Chapter 3

Dol Amroth

Autumn 3009

The morning of Lothíriel's departure came quickly. Erchirion and Elphir stood next to her on the small vessel that would travel up the Anduin towards Minas Tirith. Prince Imrahil had agreed that Erchirion should join Lothíriel in Rivendell and at the last minute decided that Elphir would accompany them as far as Minas Tirith so as to see his uncle and cousins, Boromir and Faramir. Imrahil had heard news of the shadow growing in the east and that even now, from the walls of the White City, one could see the darkness. It was rumored that very shadow had haunted Lothíriel's aunt who had been Denethor's wife, Finduilas, to her dying day.

The day was warm as Lothíriel looked out on the deck towards the dwindling figures of her family on the docks. She took a deep breath of salty air, wondering when next she would see her home. To her left stood Erchirion, his face showing he had similar feelings of regret, except he looked as if he was also excited. She smiled at him as she recognized his desire to explore the world around him. If it was safe, she thought, he would have left Dol Amroth years ago in search of books covering all different subjects, rare and common alike. He met her eyes and smiled warmly to his little sister.

"Just think," he gestured to the north, "In a few short weeks, we will arrive in Rivendell and be in the company of Elves. Think of the possibilities. Think of the books!" He laughed and combed his fingers through his hair like he always did when he started to think of a new research topic. Lothíriel turned around and spotted Elphir, his expression one of amusement at his brother's enthusiasm, though she knew he would be keeping a watchful eye on the shores and surrounding waters for anything amiss. The guards that had come along with them had been handpicked not only by their father, but by Elphir himself. They would not allow anything to happen to Prince Imrahil's children.

Lothíriel turned away from the sea and walked over to Elphir who only looked down at her briefly but put his hand on her shoulder, holding her close. "What am I going to do with myself when I am not chasing after you, little sister?"

Lothíriel looked up at him and felt tears spring to her eyes. Blinking furiously she tried to compose herself. She did not want to be a sniveling wreck when she had only so much time with her eldest brother. Without a word, she simply hugged him tightly before pulling away from his embrace. She felt tired and emotional; it would be better to rest now when the sun was high in the sky, baking the deck. Walking to her cabin, she turned her face towards Minas Tirith – It would only be two or three days on this boat and then she would be on a horse for nearly two months. She was glad she was a fairly good rider, but she had no doubts that such a lengthy journey would take its toll one way or another. Taking a deep breath of the salty air once more, she sighed and entered into the cool of the cabin.

Minas Tirith

Autumn 3009

The white walls loomed above her as they approached the City. She had only been to Minas Tirith once before when she had been four years old and she hardly remembered the trip. Lothíriel remembered playing in the palace gardens with her cousins. They would play hide and seek and she had always won because of how quietly she was able to walk. Her father had said that the ability to walk quieter than the breeze that blew through trees was a gift that she had been blessed with by Ilúvatar. She had used it to her advantage in every game that required stealth. She smiled at the memory before turning her attention back to her horse.

The bay gelding walked smoothly, his gait sure and steady. He had been a parting gift from her father a few days before they had left. Lothíriel had spent nearly every waking moment that she hadn't already focused on packing to her new mount. She had picked out what she felt was a suitable name for such a proud being – Hazelfal. She was glad Aunt Ivriniel had fought for her to be able to ride astride to Rivendell. Her father had begun to insist that Lothíriel should ride properly like a true lady of Gondor before her aunt had stepped in. Lothíriel could only imagine how uncomfortable traveling would be if she had to ride side saddle.

As they passed the gates, Lothíriel – working to look every bit the princess she was – had to focus on keeping her mouth shut. She could clearly see the work of the Princes of Númenor in the stone work. Each one fit perfectly into the next as if they were not separate blocks but whole and impenetrable. In the lower levels there were several people bustling about their business. Shops and stalls stood open, beckoning to prospective customers. Smells of food, that were being prepared, filled Lothíriel's nose, causing a rogue rumble to escape her stomach. People made way but did nothing to hide their stares at the city's newest arrivals. Lothíriel felt a flush rush onto her cheeks as she noticed several children of her age pointing and laughing, inviting her with silent signals to join them in whatever game they were playing. She was tempted to dismount and spend time enjoying herself with other children but Erchirion must have anticipated her desire. He steered his horse beside hers, cutting off the view of the children and guided her through the next levels.

