The Broken Path
Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, those rights belong to JRR Tolken and co.
Standing at the top of the citadel tower I could feel the history of thousands weighing on my shoulders. Ghosts of heroes and kings long past littered the pathway of this mighty city. There had never been a Queen before.
Underneath the canopy and shadow of the white tree it would take place. Standing on a marble dais at the top of the citadel I could feel for a moment a sense of lightness to my limbs. A playful breeze swept by, stirring my pale white dress, attempting to lift the sheer veil covering my face. The muttering of the high priest continued. I looked from the steward to the West. Never had there been such a difference in these two figures. While the West looked strong and haunting in the fading sun, the king, looked instead haggard. The deep wrinkles and frown lines marring his face, and his hair oiled in ringlets could not have been so far from the noble lines of true kings who had ruled before our time.
I sighed, as the priest continued "to forsworn are the lines of the Kings of the Numenorians, from the high seas you have come to name Gondor as your land and so I bind you to the lady of Dol Amroth whose half elven blood may lead the Numenoreans once more to purity…" I was no true Queen. There had never been one for centuries. Only Denethor's madness could have wrought this fate for me. It had been the only way to legitimize himself. Long seasons and untold generations had passed since Mithrellas had walked this land, but I was to be given her name, which was not my own, her bloodline which was not my own. I was an impostor.
11 years earlier…
They say the sea takes more than it gives. The soft sand and the constant beating of the waves would have you think otherwise. Rolls of water grasp at the shore, slowly grabbing the land holding me fast to the realm of Gondor. I came from the sea a long time ago—well only 10 years really—but it is enough to instill a sort of terrifying fear in me that it will take something of mine in exchange for giving me to the land. That price my father always says to me, will probably be his, but he doesn't know that in my heart he is the most precious thing I have and if the sea were to take him, well it will have exacted it's price from me.
I am not the normal dark haired, tall, and pale skinned personage as the people of Lebennin and Dol Amroth. I came from a land far away beyond the Umbarian realms to a place filled with green bamboo and emerald waters. I never knew the exact consequences of my coming and leaving that place but my father always said that it was the sea god of the realm that floated me to him in the reeds on one of his merchant ventures. I always end up whacking him on the back saying "Surely it is the gods that have cursed me for such a foolish father" and I would smile in jest. I have the same black hair has the Gondorians on the western shore but it is a deeper shade of night—blacker than the waters of the Umbarian shores, my skin is bronze in the summer and light gold in the winter for I tan easily. Otherwise my father says the most beautiful and I would say only feature of my face are my eyes, as they are slanted, almond shaped brown found nowhere else.
Enough of me, I turn away from my musing by the shores and skip happily along the beach heading to a grove of reeds, I am looking for mussels for diner because even at ten although I feel I am old enough for anything, I can cook. Well, passably since usually it is papa that does the most, but he's always so patient with me. After wading knee deep in the muddy water I stick my hand closest to the softer mud midway between open shore and ocean. Here the fresh water mixes with the sea and it is the perfect place for mussel hunting. After a few hours I have gathered a pound of mussels and proceed to make my way home. We live a whiles away from the nearest city, my father who enjoys places away from people had built a 1 story cottage near the sandbars off the bay of Belfalas. We had a wonderful view and easy access to the beach and sea. From here you could see the tall sails of the ports of Lebennin and my father always jokes, we'd be the first to see an Umbarian pirate invasion. Nevertheless, it is an easy climb from the beach home and when I do I run through the brambles and grass to reach the doorway. Wearing a skirt I lunge to the door shouting "I'm home papa!! I'm home!!" No one answers. He must be at the port then, quickly I dump the mussels into a pot pulled from underneath the stove, grabbing butter, sea salt, and a dash of sugar, it makes everything taste better. I grab some firewood from outside the shed ducking back in through the back door, after some initial frustration the fire ignites and in the blink of an eye I have a pot of mussels bubbling merrily on the stove top.
I sigh, wiping my hands on my apron and sit wiping the sweat from my brow. I grab a ladle of water from the large earthen ware pots and sip, the water tastes cool and sweet. Suddenly, the front door bursts open and I jump in surprise, he's never usually that loud, running to the door I skid to a halt. My father arrives, his black beard stiff with sea salt and his bright eyes smiling from underneath his seaman's cap. He is soaking wet and carrying what appears to be a set of rags.
"Hurry Ivrin I fear he won't last long in this wet, grab some clean clothes and a blanket there's a good girl" puzzled I said" You mean for the rags? Father you know I can just wash those, it is no great matter" Laughing he set the bundle on the couch and I realize hands to my mouth that the rags were actually a boy.
Rushing I zip through my room behind the kitchen and grab a woolen blanket and one of father's shirts. By then the boy is coughing, and I shove the shirts at my father and rush into the kitchen to grab some hot water from the pot of muscles. Arriving, I slow suddenly shy, we never have many visitors secluded as we are and I hide behind my father's bulk until he notices me with the cup of steaming water. Turning around, he laughs" By the god you can read minds Ivrin, always knew you were god chosen." Laughing at the old jest I sigh giving him the cup of water over my shoulder I whisper "the mussels are ready" before ducking back into the kitchen.