Rivendell was the first home I remembered. My family live there among the green grass and the woods, between the river and the mountains. Although other races visit, only the elves really live there. To them I am The Dúnedan - the only one they know.
I was born in the Angle, where my mother lived for a time, and my father too. It is less pretty and more functional for the men who live there, and the Rangers who call it home. The people there know me as their Chieftain.
Minas Tirith, the white city, is where my heritage lies. Far to the south, it is also home to Rangers. I did not live there long and those who might recognise me would not know my name.
I made my home in Rohan for a time. There are no Rangers there - none of the Dúnedain - but they do have many fine horses. Those who knew me are now dead.
I do not have one home, unless you call it Middle-earth. Home is where I sleep. Tonight it is Bree, tomorrow it may be somewhere different. Perhaps one day there will be only one place I call home.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.