Tattered curtains ripped around in the wind, barely touching the sorrowful face of a girl, whose beautiful tear-stroked features could be seen in the frequent flashes of bright lightning which haunted the sky. In her dreams she was writhing, struggling with the will of her parents, whom she hated with a fierce passion.

Why, why am I treated as a slave in my own home? she had mourned before sleep claimed her.

The whole day she had spent doing household tasks in place of her drunk mother, who

jeered at her whenever possible. Without so much as a thankyou, a nod of

acknowledgement or even some food. No, she was made to make that as well.

Another lightning bolt struck and the wind howled more furiously, her long blonde hair flew around her gorgeous head like pale tendrils of mist, yet it did not knot. Every single strand fell harmoniously alongside the next in a dazzling river of gold.

Many a night she had mourned thus, grieving over her unfortunate circumstances, wishing, always wishing to wake up somewhere else. In this she retained a childlike faith that those things could happen. And would happen, someday.

And she knew exactly where she wanted to go.

Issabel woke with a start, after hearing a shout. Must be my horrible excuse for a mother she thought irritably.

Then she saw her surroundings.

No more was she in an old musty bed with a mere sheet to protect her from the chilly wind. She was not even inside. A vast expanse of green and brown greeted her large, blue and unhappy eyes. The unfamiliar forest seemed to smile at her from above.

A beautiful bird, unlike any she had ever seen before swooped and landed itself on her shoulder. Its claws seemed to respect her fragile body and did not dig in.

'What is your name sweet one?' she asked it, fully expecting an answer. The bird chirped and nodded in the direction of a rather large tree.

She raised herself with an effort, as the work of yesterday had been painful. Her eyes fell upon a fair haired being coming toward her, with golden hair to match her own.

Recognition hit her like a bucket of cold water on a cold winter's day.

'Legolas,' she breathed, gazing into his deep, timeless eyes. At the same time she could feel he was searching hers.

Legolas stopped in front of her never able to tear his gaze from her. Such beauty belonged to the Valar alone surely! Indeed it was painful for him to look at her and many long moments they stared at each other each being enamoured by the others physical beauty.

At last Legolas broke the silence, 'Are you a Maia my lady? That at least would explain your breathtaking beauty and knowing my name!'

Issabel was indeed surprised. For by her father and mother she had only ever been called ugly and other ghastly names. 'Beautiful my lord? I fear your eyes deceive you, for I am no Maia.'

'Then pray, tell me how you know my name.' he insisted, his curiosity building.

The bird on her shoulder chirped again and she vaguely noticed seven other figures coming their way.

'Would you believe that I am not from Middle-earth my lord? I am from a place where Middle-earth is considered only a story on film.'

Perplexed the golden haired elf fixed his deep blue eyes once more on her sorrowful ones. There was something in those eyes he could not discern yet it was not an evil. 'I will not pretend to understand you,' he answered 'yet I do not sense that you are lying. What is your name? '

Issabel hesitated, should give a false name? Issabel sounded grating on her ears although she thought, that was because of the way her abusive parents used it. On the tongue of Legolas it would likely sound like music…

'My full name is Issabel Louisiana Lawson,' declared Issabel.

'Issabel,' he repeated carefully, his rich accent making it sound more pleasant than she had ever heard her name.

'Where in Middle-earth am I?' she queried, flicking some strands of gold from her eyes in annoyance.

'You are in Lothlorien, my lady,' he replied, 'my fellowship and I seek refuge here for a while. Now, we must move on, there are orcs behind us. Will you come with us lady?'

The other seven now stood there in silence, stunned as Legolas before them by her ethereal beauty. Now the shorter figures looked hopeful at his last question.

'Of course I will,' she replied almost cheerfully, forgetting for a moment the sadness of her life and looking ahead to this new one. She cherished the memory of her name on his tongue. 'And Legolas,' she called after him as he turned to walk away, 'please call me Issabel.'

'But of course my lady,' he teased lightly. Gently he took her hand in his and led her through the forest, the fellowship following. None being able to take their eyes off the lady's beautiful figure. Her hair glinted like gold in the soft morning sun and their eyes seemed blinded by it yet they would not avert.

In Aragorn's mind she was more beauteous than the lady Galadriel herself.

Issabel had a feeling this was the start of a very long adventure…

TBC…