Disclaimer: I don't own the Stewards. I don't own Minas Tirith. I don't own Gondor. I don't own Arda. Let's just cut to the chase and say I own nothing.

Dedication: I want to dedicate this to my younger sister and cousin who served as models for Aredhel. I love you both!

3019

Minas Tirith, Gondor

They say Lord Denethor was a cold man, a man who was too high and proud for a common person's emotional entanglements. Every one of them is wrong for I knew him well when I was a child, and he was far from being a man with a heart of stone. Yet, there was a time when I held the same opinion as those who judge people they do not know, and the time my perception of him changed stands as sharp as a glowing star against the coal-black night.

2988

Minas Tirith, Gondor

"Aredhel!"

I giggled in my hiding spot as Naneth called me for a bath. I hated baths. Why take baths when you're going to get dirty again?

"Aredhel, daughter of Esgalvir, come here now! You don't want to be crusted with dirt when Aunt Morwen comes for tea!" Naneth said with a louder voice. I peeked out from behind my hiding place, Adar's big wooden bookcase. Naneth was running her fingers through her hair which meant she was annoyed. Good. Maybe she'll tell Aunt Morwen not to come for tea today. She was so annoying, Aunt Morwen. Never stopped chattering about boring things like history and bloodlines and politics. I wanted to tell her to stop talking for once, but Naneth wouldn't let me. She said it wasn't good manners.

Naneth paused and cocked her head in a certain way. Uh, oh. That wasn't good. Naneth only did that when she was going to punish me. "Aredhel, if you don't come right now, I'll ask Master Celeblas to discontinue your lute lessons for a few days," she said with a smug smile on her face.

Before I knew it, I was on my feet. "Naneth, don't do that please!" I pleaded, hardly noticing I gave myself away. "I promise I'll always take my baths and keep my bedchamber clean and not hide Anardil's sword under my bed! I'll even listen to boring Aunt Morwen and be nice to silly Gwenel! Just don't stop my lute lessons!" I felt my heart pounding with fear.

"Aredhel, that was rude to say such things about your aunt and cousin," Naneth scolded. Still, a smile spread out on her face. "Don't fuss, I won't stop your lessons, even for a few days. You love it so, and it's a shame to force people away from the things they love."

I suddenly felt a lot happier. "Thank you, Naneth!" I said, running over to her. "I promise I'll be good from now on."

Naneth gently took my hand. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Lin," she said, using my special name. "After all, you're the messiest little maid in all of Gondor. I've never seen a little girl so covered with dirt and her chamber so disorganized as yours in all my years." Naneth's face went from gentle to stern. "You still have to bathe, Lin. I'm not going to have a barbarian sitting in my lovely solar, leaving dust wherever she sits."

"Naneth!"

Naneth simply hushed me and led me over to the bathing chamber. I groaned. Naneth was right. I couldn't keep my promise to keep clean. I hated baths too much.

1 hour later. . .

"Aredhel, meleth nin, you're turning into such a lovely young lady!" A tall maiden grabbed me and squeezed, dropping a large parcel on the floor. I felt like one of the grapes being pressed at the vineyard I visited with Adar. "I'm sure there's many lads asking for your hand at this very moment!" Aunt Morwen said and winked. She released me from her tight hold.

"I hate boys, Aunt Morwen," I said with a scowl. "Boys put beetles in your hair and call you pudding-head." I fiddled with my new gown. It was a blue linen with loose sleeves and a snug, smooth bodice. Now it was crumpled from Aunt Morwen's embrace.

Aunt Morwen shook her head. "Someday, you'll think differently," she said. "My, you've seem to have grown since last week, Lin. How old are you now?" She straightened her ruffled lavender gown and rearranged her long dark hair while saying this. Aunt Morwen was rather vain.

"I'm nine years of age." I said.

