The Story of a Man-Turned-elf and His Attempts and Trials in Growing a Proper Beard

[MarkWarrior]

What a nice breeze. The air was neither too hot nor too cold, and the birds sang the songs of spring as the leaves rustled with the passing of the wind.

Wait? Breeze? I had gone to sleep in my house. The only breeze I should be feeling was that of the fan I always had at my bedside.

I opened my eyes to a paradisiacal wonderland. The trees were large, and their canopies sheltered many beneath boughs of emerald and brown. In the distance, a waterfall could be heard crashing down, and a creek happily bubbled near my feet.

The problem didn’t lie in my surroundings or the peaceful aura that enveloped the area. No, I knew what was wrong when I looked in the creek and beheld my reflection.

I was now an elf.

My face was barren, my beard erased as if it had never existed. All of my scars, the marks from mistakes made with a knife, were gone, and the aches and pains of the years melted away. Even my eyes were different. They were improved. I could see further than I had ever even dreamt of.

All of which meant one thing.

I had woken up in some sort of fantasy realm. And I didn’t even get to be myself!

I knew that my family was cared for in the event of my death or disappearance. But why had my beard been taken from me? And why? Of all things, had God decided to make me an Elf?
After what might have been hours or only a few short minutes, I composed myself and took a deep breath.

Standing up, I began to move in the direction of the waterfall that I could hear in the distance, eventually stopping at what was in front of me.

I stepped out of the gorgeous green canopy, and my mouth fell open at the sight before me. This wasn’t just a generic fantasy realm. No, I had ended up in a world I had only dreamed of as a child. There, before me, was a vision of loveliness and grace. Of a harmony of nature and construction. Something that skilled artisans had made with an eye and skill at working with someone’s hands that took decades, if not centuries, to develop. There, before me, was as close to perfection as anything I had ever seen.

It was indeed something else. There were streams that flowed in and out of stone canals, leading to deep waterfalls and pools of crystal-clear water. Whitewashed stone with nary a stain was carved into deep walls and towers. And that was just what I could see from this vantage point. Then, it clicked, and deep in the recesses of my mind, I realized where I was.


I had always envisioned Rivendell to be something special when reading the series as a kid, and it had only been cemented when it appeared in the films. But seeing the true Rivendell in person, even from afar, shook me. It left me unable to move, to speak. So, I stood there and waited as equal parts rage and sadness filled me. Finally, I crumpled to the ground and wept.

“Friend, why do you weep so?” A gentle voice broke the gentle noise of the forest. “Is today not a day for feasting and rejoicing?”

I turned and beheld a figure that radiated light, a warm smile on his face as he calmly seated himself beside me.

“I had heard that there was a visitor here,” Glorifindel’s light dimmed a bit, and he began to take in the sights with me. “But sometimes the whispers of the wind fail to tell me all that there is to the tale. I would have yours if you would tell it.”

At first, I didn’t know how to respond. After all, how do you explain to someone who has lived longer than your entire civilization and has experienced the greatest joys and sorrows of the minor things you faced?

Something must have shown on my face because the elf sighed, and melancholy filled the atmosphere.

“Youth does not diminish that which can crush a soul. The loss of family and friends is never something to be taken lightly,” I could see the mixture of mirth and sadness within his eyes. “Now come, you will find that a shoulder to help carry your grief upon will take it further than if you bear the burden of sorrow on your own.”

There was silence for a time as I reached for the words, only to stop as another wave of tears fell.

“I’m sorry,” I finally choked out.

“We may take all the time you require,” the Ancient elf replied. “Rivendell is not threatened, and we are not expected to appear for the feast for many hours.”

Gradually, the story of my life was poured out before someone who not only understood but did not make light of me and did not belittle me for my emotions or my failings. A calm, steady support gradually filled the air as I stumbled through the story.

And after hours of speaking, I finally explained my waking up in the forest.

“Oh, child,” he stood up and reached out a hand. “There is a place for every guest among Elrond’s halls. And your tale is no stranger than many that we have heard. You are not the first sojourner that Eru has brought through these lands. And I doubt you will be the last. Take heart, and enjoy the peace. Come, feast with us, and take solace in the joy of the moment. For even among us Elves, a moment is but fleeting.”

And with the support of a hero of old, I stood and followed into the House of Elrond, into the city of Rivendell.

---

As a child, I dreamt of being one of the Fellowship of the Ring. I had plans to save Boromir and ensure that the Ring made its way to Mordor. My sister and I had even transcribed Dwarvish runes and identified their characters in comparison to their English counterparts. But now, waking up in a room set aside for me in the house of Elrond, I knew that there was no place for me among the Elves.

While I was confident that I could spend my years in comfort here, something stirred within me, a drive to search out the mysteries that had gone unexplained in all of the tales of Middle Earth, and underneath all of that lay one burning desire.

I was going to grow a beard on this Elvish face. And there would be nothing and no one capable of stopping me.

Author’s Note: This starts out a bit sad, but I promise that we’re going to go in some very silly directions.
Also, @Karmic Acumen I know you love beards. So, if you have any suggestions, they'd be most welcome.

 

[Brutus]

The poor Beard. May it rest in peace.

 

[The Whispering Monk]

I wonder if the beard on an elf will be as sharp as their cheek bones...

 

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 2

I have never felt more uncomfortable in my existence than I did standing at the entrance to the halls of the Last Homely House. Seeing the place from afar and meeting Glorfindel could all have been a bad fever dream, something that I experienced while in the throes of pain when passing my kidney stone or when I was running a fever shortly afterward.

