"Mariel!"
A snicker burst out of her mouth, covered by her hands, as she cowered behind a large rose bush. She could hear her cousin, Erchirion, stomping through the gardens along one of the many paths.
"Three, two, one," she whispered.
"AHHHHHHH!"
She winced, the smirked.
"Mariel, Lothiriel, I'm going to string you up by your braids when I get to you!" He hollered.
She snickered again, peering through a gap in the rosebush to see if she could catch a glimpse of her male cousin. He was almost nine years older than her, and for the most part could be called a serious youth set upon devouring the contents of the castle library like an aged scribe. She and Lothiriel enjoyed drawing him out and into their games, which oftentimes got just a little carried away for his taste.
Ah, there he came round the bend in the path, covered in a bright gooey concoction that she and Lothiriel had come up with after their raid to the kitchen pantry earlier that morning. To that goo had been added a delightful array of chicken, goose, and quail feathers, making him look like much like she could imagine one of the famed ostriches from Southern Harad she had read about in her lessons last week. His dark hair was sticking up at odd angles because of the goo, and his face was a bright shade of beet red. He was muttering to himself as he stomped along, trying to brush off the feathers that had gotten stuck to his tunic via the goo while looking around him warily at the same time.
"Seriously? You're going to wish that you hadn't dumped this stuff on me, Father is going to be furious when the delegation arrives in a few minutes and I'm not presentable." He sighed, reaching up to his face, but thinking better of it when he realized his hands were covered in the goo also.
Delegation? What delegation? She wondered, then about screamed. Not that delegation! She ditched her spot among the roses and booked her way through the garden towards the side door, hearing Erchirion bellow behind her. Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she skidded around a corner, then dashed up a set of side stairs. How could she have forgotten that the Haradrim delegation was supposed to arrive today? Her mother had talked about it vehemently for the last two and a half weeks to her father, going on an on about how untrustworthy they were, etc. It was very important for Dol Amroth, and for Gondor, that this meeting went off without a hitch, which meant that all royal persons had to be presentable and down at the palace entrance when the two o'clock bell tolled over the bay.
Glancing up at a clock on the wall as she passed, she put on another burst of speed, rounding another corner a bit fast on her slippered feet. She had less than ten minutes to wash her mud streaked face and change into a gown that didn't have the remains of her and Lothiriel's concoction on it, and get down to the entrance. She was going to be cutting it close. She heard another set of steps pattering behind her, then a nervous giggle as Lothiriel slipped past her into her own room, an equal look of panic and concern on her pale face. She smiled over at her cousin, winked, then slipped into her own room to quickly change into her next best dress and matching beaded headband.
Tripping over themselves, the two of them barely made it to their assigned places next to their parents before the bell tolled. Looking over at her cousin, they nodded at each other silently agreeing that it had been a close call. Schooling her face, Mariel pasted on her "it's a royal function" smile and tried to stand as straight as possible. She felt her mother's hands smoothing down her headscarf and straightening the headband that kept it in place.
"You just made it, screawa(shrew), were you busy causing trouble?" She whispered.
"Naneth!" Mariel hissed, pushing away the hands that continued to smooth wrinkles and straighten her clothes."Why must you use that horrible nickname?"
Her mother chuckled, "Because you are a busybody, full of energy and spunk."
"Nane-"
"Hush, child, here they come." A hand came to rest upon her shoulder, and she turned towards the gates, expectantly.
And my did she have something to look at, as each pair of horses trotted through the gate there was an overwhelming array of colors and sounds. Men wearing brightly colored turbans of turquoise, magenta, and orange rode through, golden earrings and bangles jingling like little fairy bells with each step of they're mounts. Their mounts, which her eyes were immediately drawn too were large, black beasts with wild, excitable eyes and high steps. They were strong and agile, and yet built for speeding across dry desert sands. She admired their long necks and angular faces while sighing as she watched their smooth gait as they hurried up to the stairs that led into the palace. The horses were dressed as brightly as their masters with purples, golds, and bright lime green saddle blankets and colorful tassels hanging from the reigns and bridles. Her eyes soaked up the view, her ears completely ignoring whatever was being said on the steps of the palace between her grandfather and the men who had dismounted. She was so completely transfixed that it took her mother's sharp finger jabbing her in the soft part of her side to snap out of it.
