Prologue

Nevaeh looked around the flet that was her home. It didn't look like much, but it was a roof over her head, and shelter from cool breezes. Nevaeh was only nineteen hundred years old, and her family couldn't afford to take care of themselves, let alone give her a place to stay and food to eat. So she had gotten a job as a maid for a very wealthy, rather snobbish Swyrel in the outskirts of Lothlorien in order to give her parents some money.

It wasn't a bad deal or anything. She worked for Arenwen, and he gave her a place to live, and sent money to her family. Of course, she missed her mother and father from time to time, but this was only a temporary solution. In about twenty or thirty years she would have saved enough money to help her parents out a little bit more. Then she could leave this place.

Her duties weren't too numerous. She did the wash, and prepared the meals. She cleaned up around the flet. Then at the end of the day she was free to go to her own little home and do whatever she pleased.

Nevaeh glanced outside and saw that the sun was getting close to down. It was time to prepare supper, and make sure that all was neat and tidy. She walked back into Arenwen's flet. It couldn't really be called a flet, considering that it was more like a small palace, and it wasn't in a tree. She wasn't exactly sure how Arenwen could even be an elf. He didn't like being up in a tree! Nonetheless, he insisted on calling his home a flet, and she wasn't going to argue with him over it.

After passing through the main hall, she turned off into the master bedroom to tidy up and collect the sheets on the way to the kitchen. She noticed that the fruit bowl on the bedside table needed replenishing. But what in the name of Valar was the fruit knife still doing in there? She simply rolled her eyes and tucked the knife into her pocket to take with her when she left.

She was just taking the sheets off the bed when she felt another presence in the room with her. She turned around quickly to see Andolin standing in the doorway. Her heart gave a little flutter and skipped a beat before she regained her composure.

Andolin was a close friend of Arenwen's, and was often at the main flet. He was an incredibly handsome elf with eyes the same shade of blue as the ocean. His hair was a rich honey blond a little darker than that of most elves.

"What are you still doing here cleaning? Sundown was hours ago," said Andolin.

"You lie. I came in just as the sun was descending, and that was only around half an hour ago," she said and lifted an eyebrow.

"All right, so I exaggerated a little. But nevertheless, you should be done for the night by now."

"Yes, but the wash still needs to be done, and supper to be made. I have spare sheets that I can put on the bed while these ones dry, and supper shouldn't take too long. I hope that Arenwen won't be angry if it's a little bit later than usual."

"I doubt he'll even notice. He's well into his cups tonight. More than likely, he won't even notice that he hasn't eaten the meal today. You ought to be getting back to your flet. The forest is dangerous when you are walking alone at night," replied Andolin, concern marring his brow.

"Thank you for your concern, but I am not afraid of anything. And whether Arenwen notices the meal or not, I won't neglect my duties."

"All right, suit yourself," he said with a shrug and left the room.

Nevaeh had almost recovered from the last exchange when she felt a presence in the room again. She turned to reassure Andolin that she was indeed fine to be finishing her chores and walking home alone. She stopped short when she saw that it wasn't Andolin, but a very obviously drunk Arenwen.

"How nice of you to ready the bed, my dear," he was intoxicated enough to slur his words when he spoke.

"I'm simply doing my job. I always change your sheets on the seventh day. You know this."

"I didn't know you were a loose elf," he continued, ignoring everything that she had said. "Oh well. I'll still have you."

"Oh no you won't. Please let me leave," she said as he cornered her between himself, the wall, and the bed.

"Now why would I let you do that? I don't feel like playing your game and chasing you."

"There is no need to chase me because I'm leaving," Nevaeh stated, angrily pushing a lock of hair back out of her face.

"Not tonight you're not. You have teased me for months and months, and I am sick of it. Tonight, I get my way with you, and every night hereafter if I so desire. I own you."

He crushed his mouth down on hers and greedily forced her mouth open to taste the sweetness he was sure he would find within. Nevaeh bit down hard, and shoved him back off of her. Arenwen wiped a trickle of blood away from the corner of his mouth and said, "that was not very clever, my dear."

He came back and squished her back against the wall, all the while running his disgusting hands up and down her slender body. He shifted so that she was forced onto the bed and he was on top of her, working her dress off. Nevaeh forced an arm between her and the loathsome elf, and pushed with all of her might. It gave her a small opening in which to make her move. Smoothly, she whipped the fruit knife out of her pocket, and plunged it into his chest.

Andolin stood up straight, and staggered back a few steps with his hand on the hilt of the knife. He pulled it out of his chest, and collapsed onto the floor.

Nevaeh stared slack-mouthed at the figure on the floor. He was bleeding from the wound in his chest, and a puddle was forming on the floor. He still held the knife in his hand. Nevaeh shuddered in both distaste and fear as she stood there.

She had killed him. All she could think was that she had just murdered a very powerful elf, and surely there would be consequences. Nobody would believe her if she told them the truth. Why would they? She hardly believed it herself.

Nevaeh turned and fled from the room. She ran as fast as her slender legs would carry her down the hallway into the ballroom. What was she doing? Pushing a lock of chocolate hair of out her face, she blew out a breath and looked around the room. There was nobody there; nobody to help her, nobody to blame her. Turning, she ran back through the flet until she reached the main doors. Her best plan of action was to slip out unnoticed and run for the hills.

As quietly as possible, she slipped out the door and began to run as quickly and quietly as she could. She had no idea where she was going, and barely noticed when she passed Andolin in her haste. He was much faster than she was, however, and caught up to her quickly. Placing himself in front of her, Andolin braced himself for the attack. Surely enough, Nevaeh tried to pummel her way past him, but Andolin merely grabbed her by the arms and held her in place.

"What's going on? You look terrified."

"I can't tell you, Andolin. I have to go now. Please let me go." How many times was she going to have to beg to be released tonight?

"Why? What's got you so frightened that you're running blindly in the middle of the night?"

"You don't understand. And you wouldn't believe me. Nobody would."

"Try me."

"It's Arenwen. He came into the bedroom right after you left. He tried to . . . he tried to rape me." The words came out on a sob, and she struggled to maintain her composure.

"That bastard. I'll kill him. What happened after that?"

She hesitated for a moment before whispering, "I did."

Andolin was taken aback by this, and lifted a brow as he questioned her. "What do you mean 'I did'?"

"I killed him." Nevaeh said with a sniffle. "He came after me, so I stabbed him with the fruit knife. Now I have to leave. It was an accident, I swear. I didn't mean to do it. It- It just happened."