DISCLAIMER: Tolkien owns it all, except for the stuff he doesn't, which is mine. Sue me if you want I'm to poor to care.
WARNING: if you worship Tolkien (which I do, to a degree) to the point any straying from his plot and world ticks you off, don't read this…come to think of it, I have no idea why you would be reading fanfics anyway. My point is I have tried to stay as LOTR PC as possible, but it has been a while since I read the books (any of them) so…give me a break…
Prologue (cause it's too short to be a chapter)
She has no wish, none what so ever, to be here. She really should have fought harder, argued another way, maybe just pretend to be coming here, and when no one was watching…No, she told herself, gazing at the city rising in the distance, one of them would have found out in the end.
Arallia spurred her horse into a trot and set about posting as she reflected on her last argument with her two wizard mentors.
"Much of the magic that was, for your kind, is now lost. What little knowledge was written down resides in Minas Tirath" his voice was stern yet gentle
"But it is as you say 'what little'. You, here at Isenguard know so much already, and can help me fill in the rest, and if not you then Gandalf can." Frowning Arallia realized that was a week argument, but she continued anyway "I mean to say, there is no reason fro me to study anywhere but here and parts of the elvish realms. I am happy here."
Saruman watched here from his council chair. He knew what lay at the heart of the matter. "You should never fear returning to Gondor. Mostly because no one will ever know who you are, and secondly because it is your land, you must learn to love it and not fear it"
"Aragorn has learned to love it from a distance." Arallia spoke quietly watching the floor
"Your brother loves it from a distance because he has no reason to love it close up. He is bound as well to the north, you have a reason to go, and go you shall." Gandalf spoke from the corner.'
And as always Gandalf was right, go she did, and here she was. Gandalf, who rode beside her, kept the pace easily, a small knowing smile on his face. He knew, as always what went on in her mind. They had made the journey together, over a week's ride. Though Gandalf was a good travel fellow, Arallia just wished that she could have travled by her self. For all that is good in the world! I am in the 60's! She cursed to herself. Why is it that everyone insists on molly-codling me? Having grown-up with the elves, she was no stranger to nature, and having grown up around rangers she was no stranger to living off of it. But still it is, who did Gandalf put it? 'Hardly suitable for a lady to be crossing nations by herself.'. Arallia sighed. No matter how much she did not like it, she always gave in. She was not the strong resolute person her brother was. Her brother…it always came back to him.
"You will like it here; it is in your blood." Gandalf reassured her, bringing her out of her thoughts as the two riders approached the gates. "Plus the library is top notch." He added waving to the guardsman who peered at them over the wall.
But the guardsman was not the only person to see the two riders enter. Far and way lay unfriendly eyes, sharp eyes, he saw his pray enter there, and he was patient.