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Winging It in Middle-earth: A Hatchling's Adventure (Lord of the Rings Dragon Self Insert)

Thread starter Mike-Schachter Start date Nov 3, 2024 Tags lord of the rings reincarnation self insert self insert gandalf sauron smaug crackfic dragon dragon si magic si/oc tolkien

Winging It in Middle-earth: A Hatchling's Adventure (Lord of the Rings Dragon Self Insert)

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Nov 3, 2024

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CHAPTER 1

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Nov 3, 2024

CHAPTER 2

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Nov 11, 2024

CHAPTER 3

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Mike-Schachter

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Nov 3, 2024

Okay I promise that this is almost the last of the junk from the hidden corners of my computer that I will be posting here.

This plot bunny is old. Really old. I must have written this in 2012.

Chapter 1: Eggciting New Life

I woke up with a strange sensation. I felt warmth all around me, something cozy and strangely comforting. I tried to move, but everything felt confined, as if I was wrapped in a tight blanket. Panic started to rise in my chest when I realized I couldn't move properly, and that I couldn't see when I oppened my eyes. I squirmed, pushing against the strange walls around me. My hands—no, they didnt feel like hands—hit something hard, and I felt pieces crack and fall away. Was that... an eggshell? I blinked, or at least I tried to, trying to make sense of what was happening. My mind was foggy, and everything around me was strange and unfamiliar.

Slowly, memories started to return. I remembered my old life—being a teenager, hanging out with my friends, school, and then the accident. The terrifying, sudden moment when everything went dark. The memory of it was vivid—the fear, the impact, and then nothingness. Now, here I was, alive, but everything felt different. The confusion was overwhelming. How could I be here?

How could I be alive after that?

I pushed again, harder this time, determination overriding my fear, until the shell around me finally gave way with a satisfying crack. Fresh air hit my face, and I paused, taking in the sensation. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced—more intense, more vibrant. I took another deep breath, the air felt sharper, cleaner, almost electrifying as it filled my lungs. I blinked a few times, my vision slowly clearing, and when I looked down at myself, I froze. Instead of my usual human limbs, I saw golden scales glinting in the sunlight, each one shimmering like a precious gem.

A strange mixture of awe and disbelief washed over me. I stretched my wings—wings?!—and as they unfurled, I could feel the power and strength in them.

The muscles of my other limbs moved smoothly, and I realized just how much force they held. It was overwhelming, almost like I had to relearn how to move all over again, but there was something inherently natural about it, as if my new body knew what to do even if my mind was still catching up. Bit by bit, it started to make sense. Somehow, I had been reborn—not as a human, but as a what seemed to be a dragon.

The realization hit me in waves—shock, disbelief, and then a thrill unlike anything I had ever felt. I wasn't just different; I was something entirely new, something powerful. I crawled out of the rest of the shell, feeling the rough edges of the broken pieces beneath me. As I stood and stretched, my wings unfurled fully, catching the light. The sunlight touched my scales, and they shone brilliantly, almost blindingly bright. It was mesmerizing, as if I were made of pure light. I caught sight of my reflection in a nearby pool of water, and for the first time, I saw myself fully—a magnificent creature, covered in radiant golden scales, with wings that seemed to catch every beam of sunlight.

Woah!

Sudenly, instincts kicked in, and without even thinking, I turned back and began to eat the pieces of the eggshell I came from. It was surprisingly delicious, each bite tasting rich and satisfying, like nothing I had ever tasted before. It had that umami flavor, I couldn't stop myself as I consumed more, feeling my strength grow with each bite.

I was creeped by my instinctual actions but a small part of me tryed to assure me that it was perfectly normal and necessary. My new body needed the nutrients.

As I feasted of my eggshell I realized that the brightness of my scales were catching the attention of a few creatures nearby, who paused to stare. A couple of birds chirped curiously from their perch, and a deer cautiously stepped closer, its eyes wide with wonder. For a moment, I was both amazed and amused—me, Michael, the same kid who used to spend hours reading fantasy novels, was now probably the prettiest dragon ever. And that was saying something.

Yes! admire my magnificence you non draconic peasants!

I couldn't help but laugh, a strange rumbling sound that vibrated through my chest and echoed around me. It was exhilarating, the idea that I had been transformed into something so pretty and powerful. I wasn't sure what this new life had in store for me, but I knew one thing for certain—it was going to be an adventure like no other!

It was true that i felt mesmerized and excited, but at the same time it was also true that a big part of me grieved for the life I had lost, the friends and experiences I had left behind. My family. I hoped my big brother was doing fine, he was probably the person I would miss the most. But here I was, given a new chance at life, even if it was as a dragon. I refused to let it go to waste.

To let sorrow consume me would be an awfull way to begin a new life, so I didnt, or at least I tryed to convince myself that I didnt.

Right now it was Adventure Time!

I quickly decided that I needed to discover which kind of Dragon I was.

Inheritance Cycle? A Song of Ice and Fire? Elder Scrolls?

At first, I thought I might have been reborn into some version of Dungeons and Dragons—I mean, I looked like a Gold Dragon and everything around me seemed fantastical! There was that otherworldly atmosphere in the forest I found myself in. And I was completelly sure that the electrifying feeling in the air was magic. I even tried to identify my "stats" and wondered if I had any special abilities, just to be disapointed after multiple failed attempts.

FUS RO DAH !!!

Nothing?

No cheat? Boo!

With dreams of great power destroyed, I decided to begin my iourneyy. I roamed aimlessly the forest for a few hours, looking for clues about this new world and admiring the beautiful place and the animals. Dont look at me like that. I was in fantasy land and I wanted to enjoy myself. The forest was alive with color and sound—the rustle of leaves, the distant call of birds, and the soft crunch of twigs beneath my feet. I couldn't help but be enchanted by the vibrant life around me, from the curious squirrels that darted from branch to branch to the graceful deer that moved through the underbrush. Hey, was that a rabbit with a horn? Cool!

I suddenly regretted to not have my Iphone or opposable thumbs to take photos.

"Adventure Time!~

Come on, grab your friends~

We'll go to very distant lands~" I sang as I explored.

I tried to piece together where I might be, but there were no clear answers. At least ASOIAF was discarted as there was a disturbing absence of shit and grime everywhere for this to be Planetos. Besides, I had four limbs and just discovered that I could talk, so no Planetos.

A few hours later it started to get dark. I was just beginning to feel a little lost and frustrated when I suddenly heard a voice call out to me. It was deep and slow, resonating through the forest like the groaning of ancient wood. I turned my head, and to my amazement, I saw an Ent—a towering, tree-like figure with eyes that seemed to peer right into my soul. The Ent was massive, with bark-like skin and branches that formed a kind of natural crown atop its head. It moved slowly, each step causing the ground to tremble slightly, and its eyes were filled with an ancient wisdom, as if it had seen countless ages pass.

An Ent, I was in Middle Earth! Nice! Even if a little part of me regreted not having the creat codes the D dragons came with.

Boo!

Then the Ent spoke, its voice deep and slow, resonating like the groaning of ancient wood. "A dragon hatchling, wandering alone in my forest," it said, its tone filled with curiosity. "This is most unusual." I could sense the Ent's cautious interest, as though it was trying to understand my existence. Its eyes seemed to study me for a long moment, as if searching for something hidden beneath my golden scales. It continued, "I feel no malice within you, little one." The Ent leaned in closer, its eyes narrowing slightly. "Who are you, and why are you here?" Why do you exist. It seemed like he wanted to ask.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal. There was a part of me that wanted to keep my past a secret, but something about the Ent's patient gaze made me feel like I could trust him. Finally, I took a deep breath and spoke. "I... I wasn't always like this," I began slowly. "I was once a human—a teenager, actually. I had a normal life until... well, there was an accident. Everything went dark, I died, or at least I believe I died. And then I woke up here, like this." I gestured to my golden scales and wings.

