I will say, first and foremost, that I obviously own nothing Tolkien. I could never fathom to imagine all that he accomplished over 30+ years. That being said, I am merely borrowing from him, and I strive to follow the story as much as I can for the sake of my own. If you find something wrong or would like to question me about something, feel free!

Enjoy!

Chapter One - A Day in the Life

Lothíriel still felt the penetrating warmth of the rays of the sun through the thick, ivory blanket stuffed with swan feathers. Even through the various scattering of rabbit pelts overtop of the blanket, her eyelids betrayed her sleep-muddled mind and processed the golden rays of daylight. She burrowed deeper into the feather mattress of her bed and pulled the coverlet over her head, grumbling protests as her maid flitted about her sleeping chambers. Unbeknownst to Lothíriel's complaints, her maid went about pulling back the deep, navy curtains to allow more of the bothersome morning rays into the Princess's room.

"Time to rise, Princess." Celís chirped happily, drawing wide another set of curtains. "It is almost midmorning."

"Go away, Celís." Lothíriel grumbled while the older woman merely laughed and continued about the room. She went to the fire in the hearth and roused it, humming merrily, before approaching her mistress's four poster bed with her hands on her hips.

"That is not how any Gondorian lady should act." Celís curled aged fingers around the coverlet and yanked unceremoniously, revealing her charge curled into a tight ball, black hair strewn about the white linen like liquid.

"Celís!" Lothíriel groaned, grappling for the linen with a blind hand. "I want to sleep a little longer!"

"You've already missed breakfast, my lady; you do not want to miss archery practice with your brothers as well."

At the mention of food, Lothíriel let out another unladylike groan and sat up slowly, brushing a lock of waist-length hair out of her face and blinking grouchily against the rays of the sun. "I missed breakfast?"

"Aye," the maid chortled, moving to a small table by the hearth. "But your unfailing and loyal maid saved you a hearty plate."

The Princess of Dol Amroth beamed sleepily, before letting out a yawn befit a lion and stretching pale arms above her head languorously. "I knew I kept you around for a reason, Celís."

"That, and to keep you out of trouble." Celís brought over a tray of porridge and biscuits, as well as a side of ham and an apple, to her mistress.

"I do not get into trouble." Lothíriel scoffed, crossing her slim legs beneath her on the bed, draping her white, linen shift around her before reaching for the food. "I am trouble."

"Aye, and don't I well know it." Celís replied, moving to her mistress's wardrobe to pull an outfit out for her for the day.

"Archery in the morning, lunch with your nephew in the afternoon, and don't forget you promised him a turn on the pony your father purchased for him." Celís was saying while Lothíriel ate energetically at her breakfast, sipping at the strong tea that accompanied it. "There is a storm brewing off the coast, so I think the waters may be a bit too choppy for sailing this afternoon."

"But it is more fun if the waters are rough!"

"And what am I to tell your father when you drown?" Celís turned to her with a raised eyebrow and a gown sewn of sea green, with light embroidery around the square neck.

"Ladies born of the sea do not drown." Lothíriel remarked, managing to sound haughty around a mouthful of food.

"Do not talk with your mouth full! Have the last twenty years of gentle upbringing gone completely unheard?"

"No," Lothíriel swallowed, beaming happily. "But you try growing up with three brothers."

"I had four." Celís chastised, though she could not hide a smile from her beloved lady. "Up you go now, off to archery practice. Make haste, make haste!"

Chewing upon her apple and humming a lively tune, Lothíriel made her way from her personal chambers to the throne room. She was looking forward to besting her brothers at archery on such a fine morning; so much so, her preoccupied mind didn't comprehend the raised voices coming from the throne room. However, upon entering the mighty room she came to find her father and three brothers, as well as a man whose sigil had him hailing from Lebennin, in the midst of a heated discussion that, by the sounds of it, shouldn't have included her. She stopped abruptly and ducked into the shadows of the stone columns lining the throne room, tucking her quiver and bow behind her as to not give her away.

"More attacks have come from the east, my Lord. Orcs and uruk-hai are raiding our villages, pilfering from our people, killing our women and children!"

