***Just a prologueish thing***
Clearly, I do not own Middle Earth, any of Tolkien's character's etc. But sort of do own my version of modern day ME (ooh I own a continent!!)
Miröwen was an Elf, originally of the realm of Imladris. She had long been a friend both to Elessar and Gandalf, and in the years after Bilbo had left Bag End, she had, at the Ranger's request, diligently kept watch over the Shire. Though she was one of the High Elves, kin to Glorfindel, she had never asserted her place as an Elf of any influence, or even stayed long in Rivendell. She did not care for the company of other elves, instead preferring to wander alone in the vast wilderness of Middle Earth. She did however, find the habits of Hobbits and Men endlessly interesting. During the war of the Ring, she had tirelessly protected the lives of the innocent, in the Shire, Bree, and Rohan.
After Sauron was defeated and peace settled over the land, Miröwen lived for awhile in Gondor and Ithilien. Many years passed, and Aragorn died. Frodo and Gandalf, along with the Elves of Middle Earth, passed into the west.
But Miröwen stayed, unable to part herself from the land and peoples she had watched over for thousands of years. For many more years Mirowen wandered under the diminishing trees. She witnessed the light fade out of the Elven realms. The Mallorn trees died, Eryn Lasgalen became once again dark and overgrown, and even to Mirowen, the valley of Imladris became increasingly elusive and hard to locate. She watched as the forests of Fangorn, Ithilien, Lothlorien, and the Old Forest, shrank to mere woods, remnants of their former size and greatness. And then only sadness and regret filled the heart of Miröwen, and the forests and peoples of Middle Earth looked only like shadows of their former glory. Then, while wandering deep in the heart of the once Golden Wood, Miröwen sat with her back against a tree, laid her sword across her lap, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.
Miröwen slept for millennia, reliving, in her mind, her life since she first awoke. While she slept, the continent of Middle Earth changed. It's cities fell, and it's people died out. Mountain ranges were battered by wind and rain until they were only hills, great rivers turned into trickling streams, and little brooks overflowed their banks. No more did Mearas run over plains, or Great Eagles rule the skies. Then people spread across the land like ants, ripping and shredding at the earth with an irreverence they had never shown in the past. Roads of concrete scarred the land, and the air grew black and foul. And through all this Miröwen slept, and the glade surrounding her remained unchanged.
Then one day something did change.