The Identity Quest-Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Erebor! 

Six days after starting from Mirkwood, Melda and her friends arrived at Dale. Bard the Bowman had rebuilt the town and became the king, since he was descended from the kings of Dale in olden days. His son, Bain, ruled there now; but he was beginning to feel the pains of old age. It was expected that he would soon turn the crown over to his son, Brand.

Dale was impressive. It was an important trading center between the Wood-elves and the Dwarves, and now was both happy and prosperous. Marvelous goods of all sorts were made there* and shipped down the river to Laketown or went up to Erebor.

*Those who have read The Lord of the Rings might remember that the “marvelous crackers” that Gandalf brought to Bilbo's Birthday Party came from Dale.

Melda was awed. Laketown had seemed large, but Dale was twice and half again larger than Laketown! Great towers rose up on each corner of the city. The walls were high and in good repair. The Battle of the Five Armies had not yet been forgotten! The Orcs had been taken care of for the most part in the intervening years, but the people were still wary. However, farms now lay in the lands nearby. It was autumn, and the harvest was in full swing.

At Dale the three friends obtained more provisions, then went on to Erebor. They were accompanied by a dwarf who knew Linwen, since their Wood-elvish escort would not go beyond Dale. It did not take them more than a day's journey to arrive thence; even though they were on foot, it was not a hard, nor a long, road. So it was that on the seventh day from their starting in Mirkwood they arrived at Erebor.

Erebor was no less majestic than Dale; indeed, it was more so! The Gate was wide, with pillars on either side. It was just about to open; the sun had risen over the horizon not more than five minutes before. On the Gate was inlaid in gold the design of an anvil and hammer surmounted by a crown with seven stars. The mountain rose up almost as high as the eye could see. It was scored with paths, doors, guardhouses, and the like. Guards stood at the Gate with axes and pikes and bright mail. Their helms glinted in the morning sun.

Melda and Galenloth were awed. Linwen was also, though somewhat less; she had seen the mountain more than once before, if never at sunrise.

“I never knew that such majesty and grandeur existed,” said Melda softly.

“And power,” added Galenloth. “The mountain radiates overwhelming might.”

“You will never see the like,” said Linwen, “for although 'tis said that Gondor is splendid, nothing can compare with The Lonely Mountain.”

They walked up to the Front Gate as the doors swung open.

Inside, Erebor was just as imposing. Dwarves' tread could be heard on the stone floors, their heavy boots clunking loudly. Rich hangings decorated the walls in the corridor leading to the throne room. Great pillars rose up to the high ceiling and merged flawlessly. Melda and Galenloth gazed at the lofty heights and soaring ceilings; they had never seen the like before. Linwen led them on until they reached the doors leading to the throne room. These were inlaid like the gate, with the crown of Durin surrounded by seven stars over a hammer and anvil in gold.

“King Dain will open his audience chamber soon. He receives visitors for two hours about an hour from this time usually, “ whispered Linwen to the other two. They waited, watching the dwarves begin to go about their morning business. Two dwarf-children were playing in a hall nearby; you could hear their laughter. They walked out into the open space where Melda, Galenloth and Linwen were standing.

“You go, Nara,” whispered one. She nudged her companion.

“No, you go, Naugwen!” the other, presumably Nara, whispered back. This went on for several minutes. Finally Naugwen came up to where the three friends were standing. “Greetings,” she said in Dwarvish.

“Greetings,” the three friends replied.

Melda and Galenloth were eager to see what Dwarves looked like, so they looked at Naugwen curiously. She was not very tall, about 4 foot 11, with blond hair and bluish-green eyes. She was wearing a dark blue dress and brown leggings; the dress was almost a tunic in length. She wore boots, something that seemed strange to Galenloth; Wood-elves wore only light shoes.

Naugwen, in her turn, had never seen a Wood-elf, or even a half-elf before. She looked over the three standing together near the door. They had on long tunics, almost dresses, just past the knee, that were green and trimmed with brown. Their leggings were brown, and they wore light shoes that were almost moccasins. The tallest had long brown hair well past her shoulders and brown eyes. She wore a belt of leather with a metal clasp; the clasp had a strange symbol on it. The other two were about the same height; one had brown hair, and the other had golden-red. The one with brown hair had green eyes. Her belt was purple. The other girl, the one with the golden-red hair, had green eyes also. Her belt was a light turquoise-blue.

“I am Naugwen,” said the dwarf who had greeted them. “This is my friend, Nara.”

“I am Melda,”

“I am Galenloth,”

“and I am Linwen,” finished Linwen.

“Have you ever been to Erebor before?” asked Naugwen after a pause.

“No,” answered Melda and Galenloth.

“Yes, I lived here for many years,” said Linwen. “Have you ever lived elsewhere?”

“No,” answered Naugwen and Nara.

