Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 11, 2002 17:04:21 GMT -5
Ok… I’ve never been good at writing but I just felt like putting this up… more for reference and a bit of fun than anything else so… enjoy!
Fox Birch: an Elf’s Story
The sun shone through the trees of Mirkwood. Fox walked alongside her horse, Eldoras, chewing thoughtfully on lembas. She steered east toward the river, all the while humming softly.
* * *
Fox reached the river six days later. After filling up her water pouches, she sat on a rock on the riverbank watching Eldoras.
Hours had passed and as Fox turned to leave, she felt a familiar presence across the river. She stopped and gazed over the river and saw…
“Dúnadan!” she cried to the man.
She hopped lightly across the river on natural stepping-stones and embraced the man like a brother. As he held her in a close embrace, they both felt as though all of their cares were being washed away.
“Fox Birch,” he said softly, “how are you my half-elven friend?”
* * *
The Dúnadan was a tall man; he was taller than Fox. He had dark hair and dark eyes. He carried a long sword and a dagger in his belt. Seldom was the Dúnadan seen in the company of another, for his travels were uncharted… as was his destination.
* * *
At length, Fox answered the Dúnadan’s question with a sigh.
“Strider, something is weighing very heavily in my heart,” she explained. “My mother has sent me away to see my father… and I knew better than to argue, for I felt it too.”
“Your father?” Strider asked, “I have just been to see him two weeks ago… he seemed in very good health to me, Fox.”
“Ah, but you do not sense that something is happening, Strider? You know much and have learned much more from the elves… but you have yet to learn one sense…”
Fox left this unexplained, but the Dúnadan understood.
* * *
Fox and Strider traveled together for four days: Fox walked while the Dúnadan (after much persuasion) rode on Eldoras.
“But my feet do not tire as easily as yours” she explained, trying to convince Strider to mount the horse. “And besides, I will only have to journey to the edge of the wood.” At this, Strider agreed to ride the horse. They spoke of many things and when there was nothing to be said, Fox continued humming softly.
At the edge of the wood, they stopped. Set before them were fields of what seemed like every color. Beyond them lay a still more untamed wilderness, apparently ending in tall mountains. Here, Strider dismounted.
Fox gazed into the distance. She had a look of deep thought about her. Without turning, she asked the Dúnadan, “You will not ride any farther?” He stepped beside her and answered “No, I must return to the north before winter; I plan to take the western road around so as to avoid most of the south.” Strider thought for a moment. “I think I should arrive in fourteen days.”
At this, Fox smiled and gave Strider her water pouches and a bag of lembas
“It is all I can give you,” she said. Fox glanced at Eldoras. “He will take you to your destination,” she added, patting Eldoras on the haunches.
“No,” Strider began “really, that won’t be-“
“He has already agreed to take you as far as you need to go. I will not put Eldoras through the dangers ahead.”
Before the Dúnadan could say any more, the elf was replaced by a small fox. Strider simply smiled as the fox started to run across the plains.
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 11, 2002 17:32:36 GMT -5
* * *
Fox slowed as soon as Strider was out of sight. She stopped and regained her concentration… she had a four-week-long journey ahead of her, and she had to stay on course, she had to conserve her energy, and she couldn’t be caught off guard. She had gotten around southern Mirkwood by taking the long way past the river, but there was no way around the dangers that lay ahead.
She walked cautiously through the plains, only stopping to scan the terrain… which remained quite unchanging for days. Finally, she reached the river a second time: it had curved away before, and was now flowing eastward again.
Fox drank at the river and rested on a rock after turning back to her elven body. She removed her boots and dangled her feet carelessly in the water.
“How strange…” she thought, “nothing… not a single orc or… anything… I guess I should be thankful…” she looked up at the sky. “But I am taking too long… I should get a move on…”
She took one last drink from the river and started off again.
