Disclaimer: Alas, alas, I bring dark tidings. I do not own anything created by the great Tolkien. No, I am just another poser in this world of desperate imposters. The plot and myself were created by me and only me, so if I catch you sneaking away with either without so much as a by-your-leave, you have been warned.

Author's note: Everyone, this story will be slow going, and I don't expect to finish it for a very long time. It will be especially slow going, as I am posting my other story as infrequently. So, forgive me for the delays, but please keep reading and reviewing!!!! I ask that if you do review, please let me know of any problems or mistakes I have made. Also, I have done so much research on this story that my mother has seriously considered finding me a shrink (she doesn't understand us Tolkien addicts!), but I do not claim perfection, so, those of you who have reached the Expert Tolkien stage, I know that there will be some definite problems with places and events. But remember, this is fiction, and I am trying to the best of my abilities to make this fit in to Tolkien's timelines, and I personally believe, that for a teenager, which I am, to be able to make enough of this fit with the Middle Earth records, I'm doing alright. Well, enough of that ego trip; read, enjoy, and, best of all, review!!!!!

Guardians of Ennorath

Prologue

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            Here begins the account of a story, yet to be told, to accompany those tales that were recorded by the late Mr. J. R. R. Tolkien. This man collected many of the tales of old, and with much literary skill, filled in the many gaps of knowledge with great imagination. He proceeded to tell of the beginnings of this world, by sorting out as many of the myths and legends about creation as he could, and he was able to retell it most beautifully.

            That is well, for the hour is late in this world. Many have forgotten, by choice or unknowingly, our history. The people and cultures who previously occupied these once great lands, have long diminished. All that remains of them are the children's tales, the bedtime stories of those mythical creatures who only live in dreams. They say that only the race of Man survived, and they chose to forget the Firstborn of this earth, the Fair Folk, if you will. Man chose to forget all of the great struggles of the past, and all of the people who suffered through them. It is because of this ignorance that none, save a few, know the truth.

            The Firstborn, or the Eldalië, were commonly called the Elves. But these elves are different from the image known to mankind today. These elves were tall, and slender; the most magnificent of creatures to see. They were peaceful, unless threatened, in which they could fight more fiercely than any man. These elves were also said to be immortal, unless struck down with a lethal wound that was beyond healing, or else there were those that could die of a grief-stricken heart, the most painful death imaginable. They were healers themselves, protectors of the flora and fauna of Middle Earth, which is what this once beautiful world was called.

            Of course, there were many other races of beings; dwarves, ents, men, hobbits, and those foul creatures created by Melkor. But this story is to be centered on the Elves. Master Tolkien, although a great genius, who compiled his stories and histories from old, once forgotten manuscripts, forgot to include the account of two very important Elves. They were of the Laiquendí, who dwelled in what you might know as Mirkwood, which was once called Greenwood the Great. The Laiquendí were of the Sindarin race of the Elves; they excelled in lore and literature, and cared greatly for the woods and caves in which they lived.

            The first of the two elves you already know well, for he was part of the great Fellowship of the Ring. His name is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood; a protector of the ringbearer and an aid to the future King Elessar, in the War of the Ring. In Tolkien's collections, his past is not made clear, nor his future. In this story that is quite the contrary, for he plays a major role in the coming narrative. The other one mentioned, you will soon learn about.

            Let this reticent be known only as the messenger; and she feels that it is her duty and her right to set the story straight. For Legolas did not sail on a ship to the Undying lands, with his friend Gimli of Gloin, as was previously told by Master Tolkien. No, his tale ended differently. The word "ended" is ill-fitting, as his story has yet to end, and it will not cease to end for a while yet.

            Please forgive this envoy, for she is not as accomplished in literary works as the late Master Tolkien. Her attempts are feeble, at best, but they are with great purpose. Now, let it be known, the long tale of Legolas and Soronúmë, who walk among you, unbeknownst to all.

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            A/n~ Yes, I know this is short but if you look at the chapter title, it says Prologue. My chapters will most definitely be longer, though they will be few and far between. I hope you all like this, because I will be finishing it if it is the last thing I do. I have been plotting out all of the pieces for so long, and this story gets me so excited, that I must finish it and let you guys get a glimpse of what is running through my mind all the time(shock, horror, amazement, she can think?!?!?). So please review, tell me what's wrong, or say whatever, just know that flat-out flames will be the source of my amusement for many days on end, so if you're looking to get me angry, today's not your day. Thanks!!!!