Title & Chapter Number: Of Elves and Myths Series: Tithen Adanath (Little Men) 1/1
Author(s): - Author's Index
Fandom: Tolkien/Mythology
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Certain familiar characters belong to Tolkien, others to various cultures, I think you know which ones. I do not know any Elvish really... the title I pieced together from using Dragon Flame (though I do realize it's Sindarin, and I'm not entirely sure the Elves of Lothlórien speak Sindarin most... *puzzled look*)... half asleep I might add. Hopefully it's right. I make no money.
Warnings: None
Betas: Gypsy, Lady T and Amy B.
Cast: Rumil
Timeline: TA
Spoilers: Nope
Summary: Rumil has planned a relaxing day with nature, but it doesn't turn out that way.
Notes: First off, just to head off any assumtions, these stories are not about the mythology of the Elves. They are stories containing mythology, sometimes combined, from Greek, Roman, Slavic, etc. cultures and incorporated into tales featuring Elves.
Second, there is no order to these as I write. Some take place during the War of the Ring, some take place after, some will probably take place before it. Others, still, aren't set in a specific time. The time setting is decided simply by what ideas come to me.
SPECIAL THANKS: To the following for beta reading for me: Gypsy, Lady T and Amy B. You're all just... wonderful!
Rumil set his pack down at the base of the mallorn tree as he gazed around the forest with a smile on his face. He'd been looking forward to this for a long time. Well, not that long, only a few weeks, really. The coming of the Fellowship into Lothlórien had been the prelude of more trouble for the Elves. As the Ring had crept ever closer to Mount Doom and the end of its journey, Lothlórien had come under three separate attacks by their enemies from Dol Guldur. They had not been the only ones to suffer such attacks; Thranduil's realm had been laid seige to as well. Luckily, neither of the dark forces were victorious.
The skills of the Galadhrim and their people had driven back their foes and Celeborn had later led the host of Lórien over the Anduin. The Lady Galadriel brought the walls of Dol Guldur down and the Elves had claimed victory. The skirmishes that followed, as they cleansed the land, did not bring many casualities to them. Much had happened since then. Celeborn and Thranduil had come together and divided Mirkwood, now having been renamed Eryn Lasgalen. Aragorn had been crowned King. Lothlórien had been a resting place for Elrond and Arwen on their way to Gondor. On Mid-Year's Day, Aragorn and Arwen had wed.
Things would never be as they once were, but they had been much quieter of late and Rumil had been granted a day he would cherish much. A chance to relax in the beauty and nature of Lothlórien.
He sat down, leaning up against the tree, content to spend a while there in the rays of sunlight that filtered through the canopy overhead. It didn't seem so very long, however, before his keen ears picked up a faint sound. He opened his eyes and looked around. He listened carefully for a few moments. It sounded like someone hammering at something.
He stood up, an annoyed look on his face. "Who in the world would be taking a hammer to anything in this forest? To Mordor with them."
He scooped up his pack and flung it over his shoulder, setting off in the direction of the sound. He had to stop several times and just listen to confirm that he was indeed going in the right direction. He finally came to a small open field. Here, the hammering seemed the loudest... though not extremely loud at all. Almost as if there were tiny little hammers. Rumil stopped and looked around, but he couldn't see anyone.
"Pen ennas?" he called out.
The hammering immediately stopped and he waited for someone to show themselves. No one did.
"If you do not show yourself I will assume you do not bring good intentions with you. Our people take the protection of this forest as a priority," Rumil spoke in the sternest voice he had.
A gruff and angry sounding voice answered him, "And just where do ye get off warning me like that!?!"
Rumil jumped a bit as he located the voice right next to him and looked upon a being that hardly came to his knee. He stared at the tiny man in awe as the tirade cotinued.
"My people been living here long afore you came traisping in here. Priority indeed!" He spat at Rumil's feet and the Elf took a step back.
