Petals of different colours fell to the ground from the flowers of fruits that would never bloom. A few still had drops of morning dew that shimmered in the light as they floated lightly down. The birds chirped quietly, not loud enough to take center stage, only just quiet enough to be pleasant background noise. The water from the constantly flowing streams fell around into miniature waterfalls, the light catching perfectly in the falling water as it rushed on to its destination.

Everything about Imladris seemed perfect. The ever-green trees provided a canopy of leaves that the sun's rays filtered through, resulting in ample amounts of shade, and where the light reached it was not to ever be considered too bright. Even at night, the stars and moon provided soft glowing silver for everyone to work by, and if it was that the moonlight was weak, the candles' warm gold light never brings harm to the eyes of the tired.

It was to be understood if anyone were to be envious of the privileged who stayed at Imladris. As a Man looked upon the faces of the Elves around him, he felt a twinge of envy at the Elves good fortune, though it was not for their perfect home that he begrudged them.

A Man could acquire land and build a house, he could expand his territory to the most beautiful landscape and gaze out upon the grounds he had come to own for as long as he pleased, but there was one thing he could never obtain.

To seem so young and so childish but at the same time so wise, to have seen so much of the world, and have so many more years to see the world change and stay with their friends, to rule the lands of their homes and watch their kin grow; never did they have to face death and the dark unknown associated with it, lest they were killed in battle, but that was rare, and even then they did not truly die but were sent back to Valinor to live on. All the time in the world the Elves were granted, and to Men it seemed that they wasted much of it, they took it for granted.
It is in the nature of Men to be jealous and stay that way for long, though they know it would do nothing to lengthen their lives, yet immortality was gifted to the Elves, and Men are jealous, not spitefully so, but wistfully, as if the wish is ever in the back of their minds.

It was one thing to wish for wealth, valour, or other such nonsense, but it was another to live for ever. The discontent in the hearts of Men would not always be stifled by longer lives, only with immortality would the wishes cease. Yet it was never gifted to Men, and so for ever would they remain envious.


The day continued just as any other. The sun's light strengthened and everyone became more active. A few inhabitants of Imladris sang new songs of merriment they had just completed; others worked away and created even better ones, ever in competition to be the best song-writer. Others wandered around the house, enjoying the scenery, admiring the earth and its rich bounty, while some chose to lock themselves inside rooms and read on the history of Middle-Earth. Some contemplated what to do with their time, and some tried to improve the home, unsure of what to do with their day, almost as if they were bored and wished for some visitors to break the monotony of their schedule.

Men did not often venture to the homes of Elves, beautiful as they were, but it did not bother the Elves, though Elves welcomed them when they did. Though Men were foolish, there were times in Elvish history when the Elves had made mistakes, and not even they would deny it. They were wise, and they enjoyed the knowledge they obtained in their long years. Learned in all things possible, it was the goal of the Elves who had all of time to find out everything. Yet sometimes they found it boring, to live for ever.

They knew that Men envied them, but few Elves had ever attempted to explain that immortality was not the best. The Elves envied Men their mortality. Men who grew old were still young to one who had lived 3,000 years and seen so much of the world. Men saw that immortality showed one the happiness of the world, all its good, they did not realize that one also saw its sorrows, its pain.

A Man may live through one war, but an Elf will live through many more. It becomes harder and harder for them to lose what they know and be a child again and retain their innocence, to forget what they have seen; and though they try very hard and succeed usually, sometimes there are hurts that never go away. With Men, a wound of the heart is released by death, to an Elf, it is there for ever, unless they die in battle, but that is rare, and even then they did not truly die but were sent back to Valinor to live on, and thus so does the hurt.

They were wise enough to understand that jealously was useless, and they suppressed it, it wasn't in their nature to stay jealous for long, yet mortality was gifted to the Men, and Elves were jealous, not spitefully so, but wistfully, as if the wish were ever in the back of their minds.

Elves did not wish for much, wealth, valour or other such nonsense. Yet the discontent in the hearts of Elves would not always be stifled by sailing West, only with mortality would the wishes cease. Yet it was never gifted to Elves, and so for ever would they remain envious.


While the hearts Men were openly envious of the Elves who were secretly envious of them, the Hobbits cared for neither. They were content with life so long as they had the proper amount of food and ale. Never did they bother with wistful dreams of immortality or did they waste their breath cursing their mortality. They lived their lives as they did, nothing more, nothing less.

It was common knowledge that Hobbits were a quiet folk and didn't like adventures, curiosity was frowned upon, and their height was nothing to admire, thus few so desired the life of a Hobbit, though they were a hardy people. However, there came a time when Elves and Men both looked upon Hobbits and saw their content and for just a moment, the hearts of Elves and Men flickered with jealousy for the care-free Hobbits.


A/N:: Don't give me funny looks, Elves were totally jealous of Men, who in turn were -are- totally jealous of Elves, who are both totally jealous of Hobbits. It's like High School: You have the Elves (top 10) and then you have the Men (top 100) then you have the Hobbits (who don't care about school and are closer to the 300 mark). the Top Ten find themselves sometimes jealous of the top 100 who seem much more care-free about their grades, and then both the top 100 & 10 are jealous of those 300s who are like, "Pfft, school...whatever." and have soooo much freetime (such as yours truely.)
As for the 'family' tag on type of story: Elves and Men are obviously related. You know, with Elves being the first children of Iluvatar and then Men being the second children, I take the relation between the two races quite literally.
Anyway, I Don't own The Silmarillion! (and does it not annoy you that there is no THE in front of Silmarillion in the book category? mildly irksome.) Also: rate and review, might'n you please? I know it's troublesome, but feed back would be awesome pawesome.