Blinking, she made sure that she wasn't standing their with her mouth open as their guests stepped in front of them in greeting. The first was a tall young man who looked to be a few years older than her cousin Erchirion. He had a long crazy main of curly black hair that was partially braided to his scalp in neat little rows till it reached the back of his head where is cascaded down to meet his muscular shoulders. His eyes were a very deep brown, almost black, and unnerving. She gulped.
"Greetings, Princess, Lord Jerome, Princess Mariel, it is a pleasure to be here in this remarkable city," his words, though flattering, had a subtle ring of distain which made Mariel shiver. His eyes fastened onto her face, and she froze, captivated by his dark, fathomless, eyes. It was unnerving, but she couldn't put her finger on what exactly about them made her feel as if she was being watched by some sort of predator. His grin twisted into more of a smirk, which was gone in the next moment when Ivriniel gave him a frosty smile of her own.
"Why, you must be Prince Abdul," she said, grinning like a cat playing with a mouse, "It is such a pleasure to meet you. I'm surprised that your father let you travel so far from home, considering all of your brothers remained behind."
His smile grew strained, and a throbbing vein popped up on his forehead, "Yes, he felt that it would better serve me as the next in line to the throne to gain experience in diplomacy, along with getting acquainted with our neighbors. My brother's are all still quite young."
"I'm sure-
"Ahh, Abdul, you've met the alluring Ivriniel, who among women there is none to compare," a booming voice called out as a large, fat fingered hand clamped down on Prince Abdul's shoulder, giving it a warning squeeze. The hand was followed by the body of a tall, but rotund body of a man, his long black beard curling over his ample tummy. "I do so wish you had consented to my father's offer of marriage all those years ago, you would have been a swan among the geese of my harem."
Mariel looked closely at her mother's face and saw her flinch minutely at the remark, an almost haunted look coming into her eyes, but it was quickly washed away with a kind, if not wary smile. "Ebrahim, such a delightful coincidence, I wasn't informed that you were coming along with this delegation." She turned to her husband, laying a slightly shaking hand on his muscular arm, "You remember my husband, Jerome?"
Jerome gave the man a smile that bordered on threatening, placing a hand over his wife's, his strong fingers wrapping around her thing, delicate ones.
"Why, yes! Yes, I vaguely do, it has been so many years," Ebrahim said, smiling as if nothing was wrong.
Mariel looked pensively between her parents and the plump man, wondering what the story was behind the strange behavior she was seeing. It was very odd, she scrunched her nose and a small wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows as she cocked her head to one side.
"Father?" Came a soft, uncertain voice from behind the prince and Ebrahim.
Ebrahim turned, a genuine smile blooming on his chubby face. In the next second a young boy around her own age was gently pushed in front of her. "This is Bashar, my firstborn son."
The boy was tall for his age, and gangly, his long arms and legs making him look rather like a young foal who was unsteady on his feet. He had a mop of black hair that fell into his eyes, which he seemed to find comfort in hiding behind. Behind the curls his eyes twinkled brightly, a bright forest green that made them stick out in his dark brown face. Those eyes kept darting to something being Mariel, which she couldn't see, full of curiosity and wonder. He had a kind smile, one that she assumed would easily break into a musical laugh.
"Hello," he murmured, just above a whisper.
"What was that, son? We couldn't hear you," his father's stern voice seemed to jolt him out of his daydream and he stood up a little straighter.
"Forgive me," he said with a small bow, "It is a pleasure to be welcomed in such a grand house. May the One grant you many blessings." He bowed again, then smiled uncomfortably.
"Yes, yes, cousin, such a lovely place," Abdul muttered, rolling his eyes.
