Irenia woke up later that night, finding herself on the floor of the outer city walls. The moon had passed behind the Mountains of Minas Tirith.

But the night still seemed to gleam silver, like moonlight. The small girl wondered where it came from, until she realized it was her.

She seemed to gleam as if she herself was a moon, the light coming out of a point on her forehead.

Irenia was shocked. That was clearly magic, and it was her. So, the tales about being moonborn were true...

But that was impossible. She was Irenia, daughter of her pa. It didn't make sense.

Still, it feeled so right. As if it was part of her.

And that voice... He had known her name. And claimed her.

Whatever "Claiming" meant, she wasn't going to ask.

She wouldn't even tell anyone.

She was going to stay Irenia and not cause any trouble.

She concentrated on the point on her forehead and the feeling next to her heart. She told them to be silent, as she would tell Lothíriel to shut it.

She had the authority.

She could control it.

And they obeyed.

The light faded. Irenia didn't look like a human torch any longer.

The feeling of leaving home to join the moon decreased.

Irenia turned and walked back home.

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From then on, the girl could have been seen visiting the moon most nights. Although no one ever saw her, what was strange, but Irenia just supposed it was some other sort of moon-magic. She learned to control her glowing and the longing of leaving. It all came natural to her; she was acting instinctively, as if the magic was part of her.

She could glow a little bit, but then the power needed was to great for her. She got fitter, but she could never make it more than a few minutes. Once - she had no idea why; probably just an instinct as well - she started singing, an old gondorian lullaby. Irenia had a very soft and beautiful voice, but she didn't get the lyrics right. Somehow her feeling seemed to tell her that if she found the right tune and the right lyrics, her power would increase. She didn't want power to control the world. She just wanted to know what she was able to do. Irenia felt theses lyrics needed to be something old, older than time, but the girl didn't know any old songs. So she just kept humming nonsense.

But the being-able-to-glow-stuff felt much to private to share, and Irenia didn't want to be different, so she hid it. The girl continued to play with the other kids, mostly Lothíriel, and helping Amaria in the house.

One summer evening almost a year later, something happened that changed things again. Lothíriel wouldn't be able to play that much any more, because she was to be educated. Some of the old men in the tower would teach her reading, calculating, conversation, poise, logic, ethic and judging people. In the afternoon, she would be finished and come out to play, and she would tell Irenia many things; that she thought poise was stupid and logic boring and that she would never have to judge anyone because her father would be doing it, and that she'd much rather learn riding and fighting because it was more exiting. "Look", she would say, "My Cousins get to do the all the good stuff. They can use swords and ride horses. If I was a boy, I could do that as well. Oh, why aren't I a boy? It would be so much more fun."

Irenia tried to reason her. If she was a boy, she still had to learn logic and whatsoever, and she had much less time. And fighting was dangerous; it looked cool and it surely would do something good to Gondor, because war was coming and they needed many fighters. At least Beleg had told her so. Besides, Irenia thought that she herself would love to learn reading. Lothíriel had once shown her Minas Tiriths' library, and Irenia had wondered what all those books and pages were saying. She had wanted to discover their secrets, to learn and to discover new things.

The girl tried to explain all that to her friend, but she didn't understand. She thought riding a horse over the plains would be more interesting and definitely more fun.

They were almost arguing when one of Lothíriels Cousins came by. It was the older one, Boromir. He was two years older than Beleg, almost 17 and clearly a fighter. He frightened Irenia, so she half-hid behind Lothíriel.
"Lothí, come on! Master Filippus sent me to fetch you. He said it was time for your reading lessons. You're old enough to come on your own!"
Irenia felt her friend getting angry.
"I told you to NEVER EVER call me Lothí! And I don't want to learn stupid reading! See, you can't read..."
"I can't read?! Of course I can read, little cousin! And now get on, or I'll have to pull you!"
"Don't!", Irenia was frightened. Beleg had once pulled her home, and it had been awful.
"You'll hurt her!"
"Of course I won't pull her!"
"But you just said..."
" I didn't mean it! I just have to get her home! Now, come on, Lothí! Or I'll carry you."
"My name ISN'T Lothí! And right now I want to play with Irenia! And as she can't come, I'll stay here."
"So you would come on you own, right NOW, if I allowed your little friend to come along?"
"I, umm...", Lothíriel seemed to think. Then she turned to her:
"Irenia, would you like to come?"
Irenia thought about this. She wanted o learn reading and find out what the books said. Maybe she could even find a song for her magic...
"Sure, if I may?"
"He'd better let you!" Lothíriel turned to her cousin.
"She's coming along."
"Fine with me. You know the way. I need to train. I trust you not to run away, all right?"
Lothíriel had already started walking, pulling Irenia behind her. The little girl was stunned. She remembered shouting at Boromir. But she was shy, wasn't she? Why then...?
"Lothírie...", she started
"Come on!", she pulled her on, "We can talk when we're out of sight.", she whispered in her ear. Irenia followed.

