Pippin: This is boring.
Merry: Yeah, when are Hobbits gonna be in it?
Me: This is a story about an Elf not a Hobbit! (Sighs and keeps writing)
(Pippin and Merry whisper to each other: Kind of touchy, isn't she. They walk back over to where Sam and Frodo are reading the fic and start reading to see if it gets interesting.)
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On midsummer's eve in the year of 2942, an Elf, a prince from Mirkwood, came to Rivendell for a time. This Elf 's name was Legolas and he and I became good friends. He taught to me the secret of the bow and he taught me how to shoot to perfection. He was not as old as I was but we would often be found walking together on the grounds near the water falls of Rivendell. Arwen (Elrond's daughter and Galadriel's granddaughter) would join us sometimes. It was in that year that I could start to feel the darkness, somehow I just could. I kept these things to myself because I thought it would make me look weird in front of Elrond. Many years passed. Gandalf the Grey would visit Rivendell often. Rivendell was were I first met him. He reminded me of Galadriel for some reason. We all learned to love him dearly.
Time passed swiftly. Darkness now crept back into the world with great speed; there was an unnamed fear, a shadow that grew in the dark places of the world. My visits to Bree grew more frequent on the account that I wanted to learn as much as I could of the things of the world outside Rivendell. Bree is were I meet my first Hobbit. Nob Whitfoot, the second cousin to the mayor of Michel Delving (a Hobbit town) Will Whitfoot. Nob told me all the things that happened in the Shire. I was amazed at all of the Hobbits that I saw because I had always thought that I was short because Elves are usually seven foot tall or taller but I was only five foot and three inches but now that I saw these Hobbit who were only three foot six or shorter, I felt tall. Their curly, brown heads amazed me most because I was used to being around blonde or white-headed Elves and almost all of them had a darker hair colour than even dirty blonde. Their feet did startle me though, I had never seen such feet. But let me move on.
One day on midsummer's eve, in the year 3001, I saw Gandalf again. He was headed towards the Shire and I begged him to let me go too. He kindly took me aside and said to me, 'No, my dear. Anodien, you like some people I know long to find out everything you can before it is your time to know. You will get to go to the Shire one day but not today. Not today.' He paused and looked into my eyes. 'Do you understand what I am saying?' 'Yes, Mirthrandir.' I replied. ' Good. Farewell, Anodien. Remember, el sila.' Then he kissed my cheek and set out singing a song that I had never heard before.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
I stood in the road with the wind blowing my hair. I stood thinking about what Gandalf had said. El sila. A star shines. Maybe a star shines but is it mine? I looked at the setting sun and wondered, 'Where is my star? And if I have one, how will I find it? No, Mirthrandir. I don't understand. How can I? I am only a child of an Elf who will never grow up. How can you say a star shines when it is clear that I will never amount to anything?' I bowed my head and then I slowly walked back to my room. When I got there I opened the door that led to the balcony and stood there gazing at the stars. I sighed and walked back into my room and shut the door behind me. I pulled a small necklace out of a box under my bed. I looked at it and then I slowly undid the clasp and hung it upon my neck. To anyone else they would have said that it was an ugly piece of junk and tossed it out, but to me it was more valuable than mithril. It had been my mother's. I took it off and then began to clean it, gently rubbing off years of dust and rust until it shone again like the moon on a clear winters night. I again put it on. It rested neatly in the hollow of my throat. Tears sprang up in my eyes and I cried myself to sleep.