Part 21

“Legally,” said Legolas, “Arador is still a child.”

“Only just, Lassui.”

Legolas and Eowyn had tactfully withdrawn, dragging Ma and Belecthor with them, to give the Reeve and his son a chance to talk in private. Now they were walking aimlessly round the blue works, waiting.

“He is almost twenty-one,” said Eowyn, “which is no doubt why his father is doing this now. Arador may seem like a child, because he spends so much time with three thousand-year old Elves, but amongst Men he will soon be a man.”

“Then maybe marriage is what he needs, Melmenya.”

“Overseeing Eryn Hollen is what he needs, Lassui,” said Eowyn. “It was a brilliant idea. He is exactly the right person to test, and alter, and improve things here, and—though he has always been good at persuading people to do what he wants—it will make him into a proper leader. And he will be able to mix with women his own age without having to plunge straight into a marriage.”

“She may be a very nice girl.”

Eowyn sighed. “I cannot believe that his father would force him...” She stopped walking and, from the frown on her brow, Legolas could see that she had had an idea.

“Melmenya?”

“Do you intend to report the Reeve’s behaviour to Aragorn?” she asked.

“I must,” said Legolas.

“Suppose you did not?”

“You mean—blackmail, Melmenya?”

“A deal,” said Eowyn. “A second chance. Conditional on exemplary behaviour in the future and, of course, on Arador’s freedom.”

“And how would you enforce such a deal, Melmenya?” asked Legolas.

“Hmm...”

...

They found Ma Everill deep in conversation with a big, rangy man who bore more than a passing resemblance to the twins. “My punishment,” said Ma, “what will it be, when it’s at home?”

Legolas folded his arms across his chest. “You will help me repair the road from here to Doro Lanthron, Mistress,” he said.

“More levies,” said Ma.

“The same levy,” said Legolas, “but put to its proper use. And the work will be to your advantage.”

“How?”

Legolas smiled. “It will allow you to transport your blue to Pelargir and, from there, to Far Harad.”

“Far Harad,” said Ma, her eyes focusing on the future, and on new laundries to conquer...

...

Eowyn, meanwhile was looking at Ma’s companion.

“Got something on my face, lady?” he asked, with a hard edge to his voice.

Eowyn was undeterred. “Are you Jemmy?”

“Depends who wants to know.”

“I want to know.”

The man sighed. “Yes, they call me Jemmy. Jemmy the Key. So what?”

“Your mother wants to see you,” said Eowyn. “And it is Yuletide, so—”

“Ma and Pa forgot about me a long time ago,” he said, dismissively.

“No,” said Eowyn, “you are wrong. Your mother still keeps the robe from your Naming Ceremony, and your first pair of boots, and some of your clothes, freshly laundered, in a special chest. She longs to see you. Please—go and visit her, Jemmy.”

...

“They call him Jemmy the Key, do they?” said Eowyn, as she and Legolas walked away. “Well, now I think we know how Ma acquired the recipe for fake blue.”

Legolas laughed.