* * *
It was a pair of days before Fox encountered anything at all…
An unfamiliar power was near… she couldn’t tell where it was, so she knelt in the tall grass and watched. Figures in black appeared from nowhere and floated through the plains. Fox still couldn’t identify them…
The creatures were clearly headed south… the same way she was going. She remained in the grass, debating whether to follow, or take another route… One of them spoke… or seemed to speak, so she listened:
Their words were harsh and cold… nothing like the speech of elves. Fox couldn’t very much understand their words, but she knew they had only evil purposes; she decided to follow.
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Post by Missy_Brown on May 11, 2002 17:51:02 GMT -5
[glow=blue,2,300] that is soo good fox! i cant wait till u write more! hehe keep it up![/glow]
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 11, 2002 17:57:52 GMT -5
*blushes* thanks missy... * * * It was a difficult journey. Fox remained in her elf form so as to keep an eye (and ear) on these strange creatures. The easiest part of the journey was the two days in the southern part of the plains: the ground was flat and green. It was also quite easy for Fox to remain out of sight. The things did not seem to be able to feel her presence. All of this changed however when they reached the cliffs. Fox’s energy was being depleted very quickly: she had not had anything to eat in a week, and nothing to drink since she had last seen the river. Still, she soldiered on. * * * Fox was beginning to grow weary. These creatures didn’t eat or sleep. And although Fox could do without sleep, she needed food and water. She had given her only bag of lembas to the Dúnadan along with her water pouches. Still, she somehow felt compelled to follow them... at least a bit longer… * * * It was quite a journey: for five days she trudged a little ways behind the dark creatures through the roughest terrain yet. As she climbed the sharp rocks, she gathered countless cuts and bruises all over her body. Fox never lost the lightness of her step… simply, she was loosing energy. She found it more and more difficult to keep up with the creatures… or were they moving faster? * * * The night was cool and quiet as Fox stood on the edge of a cliff. They had reached the end of the northern part of the ravine. She looked down. The ravine was fairly narrow… but very deep. She looked, still downwards for the dark creatures but… they were nowhere to be seen. She then felt their presence and looked up. They were floating across the ravine! She watched hopelessly as the creatures crossed, leaving her behind, with no hope of catching up to them. She did however notice that they were now heading southwest while she was going southeast. “What could they be looking for?” she thought. Her vision blurred slightly. She blinked them back to normal and decided she’d better start the three-day climb to the southern cliff. * * * Fox hoisted her body out of the ravine and stood looking back. “What were those things?” she asked herself. “I know not of any creatures that can fly without wings…” She blinked her eyes back to normal and tried to steady herself. She turned her back to the cliff and continued. There was a second expanse of sharp rocks. She sighed and kept moving. * * * It was a long six days before she got to the last of the rocky terrain. She looked back and let out a sigh of relief that she was away from the sharp rocks. It was hard to concentrate on the journey now. She was beyond exhaustion. Food didn’t matter to her anymore… it was the cold. The weather was getting much colder as she approached the mountains. She could see the top half of the mountain range covered in blurry snow. She couldn’t find her course anymore since she had been tracking the dark creatures. She only knew that she had to get over the mountains… one way or another.
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 12, 2002 19:43:46 GMT -5
* * *
There were a few sparse trees at the base of the mountains… at the top, she couldn’t tell; the top was no longer in view. Flakes of snow began to fall on her second day of climbing. She had almost reached the top on the third day, but felt as though she could not go on any longer. She found shelter from a passing snowstorm between some rocks and ate a bit of snow for her thirst.
Fox had a miserable time: she couldn’t move and was shaking of cold and hunger. She usually never had a problem with cold… but this was beyond cold… this was freezing. The pain of her hunger was numbed slightly, only to be replaced by the pain of her freezing body. If she didn’t keep moving, she would freeze to death. It was simple as that.
She had to go on. She stood up shakily and continued her climb to the top of the mountain. Her feet made no marks in the freshly fallen snow. She walked slowly, in and out of consciousness for the next two days, falling subject to sudden convulsions, fighting her way through the storm, and fighting for survival.
