Cursed

I

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It was the year TA 3006 and I was living a peaceful life in Fangorn forest, with the likes of the Ents. They didn't acknowledge my existence until I met Treebeard, the shepherd of the trees. He did not mind my existence within the forest, as long as I promised to never harm it for myself, and protect it from others. And so I did. He never told any other ents of my presence, for he believed it would upset them. I was grateful for this. The last thing I needed was to be crushed by a gathering of ents.

I would scout out the forest almost every day, watching over the fortress of Isengard and the south of Rohan. I would sometimes see packs of orcs hunting around the forest, but the Rohan riders always came and slayed them before I could. Though, they would never step foot in Fangorn. I had asked Treebeard why, and he mentioned that the race of men was afraid of what lied in this forest ; scared of the whispers that shrouded it.

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I continued living amongst the ents for a few years, almost 12 years to this day, learning about their ways, as well as that of the areas surrounding, especially the Misty Mountains. They were very beautiful, climbing high into the sky. Mist surrounded the base of the mountain, making them seem as if they never came to an end. They were a force to be reckoned with.

I had snuck through the Gap of Rohan, along the River Isen that ran between the Misty Mountains and the White Mountains. I was fortunate that the forces of Saruman had not noticed me, since I had an uneasy feeling about where his trust lied. Gandalf had told me that they were good friends and strong allies, though that was many years ago, and before I could hear the clanging of weapons and the breaking of wood from Isengard.

As much as I liked living in Fangorn, it wasn't an ideal place for me. I was surrounded by many creatures and people outside of the forest. It was approaching my 30th year in Fangorn. Though many would consider that a long time, it went by in the blink of an eye in my lifetime. I was deciding whether I should travel again, perhaps to the forest of Mirkwood? I had lived there when it was called that of Greenwood, back in TA 1020. It was a beautiful place, under the rule of Thranduil, King of the Elves. He was powerful, but that power could not stop that of Sauron, and so it fell, becoming as it is known today as Mirkwood.

Sitting down at a small trunk I used as a desk, I layed out a map of Middle-Earth. I had acquired it while venturing around, in a library. I would mark down every place I had visited, what year, and the things I liked and disliked about them.

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I was lost in though, circling roads and marking arrows that suggested my next path of adventure, until I heard a gruff voice, clearing their throat. It was Gandalf.

"My Lady, I'm sorry to disturb you, but it has occurred to me that I will need your help in the times that come soon." He addressed me, wielding his staff as a walking stick. He had not changed a single bit.

"You have no reason to address me as such, Gandalf." I replied, calling him out on the name I was given. I didn't consider myself royalty anymore, for those times had long gone.

"My apologies, Y/N." He smiled at me, beginning to sit down on the trunk opposite me. He noticed my papers laid out in front of me, giving me a confused, but not surprised look. He knew I got bored of districts easily, unless something enchanted me to stay long enough. "Moving again, are we?" He asked.

I looked up at him "You know I enjoy travelling, even if the place is beautiful." He chuckled "I know." I looked back down at my work, planning my next journey to Mirkwood. "What was it you needed Gandalf?" I questioned him. "Ah yes, about that. It has come to my realisation that I believe the One Ring has been found, and has been held in the hands of a hobbit these last few years. I must hurry and get back to the Shire."

I stopped dead in my tracks. The One Ring? The ring to rule them all? I stared wide-eyed at the wizard in-front of me. How could he say something so blatantly.

"How did it come to this Hobbit?" I asked him, wondering out of all creatures, why a hobbit? "It seems he found it in the creature, Gollum's, cave. He lives up in Bag End now. Bilbo Baggins held onto the ring for 60 years, and it has now been passed to his cousin, Frodo."

"And why are you telling me this? I would have no use for it." I replied, realising that if I had the One Ring, I believe nothing would change. I would still be the same, lonely being. "I need help to destroy it." My full focus was now on Gandalf. To destroy the ring would mean travelling to Mordor. It must be cast into the lakes of fire in which it was created. "And what could I do to help?"

I wanted to help the wizard, not really for my own benefit, but for the places I had lost and the people that had no hope left. Sauron's power had taken over half of Middle-Earth, and it would not be long until the rest of it would be consumed.

"I don't know yet, but I am travelling to Minas Tirith to find out the true nature of the ring. I will let you know, most likely when you least expect it." And with that, he stood up and headed towards an opening of trees. He looked back once more and then disappeared.

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