Chapter 1
The Forest

I ran as fast as I could, all the while glancing over my shoulder. I could still hear them. They were too close. They had picked up my trail.

I saw them coming through the trees. Any of my race could have easily outrun the orcs, but I was weak. Elves can usually survive on little. Little food, little sleep . . . but they can't survive on none. That was what I had . . . none, nothing.

My legs failed me. I tripped on the root of a great tree. I could not get up fast enough. One of the ugliest orcs came upon me.

"Snaga." (Slave) His voice spat at me. He had a sneer on his face. The orc thought he had won. He thought he had broken me.

"Im lá mól!" (I'm not a slave) I said in a low, threatening voice.

"Stop with yer elf speak, slave, or Sauron will have yer head when we are through."

"He might if he were little more than a bodiless spirit." I countered. I was not afraid of them anymore. I didn't fear death. I preferred it over spending anymore time in the hands of orcs.

He stomped on my stomach, making the bruises worse. It knocked my breath away, and for a moment, I was undefended. They took the opportunity, and before I knew what was happening, my hands were again tied behind my back.

~~~~~
They made me walk. We were three days south of where I had been recaptured.

I didn't know where we were, just by a forest. I knew we were going to Mordor. I didn't know anything about it, just that it was surely evil.

I felt as if I should know the forest whose edges we were skimming, but I did not. Something in it was calling to me though. It felt familiar. The orcs were afraid of it, or something in it. Of that I was sure.

I did not know very much of Middle Earth, almost nothing really. I grew up in the lands far north, where even the summers were cold. I worked as a slave; I had no choice.

My mother told me little about how we got there. I knew we were kidnapped from our home when I was three, young by the standards of any race in Middle Earth. We were brought there, to the north. When we arrived, there were already others. Elves, that is. Some had been there for over a thousand years.

When the night was quiet, and the master wasn't there, they would teach us our languages. My mother taught Tawarthion and I Sindarin, and Authion taught us Quenya. Amil (mother) had tried to forbid him. She said that it had been outlawed long ago. Authion told Amil that it did not matter. We needed to be able to communicate, and he had learned Quenya as a child.

~~~~~
"We are stopping here." The lead orc bellowed. We called him Ulca (evil).

"But, we are still very far north. This is not a good place to stop so close to the forest." One orc reasoned.

"I said we are stopping here!" Ulca said.

~~~~~
It was late, but I didn't care. I stayed awake. My hands had been untied, but orcs surrounded me. I knew I could not escape, so I simply looked at the stars. They were so similar to the far north's, but slightly different. The difference gave me hope. It was a new feeling. I hadn't had real hope before.

I heard the footfalls long before they did. I didn't know whose the footfalls were. They were light, but many. I guessed elves, but I did not know. The few elves I knew had weighed heavily on their feet. One is not light when weighed down by grief.

Yes, I figured it had to be elves. Elves that had not seen the fear and heart ache I had.

I said nothing to the orcs.

I heard them place arrows on their bows. I laid as close to the ground as possible.

I heard the arrows whistle threw the air. I closed my eyes.

I heard the screech of Ulca as he fell to the ground. I, for the first time in a month, slept.

When I woke, I smelt orc-blood, but I felt a warm fire nearby. A man came toward me. He was very rugged. Had I been wrong? Were their no elves?

Panicking, I reverted back to the language I knew best, Quenya. "Oantë! Oantë!" (Go away! Go away!)

The man stared at me shocked. Suddenly, two elves stood on the other side of the fire. One had dark hair and eyes, while the other had eyes of blue and hair the color of flour.

"Step back from her." He ordered firmly in the common tongue. The man obeyed. The elf with blue eyes approached me. He lifted me roughly by the shoulder. His grasp was firm, and I was even more afraid. "You are Sauron's. You speak a language long forbidden."

"Lá, lá!" (No, no) I denied. I couldn't get back to Sindarin. The words wouldn't come to me.

"Aranel en yrch." (Princess of Orcs) His blue eyes were hard.

"Lá..." Before I could say more, my hands were tied firmly behind my back again.

"Strider, start packing up camp. We need to return to my kingdom at once. Caunion, you are to guard her."

"Legolas . . ." Strider started to ask.

"Quenya. She speaks Quenya." Legolas answered. We need to return immediately.

~~~~~
Within the hour, we were moving again. "Please . . ." I muttered. The blue-eyed elf was guarding me now. I learned his name was Legolas. "Please . . ." I begged barely audible even to myself.

"So, you speak the common tongue as well." He replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You don't understand . . ." I started, but we were intercepted by guards.

"Prince Legolas." One addressed.

"Wake my father. Now." Legolas ordered.