Elrohir regarded the young woman across the fire from him thoughtfully. He'd ridden with the Dunedain for centuries. Some of their women were exquisite, elegant almost as the elven kind. Eirallyn was not such a one. She had the high-carved bone structure of the Lords of Men, but her countenance was more attractive than beautiful, her hands broad and capable, her frame tall and strong. She looked exactly like what she was-a woman who had taken up the sword. Until you looked into her eyes and saw a calm certainty more suited to those who counted their life-spans in centuries than a young woman with only twenty-nine years to her name.
“Lilleduil has spoken to you,” he said, intentionally switching from Sindarin to Quenya. “Are you interested in my proposal?”
Eirallyn's eyes lit in amusement before she answered in the same tongue. “Yes, I am. It sounds intriguing.”
“'Intriguing' is hardly the word I would use. Boring and terrifying by turns is more accurate, I think.”
“I thought that went without saying.” Eirallyn sipped her tea, smiling a little.
“It could be argued that your skills would better serve your people, say, in Annuminas. I should not like to be the cause of resentment.”
The young warrior gave him a look of polite disbelief. “Lord Elrohir, have the Dunedain ever failed in their fealty to the house of their forefather? If the House of Elrond requires anything of any of us, the wish simply needs be spoken and it will be fulfilled. If my service is something you require, then no one will have any trouble with that.” She paused to take another sip before continuing. “That being said, I had promised that I would deliver a letter for Lilleduil to Celondim, before visiting home. If it is still permitted that I go, a letter from you to our leaders would settle the matter beyond all doubt.”
Elrohir passed the bread and the butter pot across the fire and watched as she set down her cup, broke off a piece and slathered it liberally. “Oh, by all means go home. It may be some time before you see your family again once you return to Imladris. And I'll gladly write the letter. I may also have others for you to deliver in the region, if you would be so inclined.”
Eirallyn inclined her head. “I am entirely at your service, my lord.” She then took a big bite. Camp bread, but freshly baked, and her eyes crinkled in enjoyment as she ate.
Elrohir watched her, waiting until she had swallowed. “A question for you, if you will, Lady Eirallyn?” For the girl was a lady indeed, with one of the purer pedigrees among the Dunedain.
“Of course.”
“How is it that my grandmother wrote me a letter not long ago, saying that I ought to recruit you for my little endeavor, when as far as I know, you've never been to Lorien?”
It wasn't an accusation exactly, though many might have taken it as such. Eirallyn didn't turn a hair. Such self-possession boded well for a person who might be called upon to venture into hostile territory alone.
“Lady Galadriel spoke to me in a dream, once. It was one of the reasons I took up the sword,” came the calm response.
“What did she say?”
The young Ranger's eyes twinkled. “If she has not told you already, then I suggest you apply to her for that answer.”
Elrohir could hardly blame her for not violating a confidence given by his grandmother, when he knew better than to thwart Galadriel himself! “Lilleduil also speaks of a time when you saved her life, in a very odd sort of way. What can you tell me about that?”
“That if your desire to recruit me is based upon what you believe are special gifts, then you should reconsider, my lord.” Eirallyn's voice was respectfully firm. “I remember what happened between Lilleduil and myself, but I do not know if it was actually a dream or some sort of manifestation of the Dunedan healing gift, or something else entirely. I have not been able to make it happen again, although I have attempted to do so, trying various meditations before sleeping, and even a couple of draughts that are said to encourage such things.” She smiled. “It may have only manifested because I was in such desperate fear for Lilleduil's life. If a friend in peril is what it takes, I'd as soon it never manifested again! I have a touch of the foresight that my people possess, but that is all. You are recruiting a warrior, and nothing else.”
“And a scholar,” Elrohir contradicted her. “According to my father, one of the brightest he's seen in a long while. He says that you argue well and show great wisdom for one so young. And that you research with an open mind, without trying to skew your findings to a desired result.”
That finally shattered the self-possession, oddly enough. Surprised pleasure colored Eirallyn's cheeks. “It is very kind of Lord Elrond to say so,” she managed at last.
“You speak Westron, Sindarin, Quenya and even Black Speech. And now you are working on Rohirric.”
“I only read Black Speech, my lord. It is not permitted to be spoken in the Valley. I may pick up the spoken word as I encounter more of the Enemy.”
“And you have an interest in puzzles and ciphers-and some skill in working them through.”
Eirallyn nodded.
“Not to mention the hardihood your folk possess and the ability to travel swiftly across great distances. Yes, I definitely think I could use someone of your abilities.”
“Then I am most pleased to serve you, my lord.” Elrohir extended his hand to her, around the side of the fire, and she took it without hesitation, her grip warm and firm. He held the grip for a moment before releasing it and taking his tea back up again.
“Lilleduil,” he said without preamble. “What do you think? I will own that I am a bit worried.” His newest recruit regarded him soberly for a long moment, before responding in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. The fact that she was commenting upon a being who was over twenty times her age did not seem to concern her.
“She has gone back to being much like she was when I first met her. Wary, chary of getting close to anything other than her creatures. Many of her friends are leaving the Valley, or off on business of their own, and it troubles her. Fingolrin was very good for her. She was much more social, not only with him, but with everyone else when he was around.”
Nodding agreement, Elrohir sipped before answering. “So it seems to me as well. Your recommendation?”
“That you let her go to Celondim as quick as you may,” came the prompt response. “Loneliness is only part of the problem. She is desperately worried about Fingolrin, about his state of mind after leaving the Valley. If she sees him well-established and happy, I think that will settle her mind, allowing her to focus upon business when she returns.”
“And if he is not well-established and happy?”
“Then I suspect she may have the tools to deal with the situation better than anyone else could, my lord.” Eirallyn said dryly.
Chuckling, Elrohir said, “I daresay she does! Very well then, I will do what I can to hasten her departure.” He eyed Eirallyn. “You do not have some hardy Ranger you are visiting with on your visit home, do you?”
Her tone was drier yet when she answered. “Of course I do! My father and two of my three brothers are all hardy Rangers! And the youngest will be so as well, in a couple of years. But no lover or betrothed, if that is what you mean.”
“You are of an age when your people seek such attachments.”
“As my father is wont to remind me every time I visit, with the latest edition of his list of suitable mates clutched in hand!” She chuckled, then sobered. “But such is not my fate, at least not yet.” Her brow lifted. “I am assuming your question is not because you fear me shirking my duty because of a new romance.”
“Of course not. I simply needed a letters list.” Eirallyn nodded, seemingly untroubled at the thought of whom should be notified in the event of her death.
“Of course.” She inclined her head politely. Elrohir got to his feet.
“Finish your tea. I'll go see about that letter. When were you planning on leaving?”
“I had thought tomorrow morning, early. I could leave sooner, if necessary, but would rather not. I wanted to get Yaisaelwen's shoes checked first.”
“Tomorrow will more than suffice. Thank you, lady, for agreeing to work with me.”
“No thanks are necessary, my lord. You honor me far beyond any deserving.”
Elf-lord and Dunedan woman smiled at each other in perfect understanding and amity.
