So it is National Storytelling Week in my country and I figured it would be a good idea to post the first chapter of my new LotR fanfic!
I felt that Traitor of Camp Half-Blood and Ravenclaw Misadventures (my Percy Jackson and Harry Potter fics) weren't getting many views, so I decided to try this!
Please read, hope you enjoy!
-Silverhand9028
I woke at dawn. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I glanced round my room, within the Last Homely House East of the Sea, Rivendell.
A window overlooked the gentle river down in the valley, and bookcases lined the walls. I stood and looked at the faint pink glow of the sun dawning from the mountains in the East, close to breaking over the morning mists.
Wasting no time, I dressed myself in a long elven robe, then a hooded cloak over the top, which I fastened with a golden chain. After pulling on a pair of black boots, I approached a full-length mirror by the doorway and examined myself.
I saw an elf with a smooth, fair face and golden hair, hanging down before my shoulders. My eyes had the shape and colour of two finely roasted almonds, and I was dressed regally. The finishing touch – a finely crafted circlet of curved silver – was placed upon my brow as I turned and left the room.
It was beginning to slightly lighten up as I walked across Rivendell. Every step was well practiced; smooth, deliberate strides, neat and perfect. Continuing this delicate stroll, I calmly paced along a white bridge over a waterfall. This was the way of walking we elves had been taught – my head held high, my legs tracing the ground in light, elegant steps.
Finally, I saw the staircase that led to the entrance of Rivendell. Quickening my delicate pace, I reached the bottom of the steps where six other elves were standing.
"Caelyr," I was greeted with a soft whispery voice.
I nodded at the beautiful elf that had spoken. Her hair was long and dark, framing a pale yet beautiful face.
"Sehnae," I replied, greeting her with a polite nod of the head.
"We are all here, I believe," the woman replied. "Remember what I have told you. Swift as a songbird, light as a feather."
"Swift as a songbird, light as a feather," we chorused in unison.
"Good. Remember to be graceful, to be elegant. You must show these Hobbits what elves can do. To them, elves are perfect. Elves are perfect."
Her dark eyes washed over us. "Perfect…"
"Mistress Sehnae," a voice called. I looked to see an elven lookout at the top of the steps. "The hobbits are approaching."
"Good," Sehnae replied, her voice as smooth as silk, "you may go now. Elves, go to your positions."
Nodding, we six elves (excluding Sehnae) all gathered into two lines of three, on either side of the steps. I was in the middle right, between my two friends, Amatria and Lylith.
Amatria had a rare shade of red hair, long and wavy, with brown eyes and pale skin. Lylith's hair was dark, and even longer than her companions. They both wore similar dresses and cloaks.
With a subtle smile to each of them, I stood in line as a cart trundled into view, approaching the valley of Imladris.
The hobbits.
The cart neared our steps. Us six, on either side of the staircase, nodded our heads towards the hobbits in unison, whilst Sehnae walked elegantly down the steps, head held high.
"Greetings from Rivendell," she smiled, spreading her hands with great care and grace.
"Mistress Sehnae," the hobbit driving the cart hopped down and bowed low. He was a hairy fellow, with bushy eyebrows and bare feet.
"You must be Robbett," Sehnae smiled in the hobbit's language. Luckily, I spoke it quite well too. She shook the hobbit's hand; it was quite an amusing sight to see the tall, gracious elf with the dumpy little hobbit.
"We have all you asked for, Mistress," the hobbit nodded. "Potatoes, vegetables, wine, honey…"
"Thank you, Robbett," Sehnae's soft voice rippled through Rivendell as she dismissed the elf with a wave of her hand. "Caelyr, Lylith, Amatria. Take the potato and lettuce sacks here."
In perfect unison, we three approached the cart, stepping lightly and plucking the sacks delicately from the arms of the other hobbits.
I saw a second hobbit, with a mass of curly blonde hair, passing me a second sack.
Nodding secretively, I took the second sack as delicately as possible.
