Chapter Text
“Natalie, Natalie!,” Almáriel cried as she jogged up the trail. “Wait up!,” she grumbled loudly - it wasn’t the first time she’d been left in the dust by a hiking partner, but this time felt different. A sudden rainstorm had loosed a brief shower on the two, followed by a thick fog as the rain steamed off the trees in the summer sun. After the fog cleared, Almáriel found herself alone. Natalie was nowhere to be seen.
“This is not good,” Almáriel grumbled to herself as she continued up the mountain. After a series of switchbacks, Almáriel took a break to catch her breath, surveying the trail below for any signs that her friend had ended up behind her instead of ahead. Nothing. Almáriel turned and continued, hoping that Natalie was waiting for her up ahead . As she stood looking up at the next set of switchbacks, her gaze settled upon an object that looked out of place. It was a bow.
Who would just leave that up here?, she thought as she neared the place where it leaned against a tree. In the distance, a twig snapped. Almáriel turned to look in the direction the sound came from, but saw nothing but the windswept pines growing up the steep mountainside before her. “Twigs snap in the forest all the time, don’t they?”, she muttered as she approached the bow.
Almáriel approached the bow and examined it. It was a longbow, taller than she was, and everything about it was elegant and sleek. “Whoever owned this must have loved it,” she said to herself. “It’s got a design in gold inlay… looks almost like something one of Tolkien’s elves would have had,” she muttered. She picked it up - it was light, and its grip was well-used from the looks of it. Even the string had an elegant twist, terminating in complex braided loops on either end. Clearly, whoever shot this bow took great care of it.
*SNAP* went another twig, this time closer than the previous one had been. Almáriel looked up, hoping to see her friend, but only saw the same trees as before. “Natalie? Don’t mess with me… please… I’ve been worried sick about you…”, she said. But only silence answered her.
Almáriel admired the bow for a while, then slid her backpack off and leaned it against a nearby log. I suppose now is a good a time as any for a cup of coffee. I can see the trail from here and if Natalie turns back around I’ll be able to flag her down, she thought to herself, reaching for the small trail stove kit she had clipped to her pack. She set some water to boil, then dug in her pack to retrieve the coffee she had packed to share with her friend on the way up to the waterfall.
Just before she lit the stove, she heard the snap of yet another twig. Almáriel ignored it this time. If Natalie was playing a game, she wasn’t in the mood to join in.
Before long, coffee was ready and Almáriel poured it, placed the spent grounds into the container, and settled against the log. As she sipped, she let her eyes drink in the lush greens and deep browns of the forest surrounding her. The coffee and a break from the challenging switchbacks was just what she needed. Despite the warm early summer weather, the rainfall had given her a chill that the coffee would chase away. She sat for a long time in that place - sipping her coffee, observing the world around her, and breathing the sweet scent of warm pine needles coming from the forest floor.
Almáriel took the last sip of coffee from her mug, then packed it back into the stove kit. As she sat back down, she noticed a subtle change in her perception, almost like a door was opened to a mental space she didn’t realize was there, as if a presence was nearby, reassuring her that everything was okay. *I don’t think I’ve ever felt so at peace with nature as I do right now,* she thought to herself, breathing deeply.
SNAP - SNAP - SNAP , more twigs were snapping, and this time the sound was much louder. Hastily she stood up, hoping to see who or what was causing the sound, and immediately regretted it. “No, no, don’t pass out! Not here!,” she groaned as the world tilted. Her vision went grey, then black. She had stood up too quickly and her body couldn’t manage the rush of blood. Almáriel had fainted and lay in a disheveled pile near her backpack.
Beleg stood still, observing the small spectacle that had just unfolded before him. He stood silent for several seconds, his eyes on the Mannish person lying in a pile only a few paces away. He approached silently and set his pile of broken twigs where Almáriel would see them when she woke up. He had encountered his share of Mannish people, but he didn’t recall any of them having a tendency to faint upon standing. He retreated cautiously, his hand on his dagger, as Almáriel began to stir again. He had sensed no ill will from her, but these were strange times, and he wouldn’t allow anyone unvetted to proceed further.
Almáriel opened her eyes slowly. She blinked a few times, and as her eyes focused, she saw a neat pile of broken twigs a few feet in front of her. “Natalieeee”, she grumbled as she regained her senses and sat up. What happened? Where did all of these sticks and twigs come from? Did I faint again?
SNAP
Almáriel turned her head in the direction of the sound, and watched in silence as a tall dark-haired figure revealed himself. Almáriel stood once again - too quickly- and the figures eyes widened in alarm as she wobbled and reached for the tree. “Not again!” she mumbled, reaching out for a nearby tree to steady herself. The world went grey, but eventually regained color, and Almáriel straightened herself again. The figure was still there. He was dressed simply, in grey with subtle embroidery, but had a quiver full of arrows and a belt that had a dagger on it. The quiver’s strap and the figure’s belt had the same ornate golden pattern as the bow.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, did I interrupt a LARP? I didn’t see anyone else on the trail and I just assumed that someone had left the bow… have you seen anyone else up here? I can’t find my friend and I’m really worried becau-“ Almáriel rambled, but she stopped mid sentence as the figure moved toward her. His eyes were kind and curious, but his posture was cautious. She noticed that his hand was on his dagger.
“Oh, I’m not here to hurt anyone,” Almáriel said, backing up. She quickly calculated the likelihood of being able to run away from the person before her. Unlikely.
