A/N-Hey guys! For those who have hung on to this sotory for months and months and months without any news stuff, I am sorry. Well, I'm back and for those who HAVE already read this chapter, I add some more to it as you can see. This is the first turning point in this story and was extremely hard for me to write. I actually got bored and worked on other things (meaning sequels). Enjoy

Angainawen

Mithfeniel passed through the gates of the lord's manor sadly; it was obvious she'd have to walk back home alone. Shango no doubt was screwing the blonde and that wasn't new. Again Mithy wondered why she even took the whore into her home in the first place. She sighed and wished she wasn't easily taken to pity. She remembered well the day her father came back from some trip through Dol Guldur; a slim teenage girl sleeping on his horse. The young elf had looked at the slightly short maiden and was intrigued by her shiny jet black hair and tan skin.

"Father, who is this?" she had asked.

"She's looks atleast somewhat Haradric," Legolas shrugged and picked the girl up. "I found her half-dead in Dagorlad. She hasn't woken since."

Mithfeniel helped lift the girl off the horse, noticing how emaciated she was. "Father, she's starved. We have to get her some food!"

"See to it that you do," Legolas calmly dismounted , a grim look on his face. "I have word for Minas Tirith that speeds me away."

"What is it, Adar?" The girl's face had held that of foreboding. "What ill did you find in our homeland?"

The young prince shook his head sadly and sighed, "Nothing too damaging, Arasield. The woods just aren't ours anymore."

Mithfeniel cocked her head and keenly narrowed her eyes, "You are keeping something from me, Father. What did you find on that accursed mound?"

"Nothing, there was nothing there but ruins and spiders, Mithfeniel. Nothing there but the memories of Death." With that Legolas, former Prince of Mirkwood, went inside to grab provisions and then headed off for Minas Tirith to once again speak with King Elessar.

Meanwhile, Mithfeniel took the girl over to her room in the sheltered halls of Harfen, pondering over her father's cryptic words as she cleansed her. After awhile her patient awoke suddenly and tried to bolt from the bed, though the Elven healer held her firmly down. There was complete fear in the girl's amber gold eyes when she hissed in clear though accented Westron, "Let me go!"

The elf complied though gave her a stern look, shifting into a more human nature, "I will, if you remain here. You are badly hurt and should not strain yourself."

The newcomer stared Mithfeniel back with an icier glare, "I need not some child to tend me. I can make it on my own, thank you!" With that she tried to get up, yet with a look Mithfeniel laid her back down.

"You need rest and water," she said, this time soothingly. "My father found you in the wastelands near death. I was told to help you regain your strength."

The other sighed and relaxed, though then turned back to Mithfeniel saying sternly, "Where am I? If I am back at the city, slay me now before the guards find me."

The elder of the two looked at her strangely, "What city do you speak of?"

The name the girl gave was none familiar to Mithy and sounded like a far different language than the ones she knew. "You are in the Elven settlement of Harfen, which is nestled within the fair trees of Ithilien. You are far from the guards that seek you." With that she gently stroked the girl's cheek to calm her. "Do not fear; you are safe with me."

"Who are you savior, my deliverer from death?" At the title she bestowed the young refugee switched to her true tongue, though Mithfeniel knew it was not Haradric.

"I am Mithfeniel, Daughter of Legolas, Lord of Harfen. It was he who found you in the wasteland and then put you in my care."

"My birth-name is Shango, I know not my father." With that the young girl bowed her head. "Therefore I have no surname at all."

"What was your mother's name?" Mithfeniel reassuringly whispered. "That can be your surname."

Again Shango shook her head, "I do not remember. My mother's husband sold me when I was very young."

"Sold you?"

Shango nodded vacantly, her mind succumbing to her past, "Aye, sold me. They were low on money and I wasn't welcomed in that home. My mother gave me this, though, to remember her by." She took off a small amber crystal that hung around her neck and handed it to Mithfeniel.

Again another wave of pity washed over Mithfeniel as she studied the trinket. It wasn't expensive looking at all, nor was it completely beautiful, until it caught the light. It glowed with such a warmth that the young elf had her breath taken away. "It's utterly beautiful."

"Keep it," Shango said. "It does me no good. It's not even worth one meal."

"Are you serious?" Mithfeniel asked, shocked. The mortal nodded, "Certainly. I was never loved in that home anyway."