But the minute that I walked through this door and met Elrond and whoever else lay within these halls, that illusion, that dream, would be shattered, leaving me in a reality that was dark and cruel at times. Yes, there was always hope in Middle Earth. Eru’s plans have ever been carried out and orchestrated through men, elves, dwarves, and hobbits. But there still was that faint, desperate emotion, hoping without hope that I would wake up in my bed.

I gulped and stepped through the gates, feeling the sadness leave as a sense of peace filled the atmosphere. Elves were chattering and birds flitting among the trees, the sun danced brilliantly with shadows through the leaves, and a lone Elf stood before the largest house in the valley.

“Youngling,” Elrond smiled gently. “You are welcome in these halls, even if you are but a sojourner. Please, enjoy my hospitality and that of my hearth.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I smiled back, giving a slight bow. I was an uncultured American. What did I know about how to greet someone who was essentially royalty?

With a gesture, he indicated that I should follow him into his house.

“Come, tell me your story, and I will see what I can do to aid you in whatever it may be that you need.”

So I was helped inside, fed a great meal, and shown to a warm spring. As I bathed, a change of clothes was gifted to me, and I was led to a small room to rest in for the night.

---

When I woke up, I was directed to the same hall where I’d eaten dinner the night before and instructed to sit at an open spot as trays with food were brought out.

There was honeyed bread that was soft and sweet; there were strips of bacon and small steaks. The food was pleasantly filling and left nothing to be desired after being washed down with the most delicious tea I’d ever had.

After dinner, Elrond invited me to a balcony where he stood silently. His eyes turned to the valley, and he stared out over it. Then he sat and began to speak.

“Eru works in mysterious ways, and oft he does not reveal his plans to us,” Elrond began, his eyes turning to face me. “But sometimes, there are whispers on the wind, of things and plans that he has. You are a sojourner, one who has wandered far from his home. I would instruct you, give you proper knowledge, equip you, and then send you on your way.”


“Instruction?” I asked.

“You are but a boy,” he laughed. “While your physical body is mature, and it is clear that you possess a mature mind, thirty years is nothing to one who may live for a millennia or more. I will open my library to you as well. Glorfindel and others will hone your body, and I and my house will aid in honing your mind.”

Then he stood, gesturing for me to follow him.

“I name thee, Randir. For you are a wanderer, a pilgrim far from home, searching for something known only to you.”

---

And what followed was the most intense years of my life.

Years were spent learning the bow, the art of hunting and tracking prey, and what I needed to survive in the wild. I patrolled with the Rangers who roamed and kept the lands and learned everything they would teach me. I wandered from Bree to the wastes of Eriador before returning to Rivendell for further instruction.

Then Glorfindel began to instruct in the sword, and though I thought myself prepared after the dangers I had faced in the wastes, nothing could have prepared me for this.

Where Glorfindel and most of the other elves were graceful and sleek, though tall, I was built a bit differently.

I stood a few inches shorter than Glorfindel, my shoulders were broader, and I kept my hair close-cropped. I wanted to remember as much of what I was before as possible while learning what they were willing to teach me here in Middle Earth.

But none of my strength was useful when Glorfindel sparred with me.

His speed, strength, sheer skill, and talent with a blade put me to shame. When we would meet on the fields, he would spare no more than a few seconds disarming me before instructing me on where my failures lay. Then, he would have me begin again, praising me for the improvements while mercilessly cutting my flaws apart.

“Good,” he grinned as I dove out of the way of his blade. “If at all possible, you do not want to be where the enemy can strike you. If I teach you nothing else, learning to dodge the blades of any enemy you face will be necessary for life.”

As he said that, he shifted his footwork and brought me to the ground again, his outstretched hand pulling me up and clapping me on the back after he sheathed his sword.

“Are you certain that there is improvement?” I asked as I picked up the longsword that I’d acquired while working with the Rangers from where it had fallen to the ground.

“Randir, I would not instruct you if you were not learning,” he stated. “For one who had done no more than use a skinning knife before my tutelage, you are learning well.”

He rested his hand on my shoulder. “I am aware that time seems to pass slowly, but time is something that you possess. Slow down and enjoy what there is to offer here, both in Rivendell and among the rest of Middle Earth. Train with the Rangers, see how your skill measures up, and return once you are satisfied. You are the first student I have had in many years. I will continue to instruct as long as you are willing to learn.”

His gaze turned fatherly, and he winked at me. “Besides, one day, you might have something to teach me. One never stops learning. More has been made and hidden than all the Elves, Men, and Dwarves could ever imagine. And if you search for things hidden, you may even find one or two of them and bring them to light,” a wistful look made itself known before he shook his head. “But enough of an old Elf’s ramblings. It is yet time for a feast. After all, it is not every day that the Chieftain of the Dunedain dines with us.”

“It will be good to see Aronui again,” I laughed. “It has been a few years.”

“Let us hope that he brings good tidings,” Glorfindel replied. “The wind has brought grim tales of late.”

 

[Blasterbot]

I would bet he also swung a stick around as a kid too. probably less useful than knowing not to cut yourself when handling something sharp though.

 

[ATP]

He want beard...so,he would become dwarf-friend,not Legolas? big change for canon!
Jokes aside - he should said everything he knew to Erlond.

 

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 3

“Randir!” A tall man grinned when I entered Elrond’s hall as he stood from his chair and clasped arms with me, clapping my back before sitting back down. “It’s good to see you again, brother!”

