Title: An Enticement of Fortune

Summary: "Elves were invincible, in all manners save two. Death in battle, and a broken heart…" The story of an elf maiden, lost for years, comes to light. (Early Third Age fairytale)

Pairings: Mirwen/Mablung

Rating: PG 13

Category: Drama/Romance

Author's Notes: This story could definitely fall into the Mary Sue category at the surface, and I hope it will not be written off as such. The elven customs/laws surrounding marriage intrigued me, and this story was born. I chose a beautiful elf, because, well, two reasons. Firstly, Tolkien's tragic heroines were inevitably stunning in appearance and it seemed to fit. Secondly, I thought it would be a challenge for me.

Mirwen's name translates into "Jewel Maiden", a name that came into it's own a while back when I was explaining to my mother the significance of Boromir's and Faramir's name. I'm not sure how accurately I formed the name, but I am as sure as humanly possible of the literal meaning.

The next chapter of "Through the Eyes of the Dunedain" will be up sometime early next week; I've been busy with essays for school.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, and I hope the great Professor isn't turning over in his grave. There have been greater blasphemies in fanfiction.

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In the history of Middle Earth, there have been few elves held in renown for their extraordinary beauty amongst their peers. Perhaps it was because they were so near perfection by nature.

Mirwen, so called for the sapphire eyes so rare amongst her kinsfolk, would have been one of these beauties if she had not been born the same year as Arwen Undomiel. This thought had crossed her parents' minds, but it was not of much significance. There was no purpose behind such thoughts, and there were plenty of elves who courted such a fair maiden.

As a child, Mirwen had lived for two things. The first was adventure. She would often be seen wandering far from home, in the outer borders of Rivendell. She would beg for news from the outside from every source imaginable. Her favourites were the sons of Elrond himself, Elladan and Elrohir. She oft times said that there was no better place to live then Imladris. For nowhere else did men come so often, and nowhere else were their tales as exciting. Her parents had worried that this passion would take their only child from them, but she had outgrown it.

The second was a path much better suited to a lady- Healing. Lord Elrond had taken her beneath his wing and she had flourished beneath such tutelage. Within several years, the elven men often joked that there was no better Healer then Mirwen of Imladris. Not only had she the skills, but she was much more welcoming to look at then Elrond.

She was not unaware of these comments, and she knew that they were not unfounded. One glance into a looking glass showed a straight and womanly figure, startling deep blue eyes, a complexion of honey and cream, pink rose petals for lips…she was beautiful. But she had no passion for physical appearances, and endeavored to avoid her reflection.

She had passed nearly a thousand years in such contentment. Suitors came, and it was not uncommon to see her walking amongst the trees with a companion by her side. Some who had called on her were from Lothlorien and some from even further, Mirkwood folk. But they always left without her hand, and stories grew that she could not love.

This was, of course, an absurd statement. An elf unable to love? But still it grew in its telling, until even men had heard of the bewitching elf who stole hearts in a single glance and refused to return them. They made her to be a beast, in her own way. Some claimed she was malicious, willing to do anything for another chance at a man. Others claimed that it was her innocence that so beguiled a man, and that her sweet temperament could not turn away a suitor. Those who knew her shook their heads, but rumours spread farther then a truth ever will, and in half as much time.

But in the end, it was not her own beauty that was her undoing…