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Disclamer: I do not own anything of Tolkein's!

Yay the story!

Chapter 3

With an elaborate pin tucked in my hair, I ran quickly as my pigtails bounced up and down vivaciously. "Catch me!" I yelled happily to a boy about my age.

The child seemed hesitant, "Wouldn't your mother be mad if you dress got dirty?"

I looked down at my yellow attire and I shrugged half-heartedly, not answering his question, "So are you going to catch me or not?"

The boy, Ormois, never ignoring a challenge took to chasing me around the green field. The day was cheery and the laughter covered the air in a sweet layer of honey. Why couldn't all days be like that?

"Gotcha," the boy tapped me on the shoulder, sending me into a fit of giggles. Oromis just smiled as the sky changed from blue to amethyst; while the late summer fireflies buzzed around our heads giving us a small symphony. "Do you want to take a walk with me?" he asked, holding out his arm like a true gentlemen. I simply nodded and took his arm, as we walked on a small path near the forest. "Kind of weird, huh?" he asked me as we both stared into the woods.

"What's weird Oromis?" I said reiterating his question.

"It's so nice out here, while in there," he pointed towards the thick brush, "It's so dreary."

My curiosity was gnawing at me again, but after my father's death I didn't want to hear about the Wood people. I sighed and asked about the subject anyway, "Have you ever seen one? An Elf, I mean."

"Oh goodness no, nor do I want to," he said, a hint of terseness in his voice. He pulled my arm and started to walk again, but my eyes were transfixed on the trees. That world was so concrete and at the same time so dubious and enigmatic. Consequently, my thoughts pulled me away from reality and I fell. The wound on my knee was one of sight, not of feeling; and the vision of a sharp rock embedded in my knee sent me into a fit of avaricious tears.

I fell to the ground and started to cry as my lip quivered, "Mommy!"

"Shh, shh," Oromis hushed me. "Let me help you!" his hand reached for my injured knee.

"No, don't touch it!" I yelled in anguish.

"Please, l-let m-me," Oromis grew deathly silent, as a boy alien to us stepped out from the darkness of the Wood.

My selfish cries dissipated, but the horror in my mind and heart grew, that boy was no human he was,

"An Elf," my friend gasped, his throat becoming dry while looking dumbstruck at the fair being; and fair he was. His hair was tied back, while strands of gold fell delicately onto his pale face and his eyes were simply striking. The Elven boy seemed to stare at me for a few nonchalant moments before awarding a glare at Oromis that could shake mountains. My good friend, the boy that I liked and knew, was also a coward: he ran away as quickly as he could--leaving me behind.


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