Chapter 2
"Ellathorn! Will you please get down from there?" The young girl groaned. The young girl was the best friend of Ellathorn, Denewyn Minathora.
"You should come up here. You can see everything!" Ellathorn cried from the treetops as she swung from branch to branch.
"What would your mother think?" Denewyn cried in another desperate attempt.
"Oh no, my mother!" Ellathorn realized what trouble she would be in if her mother were to see her now. Her mother had always been over protective of her. She never allowed her to do anything even slightly dangerous. Today she had been sent by her mother to deliver some herbs to the Houses of Healing. Now she had no recollection of where she had left the herbs. She quickly climbed down to where Denewyn was standing on the ground. On the way down she lost her balance and fell the last three or four feet to the ground where she landed on her hands and knees. She felt a sharp pain come from her left shin. She wiped away the grass and examined it. There was a small gash just below her left kneecap, and blood was slowly trickling out. She hastily wiped it away and stood up.
"We were supposed to be home by now. My father's going to kill me," Denewyn was always afraid of her father's punishments. Her father was a strict man. He was often too busy to even care for his children. Her father was Denethor son of Ecthelion, the steward of Gondor. Denewyn had two brothers, Boromir, and Faramir. Her brother, Boromir, was a favorite of her fathers. He was also very strict, and never broke any of their father's rules. Faramir, on the other hand, always seemed to find himself in trouble. Denewyn loved her little brother, Faramir, very much.
"Come on, let's bring these to the healers," Ellathorn said as she brushed herself off, and picked up the kettle that was resting at the foot of the tree.
Together they skipped off to the Houses of Healing. The girls had been best friends for many years, even though their families despised each other. Ellathorn's father was the rightful king of Gondor, and Denewyn's father knew that Arathorn was the only one with the power to steal his thrown. Yet the girls managed to be secret friends.
Both girls were no older than twelve years. Ellathorn was a little shorter than Denewyn, but not by much. She had waist length wavy brown hair that her mother had pulled back into a single braid. Ellathorn seemed to find it impossible to stay clean. She was a very attractive young lady if it weren't for the layer of dirt always covering her beautiful face. She possessed a certain beauty that could not be pin pointed, or explained; it seemed as though she had a definite glow about her. It seems as if it was originating in her deep green eyes that always shown bright, even through the mask of mud.
Denewyn Minathora on the other hand, was a clean, proper, young lady. She was also quite pretty, but it was more of a natural beauty. She had shoulder length auburn hair that always seemed to be neat and kempt. She had soft brown eyes that gave her the appearance of a kind and friendly person.
The sweet, innocent-looking, little girls had caused enough trouble for their time, but always managed to come up with an excuse.
"What shall we tell our parents happened this time?" Denewyn asked Ellathorn as though she always had an answer.
"We'll say we got lost on our way," she answered as though the answer were obvious.
"We used that one last time," Denewyn reminded her.
"You shall think of something, I'm sure, to tell your father. I hope he isn't mad," Ellathorn added.
"I should hope so," Denewyn agreed. "I shall see you tomorrow then; I best be home before nightfall."
They both said their good-byes and set off in separate directions.
The two girls had been through many years together, and faced many challenges of growing up that they couldn't have faced on their own. And over the next years to come they faced many more challenges together until they grew to be mature young ladies.
Although the girls rarely got a chance to see each other any more, they still remained loyal friends. As Denewyn grew older much more was expected of her at home. Especially after her mother had died.
As a child Denewyn rarely had any opportunity to see her mother. Her mother was a busy woman. She had not the time to be looking after little children. Denewyn and her brothers were raised by a house nurse. It had upset Denewyn that her mother did not care more for her. The few opportunities that the girl had to see her mother were not at all satisfying. The woman had no tolerance for the energetic child.