The Ent's gaze remained steady, and it listened without interruption. All in all it gave me the feeling of a gentle grandfather listening to his grandchild.

When I finished, the Ent tilted its head slightly, as if contemplating my words. "A most peculiar tale, indeed," it said, its deep voice thoughtful. "Perhaps there is more to your being here than you realize. Fate has curious ways, and Middle-earth is not unfamiliar with unexpected visitors." It leaned in a little closer, its ancient eyes studying me intently. "Tell me, little one, do you feel any call within you? Any desire to hoard or destroy, as dragons often do?"

I frowned, genuinely thinking about it. "No," I replied. "I mean, I like shiny things, sure, but I don't feel like I want to hurt anyone or take things that aren't mine. I just feel... confused, and maybe a little scared and exited." I hesitated, then added, "I want to understand what happened to me. Why I'm here, what I'm supposed to do, and how to make the most of the life I was given."

The Ent nodded slowly, as if satisfied by my response. "You are truly unlike any dragon I have known, young one," the Ent intoned slowly, each word resonating like the creaking of ancient branches. "And I have known many dragons throughout my long years, for I am as old as these woods, and I have seen countless ages pass. From the time Lady Yavanna walked amongst us to this very moment." it slowly said.

The Ent's words left me both confused and intrigued. Why would it expect me to be evil? I was just me, Michael—mischievous, sure, but not evil.

Okay, maybe a little evil sometimes.

But I am only evil towards those that deserve it! I promise!

As if reading my thoughts, the Ent continued, each word resonating like the groaning of ancient wood. "Most dragons, from the very moment they hatch, are consumed by great greed and malice. Your kind has often given itself to the service of darkness and its heralds. Harbingers of wanton destruction and suffering. It is the nature of dragons to crave power and riches, and to spread fear wherever they go." The Ent paused, its eyes narrowing slightly as if searching for something within me. As if he could see through me. "Yet you, young one, are different. I feel no malice, no dark intent. The taint of Melkor and his dissonant music is absent. Perhaps you are meant for a different path—perhaps there is hope for you."

Dude, why do you speek so slow?

The Ent straightened up, the rustling of its branches sounding almost like a sigh, as if it carried the weight of countless ages. "Come, little one," it said slowly. "The forest is no place for a lone hatchling, especially with nightfall approaching. There are dangers here even for one such as you. Let us find a place of safety and succor, where you may rest and learn. There is much to discuss, and perhaps, in time, we may find the answers you seek. Your place in the Ainulindalë."

As I followed the Ent through the forest, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—relief at finding someone who might help me understand this new world, and curiosity about what lay ahead. The forest seemed to come alive as the Ent moved, the trees parting to make way for it, as if they bowing at the presence of a king, and I felt a sense of awe at the power and majesty of this ancient being. Whatever this new life had in store for me, I knew I wasn't alone anymore, and that was a comforting thought.

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Mike-Schachter

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Nov 11, 2024

Chapter 2

As I followed the Ent through the forest, I couldn't help but marvel at the way the trees seemed to bow to him. They moved aside with a gentle grace, as if acknowledging his presence—a presence so powerful and ancient that even the forest itself seemed to show deference. Branches swayed and leaves rustled softly, creating an almost musical harmony that surrounded us. The forest felt alive in a way that I had never experienced before, and I was mesmerized.

The Ent moved slowly, each step deliberate, causing the ground to tremble just a bit. It made me wonder just how old he was. He had mentioned meeting Yavanna, one of the Valar, and I couldn't help but feel awestruck by the thought. Yavanna was one of the beings who shaped the world and sang it into existence, the Lady of the Forests. How ancient must the Ent be to have known her? I tried to wrap my mind around it, but it seemed beyond comprehension. I decided not to ask yet—it felt almost too big a question, and I wasn't even sure how to phrase it.

I felt like if I was walking next to a rock star. Tree grandpa suddenly became extremely cool.

Suddenly, the Ent stopped, and I looked up at him curiously. He turned his massive head toward me, and his eyes seemed to soften. "Ah," he said slowly, his voice deep like the groaning of old wood. "I just realized that we have not properly greeted each other." He sounded almost ashamed. "My apologies, young one. For I am old, and I rarely speak with anyone these days." He paused, his branches shifting slightly. "I am called Alderroot, guardian of this forest." His voice resonated through the trees as if the entire forest knew and acknowledged him.

"Nice to meet you, Alderroot," I replied, smiling. "I'm Michael. Or... at least I was. I guess I still am, even if I'm a dragon now."

Alderroot paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Michael," he repeated slowly, as if tasting the sound of it. "That is a curious name for these lands. The world I know has ancient echoes of that name, from a time long before. It speaks of humility, of devotion, perhaps even of Manwë himself, who is called the Humble One." He paused, his deep voice resonating like a distant memory. "Manwë, the greatest of the Valar, he who serves Eru Ilúvatar, the One who is above all—'Who is like Eru,' as some would say. Your name carries an echo of that meaning, 'Who is like God.'"

I blinked, caught off guard by the Ent's words. "I... I never thought of it that way," I said. "In my old world, it was just a common name, but maybe there is more to it here."

Alderroot made a deep, rumbling sound that might have been a hum. "Perhaps," he said. "Or perhaps there is more at work here than either of us know."

Alderroot nodded, and as we continued walking, he began to speak of the forest. He greeted the trees as we moved, whispering to them in his ancient tongue. The language sounded like wind through the leaves, soft and melodic. After walkin for a while he began to speak of the forest's history, how it had grown from a small grove tended by Yavanna herself, and how it had expanded over the ages, becoming home to countless creatures and plants.

As Alderroot greeted another tree, I couldn't help but ask, "Why do you talk to the trees like that? I mean, aren't they just... well, regular trees?"

Alderroot let out a sound that I realized was laughter, though it was more like the creaking of old branches in a gentle breeze. "Ah, young one, that is a common misunderstanding," he said. "All life is sentient in its own way. All things have a soul. These trees are still young, hundreds of years too young to have a voice of their own, but that does not mean they cannot listen. Not having a voice does not mean they cannot feel, or understand, or share in the song of the world."

I nodded slowly, trying to absorb what he was saying. The idea that everything around me had some form of sentience was both humbling and a little intimidating. It made me see the forest in a new light—every leaf, every blade of grass, every creature was part of something much greater, something alive and aware.

Does that mean that grandma was right to sing to her apple tree?

Food for thought. I might as well sing reggaeton to the plants to see what happens.

We eventually reached a beautiful clearing as the last rays of the sun began to fade. The clearing was full of animals—deer, rabbits, birds—all gathered peacefully. The fireflies began to emerge, their tiny lights flickering as they filled the twilight sky, creating a mesmerizing dance of light. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and I paused to take it all in, feeling a sense of wonder I hadn't felt in a long time.

Suddenly, an extremely quirky raccoon appeared from the underbrush, his eyes widening in alarm as he saw me. He skittered backward, his tiny paws trembling. His exaggerated reaction made me pause—he looked absolutely terrified, his fur puffing up comically as he tried to make himself look smaller. "D-don't eat me!" he squeaked, his voice high-pitched and trembling. "I taste terrible, really! All skin and bones, not worth your trouble! I swear!"

