Little is said about half breeds in the Lord of the Rings series and the Hobbit. While I know they can and do occur, many are either the result from human and elf pairings, or from human and orc pairings. I wanted to write a story with a main character that came from a different background, and how life might be lived for her, while also being able to change certain events that occur in the Hobbit. Disclaimer for my story: I only own my original characters.
In a little village, in a little cottage, there lived a blacksmith and his wife. The blacksmith had hair like flame that fell in wild curls, and a long braided beard. The wife had hair like corn silk, and eyes like the verdant grasses that grew in the spring. They forged a life together in that small little village; piece by piece they built their home, his smithy shop, and her garden. By day he made nails, sharpened axes and fixed wagons. By night he came home to his wife and told her how much he loved her. For years and years they tried to bring new life into the world forged from their love, they had almost given up hope, but then something miraculous happened… soon a child was born.
...
The world came into focus gradually, and it all started with a pounding on the head so fierce that Lanis was worried she'd been trampled by a horse. Next, the world focused from blurred colors into old wooden planks above her head and a sky smeared grey with heavy rain clouds that could be seen out the open doorway. The air smelled thickly of hay, and horses. Did she actually get kicked by a horse? She reached a hand up to her aching head to check for wounds, sure enough her hands brushed over a lump behind her right ear.
"Oh, by the gods. That smarts." She hissed, her memory of the previous day came rushing back to her and she grimaced, never mess with feisty untrained stallions.
Lanis glanced around for her pack, a sturdy leather backpack with extra pockets, and hoisted it onto her shoulders. The stable master had been nice enough to let her sleep in the barn during her stay in Fornost. She'd spent the past few months feeding the horses by day, and then working in the Inn by night, playing her flute and singing songs. She'd missed her shift last night after she'd helped get a new stallion back into the corral; the feisty thing had struck her. The stable master had been shocked, insisting that she should go see a healer. Needless to say, she didn't go to see any healer, unless you count the bottom of a bottle of mead and a rather comfortable pile of hay.
Rising up and dusting bits of hay off of her trousers, she began the walk into Fornost to stock up on supplies. Her gear for the most part was intact, despite the few times she'd fallen into a scuffle. Her grey-blue cloak had a few snags on the end from getting caught in brambles and her knee-high doeskin leather boots were lightly travel worn; she wouldn't have to worry about repairs for quite some time, so long as she stayed out of trouble. Her off-white blouse had long loose sleeves that billowed about in the breeze, and on top of the blouse was a reinforced brown leather corset vest that offered her protection. Her trousers were made of soft grey cotton, which were tucked into her boots. She might be a woman, but dresses and skirts simply weren't practical for travel. Strapped around her waist was a utility belt which held various supplies, her flute and two long iron daggers. She wore her cloak today, the clouds overhead suggested rain was on its way. Pulling the hood of her cloak over her mess of golden blonde curls, she stepped out of the stable.
She was headed to the market primarily intending to pick up something for breakfast. The market place was bustling with activity despite the dour setting the sky provided, and she slipped around other shoppers with practiced ease. Stalls lined the cobbled streets and were filled with a variety of items: colorful silks and cotton weaves, fresh fish and meats, freshly grown vegetables and herbs. She bought a couple of apples and some sweet bread for breakfast before making her way over to a stall selling healing salves. She was inspecting a jar for bumps and bruises when he had appeared. She'd nearly dropped the bottle in surprise when she'd felt his hand on her shoulder.
Whirling around she'd pointed an accusatory finger in his direction, "Didn't I ask you not to pop out of nowhere?"
"I never simply pop out of nowhere, Lanis. I travel in exactly the same manner that everyone else does." Gandalf had tilted his dead down as he looked at her, leaning on his staff as he did so. He looked every part the wise old wizard, and he'd never aged a day since she first met him all those years ago.
She grinned at her old friend, but then her suspicions started to rise "What are you doing here? I don't expect you've come to Fornost for nothing."
Gandalf sighed, "Can an old man never be allowed to visit his friends? But you are right, I came for you Lanis. I am in need of your assistance."
