Nameless
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Nameless.
A/N: I'm tired of all of these Mary Sue's. This story does not involve the events of LOTR at all. Nameless won't join the fellowship, she's not an Elven princess, not related to anyone and she's certainly not from our world. This takes place about 60 years before "The Lord of the Rings". Elvish translations can be found at the bottom.
Prologue
Legolas Thranduilion rode silently through the cold, dark winternight. The storm blew his hair in his face and he could hardly see anything; in fact he depended on his horse. The horse had the talent to sense obstacles before they could actually be seen through the snowflakes. He was on his way to take the next watch at the boarders of the kingdom of the Woodelves. Usually he liked that for it distracted him from the busy life in the palace, but not this night. It got hard to breathe with all those tiny snowflakes that kept dancing through the cold air. His horse moved like a grey shadow between the trees, fast and safe. They should be there in a few minutes; he wouldn't mind at all.
Indeed, fifteen minutes later he could finally see the great tree he had been looking for. He climbed off the horse and led it towards a small hut under the tree that had been built for the guard's horses.
"Mae govannen, my lord." One of the guards had already been waiting for him; he stood in front of the hut, a torch in his hands, then he bowed. Legolas raised his hand; a gesture to show the Elf that he did not need to bow.
"Mae, Lindir," he said. "You can go back to the palace now, but be careful. This is a cursed night."
Lindir nodded and looked up into the air. "This winter is cold, my lord. Too cold." With that he climbed onto his own horse and rode away. Legolas frowned. Lindir was a lot older than he was and not even he had ever had to deal with such a cold winter. He climbed up on the tree where the Elves had built a platform; he met the other guard there.
The Prince wrapped a blanket around his body and stared out into the night. It was useless. He couldn't see much, not even with his Elven eyes and he was known to be keen sighted. The times were dangerous and the guards were not here for fun.
The hours passed slowly, but eventually it stopped snowing and a new sun rose. The two Elves didn't want to admit it, but they were relieved.
"You can leave if you wish," Legolas said after a while.
The other guard looked at him. "Are you sure, my Prince?"
Legolas nodded. "It was a long night, my friend. Ride back to the palace and get yourself something to eat."
The Elf shrugged. "All right, my lord."
Legolas wanted to be on his own for a while. He needed time to think. Lindir's words worried him more than he wanted to admit, actually. The winter **had** come too fast and it **was** way too cold. He couldn't deny that, but he didn't know the reasons either.
Suddenly he heard a noise down on the ground; getting his bow ready, he jumped up. What he saw down there surprised him. It was a human, dirty and wrapped into rags. The human hadn't noticed him yet and he decided to watch the person first, before he did something. Indeed, his decision was right: the person took just another step and collapsed then on the frozen ground.
Legolas climbed down, quickly, to examine the human. When he walked closer he saw that it was a girl; long, dirty hair fell down to her waist and made clear that he was dealing with a female. He turned her around to see if she had hurt herself when she had fallen. She opened her eyes as she felt his hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes.
"Who are you?", she asked with a groan and pressed her hand on her knee.
Legolas noticed that she was bleeding. "I'm Legolas Thranduilion," he replied. "Do not move now. You are wounded, my lady."
Both of them knew that she certainly did not deserve this title for she was just a filthy human, but the girl stayed where she was, anyway.
"May I ask for your name, my lady?", Legolas asked as he wrapped her into his blanket and helped her up.
"My name is ... my name ... I-I don't know." Legolas frowned. "I don't lie!", she exclaimed. "I really don't know."
"I don't think so," he said, softly. "It is just unusual to meet a nameless woman in the kingdom of the Woodelves."
"Is that where I am?" He nodded and helped her towards the small hut; he doubted she would be able to climb a tree in her state.
"Yes, this is King Thranduil's kingdom." She raised an eyebrow.
"But ... if Thranduil is your father ... that makes you the Prince." She threw herself to the ground, her face in the dirt, until Legolas pulled her up.
"For now, I'm a mere guard. Save that behavior for the palace."
She smiled. "All right, my Prince ummm guard." Legolas laughed.
"Call me Legolas, my lady. What should I call you, though?"
"I don't know. As you said, I'm nameless."
"Well, that's something. I'll call you Nameless."
The young woman smiled again. "As you wish, Legolas."
Legolas got her another blanket and soon she slept beside the Prince's horse, safe and warm.
Elvish translations:
Thranduilion - son of Thranduil
Mae govannen - well met
Mae - good, "okay"
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Nameless.
