Lord of the Rings 1. Prologue

Disclaimer:  I don't own LOTR!.... But I wish I did.

AN:  This story takes place during the Fellowship's quest to destroy the ring.  They have entered the woods of Lothlórien, where Legolas stumbles across a former love… One that he hasn't quite forgotten.  

**Translations:-**

_Melamin = _My love.

_Mellonamin = _My friend.

_Lirimaer = _Lovely one.

~*~

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**Prologue**

~*~

The amber leaves of the trees in Lothlórien seemed to whisper to him.  The branches swayed and the leaves rustled apprehensively, in knowledge of their coming and the great evil they bore in their midst.  He had only entered Lady Galadriel's forest once before, and the memories from that time, pained him to core.  

It was because of a certain woman that it pained him to enter the woods.  She was still here, where he did not know, but she had not left Lórien for the Gray Havens.  He knew they must make haste if they were to ever reach the fires of Mount Doom.  Still, he could not rid the memories.  If only he hadn't left, if only he hadn't lied…

His thoughts were interrupted as Gimli, son of Glóin, spoke to the awed hobbits.  

Legolas tilted his head to listen to the ridiculous comments made by the Master dwarf.  The short man could be utterly pompous at times!  Yet the good heart her bore upon his sleeve outweighed any negative aspects of the loud dwarf.

"Nothing can get past me I tell you young hobbits…  Nothing at all!"  The dwarf's voice tapered off in embarrassment.

Legolas frowned in confusion, but he soon found the problem as the point of an arrow pressed lightly into the side of his head.  He froze, trying to shift his sight to look upon the owner of the arrow.  He could see nothing.  How could he have let his guard down?  The woods of Lórien always caused him to behave irrationally and to think that he had been caught unaware was a great shame for the proud Prince.

A familiar lilting voice filled his sensitive peaked ears.

"Well, well, well.  What do we have here?"

Legolas's breath caught in his throat.  The arrow from his head was removed and a small, lithe figure jumped down in front of him.  His eyes grew wide, remaining fixed on a pair of glittering violet eyes.  He could see his own shocked expression reflected in the simmering gaze.  "Namiir…?"  He whispered, choking on the soft name.

The others behind him grew silent and regarded Legolas in bewilderment, yet he could still pick up the quiet murmurs of the ever curious hobbits Merry and Pippin.  They had not yet been freed from the arrows that were pointed at their heads, but that did not stop them from their nosy intentions.

Legolas ignored the hushed voices as he stared upon the woman that had captured his heart many years ago.  His eyes darted across the smooth features over the woman, glancing at her flushed cheeks to the pert nose and full lips that pouted out from her face.  She had not aged a day.  

It was her long raven hair that brought him to his knees.  The softly feathered locks came down to frame her face, and rolled in waves down to her back like an endless waterfall.  Yet at present her hair was bound into a lengthy braid, thick and full that fell down to her waist.  Her clothing was not the usual for a she-elf, for she wore a warriors' attire complete with a beige cape that hid the fragile body beneath.  A body Legolas knew and remembered all too well…

She smirked as though nothing dire had transpired between them, "You keep strange company for an elf, Legolas.  Four hobbits, two men and a Master Dwarf?  Yes, this is indeed strange times when an elven Prince seeks the company of a dwarf and hobbits no less.  Let alone the companionship of men."  Namiir said, her soft voice teasing him.  She held back a chuckle as she heard the dwarf and one of the men sputter in indignation.

Her greeting shocked him, but if this was the way in which she chose to deal with their parting, then he would oblige her with the same countenance. 

"We only mean to pass through Lórien, Namiir."  He replied gently.

She quirked her perfectly arched eyebrow in thought as she gave the Mirkwood Prince's companions a cold glance.

Aragorn frowned and strode up to his friend, bracing himself against the hostile stares of the elves surrounding them.  He looked down quizzically at the young woman's face.  "We mean no harm, Lady Namiir.  As my friend has declared, we only wish to pass through."  His face did not betray the astonishment he felt as he gazed at the beautiful woman clad in men's wear.  She was not of the Lórien elves, for she darker in colour compared with the Lórien elves.  He secretly wondered how she chanced upon servicing the Lady of the Wood.

"Aragorn!"  Gimli cried from his frozen position, "These woods are perilous.  We should go back!"

The she-elf fixed her hard gaze upon the stout dwarf and said darkly; "You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood.  You cannot go back."  Her comment merely earned her shocked expressions from the fellowship.

