Hello, my lovely readers! How are you today? Good? Awesome! I'm really excited about reading this chapter! I love The Lord of the Rings, so I decided to write a fic about it! I hope you like it!
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Chapter One: The Past of a Giant
Large, hairy feet stumbled across the woodland grass, knees falling against the dirt. What was that noise? The incessant wailing, like a loud baby dragon that just could not fall into slumber like the rest of its brothers and sisters.
Berylla Gamgee -Took of Bywater- had been in a peaceful slumber, right after coming back from the Green Dragon and laughing with some friends of his, having a good time. The normal hobbit things to do. Then, he was suddenly awakened by wailing and a shadow of a tall woman fleeing across his window.
Finally, he had come across a strange sight. A small baby girl was in the middle of a clearing, a note lying upon her purple blanket and two strange swords right next to her. The second the young Berylla had picked the young lass up, the baby had stopped crying! What a feat!
She sat down on the cold hard soil and settled the youngling on her lap, piking the small note off the folds of the baby blanket, unrolling it slowly. It read:
Hello, my dear hobbit. I am sorry that I could not have exchanged much pleasantries in person, for I am in a great rush. You see, something has caused me not to be able to keep my young elfling-
She stopped reading and looked down at the sleeping infant. An elf? How did she not notice before? Berylla pushed back a bit of purple cloth by the head, revealing tan, pointed ears. If there was no one else to take care of the child, then she would! She turned her attention back to the paper.
You see, something has caused me not to be able to keep my young elfling... I am worried for the future, and she should be able to help. Yet, by the time she is of age to help, many generations of hobbits will have passed, and many families will she belong to. I must go now. Goodbye.
As Berylla finished reading, she turned to the child, who was now sleeping deeply. Berylla smiled at the adorable angel. Of course, she thought all babies were angels, so this one was no different. "Now," she started, "do you have a name, young elleth?"
Suddenly, her something at the edge of her peripheral vision. A name, on the soft edge of the purple blanket. It read: Aranel Telrúnya. Even though she didn't know what it meant, it sounded beautiful, just like the rest of the elven language.
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Many years and childhood memories past, filled with love, jealousy, happiness, sadness, and many other emotions. Many hobbits passed, too. Their memories and loves, friends and family. Yet one of the villagers still remained. One that was secluded at some point in time, from nearly everything. All due to elven blood. Aranel Telrúnya. Although many friends had she, many did not love her as her friends had to.
As though if she were an heirloom, she was passed on from one generation to the next, eventually growing older and taller, surpassing all hobbits to the height of six foot three. Tall. Elf. Outsider. All those words were soon to be loathed by many... especially by our young Aranel Telrúnya (Who wasn't young by hobbit standards). This tale is not only about Aranel, but the fellowship with a side dish of Aranel. Although, maybe we should take a peek through her eyes throughout this adventure of death and destruction... but, let us not forget the love, hope and happiness that may take place in this journey. The journey of...
The Fellowship of the Ring.