The man was dressed in a bright, red jacket with silver buttons perfectly polished, brown stockings that vanished underneath a cobbler's apron and a three cornered hat upon his head. His dark, red hair fell to his shoulders, mixing into the long beard. His sharp blue eyes watched Rumil closely as he puffed on the pipe stuck in the corner of his mouth.
"Don't have much to say now do ya?"
Rumil blinked a few times. "Forgive me for staring... but... what are you?"
The man narrowed his eyes. "I'm an O'Malley is what I am!" Rumil wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he heard, "Dull-headed twit," muttered under the man's breath. He chose to ignore it for the time being.
"O'Malley? I've never heard of one, yet you say you've lived here long?"
The small figure rolled his eyes. "It's me name you pointy-eared pixie. You haven't got much as far as brains go do ye? All that hair must take up more room than I thought."
Rumil straightened to his full height and cast a scowling look at him. "I am no pixie! I am an Elf, one of the Firstborn, sir. I do not deserve such name calling!"
O'Malley tilted his head back a bit as he stared up at Rumil with raised eyebrows. "Well, alrighty, then. You don't have to get your knickers in such a knot about it." He reached a hand behind him and pulled out a tiny flask, pulling the top to take a drink.
Rumil wasn't easily quieted about the whole thing. "You would do well to have better manners. If this is how you greet everyone and hold a conversation, I would not wonder if you did not have any friends." He turned around and stalked off across the field while O'Malley just stood there, as if he was waiting.
Several moments later, when Rumil had almost made it to the edge of the field, he stopped and spun around to stalk back. He let out a huff of air as he stopped in front of O'Malley, who didn't look surprised to see him. Rumil took a deep breath and slowly let it out.
"I ask again, what is your race?"
O'Malley opened his mouth as if he were about to let out another string of mild insults, but seemed to think better of it. "I'm a Leprechaun."
"A what?"
"Goodness, lad, you're not too..." he stopped at the narrowed eyes looking down at him. He cleared his throat. "You've never heard of a Leprechaun?"
Rumil shook his head. "No. Are there many of you?"
O'Malley tilted his head a bit. "There's a few here and there." He took another drink from the flask, letting out a hiccup as he recapped it. Then he pulled open the lapel of his coat and dug into an inside pocket, pulling a shiny, gold thing on a chain. "Goodness me, I've got things to be doing."
Without so much as a, "Goodbye," he turned and dashed off into the tall grass. Rumil jumped forward to try and follow, but, for all his Elven eyesight, could not see him. He hunted around the area for a good long while before he gave up trying to find any place the little man could have gone.
Rumil shook his head and slowly walked back to the shades of the great mallorn trees. "Perhaps I've had too much of that wine we brought back from the wedding. Yes, that's it. I'm just drunk and don't know it."
He sat himself back under a tree once more and closed his eyes. He soon found himself off in his own little fantasies of practical jokes on his brothers. Time alone well spent always gave him a new bag of tricks to try out. After a while he become aware of something other than the wind pulling at his hair. He heard a pair of giggles just behind his ear and his opened his eyes, spinning around to look. He saw the tail of a red jacket disappear around the tree and loud laughter filtered back to him. He reached up a hand to touch his hair and met a horrendous amount of... sap.
"Ahhh!" With a thoroughly disgusted look, he pulled his hand away, staring at the excess gunk that coated it. He reached up both hands. It was practically in every strand of hair, from top to bottom. He groaned. "How am I ever going to get this all out before duty tomorrow?"
The sound of giddy laughter answered him and he narrowed his eyes. He jumped to his feet, his soundless strides taking him through the trees as he followed, catching glimpses of red here and there. The trail of giggles led him back into the field.
He pulled up short when an angry yell of, "What have you two been up to?" rang out. He looked around for a moment, trying to see anything when suddenly O'Malley was in front of him. His face was red with anger and in each hand he had the collars of two young male Leprechauns who were red-faced themselves, though with shame.
O'Malley shrugged a bit. "Mr. Elf..."
"Rumil, my name is Rumil."
