Summary: Aralin is a female Elfliving in Mirkwood. She's not much of a lady and she likes fighting Orcs more than doing girly stuff. But she holds a dark secret, one she hasn't been able to share with anyone. When she joins the Fellowship on their doomed quest will she be able to accept help when it is given? Or will she fall back into old habits? It's better than it sonuds!! Really!! And I will die before this story turns into a Mary-Sue!! Aralin is in no way a perfect Elf. She's based on me, and I'm definitely not at all perfect.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters, I just steal- I mean borrow..yeah, that's right...borrow them when it suits my evil purposes. But I always give them back. looks around nervously Almost always...

This is my first fic on this site, so please be nice. And if you must flame,just knowthat I'll only use them to make flaming arrows which I'll shot right back at you. You were warned.

Chapter 1

The leaves barely made a sound as Aralin leaped through the trees. The pursuing Orcs trampled noisily through the woods, making their presence known with every step. Then again, unlike Aralin, they weren't trying to mask their presence. They were over confident in their size, strength and numbers. And that would be their downfall.

Satisfied with the distance she put between herself and the Orcs, Aralin notched and arrow to her bow and let it loose. In the space of a few seconds, she had shot 7 arrows, and all 7 had hit their mark. Slinging her bow over her shoulder, she jumped to another branch before the Orcs could discern her whereabouts from the arrow attacks. She saw a shorter tree in front of her and in a seconds time, gauged the distance of the jump she would need to do in order to safely make it on the tree. Without hesitating, she gathered her strength and leaped in the air. The tree was shorter than her last perch by about 15 feet, and as she flew through the air, doubts began to surface. What if she misjudged? What if she didn't make it to the tree and fell, injuring herself and making easy prey for the Orcs? But as soon as the doubts surfaced, she pushed them back. There was no room for emotions or doubts in battle. As her feet touched the tree's branch, she couldn't help but emit a small sigh of relief. In one smooth motion, she notched an arrow to her bow and shot. Within moments, no less than 12 Orcs were dead, hit by her stream of arrows. Not wanting to waste precious ammunition, she stepped off her branch and proceeded to free-fall to the earth. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she crouched and held the hilt of her blade at the ready. The remaining Orcs didn't wait to attack her. She let them surround her in a large circle before she even looked up. When she did look up, a look of fierce determination was in her emerald eyes.

"Look what we 'ave 'ere boys!" one of the Orcs called out. "An Elf wench, w'o thinks she can fight! I wonder if she can even use that blade in 'er 'and! Don't think she even knows 'ow t' unsheath it!"

In a fluid motion, she unsheathed her sword, using her momentum to spin her in a circle as she did so, slicing the first line of surrounding Orcs in half at their waists. The remaining Orcs backed up in shock, but got their bearings back and lunged at her. She blocked the stroke of one and twisted her sword so the Orc was defenseless and she stabbed him quickly in the gut. Turning, she slashed up at another, who didn't even have time to block before he fell dead. Letting her momentum move her, she twisted and slashed down at another unlucky Orc, nearly slicing him in two. An Orc managed to get behind her and swung his sword down to attack, when she pivoted on the ball of her foot and easily dodged, delivering a clean slash to his mid section. The remaining four Orcs ran at her with a swiftness she didn't know they possessed. Taking no chances, she grabbed a small dagger and threw it at the closest Orc, killing him instantly. The last three she killed with quick stabs and slashes. Finally, when all the Orcs were dead, Aralin began the time consuming task of taking them all and making a pile, so their remains could be burnt.

After setting fire to the dead Orcs, she wiped her blade on the grass and started the long trek back home. Her father wouldn't be too pleased when he found out where his eldest daughter had been for the past 3 hours. He hated the idea of his daughter patrolling for Orcs, hated the idea of her running around the woods in a tunic and leggings, hated the idea of her fighting and killing when she could be doing so many other "productive" things with her time, such as singing and dancing and cooking. .

Aralin didn't understand why her father was so strict with her. It wasn't as if she were the only daughter he had. She had a younger sister, Anariel, who was just like every other Elf maiden. So it wasn't as if he failed at raising a daughter. Aralin didn't think it was so bad that she felt much more comfortable in a tunic and leggings than he did in a dress. She didn't think it was so bad that she enjoyed practicing her skills with weapons than dancing.

By the time she got back to Rivendell, the sun had just begun it's descent from the sky. She knew her father would be worrying about her, so she decided to see him first before changing into more suitable clothing that wasn't stained with Orc blood. "Adar!" (Father) Her father rushed out of his chambers to see her, and stood in shock when he did.

