Chapter 27

Minas Tirith

Midsummer's Day, 3019

Imrahil dropped the letter as if it had burned his hand. His only daughter was gone. Tears surged down his cheeks like water over rapids. The joy he had felt for his King and new Queen at their wedding had disappeared only to be replaced by stark grief. They couldn't even properly bury her as her body as it had disappeared amongst the waves and rocks. A knock sounded at the door and Amrothos entered the room. After seeing Imrahil's broken expression, he picked up the letter, scanning through it quickly. As he reached the end of the letter, he sank into a chair behind him.

"This cannot be." His voice was a whisper. "Surely Erchirion is mistaken. Her body wasn't found, so maybe she survived." His voice petered out as he realized that it was preposterous. If she had survived, she surly would have been spotted by the sailors who had scoured the coast.

"I don't want to believe it either," Imrahil's voice caught in his throat.

"I know she was heartbroken when she left the city, but I should have gone with her. I have to take care of those who are in despair. If I had been there, I would have noticed the signs." Amrothos softly placed the letter onto the desk. Imrahil took the paper and flipped it over so the words were facing the desk, as if not seeing them would erase the truth. He would never see his daughter again.


Dol Amroth

July 3019

"I swear I saw her that day!" A man's words were slurred from drinking too much. "I saw the ghost of Princess Lothíriel the day she died."

"You were drunk," another voice chimed in, "just like you are now!" Laughter could be heard throughout the tavern.

"And did anyone else see this supposed ghost?" One of the tavern girls called out while collecting empty mugs from a table.

"You know as well as I that they didn't. The beaches were empty except for me. The city was preparing the town for the Midsummer Celebration. But just cause I don't have nobody to stand with me, it don't mean I'm not telling the truth." The drunk stood up only to sway unsteadily as he began to walk out the door. Before leaving he turned back to the people. "No matter what, there was something strange about it all. She was always of a strange sort, and I would bet all the money I had in the world that magic was involved."

"Too bad you ain't got no money to bet with anymore!" Laughter filled the tavern again as the drunk staggered out.


Erchirion stared into the room that was once his sister's. Although it had been weeks since she had died, it was exactly as Lothíriel had left it, except for one small detail. On her small desk Erchirion had placed the single black feather that he had found while searching for her body. It was nothing short of a miracle that whatever force had dragged Lothíriel to never be found again within the depths had not taken the feather with it. He entered the room silently and delicately picked it up, looking at it carefully.

Directly following her death he had kept the feather with him, hoping he had been somehow deceived. He had even listened to the rumors of Lothíriel's supposed ghost. But after searching for days at a time with almost no sleep to no avail. Elphir had always been the hunter and tracker. Finally, Erchirion accepted that his sister was no longer a part of the living world. Sighing heavily, he placed the feather back in it's place on the desk before wandering to the window. Looking out from it, he could see the cliff where she had taken her life. His father had placed a marble stone at that cliff, which now acted as her grave since there was no body to bury. As a single tear fell down his cheek, he wondered if this is where she decided she would rather die than be without the man she thought she loved.

He clenched his hand into a fist as he thought of Éomer. He knew that he was partly to blame for Lothíriel's despair, but his guilt did nothing to temper his anger at how brokenhearted his sister had been even before the letter had arrived. If Éomer hadn't started this, he would never have lost his sister forever. The sound of movement behind him pulled Erchirion from his musings. He turned round to see his father standing at the threshold, much like Erchirion had before entering the room.

"I didn't know you were returning home, Father." Erchirion moved closer to the window, touching the cushioned seat beside it. "Even after all this time I still expect her to be sitting by her window, reading her books, or practicing a new song." A lump rose in his throat. "I know that after we returned home, she almost never sang, but while we lived in Rivendell, the air was always so full of music it wasn't unnatural for her to join in song." He looked away from his father's face and back out the window, taking in the ocean below. "Even though she missed Dol Amroth dearly, she was happy with the elves. We were both happy. And to think," another tear spilled over, "I will never hear her sweet songs again."


Târêt, Near-Harad

September 3019

Yusraa and Na'man watched as the Oracle opened her eyes. She had been going in and out of the dreamlike state Yusraa had put her under months ago, but had never fully awakened. Yusraa could smell the herbs that she had set aflame to do just that. The herbs had another purpose as well. They would allow Yusraa to instill some of her will into the Oracle.