"Uh... that's a very odd sort of name. Anyway, I'm very sorry, me boys just get into trouble in all the wrong places."
Rumil self consciously patted his hair and tried to smooth it back without progress. "Er, yes, they do."
"Harmless pranks, of course, but all the same they're very sorry." He gave each boy a shake. "Aren't ya?"
"Yes," they answered simultaneously.
Rumil knelt down. "'Tis a wise thing not to mess with an Elf's hair." He leaned closer conspirationally. "Especially if it is an Elf named Haldir."
They both giggled and smiled. O'Malley gave them a light shove. "Off with ya, don't let me catch you meddling again," he said gruffly, though he wore a cheery look. They dashed off with giggles, soon disappearing. "Quite sorry, though I can't promise it won't happen again. Here." He took something out of a bag at his side and handed it to Rumil.
Rumil looked at it for a long moment and then held the tiny item by his thumb and forefinger. "Um... why thank you. You do not have a pair?"
"Er... no."
"It 'tis well made, but not exactly my size." Rumil pondered the small shoe between his fingers. "But I thank you for your thoughtfulness." He carefully placed the item inside his tunic and patted it with a smile. "I shall treasure it. Good day to you. I have quite the task ahead of me." He pointed to his hair. "And it's best to get started right away."
~*~*~*~
Orophin and Haldir were on the forest floor animatedly conversing about something. Haldir looked up, relief washing over his face and he nudged Orophin and pointed behind him.
"Ah! There you are, Rumil, you've been gone so long we were wondering..." Haldir stared at Rumil as he came closer. "What happened to you?"
Rumil scowled at his brothers as they gawked at him and he angrily brushed by them, not wanting to hear much of anything they would have to say. His hair was partially wet and clumpy. He climbed up the ladder and was in the trees before they found the will to move and follow after him.
Haldir sprinted to catch up with Rumil, grasping him by the elbow. "Rumil. What has happened? You look... terrible."
Rumil tried to look as if there wasn't a problem in the world. "'Tis nothing. Just some sap."
Orophin laughed as he picked up a mass of tangled, sticky locks. "Some. It looks as if you tried to entice some troll by using your head as a breakfast platter."
Rumil slapped Orophin's hand away and growled at him. He turned and stalked off to his talan.
Haldir backhanded Orophin in the shoulder. Then he headed after Rumil once more. "Will you not tell us what has happened?"
"Maybe, but not today." He spun around suddenly, looking quite serious. "If you ever meet a small person, lower than your kneecap, called a Leprechaun, run in the other direction." He left a very confused Haldir and Orophin behind him, staring at his retreating back.
"Haldir?"
"Yes?"
"What is a Leprechaun?"
"I do not know."
Orophin turned to face his brother. "You know what I think?"
Haldir raised an eyebrow. "No, not that I can say I'm unhappy about that, though I do feel as if you're going to tell me anyway."
Orophin mimed downing a goblet of something. "I think he's been into that wine. Did you see his hair?"
Haldir sighed. "Yes, I saw it, I'm not blind."
"He ran into a tree, poor thing, then woke himself up a bit by dunking his head in the river. We shall have to watch what he drinks from now on."
Haldir merely rolled his eyes.
The End
~*~*~*~
Pen ennas - anybody there
~*~*~*~
~ Library Main ~
~ Author Index ~ Character Index ~ Title Index ~
~ Hall Of Fire ~ Gallery ~
~ Links ~ Shops ~ Map ~ News ~ Rules ~ Lists ~ ~
This page is in no way affiliated with New Line Cinema or Tolkien Enterprises, and no profit is being made.
The information contained herein is NOT to be used to spam or in any other way harrass its members. Be advised that abuse of this site will not be tolerated, and the appropriate legal action will be taken.
Hall-Of-Fire.Com v.4.0, Copyright © 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009 by Cristine Cook-Fireheart. All rights reserved. This web site may not be reproduced in any form, except as occurs in normal browser caching, without express written permission from the author.
Website by Infinite Connections Design.