In the impetuous wild days of her youth, Lissabeth was determined to become a doughty warrior, despite the disapproval of her farmer parents, and how rare it was for a girl to become a soldier. She trained with, then served with, the Bree town guard.

This was more than twenty years ago, and the times were quite peaceful, but there were still occasionally orcs from the hills, brigands, or other threats. After a few years of service, she took a serious injury, a spear-thrust deep into one leg, and had to spend several weeks in the care of a healer. The injury healed fully, leaving only a tiny scar.

While in the healer's care, though, she met a man, Dennison Oatmiller, a farmer who'd come down with an illness. To say they fell in love makes it seem too grand; this was not some sweeping storybook romance. But they felt comfortable with one another, and after their recovery, courted, and chose to marry.

She hung up her sword and moved to the Oatmiller farm and took up the life of a farm-wife. They raised three children: Denston, the oldest son; Bradley, always ambitious perhaps because of growing up in Denston's shadow; and Elissa, sweet, shy, and timid. The years passed, and all three children grew up and eventually married. Bradley and his wife were taking up the family name and getting the mill going, and Elissa married a baker, while Denston's wife now lives at the Oatmiller farm.

The last few years, Dennison's years were catching up with him. He was some fifteen years Lissabeth's senior, and a life of labor had worn him out. Denston and his wife took over more and more of the farm's work. Near the end of winter, he passed in peace and contentment to the Halls of Mandos. Lissabeth buried him, grateful for his well-lived life, and then tried to go back to her own.

But she felt like a fifth wheel, at loose ends. Denston and his wife clearly didn't need her around; it wasn't her time anymore, it was theirs. She only felt in the way. After many long nights gazing at the stars wondering what to do, she finally resolved to return to Bree, without any clear idea what to do with herself when she got there.

She eventually found a place for herself as a maker of soap, candles, and perfumes, and for a few months, she did well enough to even rent rooms in the center of town, but business flagged, and she was forced to return to live with her son and daughter-in-law on the Oatmiller Farm.