A Twice Born

Chapter 3

I find myself waking up again, but this time I open my eyes to a light brown ceiling. A beam of light strikes my eyes as I turn my head, and I look around to see where it came from. A sliver of light shone through a slit in the sheer white curtains. I lie there for a few moments just staring, the warm wind carrying sounds of laughter in through the window and my mind still fuzzy from sleep; I feel like there's something wrong here. My eyes widen as I shoot up from where I was laying -a bed clearly- and immediately fall to the floor. I feel like slapping myself and curse my stupidity as I gaze around at my surroundings. At some point during the night I've been brought into a bedroom. It's not very big, with only a little room around the bed, but a dark brown dresser has been placed next to the only door in the room and above it is a small mirror. On the dresser there is white bowl and next to it a pitcher of the same color. A dressing gown is hanging from a hook on the door. The calm atmosphere slowly makes me relax and I sit up from where I was laying on the floor.

Shortly after I finish my inspection the door opens and in comes a curly haired male carrying a wooden tray and bringing the scent of freshly baked bread with him. At first he doesn't notice me, too busy looking at the tray and making sure that nothing falls of while he closes the door behind him. Soon however he lifts his gaze and sees the empty bed and me on the floor next to it. 

"Oh heavens! Are you alright child?" he exclaims while lowering the tray onto the dresser and taking a small step towards me. This is when I notice that he isn't wearing shoes and just like his head the tops of his feet are covered in curly brown hair.

There is no reply to his question as I'm too busy staring at him. I can faintly hear a voice in the back of my head telling me that I'm being rude, I ignore the thought of it sounding like Hermione. It feels like an hour has passed when I finally blurt out the first thing on my mind. "What are you?"

His worried frown slowly turns into gentle smile as a warm quiet chuckle fills the rooms. "Well my boy, I'm a hobbit. I found you early in the morning in front of my home and carried you here as you wouldn't wake. It is now noon, you must have been exhausted. My name is Bilbo Baggins and what is yours little one?"

Once again it took me a moment to answer, the endearment that my past mentor had used ringing in my ears. He'd always been like a grandfather to me, but he'd kept so many things to himself. I'm not sure what I should think of him anymore. I had been so caught up in my thoughts that I had to process his words for a bit. For years my name had gathered all kinds of reactions, ranging from awe to hatred. I remember wanting to be 'just Harry', but over the years my name has brought me so much grief that I never want to be attached to that name again. Finally having made up my mind , I lift my head and answer him. "I don't know, I can't remember."

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I look around as Mr. Baggins leads me through the hallways, naming rooms as we pass them, I find it curious that the doors are all round. Before we left the room, I changed into my other outfit so that Mr. Baggins could wash the one I had been wearing. I pat down my tunic and try to hide my sweaty palms as he leads me to another room with a large fireplace and two big armchairs, he gently lifts me up and places me on one them and then goes to sit down on the other one. I sit with my back straight and my hands folded on my lap, trying to keep my tangled hair away from my face. Discretely studying Mr. Baggins I take notice of his relaxed posture along with his warm eyes and a calming smile. He sits there quietly for a moment before opening his mouth.

"I think first we should find a name for you and then figure out what to do next. Now I've never actually met an elf before you, but I do have some books on them and I think we could choose a name for you from one of those."

Mr. Baggins walks over to one of the book shelves in the room and after a moment pulls out a book. Slowly flipping through the yellowed pages he returns to his chair.

"How about... Aldon?"

"Cirdan?"

"Lithonion?"

"Calen?"

None of these feel right and I shake my head, until finally one name catches my attention.

"Well then what do you think of Herion?"

I think that's it, hearing that name makes me feel warm and safe, like coming home after being away for a long time. Flashes of flying cars and bushy hair pass through my head.

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I sit on the ground and lean on the bench where Bilbo is sitting, one of his hands is carding through my hair and the other one is holding his pipe. Tilting my head back I close my eyes and listen to the sounds around me.

It has been three weeks since I first woke up in the guest bedroom-that has now become mine- and met Bilbo. He let me stay here with him as I have no family and we've grown close in such a short time. The other hobbits also quickly got used to having an elfling in their midst and sometimes I spend the day with the children. I've seen Bilbo frowning when instead of joining them I sit under a tree reading my book.

I open my eyes again and watch Bilbo let out another puff of smoke, the wind carries it away and I let my eyes drift to the amazing view that is Hobbiton. Everything is so calm here and I desperately hope that it stays that way. I've spent  some of my time studying Middle-Earth and I hope that the orcs, goblins and other disgusting creatures never reach this place. This whole village is so full of life, compared to the soulless streets where I grew up and I just love it.

The sound of feet traveling up the road reaches my ears and altough I notice the difference in their step I ignore the sound until it stops and a shadow can be seen on the ground in front of us. Slowly lifting my gaze, I lay my eyes upon a man in grey robes and a brown wooden staff taller than the person carrying it. Looking at his face I choke on air; the man standing on the other side of the gate resembles my former headmaster, with a long grey beard reaching down to his middle chest, bushy eyebrows of the same color and piercing blue eyes staring straight at us.

I hear Bilbo coughing next to me.

"Good morning."

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Edit: So, a couple of days ago I realised that the name Calen is also used in another elfling story. I actually had decided on Herion a long time ago when I first got the idea for this book but then changed my mind when writing this chapter. So now that I've realised the similarities between this book and the other I've decided to change the name back to Herion. To those who may have noticed these similarities, it was not my intention to copy the other book in any way.

I've also started the next chapter and will try to get it out as soon as possible.