(Hello everyone!!! Now this here, this is just a prologue, needed to get to know the character and I decided to do it now, rather than it little chunks, the next chapter will be shorter and sweet. This isn't, like, essential to the story, but it's about the character so- your choice, you can just skip to chapter one- that's where all the info is like disclaimers and stuff.)
She didn't look as though she could hold up to the rough life.
She was quite short, just over 5'2, and she had a gorgeous face, completely unblemished and with that glow of youth about her, even now, when she was partly covered in dirt from her weeks of travelling.
Her hair was a rich, golden shade of blonde and she had been told since she was a girl that her hair was like spun gold or sunshine made solid.
Her brown eyes were round and wide and always curious, and very expressive; they always seemed to have a sparkle to them, something hidden away from the rest of the world.
The few who knew her well barely needed words to ask how she was feeling- her eyes always told the true story.
She cleared away her plate and sat back, gazing into the fire. She was glad she had passed this little knot of trees- she didn't fancy sleeping out in the open, knowing the way things were now. This little clearing was perfect, just big enough for her and her horse, Greymane, to stay the night and be comfortably struck by the moonlight as it peeped out of the trees, but small enough not to be noticed, unless you were looking, which she knew no-one would.
That little dinner had filled her up quite a lot, considering she had been travelling almost non-stop since just after dawn. She picked up some thin sticks and began to whittle some more arrows for herself, always preferring to keep her supply topped up, whether or not she needed it at the time.
If anyone had found this young girl wrapped up in travellers clothes on her own, in the wild- and what's more surviving easily enough, they would have realised how strange she was, without even speaking to her.
But however odd or out of place she looked, she had been doing this since she was 15, and it was odd, how barely 2 years later, she was already as capable as most grown men, and with none having ever taught her how to survive out here. Most said it was in her blood.
Her father had been like this, always travelling, always waiting to see what was over the horizon. Everyone had thought it was scandalous when her father had left, unknowingly leaving his wife pregnant, and only returning seven years later to find he had a daughter. And then just months after coming home, he was killed, leaving his poor child alone in the world. However, when his daughter grew up to be 'just as bad as her father', most folks of the town of Gwendil thought much less of her, deeming her a trouble maker. They didn't like anyone different from themselves. But she didn't care- Why did it matter? She was never there anyway. She had a few close friends who she loved dearly, and they were all she needed whenever she was in Gwendil.
They knew her as being such a sensitive person, always ready to talk, and always more willing to listen to your problems, and do whatever she could to make them right. She was passionate about life, about living and was well known to tell people that living was the only thing they would ever do, so they may as well do it as well as possible, and she lived by her words.
She stopped carving her arrows and walked over to Greymane, removing his food bag and gently stroking his nose and staring into the fire again- remembering.
Remembering her childhood spent playing with boys as much as girls, climbing tress and having mud fights- and winning most of the time!
She remembered hearing about the alleged, amazing things her father had done and always dreamed she was away, off with her father on an adventure, doing something remarkable. She imagined staying in the halls of the dwarves, and seeing all that they could make and do. She dreamed she was meeting the elves in the forests, and that she was helping her father make up new songs, worthy to be sung for the elves.
But most of all, she dreamed she would go to see the hobbits one day, even if everyone in Gwendil said they were just a children's tale, told only when children wanted to hear a funny story. But she had always looked deeper than that, she always noticed how underneath it all, the hobbits seemed content and easy going people, unlike the folk she was surrounded by.
That was part of why she longed to go to the Shire! One day, she would have seven meals every day!
The only reason she knew of all these things were from the books she had read. Her father's house was full of maps and history books, and almost all her knowledge was to be found in one room, stacked on dusty shelves forgotten for years.
She learned about the races of middle earth, of their folklore and history, and she loved it all. This of course wasn't to everyone's tastes. A girl of 12 shouldn't be sitting alone learning about elves, she should be learning how to cook properly, to find herself a decent husband when she was older.
But that wasn't what she wanted.
She wandered back next to the fire and absent-mindedly began to clear everything away, lost in her thoughts, yet still listening out for any sounds in the night, other than the movements of small animals and began to clear everything away- thinking of how she got here.
She had always been different; more curious, more mature, more adventurous, but once she met some elves when she was fifteen, and came back a few months later, telling only her closest friends about her kidnap and capture, and eventual rescue, she was changed.
After her return, she seemed to know of everything and be grateful for it all. She appreciated everything, from all the friends she adored to the smallest beetle in the grass.
She learned to love the sense of moonlight on her skin, and the feel of a tree, and begun to notice the changes in the air, and see how amazing it was that as she swam, water was all around her, supporting but not constricting her.
The world around her never failed to amaze her anymore- she loved it all. Although she had not enjoyed where she had been to make her see all this, on the whole she was grateful, her respect for the world around her grew, and so did she as a person. The only problem, she thought, was the dreams had been worse.
