Dawnstar and Friend

Eleanor's POV

We actually stay in Arathorn's house for a few days though very few people actually saw us in that time. The twins stay with us and we find that they will be joining us and the Grey Company for a little while, largely to stay away from Thanduil I'm sure – maybe I am just being cynical.

This time, we are travelling on horses though we are warned that we will not always be on horses.

Much to mine and Ginny's amusement we are going north, near to the Shire.

The route we are taking is relatively safe and it is the first one any group of rangers take newbies on for their introduction tour.

They are quite surprised with how much we know; that is we have some knowledge of how to do things like basic fighting and cooking and camping.

Miriel is, of course, rather behind us because she was actually brought up a princess rather than a normal person and so hasn't had the fun of learning these things.

The entire thing was rather tiring, but it was amazingly interesting to learn all this stuff. This stuff being tracking, recognising when others are near, fighting as a group, how to survive in the wild, as well as a whole range of wood craft.

That patrol was out 3 lunar months (in the wilderness of Middle Earth it is easier to measure months by the moon and get a more precise time measurement when we get back to civilisation) before we came back to the village, shedding several members of the patrol at earlier villages.

We once again stayed with Arathorn and had the due pleasure of being there for the birth of the next King of Gondor. Miriel and I got to stop Arathorn from going mad and/or storming into the birthing room from which he had been evicted. Ginny, who knew way more than us on the subject of healing as well as having the advantage of Elrond's teaching, not to mention being human, was allowed in to observe the birth and help if necessary.

Contrary to what TV shows tell us, Gilraen was neither serene nor beautifully turned out after the birth, which was nearly a whole day long. She was exhausted, but proud at having given birth to a healthy boy-child who was red and wet, but had a shock of dark hair.

It actually took baby Aragorn (that is still very weird, I shall never get over the idea of a baby Strider/Aragorn/Estel/Elessar/etc) a few days to get cute. He was a very peaceful baby and one of the advantages of living in Arathorn's house was we got included in 'pass the baby' frequently.

I was immensely and stupidly proud that I happened to be holding him when he first properly opened his eyes.

Unfortunately we couldn't carry on this happy little game as we had to go off with another patrol for our next training trip. We were taken to another part of Eriador, which was marginally more dangerous than the previous place we had been taken.

We were with the same patrol group, all of whom had now been told who we were, partly because it was impossible for us to keep our heads covered all the time. Though they hadn't been too enthusiastic about our presence at first, they were coming to respect us I think.

This time we learnt how to hunt, the area we were going to being rich in game and so we could now get our own food. We also learnt how to gut and feather or skin all sorts of animals, not to mention which ones were worth eating.

As both Ginny and Miriel said at points when the men couldn't hear us: eww!

I didn't bother complaining, my scout group used to enjoy catching and killing animals and I had the fun of watching our leader do that frequently. I'm not sure Ginny appreciated my comments about really fresh produce.

They also taught us to recognise plants and herbs that could be used for cooking and healing and taught us how to collect them for later use.

Judging by the look on Ginny's face, she had been privately bemoaning the lack of modern medicine and the stuff she was used to; she was rather surprised to discover that she had been walking through a pharmacy while we were in Eriador.

One thing that amused us was that they had taught us to make tents out of foliage and stuff, but always insisted on helping us girls build ourselves a separate one.

I also suspect that we stopped by rivers and streams for the night rather more often than we would have if the group had been all male.

Actually that was quite funny, the guys always seemed to have accidently made the camps in such a way as to provide us girls a private bathing area.

Though they pretended to ignore the fact that we were girls, and thankfully did so when hunting, keeping watch and what little fighting there was, they were rather clearly still conscious of the fact.

It wasn't until near the end of our patrol that any real action happened.

There was a surprise attack of a small group of marauding Wargs with their Orc riders. We were ordered to the back of the group and though I could see the rebellious glint in Miriel's eyes, we did exactly that.

Only one Orc and Warg got through to us.

Ginny and Miriel dealt with the rider, attacking from either side and I got the wolf.

I jumped to the side as the beast ran at me and as it overshot, I grabbed some of its fur, swinging myself onto its back.

I held onto it like a monkey as I slit the rampaging beast's neck. Even though I could tell I had given a fatal injury through its shaggy fur, it took what felt like ages for the thing to die. When it did, I had to do some more interesting acrobatics to stop the beast trapping me underneath it.

When I finally got my bearings again, the other rangers were finishing off the party.

After the battle, the official healer in the party and Ginny insisted on checking me for injuries, and both were quite obviously surprised that I was not injured after the suicidal method I used of killing the Orc.

Apparently they don't like acrobatics when killing things and admittedly I should have known better, but the patrol leader praised us all the same for being successful, after all this was our first real battle and our first real kills. Plus we all survived virtually injury free and managed to be helpful.

