Eldarion, Prince of Gondor, walked slowly up the high rock-cut staircase that led them almost to the front door of the stately home of the Prince of Ithilien. It was not that he was displeased to be visiting Ithilien; rather, he was happy to see one of his few close friends and to have the opportunity to run and play outdoors away from the more confining environment of Minas Tirith. But this was a ceremonial arrival, and Eldarion knew he had to behave like a prince. Even though few seemed to be watching him other than his mother and father - who never really seemed to be watching, but saw everything anyway - he knew there were eyes everywhere.

At the top of the staircase, seemingly alone, stood Eldarion's friend with his own younger sister (Eldarion's sisters, being quite small, had remained in Minas Tirith with their nurse). In almost any other situation the boy, Elboron, would have had first claim to the attention of the visitors because he was the firstborn, the heir, the next Prince of Ithilien and Steward of Gondor. But they had come to visit for the birthday celebration of Elboron's sister, and so it was to her that Eldarion bowed first.

"Mae govannen, King Elessar, Queen Arwen," both children said politely as their royal visitors approached. "Thank you for coming," the girl added when she had finished bowing her head. "Hello, Eldarion."

"Hello, Ethuniel," he replied. "'Lo, Elboron."

Elboron nodded in response. Eldarion could tell that his friend was itching to run off and play just as he was himself, but they were not free to do so today. In any case when they were allowed to play, it would have to be something quiet and mannerly so that they would not cause a disturbance or muss their clothes.

Eldarion's father bowed gravely to Ethuniel and said, "Eight is an important year, my lady," as he handed her a small velvet box. In response to the king's nod, Ethuniel opened the box so that they all could see a brilliant silver necklace with a version of Gondor's white tree hanging from it. Ethuniel's eyes opened wide and it took her a moment to collect herself and say, "Oh, it's beautiful."

Elboron, leaning over his sister's shoulder, asked, "That is mithril, isn't it, sir?"

"Of course," Eldarion's father responded.

"May I wear it today?" Ethuniel asked.

"Of course you may, child." Eldarion's mother spoke for the first time, stepping forward to lift the necklace from its box. "I will help you."

Ethuniel lifted her hair as the queen gently fastened the necklace around her neck. She never seemed as much in awe of Eldarion's beautiful Elven mother as most people did, but then Ethuniel had known the queen since the day she was born, as had Elboron and their younger brothers.

"There," his mother said, stepping back from Ethuniel. "It looks well." Although Eldarion did not have much of an opinion on ladies' clothing in general, he did agree with his mother. Ethuniel was wearing a dress of dark blue velvet with a silver circlet on her hair, which had been arranged in neat curls instead of its usual rather less tidy waves. The silver tree of Gondor hung brightly against her dress, the impossible shine of the mithril catching the afternoon sun. Without asking, Elboron gently took the little velvet box from his sister and tucked it into the pocket of his tunic. Eldarion rarely knew to do things for his sisters without asking, but then, they were much farther apart in age. Elboron and Ethuniel had been born within two years of each other and grew more like twins every year that they lived.

"Eowyn!" Eldarion heard his father cry. Indeed, his friends' mother was approaching behind them, followed by their father. Eldarion and Elboron exchanged looks as the adults greeted one another, waiting to be left alone for a moment so that they could catch up, in hurried whispers, on all the news from their families and friends.

Of course, they were not left alone but were escorted quite formally into the great hall of the Prince's house. On less formal occasions the Prince was only Faramir, his father's trusted steward, and Eldarion had enjoyed many pleasant talks with him on his visits to Minas Tirith. Today, however, Faramir and Eowyn were the Prince and Princess and he would remember his manners and call Ethuniel "my lady" without feeling even a little bit strange.

Eldarion did not know that members of his father's court, and indeed many of the nobles of Gondor (including Faramir), had called his princely manners uncanny and speculated that he must have had a great deal from his Elvish ancestors. He was probably happier not knowing this, but just the same he often felt the not-unpleasant weight of his heritage on his shoulders and it seemed to nudge him in the right direction.

The celebration of Ethuniel's birthday was rather grand for a girl of eight, and was really more of an event for Ithilien, to invite the people who lived there into the Prince's hall and to remind everyone that the days of strife were over (for now) and that the line of the Stewards flourished. Nobles and commoners mingled, not freely but more freely than usual, feasting and dancing and singing all at the same time.