Her father, the Prince of Dol Amroth Imrahil himself, paced before the dais, unbeknownst to her presence hidden in the shadows of the stone columns. His salt and pepper hair, falling to just brush his shoulders, billowed about his head, his tunic emblazoned with the swan of Dol Amroth proud on his chest. Her brothers stood in a small group across the hall from her, and despite her best efforts to stay concealed she caught Amrothos's eye. He stayed silent, but warned her to keep hidden with a solemn shake of his head.

"The droves are getting thicker, coming more frequently. Our people are being hunted and do not understand why! They do not know of this threat that plagues them unmercifully!" The messenger was incensed, yet his anger was shared in the way the guards in the room shifted restlessly and her brothers exchanged looks between one another.

"The shadow in the east grows." Imrahil said more to himself than anyone else, a hand poised on his bearded chin.

"My Lord, what would you have us do?" the messenger asked in earnest, stepping toward the Prince.

There was a heartbeat of silence. "We need to send messages to our kinsmen." Prince Imrahil stated. His sons stood a little straighter as he swung his gaze their way. "We need to prepare our people for war.

"Elphir, Erchirion, Amrothos," he met each son in turn, and three sets of pale, grey eyes settled on their sire, steadfast and true. "You each will take with you six riders to warn our neighbors of these heinous sins cast upon us by the Dark Lord. It will not be tolerated; the Age of the Orc will not come to fruition while there is still breath in my body!"

Lothíriel squeezed her apple tightly, her heart beginning to beat wildly in her chest. Dark Lord? Are we to go to war? What is going on?

"Erchirion, cross through Edhellond and head for Anfalas. Speak to their liege, and then return here to prepare for battle." Imrahil turned to his youngest son, hard eyes glinting in the torchlight of the throne room. "Amrothos, ride to Rohan. Meet with King Théoden in Edoras, and then send word to me. You may need to stay with the King." He then turned to his eldest, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Elphir, ride to Minas Tirith. Speak with your uncle Denethor. I will have you stay there."

"But father—"

"No. You are my first heir. If there was trouble here, I would not want to lose you in it." Imrahil turned back to the messenger, who stood before his Prince ramrod stiff and awaiting his own orders. "Rest here for the night; the servants will see to it that you are given hot meals and a place to rest. Tomorrow, you all ride out."

Lothíriel's fingers closed tightly around her apple while her other hand retracted into a fist. Her jaw clenched hotly, and she had to stop herself from running into the middle of the room to demand her place amongst the children of Imrahil. She could almost hear her father's voice now:

"You are to stay here daughter. I could not risk your life."

She would fight, of course. "Then why have me trained in archery? Holding a bow before I could even walk?"

He would smile at her endearingly, maybe lay a gnarled hand on her cheek. "To hope that I would never see you have to use it."

She bristled, willing to fight to have her way. How many times had she been left behind on enemy raids and search parties? When her brothers went to different lands and helped her countrymen fight, she was left at home to practice her archery. Why could she not help? Why could she not fight for those that she loved? She cut a scathing glare filled with jealousy at her brothers as they, in unison, nodded and bowed to their liege lord.

"As you would have it, father."

The Prince nodded, then discarded them with a wave of his hand. He took his leave first, exiting the throne room to perhaps head to his own quarters. Lothíriel decided she would deal with him later and pursue her easiest target for information: Amrothos. Older by only a handful of years, they were similar in temperament and humor, and often got into more trouble together than not.

"Hail, brothers." Lothíriel said cheerily, stepping out from behind the stone column and taking another bite of her apple. "Ready to be bested by a female once more? It is time for our archery."

"Lothíriel," Erchirion made to step forward and take her proffered arm, but a knowing glance and a slight shake of his head from Elphir stilled him. Erchirion would want to tell her all that had transpired, talk her out of her anger, but the eldest of the brood, and the most boring, Lothíriel thought, would want to shelter her. Like their father. Their pretty little swan, stuck in her cage.

"Elphir and I beg of our leave of you. You'll only have Amrothos to beat this morning." Erchirion said, his smile not quite reaching his warm, grey eyes.

