“Yuck, Frodo, you are just so gross,” exclaimed Elanor in disgust as her younger brother Frodo scooped up a fat wiggly worm from under a wet puddle of mud. The young pink worm, being lifted up so suddenly, wiggled even harder.
“So?” said Frodo. “Elanor the warrior is not afraid of tiny little baby wormies.” And he flung the worm right into Elanor’s slender golden hair.
“Yeuch!” cried Elanor, and frantically pulling off the worm she tried to grab Frodo at the same time. Frodo dodged at the speed of lightning, and flying off uphill he cried, “that is so unfair! If Goldmine threw that poor baby worm in your hair you’d probably cradle it in your arms and say, “oh wormie baby, did I scare you?” And running even faster he disappeared behind the mill, the hills around still echoing his voice, “Elanor the unfair! Elanor the unfair!”
Goldmine, in reality, was fair Goldilocks. Frodo had called her Goldmine after he read the part about dwarves in “The Hobbits”, and his reason was that her hair, like Elanor’s, blossomed gold, and if he callrf her Goldmine her hair would be even richer in the color of gold. She was at her fairest age of 16, while her beloved Frodo and Elanor were already grown-ups. Still Frodo acted as if he could never grow up, which was one of the reasons why Goldilocks like him best of all.
Goldilocks shook her head gently and buried her head back in her storybook. She was a gentle and quiet girl at times, and sporty and warrior-like at other times. She had learnt shooting with Elanor, and sword fighting with Aragorn as he arrived for some time 4 years ago. But she never learnt trouble making with Frodo. The only thing why she did not like Elanor best was that she was fairer than Goldilocks was; and as a girl she was jealous, though she herself did not know it.
She knew that though Frodo ran at the speed of a charging bull, Elanor would catch up with him at no time. Trouble will happen then, and Elanor would complain to Dad and Dad will kill Frodo. But anyway, Frodo was in trouble for ninety-nine percent of his day anyway. And he would soon revive after he got killed, she reassured herself. She book marked her book with a leaf, stood up, stretched and picked up her bow. Just as she was thinking about polishing her bow she saw at the edge of her eyes a dark figure behind a tree.
“Come out!” She commanded in her most warrior-like voice. Her dark eyes suddenly flashed, colder than marble, and she raised her bow swiftly and with great elegance. She fitted an arrow onto it.
Then the figure emerged. He was only a boy slightly older than Goldilocks was, and he stared and blushed as if he did not know what he was doing. “Oh, it’s…it’s… just me,” he stuttered. He fingered nervously with his dark hair and said, “what is yours?”
“Huh?” said Goldilocks, and she blushed at the same time: I was such a jerk. It was just a boy, and I nearly shot him! As she blushed the boy stared even harder.
“I mean,” he said,” what’s your…..what’s your, sorry.” He finished. It didn’t make sense anyway.
“Goldilocks,” Goldilocks said, smiling slightly as if she could read his thoughtS.
…proceed to part II