"Nine! What a wonderful age!" she beamed. "Why, I remember when I was nine and your naneth was eleven. Such wonderful times we had! I recall the time we had a gamble. I said that Lord Ecthelion, may the Valar bless his fea, would order pheasant at the Midsummer's Festival, and your dear naneth said he would call for venison. Well, Midsummer's Festival rolled around, and Lord Ecthelion ordered pheasant! And do you know what the penalty was?"

"Wh-" I tried to say, but Aunt Morwen interrupted before I could finish.

"She had to go up to Esgalvir, your father, and tell him she was in love with him! They, of course, didn't know they would eventually wed and have you and Anardil at the time, but I always thought he fancied Gilmeren, your naneth, that is. I remember he turned this amusing shade of red when Gilmeren did so, Lin, and then emptied his stomach on her lovely silver slippers! Wasn't that a delightful memory, Gil?

Naneth turned crimson. "Morwen, you know I begged you never to recollect that memory again. I was humiliated, and it was only after a year that I was able to look Esgalvir in the face. I'm amazed we got married at all!" After her outburst, Naneth composed herself and changed the subject. "Morwen, what do you think about Prince Adrahil's decision to increase the number of ships in the Swan Fleet?"

Aunt Morwen tittered and picked up the package on the ground. "A good plan, but the number he's proposing is not enough. With the Corsairs raiding the coastal villages at all times of the day, we're going to need at least twice that amount to adequately protect those villages. By the Valar, it's like the the early days when Umbar was at its height, and Gondor was merciless under their sea power. Of course, that was until King-"

"Morwen, why don't we go into the solar and continue our conversation there? It's far more comfortable than standing in the foyer." Naneth said.

Aunt Morwen nodded. "You're right, Gilmeren. Who wants to stand in a foyer when there's your comfortable solar to have tea in? Lead the way!"

Naneth gracefully walked down to her solar with Aunt Morwen following, babbling all the while. I was the last, bored to tears by Aunt Morwen's chatter. At least I'll have apple tarts to nibble on during her visit.

Author's note: Is Aredhel a Mary Sue? What do you think about the title? Is this even good? Please review and tell me! And don't worry, characters that actually exist in canon will show up in chapter three!

Notes

Corsairs of Umbar: Pirates from the Havens of Umbar in Harad who raided the coasts of Gondor. By the War of the Ring, their power was greatly diminished.

OCs

Aredhel: "Noble Lady." Gondorians liked to recycle the names of famous Elves and Men so I borrowed her name from Aredhel Ar-Feiniel.

Lin: "Song." Aredhel's nickname.

Gilmeren: "Joyous Star."

Esgalvir: "Hidden Jewel."

Anardil: "Sun Lover."

Aunt Morwen: "Dark Maiden." Morwen was also the name of Morwen Eledhwen and Morwen of Lossarnarch.

Gwenel: "Maiden of the Star."

Master Celeblas: "Silver Leaf."

Sindarin

Naneth: "Mother"

Adar: "Father"

Meleth nin: "my love"

fea: "spirit"

Dedication: For my younger brothers who bother me all the time but whom I love anyway.

A/N: Argh, I'm not particularly pleased with the way this is going, mainly because the dialogue is waaaaaay too modern and a few inconsistencies, but I decided to unleash this upon you, my readers, so I can get ideas on how to fix it. So read, flame and and give concrit!

Naneth's solar was the prettiest room in all of the fourth circle. The walls were a bright, creamy white hung with tapestries of red, purple, blue, yellow, and lots of other colors, and Naneth always made sure the floor were polished until she could look down and see her face staring back at her. The maids grumbled about her orders for the floor because if they didn't do it right the first time, she would make them do it again. Still, Naneth paid them a lot more than other ladies did so they didn't complain too much. The chairs were big and cushy, and the tables were covered with little treasures. One was a blue vase that Adar brought her from Lossarnarch that she always filled with daisies. Another treasure was a seashell from Dol Amroth that you could hear the sea murmuring in. Adar told me that a wizard trapped the sound of the sea in it especially for him to bring to his lovely wife and two clever children, but I wasn't really sure he was telling the truth. Adar loved to tell stories.