“Are the three of you sisters?” asked Nara.

“No,” Melda answered, “though Linwen and I are first cousins once removed.”

Linwen nodded. “Are you and Naugwen sisters?” she asked.

“No, we are not,” Naugwen replied, “though we may act as such from time to time.”

At that moment the gate opened. The hall inside was decorated with hangings on the walls, carpet on the floor, and gems inlaid within the stone. The throne was near the far end of the room. Linwen lead the other two to the edge of the red and purple carpet surrounding the throne, then halted. “O king, we have a request to make,” she said.

“What is your request?” the king asked. His face was grim and stern, but not unkind.

“I bring two of my friends from Mirkwood, O king, where I went not yet four months ago. They have near kin here, since they are descended from Dwarves and Elves both, ” Linwen replied. The king mused for a moment. “Come up next to Linwen,” he commanded Melda and Galenloth. He spoke in the Common Speech, thinking not that they understood Dwarvish. “Who are your parents?”

They looked at each other, then Melda spoke. “O king, I am the daughter of Ranfea and Tolowen.”

“And I, O king, am the daughter of Tharir and Calmire,” finished Galenloth.

King Dain mused again. “I have heard of Tharir and Calmire,” he said, “and also of Tolowen. But Tolowen merely visits once a year. And Ranfea is a Man. Calmire visits at times, though it has been several years since last she came here. What are your names?”

“I am called Melda, O king,” said Melda.

“And I, O king, am called Galenloth,” said Galenloth.

“Galenloth, you are half Dwarf, and therefore welcome to our halls. Melda, I must consider your case. In the meantime, you may stay with Linwen and Galenloth. Do not leave them until I have given my verdict,” the king told them.

The three bowed, and made their way to the doors. As they were leaving, one of the guards asked her something teasingly in Dwarvish. Melda answered him fittingly, and was about to leave when King Dain said “Halt!” They did, and turned to face him. “When did you learn to speak Dwarvish?” he asked Melda. She looked at Linwen and Galenloth.

“What should I do?” she mouthed.
“Answer me!” the king commanded.

“I taught her, O king,” answered Linwen after a pause. “Galenloth also.”

“My mother had begun teaching me a few words, but I knew very little until Linwen taught me. We made certain that none overheard,” Melda added hastily.

The king mused. “If your mother saw fit to teach you some words of our tongue...” he broke off and was silent for a time. “You may stay and learn here,” he said at last. “However, beware lest you betray our secrets. They are not for all ears. And Dwarves have long memories.” With that, he dismissed them.

When they left, they saw that Nara and Naugwen were still lingering outside. “Do you have a chambers yet?” Naugwen asked.

“No,” answered Galenloth, “although Linwen does, I think.”

Linwen nodded. “We have spoken to the king, and he will give orders for chambers to be prepared for them.”

The Dwarves gathered for a hearty supper at eventide. The tables were well laden; Dwarves consume large amounts of food, when they are hungry (which is almost always). Laughter echoed in the halls as the mead was passed around. Soon Melda felt that the day had really failed and night had come. She glanced nervously at the boisterous dwarves. Some had already had their fill of mead, and Melda thought that more would go down that path as the night wore on. “Linwen!” she whispered. “Had we not best leave before the night wears on farther?”

Linwen glanced around the room. “A wise plan. I had nearly forgotten, in my joy at returning, how wild Dwarves can be when lost in mead.”

The three friends went up to Linwen's chambers. A dwarf was waiting for them. “Rooms have been prepared for Galenloth and Melda. I will show you to them,” he said. The three followed him first to Galenloth's rooms, then to Melda's. Both were close to Linwen's; Galenloth's were four doors farther on, and Melda's were six down in the other direction. “These will be your chambers for the duration of your stay,” their guide told them before he left.

Melda looked around her room. It was bare of any decoration, save a tapestry depicting Durin, one of the seven Dwarf Fathers, as he walked the earth in the dawn of days. There was a fireplace at the far end of the room. A bed stood in one corner, a dresser in another, and a table and chair in the middle. There was a torch-bracket on the wall, and candles stood on the dresser and table.

The table had writing utensils on it, along with parchment; Melda wondered why. She went over and looked at it. The topmost sheet of parchment was a map of Erebor, not including the mines. As she examined it, she began to suspect that she would need it the first few days in that new and confusing place. She crossed over to the bed. Freshly washed sheets covered it, and the pillow was soft. Looking in the dresser, she found two complete outfits. “These Dwarves are certainly not miserly hosts!” she thought. Since the night was wearing on, Melda went to bed. Wondering how they told time in this windowless place, she soon fell asleep. 