After we had finished cleaning up, pulling the monsters onto a pile and burning them, and helping the injured, thankfully no one got killed; we left to carry on and mysteriously stopped at another of those waterside campsites so we girls could wash off the stink of the monsters.

That evening our patrol leader took us aside and explained that the reason we had been sent to the back was due to our lack of experience and limited skill, not because we were girls or important people.

After that none of us objected to orders that kept us away from the fighting, we realised that these guys had been on the front line, often for decades, and so they were much better than us.

A few days later, we returned to the villages of the Angle and to Arathorn's house. This time we had quite a surprise waiting for us.

There was an old deserted house part way out from Arathorn's house that some of the Dunedan repaired for us along with some basic furniture and stuff.

It is pretty basic, but it is our own house. We spend the next few months making the house our own.

It is our patrol group's period off, each group getting a few months off at home before having several rounds of patrols in various parts of Eriador, and the members of our patrol group help us personalise the place.

We pick up woodwork and things like that, a whole new region of practical stuff that are rather un-princess-y type things. We have the time of our life.

In the evenings we all make patchwork quilts with the help of the wives of our patrol group and they help us make it more homely as well.

It is nearly a year later when we eventually see our family again, the twins having left after our first patrol.

The twins and, surprisingly, Erestor are our visitors and they seem really quite surprised that we have our own pad as we have taken to calling it.

We are also amused by the fact that we put them up on straw pallets in the attic, like we were when we first came to join the rangers.

They are all rather shocked at the change in us since we joined the Grey Company.

While they are here we get regaled with the story of Thanduil's visit to Rivendell and the monster tantrum he threw when he found Miriel gone and no one would show him where she had gone to. They also relate how he blew up when he found the note we were unaware that Miriel had left him.

Apparently the last homely house has become rather boring without us. I resist telling them that it will soon be getting more interesting again; I am not allowed to tell them that we have now entered the final countdown though I think Ginny noticed me humming that tune rather often.

She might not know the dates like I do, but she does know that we are now on a timeline and some rather important things are not far off. It is a pity, I will miss Arathorn, we have grown close to both he and his wife, and of course his lovely little boy.

The elves stay a few days before returning to Rivendell, and we extract promises from them to send some of the things we left in Rivendell. We also send them on with letters to various people.

Just after they left, I realise that though I miss the people, I really quite surprisingly haven't missed the lovely dresses. That is probably because of the time it took to get dressed and the requirement for help.

Ginny's POV

Well, I got what I wanted. Life certainly is far more adventurous now than it ever has been before; even our year's travelling and you could hardly call a few months languishing around in various palaces an adventure, even if they were elfin palaces.

As we neared the Shire, I kept hoping to see some hobbits, but we didn't get that far – just the outlying villages.

The twins and the leaders of our patrol did all they could to keep our identities a secret, but we still had a few near misses.

Once, after a particularly rough day's ride, poor Miriel begged me to keep watch while she bathed in a nearby river. We hadn't been able to a have a proper all-over wash in nearly a week and a half; of course, Miriel is used to daily baths and regular massages.

Miriel was just towelling herself dry when one of the rangers, a weedy, nosey man called Tâldaugion, came up behind me,

"What are you doing here? You are on the next watch; why aren't you resting?" He tried peering around me; fortunately Miriel was crouched behind a thick clump of bushes. I looked into his cold grey eyes, trying not to appear guilty.

"I... I... I wanted a little time to myself, to think. Surely, you must appreciate that life is rather tough for a new recruit. So many new things to, you know, take in." Tâldaugion narrowed his eyes,

"I was watching and I saw two of you come this way, where is your friend?" I shrugged. Tâldaugion made to step around me; subconsciously I reached for my sword.

Tâldaugion! Nestaron What are you both doing here?" Our patrol leader was standing a few feet away in the shadow of the trees – he must have seen the whole thing.

He must have also seen Miriel and I slink away into the trees for he didn't wait for an answer, he simply ordered Tâldaugion to leave me to my thoughts and to get back to the camp.

We girls were extra careful after that.

Fortunately, that incident happened near the end of our patrol and Tâldaugion has just left the group as we passed through his village.

We're supposed to be having a rest before our next patrol, but Gilraen's baby decides to put in an appearance and I am allowed into the birthing room just in case I'm needed.

The midwives have me up by Gilraen's head, holding her hand, and talking to calm her down; apparently, the baby is being a bit awkward.

Awkward! The little watsit takes nearly a whole day to arrive; I can hardly feel my fingers. But this doesn't stop me from cutting the cord and handing the boy over to Gilraen.

Upon hearing the baby's cries Arathorn bursts into the room. His anxious face breaks into a wide smile when he sees Gilraen sitting up against her pillows, proudly holding the next King of Gondor.