"By the Valar!" he gasped. "What happened!?" Aralin looked herself over and shrugged.

"I ran into some Orcs."

"Are you hurt?"

"No, they couldn't even get close enough to touch me." she replied, unable to help the pride she felt coming out in her voice. Her father sighed.

"Aralin, why do you insist on gallivanting off to fight Orcs? You are not a man! You are a female!"

"What does it matter if I am male or female? Why can't you be proud of me? I just slaughtered a host of Orcs without getting injured, with no help from anyone else, and all you can say is how I should stop fighting Orcs because I'm female?! I'm stronger than most men in Rivendell!"

"I am proud of you, but I am proud of you as a father is of a son. I wish to be proud of you as a father is of a daughter. You are my daughter! Not my son! And I think of your future. What man would want to marry a woman who can shoot an arrow better than he can!?"

"Adar, didn't it occur to you once that I don't care about marriage? I have no need of a husband. I do not wish for children. I only wish to travel all of Middle-Earth. Go places where no one else dares to go. Having a husband and children will only slow me down."

"Aralin, I only want the best for you. I do not wish to hear about your death in some unnamed country at the hands of some fell beast. I only want you to be happy and safe."

"But Adar, I am most happy when I am not safe and you do not seem to understand that." with that said, she bowed her head respectfully and went to her own chambers. She passed her sister, Anariel, and for a moment, tears threatened to spill from her eyes. All elves were beautiful by nature, but her sister's beauty rivaled even that of the Evenstar's. Her hair fell in golden ripples down her back, and her eyes sparkled like sapphires. She wore feminine dresses and always had a smile upon her face. Aralin was almost a complete opposite. And she had always been jealous of Anariel for possessing what she herself lacked. She never looked nearly as beautiful and feminine in a dress. She always managed to look like a male Elf in disguise as a female. Her own ebony hair had none of the waves her sister had. It was all too straight and plain. And Anariel had curves. Aralin's figure was hard, angular, and slightly muscular whereas her sister possessed just the sort of soft curves that made her incredibly appealing to the opposite sex. Anariel had already been involved with a few male Elves, she had already been kissed. Aralin was older than her by a few centuries and she had yet to be embraced in a more than congenial way.

Yes, she was jealous. It was a jealousy that she kept deep inside herself, but at times it seeped to the surface. And she hated herself for it. What sort of a sister was she?

"I overheard you and Adar." her sister said softly. Even Anariel's voice was soft and beautiful.

"He has never approved of my actions. Our conversation was not a new one." her own voice sounded gruff and manly when compared with her sister's. Stop that! She is your sister and you have no right to be jealous!

"Perhaps if you made an attempt to please him. Wear a dress once in a while. Let your hair loose. Be more feminine!"

"I shouldn't have to do any of that for him to be happy with me! He should be happy no matter what I choose to do!"

"He loves you Aralin! As do I! We only want what is best for you!" Anariel cowered slightly under her sister's furious gaze.

"And how would you know better than I what is best for me?" she hissed. "I, and I alone, know what is best for me!" with that, she stormed past Anariel and closed the door to her chambers. Once she was alone, she took a deep breathe and composed herself, pushing all her emotions aside, as she always did. Warriors had no need for useless emotions. She sat on her window seat and stared out at her beautiful city. She stared out her window blankly until she felt the familiar beginnings of sadness sneak up on her again. Her throat felt thick with repressed sobs and her eyes stung with tears unshed.

As she sat there, she wished for, more than anything, someone to embrace her. Some one to listen to her, someone who would not pass judgement on her. What she wanted was a friend. In all her long years, she never really had a true friend, one she could trust with all her secrets. And she knew why. She could never bring herself to become truly close with anyone. She wanted solitude while at the same time she wanted friendship. It was a situation she had dealt with for much of her life. But it had become much worse since-

No. Aralin shook her head, banishing the thoughts that would consume her if she let them. Never think of that. A knock at her door startled her and she looked up. Her sister was standing in the doorway, apprehensive about entering. Aralin sighed. "Come in."

"No, there is no need. Adar wished me to inform you that your presence is required in a council tomorrow."

"A council?" her brow furrowed. "What sort of council?" Anariel shook her head.

"I know not. Lord Elrond said your particular knowledge would be needed." she closed the door and left, leaving Aralin to her thoughts. A council? How odd. Just then, a movement outside caught her eye and she looked out the window. A group of Elves were entering Imladris.

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