Chapter 3: The Lust of One...

Aignor sighed. This was supposed to be a place where happiness bloomed, where joy and singing were plentiful and always shared, where peace reigned. Undoubtedly, he was very happy here, but there was something missing.

He was exploring through part of a forest, marveling for the umpteenth time at the fantastic beauty of the place. A single golden leaf hung before him on an outstretched branch, and he caressed it. He loved nature, like any other Elf, and he hated to fight. Never had he been in a war in all his life at Middle-earth, and had hardly hunted unless it was absolutely necessary.

Then he saw something he had never seen before in all the Havens. It was a short, slightly fat thing about half his height. It was clambering around on rocks and other places, pausing every now and then to gaze at its surroundings with awe. It was surprisingly nimble for its size.

Aignor tilted his head and watched it with slight amusement. A brilliant white gem hung from its neck on a stunning silver cord. It picked up a small stone, and flung it into a nearby pond, looking delighted at the ripples it caused.

A frog leaped out of the way of the splash and the object, ribbiting a protest. The creature laughed, and Aignor bristled. He arose from where he was relaxing and sauntered over to it.

"Who is it who disturbs the waters of Elenna-uial and its habitants?"

It looked over, slightly surprised that its act was witnessed. Then its face broke into a grin that made Aignor shiver within himself. There was something...wrong with it.

"Frodo Baggins is my name, a Ring-bearer, a Hobbit from Middle-earth." His voice was smooth and gentle, not at all the harsh and mocking tone Aignor had imagined.

"Hobbit?" Aignor had never heard of such.

"Halfling," Frodo explained.

Aignor nodded, understanding. "A Ring-bearer, you say? The One Ring is not what we speak of here..."

"Well, it's destroyed. I destroyed it." Frodo said matter-of-factly.

"Never mind!" cried Aignor. "It matters not whether it is gone or still lurks in the shadows, but it is not spoken of here! Let us talk of other matters."

For a second, Aignor thought he saw a threatening flash in Frodo's eyes, and if he were a wolf, Aignor would have been sure he would be growling angrily. But it was gone in and instant, and later Aignor questioned himself on whether it really happened. Frodo smiled, and it reassured Aignor.

"Then, let us! Who are you, may I ask?"

"My name is Aignor Fellfire. I was an Elf of Rivendell when I lived in Middle-earth. I sailed across the Sea in the second age."

Frodo nodded, saying, "Pleased to meet you, Aignor Fellfire. How is it like here?"

"Wonderful," Aignor replied automatically. Then he added, as an afterthought, "But for me, there is something...missing."

"What? Is this not paradise?" The grin on the Halfling's face grew broader, and Aignor tried not to think about the hidden malice in it.

"True, it is..." Aignor struggled to explain. "And yet my soul is troubled."

Then there was a strange glint in Frodo's eyes, and he fingered the white jewel he bore. "I shall be exploring this beautiful world, then..." he said, and his voice was faint and distant.

Aignor watched him go with suspicion. He shook his head and whistled for his horse, Opaleye. The white horse came, mane flying, dark opal eyes from which he was named dancing. The golden streak running from his nose to his tail was more obvious in the shining light of the sun.

The Elf mounted on him, bareback as befits most Elves, and they rode off. On the way Aignor looked to the left, and thought he saw a twinkling white light, as if sparkling off a crystal. But then it disappeared, and Aignor shook his head. He whispered to his horse, and they sprung on, towards the new day.