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Chapter 1: Playing Pretend

"The enemy forces have attacked the west wall!"

"We can't let them get through!"

"We must defend the castle!"

War cries filled the quiet forest as I charged the enemy with my comrades. Reaching behind my back, I grabbed an invisible arrow from my quiver and, without missing a step, took aim and fired into the forest. "Direct hit!"

Turin raced ahead, slashing through the bushes with the great sword he'd forged himself from the sturdy branches of a mighty oak tree. It was as strong as steel and light as a feather. No enemy stood a chance against it.

"Die orc scum!" he cried while he continued to hack at the vegetation. I quickly came to his aid, firing arrows left and right and never missing a shot because I was the best markswoman in the land.

"We're surrounded!" I yelled as and Turin and I stood back-to-back, our narrow eyes scanning the hideous faces of our enemies. My heart was racing, hungrily feeding off the adrenaline pumping through my veins. There was no greater feeling than the thrill of battle.

"If today should be our last stand, Anariel," Turin said to me, "it has been a pleasure fighting alongside you."

"The pleasure was mine."

At last, we drew our weapons and prepared for what might've been our final battle. We'd fought many wars together during our eight years of life, and if it were to end now, at least we were going to die as heroes. Live by the sword, and die by the sword!

"Turin, Anariel," a meek voice called out, interrupting the intense, dramatic atmosphere. My little sister, Winnie, shuffled along in her baggy dress, dragging her twig of an axe behind her. Then, scrunching up her freckled nose, she whined, "Why do I always have to be the dwarf?"

Groaning, Turin and I dropped our fighting stances. Just when the fight was getting interesting, she had to go and ruin it with her complaining.

"Because you're the shortest," Turin answered, "and you're the only one who complains."

"But I don't like being a dwarf. Why can't I be an elf?"

"Because I'm already an elf," I said, crossing my arms over my chest, "and there can't be two elves."

"But you're always the elf ..."

"Would you rather be an orc?" Turin asked. A smirk grew across his face as he raised his sword and pointed it at her nose. "Then we'd get to hunt you."

"That's not funny, Turin!"

"Who said I was joking?"

"Stop it!" she cried.

Amidst their arguing, a soft melody filled my ears, catching my attention instantly. Hushing everyone around me, I strained my ears to better hear it. The song was beautiful, yet so sorrowful that it made me want to cry.

"What is that?" Turin asked.

Finally, I got a sense of the direction it was coming from. Motioning for everyone to follow, I took off through the woods. It was straight north, deep in the forest, further than we'd ever traveled, further than we were allowed to travel. The splotches of green blurred together as I ran faster and faster, hoping to catch it before it stopped. Gradually, the song started getting louder, clearer, and I could soon make out the voices singing this beautifully sad song just as the green was broken by a dazzling white light, the most incredible sight I'd ever seen.

They'd always fascinated me, the elves. I grew up hearing stories about them, so many stories, but seeing them in person held no comparison. Dressed in white, a long procession of elves walked down the dirt path that cut through the forest, some on horse and others on foot. It was so graceful, like a perfectly choreographed dance.

"Elves," Turin whispered. "Wow!"

"What are they doing?" Winnie asked.

"They're leaving," I realized, feeling my heart grow heavy. "They're traveling to the Undying Lands."

"I heard those are the last of the elves in Middle-earth," Turin explained. "They've grown tired of life here, so they're leaving for good."

The most beautiful beings to ever exist were leaving this land, destined never to return; and what an ugly world it would become in their absence. This was the first and last time I was ever going to see anything so perfect; just the thought brought tears to my eyes.

From atop her horse, an elven woman met my gaze and gave a soft, gentle smile. Gasping, I lowered my eyes, my face flushing with embarrassment. How it must've stung her eyes to be forced to look upon someone so common, so plain. But she was absolutely breathtaking, flawless; her grey eyes twinkled brighter than the stars in the sky.

"I wish they weren't leaving," I said with a frown.

