Author's Note: This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so please be kind
and bear with me! Oh, and as always, please review! Also, as an additional
note, I'm not all that knowledgeable in a lot of things concerning the Lord
of the Rings trilogy, so if I make mistakes, please let me know! Thanks!
I have written a lot of this story already, so updates should occur frequently. However, I'm withholding each piece, just for kicks (hehehe, yeah, I'm evil). Oh, and I'll be away on vacation this week, so I don't know whether or not I will be able to update then. I'll be taking my laptop, but internet connections at my place of stay are uncertain at this moment, so sorry in advance for any delays.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, Lord of the Rings, etc, etc.
Prologue
Lothiriel of Dol Amroth sat serenely staring out into the sea. It had been weeks, nay, months since her father and elder brothers rode off to serve their country during these dark and treacherous times. At the time, she had protested greatly, proclaiming that if she was not allowed to go and fight for her country, she would fling herself into the sea from disgrace and grief. That is, until her cousin Faramir gently took her arm and led her outside for a walk.
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"Lothiriel," Faramir began, but was duly interrupted by the frustrated princess.
"Faramir, this is ridiculous! First, I lost mother, and now am I to lose the only kin I have left on this earth? Am I to sit here and wait in idleness until a rider, sent by your father, races to Dol Amroth to bear the news that will be my undoing? And you are to leave as well! Is it not bad enough that I lost Boromir to this stupid war! Am I to lose you as well? You, who has understood me above all others and stood by me even when my brothers and father did not?" she yelled in frustration, tears threatening to fall on her face.
"Lothiriel," Faramir whispered softly. "It is to be this way. My father calls on his family to bring glory to our people. To Gondor. Your father, brothers, and I do not cherish leaving you here. In fact, we cannot bear to part with you. However, we have a duty to uphold, and I would not risk losing you, too. You are more my sister than Boromir ever was brother to me, and I could not survive the thought of thinking you in harm's way. Make this sacrifice for Gondor. For your father and brothers. If not for them, do it for me, the brother who loves and understands you best." Lothiriel simply looked up at her cousin and sobbed, her heart broken. Faramir stood there, supporting her until she was ready to forfeit her tears.
"I am finished," she said quietly. "Forgive me of my outburst. It was selfishly and foolishly done."
"There is nothing to forgive, Lothiriel, and it is best that you have gotten that over and done with. You would not have your brothers tease you for being such a crybaby, would you?" he teased in his playful tone.
"No, it would not do me well if their last thoughts of me were ill," she said with quiet resolve, as she bravely took his arm and walked back to the house, determined not to cry at the sight of all she held dear racing away towards Minas Tirith to their certain deaths.
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A rider sped toward the house at great speed, bearing a flag of Gondor. Lothiriel caught sight of him just as he emerged from the forest bordering the palace and skidded to the front door at an abrupt stop. "What news do you bear?" she asked anxiously as she flung open the heavy doors to her home.
"I bear a letter from Mithrandir, the White Wizard," he said, as she handed her the missive.
"I thank you kindly for your troubles. Please, take your rest from your strenuous journey, for I have seen that you have ridden hard through the night to bring me this news." With that, Lothiriel asked a servant to lead the exhausted messenger from Minas Tirith to a guest room, and saw to it that an extra place setting was to be added at the evening meal. Then, with great excitement and trepidation, she ran from the palace by the sea toward the beach and sat down on her favorite rock to read the latest news from Gondor's capital.
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My Dear Lady Lothiriel, Princess of Dol Amroth,
The following is a missive from your cousin, Faramir, son of Denethor the late Steward of Gondor. Injured in a brave defense of Osgiliath and Minas Tirith, he lies in bed still with no proper use of his arm. Therefore, at his request, it is my hand that pens his words.
Dearest Lothiriel,
Worry not at my condition, for I am quickly on the mend. What Gandalf says is true-I was injured in battle. However, 'twas only a minor skirmish and I sit here in the Houses of Healing, weary of keeping to my bed!
The race of men, it seems, is not doomed to fail. When I see your face again, I shall tell you in person of the great and perilous journey and those involved. I only write to bring you news of the state of your country, and more importantly, your family.
