Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, nor do I own Lord of the Rings (though I wish I did, alas,) but I do own this story and anything you don't recognize so PAWS OFF! Thankies.

A/N: Thankies go to DanCrazed, (I now know who my true readers are) and to those of you who read but did not review(I know you are out there!) my pink polar bears are hunting you so I suggest you hide. I should probably stop talking by now, the voices in my head are telling me that you have probably had enough of me and want to read. Well, their wish is my command. On with the story!

Chapter 1

That is really quite annoying.

She walked sedately down the main road, pack slung over her shoulder carelessly as she had not yet been able to find an inn that would accept her money. Still, it had been valuable practice of this new language that she had not quite grasped. At least it was similar enough to the human tongue she knew for her to understand and be understood by others.

Weylven sidestepped one of the pirates that had attacked the port on a ship called The Black Pearl. What a strange name. Pearls were white, not black.

People ran past, some screaming, others brandishing all manor of weapons from swords to kitchen knives. So far no one had tried to attack her, but it would happen eventually. She would stay on her guard.

As she continued to walk, she watched with some curiosity if not amusement. These humans fought like barbarians, or orcs, there was no way they hand nay contact with either Gondor or Rohan. The styles of fighting were completely different. Perhaps they were wild men.

Suddenly a knife whistled past her, inches away from her head. Only her keen hearing and quick reflexes had saved her. Now that was quite annoying. Her eyes locked on the pirate, burning with anger. Fluidly, she drew her bow and nocked a single gray-fletched arrow. The shaft barely touched the string before flying into the pirate's chest. The man merely looked down at the shaft protruding from his chest and back at her. He smiled. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. Calmly, she replaced her bow on her back and drew her sword. Good steel would accomplish what her arrow had failed. After only moments her sword slid home and she yanked both blade and arrow out of the corpse before plunging deeper into the chaos. After several more quick yet depressingly easy duels, Weylven found herself facing off the same pirate who had drawn her into battle. A exasperated sigh escaped her. Eru, even Uri'kai died the first time and stayed dead! Not even bothering with her bow, the elf lazily loped off the head of her opponent, killing him once again. That should do it.

She fought for a while more but began to grow bored. She should have been protecting Frodo an killing orcs, not an slaughtering an endless supply of pirates in some barbarian port town! The anger of being excluded from the Fellowship simply because she was female rose to the surface and boiled sluggishly through her veins. I. Should. Be. In. The. Fellowship. Weylven thought, punctuating each word with a thrust or stab to a faceless opponent. Finally her anger cooled and she walked away from the fighting towards the shore, determined to paddle her boat back to Rivendell and catch up with the Fellowship no matter what it took.

Serenely, she wiped her bloodied sword on a fallen man's ragged shirt and sheathed the weapon. With no sign of fatigue or of the fighting or killing she had done, she lithely weaved through those still doing battle and into the dark night.

It took her longer to reach the shore than she had expected. The sun was already high in the horizon and the day was bright as she walked down the dock to her boat. She was dismayed to find it gone, then anger replaced confusion. She would kill the man who had stolen her boat! Impatiently, Weylven scanned the waters with her acute elf-sight. No gray leaf-like paddle boat in sight. She turned her attention to the shore and on the white sand several hundred meters down the beach she saw two men struggling to get it into the water. She would kill them! She fumed.

Swiftly she ran, but just as quietly as the wind, not waiting for people to move barrels out of the way she simply jumped them. Several dock workers stared as she passed, but none tried to follow or stop her. Soon she was on the beach only several strides from the theives. They did not seem to notice her, so absorbed were they in their battle with her boat.

She rolled her eyes. Men were so oblivious sometimes. Her sword slid from its sheath without a sound and she placed it warningly against the dark haired man's throat. He was the one who seemed most in charge. He stiffened at the cold steel next to the skin of his neck and he turned slowly. She was surprised to see that this was the man who had saved the woman and called himself Jack Sparrow, but she did not lower her weapon.

"You know that is really quite annoying, Jack of Sparrow," She growled. "I would appreciate it if you did not steal my boat, I have need of it."

"Commandeer." was all he said.

"Pardon?"

"Commandeer, luv, the correct word is commandeer."

"It is usually unwise to correct the one who has a sword at your neck." Weylven remarked dryly, putting slight pressure on the blade, "And my name is not 'luv'."

"What is your name then?" The brown haired boy asked, clearly trying to cover the way his hand was drifting to his sword hilt.

"Do not even think to draw your sword boy," she advised him, satisfied to see him stiffen at the term boy used on him. For humans he was clearly a man, but even the oldest man was a child compared to her.

"I am no 'boy'. My name is Will Turner."

"Compared to me, Will of Turner, you are."

She smiled as she watched him puzzle this out, but soon she grew bored and turned her attention back to Jack. "Why is it you want my boat?" She demanded.

"We were going to return it," immediately she knew this was a lie, but she let him continue, "And we wanted it to get to," he pointed with his finger, but Weylven did not turn to look, "that ship."

"I still do not see what you need with my boat."
"Let us borrow it, mate, and you will see."

Weylven considered this for a moment then decided. After all, what harm could it do.

"Very well, Jack of Sparrow, but only if I accompany you."

She watched as the man considered this, not lowering her sword to remind him of what would happen if he attempted to take the boat and leave her behind. He smiled at her.

"Welcome to the crew, mate."

Weylven smiled back as she lowered and sheathed her sword. Nodding her head in assent, Weylven lifted the boat easily and set it in the water. "Now, show me what it is you intend."

A/N: I know its short, and I am sorry :Hangs head sadly: but I am the author and there is nothing you can do about it Mwahahaha! Pleeeeeeaassse review! It will make the voices in my head leave me alone long enough to post the next chapter. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but flames will be thrown to my pink polar bears and torn to shreds.