She turned her gaze back to the elven Prince and continued to stare into the deep blue eyes of her former lover.  "I know you mean no harm, Aragorn, Son of Arathorn." she whispered softly.  Her proclamation unnerved the Fellowship.

For the entire manly disposition Namiir displayed in wearing the warrior clothing, her feminine voice could not be hidden from them, nor could the soft features of her face.  Her countenance changed, "Follow me, Lady Galadriel has been expecting you," she said harshly, before placing her gaze upon a certain silent hobbit.  "Come.  She is waiting."  There was a strange flash in her eyes as she stared at the young ring bearer, yet it disappeared the very next moment as she turned around and walked swiftly away, deeper in the woods of Lothlórien.

Legolas shook his head resignedly before following, avoiding Aragorn's questioning eyes.  It seemed as though she had changed quite a bit from their past relationship.

Namiir's elven companions sent the Fellowship daring glares before turning to follow the commanding elf-maiden, striding rapidly behind her.

Pippin shook his head and cried out in indignation, "Well, they're certainly friendly!  They must have forgotten to eat their luncheon, no wonder they're so uptight!  Isn't that right Merry?"  He looked at his shire friend, but only received a blank stare in return.

"Hush that mouth of yours Pip," Merry whispered, "We don't want any unwanted enemies."

"Aye, don't you worry your wee heads, young hobbits!"  The Master dwarf piped from beside Merry.  "Although I would be careful around that she-elf of a witch, if I was you.  They say she can cast a spell upon any creature that enters her woods.  Terrible, terrible dark magic"

"Come now Gimli; do not trouble them with your extravagant stories!"  Boromir called out from ahead in amusement.

Pippin held back a chuckle at the expression on the dwarf's face.

Gimli scrunched his eyes into a glare, before muttering a few dwarvish curses under his breath as they trudged through the woods of Lorien.

It would certainly be an interesting meeting between the Fellowship and Lady Galadriel.  Not even the Master dwarf could deny that.

~*~

"Go to him, _melamin…"  A soft familiar voice whispered tenderly into her ear as she stared out at the lake positioned at the base of one of the spectacular trees of Lórien.  _

She sighed, bringing her knees up to her chest as she lowered her hand to gently into the lake, causing a trail of ripples in the sparkling water with her fingertips.  The grassy bank she sat upon glistened with midnight dew as the round moon above the trees of Lórien shone down upon her, bathing her in an ethereal pale glow.  "I cannot," she uttered back with sorrow.  Tearing her gaze away, she looked up and found herself staring into the emerald eyes of Haldir.

Both husband and wife gazed at each other silently.  Husband and wife in elven law alone.  

They were bound together by Namiir's father; it was he who had proposed for their marriage.  Namiir was against it from the start but she could not deny her father his last wish and so they were joined and bound together for the rest of their living days.  Although Namiir held no feelings for Haldir, his affections towards her were unrequited, an endless love.  He had her in every way he could imagine through marriage, but he did not have her heart.  That, he knew, belonged to a certain Mirkwood Prince.

He slowly sat down beside her upon the moist grassy bank, brushing away a few amber leaves in the process.  "Namiir," his voice grew stern, "You cannot run away from him forever.  There will come a time when you will have to face him and tell him what has happened."  It was strange that they were husband and wife.  At present, he seemed more like a father scolding a child.

The she-elf blinked, looking out at the lake once more.  "Why did you bind yourself to me, Haldir?"  She questioned painfully.  They had not spoken of their arranged joining in many years.

There was a pause and she felt as though an eternity had been stretched in that silence.  

"You know why, _melamin."  He finally answered._

"You call me '_melamin' and yet you know perfectly well we are only bound together by elven law."  She could almost feel him wince.  "Tell me, why you bound yourself to me when you knew my heart belonged to another?"_

Haldir drew a sharp breath, gazing forlornly at the portrait of her face.  "You know why," he responded quietly.  "Your father said you were grieving for your lost love.  He asked me to save you, give you something to live for once again.  He wanted to see you protected before he left for the Gray Havens.  That is why I chose to bind myself to you.  That is why your father made you promise him you would live on, and be happy."

She almost snorted at the word 'happy'.  "And I suppose you gained nothing out of the arrangement?"  She spat bitterly, not daring to cast a glance upon Haldir's face.

