Most writers believe I will start writing my book with a special event or a specific moment. I would never think of doing that; it'd be too much of a waste of time. I had relied on not only my imagination, but my mind to think of the journey I was able to be apart of.
It all started back in the year of T.A 2941. My father had gone out early that morning to tend to our gardens and look for danger. We'd all heard of a rise of goblins and orcs who had now started to travel to and from our land. My father had never appreciated either, and had gone to pick them out from our land, making sure they wouldn't come back for a very long time.
On the offhand, I was able to do some things on my own such as check up on our bees whom enjoyed a nice chat at times, or a little buzz here and there. I often found them laying around my head when I awoke from my slumber, soft buzzings as if they were sleeping too. I recalled the conversation with father:
"Y/N, come here please.." My father spoke abruptly from the kitchen as I came out holding my very favorite bee who I took to naming Rathier.
"Yes, father?" I looked over at him. He had a bag slung over his shoulder as one might think of a satchel, and his hands were digging into a thick piece of honey comb.
"I am going off today. Stay with the home. Provide for the bees and our cattle. Don't forget to prepare the cream. I won't be back till the evening...keep a sharp eye out." He started to stand, leaving his other part of the honey comb for my own hunger.
"Of course, father!" I nodded and gave him a hug, sitting in his original place with a piece of honeycomb on one of our wooden plate. Handing him a flower from my hair, he smiled, before setting off for his daytime journey. You may wonder why he wasn't going to be a bear. A bear? Why would he be a bear? Well, my father is a skin-changer. He can turn into a bear.
Me on the other hand? I can turn into a bear, but I'm not as scary and beastly looking. More graceful, like a bird he says. I'm not hairy like my father either, though I have long, thick, H/C hair.
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I walked out into our beatiful garden, gates closed and the day so beautiful. Rathier buzzed around my head a little, before settling onto my tangle of hair, settling in the nook of my braid. I collected honey into jars, milked our cows, and found myself finishing everything much sooner than I thought before. I even found the dogs moving things around in our stable for when father came back. They were truly intelligent. Finally finishing the last churning of cream, I placed the jars outside in the river so they would be cool, honey stored in our pantry. "What do you think Rathier? Shall I find something to do and enjoy myself?" Rathier buzzed near my ear, and I smiled.
I found myself in the garden, surrounded by our beautiful willow tree and flowers. Book in hand, I began to read. Not some silly story of elf kings and queens as I had heard many times as a young girl, but instead I read about geography. The geography of places from the Shire, to over across the Misty Mountain. I had always wondered what it would be like to adventure, but my father actually letting me go seemed completely out of the question.
As I turned the page to examine my next map, I turned my attention to a sudden commotion near the gates. Multiple voices yelled out, and I abruptly got up from my place on the soft grass. In front of me, men, many men, were running in a frenzy towards our house. I wanted to do something, anything, but as soon as they were all in frame, I saw the bigger and taller frame of my father, in bear form, chasing them down. You see, my father isn't himself as a bear, though he is still humane. But for whatever reason, he was chasing them down. Before I could speak, I hid in a nearby bush, watching a taller man, and smaller ones run to our front door. Banging on it, it finally opened, and they closed it as soon as they filed in. My father's head made its way through the door a crack, trying to get through. I stood up through the bush and yelled out in Sindarin,
Adar! Dár!
My father taught me many languages, but I had recently been studying up sindarin, a very popular one among elves. He stopped, and turned, the door closing, and I heard the wooden plank drop locking both him and I out. His dark eyes gazed at me, before he slowly walked on his four legs towards our stable, knowing he had to leave them be and allow himself to return to normal. Skin changers can take hours to turn back to themselves.
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I found my way in through a window where my room resided, waiting till late evening to come upon me. I could hear chatter in our kitchen, and the smell of food. I peeked around the corner, seeing a group of what looked like dwarves scarving down our honey, fruit, and nuts, They looked quite rowdy, but also tired as if they needed a rest. But how come they had decided to come here? Barging in on our own pantry too. I sneaked back out the window, knowing they'd want some fresh cream, and grabbed a jar. I didn't know whether to trust them or not, but this was my home. Finding myself to the pantry, I poured some cream into a pitcher, walking into the kitchen from there and holding my breath.
"May I ask who thy are?" Y/N spoke quickly, holding a pitcher of cream you had just produced from the kitchen. Your free hand was drawn over your hilted dagger, just in case they wanted to try anything.
"Well, my dear," Came a lovely sounding voice among the ruckus of the group," My name is Fili, and this is our company; Thorin Oakenshield's company."
ESTÁS LEYENDO
A Journey with the Company: A Fili x Reader Story
FantasíaYou have lived your entire life with your father, Beorn, between Mirkwood and the Misty Mountains. One afternoon, a company of dwarves, a wizard, and oddly enough, a hobbit take shelter in your father's house after being chased in there by your fath...
