A/N: I am so sorry that this took so long getting up, but my family just moved. I hope you like it.

The thunder that rang from the sky was hardly loud enough to drown the screaming of a newborn babe. The midwife chuckled as she wiped the blood and fetal matter from the new baby girl. "Her lungs are healthy enough, I can tell you that much. Are you well m'lady Mirwen?"

"I am well enough. Can I hold her now?" Mirwen Tirrsleth smiled, her small pink lips drawing back from her perfectly straight teeth. "The heir to the Tirrsleth Clan: Itarheame. May you always be loyal, my little one."

Thunder roared and lightning flashed as mother gave her daughter that blessing. Oh, she had no idea just how loyal her daughter could be.

Nineteen years and eleven months after that blessing was given, Itarheame had grown into a strong, vibrant, and hard-headed young woman. At a year away from womanhood she stood six feet tall, her body etched with the muscles of a swordswoman. Her long hair was a dark brown, with highlights made by the sun. Her eyes were blue; six different shades all bursting from her pupil like a star had exploded only to be contained by a thin ring of pure sapphire.

The young woman was the heiress to the most powerful clan of the Dunedain. How had they become so powerful? Ask any one of them and they will answer the same way: We are a matriarch. Women ruled the Tirrsleth, and they left no room for error.

Itarheame, called Itar by most people and Rhea by her family, had already seen three battles and seven skirmishes by the time she was nineteen years and eleven months old. She was experienced, as much as one so young could be, and she was a leader. Her people cheered when she rode back in, having helped some village in an attack from orcs. They knew that she would make a good leader, or at least they hoped so.

Exactly one month before she was to turn twenty and be a woman, Itar found herself walking through a starry glade in Imladris. She was the Tirrsleth's representative to witness the coming of age of Isildur's heir. She had not been impressed by the man she was supposed to swear undying loyalty to. He was a runt with no leadership experience. How was he supposed to lead the Dunedain?

Itar had seen the man, called Estel by the Elves though his name was Aragorn, but she had not really met him. It would be wrong to pass judgment on him so soon. So she wandered the starry glade, watching the sky instead of where she was going. From her lips fell the Lay of Luthien, whom she greatly admired yet ridiculed. How could she give up unending life for a man who would be parted with her through death? Was she a fool?

The words of Luthien came to life through Rhea's voice, and half-heartedly she wished there was someone to sing the part of Beren. Then, as though Eru was mocking her, a voice answered her song. She could not see the man, and the song had almost come to an end, so she let it be and finished singing. "Who answered Luthien's call?" She asked, her voice quiet.

"One who admires what she and Beren did. It is Aragorn. You have a pleasant voice Itarheame."

"You do as well my lord. Isn't it a little dangerous for you to wander off on your own?"

"I can hold my own as you can. Have you a reason to think otherwise?" Aragorn, it seemed was in a tree. He landed smoothly when she jumped down, and was a few feet away from Rhea.

"You have been coddled by the Elves my lord, and have not seen battle. That would be the only reason." Her chin level and her gaze defiant, Rhea met Aragorn's eyes.

"I have not seen battle that is true. Yet I have not been wholly coddled, I was taught to fight. The Elves are warriors, gentle lady."

"I am neither gentle nor a lady, something you would do well to learn about all the Tirrsleth. We are warriors, as much as men and as much as Elves. Perhaps we shall duel sometime, and see how coddled you were. Farewell my lord." And Itar passed into the trees, leaving her overlord speechless.