y history is not one of adventure, nor of excitement. You will hear the tales
of other people who have lived rich lives and have traveled to the black gates
of Mordor and back. I am telling you now, this is not one of them. Truth be told,
this is probably one of the more boring stories you may hear in Minas Tirith,
but it is my tale nonetheless, and if asked, I will tell it.
was born to a farmer and a handmaiden (well, hand-matron, to be exact.
Mother is always particular about that…) named Gorlim and Eilinel. Thankfully,
their fate turned out much happier than their namesakes did. Well, they were
married in the autumn, when the falling red leaves made a colourful shower
for their wedding. About a year later, my older brother, Sulum was born. The
name meant ‘mast’ in Adunaic, and as he became quite tall and thin,
the name fit. Three or so years later, I was born, and was supposed to be named
Katha-Arun (roughly translated ‘king of all’; guess who was crowned
when I was born?). Both Mother and Father ended up meshing the words together
to become Catherine, and I have been called so ever since. When I was conceived,
the War of the Ring was raging, and my father was called to arms at the last
minute when the Elessar traveled through the paths of the Dead. My mother thanks
Eru every day that he didn’t travel to Mordor, and freed Osgilliath instead.
He returned home after the coronation, and only had a few scratches and a nasty
looking scar. When I was seven, the youngest child, Mik, came into the world.
The birth was difficult, and the midwife used all of her knowledge to save
both mother and child. Mik survived, but Mother was unable to have any more
children after that.
e quickly became known everywhere as a mischievous little boy, and could be
found chasing the chickens into hysteria and cleaning out the stables much
too late than was good for the animals. (This lead to a case of foot rot for
his favorite calf, and the stalls were much cleaner from then on.) Sulum became
immersed in his chores, and adored the few h0rses we had for emergency travel
and usual farm chores. If you couldn’t find him, he was usually outside
in the pouring rain tending them and brushing them, and on many occasions sneaking
a carrot or two for them. Father always said he was made to be a Rider. I,
on the other hand, and being the only other girl in the house, learned the
usual chores: sewing, cooking, cleaning (oh, how I despised washing the dishes!)
the usual things, and for the most part I enjoyed many of them. Mother also
taught us all how to read and write, and she was very proud of that. She always
told us how there were many children of lords and ladies who couldn’t
read a thing, and were taught to fight more than learn from books. Obviously,
Mik could relate to them, but soon became enraptured with letters. Only using
a stick and the dust, he could spin beautiful scripts; twisting and winding,
like some great vine. This led to his acceptance by a scribe when he was 12.
By now, I was 19, and Sulum was 20. Sulum had already found a beau, and was
planning on buying a plot of land for his own, while I was still working at
home with Mother and Father. They didn’t seem to mind, but more than
once I wondered what they thought of me, already an adult and not a major plan
in sight. The evening that the scribe came for Mik changed all of that. He
spoke of Minas Tirith, the White City of Gondor, and the most renowned fortress
at that. To me it sounded like a fairy tale I could live, like being in the
same house as a great King, and never having seen him. I made my mind up then
and there that I would go to see this place. Mik left with the scribe in the
morning, and I spoke with Mother and Father about my thoughts. They were a
little wary, but allowed me to go as long as I wrote back on a regular basis.
I traveled from Tarlang’s Neck (which was nestled between the mountains)
out into the open, and the journey took me a few days with regular stops. I
first came to see Minas Tirith in the dawn, and it was beautiful. I certainly
agreed with Father on how wonderful it seemed. I soon had a small cottage and
now I have taken up shop as a laundress. Of all things, I live next to a tailor,
so my work is hardly sparse. Since I came to the White City, I have seen much
of Middle Earth. I have seen the war against Therion in the north, and have
traveled with the dwarves. Upon my last visit back to my family, my brothers
had questioned my about my situation concerning men. I tried to evade the subject
for the most part and eventually it was pried out of me that I had yet to meet
someone, but was looking. Well, you can expect what Mik and Sulum thought of
that. I returned home and expected to return to normal life when of all people,
I met a rider of Rohan. His name was Strider4, and a relationship blossomed.
I am proud to say that now I am his wife, and we are still considering where
to put our doormat (Living a country apart from one another cannot help things
all the more) but I have a happy life, and I expect it can only get better.
