A/N: I am happy that the chapter made you happy. It made me happy to write it. Of course it was not the chapter I meant to write. But I guess you are used to the fact that with this story I keep promising things that will only happen like five chapters after the one for which they were promised.

BTW: I was forced to make up a list of my characters as I will need a host of servants and stuff shortly. I realize that I messed up the dogs. But I'll let them stay Geri and Freki. Sounds better than Gizmo and Glory. And now I have a nice list, with all the horses and all the men, and the colors of their hair and eyes. Yay!

I often wondered how in hell it can happen that authors mix up the colors of the eyes of my favorite heroes. Now I know. They didn't make a list. Lol

But as I have spent three hours yesterday making that damn list, we should be alright now.

70. A Promise, Preparations and a White Ship

When I woke the next morning, I recalled a promise I had made. Well, probably not the minute I woke up, but I was pondering how to ask Míri about this problem as I walked down the stairs to the dining room.

After breakfast, I gathered my courage and approached Míri. "I would like – I don't know if that is appropriate – I would like to see the grave of – my sister. Where I was born, we used to take flowers to the graves of our deceased relatives…"

Míri's eyes misted over and she had to look away for a moment. Finally she said in a soft, husky voice: "I am sure your sister would love that. The guards will take you to the cemetery. It's at the edge of the cliffs out side the town."

Then she hurried from the room.

For the flowers I went to the flower garden of Dol Amroth. I left the entrance hall for the inner courtyard. The inner courtyard is paved with the smooth grey stone of the Dor-en-Ernil. To the western side a low wall of those grey stones fences it off from the flower garden. The garden is small, but exquisite. Here in the south many exotic flowers can endure outside all year round, and for times of cold weather an orangery, a hothouse, is attached to the kitchen, at the south-western corner of the garden. But as Míri does not care for ostentation of any kind, so there are not many fancy plants around. It would look too cheap, she had told me when she had first shown me around the gardens of Dol Amroth. Therefore the bushes and flowers growing here are for the most part plants that are indigenous to the area of Dol Amroth. Think Mediterranean. Oleander, white jasmine, passion flowers, some roses, a dozen others I cannot name.

I stood on the lawn and stared at the blossoms. Although it was a grey morning, with storm clouds being blown in from the sea, it was still fairly warm and the air in the garden was filled with the sweet fragrance of blossoms.

Míri had allowed me to pick as many flowers as I wanted. But which ones should I choose?

In the end I settled for some star like, periwinkle blue flowers with violet spots at the center of the petals, which reminded me of forget-me-nots. But they were taller, with more blossoms and their sweet, faintly spicy fragrance reminded me of the perfume "wish" from Chopard. In an afterthought I added a lonely white rose to the bouquet.

The bunch of flowers in my hand, careful to hold them upside down to preserve their freshness, I stepped to the red stone wall that ran along the western side of the flower garden. The wall had once been part of the old castle built at the side of the Donjon. The old castle was destroyed hundreds of years ago. The donjon, however is still there, serving as a lighthouse. The remaining walls of the old castle have been preserved, too, to shelter the gardens of Dol Amroth, and as additional defenses. They still stand about one and a half stories high, and the delicate framework of the windows is almost completely unscathed. The windows now open on one side to the sea and to the other on the flower and herb garden of Dol Amroth with the window seats turned into garden benches. It's a beautiful, peaceful garden. A sanctuary.

I sighed a little. There was another sanctuary I had to visit now, if I wanted to be true to my promise. I turned back from the view of the red wall and the green and grey waves in the empty windows.

In the entrance hall of the castle my guards were already waiting for me, dressed for riding in dark blue uniforms and black leather trousers, swords and daggers fastened to their sides. They looked grim and not a little dangerous.

Yes, my guards.

Almost the first thing Ada had done after the ink of our signatures had dried on the adoption papers was to appoint two personal guards for me. The times of me riding off on my own anywhere were over for good.

