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.