Again the elf was shocked at Shango's treatment. She took the other's hand, "You are welcomed here, Shango. Do not doubt that. You can stay and call this your home if you wish."

"I would like that very much," The 17 year old said with a weak smile. "I feel here a peace I have never felt in my life, Mithy."

Mithfeniel smiled at the nickname, understanding that some humans didn't like saying huge mouthfuls. "I am glad you feel that peace, Shango…" The young elf made a weird face at the very odd name, causing the one in bed laugh.

"You can find me another name if you wish it, Mithy. I can tell by your sweet voice that you tongue is far more elegant than mine." With that the tired girl closed her eyes and snuggled against the soft linens and silks that the elves furnish their beds.

Mithy smiled as her new friend fell asleep, saying so softly in Westron, "Sleep well, Telella, my new sister. May your dreams be peaceful." Then she laid upon Shango's brow a soft kiss and after that exited the room.

The young elf once again smiled at the memory, being grateful for her closest friend. Before Shango, Mithy felt very alone in life. After that day she had a very faithful companion, and that made her feel far happier than she had since they moved down to Ithilien. Certainly Maiwë didn't make her feel cherished and loved. Oddly though, she gave Shango's treasure to him when he proposed as a sign of acceptance. He wore everywhere and no doubt was fingering it as the crystal laid against his heart. "I have to tell him," she whispered to herself. "I can't let him be lied to anymore."

The moon was full that solstice night, frost already forming on the ground. Being only half-Elven, Mithfeniel did slightly feel the biting chill of the winter night and hugged her cloak around her body. She once again wished that Shango was with her, or even the ever annoying companions of hers, the Sons of Elrond, who usually stayed at Harfen in between their hermitages. But they were either up north right now, or paying their sister a visit at Minas Tirith. Again, Mithfeniel sighed over the fact that she was completely and utterly alone.

She passed through lightly, though sadly, through the woods of Ithilien, along the hidden path to Harfen, the last permanent home of the elves. The ground was strewn with frozen leaves, making it stiff and hard walking. The half-human girl sighed, wishing she was more like her father's kin and rubbed her dainty yet numbing nose. Thankfully, her Elven blood kept her teeth from noisily chattering, a habit she had found annoying about humans. Her mind for some reason then wandered back to the party and the brunette boy she met hours before. He was different than most, reclusive even. He intrigued her….

Without looking where she was going Mithy tripped over a huge object in the path. She gracefully caught herself and turned to see the obstacle. Eyes wide, she leaned back against a tree, clasping a hand over her mouth. The thing she tripped over was a corpse.

The body was dark, slightly short, and thickly coated in armor. One long arm was sprawled out towards her traveled path; it's gnarled, clawed hand groping for a scimitar at Mithy's feet. Embedded in it's neck were three green arrows. Mithy recognized them as the same Maiwë and the rest of the guard used. Sudden fear crawled up her spine; this orc couldn't have been dead more than a few hours. And as every soldier said, orcs are usually not alone.

"Why do we have to live in Ithilien?" she muttered to herself. Ithilien, though it was the garden of Gondor, was still wild and fairly close to Mordor, where dark creatures still inhabited even after almost thirty years.

She then crept carefully along the trail, noticing the complete stillness of the woods. Again more chills came over her as she saw arrows protruding out of the young trees. It gave her another tingling sense along her spine. The trees were scared as well. Every step she took was so heavy, so loud to her ears that she thought any moment something would catch her. It was now, as the moon came out from behind the dark clouds that she found Harfen.

The gates were ruined, having been pried open by some force. Mithy saw the walls, black and red blood smeared against the light brown of the wood. Deep down inside her, she felt like retching. Bodies were littered on the ground, ten orcs and four guards. For the first time that night she thought of her betrothed and again she trembled. Reluctantly, as every step churned her stomach, she crossed other to the dead.

First was Anglos, his unseeing eyes staring the sky. Anglos was one of her father's countless friends. She remembered that he was a captain, and had fought in battles since the Second Age. She gently closed his grey eyes and kissed the pale brow, whispering a farewell and hoping that he'll find peace with Mandos.

Alittle while off was another guard, crumpled against a tree. The long silky hair was now matted from where blood coated it, its glowing luster completely gone. Eyes closed in slight pain, the soldier died after being impaled by a spear that still trapped him against the tree. Mithy immediately recognized the firm, angled chin and fell to her knees. Her worst fears were founded.