* * *
The end of her climb was near. She could now see the base of the southern face of the mountains. Fox’s heart gave a cry for joy, and walked on. She had made the seven-day journey through the mountains… and she was alive. “Of course,” she thought, “it takes more than a snow-covered mountain to bring down an elf.” Fox grinned to herself.
She came to the edge of a second forest: the Forbidden Forest. She knew that this forest was extremely vast… but she was glad to be able to thaw in the company of trees.
Fox also knew that, from here, it should only be another four days to her father’s house. Finally, she would know what was happening. She had taken too long already, and she knew it. Somehow, she felt as though she needed to hurry… that if she took too much longer, her journey might have been in vain… but why? Her thoughts became a blur, and reality sunk back into her mind. She was obviously not thinking clearly. If she tried to quicken her pace any more, she might not make it to her father’s at all… she walked on.
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 12, 2002 19:45:01 GMT -5
* * *
The forest was very menacing… she had never seen such a forest… except the previous southern Mirkwood, but that went without saying. There was no food to be found. She wondered if any creatures lived there… if they did, what did they eat?
Her sense of direction was being challenged. She tried to follow a path, but it seemed to lead almost in circles. She decided that it would be best to ignore the path and cut straight through the forest… but the trees seemed to group together, not letting her pass. She couldn’t understand it. “Why wouldn’t they let an elf pass?” she wondered. “Or maybe… it’s not me they fear at all…” She felt something… something much like the creatures she had been following more than two weeks before.
Fox seized her bow from her back and loaded it. She was turning slowly, trying to make something out in the blur of trees and shrubs. She was blinking furiously, but to no avail.
Suddenly, something struck her with a force that sent her up against a tree. She felt a sharp pain on her temple and felt the blood dripping down her cheek. She held her bow up again, but still couldn’t see anything except… a dark shape was approaching her fast. She shot it and it howled in pain, but it lunged at her and took the bow from Fox’s weakened grip. It grabbed her around the throat and held her in the air and pressed her against the tree.
She tried to take her blades from her back but the thing was squeezing her throat very hard; she could feel it’s claws starting to penetrate her flesh but couldn’t so much as call for help. It looked at her and grinned… he grabbed the arrow that was still protruding from his body and pulled it out effortlessly, throwing it to the ground. The creature took a cruel-looking dagger from his own garments and held the point up to Fox’s chest. He said in a cold voice, “why were you following us?”
Being caught completely off guard and not being able to breathe was not the problem, but that, even if she could answer, she would not know what to say.
He continued in the same harsh voice: “You cannot fool us… we know what you were trying to do…” the creature prepared to stab fox with his dagger and added, “but know this: we will not be stopped…”
The dark creature took the dagger from her chest and instead drove it deep into her stomach. She gasped and the thing let her fall to the ground. It smiled cruelly and walked over to where Fox lay. He turned her over and ripped the dagger from her body mercilessly.
“We will not be stopped…”
Fox clutched her stomach gasping for breath as she watched the blurry black creature disappear into the forest. She tried to call for help, but in vain. But she still had hope… somebody would hear her… somebody would come to her aid…
Her vision darkened and she went into sudden convulsions once more. Was this why she had come? To be killed only a day from her father’s house by some unknown creature? She blinked blood out of her eyes, of little use to her now, and waited. Waited for life or death…
Through the intense pain, she managed to feel something else… there was someone there. But it wasn’t a dark creature… no… it was someone who could be trusted… someone who could help. She turned her head in the direction of the presence and saw someone looming over her in the clearing. She tried to look at them curiously. They inspected her and her wound. “It’s a werewolf…” she thought, as her vision left her completely. “Good…”
“My name is Calavera,” she said. “Calavera Diablos. Don’t be afraid”
Fox heard this echo in her ears and tried to answer… but she couldn’t. She felt the werewolf pry her hands from her stomach and examine her wound. Fox couldn’t see what she was doing, but it didn’t hurt her, until… Calavera walked over to a nearby bush and gathered several large, purple thorns then walked back to Fox; she felt Calavera shove a thorn into her flesh and tried to cry out in pain. She felt Calavera drive the thorn farther into her stomach, then another, and another… and tears began to fill her eyes: tears of agony. Calavera put her hand on Fox’s forehead and realized she had a high fever, curing under her breath. The last Fox remembered was being hoisted up by the werewolf and being carried off into the trees.
