Hello readers! Thank you so much for choosing to read my story. This is my first ever fanfic and I'm still finding my feet, so please bare with me! This chapter is pathetically short, but the others should be longer! I do hope you enjoy this , and please let me know! (But please be kind)

P.S I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT OR ANY OF TOLKIEN'S CHARACTERS. I ONLY OWN MY OWN CHARACTERS AND THE ALTERNATIONS I HAVE MADE.

Chapter one: Morning

I was awoken by a light knocking at the door to my chambers. After a restless night of nightmares, full of fire and pain, I'd finally fallen into a peaceful slumber just a few hours ago.

I sighed, reluctantly opening my eyes. No doubt it was one of my lady's maids come to dress me, like each morning for the past century or so.

Without any rush, I pushed back the soft covers of my large, oak bed and padded over to the mirror. I looked at my reflection. My hair, long and golden, fell in soft, gentle waves down to my waist. My skin was pale, almost translucent and had a light pink glow, as though a rose had kissed my cheeks. I looked at my infamous eyes. They eyes which everyone stared at. Dark sea blue, that shone like sapphires, fading into a burst of molten silver, meeting onyx pupils at the very centre.

Finally, my gaze lingered on my shoulder. To the unknowing eye the skin there appeared unmarked, just like the rest of my body. How I wished that could be true. I close my eyes and pushed away at the charm, cast so long ago, that concealed a secret. As I reopened my eyes, the scars of dragon fire where revealed. The angry, red scars flawed the skin of my left shoulder, neck, chest and upper arm. As the magic sprung back into place, the wounds were hidden once more.

I sneered. Beautiful. Yes, beautiful was what everyone believed I was. But what good is beauty in a cage? For I was trapped within the mystical walls of Mirkwood, hidden away from the world outside. I was constantly under the overprotective gaze of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, who had become a father to me since the death of my parents.

If only I hadn't been distracted on the battlefield that day! I would have noticed the fire-breather looming above. I would have gracefully pirouetted out of the path of its fiery breath before slaying the beast with a single, deadly slash of my daggers. Most importantly, Thranduil would still have faith in my ability to fight and protect myself.

My dark thoughts were interrupted by more knocking upon the mahogany door to my rooms.

"My Lady? Lady Eryngwen, are you there?"

I sighed heavily once more, before going over to the door.

"My Lady…" The servant's calls were cut short by my opening of the door.

"Yes! I'm here." I said, rubbing the tiredness from my eyes. I felt guilty for being irritable towards my lady's maid. It wasn't her fault I felt so trapped. She was just doing her duty.

The lady's maid tutted at me. "You did not sleep well again my lady. It isn't good for your complexion. You must look your best at all times, if you are to make a good marriage."

My lips curled into a slight sneer. Marriage? What would I want with a marriage? To be tied for all of eternity to a stuck up elf from another Kingdom whom I did not love. No marriage was not for me.

"I had a nightmare." I muttered to her.

The conversation died then, as I was forcefully pushed over to my vanity table. My hair was brushed and pulled into a complex waterfall braid and a touch of lipstick and mascara was applied gently to my face. As was normal for this point in the morning, I assured my helper that I was perfectly capable of getting myself ready. She would not hear of such a thing.

"Get yourself ready? No indeed! You are the ward of King Thranduil. You are royalty in this Kingdom. You must have a lady's maid!" She lectured.

I tried in vain to push away the strangling feeling of being imprisoned.