The next few days pass in a hazy, but happy blur as all women in the neighbourhood pass in and out of Arathorn's house to gush over the baby Aragorn. The visits become so frequent that Arathorn gives up answering the door and eventually retreats to the safety of the nearest ale-house and the company of said women's husbands.

We're now out on our next patrol.

The whole of our group now knows about Miriel, Ellie, and I. They appeared surprised when we three let down our hoods, but not as surprised as I would have expected; apparently, we weren't as discreet as we'd thought.

We girls were rather amused by the fact that we stopped by a river that night, and again two nights after that, and again at the end of the week – we had already managed to have more baths in one week than we had in a month on our first patrol.

Initially, the rangers were a little reticent with us – I think they may have been slightly embarrassed at some of the antics that happened when we were last with them. However, the very fact that we had already been through a patrol with them without complaining, as well as our performance during the training sessions, may have given them cause to respect us more than they may have if we had revealed ourselves on our very first day.

However, that respect also stretched to us being shown how to properly kill, skin, and cook animals – there may come a time when we're separated from the patrol. Even so, I still detested doing it. The actual killing wasn't that bad, if done quickly and without fuss; it was the butchering of the carcass that turned my stomach.

The lukewarm blood would ooze over our hands and congeal where it lay; and bits of fat, muscle, and skin would get under our nails. After a long hunt or patrol I would be quite hungry, but the food preparation would more often than not leave me feeling queasy and without appetite. I wish Ellie didn't have such a flippant sense of humour though; her comment about really fresh produce did not go down well.

Like the last patrol, this second has been rather uneventful. If I'm honest it's got a bit samey, although, we have been taught a whole heap of things about the different plants and herbs that could be used for healing; and not just for healing either. Some help to make a good flavouring for meat as well as being medicinal.

I'm actually quite surprised to find that we're moving through a pharmacy as well as a larder.

We do see proper 'action' at the end of our patrol; we have the pleasure of being attacked by a small band of Orcs and their Wargs.

When we hear the attack, Miriel draws her bow while Ellie and I both draw our swords, but we're ordered to the back of the group. How dare they! Haven't we proved countless times that we're just as good as the men?

However (not that I'll admit this), having seen the ferocity of the first wave of Orcs, I don't think I'll be complaining about women's rights any more.

In the end, only one rider and his beast get through to us. While Ellie attacks the Warg, Miriel and I take on the Orc.

He's swinging a huge, evil-looking sword in front of him so Miriel looses two arrows in quick succession: one through his wrist and one into his chest. But his armour is too thick and he still manages to swing his sword with his left hand.

On one of his swings, he manages to cut me straight across my right forearm. Fortunately, the wound is not that deep and my aim is true; I just about manage to slice his wrist open so that the hand now dangles off a thin bit of sinew.

Miriel takes her chance and hurls her dagger deep into the side of his neck. Like in some of those war films, the Orc staggers slightly before falling on to his back and breathing his last.

Miriel then rushes over to me, gently taking my arm. She calls the healer, but he is almost out of his mind with all the injured he has to attend, so Miriel rubs the balm he gives her into the wound (the smell reminds me a little of Dettol) and then bandages it herself.

We then join the healer in checking over Ellie who had apparently been quite a gymnast when fighting the Warg. Surprisingly she's not hurt at all; I'm the only one with any kind of injury.

Later on when we were all clean again (us girls anyway), our leader took us aside and explained that us being sent to the back had nothing to do with our gender or our 'importance', simply our relative inexperience. Well, if my wound scars, I'll at least be able to prove my participation in a fight. Somehow, I don't think Ada will see it in quite the same light.

We return to our village to find quite a surprise waiting for us.

Arathorn had found an old house not far from his own home and some of the Dunedan had helped to repair it for us. It may be basic and not a patch on Rivendell, but it's our own. I suppose it must the dream of most people to own their own home and we're at a double advantage – no mortgage!

During the day we decorate the house as well as filling it with some of our own handmade furniture. During the evenings when we're pining for more womanly company, we sew quilts and rugs with the help of local wives.

We also lose no time in inviting Gilraen over; naturally as Aragorn is still only a few months old, he's brought along as well and this immediately causes any remaining male in the house to vacate it knowing that all they'll hear for the rest of the evening is baby-talk.

Ada, Elladan, and Elrohir are visiting us.

The look on Ada's face when I proudly exhibited my scar from our run-in with the Orc – he looked like a fish with his popping eyes and mouth opening and closing in a perfect 'o' shape. He went storming off to Arathorn, but came back looking suitably chastened – well, he can hardly expect me to go on patrol with the Dunedan and come out the other side still looking like a porcelain doll.

All in all, I'm rather pleased when the elves return to Rivendell. As much as I love them, I can't help shaking off the feeling that the life I have now is more suited to me. I mean the travel and the adventure; who else gets to experience this all so intensely and with the added spice of life-threatening situations?