Chapter 1
Ithílwyn
It had happened in such a short time that she could hardly believe it was her village now alight with angry fires. She could still hear the screams of terror ringing in her ear as the villagers made their escape. Her sister's husband had pushed the two of them out the door and shouted at them to run while the men drew whatever arms they possessed to allow the women and children to flee the village. Remembering that her sister had been crying as she dragged her out of the small house they lived in, she looked frantically for her. In terror she watched as her village went up in flames, people running in all directions as deformed and hideous creatures with swords and spears raise their arms victoriously. She stood at the edge of the forest and saw her sister running slowly towards her. Her eyes were wild and frantic and she gestured at her to run.
"Run, Millie run!" she heard her sister scream hysterically behind her. "Quickly! Hurry, I will come for you soon, just run Millie!" Panicking, she ran straight into the forest and did not look back. The branches of the trees tore at the sleeves of her dress as she ran deeper and deeper into the woods. Her tears were streaming down her face and her feet were crisscrossed with scratches and cuts. Even though her muscles were sore and her chest was heaving from exertion, she did not stop until she realized she was alone. She turned around and saw only trees. Her sister and her husband were nowhere in sight.
"Lia!" she screamed. Where was her sister? It was dark and cold in the forest and she was so tired. where was Lia? She should be here already. Her hands started shaking. She screamed her sister's name again. And again and again until her throat was sore. She tried to run back to where she came from and got herself helplessly lost. Every tree looked similar and there was no path to guide her way. Overwhelmed and exhausted, she slumped down to her knees as she screamed her sister's name one last time and fainted.
When she awoke, it was bright and sunny. Her eyes squinted as she adjusted to the light. Her entire body felt sore as she tried to sit up. To her shock she had slept on the forest floor and her dress was now hanging off her body in dirty, ragged strips. Slowly and painfully she got to her feet and wobbled before catching her balance. "Lia" she croaked, her throat hoarse and painful. Only trees and leaves were all she saw. "Lia!" she yelled in the loudest voice she could possibly muster. She started to cry. She saw her village burning in her memory .Her sister's husband, Wydhere who shouted furiously at them to leave before kissing his wife on the lips. Her sister telling her to head for the forest with tears in her eyes. Telling her to run and not help her up when she had tripped over a dead man. She remembered her sister behind her, screaming and shouting at her not to look back, that she was coming to get her. Yet, she was all alone in the forest. She cried until she could cry no longer and took time to calm herself down. She wiped her cheeks and her nose and wondered what she was to do. She decided that she would go look for her sister and stood back up on her feet shakily. She moved slowly, her legs were sore and her hands and arms were stinging from an assortment of cuts and bruises. She held onto the tree trunks with trembling hands as she moved forward until the sun blazed down on her back. Her small exhausted body gave way as she slumped to the floor. "Must. Find. Lia," she croaked through half-lidded eyes. The forest was turning blurry as she tried to stand up again. Her body would not follow her will and she fell against the tree. Her eyes closed and she fell asleep.
Finríel was struggling with a stubborn root that refused to be pulled out of the ground. Stubbornly she held on and tugged on. It came loose, sending her backwards and onto her back. She hmphed at the root and placed it in her basket filled with other leaves, flower heads and various tree barks. She saw the sun setting in the west and decided that she had gathered enough herbs for that day and made her way back to her cosy cave. She had been occupied, wondering what she was going to cook for her evening meal,that she certainly did not expect to see a girl sprawled at the base of a rowan tree. She was not known for interfering and she hesitated, hovering over the pathetic child. But decided in the end that she should at least make sure the girl was well before leaving her sprawled. The girl was absolutely not well. Her dark hair had twigs and leaves woven into it. Her lips were dry and bruised and her fair face had several cuts and bruises. Her dress was in tatters and Finríel supposed if she gave it a small tug, it would come unravelling off her thin body. The girl's arms and legs were badly cut and scratched and she wondered how this girl came to this predicament. She sighed out of compassion and out of slight irritation, knowing that she had to help the girl even though it would mean interfering with another's business. Where were the girl's parents? She breathed in and exhaled and placed her basket down. She lifted the girl onto her back, letting out a muffled groan in the process. Finríel was not young anymore and the girl was not light even though she had a deceptively thin frame. She sighed, knowing that she would have to come back again for those herbs.
