Elarinya's pen danced across the paper in a smooth rhythm as the city came to life beneath her. The bells rang out, signaling the first hour of the day. Merchants were already passing to and fro on the streets, shouting out today's prices. The townspeople began to emerge from their homes for another day's work.
Elarinya finished her drawing and hurriedly began to pack away her things. It wouldn't do to be late for breakfast again. Her mother had some notion that a lady should practice being "timely" and "punctual", although frankly Elarinya didn't see the point. Queen Arwen would only smile and tell her that if you practiced something often enough, it becomes an unconscious habit. In any event, Elarinya had to do as her mother said.

As she raced along the streets of Minas Tirith, she reflected on how dull and pointless her life seemed. "Eldarion is oldest and will be king after Father, and he gets half the realm's attention. Vanessë gets the other half of the realm's attention, being the youngest and a perfect copy of Mother, and everyone adores her. But I'm in the middle. What do I have? What place is there for me?"
That wasn't entirely fair of her to say, since she did have a talent for drawing and painting, and embroidery (as a lady should), but there was nothing particularly special about her. Except for her 'unladylike' behavior, of course.

"You are precisely fashionably late," her mother said as Elarinya entered Menethrond, the hall of feasts, trying to hurry without trying to hurry. "Care to explain where you have been to be in such a state at this hour of the morning?"
Elarinya flushed as she looked down at her dress, which she had somehow managed to tear on the way up. "I was drawing," she said. "I can't get a better view of the city than from above-"
"Yes, well, be that as it may," interjected her father. "What have we told you about leaving the city unattended?"
"The city wasn't unattended," retorted Elarinya. "There were plenty of people about, even at this hour of the morning." She directed these last words towards her mother.
Elessar laughed uproariously while Arwen tried to appear stern, although she couldn't keep from smiling. "Sit down," she said "Your father and I have something to tell you three..."

"Yes," said Elessar, suppressing further mirth. "Last night I received a letter from King Éomer. His son Elfwine is to be married on the first of June, which means-"
"We're going to Rohan?" squealed Vanessë excitedly. She was only eight and, as they all did, loved listening to stories of their father's adventures.
"We're going to Rohan," confirmed Elessar with a smile. He had doted on Vanessë from the moment she was born. It had even been his idea to name her Vanessë, which meant 'beauty' in the old Elvish tongue. Elarinya strongly suspected that Vanessë was her father's favorite, although she had no way to say for certain.

 

"We will be leaving in roughly a month in order to arrive in time for the wedding," continued Elessar. "The girls will have to get new dresses, and Eldarion-"
"I'm not wearing that dress tunic again," Eldarion broke in forcefully. "It looks like a bloody corset."
"You don't have to wear the corset again- I mean tunic," said Elessar wearily, while Elarinya and Vanessë giggled and Arwen rolled her eyes. "Now, I have to meet with Faramir to discuss certain matters of politics. Arwen, you and the girls should get fitted for dresses, and Eldarion, go practice your swordplay. I expect you to be at least competent with your off hand by the time I join you."
And so they parted until noon.

"It's too long," Elarinya complained, twirling the skirt of her new dress back and forth. "I'll trip over it."
"You won't trip over it, and besides it's not finished yet," said her mother. "Now hold still. Your hair isn't going to style itself."
Elarinya sighed as her mother ran a brush through her brilliant golden strands. Their handmaidens Elena and Melinda were hard at work fitting the dresses they would be wearing to Prince Elfwine's wedding. They had already finished Vanessë's, and she was now merrily dancing around the room, twirling round and round in her new outfit.
"Why do we have to dress up?" asked Elarinya sullenly. "We're not the ones getting married."
"You know full well we are visiting dignitaries, and we have to look presentable when appearing in public," her mother replied, ignoring her daughter's eye roll in response. "I'll tell you what, though," she continued. "When you get married, you can wear whatever you want."
"Really?" Elarinya exclaimed in surprise, turning round to look at her mother. "What about being ladylike and all that?"
"It's your wedding," responded Arwen with a smile. "Whatever you say goes. Besides, if you marry the right person, you could dress in rags and he would still think you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen."
Elarinya rolled her eyes while suppressing a smile. Her parents had one of the happiest marriages she had ever seen. She supposed she and her siblings were the object of envy by many children, although they could be embarrassingly affectionate at times.

