Dreams of Power [ Lord of the Rings x Silmarillion ]

Eyes Up

Alphros laughed merrily as his white steed galloped across the green fields of Dol Amroth. Small patches of wildflowers sat scattered here and there. Coming to halt, he drew his beautiful sword. He clashed blades noisily with a boy who soon caught up to him, riding upon a brown horse

"Keep your eyes up, Ýridhren!" Alphros reminded the boy across from him. "There. Much better!"

"Should we be riding so far from the city, my lord?" asked Ýridhren skittishly.

Alphros laughed. "Surely you jest? There hasn't been worse than ruffians in these parts in fifty years!"

With a grimace, Ýridhren shrugged. He supposed the eighteen year old was right. "How long until the Rangers come get you?"

"Should be any day now," Alphros told him as they clashed swords again.

Between the next clash, Ýridhren sighed with a smile. "What an honor! To be selected to train with Lord Aderthon."

"Truly!" The other, older boy nodded. "It is a privilege. I will be sure to return and teach you all I know, my friend."

Alphros and Ýridhren had met years ago. The younger boy, Ýridhren, was not nobility in Dol Amroth, but a peasant from the outlying farmsteads. When Alphros' mother had fallen severely ill eight years ago, ten year old Alphros had been amazed at the skill that then eight year old Ýridhren's mother had in healing. The boys began to play, and since then had become fast friends.

Alphros was outgoing, rash, but always seen with a smile or laughter on his face. He was the best young swordsman in Dol Amroth, and some said in all of what was once Southern Gondor. In contrast was Ýridhren. A shy, reserved, and kindly boy, sixteen year old Ýridhren humored his best friend by learning swordplay, but loved especially to learn herb lore and history.

As they rode at a trot that late morning, Ýridhren stopped dead in their tracks. He thought he heard something. Turning to Alphros, he was about to speak when Alphros froze as well. Just on the edge of hearing they detected new voices.

"Dismount," ordered the older boy as he slid off his white horse.

Ýridhren followed, taking hold of Alphros' steed and tying them both to a nearby tree. They were near the coast and it was common for ruffians to make camp in such places. Both boys drew their swords and crept forward. Alphros' dark hair caught in his eyes and he reached up to brush it away. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of red hair.

Red hair? He was confused. No one around here has red hair… except...

"Lady Fëalas?" ventured Alphros, pushing aside the thickets he hid behind and coming towards the redhead whose back was turned.

The woman turned around in surprise before smiling when she saw him. "Alphros! What are you doing out here? And who is with you?"

"This is my friend Ýridhren," he gestured to the blonde boy behind him who had just come out of hiding. "We've been out riding."

A new voice, belonging to a man, piped up as Elboron appeared followed by a group of rangers and two strange Haradrim ladies. "Where are your horses?"

"Lord Elboron!" Alphros bowed again. "They are just through here. We heard voices and feared the worst."

"So you thought to approach them alone, and on foot?" Elboron looked at them skeptically. "I cannot tell if that's stupid or brave."

Ýridhren bowed low. "Probably a bit of both, m' lord."

Elboron chuckled. "True."

Alphros looked slightly annoyed. Before long though, he found himself staring at the two Haradrim in awe. Elboron noted immediately and went to make introductions.

"Prince Alphros, these are Lady Adira and Lady Malika of Hidor." Elboron gestured to them each in turn. "Ladies Adira and Malika, this is Prince Alphros of Dol Amroth, son of Prince Elphir."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," bowed Alphros to either lady individually. "Welcome to Dor-en-Ernil, the land of the Prince!"

"Thank you, sir," Adira nodded with a bow of her own.

Malika looked up at Alphros in awe. "Thank you!"

Ýridhren shuffled his feet patiently. These were great Lords and Ladies, he was but a member of the peasant folk. Nevertheless it was his job, according to himself at least, to keep the princeling on track.

"My Lords, Ladies," Ýridhren ventured at last, "we should be getting back to Dol Amroth. The walk will take at least until dinner."

"Agreed," nodded Fëalas. "You two are welcome, in fact I encourage you, to ride ahead and alert Prince Elphir to our arrival."

Alphros nodded and he and Ýridhren bid farewell as they mounted their horses. With his soulful grey eyes, Alphros looked back once at Adira and Malika before taking off with Ýridhren. For two hours they rode, sometimes fast, sometimes no quicker than a walk. By late afternoon they arrived at the grand city by the sea. They arrived at Dol Amroth.

As he went to trot through the open gates, Alphros bid farewell to Ýridhren. His friend turned to head to his farmstead outside the city walls. Alphros, in contrast, rode quickly through the street up to where the stables his family used were located. He dropped off his steed there and entrusted it into the care of the stable hands.

The scent of wisteria and athelas floated towards him as he walked through the gardens and into the back entrance of the Hall. There he found his father, Elphir, and his mother, Orla of Rohan, talking together over dinner. Also there were Amrothos and Erchirion, Elphir's brothers.

"There you are, Alphros!" Orla scolded him quickly. "You've been gone all day."

"I ran into Lady Fëalas and Lord Elboron's company while I rode with Ýridhren. They should arrive in an hour or so," he explained to the older adults at the table.

"Ready to learn from Aderthon, are you?" smiled Amrothos. "Quite an honor that is."

"Truly," nodded Erchirion, "Say hello them for us."

Alphros nodded quickly, grey eyes shining in gladness. "Of course, uncles."

Elphir rolled his eyes at his son's eagerness. "Go pack your bags, by then your dinner will be ready."

Alphros nodded and tore up the stairs to where the bedrooms were. He was floored to be leaving Dol Amroth. For though he knew in his heart that it was a wonderful place to live, he was tired of it. He had only visited Minas Tirith a few times, and from what he'd seen, it was going to be a grand adventure.