Disclaimer: I do not own any LOTR characters, and if I did, I wouldn't be on this site.

Authors note: Please try to use constructive criticism when telling me about my story. I want to hear what you think, and I want you to correct my spelling and whatnot, but try not to be negative. Positive feedback is always welcome.

As for the "Celebrain" issue, I never meant to make her a Marysue. In my revisions I've made her less perfect. Also I didn't want her to be "Celebrian". Elrond's wife, mother of Arwen and the twins. I know her name is close, but I want her to be her own character. Next time I will be more careful when choosing a name, but sense I've already written the story with that name and used it in the title. I'm not going to change it now.

As she rode she thought. She could still feel the arrows as if she had been the one who was shot. As Celebrain thought of her beloved, tears well up in her beautiful, light blue, eyes. Boromir had been her life, the one person she had loved, and will ever love, as it felt to her. The young elf fought tears, but they came anyway. She thought of the wedding that would now never happen. She was on her way to Minas Tirith, the white city of Gondor, to tell Boromir's father, Denethor, of his son's death.

Celebrain was a Mirkwood elf, the princess actually (She was to be queen, even though the throne was her twin brother's, Legolas. She would have the throne because he abdicated it so he could roam the Wilderlands). Like all wood elves, Celebrain had long white blonde hair, and bright blue eyes that held the spark of a young elf.

Like all elves, Celebrain had the magic of her people. She was immortal and knew the spells and enchantments that could help her out of a difficult situation if needed, but she was different. When the two Trees of Valinor were destroyed by Morgoth and Feanor made the three Silmarils, some of the light escaped from the trees. It found gifted elves and attached itself to them. They then had mysterious powers over different elements of the world. Celebrain's ancestors were some of those gifted with the Light of Valinor. Those powers were then passed on to Celebrain and her brother. Their powers were over lightning and wind, though in opposite extremes. Celebrain could control lighting easier than wind and Legolas the opposite.

Celebrain rode into the city as fast as her mare Lachant would take her. She wiped her face on her sleeve, and looked down at the knobby old man ready to speak with her. "Sir, I'm here to speak with Lord Denethor. Could you take me to see him?" She asked, trying, and failing, to regain her composure.

"I'm sorry, m'lady" said the old man "His Grace gave very strict orders not to be disturbed."

Noticing the emphasis on the word very she said "Then he already knows about... B-Boromir's death?"

"'Fraid so m'lady" kindly patting her on the back as she dismounted. "His Grace is in a right state about it too, not meanin' any disrespect.

"How did he find out?" She asked, shaking uncontrollably.

"Lord Faramir's men found his body on the river and, brought his horn, the horn of Gondor, back for his Grace. The horn was cleaved in half. It was scary seeing them ride in with those grim faces, gave me the shivers, it did" answered the man solemnly.

Celebrain's "thank you" was cut off as a rider raced through the city screaming "Captain Faramir calls for aid, Osgiliath is under attack!"

That was all Celebrain needed to hear, she handed her reins to the man, told him to stay put, and raced up the stairs into the main hall. Her skirts were no good for fighting, so she ran towards the spare clothing room in the tower. When she got to the room she found the smaller clothing ands took a pair of breeches and a tunic. As she crossed the hall she ran head first into another elf.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going" said the stranger

"No, no it was my fault," said Celebrain, looking the person she was talking to in the face "Alatariel?" The stranger nodded, "You don't remember me do you? It's Celebrain!"

"It's good to see you again!" Alatariel cried

"I know, it's been a while, we should catch up some time" Celebrain said

"I'm very sorry," Alatariel said "but I can't talk now, I must help the city healers get things in order here. I hope we talk though, later."

"Oh, yes of course" remembering what she was there for. She stood for a few seconds and watched Alatariel hurry away then she rushed down the stairs to the Armory. The place was deserted so she quickly picked up some light chain mail, leather boots, and a helmet. She didn't need a blade, bow or knife of any kind. She had special made weapons by her cousin Tradilador, the best weapons maker in all of middle earth.

When she returned for her horse the old man openly stared. "Are you really goin' to fight, m'lady?" he added, remembering his place.

"Yes I am, and there's nothing you can say to stop me" she said as he opened his mouth to argue.

He reached for Celebrain's reins, but when he touched them, he jumped back as if shocked. He stared at his hand for a second and when he looked up again, she was riding through the city gates.