A/N: WELCOME! This is the fourth story in my Feanoriel Chronicles. Number three, Exploring Westernesse, is till going on and will be concurrent with these publications. If you haven't read the other two (The Other Ranger, Return to the North), I would suggest catching up on Return to the North at least. But, to make this standalone, just realize that Elrohir was married to a half elf and they chose immortality and sailed west (see Exploring Westernesse for their continuing story) but left three grown children in Middle Earth. This is a story about them, the children of Aragorn, the son of Eomer, and the children of Faramir. Without further ado... the Prologue.
Year 50 FoA
The hot sun baked the sand beneath her feet. The sky was blue, as usual, and no clouds drifted in the sky. It was summer, and the rains were scarce. Fortunately for their tribe, the tributary of the great river known as Jumanah kept their lands fertile. But here, several miles from her home, here in the Great Desert, there was nothing but sand for miles.
Her skin, "swarthy" according to the Northerners visiting her town, was starting to feel the heat despite the soft cream she had applied to limit the burning. It helped to have dark skin here in Harad, as far too often the Gondorians who visited with their pale skin found themselves trapped indoors, unable to experience the beautiful vastness of her homeland.
The woman stooped down and undid her sandals. She wanted to feel the sand between her toes one last time. The Gondorians would be taking her North soon, and she would bid farewell to her father and mother and country. That made her sad, indeed. For she loved her family and the vast desert she called home.
But, as daughter of the chief, she had a duty to her town. They were the largest settlement to have allied with Gondor after the War of the Ring. Her parents remembered the War, but she did not. She had been born twenty-three years after the fall of Sauron and the allying of her village to the Reunited Kingdom. It was all she knew.
"Adira!" The voice of her father's servant came across the sands as he rode his camel towards her. "Adira, we need to get home."
"I know. Give me one moment." Adira looked out over the great sand dunes once more, out into the slowly setting sun. Just as the pinks and purples splashed across the sky like a canvas, she took out a small, glass bottle. With a swift but ritualistic movement, she filled the bottle with sand from her homeland.
"Here," said the servant, handing her a cloak of red cloth. "This will keep you warm. Hop up!"
Adira took it graciously and mounted the camel he had brought for her. Together, as it grew dark and cold, they wandered home to her village. The sound of desert wolves howling in the wind drifted across the dunes to her ears, and she longed to run wild and free with them. But she new her place and her duty.
Her father had always taught her well. "You can use a sword as well as any other man," he would say. "But your real skills come in the form of your womanhood." It was true, too. As the eldest daughter of Chief Saleem, one of the most powerful rulers in Harad, her true power lay in her ability to bear children. This King of the Reunited Kingdom had a son, after all. And he had called for suitors.
As a child, Adira had reveled in her ability to sword fight with her older brothers Amir and Hakim. Amir was the eldest of the children of Chief Saleem. At thirty-four, he boasted a tall six foot five frame and huge build. Slightly younger at thirty was Hakim, who was also slightly smaller.
Adira was next. She was at current Twenty-six, well into her prime age to marry. But her father had been in no hurry to marry her off, hoping and waiting for the day when King Elessar would call for suitors for his son and nephew. Adira also had two younger sisters. Iesha, sixteen, and Malika, ten, were just budding roses in Hidor, their settlement.
The desert rose meant a lot to Adira. It lined the walkway to their city settlement. As she and the servant Mahmud made their way closer towards the town, she spotted them. Oh, how she would miss their pink and white buds!
The sun had fully sunk below the horizon when she and Mahmud arrived at Hidor. The great city gates opened for them without protest, knowing immediately who sought entry. She handed her camel to Mahmud as they approached the Great House of the Chief. He would worry about seeing that the camel was well fed and watered.
Adira hesitated at the foot of the entryway. Stepping inside meant she would never again see the Great Desert. If she stopped now, if she ran far, far away, she could dwell with the desert wolves, run with them forever. But if she stepped across the threshold... the man and the redheaded ranger would take her North. But there was no debate here. She had a job, a duty.
So she stepped.