Not All Who Wander Are Lost (A Lord of the Rings fanfiction)

Chapter 1-Hobbits in Rivendell

Chapter One- Hobbits in Rivendell

-Rayel-

It was tranquil day in Rivendell, how it almost always was. The waterfalls cascaded down the mountain-side and the streams ran clear and turquoise among the smooth stones along the bank. The sunlight streamed down through the trees, filling the forest with a warm, soft green light. We were nearing the end of autumn, and soon it would be winter. Already I knew that there was going to be a harsh season in store for the World of Men. Rivendell was well hidden in the moorlands and foothills of the Hithaeglir or the Misty Mountains as the dwarves and mortals had come accustomed to calling it.

There was a rumor that in Lothlórien, the Elves had captured a mysterious creature known to us only as Gollum. The name seemed vague and unfamiliar to me, but that was alright. I was too young to recall those days. Well, I was young by the Elven standards. At the tender age of fifty-three, I was still a teenager and only seventeen in mortal years. I was still a child to the Elves in Rivendell, and I would remain a child until reaching the Age of Reckoning: a hundred.

I was wearing a thin pair of trousers that day, a pair of deer -skin boots and a thin, airy green blouse. Around my waist was a leather belt, with my sheathed hunting knife and several pouches containing miscellaneous items I had gathered in the past few weeks. The women in my community said I was strange, even abnormal to them, especially considering the fact that my "dress code" differed so much from theirs. I removed the messenger bag from my shoulder and dug around inside mumbling: "Where is it? Ah, there it is!" I produced my leather-bound journal from inside my bag, along with a set of charcoal pencils. I opened my journal and skimmed through the pages, smiling at some of the recent sketches I had done recently. My long, coppery-colored hair fell into my eyes and quickly tucked it behind my pointed ears.

"Strange girl." I heard someone say.

"Yes, very strange."

I turned to look over my shoulder, spotting two women gawking at my appearance. They both wore long, feminine dresses, violet and pale-blue in color. They both had blue eyes and long, cascading blonde hair; the faces were perfect and blemish-free. The Elves were the exact picture of beauty and perfection.

"I can hear you!" I snapped, shooting them both an icy glare. "Just because I don't chose to parade myself around like a pompous fool, like you both seem fit to, doesn't mean anything out of the ordinary."

"Whatever you say, Lothrayel," they rolled their eyes.

Bitter and hurt, I watched them cross over the bridge and disappear back into the borders of Rivendell. The Elves are supposed to be loyal to their kinsmen, but I wasn't their kin. Nor would I ever be fully accepted into their social status. Yes, I was a full-blood Elf, but that didn't matter much, especially since my parents were dead and my Uncle Elrond was slightly ashamed of my behavior recently. His daughter, Arwen was exactly the picture of what a High-Blooded Elf should behave and look like. She had long, thick dark hair, shining blue eyes and a smile that could capture the heart of any man- mortal or Elf. She was honest, courteous, beautiful, soft-spoken and a leader. She was the pride and joy of on this side of Hitaheglir; always has and always will.

My Father was Elrond's brother and my mother was from Lothlórien. I don't remember much of my life with them, they were killed by orcs when I was merely five years old. Somehow the warg riders hadn't killed me, but instead they marked me and left. Then I was left alone with my battle-fallen parents. I had been alone for two days before I was scooped up by a Ranger who aged thirty-four. He was young, a half-blooded elf that, turned out, lived with my Uncle in Rivendell. Aragorn was roughly eighteen in Elvish years, making him the closest thing I have ever known to a brother, father and a mother. He played all three roles for me, and was there for me for many years under whatever circumstances arose. Aragorn had recently been Bree, he mentioned something about seeking Gandalf the Grey, or Mithrandir as the Elves called him.