"So what are these matters of politics Ada had to discuss with Prince Faramir?" Vanessë asked her mother as they and Elarinya headed for their midday meal.
Arwen opened her mouth to reply when they turned the corner and saw Elessar and Eldarion coming towards them, looking fatigued from their sparring. "How did it go?” she asked them.
"Father finally let me use Andúril," reported Eldarion excitedly. "He wiped the floor with me, but at least I got to use his sword."
"Because you're not used to the weight," Elessar said, smiling. "You just need more practice, that's all."
"What were you and Prince Faramir talking about, Ada?" Vanessë repeated her question, excitedly hopping from foot to foot.
"Just some minor bookkeeping details," her father replied easily, picking Vanessë up and swinging her around. "Come on," he said, perching Vanessë on his shoulders and taking Arwen's hand. "Our luncheon awaits us."

Elarinya trailed behind her parents, falling back to walk beside Eldarion. Was it her imagination, or had her father not been entirely truthful? "What was that meeting with Faramir really about?" she asked her brother in a whisper.
Eldarion looked at her in surprise. "How could you tell?" he responded, too startled to remember his father's instruction to keep silent. Too late he realized his mistake and silently cursed himself.
"Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes," she replied. "Tell me what's really going on."
Eldarion hesitated, looking ahead at their parents, who were now swinging Vanessë back and forth between them and seemed oblivious to their other children's conspiracy.
"Father told me that Faramir reported strange happenings at his southern border. Animals going missing, several near-fatal accidents, and a nameless foreboding. Prince Imrahil has also reported that small unmarked ships with black sails have begun harassing his coastlands. He suspects the Haradrim are on the move again."

"But I thought Father took care of them after the war, long before we were born," said Elarinya, surprised. "And how is that related to what's happening in Ithilien?"
"Apparently Father thinks they are related," replied Eldarion, "and he told Faramir to keep a close watch on the southern border of Ithilien, and to pay special attention to South Gondor. That region was ever in debate even after Father won it back from the Haradrim when this Age began. Something is coming, Elarinya. I don't know what it is, but I can feel it."

 

Elarinya shivered at her brother's news. "You don't think we'll go to war, do you?" she asked him.
"War?" Eldarion replied. "No, Gondor hasn't been in outright war for decades. Still, trouble is brewing, and we must keep ever watchful."
"What are you two doing back there?" their mother called out suddenly. "Were you planning on joining us for lunch?"
Eldarion flashed a guilty look at Elarinya and took his place at his father's right hand. Elarinya followed and sat beside her mother, who was at her father's other side. As she ate, she contemplated her brother's news. Might this interfere with the upcoming wedding plans? Would her father ride away to war? And if so, would Eldarion go with him? He had never seen a real battle before, but he was six-and-ten, a man full grown. He might not be gainsaid.

Later that night Elarinya was alone in her chamber, idly sketching a vase of flowers, when there was a knock at the door. "Enter," she said, still focused on the vase.
The door opened and closed. Elarinya turned to see her father standing there. "May I speak with you a moment?" he asked hesitatingly.
"Of course," Elarinya said, surprised. She gestured to an adjacent empty chair. "What is it, Father?"
Elessar sat down and leaned forward, looking as though he had something important to say. "Eldarion confessed to me that he told you what I told him about the Haradrim. He apparently felt guilty about breaking his word to keep silent."
Elarinya rolled her eyes. "You really impressed all these ideas of honor and integrity on him too hard," she said.
"Not hard enough, it seems," replied Elessar with a smile. "And I did my best to impress them on all three of you. Which is why I need you to be strong."
Elarinya shivered at the ominous tone of her father's words. "I don't understand," she said.

"I wouldn't expect you to." Elessar sighed and reached over with one hand to lightly stroke her hair. "But you are almost three-and-ten. It is past time you became a formal part of my counsels, especially considering your possession of my courage and your mother's dignity and bearing. You come of a twofold noble lineage, being a daughter of the race of Elendil, and you are also descended from Elrond, Tuor, Eärendil, Beren and Lúthien, and many Elf-heroes of old." He leaned forward and took her face in his hands. "You are all of these things, but you are also my daughter. I have no wish to lead you into harm, but I also know that you will not remain a child forever. Your mother agrees with me, though reluctantly, and she has given you leave to do this, if you are willing."
"Do what?" Elarinya asked, her voice trembling, though she knew not why. "What is it you are speaking of, Father?"