Bell 

The Identity Quest--Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A month with the Wood-elves

Melda stayed with the Wood-elves for about a month, and became rather good friends with Galadhmir, Galenloth, and Linwen. She spent most of her time wandering the forest, with or without them (although Legolas usually sent another Wood-elf with her when she went without them), and learning how to hunt, as well as learning more Sindarin.* It was spring, and the woods were rather pleasant. The leaves were green, the birds sang (near to where the Wood-elves lived; they had a good influence on the trees nearby to the palace),

*Sindarin was a form of Elvish. Quenyan was the older form of Elvish, rather like Latin is today; it was only used for ceremony and for high matters of lore and song. Sindarin was the primary language of all Elves by the time of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings, including the great Elf Lords. The Elf Lords did, however, speak Quenyan among themselves. The Dúnedain spoke Sindarin among themselves, as well as Common Speech. See Appendix F of The Lord of the Rings (look in the back of The Return of the King).

Melda had never really seen a forest before, and she loved exploring it with her friends. One day, Galadhmir came up and asked, “Melda, have you ever climbed a tree?”

“No,” Melda answered, surprised.

“You should! It is great fun, and very refreshing! Do you want to try?”

“Alright,” Melda agreed cautiously.

Galenloth came up and asked what they were doing. “Instructing Melda in the art of tree-climbing,” said Galadhmir.

Galenloth was intrigued. “May I join you? I have some skill in trees.”

“Certainly!” said Galadhmir.

They went to a place that Galadhmir said was where her favourite climbing tree stood. “Are some trees better than others?”

“Yes,” answered Galadhmir. “Some trees have good places to sit and look out at the world, while others have branches in odd places that make them uncomfortable to sit or climb in.”

After several minutes of walking, they reached their destination. Galadhmir immediately went to one tall beech tree that stood a few paces distant from the others. “This one is my favourite,” she said. “But this one,” going to another tree, “is more suited to begin on. It is not as difficult, and the branches are lower.”

She swarmed up it like a squirrel. Melda followed much more slowly. It was a shorter oak tree, with branches in convenient places. Galadhmir showed her how to hold on to a branch in order to walk up the side of the tree and throw a leg over the branch you were holding on to, then sit up and proceed to the next branch. The tree split into four different large branches farther up, with one that was almost parallel to the ground; and father still, the other branches also flattened out somewhat, almost looking like slanted. She got up to the first branch, then went to the center; all the main branches came out from there. It was like sitting on top of a giant spider.

Galenloth joined her. Galadhmir was far ahead, among the upper branches. “Come up here, Melda!” she called joyously. “You can see the trees, and feel the wind!” Melda was rather nervous in a tree; but she climbed up anyway. She was surefooted, as befitted a Wood-elf, but not so much as Galadhmir. Galenloth followed Melda, and at last all three were seated up on the higher branches.

The butterflies were dancing above the trees, the sun was shining, and the wind was pleasant. Melda breathed deeply. All her life had been lived in open places, and Mirkwood seemed rather gloomy compared to the openness of the wilderness; though it was filled with trees, and where the Wood-elves had their feast halls (and near the palace) it was pleasant, the wilderness was less frightening. The very numbers of the trees seemed daunting to Melda. But it was nice to see the sun again. She wondered where her father was, and what he was doing.

Galadhmir called her back to the present. “What was it like, being with the Dúnedain?” she asked. “What did you do all day?”

Melda thought for a moment. “I would help my father with the cooking when my mother was gone,” she said. “I would explore the land about our camp, and my father would teach me to find and read the trails of beasts and birds. One day we found Orc tracks nearby, but they were old. My mother would teach me to cook, when she was not with the Wood-elves or the Dwarves, as well as how to sew, clean, and read.”

“Was it fun?” asked Galenloth.

Melda considered. “I would say so. At times I was bored, but I have learned much.”

Every day for about a week, Melda went with Galadhmir (and usually Galenloth also) to climb the trees. By the end of the week, Melda could climb with ease the first tree Galadhmir had taught her to climb on, and was only slightly deterred by the others.

“Is this where you have always lived, or did you live somewhere else and then come here?” Melda asked Galenloth and Linwen as they were walking in the woods. The month was waning, and was now near the end of its second week. Melda had just finished her last climbing lesson, and Galadhmir had gone back to the palace. Galenloth and Melda had met Linwen while they were wandering along the path back.

“I have always lived here,” said Galenloth, “but soon I will visit Erebor.”

“I arrived here a few months ago,” said Linwen, “and before that I lived with the Dwarves in Erebor.”

“What is Erebor like?” Melda asked curiously.

“It is large. The Dwarves almost seem to want to make everyone who visits them feel small! There is much splendor there, and the walls in the guest rooms are covered with rich hangings. The floors are solid stone and covered in some places with carpet. Gold and gems are everywhere! And at the heart of the mountain lies Thorin Oakenshield, with Orcrist and the Arkenstone on his breast,” Linwen replied, eyes shining.

