Dire Purpose
Summery: Can a solemn village hold secrets? Can a past be the answer to the present? Can someone fall in love without knowing the consequences?
Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, I own only the characters not mentioned in JRR Tolkien's works.
Prologue
The sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky. The trees moved gently as the southerly wind blew through their canopies.
And me..
Me, lying on the ground staring at the wonderfulness around me. The soft breeze caressing my face, and the sun cuddling me in its warmth.
This is what I can describe as perfection.
It would seem that a child could only describe perfection in this context. That is what I always saw as been perfect. A clear sunny day, with a gentle wind would be perfection in all its glory. How naïve I was!
Well that it how I used to view most things in life. If everyone was blithe, if the weather was perfect, if everything around me was normal, then I was happy.
I was too young then to realise that this perfect life in which I assumed I lived, was all a camouflage of what was happening on the outside.
I didn't know of the war of the ring, when the dark lord Sauron led his army against the joined forces of Middle Earth. I didn't realize that when some elven families left, they were actually leaving to travel to the Grey havens. I never witnessed the painful death as someone died of a broken heart. No, this was all concealed from the children.
As a child I was told happy bright stories, in which fazed my mind into thinking that Middle Earth was peaceful. I witnessed only happiness, as did the other children in my elven village.
As children we believed in which we were told, and we were told that everything was perfect. So that is what we believed.
My Adar (Father) was a farmer of the village. He would collect and plant all the vegetables in which our village would profit from. Then sell to other villages.
My family would help my Adar to farm the land. My Nana (Mother) and I would plant the seeds whilst my brothers would work the ground with my Adar.
I am called Minuial. I am still a child at the age of sixty-seven. Though this can be considered old by human standards, I am still a child. I have not come of age and I won't for many centuries.
I lead a perfect life, away from harm, grief and despair. I am the youngest of my common family. Although I may be young, I know a lot more then I was given credit for.
But most of this isn't important. What is important is what I am trying to establish, my life, the way I live. I am a commoner, an elvish child of the village. I am a commoner, a farmer's child. I am not rich, yet not poor. But despite all these odds. I am happy, I am glad to be living in this peaceful time, this peaceful village and above all I am happy that I feel safe.
Safe.
Well that was how I grew up feeling. That everything was peaceful and perfect. Well I soon reevaluated this predicament when the village in which I lived was destroyed, plundered and left to burn by creatures named Orcs.
By this time I was older, still a child, but not yet old enough to understand what was happening. I was 294yrs old. Yes, still a child.
The villagers fought. Whilst the children were sent into the forest for safety. My family fought against the creatures, whilst I hid in the hidden spot on the outskirts of the village watching it all. I saw the fear, the pain, the suffering, the regret, the sorrow, and above all the anger that was expressed by the villagers.
This shocked me, I was a child and I was seeing all the things all the emotions in which I hadn't been witness to. I was scared.
The small group of children, no older then 500 watched as our village was destroyed, we watched as are families were hurt, and we watched as our family were defeated and murdered.
But we didn't do anything. We never cried out in anguish, we never ran to our families side. We sat still in the bushes as the orcs finished what they had come to our elvish village to do.
They raided our town and left it to burn. And all we did was watch.
What could ten children do? We weren't warriors. We were confused children. Children who had been sent into the forest to hide, when the warriors on watch informed the village of the oncoming threat. We were safety imbedded in a secured spot, before the first arrow flew through the air.
No. We were nothing; we couldn't do a thing because we didn't know what to do.
So instead we waited. We waited till the fires of the fled orcs died and then we searched the debree. Everything was gone. Our homes were destroyed, our valuables stolen or broken and above all the bodies of those we grew to love.
Our village was a small village compared to the other villages of Mirkwood. With barely more then fifty farming families against trained and malicious orcs we stood not a chance.
We children gathered what we could, out of the smoking debree and moved back into the hiding spot.
Each of the children with there own sentiments of our past lives. We gathered what was still in our destroyed homes. Some of the children could find no items still preserved in their homes, so moving onto the next home, they searched the neighboring home.
It still hadn't hit us. We thought this was some strange and bizarre adventure, but it wasn't.
I bent down and picked up the slightly flickering item from the ground of my home.
My mothers necklace. It was a silver-chained necklace with a small black orb as the charm.
My mother loved it. She told me that she received it as a child, but to preserve it she kept it in wooden box. The wooden box long destroyed; I placed the necklace around my neck. I would now keep it.
Then turning I continued to plunder my home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I hope you all enjoyed the prologue. Please review and express what you think so far.