Probably the best treasures in the solar were the four big windows on the east wall. Buckets and buckets of light poured through the windows, and if you looked down, you could see the gardens and the lower levels of the city. I wished I was outside in the gardens or the city, even if it was only for errands. Anything was better than listening to Aunt Morwen's endless chatter.

"By Orome's horn, people are so rude nowadays! You see, Gilmeren, I was at the milliner's for some new ribbons to trim my pink gown, and I was standing in line, waiting like any other respectable citizen would, and this woman, dressed in the most hideous shade of green, I might add, broke right in front of me just as I was about to order. Did she even beg pardon? Nienna's tears, she did not! The milliner didn't even bother to tell her to go back into line, either. Gah, merchants only think about money these days. Don't you remember the days when we could scarcely see over the top of the counter? Storekeepers were much more polite those days. I recall the old tailor in Dol Amroth, the one who always gave us a sugared plum apiece whenever Adar ordered a new tunic. By Aule's hammer, those were-"

"Morwen, how goes your work at the archives?" Naneth asked. When Naneth came from Dol Amroth to be Lady Finduilas's lady-in-waiting, Lady Finduilas managed to get Aunt Morwen a position in Minas Tirith's famous archives. Naneth didn't want to leave Aunt Morwen behind, though I'm not really sure why. If I were Naneth, I would have gotten out of Dol Amroth faster than a rabbit!

Aunt Morwen beamed. "I just remembered something, Gilmeren. I was organizing scrolls in one of the chambers for personal records, my favorite area in the archives, so many memories! Anyway, I found a rather water-stained scroll written in Quenya. My Quenya is rather poor, I'm afraid, so I showed it to the Head Archivist who told me it may have been written by King Isildur! Can you imagine, a scroll written by King Isildur?

Naneth looked genuinely interested. "Really, Morwen, King Isildur?" And Naneth and Morwen continued to talk on and on about the scroll.

I wasn't listening. History is so dull. I don't understand why Naneth and Aunt Morwen like it so much. Who wants to know why King Earnil fought this bunch of people, or how Lord Whatshisname cut a fancy gem off a crown for his sweetheart?

"Aredhel."

I jumped up and almost knocked over my cup of tea-and-milk. Naneth said I wasn't old enough for real tea. "Yes?" I asked.

Aunt Morwen smiled in a funny way. "Lin, how goes your lute lessons?"

I grinned. Finally, we were talking about something interesting! "I love lute lessons, Aunt Morwen! Master Celeblas is a very good master, and he says if I practice all the time, I could become a great lutenist!" That was my dream, to become a famous lutenist and play for kings.

Aunt Morwen said, "Will you play for me, Lin?"

I eagerly agreed and went to my chamber to get my lute. I sat down on a stool - Master Celeblas told me that standing up straight was better than sinking back into a poufy chair - and cradled it in my arms. I felt my fingers running over the strings, the beginning of the Lay of Leithian. All noises, all sights faded as the gentle music flowed into the room. My mind felt very fuzzy; it was like the way I felt when I wasn't asleep but not really awake either. I couldn't remember the lyrics; I don't have a good memory for letters, a bad thing about me that my Mean Old Tutor hates. But I didn't care. When I played, I forgot everything. Annoying Aunt Morwen, stupid Gwenel, bossy Anardil, and my Mean Old Tutor seemed to disappear in the wind, never to come back again.

I finished what I knew which wasn't a lot, but that was fine. Master Celeblas said no one could remember all of the Lay of Leithian except for maybe the Elves. Naneth was listening carefully with her fingers resting on her teacup. Aunt Morwen's eyes were closed, and her lips weren't moving as they usually do. That was a relief.

Aunt Morwen opened her eyes. "That was lovely, Aredhel! You have a real gift, but why do you use that ancient instrument?"