To Melda it sounded like more jewels and splendor than all the rich trappings and gems than were to be found in the whole Dúnedain camp! They are not given to luxuries. “It sounds like something out of the old tales,” she said, a little wistfully.

Galenloth laughed. “Well, perhaps we should travel there!” She grew more serious. “I do mean it. We are part Dwarven after all, aren't we? It would not be wise to only see part of the world.”

“Yes,” Melda agreed, “it would not. And I, for one, would like to see the halls of my mother's fathers.” Her eyes shone with anticipation. “Also, my father told me I must not stay with the Wood-elves for long at first; they are not the only peoples in this world. They are not to be disregarded, but there are others to meet and see as well. Still,” and here she seemed a little sorrowful, “I will miss the Wood-elves. They have been very kind to me.”

“But we will not be gone forever,” said Galenloth. “It will be but a visit.”

“True,” Melda agreed. “Let us stay a week more, if you have no great urgency; for I would stay here at least a month before departing, even to visit Erebor.”

Galenloth agreed. Linwen asked, “May I accompany you?”

“I say yes, for my part,” said Melda.

“As do I!” said Galenloth.

“Do we require permission from the Elvenking to depart?” Melda asked. It had just occurred to her that it might not be the wisest plan to depart without notifying anyone of it.

Galenloth thought for a moment. “It would be a wise plan to at least ask him for permission to visit our relatives.” Linwen agreed, so they went to the audience chamber.

The Elvenking had a magnificent audience chamber. Melda was not quite as overwhelmed by the splendor and majesty as she had been when she first saw the room (though it still was overwhelming in part), so she was able to note patterns formed by the gems and gold. The Elvenking's throne had two giant antlers behind it, rather like wings. It was still spring, so he wore a crown of woodland flowers. In autumn he wore a crown of red leaves and berries. In his hand he held a carven staff of oak. “What is your request?” he asked. His voice was stern, yet kind.

“O king, we wish to visit our relatives in Erebor,” said Melda. Linwen and Galenloth nodded in agreement.

The Elvenking looked slightly surprised, but not offended. Melda took this as a good sign. He thought for a moment, then answered. “You may go with the next consignment of barrels shipping back to Esgaroth. It will in two weeks.”

“Thank you, O king,” said Melda, Galenloth, and Linwen together. They bowed and left.

Melda and Galenloth told Galadhmir they were leaving. “So you are visiting the Lonely Mountain?” ask Galadhmir.

“Yes,” the other two replied.

“Could you possibly either make or get for me a set of claws?” she asked

“What?” Melda said in surprise.

“Claws, like...I will show you a picture,” said Galadhmir. She showed them a picture of leather hand coverings without any fingers that had short blades attached. When the person wearing the gloves made a fist, the blades would go out over their knuckles, and could then be used to slash and fight with.

“I think we could,” said Melda.

“I, also,” said Galenloth. “They look very useful.”

The weeks passed by quickly. Linwen taught Melda and Galenloth some Dwarvish, but they did it in the forest so as not to be overheard. (Dwarves do not unlock the secrets of their language to any outsiders, unlike the Elves.) They packed for their journey, bringing waterskins, along with the usual spare clothes and such that are always packed for trips. They checked and rechecked everything, so as not to leave anything behind.

The day arrived. Galenloth, Linwen, and Melda went down to the place where the Wood-elves formed the barrels into rafts and took them back to Laketown. The three joined the raftsmen, and the raft moved off downstream. No great amount of luggage was needed; this was not a very long trip. Food could be obtained at Dale, before the last leg of the journey. The three were very excited. Melda and Galenloth had never been to Erebor before, and Linwen had been away in Mirkwood for almost a year.

After a day and a nights' traveling, they reached Esgaroth. Melda had never seen a town before; the Dúnedain did not live in houses. It was very strange to her, this idea that people should live somewhere with walls of stone or wood. She looked around curiously at the paved streets, the painted doors, and most especially the roofs. The people looked happy and prosperous. Children ran about the streets playing. The three friends spent the night there, and in the morning they set out on the trek to Dale. 

END OF CHAPTER
Bell 

The Identity Quest--Chapter 2

Chapter 2

With the Wood-elves

As they rode into the forest, Melda sensed that this forest was different from any she had ever seen before. The trees were dark, and they overhung the path threateningly. Mirkwood deserved its name, she felt. The wood was frightening, as though it was unwholesome.

They traveled through the forest for several miles until they came to the Wood-elves' fortress. The fortress was impressive, with tall towers and many arrow slits. Melda heard many tales of this place from her mother, both about Tolowen's own experiences and those of the companions of Thorin Oakenshield on his last quest.

