Chapter 15

Dol Amroth

January 3017

Lothíriel stared out into the crowd of people. After dancing fifteen dances with ten different men who seemed to all have the same, scripted compliments, she was tired. She had expected a quiet Yule celebration with her family around just as she had as a child, but her father had decided to hold a homecoming ball in her honor during the celebration of the oncoming New Year. It was now after midnight and she longed for the night to end. She watched as the gentleman who had introduced himself as Lord Terrant (or was it Merrent?) approaching her swiftly from across the room. Glancing to her side and saw Erchirion sitting, sipping a glass of wine. After she touched his arm lightly, their eyes connected and he must have seen the need in her eyes for he stood and held out his hand towards her in an obvious invitation.

"I seem to be in need of fresh air, would you do me the pleasure of your company?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw Terrant stop his approach as Erchirion led her out into the gar,dens. When they stood in the quiet darkness, Lothíriel sighed and took a seat on a nearby bench. She took a few moments of silence before looking up at her brother standing before her.

"I don't think I will ever be able to thank you enough for saving me from that hall."

Erchirion shrugged at her words. "I'm sure Father would understand if you decided to leave. It is late and you will have a busy day tomorrow."

Lothíriel nodded. She had requested that Master Hëmond and Amrothos allow her to aid them in the House of Healing. She knew she didn't have the talent like her brother did, but with the injured and sick coming from nearby villages that had been raided by corsairs, the House of Healing needed more hands to heal than they currently had. She knew that at the very least, she could give a little help. Comfort the sick or dying, wrap bandages, coax patients to take their prescribed medicines.

"I know, but Father went to such trouble to arrange this ball. And besides, it will be good practice for when I go to Minas Tirith as Uncle requested." She sighed thinking of the fact that her Uncle had decided it was time for her to be presented at court. Her father had seemed like he wanted to tell her other things as well, but had decided to think better of it. "I don't want to disappoint him."

Erchirion took a seat next to his sister. "Lothíriel," he put his arm around her and pulled her close to him, "Father will understand. You are not used to all this attention, and besides, I'm sure Father is just waiting to end the celebrations when you are finished." He smiled warmly at her and Lothíriel took a deep breath. Erchirion always knew what to say to make her feel at ease.

She nodded. "Just escort me to Father so I do not get waylaid by some other gentleman or knight or lord eager to step on my toes to music." She smiled, and Erchirion let out a small laugh before getting to his feet and offering his hand once again.


Aldburg

March 3017

Éomer watched as Soulstorm circled around him gracefully. The beautiful mare with her gray coat that was so similar to Firefoot as they both accented the golden morning light. The snow had just begun to melt, and with it, the refugees had decided to head for their former village to work at rebuilding. The winter they had gone through together had not been the easiest but they had all survived and were eager to reclaim their homes. His musings were cut short when he saw Soulstorm's ears and tail flick at the sound of horses approaching from the east.

Following the sound, he was happy to see the herd belonging to the breeders. He hadn't seen Tania since that night in December where their conversation had been cut short by the labor of one of the mares. Soulstorm danced from side to side in anticipation and Éomer had to agree with his horse's excitement. He began to lead the anxious horse to the gates and had only just arrived when the first rider was in front of him. The man who sat atop a chestnut colored horse waved at him with a smile and stepped down.

"Westu hal," Éomer greeted and returned the smile.

"Westu hal, my lord." He bowed to Éomer respectfully. "I would like to request on behalf of Master Talisund that you grant us the use of your fields for a short time before we travel onwards." Éomer nodded at the traditional request and clapped his hand on the man's shoulder as he straightened.

"Most surely, Master Talisund's herd is welcome." By the time he finished, the rest of the group had arrived and waited atop their horses. Éomer spied Tania beside her father and nodded to them. When Talisund inclined his head in return they spread out and began to set up camp with the swiftness of a lifetime of daily practice.

Éomer was in the stables when he heard the familiar voice. "So it seems that my prediction that Soulstorm would do well was correct." Éomer turned around to see Tania standing directly behind him. She looked into his eyes and Éomer couldn't help but give a cursory glance over the curves that were no longer hidden by an apron. Clearing his throat, he turned back to the horse in question and continued rubbing it down.

"Indeed." His eyes fell onto the mother of his fine mare before adding, "Are you here to collect the mare you lent me?" Behind him, Tania sighed with a hint of disappointment in it. Éomer wondered why she was disappointed, but decided that if he needed to know, she would tell him.