So slowly she crept next to the now beautiful elf, feeling so much guilt for having scorned this kind generous friend. He had loved her, yet she was too cold to return it. Now it was too late. Mithy caressed his pale cheek, and leaned against his shoulder, tearing up. Only once before had she done this, only when she was a child. Without knowing why, she softly sang to him, like he would to her, only now sobs interrupted the tune. She then softly kissed him and said one final prayer, wanting to die beside him. Her eyes slowly closed, her body paled as well. In her mind she felt a loving hand wrap around her own and her soft voice whispered, "Take me with you, I will love you while we dance among the stars…"

Maiwë smiled at her kindly, sadly and shook his head. "No," he said. "You have other paths to follow. They took your jewel, love. Bring it back to place on my grave. Then you will be free of me."

"I don't want to be free anymore. I want to love you and be beside you."

Maiwë sighed and kissed her brow, "I love you, but you need to move on. Look out for youself, Mithy." She furrowed her brow at his words as he faded away. Immediately afterwards she was dragged to her feet.

Snapping awake she stared at the horrible creature lifting her by the throat into the air. His face was cruel, a gruesome smile on his face. "Pretty pet wished to die?" He growled in his own tongue, unsheathing his sword. "Well, I grant that wish." He moved to stab her.

Reflexively she kicked her feet up into his middle, causing him to drop her. Then she began to run, behind her the orc was cursing aloud as he died. The beast stabbed himself with his own blade. She kept on running.

Mithy ran blindly through the woods, tears streaming, not caring where she was going. He was dead. Maiwë, her fiancé, was dead. She should've never gone, she should've stayed home with him. But what could she do? He was dead the instant they attacked. She would've just gotten killed too.

Suddenly she passed someone and he put out his arm to stop her. "M'lady!" His hand caught her off-guard and struck her cross the chest. She stopped as the blow winded her and skidded onto the forest floor. The man, whoever he was, came over to her. "M'lady are you ok?"

Still gasping slighting she looked up at him. It was the guy she talked to, the gay one.

He laughed, "I'm not gay, stop looking at me like that." He offered his hand and helped her to her feet. "You ok? You must've been going awfully fast for my arm to wind you."

"You shouldn't have stuck it out in the first place!" Mithy had no time for this guy. She pushed him aside and started to walk off, but immediately felt his hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong? You looked distressed," he asked an honest question, but his hand shouldn't be on her at all. She erupted.

"Get your filthy human hand off me!" she tugged some more to get free but he wouldn't let go.

"Answer me, and I'll let you go. A lady like you shouldn't be wandering the woods alone at night. Please, I only want to help."

"Then let go!" She tried again, but as soon as she got free he grabbed her other arm and turned her so she faced him, taking her other arm in the process.

"No, you're hurt. It's obvious, and I'm not one who lets a wounded bird die." He looked her in the eye and said quietly, "I won't hurt you if you stop flailing."

Mithy gave him a look of disgust and stood still. "Now will you let go of me?"

He smiled at her, she was beautiful, even in tears. She looked natural. "Not till you answer my question. What's wrong?" He loosened his grip on her arms.

"Fine, my home has been destroyed, ok? Everyone's gone except for the dead. Now let go!" She was too mad at this jerk right now, or else she would've cried.

He did as she said and backed up a few paces. "Ok, but you might want to rest some before you bleed to death or die of grief.."

She narrowed her eyes, making them turn burnt red. Who did he think he was, to act as though they were good friends! She hardly knew him! "No!"

"Are you sure?" he, for some dumb reason, was perfectly calm. As though he didn't care either way if she went with him. "I promise I won't lay a hand on you again unless you want me to. And only then to clean those scrapes."

She looked at him, and started to relax, her eyes returning to their natural brown. He was trying very hard not to look like he wanted her in bed. She sighed, "Fine, why not?"

He smiled again at her and gestured for her to follow him. "So, you're Fenny, right? I'm sorry, I never was good with names."

"Yeah, you're right. Though your name seems to be replaced with Fucker."

He laughed, "I'm not trying to harm you! But if you really want to call me that, I'm sure at some point in my life I deserved that title."

"I'm sure you did."

