A/N: 'Ello, and welcome to my first ever (published) fan fic, so please rate. I've tried to write this in Tolkien's style, which is a bit more "telling" than "showing" and almost fairy-tale like in its simplicity, but let me know if anything seems "off". Yes, Annuiamarth is a new charrie, but I didn't have much info on other female elves from Rivendell and wanted to create a character who would match Elrohir (granted, I've made him a bit moody, but after your mom gets tortured and then leaves, who wouldn't be?).

Annuiamarth belongs to me, and me alone. All else belongs to good ol' J.R.R., may he rest in peace. Enjoy!

Another Elleth

Year 2,510

With the painful loss of Celebrían, wife of Elrond, a great pall fell over Imladris. Silence pervaded all parts and peoples, and the light seemed to darken. Though Elrond had worked through night and day, striving to bring Celebrían back from the poison and the darkness that the Orcs had inflicted upon her, he was only partly successful. The light of Imladris never returned to Celebrían and she left over the Sea, bound for the Grey Havens. Elladan and Elrohir, sons of Elrond and Celebrían, prepare to leave for the North to battle the Orcs.

Elrohir, son of Elrond, walked among the great columns and dark shadows of Imladris, heavy with thought and grief. Though he and Elladan had brought their mother back in body, they had all lost in her in spirit. Arwen, his small thél, he, and Elladan was without a mother, as Elrond was without a wife. He and Elladan had failed.

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If only, Elrohir reflected, he could give full measure and storm to his grief. Already it turned into stone within him, choking him at night as he stared at the arches of his room, rousing him to walk through these empty halls. As he passed by looking glasses, he could see the sorrow reflected in his dark eyes, the frustration in his shoulders and gait. He longed to ride into the dark woods without care or concern for himself, but Elves expressed grief in sad songs and quiet morning, nor stormy deeds or tears.

His thoughts were broken by a slight rustling sound in the courtyard to his right. He turned smoothly, hand resting on the small dagger held at his waist. His last journey had taught him that not all acts of battle were planned.

When a small elleth stepped from behind the black shadow of the great oak in the center of the courtyard, his hand dropped from his waist. He bent his head.

"Forgive me, lady. I did not know that anyone was here."

"There is nothing to forgive, Lord Elrohir. I was sitting here with only my thoughts for company."

Elrohir straightened, examining the elleth, ignoring the voice in his mind that whispered that he was quickly reviewing her for a threat. But she was slight and small-boned, perhaps only barely a thousand years, her fine nut-brown hair lying on her dark blue dress making her seem much younger. But her dark blue eyes were wise, and for some reason, very bright.

"And what thoughts may that be, Lady-?" Elrohir asked out of courtesy. He did not need the slight problems of a young elleth to be added to his own troubles.

"Annuiamarth, Lady Annuiamarth," she finished, her voice surprisingly strong and deep for such a small elleth. "And my thoughts are of pain."

"I sorrow for your pain," Elrohir replied, his mind already back over the Sea.

"That is very kind. But it is not mine own."

Startled, Elrohir looked at Annuiamarth, who looked back at him steadily, eyes bright, he realized, with unshed tears.

"I sorrow for your pain, Lord Elrohir. I sorrow for you, and the Lord Elladan, and the Lord Elrond, the Lady Arwen, and the Lady Celebrían. It was a terrible thing that happened."

"You did not know her." It wasn't a question. He had never seen this elleth in all his days, and he doubted that Celebrían had either.

"No, I did not. Not as a companion or lady-in-waiting. But I saw her, often, around Imladris. I saw that she was a loving mother."

The grief grew larger, choking Elrohir as he had not let it do so during the day.

"She was," he acknowledged. "And you mourn her leaving?"

"I mourn all leaving," she replied, voice low. "Whether by body or spirit." After a pause, she went on, "Perhaps it is only my sensitive soul, that feels things so acutely when they are not even mine. I rarely fare well in the face of pain or danger."

"The Darkness might well engulf you then," Elrohir warned.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But I gain happiness in the knowledge that at least I can glory in the smallest of things, even as I despair in slightest appearance of Darkness." She bowed her head once, then moved away from him, back across the courtyard, and down a hall.

He realized that her sad eyes matched his own sadness.

A/N: This is NOT a one-shot, there's about 3 other already-written chapters coming, so please review so I know there's genuine interest! Also, points goes to the first reviewer who figures out the significance of Annuiamarth's name ;)