I do not own any of the characters or The Hobbit (Just the AU storyline and my OC). Those are the work of the esteemed and brilliant John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, and without his genius, this and many other fanfics would not be in existence.
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elleth- elf woman
Ellon- elf man
Ranga- unit of elf measurement (about 3 foot 6" imperial, about 1.07 m)
Natha-nin- Help me!
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The young elf warrior stood beside his mentor proudly. Outwardly, his expression was stoic, but inside, he was brimming with excitement. This was a very important day for the elven youth. For the first time in his life, he was going to patrol the borders of his king's realm, alongside the other marchwardens and patrolmen.
For an entire moon! The elated adolescent thought to himself. I get to be out in the trees, protecting these borders alongside Erestor, for a whole moon! He resisted the urge to grin, fearing that it would betray his youthfulness to the rest of the squad he was assigned to. He was nearing his full height, if not his majority, and did not want anyone to think him a child.
He discreetly glanced at the king, who stood off to the side of the squad formations. The tall ellon's face was stern, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he surveyed the assignments. King Thranduil leaned over and whispered to one of the marchwardens, who proceeded to tap on the shoulder of one of his patrols. The elleth in question nodded, and switched places with an ellon in another squad. As his eyes followed her, his heart sank.
He's putting her in my squad.
The youth knew that elleths could fight just as well as ellons, if they had not yet borne a child that is. There were several patrol elleths that were very, very skilled at protecting the king's realm from danger and intruders. But still, the move irritated him, and he could not help but feel that the switch had been made because of his youth. The king was very strategic when making patrol assignment rosters, and not a single one of those standing in the Entrance Hall were by chance.
"Why did he do that?" he muttered under his breath. "I don't need a nursemaid." Erestor shot him a sidelong glare, and the young ellon shut his mouth.
"Shh!" the junior captain next to him hissed. The youth barely resisted shooting him a glare as well. He stood there sulking inwardly as the rest of the orders were given to the new patrol rotation.
The patrols began to head out, some on horses, and others on foot. Those on horses would relieve the current patrol guarding the huts of the raft-elves, having need of the beasts in order to sufficiently guard the road that brought supplies from the raft-elf huts to the subterranean palace. The rest were on foot, some sullen-faced as they faced a march of many days to relieve those guarding the furthest reaches of the Elven Kings' borders. To be one of the king's patrols was an honor, but no one really wanted to march that far if they didn't have to.
Luckily, the youth's own patrol would not take them too far from the palace. He tried to recall exactly where they were going, but could not remember. Suddenly, he realized why.
I was talking when they were giving out our patrol's orders, he thought to himself, feeling a bit sheepish. He started listening to the others intently in the hopes that he would catch their assignment so he didn't look like a fool. Unfortunately, no one spoke of their assignment as his squad marched out of the Entrance Hall and into the wood.
Despite his internal insistence on being treated like a full-grown ellon, the young elf could not hide the wonder he felt as he gazed upon the majestic beeches and oaks around them. Some of the trees were ancient, predating even his own birth a mere seventy years ago. Their wide, gnarled trunks rose high, splitting into many twisted branches even thicker than the trunks of other, younger trees. The sunlight glowed through the bright green leaves, casting the forest below in a slightly greenish light.
He had heard the forest was darker outside of the borders of their realm. Some said it was an unnatural darkness stemming from a horrible place, but everyone refused to tell him what that place was, and why it caused the forest to be so dark that Men named it Mirkwood. A slight shudder went through him at the thought. Elves did not like darkness. They loved light, especially starlight.
He refocused his mind on the present. He did not want to think about the future. He wanted to bask in the here and now, to smell the musty scent of the damp leaves below his feet, hear the birds singing in the trees as they called to one another in their tongue. He had heard that some elves learned to speak the tongues of birds and beasts, but he had not yet learned this skill. He hoped he would someday. For now, he would content himself with their unintelligible, yet lovely music instead.
His eyes took in everything, from the stones of the earth, to the bees buzzing as they crawled inside flower petals, searching for the nectar that would sustain them and create sweet honey in their hives. But it was the trees he was most drawn to. What memories did they hold? Did they speak? Perhaps in time, he would learn to speak to them as well. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could hear the stones speak someday too!
He really wanted to climb up into the trees and see the world from above the ground. But the squad kept on marching, much to his frustration. As the hours of marching grew, so did his impatience. Finally, he spoke up.
"Warden?" he asked. The eyes of everyone in his squad turned toward him, and he suddenly felt a bit apprehensive. He hated confrontation. But he really wanted to climb a tree. He had never been allowed to do so before. Every time he'd been in the woods, he had never been given the chance to climb a tree. His father was far too diligent and focused in his tasks to pause and enjoy the greenery, much to the young elf's sadness.
"What is it?" Marchwarden Erestor asked, cocking an eyebrow. The youth wasn't intimidated. Well, maybe he was. Just a little. But his desire to climb outweighed the intimidation he felt, and he stood tall and squared his shoulders.
"I would like to climb a tree and scout our path ahead," he stated firmly, hoping that his seeming attention to the needs of the patrol would mask his childish desire. A few muffled snickers sounded behind him, and his irritation grew, along with a bit of embarrassment. Erestor looked at him for a moment, before turning toward his second-in-command.