"Speaking of leaving," Winnie interrupted, "we should go back to the village. Mother will be angry if we're late again."

"Let her be angry."

"Anariel, I want to go home!"

I turned toward her and growled, "So go home! Nobody's stopping you!"

Winnie lurched back, fists clenched in anger. "I'm going home!" she declared as she turned and ran back the way we came.

Turin and I stayed long enough to see the last of the elves disappear from view. They were traveling to the Grey Havens, where they would board the great white ships that would take them West. I'd never seen the ships before, but I'd heard them described many times. They sounded amazing.

"Should we follow?" Turin asked, raising his eyebrow.

He already knew my answer.

Laughing together, we raced to catch up to the procession. Our legs were tired and our feet hurt, but neither of us were complaining. This was one of the best days we'd ever had, and we couldn't help but fantasize about the wonderful adventure we were about to embark on.

"We should sneak onto one of the ships!" I suggested excitedly.

"Yes! It'll be our greatest adventure yet!"

But all our plans were put on hold when a tall brown horse blocked our path. Skidding to a stop so fast that Turin nearly smacked into me, I gazed fearfully at the rider, who wore plated armor adorned with the white stag of Erudin, a peaceful animal unless provoked, and we'd provoked this stag. This rider was a soldier of Erudin, one of Father's most trusted guards, in fact, and I knew we were in serious trouble if Father sent him of all his guards. The thick stench of betrayal lingered in the air. Oh, Winnie would pay for her treachery.

"You children should know better than to travel these woods," he said sternly, and I didn't even have time to come up with a good excuse before Turin and I were sent marching back through the forest. The soldier's constant grunts were our source of rhythm, which was occasionally interrupted by a disgusting spitting sound. The entire way there, Turin and I were devising a plan of escape, but we knew we'd never follow through with it. So while I would've loved to have clobbered the guard with a rock and stolen his horse, I wasn't prepared to face the consequences for that, and neither was Turin. Perhaps another day.

Erudin, it must be said, was a very small farming village just west of the Weather Hills, so small that it couldn't be found on any map. I'd always thought Father preferred it that way. After years of adventure, the knight desired peace and quiet above all else. He'd sailed all the great oceans of Arda, discovering new and exciting lands to claim for the king. He'd spent three long, cold years in the Northlands, battling trolls and giants. In the Southlands, he'd seen dragons, real dragons, soaring above the mountain peaks. He'd known such an exciting life in his youth, but now he was happiest sitting at his daughter's beside and retelling all his great adventures.

The Grey Keep atop the hill was gifted to him by the king himself as a reward for all his deeds. It was a modest castle, small and simply built, but it was very sturdy, having stood strong since its construction in the Second Age. Father cared little for luxury, and so he spent hardly anything on the castle's redesign, but that all changed once he married Mother, who came from a very wealthy family. After expanding the main keep to make her more comfortable, he added a garden to the inner courtyard, complete with a grand fountain worth 300 gold pieces. He then constructed a lavishly decorated guest house to accommodate her visiting family, but they never came, not once. Mother sometimes spent her days in there, alone, pretending to have a better life than was bid to her, but her fantasies ended when the debt collectors came; then she had only an empty house to weep in.

She was just leaving the guest house when we passed through the gatehouse. Dressed in a sullen black dress, she crossed the courtyard with all the grace a lady should possess, but her face was as cold as stone, and her eyes were like coal. She'd always been a hard woman, but she was worse when I was in trouble, and I was in trouble a lot.

"Explain yourselves," she ordered.

"Umm ..." I struggled to find the words.

"It's my fault," Turin answered suddenly. "It was my idea to go into the forest."

My jaw fell as I stared at Turin in disbelief. I couldn't let him take all the blame for something I'd contributed to, but before I could speak, Mother ordered me to go inside; then she told the guard to "deal with the boy accordingly," but I couldn't stay long enough to learn his exact fate.

"How many times have I told you not to see that boy?" Mother questioned as she walked behind me.

