H3 letter Manwë

Angel stared with open eyes to the letter in front of her as if she couldn't believe what she just read.

Dear Lady Angel, Daughter of Arathorn and sister of Aragorn Elessar,

My name is Manwë,

I am employed by Eru Valar, Ilúvatar, whose name you probably have heard.

I want to invite you the land of Aman beyond the great sea for a meeting,

The council of Doom expects you tomorrow at 12.00 afternoon.

We have prepared a ship for you from the grey haven in Lindon.

We will sent someone to meet you when you arrive in Aman.

Yours sincerely,

Manwë Súlimo. Lord of Arda.

"And?" Draco's voice penetrated Angels ears inside. "Whose is it, it is from Aragorn?" His gray eyes looked Angel questioningly and his hand reached forward.

Manny questions shifted trough his head. 'What's going on, what does Aragorn want from you, are you being summoned. And why are you so pale'

While Angel read the letter it was Draco cases that Angel with the count became pale. Her cheeks went from pink to white, her eyes were glassy and her face began to be clammy with sweat.

But Angel did not respond, she just kept staring at the letter, Manwë, the Valar had called her to go to Valinor, but that was the immortal countries, no one except the elves went that way.

"No it is not from Aragorn," she muttered, without looking up. "It is Manwë, the lord of Arda."

"The lord of Arda? 'Angels daughter looked at her mother for a moment, then averted her gaze on her father. "Who is that and what does he want from Mom?"

But all Draco could do was shrug his shoulders, he was still not completely familiar with all the histories and peoples of Middle-Earth.

Merlin's beard. It went through his head, what are you talking about?

"I am summoned by the council of doom, I am expecting tomorrow afternoon around twelve o'clock at the Grey Havens, where a boat brings me to the immortal lands. And that is all. "

'The Grey of what sweetie?, what is going on, you're acting very strange. "

"There's nothing going on, Draco," Angel picked up her cup of tea and took a sip. The warm liquid slid down her throat, the taste of liquorice tickled on her tongue, but when she swallowed Angel felt how her stomach tightened and bubbling up, rushing the cup back on the table, Angel made a dash for the bathroom .

In the kitchen it was equally silent. Draco's daughter tugged at her father's sleeve. "Father, are you all right ?, Mom was very pale this morning, is she gonna to be alright? '

"Yes, Angel," Draco answers his daughter's anxious question while he held her hands, "Everything is okay, I'll check with your mother." And before he walked out of the room he looked at his oldest son. "Aragorn you watch your brothers, while I'm away!"

"Yes, Dad," answered the boy while he straightened his shoulders. With one last look at his children Draco ran after Angel.

Several thoughts penetrated his head, though it was not so difficult for him to guess why his wife suddenly ran away from the dining table. Over the past eight years, he had four times made the same with. And this time it was firmly struck again. A child attendance, one that would uphold the Malfoy name and the blood of Númenor would pass. Draco's eyes sparkled at the thought and his heart was in his throat. He and Angel had been blessed with eight wonderful children, all twins, where the oldest two were a boy and a girl, the other six after hem were all boys. But he still hoped for a girl.

Now he quietly walked into the bathroom, the large white walls glistened in the light of the chandelier, to his right stood a large bathtub with a crystal faucet and left a white sink in the shape of a leaf.

Angel wanted to have a sink in the shape of the leave of Lothloriën when they were building the house, it reminded her of her journey trough Middle-Earth and he had agreed to it.

"Angel?" Silently, he walked in and saw his wife's back turned to him, her head hanging over the toilet. "Is it that time again?" Without waiting for an answer, he walked forward and knelt down to her right. "Is there another little one on the way?" His gray eyes looked at Angels eyes as he held her face with both hands. Of course there was a child, flashed through his mind. stupid question.

"Yes," answers Angel, as she looked at her husband and wiped her mouth with a piece of toilet paper, which she then flushed away down the toilet. "Do not worry, I'm fine. I think a child growing again. "Quickly she stood up and looked at Draco and smiled. 'Everything is good. I'm used to it after four pregnancies. And I've made it a bit more than this. "

With a wink, something Angel often did. She smiled. "I think this is going to be a long time. But I wonder what Manwë needs of me. "

And with that Angel and Draco looked at each other in silence. For what was the lord of Arda now Angel that he is her mortal to the island Aman called for a meeting. Because not every mortal ever was summoned to appear in front of the council of doom, only Eärendil, Angels ancestor had ever succeeded. But not thereafter, and there was no story that anyone had ever visited the island after him.

Angel was now at war with herself. Would she go, would she dare to accepted Manwë's offer. There were rumours that she was a descendant of Morgoth. Would they arrest her and lock her op with Morgoth?

"Shall I go?" It was not a question, but Angel wanted her husband to know if it was a good idea.

"Yes," came the reply. "If you do not, there'll come back a letter and who knows," Draco smiled briefly as he drew Angel into the hallway, "Maybe you see your old friends again. Were they not gone to that place, about five years ago? And you do not want to see them? Go to Valinor and then see how you come in Aman. "He put his mouth to her ear. "I'll look after the children." Whispered Draco before he kissed Angel repeatedly in her neck.

'You are great.'

The smell of the sea penetrated deep into Angels nose as she walked into the gray port. The white washed buildings of the ancient kingdom of the Noldor rose past her, tall towers that once were part of a large country during the first era, thousands of years ago, and that was one of the few areas of the region the War of Wrath had survived. Angel made a note to herself, to learn about the great countries that where swallowed by the sea.

But when a large white ship before her loomed and Círdan greeted her, Angel knew that she had to wait about Middle-Earths history.

"What will I find there?" She asked the old elf.

But Círdan shrugged his shoulders and guided her to the boat and signed to the wheelman. "I don't know, my Lady. And you don't have to be afraid of Manwë, Lord of Arda. He is not ill-disposed. Goodbye and may Varda illumine your path. "

Then he walked back to shore while the white ship set sail, and slipped through the water toward the sunset in the land of the Valar.