"I am speaking of a plot by Suladân, the chief ruler of the Haradrim, to do great harm to this house. I strongly suspect an assassination attempt of some kind, but I hear only whispers-"
"Assassination?" cried Elarinya, recoiling in fear. "Which of us is he-?"
"I don't know, which is why I need more information," Elessar continued. "That is where you come in. My spies were sending me very little information before I lost contact with them. I fear to send any more lest I lose them as well, therefore I must go myself. But I need a plausible reason to go that will not arouse suspicion on the part of the Haradrim. Suladân has a son of an age with you. He has already suggested a marriage pact 'to join our houses.' If I were to accept his proposal-"

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Elarinya leapt from her chair and stalked away, then whirled to face him. "Mother gave leave for you to do this? How could-"
"Let me finish!" Elessar held up his hands as if to ward off a blow. "They are only harrying my borderlands as a ruse, an excuse to suggest this marriage pact. Suladân claims this move would bring 'peace' to our peoples, but I know what he wants. He means to conquer Gondor in Sauron's name." His face darkened. "I have been among them. I know how they treat their women- and what they will do to you if Suladân gets his way. Your brother and I would be slain, your mother and sister enslaved. And you..." He clenched his fists. "They must be stopped. They cannot be allowed to do that to you. They will not."

Elarinya sat across from her father in stunned silence. She wanted to ask what he meant by that, but she was afraid of the answer. " What are we going to do?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"Here is the plan," said Elessar. "I will send back Suladân's messenger with the reply that I will consider his proposal. We will visit his city in early July, shortly after our return from Elfwine's wedding. While we pretend to consider joining our houses, you and I will attempt to uncover the details of his plot. You shall never be out of my sight or alone with either Suladân or his son; that was the condition under which your mother agreed to this scheme. With any luck, we will have foiled their plot."
"But what if-?" Elarinya began, though she knew not what she feared. A nameless foreboding was hovering over her, portending doom.
Elessar smiled reassuringly and took her hands in his. "Don't worry, Ellie," he said, using her childhood nickname. "You will not come to harm. I guarantee it."
"I don't fear for myself," whispered Elarinya. "I fear-" but she broke off again, unable to put into words her nameless dread.
Elessar leaned forward and kissed her brow. "Good night, little one," he said, and left.

The crowd erupted in cheers. Bells rang out and flowers were thrown in the air. Everyone was overjoyed to see Prince Elfwine and Lady Fréawyn married at last.
Everyone, that is, except Elarinya. The time was coming soon, she knew, when she and her father would put their plan into action. The borderlands had been surprisingly quiet since Elessar had sent his reply to Suladân's request. There were still minor troubles, but nothing serious. Everything would be fine, Suladán promised, if only their houses were joined in marriage.
Elarinya fought back a burst of bitter laughter that threatened to break free. She had been further educated in the customs of the Haradrim in the six weeks since the initiation of their scheme. She knew what they were capable of. And she knew they must not get away with it.

Suddenly the crowd began to murmur. Elarinya heard the clip-clopping of hooves and turned to see the crowd parting for a contingent of a dozen men in strange armor. One of the men bore a banner of black and scarlet, another a white flag as a token of peace.
They stopped a short distance from Elessar and his company as two of the men began to dismount. The first was tall, with broad shoulders and dark, piercing eyes. The second was younger, with softer features and wide brown eyes. He looked no older than Elarinya, and with a sudden flash of fear she realized who these men must be, and what they had come for.

"Good morrow, Elessar," said Suladân cheerfully. "I hope you do not mind my arriving thus unexpectedly, but other matters came up and I had to make other arrangements. I sent a messenger to forewarn you, but evidently he has lost his way."
"Evidently he has," replied Elessar tersely. "But what is your purpose here?"
"Why, don't you remember?" asked Suladân, startled. "I came to honor our agreement."
"The agreement was that my daughter and I would come to you, not the other way around," retorted Elessar. "And how were you permitted to pass through my and Éomer's lands?"
"I came bearing a token of peace," Suladân said, seemingly wounded. "Can we not discuss this in a more-" he hesitated, looking around. "-secure atmosphere?"
The crowd was dead silent. Elessar and Arwen looked at one another. They appeared to be having a silent argument. Elarinya could feel the tension in the air. The air seemed to crackle around them like a thunderstorm. The rest of the crowd was dead silent, the wind sounding like the roar of the ocean that she had never heard nor seen, save in dreams. Vanessë clung to her brother's arm in fear.