She cocked her head in mock innocence, chewing her apple thoughtfully. "Why so brother? Where has father gone?"

"We will speak of it tonight." Elphir cut in, throwing a cautionary glance at Amrothos that Lothíriel interpreted as keep quiet.

"If you insist." Lothíriel grabbed Amrothos and forced him to cradle her arm. "Shall we?"

She waited until they were bathed in morning light and the sounds of the ocean had faded, leaving the small castle behind them as they descended upon the training grounds.

"Well? Out with it; tell me what is going on."

Amrothos sighed, because he knew a battle against his sister was pointless. "Raids from the east have begun to plague us more and more. Father has known for some time now that there has been a grave danger upon us, but had hoped it would sort itself out. He has found that we are not so lucky. He wants us to carry word of the danger to our neighbors, to amass an army if need be and fight."

"Fight? Against whom?"

"Orcs." At her strange look, Amrothos elaborated. "Goblin mutants, led by the White Wizard Saurman. Haradrim from the south and mercenaries from the seas. Together they have created an army mightier than anything we could have ever imagined."

Fear gripped at Lothíriel. How had she never heard of any of this before? Her countrymen were in danger! "Why? For what purpose?"

"Power." Amrothos shrugged, as if he didn't understand. "You remember the tales of Sauron that Uncle Denethor used to tell us?" At her nod, he continued. "He is behind it all. He is raising these filthy creatures from the ground to wipe out the race of men. While the elves are leaving for the Undying Lands and the dwarves are all but isolated in their mountain halls, they leave us here to defend Middle Earth ourselves."

Lothíriel couldn't help but pick out the sour notes in his voice. She had never met an elf or a dwarf, but heard that the former were ruthless and hated the race of Men, thinking them weak and barbaric, and the latter were greedy and selfish.

"Sauron is after a ring," Amrothos continued. "The One Ring of Power. It can only be destroyed in the fires of Mordor and it is being carried by a hobbit by the name of Frodo Baggins to do just that. A motley group of nine, including our dear cousin Boromir, make up the Fellowship of the Ring. Their sole purpose is to help Frodo take the ring to Mordor."

"What happens if Sauron gets the ring? Why are we entrusting this deed to a hobbit?" She had seen a hobbit before; in fact, there was one that came down to trade his wood carvings at the docks every first Monday of the month. As small as children, with shaggy hair and big, hairy feet. Nothing spectacular. Why, Lothíriel was sure they didn't even wield weapons!

Amrothos shrugged. "I do not know much beyond that. However, I do know if Sauron gets his hands on the Ring of Power, those tales that you heard as a child will come to culmination."

Lothíriel could not suppress a shiver that stole up her spine. "Why has father not acted sooner?"

"He didn't think it would come to this point." Amrothos replied dismally.

"And he expects me to sit by and just wait while my brothers go to war? Not knowing if they will ever come back?" Lothíriel couldn't stop the bitterness from taking over her tone as they reached the practice yards. The men were used to seeing the Princess there by now, so the morning greetings were short, allowing Lothíriel to keep Amrothos focused on the conversation and not change the subject like he probably wanted to.

Amrothos cut her a stern look. "He does it not to spite you. He does it out of love, Lothíriel."

The Princess of Dol Amroth tucked away a piece of black hair that had come loose of her braided coronet as she slung her bow over her shoulder and reached for an arrow. With stormy grey eyes, she shot a look of contempt at her brother. "Love, pah! I want to fight for my kinsmen too!"

Amrothos watched her take the first shot, and shook his head when it hit the mark dead on. "Lothíriel… You do not know the ways of war. It is not all gallantry and victory. These foes that we face now…"

"I know, I know." She notched another arrow to her bow and let it fly just as quickly, once again rousing a disbelieving shake of his head from her brother. She threw a grin up at him, letting the singing of the released bow ring in his ears. "But who will be there to save you from the orcs when your clumsy fingers drop your sword?"

Amrothos threw back his raven-haired head and laughed heartily. "I will have to call to your spirit and pray that elven magic carries it my way."

