Title: Black Swan; Shadow on the Water
Hello, I am Laivinë. I've always wanted to write my own Haldir/OC fanfic and I wanted to write this story.so I decided to kill two birds with one stone. Enjoy!!
Disclaimer: I don't own it, some day I might, but I highly doubt that, all characters and places belong to Tolkien, bar the few characters and places I manage to come up with ie. Missalah. *Cries* I wish I owned it but I don't so please don't sue me because I have no money.I want some money!
Chapter One: Nothing But a Memory
Missalah sat beneath a large oak tree in the forest of Mirkwood. She knew Xander watched her, though he did not know that she knew he was there. He followed her, watched over her and shadowed her every footstep anytime she left the underground caves of the Mirkwood elves and ventured out into the forest. According to a reliable source, he claimed that he feared for her safety, and Missalah did not doubt this. If he had any ulterior motive, he did not act upon it. Missalah did not mind anyway, his presence was quite welcome for it made her feel safe.
She was called the Black Swan. Beautiful, graceful and delicate. Fragile as a shadow, as strong as the darkness of a moonless night. She was stunning, there was no other way to describe her; her hair was long, wavy and blacker than the blackest night, he skin pale, almost white and her eyes a deep blue, almost grey. She was tall, slender and moved with a delicate grace that was seemed almost not of this world, her fluid movements made her look as though she was gliding across the ground.
And yet, the most amazing thing about her was that she could see none of this in herself. She lacked self-confidence; she didn't see the good inside and this cast a shadow over her, held her down, held her back. All her life she had been told by the most influential person in her life, her father, that she was ugly, a hideous creature whom no man could ever love. And she grew up believing this, always cursing herself and being cursed because of what she looked like. Her self-esteem had been shattered, and it would take a miracle to repair it. Xander was hoping to be that miracle.
Xander lay draped across a tree branch, watching Missalah pick wild flowers down by the Forest River. She was wearing a white summer dress that left her slender arms bare from the shoulder down. He smiled, she was beautiful, and she would soon be his! He loved her, he had no doubt in his mind that he didn't. This was not some childish conquest, it was the real thing, but he could never muster up the courage to talk to her. Even saying a simple hello to her was hard for him to do. So instead he watched her, followed her every move, trying to decipher every expression, every movement, the hidden meaning behind every word. He admired her from afar, watched her from the shadows. She didn't even know that he existed.
"I asked for this almost an hour ago!" Conourenë, Missalah's father, bellowed, snatching the freshly mended tunic from his daughter's shaking hand
"I am ever so sorry father, the rip was large and the material worn thin, I had to sew a new piece underneath the original fabric. I promise I will be faster next time father, please I beg your forgiveness." Her voice was weak, broken.
"There's always an excuse! Well I don't want to hear it Missalah, I'm sick of the sight of you, get out!" he turned his attention away from her without a word of thanks for the mended garment. Missalah left the room before he found something else to yell at her about.
Sometimes she wished that he would hit her rather than insult her, whoever said sticks and stones may break one's bones, but names will never hurt thee, was grossly misinformed. The words of her father cut deeper, and left more terrible scars than any weapon ever could.
"I am so sorry father, but how can I be what you want me to be when all that it is you want is the opposite of what I am. I cannot help being me." Her father never heard her whispered words.
Many times she had considered ending her torment, putting a stop to all the pain she was forced to endure, day in, day out. But somehow she could never bring herself to do it, her father had convinced her long ago that this was what she deserved, this was the only life she could live and that life was sacred and that taking her own would be the most selfish thing she could ever consider doing. If she attempted to and failed, she was sure that her father would make her life a living hell, making the last 300 years seem like a fairytale. But whenever she would come close to ending her life, something, call it divine intervention, would make her stop, a overwhelming sense that something good was waiting just around the corner. And so she continued to live a life she hated, hoping against hope that one day her luck would change.
King Thranduil held a feast every hundred years, it main purpose was socialisation, a chance for friends to be made, alliances formed, and maybe even a chance for romance. Missalah had always avoided all social functions, but Thranduil insisted that every elf in Mirkwood attend. She tried to get out of it once, but her father forced her to go, saying that they had to keep up appearances. And so she had gone, and it had been one of the worst nights of her entire life. And now she had to go again.
Her father would not let her speak with anyone, she was forced to sit in a corner while he went out and mingled with the crowd, but never going far enough to lose sight of her. And if anyone were to approach her he would go over and inform them that she was deaf and dumb and that they should not bother. Eventually everybody learnt to stay away from her. She was alone. This was the cruellest thing her father could ever do to her, leaving her to keep her own company when she despised herself.
Ok, this is my first go at a fanfic, constructive criticism appreciated. I know its short, but it is sort of like a prologue, and I will only continue with the story if I get some support for it. I don't want to bother if nobody is going to read it. Thank you, love you
Laivinë
Hello, I am Laivinë. I've always wanted to write my own Haldir/OC fanfic and I wanted to write this story.so I decided to kill two birds with one stone. Enjoy!!
