Awakened by unsettled dreams, I see the elf walk by, singing. His voice reminds me of cavern streams splashing over rocks, catching lanterns' gleam in their spray. Elves are strange to me, but not this one. Eyes, deep as Khazad-dûm, are lit by the stars of Durin's crown in Kheled-zâram. Tall, he is, and strong like a stone spire jutting from a cave's floor.
He would not like that I compared him to stone, preferring always trees as elves do. That alone remains strange in him. For our friendship, I will call him a tree. A tree carved from stone.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.