At last Elessar looked away and met Suladân's eyes. "This is not my kingdom, therefore this is not under my authority. King Éomer shall decide when and where we meet."
Éomer glanced sideways at Elessar before speaking. "This is neither the time nor the place for such a discussion. You have shown up uninvited to my son's wedding for a purpose having nothing to do with him. Therefore, I will say this: You shall postpone your meeting until the morrow. Tonight you shall both be guests in my halls, and shall share in my joy on this most glorious day."
The crowd began to disperse as the guests headed indoors for the wedding feast. Disaster had been seemingly averted, but Elarinya could still feel the tension in the air. She sensed strongly the coming of doom.

Inside Meduseld the atmosphere was a merry one. Musicians played a lively tune as Gléowine the minstrel sang a song of love and joy. The bride and groom spun slowly around in the center of the room, seemingly unaware that anyone else was present. Eldarion was striking up a conversation with a pair of lovely Rohirric maids, one hand nervously running through his hair, the other twitching feebly at his side, as if he was not sure what to do with it. Elessar was dancing with Vanessë, spinning her round and round, occasionally lifting her into the air. Suladân and his son Saladin moved through the crowd, looking everywhere for some sign of Elarinya.
Elarinya was not there. During the confusion of everyone heading into the feasting hall, Arwen had pulled her aside and led her to their private chambers, as she and Elessar had decided. They wanted to delay as long as possible their meeting with Suladân until they could formulate a new plan to combat his unexpected arrival.

Elarinya and Arwen were sitting in the airy, spacious antechamber of their personal quarters. Elarinya was at her easel, painting a portrait of her mother, while they discussed the new developments.
"I don't understand this," said her mother. "What does he stand to gain by showing up unannounced like this? What could be in it for him?"
"Maybe he's trying to catch us off our guard," suggested Elarinya as she made a few more brushstrokes. "Make it more likely that we'll accept."
Arwen frowned. "I don't like it," she said. "This entire situation reeks of conspiracy. I have half a mind to call off the whole thing."
Elarinya couldn't keep herself from laughing at her mother's commanding tone, yet she knew her mother was willing to move mountains for the sake of her children. She was not entirely certain if that was not mere hyperbole.
"Is this a laughing matter to you?" Arwen asked her, scowling.
"No," Elarinya said, quickly growing serious. "But I love you, Mother."
Arwen's scowl turned into a warm smile. "And I Iove you, my daughter, which is why my heart is against this. But I-"
Suddenly there were three sharp raps on the door.

Arwen and Elarinya both froze in place, their eyes drawn automatically to the closed door.
The door banged again. They looked at each other in fright, but before either of them could act, a voice called out:
"Relax! It's only me!"
Arwen breathed a sigh of relief. She ran to the door and opened it. "Lothiriel!" she exclaimed. "Come in! I'm so sorry, I thought you were-"
"-That I was the Southron, I know. Your husband has informed Éomer and I of the current state of affairs." The Queen of Rohan seated herself at the table, adjacent to Elarinya and Arwen. "What I have come to tell you is that you cannot delay much longer. Elessar and Suladân were speaking together at one of the feast tables when I left. I think Suladân is trying to push him into making a decision."
"And what about Vanessë and Eldarion?" Arwen gripped the arms of her chair so that her knuckles turned white. "What about my other children?"

"Suladân suggested that Saladin his son become better acquainted with Elarinya's siblings," Lothiriel stated, frowning. "They are in the main courtyard being kept under a watchful eye. You needn't worry," she added in response to Arwen's sharp intake of breath. "Vanessë will be in no danger while Eldarion (and Éomer's guards) is there to protect her. The son does not seem dangerous to me, in any event. It is the father whom I think we must fear."
"But what exactly is his plan?" cried Elarinya in exasperation. "What does he want?"
Just then there was another knock on the door. "Oh sweet Illúvatar, what now?" exclaimed Arwen.
The door opened to reveal Éomer followed closely by Elessar and Eldarion. "We have discovered much that we need to tell you," Éomer said, sounding harried.
"Where is Vanessë?" Arwen asked in a voice that could have cut through mithril.
"Safe in bed," replied Elessar. "She knows little of these important matters, which is for the best, I think. The last thing I desire is for both my daughters to be caught up in this."
"The Southron's brat is an annoying little weasel," interjected Eldarion forcefully. "But he knows nothing. He appears to genuinely believe what his father is saying."
"If that is so, then we only have Suladân to fear, as I thought," said Lothiriel. "But we cannot rule out any other possibilities yet. We must keep ever watchful."