Ever since she could remember, she had been having dreams, but not normal dreams, these dreams had her waking up in the morning, frantic with worry, or trying to stay awake at night, so she wouldn't have to see. But they weren't always too bad. Sometimes she would dream good things, like the arrival of a new baby, or a good harvest, and sometimes she would awake only to know small things, like that it was going to rain tomorrow, or that today she would find a pink feather in the grass.
But now, her luck had changed. Ever since the first time she left Gwendil, the dreams would be worse, and she would see awful things, in worlds she didn't know existed.
The first time this ever happened was when she was 6 and she dreamt she saw her friend breaking her leg, and the next day- he friend fell down a rocky hill. But she had seen worse than that, much worse and now all she could do was to go bed and ignore her worries about what she might see.
She snapped out of her thoughts, and lay down on her back, wrapping her blankets around her. She lay there for a while, taking everything around her in.
She looked up at the stars, tiny white pinpricks in the dark, inky sky. She now thought about how it was amazing that the stars were there, and everyone could see them even though they were so far away. This often came to her when she was alone at night, away from everyone else she knew. She loved that she was lying here looking at them, yet miles away, no matter where, from all over middle-earth others could see what she was seeing, and perhaps feel this, almost sense of peace too.
This was why she left Gwendil so often and this is why she didn't care if no-one there liked her. She fell asleep wondering who else was looking at the night sky, and why.
----------*----------
Far away in a hobbit hole under the hill at Bag-End, someone was thinking along the same lines as her.
Frodo Baggins stood looking out the round window at the peaceful village below him. Now that almost all the lights in Hobbiton had been put out; most of the houses were just dark shapes, lit only by the moonlight peeping out from the clouds.
Stepping outside and sitting on the doorstep, he too looked up at the stars. He felt so desperately miserable, knowing he was leaving soon, never to sit here again. Nothing had been the same since Bilbo had left, but now, he was dreading leaving so much more all of a sudden.
Gently touching the chain around his neck and moving his hands down to the ring at the end- he wondered if the stars would look the same, if he didn't see them from Bag-End. How far would he have to go?
He'd always wanted to do something exciting like Bilbo. Sighing he turned and went inside- he need to rest, there was still a lot of preparations to be made.
He needed to make ready to leave Bag-End, and Hobbtion, and find out for himself if the stars would look the same.
*
**
***
**
*
See in you in the next chapter- hope you enjoyed! I'd love to know what you lot think!!
She didn't look as though she could hold up to the rough life.
She was quite short, just over 5'2, and she had a gorgeous face, completely unblemished and with that glow of youth about her, even now, when she was partly covered in dirt from her weeks of travelling.
Her hair was a rich, golden shade of blonde and she had been told since she was a girl that her hair was like spun gold or sunshine made solid.
Her brown eyes were round and wide and always curious, and very expressive; they always seemed to have a sparkle to them, something hidden away from the rest of the world.
The few who knew her well barely needed words to ask how she was feeling- her eyes always told the true story.
She cleared away her plate and sat back, gazing into the fire. She was glad she had passed this little knot of trees- she didn't fancy sleeping out in the open, knowing the way things were now. This little clearing was perfect, just big enough for her and her horse, Greymane, to stay the night and be comfortably struck by the moonlight as it peeped out of the trees, but small enough not to be noticed, unless you were looking, which she knew no-one would.
That little dinner had filled her up quite a lot, considering she had been travelling almost non-stop since just after dawn. She picked up some thin sticks and began to whittle some more arrows for herself, always preferring to keep her supply topped up, whether or not she needed it at the time.
If anyone had found this young girl wrapped up in travellers clothes on her own, in the wild- and what's more surviving easily enough, they would have realised how strange she was, without even speaking to her.
But however odd or out of place she looked, she had been doing this since she was 15, and it was odd, how barely 2 years later, she was already as capable as most grown men, and with none having ever taught her how to survive out here. Most said it was in her blood.
Her father had been like this, always travelling, always waiting to see what was over the horizon. Everyone had thought it was scandalous when her father had left, unknowingly leaving his wife pregnant, and only returning seven years later to find he had a daughter. And then just months after coming home, he was killed, leaving his poor child alone in the world. However, when his daughter grew up to be 'just as bad as her father', most folks of the town of Gwendil thought much less of her, deeming her a trouble maker. They didn't like anyone different from themselves. But she didn't care- Why did it matter? She was never there anyway. She had a few close friends who she loved dearly, and they were all she needed whenever she was in Gwendil.
They knew her as being such a sensitive person, always ready to talk, and always more willing to listen to your problems, and do whatever she could to make them right. She was passionate about life, about living and was well known to tell people that living was the only thing they would ever do, so they may as well do it as well as possible, and she lived by her words.
