As stated in my other stories, I am an ESL teacher, a historian, and an avid reader. Nothing that is familiar to anyone is owned by me. That is owned either by J.R.R. Tolkien or Christine Feehan. I am simply playing out an idea in my head. Enjoy.

Prologue

The night was still, quiet, a soft calm spreading across the mountains and forests. The silence was split suddenly as a loud roar tore the heavens apart, thunder crashed over the mountains, lightening ripped the sky open and rain poured down in torrents. Animals ran through the forest, diving for cover whilst the humans cowered in their homes, waiting for the sudden storm to pass. Only a few knew this was not a natural occurrence. The rage of someone had caused this storm, and they trembled at what may have happened. Deep within the mountains, in a cave so far underground the light came from illuminated crystals set into the walls, a temper was raging, almost out of control.

"What do you mean she is gone? She should not even be awake right now, yet you're saying she has vanished?"

Gregori Daratrazanoff did not flinch at the bark of his Prince, who was currently wearing a new path into the floor of the cave. "I mean just that Mikhail. She was here on the last rising; Francesca and I performed another healing session. Before she left Francesca mentioned to me the possibility of asking Skylar to come and have a look at her, possibly with Tatijana and Branislavia, and also Ivory Malinov. She was resting deep within the ground, under our strongest safeguards. I came back this rising to see if the session yesterday had made any progress and she was gone." Gregori swept a hand through his thick hair, sighing heavily. "I would have known if she had awakened Mikhail, or been taken. So would you, we have both taken her blood."

The look Mikhail sent his second-in-command and best friend was chilling, but was also full of weariness. The events of the last few months had taken a toll on all of them, but as the leader of their people, Mikhail took the weight of every failure, set back that affected their species. Tasked with trying to keep his people from falling into extinction, along with the near impossible task of creating a lasting bridge between his people and the Lycan community, Mikhail could only see this latest event as yet another disaster to befall their lives.

"Is it possible that she had awakened? Could she have been taken against her will?"

Gregori's response was to shake his head wearily. "I do not think she is awake Mikhail. But there is no other scent here than ours and Francesca. No one else has been in this cave. The safeguards surrounding this place could only have been lifted by you or I, and the ground has not been disturbed."

"So Lylita has what, melted into the earth?"

Gregori shrugged, sighing softly as he looked around the cave then back to his old friend. "I do not know Mikhail, I just do not know."

Chapter One

The soft breeze was the only sound echoing across the grassy plains, along with the occasional birdsong. Among the random rocks and small gathering of trees was a still form, loosely curled up and clearly unconscious; the only indication of life was the chest rising and falling with breath. The clothes covering the body were ripped and worn, the skin beneath them showing evidence of a fight, scratches both shallow and deep and bruises marring legs, arms and torso. A slight gust of wind brushed strands of tangled black hair away from the face to reveal the features of a young woman, stunning in spite of the deep wound to her temple, the bruised eye and cheek and a heavily split lip.

Unconcerned with the blood on the woman's clothes and body, a thrush eventually settled near her unmoving form, pecking away at the grass for insects. The sun burst out suddenly from behind a thick cloud, hitting the woman with its full strength. A cough echoed from the body, causing the bird to fly away with a screech of both surprise and indignation. The woman's chest rose and fell in awkward movements, the gasps for air both strained and weak. Her eyes opened a fraction, fever filled and in pain, wandering restlessly trying to take in the surroundings through a hazy glaze. The only thought flitting through her head was that she had no idea where she was, her eyes fluttered shut again as she lost the fight to stay conscious.

"Why did I ever agree to come on this wretched trip" the elf muttered to himself as he strode away from the campfire. "The pranks back home are bad enough but out here? Are they even thinking?" Glorfindel sighed heavily as he paced out his frustration, annoyed yet again at being caught in one of the pranks set by the twins. It had been harmless enough, most of them usually were, but despite them being so close to the borders of the Greenwood it didn't mean much in terms of their safety. Indeed if anything, they stood a greater chance of being attacked by something in the forest.

The soft noise of a twig breaking brought the elf out of his whispered mutterings; turning his head he saw his old friend approaching behind him. Glorfindel inclined his head slightly and greeted him in a soft voice "Hir nin Elrond."

"What has managed to upset you so this time, Mellon-nin?" was the reply given by the elven-lord. His eyes, the only indication that he was far older than his youthful face suggested, twinkled with amusement in the starlight.

"You know full well what, and just who, has put me in this state" came the curt reply. Elrond fought to stifle a laugh as he saw how tense Glorfindel held himself, well aware the Balrog-Slayer was trying to keep a handle on his emotions. He knew his old friend was ever cautious about anything that could be lurking outside the ring of their guarded camp.

