Chapter 1
Where could the wizard possibly be? Pulling my cloak tighter around my body I stood amongst the trees of the forest as they provided what little shelter they could from the rain that had started to fall. Curse him. He could be so insufferable at times, yet I suppose I had little to complain about. I owed him a great deal more than he did I. It was he who had took me in when everything, everyone, I knew was taken from me. When all hope had faded and despair had been all I knew, it was he who bestowed generosity and kindness upon me while everyone else looked away, hiding behind the comforts of home while pretending nothing went awry in the world.. For that I owe him a debt I'm afraid I'll never repay. He started me a new life, away from the pain and sufferings of the world; though, one cannot hide from such horrors forever, and it was time for me to return to my kin, despite the dangers I was sure to face.
So here I stood, awaiting the arrival of the wizard who had become my friend, my savior. Two hours. He was due to arrive two hours ago. If it were any other being in Middle Earth I daresay I would be worried; however, this being in particular had a reputation for working on a schedule of his own, as one would when saving the world and fighting off the evils trying to fester in it. I was pulled from my musings when I heard the faint hoof beats of a horse and the creaking of carriage wheels.
"You're late." I stated rather matter of factly as he pulled himself to a halt before me.
"A wizard is never late... Nor is he early. He-"
"Arrives precisely when he means too, yes, yes I know." I finish for him, a smile breaking out on my face at this familiar saying of his.
He too smiles a knowing smile and says "Come then Miss Greythane, we have much to do." I jump into the cart beside the wizard glancing at the old man's face, not able to keep a smile from growing on my face.
"I've missed you Gandalf. It's been too long since I last felt the familiarity of your presence. I'm afraid we have much to catch up on, but naught the time." I say after removing the hood from my face, reminiscing on my last travels with Gandalf. Such great adventures they were. It had been four years since I had last had the pleasure of his company. I had no greater friend than he, as it so happened that he was my only companion.
The horse took off again as we set about on a trip to Bree. I had been told very little of the excursion, just what I should bring and where to meet. Thank the gods above I trusted this man with my life for his secrecy would have been the death of me. Speaking in nothing but riddles when wishing to make you understand a point of his, Gandalf was difficult to communicate with sometimes.
"I daresay that's not true my dear. We have plenty of time, I'd love to hear of your stories. Surely you haven't been doing nothing these past years." He finishes with a smile and a soft chuckle. I simply smile and shake my head at the old wizard.
"You know me too well Mithrandir."
Six days later we reached the town of Bree. A very dark and dingy place it was, inhabited by ominous men and women with apparent staring problems. I subconsciously shifted closer to Gandalf as we weaved our way around the somber town. It had been too long since I was surrounded by the likes of people. Preferring a more solitary lifestyle, I avoided the masses, choosing instead to travel alone in the safety of the woods. That is what had become of me after that fateful day. Isolating myself from the creatures of the world, I took up a fairly secretive way of life. I didn't bother the world and it didn't bother me. The only person who knew of my whereabouts was Gandalf, as he became my most trusted confidant. I provided for myself, the wilderness becoming a home of sorts for me.
Though one might think my lack of interaction with people for such an extended period of time would provide for a being with little to no social skills, it was the fact that I had grown up in the city of Dale that would prove otherwise. For the first 20 or so years of my life I was surrounded by a merry group of people. Always having been on the more quiet side of things, I wasn't much for the outgoing lifestyle associated with the city. However, though I was quiet, it didn't mean I was socially awkward. I had several close companions, I simply preferred to stay out of the center of attention. If the need arrised, I had no problem confronting people or partaking in some of the festivities held within the city. (At the insistence of my friends and family of course.)
All of this had changed however when the dragon Smaug came. He wreaked havoc, taking with him the lives of so many dear to me. He took my home, my family, my friends. Irreplaceable things. He destroyed what little hope I had left in the world; any semblance of happiness I had had vanished in the flames that engulfed the ones I loved. Life would never go back to the way it was. Smaug had destroyed more than our homes that day, he taken more than just the gold in Erabor. The beast had ruined the spirits of our people. A heavy sadness fell over those who had survived, much like the ash that had settled on the once colorful and lively streets of the city I had called home.
I longed for the simplicity that had once been my life. Children running about the markets playing silly games with one another, their imaginations taking them to a place of wonders; a remarkable thing to behold really, I know this now. Men and women conversing and smiling, love and friendship flowing in the air like a gentle breeze on a mid-summer's eve. I try to stop thinking of what was or what could have been, it seems to only bring a new sadness into my heart, one that was unwelcome. Now we are a broken people, divided by the devastation that had changed everything. No more smiles are shared, for fear if we look at someone sharing our own pains we too will be unable to avoid succumbing to the tears that threaten to escape every day of our lives. No more laughter, no more running children. No more love, no more animated streets and lively people to fill them. We had been reduced to beggars, fighters, wanderers. For most, life was hardly worth living, but they held on for the sake of keeping those close to them together.
After several years of moving from place to place, never finding it in me to settle down, I had my first encounter with the ever mysterious Gandalf. I had been traveling along the outskirts of a small town inhabited by fisher folk. Nindamos. Located in the middle of marshlands and next to a lake, the town was fairly difficult to get to. It was isolated enough to stay safe from many of the troubles plaguing the rest of Middle-Earth. It was small towns like this that I tended to stay in the longest. However, upon getting a glance at the folk living in said town it seemed like hiding in the cover of the trees was the safer route. It was hardly an issue, I had been living like this for years, the woods provided me all the things I required to survive, and above all else, it provided peace.
