Summary: An elven girl is born into the Middle-earth, carrying a quest needing to be accomplished. Her quest must not fail for the future of Middle-Earth depends on it.

Expect the Impossible
Prologue

In the age of Middle-earth, an elf was born, a she-elf it was, but the moment the young elf was born, the thunder roared and the lightning flashed. Suddenly, a dark shadow was seen, the darkest shadow that ever lived. The dark creature spoke, filling the empty space with its screeching voice. The horrible sound the creature created made all crouch in fear, all except the young she-elf. She remained silent and made no sudden movements.
"Ah, the young elf I have come in search of. She who will bring the fall of the dark. Soon I shall have her killed! She does not have the right to live!" The creature inched closer to the young until the elf's father stood in between the two.
"No! You shall not harm our precious jewel!" With that, he took out a long elf made sword. The mother held onto her child tighter, afraid to lose her first-born. She was weak from giving birth few minutes ago and she did not really have the strength to fight. All she could do was watch as the two swords clashed together making a loud CHING that rang through the whole forest.
Soon, the swift bows started to come towards the fight, all well aimed towards the enemy. The shadow quickly dodged some of the arrows and left all heading towards the elven father. After thinking quickly, he made up his mind and stayed in the way to block they arrows, knowing that it would hit the defenseless mother and child. He tried to block them all with the sword, but the arrow of the swift elves hit the father as he fell to the ground hurt. The mother squealed and the evil laughter of the shadow soon followed. The elves soon came rushing in, noticed that they had accidentally hit their foe instead.
"I shall return someday! Beware for the evil has not yet given up!" With that, the figure soon blended in with the rest of the world and was gone. The hurt elf was soon aided, but did not survive the arrow of the best archer in Mirkwood. Even though the archer was only 18, the elf with golden hair was the fairest of all in wielding the bow and arrows. Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood, was soon filled with grief and sorrow knowing that he had killed one of his own kindred. The wife as the mother of the young elf held a heavy heart, trying to survive to take care of her child, buried the body. Soon her heartbroken life was filled in with the joy of the growing child. Soon everybody had continued on with their lives, and all sorrowness was forgotten by the elves of Mirkwood. Legolas and the rest of the royal elves of Mirkwood made sure that the word was not spread around in Middle-earth. The story was forgotten by most in after two thousand years or so...

A/N: I know that the prologue is very short but...hey! It's not the first chapter! Please don't flame me...this is my first Lord of the Rings fanfic...please review and continue reading! Thankies for those who actually even took the time reading!