As they climbed higher, Lothíriel noticed that there were fewer and fewer people moving about in the streets. The loud rumble of conversation disappeared and was replaced with a heavy silence. By the time they reached their home on the sixth level of the city, the only noise they heard was from their horses' hooves. Dismounting from Hazelfal, she declined from handing the reins to the stable boy, instead choosing to look after her own horse. It was her belief that a horse would bond more with the one who looked after almost all of their needs, and Lothíriel really felt the need for a friend in this lonely, quiet place.

Once she had finished with Hazelfal, she went up to her chamber where one of the housemaids helped her with her bath and dressed her for her meal with her uncle and cousins. She had picked a sea-foam green dress that brought out the gray of her eyes. Stepping in front of the mirror she smoothed her dress and studied her hair. She had chosen to wear it loose to show off the dark tresses that fell down her back. Nodding to her image in the mirror, satisfied she looked her best, she made her way down the steps.

Immediately she was greeted enthusiastically by Boromir and Faramir. They rushed forward and began to comment on how much she had grown since they had last seen her. She beamed with pride when Boromir noted that she looked every bit like her mother as he escorted her to her seat in the dining room. Before she could take a seat she had to be presented to her uncle. Lord Denethor was a solemn looking man at the best of times. Lothíriel shuddered to think how he was when he was upset by anything. He studied her calmly before he nodded.

"Good evening, Princess of Dol Amroth." His voice was deeper than she had remembered. She was a bit surprised that he had used her formal title. She had been taught that it was proper to respond in kind so she made a deep bow.

"My Lord Steward," her eyes met the floor until his fingers gently curled themselves and turned her face upwards.

"Rise, daughter of Gondor." He smiled at her before taking a seat in front of her, allowing her eyes to be level with his own. "It is good to see you again after so many years. You have matured much, though it is quite clear you are still a child. Although that does have it's own charm." His smile widened as he pulled something out of his robes. "I have something for you, my dear." He held it up and she saw it was a large, silver circlet. It was fairly simple with only a thin, twisting braid. The only jewel it had was a white circle that was in the center. The metal dipped to it so that if it were to be placed on her head, it would fall directly in the middle of her forehead. The back was not connected so as to be adjustable. Lothíriel turned her eyes away from the circlet and returned them to her uncle's who was watching her expectantly.

"It's beautiful, Uncle," Lothíriel started forgetting the formality for a moment. "Why are you showing it to me?" She silently tried to measure its circumference to no avail.

"It is for you to wear, Lothíriel. You will wear it from now on while in Minas Tirith. It will help anyone who doesn't know about your gift to pay you special deference. Here, let me help you put it on." Lothíriel dipped her head at his indication and he fitted the circlet around her head easily. It was heavier than the size implied and the gemstone in the center was as cold as death. When she raised her head back up he nodded his approval and beckoned for Faramir to see her to her seat beside him.

After she was seated she looked to her brothers. Both of their faces held the same look of discomfort, but she didn't know why. She reached up and touched the gemstone on her forehead. It had not warmed at all even several minutes after wearing it. It was like a perfect circle of ice. Her uncle made note of her expression before she could school it and looked at her cooly for a few minutes. Gathering up her courage she spoke.

"Uncle, where did you find this circlet? It is very odd that it is so cold in the center." She smiled at him gently. She shuffled her food around on her plate a bit, unable to put any to her mouth a strange empty feeling in the pit of her stomach taking away her appetite. Lord Denethor quickly stuffed some strips of meat into his mouth and swallowed before turning to answer her query.

