Person responsible: Jodie (Padawan of the Anonymous Torture Fic Writer)
Electronic mail: irish_elf_princess07@yahoo.com
Designation: Somewhere I Belong
Summery: Ok my first fic, lest say that these wandering rogues who are ok people but they've got very bad reps. So when they show up in Mirkwood Thranduil decides to turn them over to what ever authorities, only someone looks very familiar. ;] Can you guess whom?
Rating: PG-13
Declaimer: I own nothing! Yes I'm just a poor hood-rat and Tolkin is God. I'm just playin' in his sandbox. "Somewhere I Belong" song, and lyrics belong to Linkin Park. This Story is not for profit.
Author's Note: First of all I got pressured into writing this. I don't think Thranduil is a bad guy, its just my sister can take off one or more of my limbs. There will be another fic coming soon, which puts Thranduil back in the good light.
Note on the Text: Elvis is translated in bold in between [ ]. **Memories** ~~Flashbacks~~
The elf boy looked familiar, he dressed entirely in black, black ragged tunic, black boots, black leggings, black, hooded cloak. He appeared to be no more then 170 years of age, the equivalent of a 18 year-old human. His bleak colored attire only jarred with his long tresses that looked like they had been spun from fine gold, caught up in a ponytail. His eyes were silvery-blue, and cold.
Cold as the bitterest day of winter.
He struggled viciously as he was dragged to the Thorin cell. It was more secure he and his others had proved that these types of rogues would need special surveillance.
Thranduil entered the cell and asked him. "Who are you, why are you in my kingdom?"
The young elf seemed as if he had been turned to stone. He would not speak, or even for a moment seemed not to breathe.
"Why did you threaten my people?" The King asked the anger clear in his voice.
The younger elf's eyes flashed with ire, "We didn't threaten anyone!" He said with rage, "We were just stopping for the night!"
"There's no reason to believe you," The Sovereign said, "Or any of the Daenore." [Shadow people]
The other wouldn't respond, he just stared coldly, the only thing about that seemed alive were his eyes. But even they were seemed clouded with ice, and, it seemed, a whisper of hidden anguish.
Fed up with this one Thranduil left. The prisoner seemed lifeless with something, some kind of grief, anger, and not belonging.
Electronic mail: irish_elf_princess07@yahoo.com
Designation: Somewhere I Belong
Summery: Ok my first fic, lest say that these wandering rogues who are ok people but they've got very bad reps. So when they show up in Mirkwood Thranduil decides to turn them over to what ever authorities, only someone looks very familiar. ;] Can you guess whom?
Rating: PG-13
Declaimer: I own nothing! Yes I'm just a poor hood-rat and Tolkin is God. I'm just playin' in his sandbox. "Somewhere I Belong" song, and lyrics belong to Linkin Park. This Story is not for profit.
Author's Note: First of all I got pressured into writing this. I don't think Thranduil is a bad guy, its just my sister can take off one or more of my limbs. There will be another fic coming soon, which puts Thranduil back in the good light.
Note on the Text: Elvis is translated in bold in between [ ]. **Memories** ~~Flashbacks~~
The elf boy looked familiar, he dressed entirely in black, black ragged tunic, black boots, black leggings, black, hooded cloak. He appeared to be no more then 170 years of age, the equivalent of a 18 year-old human. His bleak colored attire only jarred with his long tresses that looked like they had been spun from fine gold, caught up in a ponytail. His eyes were silvery-blue, and cold.
Cold as the bitterest day of winter.
He struggled viciously as he was dragged to the Thorin cell. It was more secure he and his others had proved that these types of rogues would need special surveillance.
Thranduil entered the cell and asked him. "Who are you, why are you in my kingdom?"
The young elf seemed as if he had been turned to stone. He would not speak, or even for a moment seemed not to breathe.
"Why did you threaten my people?" The King asked the anger clear in his voice.
The younger elf's eyes flashed with ire, "We didn't threaten anyone!" He said with rage, "We were just stopping for the night!"
"There's no reason to believe you," The Sovereign said, "Or any of the Daenore." [Shadow people]
The other wouldn't respond, he just stared coldly, the only thing about that seemed alive were his eyes. But even they were seemed clouded with ice, and, it seemed, a whisper of hidden anguish.
Fed up with this one Thranduil left. The prisoner seemed lifeless with something, some kind of grief, anger, and not belonging.