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 12, 2002 20:14:46 GMT -5
* * *
She awoke to the same sharp pain in her abdomen. Fox opened her eyes and saw a girl taking bloody thorns from her body.
She had short, red hair and several earrings on each ear. She couldn’t make out too much else… except that she had amazingly yellow eyes. Several wisps of hair rebelling against the rest gave Calavera a somewhat wild look. Fox tried to talk through shallow, gasping breaths:
“Hello…” Calavera jumped a bit and looked surprised at Fox, who continued. “What is your name, werewolf?”
The girl didn’t know what to say; did this person just call her a werewolf? She thought for a moment and answered, a bit irritated.
“My name is Calavera,” she began, “but you can call me Cally…” She hesitated. “And what on earth makes you think I’m a werewolf?! Do I look like a werewolf?!”
Cally looked down at herself. She was right… she didn’t look anything like a werewolf. In fact, the only thing that was even a bit strange about her was her yellow eyes and pointed ears. But that didn’t make her a werewolf, she thought.
Fox simply smiled weakly at Calavera and said softly “my name is Fox… Fox Birch. Elen sila lumenn’ omentielvo” She wondered then if Calavera knew what she was… She struggled to keep herself from passing out again. She coughed a few times and felt blood trickle from her mouth.
Cally’s irritation subsided quickly. Of course, she thought. She’s delirious. The girl returned to dressing Fox’s slow-healing wound. Fox kept her jaw clenched, waiting for it to be over. Suddenly, Fox remembered her father. As Calavera was fastening a cloth around Fox to keep the thorns from coming out of her wound, Fox sat up… but then let herself fall on her side, clutching at her stomach again. Calavera, surprised by Fox’s outburst and not knowing what to do, turned Fox on her back who had her eyes and mouth shut tight in pain.
“You have to rest,” said Calavera. “The wound hasn’t closed yet. I don’t understand… it’s been three days… I’ll get you some food, too. I’ve never seen anyone so gaunt before…” She trailed off. Calavera left to get food and water, thinking to herself. Meanwhile, Fox started to panic…
Three days, she thought. She should have been there by now… he’s waiting for her… he’s probably worried… she had to leave here… it’s late… maybe too late.
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 12, 2002 21:05:36 GMT -5
* * *
Fox gathered the small bit of strength she had left, and stood up. As soon as she did, however, there was nothing she wanted more than to lay back down. She gathered her weapons and put them on her back, whispered a namarie to Cally and ran way silently. It took every bit of willpower she had, but Fox ran the eighteen hours to her father’s house. The front door was open; he was waiting in the living room.
* * *
Fox stopped in the doorway, holding herself up on a table next to the door. She was in a cold sweat and her bandages were now soaked with blood… but she waited. She looked at her father. Why wasn’t he saying anything? He just sat there.
Finally, he stood up… shakily. Fox watched him curiously as he staggered towards her. As he got nearer, Fox smelt something on him. The smell was new to her, so she didn’t know that it was alcohol, nor did she know about people being drunk.
“So… you have a good time?” he asked, pushing her brusquely.
Fox was in disbelief. Could her father have gone blind? No… he was looking right at her. Maybe it was because of the dark, it is night after all… but his home was lit as if it were daytime. Maybe it was the cold of winter that numbed his perception… but she saw that he was wrapped quite warmly and had a fire going in the den. Why then couldn’t he see that she was in pain?