When Thorin's companions had come to Mirkwood, they had become lost in the forest. They stumbled across a group of feasting Wood-elves, and Thorin was captured. The other 12 dwarves and Bilbo were so bewildered that they didn't notice Thorin was missing! The remaining dwarves were captured by giant spiders, some of the evil inhabitants of the forest, but Bilbo saved them. In the end, the Wood-elves found and captured them as well. Bilbo had a magic ring, which he had picked up in the Misty Mountains, that would turn the wearer invisible. He used it to avoid being caught, then later helped all his dwarf friends, including Thorin, to escape.

Melda's mother, Tolowen, had gone to the fortress many times before. She usually went there for several weeks every spring, but this year she had not come back. Melda could tell that her father was worried, but she did not know what she could do to help him. She hoped, however, that her mother would be there; that seemed the only cure to his worry.

As they came up to the gate, the sentries hailed them, saying, “Who goes there? What is your errand?” Ranfea answered, 
“I am Ranfea. I come looking for my wife, Tolowen. This is my daughter, Melda.” The sentries conferred together for a moment, then one said, 
“You may enter; I will take you to the king. I am Thalion. ”

They entered through the great gates of the palace, which shut by magic behind them. Melda was awed by the splendor of the palace. It was built of stone, with wood on the inside of the walls. The stairways were beautifully carved out of wood, and the doors to the Elvenking's chamber were inlaid with precious jewels and metals. Two guards stood on either side of the doors; they opened the doors as the group approached.

The Elvenking was arrayed in magnificent, flowing robes. His beech throne was exquisitely carved, with birds and deer fashioned into the wood. It was bordered in gold and silver, and inlaid with jewels. Everything here seemed to radiate wealth and beauty.

When he spoke, it was with a higher voice than a Man or a Dwarf, but he did not seem young. His hair was silver with age, yet he was as spry as one just come to manhood. “Welcome, Ranfea. It is long since you entered these halls. What brings you here?” asked the Elvenking. 
“Lord Thranduil, I come seeking my wife, Tolowen. She has not yet returned to the camp of the Rangers, and she should have been there five days ago.” Thranduil frowned. 
“I will ask and see if any have news of her. Meanwhile, I ask that you partake of our hospitality.” Ranfea accepted, and together he and Melda went to the feast.

The Wood-elves laughed and sang. Elves, especially Wood-elves, are merry; they have a fondness for feasting and song. Ranfea, however, was inclined to be silent. He was worried about Tolowen, and he was in no mood for laughter and song. “What should I do if she is not here?” he asked himself. “Take Melda back to the Dúnedain with me? Or leave her here with the Wood-elves? I cannot raise her on my own; she would stay with one of the others if need be. She would be a strange child in a strange house. But here, she would be safe for the most part, and able to meet her mother's kin. After a few years, she could go to the Dwarves in Erebor. Then she would be able to live with all three kindreds she is descended from. And...” He closed his eyes, deep in thought. “She will have to make a choice. Tolowen told me that the Valar told her she must choose between Elves and Dwarves. She chose the Elves, since she had lived with them for most of her life; she had never really met a Dwarf. Tauriel had left her with a Wood-elf friend before the battle, and that friend raised her. Melda must have the chance to see more of the world, so that she will not pick blindly; I suspect she will be asked to choose soon. And she must choose from three races, not just two.” Ranfea was satisfied; if the worst came to the worst, Melda would be provided for.

Melda was excited. “Elves,” she whispered to herself as she entered the hall. It was her wildest dreams come true. These were not short, fat toy-makers; these were tall, slim, sprightly creatures, with bows, swords, and knives. Wood-elves' laughter was like a stream rippling over stones, or the wind among the trees, smooth and flowing. It was contagious; and Melda soon found that she was laughing, too. However, she heeded her father's warning, and kept hold of herself.

Ranfea and Melda ate their fill; there was plenty of good food to be had. Bread, butter, venison; all was there. Wine, too, there was in plenty. The Wood-elves feasted well and often.

Songs were sung, tales of great deeds done long ago were told, and all made merry. Elves have a seeming endless appetite for songs.

Ranfea sighed. All this reminded him of meeting Tolowen at that feast, so long ago. She was very young by the standards of Elves, only about 20 years old in mind, though by Shire-reckoning she was about 40 calendar years old. Her hair was waist-long, black as a raven's wing, and it glistened in the starlight, and her eyes were like deep brown pools. Melda had her mother's eyes. “Where is she?” he wondered. “Surely I would have news of her by now if she was here.”

After the feast the Elvenking beckoned to Ranfea and Melda. His face was more grave than before, and he spoke slowly. “I have news of your wife; it is not good. She was with a party of Elves in the woods when Orcs attacked. It was a large force, and several Wood-elves were captured,” he said, and then paused. “Your wife was also.” He held up his hand. “We did all we could to find the Orcs once we had news of this, but by then it was too late. The survivors did not reach us for a whole day. Also, they said the Orcs were headed deeper into the forest. We followed their trail. It went towards the far edge. It did not take long to find where they went.”