As Denewyn grew older she began to see her mother less and less. Until one day when she discovered that her mother was ill. Denewyn was no older than ten when it happened. She went every day to the Houses of Healing to visit the women who never really understood the desperate child. At the Houses of Healing Denewyn met a young girl named Ellathorn. Ellathorn's mother was preparing to be a healer there. Denewyn and Ellathorn became the best of friends. Ellathorn was there to comfort Denewyn, even on the dreadful day when news came that Denwyn's mother had passed away. It took a while for Denewyn's grief to fade, but Ellathorn stood by her the entire time.
After the death of her mother, Denewyn's responsibilities increased immensely. She rarely had time for even her best friend anymore.
But today was special. It was Ellathorn's birthday. Denewyn would never forget this special day. She decided to dedicate the whole day to her old friend.
Ellathorn had woken up particularly early that special morning for the excitement made it quite difficult to sleep any longer. Her mother and father were already awake. Ellathorn could hear their whispers seeping through the cracks of her chamber door. They seemed as though they were trying desperately to keep something from their daughter. What could it be? Ellathorn just shrugged it off figuring it was a special birthday surprise. She slowly dressed herself into her best attire. She sat in front of the mirror trying frantically to fix her hair. As soon as she felt that she looked presentable she slowly opened the door. The very moment that her parents noticed her presence their whispering ceased.
"Good morning, Mother, Father," Ellathorn said as she gave a little curtsy.
"You are up unusually early this morning, Daughter," Arathorn teased the girl.
"Oh Father, I was much too excited for sleep," Ellathorn said as she danced around the room. "For I know that you must remember what day it is."
"Could it be? Your birthday already."
"Of course it is!"
"You must be starving, Ellathorn, wash up and I will make you some breakfast," Her mother said as she arose from the table, and glanced quickly at her husband as if to say 'we will finish this conversation later.'
Together the family ate their breakfast of fresh eggs, sausages, and hash, in silence.
"May I please be excused?" Ellathorn asked when she had eaten her fill.
"Yes you may," Her mother excused her. "I suppose you and Denewyn have something planned for the day? Do make sure that you are home for dinner. Your father and I..." she motioned towards Arathorn, "...we have something we must tell you."
Ellathorn looked suspiciously from her father to her mother. Something was going on, whether it was good or bad she had no guess. She slowly stood up, and walked towards the door. She stole one more quick glance back at her parents before pushing the door open and exiting the room.
She walked quickly to where her and Denewyn had planned to meet. Denewyn was nowhere in sight. Ellathorn sat down on a rock to wait. She haphazardly picked up a stick and began scribbling in the sand. She figured she must've been early for Denewyn was never late. She remained there for what seemed to be a quarter of an hour until she figured that something must've been wrong. She walked towards the citadel where Denewyn lived with her family. She walked slowly to make sure not to miss Denewyn on her way. She did not run into Denewyn as she half expected, but she did run into someone else.
"Faramir?" Ellathorn was quite surprised to see him out wandering in the woods.
"Ellathorn, I've been looking for you. It's Denewyn. She's sick," Faramir said. He seemed to be out of breath.
"Denewyn's sick?" Ellathorn gasped. Ellathorn turned and sprinted in the direction of the Houses of Healing with Faramir following not too far behind.
Ellathorn and Faramir reached the Houses just minutes later, out of breath, hearts pumping in their chests. "She's over there," Faramir panted as he pointed to a bed near the window. There were many people gathered around her bed. Some of them were friends; the others were healers.
Ellathorn walked slowly towards the bed. She wondered if something was seriously wrong. As she walked up many of the gathered people stepped backward making room for her to look upon the patient. She quickly recognized the young man who was leaning over Denewyn to be her brother, Boromir. Denewyn seemed to be asleep. Ellathorn looked at Boromir then back at Denewyn. Denewyn seemed to stir in her solitude. Her eyes seemed to flicker open for a split second. And again. Her eyes were adjusting to the light, which was pouring in from the open window. Sudden commotion came over the crowd of people.