My guards are two men who rode to war with Prince Imrahil. One of his best and most reliable men, he told me. Nevertheless I am not to ride far from the castle and the town. You never know when the corsairs will attack. Only in November will the sea get too rough for the corsairs to try for the coasts of Gondor. Therefore we have to be careful on any outings.

The first guard is a young man called Helmichis. He is actually of Rohirric descent. His mother was Rohirrim, his father a fisher from the village of Dol Amroth. I have no idea how a fisher from Dol Amroth could ever meet and fall in love with a woman from Rohan. But Helmichis is a pretty burly proof that it actually happened – one way or the other. He is nineteen, blond, powerfully built, with dark brown eyes and an easy smile.

The other guard is Rhawion. He around fifty, with steel grey hair and eyes, tough as old leather and taciturn like any stone. He hails from Dol Amroth, born and bred, and I have the notion that his duty is not only to watch over me, but to train Helmichis.

Dol Amroth is built on two promontories off the peninsula of Dol Amroth and Cobas. The castle and its gardens form a pentagon, with the smallest side pointing to the south-east and the larger promontory where the town is situated on. The town of Dol Amroth is more or less octagonal, with a square market place at its center. The main street runs fairly straight from the drawing bridge of the castle to the city's gates. When you enter the town you find yourself in a courtyard that can be separated from the rest of the town by a second gate. To the left of this courtyard are the stables, to the right the barracks of the guards, although the expression "stables" and "barracks" perhaps give the wrong idea. Both are tall grey buildings which form a large "U" with the second gate placed between them. But this second gate is open all the time, unless the corsairs attack.

I don't know if they did it on purpose, but my guards both chose black geldings for riding today, creating a beautiful contrast to my splendid white Mithril. With the guards in their matching dark blue uniforms, riding just a little behind me on either side, I must have looked like a real noble lady of Gondor for once. Apart from the fact, of course, that I wore a Rohirric outfit of trousers and tunic because I don't know how to ride side-saddle.

We rode across the drawing bridge that connects the town of Dol Amroth with the peninsula of Cobas and turned away from the road to Edhellond. We took a lane leading off to the west, running along the edge of the cliffs just opposite of the battlements of the town and continued on this narrow road for barely a mile.

"It's just over there, my lady," Helmichis called out to me and pointed to a small meadow surrounded by low walls at the western edge of the cliffs only a few yards away.

"Thank you, Helmichis," I said politely. I felt more than a little self-conscious with the two guards following me like that. But there was nothing I could do about it. And Míri had announced that we needed to talk about me acquiring some servants of my own, to take with me to Edoras. Would I ever get used to having servants and guards around me all the time? To never to being really alone anymore, to having virtually no privacy?

We rode up to the low walls of the cemetery. They were built from the reddish stones of the cliffs, a dry stone wall. The stones had been carefully set one upon the other without using mortar; the cracks between the stones had been filled with pebbles. I reined in Mimi and dismounted. My heart thumped heavily in my chest. I felt strange and nervous about visiting the grave of my dead sister.

"We will wait here for you, my lady," Rhawion told me. "The grave you are looking for is over at the front of the cemetery, with all the rest of the family."

"Thank you," I said hoarsely.

There was no gate, only an opening in the wall.

Somewhat reluctantly I entered the graveyard. The graveyard reminded me at once of old English graveyards. It was a square piece of fenced in meadow. There were no angels or marble monstrosities here, only small markers made of that soft red, yellow and orange rock that comes from the cliffs of Dol Amroth.

Some of the markers were so old that the runes carved into the stone had faded into invisibility, others had sunken into the ground and had shifted to lean at odd angles, ready to fall down completely any moment.

I walked to the end of the graveyard. Here the gravestones were tall and intricately carved with runes and ornate designs. But apart from that there was no indication that these were the graves of the lords of Dol Amroth.

I walked slowly along the stones, carefully, painstakingly deciphering the tengwar runes.

