Author's Note:
I shall be using some Elvish throughout this fanfiction, and the meanings of the words shall be at the bottom of each chapter, along with the link to the review page and my Author page. The Elvish dictionary is found here for those of you who want it the first few chapters of the story is slow, and is an introduction farther back in the past of Lithwen. It will take a little while to get into the story...but not that long :)
And thank you to Sarah, my brand-spanking new beta-reader!
Disclaimer -
Lithwen and all other foreign matters here are mine. All other recognizable things are J. R. R. Tolkien's. This is for entertainment purposes only.
Chapter 1 Arrival of Unexpected Guests
Curious whispers and half-hearted curses resounded throughout Edoras as a man rode furiously up the city's main road on a dark horse, hooves pounding up the steep steps that led to the front of the castle. The man stopped at the gates, looking down at the Rohirrim from his seat for a moment, his horse and himself panting heavily. Then with a quick leap, he leapt off the horse and dashed to the gates, his horse led off by a stable boy. He was stopped by two big men and he stared at them frantically.
The rider began speaking quickly to the men who were watching him with curious glances. "Please, open the gates. I need to see King Eomer immediately. I have an important message for him from King Elessar of Gondor." He reached into a pouch in his belt and held out a scroll to validate his visit to the city. The white wax was stamped with the same emblem on his chest, and the guards quickly complied upon recognition, scrambling to open the heavy side doors apart to let the man inside.
One of the guards led the messenger up the last of the steps into the Golden Hall, the rider struggling to keep up after his arduous ride. Finally, the two stopped at a set of large, heavy wooden doors, the dark wood carved with a scene of a man riding with wild horses through endless fields. The guard knocked once, the sound brisk and echoing. After a few moments the doors opened from within, permitting them entrance.
King Eomer was sitting in a large wooden chair with several other men. They were seated around a long dark table with magnificent carvings along the legs and the edge. The room was made out of similar dark wood with long windows that let much light into the elongated room. Heavy gold and curtains fell down to floor on all sides, pulled back with thick gold ropes tied to hooks on the wall.
The man kneeled instantly as the doors closed behind him with a small click. He kept his head lowered until he was addressed
"There's no need for formalities," Eomer said good-naturedly. "What's your name?"
The man rose from the cold floor. "Warick, Your Highness."
"And what is your business in Edoras?"
"I have a message from King Elessar of Gondor. It's urgent, Your Highness." Warick held the message out for Eomer to see.
The king's brow furrowed with confusion. "Well, pass it here then, if it is so important."
Warick quickly rushed across the room to the king's seat and handed him the letter. The king swiftly pulled apart the wax seal, and read the contents looking a little worried. When he was finished he looked up at Warick.
"How close are they?" he asked.
"I'd say about an hour ride from the gates, Your Highness."
"Well, let's get ready for our guests then. Oh, and someone please make sure my son and daughter are presentable," he said before getting up. He left the room, letting the men in the room read the contents of the letter still open on the table.
A loud thwack resounded through the practice yard, followed by an, "Ow! That wasn't fair!"
Prince Elfwine looked down at his little sister of fourteen years teasingly. "All is fair in love and war, my dear Lithwen." He gallantly offered his free hand to help her up, the other hand holding a long sword, blunted on its edges. His brown, curly hair fell into his eyes, and he blew it away irritably, distracted from his younger opponent on the ground.
"This isn't war," Lithwen grumbled. "And it wasn't fair." As soon as she was up, she took her own dull blade and hit him behind the knees with it, making him collapse to the ground.
"That wasn't fair either!" Elfwine bellowed. He tenderly rubbed his knees before rising off the dusty ground, glaring viciously at his younger sibling. "You're such a cheat sometimes."
Lithwen paid him no attention when she noticed a man come into the practice yard, a sword tied to his belt and his travel worn clothes embroidered with a white horse on the faded green background. Her face suddenly blossomed as she recognized the man and she dropped her sword where she stood. She ran forward to greet him. "Haeren! When did you arrive?"
The man grinned down at her when she stopped in front of him. "Only a couple hours ago, my little princess," he replied. His long, blonde hair was pulled back in a thong, and his green eyes twinkled at her excitement. She walked back towards Elfwine with Haeren at her side, her step light and happy.
Lithwen's grin grew wider and she looked at the man with great admiration. The man had taught both her and Elfwine how to fight along with the other children and squires, before he had been promoted to captain of his own company. He encouraged her to do the opposite of what her mother wanted. Her mother, Lothiriel, was a well-refined noble woman of Gondor and disapproved greatly of Lithwen's penchant for mischief. Haeren had on more than one occasion defended Lithwen against the queen's discipline and allowed her to continue training like her brother had. Both Lithwen and Elfwine looked up to him as if he was an older brother.