"Nay, for I have not gained your love…  Have I?"  Had Namiir not been an elf, Haldir's comment would have been lost in the whispering wind surrounding Lórien.  She would never understand how much he loved her.  From the first moment she had stepped foot into Lothlórien on her return from Rivendell, he had been captivated by her.  

He had never seen her prior to the time he had caught her shedding tears by the very same lake they sat by now.  Shedding tears for the Mirkwood Prince.  It was then that he learned she was fleeing from past ghosts that had haunted her every step, following her to Lothlórien.  He later learned that Legolas had indeed followed her to Lórien, but had also abruptly left after a few words had been spoken between them.  

And from that day, Haldir had vowed to vanquish the ghost of Legolas that still lingered in her heart.  But it seemed he could not fulfil his vow, for here she was as troubled as the day they met and still deeply in love with the Prince.  He had failed to gain her love, for her heart still belonged to Legolas.  And yet, he respected her feelings for the Prince and so merely bound himself to her out the duty to her father.  He could never have denied the wise elf of his final wish.  To see his daughter protected and happy.

 After what seemed an age, she shifted from her position and gently placed her head upon Haldir's sturdy shoulder.  "Your behaviour towards me is gentle Haldir, yet you show others a cold countenance bordering on arrogance.  Why is that?"  She asked, trying to change the subject.

He almost chuckled.  For the many years they had been bound, she had never taken an interest in his business or behaviour.  "Well _melamin_, I am cold because I do not have the patience to trust others."

She raised her head slightly, "And yet you have the patience to trust me?"  Her strangely coloured violet eyes flashed in the pale moonlight.

He adored her eyes.  They were his only weakness.  Haldir simply allowed a small smile to cross his face before he gave a slight nod.

"Wise elf," Namiir teased, her spirit lifted already.  No matter what issues they had between them, Haldir always managed to make her feel better in the end.

She closed felt a feathered kiss linger upon her cheek.  It was at times like this when she wondered whom she loved more, Haldir or Legolas.

"You will go to him _melamin," he whispered into her ear, "And you will be happy."_

She frowned and pulled away from the warmth of his body, "What?"

Haldir looked away, his eyes filled with pain.  "I will unbind myself from you, Namiir.  You will be free to choose how you will spend your life with Legolas."

Namiir shook her head, her loose hair rustling in the soft breeze, "But why, Haldir?"

"I made a vow to your father and to myself for your happiness and I will see it done.  No matter what the cost."  His voice had grown stern once more as he refused to look into her strangely coloured violet eyes.

The she-elf could feel a dull pain in her heart at the words, but the idea of being free was also appealing.  "Forgive me, _mellonamin."_

He looked at her in heartache. "Forgive, _melamin_?  What is there to forgive?"

She raised her hand and gently placed it upon his cheek, "Forgive me for not loving you in the way you deserve to be loved…"  Somehow, the words she had spoken contradicted the slight twinge in her heart.  "I am sorry to have caused you such pain these past years."

Although he felt disappointed at her words, he knew that this was her choice and for that alone, he would not interfere.  "Do not apologise _melamin_, you have no control over your heart."  He leaned closely for a chaste kiss upon her cheek.

Namiir felt her heart go out to her husband… Her former husband.  Could such bonds be broken so easily?  Surely it would be looked down upon…

A slight rustle of leaves in the distance caught his attention.  He knew who approached and so the elven soldier swiftly rose to his feet.  "I unbind you from myself, _lirimaer_.  You were not happy with me, but join the one you love and be happy with him."  Before she could say anything, he was gone.

Namiir froze, staring once more at the lake.  So much had transpired in one night, her head was swimming.  Haldir…  He had told her to join the one she loved.  But with whom did her love reside?

~*~

Night had fallen upon the ethereal forest of Lothlórien, but Legolas could find not sleep.  Instead, he wandered down the soiled path, following the small trail of the shimmering river that flowed over the browning rocks.  

Seeing his former lover had brought nothing but unanswered questions to his mind.  How could he have let her go?  Why had they parted on such grievous terms?  And now, why was she behaving as though he were a distant friend?

The questions were driving him past insanity into the depths of solitude.  He had never been one to express emotions.  Stoicism was his strong point, and if he were honest, it prevented him the heartache he felt now at the thought of Namiir.

He looked up through the billowing branches of the tree, gazing quietly at the dazzling stars before him.  They seemed so far away…  He sighed, wondering where Namiir could be.  He assumed she was sleeping, but that was not so as he approached the clearing that led to the lake.