After a few minutes of silence, her father chuckled. Not a warm, wholesome chuckle, but a cold and empty one. She looked at him closely, trying to get him into focus, but she was grabbed by her arm and thrown onto a wooden chair in the living room. She gave a small wince but her father just slammed the door shut and turned to face her… an empty smile still on his face.
“Well? Did you have a good time?” he asked again. But this time, he didn’t wait for an answer. He wobbled a bit as he spoke, towering above her. “So, who is it? Eh? You’re seeing someone… is this shmuck more important than your father is? Huh?! I was worried sick about you!!” Here, he hit Fox hard on the face. Her temple began to bleed again. He hiccuped and went on. “You are the most irresponsible person I know! You are the worst daughter in the world and I hate you! You were always too much like your mother… so selfish and inconsiderate! Now your brother and sister are out lookin’ for you in the cold! You show up, almost a week late, actin’ like you didn’t do anything? Ha!” He hit her again. This time she was knocked out of her chair. Her father grinned and walked over to the mantle. He served himself some golden liquid into a small glass and drank it. It looked quite unpleasant.
When he recovered, he stomped angrily to where Fox lay and pulled her up by the collar. He shook her and pinned her against the wall. If she could see, she might have noticed that her father was blinking furiously; his vision was blurred too… but not from exhaustion or hunger… not from pain or blood loss… his vision was blurred because of a golden liquid sitting on the mantle.
* * *
“You think you can make a fool of me, boy?” Now Fox was thoroughly confused. Did he just call her “boy?” Fox wished she had never followed those… those things. Now her father hated her and couldn’t think straight. She hated herself. She tried to think of something to help him… but it was no use. He hit her several times until she was on the ground again. He smiled wickedly and headed back to the fireplace, mumbling to himself all the while. But this time, he reached above the mantle; he took a short silver wand from his wall and walked back to where Fox was. He did something to it and she heard it click.
Fox gazed at the blur that was her father. She lay limp on his living room floor next to a wall. She didn’t try to guess what he was going to do next. He muttered something like “stupid idiot” and “this’ll show him” and pointed the thing at her chest. This situation was new to her also, but she knew it couldn’t be good. Her stomach was writhing and her entire body was aching. All she could think was she was too late.
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 12, 2002 22:00:00 GMT -5
* * *
Moments later, the living room was rid of all noise except the shallow breathing of someone on the floor. Fox lay, angry with herself for not being able to stop him. She didn’t care that her father had shot her with his wand… maybe she did deserve it. He had missed the mark by a mere two inches; he couldn’t aim correctly. But she couldn’t understand why he would kill himself. She wished he had succeeded in killing her instead… what would her brother and sister say? What would her mother say? Her eyes filled with tears of many emotions: anger, sadness, pain, regret, confusion, disappointment, and shame.
There was someone at the door and Fox fell unconscious yet again.
* * *
Fox awoke in a small room a week later. She lay in a tiny bed, under a very colorful blanket. She smiled lightly. Never had she seen anything so vibrant. She had almost forgotten about everything that had happened to her, until her brother came in. He was holding a tray of food. He set it down on the nightstand and opened the curtains. It was very bright outside: the whole of the land was now covered in snow. Her brother turned and jumped a little at seeing Fox already awake. She smiled at him.
“Hello, Frank,” she said.
“Hey…”
“What’s going on?”
“Er…” he glanced at the tray. “Well, I guess it’s time to eat… Cris told me to bring you some food, just in case you woke up. We’ve been doing this for a week now.”
Fox’s smile faded. The reality of the situation sank into her mind. Her brother and sister must hate her now, she thought. And why wouldn’t they? She killed their father.
There was a voice from the hallway. “Who are you talking to?” Moments later, a nineteen-year-old girl with dark auburn hair and dark brown eyes stepped into the room. Fox wished she could hide. She looked at her.
