What does this all mean?
Prologue: Threads of the Future Are Woven
Location: Camathe Dimension, Planet: Nihithara, Country: Silvaria.
The High General of Silvaria sighed as she looked over the military plans of attack. Her once pure ebony hair now gleamed with strands of elegant silver and its binding braid fell over her shoulder as she moved to adjust her crystal lamp. She looked up as she heard a knock at her partially open door and smiled at her visitor. "Gandalf! My old friend! I can't believe you made it!" she exclaimed, her storm colored eyes illuminated by joy.
The wizard laughed, "My dear Francis, one does not often get to travel through the dimensions to meet with a friend! This has been my first inter-dimensional trip and I am surprised that my limited powers allowed for me to come," stated Gandalf.
"Oh, you know as well as I that you made the journey with ease," smirked Francis, for she was not the least bit fooled by her friend's words.
"True, my friend. However, may I ask why you wanted me to come here, instead of you meeting me in Middle Earth as usual?" inquired the Grey Pilgrim, his bristly eyebrows rising in question.
Francis sighed again, taking a steadying breath. She had dreaded telling him this bit of news but it had to be done. "Gandalf, I am dying." whispered the woman, as she sank back into her reoak chair.
The wizard's expression immediately turned serious, as he viewed his companion's artic pale complexion, which he had at first contributed to fatigue, and spoke, "I thought you said the doctors on Earth could help you?"
Francis smiled sadly, "Oh, that last arrow wound did what those cursed Karnacks were hoping for. The poison has traveled to my brain, and it is slowly causing what will appear to be an aneurism. It will look like an accidental death to the humans of Earth. Oh, they will try to operate to save me, but never the less I will die in the end."
Gandalf looked at his friend in shock, "But Francis! What will happen to the Empire of Silvaria without you?" he asked, trying to rein in his now whirling thoughts.
"The resistance movement will go on without me. The people will be freed of the Karnacks whether I lead them or not. My close friends will watch for the return of the Guardians, when I am gone. I have a feeling that the child of my youngest daughter will be leading them. When she comes, she can help you," responded the woman.
"Help me? Why would I need help?" questioned the wizard, his brain churning, and he pondered what this statement might mean.
"You will see, my friend. Now go. I do believe you have a Hobbit's life to meddle in, and some dwarves to assist," replied Francis, her all-knowing smirk returning to her weary face. Gandalf gave a small smile in reply, for she was always able to read his mind and see through his tricks. He was startled out of his thoughts when she handed him something and told him goodbye.
He used his magic to return to the dimension of Middle Earth. Only then did he look at what his dear friend had given him. It was a portal cube and a note.
The note read,
'My dear friend,
I have treasured our time together and I hope you know that you were like a brother to me. I have given you this portal cube so that you can return to
Camathe and my home world after 52 Middle Earth years have passed. It is my
hope that you will know why I ask this by then. I apologize for being vague but I am obligated by the Great One not to say more than that. One of my only regret is that I shall not have you to talk with when the Sacred Specter takes my soul up. Farewell and may the Trinity's blessings be upon you.
Your friend,
Empress Francis, High General of Silvaria, Last High Guardian.
Gandalf smiled sadly as a tear rolled down his wise face. He knew now that this had been the last time he and Francis
would see each other, on this side of reality. It saddened him that she was going to die because of Karnackien poison and he could not help her.
For fifty Nihitharan years, she had led the fights against the Karnacks for Silvarian freedom. The other leaders of her army would see to it that her heir would return the throne to its proper place (meaning it would belong to Francis's heir, a child of the Royal Selenerian Household) and then the people would truly be free. 'But what could the heir and Guardian of the Silvarian Empire possibly have to do with Middle Earth?' wondered the wizard. He shoved the thought aside for now and went onward to go meet a certain Thorin Oakenshield.
Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR but I own everything else in this story and the story itself. This is my first official fanfic so please be nice. Flames shall be used to roast Gollum. And sorry about the spacing issues, my computer is currently suffering through a nervous breakdown caused by over-usage.