There she sat beside the inky depths of the lake, bathed in pale moonlight.  She had changed her clothes and now wore a simple white laced gown that accentuated her curves and contrasted with her raven locks.  This was the she-elf he had known before, not the warrior she proclaimed to be during the day.

He wanted to turn around and leave, but he felt his body being drawn nearer to hers like an arrow spiralling towards its target.   Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat, announcing his presence as he approached.

Namiir looked up from the shining lake, only to find herself staring up into deep blue eyes.  She wrapped her arms consciously around her body, allowing her a shy smile to cross her face.  It was rather ironic that the person, whom she had been thinking about, now stood before her.  All countenance of her prior arrogance had been lost as he looked down into her eyes.

Legolas did not know what to make of her shy smile, but he forced himself to smile in return.   

"Forgive me Legolas," she whispered solemnly, gazing out at the lake once more.  It seemed that the eve was full of her pleas for forgiveness.  First it was Haldir and now Legolas.

"To what do I owe this forgiveness, Namiir?"  He asked lightly before settling down upon the grassy bank beside her in the same manner that Haldir had.  

She almost chuckled, "As ever, you try the mask the severity of the conversation."

"As do you," he replied in a monotonous voice. 

Namiir sighed.  He was certainly in no mood for light banter.  If truth be told, neither was she.

It was time to speak of the events that had transpired between the two many years ago.

~*~

AN:  A lot of Haldir I know, but more Legolas/Namiir to come soon.  If you want to know what happened between the two in the past and how they got together, stay tuned for the next chapter!  Please leave a review and let me know if you wish this story to continue, or if you think it is a waste of time.

Too Mary Sue?  Let me know!


	2. Book One: Chapter I

_AN:  Much thanks to the people who reviewed!!_

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**_Brief Summary:_**

_This chapter starts from the time that Legolas and Namiir met, the story will then continue to the moment of their separation and the years they had been separated from one another.  In that period of separation, the story of Namiir and Haldir will be told and in it, you will see a deeply embedded connection between the two… Is it of a friend or lover?  At the end of Book I, you will find out who Namiir chooses; Haldir or Legolas.  Of course, we all know what happens to Haldir in TTT (the movie of course, not the book)…_

_Amin mela lle = _I love you.

_Adar = _Father.

_Melamin = _My love.

~*~

**Book One:  Chapter I --- Strange Encounter.**

**~*~**

"Take Entarà and go to Rivendell, Farïr!"  The wise elf spoke in a hushed voice to his wife, handing over their young daughter.

"I will not leave you to die!"  The elven maiden cried out, taking their daughter into her arms with tears streaming down her glistening cheeks.

A party of Orcs were steadily making their way up the green valley of hills, in a much larger number than their own elven party.

Their cries pierced the air like a poisoned dagger.

"**GO!**"  He cried helplessly, unsheathing the elven sword at his side.

Farïr took one look at her husband, fear clouding her eyes.  "Amin mela lle, melamin…"  She whispered.

Time seemed to have slowed for the elven warrior.  He nodded, swallowing the grief he felt at the hurt upon her face.  

The shrill cries grew as the herd of Orcs approached, too many to count, lining the hills to cause a black border.

He looked at his young daughter, who was whimpering, then back to his wife.  "Tell her… Tell her that I never meant for this to happen."  The elven warrior lowered his head to place a small kiss upon his daughter's brow, and then upon his beloved's.  "Amin mela lle…"  

Time seemed to have stood for the husband and wife as the cries of warfare grew with the stench of the creatures.  The Orcs marched closer; they had not a moment to lose.  

"Now go," without a moment of lingering, he mounted the horse swiftly, raising his sword in the air.  He could not bear to watch his wife's face any longer for he knew he would follow her if he watched her go.

No other words were spoken as the elven maiden turned and ran gracefully into the canopy of trees that stood behind them.  She prayed to the Valar for the safety of her husband…  But knew it was a hopeless case.

~*~

She weaved in and out of the tall trees of Rivendell with swift determination.  Her elven feet caused no fallen leaves to rustle in disturbance and no sound was made as she ran forth, clutching at the hem of her indigo gown; until she came to a clearing in the amber forest.  She would have to be careful in the way she moved, for she was certainly named a clumsy elf by her father.  She often wondered how she seemed to be the only elf that was clumsy; most others were as graceful as the many precious woodland animals, silent and swift.  