He paused again. Ranfea voiced his thought aloud. “Dol Guldor. They went to Dol Guldor, with the prisoners.” His voice was empty, as though he was too stricken to express his grief, and his head was bowed.
“Yes,” said the Elvenking. “Our scouts followed their trail nearer to that evil place than we have ever dared to go. There can be no doubt about their destination.”

Ranfea raised his head, and his eyes were red. The look on his face was so terrible to behold that Melda stepped back in alarm. “I will rescue my wife, if she still breathes,” he said. In his voice there was enough determination to shift a mountain. Melda was worried. What might her father do in his madness? And what would happen to her mother? Tolowen might already be dead or worse.

Together she and her father went to a guest room. “Melda, I must go rescue Tolowen, even if it takes me a hundred years. You must live with the Wood-elves for a time, but make sure that you do not stay forever. You must also visit Erebor, and learn about the Dwarves; you belong to them as well. I will ask Legolas* to look after you,” Ranfea told her.

Melda was rather excited about the prospect of growing up with the Wood-elves (and the Dwarves, but they sounded much less exciting), but she was worried for her mother and father. “I'll miss you” was all she could manage to say.

The next morning, Ranfea left. He told Melda goodbye, and that Legolas would look after her. Then he was gone, and Melda was with the Wood-elves.

She explored the castle. It had many rooms, lots of storage, and dungeons, where Thorin and Company had stayed until Bilbo had saved them with his ring. Melda had heard the tale often from her mother. There was also the great dining hall where the feast had been held.

*This is not the Legolas from the LOTR and Hobbit movies. This Legolas is from the book. He is very mature, being a couple thousand years old.

The Wood-elves went on a hunt, and Legolas took Melda along. There were about ten Wood-elves, and two children like herself. Melda was feeling rather lonely, so she decided to at least attempt to make friends, even though she was feeling very shy. “Mae govannen,” she said shyly, coming over. “Mae govannen,” they responded, and everyone looked at each other like so many owls. 
“My name is Melda,” she said. 
“Mine is Galadhmir, ” said a tall girl with very long, brown hair. Her eyes were a startling blue. 
“Mine is Galenloth, ” said the other girl. She was not as tall as Galadhmir, but her hair was just as long. Her eyes were green. They were both as slender as Wood-elves, and they both had the pointed ears of the Wood-elves, but Galenloth was rather short for a Wood-elf.

Just then, Legolas called Melda over. “The hunt is about to begin,” he said. Melda got on her horse just in time.

The hunt was exciting, but Melda was struck by how very gloomy and cheerless Mirkwood seemed. The sun could not reach the forest floor, and the trees seemed menacing. The feasting-place of the Wood-elves, however, was more cheerful. Stumps were used for seats, and the tree-branches made a beautiful canopy over the grass; a stark contrast to the remainder of the forest!

Melda ate her fill and joined in the merriment. One Wood-elf began a song on the harp; others joined in. It was easy to lose one's self in the gaiety and revelry, but she heeded her father's warning. “Where is he?” she wondered. “Is he among Orcs? Men? Rangers? Elves?” She had no way of knowing. Just then Galadhmir came over to her. 
“Mae govannen,” she said shyly. “Do you want to join myself and Galenloth?” Melda went with her. They found several stumps close together, and started talking about their families. 
“My mother, Tolowen, was just recently captured by Orcs. My father, Ranfea, is attempting to find her,” Melda said. 
“My mother, Tinca, and my father, Elodun, are both part of the palace guard, ” said Galadhmir. “And my mother, Calmire, lives in the palace as well. My father, Tharir, is in Erebor. He is a Dwarf,” finished Galenloth. 
“My mother is half Wood-elf, half Dwarf, too!” exclaimed Melda. “Really?” asked Galenloth. “Who were her parents?”
 “Tauriel the Wood-elf and Kili the Dwarf,” answered Melda. Both Galenloth and Galadhmir were surprised. “Your mother's parents are rather legendary! ” said Galadhmir. 
“But be careful about mentioning the name of Tauriel,” added Galenloth. “She is not popular with the Elvenking, even fifty years later. He believes she betrayed her own kindred by going to help the Dwarves against orders. And he does not quite approve of my mother's marrying a Dwarf, though he says nothing openly.” Melda sighed. 
“Thank you both. I will remember that about Tauriel,” she said. “But do you ever fight with each other, since Galenloth is half Dwarf and Galadhmir is a Wood-elf?” They both laughed. 

“We only met two days ago,” said Galenloth. “I had never been far from the cellars before, except at feasts. My mother has always worked in the cellars.”

