Princess of Arnor - The King's Regent (Under Edit)

Chapter Five: The Eaves of War

"If my kinsman fails. Then darkness will come for all of us and my people shall indeed become little more than stories." - Thorwen

15th March/ Gwaeron 3019, Thorwen's chamber

The stars in the night sky guided Almarie's ship as it sailed up the firth. The vessel was made of ebony wood with sails made of silver cloth, which displayed her master's sigil. Dressed in a silver gown and black cloak, she emerged from the cabin and made her way to the prow as Mithlond came into view. She saw two figures waiting to receive her at the quayside and frowned. She knew five Istari had gone to Middle Earth, yet it appeared only one had come to her.

Despite his long white hair and robes, there was no mistaking Curumo. A friend from her days with Aule. But where were the others? Where were Alatar and Pallando? Her dear cousin Olorin and, more importantly, her brother Aiwendil? Had something happened to them? Was it her mission to help them?

Lord Namo had not told her of what she was to do, as he had said it would influence her free will. All she was told was that she would be raised among mortals and learn their ways. She was asked to be more humble than her kindred, who had already left for Middle Earth in the guise of wise old men. To transform herself into little more than a seed and mingle with the blood of mortals once she had found the people who were to become her parents. Then re-enter the world and grow as any other mortal child. When she had asked how she would know what her mission was, Namo had simply replied that she was the instrument of Eru Iluvatar and that he would guide her.  "I have done all I was asked. I can tell you no more."

The other figure was holding a lantern. He was an Elf but was one of those who had taken to growing a beard. Namo had told her of this one and that he would be there to welcome her. As the ship docked, the black and silver-clad servants prepared for disembarkation. Almarie covered her bright silver hair with her hood and strode down the gangplank.

Curumo took her hand as she stepped onto the quay. "Almarie, Welcome to Middle Earth. It is good to see you again."

But Almarie was in no mood for pleasantries. "Where is Aiwendil and the others?"

Curumo smiled thinly. "As head of our order, I felt it was best that I met you alone. It would attract less attention." He turned to the bearded Elf holding the lantern. "This is Cirdan, Lord of Lindon"

Cirdan smiled and bowed low. "Welcome my Lady. You have come a long way. You are welcome to rest in my house till you are ready to go onward."

"Lord Cirdan, you are most kind. But my time here is short and I am eager to get to my destination." She turned back to Curumo. "Tell me of the people I am to be born to."

Curumo cleared his throat. "Perhaps it would be better to discuss such things in my study. I have a humble abode in the south. You are welcome to rest there and we can discuss all your.... questions privately." He then muttered a few words under his breath and a portal appeared in front of them. He then held out his hand to Almarie with a wide smile. "Come, my lady, we have much to discuss."

Almarie looked into his eyes and saw a hint of something she had never seen before. Something she did not exactly trust. She had always known him to be proud and a little vain, but this was something different. But before she could take Curumo's hand, the sound of stick on stone caught their attention. And slowly, out of the shadows came an old man in grey robes, wearing a pale blue hat and holding a long staff.

Cirdan smiled broadly. "Ah Mithrandir, I felt sure you would come."

A look of anger flashed across Curumo's face and he dismissed the portal. "Olorin!" cried Almarie. Her joy at seeing her cousin overflowing. She strode over to him and they embraced. "I have missed you."