I felt my cheeks get really hot. Even though Naneth was a member of the court, and Adar was a Guard of the Citadel, we weren't rich. Lutes cost a lot of money to maintain mainly because the strings snap a lot and need to be replaced so we got an old, cheaper one. It wasn't a bad lute. It had four courses - seven strings in all. The ribs in the back and the egg-shaped front were very worn and silky because of the many, many people who owned my lute before me, but it hadn't rotted yet. My lute was very difficult to tune - Master Celeblas joked that lutenists spend half of the time tuning their lutes and the other half playing out of tune -, but then, all lutes were hard to tune. All in all, it wasn't a bad lute for a nine-year old.

"It's not that old, Aunt Morwen, " I retorted. "At least it's younger than you are."

"Aredhel!" Naneth scolded. I definitely was going to be punished for this. She'll probably won't let me play outside for a week.

Aunt Morwen's eyes widened a bit at my rudeness but then turned merry again. "I don't mind too much, Gilmeren. I believe we were worse than little Lin was a few minutes ago. Don't you remember the time you walked up to Prince Adrahil himself and told him that his eyebrows looked like hairy caterpillers?" Naneth blushed. I stared. Naneth? "Anyway, I have to admire the child's spirit."

Naneth, still pink, was looking at the hem of her black dress, but straightened up again. "Spirit is a good thing, Morwen, but you know perfectly well that spirit can land you in all manners of trouble if you don't learn to temper it. Aredhel needs to learn discipline."

I wiggled in my chair. I didn't understand why discipline was so important. Master Celeblas would praise the passion of my playing but would add three pages of theory because I "lacked any control of beat and volume." Naneth would give me a sugared plum if I tried to clean my chamber but kept me inside for a day if there was one hair ribbon on the floor. Adar would smile if I didn't tease his brother's daughter, Gwenel, but would take away my doll, Luinwen, if I hid Anardil's bow in my chest. My Mean Old Tutor would grudgingly paste a shiny star on my chart for a finished work, but also would put a black mark for missing half of the questions. Wasn't doing the work enough? Why were all those stupid details so important? Why work so hard? Why couldn't I just run free like the Rohirrim with their horses and let everything take care of itself?

Aunt Morwen inclined her head. "True, Gilmeren, but you also should never ruin a strong fea. Girls like her are needed these days. It's said that it was a lack of strong will lead to Lady Finduilas passing beyond this world this winter."

It suddenly got very quiet. Not a nice quiet either. Naneth had been the eldest of Lady Finduilas's ladies-in-waiting, and had loved her dearly, almost like a sister. Not that I had a little sister; I just had pushy Anardil. But anyway, Naneth had greatly admired Lady Finduilas. She said Lady Finduilas had been the loveliest woman in Gondor, and the light of Minas Tirith in these awful times. I had liked Lady Finduilas, too. Whenever she came to oue house for tea, she had always been nice to me and had given me presents. I was actually wearing the pretty rosebud charm she gave me on my ninth birthday for Aunt Morwen's visit. Why, every single person in Minas Tirith was required to wear at least one item of black for a year because she was the Steward's wife, but according to Adar, this was the first time no one was complaining. She had been loved that much. Naneth was always dressed entirely in black with high necks and long sleeves and filmy veils draped about her. I didn't like that; she looked really white like those ghosts in the tales Anardil scared me with. Adar had a black armband with his Guard of the Citadel chainmail. Master Celeblas and my Mean Old Tutor wore black cloaks over their bard's and scholar's garb. All the noblemen wore black brocade and velvet instead of their normal gay, garish colors. My sunny blue linen was trimmed with black silk. Even flamboyant Aunt Morwen wore a black lace shawl over her fancy lilac gown.

Naneth broke the silence. "By Manwe's seat, it wasn't that! Lady Finduilas did have fragile health; the healers agreed that her heart was weak and would give out eventually, especially with the Shadow so close to Minas Tirith, but her fea had more fire than Feanor's himself!" Naneth looked furious. Eru, Aunt Morwen got told off for once!