The girl shivered and Finríel knew she was going to be sick. How long had the girl been lying against the tree? She muffled another groan and walked as fast as she could. She nearly dumped the girl on the cave floor when she arrived, exhausted as she was. She laid the girl on her sleeping furs and placed her near the fireplace which was a fairly rectangular shaped hole in the ground. It made cooking easier for Finríel especially as she could boil more than one pot at one time. She covered the shivering girl with three blankets and touched her forehead. "Her fever is bad", she thought and sighed. Finríel began preparing a tea for her fever. After settling a pot of water to boil, she took a cloth and a large bowl of water and tended to the girl's wounds. She pitied this lost girl, who was alone and in pain. "You are very fortunate that I found you," she reminded the girl whom she judged to be about eight or nine years old of age. The water boiled and she added her own mixture of herbs to the boiling water. She returned to washing the wounds and had to dress the girl in one of her own dresses. It did not fit her well but it would have to do for the time being. Finríel was plump and the girl was stick thin. After bandaging the more serious wounds, she tried to comb the leaves and twigs out of the girl's dark hair. She wondered why a Rohirric girl would have such a fine mass of dark hair as they were usually blond, with the occasional red hair. "You have dark hair too," she reminded herself but she knew she wasn't Rohirric. Her hair was soft and the twigs and the leaves came out easily after a few tugs and combs. She fed the tea to the girl slowly and laid her down on the furs again. She sighed. If the girl was strong, she would make it. She tried hard not to think about digging a grave. Her stomach rumbled in complaint and she began preparing a meal for herself.
She took a few potatoes she had dug up yesterday and some skinned rabbit meat she had in her larder and placed them in a clay pot. After adding herbs, water and salt, she closed the lid and placed it inside her fireplace, trying to bake the rabbit. The moon was full that night and it shone through her cave entrance. It settled on the girl who was sleeping peacefully. To Finríel, her skin seemed to shine in the moonlight. Her pale face had a shiny lustre to it and Finríel could not help herself but stare at the girl's face a while, and thought to herself that this girl would grow up to be beautiful indeed. She really did not resemble a Rohirric girl in any way. She was pale and fair while they had sunny complexions. She was also of a slightly smaller build than most of the girls. She wondered who her parents were and if this girl even belonged to this land. The smell of a baking rabbit caught Finríel's attention and she gave in to her hungry stomach. She ate half, intending to give some to the girl later. She went to check on her pile of dirty clothes, wondering if she needed to wash them soon. She returned to the front of her cave where she found the girl sitting up and sobbing.
"Do not cry, little one" she told the girl, moving to her side. The girl looked up at her with dark eyes. "You are safe here," she added in a comforting tone. She wondered if the girl spoke Rohirric. Awkwardly, Finríel wrapped her arms around her. The girl remained stiff at first and Finríel wondered if her action was welcome. Eventually she felt two hands at her back. She began to stroke the girl's soft hair. "What is your name?" she asked. The girl made no reply and continued sobbing into her shoulder. "It does not matter now," she gently chided. She helped the girl up and wiped the tears from her face. "Come and have dinner," she invited. The girl nodded and rubbed at her eyes. Finríel went to the clay pot and ladled out the baked rabbit into a bowl. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the girl staring at the fireplace as if she had not seen one before. She wondered how the girl felt, trapped in a strange cave with an old woman she did not know. She handed the bowl over to the girl who said nothing but ate hungrily. She ate another two bowls before she let out a tiny burp which she had the manners to cover her mouth with her hand.
"Thank you for the meal." Finríel was surprised. She turned around to face the girl who was wrapped up in a blanket, looking bashful.
"You are welcome," she replied with a small smile.