Mariel smiled at the boy, "And may the Valar bring many blessings to you."
Her mother placed her hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her closer, "Well, it is nice to meet you, Bashar, we hope that you enjoy your time here in Dol Amroth."
The boy nodded, and went to open his mouth, but another, louder voice spoke first.
"Come, let us show our guests to their rooms and allow them to refresh themselves before the evening meal, we do not want to overtax them when they have already journeyed much these past few weeks."
Mariel would always wonder how her grandfather got his voice to carry so efficiently over such a crowd of people and still be heard, it never ceased to fascinate her. Turning with her parents, she fell into step between them as they ushered their guests through the door. She caught the eye of her cousin, Lothiriel, and grinned. It was going to be an interesting next couple of weeks. She was excited.
And it definitely lived up to her expectations. The children were mostly put out of doors, or herded away from the adult conversations and discussions, which gave Mariel and her cousins the ability to get to know Bashar. Prince Abdul rarely joined them, but when he did he constantly berated and talked down about Dol Amroth and its surrounding neighbors. If he was not complaining or stating his opinion on this or that thing that was in fact so much better in Harad, he was staring silently at both Lothiriel and Mariel, which was unnerving. They were very glad when he did not join in their play.
One sunny morning, a week after the Haradrim had arrived, Mariel was skipping through the garden, running her finger along the leaves of different plants and humming to herself. She tried to mimic the dancing that she had seen at the ball that had been held the night before…which she had been put in bed early for, but had snuck down the stairs on stockinged feet, Lothiriel following closely on her tail. The elegant steps and twirls had entranced her. Closing her eyes, she twirled, then bent her knees, trying to imitate the movement that had reminded her of a waving willow tree, and then stood up on her tip toes while spreading her arms elegantly out to her sides, then bringing them in. She giggled, her musical laugh echoing around the garden, bouncing off the walls and fading away. She skipped, did another elegant twirl, almost tripped on her gown, caught herself, coming to a stop in front of a flowering dahlia plant. Leaning forward, she sniffed the flower before reaching out and picking a few and weaving them together with some of the ferns and ranunculus that were nearby. She twisted the final flower into place, connecting the two sides, the lifted it up to rest upon her head.
Giving a little jump of joy, she continued her meandering, adding in little spins, twirls, and reserved jumps as she continued along, no destination in mind. So lost in her own world, she didn't notice the dark shadow that followed after her, watching her every move. Dark eyes followed the graceful movements of her arms, the elegant twirls, and the gentle leaps across the garden, till the small figure stopped by the lily pond. Silent steps brought the intruder closer, till he stood just behind her, watching her intently. Twirling around after retrieving a lily, Mariel gasped.
"Oh, oh, my," she smiled nervously. "I didn't hear you, Prince Abdul."
He grinned, and she shivered, not sure how to read the hungry look in his dark, snake like eyes.
"I'm sorry that I startled you so," he said, but his tone didn't sound all that apologetic.
An awkward silence followed his insincere reply. She shifted uneasily, feeling like a small rabbit cornered by the much larger fox. Hoping to break the strange, heavy laden silence she lifted up the flower she had plucked from the water.
"Would you like this lily?" she asked, unsure what else to say.
His grin grew even more fox-like, hungry, as he took the flower, "I would, I would enjoy all your flowers."
He took a step closer, causing her to retreat against the raised stone lip of the lily pond. The backs of her thighs bumped against it as she tried to get as far from him as possible, her breath coming in soft, yet quick, pants. He advanced another step, leaning down over her to the point that his nose touched a lock of her loosely curled hair. He inhaled deeply, then reached out a hand to tuck the stray curl behind her ear, his white teeth glinting as he smiled even larger. She shuddered, then narrowed her eyes at him, angry that he was making her feel helpless.
"Leave me alone," she growled, using the both of her hands to push at his chest, all the while her heart was pounding a mile a minute in her chest.
"I don't think so," he said grabbing her wrist and drawing her closer to him, eyes flashing, "You're just too tempting."
