"I've worn some fine Elven gowns in my time. I was quite the catch in my youth." - Gruinith

2nd August/Urui T.A 3004 Duincar

The next morning Aragorn and Halbarad had already left by the time Anberenien came down to breakfast. Her father had decided to remain for one more day, promising to catch up with his kinsmen at a prearranged checkpoint. Anberenien noticed a frostiness between her grandmother and parents as they breakfasted together. They did not speak with one another but exchanged glares instead. After breakfast, Gruinith took Anberenien outside with her sticks.

Gruinith demonstrated the drills for Anberenien to follow. "You stick it like this and stick it like that, to kill the nasty Orcs!" Anberenien repeated the rhyme as she copied the movements with her sticks. But she kept making mistakes, eventually throwing them in frustration with so much force, her grandmother had difficulty pulling them out of the ground. "I think we should take a break, Little Sparrow," she said.

The two of them sat on the bench, Anberenien staring at the ground. "What is it, child?"

Anberenien looked up at her grandmother. "I wish I had never gone off at the market. Then no one would be quarrelling and Pappa would not be sending me away."

Gruinith pulled out a cloth that was tucked into her belt and held one of her blades aloft as she cleaned it. "Your father has told you enough tales for you to know who we are. We are not like other men. We live longer for a start. I am ninety-seven years old but do not look a day over fifty by middleman standards. But our people are dwindling. The Dark Lord has cast his shadow upon us for centuries. Through wars and plagues, he has diminished us. I do not like the thought of sending you away. But it would be a far worse thing if someone were to take you from us. Not just for your kinfolk, but for all the Dúnedain."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, sheathed the blade she had cleaned and pulled out the other. "These are ancient. They belonged to my mother, a Chieftain's daughter. Given to her by her mother at her maiden feast as her mother had done. They have passed from mother to daughter since we passed across the sundered sea back to Middle Earth, perhaps even longer than that. However, your mother had not the wit nor desire to learn the discipline and I feared I would be buried with them. Then you were born, and I knew, the moment I looked into your eyes, that I would live long enough to pass them to you."

"What is a maiden feast?" asked Anberenien.

"When you get your first blood, you will no longer be a child. But a maiden and will be old enough to wed in a few years."

"But what is first blood?"

"Has your mother not spoken to you of this? It comes every moon cycle from the privy parts and means you can birth sons,"

"But what does wed mean?"

Gruinith sighed. "It should mean that you fall in love, say your vows before your friends and kinfolk, and give your husband lots of sons. If you are lucky, you might just have a daughter. But your father wants to wed you to a Gondorian Prince far away in the south. That's why you have to go to Rivendell, to learn to be a noble lady."

"Mamma says my uncles all died before they wed."

Gruinith took a sharp intake of breath. Anberenien noticed her lips were wobbling. "Brave boys, all of them. I trained them myself, all seven of them. Your grandfather perished as your mother quickened in my womb." She sniffed, re-sheathed the clean blade, and put her arm around Anberenien.

The two of them sat in silence for some time, as village life continued about them. A thought floated into Anberenien's mind. As if a voice was whispering in her ear. "Grandmother, I am no child! I will not wed a man nor have sons!"

Gruinith burst out laughing. "And just who will you wed, Little Sparrow? A Dwarf or a Halfling? For I very much doubt it would be an Elf. And wed you must should our chieftain take his throne. One such as you cannot be spared from such a duty." She pondered for a moment. "How would it be if I came with you to Rivendell? After all, I have not finished your training yet and your mother cannot go. She has the village to run."

Anberenien jumped up excitedly. This was the best news she had heard all day. "You would come and live with me in Rivendell? Oh, but wouldn't you have to wear a dress?"

Gruinith chuckled. "I am sure Lord Elrond will let me dress as I will, most days. But I've worn some fine Elven gowns in my time. I was quite the catch in my youth." She glanced over at the entranceway. "Perhaps it is time for a gentler pace in life. I fear I am outstaying my welcome here. Now you go collect some eggs. Your mother will call you in for your lessons soon enough."

Anberenien ran off to the chicken coop, collecting a basket on the way. As she searched for eggs, she looked up and noticed several large crows perched on top of the Great Hall. They were looking straight at her as if watching her every move. A shudder went through Anberenien and she called out to her grandmother. Rodon came out from the stables at the sound of her cries and was dumbstruck by such large crows. Then Anberenien saw a stone lying in the hay, picked it up and hurled it at them with all her might. It struck one of the crows directly in the head, causing its body to fall to the ground. The others screeched as they dispersed back into the sky.

Gruinith came running out of the Great Hall. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of the large bird. She picked it up and called to Beren and he hurried out of the hall. "What has happened? Is Anberenien safe?"

Gruinith showed him the bird's body, and the colour drained from his face. "A Crebain? Here? This is ill news indeed! How many were there and how was this one slain?"

"It was the young lady, my Lord," called Rodon. "She threw a stone, and it hit one of them. She has a good aim, my Lord."

Beren called Anberenien to him and showed her the bird. "Did you do this?"

Anberenien nodded slowly, fearing she was in trouble. "Beginner's luck I'd say. Well done, Little Sparrow, you have just slain your first foe," said Gruinith.