Elfwine walked over to where Haeren and Lithwen stood, his eyes lighting up with excitement but his mouth turning into a thin line with confusion. "I thought you would be away for at least another week."
"We were able to finish our scouting quickly. We'll be here for a few days before we have to leave again though," Haeren replied pleasantly. But he looked frazzled, and slightly distracted.
"Are you okay, Haeren?" Lithwen asked. Her brow furrowed in question as she inspected him. His tan skin was slightly flushed, as if he had been in a rush and he looked a little tense.
Elfwine looked from his sister to his friend, also noticing Haeren's tinged cheeks. "Is there something going on?" the prince asked.
"I was just a little rushed. You are having rather important guests stay here, and I was instructed to make sure you were taken to your rooms to make you look...presentable, as your father put it. I don't really know. I think that I am supposed to make sure you wear something a little more appropriate to greet guests," answered Haeren, eying Lithwen's boyish clothes and Elfwine's dirty ones jokingly. The two looked indignant in response.
Lithwen lifted her chin, her small nose higher in the air. "We look perfectly fine," she said curtly.
"I think so too, but I suspect your mother will be thoroughly displeased if you go like that," Haeren retaliated kindly. "Come along; let us get you two to your rooms to change."
The three started walking back towards the Golden Hall as he was talking, Lithwen jogging lightly to try and keep up with his long strides. The captain looked anxious, as if he might be needed elsewhere, so the two adolescents moved faster almost running ahead of him to their chambers.
"Why weren't we told earlier that we were expecting visitors? Surely they had informed my father or mother well beforehand," Elfwine asked over his shoulder.
Haeren suddenly looked a little sad, as if a shadow had crossed his mind, but he smiled at them once more. "I'm not obliged to tell you that, my prince. Your father has his reasons for not telling you," he replied, not breaking his stride.
They reached her rooms first and he quickly summoned the only servant Lithwen had. "Choose a nice dress," he instructed the two girls. "Not dirty and not wrinkled. Maybe even stately. And be quick." With that he left with Elfwine, and Lithwen closed the door behind him.
"Well, let us see what we have to work with, Mithaira," she said with a smile to the girl. Lithwen watched as Mithaira walked towards her wardrobe, sifting through her dresses to find something suitable. The princess usually chose her own clothes, in case her mother tried to influence the way she dressed through her servants, but she felt that it was probably best to let the other girl choose on this occasion.
After a few minutes of searching, Mithaira pulled an ivory and yellow dress out of the wardrobe. She laid it gently onto Lithwen's bed and waited as Lithwen began to pull off her leather breeches and light tunic she had gotten from her brother. She had a chest at the end of her bed full of the old clothes from her sibling that her mother knew nothing about because it was always locked up.
As she changed, Lithwen peeked at herself in the mirror, and noticed the curves that had been developing on her body, but were unnoticeable through the big and shapeless clothing she often preferred to wear. Changing so much already…if only I had been born a boy. Life would be so much easier for everyone, she thought.
Mithaira disrupted her musings. "My lady, if I may be so bold as to ask why you are changing into a gown now, when there is still daylight outside and time to wear the clothes given to you by your brother?" The servant walked towards the bathroom on the left side of the room and Lithwen followed her. She took off the little clothing she still had on as Mithaira began to wash the dirt off her skin with a wet and warm cloth from a wash basin on the floor.
Lithwen sighed and thought about the stable hands playing outside, wrestling and sword fighting. She frequently fought with them when her brother had other duties to attend to. Her mother, as usual, disapproved greatly whenever she found out, but they were easy to defeat when they fought. "It seems that my family is being hosts to some guests that appear to be quite important. I am supposed to greet them with my brother, looking proper," she replied.
"Do you have any guess as to who these people are?"
"No. Someone important but not worth all this trouble, I'm sure," Lithwen answered shortly.
The two remained silent for the rest of the time Lithwen was getting ready, as Mithaira knew not to interrogate the princess further. The maid understood how the princess felt about over confident, haughty nobles from surrounding areas. When she was done the servant wiped Lithwen down with a dry towel, and they moved back into the girl's bedroom. Lithwen put on her undergarments and dress, and Mithaira fastened the ties on the back, pulling them tightly.
Then Lithwen sat down in front of her vanity, looking at herself in the wide mirror. Mithaira walked over and began to brush her long dark hair, the locks shining from the light coming in through her window. When she was done, the maid twisted her hair up so it was piled elegantly on top of her head, long tendrils falling down her back.
"Well, I think that you are more than prepared, my lady," Mithaira said with a smile, looking at her friend and mistress fondly.
Smiling back and nodding, Lithwen stood up from her seat and walked towards the door. "Thank you, Mithaira," she said before leaving her chambers.
