Chapter 1
The wind whipped my hair back behind me as I crossed the calm Fords of Brunien on the back of my horse Dûrardaiel. Her hooves clopped against the rocks and took me to the other side. I pushed a lock that had fallen back in my face behind my pointy ear. Finally, I was home.
I rode my horse to the entrance of the city where they welcomed me whole- heartedly. Most of them guessed I was here to see old friends, but I was here to see the One Ring. Not that I wanted it, I wanted in my most deepest desires to destroy it. I think some of the elves guessed I was doing that to, but very few knew.
Come to think of it, I knew of very, VERY, few who did. Rumors could have hopped around and spread, but I don't think an elf would do such a thing. For my brother, Thauruial was killed because of the power of the Ring. Killed by Sauron himself. To some, it might seem an event of history, of the past. Not to me. To me the pain still burned like he had been slaughtered yesterday.
I rode Dûrardaiel to the stables where the stable hand fed and watered her. I ventured to some old acquaintances' houses where they greeted me kindly. Even though it didn't show, most of them were very old, for I had known them when I was very young. Most of them remembered my mischief. They sent me on my way. Last to see was Arwen. I had not seen her since we were both younger, much younger at that. She greeted me warmly, though her mind seemed troubled. She decided to stop hiding it from me.
"Follow me." She said. I did so and she led me to a room in the House of Elrond where a young boy lay, unconscious. "I assume you are here to join the band that is to destroy the Ring." I nodded yes. "This tiny fellow has brought it this far, all the way from The Shire. He is a hobbit." I nodded in sudden understanding. "You thought he was a young boy?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. "He must have great courage to bring it from the far away lands of his home.
"Oh yes. He was stabbed by a Morgul blade on Weathertop. I brought him here. A few more minutes and he would have been lost." I felt sudden pity for him. I knew, for some reason, he would not give up. He would take the Ring and destroy it. And by my life, I would go with him.
The wind whipped my hair back behind me as I crossed the calm Fords of Brunien on the back of my horse Dûrardaiel. Her hooves clopped against the rocks and took me to the other side. I pushed a lock that had fallen back in my face behind my pointy ear. Finally, I was home.
I rode my horse to the entrance of the city where they welcomed me whole- heartedly. Most of them guessed I was here to see old friends, but I was here to see the One Ring. Not that I wanted it, I wanted in my most deepest desires to destroy it. I think some of the elves guessed I was doing that to, but very few knew.
Come to think of it, I knew of very, VERY, few who did. Rumors could have hopped around and spread, but I don't think an elf would do such a thing. For my brother, Thauruial was killed because of the power of the Ring. Killed by Sauron himself. To some, it might seem an event of history, of the past. Not to me. To me the pain still burned like he had been slaughtered yesterday.
I rode Dûrardaiel to the stables where the stable hand fed and watered her. I ventured to some old acquaintances' houses where they greeted me kindly. Even though it didn't show, most of them were very old, for I had known them when I was very young. Most of them remembered my mischief. They sent me on my way. Last to see was Arwen. I had not seen her since we were both younger, much younger at that. She greeted me warmly, though her mind seemed troubled. She decided to stop hiding it from me.
"Follow me." She said. I did so and she led me to a room in the House of Elrond where a young boy lay, unconscious. "I assume you are here to join the band that is to destroy the Ring." I nodded yes. "This tiny fellow has brought it this far, all the way from The Shire. He is a hobbit." I nodded in sudden understanding. "You thought he was a young boy?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. "He must have great courage to bring it from the far away lands of his home.
"Oh yes. He was stabbed by a Morgul blade on Weathertop. I brought him here. A few more minutes and he would have been lost." I felt sudden pity for him. I knew, for some reason, he would not give up. He would take the Ring and destroy it. And by my life, I would go with him.