Disclaimer: I am not Tolkien. I was never Tolkien. I will never be Tolkien!

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I have heard what has been said about what happened to me after I was released at the Mines of Moria. Of that tale I can say one thing: it's not true. I did not simply happen to wander back to Bree! Surely my admirers (and most of all, my master) think more of me than that!

 If you wish, as I'm sure you do by now, to hear the truth of my journey, read on.

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I was born in the woods of the Shire, not in Bree, as most think, at the end of a bitterly cold winter. Waking up one morning to find myself alone, I wandered the forest searching for my mother, but just got myself lost and up to my muzzle in frigid, cold snow.

That was a long night, full of dark dreams. When morning came, with the sun barely filtering through the trees, I woke, shivering with cold. Squirming and struggling, I rolled out of the drift and onto the hard packed snow beside it. I staggered to a standing position and shook the snow off my coat. Nosing through the snow, I found and ate a small shriveled apple.

That was how my days went for weeks. I found a few more apples, some nuts, and dead animals. Shelter could sometimes be found in a burrow, by a boulder, or in a hole I dug in the snow with my muzzle and hooves.

One morning, I peered out of my shelter and my eyes met with a tulip. Puzzled, I climbed out and surveyed my surroundings.

"Spring at last!" I thought joyfully as I took in the sight of grass and flowers amid patches of melting snow.

For the next few days, I explored the new beautiful landscape, sleeping on the soft, dewy grass and eating seeds, roots, berries and plants. Those were the happiest days I'd ever known - too bad they couldn't last.

It was mid spring, and I was looking for a snack at the base of a tree when I heard the crack of a stick. I turned, and before I could resist, a rough burlap sack was thrust over my head.

A deep, harsh voice - a human voice - said, "I've gotcha now, pony." I kicked blindly and the man gasped as my hoof made contact with his kneecap, then, chuckling, he sneered "Yer a strong 'un! Well, you'll be a good wirker, at least."

I struggled, realizing that he was taking me off to be a working horse. I had never worked for anyone but myself, so I didn't know what to expect. All I knew was that I could tell by his cruelty, it would not be a pleasant experience. I continued to kick and whinny, until something hard hit my head, and everything went black.

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I woke and found that my hooves were tied together and a rope held my mouth shut. The ground was strewn with sharp pebbles, but there was no sign of my captor.

"Oh, this is horrible!" I thought, wincing from the pain of my tight bonds. "Shall I ever be free again?"

Just as I thought this, several glowing shapes advanced from behind the beech trees where they had been hiding. As they grew closer, I gasped - these were the High Elves!

One that seemed to be the leader stepped forward out of the group and smiled gently.

"Sulaid, little pony!" he said, "Mae Govannen! My name is Gildor."

His eyes fell on my bonds, and he looked sad. Kneeling down, he loosened the ropes on my hooves and removed the ones on my muzzle.

"We cannot set you free, for this is the beginning of a long journey. You are to play a part in the Great Task, and removing these cords would hinder, or seriously alter what is to come."

I let out a snort of despair and he patted my nose affectionately.

"You will understand in time, little pony."

He beckoned to two of the elves behind him, and they strode across the lawn bearing a small basket. When they reached the spot where I lay, they set it down.

"Hannon Lle." murmured Gildor, as the two bowed and returned to the small group.

Gildor undid the silver fastenings and opened the basket to reveal several delicious-looking foods. He named each item as he removed them from the basket.

 "Apples, carrots, lembas - that's elvish waybread, and mirovour - that's an elvish drink that will give you some energy and help to heal you."

The food was delicious and satisfying. I soon felt healed and strengthened. 

Gildor made a movement as if to speak, when we heard a rustle in the brush, and a low grumbling voice.

"Alright, pony. I've got your dinner, and mine."

Quick as lightning, Gildor re-tied the ropes on my muzzle (looser this time), gathered up the basket, and was gone with the rest of the elves just as the man stepped from the woods and into the clearing where I lay, a deer thrown over his shoulder. Tossing the animal on the ground, he gathered some sticks and set about building a fire with which to cook it.

I closed my eyes and smiled, remembering what Gildor had said about my playing a part in a Great Task, and wondered what is was as I drifted into a contented sleep.

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A/N ~ Okay, that's the first chapter! Tell me what you think. Remember: the review button is your friend! ( what do you think of the revisions to this story?)