She pushed against him, glaring, "I said leave me alone."
He chuckled as she pushed against him, the evil youth, enjoying her struggle, "I'll never leave you alone. One day you will be mine, and maybe that pretty little cousin of yours too."
She froze, Lothiriel's face flashing before her minds-eye. Dear little Lothiriel who was such a light and joy to all those around her. She glared up at him, an evil smirk growing on her face. "I don't think so, neither of us will ever be yours." She raised her knee and rammed it up as sharply as she could into his crotch.
He gasped, pain exploding in his eyes as he doubled over, his hands releasing her wrists. She then punched him in the eye with her fist before turning and running as fast as she possibly could towards the door that entered the palace, her feet not moving fast enough for her liking. Tears streamed down her face as she heard him call after her.
"One day, one day you will be mine, otherwise your family will suffer, mark my words, I will see it done!"
She shuddered, fleeing as far from him as she could get, before coming to an abrupt halt as she bumped into something solid, and soft. Looking up she burst into another bout of tears, throwing herself into her father's arms.
"Mariel, buttercup, what's the matter?! Why the tears?"
Abdul's words would come to haunt her in the years to come.
"He WHAT!"
"That's what Mariel told me," Jerome's voice stated tiredly.
"Well, he can go shove it up-
"Darling!"
"Or go jump of the cliff," she muttered, eyes flashing angrily.
Hers were not the only ones flashing. Four other sets of eyes were equally as angry, faces set in a grim line. Adrahil, Imrahil, Elphir, and Erchirion all were seated within the private study that belonged to Jerome and Ivriniel, various shades of red blotching their hardened faces.
"I can't believe he would say such a things, and to a nine year old? It's completely inappropriate!" Imrahil growled.
"I feel about ready to run the brute through myself," Elphir state, fingering the handle of a long dagger contemplatively, his other hand clenching and unclenching.
"We'd never betroth either of the girls to him, especially with them being so young," Adrahil stated tiredly, running his wrinkled hand through his white hair. "Besides that, to even discuss it with the girls is a breach of etiquette, I don't care if the same thing has been brought up in our meetings with Prince Abdul and his councilors, he was out of line."
"I don't think that he saw a problem with it," Erchirion stated, looking thoughtful, but no less angry, "From what his councilors stated, and from what little we know about their customs, girls as young, or younger than Lothiriel are betrothed to men ten or fifteen years older than themselves, if not older than that," the last part he muttered barely audible.
"That's still not an excuse," Ivriniel stated, crossing her arms over her chest while looking pensively out the window at the raging sea that crashed up against the cliffs of the bay. A fierce storm had swept down the coast that afternoon and into the evening, matching the mood of those gathered.
"No, it's not," a comforting hand came to rest on her shoulder. Looking up, she stared into the face of her aged father, fear evident in her eyes.
"Will it be like when I was a young woman and they visited?" She whispered, closing her eyes to banish the memories. "Will Mariel and Lothiriel have to go through the same experience I did?"
"No," Adrahil stated firmly, a steely look coming into his eyes, "I have already told them that a chance at a betrothal with either of the girls is out of the question, but they may push for it in the coming years if we cannot find something else that will be equally as desirable to them."
"But will they have to deal with the constant fear that they might be snagged by someone in a dark alley, or hunted down like a stag?" Ivriniel asked, tears threatening to spill.
"No," Jerome stated, "We can take them to live at our manor in the hills until this all dies down," here he looked at Imrahil, "If that is agreeable to you."
Imrahil rubbed a hand over his face, "I have no disagreements, once this Prince Abdul and his councilors leave. I don't want them to learn where the girls have disappeared too if they happen to decide to send another diplomatic envoy. Hopefully they can return without having to fear anything."
"We will still be vigilant, but I believe they will be safe," Adrahil agreed.
"So we will leave in a fortnight?" Jerome asked, looking between his wife, who had a distant look in her eyes, to his brother-in-law.