They fell into easy banter then, the kind that the closest of siblings shared. Amrothos shared more information with her about the war taking foot and his thoughts on the matter, all the while never once noticing the spark in his sister's stormy, grey eyes.

Later that day Lothíriel took her nephew to saddle and led his pony around the yard with him for a few hours, telling him tales of his ancestors of Dol Amroth. All the while her mind was working on creating her own tale, one that would sure to make her stand out from her family tree.

Over the course of the afternoon, she had formed a plan that would see to it that she would experience adventure, traverse new lands, and play a part in this growing war. Not that she wanted to fight orcs or the lot! But she would not stand idly by either, no, not anymore. She wanted to do something! She wanted to break free of the cage of Dol Amroth!

When Alphros's mother came to collect him to ready for supper, Lothíriel had a stable hand saddle her own mare Seawind to take to the beach, for sailing had indeed been out of the question due to the impending weather.

And I would like to see the sea before I go.

"My lady, wait while I retrieve a guard to take with you." The stable master presented himself with a bow as Lothíriel, very much to his horror, hoisted herself up onto her horse. No doubt he had been forewarned by the stable hand that she intended to ride off alone, but she had no intention of taking a guard with her; she never did, and she was not about to start now. She graced the man with a smile so flourishing he blushed clear up to his receding hairline.

"No need, Borigan." She said, settling herself onto her saddle, her quiver and bow slung over one shoulder. She gave old Borigan a conspiratorially wink and bent down to give Seawind an affectionate pat to her neck. "Just send word to father I will be a little late for supper."

After all, that is part of the plan.

And without another word or giving the poor man a chance to answer, she spun Seawind around and took off across the courtyard before the castle, heading for the path to beach.

Her laughter danced on the wind tearing through her hair, pulling strands from the coronet Celís worked so diligently at this morning. Seawind took to the cobbles, forcing townsfolk heading home to nimbly move out of her way, though they spared her no anger. The beloved Princess of Dol Amroth could do no harm in their eyes. She had grown up as one of them, had always treated them fairly and with respect; in fact, many waved to her as she sprinted by on Seawind, her gown billowing about her booted feet.

Once they reached the rocky terrain of the hills before the beach, Lothíriel slowed her mount and took in the sight of the sun taking its final trek across the sky to disappear beneath the waves. Off in the distance the clouds were great, dark and ominous, threatening to overtake the sky with lightning and thunder. A fierce wind brought from the surf buffeted her slight body as she and Seawind wandered down to the beach, the sand now soft and quiet beneath her hooves.

"I have a plan, Seawind." Lothíriel shared with her mare, causing the beast to turn her ears back as if she were truly listening.

"I am going on an adventure." Lothíriel breathed, her eyes glittering in the golden light of the fading sun. She pulled Seawind to a halt and faced the ocean, a smile tugging at the corners of her dusky pink lips. "I will make father so angry at dinner tonight that he will not deem to ask for me until well into tomorrow, and by then it will be too late! For you see," She leaned down against the neck of her mare and lowered her voice as if someone were there to overhear her. "I am going to go with Amrothos to Rohan! No, he will not know. I will have Celís steal the clothes of one of the guards, and drug him so he does not wake on the morrow in time to leave. How you ask? You know good and well, Seawind, her husband works at the Houses of Healing here in Dol Amroth! I will simply bid her to fetch poppy juice, and put it in the guard's wine." She laughed at her own cunning; it had taken her all day to think of such a plan!

She straightened in the saddle, and Seawind moved side to side, as if not liking the plan one bit. "I know, I'm sorry, for you know I cannot take you. I'll have to ride a warhorse if I am to fit in with a pack of men, pretend to be one of them. But I will not be gone long! Rohan is but a few days ride from here, and we will not be staying long. I do not think so, anyway."

Gripping the reins with a heady sense of adventure and her heart light, Lothíriel grinned to the sea, turning Seawind back towards the mighty castle of Dol Amroth. She wouldn't miss her home at all, she told herself, as she kicked Seawind into a gallop along the beach. She was going to help her kinsmen, to break free of her cage, and create her own tale of wonder!

I most enjoy any questions, comments, or concerns you may have, so feel free to leave me some. :]