Finally I found my sister.

It was the smallest marker, at the far right hand corner of the row. It was a reddish stone with a cream colored swath trailing across it from the upper right corner to the lower left edge of the stone. The runes were still clear and easy to read. I recognized my name. I could not really read the other words, but I assumed that it was the date of her birth and death.

"Lothíriel 2992 – 2993"

I stood very still and looked down at the stone. I did not know what to feel. There she was, my sister in name, and now by adoption. Once again I wondered if I had usurped her life. Would she have lived, had I not been born? Would she have lived, if my mother had given me another name? Or if I had not abandoned my studies that day in August 2004?

I sighed, and told myself firmly to abandon this futile brooding.

I knelt down in front of the stone and laid the flowers down in front of the stone.

Lothíriël is actually a Sindarin word. It means "a maiden crowned with blossoms".

I have brought you some flowers from your mother's garden, I thought to my sister. I'm your new sister. Your parents have adopted me. I hope you don't mind. Your parents are simply wonderful, kind and courageous. They miss you still.

I looked at the flowers and the small stone. The sea beyond the low wall and the cliffs was rough today, grey and green waves rolled heavily towards the shores, crested in white.

I wondered how my sister had looked. A sweet little toddler like Solas. Had she had her mother's dark hair or had she taken after her father's almost white blond hair color?

I wish I could have met you, I said silently in my mind. Wherever you are, I hope you are happy.

"May all the Valar and Eru hold you and protect you in eternity." I whispered finally.

I took a deep breath. The air was still mild and warm and tasted slightly salty from the nearby ocean. It was very silent out here at the edge of the cliffs. There was only the sound of the wind and the waves, and the hooves of the horses as they moved along the path to graze a little while they were waiting for us to mount again. Now and again the cry of a seabird drifted down to me.

In German the word for graveyard is "Friedhof", "yard of peace".

This graveyard was peaceful.

I exhaled softly and felt the tension drain from my body all at once. The apprehension I had been feeling was suddenly lifted from my heart. I felt calm and at peace.

I smiled down at my sister's grave and found that I could turn and go on.

Diary: 15th of October, or rather Narquelië, 3019

Now we are more than two weeks back at Dol Amroth. Time simply flies by. Míri keeps me busy. She has decided that we don't have to wait for the twins to continue my education.

The library of Dol Amroth is filled with thousands of books about the history and peoples of Arda. But for the time being I am wrestling simply with learning how to read and how to write. There are no printing presses in Middle Earth. It's a wonder that there are any books at all… especially since there are no monasteries to concentrate on the task of gathering and preserving knowledge as was the case on earth. From what I understand in Middle Earth it was mainly the work of the elves to systematically conserve what knowledge there is of history and medicine and everything else. What is kept at the archives of the various keeps and castles is mainly up to the fancies of the ruling lord at any given time.

There are also no universities and public libraries.

When the elves leave for good, Middle Earth will be in deep shit. Perhaps I can introduce something like that in Rohan. Though I am not sure how much Eomer cares for arts and sciences.

Oh, well, I guess I will have time to worry about all this for years to come.

At the moment I'd be happy if I could remember those bloody runes. How am I supposed to learn anything about the history of Gondor and Rohan or to read those bloody ledgers if I can't spell my own name?

As October waned, the time came to prepare the castle and the town for the visit of the King and Queen.

King Elessar and Queen Arwen would pass through Dol Amroth at the beginning of November, Hísimë, on the royal progress. They had left Minas Tirith not long after us, traveling to Pinnath Galen and Anfalas. Although in name Dunland, the Enedwaith and the Drúwaith Iaur belong to the reunited kingdom of Gondor and Arnor as well, there was not much use in going there. No one really lives there. Of course those lands are not completely deserted, but the few isolated villages that might be left there are not even on the maps anymore. For the most part those parts are empty, desolate lands, peopled by wild tribes, and bands of vagabonds and robbers.

