Time passed. Irenia spent most of her time mending torn clothes and repairing her fathers' and Belegs' armor, and if she didn't know how to do it, she went to the smithies and asked for advice. 

The old master, Telperion, often showed her how to do it and one time even gave her a beautiful knife; not for cooking but "To defend yourself in times of great need. And you'll need it, Lassie: you know war is coming." Irenia was a bit frightened, but as everyone was talking of the last battle these days, she was rather used to it.

There was talk of sending the women and children to safety, but so far nothing had happened. The attacks on the City, on Osgiliath and on Gondors' borders had grown bolder and more soldiers were needed in defensive positions.

Irenia still practiced her magic songs and her elvish, but she was no longer permitted in the city library. Master Philippus had told her that, because neither Lothíriel nor Faramir or Boromir were in the city, it would draw to much attention to herself if she went to the white tower on her own.
And he told her, that she'd been strangely fortunate that the lord Denethor hadn't appeared yet. Irenia just smiled, because lately she had been humming a Denethor-there's-no-reason-for-you-to-go-to-the-library-just-send-one-of-your-sons – Tune whenever she had been studying.

But she kept away, and there was more than enough to do in her little home, so she didn't miss it much.

Usually she carried the knife that master Telperion had given her along, just in case she needed to defend herself and because she didn't want anyone to ask questions about it.
The weapon was indeed extraordinary; the hilt was white, embedded with silver veins and the blade was a mixture of normal steel and mithril, a wealthy metal from the mines of Moria.

Telperion had used a piece of Mithril that had been in his family for years and that was kept a strong secret.
"I don't know where it came from", he had told her, "But my father used to tell me there was a tale saying that one day there would be a maiden in great need of a weapon, and she would break the shadows and bring light to all of middle earth again. And now I give it to you, Irenia, daughter of Nahoril. Your father is a good man, and if you can believe the gossip saying-..."
"That I am moonborn, you think I could destroy the shadows?", Irenia interrupted.
"Oh, I don't know anything. But I've got a feeling, and Mithrandir told me you might need a weapon."

Irenia smiled, thanked him politely and then went back home to finish the armor.

She never had to use the knife, fortunately. But when she tried to send moonlight trough her blade, it started shining so strong Irenia had no doubt the shadows she would probably kill one day wouldn't like it.

When she had spare time, she sometimes helped Amaria and sometimes the sisters shared their tasks and spend the days talking of everything as they used to.

Every now and then, Bergil would come as well, but the boy was usually busy fetching tools for the houses of healing.

So time passed, and when the leaves started falling, the women and children finally were sent to safety, some to the woods of Lossanarch, some to relatives in the country, some to cities in Gondor.

Luckily, Amaria and Barahir went to Calembel with Irenia, so she wasn't lonely.

After 5 days, the small company finally arrived in the city. It wasn't as big as Minas Tirith and certainly not as beautiful and fortified, but it was a place to live.

The three of them took refuge in a abandoned house, standing with its back to the mountains of Ered Nimrais, and after Barahir had lit a small fire in the fireplace, the hut felt a lot cozier.

That night, Irenia carefully climbed the mountain in whose shadow the place was built and sang to the moon, admiring it.
And as she sang, the words slowly changed, and out of a song of longing came a song of calling all that held the moon dear.

Soon a pack of what seemed like large dogs came near, and even though Irenia was frightened to death, she kept singing. Ere long they joined in; the wolves of the mountain howling, hoping to learn of the moons' wisdom, admiring its beauty and pleading it to let them join it on his heavenly path.

The moon just kept shining, apparently not caring at all about a bunch of wolves and a tiny maid. But they kept singing, and the magic of the song wove a band of hope, bravery and longing for a life, far from the sadness of the earth. And all people of Carembel, the guards, the infants and simple people that heard it took new courage and looked into the dark night for comfort, eventually resting in the sweet memory of sleep.

And it grew colder and colder, until one day the first snowflake came traveling down from the sky, telling of the start of winter.

That winter, Irenia helped out in the city wherever she was needed; she told tales to the children, listened to the grandfathers and led the mothers a hand. She fixed armor and clothes, cleaned pots and played games. Sometimes she helped the guards watching the mountains and the fields. One time she bandaged a wolfs' paw, looked after stew, comforted widows and spread happiness wherever she went.
In the night she visited the wolves and sang, and on her fifteenth birthday Barahir managed to get her a pair of new shoes.

On the 25th of December Amaria bore her first son, and on Irenias' wish they named him Estel, the quenyan word for hope. Of course, no one knew so, but they liked the name and everyone was happy.

Irenia sensed important things were happening in middle- earth, but she could not see what and where. When the new year started, she found herself looking towards the west more regulary, hoping for a clue for what was going on.

Someone stole my holidays!!! Bad someone. If I had holidays, I would be able to write more.

But however, here's a chapter. It's short, but I made a storryplan (Yes, that's a word.) and for chapter four that's what happens.

So tree. Wonderful. No I need to go to my french conference.

Bye.