“Argonui!” I laughed. “I didn’t know you were coming for a visit, you old dog!”

“Even a Ranger needs a warm hearth to spend the night at on occasion,” Argonui replied. “Now, sit and eat, friend. We’ll break bread together and then discuss what is happening in the Wastes of Eriador.”

“Did something go wrong?” I immediately latched onto his words.

“No, my friend,” the Chief of the Dunedain replied. “But there are whispers of dark rituals happening and of mysteries that plague the area and Mithrandir has been seen in odd places of late,” He shook his head free of the thoughts of what he had encountered of late. “ But enough talk of dark tidings. It is time to enjoy fellowship and share a meal with my brother.”

So I ate with Argonui, and after we had dined, we relocated to a porch that overlooked one of the waterfalls.

“It is odd,” Argonui said after a moment of puffing on his pipe. “I had expected to see more of the Noldor, but they have been strangely silent.”

“Ahh,” I tried not to laugh. “I must confess that I bear some of the responsibility for that.”

“Oh?” Argonui arched a perfect eyebrow at me. “What is it that you have caused?”

“I possess knowledge of how many things work, and upon revealing that there were more mysteries than even they had discovered, they were thrown into a fervor,”

I smirked a bit as I remembered a few scenes that I had walked in on.

“Also, my existence may have had something to do with it,” I shrugged. “I have reason to believe that having someone who is almost as a child to them and yet still an Elf brought about a surge of something they haven’t experienced in many a year.”

“Stop talking in circles,” Argonui glared at me. “Be blunt with it. Are we not brothers after facing those trolls together?”

“They’re having intercourse,” I finally stated. “All of the married Elves have begun trying to have children once more, and those who were not married… Well, they have fast found themselves married and doing the same.”

I felt the blush rise on my face as Argonui simply stared at me for a moment before looking away and puffing a bit harder on his pipe.

The silence was so thick you could have cut it with a knife before he spoke up again.

“Randir, regardless of whether you are responsible or not, a good thing has happened.”

He looked at me again, a fire in his eyes.

“Despite what they would tell you, the Noldor have long seemed to have lost hope. They have been abandoning Middle Earth. To hear that they have begun to have children again…” he trailed off as his voice choked up a bit... “It brings great joy to my heart. Now, let us speak no more of uncomfortable topics. Instead, let us speak of what has been happening in Eriador.”

–
–

Argonui spent several weeks at Rivendell, seeking Elrond’s wisdom and spending time with Arador. He taught his son the arts that would benefit him as both Chief of the Dunedain and that of a Ranger. He spent time honing Arador’s skill in tracking and hours on end giving him tips and pointers in archery and swordcraft. But, as with all things, that time came to an end.

This time next year, the Chief of the Dunedain and I would return and bring Arador with us into the wastes of Eriador. But now, we were departing for the wilderness and would not be returning for that entire year.

“May your feet be swift and your journey take you where you are needed most,” Elrond said as he clasped arms with me.

“And may your halls sing with the laughter and mirth of children,” I grinned. “Long has it been since the Elves remembered what it was like to have younglings. Maybe you’ll remember the joy that you once had.”

Argonui said his own goodbyes before we set off toward the hills. There were rumors of hill trolls. And it was our duty to see that the rumors were false. And, to ensure that the threat was ended if they were not.

---

Unfortunately for us, the rumors of trolls were far more accurate than we had imagined. And over the next few weeks we found many small homesteads destroyed or abandoned with signs of the creatures that had done the deed.

Seeing as there were likely too many for us to handle on our own, we instead ventured towards a nearby Ranger encampment. We would gather more of the Dunedain before driving the monsters out.


There were fewer than we had hoped but more than expected. After explaining what we had found, we again departed for the caves and hills with another ten Rangers. We would see the Trolls dead and their corpses brought into the sunlight.

“They went this way,” Cemenyan lifted his gaze up from the tracks he was looking at. “I expect we’ll find them to the North, there are more than a few caves nearby that they may have made their home.”

A grim silence settled over the party as we continued through the nearby woods, eventually culminating in a clearing.

A firepit had been dug in the center, and surrounding several logs were bones. From where we were, it wasn’t obvious whether they were the bones of men, or of one of the other races, but that did not matter to us. We were here to ensure they would prey on people no longer. Regardless of the race that the traveller might be.

But it was nearing night, and trolls were best faced in the light of the day. So, we ran whetstones over our swords and counted our arrows. There would be combat in the morning, and equipment could always be broken.

Then we climbed into the high boughs of trees where our cloaks would hide us and began to sleep for the night. Tomorrow, there would be a reckoning.

–
–

I jolted upright as I was shaken awake, my hand on a dagger as my eyes latched onto the face of my friend.

A finger was held to his lips, silencing me as he pointed at the firepit below.

“C’mon Toby, we’ve had nothin’ but mutton for days now!”

“I told ya already! We can’t take more or there won’t be any eatings at all!”

“But what about the Dwarves we saw on the roads yesterday? They’d be good eatings, Toby!”

“Jim, shut up and enjoy yer mutton.”

Toby cuffed the other troll on the back of the head.

There were four of them seated around the fire, but two of them focused on their food while the other two continued to argue well into the night.

We alternated shifts through the night as the sun began to peek over the horizon as golden rays unhindered by cloud or fog.

Soon enough, the trolls moved into the cave for the day, and the Rangers and I dropped out of the tree.

“We shall bait them into the light of day,” Argonui ordered. “Even if they are not directly harmed by it, they will be weakened.”

