Of The Sun (The Hobbit/The Lord of the Rings/LOTR)

Pt. 1 - Chapter 2 - Two Brothers

"So, you have not even informed your burglar of this quest you plan on throwing him into." Anariel stated with a slight hint of disapproval.

"There's no need of frightening the fellow." Gandalf defended himself as they pulled up their horses on a hill overlooking the Shire. Hills rolled along the valley and dug into the side of each one were tiny little round doors. Hobbit holes they were known as. 

It was not the most adventurous place, but Anariel had always felt at peace in the Shire. The land she felt could only be described as lush and the atmosphere soothing. She never stayed long though, merely only used it as a sort of short breather and pause in her travels before continuing on. She couldn't say she knew anyone there save the inn keep at the Prancing Pony on the outskirts and that was of course more of an acquaintance. It was a place she often felt herself drawn to and through, but never compelled to stay. Like a book to a non reader. You like the idea of it and the concept and know you would love it if only you could give it the time... but the pages just turn so slowly and just outside that window is a whole world already waiting... so you put it down and vow to give it another go some other time.

"He will find everything out tonight when the company comes to gather. I will warn him of a quest now, however."

"I take it you will be leaving out the part about the 13 dwarves that will come knocking?"

"Like I said, there's..."

"No need to frighten the fellow." Anariel concluded with a cheeky smile. "Very well. This Bilbo Baggins, however, does not know me so I shall leave this warning, as you called it, up to you. I shall make my way to Bree for the day and return for the gathering. Something I am not looking forward to, I will admit."

"I think you'll find most of them capable of setting aside your differences and welcoming you to their company."

"It's the few who will find it near impossible that I'm worried about, my dear Mithrandir. Nonetheless I never decline an adventure and I couldn't say no to this one even if I wanted to. I will see you tonight. I shall be a little late, however, that should give you enough time to warn them of my race before I come knocking. I hate nothing more than awkward silence. Good day, Gandalf, and best of luck." She nodded as a farewell and rode her white stallion named Rilien, which literally translated to 'Bright,' to the town of Bree where she would sit at the Prancing Pony until night fall.

She kept her hair over her pointed elven ears as she sat in the back of the inn watching the interactions that took place before her. Anariel had made a habit of not braiding her hair back over her ears outside of elven company. It proved to be a safer way to travel especially considering who her parents were. Her shorter height allowed her to be disguised easily among mankind. She used the name Ana (Ahn-na), knowing that many people knew who 'Anariel' was or could recognise it in the least as elven. She wasn't quite as well known as her mother, but the risk wasn't worth it. She had learned this lesson some time ago and the unfortunate incident had resulted in torture... it was not a mistake she intended to repeat. It was also, unfortunately, a mistake her sister had made which had been the reason for her fleeing to the Undying Lands of Valinor; the elven safe haven and the place that they all would within time return to.

This trick, however, did not always work. It was not a guarantee. Even with concealed ears and a short stature... an elf could be an easy thing to spot if you knew their kind well enough or had a particular sense for things of a magical quality. Elves, for example, would always recognise another elf without fail.

It had taken her all of three hours to reach Bree and she knew she could only stay there for another three hours at the most before needing to travel back to the Shire. That time was now coming close. A long trip there and back for a short visit perhaps, but travel was nothing for her. She was used to it, she enjoyed it, she hated siting idle for too long although the seat in the inn and the drink and food (that she had barely touched) in front of her had been a pleasant respite. Anariel sat quietly as she finished the pint of ale that would do nothing to affect her, elves had a very high tolerance for alcohol, when two young dwarves entered the tavern and made their way to the counter.