A few days before their return to Târêt, Na'man had suggested that the Oracle be kept in the state she had been in when they had captured her but Yusraa had refused. So long as her mind and spirit slept, she would not be able to receive the visions for which they had gone to such lengths to obtain. As soon as the Oracle's eyes completely opened she sat straight up and backed up into the corner of the long bed as far away from Yusraa as possible. Her gaze flitted to the doorway where Na'man stood, watching in silence.

"Thank the gods you're awake, my dear!" Yusraa recalled her attention and forcing their eyes to meet. A slightly confused expression mixed with the fear and distress already on her face. "You have been ill for some time and we had thought after so many days that you would never wake." The Oracle's anxiousness seemed to dispel somewhat as she heard Yusraa's false information. "Do you remember me?" She smiled warmly, like a parent to a hurt child.

The Oracle slowly shook her head and then stopped suddenly. "You!" She gasped. "You're the one who stole me away from Dol Amroth." She looked once more to Na'man, "Both of you did."

"That was only a dream." Again Yusraa called the Oracle's eyes to meet her own. "You were asleep for many days and your fever grew almost as hot as the desert sands. I feared that if you did live through the illness, you would no longer remember your home."

The Oracle's chin lifted. "My home is in Dol Amroth. I am a princess, a descendant of the line of Númenor. I grew up there as well as in the House of Lord Elrond Half-Elven of Rivendell." Her eyes flashed with an inner pride and strength. In response Yusraa smiled patiently though she felt irritation at the Oracle's attempts to fight her will.

"It was a dream. It is not uncommon for those who have been asleep for such a long time to create new lives and live them, sometimes to the very end of their life only to wake up once again young and renewed.". The Oracle began to diminish somewhat and Yusraa let the smile fall off her lips. "It is sad that you have forgotten me, since the two of us are such close friends." She reached forward and touched the Oracle's arm gently. "Do you at least remember your name?"

"Lothíriel," the Oracle's voice was quiet as she looked down at Yusraa's hand.

"No," Yusraa shook her head. "You are Mheydar. Lothíriel isn't real. You dreamt her. But do not worry. With my help you will forget the dream soon."


Mheydar's head pounded as if it was being struck by a hammer over and over again. Trying to think, to remember her dream of Lothíriel only made the pain more pronounced. As more time passed, the less she could recall. Indeed, quickly enough Mheydar couldn't even remember why she had been so miserable in the dream. She wondered if she would ever be able to visit that dream world again. Out of everything she could remember, two things stuck out to her. First was that in the dream she had been able to see the future and secondly was the scent of a man, though whenever she tried to imagine his face or name the pounding in her head increased until she relented.

"I don't remember your name." She turned her face towards the stern looking man in the doorway, "Or his name." Her brows knit together. "But you were in my dream, near the end I think. You had a bird."

"I am Yusraa and that is Lord Na'man. He rules this city." Yusraa stood and approached a window on the other side of the chamber and opened it. Almost immediately a black raven flew into the room and landed gracefully on her waiting arm. "This is Cel, my companion." She placed him on a perch close to the open window. Taking a seat beside the raven she pointed at Cel. "He allowed both Lord Na'man and myself to follow you into your dream so that we might pull you out of it before you decided to never wake from it."

"I'm sorry." Mheydar sighed, "I just don't remember anything. I don't know anything about the city or you."

"You will learn." Na'man spoke before Yusraa had a chance. He studied Mheydar's face for a few minutes before nodding to Yusraa. "I am satisfied. See that she is settled in the tower and find her some new clothes." He left the room almost before Yusraa could finish acknowledging him. Mheydar looked down to see that she was wearing what most likely used to be a white dress. It was now a bit discolored, though she couldn't figure out why. Yusraa came towards her and helped her stand.

She guided her out of the chamber the same way that Na'man had gone though they ended up taking a turn towards some spiraling stairs. The numerous stairs would have been in pitch darkness if not for the occasional candle on the walls. After they had climbed too many stairs to recall, they arrived at a large, metal door. Yusraa pushed and it swung open without a sound.