So we stepped forward and into the darkness of the cave, not knowing what waited for us in the darkness.

 

[Lord Greyscale]

peek over the horizAsolden rays unhindered

fairly sure that was meant to be "horizon, golden"

editing\compositing error?

 

[MarkWarrior]

fairly sure that was meant to be "horizon, golden"

editing\compositing error?

Probably.

Edit, looks like copy paste jacked some stuff up.

 

[ATP]

Probably.

Edit, looks like copy paste jacked some stuff up.

There is one problem with marriages for elves - Reincarnation really work for them,and they keep their memories.
So,they would not marry if they arleady have waifu,but wait till she be born and keep living together.
The same,of course,goes for womans.

Most of them,if not all,must be arleady married,and could not marry other - becouse elves do not break their vovs.

 

[MarkWarrior]

When we stepped into the cave, it was as if we had entered another world entirely. The bones of people and animals littered the ground, and the odor of rotting flesh filled the air. Darkness consumed the light that drifted into the cavern, and we all felt a chill in our bones.

The Trolls had dragged boulders into the cave and stretched sheepskin between them to block out the sun's light when they slept. They had grown overconfident in the winter and had all fallen asleep.

We moved through the cave amidst the snores and light conversation, the flickering light of a small fire sending fierce shadows dancing around us.

The Trolls were laid about in odd positions around a small campfire that was burnt down to mere embers.

At this point, Argonui caught our attention and drew his sword, the light rasp of steel on leather covered by the cave's ambient noise.

I merely moved my hand to the quiver on my right hip and double-checked the strings on my bow. Then, locking eyes with the Chief of the Dunedain, I nodded.

We didn’t try to fight the trolls on equal ground. Instead, we followed Argonui’s lead and slit the throats of two trolls, a slight gurgling the only sound of two trolls weakly trying to pull themselves up.

But as we approached the remaining two, one of them sniffed, his eyes shifting open. He searched the cave before eventually finding us, his eyes widening as he roared a challenge.

“Ya killed Jim! I’ll cut ya up and eat ya!”

The two Trolls were now wide awake as whatever passed for adrenaline flowed through their veins. The clubs clutched in their hands were now swung onto their shoulders, and their faces twisted in fury.

“You trolls cannot take us!” Argonui taunted as he waved for us to move back toward the cave entrance. “After all, you were not even willing to face armed travelers on the road!”

The Troll called Toby stayed back once he realized what Argonui was doing, but the same could not be said for his companion.

“I’ll skin you and eat you alive!” the second troll growled, smashing a boulder with his club and running after us.

The Troll picked up speed, and we jumped to the sides of the cave entrance, the chilling and haunting feeling dissipating with the light of day.

The troll had picked up momentum, and while it tried to slow once it realized it was heading for sunlight, it slipped on one of the victim’s ribcages, sending it sliding into the day, where it screamed before slowly turning to stone.

But Toby stayed within the cave, his fierce growl reaching us from the bowels within.

“We will have to go in and remove him,” Argonui sighed. “Cemenyan, get the lantern ready. Randir, see if any fuel is left among the supplies of those who were taken by these villains. Amsden, take Otkar and see if there are any other entrances to the caves. We may have to burn the last one out.”

The assembled Rangers departed as ordered while I moved to the troll’s campsite, reaching and opening the packs of those who had been taken, looking for lamp or lantern oil or anything we could use.

“I have some oil, but it is not enough to do as you wish,” I pulled out a sealed wooden barrel, helpfully labeled oil.

“Then we will push in and remove him by hand,” Argonui sighed. “Cemenyan, gather Otkar and Amsden, we finish this now.”

“Some of us will die,” I looked at my friend.

“I know,” he replied. “But it is our responsibility and duty to remove this evil from the land,”

“We don’t have to allow the others to endure as we do,” I offered.

“You would face a troll with only the two of us?” Argonui raised an eyebrow in askance. “Are you mad, my friend?”

“No,” I shook my head. “Merely confident in your skills.”

He paused for a moment and looked around at the clearing. The smell of death hung around as if we had paused in a butcher’s shop.

“But you are wrong. There is strength in my kin, and we will conquer this madness together.”

So we waited for the other three to rejoin us before entering the cave once again.

“Randir, Otkar, you will use up your quivers before moving into the melee. Our goal will be to drive him back into the daylight. But if we cannot, we will do as we must.”

Cemenyan and Amsden drew their swords, joined Argonui in standing before Otkar and me, and then pushed into the cave.

Toby was waiting for us, and he was angry. His nose flared, and his club dragged on the ground behind him.

He roared once he saw us and moved closer, his club smashing into the ground where Amsden had just been.

I pulled an arrow and nocked it before loosing, the two-hundred-pound draw weight driving the shaft deep into the shoulder.

But as things descended into more chaos, I had to carefully choose my shots. My arrows found purchase in small areas around Toby’s arms and hands, but they did little more than make the giant angry, his black ichor draining out slowly as I fired my last arrow and watched it bounce off his skull.

Then I drew my sword and dove into the fray as the club impacted Cemenyan, flinging him against the cave wall where he attempted to move before remaining still.

But neither Amsden nor I struck the blow that felled the troll. No, Argonui bellowed in rage and drove his sword deep into Toby’s belly, his right hand pulling the sword out as he drew a dagger in his left and sunk it deep into the eye.

Toby twitched momentarily before finally falling to the ground on his back. The Troll was dead.

“Randir,” Argonui glanced at Cemenyan. “Take care of our wounded. We will search the cave and see what other dangers lie within.”

