That night, a meeting was held. It was dark out, and the inside of the Citadel wasn't much brighter. Inside a single room, four women sat with a few candles as light sources. Four of the suitors had something to discuss.

"This may be more difficult than we anticipated," murmured Alodia, twirling her blonde hair in thought.

Nemir agreed with her. "I can see already he has no interest in marriage yet."

Malwen sighed. "Yet we cannot fail."

"I will not give Halion the satisfaction of conquering the Reunited Kingdom." Cwen spat out angrily. "If he has managed the ritual."

The women were well acquainted. Each powerful members of their own societies, as children they had been brought up with the promise of even more power if they listened to their benefactor. They were members of an organization called simply The Council. At present, the Council's aim was not to topple the Reunited Kingdom's regime, but to steer it towards their own agendas.

Halion Carnimendo had once been called a Council member. Then he had failed in his mission to overtake the north, and secure a Fëanorian. With the death of his lover Tinneth, Elrohir's fourth child, the Fëanorians slipped through their grasp. He fled after being expelled from the Council.

Their Benefactor sent in the four most beautiful of the women in the Council. Alodia of Rohan, maiden fair. Cwen of Dunland, warrior fierce. Malwen of Annuminas, skilled tactician. Nemir of Dol Amroth, seductress of the highest order. What they hadn't counted on was Adira of Harad.

She slept soundly in the comfortable bed of the Citadel. Adira had gone to bed early, eager to get a good night's sleep. Her belly was full of warm food and her body exhausted from the multi-month journey she had taken.

"Psst."

Adira opened her eyes.

"Psst!"

She rolled over and found herself looking at Malika in the doorway. With an eyeroll, she rolled away from her baby sister and back towards the wall.

"Oh come on Adira!" Malika growled. "You should see this place at night."

Adira sighed and sat up. She looked around her room and saw a match beside her. She lit the candle on her bedside table. Turning the her sister she finally spoke. "Come here."

Malika bounced over to her and clambered up onto the bed. "Seriously. This place is massive! You've got to see it."

"Malika," Adira sighed. "I am here to win the Prince's hand. I cannot be caught running around the citadel. And neither can you."

Malika folded her arms. "Come off it. Sídhil said it would be fine."

"Malika! We've not even been here a day yet," Adira whispered in exasperation. "If you want to explore, fine. But I am stayinghere."

With a pout, Malika got off the bed. "Fine. I should've known you'd turn boring as soon as we arrived." She shut the door behind her, leaving her sister to go back to sleep.

Sídhil was waiting outside the door. "Didn't go well?"

Malika shook her head. "No. That's okay. She can be boring if she wants."

Together the two tween girls ran off to explore. Sídhil knew a secret back way out of the citadel guarded by but one soldier. He was easy enough to distract when there were two of them. And so they were out into the Uppermost level.

"We should go see the White Tree," Sídhil suggested.

Together they walked, Malika in her red dress and Sídhil in her grey one, down the main row of guards. All of them shot suspicious glances at the girls, but none objected. As long as the girls stayed in the upper level, they would be safe.

"What's the White Tree?" Malika asked her new friend.

"Well, father has told me many stories about it." Sídhil told her. "He found it over fifty years ago, right before he was crowned king. It means he's worthy to be King."

Malika thought this extremely silly. "Why?"

"Well, you see, many thousands of years ago, there was an Island. On the Island, called Numenor, was a White Tree given to them by the Valar."

"Valar?" Malika scrunched her nose. "What are they?"

Sídhil's shocked expression made Malika feel stupid. "The Valar are the ones who created the world of Arda. What do you call the creators?"

"We call them the Valiha." Malika pronounced the word in Southron for Sídhil.

"Well, Valar is the elvish word for them." Sídhil explained this as they came close to the flowering White Tree. "On Numenor, there were white trees like this one given by the Valar to them. One seed survived when Numenor was destroyed."

"This seed?" Malika asked in awe, looking up at the white branches, behind which the large moon floated, crowned with stars.

"Not this one," Sídhil shook her head. "This seed came from the old seed."

Malika went to place her hand on the bark of the tree when she noticed Sídhil shake her head. She drew back.

"You do not touch it, then?" asked the Haradrim girl.

Sídhil shrugged. "I've never seen anyone touch it."

Malika considered this. All the reverence for a tree confused her, even if it was a special tree. It wasn't a person. But she supposed her own culture likely looked odd to the men of the North, so she respected their tradition.

"Let's go look out over the Pelennor!" Sídhil suggested eagerly, grabbing Malika's hand and drawing her towards the edge far in front of them. Finally reaching the edge, Malika stood on her tiptoes to look out over the land.

"This would be easier in daylight," Sídhil sighed. "But moonlight will have to do. Over there, straight ahead, that's Osgiliath. It's been recently rebuilt to it's height again. Beyond that over the river and to the right is Emyn Arnen."

"Who lives there? Is that where elves live?" Malika wondered where the fair folk were.

"No. Emyn Arnen is where Prince Faramir and Lady Eowyn live, though the lady is sick right now." Sídhil's face fell visibly at that. "The elves live even further into Ithilien, at Amon Loth. My cousin Aderthon might take me there soon, he said. He and my brother want me to finally meet Lord Legolas."

Malika didn't recognize the name. "Legolas?"

"Only the greatest elven fighter of the War of the Ring!" Sídhil's mouth parted in shock. "He killed a Mumakil all on his own."

"Mumakil are hard to kill," Malika shrugged. "But harder to tame."

With a shrug, Sídhil continued. "Anyways, my father wishes for an ambassador from Amon Loth to live here in Minas Tirith. Aderthon is being sent to ask Legolas for one."

The girls grew tired, and soon decided to head inside as the moon went low. The stars, dancing in the blanket of darkness, grew paler. They walked back until they were almost to the main door when suddenly they heard a noise.

"Meow."

They turned and saw a beautiful white cat strolling alongside the wall. Sídhil smiled, but Malika looked suspicious.

"Look how cute!" Sídhil cried, approaching it.

But Malika warned her. "In my culture, cats are considered cursed. For once a Queen of Umbar taught them how to spy."

Sídhil rolled her eyes. "Oh come. That's silly."

"Maybe," Malika shrugged. "But let's get inside. It's time to sleep, anyhow."