The raccoon continued, shaking his head frantically, "And I have fleas, the worst kind! And my fur is dirty! This brown thing in my tail is shit. Really, I'm a mess! And did I tell you about the rabies? Because I have rabies! You'd be much better off finding something else, I promise! Something more nutritious and healthy, and not me!" His dramatics, combined with the sheer panic in his eyes, made him look almost like a cartoon character—one that had been caught in the middle of some wild scheme gone wrong.

I blinked, and then a grin spread across my face. "Relax, buddy," I said, trying not to laugh. "I'm not going to eat you. Not yet, anyway." I winked, clearly joking, but the raccoon still looked wary.

"N-not yet?!" he stammered, his bushy tail puffing up in fright. But after a moment, he seemed to realize I was kidding, and he slowly calmed down, his posture relaxing.

Alderroot let out a deep rumbling laugh, the kind that seemed to shake the very ground. "Do not torment poor Rascal, young one," he said, still chuckling. "Rascal is the guardian of mischief here in this forest. He knows all the hiding spots, all the best places to find food, and all the secrets of these woods. He may be small, but he is clever, and he has a heart as big as the forest."

Rascal straightened up, puffing out his chest a little, clearly proud of Alderroot's words. "That's right," he said, his tone shifting from fearful to boastful. "I know every nook and cranny of this place! You need anything, you come to Rascal! Just, you know, promise not to eat me, and we'll be friends. Bestest friends!" He gave a toothy grin, his whiskers twitching.

I laughed, nodding. "Deal, Rascal. No eating you, I promise."

Alderroot's gaze shifted towards the clearing, and then to me. "Come, young one," he said, his voice deep and gentle. "It is time you found a place to rest. There is a cave nearby where you may find shelter. Rascal here will help you make it your own. You will be staying with us for the foreseeable future, until you find your path."

The Ent motioned for us to follow, his massive frame moving with deliberate grace as we continued through the forest. Eventually, we arrived at the entrance to a cave nestled in the side of a mossy hill. It was larger than I expected, with soft patches of grass growing just outside, and the comforting sound of a stream trickling nearby.

Alderroot turned to me, his eyes softening. "Rest here tonight, young hatchling. There is much for you to learn, and we shall begin tomorrow. But for now, sleep, and let the forest watch over you." He then nodded at Rascal, who seemed to straighten up at the unspoken command. "Rascal, help our new friend make himself at home. I shall take my leave for now."

With that, Alderroot slowly turned and began to make his way back into the forest, his massive form gradually disappearing among the trees. I watched him until he was out of sight, and then turned to Rascal.

The raccoon looked at me with wide eyes. "So, you're staying, huh? Guess that makes us neighbors, I live in the mapple tree next to this cave," he said, his voice filled with curiosity. He scurried inside the cave, his small paws making little tapping noises against the ground. "Come on in, come on in. It's cozy, and there's no fleas—I swear! Well, maybe just a few, and maybe one or two ticks." He flashed me a grin.

I followed him inside, and Rascal immediately began to bombard me with questions. "So, where did you come from? What kind of animal are you? I've never seen a winged lizard like you before! A golden winged lizard, at that! What do you eat? Do you eat daisies and sunflowers? Is that why you are so yellow and shiny? Can you fly yet?"

His questions came so quickly that I barely had time to answer. When he called me a 'winged lizard,' I paused, giving him an offended look. "I'm not a lizard," I said, my voice sharp. "I'm a dragon."

Rascal's eyes widened, and for a second, he looked genuinely alarmed. "A dragon? Are you serious?!" He scampered back a few steps, his bushy tail puffing up. "But—but dragons are supposed to be huge, like mountains! And mean! You dont look mean! My mom told me about Smaug the Golden and he is really mean, he ate the dwarves and all the ponies, dont forget the ponies!" He looked at me with a mix of fear and disbelief.

Hearing the name Smaug made my heart skip a beat. It was like a puzzle piece clicking into place, and suddenly I realized where I was in the timeline. Smaug was still known in stories, which meant I was somewhere before or during the events of The Hobbit takes place. Before the rise of Sauron. My mind raced, trying to piece it all together.

Smaug and I where the last dragons of middle earth.

Seeing my contemplative expression, Rascal tilted his head. "Hey, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I shook my head, snapping back to the present. "I'm fine, Rascal," I said, managing a smile. "And don't worry—I'm not like Smaug. I won't eat you or burn down your forest. Its my new home after all."

Rascal visibly relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief. "Good, 'cause I really do taste terrible," he muttered, before his face lit up again with curiosity. "So, can you breathe fire or what? And how about flying?! Can you take me flying? I want to eat clowds, the seem so tasty!"

I laughed, realizing that Rascal wasn't about to let up anytime soon. It seemed that this little raccoon had endless energy and an endless stream of questions—and honestly, I didn't mind. In a strange way, his presence made everything feel a little less daunting and my heart quickly endeared to him.

As the night grew darker and I settled down in the cave, I found a comfortable spot and lay down, exhaustion from the day's events washing over me. I closed my eyes, ready to drift off to sleep, but just as I was getting comfortable, I felt a small weight press against my side. Opening one eye, I realized Rascal had decided to cuddle up next to me, his tiny body curled against my scales.

"Don't mind me," he murmured, sounding half-asleep already. "Just... staying warm."

I couldn't help but smile at the sight. Despite his initial fear, Rascal was trusting enough to sleep beside me. It was comforting, in a way, and as I finally closed my eyes, I felt a sense of peace I hadn't felt since I woke up in this strange new world. With Rascal snuggled next to me, I let sleep take me, feeling just a little less alone.

Last edited: Nov 11, 2024

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Mike-Schachter

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Nov 14, 2024

#59

Sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes, English is not my native language and I mostly write to improve.

So you could say grammar Nazis are welcomed here :)

Chapter 3

Wood You Accept Me? Michael's Ent-hralling Journey

(Ba dum tss)

The next morning, I woke up in the cave, warmth against my side, and soft light filtering through the entrance. For a brief moment, I thought the previous day had been a strange, vivid dream. But as I blinked and looked around, the earthy scent of grass and the quiet rustling of the forest made it clear—this was real.

I was a dragon, a young hatchling in a new world, and this was my new reality.

Turning to my right, I saw Rascal cuddled against me, his small furry form twitching occasionally. He murmured something in his sleep, and I stifled a laugh as he muttered, "No... not the evil ticks... nasty, horrible things..." His little paws twitched as if fending off unseen foes, and it took everything in me not to wake him with my laughter.

As I saw him I felt a wave of gratitude for his company yesterday; it definitely made the night easier.

Suddenly, I heard a fluttering sound, and a tiny hummingbird hovered at the entrance of the cave. The bird's eyes narrowed at Rascal, her beak tightening in what looked like a grimace. She shook her head slightly, as if dismissing a thought, and addressed me with a surprisingly formal tone. "Greetings, young dragon," she chirped. "Alderroot has sent me to inform you that he wishes to see you as soon as you awaken."

I found it amusing how the hummingbird seemed to be actively ignoring Rascal, almost pretending he wasn't there.

Deciding to save that particular curiosity for later, I nodded and thanked her. "Give me a moment," I said, turning to nudge my little friend awake. He groaned, blinking up at me sleepily before giving a yawn. "Morning already? What do you want, Michael?"

"We have to go see Alderroot," I chuckled. "Our feathered friend here says so."