"Yes," she finally answered, moving forward into the corner of Éomer's vision. "Father won't have us stay for very long. He has a feeling about going further west. I'm not entirely sure as to why, but you know as well as I never to question someone with my father's talents for prediction." She smiled once more. "Perhaps you could tell me your news tonight before we leave for the plains again?" Éomer nodded and finished with Soulstorm before leading her towards the great hall and a relaxed lunch.


Near-Harad

June 3017

Na'man stared down at the heavy-handed letters that had arrived from Dol Amroth only days ago. The Oracle had arrived home over six months ago and he was only just now hearing about it? What had his spies been doing all this time? He carefully folded up the piece of paper before exiting his tent. When he stood outside, he surveyed the area around him. Equal parts of yellowed grass and sand covered the plains of his homeland. All around him his army stood ready for the impending battle with the warriors of a rival tribe. There was no doubt in his mind that the battle would be short lived, his men outnumbered their enemy ten to one. Unusually, he was glad of the upcoming easy battle. Normally he preferred something of a challenge, but he already had a challenge waiting for him across his borders in Gondor.

He was eager to return to the city of Târêt and begin making plans for the capture of what would be his greatest of prizes. Even though he knew he would never be able to own her like he had so many other women before her, the idea of holding her as his own was enticing. Not only was it good luck to have an Oracle in your city, but it was also known that the gods blessed those who held onto the rarities.

Yes, he would conquer this tribe and return to make plans. He would have to be much more careful in his choice of who to send. After the last slip up the Oracle had gone beyond even Na'man's reach for seven years. Perhaps Yusraa would be willing to aid him. He believed that the enchantress was skilled enough to work her magic over such a distance, he would see for himself though. No matter what, in the end he would have the Oracle brought to Târêt to serve him and the gods.


Dol Amroth

September 3017

Lothíriel stared into the now dead eyes of the fisherman. An accident had occurred while he was out at sea that had given him several deep cuts. Amrothos had not spent very long with the man before declaring gently that there was no hope – he had lost too much blood – to be saved. It was then that Lothíriel had approached the man and held his hands, waiting as the life ebbed away. She knew she should have expected to see death, and had known that this man was going to die, but every time she looked into those eyes, she couldn't help the chill that overtook her. She could feel her body beginning to shake as two people came to carry away the body. Lothíriel continued to sit and stare and shake.

"I remember how difficult it was the first time I saw someone die." Amrothos' voice was nearly a whisper as he came around and took a seat on the flat surface that was the man's final bed. "It was a mother who was giving birth to twins. She had died in the midst of a delivery, but I knew that if I cut her open, I could save the children. Although it was not any fault of mine that she died, for the longest time, I blamed myself for her death. Maybe if there was something I had done earlier, but there was nothing. Some of the healers tried to console me by explaining that the mother would have been happy just knowing her little ones had lived and were being looked after." Lothíriel remembered seeing Amrothos playing with a boy and a girl who had looked very similar to each other in the town. He had given some money and food to their father before receiving warm and loving hugs from the children.

"Ultimately," continued Amrothos, "we need to remember that death is something that is as natural as life, and it is not your fault that he died. It is also fine to take a few moments to remember the people who have died in respect. But if there is one thing we must always remember, it is that the dead cannot hear our tears, only the living. And the living are affected by seeing those we care about hurt by the dead." He stood and held out his hand to Lothíriel as support. When she stood he kissed her gently on her forehead before leading her to another room where a boy, no older than twelve sat with a series of small cuts and bruises as well as a broken leg. "This is Amlaith, a young man who fell off a horse into a wild rosebush and then had the misfortune of stepping of a short cliff while the tide was still low." He strode forward and ruffled the boy's hair. Amlaith, indignant to be treated like a child, pushed his hand away from him.

"Leave me alone," Amlaith huffed slightly. Lothíriel could see him eyeing her under his now messy hair.

Amrothos let out a quiet laugh before turning back to Lothíriel. "Do you think you could see to it that he has some company for a bit before we finish for the day?" He waited for Lothíriel to nod before smiling at the boy patiently. "Now you behave, you're in the presence of a real lady." With that, he exited the room, closing the door behind him. Lothíriel took a seat on a stool that sat beside the bed and looked at the boy who was looking at her with a mixture of awe and anxiousness.

"Well," Lothíriel began, "will you tell me a little bit about yourself?" She smiled encouragingly.