"All right, everyone, if you will please just take a step back. Give her some space. If you can all just please wait over there," One of the healers said trying to direct the people. Many of the people left the House, others waited by the door.
"You too miss. I'd appreciate it if you backed off," the healer spoke to Ellathorn.
"You don't understand," Ellathorn tried to explain. The healer didn't want to hear it. She firmly grabbed Ellathorn by the arm.
"Wait! She's a friend," It was Boromir. He looked up at the healer, but only taking his eyes off of his sister for a second. The lady took her hands off of Ellathorn. She stepped closer to where Denewyn lay.
Boromir stood up. He walked over to where Faramir stood waiting.
Denewyn let out a moan, "Ellathorn?"
"Yes it's me. How are you feeling?" Ellathorn stepped even closer taking Denewyn's hand in hers.
"Happy birthday," Denewyn tried to say, but it ended up coming out as more of a groan.
Ellathorn let out a short, forced laugh, "It isn't very happy now is it?"
"I didn't mean to ruin your birthday."
"Don't be silly. It's not ruined," Ellathorn convinced her friend. "We're still together, aren't we?"
"Ellathorn?" Denewyn gasped again.
"Yes?"
"Please don't leave me."
"I won't, Denewyn, I won't."
Denewyn seemed to drift back to sleep. Ellathorn remained at her side, stroking her hand. Faramir walked over to her.
"We found her last night. She was weeping and moaning. She was hardly conscious. She felt clammy so we brought her to the healers. She's been complaining about a pain in her stomach," Boromir explained to Ellathorn.
Ellathorn looked up at him. She did not know what to say. She looked back down and Denewyn. And so she remained for the rest of the day. Denewyn would wake up periodically, and Ellathorn would talk to her and rub her head until she would drift off again.
It was nearly dusk before Denewyn finally came around again. Ellathorn had drifted off to sleep herself.
"Ellathorn?" Denewyn called trying to wake her from her sleep.
"Denewyn! Sorry, I must've drifted off. How are you feeling?" Ellathorn asked as she wiped the puddle of drool from the side of her face.
"Terrible! I had something really special planned for your birthday. Now it's ruined," Denewyn felt miserable.
"I told you already I don't care, as long as you get better," Ellathorn explained again. "Anyways, there will be plenty more birthdays. Think of how many we have already spent together."
"You're right. Together we must've celebrated..." Denewyn paused as though she was pondering something. "Some friend I am. We've been friends as long as I can remember, but for the life of me I cannot recall how old you are turning today. You must be seventeen."
Ellathorn shook her head.
"Eighteen?" Ellathorn shook her head again. "You can't be older than me. You must be sixteen then."
Ellathorn just laughed to herself, "No."
"I give up," Denewyn was quite puzzled that Ellathorn could be so much older than her, but she had no idea.
"Try thirty one."
"Thirty one! No way are you that old!" Denewyn knew that Ellathorn must have been joking. "But you look no older than seventeen."
"It's the honest truth. Haven't you wondered why I never told you how old I was before? It was because I didn't think that you would understand," Ellathorn smiled at her confused friend. "My father is a part of the Dunedain. He is an Elessar. I am an Elessar. We are blessed with long life," Ellathorn explained.
Denewyn just stared at her friend in a state of disbelief.
Ellathorn had always looked and acted very young for her age. Especially when she was just an infant. The members of the Dunedain outlived all other races of men. Many of them lived into their two hundreds. So you see, Ellathorn was no older than Denewyn at heart.
Denewyn was still staring at her friend in amazement when the door to the house flew open. Boromir had just walked in. At that moment Ellathorn realized that the sun had already set. Her mother had told her to be home by dinner. They would've eaten hours ago.
"Oh no! I need to go!" Ellathorn said as she hastily stood up and ran towards the door.
"You cannot walk home alone in the dark. It is not safe. I will take you," Boromir offered.
Ellathorn did not argue. She walked towards the door. She turned back and gave Denewyn a quick smile. She turned and walked outside. Boromir followed right behind.