Chapter 1: The Golden Daughter
Love has been made to endure many things. Time and fate is always a great test to love. The love between two peoples has endured many things from time to peril.
It began in the days after the finding of the One Ring by Isildur, the High King of Gondor. Thousands of years since the slaying of the High King, there had been whispers of a new fear growing in the world. In those times, Men were left divided and leaderless. In the land of Gondor, the line of Kings was broken leaving the stewardship of lesser men to govern the people until the crowning of Isildur's heir.
In the kingdom of Rohan, there was a growing darkness that none could understand. The whispers of an unknown evil and of "Isildur's Bane" had reached the ears of the people of Rohan and Gondor.
During this time, there was at least one glimmer of hope in the continuing of the race of Men. A young and strong-willed woman of Rohan left her home. Her name was Pharazpher, daughter of Gimilphel. She had found love with Urithor of Gondor, a valiant soldier. Though they were from two different worlds, both of them had a deep bond between them. Urithor loved Pharazpher for her sturdy spirit and her belief in hope which had long abandoned Gondor. Pharazpher had loved Urithor for his strength and wisdom as well as his kindness. In the Spring of the year 2976 of the Third Age, Pharazpher and Urithor were wed and dwelt in Gondor. In the months that followed, their hope was kindled.
In the winter of 2976, Pharazpher and Urithor were about to welcome a child. Just as hope came to the loving couple, tragedy seemed to follow hand-in-hand.
Pharazpher was due to give birth to her child and her husband was not by her side. The pain of the child's coming was nearly unbearable, but a welcome pain for Pharazpher. Without her husband, Pharazpher did not know if she could endure.
"You have to push soon, lady," the midwife said urgently.
"Please, where is my husband?" Pharazpher begged, her voice filled with pain. "My husband should be with me and our child."
"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but that matters not," the midwife said sternly. "What matters now is ensuring the birth of a healthy child as well as your own health."
"Please, I must wait a moment more. Just one moment more!" Pharazpher pleaded.
"I am sorry, miss, but you must push now, or there's no hope in the health of your child," the midwife told her.
Unwilling to harm her child, Pharazpher began to push. The pain was greater than any torture of the Dark Days, but yet she was willing to endure it.
"Very good, miss. Try again," the midwife said confidently.
Pharazpher continued to push and cry out to combat the pain, and the midwife praised her efforts. No matter how much the midwife cheered her on, it did little to neither comfort Pharazpher nor ease her pain. Pharazpher's worries about her husband continued to grow with every push.
Urithor, where are you? she thought anxiously.
As her labor continued, Pharazpher cried out her husband's name. "Urithor!"
Her cries were in vain as her husband never appeared at her side. By night on that day, Pharazpher finally heard the loud cries of her child.
"It is a girl, miss," the midwife said proudly.
The midwife swaddled the baby girl in a cloth and placed her in the arms of Pharazpher. Pharazpher gazed upon her daughter with great love and joy. Her heart was lightened and she felt a new strength grow in her.
"She is beautiful," she sighed.
"Indeed, she is a fair maiden," the midwife agreed. "She is quite as strong as you are."
The girl gripped Pharazpher's finger tightly and her mother laughed. "Yes, she has the strength of me and her father already."
"What will you name her?" the midwife asked.
Pharazpher gazed at the child for a long moment. She looked as if she could find a name from her baby's eyes.
After a long moment, she smiled. "I will name her Pharazphel, daughter of Pharazpher and Urithor."
The midwife beamed. "It is a pretty name. What does it mean?"
"It is Adunaic for golden daughter. My daughter is precious to me, so she will be my golden daughter," Pharazpher explained as she grinned at her dozing baby.
Just then, there was a loud knock on the door. Pharazpher's heart leapt with hope.
"That must be my husband here to see his new daughter!" she said happily.
The midwife raced to the door and opened it. To her dismay as well as Pharazpher's, it was not Urithor, but only a messenger. The messenger did not speak, and only gave the midwife a piece of paper. The midwife read the paper to herself and her face fell.
"What is it? Where is Urithor?" Pharazpher asked, her fear rising.
The midwife could say nothing.
"Tell me! Where is my husband?" Pharazpher cried, causing her child to cry.
"You have endured a great deal tonight. You need rest," the midwife said dismissively.
"As long as I do not know where my husband is, I will not have rest. Tell me where Urithor is," Pharazpher demanded, quieting her daughter.
The midwife did not speak, but handed Pharazpher the parchment. Pharazpher snatched it and read it to herself. As soon as she did so, her eyes seemed to turn to glass and coldness grew over her. The only sound that could be heard was the paper fluttering to the floor.
"This day has been cursed," Pharazpher said. "My husband is dead."
Pharazpher gazed upon her daughter with great sadness, but she could not bear to let tears fall in the presence of her child. She tried to hold on to the joy of her daughter's birth in order to outweigh the bitterness of losing her husband and Pharazphel's father. All the hope that Pharazpher had left was in her golden daughter.
"I will always be with you, my daughter," she whispered. "I will give you my strength, my beloved Pharazphel."