"Just breathe Aeldre... Breathing is the key..."
Deep within the wilderness of trees, there was a woman, by the name of Aeldre, crouched on top of a thick tree branch. Her left hand was holding firmly onto the grip of the bow, and her right hand was drawing the string back, while holding the nock of the arrow. She kept the string close to her right cheek where she could feel the fibers of it against her skin, and have her eyes steady on her targeted mark in sight. Breathing, and breathing, she kept her nerves calm and her heart a steady speed to keep her mind focus. However, she could tell that the slight shiver of her hand on the bow wasn't giving her a perfect aim she desired.
"Steady..." She murmured to herself as she tried her best to keep the arrow straight. To her irritation, it flew astray after her fingers set it free, just as she had expected. Her heart dropped in her chest as it whistled past the target. She let her bow fall to her lap, letting out a huff of frustration at her own ability. It's another embarrassing failure.
She knew that her bowmanship was far from being perfect. Aeldre had always handled swords more comfortably than bows, considering her training in swordplay as a child. Of course she was very willingly to learn, but to her annoyance, she couldn't expect to be the best of Elvedom's archers quite yet. As much as that annoyed her, Aeldre was never the type to complain or be impatient.
Aeldre slipped her head through the gap between the string and the bow, leaving it secure across her chest. She hefted the quiver full of arrows beside her, and slung it over her left shoulder to let it lay on. She then grabbed hold onto an overhead branch as she stepped off, and hung underneath for a moment, before she thrust her body to swing for the next branch down and worked her way down till she could feel the forest floor touching her feet. From there, Aeldre traveled her way back to her Elven home, Rivendell.
Aeldre was different from most of the elves in Rivendell. She was born to have the blood of both elves and men. She had all the feature of Men, so that she could easily disguise herself as one without being noticed as an elf, except her slightly pointed ears, always hiding underneath her dark hair.
Aeldre walked down the stone bridge that leads to the entrance of Rivendell, and followed up the stairs soon after. She strolled along the trails of the Elven home in search of Elrond, but she couldn't find the elf anywhere. Aeldre needed to report back to Lord Elrond about her progress with the bow, unfortunately, his presence here in Rivendell wasn't present.
She gave up in fair time, reasoning that he could be outside of Rivendell for another scouting mission, and made her way to a nearby gazebo to rest.
Once she stepped into it, Aeldre set her bow and quiver onto the center table, and collapsed down to a seat as she let out a deep sigh. She needed to take a break from all the training she had gone through, even though her tries were ended up as failures.
The half-breed crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back to make herself comfortable, and closed her eyes. She felt herself drifting off to sleep as her head slowly dropped forward until her chin was touching her chest.
Suddenly, the sound of hooves on stone filtered into earshot, growing increasingly louder and louder, waking Aeldre from her slumber. She was familiar with the sound of horses approaching Rivendell, and so she followed the sound towards the gate of Rivendell, not bothering to take her bow.
As Aeldre approached the source of the noise, she stopped beside a tree a bit away, peering down at the people below. She was right about Lord Elrond being back from scouting; however, there was also the unexpected company of what looked to be a troop of Dwarves and…a Hobbit? They were surrounded by the elves on their horses, and surprisingly the wizard Aeldre recognized as Gandalf the Grey. Who are they? she thought with a frown, What is their purpose here in Rivendell? Despite these questions in her mind, Aeldre watched silently as Lord Elrond escorted this unusual company towards the dining hall. Supressing a groan of annoyance, she surrendered to her own mind's whims, slipping down the path after them. She only hoped that the old adage "curiosity killed the cat" wouldn't prove true for her.