For a long while Eldarion was occupied by ceremonial responsibilities and with behaving as the Prince of Gondor must. He danced with his mother while his father danced with Eowyn and Faramir danced with his daughter. He danced, carefully and with the eyes of everyone in the hall upon them, with Ethuniel. He accepted and returned pleasant greetings from the nobles of Gondor, hesitating only once when he forgot someone's name (the King of Rohan, conveniently passing by, hissed the man's name in his ear under the guise of giving Eldarion a fatherly slap on the shoulder). Then, finally, he managed to escape into a corner with Elboron and a plate of ice.

"I've never seen loads of these people before," Elboron commented quietly, eating some of his own ice.

"They're mostly from Minas Tirith," Eldarion replied. "I met some of them at Caladwen's naming celebration."

"Sorry I couldn't come to that. I wanted to, but Mother said I oughtn't to ride with a broken arm."

"Ethuniel said a horse threw you."

Elboron scowled. "She wasn't supposed to tell." Looking out over the crowd of dancing guests, he added casually, "Some of them are here because they're thinking of marrying her someday, you know."

"Ethuniel?" Eldarion wrinkled his nose. "She won't marry for ten years at least."

"More, if it's up to Father. And Uncle Eomer." Elboron set down his empty plate. "I wasn't supposed to hear about it, but they were talking in the garden when I finished my riding lesson yesterday. I think it's silly to think of it now when she's far too young to choose."

"Perhaps they think your father will choose for her."

"They should know better."

"Aye." Eldarion sighed, following his friend's gaze to the crowd. "Some at the court in Minas Tirith are already talking about who I will marry. Probably those outside the city, as well."

"That's just as silly," Elboron said staunchly. "You're far too young to choose as well, and your father will no more choose for you than mine will."

"They don't all know that." He paused. "They talk about Ethuniel, you know. For me."

"I suppose they would," Elboron said after a moment.

"It's rather strange to think about."

Elboron laughed. "Well, you would be my brother. And you're not getting to be by any other way - I doubt I'll marry Caladwen or Nimwen."

"True." Eldarion smiled. "But, you know, it would be a bit too convenient if I were to suddenly fall madly in love with Ethuniel."

"You might fall 'madly in love' with someone else first," Elboron said, making a slightly disgusted face. "Some woman of Minas Tirith. Or maybe a lady of Rohan, like my father did."

"Maybe. I wonder if it's entirely pleasant - falling madly in love. It could be awful and they're just not telling us."

Elboron hid a laugh as a particularly over-adorned woman danced by, nearly smothering her partner in all the filmy fabric she wore. "You could fall for someone like that one. That would be awful, all right."

When they had both stopped laughing, hiding their faces guiltily lest someone see them, Eldarion held out his right hand and saidsolemnly, "All right. As long as I haven't fallen madly in love with someone else, if there's no one good enough for her, I promise to marry Ethuniel."

Elboron took his hand and said, "And I promise never to marry any of your sisters." Then he started laughing again, and spoiled the moment.

When Ethuniel came to sit with them, her curls only slightly drooping from the hours of dancing, they both had to smother their merriment for fear she would ask them what they had been talking of. She had something else to discuss, however.

"Elboron," she asked quietly as she settled herself at Eldarion's feet. "Do you notice anything about Mama?"

Her brother searched the crowd for their mother and peered at her for a moment before replying, "I don't think so. No."

"Because Queen Arwen said something to her." Ethuniel glanced up at Eldarion, but he didn't particularly care if she had overheard his mother. "She said, 'This will be the last, I think, Eowyn, but Ithilien shall not have only one shieldmaiden.'"

Out of habit, and some superstition of his Elvish blood, Elboron looked to Eldarion. "What think you?"

"I know nothing for certain," Eldarion replied, meaning really that he had not seen anything about Eowyn that others had not, "but from my mother's words, I should expect to have another sister if I were you."

All three children looked over at Eowyn again. She was whispering to her husband, and from afar it looked to Eldarion as though she might be crying just a little. He shook his head and turned back to his friend.

"If you do have another sister, Elboron, I promise - I shall not marry her."

They burst out laughing, leaving Ethuniel utterly bewildered.