as befitting a guard off-duty. Sufyan and Túrien meanwhile were just as colourful as the day before; Sufyan in a heavily embroidered vest of bright red cotton, and Túrien in a gown and wrapped shawl of sea-green. The three of them made a noteworthy trio as they set out down into the city, and unsurprisingly they felt the weight of many eyes upon their shoulders. It was a condition they were all used to, having been born and bred the children of kings and queens, ramyahs and chieftains. 

They found the Third Circle already bustling in the glow of an early summer sunrise when they arrived. Shopkeepers opened windows, swept thresholds, and laid out wares on tables in front of their stores. Other, more transient merchants set up stalls, wagons, and carts in the main squares, creating bustling hubs of business for the casual shopper to wander through. 

"Do you know where Yetka, the bead-maker is?" Túrien asked Eldarion. 

It wasn't hard to remember where a Haradrim had set up shop in the marketplace of Minas Tirith. Eldarion led the way through the crowd to a far corner of the Craftsmen's Tier; hardly a desirable spot, but more affordable to lease for a new arrival. There they found Yetka, an old woman from Abrakhân with a bowed back and nimble fingers, skilled in shaping and painting clay beads. 

As they approached, Yetka and her children looked up uncertainly. At first they saw only the uniform of a Gondorian soldier, and their faces pinched with unease. Then Yetka saw Sufyan and Túrien, and her wrinkled old face brightened. 

"Ah! Hûn bi xêr hatin, axa û birayê min ê hêja!" she exclaimed. 

"Roj baş ji te re, madî," answered Túrien, leaving Eldarion utterly in the dark as to their exchange. 

Sufyan noticed and quickly translated for Eldarion. "Yetka greets us, and is glad to see us here. Túrien returns her sentiments." 

"Karsaziyek çawa ye?" asked Túrien. 

"Now she asks after business, if all goes well," said Sufyan. 

As the conversation with Yetka and her children unfolded, it became clear that business was not good. Although the occasional young person dared to buy a handful of beads - mostly young girls looking to augment their appearance - by and large the Gondorian market-goers avoided Yetka's stall. Still, the old woman was quick to offer them all tea, even Eldarion (once Túrien and Sufyan had assured her that he was a friend) and they sat discussing the news from Harmindon and Harad for nearly an hour. 

"-but she says that last week, the wheels off her cart were stolen." Sufyan continued to translate for Eldarion's benefit. Seeing the look on Eldarion's face, Yetka was quick to add something else. "A meaningless prank, young people out to amuse themselves no doubt." 

"Prank or not, that will not be happening again. Not in this city," Eldarion declared vehemently. "I'll assign an extra pair of guards to patrol the Third Circle after dark, with instructions to keep an eye out for your lost cart wheels." 

As Túrien repeated Eldarion's words back to Yetka, Sufyan gave Eldarion an approving look. Yetka also granted Eldarion a tentative smile, and when they took their leave, she pressed a handful of beads on him. 

"Ji bo jinek taybetî."

"For a special lady," Túrien echoed, a teasing gleam in her eye as Eldarion blushed. 

Sufyan already had his coin purse open. "By that reasoning, I think I may need a few of those myself."

"As if I do not already have enough beads back in Harmindon..." Túrien swatted Sufyan's arm, but smiled with pleasure anyways when he bought an entire pouch of black and yellow beads from Yetka. The old bead-maker tried to refuse Sufyan's money, but when Túrien insisted she permitted him to buy the pouch, rather than simply gifting it to them. 

It was past mid-morning by the time they finally said their goodbyes to Yetka and her family. The sun climbed bright and warm in the sky, catching glints of minerals in the white stones of the city and making them sparkle. A light breeze kept the summer heat down though, and rustled in the leaves of the young trees lining the streets (gifts from Legolas and his colony during Minas Tirith's repairs). As they made their way down the now-crowded street in search of other Haradrim merchants in Minas Tirith, Túrien sidled up to Eldarion. 

"Thank you for supporting me in the council, by the way. Findegil and Faltharan would never have bought into my suggestion for sourcing sand from Harad if you hadn't come in with the idea of contract bidding." 

"Oh! No need to thank me for that, muinthel-nin. I would cheerfully die for you girls, you know that." 

Túrien snorted and rolled her kohl-lined eyes. "No need to make smug, grandiose statements. I wanted to thank you, and now I have." 

Eldarion was about to return Túrien's banter when someone brushed up against his shoulder in the crowd. 

"Your pardon, prince." 

Granted, Eldarion was about to say, when something about the way the other person had said 'prince' pricked at his memory. He knew that voice, as soft and smooth as smoke from a snuffed candle wick. He had heard it once before...from beneath a deep hooded cloak in the star-lit dark of the Sages' Tier. 

"Rhoss?" 

Spinning abruptly about, Eldarion scanned the faces of the crowd. A face caught his eye; smooth-shaven cheeks, refined features, and eyes as green as new spring leaves. The man smiled then, winked, and turned away. As suddenly as he had appeared, he seemed to simply disappear, melting away into the bustle of the mid-morning market. 

"Rhoss!" Eldarion shouted, shouldering his way through the crowd. It was in vain though; Rhoss - or the man whom Eldarion suspected of being Rhoss - was gone. Eldarion turned and turned and turned on the spot, but could no longer even guess which way the stranger had gone. 

"Eldarion?"

Shaken from his search, Eldarion realized that Túrien and Sufyan had caught up to him. They stood watching him, puzzled. Sufyan had a hand resting on the serpent-shaped pommel of his kilij sword.

"Is everything alright?" asked Túrien. "You look like you've seen a ghost!" 

One last time, Eldarion cast his gaze across the faces of the crowd. Seeing nothing, he frowned. 

"I'm not entirely sure I haven't." 

OoOoO