"In my discussion with Suladân," said Elessar with the air of someone who was carrying a heavy load, "I discovered his power over the Haradrim is weakening. Many of them are turning to other chieftains. He is only their ruler in name. He hopes to solidify his rule through an advantageous marriage, but what had not been clarified for me until tonight is that Saladin is his only child and therefore his heir. He thinks it would serve to intimidate his wayward people to have a Westron queen."
"But isn't that sort of counterintuitive?" asked Elarinya. "Wouldn't that alienate them even further?"
"It would," said Elessar. "Women have no authority in their culture anyway. Suladân of course knows this, and he thinks somehow to decieve me. To what end, I know not. But he is not aware that I once traveled in his lands, long ago in his great-grandfather's time. I know their customs and their ways. He intends to gather both Gondor and Harad under his sway and terrorize what is left of the West. This is the only thing I can say for certain. We stand upon the brink of almost certain disaster."

"Well, we haven't gotten any further than we were six weeks ago," said Eldarion irritably, "and we still don't know what he's up to."
"I had a thought," said Éomer. "What if they're just distracting us and he has an army waiting somewhere?"
"That was my thought as well," said Elessar. "But I have seen no signs of any large, or even small, force."
"A military attack would be too obvious," argued Arwen. "He would be expecting us to expect one."
"Then what are we to do?" asked Lothiriel.
They all sat in silence, pondering their situation. None of them seemed to have any idea of where to go from here.
Elarinya was furrowing her brow, puzzled. Something didn't seem quite right.
"If Eldarion were to die without issue," she asked suddenly, "who would inherit the throne?"
They all looked at her, startled. It was a rhetorical question, of course. Everyone knew what the answer was.

"You think he intends to marry you to his son, then eliminate the rest of us so you would inherit both kingdoms and, by marriage, he would as well?" Eldarion asked her.
"It's the only thing that makes sense," said Elarinya. "But that still doesn't explain what he's doing here, in Rohan."
Just then a servant burst in, accompanied by the smell of charred linen. "Fire!" he yelled. "Fire in the kitchens! It's spreading to the upper halls!"
Éomer rose quickly. "I must go," he said. "Lothíriel, come with me."
"We should help," said Arwen, rising from her chair.
"Help would be appreciated," said Éomer. "You and Aragorn and Eldarion should come as well."
"Why can't I come?" argued Elarinya to the Rohirric king, but it was her father who answered.
"Of all of us you are in the greatest peril," he said. "Which is why you will not remain alone." Eldarion, you will stay here and guard your sisters, for I shall send Vanessë here from across the hall. I will also set a guard outside the door for extra security."

Vanessë was curled up on the loveseat, sleeping peacefully. Eldarion sat with his sword on his lap, fingering the hilt. His eyes kept darting towards the door. The room was silent but for the sound of their breathing.
Elarinya idly sketched her brother's profile. not knowing why she felt uneasy. Something else was troubling her. But what?
"Eldarion, she asked, breaking the silence, "when Suladân arrived earlier today, what did he say about the messenger?"
Eldarion looked up from watching Vanessë, startled. "He said he sent a messenger, but that he must have lost his way."
"But how would he know that?" argued Elarinya, suddenly fearful. "He'd only just arrived. Wouldn't it make sense for him to just assume we were forewarned?"
Eldarion frowned, sitting up straight. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying maybe he didn't send a messenger," said Elarinya. "I think something has happened to stir him"
"His hold on the Easterlings is weakening," said Eldarion. "That's what Father told us he said."
"That's what he was willing to reveal," agreed Elarinya. "But something tells me that's not the whole story."

