A/N: This is my first attempt at fanfic, please keep that in mind. Constructive Criticism is welcome! I have big hopes for my characters but your reviews and opinions will help out.. If you're gonna flame me, you're just wasting your time, but hey I don't care:) Sooo on a final note, I have barely started the story so be patient because it's going to be very original if it turns out the way I hope it will. And now, on with the show!!

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The tears streamed down her face for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, as her mind mercilessly replayed the night before. She could not help but think how different her life, her whole world had been, only a few short hours ago. Short hours that tormented her to a point where she could not separate them from minutes, seconds or any other time frame. Today didn't seem like today anymore and she likened herself to a spirit encased in a physical cage, screaming for escape but falling short of emitting a whisper. No, she shouldn't be here, it wasn't fair for her to be left behind. Why should she be the one to stay? What did it even matter now that she was alone? And the tears started again, barely having ended. This had become a sort of ritual, destined to have no end. Nevertheless, she shed them silently as she was already beginning to feel like a burden to her new "family." All she desired was solitude; not comforting words, not empty promises about things being better and certainly not lies about her parents now being in a better place. How could that place be better if her mother and father did not have her? True that she was young, but she was no fool. And she knew that this was just a river compared to the oceans of pain that awaited her. Her name was Dileriyen and she was all alone...

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The Night Before

Dileriyen paced back and forth across the wooden floor of the small room as her mother sat by a window, watching the flames that licked the town. It was a small town called Bordertown, obviously because it was located on Mirkwood's borders and quite a distance from the palace. It was a fair region where dwelt most of the soldier families- officers of almost every rank who had at one time or another proudly served their King. They now lived in peace amongst themselves, as was the nature of the elves, and concentrated more on bringing up their families and enjoying their time with them. They were already beginning to feel the darkness taking shape again in the depths of the forest. Most knew that the time would soon come when they would have to leave, never to return. As for the town, it was, unfortunately, a spot of constant attack due to its location. This was especially true for the present, with the evil growing ever strong, adding tension to the very air that was breathed.

Dileriyen was only 400 years old, a mere child when thought of in Elven terms. But she was old enough to understand that her father, Andorel, was out there at that very moment, fighting the foul minions that the dark forces had once again unleashed on the peaceful town. She also knew that many others' fathers were also out there, doing what they could to prevent the fires from spreading and the orcs from entering Mirkwood.

There was something about the way her mother Fundowien gazed through the window with unshed tears in her eyes and a bold look on her face that made Dileriyen think that she would be out there fighting with her father if she did not have to stay home and protect her only child.

*I wonder why they even bother to attack when they ought to know by now that they cannot win,* thought Dileriyen.

The orcs had been driven back so many times that even she, at a child's age, could recall many attempts. But although she did not wish to acknowledge it, this attack was the fiercest yet. She did not know what was going on but there had never been fires before and she had to admit, the thought of them spreading to her house was frightening, to say the least. Even Thranduil had shown up with a band of his men to help out. And so she paced and paced, waiting for her father or for news of anything.

"My love", said Fundowien " will you please come sit down next to me? You are making me very nervous with all that pacing."

"I am sorry mother" sighed Dileriyen "but this waiting is useless, we should be out there helping father, I feel as if we've abandoned him!" she whined, obviously not comprehending the weight of her words.

She was indeed still a child but very noble when it came to matters such as this. She would never shy away from fighting for what was right and even though Fundowien had great respect for this, she could not help but think that it would cause trouble for her daughter later on in her life, thus she tried to discourage these aggressive instincts whenever they should arise.

"Hush child!" said Fundowien sharply as she looked her daughter square in the eyes. "I will not have you speaking such things! We have abandoned no one and we never shall. I promise you, should this roof come crashing down on us, we will not be uprooted from this house. Not now, not ever." With that she turned her gaze back to the window, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

Dileriyen could not understand what had upset her mother so. After all, there had been many attacks in the past and though this might prove to be the fiercest, Thranduil was there. He would set things right. There was nothing that Thranduil and her father could not do when they worked together, as they had done countless times before.

It was safe to say that Thranduil, despite the fact that he was a King of grand reputation and stature, was a second father to her. Thranduil and Andorel had grown up together, like brothers, many millennia ago. One grew up to be King and the other to be General and since this was the closest they could get in terms of profession, it helped them to retain their friendship through the years.

King Thranduil and Queen Sildeniel were her Valar-parents (God-parents) and they often came to see Dileriyen. They loved her very much, especially since they had no children yet. True, the Queen was with child at the moment but she was not due for a few weeks at the least and having a child of their own did not mean they would stop caring for Dileriyen. Not at all. So, her trust in her true father and her valar-father was endless. They would be coming back safe and sound before the night was through. She knew it.