Urebriviel
Summery: Can a solemn village hold secrets? Can a past be the answer to the present? Can someone fall in love without knowing the consequences?
Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, I own only the characters not mentioned in JRR Tolkien's works.
Prologue
The sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky. The trees moved gently as the southerly wind blew through their canopies.
And me..
Me, lying on the ground staring at the wonderfulness around me. The soft breeze caressing my face, and the sun cuddling me in its warmth.
This is what I can describe as perfection.
It would seem that a child could only describe perfection in this context. That is what I always saw as been perfect. A clear sunny day, with a gentle wind would be perfection in all its glory. How naïve I was!
Well that it how I used to view most things in life. If everyone was blithe, if the weather was perfect, if everything around me was normal, then I was happy.
I was too young then to realise that this perfect life in which I assumed I lived, was all a camouflage of what was happening on the outside.
I didn't know of the war of the ring, when the dark lord Sauron led his army against the joined forces of Middle Earth. I didn't realize that when some elven families left, they were actually leaving to travel to the Grey havens. I never witnessed the painful death as someone died of a broken heart. No, this was all concealed from the children.
As a child I was told happy bright stories, in which fazed my mind into thinking that Middle Earth was peaceful. I witnessed only happiness, as did the other children in my elven village.
As children we believed in which we were told, and we were told that everything was perfect. So that is what we believed.
My Adar (Father) was a farmer of the village. He would collect and plant all the vegetables in which our village would profit from. Then sell to other villages.
My family would help my Adar to farm the land. My Nana (Mother) and I would plant the seeds whilst my brothers would work the ground with my Adar.
I am called Minuial. I am still a child at the age of sixty-seven. Though this can be considered old by human standards, I am still a child. I have not come of age and I won't for many centuries.
I lead a perfect life, away from harm, grief and despair. I am the youngest of my common family. Although I may be young, I know a lot more then I was given credit for.
But most of this isn't important. What is important is what I am trying to establish, my life, the way I live. I am a commoner, an elvish child of the village. I am a commoner, a farmer's child. I am not rich, yet not poor. But despite all these odds. I am happy, I am glad to be living in this peaceful time, this peaceful village and above all I am happy that I feel safe.
Safe.
Well that was how I grew up feeling. That everything was peaceful and perfect. Well I soon reevaluated this predicament when the village in which I lived was destroyed, plundered and left to burn by creatures named Orcs.
By this time I was older, still a child, but not yet old enough to understand what was happening. I was 294yrs old. Yes, still a child.
The villagers fought. Whilst the children were sent into the forest for safety. My family fought against the creatures, whilst I hid in the hidden spot on the outskirts of the village watching it all. I saw the fear, the pain, the suffering, the regret, the sorrow, and above all the anger that was expressed by the villagers.
This shocked me, I was a child and I was seeing all the things all the emotions in which I hadn't been witness to. I was scared.
The small group of children, no older then 500 watched as our village was destroyed, we watched as are families were hurt, and we watched as our family were defeated and murdered.
But we didn't do anything. We never cried out in anguish, we never ran to our families side. We sat still in the bushes as the orcs finished what they had come to our elvish village to do.
They raided our town and left it to burn. And all we did was watch.
What could ten children do? We weren't warriors. We were confused children. Children who had been sent into the forest to hide, when the warriors on watch informed the village of the oncoming threat. We were safety imbedded in a secured spot, before the first arrow flew through the air.
No. We were nothing; we couldn't do a thing because we didn't know what to do.
So instead we waited. We waited till the fires of the fled orcs died and then we searched the debree. Everything was gone. Our homes were destroyed, our valuables stolen or broken and above all the bodies of those we grew to love.
Our village was a small village compared to the other villages of Mirkwood. With barely more then fifty farming families against trained and malicious orcs we stood not a chance.
We children gathered what we could, out of the smoking debree and moved back into the hiding spot.
Each of the children with there own sentiments of our past lives. We gathered what was still in our destroyed homes. Some of the children could find no items still preserved in their homes, so moving onto the next home, they searched the neighboring home.
It still hadn't hit us. We thought this was some strange and bizarre adventure, but it wasn't.
I bent down and picked up the slightly flickering item from the ground of my home.
My mothers necklace. It was a silver-chained necklace with a small black orb as the charm.
My mother loved it. She told me that she received it as a child, but to preserve it she kept it in wooden box. The wooden box long destroyed; I placed the necklace around my neck. I would now keep it.
Then turning I continued to plunder my home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I hope you all enjoyed the prologue. Please review and express what you think so far.
Urebriviel