Rascal's eyes shifted to the hummingbird, and I saw his fur bristle. "Oh, it's you," he muttered, clearly less than thrilled. The hummingbird huffed, turning away from him, and I rolled my eyes. "Come on, let's not start the day like this," I said, nudging Rascal to his feet. Together, we made our way out of the cave, the hummingbird leading as we ventured back to the clearing.

The clearing looked vastly different in the daylight. Animals were everywhere—deer, rabbits, squirrels, and birds of all kinds. They all paused to watch me with a mix of curiosity and wariness, but most seemed to relax when they saw my companions. As we walked Rascal greeted many of them, exchanging nods and even a few jokes. It was clear he was well-liked, except by the hummingbird, who grimaced every time she glanced at him, while Rascal wasn't shy about making snarky comments in her direction.

"Hey, Tweety," Rascal called, a mischievous grin on his face. "Don't you have some flowers to go bother? Or is this your day off?"

The hummingbird shot him a glare, her tiny wings buzzing angrily. "And don't you have some trash to go dig through, Rascal? Or is it too early for you?"

I shook my head, smiling at their bickering. Clearly, this was an old routine, and it made me curious what history lay beneath the barbs.

I would definitelly ask Rascal later.

When we reached Alderroot, we found him tending to a cluster of young sprouts, his enormous hands moving with a tenderness that seemed out of place for such a massive being. He looked up as we approached and nodded, a warm smile crossing his face. Rascal, the hummingbird and I stood silently, waiting as he finished, the forest around us filled with the sounds of morning—birds singing, the rustling of leaves, and the gentle trickle of water from a nearby stream.

Finally, Alderroot turned his attention to us, his eyes settling on me with a look of quiet satisfaction. "You have made friends quickly, young hatchling," he said, his voice a soft rumble. "This is good. Today I wanted to talk with you, but first I would ask you, Rascal and Petal to help me with my morning duties. There is much to do to care for the forest."

Oh, so her name wasn't Tweety after all? I mentally corrected myself: Petal.

I nodded eagerly, feeling a sense of purpose I hadn't realized I was missing. Rascal grinned, eyes alight with excitement, and even Petal seemed pleased at the prospect. Together, we set out to assist Alderroot.

As we walked, I tried to make small talk with Petal, hoping to ease the tension between her and Rascal. "So, Petal," I began, "do you always wake up dragons, or is today just special?"

Petal glanced at me, her beak tightening slightly before she responded. "Waking up dragons isn't exactly my usual duty," she said with a hint of amusement. "Mostly, I make sure the flowers bloom properly and that no one—like a certain raccoon—digs them up."

I chuckled, casting a sideways glance at Rascal, who pretended not to hear. "Sounds like an important job," I said. "And keeping Rascal in line must be exhausting."

Petal's wings buzzed, almost like a sigh. "You have no idea," she replied, though there was a glimmer of humor in her eyes. "It's like dealing with a child who thinks every rule is a suggestion."

Rascal, unable to stay quiet, called over his shoulder, "Hey, Flutterbug, I heard that! And for your information, rules are just suggestions—especially the boring ones." That made Petal huff.

Our first task was creating barriers to protect the young trees. Alderroot showed us how to use rocks and fallen branches to build shields for the saplings against trampling and harsh weather. Despite being the size of a dog, I felt the thrill of strength as my claws easily sliced through earth like butter and lifted rocks, the force of my new limbs unsettling but exhilarating. There was something disturbingly natural in the way I used these draconic limbs—a feeling both powerful and strange, accompanied by a deep sense of pride.

This felt… too easy, almost unbecoming, I thought, both proud and uneasy at my new instincts.

How much influence did my new body have over me?

Shaking off the thought, I focused on stacking the rocks as Alderroot instructed, while Rascal scampered around, finding smaller branches and bits of bark to add to the barriers. Petal, unable to carry much, hovered nearby, pointing out gaps we missed, though Rascal grumbled about her "supervising" more than helping.

Next, we built a nest for a pair of owls. Alderroot gathered soft moss and leaves, and I used my sharp teeth to cut branches. Rascal, surprisingly dexterous, wove the pieces together with his paws, while Petal flitted around us, making small adjustments to ensure the nest was secure.

When we finished the nest Alderroot leaned in to inspect our work. Rascal, sitting triumphantly atop the woven branches, called out, "See, Alderroot? Master craftsmanship! Fit for royalty, even a Great Eagle would want to live here!" Alderroot's eyes crinkled as he gave a deep rumbling chuckle. "Indeed, Rascal, perhaps we shall call it 'Rascal's Regal Residence.'" Rascal puffed up, clearly pleased, and Petal buzzed around, muttering, "More like 'Rascal's Ratty Rooftop.'" The playful banter helped make the work feel lighter, and I found myself more at ease.

"Shut up, you Petal Pusher!"

After that, we moved on to inspect trees for signs of disease. Alderroot showed us how to examine the leaves and bark for fungal infections. I peeled back bark with my sharp claws to reveal healthy wood, while Rascal sniffed around the roots, checking for unusual scents. Petal darted above, scanning for any discoloration in the leaves.

Even while inspecting the trees for signs of disease, there was time for fun. I had just peeled back some bark to check for fungal growth when a small squirrel popped its head out, chattering angrily at me for disturbing its 'door.' "Oh, pardon me, your majesty," I said, bowing my head slightly. The squirrel paused, blinked at me, huffed, and then, seemingly satisfied, gave a tiny nod before disappearing back into its hollow. Rascal, who had witnessed the entire exchange, was laughing so hard he nearly toppled over. "Guess you're not the only one who can charm the locals, Michael!" he teased, while Petal added, "At least the squirrel didn't declare war."

I chuckled, but then I frowned. "Wait, declare war? Why would the squirrels declare war?"

Rascal suddenly turned serious, his eyes narrowing. "Listen, Michael, the most important rule around here, and the only one I follow without question, is to never mess with the squirrels." He gave a solemn nod, and even Petal nodded in agreement, her wings buzzing in affirmation.

Wait, they agreed?

Alderroot gave a slow nod, his expression deadly serious. "Wise words, young ones. The squirrels have their own ways, and it's best we respect them."

The unexpected agreement made me chuckle despite everything.

But I could not help thinking if they were serious or just messing with me?

They were just messing, right?

Right?

Our final task was to guard the wells and streams, ensuring that the water sources remained clean and flowing. Together, we removed debris from the streams, clearing blockages and making sure the water could move freely.

Throughout our tasks, Rascal and Petal never stopped their bickering. Rascal made several snide comments about how useless the hummingbird was, given that she couldn't carry anything. The hummingbird, in turn, pointed out how Rascal often got distracted, accusing him of slacking off. Despite their constant squabbling, they worked well together, and I found myself growing fond of their antics.

Besides, the work was calming in a way I hadn't expected, grounding me in the rhythm of the forest.

But as we walked, we reached the edge of the forest—and suddenly, everything changed and the fantasy broke.

The scent of scorched earth hit me first, sharp and bitter. Blackened branches crumbled beneath my claws, and charred trees stood like skeletal remains against the sky. The silence was eerie, broken only by the faint crackle of dying embers. Nearby, a tree lay split in two, hollowed out by fire. There were the charred corpses of a few animals that could not escape, their faces frozen in complete agony. Rascal was trembling, and Petal's wings drooped, all her earlier confidence gone.

I felt my chest tighten, and I turned to Alderroot, my voice barely a whisper. "What happened here?"

Alderroot's eyes darkened, his voice filled with a deep sense of sorrow I'd never heard before. "Orcs," he murmured. "They come to the forest, scavenging for resources and destroying all that remains. They care nothing for the lives they take or the suffering they cause."