Naerien came out of the Hall. When she saw the bird, she let out a yelp. "Fear not, it's dead. But there were others, so Rodon tells me," said Beren. He questioned Anberenien as to what happened and his face was grim. Naerien embraced Anberenien, telling her how proud she was of her brave daughter. Beren took the bird from Gruinith, sent Rodon to get his father and ushered his family inside.

Once within the hall, he laid the bird on the table and searched the body until he found what he was looking for. "Good Mother, look!"

Gruinith stared at the body and swallowed. "We are discovered!"

Tolben entered the Hall as Beren declared that the Crebain bore the Mark of the Enemy. He ordered him to send a messenger bird to Aragorn urgently. "Good Mother, it appears I must ask a service of you. Govern the village as we prepare to evacuate. It will only be a matter of time now before Duincar is attacked. In the morning, I will take Naerien and Anberenien, to Rivendell."

"How much time do we have?" asked Gruinith.

"A few days........... if we are lucky. You are well-versed in this task. Take the people northward. Aragorn will find a place for them. Go now, spread the word!" Gruinith immediately hurried out of the Great Hall.

"Mamma, what is happening?" asked Anberenien.

Naerien looked at her sadly. "The bird you killed. It was under the control of the Dark Lord. He knows where our village is now. So we must move our people to safety before we are attacked. In the morning Pappa will take us to Rivendell, we will be safe there. You have been a very brave girl, now you must be brave for a little longer."

Anberenien thought about her dream. About the large Crows and the Great Hall on fire. She clung on tight to Naerien. "Mamma, I do not want to lose you and Pappa."

Naerien wrapped her arms around her. "Fear not, Little Sparrow, you will never lose us."

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From the window of her room, Anberenien could see Rodon helping his father load chests and furniture on the cart. Her mother had told her to gather up only her most treasured possessions, so she had stowed her Hare and Stag safely in the pouch on her belt. Below, she could hear raised voices as her father held an emergency council. At first, she had watched from the landing before retreating to her room. The mood of the villagers was of fear and anger. Her parents had tried to calm them, some wanted to leave straight away. But Beren advised caution. "It is safer to travel as a group. Else, any Orcs will be able to pick you off more easily."

Anberenien felt terrible. She had not intended to kill the bird, just frighten it and the others. Her grandmother had always told her large crows were bad and to call out if she ever saw one. Her mind wandered back to when she was walking in the fields with her grandmother the previous winter. Gruinith had pointed to a row of birds making a cawing sound in the leafless trees. "Those Crows there are the safe ones. If they are any bigger than that, you should call for me, your Mamma or Pappa, if he is home. It is very important, you understand?"

"Yes Grandmother, but why?"

"Because Duincar is a hidden village. We are men and do not have knowledge of Elven enchantments. Big Crows are spies for the Dark Lord. If they find this village, Orcs will likely come and destroy us. The Dark Lord will not stop until every Dúnadan is slain or enslaved!"

Anberenien shivered as she remembered those words. She had often heard talk of the Dark Lord that lived in a place called Mordor with terrible creatures called Orcs, Goblins and Trolls. Mothers would warn their children that Orcs would get them if they strayed too far or misbehaved. Now the day they feared had come. The sun was hanging lower in the sky, bathing her room in golden light. Anberenien looked back at her lonely bed in the corner of her bare room. All of her chests had been removed.

Tomorrow at first light, she and her parents would leave the Great Hall for the last time and make their way to a new life in the Elven Realm of Rivendell. Now that her mother would be joining her, Anberenien felt hopeful. Whilst she was sad to be leaving Duincar and the only home she had ever known. She could not help but feel curious about the Elves and the place where she had been born.

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"Anberenien, Anberenien!" She could hear a voice calling her in her half-dreamy state. Her mother had put her to bed early, but she had struggled to sleep. Now, when she had finally drifted off, someone was shaking her awake. As her awareness increased, she coughed, and her throat felt dry and sore. She sat up to see her father, his mouth covered in a wet rag. "Take this and cover your mouth and nose. Hurry!" he said, thrusting another into her hands. Anberenien did as she was bid. The cool rag blocked the smoke and made it easier to breathe. Without a word, Beren picked her up, hastily carried her downstairs and out of the building.

Outside, there was panic. The roof of the Great Hall was alight, and the villagers were passing buckets of water from the well in order to try to put it out. There was smoke everywhere and she could hear animals calling out in distress from the stables. Tolben came running up to Beren. "My Lord, there are Orcs at the gates. They have already killed the Watchmen and will burst through at any moment!"

The pounding at the gates grew louder and Beren could see they were buckling under the strain. He called Gruinith, who was helping to put out the flames. "Where is Naerien?" she demanded.

"Alas, she took fright and locked herself in our bedchamber. I got Anberenien out and I am going back for her. Get to the tunnels, that is our only hope now!" Beren placed Anberenien down on the ground. He then removed his cloak, wrapped it around her, and fastened it with his star pin. "Take care of this for me. Until we meet again!" He then kissed her forehead. "Take her and go!" he ordered Gruinith.

Without a word, Gruinith lifted Anberenien with one arm. The other had one of her blades in it. From across her grandmother's shoulder, she saw men and women surrounding the gates with pitchforks and anything else they could use as a weapon. There was a tremendous thud as the gate came down and the most fearsome creatures spilled forth. Gruinith covered Anberenien's face with the hood of the cloak. "Best not to look, Little Sparrow." But Anberenien could still hear their screams.