She stopped carving her arrows and walked over to Greymane, removing his food bag and gently stroking his nose and staring into the fire again- remembering.
Remembering her childhood spent playing with boys as much as girls, climbing tress and having mud fights- and winning most of the time!
She remembered hearing about the alleged, amazing things her father had done and always dreamed she was away, off with her father on an adventure, doing something remarkable. She imagined staying in the halls of the dwarves, and seeing all that they could make and do. She dreamed she was meeting the elves in the forests, and that she was helping her father make up new songs, worthy to be sung for the elves.
But most of all, she dreamed she would go to see the hobbits one day, even if everyone in Gwendil said they were just a children's tale, told only when children wanted to hear a funny story. But she had always looked deeper than that, she always noticed how underneath it all, the hobbits seemed content and easy going people, unlike the folk she was surrounded by.
That was part of why she longed to go to the Shire! One day, she would have seven meals every day!
The only reason she knew of all these things were from the books she had read. Her father's house was full of maps and history books, and almost all her knowledge was to be found in one room, stacked on dusty shelves forgotten for years.
She learned about the races of middle earth, of their folklore and history, and she loved it all. This of course wasn't to everyone's tastes. A girl of 12 shouldn't be sitting alone learning about elves, she should be learning how to cook properly, to find herself a decent husband when she was older.
But that wasn't what she wanted.
She wandered back next to the fire and absent-mindedly began to clear everything away, lost in her thoughts, yet still listening out for any sounds in the night, other than the movements of small animals and began to clear everything away- thinking of how she got here.
She had always been different; more curious, more mature, more adventurous, but once she met some elves when she was fifteen, and came back a few months later, telling only her closest friends about her kidnap and capture, and eventual rescue, she was changed.
After her return, she seemed to know of everything and be grateful for it all. She appreciated everything, from all the friends she adored to the smallest beetle in the grass.
She learned to love the sense of moonlight on her skin, and the feel of a tree, and begun to notice the changes in the air, and see how amazing it was that as she swam, water was all around her, supporting but not constricting her.
The world around her never failed to amaze her anymore- she loved it all. Although she had not enjoyed where she had been to make her see all this, on the whole she was grateful, her respect for the world around her grew, and so did she as a person. The only problem, she thought, was the dreams had been worse.
Ever since she could remember, she had been having dreams, but not normal dreams, these dreams had her waking up in the morning, frantic with worry, or trying to stay awake at night, so she wouldn't have to see. But they weren't always too bad. Sometimes she would dream good things, like the arrival of a new baby, or a good harvest, and sometimes she would awake only to know small things, like that it was going to rain tomorrow, or that today she would find a pink feather in the grass.
But now, her luck had changed. Ever since the first time she left Gwendil, the dreams would be worse, and she would see awful things, in worlds she didn't know existed.
The first time this ever happened was when she was 6 and she dreamt she saw her friend breaking her leg, and the next day- he friend fell down a rocky hill. But she had seen worse than that, much worse and now all she could do was to go bed and ignore her worries about what she might see.
She snapped out of her thoughts, and lay down on her back, wrapping her blankets around her. She lay there for a while, taking everything around her in.
She looked up at the stars, tiny white pinpricks in the dark, inky sky. She now thought about how it was amazing that the stars were there, and everyone could see them even though they were so far away. This often came to her when she was alone at night, away from everyone else she knew. She loved that she was lying here looking at them, yet miles away, no matter where, from all over middle-earth others could see what she was seeing, and perhaps feel this, almost sense of peace too.
This was why she left Gwendil so often and this is why she didn't care if no-one there liked her. She fell asleep wondering who else was looking at the night sky, and why.
----------*----------
Far away in a hobbit hole under the hill at Bag-End, someone was thinking along the same lines as her.
Frodo Baggins stood looking out the round window at the peaceful village below him. Now that almost all the lights in Hobbiton had been put out; most of the houses were just dark shapes, lit only by the moonlight peeping out from the clouds.
Stepping outside and sitting on the doorstep, he too looked up at the stars. He felt so desperately miserable, knowing he was leaving soon, never to sit here again. Nothing had been the same since Bilbo had left, but now, he was dreading leaving so much more all of a sudden.
Gently touching the chain around his neck and moving his hands down to the ring at the end- he wondered if the stars would look the same, if he didn't see them from Bag-End. How far would he have to go?
He'd always wanted to do something exciting like Bilbo. Sighing he turned and went inside- he need to rest, there was still a lot of preparations to be made.
He needed to make ready to leave Bag-End, and Hobbtion, and find out for himself if the stars would look the same.
*
**
***
**
*
See in you in the next chapter- hope you enjoyed! I'd love to know what you lot think!!