Anaia had been promised to the son of Horace Grodn since the day she was born, that was how the families worked. First born daughter and son promised to one another, upon their 18th birthday courting began and unless any glaring reasons were found in that year, they would marry. 18 and two months she and Rowen had been courting, spending time with one another and learning about one another.

He was smitten by her, most of the young men in town were jealous of him, most of the women wanted to be her. Though Anaia did not know why. She was barely 5'6, her dark brown hair sat around her mid back, just above her waist. It was not braided or beaded like some of the other women, for she had not earnt them. She had a slender waist, rounded hips and breasts that, to her were relatively average. Her emerald eyes shone brightly, her laugh was infectious and her smile lit how dry room. She was kind, sweet and caring, everything that her people valued, only she was not faking it and pretending like so many of them.

 That, and she had Rowen... he was handsome, even Anaia admitted that, but all he spoke about was how she would make him look good by bearing him sons. How she would be a good wife and what that entailed as though she had not been told her entire life. He did make her happy though, he was not cruel, he was sweet, bringing her small gifts of flowers from outside the walls.

The more time we spent with him though, the more she grew to like him, perhaps love him. Her mother reminding her that love was like a seed and took water and good soil to grow, the weeds needed to be pulled and the soil tended, only then would a tree grow strong. So, Anaia smiled at Rowen, she laughed at his jokes, soon enough they became natural and almost genuine laughs.

Then the giant had come. It had been 100 years. The elders had known it was coming, but they hoped, as they always did... that the Giants wouldn't send one of their own to take a woman.