Dreams of Power [ Lord of the Rings x Silmarillion ]

The Redhead Left Behind

The streets of the upper levels of Minas Tirith remained relatively quiet as most of their residents worked in the markets of the second level during the day. The few merchants she did see gave slight bows at her passing. Reaching the fourth level barracks at last, she found the person she sought.

Fëalas smiled and shook her head as she watched the youngest ranger of her company trying to organize his arrows. “Sarnor!”

He looked up at her shout. Standing at attention, he nodded to her and then smiled. “Yes, Captain?”

“Where are Angrendir and Caenir?” She looked around herself briefly. “The three of you are coming with me to see the dwarves.”

“Angrendir is upstairs, Caenir is at the yard.” Sarnor’s face lit up in excitement. “Our mission?”

“Escort. We’re traveling with Elboron again to Aglarond.” She walked forward into the barracks and placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Go pack. I’ll tell Angrendir and Caenir. We leave at first light tomorrow.”

Continuing past him deeper inside, she walked up a flight of winding stairs and stopped by a room farther down a hallway on the left. There was no door, instead it opened into a room with two tables and food store. At the table sat three men in comfortable clothing of varying ages.

“Enjoying yourselves while in the city?” Fëalas smiled with a cheeky laugh. She did not miss the bottles of alcohol being passed around.

All three shot up immediately, knocking over a bottle. A hushed flurry of curses came from one of the men as he tried to save the alcohol. Fëalas shook her head and tried to hide a smile.

“You're free to drink on your off time.” She laughed. “No need to hide it.”

They all stood sheepishly. One of them, a man fair of face and dark haired, spoke up. “Is there a new mission, Captain?”

“For you.” She nodded. She turned to all three. “I'm taking Caenir, Sarnor, and Angrendir with me to escort Elboron to Aglarond.”

“What should the rest of us do?” asked the only blonde of the three rangers.

Fëalas shrugged with a smile. “Drink? Play dice? Don't get into trouble is all.”

Angrendir followed Fëalas as she turned to leave. Together they walked down the stairs. “When do we leave?”

“Be ready before dawn tomorrow. I want you and Sarnor to have all the horses ready by then.” She turned to address him as she left him at the door leaving the barracks. “Make sure Elboron’s horse is done at least. I can do my own if you run out of time.”

“Yes ma’am.” He mock saluted her.

She gave a short laugh and shook her head. She loved all her companions like family. Angrendir reminded her most of Aderthon, with his cheek and humor. Fëalas was glad for Angrendir’s sake that he’d ended up in her company and not Círeth’s. Círeth had a completely different connection to her own rangers. In the eastern rangers, chain of command was serious and created bonds of friendship. Down in the south, in her own company, she tried to make all feel equal.

She wandered back up to the fifth level. Staying left at the mountain dividing the level, she found the large swath of green space used by training companies. The steady thump of arrows hitting a target betrayed Caenir’s presence.

“Caenir,” Fëalas called over to him. “Looking good.”

The brown haired ranger turned and nodded his thanks. “What can I do for you, Captain?”

“We have a mission. Escort.” She told him about their job. “Be ready before dawn. Sarnor and Angrendir are to prepare the horses. I'm sure they’d appreciate the help tomorrow.”

He nodded immediately. “Of course. Are we expecting trouble on the road?”

“I wouldn't think so.” She shook her head, and then gave a sigh. “But you never know. We need to be ready for anything.”

Caenir dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Always, Captain.”

“I have to find Lord Elboron.” She gestured to his bow. “Please, carry on.” After exchanging goodbyes, she turned and made her way back up to the sixth level.

As she went through the gate, the fletcher's shop she used, The Marksman’s Merchandise, loomed on her left. Past that she saw Faramir’s Hall, renamed in the War of the Ring after the great Captain of the Southern Rangers. The Hall was the headquarters for all Dúnedain, whether from the North, South, or East. Círeth and Fëalas and Bergil all had accommodations inside for when they stayed in Minas Tirith. Beside Faramir’s Hall, the Royal Library stood tall. That was where she figured Elboron would be if not at home. But at home she would check first.

His house sat halfway down the royal and high noble houses. All houses, for few there were, had small yards of green grass and a tree or two each. Flower pots flanked many of the doors, and the white stone had been softened by blue, white, or purple flowing cloth beside each window.

When she reached the door, she gave a quick knock. Lothuial answered the door soon after. She smiled at Fëalas and nodded her head in a quick bow.

“What can I do for you, Lady Fëalas?” The dark haired woman smiled and invited the ranger inside. “You came at a rare moment of quiet. Barahir is asleep upstairs, finally.”

Fëalas stepped inside and glanced around the house. She had been here only a few times. It was a nice home.

“I was looking for your husband. The King has a new mission for him.” Fëalas turned back to the woman. “Do you know where he is?”

“He should be coming back anytime now. He had a lunch engagement with several of the merchant councilmembers.” She smiled. “You're welcome to wait for him.”

“Actually, would you just let him know to come see me at Faramir’s Hall before the end of the day? I’ve got some planning to do.” The ranger captain paused and then gave a short laugh. “I've got a lot of work to do.”

Lothuial smiled, pity evident in her expression. “I'm sure it will work out. I'll send him over as soon as he can go.”

Fëalas left the house with a wave and a smile before heading back towards Faramir’s Hall. Walking up the few steps to the large door, she pushed the right mahogany door open and went inside. Lots of light streamed in through the windows and a roaring fire at the base of the grand inside stairs provided even more. Two rangers in training, both of the Southern Company, sat on the stairs. It was their job to tend the fire. At Fëalas’ entrance they shot up, standing straight at attention.

“Captain!” The one on the left, slightly taller but still a visibly young man, all but squeaked out his greeting.

“Careful, Aegon, you might sprain something standing that straight.” She chuckled lightly and walked past them to the right side of the fire.

The stairs, divided at both the bottom and top into two sides, led up to the three different rooms where the North, South, and East ranger captains kept their papers and notes and precious items. Fëalas’ room was on the far right side. At the back of the room, through a perpetually closed door, her bedroom sat. For though her brother offered both his siblings accommodations, she preferred the privacy of Faramir’s Hall when home in Minas Tirith. She kept the door shut to preserve that solitude.

With a sigh, she entered her office chamber and sat down at the chair behind the desk. She ran a hand through her hair and slumped over. She had much on her mind.