“Hi Cris…”
“So…” said the girl quite coldly. “You’re finally awake…”
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 16, 2002 19:54:54 GMT -5
* * *
Fox nodded. She tried to sit up but was pushed back down by her brother and sister. “You have to rest,” said Cris. “So you can get better…” added Frank. Somehow, Fox knew that Cris didn’t share Frank’s point of view. She knew that she just wanted her out. It turned out that Cris had gotten home from the holidays only a few weeks before from Hogwarts. Fox had only heard about this school; her mother didn’t want her to go there. In fact, for as long as she could remember, her father was trying to convince her mother to let Fox go to this special school. It had been one of the reasons her father left Mirkwood. Her father knew her mother wouldn’t change her mind.
* * *
Several days later, Fox was slowly regaining her health. But she felt as though she had lost everything else. She knew she couldn’t stay with her siblings any longer.
It was Christmas… but it was unlike any Christmas Fox had ever seen before: just like any other day. Now, Fox had only seen and heard of the Christmas celebrations of men, but she knew they had to be different than this.
Frank and Cris were lounging about in the living room. He was writing while she was reading. Fox had already gathered her things. She looked at them one more time from the doorway then went into the kitchen. She put a batch of lembas that she had cooked earlier into a small leather pouch and headed for the door.
Fox whispered a namarie to her family and disappeared into the snow.
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 17, 2002 1:43:09 GMT -5
* * *
Fox had a lousy time finding the river in the forest. But she was determined to not loose sight of her destination or slacken her pace. She spent several days in the forest, slowly making her way north. She found the river at last.
The river did not bring her joy like it had only months ago. She looked at it solemnly then kept walking, resolved to getting home as quickly as possible… She didn’t know why she wanted to go home. She knew that her mother would hate her for doing what she did… because Fox knew how much she still loved her father.
Following the river made the distance of the trip longer, but helped her find her way through the mountains much faster, since she didn’t have to climb them. She later realized that, on her way to her father’s house, she had stupidly chosen the tallest and most dangerous mountain to climb. After having lost the river on the southern face of the mountains, Fox continued up and over range until, a few days later, she found the river that now flowed northward.
The days were short and the nights were long. Fox trekked northward, back to her home. She tried to keep to following the river. Since she and the river were flowing in the same direction, she might have had an easier time if she had built a boat. But Fox figured that a day spent building a boat would be better spent on the road.
Eventually, Fox reached the northern side of the vanwa valley with only a few injuries. She sighed and made her way through the plains.
* * *
It was four days into the plains when Fox was found running alongside the river, the same thoughts racing after her: “not again.. oh, vanimar, please… not again…”
She ran for five days… across the tenn’ ambar metta plains and through southern Mirkwood. She found herself at home, searching frantically for her mother. She avoided looking in the room for the sick… and hoped with all her might to keep it that way. She searched the gardens and the terrace, the lake and the library… but there was no sign of her mother. She ran against hope to the room for the sick… and found her. Fox’s heart sank.
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 18, 2002 14:48:10 GMT -5
* * *
She was lying in a bed. Fox only looked at her. What more could she do? Only a few months ago had Fox left home and now she returned to find her mother on her deathbed. It was very rare for an elf to die; Thranduil stood beside the bed, looking grave. Fox had never understood why, but her mother had always said that her love would bring her to the end of her days. Her mother was pale in her bed; her time was near.
Fox approached the bed shakily. Thranduil turned to her; Fox bowed to him and said “King Thranduil, is she…?” He only nodded. Fox turned to leave, tears welling up in her eyes, but Thranduil held her back. She turned to look at his face, but he was looking at her body, a shocked look on his face. He wanted to ask what had happened, but instead lead her to her mother’s bed. She wanted to leave… she wanted to run out of the room and never return… but she stayed, and watched her mother die.