Galadhmir broke in. “Where does your father come from, Melda?” she asked curiously. 
“He is one of the Dúnedain, ” Melda answered. “That is where I have grown up, until now. ” Galadhmir and Galenloth both stared at her in wonder. 
“So you are partly Wood-elf, partly Dwarf, and partly Ranger!” said Galadhmir softly. 
“Did you wander much? Or did you stay in one place most of the time?” asked Galenloth.
 “We wandered far and often. It was rare for us to stay in one place for more than a week or two, ” Melda answered. 
“Was it difficult, always being on the move?” asked Galadhmir. “In a way,” Melda said. She was lost in thought for a moment. “But then, it was interesting. New places to explore and new paths to find.”

They continued talking until Legolas came over and called Melda to him. The hunt was returning home to the fortress.

That night, Melda fell asleep contentedly. At last, she had found friends! With the Dúnedain, she had never had a friend. Her mother had been gone for half the year, so she had helped her father to cook and clean. When her mother was with them, she had helped her mother with the housework, and learned how to sew, cook, prepare skins, and things of that sort. She had never really had time to even want to make friends.

In the morning, there was a feast. Melda was feeling rather shy. Few Wood-elf children were there, but many adults. Wood-elves love feasts, merriment, and all things related. Melda retreated to a corner, and found another girl there. She looked about Melda's age. 
“Mae govannen,” Melda said shyly. 
“Mae govannen,” the girl responded. “My name is Melda,” Melda said. 
“Mine is Linwen,” said the other girl. She had golden-red hair slightly more than shoulder-length, green eyes, and ears like an Elf; but she was not much taller than a Dwarf. *

*Dwarves were about 5 feet tall, and Elves were about 6 feet tall as adults. Linwen was about 5' 3.

The two looked at each other for a minute. “There are a lot of people here,” said Melda, desperate to break the silence.
 “Yes,” agreed Linwen. “I am not fond of crowds. Are you?” 
“No,” answered Melda. “I have never seen so many people in one place at the same time before, and it is rather overwhelming.” Linwen was a bit surprised. 
“Never?” she asked. “Have you ever seen one of the Wood-elves' feasts before?” 
“No,” said Melda. “My father is one of the Dúnedain, and my mother never took me along on one of her visits to the Wood-elves before.” Linwen nodded.
“I am half Wood-elf as well. My mother is Ariara, King Thranduil's sister. My father is Frerin, the brother of Thorin Oakenshield,” she said.
 “He is? Then we are related!” Melda said. “My mother's father was Kili, Thorin Oakenshield's nephew. He was the son of Dis, Thorin's sister.” 
“That makes us...first cousins once removed, I believe,” said Linwen. “That sounds right, ” said Melda.

Melda and Linwen talked for some time before Linwen was called away by someone else. Melda couldn't see Galadhmir or Galenloth, so she found a seat and ate more food. Wood-elves were excellent cooks.

Melda went contentedly to sleep that night. “Now I have made three friends,” she thought. “And found second person who is also part-elven. I had no idea there were any besides myself who were part-Elven at all!”

End of Chapter 2

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The Identity Quest--Chapter 1

The Identity Quest

Note: This story plot is NOT a revision to the books The Hobbit or The Lord Of The Rings. Some ideas came from the movies and books, and the characters of different people are based on those same people in the books, but I am not attempting to edit those books. The storyline roughly follows that of the movies and the storyline in the Appendixes from The Lord of the Rings; this is not intended to be a “improvement” on The Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit. I consider those books excellent and not in need of any alterations; this is just a story based in Middle-Earth during the time of The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, and also slightly before it.

Chapter 1

Melda and Family--a missing mother

Melda walked along the path, troubled. Her father was not given to being cheerful, nor to constant smiling, but he was grimmer than was his wont. When she asked what was amiss, he told her to go and play. “What could be wrong?” she asked herself worriedly. “And where is my mother? She should have returned yesterday. I wish I could go with her on her visits to the Fair Folk.” Melda's mother, Tolowen, was neither Elf or Dwarf; she was both. Kili, one of Thorin Oakenshield's twelve companions in the journey to recover Erebor and also Thorin's nephew, had fallen in love with a Wood-elf, Tauriel. Before the Battle of the Five Armies, they had married in secret (for Elves and Dwarves did not marry in those days), and Tolowen was born. Kili had been killed in that battle, and Tauriel had gone to the Grey Havens, leaving Tolowen with her kin. Tolowen had met Ranfea in Rivendell, and they had been married soon after.

Ranfea was one of the Dúnedain, a race of men who had lived in Númenor before its fall. In times past, they were much more numerous, but now they had dwindled to a small people, roaming the hills. The Dúnedain were more akin to Elves than other men, and they spoke a language among themselves very like to the Elvish spoken in Rivendell, which was not the speech of the Wood-elves. His hair was light brown, and he had hazel eyes. He was not exceptionally tall, but he was not short either.