"I would apologise for my sons but, really Glorfindel, it has been a long journey, and this is the first prank they have pulled in over three weeks. Just be thankful it was not anything to do with the King, then we really could have been in trouble."

Glorfindel sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead before turning to fully look at Elrond. "I know Mellon, I am not angry at them really."

Elrond's right eyebrow twitched slightly. "There is something else is there not? Something besides those herbs has disturbed you."

Glorfindel nodded slightly. "I do not know what it is, but I have been uneasy ever since we stopped to make camp. It is like..." He trailed off for a moment before continuing, his soft voice lowering even more "Almost like something, or someone, is watching us."

He turned to look back to the forest they could faintly see in the distance, just as Elrond's own gaze swept their surroundings. "I know of what you speak, I can feel it also." At his friend's arched eyebrow he smiled ever so slightly "I have had this feeling since we set out this morning, but did not feel the need to alert the guard or the others. I do not feel that this ...presence...is a threat to us."

Glorfindel could only shake his head in exasperation. "Must you always be so cryptic Mellon?" A soft laugh was his only reply and he could feel his own lips twitch despite his good intentions. "We should probably head back to the camp."

"Already plotting your revenge against them are we?"

"What else do I have to do? You already seem to have everything else under control." Glorfindel grinned openly at his friend.

Elrond laughed aloud. "Stay out here for a little longer. They already know they annoyed you greatly. Let them stew for a little while longer."

Glorfindel arched an eyebrow. "What is this I hear? The mighty Lord Elrond has a devious streak in them?"

Elrond shrugged slightly. "Well they had to get it from somewhere. Who else if not me?" Both of the elves laughed at that.

The sun had long since set when the woman began to regain a sense of consciousness. A soft, broken moan escaped her lips as her eyes opened, lashes sweeping down to veil her eyes against the bright light of the moon. The increasing pulsing inside her head kept her from passing out again so she opened her eyes a little more. With another moan she pushed herself up slightly, her arms trembling beneath her. The landscape swung around her nauseatingly and she bit down on her lower lip, wincing as she opened the cut again, causing it to weep blood.

By the time her wits were about her again she became aware of her body shaking, because of pain or cold she did not know. Lifting her head slowly, her eyes wandered around restlessly, catching a glimpse of something flicker in the darkness. She strained her eyes trying to see further but the haze clouding her vision only grew in intensity, as did the irregular pounding in her head. Struggling to her feet, the woman winced against a shaft of pain that sliced through her, and with a staggering step forward she started to walk, stumbling every now and then as she moved slowly towards the steadily growing light, flickering every now and then as if buffeted by the wind.

It was a while longer before Elrond and Glorfindel decided to turn back towards the campfire. A muffled noise from behind them sent them both spinning around, Glorfindel ever vigilant placing himself just in front of Elrond as their sharp elven eyes tried to pierce through the dark shadows of the night.

"Maybe just one of the guards?" Elrond murmured, eyes shifting slightly to his right to look at Glorfindel. His friend twitched his head slightly, indicating he did not agree. "Not this far from the camp; the patrol area this night is much smaller. The Greenwood is too close to allow for a larger one." Without a further word both drew their swords. Neither of their blades was bathed in the pale blue glow they would emit were they in the vicinity of orcs or goblins. That however did not rule out the possibility of danger; in these increasingly unsettled times anything could be wandering the wilds.

It was Glorfindel who first spotted a sign of movement, his sword twitching to the left to point at the darker shadow moving slowly towards them. At Elrond's nod the pair crept forward, light treads making no sound unless they so wished it. As they came closer the figure seemed to stop before sinking to the ground. Glorfindel moved forward slightly more, just as the moon, previously hidden behind a thick cloud, emerged suddenly and bathed everything in a soft, silvery glow. A soft whisper of breath stopped him in his movement before he gasped. "Mellon, a girl."

Back at the camp the twin sons of Elrond were being thoroughly chastised by Lindir, who had taken it upon himself to defend the Balrog-Slayer. Despite trying to remain stern and aloof, Lindir could not fight the smile that kept breaking out across his face every time he remembered Glorfindel's reaction. Elladan looked over at his younger twin Elrohir and couldn't help but laugh at the smirk covering his face. In mock exasperation Lindir threw his hands in the air before shaking his head and moving away from them, just as howls of laughter erupted from the twins.

Elrophir recovered first, rubbing a hand across his mouth. "Do you think we should go after Glorfindel?"