They walked some in silence and came to a wooden lodge. "After you, m'lady." He opened the door for her and they heard a loud screech. "Damn it, Gondor! You're supposed to be asleep! Come in, the bird doesn't bite."

Fenny stepped in slowly, taking in the entire place. It was built like a typical one room cottage, though stuffed like a library. The walls were covered with waist high bookshelves, over-stuffed, and thousands of drawings of trees, people, birds, horses, and architecture. There was a small desk in center of the room next to a cot. The only spot on the wall where their wasn't drawings was occupied by a cabinet full of dishes, jars, rags, and plants. At the foot of the cot was a huge chest overflowing with shirt sleeves and belts. There were also piles of books lying in the middle of the floor, each having a folded slip of paper saying the date for when they were due and from which library they came from. She had never seen so many books in one room in her life!

"Why are you so shocked? Haven't you been in a library before?" he said from a corner of the room. He was tending to a bird, about as big as an average dog, and giving it some kind of meat.

"Yes, but this isn't a library. It's a rat's nest!"

"A pack rat's nest," he corrected her, giving the bird the last of the meat. "That's enough, boy. You should've been asleep anyway." He walked over to the desk and placed his hands in a basin, washing them. "So, Fenny, make yourself at home. There's a chair here and the bed, umm, you might find enough space on the floor. Sorry, I'm not used to company." He dried his hands on a rag next to the basin and waited for her to reply.

"It's ok," she finally said. She didn't know why she hadn't answered him till then. Maybe she was still in shock, or was tired. What ever the reason, it was no excuse for the plain answer she gave him. He had a sense of humor (something Maiwë never had grasped), a way with words, and was truly different than what she thought of men. He was quite likable in this state.

They stood some in silence, and then Fenny finally sat down on the cot. It was springy. She bounced a little for fun. Elboron smiled, being reminded of his sister. He missed her, and never really got a chance to talk to her at the feast. Damn me, he thought. He sighed and went over to the cabinet, retrieving a pitcher, bowl, and towel. "Here, this broth will keep your cuts from getting infected, as well as prevent them from scarring your skin." He sat down next to her. "May I? I'm a man of my word, and I won't touch you unless you permit me to."

She smiled at him, realizing that he might be the friend she needed right now. She nodded and held out her arm.

Elboron returned her smile and poured the broth in the bowl. He then soaked the rag in the clear liquid and dabbed her shoulder, gently. He looked at her cream colored skin, trying not to show its effect on him. He decided that the best way to distract himself was to talk. "So, is Fenny your real name? Or one you like to go by." It was a lame subject but he had to think of something.

"No, it's a nickname I guess. You're the first person to call me it."

"Well, it was the only name you gave me." He soaked the rag again in the basin, and moved on to her other arm. "What is your real name, may I ask?"

"Mithfeniel, though no one calls me that unless they're trying to be formal. I go by Mithy at home." She looked at him, his calm expression and sapphire eyes, all of it. Even his after-shave, she stared at.

"What should I call you by, if you don't like Fenny?" He finished her arm and stopped. He had only permission for her arms, that's all. No matter how tempting it might be, he'd have to wait till she gave him permission before he moved on.

"Oh I like Fenny! It's sweet and human." She leaned a little closer to him. "Call me what you wish."

He smiled. "Ok, Fenny. Now, you gave me only your arm, but there are some other scrapes on you where I shouldn't really touch unless asked."

"Oh! Go ahead, I guess I trust you now."

He looked at her, not getting that she'd actually let him touch her anywhere as long as it was with intention to heal her. This girl was either really out of it or dumb. He could do anything to her and she wouldn't care. He re-soaked the rag and gently cleaned her face. "You know, Fenny. My friend said that you were glancing at me during the party. Why?"

"Oh, well, you were just sitting there, not talking. It was different." She looked up at the ceiling. "It caught my eye."

He smiled at her, "well what if I had a reason to be unnoticed and you ruined it?"

"Oh, did I? I'm sorry." She looked at him sincerely, making him uncomfortable. He put down the rag and stood up off the bed.

"Well, I think you're ready to move on, if you want." He placed his supplies back into the cabinet and went to the door to pour the broth outside. By his gestures, the brunette looked as though he wished her to leave.

"Oh! So you're showing me to the door? That's really nice!" She got up and stomped off past him, furious and hurt.

Without knowing why he stopped her again. "I wasn't kicking you out."