"But… if they only want resources, why burn the forest?"

"Because they look for The Blood of the Stone that lies beneath the earth of the forest and use it to create weapons to wage war against the kingdoms of men," he replied bitterly. "To them, there is no such thing as coexistence. They take and take until nothing is left."

"They know they cannot fight me here, in the forest, where I am strongest," Alderroot continued, his voice heavy, "so they return, bit by bit, to scorch what they cannot control."

The blood of the stone? Was he talking about iron?

We stood in silence, the weight of the devastation pressing down on us. Eventually, Alderroot turned away, his shoulders slumping. "Come," he said softly. "There is nothing more we can do here."

The walk back was quiet, the lightheartedness of the morning gone. Even Rascal and Petal had nothing to say, their usual banter forgotten in the face of what we'd seen.

When we returned to the clearing, Rascal and Petal each offered me a small smile before heading off. Alderroot gestured for me to sit beside him, and I did, leaning against his massive trunk, taking comfort from him.

The mornings's work had left me exhausted, but also content. There was something deeply fulfilling about tending to the forest, about knowing I had contributed to something so much greater than myself.

"Tell me, young Michael," Alderroot began, his deep voice rumbling like the roots of the earth, "can you guess why I asked you to accompany me on these duties today?"

I hesitated, taking a moment to think about his question. It hadn't just been about keeping busy, that much I was sure of. As I replayed the events of the day in my mind—the saplings, the streams, the nest—I began to understand. "I think," I began slowly, "that you wanted me to understand the forest better. To see how everything here is connected, how every creature and every tree has a role to play. It wasn't just about helping, it was about learning how to be part of it all—learning to protect and nurture it."

Alderroot nodded, a pleased expression on his wooden face. His eyes, wise and ancient, glimmered as they looked down at me. "Indeed, young one," he said, "you understand well. The forest is not just a place; it is a community, a family. Everything here is connected, and each being—whether large or small—has a role to play. By working alongside us today, you have begun to understand what it means to truly belong here." He paused, and a soft sigh rustled through his branches, like the whisper of wind through leaves.

The Ent's expression grew more serious, and he lowered his head to meet my eyes. "You must know, young dragon, that not all who dwell here are pleased by your presence. Many of my kin remember only the dark tales of your kind—tales of fire and destruction, of greed that scorched the very earth we strive to protect, tales of endless misery." His eyes darkened for a moment, as if recalling those ancient memories. "They are wary, and rightly so. Treebeard demanded your death. But I vouched for you. I told them that you were different, that there was a light within you. Today, you have proven to me that my faith in you was not misplaced."

My chest tightened slightly at his words. I hadn't realized that Alderroot had taken such a risk on my behalf, that he had defended me against the doubts of the other Ents. A mix of emotions washed over me—gratitude, humility, and a sense of responsibility that I had never felt before.

"Thank you, Alderroot," I said quietly. "I promise I won't let you down. I want to learn, and I want to help protect this place."

Alderroot's gaze softened, and he placed a massive hand gently on the ground beside me, the weight of his presence both grounding and comforting. "Then your place is here, Michael," he said, his voice filled with a deep warmth not unlike that of a father with his child. "You are welcome in this forest, and it is my hope that, in time, the others will see what I see in you. Until then, continue to learn, continue to grow, and remember that you are not alone. The forest will always welcome those who seek to protect it."

I nodded, a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the setting sun. I looked around at the clearing, at the towering trees, the rustling leaves, and the distant call of birds. This was my new home, and it was filled with beings who cared for it deeply—beings who, against all odds, had accepted me.

Just then, my stomach rumbled, loud enough to echo through the clearing and destroy the beautiful moment of self reflection.

Embarrassed, I looked up at Alderroot, whose face held gentle amusement.

"Uh… I haven't eaten since yesterday, since I was born." I mumbled. "And… um… I think I might need meat." I winced, glancing at the nearby animals. "Is that… okay with you?"

The realization hit me horribly hard—these animals were sentient. I had spoken with them, laughed with them, even befriended two of them. The thought of eating one of them now made my stomach twist in discomfort and disgust. How could I justify taking the life of someone who might have a family, friends, or a purpose of their own? Was there really a difference between the fish in the river and the deer in the clearing? They all seemed to belong here, part of this vibrant, interconnected world. The idea of causing harm to any of them left me feeling conflicted and uneasy. I found myself wondering if there was another way to survive without harming those who had become my companions.

But this new body needed food or I would die. The prospect of a second death scared me more than anything.

Alderroot's eyes softened. "Ah, young one, you follow the path given to you. To eat is to live, and to live is to honor your place in the grand harmony of things. You must understand, Michael, that the forest has a balance—every being plays a role. Even those who consume others are part of that delicate cycle. The creatures you may need to hunt know this instinctively, and they, too, take only what they need from the plants they eat to survive. It is not done out of malice, but necessity. You are no different. The key is to show respect, to honor their life by not wasting what is given."

Still feeling conflicted, I nodded. "Thank you," I murmured. "I… just wanted to be sure I wasn't going against the forest's way."

The Ent smiled softly. He was so understanding it hurt. "Follow me, young Michael. The forest has ways to provide for all its creatures, and I will show you how to find sustenance without disturbing its balance."

We moved toward the riverbank, Alderroot's pace slow and measured, allowing me to marvel at the forest's hidden depths. When we reached the water's edge, Alderroot gestured to the fish darting just beneath the surface. "Take only what you need," he said.

I gave a small nod, stepping forward. Instinct guided me as I focused on the shimmering fish below, and with a swift strike of my claw, I caught one. As I prepared to eat, I couldn't help but hesitate for a moment, thinking of everything Alderroot had said about respect and balance. A part of me couldn't help but wish that at least the fish didn't speak.

The thought of a fish pleading for its life would have made this even harder.

Luckily it didn't and I was grateful for it.

Finally, I took a deep breath and ate, feeling Alderroot's gaze upon me, his expression approving but thoughtful. The simple meal filled me with a calm I couldn't quite explain, as if by taking only what was necessary, I had somehow honored the balance of the forest.

I tried to ignore the deliciousness of the blood in my tongue and the satisfying crack of the bones.

When I finished, Alderroot extended a branch-like hand. "Come. Let us return to the heart of the forest. There are stories yet to tell and lessons yet to learn."

I followed, feeling for the first time that I might have a place here in this ancient, living world.

Just as we began to relax, a low rumble echoed through the forest. Alderroot straightened, his gaze sharp, scanning the trees. The rumble came again, sending a prickling wave of unease down my spine.

My voice quivered, "That's… that's not good, is it?"

Alderroot's face grew grim, his eyes narrowing. "Orcs. They're coming back."

The morning sun rose over the Golden Wood, its rays spilling through the silver and gold leaves of Lothlórien, bathing the land in a soft, ethereal light. Galadriel, Lady of the Wood, stood on one of the high flets of Caras Galadhon, her gaze reaching far beyond the borders of her realm. Her eyes were distant, looking not just upon the visible world but through the thin veil of time and space that separated the mundane from the unseen.

The air was crisp, yet there was a sense of unease, something that spoke of change.

A new presence had entered Middle-earth—one she had not foreseen, one that did not fit within the known currents of fate. It was powerful, raw, and unfamiliar. The energy of it pulsed against the tapestry of the world like a drop of ink in a still pond, its ripples spreading outward, disturbing the subtle balance of all things. Galadriel closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind, seeking to understand the source of this disturbance.

