Chapter Four: Daughter of Arnor

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"We cannot offer a farm girl to a Prince of Gondor," - Aragorn

1st August/ Urui, T.A 3004 Duincar

Gandalf and the other rider came to a stop and dismounted before them. "I have never missed your birthday yet, Anberenien. But we were not expecting a welcoming party."

Anberenien ran up to him, dropping the flowers in her haste. Gandalf chuckled as she threw her arms around his waist and returned her embrace. Beren greeted Gandalf and the tall man who gave Anberenien a kind smile. "The last time I saw you, you were a babe in arms."

"This is Lord Elrond of Rivendell, the place where you were born, Little Sparrow," said Beren.

Anberenien looked up at him curiously. She had often heard about Elves from her kinfolk and knew that they were all descended from them. But she had never met an Elf in person before."Your ears look funny."

"You can't say that Anberenien, it's rude," cried Beren.

He tried to apologise on her behalf, but Elrond stopped him. He knelt down to her level. "Elves are similar to men in any, but also different. Our ears are just one of those differences." Anberenien giggled and reached out to touch his ears. They felt no different to her own, but had a slight point at the end. Elrond turned to Beren, "I always find with children, the simplest answer is always the best."

"Well, perhaps it is time we all returned to the village. These fireworks are not going to light themselves," suggested Gandalf.

"Fireworks Gandalf? I am not sure about that. Duincar will become a beacon for every Orc and Mountain Troll in the Trollshaws." said Beren.

"Fear not, these are merely sparklers, they do not go into the sky."

Everyone was delighted to see the unexpected guests on Beren and Anberenien's return. Aragorn and Halbarad warmly greeted them, and they quickly made space around the feasting table. Once the sun had set, it was time to watch Gandalf's fireworks.

The wizard drove several sticks into the ground and Beren put Anberenien up on his shoulders so that she could get a better look. When he was ready, Gandalf muttered something to his staff. A gasp went up as a small flame flickered on the top, yet the staff did not burn. Each time Gandalf lit a stick, sparks appeared, changing into a variety of shapes and colours. Anberenien and the other children burst into applause as the sparks changed into a variety of animals, flowers and trees before fading away. At the end of the fireworks, everyone clapped and cheered. Anberenien felt that this had been her best-ever birthday.

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The household and honoured guests assembled around the hearth of the Great Hall later that evening. Anberenien sat mesmerised on Beren's knee as he related the tale of the War of the Last Alliance. It was her favourite of the ancient tales her father told her on his visits home.

In his best storytelling voice, Beren recalled the tale of the great war of Elves and Men against the Dark Lord and his powerful ring. A siege that lasted seven years and how the High King of Men, Elendil and the High King of the Elves, Gil -Galad, were both slain defeating the Dark Lord. "Isilidur bravely used the shard of his father's sword, Narsil, to cut the ring from the Dark Lord's finger and he was defeated!"

Everyone present clapped at the end of the tale. "I carry that very sword, Anberenien. Would you like to see it?" said Aragorn.

Anberenien could not believe her ears."You have Narsil?" She had heard so much about this sword from her father's tales. But never dreamed of seeing it for real.

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