I grabbed the Ranger’s sword before moving to where he had struck the wall.

“Come,” I slid his sword back into its scabbard. “Let us get you into the light and see what can be done for your wounds.”

I hefted the man onto my shoulders and carried him out of the cave.

I had learned all that I could of the medical treatments available to the Elves and Men of Middle Earth, but I had also adapted some of the techniques I had learned in the past to today, and it was those that helped me in treating the fallen Ranger.

I pulled off his mail shirt and the linen underneath; his cloak was used to elevate his head, and I ran through checks.

The hit had broken several ribs, and the Ranger was suffering from severe whiplash. He was lucky that his back had not been broken. But I could not do much to treat broken ribs aside from treat the pain and bind them up. He would need to spend the rest of the year healing and resting if he wished to recover.

Right now, though, he was sleeping. The only sound from him was short, rasping breaths that seemed to be filled with pain.

But we had accomplished our task, and we would all live. That was not always certain in any world.

“Randir, Armsden will take your place,” Argonui called from the cave entrance. “He was injured as well and kept it hidden from me. There is much we must bring to light here.”

The rest of the day was spent bringing the bones of the dead out of the cave and dragging the troll’s bodies out to turn to stone.

While there was treasure in the cave, that was the least of our concerns. As Chief of the Dunedain, Argonui had a responsibility to see that the dead were buried properly. Ghosts were real in this world, and if things were not handled well, then this could become another site akin to those scattered around the world—one of ghosts and wights.

After we had done our due diligence, we retired for the night. The treasures could wait until the morning. Who knew what accursed artifacts may have been hidden away that would be dangerous at night but less so during the light of day?

“I will keep watch throughout the night,” I offered. “I must see to it that Cemenyan is taken care of. He is stable for now, but I will need to monitor him until we have reached a place where he can be properly treated.”

“I will use what Athelas I possess to ease his pain for the night,” Argonui reached into the pack he carried. “Then we will rest,” He turned to me. “I will take over for you before the final watch so you may rest.”

“Right,” I nodded and grabbed the small camping pot in my travel pack. “I will prepare the fire.”

“Aye, we will need it after today.”

So the small group huddled around the fire and covered themselves in their cloaks to sleep, their swords within easy reach of their hands. But I tended to the fire and gazed into the darkness around us. Trolls were not the only danger that lurked within the night, after all.

 

[ATP]

Good.SI do not kill troll on himself,but with few rangers,and after hard fight.I do not like overpovered characters.

P.S cave troll in table game is worth 75 points - so,since rangers are 25 points each,our elf now is no more then 50 points now,i think.And with 2 attacks ar best.

 

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 5

Once the sun had risen again, we were faced with the final task of this mission. It was time to uncover everything that had been buried within the cave.

“Armsden, you and Cemenyan are going to take it easy,” I instructed, leaving a fresh pouch of Athelas on a small log in front of them. “Argonui, Otkar, and I will finish clearing out the caves.”

“I will watch over him,” Armsden nodded. “We should be safe here in the light of day.”

“Come, Randir!” Otkar called from the mouth of the cave, a lit torch in his hand. “We have need of your keen eyes!”

“I’m coming,” I eased myself up and slung my bow across my back, the quiver of arrows resting on my right hip and my sword on my left.

I paused at the two piles of bones we’d made the evening before. There was something eerie about nothing being left to differentiate any of the people from each other, and in a world like this— There was a reason to make sure that people remained dead.”

“Argonui,” I said once I was within speaking distance. “What are we going to do with the bones?”

“We will make a funeral pyre,” he replied. “I will not have them remain uncleansed for long. But I would rather deal with the evils that lie within caves such as this while it is yet day. For such evil and wickedness are oft terrified of the night.”

With that statement, he brandished the torch before him and walked forward. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, and we moved through the winding paths of the cave until we found a small pit where the Trolls had thrown all of their riches.

Two solid wood chests bound in silver were at the bottom of the pit, and a sack filled with weapons was lying on top of the twin chests.

“Randir, get the sack,” Argonui crouched and grabbed the handle of two chests. “Otkar and I will remove the chests from the cave.”

I picked up the sack and secured it over my shoulder before grabbing the torches from the two men.

I led them out of the cave and into the sunlight, waving at Cemenyan as he lay on his bedroll while Armsden kept watch.

“These things are heavy,” Otkar grunted as they set one chest down to move them one at a time to the campsite.

I opened the sack and began to stack the small amount of weapons beside the chests.

“Some of these are heirlooms,” Argonui examined a blade covered in Numenorean runes. “Of families long since passed from this world.”

“Cemenyan, you are kin to the family that possessed this blade,” Argonui set the sword down beside the wounded man. “It is right that it continues through your line.”

The next weapon he picked up was a dagger that seemed to drink in the light, aside from a few runes lit up on the side.

“That is a cursed blade,” Otkar spat.

“Agreed,” Argonui said, placing the dagger back into its sheath, allowing the malevolent spirit to disappear again. Randir, you have a sword, but you should possess a backup,” he said, pulling a boring-looking sword from the pile and handing it to me. “This is an Elvish blade, but I do not believe that it possesses a name. Perhaps you can make one for it.”

The other weapons were distributed to the party, and we opened the chests.

There were coins within, some other small knives and expensive cutlery, and a treasure that I valued the most out of everything else.

“I would like to possess whatever is sealed in the tube,” I pointed to the sealed tube nestled among the coins in the chest.“I care not for any riches. Merely for the chance to seek out that which has been lost.”

