Scions of the Third Age

Elanor watched Eldarion with unfeigned awe through most of their flight back towards Fornost. The young prince tried not to notice, but having her frank eyes on him rather unnerved him, who was more than used to being regarded.

“Is something amiss, Mistress?” he finally asked when he could stand it no longer.

“Nothing at all, Your Highness,” she answered shyly. “Why do you ask?”

“Well… I…” he stammered, “you… seem to watching me a great deal, and I…”

The hobbit lass was guileless as she answered, “To be honest, I have never seen a prince before, Your Highness – and you seem to be a very handsome one at that. It is rather wonderful, is it not, when someone steps out of a faerie tale?”

Eldarion laughed lightly, though he was still embarrassed, “I wouldn’t know, Mistress. No one’s ever told me a faerie tale. I don’t suppose you would oblige me with one while we ride?”

Now there was nothing Elanor liked so much as a good story and she knew a great many of them. She regaled Eldarion with one tale after the other until she was surprised to find them riding up the road to Queenie’s Inn once more.

“We’re back already,” she murmured. “It seems like we only left a few hours ago…”

Yet, a lot had occurred since their departure the several days prior. Where the courtyard was busy with patrons and townfolk even in the rain, the streets were nearly deserted now.

Queenie greeted them on the porch as usual as their group reined in together in front of the establishment, but she was alone except for two of her closest friends.

“Mae govannen, my prince!” the stately lady called to Eldarion. “Is everyone all right?”

“So it seems, my lady,” he answered. “But there were others who stayed behind to fight, so I know not what has happened to them.”

Tisbé replied quickly, “No need to worry for them, my prince. Elfhoster has just returned to tell us they fared well in the fight and are on their way now.”

The third woman who Elanor had not met before spoke up, “I was camping farther north and got wind of these orcs coming out of the mountains and was able to meet up with your friends. They sent me on ahead when the fighting was done.”

“Was anyone injured?” asked the prince.

The trio of women looked anxiously to one another, but Queenie merely answered, “Aye, but nothing that will not mend, Your Highness.” Then she brightened, “Come in and get settled then. There are few of us left, but we can still muster a hot meal and a warm bed. And you’ll be wanting to check on your young friend Fastred, I wager, little mistress.”

“Fastred? He’s still here then?” Elanor asked with some surprise.

“And fast on the mend, thanks to Saelind’s healing and your quick thinking,” she replied. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you again.”

Elanor felt a little rueful about Fastred as she had barely given him another thought once they had pulled out of Fornost. Still, she was glad to hear he was much better and it would feel right to be able to give him a proper farewell when she left Fornost this time.

Glancing down at his companion, the prince remarked, “There seems to be much about you to learn, Mistress. However, I must turn you over to Queenie’s care for now as I must check in with my men.”

Reluctantly, the lass let him set her on her feet on the porch and the proprietress and her friends scooted her inside to spoil her as they had done much before.


The mood of the inn no longer had the lively undercurrent of their previous visit. The shieldmaidens and the rangers talked much, but the tenseness that Elanor noticed when they first rode in prevailed throughout the evening.

The rest of the prince’s party arrived some hour or two later, but Elanor was upstairs bathing and missed their coming. Word was whispered around that there were injuries, but the lass could not find out whom and how badly no matter how hard she tried.

When she was allowed back downstairs, Elanor found Fastred also in the common room. He was sitting on a bench near the fire and looked to be waiting anxiously for her.

“Elli!” he rasped as he shot to his feet. “You’re all right!”

“I could say the same of you, Fastred,” she tried to laugh, “though your voice sounds a little worse for wear.”

“Oh, bother me! I’d heard a lady was hurt and I was afraid it was you!”

This news took Elanor back, though she recovered before her friend noticed much, “No, it wasn’t me. Prince Eldarion saved me from the warg-riders.”

“Warg-riders?! Really?!” Fastred’s boyish heart could not help but be impressed. “What do they look like? Are they really disgusting?”

“Well…” she faltered slightly, “I didn’t actually see one… but I heard them and that was scary enough!”

The lad gave her a somewhat disappointed look, but just then Eldarion entered the room and Elanor immediately had eyes for the prince alone. He gave her a breezy wave as he sat at a table with his ranger escort and she ducked her head shyly and blushed. Fastred looked from one to the other and quickly felt out of his depth.

“So that’s the prince, eh?” he murmured.

Elanor started to answer airily then got the drift of Fastred’s tone. “Yes, Fastred. That is His Highness, Prince Eldarion Telcontar.” She put her hands on her slim hips and arched an eyebrow at him, “Do you have a problem with that?”

“He’s just a boy,” Fastred could not help but say. “I thought he must be some paragon of virtue and strength the way people go on about him.” Then he shrugged, “I at least expected someone taller…”

Speechless, all Elanor could do was walk away from him. She thought of going up to her room to sulk, but the lass knew she would never find out what was going on if she hid up there. Instead, she joined her father’s table.

“What’s the matter, Elli?” asked Peregrine who did not miss much, though he pretended to be oblivious. “You and your beau have a spat?”

“What?!”

The gentlemen all laughed at her indignation and continued their conversation. Elanor kept her mouth shut so she might learn something at last.