"What are you?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, her words carried away on the breeze. The presence felt both young and ancient, innocent, kind and mischievous, yet tinged with something potent and dangerous. There was power, not of the sort that threatened her directly, but something primal, something born of fire and earth.

She could sense fear, a searching spirit filled with questions. It was not a presence born of malice, yet its very nature could bring wanton destruction if left untethered or guided poorly. A dragon—no, a hatchling. That realization startled her, and her eyes opened wide, the light of Aman reflected in her gaze.

Dragons had long since become rare, their existence more akin to terrible legends rather than a living part of this world.

Galadriel turned, the hem of her silver robe brushing against the carved railing as she moved. Her mind was filled with the weight of this discovery. Another fire-drake being born in Middle-earth—but not like Smaug, whose malice had darkened the Lonely Mountain afew years ago. This one seemed different, conflicted, and lost. So, so lost. What would this mean for the world? For the Free Peoples of Middle-earth? Would this young creature become another weapon of darkness, twisted by greed or malice? Or could it find a different path, one that defied the fate of its kind?

She descended the steps of the flet, her expression pensive. Celeborn approached her, sensing her unrest. "My lady, what troubles you?" he asked, his voice gentle yet concerned.

Galadriel paused, her gaze meeting his. "A new presence has entered Middle-earth. A young one, yet strong. A dragon, Celeborn. From the line of Ancalagon."

His brows furrowed, and he glanced to the east. "Another Smaug?"

"No," Galadriel shook her head. "Not yet at least. This one is unshaped, not bound to shadow nor light. It is... searching. It could be a threat or an ally, depending on whose hands shape it."

Celeborn's expression grew more serious. "Then we must ensure it does not fall into the wrong hands."

Galadriel nodded, her thoughts shifting to the darkness that still festered in the world. Sauron's reach was not fully vanquished, and many creatures still followed his whispers, seeking to take power for themselves. A dragon, even a young one, could be a powerful tool if swayed to serve darkness. But she also saw hope in this new presence, a chance to defy the expectations of what such a creature could be.

"We must watch, my love. We must see what path this young one chooses," she said softly. "And perhaps, if fate allows, we may guide it towards the light. It is not yet bound to darkness, nor to greed. There is innocence there—an opportunity. The taint of the great enemy hasn't touch this being. He is pure and innocent."

She turned her gaze westward, towards the distant Misty Mountains. Somewhere beyond them lay the answer, a young dragon hatchling taking its first steps in a world that could either nurture it or destroy it. Galadriel felt the weight of the coming days pressing upon her, knowing that every choice mattered, every step could shift the delicate balance of Middle-earth.

"May the Valar guide us," she whispered, her eyes reflecting the golden light of the morning. "And may they guide this lost soul to find its true purpose."

"Assemble our best rangers, we need to find this creature, for I am sure the darkness has also noticed its presence."

Last edited: Nov 15, 2024

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Mike-Schachter

Nov 14, 2024

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Threadmarks CHAPTER 4

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Mike-Schachter

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Nov 20, 2024

#91

Thank you all for the comments and amazing ideas!

Dedicated to:

RandomDwarf

and

King Drazel

Chapter 4

The Orcs' Iron Hunt

Bloodfang grunted, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the stretch of forest in front of him. The warband, numbering at least one hundred strong, had been ordered to clear this part of the woods—not just to destroy it, but to strip it for its iron-rich stones. Their leader, a brutish ogre back at camp, had been clear: "Take the forest down and get me the iron, or I'll have your skulls to decorate my tent." Bloodfang wasn't about to let his skull join the collection.

He turned to his lieutenant, Kragmar, who was struggling to pick his nose while holding a torch. "Kragmar, you half-witted gobbler, stop picking your snout and get to work! We need to find those iron rocks, or the boss is going to be using our bones as toothpicks."

Kragmar paused, then pulled his finger out of his nose and wiped it on his armor with a sloppy grin. "Aye, boss. But ya know, I was just thinking—these trees look like they could use a little trim. Maybe they'd like a haircut?" He swung his torch lazily, setting a low-hanging branch ablaze.

The other orcs erupted in laughter, their guttural voices echoing in the forest, a cacophony that seemed to multiply a hundredfold. One of them, an orc named Grubnose, who was notorious for his unfortunate habit of falling over his own feet, stumbled forward. "I bet these trees ain't never had a bath neither! How 'bout we give 'em a nice warm wash, eh?" He tossed a flask of oil at the base of a tree, the liquid splattering across the roots.

Bloodfang rolled his eyes, though a grin tugged at his cracked lips. "You lot are dumber than trolls on a sunny day, but you're not wrong. Burn it, chop it, just find the iron before the boss finds us lacking." He kicked a smaller orc who was hunched over, trying to gnaw on a rock. "Not that rock, you flea-brained worm! The iron ones!"

The small orc squealed, dropping the rock and scampering off, tripping over his own feet as he went. Kragmar snickered, nudging Bloodfang with an elbow. "What do ya reckon? Think we'll find enough iron to make the big boss happy?"

Bloodfang snorted, his eyes glinting with malice. "Happy? Nah. But if we find enough, maybe he won't flay us alive." He looked around at the forest, the trees looming tall and proud. The thought of tearing them down filled him with glee, but it was the promise of iron that motivated him most. Iron for weapons, iron for armor—iron for more destruction! To kill those annoying hummies of Gondor.

Another orc, named Sludge, came waddling over, his armor rattling noisily. "Boss, I found somethin'! It's all shiny and stuck in the ground!" He pointed to a moss-covered boulder with a glint of iron peeking out from beneath the dirt.

Bloodfang's eyes widened, and he shoved Sludge aside, inspecting the boulder. "Finally, some brains from you lot. This place is good!" He paused for a moment, then grinned maliciously. A few orcs were preparing to dig but he stopped them "Forget it! We'll take it later. First, we burn! Burn it all!"

The orcs cheered, their voices rising in a unified roar as all one hundred of them abandoned their efforts to dig. Instead, they set to lighting torches, throwing oil, and letting the flames consume the forest with reckless abandon. Grubnose slipped, landing face-first in the mud when he tried to move a barrel, and the others cackled as he pulled himself up, spitting dirt from his mouth. "Real funny, ya rats," he grumbled, but there was no real malice in his voice—it was just how they were, a group of cruel, foolish creatures driven by orders and the promise of destruction.

Kragmar glanced at Bloodfang, his grin returning. "Boss, when we're done here, think we can roast some of them animals too? Maybe they'd taste better with a bit o' that iron seasoning."

Bloodfang rolled his eyes and snorted. "Yeah, yeah, Kragmar, you think you're some kind of culinary genius now? Just shut up and get back to work. You sound like that drunk alchemist, who once said 'You gotta get Schwifty with it!' Except, you're not even close to smart enough to know what that means."

The orcs laughed again at the pathetic being who didn't know the meaning of such a simple word, their rough voices echoing through the burning forest. It was chaos as over a hundred of them continued their work—burning and tearing at the forest without a care for the life it held. The fire crackled and roared, devouring anything in its path. The forest became a chaos of smoke, flames, and terrified creatures. A young fox watched from its den, its heart pounding as the flames spread closer. It darted out, ears flattened in terror, dodging the heavy boots of orcs as they laughed and stomped around. The fox ran until it reached a clearing, glancing back to see its home swallowed by the roaring flames.

