Credit for creating Middle Earth and all the races and languages connected with it goes to J.R.R. Tolkien. This is set in the Fifth Age.
*The ancient harbor of the Eledhrim, or Eldar, had survived the changes of the passing ages of Middle Earth. The once bustling city was now relatively quiet. Subdued voices talked quietly as their owners pursued their business silently. The graceful style of High-Elven architecture had stood the test of time, remaining much the same as it had been. Of course, to a Lore Master like Aeroniel this was a reassuring sameness. To a wanderer it seemed almost deserted and rather sad. Most of the Eldar had departed Middle Earth at the end of the Fourth Age.
A tall, slender woman moved down the stone-paved street quietly. Her long earth brown dress was gathered closely to her waist by a belt of woven gold. A green cape hung over her shoulders and was clasped near her neck with a brooch of fine Elven manufacture. The light breeze ruffled her hair. In the distance the screech of seagulls sounded upon the ear, and as she walked out along the ancient wharf of the Grey Havens she looked up in the bright blue sky and watched the swooping, graceful flight of the seagulls. The sun shone down upon the water of the harbor, glinting of the tops of small waves and ripples. The salty ocean breeze was invigorating and in the distance, Aeroniel's pointed ears caught the sound of the ocean's waves booming along the shore.
It had been a long time since any of the famous silver, swan-ships departed for the land beyond the Sea from this city once guarded by Cìrdan the shipwright. He himself had left them many years ago, long before Aeroniel herself had been born. She walked to the end of the Wharf and stood there in silence, thinking about the changes that had come over this place, small and subtle though they were. It was beautiful. This place was truly her home. The soul of the quiet Elf was drawn to this place and held here as if by a magnet. No matter where she went, she always came back.
She reached up with one delicately shaped hand and brushed loose strands of her brown hair behind her ear. The wind had pulled them from the elegant coil at the nape of her neck. Quietly she sang to herself in a low melodic voice as she watched the sunrise over the harbor. The ancient beacons were still in their places as of old, to guide mariner's at night. A bell rang in the distance, its chime not really disturbing the city.*
*After watching the sunrise for a bit Aeroniel turned and walked quietly back down the wharf and along the street of the Elvish town of Mithlond, known to others as the Grey Havens. Her poise was balanced and her step graceful. She nodded in greeting to people as she passed them. Two young Elf children ran past her, laughing merrily as they raced toward the wharves. Aeroniel smiled to herself. Laughter was good. The sun was warm. She felt very alive.
Passing the town centre, she turned and walked down a side street to a stately edifice with finely sculpted eaves in the shape of swans. As she crossed under the archway and entered the quiet shade of the building she was acutely aware of the fact that she was now inside. The coolness of the ancient Library of the Mithlond Elves was in sharp contrast to the warm sun that had been beating down on her shoulders as she walked outside.
She looked about herself, making note of the thousands of scrolls and books carefully organized and placed upon shelves built into the walls by a master craftsman. Tall reading desks were scattered here and there on the main floor. Chairs were tastefully placed at strategic locations to catch the light. A breeze rustled through the building as the balconies and porches around it let in the fresh air. The flap of pages blowing in the wind fell upon her ears and she bent her steps in the direction of the sound. She picked up a book that was lying on the floor, its pages flapping in the wind. She glanced at it. The wind had blown it open to a drawing of the Last Homely House in Rivendell. She looked at it quietly. It had been awhile since she had left the Havens.
Deciding that she wished to travel freely for a bit and experience the freedom of roaming across the beautiful land of Middle Earth, she placed the book back in its place on a shelf that was over her head. She stretched lightly, reaching up to put it back. Then, humming quietly to herself she walked up the curving stairs that led to the second floor.*
*Moving gracefully through beams of light that shone in upon row after row of scrolls stored in a meticulous order, Aeroniel reached an out of the way corner that was her favorite nook in the library. A low chair stood next to a large open window, and on the floor a harp rested. It was a good-sized harp, but not so much so as to be a burden to carry. She knelt next to it and lovingly placed her harp inside its specially made bag for traveling. Standing up, she slung the strap over her shoulder and looking about herself, quietly glided down the long aisle past all the scrolls, down the steps, and out into the street which was by now in a fairly bustling state.
Bending her steps down the street, Aeroniel approached a low building from which the sounds of horses fell on her keen ears. She smiled and murmured a greeting to the stable-boy as she passed, reaching into a concealed pocket in her gown and tossing him an apple that she usually saved for him to give his favorite horse or eat himself as it suited him. Stepping into the building, she walked directly toward a largeish stall at the end, only glancing at the other horses in passing. A low nicker greeted her as she opened the gate and spoke quietly to her horse, Alagos. She always made the time to visit her and groom her carefully and a close relationship between the two was the result.
Alagos' ears flicked forwards to catch the low voice of her mistress as she ran her hands through the mare's silky soft flowing gray mane. Aeroniel smiled, noticing that Alagos had sensed the excitement at this unusual change as her horse pranced in her stall on her shiny black hooves. After a moment or two of greeting, Aeroniel lightly jumped onto Alagos' dappled-grey back, riding bareback without a saddle as was the old custom of the Eledhrim. Nudging Alagos gently, they both moved out of the stable and into the street. The horse and rider moved quietly through the people on the street and headed out along the path leading to Rivendell. As they moved away from the heart of the town, the amount of people around them noticeably diminished.
As the last sounds of the Elven port of Mithlond disappeared from Aeroniel's keen ears, she spoke quietly to Alagos and her horse responded instantly as the two of them flew across the wide plain at a fast run. Alagos mane and tail flowed in the wind, Aeroniel's long brown hair, loosened by the wind, fell from the coil she had placed it in and whipped into her face. Eventually they slowed to a walk that ate the ground away. Aeroniel laughed, a long rippling contagious sort of laugh and stretched her arms wide with the joy of being alive. The warm sun, the butterflies, the birds, the wind, the grass, the trees, the powerful horse...all these things seemed so very alive and full of hope. Aeroniel was happy and lighthearted. Her spirit soared on the wings of the wind, flying above merely earthly things. Being only 473 years old, the Elf was yet young as her people reckoned the passage of time. Horse and rider bent their steps towards the Last Homely House in Rivendell, once the home of Elrond Half-Elven, a person that Aeroniel had read much about. Her melodic voice was lifted in song in praise of Earendil as she and Alagos headed east towards their destination.*
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Copyright, 2009