“Winter came on too quickly this year,” Meriadoc was saying. “It’s driven the orcs out of the mountains betimes. Eldarion said his father has already headed for Gondor with the Queen and his court.”

“Elessar is not afraid of more warg attacks?” asked Folcred.

The mayor answered, “The retinue is large and well-guarded. There aren’t that many orcs out there to try to attack something that big. The few that came after us got wind of our passage by accident. We were lucky the King sent Eldarion on ahead to warn us."

“So, will you wait for the King and Queen here in Fornost then?” asked Folcred’s brother.

“Eldarion says not. Elessar wants us hobbits back safely in the Shire – and that includes you all. If your son is well enough to travel, Folcred, you must come with us. The King will then meet us at the bridge before they turn south to Gondor.”

“He’s hale enough now,” replied Fastred’s father. “We’ll be glad to travel with you all under the prince’s protection.”

“Ha!” erupted Elanor in Fastred’s general direction. The lad pointedly ignored her.


Elanor and Fastred spent the next two days circling each other warily. She made it perfectly clear that she preferred the prince’s company, and he was grateful that his vision of an elfmaid turned out to be “just a girl” after all.

Still, Fastred could not help but observe Eldarion to discover what endeared him so quickly to Elanor.

As he noted, Eldarion was still quite young – perhaps the same age as himself, though among the Big Folk the teen years were considered almost adulthood. His hair was a rich brown, cut long and somewhat shaggy, perhaps intentionally evoking the days when his father was still known as Strider.

It was obvious that his men loved and respected him, and when he spoke among them they listened as carefully as they would have Elessar himself. His voice was low and somewhat reedy as it still sought to find its manly range, and his gaze was steady and frank, gray-eyed with a hint of cool blue.

On the morning of their departure from Fornost, Fastred watched the prince from the porch as he briefed his rangers then saw to his own horse and weaponry. The hobbit lad was impressed to see the elven bow take its place beside the beautiful sword that was certainly dwarf craftsmanship. He had heard an elf and a dwarf were of the prince’s party, but had not glimpsed them as yet. Perhaps the weapons were gifts from them.

Just then Elanor stepped onto the porch. When she found Fastred there she nearly snubbed him, but she knew that would be childish of her. In fact, she felt rather guilty to be at odds with him at all. Fastred had only been sweet and kind to her, and he did not deserve the scorn she had thrown his way the past several days.

“Good morning, Fastred,” she said, tendering a truce.

“’Mornin’,” he replied with a cool nod.

The chill in his voice left her feeling bereft, but she knew she deserved it. “I’m sorry, Fastred.”

The lad remained silent for some time and Elanor started to move away with a tremulous sigh. Fastred did not feel very forgiving as she truly hurt his feelings, but he did not think she meant it on purpose.

“I’m sorry too,” he finally murmured.

“Really?” she begged. “I didn’t mean to be so hurtful, honest…”

“I know…”

Just then Eldarion stepped onto the porch. “Good morning, Elli!” he greeted her breezily. “May I know your friend here?”

Brightly, she answered, “Of course! Your Highness, this is Fastred of Greenholm. Fastred… Prince Eldarion Telcontar…”

The two boys sized one another up, although Fastred had already spent most of the morning doing it from afar. Eldarion apparently liked what he saw in the hobbit’s hazel-eyed gaze, for he stuck out a hand to him saying, “Well met, Fastred. Any friend of Elli’s is a friend of mine.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness,” Fastred managed to say. He did not expect the prince to be so amiable.

“You can skip the titles, you two,” he leaned in to them conspiratorially. “My friends just call me ‘Eldarion.’”

The friendly moment was interrupted, however, by the sight of Tanner carrying something very precious to him towards Samwise’s wagon. Elanor suddenly realized it was Aibreán and gasped.

“It was Lady Aibreán who was hurt?” she turned to Eldarion. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“It wasn’t my decision, Elli,” Eldarion replied soberly. “She’s going to be all right though, Saelind says. That’s one of the reasons I came looking for you… I know you were going to ride with me on the way back, but the ladies had hoped you would keep Aibreán company in the wagon. I hope that’s not too much of a disappointment?”

“Oh. I… well, of course I’ll ride with Aibreán. She’s been uncommonly nice to me. I’d do anything to be helpful!”

“Fastred, perhaps you’d like to try riding with me in her stead?” offered the prince. The lad’s answer was a huge grin that lit up his face. “Go get your gear together then, my friend. Elli, we’ll be sure to ride close and visit when we can!” Then with a wave, the prince was back down the stairs and off to get ready.

“Now I’m even sorrier,” said Fastred graciously.

“Why is that?”

“’Cause you were right, Elli. I’m really sorry I didn’t believe you about him.”

Feeling vindicated somewhat, Elanor still managed not to lord it over him. “Well… nevermind,” she said. “We were both sorry and we’re both forgiven, right?” He nodded emphatically and she impetuously gave him a brief kiss on the cheek. “Have fun, Fastred!”

As she bobbed off to the wagon, Fastred blushed to the roots of his sandy hair. Perhaps Elanor was an enchanting elfmaid after all!

-end of Chapter Eleven-