The Singer's Girl

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, except the stuff that you didn't see mentioned in the Silmarillion or anywhere else. Can't sue me! Ha ha!

Also, I know that this story is probably riddled with errors and clichés. Go easy on me, okay? I'm no Tolkien expert. Thanks, and enjoy!

Chapter 1: A Dangerous Attraction

Okay, I admit it. I was stupid. Really, there were several good reasons as to why I shouldn't have fallen in love with Maglor son of Feanor. These were as follows:

I'd never met him before. I'd barely even HEARD of him. I had no idea what he was like at ALL.

When I met him for the first time, his family was on exile from Tirion because his dad had threatened one of his relatives. That's a sure sign of trouble.

Any sensible girl would have known better than to get involved with one of the Sons of Feanor. It's just common sense.

Yes, these were all very good reasons, and I should have followed my own advice, but the fact of the matter is that I am not a sensible girl, and so when I met Maglor I fell for him immediately. Like I said, it was sort of stupid. I'm impulsive by nature, I guess.

I'll never forget that day when we first met. Back then, I lived in a forest up north (I'm sort of reclusive, plus I'd lived alone in a forest before I moved to Valinor and it was what I was used to), sort of near Formenos. Of course, back then I didn't know what Formenos was. I'm just using that as a reference point. So, anyway, I was living up north, when I received news that a family from Tirion had been exiled for some reason and were living nearby to me. When I say "received news" I mean that an animal told me. I can speak to animals, see. Should I have mentioned that?

When I heard about this, I didn't really give a crap at first. It wasn't like they were going to bother me at all. At least, I hoped not, since my privacy is extremely valuable to me. And I was right, because for the first seven years or so my life didn't change at all.

But soon, everything changed.

It was late summer, as I recall, and I had left my house (technically it wasn't a house, it was more of a shack, but I considered it my house) to gather some food for supper. I'd been walking for a few minutes when I heard a horse whinny, and then someone yelling.
"You stupid freakin' horse! What the heck was THAT? Are you trying to kill me or something? I oughta…" Whoever it was lapsed into swearing. Being curious as to who was in my woods yelling at their horse, I went forward a few steps. What I saw, I was completely unprepared for.

The horse in question was white and medium-sized, with a very well-bred air about it. It also looked very annoyed. The person who was swearing at the horse was a young chap with long, wavy hair who also looked very annoyed. I couldn't see him very well, as he wasn't facing me.

"Excuse me," I said. "Why are you swearing at your horse?"

He turned around, and my breath caught in my throat. This guy was absolutely gorgeous. He had pale skin, fine, elegant features, and brilliant amber eyes that seemed to glow in the dim forest light. Oh, and he had amazing hair. I'd thought at first that it was plain dark brown, but on closer look it had some reddish highlights and nearly reached his waist. All in all, he was WAY hot.

"You'd swear at him too, if you were in my position," he said. Gods, he had a gorgeous voice.

"No, I wouldn't," I replied, my environmentalist nature getting the better of me. "Swearing at animals is not the way to get them to behave."

"There ISN'T a way to get this animal to behave. He absolutely hates me and I have no idea why."

"Hmm…" I thought for a moment. "I think I can figure it out." Walking up to the horse, I put my hands on my hips and switched into horse-language. "Hello."

The horse snorted. "Hello. Are YOU going to lecture me now?"

"I'm not going to lecture me, but my friend over there claims that you hate him and that he doesn't know why. DO you hate him? And if so, why? He seems like a good sort to me."

"Oh, of course he seems like a good sort to you. PEOPLE love him, for some reason. Personally, I can't stand him."

"Why?"

"He thinks he's better than me."

"Well, you can't really hold that against him. Lots of people think they're better than animals."

"Well, he certainly isn't better than ME. I come from a very good family. My mother was Nahar's sister!"

"Would you like me to tell him that?"

"Yes, I'd appreciate that very much. You're a good girl, Miss…what's your name?"

"Anduril."

"A pleasure. I'm Delroch."

I nodded and turned back to Delroch's owner, who had been watching us all this time with a slightly amused look on his face.

"So what's the verdict?" he asked.

"He says he thinks that you think that you're better than him, and that his mother was Nahar's sister so you most definitely are NOT better than him."

"Is THAT all?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Sweet Cuivienen. I'd thought it was something much more complicated. Please give him my apologies. Arrogance sort of runs in my family, you see."

"He says he's sorry, and that arrogance sort of runs in his family," I told Delroch.

Delroch snorted. "I knew THAT. His father's a regular lunatic. Threatened his own half-brother, you know."

"Wait," I said frowning. "That was his dad?"

"Of course. Haven't you heard about Feanor? I thought everyone had. Maglor here's his second son."

"Is that true?" I asked Maglor.

"Is what true?"

"Sorry, I forgot that you couldn't understand Horse. Is it true that you're Maglor son of Feanor?"

Maglor sighed. "I can't believe that I'm having this conversation already. Yes, I'm Maglor son of Feanor. Who are you?"

"Oh, gosh, I can't believe that I forgot to introduce myself! I'm Anduril, daughter of no one. Hi, nice to meet you."

"Well, your name certainly fits you," said Maglor. He was right, it did. Anduril means "Flame of the West," and since I have bright red hair, it describes me perfectly.

"Thanks, I guess."

"So I assume that you're not going to freak out because I'm a Son of Feanor?" asked Maglor, looking rather surprised.

"No. Why should I? I'd barely even heard of you until a short while ago. I barely even know anything about your family. Is it true that your dad threatened his half-brother?"

He sighed again. "Yeah. It was way stupid, I know. Sometimes I think that I must be adopted."

"Well, at least you HAVE a family. I've never had one."

"Why not, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

"I was one of the original Elves to wake up by Cuivienen. I'm not related to anyone."

"Cool." There was a brief pause.

"Excuse me, but I'm getting quite thirsty," said Delroch. "Can we get going, Maglor?"

"He says he's thirsty and asks if you can get going," I translated.

"Okay, we can go, Delroch," said Maglor. "Nice talking to you, Anduril."

"Yeah. Same here."

Maglor mounted Delroch and grinned at me before riding off. "Peace out!"

Hmmm…he's smart, funny, and way cute, I thought. This could work!

Author's Notes: First of all, yes, the main character's name is Anduril. And yes, that is the name of Aragorn's sword. I couldn't help it. The name just suited her.

Also, it said in The History of Middle Earth that Elves having red hair was uncommon, but it never said that no one but Nerdanel's relatives had it. I don't think.