Lómerde

Author: Jaime

Rated: PG ( to be safe )

Warning(s): None, really.

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings and its characters are the property of J. R. R. Tolkien. Lómerde is my own creation.

A/N: This is more of something loosely based on Lord of the Rings. Character piece. Oh, Lómerde means "night seed" in Quenyan Elvish.

In the crisp air of autumn he strode along, his footsteps careful yet graceful in the motion of not making sound as he walked along, for the leaves that had fallen to the earth were dry and often crunched under one's feet when walked upon. A sigh fell from those pale colored lips as he came to a stop by a large tree in the garden, eyes of onyx directed up above to watch as a vine vacillated in the gentle winds, swinging to tap the trunk of the tree at times.

A magnificent sight was he, although most of his kind would not notice. His beauty was a subtle one, unlike the other credited elven beauties like Arwen Undómiel, whose beauty was known and praised throughout all elven realms. Then again, he was not a royal lady like the daughter of Lord Elrond, an elven lord who held great jurisdiction and as proof of power owned the Ring of Vilya.

Yet with his long black hair settled simply on his head and those eyes of onyx that held true fidelity in them, for he was brought up to work before play and was naturally so, he was indeed beautiful. If one said that all elves were beautiful, that would be that, but that obviously that one did not try to interact with individual elves, for they all did quite vary. This elf had a slightly more childish look to him, despite his age of over five thousand years. And indeed at times he was docile, eager to obtain new knowledge, like a child yearning to learn new words.

A hand was gently placed on the trunk of the firm tree and he took a step closer to it. Stroking it, as if he would a child's head, he murmured words almost inaudible to the great tree. After a few passing moments of doing so peacefully, another sigh fell from those lips as he wondered why interacting with other elves could not be like having a relationship nature.

It was not that he had a negative opinion of the other elves, for most of them were kind and patient, and in fact, he loved them more than he could ever ( if possible ) hate them. For some reason, he found himself at more ease with nature, since somehow he felt as if he were on probation at times when he was with other elves, as if he were a failure and needed to repeatedly take the same test. He felt dubious at himself for thinking such things, for doubting his own kind when he surely need that was not made him think of what kind of a person he was.

If only he could have some ratiocination in social situations. A cool and calm mind would definitely be help, and maybe possibly the solution to the problem, although not a permanent method to solving it. Well, it was no use simply thinking of such matters when you cannot put them into action.

All these thoughts ran through his head as he lay his palm against the rough bark of the tree. Then, a falling leaf caught his attention, and he raised his gaze upwards, entranced as he watched the colored leaf leave the branches above and dance down to the earth. He extended his open hand out, letting the leaf flutter down to settle in his open hand. He gazed at it as silent moments passed.

"Lómerde!"

At the sound of his name being called in the distance, his line of sight shifted from the sight of the leaf on his palm to the direction in which the voice came from. He was being called away from his solitary time with nature and into the circle of civilization again. As his name was called again, he shifted his gaze from the leaf to the voice. Then, picking up the little leaf, he kissed it, and let it fall from his grasp to join its own below. Taking a deep breath, he stepped away from the great tree.

"I'm coming."

The End.