Gondor, aided by the Riders of Rohan, helped destroy the forces of evil marching upon our city. Rohan, whom we all thought had forsaken our friendship as much as we had forsaken theirs, rode to our rescue at much great cost. King Theoden of Rohan lies in rest, at the hands of the Witch- King, slain by his brave and beautiful niece Eowyn, who followed her uncle into battle disguised as a Rider. I know what you shall think of at this piece of news, but I would have you know that it has made my heart much lighter to know that my favorite little cousin is safely tucked away in her home and did not follow us into war.
Your father was injured in battle, also, but fares well. Your brothers fare well also. Elphir, Amrothos, and Echirion join your father in council with the soon-to-be-crowned King Elessar, Isildor's heir.
And now I come to ask you a request. As you are now aware of the end of this miserable war, you will, no doubt, hop on the next available horse and ride hard to the gates of Minas Tirith. I must beg you to stay where you are. However, I am sure that you are as much weary keeping to the house as I am keeping to my miserable bed! Therefore, I am a man willing to compromise, so long as word of this letter never reaches your father's ear- I am sure he will end my life if it is ever made known that I willingly gave his only daughter permission to leave the safety of Dol Amroth and venture to the dangers of Minas Tirith.
If you choose to join us, you are to take the whole of the small army your father left for your protection, save twenty men to guard the palace. When you leave, you are to pack lightly. Take nothing you cannot carry with you on your horse, for you have several belongings here at your father's quarters in Minas Tirith which I am sure will be most serviceable to your needs. You are to leave early in the morning, when the sun is not yet up, and ride hard for the gates of Minas Tirith. If you follow my instruction, you shall be here before the sun sinks back behind the mountains. You are not to leave Dol Amroth until the messenger I sent you is recovered enough to make the journey. Therefore, I expect you exactly one week from the arrival of my letter. I have already quietly informed the guards at the city gates. They shall let you in with little trouble. And Lothiriel, although immediate danger has passed, be on your guard always, and take your sword!
I shall see you in a week's time, and until then, I wait for your arrival. May you have a swift and safe journey through Gondor.
Your cousin, who sends you all the love in the world, Faramir
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Lothiriel folded the letter closed carefully, and clutched it to her as she ran toward the house.
"Alert the men. We ride to Minas Tirith in one week's time," she said, as she swiftly ran to the library to set the house to order before her departure.
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Okay, so that last attempt at scene breaking didn't work. Here's an edited version, yet again. Let's hope the scene breaks show up this time! =)
I have written a lot of this story already, so updates should occur frequently. However, I'm withholding each piece, just for kicks (hehehe, yeah, I'm evil). Oh, and I'll be away on vacation this week, so I don't know whether or not I will be able to update then. I'll be taking my laptop, but internet connections at my place of stay are uncertain at this moment, so sorry in advance for any delays.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, Lord of the Rings, etc, etc.
Prologue
Lothiriel of Dol Amroth sat serenely staring out into the sea. It had been weeks, nay, months since her father and elder brothers rode off to serve their country during these dark and treacherous times. At the time, she had protested greatly, proclaiming that if she was not allowed to go and fight for her country, she would fling herself into the sea from disgrace and grief. That is, until her cousin Faramir gently took her arm and led her outside for a walk.
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"Lothiriel," Faramir began, but was duly interrupted by the frustrated princess.
"Faramir, this is ridiculous! First, I lost mother, and now am I to lose the only kin I have left on this earth? Am I to sit here and wait in idleness until a rider, sent by your father, races to Dol Amroth to bear the news that will be my undoing? And you are to leave as well! Is it not bad enough that I lost Boromir to this stupid war! Am I to lose you as well? You, who has understood me above all others and stood by me even when my brothers and father did not?" she yelled in frustration, tears threatening to fall on her face.
"Lothiriel," Faramir whispered softly. "It is to be this way. My father calls on his family to bring glory to our people. To Gondor. Your father, brothers, and I do not cherish leaving you here. In fact, we cannot bear to part with you. However, we have a duty to uphold, and I would not risk losing you, too. You are more my sister than Boromir ever was brother to me, and I could not survive the thought of thinking you in harm's way. Make this sacrifice for Gondor. For your father and brothers. If not for them, do it for me, the brother who loves and understands you best." Lothiriel simply looked up at her cousin and sobbed, her heart broken. Faramir stood there, supporting her until she was ready to forfeit her tears.
"I am finished," she said quietly. "Forgive me of my outburst. It was selfishly and foolishly done."
