Chapter 1

Amárië wandered the garden, gazing at the flowers. They were pearl white, deep purple, or blue like the eyes of Manwë. The only sound she heard was the chirping of the crickets. Her surroundings were so mesmerizing, that she did not hear a second person enter the garden.

“Amárië!” the person exclaimed joyfully.

She turned around and looked at the ground first to compose herself. She dreaded having to tell him what her Ammë had pushed her into doing. What will he do when he hears what I am going to tell him? Once she felt she was ready, she looked up with a fake smile and said stiffly. “I am so glad you made it. I thought you had to go to Taniquetil today for the huge feast Manwë is holding, there?”

He strode up to her, and then led her towards a bench, still holding her hands. “I do, but I have delayed so I may say farewell to you, and you do not wonder why I left without a word.”

“You are too kind,” she said with trepidation. She felt she did not deserve him. “But I must tell you something.” She dreaded the next words she was about to make.

“What is it? Has someone been injured?”

She waved his concerns aside. This was it. Once I say it, I will never be able to face him as an equal. “No. It is that my Ammë --”

“What has she made you think this time?”

“She does not want me to see you anymore…” Amárië explained. She lowered her eyes, so as not to see his contempt.

“Why?” he asked calmly, as if he knew the answer already.

"She says that I should not waste my time and youth on someone who will never wear a crown," she stated bitterly, turning away from him. "Someonewho will never make me Queen of the Noldor, and thusbring honor and respect back to our family's name."

He looked at her for a long time before speaking. “I must say that I am injured by her offense, but we can ignore that, Amárië,” he said. “Think! If you love me, we can get married, now, or you run away. She cannot stop us from being together then!”

Amárië listened. This was breaking her. She knew her Ammë did this to help her, yet she Amárië could see no good, for her, coming for rejecting him. She could feel tears flow down her burning cheeks. “No, no, I will not do it! I will not fail my mother and my family. I can not just leave them after all they have done for me. My Ammë has made many requests of me, but I know this is one that she is completely serious about… so, I apologize…”

It was too much for her to have to refuse him, but to see him standing before her, tall and fair… She fled, running from the garden, weeping and distraught. While running she tripped and fell on the dirt ground. The Prince rose from his kneeling position and rushed to assist her. When she saw him offering his hand, she slapped it harshly away, but immediately regretted it. Too ashamed of herself, to see his expression, Amárië rose quickly, ignoring the painful bruises, and this time ran faster than she thought she could, from both him and the garden, into the misty light of silver Telperion.

Ammë- Quenya for mother.