Disclaimer: Tolkien owns everything about Middle Earth. No money is being made.

Author's Notes: YAY! Thanks so much for the kind reviews that I've received so far! It really encourages me to continue with this story! Okay, I did get inquiries concerning Elenmírë's looks, and well, to clarify what I meant, I looked at Mandy Moore's character in "A Walk To Remember" and also Sandra Bullock's character in "Miss Congeniality." Those two characters weren't exactly ugly, but many of the people around them didn't consider them to be highly beautiful (pre-makeovers, that is), and they weren't paid much attention to; to others, they seemed to just take up space. It is somewhat the same with Elenmírë; she's not ugly, but she thinks she is because of all the other She-Elves that she is surrounded by, particularly her sister Arwen, who is considered to be one of the most beautiful Elves in all of Middle Earth. Elenmírë is a particularly plain-looking Elf when compared to other She-Elves, but she has the potential to really shine in her own way, just like the two characters from "A Walk to Remember" and "Miss Congeniality"…I can't say anymore, or else I'll give away what might happen in this story, so I hope that clarifies that issue for everyone!

Concerning her name, I just grabbed two words (elen and mírë) out of the index in the back of The Silmarillion and squashed them together LOL. Elen means 'star' and mírë (Quenya) means 'jewel.' So I figured, 'Hey, it looks pretty cool when you put them together' so that's how her name came to be! LOL. Okay, sorry for that terribly long A/N! On to the story!

01/16/06: Gosh, I loved writing long author's notes, didn't I?

The Imperfect One
By: JDArc

Chapter Three: A Polished Jewel

Elenmírë paced back and forth across the floor of her room, trying to rid herself of the anger that had consumed her that afternoon. She knew that she would have to face Mary Sue and Legolas again at the banquet that Lord Elrond was holding that very night, but she would try her damned best to stay away from them both. If Mary Sue challenged her again, she knew that in her rage, she would hurt her, maybe even kill her. And Legolas…Elenmírë shook her head. Legolas was a danger to her. An army of orcs could not render her with fear, but Legolas' presence did, for she was not in control of her emotions around him, and that was something she was not used to nor was it something she liked at all.

"I knew I'd find you here." Elenmírë looked up to her doorway where Elladan stood watching her. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Elenmírë bowed her head in shame and turned away, walking to her balcony.

"It's not fair, Elladan," she whispered softly, gazing over the railing to the last rays of light as the sun dipped just below the horizon. "I know I was awful this afternoon, but one can only take so much after a long time." She heard him walk softly across the room to join her at the balcony and remained silent, willing for her to continue. "It just isn't right. The whole world expects us to be the fairest creatures, the most beautiful, but I feel as if fate had robbed me, especially when I saw that girl." She spat the word 'girl' as if it were poison. "I know I sound bitter, but I cannot help it." She looked at her brother with tears in her eyes. "When Elrohir told me that I had said enough to her, a thought flashed through my mind. Why hasn't anyone ever stood up for me like that, or ever yelled at someone else for insulting me? All these long years, I have endured those hideous stares, and not even one person stood by me to defend me from their horrible glances."

Elladan bit his lip and hung his head in humiliation. When he and Elrohir grew up with Elenmírë, they were young and careless and even joined some of the teasing that their mates had started about Elenmírë's plain looks. He never knew the extent of the damage that they had started long ago, and now the backlash was even worse than he expected. He never thought she would actually believe their taunts, much less listen to them, but years of hearing the same jokes, the same comments must have made her deem them to be true.

"Oh, Mírë, I'm so sorry," he apologized, opening his arms to her, and she fell into them, sobbing. "Elrohir and I never knew how much we hurt you. Why did you not tell us before?"

"I did not want to appear weak," she cried, her voice muffled as she buried her face into her hands. "My courage as a warrior was the only thing I had left to gain respect." She lifted her tear-streaked face to him. "Look at me! As an Elf, I'm supposed to be beautiful, not so ugly or plain-looking!" Elladan placed his hands on her shoulders and slightly shook her.

"Elenmírë, listen to yourself!" he bellowed, and her eyes grew wide. Elladan never spoke to her so furiously before. "You must stop this…this obsessing over appearances! You are an amazing person, and it hurts those who care about you to see you slowly killing yourself. You are amazing," he repeated, lowering his voice, "and I wish I had the power to convince you that much." She grew still in his arms, and her sniffling slowly stopped.

"Thank you, Elladan," she whimpered in a quiet voice. "It is just so hard, and I am so tired…"

"Shh," he soothed. "Just remember that you needn't go through your pain alone. I am here if ever you need to talk." She nodded and straightened up, offering him a weak smile. "Now, Mírë, will you get ready for the banquet tonight?" She nodded again, too emotionally drained to speak. He locked eyes with her. "For once, my dear sister, please let Annaril pamper you, just for tonight. It might be of some help to let someone else take care of you." He smiled feebly as he walked toward the door, but he paused and turned to look at her. "I will be here to escort you down to the dining hall when you are ready." With that he left, and Annaril arrived a few minutes later, a wide grin spread across her face.

