Anariel of Erudin: Valmoria's Wrath | Lord of the Rings

3. The Long Walk

The sun rose in a cloudless sky, the day of the wedding had arrived, and Lord Beinion was feeling better than ever. One of the servants came to deliver the happy news herself. As soon as she left, I ran to the window and seriously contemplated taking the long jump. Only with my body strewn across the ground would I be freed from this nightmare, but I lacked the courage to end my own life, so I just sat by the window, gazing down at the orchard with a sense of longing, for it was within my family's orchard that I first met Turin almost ten years ago. I could still remember the day perfectly.

I was six then, rambunctious and highly opinionated, and Father had just finished telling me the story of the Fellowship of the Ring. It was the first time I'd ever heard of men, hobbits, dwarves, and elves working together. The elf in the story quickly became my favorite, and although Father never provided a physical description, I knew exactly what he looked like: tall and fair, like all elves, with long, dark hair and eyes the color of the sky before a storm. When I'd asked what happened to that elf, Father said he wasn't certain, but he probably left for the Undying Lands like all the other elves. That was when I experienced my first real moment of heartbreak.

Regardless, his stories had a huge impact on me. I couldn't count the number of days I spent hiding from the servants, pretending they were child-eating orcs who'd come to take me away from my parents. It was during one of these episodes that I ran into the orchard because the orcs were chasing after me yet again. To defend myself, I began snatching apples from the trees and chucking them at my attackers.

"Lady Anariel, please stop!"

"Those apples haven't yet ripened!"

"The better to kill you with!" I cried, throwing a green apple that the fat orc just barely managed to dodge.

Thirteen apples later, the orcs abandoned their attack and returned to the keep. At last, I was alone—or so I thought. Behind me, I could hear a loud munching sound, and my immediate thought was that a hungry orc was feasting on one of the servants, probably the fat one because she was the slowest. But it would be coming for me next! I took a step back just as something thudded against the ground—a dead body perhaps—and then, from beneath a tree, a half-bitten apple rolled out.

An apple-eating orc, I realized. They're the most dangerous kind!

A hand suddenly shot out from beneath the tree—a human hand—and snatched the apple. I'd been duped! This was no orc, just a hungry thief. As the young lady of the house, it was my job to alert the guards when such an incident occurred, but my mind was so consumed by action and adventure that I decided I was going to handle him myself.

Holding my head high, chest puffed out just as the guards did when in Father's presence, I marched forward to the scene of the crime. The thief was still in the area, stuffing his face with apples from our trees. He was smaller than I thought he'd be, scrawnier too; in fact, he looked no older than I was.

"You, thief, these trees belong to Lord Authion."

The boy just stared at me with a blank expression as he took another bite of his apple, chewed, and swallowed. I was being mocked in my own orchard by a petty thief!

My eyes widened. "I said, you are stealing from my father, Lord Authion of Erudin. As a lady of this house, I demand you stop this at once!"

He took yet another bite, chewing louder than necessary. Enraged, I screamed and tackled him to the ground, and all that coward of a thief could do was flail around and scream for me to get off him, but I wasn't finished just yet. Not only had he stolen from my family, but he'd also insulted me, and that was a crime punishable by death.