Chapter One

A Promise made:

the King, the Queen, the Minstrel and the Baby

An eagerness descended upon the awaiting Noldor. They whispered, and looked around, wide-eyed. Eager for the ceremony to start.

No one knew the Queen had been expecting. There were strange rumours- in fact, people were certain, years ago, that she was expecting. But Gil-Galad, High King of the elves of Middle-Earth and King of the Noldor, insisted the rumours were false.

But soon the strangest, most beautiful flowers sprung from the earth. They were pure gold, or silver, and shaped like stars. Like pimpernels but much bigger. Maidens and children alike squealed in awe and eagerly ran to gather them. They called them elanor, meaning 'sun-star'.

And just as they sprung, the very same day, the birth of a princess was announced to everyone's amazement.

Of course, in all the excitement no one bothered to wonder why in the world this birth was so similar to Lúthien's birth, when the nipherdils first burst through the green forest floors of Nan Elmoth.

But a few weeks later, there they were at the Essecarme, the elaborate Naming Ceremony for the High King's heir- or heiress to be precise- and the grandchild was Findekáno or Fingon the Valiant and- controversially- Nelyafinwë or Maedhros the Tall.

This was unusual.

He father of the infant, Ereinion, called Gil-Galad by the Sindar, was the son of Fingon, but some said he was the son of Orodreth. Personally, it was likely he was the son of the former. He resembled Fingon most, in terms of appearance and courage.

But Estela, the mother was another matter entirely. Her heritage caused her to be hidden away, her existence kept a closely-guarded secret, until it was finally revealed. By then a legendary shieldmaiden and a powerful warrior, the daughter of the dreaded and formidable courageous Warrior Prince, the Fëanorion Maedhros the Tall, one of the few warriors to have ever died undefeated, Estela herself had been undefeated and could not deny her heritage.

And there she was. Gowned in lustrous emerald silk, embroidered with silvery diamonds and adamants. Her delicate circlet of mithril and adamants rested gracefully upon her head, and was the only thing that bound her hair: the colour of burnished copper with her mother's Telerin silver and gold shot through which made the colour even more stunning. It was in gentle waves and loose curls and fell to her waist, as it was a celebration not a battle she was going to, but with golden flowers twisted in some sections of her hair.

Estela held a bundle in her arms- an outstandingly beautiful girl. Some people gave gasps as they beheld the beauty of the infant. The little girl had a lush down of hair so deep a black, the mere colour was shiny, due to capturing and reflecting the light back infinitely. She had a sweet heart-shaped face, like her mother's with the most delicate features anyone had ever seen. Her skin was smooth and so exquisitely fair- or pale- that it glowed silvery, making the purest snow seem dirty. Her eyes caught everyone's attention. They were a large almond, framed with thick, long black lashes, and violet. Richer and brighter than amethyst gems.

Everyone was in awe. A more extremely beautiful child was never seen even by the Eldar. Although this was seen in every elf- she was beautiful, even by elven standards.

As was the mother. And one member of the audience was more aware of that than he would like others to think.

The Queen was so radiant that night, her exquisite, delicate hands held the baby. Her radiance filled his vision with pain.

Vorondo, the famed minstrel and follower of Queen Estela drank deeply through his goblet.

Throughout the ceremony, he kept his pained eyes upon the queen.

But though no one else noticed, Estela's eyes suddenly found his. They made emeralds looked cloudy or plain by comparison. She wanted to speak with him- privately.

Vorondo knew her well enough. But he never won her heart. In fact she had not the slightest clue about his feelings.

Estela gave the tiny bundle to her husband and moved out of the hall. He knew she wanted him to follow her.

Making excuses, the queen finally found herself in a side-room with Vorondo.

Vorondo bowed. "My friend, you know you do not need to do that." Estela said.

Vorondo gave a thin smile.

"My friend you have followed me for so long now," Estela said. Once again he was filled with her radiance. Her alabaster skin glowed, seemingly translucent and smooth. The hair framed her face and figure like a rich halo, but her piercing emerald eyes looked worried, as were her delicate features.

"Vorondo," she sighed. "My dearest friend. I never knew why you stayed with me for so long instead of simply returning to your people or going wherever you wished to go."

Because I will always love you, he said silently, although he did not tell her out loud. Estela's face was clouded with concern, worry and sadness. "What is it my Queen?"