"Oh really? What were you doing?" She turned towards him and her anger abated as she saw his sad face.

"I was just going to dump out the broth, m'lady."

She laughed, "Oh! I'm sorry! How stupid of me!" She moved out of the way so he could toss the mess into the bushes. As he did so, she got to notice that this seemingly lank guy had a little muscle, not like his cousin or even Maiwë, but some. He looked quite attractive.

He sensed her thoughts and blushed, knowing that a lady had never thought such things about him in six years, and even then he was cute, not hot. She's quite attractive too, he thought. He pushed his thoughts out of his mind and looked into the night. "It's cold out. I'm probably gonna freeze my ass off again."

I hope not that ass, she thought. "I'm sorry, I'd offer you somewhere warmer, for all your trouble, but I don't have a place to stay."

"Oh no big deal. My ass will be fine."

She laughed, very melodically, "You're proud of your behind, aren't you?"

"Why shouldn't I? It's put up with heavy beatings from friends, family, and enemies. Your ass is as important as your toes, Fenny."

"Really? I never thought of that before. But I can see why. I guess I take my butt for granted."

You shouldn't take that butt for granted, he thought. "So, you don't have somewhere to stay? I can pull some strings and you can stay at my parents' hall. Ok?"

"What about you? Besides, I have to find my friend, Shango. She was the girl I was talking to at the party."

"She's probably having sex, knowing my cousin."

"Yeah, she's like that too. Which inn is he staying at?"

"Oh, he's staying at my parents' tonight. I can take you there."

"Ok," Fenny walked out into the dark forest. She started to shiver, finally calm enough to notice the cold. "You're right. It is cold out here."

"Oh, I should've realized that you'd be cold. Here," he tossed her a jacket that he found in his trunk. "That might keep you warm, though it might be big on you. I have broad shoulders."

"I know." She put on the jacket, and indeed the sleeves were huge. But it kept her warm.

They strode to the Northern Gate and came up to the guards. Elboron held out his hand and showed them a silver ring with a white tree overlapping a crescent moon, the seal of Ithilien. The guards then let the two pass without a word.

"You can just walk in?" Fenny looked at him confused. "That's impossible at this time of night."

"Well, you just saw it happen," he smiled at her. "Besides, I'm in charge right now. My father's off at Minas Tirith."

"Your father's Lord Faramir?"

He nodded. "Yes, though it's not like I don't look like him!" He rubbed his nose.

Fenny smiled and looked at him. "I don't know your father all that well; I'm always away when my father went to meetings and such. But I've heard he's very noble, and my father's a good friend of his."

"Who's your father?"

"Lord Legolas."

Elboron stopped in his tracks. "What?"

"My father's Lord Legolas of Harfen."

"Are you serious? But that would make you elven."

"Catch on quick, don't you?" She started to walk again.

Elboron blinked then followed her. He was talking to an elf and not just any elf but a princess elf. He swallowed. "I had no idea, m'lady."

She sighed and spoke softly: "I am only half-elven. My mother was mortal like you."

"Who was your mother?"

"Oh, just a woman from Dale. She died a long time ago."

"I am sorry."

"Don't be. I never knew her and it isn't your fault."

"How old are you?" he asked, catching her hand.

She paused and he could feel the trembling in her hand. "As old as Elros when he died."

Elboron's eyes once again widened, but he didn't let go of her hand. "Does that mean you will die soon?"

She laughed and it was pleasing to hear. "No," she said and drew slightly closer to him. "I am allowed to choose my fate just like him. So far I wish to choose immortality." Though with you that might change, she thought. She could see him swallow, his lips slightly parted, at her words. Now it was his turn to slightly tremble.

"It must be so wonderful," he said "to live forever. I am sure you will see many things."

She smiled, though it was weak. "I probably will. Where's your cousin's room?"

"Straight ahead," he replied and let go of her hand. They kept walking , yet neither of them said a word till they reached the room.

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

A/N- My extreme apologies for not putting this up sooner. It's been a hard section to write for me, yet finally I've plowed through it. I'll say this now, I've already written half of the story, before I even started posting, and now I'm filling in all the holes. This was one of them. The next chapter should be up real soon, I just have to do some touch-up's on it. I hope this wasn't thick reading…. I try to make sure it isn't.

Namaarie,

Angainawen