Nai!
Aine Yavanna, cen ya en laiqa
Loa sinome alata a aman
In ilya iire…
May it be.
Holy Yavanna, watch over this green
Grow in this place joyful and blessed
For all eternity…
STAND AMONGST THE TREES
By Jashi
N O T E: I do not own Lord of the Rings. Lothiriel is not a made-up character, she is Éomer's wife and mother of Elfwine. Lothiriel is also daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, she is Dunedain (technically). Please enjoy, no flames, and I implore you to review!
UNE
The morning was gloomy, and dark with heavy, grey clouds that crowded the sky. The sky was so crowded in fact, that there were no spaces where a little light could shine over the lands, it was only a thick, unending blanket of dim cloud. It was so early in the morning that the sun had just begun to show the top of its golden orb…only one could not tell because of the clouds.
Lothí riel of Dol Amroth watched from atop a tower on the fortress, the one that faced the great country called Gondor, east of Dol Amroth.
The wind was strong that day, and she surveyed the land around the castle. The trees were tall, dark green were the leaves as they stretched towards the bleak sky. She almost wanted to sigh with sadness, for she had spent nearly all of her childhood and time here taking care of those trees, Dol Amroth was not a place for a gardener to grow flowers. So Lothíriel daughter of a Prince, daughter of the Dunedain, had put her talents to good use, and tended trees that nearly blocked Dol Amroth from all sight.
She would be leaving the trees, soon. She had left the Amroth before, but not much in recent years. Locked in a fortress with a terrible keeper while Sauron began to eat Middle-Earth alive. She'd helped protect Dol Amroth during those few years, yes, she had, and with all her strength and skill. It had come to good ends, and bad, as all things did. Mostly bad.
"Lothíriel." her father's voice was warm, warm and light like the sun that was absent from the sky that day.
"Saes, adar?" she asked in return. Yes, father?
"We leave soon." he came and stood next to her on the tower.
Lothíriel smiled. Minas Tirith was where her greatest friend Éowyn resided for the moment with her husband Faramir. They had met years ago, when both were seventeen and Theoden came to visit Dol Amroth.
She hadn't to Rohan, ever. And this was not where she was going, either. For Minas Tirith, the great city of Gondor, with it's pure white towers, was where she was headed.
No longer would she stand amongst the trees.
Lothíriel shook her head. She made it sound as though she was never coming back. Her father placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Come," he said, "we leave now."
"Must I ride in the carriage?" she asked, her eyes imploring. Imrahil laughed.
"Do you ever?" he said, a twinkle in his eye.
"Nay."
"You sound like a horse, daughter."
"Thanks ever so, Adar."
"You're welcome."
Lothíriel laughed, and asked, "I'll take Strongvoice if you don't mind terribly."
"Why would I? The hostlers will be so pleased that the loudest horse in the history of Middle-Earth will be gone for a month or two!" Imrahil chuckled.
"Hey, I trained him to be very silent when I asked."
"'Hey' is for horses, Lothíriel." he said with an amused voice.
"You just said I sounded like one!"
"That I did."
"And besides," the Princess of Dol Amroth protested, "he's so useful when one wants to scare someone off, or alert someone…"
"I'll remember that next time I get wounded in a battle with him."
"Do you think they'll be that many more?" Lothíriel wondered.
Imrahil shrugged. "I do not know."
The two fell silent for a moment, and then Imrahil pulled his daughter away from the ledge.
"We leave in the next hour. Come now, don't grieve over your trees. It's very unlike you."
"I wasn't."
The Prince smiled.
"Of course not."
Lothíriel fastened the bridle into place on Strongvoice's proud head. The dark horse threw his head back and winnied, and the sound was deafening.
"Strongvoice, quiet." Lothíriel said sternly, but she smiled. "I know you're excited, you fool of a horse."
The horse bowed his head quietly, and she began to lead him out to the front. Imrahil was getting in the small carriage along with the luggage. The Princess of Dol Amroth smiled and hoisted herself up onto Strongvoice. She wore her riding dress, and a cloak, all in dark shades of black and grey.
Strongvoice was a tall, dauntless black horse with the deafening cry that could extremely useful and excruciatingly annoying.
The driver of her father's small carriage pushed the horses on, and she nudged Strongvoice on.
They went along faster than usual, because it looked like rain. At night, they stopped at an inn, and the traveled all the next day. Lothíriel was extremely bored if not exhausted from the pace they were going. But she kept her head high and Strongvoice under control.
In the evening of the third day, the driver spotted Minas Tirith.
"Ah! The White City awaits, Lady." he spoke to her.
Lothíriel's heart brightened immeasurably, and she rapped on the carriage window. Imrahil opened it a crack.
"May I ride ahead, Adar?" she implored, and she could feel Strongvoice sensing the approach of their destination.
Imrahil closed his eyes in amusement and nodded.
Strongvoice let out his loud cry once again, and Lothíriel nudged him towards Gondor's great city. He began to gallop almost immediately and Lothíriel let out a very un-ladylike whoop of joy.
Éomer looked out of the tower window at the fading sun, the colors were of a soft brilliance, and he was content watching them. You could see all of Minas Tirith from here…it was a perfect watchman's tower.
As he stared out at the fading sky, he something caught his eye.
A figure on a great, dark horse was riding towards the city…no, Aragorn's towering castle at a gallop. The hood fell back to reveal a head full of dark brown hair. The horse and rider approached the doors, and if Éomer looked straight down, he could see them. Filled with curiosity as they slowed, he called down to them.
"Who are you to come to this great city?!" he yelled down, half-hanging out of the window.
The head looked up at him and Éomer was taken aback for the figure was a woman.
"I am Lothíriel Dú nadan of Dol Amroth!" she called back to him.
Éomer ducked back out of the window and realized that the Dol Amrothians were here.
He opened the door and ran straight into Éowyn.
"Oh, sister. Your friend from Dol Amroth is here." he motioned to the outside.
Éowyn's eyes widened and she dropped what she was carrying.
"Lothíriel?" she gasped and turned on her heel to run towards the great doors.
~
To be continued…