<< Fanatics Plaza
y history is not one of adventure, nor of excitement. You will hear the tales
of other people who have lived rich lives and have traveled to the black gates
of Mordor and back. I am telling you now, this is not one of them. Truth be told,
this is probably one of the more boring stories you may hear in Minas Tirith,
but it is my tale nonetheless, and if asked, I will tell it.
was born to a farmer and a handmaiden (well, hand-matron, to be exact.
Mother is always particular about that…) named Gorlim and Eilinel. Thankfully,
their fate turned out much happier than their namesakes did. Well, they were
married in the autumn, when the falling red leaves made a colourful shower
for their wedding. About a year later, my older brother, Sulum was born. The
name meant ‘mast’ in Adunaic, and as he became quite tall and thin,
the name fit. Three or so years later, I was born, and was supposed to be named
Katha-Arun (roughly translated ‘king of all’; guess who was crowned
when I was born?). Both Mother and Father ended up meshing the words together
to become Catherine, and I have been called so ever since. When I was conceived,
the War of the Ring was raging, and my father was called to arms at the last
minute when the Elessar traveled through the paths of the Dead. My mother thanks
Eru every day that he didn’t travel to Mordor, and freed Osgilliath instead.
He returned home after the coronation, and only had a few scratches and a nasty
looking scar. When I was seven, the youngest child, Mik, came into the world.
The birth was difficult, and the midwife used all of her knowledge to save
both mother and child. Mik survived, but Mother was unable to have any more
children after that.
e quickly became known everywhere as a mischievous little boy, and could be
found chasing the chickens into hysteria and cleaning out the stables much
too late than was good for the animals. (This lead to a case of foot rot for
his favorite calf, and the stalls were much cleaner from then on.) Sulum became
immersed in his chores, and adored the few h0rses we had for emergency travel
and usual farm chores. If you couldn’t find him, he was usually outside
in the pouring rain tending them and brushing them, and on many occasions sneaking
a carrot or two for them. Father always said he was made to be a Rider. I,
on the other hand, and being the only other girl in the house, learned the
usual chores: sewing, cooking, cleaning (oh, how I despised washing the dishes!)
the usual things, and for the most part I enjoyed many of them. Mother also
taught us all how to read and write, and she was very proud of that. She always
told us how there were many children of lords and ladies who couldn’t
read a thing, and were taught to fight more than learn from books. Obviously,
Mik could relate to them, but soon became enraptured with letters. Only using
a stick and the dust, he could spin beautiful scripts; twisting and winding,
like some great vine. This led to his acceptance by a scribe when he was 12.
By now, I was 19, and Sulum was 20. Sulum had already found a beau, and was
planning on buying a plot of land for his own, while I was still working at
home with Mother and Father. They didn’t seem to mind, but more than
once I wondered what they thought of me, already an adult and not a major plan
in sight. The evening that the scribe came for Mik changed all of that. He
spoke of Minas Tirith, the White City of Gondor, and the most renowned fortress
at that. To me it sounded like a fairy tale I could live, like being in the
same house as a great King, and never having seen him. I made my mind up then
and there that I would go to see this place. Mik left with the scribe in the
morning, and I spoke with Mother and Father about my thoughts. They were a
little wary, but allowed me to go as long as I wrote back on a regular basis.
I traveled from Tarlang’s Neck (which was nestled between the mountains)
out into the open, and the journey took me a few days with regular stops. I
first came to see Minas Tirith in the dawn, and it was beautiful. I certainly
agreed with Father on how wonderful it seemed. I soon had a small cottage and
now I have taken up shop as a laundress. Of all things, I live next to a tailor,
so my work is hardly sparse. Since I came to the White City, I have seen much
of Middle Earth. I have seen the war against Therion in the north, and have
traveled with the dwarves. Upon my last visit back to my family, my brothers
had questioned my about my situation concerning men. I tried to evade the subject
for the most part and eventually it was pried out of me that I had yet to meet
someone, but was looking. Well, you can expect what Mik and Sulum thought of
that. I returned home and expected to return to normal life when of all people,
I met a rider of Rohan. His name was Strider4, and a relationship blossomed.
I am proud to say that now I am his wife, and we are still considering where
to put our doormat (Living a country apart from one another cannot help things
all the more) but I have a happy life, and I expect it can only get better.
