Revised on December 26, 2014
One hundred and seventy one years later, I stood overlooking a land called the Shire. Much had happened in my years spent away from home. I travelled with a group of rangers until a year or so ago; they are a wise folk, somber and grave, but loyal and fierce all the same. They are descended from the kings of Gondor who lived long before even my brother was born.
I banished the thought of my brother from my head, which is what I had been doing for the last century or so. It was all I could do to keep from going home to see Legolas again, but I know that my father waits there with him, so I stay away. Many years ago, I passed too close to the edge of the Greenwood and was turned away by my kin, who warned me against entering the woods again.
In all my time with the rangers, there was only one who I truly befriended. He went by the name of Arathorn, and we fought together for many years. But as all good things do, our time together ended. All the rangers I once knew, except for Arathorn and a few others, have passed on. Even he went away, for his wife bore him a son, whose form seems to gleam with a reverent light whether in light or darkness. This boy was christened Aragorn, and now looks older than I, though I remain two centuries his elder.
Despite my age, I still possessed the looks of a very young elf. Even my height was stunted; I looked more like a dwarf than an elf. I stood at a little over five feet in height, something unheard of for elves, who towered over the other races.
I had met none that could help me, but there was one I thought might. This one was Lord Elrond of Rivendell, who coincidentally has been absent both times I had travelled to Imladris.
The sound of laughter reached my ears and I smiled, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. The hobbit folk, from what I had seen, were quite a merry people. I had not heard of them before joining the rangers, and now I was quite eager to see them.
The Shire, which was their home, was lovely and pure, untouched by the evils marring the rest of the world. The rolling hills were blanketed in bright green grass, and small homes were dug into the hillsides, adorned with flowerbeds, gardens, and round, colorful doors. The Halflings moved here and there, pulling their animals along with them or farming their land. My horse Athelas passed on many years ago, but I now cared for a strong stallion by the name of Gwairoch, named after the legendary elven steeds of old. He currently stood next to me, nuzzling the ground for something to eat.
"A fine day, don't you think?" A deep voice asked, interrupting my thoughts. I turned my head, not allowing my drawn hood to reveal my pointed ears.
"Aye," I answered, taking a deep breath. "It is quite beautiful."
The old man slid off his horse, stroking her neck softly before moving to stand next to me. "If you don't mind me asking," the old man commented lightly, pulling out a pipe. "What is the princess of the Greenwood doing in the Shire?"
I froze and snuck a glance at the man from behind my hood. He was old and grey, clad in gray robes with a blue hat atop his head. His bright eyes were fixed on me, and his long beard trembled with concealed mirth.
"Mithrandir!" I exclaimed, leaping forward and hugging the old wizard tightly.
He laughed jovially and patted my back with one hand. The top of my head barely came up to his chest. "My dear princess, it is a pleasure to see you again," he said happily as I pulled away. "It has been a long time, Aeyera," he said, smiling. A slightly concerned look crossed his face as he took in my young features. "Nearly two hundred years have passed since our last meeting, haven't they?"
I nodded and stepped back to pull my horse away from a hobbit's rather unfortunate rose bush. The conversation was beginning to reach an area I wished to leave untouched. "Yes… it has been a long time."
"And yet still you look like an elf who has barely come of age."
I gritted my teeth. 'As if I wanted to be reminded that I was different. That I looked to be an immature elfling.'
He continued speaking, either oblivious to my discomfort or choosing to ignore it. "I have visited your father several times over the years, Aeyera," the wizard said. I looked away, angered by the wizard's audacity and probing words. "And your brother has asked me quite frequently if there has been any word from you." His voice took on a sharper tone, and I could feel him glaring at me. "I have had to disappoint him far too many times for my liking." I had turned away by now and had moved my gaze back to the Shire. It had not lost its beauty, but I felt somewhat detached now, as if its beauty wasn't for me. "Your family misses you, princess," he said softly.
"What family?" I asked, my voice low and churning with the anger I had tried for two hundred years to hold back. "My brother is my family, and he let me leave. I am grateful that he did, and I am glad to hear he is safe. My mother died when I was very young. My father… he died with my mother. An elf I do not know sits on the throne of Mirkwood, and I owe nothing to him." I all but spat this at min, and the wizard stood, seemingly speechless.
"Why haven't you grown?" the old man asked, effectively changing the subject.
I sighed, rubbing my forehead. I had wondered that for seventeen decades and had never received an answer, and I asked the same question every day about my height. "I don't know," I said wearily, turning from the Shire. It had lost its charm, and the Grey Havens still called to me. I pulled myself onto my horse and turned him towards the sea.
"And where do you think you're going?" the wizard called after me, sounding amused. The sun beat down on me, making sweat trickle down my neck. I threw my hood back, enjoying the sudden breeze.
"It does not matter," I replied, not bothering to look back.
"Do not walk away from me, elfling," he said, his voice taking on a much more sinister tone. I leapt off the horse and turned to face him, furious at the degrading term he used to refer to me. "Why do you continue to wander the wild?" he asked. "To never stay in one place? Most elves your age have found their One; why haven't you?"
I stepped back, hurt, and felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "It's not as if I have a home! I do not have something I was meant to do, like Legolas! I am not a warrior, nor one who has a trade!" I shouted at him. Turning my grief into anger was something I was good at by now. "My family does not care about me! I have nowhere to go! No one wants to love someone like me!" At this point, my voice was closer to a shriek than it had ever been.
"My young elf," the old man said, not unkindly, bending down to meet my eye. "What ever happened to the small child who wanted nothing more than to please her father and to play with her brother, shooting her bow and climbing in the treetops?"
"I don't know," I said, shaking my dark curly hair back and pulling it over my shoulder. "She's gone, I supposed."
"No, I do not think that's it," he said. He smiled gently and placed a gnarled hand on my shoulder. "I think she only got lost. And I think it's high time she is found." I looked at him questioningly. "How would you like to go on an adventure?"
"An adventure?" I repeated, moving out of the way for a young hobbit chasing after a butterfly. His carefree aura made me smile. His bright eyes were wide, a smile stretching across his fair face as he cut across a field.
"Yes," he said seriously, transferring his staff to his other hand. "You need to do something with your life, princess, and like it or not, an adventure would be good for you."
"I don't know, Mithrandir," I said hesitantly, "I don't…"
"You yelled at me quite recently that you wanted a purpose, did you not?" he asked, ignoring the way I flushed with embarrassment. "And now I offer you one. I believe you were one of the few elves to try and help the dwarves of Erebor, were you not?"
My head shot up in surprise. "How did you—?"
"It does not matter how I know," he replied sharply. "But only that I know it."
"What kind of adventure?" I asked, weary of this conversation, which was by far the longest one I had held in several months. His answer shocked me.
"One that will allow the King Under the Mountain to take back Erebor."