I took refuge in a shelter I had quickly thrown together amidst the branches of a large oak tree. Preferring to be suspended above the ground, trees had promptly become my source of harborage. A sense of safety is something I garner in the forest and trees. Much like it was now, a rain had begun to fall. And though the foliage of the trees was enough to take the brunt of most of the raindrops, it wasn't quite enough to keep me dry altogether. A few hours later and any attempts at sleep had been in vain. Soaked from the ever increasing storm and cold from the ever dropping temperatures, I debated whether it was worth it to seek shelter in the town, despite the unwelcoming vibes it seemed to be emitting. My shivering body and soaked clothing won out, and I found myself making my way towards the entrance of the town. I stood before the gates separating myself from a potentially warm and cozy bed, making my decision that much more justifiable. It had grown quite dark, the ability to see one's hand in front of their face starting to dwindle into nothingness. I rose my hand to the dark, now rain stained, wood and gave three hesitant knocks, praying that someone was keeping guard at the gate. Keeping my hood up and my cloak wrapped tightly around my body, the two doors parted to reveal the outlines of two men dressed in leather armor and swords attached to their hips with very disgruntled looks on their faces. I didn't fail to notice how they kept a hand on the hilt of their swords and a cautious eye on me at all times. A very wary group of people I see. Though, I supposed it wasn't very customary for women to show up dressed like assassins in the middle of the night and wish for admittance into the town either. Perhaps I could see their concern.
"What business have you here?" One of the guards asked with a gruff voice.
"I am only seeking shelter my lords, the weather has been unaccommodating as of late, as I am sure you can see." I made sure to bow my head with respect, giving them as few reasons as possible to deny my request. When I looked up from underneath my hood however, I realized it wasn't going to be as simple as I had thought. Of course they had noticed that it was not a man's voice speaking. The guards' eyebrows rose simultaneously in what would have been a very comical gesture had I been in any other situation. The guard of the right leaned over and mumbled some words into the other's ear.
"What circumstances would bring a woman such as yourself to our township in need of shelter?" The guard of the left asked, his anger seeming to grow with each passing second.
"Seems rather curious to me... How about you Húrin? Such a pretty face to be wandering about in the dark. Not very common around these parts. " The guard said to the man I now knew to be called Húrin.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, the looks they wore on their faces left me feeling leery. I opened my mouth to speak, to somehow weasel my way out this hapless situation, but before anything could come out I heard a deep voice behind me, making me nearly jump out of my skin.
"I do believe the woman amiably asked for nothing more than a shelter from the storm, not to have the wits questioned out of her." The stern voice said. I turned around and saw an old man towering over me. Though he wore a kind face, at this moment it had been replaced by a look of disapproval. In his hand he held a wooden staff, and atop his head sat a large pointy grey hat matching the old worn out grey robes that adorned his body.
Upon seeing the old man, the guards began to visibly stutter. Opening and closing their mouths like fish for a solid twenty seconds before having the gall to respond. Lowering his head Húrin tried to explain.
"We didn't… We were going to… We hadn't meant anything by it we swear Mr. Gandalf! It was all a bit of fun…" I inwardly scoffed at that. They were acting like children who had just gotten yelled at by their mother.
"Well might I suggest the two of you man up and allow her to come out of this horrendous rain before she falls ill?" It was worded like a question but the two guards and myself had little doubt that it was more a demand.
"O-Of course sir! This way, my lady." The two stepped apart and Húrin gestured with his hand for me to go ahead. Gandalf's look of discontent never left his face while passing the two individuals. As I continued down the road leading to the Old Hroldan Inn I realized that the man who had helped me out was still following me. I slowed my steps and turned to face him.
I cleared my throat. "Uhh… Can I help you with anything?"
"You are headed to the Hroldan Inn, yes?" He inquired, not quite answering my question.
"Yes, why do you ask?"
"I do believe it is time we met properly. However, I'd prefer to not draw too much attention out here so we shall talk at the inn." Gandalf said, continuing down the road. I stood still for a moment before realizing I should keep up.
Once we got inside the inn, the smell of alcohol overwhelmed me. The sound of men's loud laughter and obnoxious yelling was enough to make me regret walking through the door. Gandalf had disappeared into the crowd, no doubt trying to find a place to sit and converse without being capsized by large drunk men whose sense of balance had long left them. I finally spotted the old man sitting at a secluded table near the back of the inn. I quickly made my way over to him, weaving my way through the abhorrent bodies bustling about the tavern, but not after having been knocked into a few too many times.
Breathing a sigh of relief upon finally reaching the table, I dropped down into the chair adjacent the old man, allowing my hood to fall from my face.
With a smirk ever growing on his face, the man bowed his head to me, but his eyes never left my face. "It is a pleasure to meet you at last Ms. Astrid Greythane, I am Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey, and I do believe I have a proposition for you." He finished, his smirk having become a smile while a look of bewilderment crossed my features. What had I gotten myself into?
Author's Note: Hi guys, I appreciate you having read through this chapter. I'm kind of new to this whole writing thing, so reviews are always encouraged. I would love to have some feedback, tell me what you think! Was it good? Was it bad? Need to change some things? Constructive criticism always helps. Again, thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it, let me know if you would like for me to continue this story. See you next time!