*Ok, this is the new and, I hope, improved Aniron Amariell. When ff.net got rid of its NC-17 stuff, this story was taken off the site. But now its back and I have made a few changes, so even if you've read the story before, you may want to start at the beginning. I'm currently working on both this fic and a Harry Potter fic, so I may not be posting as often as I'd like. Please be patient and don't worry….I'm not going to abandon you all to torment and death….errr….I mean, I'm not gonna leave this fic unfinished!! So please read on and ENJOY!!
**Disclaimer: Okay, I do not own any of Tolkeins LOTR characters. If I did I would make all of them to horribly wonderful things to please me sexually insert evil laugh. No, but seriously, I own no one in this book, except Amariell. I made her up all by myself !! Go me and my writing talent!! Okay, enough of my babbling…read the fic and review so I can bask in all my coolness for writing such a good fic. Or shoot me down and tell me its crap…I don't care either way!!
A child is found.
Arcollo's ears picked up on the sound almost immediately. He grabbed an arrow out of the quiver and notched it, ready to jump into action at a moments notice. His archery practice completely forgotten, he moved now toward the sound. It grew louder as Arcollo drew nearer, his movements that of a cat as he stealthy picked his way through the thick foliage that was Mirkwood. Who would be all the way out here, Arcollo wondered to himself as he came upon a small clearing. He was almost to the eastern most boundary of Mirkwood and he couldn't imagine any elf that would be out so far, much less an elf making so much noise. It is a strange noise too, thought Arcollo, almost like a wounded animal.
As he neared a clearing, Arcollo realized that the noise was not being made by an animal, but rather a baby. In the middle of the small clearing, at the base of a tathar* tree trunk, Arcollo found an infant wrapped tightly in a blanket, wailing loudly. The child continued to cry shrilly as Acrollo lifted it into his arms and looked it over. What she-elf would leave her newborn babe out here on the edge of Mirkwood, Arcollo wondered. His sharp elven eyes scanned the woods surrounding him. Maybe the baby's parents were still around, he thought. He noticed that the baby had quieted its cries a bit and he drew back the blanket from its face. The baby's hair was dark brown and its eyes were the color of the sky above, a brilliant blue, even through the tears. Arcollo brushed the already thick hair away from the baby's face and tucked it behind its ear. The baby smiled a little and gurgled. Suddenly, Arcollo froze, his hand right by the baby's small ear. He looked closer at the ear, thinking perhaps his usually sharp eyes were deceiving him. There was no point in the baby's ear, not even a hint of one. Its ear was completely round. Arcollo stared in amazement at the baby he held in his arms. This was no elven baby he held, it was a child of man.
Arcollo again looked about him into the surrounding woods. He held the baby tightly to his chest as he began to walk back toward his home. What was he going to do? He could not leave the baby here all by itself. These woods were a dangerous place to be at night for anyone, least of all a newborn babe. It wasn't until Arcollo had re-entered the woods, did his sharp vision pick up the slightest bit of movement approximately half a league in front of him.
"Who is there?" Arcollo called out. Only silence answered his call as Arcollo continued to make his way deeper into the forest. Again, there was a hint of movement, but now off to Arcollo's left. He whirled on the sound and stared awestruck as a cloaked figure stepped into his line of sight. The figure just stood there, unmoving. Arcollo guessed that the figure stared at him, though he could make out no face, let alone eyes.
Arcollo thought it best to speak. "Does this babe belong to you?" He asked, holding the bundle out from his chest, and toward the figure. The cloaked stranger did not move at all, nor did it speak. It simply stood there as if frozen. Arcollo fingered the hilt of one of his long knives. What did this person want? If Arcollo tried to flee, would it follow him? Did it want the babe he had just found? All these questions raced through Arcollo's mind as he contemplated what his next course of action would be. Arcollo inched forward, returning the bundled babe to his chest in order to protect it. He kept his eyes on the cloaked figure, as he slowly made his way forward. As he approached, the figure did not move. It simply stood there, seeming to stare at Arcollo from under its hood. Arcollo was getting nearer to the cloaked stranger and was about to call out again, when the baby began to wail.
Arcollo stopped in his tracks, surprised by the sudden outburst, and lifted the child to his line of sight. As quickly as the babe had begun to wail, it stopped. Arcollo examined the tiny bundle in his arms, but when he saw nothing that gave him alarm, he wrapped the blanket tighter around the babe and looked up. The cloaked stranger was nowhere in sight. Arcollo looked about him, nervous that while he was examining the baby, the figure had slipped behind a tree and now waited to ambush him. Cautiously, Arcollo began to walk again, but he for the remainder of his trek, he neither heard nor saw any sign of the cloaked stranger.
*tathar: Sindarin name for a willow tree.