Hi! New story, just because. Reviews are LUV!
She tacked up her horse, Näurdal, and collected her knives and sword. She left a farewell note for her kind hosts, the Proudfoots, and then mounted onto Näurdal.
"Oillaan el irillaan!" she urged her steed as she rode off into the dark. Her journey out of Hobbiton laid no danger, and she allowed an eased reign to Näurdal's smooth swift gallop. To Rivendell she was traveling foremost, to visit Elrond and seek his counsel over her most recent vision, which still rang clear in her mind.
When she had traveled all day she reached the village of Bree. She decided to stay there for the night, because she was in need of shelter to replenish her strength. She passed through the gates in the pouring rain, as thunder crashed and lightning struck. She stabled her horse and went to the well-known little inn call The Prancing Pony.
The inn was a lively one, with a portly barman, and a hearty host of many drinking people. They were laughing and enjoying themselves, not even noticing the slender caped elf standing in the doorway. Though Alassë the elf was usually kind, she was well known for her cunning. She had scorned many a man, dwarf, elf, and even wizard in her time. She could lie as often as tell the complete truth, so trickily that her victim often could not tell lie from truth or truth from lie. She'd cheated and tricked her way out of many a peril, as well as taught much humility to those who thought of her as insignificant and small. Yes, she had a way with words; like a spider weaving a web she
could spin and twist them to her will. She searched around the inn, seeing and hearing unfamiliar voices, that of which she was thankful. As she was gazing she noticed someone rather odd sitting in the corner, smoking his long wood pipe. He had a sharp grey-green hood was over his eyes, but all too late, she realized who the familiar stranger was. She began to back out of the inn, but the man stood from his spot. Alassë went swiftly and silently out of the inn, but a hand grasped the back of her neck, and promptly slammed her against the wall of an alley, turning her so that she could see the Ranger's angry gaze.
"Mänkoi ier lle' sinomë, lle' kaie'?" The Ranger asked angrily.
"Why are you here, you liar?"
The elf smugly tilted her head and smirked.
"Am I not permitted to pass through, Elendil? Or have you claimed these lands for yourself?"
"You use my tongue, why? Cannot you spin your tongue around these words you spew into your own language? Do not poison mine, Celeblambê." The Ranger let go his grasp.
"Silver tongue? You use such a cruel name for one so powerful, Ranger." It was Alassë's turn to be angry. She rested her hand on her knife's sheath. The Ranger glared and made a wary move away.
"It is fitting." The man said, clenching his jaw.
"You are so against me, why?"
"Against you? To be for you is to spin a tangled thread of lies all my own. I will not associate myself with such a Deceiver." Alassë smiled briefly.
"Have you seen Mithrandir?" the elf's tone changed with this question. She became serious, for her question was an important one.
"No. Not since I returned from the east." The man's tone had changed as well.
"I will take that into accord. I plan to travel to Rivendell on urgent matters of my own once the dawn breaks the horizon. But for tonight, I desire to sleep with a roof over my head, not a bird's nest under it."
The elf began to walk toward the inn; however the man touched her
shoulder.
"I as well need to get a message to Rivendell. If you would deliver itfor me I would be very grateful. The Black Riders have left Minas Morgul. They've headed toward the west and I fear they are looking for someone…or something." The Ranger raised his brows, and Alassë knew immediately what dangers he spoke of.
The Great Ring has been found? And not only that, but it is roaming in the west, with nine wraiths trying to find it with all their will? I thought it had been lost long ago, never to be seen or heard of again! Who- could have found such a worthy and evil prize? For such an evil Power like that to be roaming out in the wilderness of the west, woe
to the Bearer and his Burden.
And as Alassë thought these things she began to want for the Power such a Ring could possess. However, she destroyed the feelings quickly, remarking how foolish she was to want for such an evil.
"Then, my friend, we'd best not speak of it now, for we do not know what ears are listening. I will deliver your message. However I shall not do so until I've had a bit of a rest and replenishing of strength.
I ride in the morning to Rivendell, therefore, to deliver the Dùnadan's message." Alassë said, as the Ranger nodded.
"Very well. But I have another message must be given in Rivendell: there is an indefinite possibility that I may be arriving there quite soon and possibly with a host of Halflings. The elves must be prepared for whatever evils follow me to their land. Make certain these words reach the ears of Elrond, mellon. Máara'domë Kâlina'dalë."
"friend. Goodnight, Lightfooted."
"Máara'domë." The elf replied as she reentered the inn and went to buy herself a simple meal.
There were many drunken laughing people at the bar and soon Alassë found herself tempted to take part in some of the merriment. She knew it was unwise to do so; however her feet found themselves standing at the bar amongst the merrymakers.
Barliman Butterbur smiled, with a twinkle in his eye as he hunched over the bar to take her order. The elf narrowed her eyes and glared at the cheerful man.
"Half-pint." The barman nodded once after Alassë had said these words. After she'd received her drink, she looked out of the corner of her eye and saw that the Ranger had returned to his spot in the corner and had begun to smoke his wood pipe once more. He'd drawn his hood over his head, and the glare of the fire in his pipe shone his eyes briefly. He was watching the door, as if waiting for someone important to arrive. The Celeblambê continued to drink out of her goblet as she too trained her eyes on the inn's door. There was then an almost unnoticed entrance of four Halflings. The elf did not move, but in her mind there was a raging war. There was a sense of evil, but of Halflings? She tried to mentally shake the feelings off, but they lingered. The four Hobbits stood soaked from the recent downpour that must have just caught them. They huddled together as if frozen cold, even whilst there was a
blazing fire amongst the surroundings of the inn. The foremost Hobbit in the group shivered as he shuffled
forward to the edge of the bar, where the top of his head did not even touch the edge. The elf slowly raised her hood over her head, hoping none of the four had noticed her ears. The barman finally got to them, and serviced them. Alassë finished her drink and lightly stepped away to her room.
Hope it was good so far, still working on the next chapter.
Reviews!