"Captain Eluríel," he commanded. "You, and those under you, shall stay and teach our young charge how to scout from the boughs. I shall go ahead of you with the others, and make sure our path is clear from the ground." The youth bristled at the 'young charge' comment, but remained silent. No doubt the marchwarden was trying to get a rise out of him.
Still, he had won. For the first time in his life, he was going to climb a tree! He glanced around, trying to pick which one he wished to bestow this honor upon, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he looked at Captain Eluríel. It did not escape his notice that she was the one his father reassigned to the patrol.
"That one looks like it would be a good choice," she suggested, pointing to an old oak tree. "There is a good handhold about halfway between the ground and that branch. See?" He followed her gaze, and saw the tree and handhold in question. She was right. It was the perfect handhold, and he would only have to jump a half-ranga to reach it.
The youth stood up straight, subtly checking to make sure his quiver was on tight. Last thing he needed was for his quiver to shift as he jumped, and knock his arrows around. Taking a (hopefully silent) deep breath, he approached the tree, keenly aware that the four elves standing behind him were watching him intently. It irked him, and he was determined to show them that he could climb trees with just as much agility and grace as they could. He jumped up and grasped the small opening in the tree with ease.
After all, I'm an el- His eyes grew wide as he heard a strange sound. He didn't have time to react to it, however, as a very angry chipmunk suddenly burst forth- right in his face. The startled youth shrieked in surprise, and careened back down toward the forest floor with all the grace of a mûmak on a frozen lake. He keenly felt the bite of hard tree roots on his backside, and cried out in pain.
The furious creature chittered so loudly that it nearly deafened his sensitive ears. The stupid rodent scampered all over body, digging its claws into every last bit of exposed flesh and parts of his tunic that were not covered by the leather jerkin he wore. Every time he thought he had it, it would rush just out of reach onto his back. Uproarious laugher sounded, and he cried out in anger.
"Natha-nin!" he cried out. His pleas fell on deaf ears as Eluríel and his patrol-mates laughed even harder. All four of them had tears in their eyes, and Eluríel and another were doubled over as they clutched their sides.
"I thought you were a wise, skillful ellon!" one of them cried. "Scouting ahead in the tree!"
"You just wanted to climb it, little ellon!" another cried.
The youth shot them a glare, when suddenly the world went dark. A muffled cry sounded as the chipmunk bit his nose, and the young elf felt blood pour down his face. The rodent then proceeded to cling to his hair and ears, thoroughly blinding him. The 'little ellon' found himself stumbling over rocks and roots he could not see, and he spat out a slew of curses that would have made his aunt tan his hide had she heard them.
"Get this thing off me!" he shouted, cursing as he tripped over what could only be a rock. At least, he thought it was a rock. It must have been a rock- right? Nope- he heard the sound of bark scraping off a branch. He turned to step the other way, clawing at the incorrigibly stubborn (and now furious and frightened) chipmunk, when suddenly he tripped again.
As his knee made contact with what was most definitely a rock this time, the young elf cursed again. Yelling in frustration, he finally got a good hold on the offending rodent- only for the damn thing to bite his hand. Twice.
"I don't know who you are, or where you came from," he shouted, not caring if the animal understood him or not. "Get off my damn face, you little bastar—AAH!" His feet went out from underneath him, and the youth fell arse first into a muddy puddle. As the cold water seeped through his trousers, the chipmunk finally loosened its grip on his hair and ear. Suddenly, there was light again, and the now very mortified (and extremely angry) elf watched as the little bastard raced over to the tree and scurried back up to its home.
"You rotten, filthy little—" he began, when the chipmunk cut him off. The tiny beast looked him dead in the eye, chittered angrily and emphatically once more, then turned and climbed back into that 'convenient handhold', which he now knew was its home.
***
Legolas could not help the slight blush that came over his cheeks as the remaining members of the Fellowship howled with laughter. Frodo grinned as he looked over at Sam, and Gimli was nearly falling over himself as tears came out of his own eyes.
"Y-you!" he cried breathlessly, pointing at the elven prince. "You mean to tell me that orcs couldn't take you down. Wargs, oliphants, even cave trolls and a balrog couldn't take you down…but a chipmunk defeated you?!" The laughter grew louder, and Legolas grinned. He wasn't nearly as embarrassed now as he had been then.
"Yes, my friend," he admitted. "That chipmunk proved to be a worthy opponent." Sam shook his head.
"Well, I'll be," he remarked, clearly astonished. "Who would have thought a chipmunk would defeat an elf?" Pippin looked at Legolas inquisitively.
"What happened to the chipmunk?" he asked. Legolas shrugged.
"I do not know," he replied. "I imagine he lived to a ripe old age, because I cannot imagine anything or anyone could possibly defeat that little wretch!" Aragorn chuckled, before leaning over and whispering into Legolas's ear.
"Hannon le, mellon-nin," he said gratefully. "I was nervous about the wedding tomorrow, and your tale has given me a light heart again." The elf prince looked at his friend, and companion to many adventures, and nodded.
"I still don't get it," Pippin piped up again. "How can a chipmunk be faster than you? You are faster than anyone I've ever seen!" The elf grinned.
"Well, my good hobbit," he replied, a twinkle in his eye. "Now you know how I developed such fast reflexes!"
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Don't forget to check out my historical fiction novel (19th century America) on Amazon! Look up Amazing Grace Amanda Longpre' and it will take you right to it! Happy reading! :D :D :D