It was far past noon and Mentha had been walking all morning. She didn’t even pause for a lunch break but kept walking while eating. Now her legs began to feel heavy and she wiped her forehead and took another sip of water.
Mentha was determined to see the elf again. The fact that she didn’t even knew his name was painful, a reminder that maybe she wasn’t so close to him as she wanted to be. He was ever present in her mind and thoughts. Everything reminded her of him, the sky was the colour of his eyes, a fern would look like one she had been staring at while afraid to look into his eyes. It was stupid and too sugar-sweet, and she couldn’t help it. She was exactly as awful as the silly girls back home, she used to roll her eyes when they talked about crushes and now she was just as bad. Maybe even worse.
Thinking about him all the time, made her feel connected to him, and it felt weird to consider, that maybe he had forgotten all about her. Or maybe he entertained the other beautiful elves with the story of how he had to save a plump and foolish hobbit from something as mundane as humans. And the tall blond elves would all laugh. And one of them, exceptionally stunning, would lean in and- No! There was no point driving herself crazy like that.
The young girl looked at the depth between the stars and shivered in her mortality. The robot across the table looked at the small human and tried to load her emotions. “You are not alone,” it said. “Thank you,” she whispered. The robot turned its metallic head and looked at the shining stars. “Don’t worry. We’ll find her,” the robot said.
Mentha pushed herself through another bush and tried to keep up with the swift elf. She was used to go through the forest off road, but this. This was something else. Panting she stumbled forward wondering where they were headed. She had completely lost her sense of direction and as she looked up to locate the sun, her foot was caught by a nasty root and she fell hard to the ground. Again. She was like a noisy and clumsy boar next to that elf.
“Wait!” she called from the ground as she pulled her foot lose and got up.
With a few light steps he came back to her.
“You have to slow down,” she said and felt awfully embarrassed. “I can’t… I can’t follow that speed. Short legs you know.” She stretched her leg at him, and he stared at it like he had never seen a leg before.
A fanfic about an adventurous hobbit and her elf rescuer.
As far as hobbits goes, Mentha had always been peculiar. It seemed like she was always missing and nor fences, duties or excellent company could keep her at one place for more than a minute. She was drawn to new places, her heart sighing for adventures and her feet itching to go.
“Who would be surprised? It runs in the family,” the neighbours would say to one another over the hedges. “One day she’ll get herself in trouble, that silly girl.”
Mike Williams did not wish for much. Most people dreamed of being millionaires, big celebrity stars or famous artists but Mike never had,he simply could not see the point of it. He thought it must be absolutely awful to be a celebrity and not having a private life at all. Or at least, having to struggle to have one. No, Mike liked being able to enjoy his front garden without being attacked by paparazzi or to go to the garden centre without being tackled by crazy stalkers.
It wasn’t that Mike didn’t have dreams. He dreamed of owninga lawn tractor. And when he dreamed big, he dreamed of owning a big lawn tractor.
Felix would never forget the first time he put on the glitter and
accessories, he felt invincible. Since that first night, he had sneaked
out more times than he could count, always terrified that the others
would discover him. It wasn’t just a dress up, it was a new identity, a
bulletproof amour. When he entered that bar, he entered a new world. One night he was almost caught by one of the other horses in the stable but he managed to get away with his sparkles and horn.
It was 3 in the morning and in front of a bar two broad men were having an argument using mainly their fists. Suddenly, a small and very local cloud of smoke appeared, not that the two fighters noticed in their own fog of alcohol. The cloud lifted and revealed a cape-wearing figure striking a heroic pose, cloak waving in the wind. “Police! Hands in the air!” Inspector Joden shouted before the figure could attack the unaware men.
“There’s something seriously wrong with this city. Last week we had to arrest a group of cape-wearing idiots beating a poor drug addict to death because he’d stolen some old lady’s purse.” The bartender handed Inspector Joden another scotch. “When the first so called heroes began to show up in Nocturban, everyone was thrilled,” said the bartender. “Now we’re all afraid. When people begin to take the law into their own hands, nobody’s safe.”