The characters in Minas Tirith

oes anyone remember her? The maiden who stumbled through the gates of Minas Tirith with haunted eyes and a ravaged countenance, her clothes in tatters and a small red-gold dragon she had saved from certain death at the hands of a wild woodsman held tightly in her arms.
Long had been her journey from her childhood home in Pelargir, which had been in flames the last she had seen of it, and in sorrow she had wandered the shore of Anduin; grieving for her father who had died defending the gates of the city, and her mother who had sacrificed herself to save the young maiden, and her lover whom the sea had claimed, and her brother whose fate was still uncertain. She had come to Minas Tirith seeking relatives who had once lived there. A hard blow it was to find out that no one seemed to know of them, for she was penniless and alone. So she had wandered the streets, sleeping in ditches and stealing food from marketplace stores in the dead of night. The dragon was her only companion and more than paid the debt he owed her by keeping her warm with his hot breath on cold winter nights when she would have frozen to death otherwise.

ut fortune, at last, smiled upon her when she learned that the relatives she had been seeking resided on a farm in fair Ithilien. So she had gone to live with them, but the end of her lost days was not without sadness, for she discovered that her brother had come to them as well with grievous wounds from his fight on the walls of Pelargir and had died of them only a few months before. She found his grave behind the house and knew without a doubt that she was an orphan in the world, surrounded by strangers, though kinsmen and quite concerned with her welfare, but still strangers.

hen there came the day that a large troll had come to Minas Tirith, attacking the city and killing many of the women and children that were powerless to stop him. The soldiers mobilized for attack. The maiden, working in the stables, immediately ran out and made her way to the city as fast as her small feet could carry her. Armed only with the pitchfork she had been using to clean the stables she cast her lot in with an Elven Ranger and a claw-armed priest facing down the troll. Her pitchfork won the battle that day and left the troll with a painful reminder of what happens to creatures who attack the White City that he would remember every time he sat down. In honor, she named her weapon Troll Bane, and that day she knew what her calling was. She would be a warrior.

n honor of her great deeds, she was promoted to the Tower Guard, and at least she could take her father’s beloved sword, Caladbolg, from the hiding place at the farm where she had stowed it until she was deemed fit to carry it. It shone with silver light, like Narsil of old, and there was Elven script upon the blade, the name of the Numenorean house she was born into in the High Speech of the Elves. To her arsenal she also added a trident, Celtic Fire, in honor of Troll Bane, which she had donated to Gondor’s Hall of Fame. Thus, the warrior was at last born, dressed always in black leather and silver gauntlets, weapons near at hand, and a fierce light in her eyes. Numerous were the battles she fought, and her valor earned her many friends, not the least of which was the Queen herself. At last, she was invited to be a Ranger and one of Her Majesty’s personal guard, and for the first time since losing her home and family in Pelargir, she felt she truly belonged.

ut other surprises were in store for her. As a result of her brave deeds in rescuing the Queen, who had been kidnapped, the King gave her fair Ithilien to rule in wisdom and justice. There is where her castle stands, Cair Loriatha, upon the hill, and her dragon, the small beast she had saved so long ago, guards its gates.

oes anyone remember the fair maiden that came to Minas Tirith lost and alone and forlorn? Only a warrior princess, who still has sense enough to grieve a little for the past, while always looking ahead to the future.

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