A Better Place - The Hobbit Fanfiction

Tenth Entry - A Great Deal of Singing

“What did you learn?”

“Reading, counting, how to use logic, maps…..ah, skills for our futures.”

“And your skills were acrobatics?”

“No. Well yes, that was one of my skills. But it wasn’t taught at school. But there was another school, a higher one, that came after the first school. The first one was free and the next one was very expensive, so I knew I couldn’t go. I had to find something to do that didn’t require that higher education.”

“So you learned, after school, how to do these things?” At my nod she continued. “Who taught you?”

“I taught myself, mostly. I couldn’t afford the lessons either.”

“What was your job before you were an acrobat?”

“I had two—I needed the money. I ah, served food to people at inns. I also cleaned at a different one, because they wouldn’t let me work more than a certain number of hours at either place, so working at two meant I could work more and get more money.”

“You did this while going to school?”

“Yes. School was from eight to three, and I worked from three-thirty to nine-thirty serving food, later on days we didn’t have school. Every other day I went in to the cleaning job around four in the morning until school started.”

“And you still had time to learn acrobatics?” She sank like a green drop of water to crouch beside my door—did all elves find that position comfortable?

“I had to. It wasn’t safe to spend too much time at home.”

“How many years did it take you to learn?”

“A lot. And I’m not telling you how old I am. I’m shy.”

She smiled secretively down at me. “I highly doubt that that is the case.”

“Why are you so fascinated with me bobbing about? Aren’t elves the epitome of grace and physical feats?”

“We are fascinated because we have never seen another creature able to perform them. You are weaker than us, but you have native talent.”

I shrugged. “Nearly anything can be learned if you try hard enough. You should see me in a random setting.”

“We have seen you.”

“Well yes, you’ve seen me throwing myself off of ledges and climbing a wall, that’s two things. I’ve been studying acrobatics for years and you think that’s all I learned? Shame on you.”

She lightly chuckled. “I did not say that, merely that you have intrigued us thus far. What else marks you as talented? We have taken notice that you sing tirelessly.”

“Not as well as you,” I countered. “I heard your people singing in the forest.”

“Elves are proud,” she said, eyes glinting in the faint light. “We are so accustomed to being so high above others that we do not expect anyone else to come within arm’s reach.”

I inhaled deeply, as I did when I was thinking. “I’m acrobatic, I sing, I climb things people think can’t be climbed.”

“You are brave,” she quietly added, and I shook my head.

“I knew where I would land. There was very little risk.”

“You spoke rashly to a man you are afraid of. I would assume that means you are rash yourself.”

I shook my head again, thumping it back against the curved stone wall. “No, I’m not rash. Or brave. I’m just tired. Your king does remind me of my father, just polished and sober and likely genuinely intelligent. But it grates on my pride to give in any more than I’ve already had to.” I tilted my head to catch her eyes through the bars. “The more I let others speak over me, the more I let them push or abuse me, the more I let them goad me into acting out of character because of my fear, the more of myself I can feel drifting away. We are born like raw gemstones into this world, tireless and hard and lovely. But we wear down eventually, or are crafted into something even more wondrous. Some of us take the chips out of who they are and make something beautiful of themselves. Some of us try to do that but can’t. And some of us did, or might have, if we hadn’t been so worn away there was nothing left. There’s nearly nothing left of me. As rash and dangerous as it might be, I no longer have the courage to pretend I think I will be able to live with myself if I show my belly to anyone ever again. There’s not enough of me left.”