"I had it made for you, my dear. The stone is quartz and the metal is a rich silver. I have been told that many fortune tellers use quartz to help them see into the future. I found it to be fitting that you have such a jewel. As to why it does not heat, I do not know. I did request that the Wizard Gandalf bless it and he directed me to Wizard Saruman who was more than happy to help as soon as I told him of your sight. He did say in his letter with the jewel that it should help to clarify the visions. I do not know how. Perhaps it has something to do with that." He finished his speech to her and turned to Boromir and began a heated conversation with him on how he was planning his next strike against their enemies. After their meal had concluded, Lothíriel stood to excuse herself. She felt very tired and knew that she would need to be rested for the lengthy trip they had ahead of them. But as she bowed to her uncle one last time, he stopped her. "I would speak with you of your trip into Rohan. You will be stopping in Edoras, will you not?"

Lothíriel opened her mouth, but Erchirion appeared at her side and began to speak in place of her. "Our route takes us from Edoras to the gap of Rohan. Father has sent messengers ahead and we have received missives that we can expect an escort from the Riders of Rohan so long as we are in their country. After Rohan we will be escorted by Elladan and Elohir, Lord Elrond's two sons, to Rivendell where Imladris lies. Father feels it to be right to stay for as long as Lord Elrond deems Lothíriel needs to be tutored." He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. Lothíriel looked up to her brother for a moment, concerned as to what was bothering him so much. "Now, I believe that my little sister is tired from all the excitement of seeing the city. So I will see her to bed." He bowed to their uncle and quickly ushered Lothíriel out of the room towards her chamber.

"Although you would have no way of knowing this, Uncle is acting very strange. I do not know why. I believe it would be for the best if we were to leave as early as possible tomorrow so as to spend as little time in his company as feasible." His words were hushed and as he spoke his eyes watched the shadows and corners of the halls and rooms they passed. Lothíriel looked up to her brother and nodded, not fully understanding what it was that made him distrust their uncle who had so readily welcomed them into the city.

They continued the rest of the way in silence until they arrived at Lothíriel's door. Erchirion pulled Lothíriel into his arms and kissed the top of her head, just as her father would have, had he been there. Lothíriel felt tears welling up in her eyes as a feeling of homesickness overwhelmed her, but she swiftly blinked them away and bid her brother good night.

Lothíriel and Erchirion woke before dawn and were just finishing their breakfast when Elphir arrived at their table. He did not seem surprised that the two had awoken so early on the day of their departure. Lothíriel stood and walked towards her brother and hugged him. He quickly accepted the embrace and stroked her hair.

"Oh, little sister, I will miss you so much. I know that you will be safe so long as you are in the company of Lord Elrond's house. I wish I could join you and help you throughout your tutelage. But I am confident you will excel everyone's expectations and return to us educated in everything you need know as a proper princess of Dol Amroth, and more." Elphir smiled at her as he let her go. She nodded at him, the words caught in her throat.

Erchirion came up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "We should be leaving very soon. I would like to leave before Uncle wakes. You will give our excuses to him, Brother?"

Elphir nodded and Lothíriel was swiftly guided out of the hall towards the stables. She did not need to change her clothing as she had chosen to wear her riding habit to breakfast. The material was a bright yellow like the early morning sun. Her leggings were a dark leather and her boots came up to her knees. Her long hair was plaited against her head so as to stay out of her face. When she got to the stables she looked at her beautiful gelding. Hazelfal was already saddled and the saddlebags with her clothing and other necessities were already strapped on. Everything was ready for her. Elphir helped her mount Hazelfal and held her hand for a long moment as he looked up to his younger sister. He did not speak and his face was stoic as he let go and turned back to the house.

Erchirion urged his mount out of the stables and Lothíriel swiftly followed. She turned her face towards the sky and felt a small breeze caress her cheeks. Soon she would be traveling to the land of the horselords. The thought of the strange lands before her sent a feeling of trepidation and excitement throughout her. Moving her focus back to the path directly ahead, she followed her brother out of the city and onto the Pelennor fields. She turned back one last time to lay eyes upon the fair white city. She wondered how long it would be until she would return to her homeland.