Maiden of Gondor

I am Inwë Arcamenel. I am not elven, but that does not and will not hinder me from going by the name bestowed on me by Legolas, the close friend of King Elessar. It was not always as peaceful as it is now, here in the White City. We have been richly blessed by the just reign of the king. He has brought the world of men great prosperity. I am happy… not only because of this peace but also because I will soon be married. My betrothed, Boromir, son of Denethor, steward of Gondor and of the king, found me far off on the plain, and brought me here. My life since has been long. My story was not always a happy one, but my life now is worth the wait. My story is long and often unhappy, but I will tell it to you in whole, from the time I was found on the plane until now. Through my words, learn. Learn what it is to be a maiden of Gondor. Learn what it is to be strong.

I do not remember where I was born. My first memories were of myself and my cousin, Finduilas Arnatuilë, wandering through the lands of the kingdom of Gondor. We were homeless, our families killed long before by orcs, our homes destroyed. We slept where we found shelter, gathered food where we found it. Our lives were simple, but we became lonely. Yet we, two young girls, refused to associate with any other rational creatures. Being outcasts, we became suspicious of all, orc and human alike. It was not until the day we were found and brought to Minas Tirith that we rejoined society. That is where I will begin my story.

The winds were harsh as they tore across the grassy planes. Inwë and Finduilas crouched behind an unusually tall clump of grass as a group of men in the distance broke camp. The girls fidgeted and whispered freely together as they watched the group. They had not eaten for two days, and this camp offered the possibility of a feast. Like so many hunting parties, these men would leave behind countless pieces of discarded bread, bones with half of the meat still on them, as well as an assortment of fruits and vegetables. Some of them may be partially rotten, but for the girls it was worth it. Hunger and malnutrition were their constant companions, an any escape was welcome.

Food would not be the only thing they would find in the deserted campsite. Discarded tools would be cast aside when they were broken - tolls that would be easy for Inwë to mend. She had become quite skilled in hunting, skinning, building and so on, such skills that any boy would have. Finduilas looked longingly towards the blankets that some of the men were using to roll up their belongings into packs. She and her cousin had spent many nights in the cold, and the blankets were thick and heavy. Some were woven wool, while others consisted of hides. Such materials would block out the wind and biting cold of any night. Her stomach quivered as a young pup snagged a blanket playfully, and dashed off with it. Another young dog followed, eager to wrestle and fight. Before any of the men could rescue the blanket, it was torn nearly in two. The larger of the dogs pulled the blanket away and ran, waving it in an expression of pure joy, towards the girls.

"Curse you pups! You'll get me into trouble if you continue to act up." A boy of about fourteen years caught both by the collars and pulled them back to the camp to tie them to his horse. The blanket was left where it was dropped. It's owner looked frustrated, while others laughed. His face seemed to brighten slightly as the boy promised to buy him a new one when they returned home.

"A blanket! It's torn nearly in two but I can fix it!" Finduilas became almost uncontrollably excited.

"Calm yourself, we can't risk being seen. The dogs nearly gave us away, I don't want a repeat." Inwë chided a bit harshly. She remembered stories of wandering men, rangers they were called, that would take advantage of young girls that they found alone. She would not give these the opportunity to harm herself or her cousin.

The scent of food became almost unbearable. In the distance they could see bacon being fried and apples roasted. Inwë began to drool as her stomach growled. She had not had a roasted apple in so long. There was sure to be some coals left when the men went on their way. She, too began to quiver as Finduilas looked at her with smiling eyes. At that moment, the wind shifted directions; it now blew from the girls' backs, towards the camp. Inwë's stomach lurched as she thought of the dogs. They were sure to detect their scent!

Sure enough, an older dog sensed them and wandered away from his master. He stopped a few feet away from the girls, and began sniffing the air wildly, then barked. No one seemed to pay any heed, so the dog began fussing even more. He edged forward a few feet, and came almost face to face with Findulias. Another boy, about 17 years of age, came to see what was the trouble. By now, breakfast was over and the other men were cleaning and packing their dishes. When he was almost on top of them, the boy stopped short and stared in a shocked manner. Inwë wanted to scream and run, but was frozen in place. Her cousin pressed against her side. The boy's eyes softened when he saw their fear, and he smiled gently.

"I won't hurt you, neither will my companions. You may come out if you wish, we would be happy to welcome you to our party." Inwë's eyes widened slightly.

"We don't wish to… join you. We have no reason to trust you." She replied. The boy only smiled more, and called to one of the men.

"Here, bring food and water, there are children here who look as though they haven't eaten in weeks." He turned back to the girls. "I promise that we will not harm you. I am Boromir, son of Denethor. My companions and I have traveled from Minas Tirith to hunt. We are on our way home now." An older man placed a bag of food and a container of water before the clump of grass. Boromir backed away a few feet as he returned to the camp. "Eat," He urged, "you looked famished." Before Inwë could stop her, Findulias left her side and dug into the bag.

"Inwë, come." She gestured for her cousin to follow her. Cautiously, she did, never taking her eyes off of the boy.

"You don't have a home, do you?" He asked. Findulias shook her head.

"We've been homeless for as long as we can remember." Inwë nudged her. With her eyes, Inwë urged Findulias not to say any more about themselves.

"Come to Minas Tirith. My parents we not blessed with the gift of daughters, my only female cousins live far away. Your presence would bring joy to our home."

"Thank you," replied Inwë coldly, "But we have no use for such an offer."

"I like him, I want to go." Findulias said. "Why won't you trust him?"

"Because -" Inwë was cut off by Boromir.

"Begging your pardon miss, but you seem to be in great need of care. You haven't eaten in a long while, have you? My family would gladly provide for you."

"And what would your family demand in return? Some price that we could not repay?" Inwë snapped.

"The only payment required would be the joy of having daughters and sisters." Inwë's eyes almost lost the cold hardness as Findulias leaned against her. She looked down at her cousin.

"Very well. But I warn you, we are not helpless. Should you attempt to harm us, you will loose your life." Boromir's face strained as he tried to hide his amusement.

"I am warned, and again I promise that no harm will come to you. Come, you will ride my horse together, I will lead you." He stood, called to the dog, and carried the sack and water bottle back to their owner. The girls rose and followed.

"Thank you..." Findulias whispered.