((Advance disclaimer: This is NOT my own story. I translated it and adjusted it to Middle-Earth lore from a myth from my home country. Nimlith told this story at a Wilderness Appreciation Event in the North Downs.))
In the place that is now called the North Downs, once a great kingdom of the Dunedain stood; a part of greater Arnor, the king of Fornost ruled in the North. And in his kingdom, there were a great many duchies and fiefdoms, and many knights plead allegiance to the king.
This story is about a young knight of this land, but even more so of his wife.
For the knight had a young and beautiful wife, and they loved each other as well, so it was said.
Yet one day, the king of Fornost called the knight into service for fighting the witch king of Angmar.
"I must go" said the knight to his wife, "for I have vowed to protect the king and do as he bids."
"Of course you must" his wife said. "But I have heard the witch king has evil men and women in his service, and it is said his sorceresses can take one look at a man and he will lose his heart."
And she was worried, and bade her husband: "Please promise me that you will be true to me, come what may."
"I promise this to you," her husband replied.
"Then this is enough for me," the wife said, "your word is all I needed."
But at this a fear befell the husband, and he asked his wife: "But what of you, my wife? Will you be true to me?"
"Of course I will," she replied. "You have my word."
Yet perhaps the witch-king had already seeded doubt in his heart, for it was heavy. And he could not sleep, but asked his wife again:
"What proof do I have that you will be true? You must give me a token, for I do not trust the word of a woman."
The wife only nodded, and she said: "Give me a day, and I shall return with a token."
And she set to work in her chambers. All day and all night she worked, without stopping for rest or food. And when she came out, she had a white shirt in her hands that she gave to her husband.
"This shirt you shall wear over your armour," she told her husband, "and it shall never be stained, nor bloodied, while I am true to you."
For she had woven and made it herself, and her love was the only magic that went into it. The men of Arnor still had some power in these days, as they were Dunedain of old, and she was noble.
And the knight put on the shirt over his armour, and girded his sword around it, and went to war.
And as the war went on, whether his own blood or the blood of his enemies flowed, there was no stain on his shirt, for his wife was true to him.
But the war took a turn for the worse, and the witch-king prevailed over the forces of Fornost, and many were slain or captured. The knight himself did not fall; he was captured as a slave, and brought to Angmar for labour.
And whether he slept in the dirt or worked in Angmar's fields, there was no stain on his shirt, for his wife was true to him.
Yet as wicked as the men of Angmar were, they did not dare take the shirt off him, for they saw it was imbued with a magic power. And so the witch-king one day heard word of this slave with the magic shirt, and he bade him come before him and tell his story.
And as he heard of the origin of the shirt, he laughed cruelly and spoke: "Here at last is a tale of true love. I should like to test this love."
And the witch-king bade his most beautiful vassal come before him and commanded him to go to the south, find the knight's wife and win her heart, for he did not believe that such a love would exist among the Free Peoples.
The vassal complied, but with a heavy heart; for as he heard the story a great pity had come into his heart for the knight's wife, and a great admiration for her fidelity. But he was afraid of the witch-king, and so he went south, and came at last to the knight's castle and found his wife.
Yet as he first laid eyes on her, his heart fell for one so beautiful and so faithful to her husband; and he would not seduce her, but instead told her the truth and his whole story. And the wife, as she heard it, was moved in turn by his admiration; but as she knew he had only fallen in love with her for her virtue she stayed faithful to her husband.
And the Angmarim said: "For your virtue I loved you, and as you chose to stay faithful to your husband I love you even more; but I cannot stay, for that would surely destroy us both."
And he fled, returning to Angmar to face the punishment of his lord.
But as she saw him leave, the wife's heart was torn and she found no more rest. And she could not sleep, but walked her chambers all night; and as morning came, she emerged.
"I must go to Angmar," she said to herself, "for now I know my husband is alive, and it is my duty to do all that is in my power to free him."
She put on the clothes of a travelling minstrel boy, and a hood that well hid her face and features, and alone she went north to find him.
Wherever she went, she sang and played the lute to pay for her stay, and as her voice was sweet word spread of the sad minstrel boy with the lovely voice, who never showed his face.
Thus she finally came to Angmar, and by her reputation alone was soon sent to play for the witch-king. And to the witch-king she sang her saddest song, so sad it even touched the heart of the wicked sorcerer. He commanded her to sing another song.
"I shall," she spoke, "but you must grant me a slave as escort from your land thereafter, for the way back is long and dangerous, and I wish to return home."
"Escort you shall have" the witch-king promised. "You may choose one of my slaves."
"Then I wish this slave." And she pointed out her husband from the rows of slaves.
The witch-king bade the slave to be freed, and with a song the woman had freed her love, as once Luthien freed Beren.
But she did not show her face to her husband as they left, nor on the road, though long they travelled together. And as they finally parted, the knight said:
"Here now is my castle, and here our roads must part; but I bid thee, come up to the castle so that I may reward you for freeing me."
"Nay," said the minstrel, "I do not require riches. Only give me a piece of this magic shirt of yours, and we shall be even."
"This I cannot do," the knight said. "For it was made by my beloved wife, and is proof of her faithfulness."
But the minstrel would not give in, and in the end the knight gave a piece of the shirt away, not bigger than the palm of his hand. And so they parted ways.
And the knight returned to his castle; but the wife returned by a different path and arrived before him, cast off her minstrel clothes and welcomed him as his wife.
Yet still the witch-king's words and deeds gnawed on the knight's heart; and despite the proof of the shirt he doubted his wife. And so he asked a servant what had happened while he was away.
"A dark man from Angmar came to the castle," the servant replied truthfully. "And not long after that, your wife left the castle and only returned shortly before you arrived."
At those words the knight's mind was beset by madness; and he bade his wife to come before him and asked her if the servant's accusations were true.
"It is as the servant said" the wife replied.
And rage blinded the man, and he cast his wife to the ground and bade her explain herself.
"For you see the piece missing from my shirt?" he asked. "I cut it off for I saw a stain there, the stain of your unfaithfulness!"
But she did not say a word, but fled to her chambers and locked the door.
The knight pursued her, and broke the door to her chambers. But on the bed sat not his wife, but the same minstrel boy who had rescued him, the lute across his knees.
"Twice I am thus betrayed!" the knight raged. "To think that the same minstrel boy who rescued me also stole my wife from me!" And he drew his sword to slay the minstrel.
Yet as he grabbed the minstrel's clothes, her hood fell from her face, and the knight recognized his wife. And she showed him the piece of cloth she had taken from his shirt, white as on the first day.
"Ever was I faithful to you, and ever will I be" she said. "But for your doubt, I shall no longer speak to you, from now to the rest of our days."
And she was true to her word. And today, the knight's castle lays in ruins, and none remember his name, nor that of his family.
