The year is 2013, 24 January 2013. I am currently in the mountains, in a place once named Rivendell. I am hiding, hiding from the rider clothed in black.
My name is Elowyn, Elowyn Arwen Josephs. I am thirteen years old, and human. I lived in a place called Ayrshire, on the outskirts of a town called Ayr, but of course that all changed. The night I discovered my heritage.
The night started out like any other, a harsh winter's wind battering the trees, the tiny flakes of snow, just visible in the small beams of light that had so cleverly escaped the the shutter's barricade. The house was chilly, the central heating unable to vanquish the brutal force of winter. I had been sitting on the sofa, wrapped up in a thick woolen blanket, my fingers tracing its embroidered dragon patterns, thinking how wonderful it would be to be able to fly, to soar among the clouds without a care in the world. The ping of the microwave alerted me my hot chocolate was ready, leaving the blanket on the sofa, I walked into the kitchen.
The doorbell rang, and hot chocolate in one hand, I answered it, seeing the shadowy figure of my mother, standing in the porch, just out of reach of the snow's icy fingers. She looked cold and out of breath, as if she had just run a long way, she kept glancing over her shoulder, muttering things that didn't really make any sense.
Things like "She's too young..." Or "They all died long ago, what could she do..." And "I couldn't let her..." The last one made me shudder. "He said I had no choice."
When I asked her what was wrong, she replied again with anweres that made no sense.
"Nothing Dear, nothing that Gandalf can't handle, Sauron was stopped long ago, Aragorn and Arwen made sure he would never rise again."
Gandalf, Sauron, Aragorn? Arwen was my middle name, had I been named after someone? I had just thought it was an unusual name my mother and father liked, but maybe not.
My mother looked at me, a slightly horrified expression on her face, as if she was regretting what she had just said.
"Nothing to worry about Elly." She had told me reasuringly.
But I had a feeling she was just saying that to comfort herself, more than me.
"Who is Arwen?" I asked her.
"Arwen? That's your middle name."
"But you said Arwen, you said Arwen and Argon stopped some Sauron person from rising again, who are they mum?"
"They are no-one, no-one important."
I heard footsteps coming up the pathway, the already lying snow crunching noisily.
"No, not now, she's not ready, you can't really expect her to, can you?" My mother muttered to no-one in particular. She put her head in her hands.
"Elowyn Arwen Josephs, I think its time I told you the truth."