“No,” Argonui shook his head. “You will take a fifth. We all participated in this hunt, and you have ensured that one of our brothers does not perish. Now, we should separate these into sacks to distribute the weight equally on our pack horses.”

We quickly sorted out the coins and tied them to the horses' packs, securing them underneath bedrolls and other sections so they appeared innocuous. We were Rangers, but only a fool thought he or she was above reproach or out of danger in the wilderness.

We also made a small pyre and set the bones on it, both human and animal alike, waiting until it had burnt low before burying them and offering some small words to allow their spirits to pass on.

Then, we helped Cemenyan up and onto his horse. I had bound his ribs as tightly as was safe, and we had given him a drought of Athelas and water to soothe the pain.

“The nearest settlement is a few leagues away,” Otkar grunted. “We will ride slowly so as to not make their wounds worse.”

“It is merely an arm,” Armsden defended himself. “And it is still capable of both shield and sword.”

“It was dislocated,” I raised an eyebrow at the ranger. “You might think you’re fine for now, but tomorrow, you’ll wake with bruises that will make you regret the motion you’re putting it through today.”

“Let tomorrow worry about tomorrow,” Armsden chuckled, his laugh bright. “After all, what worry of tomorrow will help me today? Nothing, I tell you.”

I just sighed and climbed onto the gray mare that had been my horse for a few years.

“They’ll learn one day, won’t they, Stormy?”

The horse neighed and shook her head at me, her eyes looking back in sarcastic agreement.

With that, we rode towards the nearest settlement, where we would allow the rangers to rest and recuperate while Argonui planned our next movements.

---

“We have enough coin, and if you cannot spare the stable space, we can purchase the fodder for our horses,” Argonui bargained with a short, fiery innkeeper’s wife. “

“We can spare the stable space,” she replied. “It’s not like we’re using it at the moment. But we’re not going to let you pay. We know what you are,” she looked at our cloaked forms. “We know what you keep at bay. We may not have much, but this is what we can provide for our protectors. Do not take that away from us.”

Argonui sighed, the coin purse falling back into a pouch kept on his belt.

“We’ll take two rooms,” He replied. “As well as whatever stew you have on the pot in the common room.”

“I only have one room I can spare,” She replied. “But you are welcome to it and what I have on my hearth.”

While Argonui spoke to her, I looked around.

This was a hamlet at best; there were scarcely ten or so houses, and only five of them looked as if they’d been lived in for the last few years. The woman renting out a room and space in her stables for us wasn’t really an innkeeper. This was just the closest thing they had to such.
I had already planned on leaving my share of the plunder from the trolls with her and this settlement, but when I met Argonui’s eyes and shared a look, we knew that both of us would be leaving our share here.

This place had suffered dramatically over the last winter and was diminished. They were barely growing enough food to sustain themselves, but the next town over had some young men they could hire. With the hope for the future we would eventually see this place become a standard stop for wayward travelers. But we wouldn’t find that out for a great many years in the future when I returned from a long journey.

I volunteered to care for the horses as the other four went inside.

Pulling Stormy’s saddle and saddle blanket off, I grabbed a light towel gifted to me in Rivendell and began rubbing the filth of the day off her coat. I filled a small trough with fodder and set all the tack and saddlebags on a small shelf to the side of the stable.

I then repeated this for all of our horses, including the two pack animals with us.

The coin would be safe under the heavy gear, even if it were stolen by these people. They likely needed it more than we did, anyway.

That chore took an hour or so, and I walked inside to a heavenly smell. A beef stew served with fresh bread was waiting for me. The others had already retired, but I sat at the small table in the common room and asked for a bowl.

“We don’t see many Elves these days,” she sat across from me. “Must be something important going on if you’re with them.”

“Not as such,” I smiled. “Argonui has been as a brother to me, and I myself am a wanderer of sorts.”

“What are you looking for?” She asked, her old eyes searching mine for something.

“Well, for one thing,” I stroked my chin. “I’m looking for a way to grow a proper beard,” I winked at her and laughed. “Speaking of which, do you have any recommendations for hair growth?”

And the conversation flowed long into the night before I stepped out of the house and made for the stables. Stormy was a good horse, and she’d understand my need to be able to see the stars.

I led her out to the pasture, and she began to graze while I lay down on the grass and looked up at the night sky.

It was a sky that felt both familiar and foreign all at once. For every celestial body that was different, there was something familiar. I could see Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, but there was no Orion's Belt nor any sign that the North Star or Sirius existed. With my new eyes, I could make out stars and planets in a way that I never could have before.

And with a heavy and happy sigh, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. Middle Earth might not have started that way, but it was now home.

 

[Blasterbot]

“Well, for one thing,” I stroked my chin. “I’m looking for a way to grow a proper beard,” I winked at her and laughed. “Speaking of which, do you have any recommendations for hair growth?”

The dwarfs will love this elf.

 

[ATP]

The dwarfs will love this elf.

Yep,especially if he manage to start making some whisly for them./Not for humans,it could made them sick !/

 

[posh-goofiness]

Missing threadmark

 

[MarkWarrior]

Missing threadmark

Fixed it.

 

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 6

The sun rose over the horizon, and as the first beams of light illuminated the small village, the Rangers stirred and began packing.

Cemenyan’s ribs had recovered some through the night. The miracle of Athelas and the blood of Kings that ran through Argonui’s veins had seen to that.

“You’re on the mend,” I checked the bruising on the ribs, replacing the wrappings with fresh ones. “But you will need to remain here until you are completely healed, lest you end up causing more internal damage.”