Aunt Morwen waved her hands in defeat. "Gil, you know that I too loved and respected Lady Finduilas. I was merely repeating what some have said around the archives. You know that lulls after long hours of work lead to idle talk. At any rate, I would say it was that husband of hers, Lord Denethor, that lead to her untimely death. Such a grim man he is! I wouldn't expect him to be very loving towards her at all. And those boys of hers, not having a mother and having such a chilly, distant father. He's only gotten worse. I pity anyone related to that man!"

Did Lord Denethor cause the death of Lady Finduilas? I wouldn't be very surprised. He scared me a lot with his pointy, unsmiling face and tall, tall frame. It was his eyes that scared me the most. Once, idiotic Gwenel dared me to tap Lord Denethor's arm during a feast. Since I couldn't refuse a dare because if you do, one of the Dead took you away, I crept up to him and did it. He turned around and looked at me. I had never been so scared in my life! They were a deep, deep gray and shone like Cook's sharp butcher knives or Adar's gleaming sword. It felt like he was cutting right through me when he gazed at me, and I ran away as quick as I could. I felt like my heart had been plucked from my body and poked at like the rat that Anardil killed and cut up to look at its innards. I never went up to Lord Denethor again.

Surprisingly, Naneth shook her head. "You judge wrongly, Morwen. He's a good man, if grave. He cherished his wife as he does now his children. There are many ways of showing grief and sinking deeper into himself is the Steward's way of doing so, I believe."

Aunt Morwen snorted. "Vaire's loom, I don't believe it for one minute! I, like everyone else in this city, believes he married Lady Finduilas for political gain. The House of Swan is, after all, the most powerful noble house in Gondor!" She paused for a few seconds to fill her lungs.

Naneth took advantage of this to have her say. "Morwen, you must admit that despite his shortcomings, he is an excellent Steward and puts more value in his people than himself."

I think Naneth was simply doing what she had to do. Otherwise, she might lose her position, and we'd have to live in the streets and never take baths. Actually, that doesn't sound too horrible if you thought about it.

Aunt Morwen reluctantly gave in. "I suppose you're right. He's far better than quite a few of those cabbage-heads who have sitten in the Steward's seat. And I don't really hate him. No one in the city does, actually. He just isn't that. . .approachable, I suppose. He lacks, er-"

"I believe the word is charisma, Morwen."

"Yes, that's right! Charisma! That's the sort of thing Captain Thorongil had. Don't you remember? He was so grave, a bit like the Lord Denethor, really, but there was something about him that made him feel like a man you could look up to, to be friends with. 'Twas a pity he disappeared after that spectacular victory aginst the Corsairs. He would have been a great leader of Gondor, maybe second only to Lord Denethor himself!"

Naneth nodded. "You are right in that respect, sister dear. He does unfortuantely lack that way of having men follow you, even to death, but he is still a good man at heart."

I couldn't keep my thoughts to myself any longer. "Lord Denethor scares me!" I blurted. "How can you say he's a good man when he always looks so mean all the time, Naneth?" I was confused why Naneth thought that such a scary man could be good.

Aunt Morwen mouth turned up a bit. "Ah, someone agrees with me, though not quite to that degree. Even I don't think he's totally heartless, but whatever heart he has, it can't fill an eggcup!"

Scary. I actually agreed with Aunt Morwen on something. Was I going daft?

"Ulmo's waves! I nearly forgot!" Aunt Morwen jumped out of her seat and walked over to the large parcel lying near the tapestry. I looked at Naneth. She looked as confused as I was which isn't normal. Naneth is a lot smarter than I am. Aunt Morwen triumphantly brought the parcel and plopped it in my lap. It was lighter than it looked.

"Open it, Lin, meleth nin," coaxed Aunt Morwen, looking ridiculously puffed up. A little like a hen, actually.

