Chapter Text
Sweat trickled down her back as she waited for her prey to come into view. Her bow was drawn with an arrow nocked, ready to fly at the right time. She had been tracking the doe for a few days now. There wasn’t much movement in the woods due to the heat. Most of the animals had remained hidden, only venturing out in the night. She was lucky to have crossed the path of this doe, who must have ventured out in search of water.
Her sensitive elf-ears picked up the sound of rustling leaves nearby, signaling her target would be in her sights soon. She remained motionless as the doe stepped carefully passed the trees, stopping exactly where she had expected it to. She took a deep steadying breath, ready to loose the arrow when she heard a twig snap behind her.
She spun at the sound, redirecting her aim at the tall man in gray robes standing before her. She let an impatient sigh and slowly released the tension on the bow. “Mithrandir.” She gave him a brief nod and turned back to the empty space where the doe had been.
“Caithwistë, my dear. What a pleasant surprise!” The ancient wizard said cheerfully.
She laughed humorlessly. “A surprise, is it? The wandering wizard just happened to be wandering in the same woods as I?” She gave up on the hope of the doe reappearing, and put the unused arrow back in the quiver.
“Oh, stranger things have happened I think.” He said with a wink.
She nodded, choosing to remain silent as she unstrung her bow. If the wizard wanted to talk, then he would. Questions usually lead only frustrating riddles that she didn’t want to deal with right now.
“I apologize for chasing your meal away. Allow me to make it up to you. I would be delighted if you would join me this evening for a nice warm meal.” He said with a bow.
“I must decline, respectfully of course.” She said, picking up her belongings. “I have been in these woods for days now, and I would like nothing more than to find a nice cool river to bathe in and a place to rest.”
“At least accompany me to get out of the rain.”
“What rain would that be? There hasn’t been rain in these parts for over a month now.”
Mithrandir smiled and as if on cue, a cool breeze flowed through the thick trees followed by a curtain of rain. Caithwistë stood there, drenched, glaring at the wizard. “You mentioned a nice warm meal then?”
His smile grew, even with the rain cascading off his widely-brimmed hat like a waterfall. “Why yes, dear. I’m meeting a friend in Bree and would love for you to join us.”
“Let’s be on our way then.” She said, pulling the hood of her soaked cloak over her head.
They walked in a comfortable silence to Bree. She spent most of the trek wondering what the wizard was up to. He was a kind soul, but she knew enough of the wandering wizard to know that he rarely showed up without a hidden agenda. The first time she had met him, he had arrived to escort her to Imladris. The elves of the Last Homely House were the only ones who tolerated her very existence, and they graciously sheltered her until she was of age.
The Woodland Realm elves would have killed her on sight if they had the chance. They called her a half-breed, an abomination, a creature born from a forbidden union, among other things. Her mother was an elf maiden, born in the Woodland Realm and had been loved by all who met her. Her father, however, was a warrior dwarf of Erebor. Against all odds, they fell in love. With that love, they created a child.
Caithwistë was blessed with the long life, fair skin and pointy ears of an elf, and also possessed the short stature and temper of the mightiest dwarf. The three had been forced into hiding, and were always on the move until the death of her father. That’s when everything changed. Devastated by the loss of her veru, her mother was unable to move forward and decided it was time to sail to Valinor. That was the same day that Mithrandir had arrived.
Three-hundred years had passed since then, and now she stood, soaking wet next to a wizard, staring at the sign of The Prancing Pony.
“Come dear, let’s get you inside and warmed up.” Mithrandir said, holding the door open for her.
She smiled at the gesture and his small joke. He knew that she didn’t feel the cold like most of the habitants of Middle Earth do.
She entered the inn, still unaware of Mithrandir’s intentions and wondering what he could possibly want from a half-breed.