"There is nothing to forgive, Lothiriel, and it is best that you have gotten that over and done with. You would not have your brothers tease you for being such a crybaby, would you?" he teased in his playful tone.
"No, it would not do me well if their last thoughts of me were ill," she said with quiet resolve, as she bravely took his arm and walked back to the house, determined not to cry at the sight of all she held dear racing away towards Minas Tirith to their certain deaths.
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A rider sped toward the house at great speed, bearing a flag of Gondor. Lothiriel caught sight of him just as he emerged from the forest bordering the palace and skidded to the front door at an abrupt stop. "What news do you bear?" she asked anxiously as she flung open the heavy doors to her home.
"I bear a letter from Mithrandir, the White Wizard," he said, as she handed her the missive.
"I thank you kindly for your troubles. Please, take your rest from your strenuous journey, for I have seen that you have ridden hard through the night to bring me this news." With that, Lothiriel asked a servant to lead the exhausted messenger from Minas Tirith to a guest room, and saw to it that an extra place setting was to be added at the evening meal. Then, with great excitement and trepidation, she ran from the palace by the sea toward the beach and sat down on her favorite rock to read the latest news from Gondor's capital.
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My Dear Lady Lothiriel, Princess of Dol Amroth,
The following is a missive from your cousin, Faramir, son of Denethor the late Steward of Gondor. Injured in a brave defense of Osgiliath and Minas Tirith, he lies in bed still with no proper use of his arm. Therefore, at his request, it is my hand that pens his words.
Dearest Lothiriel,
Worry not at my condition, for I am quickly on the mend. What Gandalf says is true-I was injured in battle. However, 'twas only a minor skirmish and I sit here in the Houses of Healing, weary of keeping to my bed!
The race of men, it seems, is not doomed to fail. When I see your face again, I shall tell you in person of the great and perilous journey and those involved. I only write to bring you news of the state of your country, and more importantly, your family.
Gondor, aided by the Riders of Rohan, helped destroy the forces of evil marching upon our city. Rohan, whom we all thought had forsaken our friendship as much as we had forsaken theirs, rode to our rescue at much great cost. King Theoden of Rohan lies in rest, at the hands of the Witch- King, slain by his brave and beautiful niece Eowyn, who followed her uncle into battle disguised as a Rider. I know what you shall think of at this piece of news, but I would have you know that it has made my heart much lighter to know that my favorite little cousin is safely tucked away in her home and did not follow us into war.
Your father was injured in battle, also, but fares well. Your brothers fare well also. Elphir, Amrothos, and Echirion join your father in council with the soon-to-be-crowned King Elessar, Isildor's heir.
And now I come to ask you a request. As you are now aware of the end of this miserable war, you will, no doubt, hop on the next available horse and ride hard to the gates of Minas Tirith. I must beg you to stay where you are. However, I am sure that you are as much weary keeping to the house as I am keeping to my miserable bed! Therefore, I am a man willing to compromise, so long as word of this letter never reaches your father's ear- I am sure he will end my life if it is ever made known that I willingly gave his only daughter permission to leave the safety of Dol Amroth and venture to the dangers of Minas Tirith.
If you choose to join us, you are to take the whole of the small army your father left for your protection, save twenty men to guard the palace. When you leave, you are to pack lightly. Take nothing you cannot carry with you on your horse, for you have several belongings here at your father's quarters in Minas Tirith which I am sure will be most serviceable to your needs. You are to leave early in the morning, when the sun is not yet up, and ride hard for the gates of Minas Tirith. If you follow my instruction, you shall be here before the sun sinks back behind the mountains. You are not to leave Dol Amroth until the messenger I sent you is recovered enough to make the journey. Therefore, I expect you exactly one week from the arrival of my letter. I have already quietly informed the guards at the city gates. They shall let you in with little trouble. And Lothiriel, although immediate danger has passed, be on your guard always, and take your sword!
I shall see you in a week's time, and until then, I wait for your arrival. May you have a swift and safe journey through Gondor.
Your cousin, who sends you all the love in the world, Faramir
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Lothiriel folded the letter closed carefully, and clutched it to her as she ran toward the house.
"Alert the men. We ride to Minas Tirith in one week's time," she said, as she swiftly ran to the library to set the house to order before her departure.
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Okay, so that last attempt at scene breaking didn't work. Here's an edited version, yet again. Let's hope the scene breaks show up this time! =)