The Prodigal Child... Chapter 1 - She was raised by dwarfs but was the second cousin of Aragorn

Fire arrayed the sky. The daughter Alisa, daughter of a steel forger, had an affair with guard of Gondor, head master of the West Gate. Finding out she was pregnant, she hid in a small village, hiding her identiy from her father and lover.

For if her father was to know, disgrace would be too much to bear and she would be forced to either leave the family or give up the child. She decided to leave on her own decision to not put her father to shame. For she would have to do that anyways, becuase who could give up their baby.

She was born on a cold, windy day. It had been raining for several days and flooding had occured through the cracks of the old log cabin.

An attack! Orcs had invaded the small village, looking for the warm taste of man flesh, that would quench their thirst. They destroyed anything in their path and devouyed the bodies when all was quiet.

But Alisa got away. She struggled through the bush, grasping the baby tightly in her arms, protecting her baby girl from the twigs that tired to puncture her. She kept tripping and her hair would get stuck in the branches of tress hanging low. Blood began to drip from where she was struck, but she continued on.

Soon she collapsed. She could go on no futher. She could hear footsteps behind her. She rolled on her back protecting the baby from the cold rain. She gave one last look at her baby and said, "If something great will come of you, may gods spare you."

Dwarves were passing through the bush on a trail. And the smell of orcs was very strong. They kept their axes at hand and ready. They could hear one devouring something in the bush. They could see the body crounched over the corpse of a man.

They attacked the orcs. Slaying him where he fed. The half eaten body lay face down. The entire back, ripped open blood and water flowed.

"She was just killed. I curse all orcs!" yelles a stout dwarf. He was visibly shorter than the other companions. His gold and brass helm told everyone his status of a great minner.

He turned over the woman, about to bury her and maybe indentify her, so they could bring news to the villages nearby, telling of the death of this woman.

But...A baby lay under her. The baby did not cry, but looked intently at the dwarf. Since the baby was a newborn she could not smile or laugh yet. Objects were still a bit fuzzy, but the presence of the dwarves made this baby confident and relaxed as if they were her mother.

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