"Thirty-three," I readily answered.

"Then why won't you listen? That boy should remain in the stables where he belongs. He has no business entertaining sophisticated young ladies, especially no daughter of mine."

"Forgive me, Mother."

She sent me to my room then, the very same room I shared with my traitor of a sister, who was dressed in a fresh change of clothes and sitting lazily on her bed when I arrived. I threw her a glare just as a servant entered the room with a bucket of water and a rag.

"I'm going to kill you for this, Winnie," I said to my sister. "Turin is getting flogged because you can't keep your mouth shut!"

"What was I supposed to do? Mother asked me where you were. I cannot tell a lie."

"Not when it would better serve someone else," I bitterly spat back.

"Close your mouth," the servant said as she began to wipe my face with the warm, wet cloth.

"I hope you're happy now," I went on. "That's the last time I'm going to let you come with us, so don't even bother asking."

The servant gave me a light smack on my rear. "I said, keep your mouth closed, child!"

"I'm sorry, Anariel," Winnie said as she climbed off her bed. "Really, I am."

The servant muttered something under her breath as she grabbed the bucket and exited the room. Wiping my face with my sleeve, I ran and belly-flopped onto my bed, purposefully dirtying it because I knew that servant would later have to clean it. Perhaps I should've gone out to the stables and gathered some manure to wipe on the sheets and worsen her punishment.

"So you liked the elves?" Winnie asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I rose to a sitting position, a bright smile on my face. "Very much. I've never seen anything so incredible."

"Besides me," a voice called from outside as a grinning Turin climbed through our bedroom window and sat himself comfortably on the ledge.

"Turin!" I exclaimed, rushing over to him. "Are you all right? You know, you shouldn't have taken all the blame like that; I could have—"

"But I wanted to," he interrupted, and then he laughed. "Besides, I'm perfectly fine, as you can see. I think your father needs to set a better standard for his guards; they're not as strong as they look."

Sure, he was gloating now and flexing his scrawny biceps proudly, but I could see that his movements were slower, labored, and there was a cut on his lip that continued to bleed no matter how many times he licked it.

"So I was listening to some of the guards talking," Turin went on, "and they said Lord Beriadan of Archet was planning an attack on the Shire."

"Why?" I asked him. "Why attack hobbits?"

He shrugged. "Why not? Men have driven out nearly everyone else. Nobody is safe."

It was true. Father once said, since the death of King Elessar, men had become even more greedy and less respectful to the other inhabitants of the land. It was only a matter of time before there was nobody else left.

"This world is falling apart," Turin said with a sigh.

I nodded my head. "We'll have to save it then."

Turin laughed. "Yes, that's just the job for the Three Great Warriors of Erudin!" Then he looked over at my sister. "That is, if you still want to join us."

Winnie's face lit up. "I'd love to! ... but I don't want to be the dwarf again."

"Too bad," Turin said. "There's no other option."

"Why can't I be a wizard?"

"You're no wizard. You're more of a hobbit," and then Turin broke into a fit of giggles. "Winnie the Hobbit!"

"That's not funny!"

Since Turin wouldn't stop making fun of her, Winnie started crying, so he panicked and quickly climbed out the window just before a servant entered the room, demanding to know what all the fuss was about. Struggling to keep a straight face, I answered, "Nothing!" and once the servant left, I turned toward my sister, who was busy wiping away her tears. "You're such a baby."

"I am not."

"That's why you're the hobbit," I said as I leaned over the window ledge and watched Turin sprint across the courtyard to the stables, where he would remain until nightfall. Once my parents retired, he would climb back up to our room and sleep on the floor. I had to remember to prepare a bed for him, but not until after supper.

Life in Erudin wasn't always great, but we managed to make the best of it. What kept us going was the hope that we would escape one day and have the great adventure that we'd always dreamed of. Of course, that was never going to happen if Winnie continued to sabotage our plans. The traitor would also be dealt with come nightfall.

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