A/N: I'm tired of all of these Mary Sue's. This story does not involve the events of LOTR at all. Nameless won't join the fellowship, she's not an Elven princess, not related to anyone and she's certainly not from our world. This takes place about 60 years before "The Lord of the Rings". Elvish translations can be found at the bottom.
Prologue
Legolas Thranduilion rode silently through the cold, dark winternight. The storm blew his hair in his face and he could hardly see anything; in fact he depended on his horse. The horse had the talent to sense obstacles before they could actually be seen through the snowflakes. He was on his way to take the next watch at the boarders of the kingdom of the Woodelves. Usually he liked that for it distracted him from the busy life in the palace, but not this night. It got hard to breathe with all those tiny snowflakes that kept dancing through the cold air. His horse moved like a grey shadow between the trees, fast and safe. They should be there in a few minutes; he wouldn't mind at all.
Indeed, fifteen minutes later he could finally see the great tree he had been looking for. He climbed off the horse and led it towards a small hut under the tree that had been built for the guard's horses.
"Mae govannen, my lord." One of the guards had already been waiting for him; he stood in front of the hut, a torch in his hands, then he bowed. Legolas raised his hand; a gesture to show the Elf that he did not need to bow.
"Mae, Lindir," he said. "You can go back to the palace now, but be careful. This is a cursed night."
Lindir nodded and looked up into the air. "This winter is cold, my lord. Too cold." With that he climbed onto his own horse and rode away. Legolas frowned. Lindir was a lot older than he was and not even he had ever had to deal with such a cold winter. He climbed up on the tree where the Elves had built a platform; he met the other guard there.
The Prince wrapped a blanket around his body and stared out into the night. It was useless. He couldn't see much, not even with his Elven eyes and he was known to be keen sighted. The times were dangerous and the guards were not here for fun.
The hours passed slowly, but eventually it stopped snowing and a new sun rose. The two Elves didn't want to admit it, but they were relieved.
"You can leave if you wish," Legolas said after a while.
The other guard looked at him. "Are you sure, my Prince?"
Legolas nodded. "It was a long night, my friend. Ride back to the palace and get yourself something to eat."
The Elf shrugged. "All right, my lord."
Legolas wanted to be on his own for a while. He needed time to think. Lindir's words worried him more than he wanted to admit, actually. The winter **had** come too fast and it **was** way too cold. He couldn't deny that, but he didn't know the reasons either.
Suddenly he heard a noise down on the ground; getting his bow ready, he jumped up. What he saw down there surprised him. It was a human, dirty and wrapped into rags. The human hadn't noticed him yet and he decided to watch the person first, before he did something. Indeed, his decision was right: the person took just another step and collapsed then on the frozen ground.
Legolas climbed down, quickly, to examine the human. When he walked closer he saw that it was a girl; long, dirty hair fell down to her waist and made clear that he was dealing with a female. He turned her around to see if she had hurt herself when she had fallen. She opened her eyes as she felt his hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes.
"Who are you?", she asked with a groan and pressed her hand on her knee.
Legolas noticed that she was bleeding. "I'm Legolas Thranduilion," he replied. "Do not move now. You are wounded, my lady."
Both of them knew that she certainly did not deserve this title for she was just a filthy human, but the girl stayed where she was, anyway.
"May I ask for your name, my lady?", Legolas asked as he wrapped her into his blanket and helped her up.
"My name is ... my name ... I-I don't know." Legolas frowned. "I don't lie!", she exclaimed. "I really don't know."
"I don't think so," he said, softly. "It is just unusual to meet a nameless woman in the kingdom of the Woodelves."
"Is that where I am?" He nodded and helped her towards the small hut; he doubted she would be able to climb a tree in her state.
"Yes, this is King Thranduil's kingdom." She raised an eyebrow.
"But ... if Thranduil is your father ... that makes you the Prince." She threw herself to the ground, her face in the dirt, until Legolas pulled her up.
"For now, I'm a mere guard. Save that behavior for the palace."
She smiled. "All right, my Prince ummm guard." Legolas laughed.
"Call me Legolas, my lady. What should I call you, though?"
"I don't know. As you said, I'm nameless."
"Well, that's something. I'll call you Nameless."
The young woman smiled again. "As you wish, Legolas."
Legolas got her another blanket and soon she slept beside the Prince's horse, safe and warm.
Elvish translations:
Thranduilion - son of Thranduil
Mae govannen - well met
Mae - good, "okay"