Hello, time to go again! If there isn't much love for this fic, that's okay; this project is a ton of fun, and it's mostly for a writing portfolio, I suppose. ;) Constructing Tauran's world is sad and mystical, almost like a Brothers Grimm fairy tale.

In the morning the Elves were gone. Tauran lay awhile in the dimness of her cave, wondering at the happiness and bliss of the night, and whether it was all a dream, but she was still possessed of an Elven cloak and a skin of sweet water, and knew it was not so. She yet desired to bask in her happiness, and therefore was not over eager to return to the house of her father's kin. But she bestirred herself soon for fear of her father's wrath, and set back ere the morning was out.

Preceding her to the house were those Elves with whom Tauran had spent the enchanted night. They were eager to meet the kin of a child so like their own that they hastened through the woods. What they saw displeased them greatly.

Rather than seeking for Tauran in the morning, or mourning her apparent death in the elements, for not even the hardiest of men could have survived such a storm, and they knew not of her hidden cave or her good fortune, the house of Midrella was rather in preparation of a hand-fasting.

As he was convinced of his daughter's death, Carthrong sought Midrella's arms in grief and shame, and must needs wed her for it. He thought in his madness that his daughter's spirit would rest more easily with merriment to honor her.

Some within the house wondered at this, for a few were not without honor or some small affection for the child, and stood aside. Most though, yet rejoiced in their hearts for being forever spared, as they saw it, from the surly and haunting child, and thought only of Midrella's happiness. For the celebration was prepared a great a feast as could be spared in the winter, and a great oak log burned, the tree that Tauran had named Feldra.

Seeing this ceremony completed, and so many Men, the Green Elves were alarmed and came not forth, for they were few in numbers compared to the household.

Enraged, at last the Elf-maid who had treated Tauran kindly came forth against the council of her brother. When she emerged from the woods, the men stood amazed at her, for she was fair by the reckoning of Elves at the time. "Why," asked she, "do thou make merry? Surely it is too chill."

The mother of Midrella, being the first to recover from the awe of seeing an Elf, replied: "It is never an ill time to be glad of love. And lo! We have a great fire built here. You are welcome to it, or your kin..."

The Elf-maid did not join them. "And wherefore are the children? Such a large home must have children. They are merry and in our likeness, and therefore our joys."

Midrella paled but said nothing, and Carthrong grew irritable with shame.

"There are none left," said the brother of Midrella. Perceiving his lie the Elf-maid looked to him. Her anger shone forth in her eyes, and many recoiled to see it. "Speak not, Man. Behold! For we encountered such a child lost and care-worn that was possessed of such raiment as thee and thou wear, and in yonder man's likeness. Tauran she is called, and driven forth was she from your house, I deem, and here you celebrate, as though a feastday."

"Mine child lives?" Carthrong queried, "Where is she? My wandering child lives!" Abasing himself to the Elf-maid, he paid her many thanks, for he perceived that she had succored his child amid the snow storm. "I will not reveal to thee where she rests, for it her place alone, ere my kinsmen discovered it and took shelter with her. Beware! I say unto thee: for her sake we shall tolerate thee so close to the land of the Laiquendi, and not waylay you. But should Tauran be driven forth again, you shall be welcomed no longer to lands so near our own. Elvellon we name her, and therefore abide her."

Carthrong shuddered in awe to hear the name of his child. It seemed to him that Feldra clung to everything around, and was inescapable. He had burned her, yet there she was yet, breathed in such a loathsome name. She died, yet his child inherited the mantle that Feldra had worn in life, for her mother was Elvellon ere she died.

"Hath that wicked child bewitched thee?" said Midrella, for she was scornful. "Aye, I say wicked and ungrateful, running to and fro, sullen and ill-tempered. We abide her, as ye say, but she ran forth from us for a little quarrel as might be thought, and we believed her lost. We sought only to honor her with a wedding, such as we might have."

"Hush, woman!" said Carthrong. "Thou speak to the savior of my child, and therefore your own."

The Elf-maid said nothing, and her silence unsettled the tribe more than her words. "You shall ever have what thou desire," she said at last unto Midrella, "and much of it shall come for the deeds of the little Tauran. All thou desire, except her heart. You shall know this, always, and should your love ever fall upon her, she will scorn it, and accept it not."

Midrella said nothing as the Elf-maid took her leave, and the celebration ceased for shame and fear of the Elves. The household murmured all the more of Tauran, whose kin were often called witches by the men of the east.

Tauran tarried long in the woods, as she was hopeful of being reunited with her friends. She hoped to ask for leave to depart with the Elves to their lands, to dwell in the trees as they did, and speak their secret tongue. She knew not that it was not the Green Elves' custom to foster human children, or that they loved her not yet enough to make an exception.

She searched on, but she found them not, and exhausting her store of sweet water and hard meat, she returned at last to Midrella's hearth with dread in her little breast, all the while dreaming of a home where she could hear the Elven-song that lulled her to sleep once more.

Chapter 3, end.

So that was short! That's all there needs to be in this chapter, really, and I just wanted to feel a little more accomplished before tomorrow. Next chapter will really get the plot-ball rolling.

This story is very different as to how I write We Are Unseen, which is done via "pant-seating", a method in which your story is unplotted and written as you go. (Editing is a bitch for those) This story is hard plot.