"Elladan gave me orders, arwenamin, and I must keep to them for I do not wish to put him in a foul disposition," she said brightly as she led Elenmírë away to the bath. Elenmírë kept silent the entire time as Annaril washed her hair with the finest scented oils, but she gave a startled yelp upon seeing a blade in Annaril's hand when she was through.

"Wh-what-" she stammered.

"I mean not to alarm you, arwenamin," Annaril pacified in a calming voice, "but I thought that I ought to cut a bit of your hair-"

"What for!" Elenmírë roared. Annaril scowled and proceeded to comb Elenmírë's long tresses.

"Well, first of all, my Lady, the ends of your hair are rather damaged due to your hasty job of braiding it improperly for all these years, and you are constantly out and about looking for danger that I am rather shocked to see that your hair is not as mutilated as I thought it to be," she replied matter-of-factly. "Besides, I am under orders to make sure that you look absolutely splendid, and the style I wish to try on your hair would look unusual if I did not cut off those broken ends and-"

"Oh, go on with it," Elenmírë sighed exasperatedly. "I am naught but a lost cause, and I believe it to be a waste of time, I tell you, to try to make me pretty. You will certainly fail, and I assure you, Elladan probably won't know the difference anyway."

Annaril rolled her eyes before snipping Elenmírë's hair. "There you go again, with all that nonsense," she muttered. "You shall look marvelous tonight…" Her voice trailed off, and she gave her own sigh. "It's not that you are not attractive, dear, it is just you never seem to want to try to be." She paused and cupped her fingers around Elenmírë's chin, gently turning her face to look at her. She smiled down upon her with motherly affection. "You do have potential, Elenmírë. You mustn't think of yourself as a lost cause. The only way others will ever see how beautiful you are is if you realize it first." Elenmírë was touched to see such sincerity on her face and in her words, and she nodded, giving her a small grin.

"Fine, you win, but only for tonight," Elenmírë said with a note of resignation. "My normal, cynical self will be back tomorrow, mind you, but tonight she is on a holiday."

"Splendid!" Annaril squealed like a young Elf, and continued to snip and style Elenmírë's hair, and Elenmírë did have to admit, it did feel wonderful to let someone fuss over her, to care about her in such a way. As the preparation wore on, excitement actually grew inside her heart, and she even enjoyed trying on the many unworn dresses that had been collecting inside her closet over the many years. Annaril finally decided on a deep green gown which complimented her olive skin, and the silver hem and lining brought out her grey eyes. Annaril refused to allow Elenmírë even one glance into the mirror before she was through, wanting to build a moment of suspense.

"Annaril, may I please look now?" Elenmírë whined, but Annaril shook her head, giving her hair a few more twists and even braided a silver ribbon into her styled concoction. After a few more swipes of the brush, Annaril placed Elenmírë's royal crown, a ringlet of silver, upon her brow and finally nodded.

"There, you are ready, Lady Elenmírë," she said formally, her face flushed with excitement.

Slowly, Elenmírë approached the mirror, pausing just a few steps away from it, scared to see her reflection, and a bit nervous that, after all Annaril's preparing, she would still remain as ugly as she thought she was. Closing her eyes, she crossed the remaining space between herself and the mirror, trying to calm her staggered breathing. Then she looked.

"But that is not me," she gasped, gawking at the reflection, afraid that if she moved, it would disappear like a cloud of illusion.

"But it is, arwenamin," Annaril grinned. "Now you see what your family and I have seen all along. Those who never saw it were fools," and she added as her grin grew wider, "including yourself."

Elenmírë's eyes were wide as she hungrily observed herself in the mirror. It seemed her face was not her own, but it was. There was the same flat nose, the undefined cheekbones, but the style of her hair and especially her crown, brought attention to her grey Elven eyes, once dim, but now lit with just the tiniest flicker of light. The scoop neckline emphasized her shoulders, making them look delicate, and the sleeves of her gown smoothed the bulkiness the muscles of her arms. The small bulge of her belly was still there, but the cut of the dress cleverly hid it. She turned to the side, and saw that her bottom still protruded, but it did look much better in a dress than it did in those tight leggings. The dress did wonders to her imperfect body, but she shifted uncomfortably under its weight. However, she smiled widely, turning to Annaril and rushing over to give her a hug.

"You've done wonders, my friend!" she laughed, feeling tears of happiness threatening to spill over her cheeks. "I-I do not look as plain as I did before! It is quite a miracle that you have performed." Annaril shook her head modestly.

"No, my Lady," she answered softly. "I just merely polished a forgotten jewel." She gave Elenmírë another hug before leading her to the doorway. "Now, if I recall correctly, you have a young Lord awaiting your arrival." Elenmírë struggled from Annaril's grasp and grabbed her sheathed sword, strapping it loosely around her waist.

"I'm still a warrior, after all," she commented, watching Annaril's expression change from disbelief to exasperation. "All the other guards will have theirs! Why shouldn't I?"

"You cease to amaze me, arwenamin," Annaril sighed, shaking her head, a grin now stretching across her face. "No matter what I do, I shall never be able to shake the fighter out of you."

"Well, I am first and foremost a warrior," Elenmírë smirked, "even under all these yards of fabric, and I don't intend to let anyone forget that ever, including tonight!" The two links arms and laughed as they went to the door to meet Elladan who waited patiently outside.

TBC.