The room itself was large and circular. The walls circled only halfway around before cutting off. Outside of the absent walls was a large balcony. To the side of the door was a large circular bed. Dropping from the ceiling were sheer curtains of red and yellow that hung over and around the bed. To the side of the bed was a screen and behind it, Mheydar could see the silver lip of a bathtub jutting out. On the other side of the room was a small pit for a fire as well as some chairs and a small table. On the table was a bowl of round fruits Mheydar did not remember ever seeing before. Walking forward she stepped out onto the balcony and a gust of wind whipped her hair around her.

From how high up she was she could see the entire city spanning for miles. Surrounding the city was a large wall and outside were fields that eventually turned into sand. The sky above was a clear blue that met the sands at the horizon. For a second she imagined that instead of the yellow sand there would be green grass going on for what must have been forever. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. When she turned back she saw another woman beside Yusraa.

She was taller than Mheydar and had dark skin. She wore a brown dress that with a leather vest over it. Around her neck was the same leather as the vest though it was tight, much like the collar of an animal. Her hair was long and black and braided together. In her arms she carried an elaborate dress. She laid it out onto the mattress of Mheydar's bed and stood beside it silently, waiting for Mheydar to approach. Yusraa beckoned Mheydar over when she didn't move from the balcony and she finally returned to the room.

"We must get you out of the clothes you were ill in." Yusraa snapped her fingers and the other girl hastened over. She quickly pulled the dirtied, white dress off of Mheydar so that she stood before Yusraa naked. "No doubt you would like to bathe. I have had water readied before you awoke. We will speak more later." She turned to leave out from the door, but hesitated and turned back. She pointed to the other woman. "That is Hind, your slave. Lord Na'man picked her especially for you." Before exiting the room, Yusraa's eyes met Hind's and there was hardness in her expression.

As Mheydar heard the latch to the door close, she turned her attention to Hind. As she studied the young woman, a feeling of uneasiness fell upon her. Although she could not recall how she had felt about such things in the past, the thought of slavery, of owning another human being just like one would own a horse or dog struck her as wrong. Hind did not say a word as Mheydar stared at her. Even her face, which was smooth and tanned, remained entirely neutral.

"I am sorry," Mheydar came forward. "I did not mean to stare."

"My lady is permitted to do anything she wishes with me. There is no need to apologize." Hind's words were colored by a slight accent. Mheydar cringed inwardly.

"I don't think I, or truly anyone, does." She smiled self-deprecatingly. "Perhaps I could speak to Yusraa or Lord Na'man about it." Hind's neutral expression gave way to consternation for an instant.

"That is the way of life, as I have learned, Lady." She was very quiet, as if someone might overhear. "If I did not belong to you, I would belong to another until at last I greeted death."

"But you shouldn't belong to anyone." Mheydar sighed. "You are your own person." Hind smiled slightly in response.

"I am glad to serve someone who believes that." She glanced at the door. "Now, would you perhaps like to take your bath now, before the water grows cold?" Mheydar nodded and made her way around the dividing wall.


Na'man stared out towards the city of Târêt that spanned out before him. His family had ruled over it since its conception around the large spring in the center of the city. That spring had been greatly contested over by Prince and Chieftain alike throughout the deserts of Harad. It still would be if his great-grandfather had not thought to build the large wall surrounding not only the city itself, but the small farms that fed its inhabitants as well.

There were still the occasions where he needed to ride out and prove his strength to the nomadic tribes who felt they were justified to take Târêt from him. He also had been nursing the desire to expand his territory over the sands until at last he ruled not just one or two rooted cities – as the nomads called them – but the whole of Harad and its people. That was precisely why he needed the Oracle.

He had been somewhat surprised at how easy it had been to take the Oracle as well as convince her of who she was. He knew he shouldn't have been the least bit shocked. Yusraa had always had the talent for bending others to her will. If his father had not sent him to the desert sages to train both his body and mind at the tender age of four, he would never have trusted Yusraa. But, he had shown his ability to rule over her without a fault, and he knew she respected that. A knock sounded behind him and Yusraa entered his study.

She bowed in the traditional manner – two fingers gently touching the forehead, then three fingers touching her lips and finally bowing her head as her palm was placed over her heart.

"I see you've settled in." He smiled to himself and turned back towards the city below. "Have you seen to the Oracle?"

"Indeed, my lord. She seems to have settled well. How soon did you want to see her?" Yusraa came closer to him. He turned his head and met her purple eyes. He could see in her expression she wanted to touch him, though she knew better than to do so without his approval.

