On Marriage

As Winter deepens throughout the ruined heap of rubble that is Osgiliath, Endaerion sits within the garrison infirmary huddled about a cup of something warm. Many of the other men are bundled in whatever blankets can be spared. For some that is not much, and they gather as close as they dare to a small makeshift fire. The Cuthalion strains his eyes in the darkness to make out the words etched upon many parchments. The candlelight offers little aid.

\"Yes, I know it is my own brazier,\" a cool voice intones at the door of the infirmary. \"Place it here where the cots are farthest from the hearth, and get it going at once.\" Lady Mormegil has come, trailing a pair of soldiers carrying a short brazier, which they place as she commands.

The lady herself strides along the narrow aisle down the middle of the room to the hearth, already chiding the apprentice there for allowing it to die down. \"I want that fire roaring. I do not care if you must sit there all night blowing on it yourself these men -must- be kept warm.\" She herself looks cold, and she is wrapped in what looks to be not her own cloak, but an old Ranger\'s winter cloak, green and heavy and wrapped tightly around her.

Several of the infirmary\'s occupants, those that are awake at least, look toward the senior Healer with gratitude. Indeed, so do many of the healers still left within the room, finishing off their tasks before the shift ends.

One of these chilled souls is Midhwen, who finishes grinding the last of a batch of dried herbs, waiting for the healer overseeing the work to check the results.

\"Building up the fire, cousin,\" Lirael says as if this should be obvious. \"I am cold, you are cold, everyone is cold. It is freezing outside, and my tent is horrible. I would be more comfortable curled on the hearth rug like a hound.\"

She yawns, then comes to sit beside her cousin, huddled in her cloak. \"Midhwen, leave that and come here,\" she says, raising her voice just enough. \"Have you met her yet, Endaerion?\" The tilt of her head says she is not referring to Midhwen.

A foul mood thus animates the newest entry to the infirmary, bandaged about the chest. He takes up residence seated upon one of the many cots and snaps his fingers. \"I need to have my bandages re-wrapped, one of you,\" says Bor aloud.

Midhwen sets aside the pestle and mortar, quickly packing away the ground herb before walking over to where her kin gather. She stands by the bed, wrapping her cloak around herself in a bid to keep herself warm.

\"Yes cousin?\" She looks towards the door at the entrance of the Bragollach knight, before shooting Lirael a questioning glance.

\"I have,\" nods the Lord Claimant after having furrowed his brow at the initial notion of the question being toward Midhwen. \"I did not realize this entire time that it was her. Quite ironic. She should be quite suitable. I wonder at the arrangement.\" The Ranger takes the papers from his hands and sets them aside.

\"Sit, get warm,\" Lirael invites. The trio are set a little apart from the rest of the infirmary, and she is about to go on when the demanding Lord Bragollach enters. She gazes around and lands on her daughter, who is unpacking a basket at the herb table. \"Tend him, will you? Then come get warm.\"

The slender girl bends her head, then makes her way to Bor, inconveniently placed in the coldest part of the room. \"My lord,\" she says in a sweet voice, laying out her tools on the cot beside him.

Lirael, meanwhile, gives her kinsmen a sigh. \"Suitable enough, if she learns that wisdom lies often in holding one\'s tongue. But as you might guess, Lord Mormegil desires an alliance with her lord father. Provided she gives you a son.\"

Taking a seat next to Lirael, Midhwen\'s brows furrow as she listens to the conversation between her two elders. However, she says nothing, it seems that unlike the topic of their conversation, she has gained some of the wisdom the older Healer refers to.

\"It is sore, too,\" says Bor to Morwenn, looking for her to the tools that she has arrayed to her side. \"I would have something for the pain.\"

Endaerion nods his head. \"A powerful alliance indeed.\" Then looking between the two women, he nearly seems to frown. \"I have grown so accustomed to quiet, grey, cold stone halls. Now suddenly I take a bride of the Ephalkhir, Midhwen is coming into her own, and you have returned from Lebennin. I dare say I am in for an awakening.\"

\"Yes, of course,\" Morwenn murmurs, looking to the nearest healer, who agrees to fetch something. \"Will you raise your arms, my lord? It is easiest to remove the bandages that way, but if you cannot, no matter.\" As she speaks, she untucks the end of the old bandage, then waits for answer, her voice calm and soft.

