Source: Pre Ring War
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns this world and all who inhabit Middle-earth.
Notes: Slight cheat because it's a redux of something from '05, but I'm hoping for inspiration to follow.
The signs, bent grasses, broken twigs, were obvious... too obvious. Estel was two days into the Old Forest, chasing Ranger’s tales of the ‘Old-Man-o’-the-Woods’; never seen, but always there, sometimes aiding, always watching...
Now, laid in his path, a jug of water... sticks laid for a fire... a tacit invitation to camp. He searched the glade – no one. Overhead, reddening skies spoke of sunset.
It wasn’t cold, but the fire’s crimson glow was comforting; surely nothing ill would be drawn here? He ate, drank the water, still refreshingly cold, and, almost immediately, fell asleep. He thought a merry voice sang:
Kings under the Mountains,
Kings of Golden Hall,
All shall be as friends to you,
If they do not fall.
Lord of Silver Tower,
Lord of Broken Horn,
He shall ne’er be lost to you,
Even though you mourn.
Come away now Elfstone,
Come away Tom’s dear,
Though red dawns shall sing for you,
You must never fear.
The voice drifted from memory, the dream-images faded. He woke. No one... save a shaft of dawn sunlight flashed rainbows off the dew-wet blade of an ancient dagger. A gift! But...?
Estel never saw the giver, yet left the forest strangely comforted.