Elladan shook his head, still laughing softly. "What, and have our heads banged together by him? I for one do not want to be waking up in the morn with a splitting headache."

Elrohir grinned "At least there was no honey and feathers involved this time. Only wounded pride." The two of them looked at one another before laughing again. Their younger brother Estel merely rolled his eyes. The two of them would never learn, not that he really wanted them to. The twins could always be counted upon for a laugh. It was as the three of them settled down on their bedrolls, the twins bantering about who would be their next target that a commotion arose from the other side of the camp. The three rose instantly, weapons drawn without a word.

"Adar?" Elladan's confused voice carried over the din as Elrond came rushing back into the circle of light around the fire "What is going on?"

"I need this fire built up, and water heated, now" Elrond's voice was stern and authoritive, his sons exchanged glances as they all heard the underlying tone of worry. Glorfindel emerged from the night just behind him, something cradled in his arms. Estel sheathed his sword and started to build up the fire whilst Elrohir started to heat up water as their father demanded. Elladan made his way over to the two older elves, both now kneeling on the ground. As he moved closer Elladan was able to spot a glint of pale skin and realised what Glorfindel was cradling in his arms. "What...who in all of Arda is that?"

"We do not know." Glorfindel's voice was tight with worry. "She came upon us just outside the edge of the patrol area, and collapsed before we even knew it was a girl."

Elrond was running his hands lightly over the girl's face, his countless years of experience as a healer ready to aid him. "She is frozen; we need to warm her up as quickly as we can. Move her as close to the fire as you can get her." Turning to his son he spoke quickly "I need my healing satchel from my horse, then gather as many blankets as you can, I fear we will need all we can lay our hands on." Elladan nodded and ran over to where their horses were gathered for the night. Meanwhile Glorfindel knelt down once again, this time next to the now larger fire and gently lay the girl on the blanket Elrohir had spread out for him. Elrond wasted no time in starting his examination of the still body. Cuts and scrapes marred her bare arms; a large ugly cut ran along her upper right arm whilst another stood out starkly against a pale cheek. Another deep gash cut across her temple, one of her eyes sported a heavy bruise and her lip had been split open at some point, if the dried blood adorning it was anything to go by. What worried him however was the deep red stain that coated the front of the white shirt she wore, not that he was paying much attention right now to her choice of clothing. Taking a hold of the small dagger Elladan passed him, Elrond quickly cut away her shirt, gasping softly at what he found underneath. Bruises covered her upper body, some faded to yellow and green whilst others stood out in deep blues and blacks. It looked as though she had been stamped on, or beaten, repeatedly. The blood was coming from a wound to her abdomen, deep enough that he could see torn muscle, even though the light from the flickering fire wasn't the best.

Swallowing deeply he got to work, aware that one of his sons was passing him the tools he needed whilst another kept up a steady supply of hot water. Glancing up briefly from the girls wound he saw Glorfindel had her head cradled in his lap and dabbed gently at the wounds to her face whilst Estel tended to the wound on her arm. It was a good while later that Elrond straightened up, sighing softly as his back ached from the position he had been in. He was surprised to find that the sky was lighter than it had previously been, dawn was not far off and none of them had rested at all. He washed the blood off his hands watching as Elladan bound soft cloths to the girls abdomen, careful not to press down too hard on the injury or on the herbal paste that had spread there to promote healing. He turned tired eyes to his old friend, still cradling her head. At a nod Glorfindel eased himself up off the ground, laying the girl down flat and they heaped blankets over her still form in an attempt to bring her body temperature up. Despite having been next to the roaring fire whilst they tended to her, the girl's body was still like ice, something that Elrond found worrying.

"What in Eru's name could have happened to her? And where did she come from?" Glorfindel asked quietly, watching the twins and Estel bank up the fire and mix together a healing tea for the girl. Elrond shook his head. "I do not know Mellon, but she certainly looks as if she was caught in the middle of something horrific."

Glorfindel nodded "I noticed something odd..." He grinned slightly at the look his friend shot him, the whole situation was more than just odd "The wounds to her face and arms; they looked like they had already been treated. But...well, I do not know how to explain it. It looked like soil had been pushed into the wounds."

Whatever Elrond had been expecting, it was not that. "Soil? Are you sure?"

"As sure as daylight Mellon."

He looked back down at the unconscious form, watching as Elladan sank down to the ground to lift her head a little; his brother tilted a bowl of the herbal tea against her lips and stroked her torn throat gently to encourage her to swallowing the healing liquid. Sighing softly Elrond muttered to himself. "What in all of Arda have we stumbled into this time?"