The Exile's Daughter

A Fair Stronghold

Mallor turned beetroot red as he saw me but bowed his head politely to each of us. Gandalf beamed at the young man, who looked delighted to see the wizard among us. I pretended not to notice his embarrassment when I looked at him and smiled. "Who's Raina?" I asked.

"She is my sister", Mallor explained, "and she's 12". He said this as if he considered it an unsavoury fact. I laughed.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes" Mallor sighed. "12 is a bad age for a girl".

"You were a horrible 12-year-old." Legolas interjected conversationally, an irritating smirk on his face. Mallor rolled his eyes at me as Firiel and Tar laughed. I grinned back.

"Annoying, isn't he?"

"I thought my younger siblings were bad." Mallor laughed.

Legolas pushed me playfully away and dodged as I aimed at punch at his arm. Mallor ran out of range before Legolas could tease him, but the elf only laughed. I smiled to see him relaxed. All the weeks we had travelled, he'd seemed most unlike his usual self.

We walked on for a few minutes, climbing a large hill. "Nesseldë!" Firiel stopped and called to me, holding out her arm as we neared the top. Legolas took Calanon's reigns and I joined her at the front. "You should have a good view the first time you see our home." I smiled at her as we crested the steep hill, but she only walked faster, stopping right at the top.

We were standing at the edge of a steep valley, completely hidden from sight to the wider world by the towering hills around it. To our right, a river shone clear and bright, heading down through lush green grass, a small copse of trees and a cluster of moss strewn boulders. The wind was high standing above the valley, but down below only a soft breeze tickled the treetops. There was no path or even any discernible tracks leading downwards. The valley looked completely untouched; a fair place unaffected by the influence of Illuvatar's children.

"It is beautiful", I whispered. Firiel smiled at me.

"Do you see any dwellings?" I shook my head and she nodded approvingly, leading me on down the steep sides of the valley. "This used to be the site of a great city when our people were powerful, but now it is usually filled only with women and children. It is rather a squeeze at the moment, I'm afraid, since the men are all home."

I couldn't imagine the spacious valley being anything close to crowded, but perhaps they had not enough places to house all of their people. "We must count our blessings that they are here." Aragorn said grimly, catching up with us and walking on my other side. He sighed across at Firiel "We are entering a difficult time, my friend."

"And we will meet it." Firiel said, raising her head proudly. Her cares could be seen in the lines on her forehead, the stern wrinkles around her mouth, but nonetheless she was fair. Her eyes were as green as the trees we were approaching, her cheekbones proud and high, and her red hair was softly waved. 

At last, we were at the bottom, in the midst of the trees, which had a friendly, homely sort of feel to them. I brushed my hand against the bark. Elves were welcome in these woods; Legolas was looking around contentedly and I knew that he could sense their joy at our presence.

"Na vedui" (S: at last), I heard Aragorn sigh beside me. Gandalf smiled at him. On the other side of the woods stood a tiny settlement. Ten wooden cabins were scattered in a wide semicircle, a fire pit in the middle. One hut, larger than the others, sat on the other side of the fire. A few children played, adults chopped food or firewood, some darned cloaks and tunics.

"What if the enemy finds you?" The huts of the Dúnedain were far more permanent than I had expected from these lonely wanderers.

"We move", explained Aragorn, striding over to the hut nearest the trees. "See how the wood fits together? It can be assembled and pulled down quickly. If we have the time before an enemy closes in, we take down the huts and move the wood somewhere safe until we can find a safer place to rebuild them."