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The same night, two hours later...

Dileriyen pricked up her ears as she heard the sound of faint hoof steps heading towards the house.

"Mother do you hear tha- "

"Yes child I do now hush for a moment!" her mother cut in. The rider was coming with great speed and evidently towards the house which left only one choice for Fundowien- to go outside and identify him, for she would have to take up arms if it were the enemy approaching.

"Dileriyen, my child come here," she beckoned

"Yes mother what is it?"

"Stay in here, I must see who that is. Let us hope it is either your father or King Thranduil who approaches" she stated quickly and grabbed her sword that she had made ready from off the ground.

"But- " started Dileriyen but she was cut off.

"But nothing daughter now stay inside and be quiet! If I do not return in five minutes hide yourself until the rider leaves," she said with a hurry and before Dileriyen had time to argue further, Fundowien sped out the door and carefully towards the path where the sound was coming from. Dileriyen had nothing more to do, so she blew the candles out, inviting the darkness, and settled with gazing through the window at the figure of her brave mother, not knowing that this would be the last time they would see each other.

It was a dark, starless night, making it all the more difficult to see, even for keen Elven eyes. The light from the burning houses was the chief source of illumination at the moment (as the moon was hidden by unfriendly clouds) and it made even the purest things look foul under it's yellow stain. As the rider sped closer and came within the range of seeing, Fundowien stood proud and refused to budge from his path.

"Halt rider!" she commanded when it became clear that it was neither her husband nor the King. "Turn from your path and leave us be!" She held her sword proudly in front of her, challenging any that dared refuse her words.

But the rider would not yield, dashing any last hopes of it being Andorel who would have said something by now, or made himself known in some other way. As the rider drew closer even faster, it became clear that more followed him, all cloaked in black, their hideous faces hidden by hoods. Five large, black figures on horses fiercely galloped towards a single Elf maiden, clad in only a white dress- looking more like a fallen angel, armed with a single sword.

Fundowien observed the scene in dismay. She knew that even to turn and run as a coward- which was something she would not contemplate- would be futile. She stood her ground, determined, and made her last stand.

As the first rider got within a foot of her, she swung her sword with such might that the he fell off his horse and was cut down whilst still scrambling to get up. But Fundowien was not as lucky with the rest. They rode as a group and ran over her, trampling over her fragile body, then bashing it endlessly with their swords.

It was a sight that no one, especially a child, should ever have to see. Even as Dileriyen froze in shock at the scene she could not believe had taken place, the riders rode towards the house with lit torches, their intention painfully obvious. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Her mother had been murdered in front of her very eyes.and she had done nothing. Her father had not come back.but why? She could not believe that he too had.no. She would not think it.

Suddenly, she felt complete and utter emptiness. She was left alone. Her family was gone and she too would soon be dead. With that, she shook herself back to cruel reality and headed for her father's best sword which proudly hung over the fireplace. What did it matter if she was a child? She could wield a sword with an excellence that exceeded many, and not just for elves her age but for anyone- a gift from her parents who were both excellent swordsmen in their own right. With tears streaming down her face, she looked upon her house one last time and went out the door with sword in hand, already dead inside.

"Trouble us no more you filthy demons!" she screamed " Leave now, else I shall not take pity!"

The leader of the pack stopped and hissed a laughter that would haunt her for years to come. Apparently there was something funny about all this but what it was, Dileriyen failed to understand.

"Youuu -child- dare challenge meeee?" he hissed whilst pointing a finger at her which was now mere inches from her face. He was now off his hideous horse and crouching in front of her. But before he could start laughing again, Dileriyen swung her sword with lightening speed and slit the creature's throat in one swift movement.

"Yes, I do," she said with disgust as the creature crumpled to her feet, trying to clutch at her legs as his worthless life slipped away. The other three quickly ceased their laughing and were about to trample the child as they had done her mother, when an arrow sped through the sky and found it's way through the chest of the next orc. He fell off his horse and just as the remaining two turned around to see what was going on, one got hit through the eye. Sadly, the last one managed to escape and sped through the night, his hate now being his only shield and ally. Dileriyen did not understand what was happening and was about to turn and run when she heard her name being called out.

"Dileriyen! Is that you child? Dileriyen, stop!" It was a voice she was very familiar with.

"Oh Thranduil!" she screamed running up to him, crying all the time. The Kingl immediately dismounted his horse and ran up to embrace her.

"My m-mother...they...I... My..m my..f f father..w-where is he?" she stammered through the tears.

Thranduil looked straight into her eyes and stroked her hair. For the first time in her life, Dileriyen saw tears slide down his cheeks. She did not need any other answer and clung to him, never wanting to let go.