Beleg narrowed his eyes. Who was this? What was this strange language? He had heard the Mannish dialects before, and could communicate fairly well with Mannish people, but this felt different.
Almáriel backed up even more, eventually bumping up against a large tree as the figure cautiously continued to advance. “Please- I didn’t know there was a LARP up here… I’m so sorry,” she said.
Beleg stopped his approach, sensing that the woman before him was very afraid. He closed his eyes and focused. Almáriel felt the same shift in perception once again, and she felt peaceful and safe. Beleg opened his eyes again, and stooped down to pick up a twig.
SNAP
“Oh, that was you?” Almáriel said, her eyes wide. Beleg chuckled and smiled. “Beleg,” he said, pointing at himself.
“Okay- You’re an incredible LARPer. But please, please stop messing with me. You’re a very, VERY convincing elf. Mission accomplished. Now, can you please tell me if you’ve seen any other hikers up here?”, Almáriel said, her voice increasingly panicked and frantic.
Beleg’s expression turned curious, and he looked to the side for a split second, giving a quick nod to someone or something that was still concealing itself.
“God, where did you buy your ears? Those look amazing on you,” Almáriel said. “Can I see those?” Almáriel approached slowly, and Beleg stood still. Finally, she was close enough to see that the figure’s ears did not have the typical signs of costume prosthetics. She reached up to touch one, but Beleg had gently caught her wrist.
“Those… those are real?,” Almáriel said, pulling her hand away from Beleg’s grip. He did not let go.
Has she never met one of my people before?, he wondered, looking intently at the person standing before him. Almáriel’s clothing, the colors and design of her pack… and her language… all were completely unfamiliar to him, though he knew the linguists back home would have a field day trying to decipher her speech - that is if Thingol allowed her passage.
Almáriel pulled her arm away again, and this time Beleg let go.
“Where do you come from, stranger?” Beleg asked in his own language as three others in his company revealed themselves behind him.
“Uh… I don’t understand…” Almáriel said, backing away. “I really should be going now. I need to find my friend, but I hope you all have fun and enjoy your LARP. I’m sorry I don’t understand your language. Be safe out here and if you see another woman on the trail looking for someone, send her back to the trail head.” At that, Almáriel turned to leave, but two more of Beleg’s company revealed themselves, standing between her and the path.
“You guys, this isn’t funny,” Almáriel said as she tried to side step the two. They blocked her path again. She darted to the left, trying to force her way past them, but they grabbed her pack, preventing her from moving forward. At this, Almáriel lost her composure. “Let me leave!”, she shouted. “I’m not part of your LARP, and my friend is probably wondering where I am. I need to go!”, she cried as she thrashed against the grip of the two elves.
Beleg was alarmed at the sight of the scuffle unfolding before him. Almáriel was many times outmatched, but conflict was the absolute last thing he wanted out of his encounter. He had a duty to fulfill, and that duty involved defending Doriath against spies and enemies who would seek to find its location. A lost Adan was one thing- a lost Adan who looked and spoke in ways he had never seen before was another matter entirely. Still, he didn’t want to see what he believed to be a simple misunderstanding between him and a lost traveler to turn violent, so he gave a reluctant order to his company. “Bind her and sit her down somewhere… but be gentle. There’s no reason to be harsh - she hasn’t hurt anyone,” he said with a sigh.
Beleg’s comrades acknowledged his command and forced Almáriel to the ground as gently as they could, removing her backpack, phone, and utility knife in the process. Two of them held her still while a third bound her, despite her vigorous protests. “You guys! This isn’t okay! Stop it!” Almáriel cried, fighting them the best she could. But she was outmatched.
The three that had bound the panic-sticken Almáriel moved her to a nearby log, and made her sit. Her face was scratched up from being forced to the ground, and she was pale with fear. Beleg and his second-in-command approached slowly, stopping a couple of paces from where Almáriel was being held.
“I am Beleg, and you appear to be lost,” he said in his own language. “Where do you come from?”, he asked, being careful to speak slowly and plainly in case there was a chance she could understand something. But Almáriel was in no mood to talk - she was afraid. The encounter had gone from a chance meeting with a man in an incredibly convincing elf costume to being surrounded by at least five of them as her hands were tied behind her back.
“I think we should press onward toward our encampment. The day is waning, and other strange folk are about,” said one of Beleg’s comrades, and he agreed.
“Padro”, Beleg said, motioning to Almáriel and the elves flanking her.
“Padra?” Almáriel said out loud. She had learned a few Sindarin words during her studies of Quenya and was quite surprised that these LARPers had gone to the point of learning any Sindarin, let alone use the correct form of the verb "walk".
You want me to walk? Padra? Walk?,” Almáriel asked.
Beleg smiled slightly and gave a slight nod. “Padro,” he said, turning and walking.
The other elves nudged Almáriel forward and she reluctantly walked with them. At least these LARPers did their homework.
The group walked for a long time through trails in the forest that Almáriel hadn’t seen before. She was very familiar with the area but this time, every thing seemed different, from the trees to the streams to the animals. And there were no sounds from passing aircraft. There was a major airport some miles away and the sound of airplanes coming in to land, or taking off, was common to hear in those woods at that time. What the hell is going on? No matter what happens, I can’t panic, she thought to herself. I need to keep my wits about me if I'm going to find my way back home.