After racing up some turns of the street, Lothíriel seemed to be sure her cousin wouldn't follow. She slowed down and asked Irenia: "Now, we're save. What were you going to say?"
"Oh. Well, nothing. I just wondered why I talked. I mean, I've never met you cousin before. Why did I do that?"
Lothíriel laughed. "Come on, Irenia. I always told you you were getting braver, didn't I?"
"But he could have smashed me right away!"
"He didn't, did he? So what? Besides, he would have to deal with me for smashing my friend. Now, let's hurry some more. Master Fillipus doesn't like me being late."
"But I can't read!"
"You'll learn it fast enough. I'll help."

Lothíriel seemed to be right. Irenia could soon read as good as her, and the friends visited the lessons together. At least the ones concerning reading; Master Filippus didn't seem to care about teaching two little girls instead of one their letters. No one told the steward, because Boromir had allowed it, and sometimes Faramir came along. Faramir wasn't a fighter, but more a intelligent person. He liked to discuss important questions, like "Is it right to kill a wounded opponent", or something alike.

One time, half a year later (because of her studies, Lothíriel now spend most of the year in Minas Tirith), the two girls got to visit the library for searching some old papers for information about old Gondor. Irenia loved it. The parchments were old and smelly, and when she opened them, the letters she had learned formed words, the words formed Sentences, and the sentences told stories about the old times. There once had been a king in Gondor, and many battles, victories, and defeats. She learned where the Gondorians, the Númenorans came from. She read of the fall of Númenor, of the origin of the white tree, of a land in the west, of the elves and of the beginning of  light in Arda. Then she stuck to a fascinating paragraph:

"The maiden whom the Valar chose from among the Maiar to guide the vessel of the sun was named Arien, and he that steered the island of the moon was Tilion. In the days of the Trees Arien had tended the golden flowers in the gardens of Vána, and watered with the bright dews of Laurelin; but Tilion was a hunter of the company of Orome, and he had a silver bow. He was a lover of silver, and when he would rest he forsook the woods of Orome, and going into Lórien he lay in dream by the pools of Este, in Telperions flickering beams; and he begged to be given the task of tending for ever the last flower of Silver. Isil was first wrought and made ready, and first rose into the realm of the stars, and was the elder of the new lights, as was Telperion of the trees. Then for a while the world had moonlight, and many things stirred and woke that had waited long in the sleep of Yavanna. The servants of Morgoth were filled with amazement, but the elves of the outer lands looked up with delight; and even as the moon rose above the darkness in the west, Fingolfin let blow his silver trumpets and began his march into Middle-earth, and the shadows of his host went long and black before them. And word then spread that Tilion would choose some of the kids that were born in the full light of the moon and claim them when six years of the sun and the moon had passed. Those children had a love of silver and of the moon as he did, and some of them even could beam the light of the moon, when they sung the song of the moon. But this is a seldom and dangerous gift; few ever resisted the call of the moon. They would eventually join their father as a light among the stars. The words of the song are forgotten, but there are some that..."

A hand grabbed Irenia from behind. Frightened to death, she let the roll drop.

And cut. Nice tree. Not.

As you can see, I wrote something! You may be proud of me. I, at least, am.

Well, I copied the paragraph on top from the Silmarillion (Chapter: of the sun and moon. Surprisingly.) I added some things so it would fit the story.

However. Tomorrow's Monday (Noooooo! I need to die!) and I'm hungry.

Bye.