The soft tread of her own footsteps were soon accompanied by the familiar step of her brother as she made her way through the corridors to the entrance hall. Sure enough her older sibling fell in step beside her, and she briefly glanced at him as they walked together. He was wearing a moss green doublet with a white tunic underneath, their crest splayed in white across his chest. His hair was combed and clean and the dirt on his face had been wiped away.
Without looking at her directly he said, "How long do you think they will be?"
"I hope not too long. I don't want to be in this gown longer than I have to be," she replied, not breaking stride.
"Neither do I," agreed Elfwine, looking down at his formal clothes.
Looking pleasantly surprised, Lithwen said jokingly, "I didn't realize you were interested in dressing yourself in ladies' garb, my dear brother."
He didn't get a chance to reply as they reached the entrance hall and saw that their mother and father were already there, surrounded by various members of the king's council. King Eomer and Queen Lothiriel stood side by side, talking idly with smiles on their faces while they awaited the arrival of their guests. The two siblings moved closer to the shadows and away from their parents and the other nobles that they were not fond of speaking with.
They stood there in comfortable silence for fifteen minutes before the arrival of their guests were announced by a tall man with curly brown hair - a guard from the main gates into Edoras. The king and queen both smiled and went outside to await the guests, the rest of the people following closely behind the royalty. Elfwine and Lithwen soon found themselves outside as well, ushered there by a council member despite their struggles to stay inside.
The group of people looked down to see a large host walking up the stairs to the Golden Hall. In front of them was a man with a gold crown on his head and a smile on his face. Beside him was dark haired elf woman, a matching crown on her head.
"Welcome, my dear friends!" cried Eomer, walking forward eagerly to meet the group as they walked up the final steps to the threshold of the castle. "It has too long since our last meeting, Elessar," he said to a man at the head of the company.
The good friends embraced briefly, and King Elessar said, "Things have been busy..." looking at his queen, Arwen Undomiel, who looked extremely pregnant. "Only a few more months now before another one is on the way..."
Arwen smiled at Eomer and walked forward, still graceful with each step despite the added weight. She hugged him as best she could, and then hugged Lothiriel in turn, the Rohirrim queen looking absolutely ecstatic to see the queen.
Lithwen watched this reunion with a little curious interest, but decided she would rather not be seen. So, quite expertly, she scooted behind her brother, peeking around his broad shoulders to look at the gathering every once in a while.
"I wish I were inside..." whispered Elfwine to her, a small smile on his face.
"Same here," Lithwen replied, then noticed three children walk up to stand next to their parents. The only boy there looked to be Elfwine's age, one girl about four years younger than herself, and the third girl no younger than five. "Hey, Elfwine...who are they?" she whispered.
"That's Eldarion, Elewen, and the young one is Eldariya," replied Elfwine, the smile growing larger. Then he walked away from he extremely unexpectedly, and went to talk with Eldarion, leaving Lithwen in the open to be seen by all the foreign people.
Lithwen mentally cursed herself. Why did her brother have to know Gondor's prince? She knew that they had become friends, when Elfwine had visited a year ago for a few months, but why did he have to leave her feeling vulnerable and in the open?
"Lithwen, come here and meet our guests," her father said, startling her out of her thoughts. Eomer was looking at her expectantly, and her mother looked positively gleeful.
Trying to look as pleasant as possible even while she quaked inside, Lithwen walked towards her parents and her guests. As she walked she examined the faces of the unfamiliar royalty. King Elessar stood with a proud and breathtaking stature. His face was kind, but commanded respect in the most vast ways. The queen had soft lines across her face, faint signs of age that her husband also possessed. But she was still regal, and had a surreal sense of beauty around her. Everyone knew the stories about the elf-queen, the other-worldly leader of the great race of Man, but Lithwen didn't expect someone so gentle and radiant. And the king she had always pictured was a great brute of a man with strength that surpassed hundreds upon hundreds. Yet she was presented with the strong, yet benevolent man before her.
"Lithwen, this is King Elessar and Queen Arwen," her mother said, introducing them with a friendly familiarity.
"Child, you haven't changed at all since the last time we saw you," Arwen said. Her voice is even beautiful, Lithwen thought numbly. "You probably don't remember meeting me before though, do you? You were so young then. But you have still grown so much."
Lithwen gazed at the queen, trying to remember anything that might connect the queen with a memory. But when she couldn't, she smiled and shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't recall you," she replied courteously.
"That's alright, Lirimaer," the queen replied. Arwen smiled again, and while Lithwen thought about how lovely she was, she felt a sense of recognition and a feeling of remembrance of the smile.
Lirimaer - My Lovely
Date 11/7/04