I carefully tore apart the brown paper, revealing a large, leathery box. It was a lute case. I was confused. I already had a good lute case, though this one was very lovely. The smooth leather had lovely patterns of flowers and leaves tooled into it and shiny brass trimmings. Naneth glanced at me and frowned. Oops. I forgot to thank Aunt Morwen. "Thank you, Aunt Morwen, for the new case. It's a lot prettier than my old one."

Aunt Morwen vigorously shook her head. "That's not all of it, meleth. Do you think I would have just given you a silly old case? The real gift is inside."

My fingers landed on the brass clasps, and with a click, it snapped open. I gasped. It was a lute.

It was the most beautiful lute I've ever seen in my life. There were two holes - Master Celeblas called them roses - instead of one, and it was covered by a grille carved with stars and vines and lots of other pretty things. The pegs were black and shiny, and the back and front were a light brown with darker brown stripes. The strings weren't frayed; they looked very new. The nut and bridge weren't bone like the ones on my old lute; it was a a white substance that gleamed softly. I think it was called ivory because Gwenel had a necklace with a charm like that substance. Gwenel gloated for a long time until I threw it in the mud and got stuck mending sheets for a week, but anyway, it was a beautiful lute.

"Oh, Aunt Morwen!" I cried. "It's beautiful!" I felt really bad for being so mean to Aunt Morwen. I mean, I thought she was boring and annoying, but she still gave me the best lute lute I've ever touched.

Naneth cleared her throat. "Aredhel, dear, what do you say to Aunt Morwen?"

"Thank you, Aunt Morwen! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I ran up and hugged her as hard as I could. Yes, I knew it was Aunt Morwen, but one little hug wouldn't kill me.

Aunt Morwen waved her hand. "Varda's lights, you are very welcome, Lin."

"Where did you get that lute, Morwen?" Naneth asked. "It looks rather expensive."

If Aunt Morwen had looked puffed up a few minutes ago, she looked positively blown up right now. For once, I didn't mind. "Well, Gilmeren, a few days ago while I was at the archives, one of the older archivists, Brethiliaur, approached me. His wife had recently died, and she had apparently played the lute beautifully." Aunt Morwen dabbed at her eyes. "At any rate, she had requested that her beloved lute - it had been made by a master luthier a few years ago for a birthday present - be given to someone who would love it and use it well. Brethiliaur had seen Aredhel play in the gardens a few times with Master Celeblas and had thought she was the one who deserved his wife's lute. He asked a few people and found out I was Aredhel's aunt. He came up to me to ask if I would give it to her. I agreed, of course, because I believed Lin would cherish it for all her years."

We all sat in silence. I patted my lute and wondered why a fellow lutenist would trust her instrument to a stranger. Maybe she decided that it was better for it to be used than for it to sit in a chest, gathering dust. Who knew? At least she'll be glad to know that her precious lute would be taken care of forever. I promised in my heart that for whatever her name was, wherever dead people go, I'll love her lute forever.

Author's Note: I promise that some of the Steward's family will show up in the next chapter! I promise! And yes, I know that this is starting to be a long memory, but I needed to give some background to Aredhel to give her some reason for her actions. Anyway, please review!

Notes:

Lossarnarch: An ancient fiefdom of Gondor.

Dol Amroth: Principal city of the Gondorian region of Belfalas. The Princes of Dol Amroth lives there. Their house is said to descended from Mithrellas, a companion of Nimrodel.

Guard of the Citadel: Honored guards charged with protecting the Citadel, the highest level of the Minas Tirith, especially the White Tree.

Lutenist: A lute player.

luthier: A maker of lutes.

Captain Thorongil: The alias of Aragorn when he served King Thengel of Rohan and Steward Ecthelion II of Gondor.

Brethiliaur: "Old Silver Birch" meleth nin: "my love" or "my beloved."

Mean Old Tutor: It speaks for itself.

The Dead: They are, well, dead. In this case, it's a tale meant to scare little children.