Therefore the royal progress concentrated on the homelands of Gondor.

After visiting Rohan, Anorien and Ithilien, it was the turn of the south-western provinces to welcome the new king and queen. On their way back to Minas Tirith, Aragorn and Arwen would come to Dol Amroth. From Dol Amroth they would continue along the coast towards Linhir and then turn north again to Minas Tirith. At the beginning of December they would be back home, hoping for a boring and peaceful winter.

For the time being their plans had turned Dol Amroth – castle, town and harbor – into a veritable ant heap. Provisions for several days of feasting were gathered. Hundreds of garlands of colorful leaves and flowers were wound by the girls of Dol Amroth to decorate the castle and the town of Dol Amroth. The guards of Dol Amroth spent hours polishing their mail. Enho, the majordomo of Dol Amroth, and Marai, the cook, were in turn close to heart attacks and nervous breakdowns preparing the King's suite of Dol Amroth for the first royal visit since Eärnur's days and planning the courses for the celebratory dinner.

Ada – Prince Imrahil – had nothing much to do with the preparations. Lucky man. The only thing he had to do was ride out to meet the King and Queen and escort them to Dol Amroth. Míri was responsible for everything else.

But strangely Míri was the only one who remained reasonably calm amid all this frenzy and agitation.

I regretted that in a way, because she remembered not only every detail about the organization of the royal visit, but about my studies as well. She kept me hard at work, making me transcribe a book about the history of Gondor. First I had to simply copy down the runes. Then I had to translate them. I probably should no expect any real progress in the time of two or three weeks, but I was more than a little discouraged by my difficulties with the runes.

I had been looking forward to meeting Elladan and Elrohir again. Now I was not so sure.

Making a fool of myself in front of the firstborn is not exactly my favorite pastime.

Elladan and Elrohir arrived unexpectedly early, on the 27th of October.

And apart from the Prince everyone was surprised by the manner of their arrival, too. I had expected them to come riding towards Dol Amroth on the road from Edhellond, the coat of their proud elvish horses gleaming whitely in the sun.

Instead they came by the sea. They sailed into the harbor of Dol Amroth with a small white sailing ship shaped like a swan. It was a beautiful ship. Absolutely extraordinary. Somehow elves always end up with something white and gleaming to transport them. I think they do that on purpose.

The elvish ship had been sighted when it was still miles away from the harbor. Prince Imrahil had been alerted instantly and prepared to go down to the harbor to greet the noble visitors at once. He asked Míri and me to accompany him. He did not have to ask his sons.

Mel and Númendil were positively jumping on the spot with impatience as they waited for Míri and Ada to get ready to walk down to the harbor to meet the elves.

Finally we were ready to go. This time even the normally quiet and composed Númendil found it difficult to stay at his father's side and as Imrahil walked slowly through the streets of Dol Amroth, cordially greeting the men and women we met on our way.

The fishing village and the harbor of Dol Amroth lie at the foot of the cliffs, in the bay of Cobas. A long, winding path branches off the road to Edhellond, leading off to the left in front of the gates of the city and then down to the sea, descending in narrow serpentines for almost five hundred feet.

At long last we reached the harbor, just in time to watch the splendid white ship closing in to the harbor. With a low thump the ship collided with the bumpers at the quay. Elladan and Elrohir threw slender coils of elvish rope across to the waiting fishermen, who quickly secured the ship to the moorings.

The twins swiftly jumped down to the quay, strode towards the Prince of Dol Amroth and embraced him.

"It's good to get off this horrible nutshell," Elrohir said shuddering.

Imrahil smiled faintly. "I bet Lord Círdan would not be at all pleased if he knew how you refer to his masterpiece."

"I don't care," replied Elladan, who looked just as pale and exhausted as his twin. "I hate sailing. It's good to have firm ground below my feet once more."

Then the elves turned towards us. They bowed to Míri and kissed her hand decorously. To my envy she greeted them in perfect Sindarin.

