AN: Hello everyone! Thank you for taking interest in my humble fic, I promise it will be worth it. A few things before you start reading, DON'T BE DISCOURAGED BY THE FIRST CHAPTER!!!!!!!! It may seem depressing at first but I promise that it has a happy ending. J The english translations for elvish phrases and words will be located at the end of the page. Oh, and I obviously don't own anything but the OC's. Happy reading!

Ithilwen stood looking upon the mighty silver shores of the Grey Havens. Deep in thought she stood, the foamy breeze blowing her golden hair and iridescent gown to and fro. It seemed only yesterday, and not the century that had truly passed, since she had gazed into the deep blue eyes of her beloved. Haldir, marchwarden of the Golden Wood, had passed into the shadows, it seemed, but a little while ago. Her face contorted in pain at the thought of her husband's passing. The overwhelming grief still coursed through her veins after all these years. It would never go away, she knew this, and yet found strength within herself to keep from fading. All for the sake of her child, now a grown elf with a little one of his own. Appropriately enough, a child's tinkling laughter interrupted her musings and brought a faint smile to her lips. Her grandson ran to her arms and she picked him up, much to his delight.

"Meldarion! I'm sorry naneth, he slipped away from me," her smiling son stated as he joined them and playfully ruffled the little one's hair.

"Oh, it is no bother. I always have time for my favorite grandson!" she tickled him a bit after that. Meldarion laughed generously and said in a loud voice, "But I'm your only grandson!" Ithilwen's laughter rang out onto the harbor, bringing a warmth to her eldest son's heart. She laughed so seldom nowadays.

"My dear, you would be my favorite were your father to have a hundred little ones!" Meldarion smiled widely, and smugly, and promptly began to wiggle in her arms. Ithilwen let him down, and watched fondly as he scampered away, looking for adventure.

"He is a wild one."

"Aye he is, takes after his father," Ithilwen smiled one last time and sighed, turning her gaze once more to the surf.

"Adar?" he asked, already knowing the answer. It was always about his father.

"Of course ion nîn," she replied wearily. Erynion draped his arm around his mother's painfully thin shoulders and sighed. "Take heart nana, for we shall soon be departing for Valinor," his eyes shone as he spoke, "there will your troubles be lightened, if not lifted altogether." She smiled slightly and let her head rest against her son's shoulder. She closed her eyes and thought, as she so often did in times of great sorrow, of the early days of Haldir's and her love. How handsome he was, with his fine armor! She had thought this the first time they met. And this despite his men aiming his drawn bow to her face. Smiling happily, she let the memories overtake her, washing over her body, healing her if only for a moment.

1,000 years earlier

"LEGOLAS GREENLEAF YOU ORC!" The outraged elleth chased after her dearest friend, murder on her mind. "How could you! You have ruined my new gown!!!" Legolas, prince of Mirkwood, scampered quite ungracefully up the nearest tree in a desperate attempt to escape Ithilwen's wrath.

"I didn't know it was new!" the elf protested in a reedy voice. "It was just a bit of spilled wine, no need to turn into Morgoth himself!" He ducked as Morwen chucked her shoe at him.

"You feather brained elf! I was going to wear that to Mithlond, to greet my father." Her grey eyes moistened and she turned from Legolas and slid down against the tree. "What am I to do now?" she said in a pitiful voice, and Legolas had no choice than to come down from the tree to comfort his friend.

"It's going to be alright, 'wen," Legolas smiled comfortingly, "You have lots of pretty gowns, and you look lovely in all of them." When he recieved no response he added, "I truly am sorry to have ruined your gown. Will you forgive me?" He looked so forlorn that the elleth had to laugh.

"There is nothing to forgive, Legolas. It was only a silly thing, I'm sure I'll find something suitable to wear."

"But weren't you having hysterics but a moment ago?" he asked utterly perplexed.

"Would you like me to keep being angry? Because I can accomodate you if you like." she said with a raised eyebrow. The prince's eyes widened and he shook his head fervently.