The pale moonlight shone down softly upon the fallen amber leaves of Rivendell.  Namiir ran forth carefully into the clearing, searching the once disturbed area.  Someone had certainly been here before.  She looked up at the glittering stars, gazing at them with a distant gleam in her eyes.

A shower of light exploded in the sky, thousands of glimmering beads began to fall out of the sky.  

"Adar, father!"  Her gentle voice cried out with excitement.  She looked around slowly, a frown growing upon her face.  "Adar, you know I do not like these games, you have done enough hunting;  it is dark now, enough games!"  She called out loudly to the empty clearing, irritation marking the smooth features of her face.  She spoke once more in hopes that her father would show himself.  "Hurry father!  Gandalf the Grey is here and I wish to see his fireworks display before he leaves!"  

Namiir began to take a few steps away from the clearing, back into the thick amber foliage of the mystical trees, having given up on her father's adolescent behaviour.  Being only five hundred years of age, Namiir still classified herself as a child, as did her father.  Although she had come of age at fifty, as all elves do, she had felt the need to hold on to her childish intentions until she was at least over a thousand years old.  For elves grow in wisdom as the years pass.

Perhaps then she could mature, at that moment she was perfectly content behaving in a child-like manner.  Her figure, although looked graceful was a different matter completely as she stirred, and it still held a slight awkwardness as she moved around.  It seemed that she was not comfortable in her own skin.  She assumed that another five hundred years should rid her of the discomfort she felt in her body, until then she would have to make do…

She could hear the distant roar and thunder of Gandalf the Grey's fireworks display.  She allowed a small smile to touch her lips.  Such childish notions as watching a fireworks display was still not lost upon the young elven woman.  In fact, she took great pleasure in watching the new creations of the old wizard Gandalf.  Whilst younger elven children stood amidst the wizard's presence to watch the fireworks, she simply watched from afar and was comfortable in her tiny hiding spot as the young elven children danced around the merry flames of the fireworks.

In her utter excitement at the thought of fireworks, her senses became disarrayed and so her elven ears did not pick up on the gentle sounds behind her.  She was so unaware of her surroundings that she allowed her back to collide with a hard, warm object.

Namiir froze, her eyes darting back and forth in mild fear and anticipation.  A cold sweat threatened to break out over her porcelain skin as two strong hands firmly gripped her arms from behind, steadying her.

"You should be more careful, Lady."  An unfamiliar voice uttered softly into her sensitive ear.  She held back a shudder.  As the gradual shock passed and she regained most of her senses, she set about struggling in the sturdy grasp.

To her surprise, she was released without hesitation and she whirled around in her bemused state to find a pair of ice blue eyes watching her with delight.  "It is not safe for a Lady to be out alone at night," the strange elf continued.

She gaped at the outlandish elf that had dared to touch her in such an unbecoming manner.  Her eyes glazed over the strong features of the elf's face, clad in lowly warrior garments, to his regal brow and the exquisitely long hair that seemed to have been spun with white silk.  It was the eyes that caught Namiir's interest.  They gazed at her mockingly, condescendingly in icy blue amusement…  Or so it seemed.

A moment of silence passed as Namiir refused to answer to the sly comment made by the overtly handsome elf.  Along with the silence, she could see the amusement from his eyes fade away as she continued to stare at him coldly in stark silence.  She was never one to take interest in such matters of lust and love and so she saw nothing of importance in the blonde elf.  Yet she could not help but notice a stirring in the elf's eyes, as though he had awoken from a deep slumber.

She frowned.

There had been a time in her life, nearly a hundred years ago in which she had grown wild with the merriment of taking pleasure in men, but those years had passed and she seemed to have transgressed back into her former childish state.  She knew not the reason for the transgression, merely that it took place.  And it seemed that her father could not have been more pleased.

Legolas cleared his throat, clearly perplexed by the intent look he received.  "Have you lost your way?"  He forced himself to ask quietly.  

Prior to this, he had been practising his archery skills some hundred meters away from where he stood.  He was always glad for the opportunity to practise archery in the dark, it always improved his skill.  He had been immersed in hitting various targets specially set up for him, when he heard a voice call out.  Intrigued by the playful intonation of the voice, he followed the gentle sounds only to find himself standing behind this raven haired she-elf that was now gazing upon him in slight disdain.  