Eldarion opened his mouth to reply when suddenly there was a great banging on the door, which burst open to reveal Suladân in full battle armor, followed by Saladin, who quickly shut the door behind him and dragged a nearby table in front of it. Suladân unsheathed an enormous black-bladed scimitar and smiled menacingly.
"I'm delighted to meet you all at last," he said.
Eldarion was already on his feet with his sword in his hands. "What is the meaning of this?" he snarled. "Why have you come here, armed as if for war?"
"Why, don't you know?" Suladân asked, smiling. "Your dear sister is promised to my-"
But suddenly he bent over, racked with furious coughing. Saladin rushed over to him, concerned.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," he said, recovered. He brushed his son aside and lowered his blade, pointing it at Eldarion and Elarinya once more, when suddenly- his attention was diverted.
"Where is the little one?" he roared, pointing at the empty couch. "Where has she gone?"

Elarinya and Eldarion looked at the couch in shock. Vanessë, asleep on the couch a moment ago, had completely disappeared. She was nowhere to be found.
She must have escaped somehow, Elarinya thought desperately, although she couldn't think how. All she could think of was that she must find a way to buy her time, to distract the Southron chieftain until help came.
"I thought you were innocent," she said to Saladin accusingly. "How can you condone what your father is doing?"
"Because he's my father," Saladin pleaded earnestly. "This will be better for all of us."
"How can you possibly think this would be a good thing?" hissed Eldarion. "Don't you know what life is like for women in your land? You have no right to even so much as look at my sister!"
"Such a fiery spirit," said Suladân, smiling. "You remind me very much of-"
But he suddenly was seized with another fit of coughing, and this time Eldarion was prepared. He rushed at Suladân with his sword raised and his mouth open in a furious roar.

But Suladân recovered and parried Eldarion's blow. Their swords met again and again, ringing out with the sound of steel against steel.
"You set the fire downstairs, didn't you?" snarled Eldarion.
"Not quite," replied Suladân, dodging Eldarion's swipe. "That was my son. What else is your blood for, but to do your will?"
"Why are you doing this?" hissed Elarinya from behind the couch. "What do you have to gain?"
"Why, the kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor, and all of the East and West, of course," Suladân responded easily. "Haven't you figured that out yet?"
"But why here? Why now?" asked Eldarion as his blade collided once more with Suladân's. "Why not wait for Father and Ellie to come to you?"
"That was the original plan, as you know," agreed Suladân. "But certain- complications-"
A third coughing fit seized him then, and this time Eldarion's aim was true. His blade came down like the all-powerful hand of Eru Illúvatar as Suladân's sword hand was severed from his wrist.

Meanwhile Vanessë was racing along the roof of the hall at full speed in the direction of where she supposed her parents to be. When Suladân and Saladin had come barging in, she had been startled awake and fallen off the couch. Hidden by its bulk, she had been able to crawl away to the adjacent bedchamber unnoticed while her brother sparred with the Easterling.
Her foot landed on a loose shingle and she stumbled momentarily, trying to regain her balance. It was a good thing there had been a window in that chamber. Otherwise, she would've been trapped in there just like her brother and sister.
She jumped over a narrow gap and landed on the roof of Meduseld. As she landed, she caught the smell of burning. The fire had reached the main hall.
With a yelp of fear she darted to the edge of the roof and lowered herself with her hands until she was dangling above the entrance to the hall. She looked down and gasped in horror, for the distance looked too great for her to jump. She screamed for help, in terror of falling onto the hard cobblestones below.

Suladân screamed in agony, falling to his knees and gripping his wrist with his remaining hand. Saladin cried out in horror and ran to him, pulling off his shirt and wrapping it around the bloody stump. "You've hurt him!" he cried. "How could you do that?"
"He got what was coming to him," replied Eldarion shakily. "No harm will come to you," he added kindly, "not if you come quietly."
Suladân made a series of halting, gasping noises that might have passed for laughter. "Think yourself a king, do you, boy? You might very well be. Fire is a difficult beast to tame, especially for a wanderer from the North."
"LIAR!" Elarinya screamed. She rushed forward and began raining blows upon his head. "You can't kill him! You can't!"
"Ellie, stop!" Her brother pulled her off the Easterling, his hand trembling. "He can't harm us now." Belatedly a thought occurred to him. "What happened to the guard Father set outside this chamber?"

