The Lady of Gondor
The Lady Arwen stood by the tomb of Aragorn, High King of Gondor, and heir to Isildor. Always, in her heart of hearts, Arwen had known this day would come. Unable to give her immortality away completely, she was now faced with one thousands years alone with her grief.
200 Years Later
Aryann gazed out of the classroom window, bored out of her skull. The history teacher was droning on and on about something, but Ary had stopped listening fifteen minutes ago. As she looked over the glistening towers of the white city, Aryann realized how little the city of Minas Tirith had changed since the War of the Ring. A bell sounded, and Aryann joined the rest of the students in leaping from their desks and leaving the classroom with the teacher shouting last minute homework instructions. Outside in the hall Ary ran to catch up with her friends Maxamillian and Deborah.
"Max! Deb! Wait for me!" she shouted, dodging through the crowded school hallway.
Max, a tall blond hair boy with stormy gray eyes, stopped and turned to wait for Ary, grabbing the arm of Deb. Deb glared quickly at him, brown eyes flashing.
"Ary hurry up!" she yelled, pushing fiery red hair out of her face.
Ary ran up next to them, and the three friends left the building.
Deborah kicked a rock as the threesome walked through the winding streets of Minas Tirith.
"How long till you've got to go back to Edoras, Max?" she asked.
Max counted silently for a moment before answering.
"About two weeks," he said slowly.
Ary made a face.
"I wish you didn't have to go back," she said. "Things'll be really boring without you around."
Max nodded slightly.
"Yeah, but I miss Edoras. Don't get me wrong, Minas Tirith is a great place, but it's just a little to close quartered for my tastes. Besides, I miss my horses."
Deborah laughed.
"We noticed. Starting last week that's all you'd talk about," she said.
Max shrugged.
"I guess its part of being from Rohan. A love of horses is engrained into your head pretty much from birth. Not that I mind," he added quickly.
Ary chuckled. Max was quite the character. She and Deborah had met him two years ago when he had first started coming to school in Minas Tirith. His parents had wanted him to go to the best school in Middle Earth, and the School for Young Gentlemen and Ladies was one of the best. Although it meant that Max had to spend the school year in the White City away from his family, his parents thought that it was worth it. But now that the school year was ending again, Max was going to go back to Edoras, while Ary and Deborah went back to their homes just outside the city. Deborah looked up at Max and Ary, a mischievous gleam in her eye.
"Max, since you'll be goin' back to Edoras soon, what say we go see the Lady of Gondor?" she said.
Max raised an eyebrow.
"I thought she wasn't real," he replied.
Ary shook her head.
"Oh, she's real enough. See, when she died, the people of Minas Tirith and all Gondor were incredibly sad. They loved their queen a lot. And some say that she's still here, wandering the forests outside the city."
"And there are some that say she never died. They say that she wasn't able to give up her immortality, and so now she wanders Gondor, grieving her lost love," Deborah added.
Max looked at the two girls.
"You're joking, right?" he asked. "Everyone knows there's no such thing as ghosts."
Ary shook her head.
"You didn't study your history well, Max. King Aragorn defeated the corsairs with an army of ghosts. From the Paths of the Dead, they were called the Oathbreakers, or something, because they broke their sworn oath to Isildor."
"And what about the Ringwraiths?" Deborah added. "They certainly weren't living beings."
Max held up his hands.
"Okay, okay, you've made your point. I'll go see if this Lady is real, only if you two come with me, savvy?"
Ary and Deborah nodded, smiling.
"Tomorrow night," Deborah said.
Max nodded.
"Tomorrow night."