A/N: I got the idea for this fic when I got a bit tired of reading about Mary Sues because they are so unrealistic. Plus, I wanted someone that isn't perfect to be the main character.... But I know this fic is probably really bad, so please review and tell me how I can fix it! ~Morgaine of Ithil~

An Elven Story

Chapter One

A long time ago, by the reckoning of the world of Men, an Elf-child was born. The child was of the Lorien Elves, and was trained in the woods to become like the rest of the Elves: wise, fair, skilled. The story of this Elf is a most remarkable story, and thus it should be told. Once upon a time....

Nilulmaien wandered through the city of Lothlorien, searching for her tutor. She slowly moved through the trees reaching the archery range. There she found Avarthon waiting with two finely crafted bows and two quivers of the same make. When Avarthon spotted her, he frowned at her lateness.

"Were the times of your archery practice not prearranged? This is the fourth time this week," he scolded her. "Surely you do not get lost? And you know of my limited time, do you not?"

Nilulmaien calmly picked up one of the bows and an arrow, turning her back towards him. She placed the arrow in the bow and aimed for one of the targets placed a distance away. Pulling back her right arm, she extended the bow to it's full length, then released it and the arrow flew towards the target. The arrow's path seemed to be straight towards the middle of the target, but it wavered and instead struck a nearby tree. Avarthon winced.

"Do you still think it is practical for me to waste your time when I can't even hit a target that any Man child could strike with ease?" she asked, turning to face her tutor.

"Well, it would help if you weren't so difficult all the time," Avarthon replied. "You can start by pulling your hair back; it's hindering your aim."

Reluctantly, Nilulmaien complied. She tied her long dark hair back in the Elven fashion. Her hair was her strangest feature. It was dark, like the hair of the Rivendell Elves, but it held a few thin strands of silver. Her eyes were brown and well-guarded so that no emotion could be seen. She had a tall slim figure and was dressed in a male archery uniform: dark brown pants, light brown tunic, green sleeves and boots. Around her neck hung a silver necklace with a silver leaf-shaped pendant, the sign of the Lothlorien Elves.

"That's better," Avarthon commented. "Now, try again. Focus a bit more, make sure the arrow is aligned perfectly." Nilulmaien set up her shot again and released the arrow. Once again, it missed the target.

"Perhaps I need a bigger target," Nilulmaien said sarcastically. She dropped the bow beside the quiver and leaned against a tree. "Perhaps I'm simply not skilled with archery."

Avarthon sighed and wondered if this was going to get anywhere today. "Let's try a moving target," he said, "For some it is easier to hit." Nilulmaien picked the bow up again and shot an arrow at the moving target half-heartedly. It hit the target straight in the middle. Avarthon raised his eyebrows. "And you said that you didn't have the skill. I think you concentrate too much and you let your frustration get to you. Shall we try the stationary target again?"

Nilulmaien glared at him. "It was chance, not skill," she remarked. "Let's move on." Avarthon nodded and handed her two short, curved swords. She took one in each hand and prepared to face Avarthon. Their battle was a strange mix. Both possessed the great speed common to Elves. Avarthon fought with ease, planning, and skill. Nilulmaien's movements were clumsy and unpracticed. Avarthon was beginning to gain the battle and was about to bring his swords down on Nilulmaien's back. In desperation, she dropped to the ground while turning and used the flat side of her blades to hit Avarthon behind the knees, causing him to fall over.

Avarthon stood up, slightly flushed. "What took you so long to beat me?" he asked. "Why did you fight so weakly? I almost overpowered you."

Nilulmaien picked herself off of the ground and brushed a few leaves off of her uniform. "I fought the best I could," she replied, giving Avarthon a harsh glare. "You did overpower me. I wasn't quite willing to accept that, so I attacked."

"I do not understand," Avarthon said with a puzzled look on his face. "I shall have to speak to Lady Galadriel about this. Your Elven qualities are unusual."

Nilulmaien's eyes widened. "The Lady?" she repeated. "Why? There is no need to concern her with such small matters. I am sure that Lady Galadriel has important things to attend to, and it would be impolite for you to tell her of this." Avarthon smiled.

"I shall speak with her," he replied, "for a short time. After that, you may speak to her yourself. I'm sure you would find the meeting to be beneficial."

Nilulmaien was horrified and angry. For Avarthon to be so unkind to her was to be expected. But to force her to see the Lady, by herself? Nilulmaien had always tried to avoid meeting the Lady, and for all her life in Lorien (2034 years) she had managed to only glimpse her once from afar. Nilulmaien wasn't afraid of her, she was simply extremely nervous (for an Elf) to meet the Lady Galadriel.

Furious, Nilulmaien dropped her two swords and left the practice area quickly. She headed off to a small stream that she knew of in a more secluded area of Lothlorien. She pushed her sleeves up and dipped her hands in the cool water. Washing off the dirt that she had acquired during the sword-fight, she revealed a light mark on the inside of her left wrist. It was a small, crescent shaped scar that she had gotten as result of an injury as a child. She had gone out of Lorien, pulled by her curiousity to the sounds of a battle of men. At that time she had been around 1200, and looked as though she were 11 or 12 years old. She had wandered to the outskirts of the battle and was spotted by one of the soldiers. Apparently he was a greedy man, and took Nilulmaien before she could escape. He had planned to sell her as a slave, for he knew of many who would enjoy having an Elf for a slave or an Elf to torture. He had tied her down so that she couldn't escape. Nilulmaien managed to get free of her bonds by finding a dagger that the man had left behind. However, he was aware that she might escape and so when she tried to run he engaged her in battle. During the fight she had gotten the wound that had left behind the scar. She had run back to the forest, but her weariness had made her fall into darkness. She woke several days later in her home, healed but still bearing the scar. Also, it was after the battle that she had gotten the silver in her hair. No Elf-healer had ever been able to explain why.

Nilulmaien sighed and headed home, hoping to at least have time to change into different clothes before Avarthon made her go see the Lady. She arrived in her house and entered her room. She found that Avarthon had already been there. A light blue-gray dress with silver trim lay on her bed with a note attached. The note said that a celebration was being held to honor the Valar and that the Lady Galadriel would be there. Avarthon would be coming back soon to make sure that she was ready and to take her to the celebration. Nilulmaien was relieved. If it was a celebration, she would likely never have a chance to speak with the Lady because she would be occupied.

Nilulmaien began to prepare herself. She took a bath to wash away the grime from her practice session. Her long dark hair was brushed and she pulled half of it back in a braid. She left a few strands around her face and braided some thin sections of her silver-colored hair. When she put on the dress, the silver trim complemented her hair perfectly. The dress had a simple style. It had a low neckline, tight fitting sleeves that flared out past the elbow, and a tight bodice that blended into a graceful skirt. The silver trim was put in various places to accent the gray-blue hue of the fabric. She put her Lothlorien pendant on around her neck to complete the look.

Avarthon arrived and nodded approvingly. "You may not be skilled with bow or sword, but you certainly can manage to look like a lady," he remarked. He offered Nilulmaien his arm. "Shall we go?"

Nilulmaien took his arm. "Go to find answers, or go to find doom?" she asked sarcastically.

"It's entirely up to you, Nilulmaien," Avarthon replied.

A/N: ok, so what did you think? For a first chapter, I mean... I'm still trying to think of a title, so any suggestions would be welcome. Also, any criticism would be appreciated. This is my first time writing LotR stuff, and I don't know if I'm doing it right. I'll try to get the next chapter out soon, maybe in the next two days... Read and Review!!!! ~Morgaine of Ithil~

P.S.- HAPPY BIRTHDAY MICHIRU!!!!!!!!!!