After dinner, she enlisted her new charge to clean the bowls and pots whilst she prepared another dose of the medicinal tea for her. Colour had crept back into the girl's cheeks and she looked healthier already. She still looked tired from her scuffle with the tree branches and after the tea was ready, Finríel gave her a good dose of it and made her lie back down on the sleeping furs. After a while, the girl's breathing became even and Finríel exhaled in relief. She watched the girl sleeping and wondered why she felt a connection to her. She kissed the girl on the forehead and sighed. She was beautiful as she slept. It was strange having company in her cave. How long has it been now that she had been alone?
The next day Finríel awoke to an empty cave. She sat up abruptly and felt the muscles in her arms hurt from carrying the girl back to her cave the day before. She stood up, ignoring the protests of her muscles and wondered where the girl had gone to. She stepped out her cave and found the girl bringing back wood. "For the fire," she explained in a small voice. Surprised, Finríel did not say a word and merely nodded. After a simple meal of stale bread, cheese and berries, where the girl did not say a word and made it a very uncomfortable situation for the both of them to be in, Finríel asked the girl if she wanted to go look for anyone or anything.
"My sister," she replied almost immediately and started to tear up. She nodded and asked the girl where her sister was. Through teary eyes the girl explained without meeting Finríel's gaze that she had gotten lost and she did not remember her name nor the name of the village but that it was burnt down by enemies of Rohan. She only remembered that the south of the village faced the forest. Finríel thought she knew. "Why don't we spend the day to find your sister?" she asked and gave a comforting smile. The girl nods and gives a small smile much to Finríel's delight.
Through the woods she led her: over moss covered stones and small singing streams, through thick green foliage and under the leafy boughs of the trees. Until they reached what Finríel suspected to be her village. The sight and smell of the burnt and destroyed village made Finríel fear for the girl as she could not see the girl giving a positive reaction. Indeed the girl began to sob as she watched her home fade into non-existence. She screamed for her sister but there was no reply. "There is no one here," Finríel said softly, more to herself than to the girl. The girl ran in the direction of the village but Finríel stopped her. "No. Don't do that, it will hurt you where it is hardest to heal." The girl became limp as Finríel enveloped her in an embrace. They stayed there for a while, Finríel standing with her arms around the distraught and distressed girl.
"My sister," she whimpered. The woman's face fell. How was she to tell the child that there was a great chance that she would not meet her sister again?
"I am afraid you are the sole survivor, dear girl. I do not see how those brutal beasts would have left any alive or uncaptured." The child burst into sobs at the loss of her home, her family.
"I want my sister, she promised to come to take me with her," the girl said as she wiped her teary eyes, her face turning red at her distress. "I have no home," she whined through pants and gasps as tears begin to stain Finríel's dress. "Dear heart, do not cry," she comforted, rubbing the girl's back. "I know you would much rather have your sister be with you, but I am afraid she will not be here. You can stay with me in the cave, if you want," she offered before she understood what it would mean. The girl looked up at her with teary and confused eyes. "I will love you and care for you as a daughter." Finríel wondered if she was herself today. For years she had lived a life of solitude with no complain and in haste she was willing to adopt a lost girl?
"I never had a mother," she said, evidently surprised that Finríel had offered her such a thing.
"You do now," Finríel said in a practical tone and smiled at her. The girl smiled back despite her tears and gave Finríel an unexpected hug. "Let us head back." The girl gave one last longing look at her village and took the hand Finríel offered with a mournful expression.
"I think you need a name," Finriel suggested light heartedly, trying to get the girl to smile again.
"I wish I remembered what it was," the girl added wistfully and sighed. Finríel saw that she was going to shed more tears and because she did not want the child's face to turn swollen and red again, she suggested, "You could always have a new name." The girl looked up at her in surprise. "You have a new home, new family, I think you are in need of a new name too." The girl looked serious but a while later she spoke up.
"I think you are right," she said in a voice that showed no emotion.
"Hmm," Finríel began, thinking of a name. "How about Ithílwyn?" she suggested.