Disclaimer: I don't own it, some day I might, but I highly doubt that, all characters and places belong to Tolkien, bar the few characters and places I manage to come up with ie. Missalah. *Cries* I wish I owned it but I don't so please don't sue me because I have no money.I want some money!
Chapter One: Nothing But a Memory
Missalah sat beneath a large oak tree in the forest of Mirkwood. She knew Xander watched her, though he did not know that she knew he was there. He followed her, watched over her and shadowed her every footstep anytime she left the underground caves of the Mirkwood elves and ventured out into the forest. According to a reliable source, he claimed that he feared for her safety, and Missalah did not doubt this. If he had any ulterior motive, he did not act upon it. Missalah did not mind anyway, his presence was quite welcome for it made her feel safe.
She was called the Black Swan. Beautiful, graceful and delicate. Fragile as a shadow, as strong as the darkness of a moonless night. She was stunning, there was no other way to describe her; her hair was long, wavy and blacker than the blackest night, he skin pale, almost white and her eyes a deep blue, almost grey. She was tall, slender and moved with a delicate grace that was seemed almost not of this world, her fluid movements made her look as though she was gliding across the ground.
And yet, the most amazing thing about her was that she could see none of this in herself. She lacked self-confidence; she didn't see the good inside and this cast a shadow over her, held her down, held her back. All her life she had been told by the most influential person in her life, her father, that she was ugly, a hideous creature whom no man could ever love. And she grew up believing this, always cursing herself and being cursed because of what she looked like. Her self-esteem had been shattered, and it would take a miracle to repair it. Xander was hoping to be that miracle.
Xander lay draped across a tree branch, watching Missalah pick wild flowers down by the Forest River. She was wearing a white summer dress that left her slender arms bare from the shoulder down. He smiled, she was beautiful, and she would soon be his! He loved her, he had no doubt in his mind that he didn't. This was not some childish conquest, it was the real thing, but he could never muster up the courage to talk to her. Even saying a simple hello to her was hard for him to do. So instead he watched her, followed her every move, trying to decipher every expression, every movement, the hidden meaning behind every word. He admired her from afar, watched her from the shadows. She didn't even know that he existed.
"I asked for this almost an hour ago!" Conourenë, Missalah's father, bellowed, snatching the freshly mended tunic from his daughter's shaking hand
"I am ever so sorry father, the rip was large and the material worn thin, I had to sew a new piece underneath the original fabric. I promise I will be faster next time father, please I beg your forgiveness." Her voice was weak, broken.
"There's always an excuse! Well I don't want to hear it Missalah, I'm sick of the sight of you, get out!" he turned his attention away from her without a word of thanks for the mended garment. Missalah left the room before he found something else to yell at her about.
Sometimes she wished that he would hit her rather than insult her, whoever said sticks and stones may break one's bones, but names will never hurt thee, was grossly misinformed. The words of her father cut deeper, and left more terrible scars than any weapon ever could.
"I am so sorry father, but how can I be what you want me to be when all that it is you want is the opposite of what I am. I cannot help being me." Her father never heard her whispered words.
Many times she had considered ending her torment, putting a stop to all the pain she was forced to endure, day in, day out. But somehow she could never bring herself to do it, her father had convinced her long ago that this was what she deserved, this was the only life she could live and that life was sacred and that taking her own would be the most selfish thing she could ever consider doing. If she attempted to and failed, she was sure that her father would make her life a living hell, making the last 300 years seem like a fairytale. But whenever she would come close to ending her life, something, call it divine intervention, would make her stop, a overwhelming sense that something good was waiting just around the corner. And so she continued to live a life she hated, hoping against hope that one day her luck would change.
King Thranduil held a feast every hundred years, it main purpose was socialisation, a chance for friends to be made, alliances formed, and maybe even a chance for romance. Missalah had always avoided all social functions, but Thranduil insisted that every elf in Mirkwood attend. She tried to get out of it once, but her father forced her to go, saying that they had to keep up appearances. And so she had gone, and it had been one of the worst nights of her entire life. And now she had to go again.
Her father would not let her speak with anyone, she was forced to sit in a corner while he went out and mingled with the crowd, but never going far enough to lose sight of her. And if anyone were to approach her he would go over and inform them that she was deaf and dumb and that they should not bother. Eventually everybody learnt to stay away from her. She was alone. This was the cruellest thing her father could ever do to her, leaving her to keep her own company when she despised herself.
Ok, this is my first go at a fanfic, constructive criticism appreciated. I know its short, but it is sort of like a prologue, and I will only continue with the story if I get some support for it. I don't want to bother if nobody is going to read it. Thank you, love you
Laivinë