"I thought so," she smirked. "Now, would you mind walking with me to the library? I have been meaning to read of Luthien and Beren's tale once more."

"Sure I will, but don't expect me to join you once we're there. You know I take no delight in such things." Ithilwen snorted and rolled her eyes as he passed her her shoe.

"I had noticed," she said. "You practically live in the archery fields." Legolas shrugged. He loved archery, what was there to say? He stood up and offered her his arm, just like his father would have. She smiled brightly and took his arm as they lazily made their way to the caves of Thranduil's realm. For all of their young lives, they were only three-hundred, Legolas and Ithilwen had been the closest of friends. Legolas' temperament had always been that of the adventurous one, the curious one, and more often than not, the harebrained one. He was clueless when it came to ellyth, therefore Ithilwen was sometimes a mystery. She was his cousin, and dearest of friends, but sometimes when he saw her he just wanted to turn in the other direction and run, as fast as he could from her unpredictable mood swings.

...

Later that evening, Ithilwen found herself before Sanya, the dressmaker, discussing whether her gown could be saved.

"Perhaps if you removed the skirt altogether and replace it? Maybe with that nice golden fabric you showed me the other day," she suggested.

"I could. But it would be very plain. I have not the time for any embroidery." Sanya was as kind an elleth as they came. She was exceedingly tall and spindly, very slim with waist-length brown hair and a sunny smile. Ithilwen had come to see her as a very close friend through the years. She bit her cheek, deep in thought. Before she could come up with an answer she heard her name being called behind her. She turned to see her uncle, Thranduil, striding purposefully towards the maidens. Sanya quickly went into a deep curtsy, mumbleing 'my lord' under her breath. Ithilwen simply smiled at her mother's brother.

"My lord, how are you this fine evening?" The large blonde elf smiled widely, revealing two adorable dimples.

"Very well my dear, thank you for asking. I only wanted to see if you had your things ready and packed for the day tomorrow, your escort leaves for Mithlond at first light you know," his eyes twinkled with mirth. "Be sure that they do not leave without you, for I know you are fond of your sleep." Ithilwen laughed lightly at this.

"I shall be sure to heed your advice uncle, for Elbereth knows that if given the choice I would not wake until well into the afternoon."

"Will you take a walk with me my dear?" the noble elf's tone had turned serious. "Of course," she turned to her friend. "Shall I meet you in your room later?" Sanya nodded at her friend. The King nodded his goodbye at the elleth. Once they were out of hearing distance Thranduil began to speak.

"I want you to know that you are always welcome to return to Mirkwood," he said sincerely. "I loved your mother very much before she passed into the halls of Mandos, and were it only for her sake I would extend this invitation. But I also have come to love you well niece, and I would be proud if you were to choose to live in my realm."

"Oh uncle, that is very kind of you. I love you very much as well, and would love to come visit as often as I can. I will certainly consider living here in the future." The king was glad to hear this.

"Good, for heaven knows that Legolas will be needing that sensible head of yours to keep him out of trouble," she smiled sadly.

"I will miss him deeply uncle," he nodded seriously.

"And I am sure he will miss you keenly. Especially your advise when it comes to the maidens of the Woodland Realm."

"Indeed," but her spirits had not been lifted. What would she do without her friend? Thranduil sighed.

"I shall escort you back to your rooms now my dear, I fear there are some things that require my attention. Tomorrow we will say our goodbyes, perhaps by then you will be ready for the journey."

"Yes uncle." But her thoughts were not swayed, and she kept thinking how lonely life would be in the Grey Havens with only her grandfather, Círdan the Shipwright, for company. Wallowing in self pity, Ithilwen made her way to Sanya's room to say goodbye to yet another loved one.

Note on the Elvish used: New words introduced into the story will be in bold and I will translate them at the end of each chapter. Elvish words that I use frequently I will not write in bold but I will continue to translate them as always.

Translations:

Ithilwen- moon-maiden

Naneth-mother

Adar-father

ion nîn-my son

Nana-mom

elleth-female elf