"Caelyr." I heard the gentle voice of Sehnae, with an icy tone to it, speaking in Elvish. "What is in that sack?"
I fumbled for an idea in my head. "…Potatoes, Mistress Sehnae," I replied.
Sehnae's eyes examined me, and I held up my head, trying to look as graceful as possible.
"Very well," her honey-sweet voice whispered.
I took both sacks and, with a deliberate sweep of my cloak, took slow, elegant steps away from the cart.
As we left, Sehnae smiled to the hobbits. "Thank you for doing business with us," she smiled, and her dark eyes twinkled with dark satisfaction.
Amatria, Lylith and I were at the other end of Rivendell when the sun finally reached out over the mountains.
We walked in a perfect line, our feet barely touching the ground. If we were to walk on snow, we would leave no marks. If we were to walk on thin ice, it would not break. If we were to walk on mud, our boots would not dirty.
We passed by the tall spires and ornate curves of Rivendell's grand buildings as we approached the rock face. Here, crystal waterfalls tumbled down the valley to the river. We stopped by one small building, a storehouse, were we deposited some of the sacks, yet secretly keeping others; including the one full of 'potatoes' I had taken from the other Hobbit.
We left the storehouse and walked on, towards the grandest, tallest waterfall in Imladris.
"We are here," I proclaimed.
We stepped up to the waterfall. With our enhanced elven senses, we glanced around to check for anyone watching us. "All clear."
Amatria gently held out her hand to the waterfall. The water splashed on it, as she whispered: "Panta tangwa": elfish for 'Unlock'.
Magic lingered in the air, as the sheet of falling water parted like curtains, revealing a tunnel cut into the rock. Smiling, we walked side by side into the cave, as the sliding doors of falling water closed behind us.
"Sehnae is getting more irritating every time the hobbits come," I remarked.
"Indeed," nodded Amatria, "she seems intent on building some kind of barrier between us and the hobbits."
"She is such a saurar," muttered Lylith – an Elven insult.
"To be fair, we do get paid a lot by her," Amatria reasoned, "All we have to do is act graceful in front of the Hobbits."
"I don't see why it's so important to put up this façade," I murmured, in angry agreement, as we trooped down the tunnel, "the Hobbits already know the elves as powerful, wise and magical. Why does she need six of us dancing round every time they trade us food, just to show off how much more graceful elves are?"
"Fair or not, it's our job," Amatria shrugged.
It was then that we reached our secret pantry.
Our pantry has the same arched ceiling as a hobbit's; only it's much wider. There are drapes on the wall to cover up the rough stone of a valley cave.
Also lining the walls are shelves, stacked with food. Lembas bread and potatoes, beans and eggs. Drinks too – jugs of ale, of honey wine and Elven miruvor.
And meat.
Not tolerated by our kin, meat is smuggled in by certain hobbits in potato snacks, collected by us. There's nothing wrong with salad. It just gets boring.
And Amatria, Lylith and I are not known for our obedience.
No one knows about the meat, or the pantry. And no one knows what we always do every day.
I hung my cloak on a hanger and then removed my robes; for underneath I had a leather jerkin, with elven mail and a pair of long boots.
Adjusting my diadem, I opened the sack of 'potatoes' and took out what definitely weren't potatoes.
"Here we are," I told the girls, "some mutton, a bit of bacon – oh, and I think these are sausages."
"I've got some bread and some pork in this one," Lylith presented another sack, "and some ale, some more bacon, and a bit of honey."
"I have cheese, bread, sausages," Amatria told us. "And I think this is wine. But it smells odd."
Lylith took a whiff and made a face.
"Well," I took three horns, hollowed out for drinking from. "I fancy a drink!"
I filled each horn with some hobbit mead, and handed them out.
"A toast," proclaimed Lylith. "Live like an elf, eat like a hobbit!"
There you go, hope you liked this! Also, hello to Jess and Emily, whom Amatria and Lylith are based on :)
-Silverhand9028