Never had he seen such a reaction from a she-elf, for they all seemed to be over come with a spell once they gazed upon him, much to his disappointment.  He would then be followed around by the countless females, in their desperate attempt to be noticed.  Even though he sometimes enjoyed the attention, it seemed to grow tiresome after a while and soon Legolas would scorn such attention from females.  And so this cold reaction coming from the strange she-elf was quite comforting.  He came out of his hidden trance as she rewarded him with a fleeting yet irritated glance.

"I have not lost my way."  She quipped lightly.  Her attention upon him seemed to be lost once more as she began to search the clearing.  Legolas merely watched her in adept fascination.  "Have you seen any other elven folk in this part of the woods?"  She asked suddenly, surprising him out of his thoughts.

"Nay…"  He trailed off as a prior memory came to him, "But there was one elf I happened to chance upon, he was riding inwards to Rivendell."

Namiir almost cursed at the news.  Her father had left her here.  Alone, and at night no less!  What could he have been thinking about?!  She rolled her eyes and abruptly began to walk in the direction of the place she had come from.

Legolas held back a surprised grunt as he moved forward to stop her from leaving.  He could not let her roam the woods by herself, especially after sun down, even though the Ford protected the borders of Rivendell, one could never be too sure how close evil lurked.

"Excuse me?"  Namiir said, shocked by the elf's behaviour.  "Kindly remove yourself from my path!"

The Mirkwood Prince frowned at the demand.  He had never been so callously spoken to before and if he were honest, he would say he was not fond of it in the slightest.  It seemed that the young woman had a lot to learn about etiquette and manners in the presence of others.  He had never used his station as Prince to demand respect, but he knew that she would not have spoken to him in such a manner had she known he was a Prince.

"May I at least be allowed to have a name, fair Lady?"  He forced himself to ask politely.

Namiir paused briefly before she allowed herself to answer.  "Only if you shall give me your name in return."  She frowned to herself, not knowing what compelled her to ask that question.  She was in no way interested of learning the elf's name and yet the question had tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself.  

Legolas's lips curved into a small smile, "Very well," he agreed as he looked down into the she-elf's startling violet eyes.  Why had he not noticed them before?  And why did they seem to glitter with such an abundant force of life?  His head was spinning as he forced himself to blink, realizing that his staring was making her uncomfortable.  Yet he could not help but wonder she had the strangest luck in her colouring.  Raven black hair and violet eyes were not common among elves.  She must be a Halfling of some sort, he reasoned to himself unwillingly.

"I am Namiir, daughter of Namör," she said suddenly.  If she hadn't known better, she could have sworn her skin had started to tingle as he stared at her.  But such thoughts were folly and so she dismissed them by speaking her name.

"Namiir," he repeated with interest.  It was a common elvish name; he was surprised she had been given such an undeserving name.

"And you?" she prompted curiously.

"I am Legolas, son of King Thranduil."  He waited for her reaction, but upon seeing none he added, "I am not from Rivendell, but from the neighbouring woodland realm of Mirkwood."

Whatever reaction Namiir felt to his name, she hid with a purpose.  So this was King Thranduil's son, the famous Prince Legolas?  She almost wanted to laugh.  There had been much enthusiasm on behalf of the Prince's beauty, but she could only see a handsome elf.  He was not astonishingly beautiful like the lovers she had in the past, although his intimidating presence could not be diminished.  Nor could the glowing aura that surrounded the Mirkwood Prince be denied.

Namiir realized that he was searching for her reaction to his announcement.  She grinned inwardly, suddenly filled with a mischievous disposition.  "Legolas you say?  _The Prince Legolas?!"  She feigned with girlish surprise. _

He nodded with dejection.  So, he had come across another fanatic she-elf.  Too long had he searched for a mate in which he could share his life with.  This was another she-elf that was wasted upon him, for undoubtedly she was only interested in his looks or royal position.  Or unfortunately, both.  He shook his head with disappointment.  He was certain that she would have been different from the rest, but it was not to be so.

"Oh, how wonderful!" Namiir said with artificial joy as she raised one eyebrow.  Her face betrayed her true thoughts and she gazed at him with revulsion before she caught the odd look that passed across his face.  Was that misery she saw upon his face?  Surely it could not be!  Suddenly uncomfortable with his reaction, she began to slowly move away from him.  She knew not why such pity filled her as she looked upon his melancholy face.  