Then the twins turned to me and embraced me heartily, which made me blush. Even if your heart is given elsewhere, being embraced by elves is an extraordinary sensation.

"How are your studies?" Elrohir asked.

I raised my eyebrows at him and rolled my eyes. "They would be better if your ancestors had not invented so bloody difficult runes."

Elrohir grinned at me mischievously. "They did that just to annoy you, I'm sure."

"Did you practice with your sword at all?" Elladan wanted to know, winking at me.

I blushed even more hotly and shook my head. There had simply been no time left for that between the blasted runes and the preparations for our royal visitors.

I was gratified when Míri came to my aid. "Please, my lords, there will be enough time for this. May I introduce you to my sons? This is Númendil and this is Meluir."

She motioned her sons to step forward and greet the two elves.

The boys, who had been watching us breathlessly, their eyes wide, their mouths open – no, not really, but they did look absolutely awestruck at Elrond's sons.

I have to admit that the twins were indeed magnificent in appearance, even if they were a little worse for the wear from the sea voyage. Their long dark hair had been braided down their backs to keep it out of the way. Their eyes were of the famous Noldorin silver, their features clear and noble, filled with the light of the grace of the Eldar. They were tall and commanding, even dressed in the simple grey garments they had worn on the ship, and at their sides hung their famous twin swords, whose names are never uttered. But as they bent down to the boys, they smiled as easily and openly as any human, and they greeted the boys in such friendly manner that put even Númendil at ease in their company.

"Will it be alright to leave the ship moored here for the time being?" Elladan asked Imrahil.

The Prince nodded. "Of course. There won't be any time to get it out off the water until the king has left anyway. But I will make sure that it is high and dry come winter, as I have promised your father."

"That reminds me," Elrohir put in. "Could you send a messenger to Imladris? We promised Adar to send word of our – and the ship's – safe arrival."

"Of course," Imrahil replied. "A messenger can be sent at once. But now, please, accompany us to the castle and share a glass of wine with us, to welcome you. It is an honor and a pleasure to have you here."

"Gladly, sire," Elrohir answered, hoisting Mel up into his arms.

"Could you perhaps write and seal that message?" Elladan asked in mock plaintiveness. "Ada will believe you more easily than us that we really sailed this dratted ship to safety without getting into trouble."

Imrahil chuckled softly. "I guess your father is used to trouble where the two of you are concerned, isn't he?"

Elladan grinned and turned to Númendil. "I won't venture any comment to that remark. I bet your Ada does not even know how to spell the word 'trouble' with such fabulous sons." He held out his hand to the youngster. Númendil, his eyes glowing with delight, took it at once.

"And such a very pretty daughter, one might add," Elrohir commented and smiled at me.

I had no idea how to react to that compliment, so I settled for a silent smile.

As I followed Imrahil, Míri, the twins and the boys back up the cliffs, I mused that I could easily imagine Elladan and Elrohir as troublemakers-in-chief at Imladris, wreaking havoc in the palaces and generally turning the place upside down. But then I had to grin as another thought occurred to me. One should never underestimate Arwen. Still waters are deep, as the saying goes.

And what was that business about this white sailing ship?

Was that the task they had been sent here to accomplish in the first place?

And if so, why?

Oh, well… that was none of my business. But I must confess that I was curious. Perhaps I would be brave enough to ask them sometime.

Soccer-Bitch, TPfann, Christina, Morwen, Mija, Aelyaniara, ElvenScript: Thank you!

RipperAngel: Nicht mehr lange, fürchte ich, ich hab jetzt einen Abgabetermin für meine Abschlußarbeit.

And a CHALLENGE: I would like to know how Helmichis' Dad – the fisher from Dol Amroth – met his Rohirrim wife. Would you care to tell me?

Note: they are not in any way related to any noble lords and ladies of either Gondor or Rohan. Just simple folk. Helmichis is 19 in 3019.

Please let me know if you take on the challenge!