Childhood

A baby brother. He was going to hav a baby brother. He scampered along his familiar paths through the wilds to the nearby grove. He waved to the blue birds in their nests, scared a pair of rabbits with his joyous proclamations, and in general, spread his childish humor to all his usual friends. Finally he lay breathless, staring up at a picturesque blue sky, speckled with white fluffy clouds, framed by the green boughs above his head. If he didn't know better, he would have thought he had woken up in Valinor.

"Bunny!!" The blonde headed toddler giggled, racing after the rabbit in the field.  Her mother shook her head, smiling, as she raced after the little girl. "Come back here Desiare, leave the rabbit alone. She may have babies to go home to and feed.  

Desiare squealed happily, the thought seeming to only spur her on. "Bunnies!! Want to see babies!" Her tiny legs carried her as fast as they would go, as her mother raced to keep up with her.

Argyll son of Eorath and older brother of Argath. Young Daellas of about 9 years old always feared his presence but in the same time wanted to be like him. Yet Argyll was rarely seen in Garsfeld or the crofts just like his brother. But he was there when times turned sour. Also at that moment when our lives were changed forever...

It was a large but simple farmhouse, standing just outside a rather small but typical village in the Southern crofts called Garsfeld. Many people lived and worked there tending the fields. The crops were traded with Snowbourn and with western parts of Rohan if the crops yields were good. Our mother Freia worked there every day together with her younger brother Brenthelm, our uncle. There were also stable boys, and lads of other families working on the fields daily now, it was the harvest season. 

(Directly continued from part two)

Cyndere Bronwyn; a young woman of Dale, who grew up in Bree. Her story begins ten years ago, just after her ninth birthday... 

A few little pieces of memories in a marmelade of feelings, that's all what's left from my little childhood, before the age of 4-5 years, and before you.
Then, quite instantaneously, things found a logical place in the world and in my head. It was not just a flash here at home, and there at the fisher's shop, it was now the full way between. History and geography have bloomed simultaneously in my past.
One thing i clearly remember, is when the old Martha gave us our first book. She was the one who was teaching to read to the children of Combe.