Shaking her head, she forced herself out of the mischievous mood that reigned prior to her encounter with the Prince, "Well, I must be off!"  And with that said, she quickly ran from the clearing towards the inland of Rivendell, leaving the Mirkwood Prince staring after her in utter confusion.  He watched her run awkwardly away, almost as though she was not used to the task.  If he had been in his right wits he would have laughed, but the Prince was too bewildered to do such a thing.

"How odd…"  He murmured to himself as he turned around to return to his previous activities.  The disappoint he had felt towards her had been vanquished by her abrupt departure and yet, he could not help but wonder if she was intimidated by his presence as most other elven females were.

"Your majesty!"

The alarmed voice severed his thoughts and Legolas frowned in concerned confusion.  He turned, only to be met by a fellow elf, a Rivendell warden.

The elf did not waste time on pleasantries, "You must see Lord Elrond.  It is a matter of urgency!"  The panic in the elf could not be hidden, and so without reply Legolas followed him swiftly into Lord Elrond's presence, a sense of foreboding taking hold of the usually calm Prince.

~*~

"_Adar!"  Her voice rose to a high pitch as she walked through the halls of Lord Elrond's home.  Without the courtesy of knocking, she stormed into her father's quarters.  She found him hunched over the large wooden desk, littered with scrolls and parchments alike.  She glared at his back, intent on refuting him of his neglect at leaving her in the forest alone._

"What is it, hên?"  He spoke without turning to face her.

She froze, immediately catching the weary and sullen tone of his voice.  Lifting up the hem of her gown, so as not to trip, she made her way over to the large desk.

"What troubles you, Adar?"  She asked.  Her brow furrowed with concern as she knelt beside the desk, looking up at the portrait of his haggard face.

He turned his gaze slowly down to his daughter, grief simmering beneath the blue orbs of his eyes.

"Word has come of Tirôn."  The elder elf paused, unable to continue.  He did not want to see his own grief reflected in that of his innocent daughter.

"What about him?"  Namiir urged in earnest.  Why would he not tell her?

Namör sighed in regret.  "He has fallen, hên."  The deep voice of the strong elf broke off in pain.

The young elven woman stared at her father for several moments, before rising from her knees to stumble back in shock.  "H-how?"  She stuttered in a mere whisper.

"Ambushed by Orcs on their journey Rivendell," her father replied sternly in resentment.

"And what are the whereabouts of Farïr and Entarà, father?"  She braved herself for the reply.  When she received no reply, she spoke louder, a whirl of emotions cascading down upon her in a kaleidoscope of fear.  "**What happened to them?**"

He took another moment before he could reply.  Upon finding the strength to continue, he began once more in a miserable tone, "They were not found amongst the bodies."

Namiir whirled away, clamping her palm upon her mouth as she stifled a scream.  Her energy from before seemed to have drained and she fell lifelessly to her knees as tears threatened to spill upon her cheeks.  "This cannot be!"  She uttered quietly, shaking her head in disbelief.

Her precious elder brother was lost to Orcs and now her sister in-law and beloved niece were lost!  How could the Valar bestow such cruelty upon her in a single day?  She shook her head silently in defiance.  Standing once more, she turned to face her father.

"Farïr and Entarà are still out there Adar; we cannot leave them to die."  She pleaded her case desperately.

Her father nodded, "I have already implored the counsel of Lord Elrond.  He has deployed any help available in retrieving them."

A shower of relief fell upon her as she realised that her niece and sister in-law could be saved.  But as soon as the relief passed, grief engulfed her once more and felt the return of her tears that brimmed in her eyes.  "Tirôn…"  She whispered, looking at her father with renewed sorrow.

Without warning, she launched herself forward into the arms of her father, daring to neither shed a tear or sob, for she knew her father bore the same pain.  A gentle hand caressed the back of her head, trembling of its own will.

"We must wait for any new word until the sun has dawned, hên.  Until then, we must keep hope."

Although her father's words brought comfort, she could not help but already grieve for her niece and sister in-law.

The night would pass with troubled tension and she was terrified that a red sun would rise in the morning.  Sleep would not come easily to her on this night.  As her father tried to soothe her with comforting murmurs, the dam of tears broke and she cried out for her brother, her companion…  

Her broken family.

~*~

_AN:  That's it for now!  Hope you liked it, and please feel free to give feedback (hint, hint) good, bad or rude hehe!  **Huge thanks to the people who reviewed the previous chapter!**_

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_Until next time!_


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Lord of the Rings, Angst, Romance