[Orual]

"Where shall we go, Lord Ravion?" Aeron asked insolently. Ravion glared at him for a moment, then grabbed him by the collar. He told Morien where he was headed in case Mellonin or Raefindan needed him, or if he was out later than he anticipated, and started out.

They garnered more than a few stares, the short, stocky Ranger dragging along the taller Aeron along the main streets of Gondor. Finally Aeron shook him off and followed sullenly, but of his own volition. Ravion led him down the back paths to a small, dark shop.

Stepping out of the rain-fresh air into the shop was something of an olfactory shock. The shop smelled strongly of incense and herbs, underlayered with pipe smoke. In the far right corner of the shop a wizened old lady was humming to herself and binding some lambs' ear together. The old woman very much matched her business. Her clothes were all jewel tones: emeralds and deep ruby reds and sapphire blues. Her silver hair was bound up in an amber scarf, tied at the nape of her neck with two tails hanging down past her shoulders. Her fingers, as they bound the lambs' ear, were quick and skillful: this was not the first time she had done this. Her brown eyes sparkled in the light of the oil lamps she kept by her desk.

Ravion cleared his throat politely, and the old woman whirled around defensively, then broke out into a smile when she saw the Ranger.

"Ravion!" she exclaimed, and, leaving her work, hurried across the shop to embrace him. He accepted her embrace warmly, for the woman was like a second mother to him. "What are you doing back in town, child? I thought you were off in Rohan hunting those orcs."

"I found the orcs and returned," he said, a smile on his face. "I've come to buy some more herbs, and some of your bandages. They work quite well."

"Your line of work calls for them altogether too much," she muttered. Ravion rolled his eyes good-naturedly. They had had this conversation before. She saw his gesture and grumbled a little, then put her hands on her hips. "Well, are you going to introduce me to your friend, or not?"

At first Ravion didn't know who she meant. Then he followed her eyeline to Aeron. His friend? He almost choked. "This is Aeron, my..." He couldn't quite think of the right word. "He's in my service for now. Aeron, this is Lothwen, the most renowned and skillful herbalist in all of Gondor."

"Oh, come now," Lothwen retorted, but her face glowed with pride. "That honor belongs to the King, and you know it. I do what I can with what I have. Aeron, 'tis a pleasure to meet you. Serve Ravion well--he'll requite it." She gave the boy a maternal kiss on the cheek, which Aeron accepted somewhat awkwardly. "Now, Ravion, what can I get for you? Oh, yes, bandages. My bandages, I'll tell you in the modesty of honor, Aeron, are the finest in Gondor. I have a trick to them. I won't tell you what it is, but it involves lambs' ear and bloodmoss, I'll tell you that much. Stops the flow of blood right up, and if you apply this balm to it, leaves no room for infection!" She bustled around the shop, gathering an armful of greenish bandages, all wrapped tightly in little rolls. The sight would have been slightly unnerving, the green of the bandages, had Ravion not known that the green came from the combination of herbs that Lothwen used in the making.

"Bandages for you, as well as more balm, because I know if you've run out of bandages you've run out of balm. Here's some extra bloodmoss in case you're cut somewhere where a bandage would be difficult to wrap. Here's that--what's the name of it? oh, I can't recall--it's good for dehydration. You don't drink enough, unless you're at a tavern. Oh, don't look at me that way, boy, you know it's true. You shouldn't drink so much. The bottle will be the death of you yet!"

"Lothwen, how much do I owe you?" Ravion asked quickly, before she could gain too much momentum in her speech.

The old woman's face softened. "Nothing, boy. Just keep safe." She patted him on the cheek with her soft, dry hand, and put everything in a sack. "I can tell you're off somewhere, Ravion, and that it might be more dangerous even than your last few missions. You don't need to pay me, as long as you promise me you'll stay safe. However, if you come back with so much as a scrape, you'll owe me every penny this lot ought to cost!"

Ravion smiled and kissed Lothwen on the forehead. "I'll do my best," he said, taking the sack. "I'll see you when I get back, Lothwen."

"See that you do!" Lothwen called as Ravion and Aeron left. "And remember: one scrape, and you owe me every penny!"

Ravion laughed as he left. "She's a character," he said softly.