"My assistance with what, exactly?" Lanis raised an eyebrow at him from under her hood.
He hesitated briefly, "It's a delicate matter, one that should be discussed elsewhere, but your abilities will be most useful given the circumstances. Lanis, you know I'd only ask this of you if it was important."
Lanis huffed in indignation; he was keeping her in the dark again. She paused for a moment, starting at the healing salve in her hand before placing it back on the counter. She didn't know how she felt about helping the wizard with so little information, but regardless she trusted Gandalf's judgment. If this really was an important matter, and he came to her for help, who was she to turn him away?
"Very well then, lead the way. I make no promises for how long I'll stay, but I'll help you for now at least." She turned back towards him.
Gandalf smiled, then turned and led her back out of the city. Lanis knew Gandalf would want to get going immediately, and was glad that she was nearly always travel-ready. Fornost was a decently large human city, built primarily out of dark stone and wood. It had many buildings all lined up in an odd grid, and tall stone walls that rose up about it to cage it in. She never particularly enjoyed the sight of this city when she first laid eyes on it. Despite its beautiful surroundings of grassy flower speckled meadows, hills and mountains, Fornost was in itself a depressing city. The humans that lived here were always in such a rush to accomplish things, busying themselves about this way and that, often very impatient. Lanis found them to be quite rude as well, they weren't as generous with tips, and the only people she had gotten along with since she came here were the stable master and the innkeeper.
Lanis sighed as they walked out of the gates, despite her dislike for the city she wasn't sure which she desired more: to stay in the city or to leave with Gandalf. He knew that she didn't like being kept in the dark, but he had hinted that it was too dangerous to inform her about their quest in such a populated space. Whatever they were about to do, it might be more danger than Lanis was ready to get into. They walked down the south road towards the stables; once they arrived Gandalf moved towards a chestnut mare that was already saddled and ready to ride.
Gandalf vaguely informed her of his plan, "We'll ride together, to get to The Shire we need to make good time. We'll cut through the country and cross the Brandywine Bridge."
"The Shire?" Lanis's green eyes blinked owlishly up at Gandalf. She certainly hadn't been expecting to go there, of all places.
She'd never been to The Shire, although she'd heard about it from some hobbits during her stay in Bree. It was supposed to be a lovely place of rolling hills and lush grasses. There were multiple farms nearby, and according to some of the locals in Bree, the best mead and ale west of the South Downs. The locals were gentle folk who preferred to grow plants and dig in the dirt rather than leave the comfort of their town and pursue conflict or adventure. What on Arda were they going there for?
"We're going to The Shire to pick up another member of the company. All of the company will be meeting at The Shire before we leave, you'll meet them soon. A lively bunch that lot." Gandalf answered as if reading her mind. He smiled, no doubt thinking about this company they were going to be meeting.
Lanis couldn't stop the agitation stirring inside of her, "Gandalf, exactly how many people are we going with on this venture? You know I don't like traveling with others, besides yourself of course."
"Get on the horse you fool, we've ground to cover." Gandalf dogged her question and grabbed the back of her vest, hauling her onto the horse. He might look like an old man, but Gandalf was by far one of the hardiest beings that Lanis had ever met. Being hauled onto the horse like that had made her feel like a kitten in its mother's mouth, and she hated it. She could have just as easily gotten on the horse herself. Gandalf hoisted himself into the saddle behind her, and urged the mare into a trot.
Lanis was uncomfortable with the knowledge that she'd be traveling with more than just her and Gandalf. She'd pushed everyone away after her mother's death, everyone except for Gandalf, though it wasn't for the lack of trying. He'd been there for her, even when she didn't want him to be, and in his stubbornness she'd made a friend. She'd learned the hard way that getting attached to people usually ended in disaster, life was too easily taken away. This was why she preferred to travel alone, so that she wouldn't have to lose anyone else.
Despite all of that, she cared for her friend, and she didn't want Gandalf to have to face whatever this was alone. She didn't know exactly what Gandalf was getting her into this time, she just hoped he knew what he was doing, and didn't bite off more than he could chew. He always had a habit of wanting to get involved in dangerous prospects.