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 20, 2002 19:43:39 GMT -5
* * *
Fox stood in the solitude of the gardens. Seven days ago, her mother had died. And there was nothing she could have done to help her. Fox recalled her last words with bitterness: “Tell your father that I love him… I always have… and I don’t regret it.” These were her final thoughts, her last wishes. Fox was angry with herself for not being able to deliver this message; it was her own fault that she couldn’t. The King had tried to talk to her, but he never knew what to say. What could he say? This wasn’t something that happened all the time in the elven kingdom, so it wasn’t something that was dealt with easily.
Thranduil’s son had recently arrived from his own quest. When he heard what had happened, he too tried to comfort Fox.
“You’ve always been my most dear friend, Fox,” He said. “And if there is ever anything I can do for you, I hope that you will not hesitate to ask.”
Fox didn’t say anything at first, but gazed into the depths of the forest before them. At length, she replied.
“Legolas, I thank you for trying to help me… “ She paused. “But there is nothing you or I can do. You see…” She stopped herself. Fox didn’t want her dearest friend to know how she had failed her parents.
Legolas did not pressure her, however, and for that she was thankful. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed for her parents, for what she hoped would be the last time. Legolas looked at Fox fondly and put his hand on hers. She took her hands from her face and Legolas held them and smiled at her. She smiled back and threw her arms around him. She whispered “thank you” in his ear; Thranduil smiled down upon them as they held each other in a tight embrace.
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 22, 2002 1:57:04 GMT -5
* * *
Many months passed. Fox’s wounds healed slowly. She regained her strength in the company of her friend, Legolas. They went on journeys and practiced shooting. One day, during their practice, Fox received word from her sister.
Legolas sat by Fox as she read a letter delivered by a strange bird that she had only seen before by night. When she finished reading it, she folded the letter with trembling hands and put it I her pocket.
Noticing her state, Legolas put his arm around her.
“They want me to go back,” she said.
“Would you like me to come?” asked Legolas quickly.
Fox shook her head. “No… whatever they need me for they will get only me. I don’t want to put you in any danger.”
“And I don’t want you to be out there by yourself. Let’s be honest, you’re very lucky to be alive, Fox. I think it’d be safer if I went with you.”
Fox gave in to Legolas’ persistence. By mid-summer, the two were on their way.
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Fox Birch
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Post by Fox Birch on May 22, 2002 10:49:45 GMT -5
* * *
They rode for the first six days. Eldoras did not mind carrying two; elves were very light. Fox and Legolas spoke to each other and sang elvish ballads. When they reached the river, they dismounted and sat on the riverbank watching Eldoras gallop through the forest.
Finally, Legolas spoke. “Why were you called back?”
Fox looked up from the river at Legolas. She answered softly, “I’m not sure.” She turned back to the river in thought. Why was she called back? Surely her brother and sister still hated her. Why would they ever even want to see her again?
Legolas looked to the sky. “We should move on… we don’t want to loose too much time here.” Fox silently agreed. He filled their water pouches and Eldoras came trotting back to them. They continued riding bareback as elves do for four days to the tenn’ ambar metta plains.
They dismounted again at the edge of the forest. Fox patted Eldoras’ mane and he galloped back into the forest.
* * *
The elves walked across the plains; the blades of grass didn’t so much as bend beneath their feet. They reached the river once again after three days. After filling their water pouches once more, Fox and Legolas pressed on. They both hadn’t eaten for days; they were saving their food for the harder road ahead. But this wasn’t what was troubling them: both, Fox more so than Legolas, felt a presence. But of the two, it was Fox that knew what hunted them. She had first felt the familiar dark presence only two days ago.
They hurried across the plains, but Fox already knew it was no use. They would never make it through the vanwa valley in time. She silently recalled how the creatures had floated across the ravine, leaving her on the northern cliff.
Fox and Legolas ran tirelessly across the plains for three days. Upon reaching the cliffs, they tried to keep up their pace but were slowed down by the sharp rocks cutting at their bodies. They struggled and toiled against time, both knowing they couldn’t win.
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