Lirael laughs at that. \"Nevermind, Endaerion. There are smaller manses in Minas Tirith that will suit Morwenn and I very well, so we\'ll not be underfoot. Midhwen,\" she says then, turning to her cousin, \"you perhaps have not heard, but my lord has arranged a marriage between Lord Endaerion and Zaira, daughter of Lord Ephalkhir.\"

\"I know you from somewhere, do I not?\" says Bor, not yet raising his arms. He appraises Morwenn squarely for a long moment. \"Who are you now?\"

Only then does the Knight-Captain comply with the girl\'s instruction.

\"If I have not caused any trouble during my nineteen years of residence in the city so far, I doubt anything will change now.\" She smiles down at Endaerion, the expression on her face growing brighter once the news of his engagement has been delivered. \"Indeed, I had not heard. From what I have observed of her, it is a good match.\"

\"You are certainly welcome in Bar Cuthalion, cousin.\" Endaerion corrects himself.

Then it is to Midhwen that he looks next. \"Nineteen indeed? Perhaps we had better look to your betrothal as well. Something logical.\"

\"Morwenn Taidonnen Mormegil,\" the girl replies, appearing for a moment to embrace the Knight-Captain as she unwinds the bandaging. When she has done so, she looks at the wound and frowns apprehensively. \"It will hurt to clean it, my lord. I... I am sorry for it.\"

Lirael joins in the speculation. \"Indeed,\" she murmurs finally. \"Yes, and before Morwenn. True, you are some years from your majority yet, but it is never too soon to look. What think you of a Carmayar, Endaerion? Laeghen, perhaps, or Gurtir? They are both good men.\"

Growing pale for a second at the Ranger\'s words, Midhwen recovers quickly, the smile from earlier still plastered on her face. \"There is no need to hurry cousin, I assume you. As our kinswoman has said, I am some years from my majority.\"

\"Perhaps.\" the Ranger replies, though to either the question of a Carmayar or as to the character of either man remains unclear. \"Aye, the matter can wait, in any event. But as for the issue of my wedding, I would prefer to move swiftly on it. I am on the mend, and it is possible that some of us could see extended campaigns throughout Ithilien. If that is the case, then there are plans I would like to set in motion before such time, and with the full authority of the Lord Cuthalion.\"

Morwenn looks at the man for a moment, then smiles sweetly. \"Yes, my lord,\" she says, dipping her hands, already cold, into a red liquid and shivering as it makes them colder. Next is a linen cloth, and this she uses to carefully cleanse the wound, a little frown between her eyes. \"I hope you think better of me now,\" she says quietly when she is done.

\"Where do you wish to be wed?\" Lirael asks Endaerion after a considering look at Midhwen. \"My lord and I were wed on Mindolluin, but it is far too cold and distant for that.\"

\"My mother is still within the city, if swift planning is required.\" Feeling Lirael\'s gaze upon her, she avoids meeting it. \"I am sure she would consider it an honour to provide any assistance necessary.\"

\"Why lady, I do not think of you at all,\" responds Bor simply, smiling.

But that smile is erased by the sudden iciness of the girl\'s procedure and the pain too. The Knight-Captain winces. \"What is that?\" he asks of the liquid.

Endaerion\'s gaze drifts to Morwenn, watching her at work. \"I have not given it much thought. Better handled by somebody with more of a mind for ceremony and such, I deem.\" At the younger cousin\'s words he nods. \"Or perhaps you, yourself, Midhwen, if that interests you. I have matters of my Company to attend to. And as well, Lord Phazganun\'s daughter should likely be consulted for her preference.\"