"I will see her after my supper. Just ensure that she is prepared for what I want." He reached forward and touched her cheek gently letting a small smile tug at one corner of his mouth. "Perhaps then, if all goes well, you'll deserve my attention." Dropping his hand, he let his face return to its previous expression. "Now go. I wish to be alone and think."


When Yusraa returned, Mheydar had just finished her bath and was sitting in just a robe made of soft, thin silk whilst Hind brushed her hair. Yusraa had changed out of the garments she had been wearing earlier and now wore a long, dark purple dress with golden embroidery along the sides. On her shoulder was Cel. And on both arms she wore armlets that had sheer golden fabric that matched the stitching dropping gracefully down her dress, only to stop a few feet from the ground. Her long white hair was loose except for the braids running down from the center of her head. Pinned through the braid were three white jewels that sat on her forehead. She casually strode over to the table and picked up one of the pieces of fruit from the bowl before walking across the room to Mheydar.

"You must be feeling somewhat refreshed." She smiled warmly as she handed the fruit to Mheydar. "You should eat something before you go down to speak with Lord Na'man."

"What does he want to speak to me about?" Mheydar held the small, round fruit in her hand and studied it. The outside was like thin leather that had been died a bright red.

"Your visions. What you remember about them, and even if you remember how to call upon them." Yusraa took the fruit from her hand and pulled the fruit apart, revealing a multitude of dark red seeds all bunched together.

"So that wasn't just something from the dream?" Mheydar sighed. "I suppose it would be an odd thing to just dream up." She pulled one of the seeds out and put it in her mouth. A sensation of sweetness tempered with a bitter aftertaste filled her mouth.

"You don't know how to call upon your visions then? To see what you wish to see." Yusraa's smile faded and a troubled look worked its way into her eyes. Mheydar tried to think back, but the only thing she could recall was her dream and as she tried to focus and remember her experiences from that, the pounding sensation in her head began again.

"I can only remember what I knew in my dream. When I was named," she hesitated and her brow knit together and the pounding was joined by a painful squeezing that made it nearly impossible to focus. "I can't remember what my name was in the dream. It is odd that I should forget a dream I had experienced for so long."

Yusraa narrowed her eyes as she focused sharply on Mheydar. "It would be for the best if you did not think back on that dream ever again. You are Mheydar. You will always be Mheydar." She waited for Mheydar to nod before her features relaxed and the smiled returned. "It is of no matter. I know how to teach you to call your power. We will begin to train you so that you will be able to help Lord Na'man defeat all his enemies." She turned and held up the dress that was still lying on the bed. "Now, once you've eaten, we will dress you and then you can have your talk with him."


Na'man scrutinized Mheydar as she stood in the Haradric dress he had specifically chosen for her. The dress had two layers in the traditional colors of Harad: blood red and sunset orange. The orange and red pattern on the first layer sported a geometric design of circles with diamonds connecting to each other. The top layer was a solid red that folded in the front like a robe and was pinned together by a gold and red brooch. Around her waist was a belt gelded with gold. The fabric had been cut in such a way that there was no fabric over the hips but simply fell down the middle of the front and back of the legs, leaving the first layer exposed. Hanging from the shoulders of the dress were open sleeves that nearly reached the floor. Her hair had been braided so that it circled around the back of her head though the end of it had been tied and left to hang over her shoulder. In front of the braid, a headpiece that greatly resembled a crown with rubies exactly the same color as her dress, rested atop her head.

"You look just as someone of your position should look, my dear." He touched the silky fabric of the sleeves. He knew that although Mheydar was not used to the climate of Harad – no matter what Yusraa had been able to convince her – the silk would help to keep her cool, even on the hottest of days. "You remember what you are?"

"Yusraa reminded me, my lord." She glanced over to the enchantress.

"And your duties?" He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning her attention back on him.

"She told me of them too, though I regret that I do not remember how to do what you need." Na'man's hand dropped as irritation began to grow like a weed. "Though she did say she knows how to teach me." Mheydar quickly added.

"You'll remember, my lord, that my time growing under the sages taught me many things." Yusraa cut in.

"Very well," Na'man sighed. He had known that he would most likely have to be patient. A proud smile crept onto his face as a familiar thought struck him. "Train under Yusraa. We will see what you are capable of soon, I am sure. But do not take to long to learn, Oracle. All of Harad should not have to suffer another day of not having a capable ruler such as me."