“Aye,” Cemenyan grunted, glancing up at his chief. “I’m afraid I will not be able to patrol for a time.”

“He can stay as long as he needs,” the old widow spoke from the hallway. “I’m no great healer, but I can ensure he is well taken care of.”

“You will be given recompense for this task,” Argonui said, pulling out a small pouch of coins and handing it to the woman. I will not take no for an answer. This is one of my Rangers, and I will not have you feed and house him without payment.”

While Argonui argued with the stubborn innkeeper, I was tending to Armsden. Where his shoulder had been dislocated and then reset was now a mass of bruises, and his arm was scarcely able to be moved.

“Should Armsden remain behind as well?” I asked Argonui as I looked over the other ranger’s shoulder. “He should recover sooner than Cemenyan, but he will still be weak for a short time.”

“Nay,” Agronui shook his head. “Otkar and Armsden may resume their patrols,” he shifted to face the duo. “But they will patrol together instead of apart until Armsden has recovered.”

“And where are we to go?” I stood and rinsed my hands off in a nearby basin of water that had been provided.

“Well, while you were tending to the horses and admiring the night sky, I was looking at what you desired to be your share of the plunder.”

Argonui pulled the sealed leather and wax tube from his back and opened it at the top, pulling out a map. The map was old, and the markings were in ancient Elvish. The identifying marks showed that it was from a forgotten time.

“This appears to be from the First Age,” Cemenyan sat up and glanced at the map.

“Aye,” Argonui grinned. It is from the First Age. We will have to see if the paths still lie true. Randir, you and I will have to travel back to the House of Elrond. His library might hold the key to unlocking the secrets of history behind this.”

Argonui rolled the map back up and placed it back into the clearly enchanted container.

“We will continue our planned route, but you and I will have something to look forward to upon our return to Rivendell.”

And with that, we finished packing up the supplies we would need. Argonui and I left behind our share of the spoils aside from my new sword and map and his new bow. Armsden and Otkar departed while Argonui and I ensured that Cemenyan was well-supplied for his recovery.

I swung back up onto Stormy, and we were off. This patrol would last for the better part of a year, and we still had much ground to cover if we were to check on most of the settlements within the wastes.

But even as vast and untamed as it was now, Eriador was still beautiful. The hills and lowlands were haunting in their emptiness and glorious in their plumage.


Argonui insisted on surveying all the land that was his responsibility every two years, and this was that year. So, we were to go straight across into Bree, stopping to clear out any bandits or wolves that may have occupied Fornost Erain. We would then pass through the ruins and forts that had once been the strong fortifications of the Numenoreans. Some of them were used by the Rangers, and some were left empty in the hopes that they would one day be rebuilt.

But this journey would take the rest of the year, and while it was warm now, we would need to pick up cloaks and winter clothing in Bree before continuing onto and through the rest of Eriador.

---

The weeks went by as we rode through the wastes. There was no rush to be anywhere, so Argonui and I would pause and explore the regions around us as we headed for Fornost Erain. We passed through every small village and hamlet that lay on our journey, and Argonui always marked them in the journal that he kept with him.

“More men and women are willing to build and expand than there were in years past,” he said as we rode out of one of the villages. “That there is a Blacksmith in this one gives me hope. This was not here two years ago.”

“The freshwater springs they are next to will supply them for a great many years likely,” I glanced at the clear brook that ran next to us. “They’ll never run great ships down it, but given the timber in the area, they can probably float it downstream to the Brandywine.”

“We’ll see,” Argonui jotted down another note before placing the journal back into his saddlebags. “It’s a new village, and they will need to establish themselves first before attempting that sort of thing.”

And so we continued on for another few weeks before we stumbled upon someone who needed our aid.

“Whoa!” I pulled Stormy’s reins back as I pulled my bow off of my saddle and notched an arrow, loosing it at a nearby wolf.

The dark canine yelped and darted away from the circle of lightly armed dwarves, the rest of the pack snarling as Argonui drove an ash shaft deep into another wolf.

With two of their pack wounded, the wolves darted away, their barks and howls receding into the distance.

I kept my cloak up as Argonui dismounted, an arrow notched but not drawn as I allowed Argonui to take the lead. I didn’t want the rivalry between Elves and Dwarves to impact us here.

“Thank you,” an elderly Dwarf gave a small bow. “Nuri son of Furi at your service.”

“You may call me Strider,” Argonui nodded in return. “Where do you hail from, friend?”

“From many places,” he replied. “But most of us have departed from the Blue Mountains in the hope of furthering our fortunes elsewhere.”

“If you seek to move to new lands, then my companion and I can aid you in part of your journey,” Argonui replied. “You are armed, but we can scout ahead and ensure that the route remains clear for your group.

“I will gladly accept your aid,” the Dwarf seemed to sag in relief while some of the younger Dwarves seemed to bristle with anger as their nostrils in protest. “I am not so prideful as some of my kinsmen. I saw the Lonely mountain burn, and will accept aid where it is offered.”

“Then we will assist,” Argonui gestured for me to dismount. “This is my brother, Randir, and we will do all that is within our means to ensure that you arrive safely to your destination. But first, we should take care of your dead. I would not see them left to rest on the side of the road like this.”

 

[ATP]

And now,SI finally could get his beard.Or some good advices,at least.

 

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 7

Argonui and I had kept watch throughout the night, I took the shift among the darkest point of the night while Argonui slept, his cloak settled over his form in a rough blanket and a naked blade at his side.

