Title: The Matchless Little Elfling
Author: Ignoble Bard (ignoblebard@hotmail.com)
Rating: G
Warning: I'm told tissues may be required and that fishyz should NOT
read this, lol.
Disclaimer: Sure Hans Christen Andersen is in the public domain, but
LOTR is not and there're those pesky names again. Oh well, I
apologize to both Andersen and Tolkien for this one.
A/N: Vesta encouraged me to write this, betaed it, and cried when she
read it. Now that's a true friend. Thanks for you help and support
sweetie. Oh, and Napolde posted the plot bunny that made me write
it. *waves to Napolde*


In a cold dark street, in a city of Men, the little Elfling wandered
barefoot through the ankle-deep snow. He pulled his ragged cloak
tightly about him as a sharp wind blew through his threadbare
clothing. He had been on his own since the death of his father two
years ago and now he wandered from town to town, selling the small
luminous stones his father had taught him to craft.

He longed to find a settlement of Elves for he was driven away by
the Men who did not want the tattered Elfling sleeping in their
doorways and begging for food outside their establishments. None
dared take him in for they knew nothing of Elves and feared what
they did not understand. Even the stones he sought to sell were
looked upon as objects of suspicion and he had not sold anything in
many months.

Now, tired, hungry, and nearly at the end of his strength, he
trudged through streets where the smells of food wafted from the
chimneys of houses shut tight against the winter, the lights of
candles creating a warm, cozy glow to the eyes of the weary Elfling.

Unable to go any further, Erestor found a corner formed by two
houses, of which one advanced more than the other and offered a bit
of protection from the wind, and he fell down and huddled against
the cold brick, drawing his knees up to his thin chest and hugging
them tight.

He wondered what it might be like to have strong walls and warm arms
to keep away the cold that numbed his frostbit fingers and toes. Oh
for even a bit of warmth and crust of bread would he give all the
stones in his patched pouch. He pulled one of the stones out and
looked at it sadly. It glowed a bright, cheerful blue but produced
no heat and he sighed and laid it down next to the wall, gazing
listlessly into its crystal depths.

It seemed he saw within it a blazing fire and imagined himself to be
sitting before a large open fireplace, ornamented with the figures
of trees carved into the wood on either side of the firebox. He
stretched his feet out and wiggled his toes to catch the warmth and
as he did, a sudden keen wind blasted them and he hastily drew them
up again, tears forming in his eyes at the cruel illusion.

Looking from the stone to the wall by which it lay, he saw the light
glowed softly upon it and suddenly it was as if a veil had been
lifted and Erestor could see into the room inside. A table with a
linen cloth was prepared for a splendid meal, with roast goose
stuffed with apples and plums, steamed vegetables, and multicolored
pastries glazed with sugar. As Erestor looked on hungrily, the goose
rose from the platter and danced before his longing eyes, spinning
and twirling until it was close enough to touch. So real did it seem
that Erestor reached out to grasp it, only to find that his chilled
fingers touched only cold, damp brick.

Through his frustrated tears, Erestor looked up to where the stars
twinkled in the wintry blackness above and he saw one fall and form
a long tail of fire.

'An Elf has died,' he thought, for his father had told him that when
an Eldar met with death, Mandos shed a tear that could be seen as a
star falling in the heavens. He thought of his father and how kind
he had been, how loving. His long, golden hair shone like sunlight
and his eyes were blue as a summer sky. Erestor wanted so badly to
hold on until he could one day sail for Valinor and be reunited with
him, but that time was so far away and he needed his Ada now.
Erestor favored his mother in looks with his dark hair and liquid
brown eyes, but she had died shortly after his birth and he had
never known her love.

Snow began to fall and Erestor shivered pathetically and wondered
how much longer he could hold on before he would cause Mandos to cry
for him also.

The stone beside him began to dim, its power running out as the
stones did after a time. His father had known how to make them last
longer but it was a secret Erestor had not mastered.

Now, in the last flickering light of the crystal, he saw a golden
haired Elf lean down and peer at him with eyes of brilliant blue. He
smiled weakly at the tall Elf and reached for him crying, "Ada! Take
me with you! Do not vanish before my eyes like the warmth and food
that do not sustain me for they are only illusions cast by the light
of the stone and my longing. I have tried so hard to be strong for
you Ada, but my strength, like the light of the stone, grows dim and
I am tired, so tired..."

He fell into a swoon as the golden haired Elf scooped him up and
hugged him tightly to his chest, wrapping his cloak around the gaunt
little Elfling to warm him.

"Rest now, little one," Glorfindel said softly as he carried Erestor
to the inn where he had taken a room a few hours ago. He thought how
lucky it was that he had decided to look for the chandler's shop to
buy some candles for his journey back to Imladris. The glow from the
stone had caught his eye and he had found the poor, orphaned Elfling
huddled beside it, nearly dead from cold and hunger.

He kissed Erestor's forehead and the Elfling smiled peacefully,
cradled at last in the strong, loving arms he had dreamed of for so
long.


End