"There's not much to tell. My Ma and Pa are traders and I wanted to help so I decided to go to the next village over, but I was tossed off by my horse before I even left town. I got lost in the woods and ended up falling off a cliff, that's all there is to tell." The boy sounded impatient. "I want to go home."

"I'm sure you'll be able to go home sometime soon. What do your parents trade?" Lothíriel noticed a spark within Amlaith's eyes for a moment.

"Ma mades necklaces and bracelets out of things from the sea, like that necklace you're wearing." He indicated Lothíriel's pearl pendant Meira had sent her for Yule while she was in Rivendell. "And Pa is able to pan salt from the sea better than anyone. He said that in a year, when I become a man, he'll teach me all his secrets and tricks!" He was getting excited.

Lothíriel smiled at Amlaith, "Salt is one of the things that makes Dol Amroth very well off. I'm glad to hear we have someone who is so skilled at panning it, and soon we'll have two of them as well." Amlaith blushed slightly. "But, if you want to start without needing a crutch to walk, you're going to have to stay here until you're well. It wouldn't do to have your leg infected and have to come back for a longer stay would it? Have either of your parents been told that you're here?" The boy nodded his head.

"Pa brought me. He's the one that found me after I fell off the cliff. My horse ended up finding its way back home." He looked down. "Pa said that if I hadn't broken my leg, I'd get a right thrashing for taking the horse without asking or telling where I was going."

"Well," Lothíriel placed her hand on his arm, "I'm sure that they were just worried about you. Your father won't be upset with you for very long I imagine." He looked up at her and a look of recognition passed over his face.

"Are you the princess?" He asked quietly. Lothíriel nodded, holding the smile in place, waiting to see how he would react. She didn't have to wait for very long. The negativity about his parents' disappointment was replaced by an intense curiosity and excitement. "Is it true that you lived with the elves? What were they like? Are their ears really pointed?"

Lothíriel's smile became more relaxed as she answered his questions. "I did stay with them. The elves are a quiet and musical people and very wise. And yes, their ears are pointed." She thought back on Glorfindel and Arvellon and the rest of the elves who she had left behind. "If you take care of yourself and listen to your mother and father I will introduce you to one of my friends who is an elf when he comes to visit."

"Really?" his voice had been brought down to a whisper as if they were sharing a secret.

"Yes," she lowered her voice and brought her face closer to his own, "and if you ask nicely he will play his harp and sing for you."

"What about you?" Amlaith asked.

"What do you mean?" Lothíriel sat back up.

"Can you sing?" He watched her in anticipation. When she nodded he sat up straighter and began begging her to sing a song. Lothíriel thought about how her harp was sitting up in her chamber but decided she could manage a song for the boy without it. After settling him down by telling him she would do as he requested, she sat up as straight as a rod and began a song she had heard the elves singing about the sea.

The grey lady who graces our shores,

Has carried us all to this land.

Our hearts lie with her, coated in salt,

Our feet are buried in sand.

Oh, the sea, the sea!

Our hearts pine in longing.

It calls us home again and again,

To go with the sun's setting.

The stars reflect off her glassy surface,

Her face has no equal in beauty.

Her temper is not one to be provoked,

For none other than the Valar are as mighty.

Oh, the sea, the sea!

Our heart's pine in longing.

It calls us home again and again,

To go with the sun's setting.

Our hearts and our minds will never forget,

Our longing for her sweet touch.

If you pay attention to the signs she gives,

She will keep you safe from darkness' clutch.

Oh, the sea, the sea!

Our hearts pine in longing.

It calls us home again and again.

To go with the sun's setting.

The love of our lady has no end,

Our dreams of her we cannot pen.

We long evermore for the salty grey shores,

Until we finally sail West once again.

Lothíriel finished her song and noticed that the entire house of healing had grown quiet around her. She turned and saw some of the elderly and sick who could stand had come to the doorway, listening to her music. She felt her face heat and excused herself from the room, bidding to Amlaith that she would return another day to see how he was.

She walked slowly out of House of Healing and each person who had heard her simply stared at her, mute, but wearing an expression of peace. Some of the people reached out and touched her lightly as if to check if she were truly standing before them and not some unearthly ghost. Finally, she exited the building and hastened her steps towards the castle where she could hide in her chamber and let the embarrassment pass.

A/N: The way you pronounce Na'man is na-a-men and Yusraa is easy enough with a trailing ah sound.