Twenty yards away, the Dwarves slept by the fire with a couple of them keeping watch on the perimeter over by the other end of the fire.

I peered into the woods around us, the bright moon lighting the area for leagues around.

“You look like you could use some company,” one of the Dwarves approached, their voice softer than the others, a cloak hiding the figure and face.

“The second watch is often the one that leaves you the most alone,” I said, not facing them yet. “But company is most appreciated.”

“It is not often that help arrives in the wastes,” the Dwarf offered. “We have traveled for many months and nary run into a soul outside of the few towns and villages.”

“We are Rangers of the Dunedain,” I leaned back. “We oft spend time roaming this countryside, this was once our domain, and as such we are responsible for it.”

“What is your name, Ranger?”

“I am Randir,” I replied.

“And I am Noime,” the wind rustled and I glanced at the Dwarf, my Elvish eyes piercing through the darkness and seeing what was kept hidden.

“It is not oft that one meets a group of dwarves on the road,” I replied, a smile gracing my face as I realized that I was speaking to a female Dwarf. “But we will see that all of you arrive safely at the next settlement,” I looked at the tent where the leader of the dwarves had made his bed. “Nuri seems to have a great deal of common sense, and will lead you well.”

A gust of wind then blew through the small clearing, the air rushing through and driving the hoods of our cloaks down, revealing both of our secrets to each other.

Despite what I had heard through rumors and what I could recall of the LOTRs movies and trilogy, female Dwarves were nothing like what I had expected.

Her face was feminine, and her hair long and braided, tucked beneath her cloak. A dagger hung at her side and a solid set of boots on her feet.

“You are an Elf,” she locked eyes with me, daring me to say anything.

“And you are a woman,” I raised an eyebrow. “What of it? I have no quarrel with you. I am kin to Argonui. And I oft travel with the Dunedain, assisting where it is needed.”

“Aye,” she removed her hand from the pommel of her dagger. “I suppose that is true. In the spirit of cooperation, I shall keep your secret if you will keep mine.”

“Bargained well, and done,” I put my hand out for her to shake. “Now, you wished to help in keeping watch.”

“Aye,” she nodded, pulling her hood back up. “Now tell me, Randir. How is it that an Elf became a companion to one such as he?” She gestured toward Argonui.

“Well, I spent quite a few years in Rivendell, and Argonui oft seeks council from the House of Elrond….”

---

The rest of the journey went as expected, and Argonui and I escorted the dwarves to the next major settlement along the path.

After a week of traveling together, I had revealed myself to be an elf, and in the process was pleasantly surprised that they were not shocked nor angry. Especially when I started asking the right questions.

“Ahh, an axe is good, but there are more benefits to a polearm,” I made a thrusting motion with my arms as we stood arguing good naturedly around a fire. “It also lends itself well to the same strength that is used when you use a bow.”

“Aye,” Noime laughed. “But we Dwarves do not shine in that area of combat. Give us an axe or a sword and watch as we take all of you on in close combat.”

“I’m not saying that there aren’t advantages,” I exchanged glances with Argonui. “As history has proven, the best option would be a mixture of Men, Elves and Dwarves.”

“Such times are relics of the ages past,” Nuri sighed. “The time for the alliances of all of us is long gone…”

But as with all things, their journey together came to an end after a few months of travel.

“I am afraid this is where we must part ways,” Argonui dismounted and bowed to the party. “Our time together has been enjoyable, but Randir and I still have much to survey.”

“Aye,” Nuri nodded, looking at Bree before us. The city where man and Hobbit dwelt together alike. “We shall be content here. And if you should ever have need of us, then you need but to call.”

“It was a pleasure to spend these days with you,” I smiled at the party. “Fare thee well, Dwarves of steel and stone. And may Aule watch over your path.”

–
–

We left them behind and moved through the wastes together once again.

“We could have spent a few more days with them,” Argonui spoke after we had ridden for a few more leagues, a snicker in his voice. “It was interesting to see them interested in you.”

“I want my beard back!” I protested, stroking my barren chin. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’ve not had a beard the entire time that I’ve known you, brother,” Argonui taunted. “You have had nothing to miss. And to think that the Dwarves might possess secret ways to encourage growth?”

“It was worth asking the question,” I replied. “I once possessed a beard that was glorious, it glittered as if gold and bronze in the sun, and protected my face from wind and sun alike!”

“That may be so, but I cannot see it, and I do not think that you will grow one for many years,” Argonui stroked his own short beard. “But perhaps you wish to grow a beard for another reason. After all, it is not oft that one makes friends such as you did.”

“Don’t make me find your wife and have her knock some sense into you,” I glared. “I do not possess any such intentions with Noime! I didn’t even know that Dwarf women existed.”

“Aye,” Argonui’s face turned serious. “That we were able to meet one on the road shows that the world is coming to dire straits indeed. We must see what it is that they were fleeing from. For I doubt that they will be the only travelers on the road.”

“Agreed,” I nodded. “There is much ground to cover if we are to investigate the area that Nuri indicated they had initially begun their journey.”

“Randir,” Argonui replied after considering everything for a few moments. “I believe that there is much that is hidden from us.”

“Aye,” I shifted, looking into the distance. “I have a feeling that we have only just begun on this journey. Only Eru knows where we will end up at the end of it.”

“Have faith, brother!” Argonui laughed, his bright spirits filling me with a sense of hope even as I contemplated what I knew of the future. “For while our doom may be certain. There is much to live for before we meet it. Now ride with me. It is high time that I show you to my home.”