A rabbit darted out from a nearby bush, its tiny legs moving frantically as it tried to escape. It wasnt as lucky as the fox. One of the orcs, Grubnose, lunged forward, grabbing the rabbit by its ears. He held it up, laughing maliciously as the poor creature squirmed. "Look what I caught! Fresh meat!"

Before anyone could stop him—not that any of them would—Grubnose sank his teeth into the rabbit, devouring it alive. The other orcs cheered, their laughter a grotesque chorus that mingled with the cries of the forest.

"That's one way to make dinner," Kragmar snorted, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Who needs a cook when you got teeth like that?"

Bloodfang just grinned, his gaze fixed on the spreading inferno. "Burn it all. Drive them out. Tonight, the forest will know true fear." The forest moaned in protest, but the orcs were deaf to its cries, too consumed by their twisted humor and their orders to care.

Tonight, they would take what they wanted, and the rest would burn.

The air in the forest grew thick with tension, every leaf trembling as if in fear of what lay ahead. The quiet rustling of animals moving through the underbrush took on a frantic edge. All around me, the once serene woodland had transformed into a landscape of anxiety and urgency.

The birds no longer sang, their songs were replaced by uneasy chirps as they perched on branches, their eyes darting nervously. I felt my own heartbeat quicken, my breath catching in my chest. I could hear the rumble of distant footsteps, twisted laughs and war horns—the orcs had returned. They would burn all they could of the forest, leaving nothing but ash in their wake.

I stood rooted to the spot, frozen as a wave of panic washed over me. I wanted to run, but my legs wouldn't move. What could I, a young hatchling, do against the forces of evil marching toward us? I didn't even knew how to fly or breathe fire. I looked to Alderroot, the massive Ent who always seemed so srong, wise and unyielding, now Alderroot was needed more than ever.

The Ent bent down, his gnarled features radiating an unexpected gentleness. "Young one," he spoke, his voice like the rustling of ancient leaves. "Take heart. The forest has faced danger before, and we will face it again." Then, he stood tall, raising his arms to the sky. His branches seemed to reach out endlessly, calling to the heavens. "Birds of the forest," Alderroot bellowed, his deep voice carrying far and wide, "seek out our allies. Call for aid. Let all who care for these woods know that we are under siege."

The birds took flight, hundreds of wings flapping in unison as they ascended, vanishing into the sky. I could see different species flying side by side, hawks and sparrows, even an owl or two—all leaving their differences behind for the sake of the forest. It filled me with a sense of unity and purpose. I watched them go, a deep sense of admiration filling me as I saw Alderroot take control of the situation.

Despite the fear gnawing at me, there was something inspiring in the way Alderroot commanded the forest's defenses with such calm authority.

I swallowed hard, and with a shaky voice, I asked, "Alderroot... aren't you scared?"

Alderroot looked down, his eyes like the deep, quiet earth. "Yes, young one, I am scared," he admitted, his voice solemn. "But fear is not what defines us. I have a duty to the forest, to every living creature here. That duty gives me strength. Lady Yavanna once told me, 'Even the smallest seed can break through stone, given time and care.' It is our duty to be that care, to nurture what must grow, even in the darkest times."

"You must grow, young hatchling."

I felt something stir within me—a spark of determination. I straightened, my scales gleaming faintly in the dim light of the forest. "Then... I want to fight too," I said, my voice filled with resolve.

Alderroot shook his head slowly. "No, young hatchling. You are still too young, and the darkness must not know of your existence. We cannot risk your life, nor the danger that would follow if they learn of a dragon in our midst. For He would not rest untill He has controll over you." Was he talking about sauron? My heart sank, and I looked down at my claws, frustration bubbling within me. "But," Alderroot continued, placing a gentle branch-like hand on my shoulder, "I do have a mission for you. You must protect the creatures of this forest. Help them to safety. This is just as important as any battle, and they will need your strength."

I took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "I'll do it," I said, my voice still shaky but filled with determination.

Rascal scampered over, his eyes wide but focused. "We're with you. Petal and I aren't going anywhere."

Petal landed on my shoulder, her tiny wings buzzing. "Let's get moving. The creatures need us."

As I turned to leave, I glanced back at Alderroot, worry gnawing at the edges of my resolve. He seemed to sense my concern, his voice a comforting rumble. "Do not worry, young one. The forest is not defenseless." As he spoke, ten proud stags emerged from the underbrush, their antlers like jagged branches, and fifteen wild boars trotted in, their tusks sharp and ready. The largest of the stags stepped forward, bowing his head. "My Lord," he said, his voice deep, "We are ready. Lord Treebeard and the rest of your kin will arrive soon."

Alderroot nodded, his branches creaking as he spoke again. "Thank you, Thalion. Your courage honors the forest." He turned to the biggest boar, "And you, Grimbrow, your kind's loyalty and strength have always been a blessing to these woods." Grimbrow grunted, his snout lifting proudly. "We will not falter, Lord Alderroot."

Beside Thalion, the largest of the boars, called Grimbrow, snorted and stomped the ground. "We are ready to fight! We will protect our home with everything we have."

Alderroot gave Grimbrow a solemn nod. "Your strength and bravery are a blessing, Grimbrow, Thalion. Together, we will hold back the darkness."

I swallowed, my heart swelling with both fear and admiration. I turned back, Rascal and Petal beside me, and together we set off into the forest to help the creatures evacuate.

I moved swiftly through the forest, my heart pounding as I called out to the animals. I could feel the weight of my mission on my shoulders.

Every creature I helped felt like another life saved, another hope preserved. The fear still gnawed at me, but it was kept at bay by the urgency of what I had to do. "This way! Everyone, to the clearing!" I guided a family of hedgehogs, their tiny bodies trembling as they scurried along. Rascal darted between the trees, coaxing rabbits out of their burrows, while Petal flitted overhead, directing the birds that had remained.

At one point, I found a young fawn, frozen in fear beneath a thick bush. Its large eyes were wide with terror, and it wouldn't move, no matter how much I tried to coax it out. I could see it trembling, its small body overwhelmed by the chaos around us. "It's okay," I whispered, lowering my head to meet the fawn's gaze. "I'll protect you." Slowly, the fawn seemed to relax, and after a long moment, it began to stand on shaky legs. "It's okay," I whispered, lowering my head to meet the fawn's gaze. "I'll protect you." Slowly, the fawn seemed to relax, and I gently nudged it until it stood and began to follow me.

Rascal was having his own challenges, trying to convince a particularly stubborn badger to leave its den. "Come on, old man," Rascal urged, his voice laced with impatience. The badger huffed, clearly displeased at being disturbed. "Orcs, trolls, doom—you know, all the bad things. We really need to get moving!" The badger gave a long, stubborn sigh. "I was born here, and I plan to die here," he muttered, but after a moment, when he heard the roars in the distance he relented, grumbling under his breath as he waddled along.

Petal swooped down, her wings a blur as she led a flock of finches through the canopy. "Keep moving, don't look back!" she chirped, her voice authoritative. I watched her in admiration, marveling at how such a small creature could command so much respect.

Together, we reached the clearing, it was at least two kilometers from the battle. The animals gathered there—rabbits, foxes, deer, birds, and countless others—all huddled close, their fear palpable. I took a moment to look around at them, seeing the old and the young, families gathered together. There were mothers shielding their young. The older animals tried to look brave, but I could see the fear etched in their eyes. I could hear their worried murmurs, the older animals recounting stories of the horrors of fire. They spoke of the "Heat That Kills" and the "Bright Enemy" that had taken their kin before, their eyes haunted by memories of the devastation wrought by the orcs.