But Suladân had collapsed from loss of blood and was not responding.
"Father killed him," replied Saladin, his voice shaking as he attempted to support his father's body. "He was dying. That's why he did it."
"Dying? What do you mean?" Eldarion asked sharply. "I won't tolerate any lies from you, pipsqueak."
"It's not a lie!" yelled Saladin. "He's been dying for a while. But lately he's gotten worse. That's why he needs to marry me to your sister, so our family can rule all the kingdoms of Middle-earth."
"But why? To what end?" asked Elarinya tearfully. "Why do you desire to conquer our lands?"
"For Harad! For Sauron!" the boy hissed at her. "Your father defeated him! And ever since then we've been trying to get our own back!"

"Help! Ada, Naneth, help!" Vanessë screamed, her fingers slipping off the edge of the roof. Her left hand lost its grip and now she was left dangling by the fingers of her other hand. She scrambled to regain her grip, slipped, and fell-
-right into her mother's arms. "Nana! she cried. "The bad man from the Harad is in our room! He has 'Darion and Ellie!"
Mixed relief and terror swelled in Arwen's heart as she held her youngest daughter to her breast while fearing for her other children. She turned to see Elessar, Éomer, and Lothíriel running towards her. "We've been deceived," she cried. "While we tarried down here, our enemy has chosen to strike what we hold most dear. We have no time to waste!"
She turned on her heels and sprinted up the stairs and through the halls, her husband and friends following, praying to Eru they were not too late.

"Your own?" snarled Eldarion. "When did Gondor ever belong to you? You have no right."
"Oh... but I have every right," rasped Suladân, raising his head slightly. "You think this land has always belong to the Númenorean race? You think you have some kind of claim to this land?"
"Whether we do or not, we live here now," said Eldarion, "and so do many thousands of innocent men, women, and children who want nothing more than to dwell in peace. They would not have that peace under your rule."
"LIAR!" yelled Saladin as he balled his fists. "My father is a wise and just ruler!"
"Wise and just?" sneered Elarinya. "When did oppressing your own citizens and setting fire to a hall in which you are a guest become wise and just?"
Saladin leapt to his feet and seemed about to attack, but just then the door burst open and Elessar and Éomer came rushing in with their swords drawn. They stopped at the sight of Suladân collapsed on the floor and Saladin with his fists raised. When he saw the Kings with their long sharp swords and the fury in their eyes, he fell to his knees. "I yield," he muttered.
"Please don't hurt me."
"'Darion! Ellie!" Arwen put Vanessë down and they both ran to hug their beloved kin. Elessar sheathed his sword Andúril and joyfully joined the reunion.
"We're all safe now," he said reassuringly. "Suladân's arm cannot reach us now."

Suladân's wound was treated and he and his son, along with the guards who accompanied them, were escorted back to Harad as criminals to be judged under a Southron vizier. Suladân perished en route of complications resulting from the combined stresses of his injury and his illness. Saladin was delivered unto the vizier and sent to Khand to work for the Variags, as most orphan boys of that land were. It is not known what became of him thereafter.
As to our other principle characters, Elfwine and Fréawyn lived out their days together in glory and bliss, and she bore him three strong sons and a beautiful daughter.
Eldarion eventually married the elder of the Rohirric maidens with whom he had been conversing at Elfwine and Fréawyn's wedding, and like his father before him sired a son and two charming and exquisite daughters.
When Vanessë grew up, she caught the eye of the young King Brand III of Dale, and much to everyone's surprise (and her father's dismay) she married him and went to dwell with him in the north as his queen, where she gave him two sons and two daughters.
And Elarinya... she also met an unexpected fate. Her encounter with Suladân and Saladin had awakened in her a thirst for adventure that could not be sated. She began to train with the sword as well as the bow and arrow, and soon surpassed all her instructors in skill. She continued to leave the city on various expeditions, and in desperation her mother and father sent her to dwell with Prince Faramir and Lady Éowyn in Ithilien for a few months, in the hopes that Elarinya might learn from Éowyn's experience.
When they received a letter from Elarinya requesting to remain in Ithilien for a while longer, they were surprised, but it soon transpired that Elarinya had fallen in love with Faramir and Éowyn's grandson Barahir, and they wished to be married straightaway.
This was soon done, and the pair traveled together all over Middle-earth, encountering much adventure and little boredom. I would finish their tale, but as a wise Halfling once said, the great tales never end, and this one has been long enough as it is.