Ranfea had brought his bride back to his people, where they now lived. Melda did not like to always be roaming, but there were always new things to see and places to explore. “Perhaps Father is worried because Mother has not returned,” she thought suddenly. “If she has been hurt, I do not know what Father will do!” Just then Ranfea came out of his tent and called to her, “Melda, come and eat!” As he watched her run up the path towards him, he was struck by her grace. She moved with the grace of an Elf, though her face was not as fair. Her long brown hair streamed out behind her as she ran, and her brown eyes watched him intently and with a knowing look, though she was still a child in the reckoning of the Dúnedain. She was about 30 years by Shire-reckoning, but to the Dúnedain she was about 9. The Dúnedain aged more slowly than other Men, because of their blessing from Ilúvatar, who created the world. “Where is Mother?” she asked him as the two walked to their tent. Ranfea hesitated. “I do not know. I intend to go to the Wood-elves and ask what has befallen her. ” Melda's face clouded, and he hastily added, “She likely tarried there, and will arrive soon.” Melda was not fooled, though she did not show it.

The next day they started for Mirkwood, the home of the Wood-elves. Melda had long wished to see the tall trees and waving branches which marked the land of her kin. Indeed, she had though of asking her mother if she could come along on her mother's next visit, but now it was not needed. In spite of her worry, she was glad to be out in the bright sun and tall grass, on a horse, and off to Mirkwood! She loved her horse, whom she had named Thalion, meaning Steadfast or Strong.

Ranfea did not show it, but he was not in high spirits. He was worried about Tolowen, and his worry was the greater since she had never failed to return on the day appointed before. However, Melda's cheerfulness and the beautiful day helped to enliven his spirits as well. His horse was named Lhach, which means leaping flame.

They traveled from the wild lands east of Rohan to Mirkwood, and through Mirkwood to the fortress of the Wood-elves. On the way, Ranfea did not speak much, but he did point out to Melda the signs of a disturbance in Mirkwood as they rode along. “The Wood-elves still do not go near the south-western edge of the forest, where Dol Guldur lies. When the Company of Thorin Oakenshield came to Mirkwood, they passed over the Misty Mountains and went on the Forest Road and avoided that region altogether. Now the giant spiders have been coming in ever-greater numbers from that place, and with increasing boldness. Be wary! They are foes to be reckoned with, especially in great numbers.”

“Why do the Elves suffer the great spiders to live?” asked Melda. “They have tried several times to root out the spiders entirely, but did not succeed, although the land was clearer for a time. ” “They dare not go near Dol Guldur, where the spiders issue from,” answered Ranfea. “The Wood-elves hate the giant spiders, and show them no mercy.” He sighed. “Father, is Mother alright?” asked Melda. “I do not know,” Ranfea said. “But she most likely is, and soon we will be back in the wild with our people,” he added quickly. “Come, enough of this talk. I know you have always wished to meet Elves!”

Melda was beginning to be seriously worried. Her father was hiding something. She said nothing, however, and asked about the length of the trip. “We will cross the River Running by the eastern edge of Mirkwood, and go past where Laketown was, ” her father answered. “Then we will go to the Wood-elves' fortress. We will find your mother, and take her back with us; however, we may stay several days, since it is time you met the Wood-elves.”

He paused for a moment before continuing, “Before we arrive there, it would be well for you to know something of their customs and way of life. In the days after the Woodland Realm was founded, there was peace for many years. Then Smaug came, and he caused much mischief. He would have caused more, I am sure, but your grandfather and great-uncle went with their uncle, Thorin Oakenshield, as two of his company. Smaug was driven out and killed, as you know, by Bard. Bard is now Ruler in Dale. But I wander from my story.

“Now there is peace between the Wood-elves and the Dwarves, and goods go from the land of the King under the Mountain to Mirkwood. The Wood-elves have begun again to hold many feasts in the wood, as was their wont of old. They are merry and love wine, food, and other such things. Be wary that you be not caught up in the feasting so that you forget you are not all an Elf! They can hold more wine than we, and it is unseemly for a person to drink too much. They also love to sing, and will sing ballads all day and night if taken with the fit. Wood-elves hunt, and I think you will learn the practice while we are there.

“But remember this above all else: do not lose yourself in song or feast or hunt. Remember that one day you may have to fight. Do not lose yourself in ale or wine. If it is necessary for me to leave, I will ask the Elvenking's son, Legolas, to look after you. He is old, and wise enough to make sure you do not get too deep into trouble.”

It took them several days, but at last they reached the fortress where the Wood-elves lived.

Bell 

Melda's Adventures Redo

I am going to rewrite all of Melda's Adventures. I will remove all of the original chapters to avoid confusion.

Bell