Some of the old animals seemed to flinch whenever I came close. But I could not blame them.

I took a deep breath, trying to be brave for their sake. "We're safe here," I said, my voice steady, though my heart still raced. "Alderroot and the others are protecting us. The forest has defenders, and we are not alone."

Rascal climbed onto a stump, his voice carrying across the clearing. "Yeah, listen up! The Ents are the strongest—they're the protectors of Fangorn. Those orcs don't stand a chance! They will get their ass kicked!" I couldn't help but smile at Rascal's enthusiasm. Despite everything, his spirit remained unbroken, and it seemed to lift those around us. Even the badger, who had been so resistant, looked a little less grumpy as he listened to Rascal. His tone was confident, and I could see the fear in some of the animals start to ease, replaced by a glimmer of hope.

Petal landed beside me, her small frame trembling slightly. "He is right even if he is an idiot," she said, her voice softer now. I could feel her tiny weight on my shoulder, her presence a comforting reminder that I wasn't alone in this. "The Ents are ancient, powerful. They won't let the orcs destroy what we've built here."

I nodded, feeling a surge of determination. We had done our part—now it was up to the Ents, Thalion, Grimbrow, and the others to defend the forest.

I wished I could do more, but I understood my role, and it was just as important. We were all pieces of the same effort, all contributing what we could. I looked around at the frightened yet hopeful faces of the animals and knew that, no matter what happened, I would do everything in my power to protect them.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, the forest held its breath, waiting for the battle that would decide its fate.

Our MC discovers that not all is sunshine and rainbows in Middle Earth!

Last edited: Dec 7, 2024

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Mike-Schachter

Nov 20, 2024

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Threadmarks CHAPTER 5

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Mike-Schachter

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Dec 2, 2024

#145

This chapter takes place before chapter 4.

Sorry for the filler, the only reason I wrote this is because my GF asked me. (The things a guy does for love)

Dedicated to Ankheg

Chapter 4

The Entmoot's Dilemma

(Takes place one day before chapter 4)

The evening sun filtered through the thick canopy of Fangorn Forest, bathing the clearing in a golden light. The Entmoot had gathered, a rare occurrence, for the Ents did not hastily meet unless there was a matter of great importance to discuss.

Their towering forms stood in a circle, each as ancient as the forest itself, and their voices were a low rumble as they debated the matter that troubled them all: the presence of a dragon within their woods.

Treebeard, the eldest of the Ents, the oldest living thing in Middle Earth, spoke with a deep resonance, his eyes clouded with a mix of ancient grief and righteous determination. "Hoom, hrum... A dragon, here in Fangorn. Such a creature, even a young one, is not to be trusted. I have seen what their kind can do. I remember the War of Wrath, the fire and the destruction that the dragons brought. The horrors of Glaurung and Ancalagon. Their greed, their malice, it is woven into their very nature." He paused, his gaze heavy as he looked around the gathered Ents. "We must act, and we must act decisively. The dragon cannot be allowed to live. He is a danger to the forest, and to us all."

The murmurs that rose were not all in agreement, but the air was thick with unease. An Ent named Ironbark, with dark bark hardened like iron, nodded vigorously. "Treebeard speaks wisely. Dragons are creatures of darkness, born from the corruption of the Great Enemy. We risk much by allowing him to stay. What if he attracts the few of his kind that remain? What if he falls to his nature and turns against us?"

Treebeard's gaze darkened as he spoke again, his voice deep and laden with memory. "Hoom, hrmm... I felt his presence the moment he was born. There is no mistaking it. This young one is of the line of Ancalagon, the Black, the left hand of Morgoth. His blood is tainted with the darkness of his forebears. The potential for devastation lies within him."

A gasp of horror rippled through the gathered Ents, their branches rustling in alarm. Willowroot's voice trembled as he spoke. "Ancalagon's line... The terror that name brings. The great beast that darkened the skies, whose fall broke the mountains. Can we truly believe that any good can come from such cursed lineage?"

Alderoot, younger than many of his brothers, but still old enough to remember the light Telperion and Laurelin, old enough to remember the voice of Yavanna, stepped forward, his branches creaking gently. "Brothers, I understand your fears. But I have spoken to the young dragon. He is unlike the creatures that served Morgoth. He is lost, alone, and does not desire conquest or wealth. He wishes only to find a home, a place where he can live in peace. To deny him that, based only on the fear of what he might become, is unjust. We are supposed to be the shepherd of life, or have any of you forgotten the last words of our mother?"

There was a pause, and then Alderoot added, his voice carrying a hint of reverence, "And consider his name, my friends. He carries the name 'Mainwel,' inspired by none other than Manwë, the High King of Arda. An angelic name, a name of light and honor."

A ripple of unease moved through the gathered Ents, their branches rustling in the quiet of the forest. Willowroot spoke, his voice laden with skepticism, "Preposterous. A name like that, taken by a creature of darkness... It seems almost blasphemous. What could such a being hope to achieve by invoking the name of Manwë?"

Treebeard's eyes narrowed, his deep voice stern. "Hoom, hrmm. The name of the High King is not to be taken lightly. It is troubling, Alderoot, that a dragon would dare to claim such a title."

Alderoot bowed his head slightly, acknowledging their concerns. "I understand, Treebeard, Willowroot. But I see this differently. I see it as a sign—a divine omen, perhaps even a blessing from Yavanna and the Valar themselves. The young one carries this name not out of arrogance, but perhaps a desire to emulate something greater, something good. Perhaps this is the Valar's way of showing us that even a creature of shadow can strive towards the light."

Alderoot paused for a moment, then added with a gentle smile, "And let me tell you of one of my servants, a young raccoon named Rascal. Rascal has taken a special fondness for the dragon, follows him everywhere, and trusts him deeply. This creature, who knows only survival and instinct, sees something good in him. Is that not a sign of the young one's true nature?"

The Ents fell silent, considering Alderoot's words. Treebeard's gaze softened, though his frown remained. "Hoom, hrmm. It is true that he has done no harm thus far. But a dragon's nature is difficult to change, Alderoot. His fire, his instincts—they are dangerous. We have already lost so much. And if he is discovered by the Enemy, Fangorn itself could become a battlefield, would you risk our home for him? We are already besieged by His servants from Dol Goldur. This is no mere coincidence. There are dark forces at play."

Oakbark, who had remained silent until now, spoke with a deep, echoing voice. "Perhaps there is a middle path. If the dragon is to stay, let him prove himself further. Let him abide by our laws, let him take a blood-oath to protect Fangorn. And should he falter, should he show even a hint of the darkness within him, then we act. We finish him and his cursed lineage."

The Ents murmured in agreement, the tension in the air easing slightly. Treebeard nodded, though his expression remained stern. "Very well. We shall give the dragon this chance. But hear me, Alderoot: you will be responsible for him. Should he stray, should he bring ruin upon us or the Children of Eru, it will be on your branches."

Alderoot bowed, his branches rustling. "I accept this responsibility, Treebeard. I believe in the good within him, and I will guide him as best I can."

Treebeard turned to the gathered Ents, his deep voice echoing through the clearing. "Then it is decided. We shall watch, we shall wait, but we shall not be hasty. Let the dragon prove his worth, and let us hope that our trust is not misplaced."

With that, the Entmoot slowly began to disperse, the Ents returning to their ancient duties, their forms blending into the vastness of the forest. The decision had been made, but unease lingered. The young dragon had been given a chance, but the eyes of Fangorn would be upon him, ever watchful, ever wary.

The only thing left was to pray to God that they were not wrong.