March 3019
"My Lady are you quite sure you need all these trunks?" Meldis shouted from the depths of a vast closet. The matron was hurriedly packing dresses, shoes and various trinkets that her lady may need on the long journey to Minas Tirith. The faithful woman was in a terrible state as the dispatches had only just arrived, informing the Princess and her party to make haste to Gondor; the war of the ring was over and peace had returned to Middle Earth.
"Meldis, this is the event we have all been waiting for. Peace! Finally; wonderful, glorious peace, and I expect to enjoy every moment of it." The vivacious Princess grabbed her maid by the hands, kissed her forehead and danced circles around her as she cried joyfully, "So yes I need all these trunks. I intend to dance all night so must have my finest clothes." The young woman began helping her maid choose all the things she wanted and watched as she carefully folded and packed them neatly in the nearby trunk.
Down in the courtyard, the knights and their squires were working fast to prepare the horses and packs ready for the journey ahead. Berian, the senior captain of the guard was busy giving orders and organising the stable boys, furriers and smithies, "Orophin! Make sure the provisions are packed tightly. Earendur are the shelters ready for camp?"
"Yes Sir! The stewards rode ahead at dawn and I've received word they are pitched and ready for our arrival." The young man replied.
As the flurry of people went about their business a cloaked man, carrying a staff and an air of arrogance, traversed down the courtyard steps with ease. The way he dressed surpassed his apparent superiority; his cloak was heavily embroidered with thread and jewels – in the fashion of a noble; his robe and jerkin displayed the seal of the Prince; and on his right hand he bore a large sapphire ring.
"Berian! Where is the Princess?" the dignitary demanded.
Berian turned on his heel when he saw who it was, "Lord Gûradan," he greeted respectfully, "she is on her way now my lord; are we readied?"
"I believe so. I asked for dispatches to be sent this morning informing his lordship and the King of our arrival, did they go as expected?" he drawled.
"I believe so!" the soldier replied. Berian had never cared for the haughty advisor, he knew he kept the Prince's ear but he questioned the man's motives and determination to elevate himself through Imrahil's status.
"Very good! I am eager to get our journey underway and arrive in good time at the white city. Send a page to hurry her highness along."
"Yes my lord."
Berian took the courtyard steps two at a time as his stride would allow. No sooner than he had gone half way when from the great wooden doors came the princess, her maid and seven pages; each one laden with enormous heavy trunks. The last one carried between two of the poor lads, both who looked like their limbs were about to fail on them.
Lothiriel skipped down the courtyard steps with the energy of a teenager. As she went by Berian, he bowed his head as a sign of respect, with which she replied with a giggle and called out,
"Morning Berian."
He watched her reach the bottom most steps, shook his head and couldn't help but smile to himself. He had known the princess since her birth some twenty years earlier; her arrival should have sparked joy and festivities in Dol Amroth but that did not happen; as her mother departed this world as she entered into it. Despite the absence of mothers guidance Lothiriel had become a handsome young woman with a charming disposition, who was always kind to those around her.
Meldis came up beside him and gave him a sideways look,
"What am I going to do with her?" She asked despairingly.
Berian looked at her both quizzically and with respect, "I believe you have done very well with her My Lady."
Meldis blushed, noticeably to Berian although he did not let her know it. He nodded, gestured for her to lead on, then followed her down the stairs. The middle-aged woman followed her lady down the steps giving the pages their orders to strap the trunks securely on the back of Lothiriel's carriage.
As Lothiriel reached the final step she was greeted by Gûradan , who bent into a sycophantic bow, "Ah good morning Princess, you look lovely this morning. I trust you slept well? Are you ready to go?"
"You don't have to pander to me Gûradan, I am not my father." She quipped back. "Yes, I am ready to go and eager to see my family again – as I'm sure you are too!"
"But of course your highness, t'will not be long, only three days ride." He answered trying to sound enthusiastic.
"Only three days? Tell me then, why are you are so keen my Lord? Surely with my father's return he will ensure you continue with your" she hesitated, "previous duties."
Since the Prince and his sons had left for Gondor some two months past, the governing of Dol Amroth should have been left to his remaining child, but as she was not of age, Imrahil had left his royal council to aide her. However, during that time Gûradan had lost sight of the fact that his role was to advise the princess, and had begun ordering others as if he was sovereign.
"Of course my lady," He retorted, "Come, let us depart."
Gûradan offered his hand to the princess. She took it resentfully. It was one thing to speak to him as she had just done in private, but to publically snub him in front of the knights, squires and indeed the entire court would have been discourteous. Lothiriel climbed the two steps into the carriage and settled herself on the cushioned bench. Meldis followed suit without the help of the advisor.
"Meldis, I cannot wait to see my brothers and father again, I am so excited!" The young princess hugged the arm of her maid, and rest her head on Meldis's shoulder.
"As am I your highness, as am I." Meldis sounded troubled as she spoke, but either Lothiriel had missed it or chose not the listen, for fear of dampening her own spirits; the truth was they were finally going to join Imrahil, join the King and join in with the celebrations of Middle Earth.