Estela looked pained. She was paler than normal, he realised. And she looked sick with fear and worry. That startled him. Her courage was outmatched only by her skill, intelligence and loveliness. It wasn't even bias.

"You have followed me for so long, been a joy to me when there was none, and yet I must ask you to do this one last thing." She shook her head. "It's not right. Yet I have no choice."

Dread filled Vorondo like a tub. "What?" He whispered hoarsely, dreading what she would say. "What is it?" He resisted the instinct to hold her close- just that once. She belonged to another.

"Vorondo," she began. "When I was carrying my daughter, I had disturbing dreams and visions, especially as Elrond and Galadriel have both told me that this child is a seeress so I could see more clearly. The second Dark Lord, Sauron has placed a curse on our lines: my husband's and mine: the House of Finwë."

Vorondo gasped, his face turned white. The House of Finwë, was the royal family of Gil-Galad and Estela.

Estela stepped closer to him, desperately. "You know that of all the creatures of Middle-Earth none are hated first by Morgoth then by Sauron more than the elves. And of all the elves there are none they hate more than the line of Finwë. They have decided that as long as the powers of darkness exist, none of our blood shall be safe. I fear that soon, not long, both Ereinion and I shall fall in battle," she said calling her husband by his true name, not his epessë.

"No, do not say that" Vorondo cried. The queen hushed him. "I will not hear it!"

"Calm yourself my friend," she instructed him. "But if, and only if it happens, please, I must beg of you, to take my child."

Vorondo stared.

"What? My Queen-"

"Please," she begged him. "Please. Or else all would be lost."

She took a deep breath. "Whether or not it happens," Estela went on "I need you to promise me something so that Sauron will never win. If they are determined our line shall fall, of which I and my husband are inheritors. That means that evil will have gained a great deal in this world. For over more than two millennia our family have fought tirelessly against evil. I need you to promise me, that should Ereinion and I fall in battle-"

"Please!" Vorondo cried. Estela sighed. "If it should happen," she continued. "Please, Vorondo. You know of all the races of Arda, none are more hated by Morgoth, then Sauron, than the elves. And out of the elves, none are more hated by them, than the House of Finwë."

He gazed with anguish at her beautiful face. He could not imagine life without this fierce, courageous beauty, not now that he had known her, even if she could never love him back.

"If it happens," Estela continued. "I need you to promise me, without telling even your closest and most trusted of friends and confidants- for even then word might get out somehow- that you will enter into my daughter Vanimelda's nursery and spirit her away." He stared at her.

"I am a shieldmaiden, Vorondo," she smiled sadly. "And my husband is a warrior as well as a king. The Lady Galadriel has foreseen- and she is not mistaken- that the time of the Noldor is coming to an end. Should we fall in battle, as many will either be slain, fade, or leave for Valinor, our people will not stay in Middle-Earth forever. There will not be enough of us for a ruler to wear a crown. Therefore you must spirit her away- wait so that when her absence is noticed you will not be suspected."

"But what about the others?" he said. "Is there none we can trust with her safety?"

"It is not a matter of trust," the queen said. "But word always spreads and it is better not to wait. And if you are afraid of being discovered, I have made for you a harp- a large one but easily carried, especially by an elf. It is hollow inside. She will be able to fit inside until she gets older. But you must only let her out when there are no others for leagues around. Please Vorondo, you must promise me, to keep her safe and love her as I do, and as I would if I were still here, if we are slain."

Vornondo swallowed and nodded, unable to speak. His eyes filled with tears and the woman he secretly harboured a burning love for so long, hugged him. "I will my Queen," he said. "I promise."

And then, years later, Vanimelda still a toddler, news of the Queen's death reached Lindon- and the High King. The hysteria, the outpouring of grief, and heartbreak rang through the lands.

So Vorondo snuck into the nursery as soon as he heard when the little child was still asleep, and carried her safely out. He hid her in the harp as her mother had instructed and after they opened up the city gates once more after the frantic, fruitless search, everyone bid farewell to the grief-stricken Vorondo- whom they suspected had been in love with the queen- who carried a huge harp across his back.

This is a sequel to Shielmaiden

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for my OCs- Vanimelda, the peasants, Vorondo, and Estela.