Chapter 1
Strange Guests from Afar

"What took you so long?" Auranor asked Nestellon when he arrived back at Rivendell. She sprung up from the white stone bench she was sitting on and ran over to her comrade. "I have been here for quite some time waiting for you."

"Well, you had quite the head start, now didn't you?" Nestellon pointed out sarcastically. "I must admit, however, that you have become quite a fast runner. I remember when you would call out to me to slow down. But now, it is I who may be forced to call out to you."

"I think you have lost out little bet," Auranor agitated. "You are obligated to kiss the next dwarf we see."

"Well, thankfully, the chances of seeing a dwarf around Rivendell are very…" his comment drifted off as both of the elves directed their attention to the path leading to the great gates of Rivendell. In the distance, they could see a very short man with an exceptionally long, scraggily, brown beard and abundance of other facial hair. He was accompanied by a group of three equally short and hairy men; one whose hair resembled his, and two whose hair shown a silvery gray in the sun, and many years of wisdom shown in their wrinkles and eyes.

Nestellon blinked his eyes in disbelief, and looked back at Auranor. "Do my eyes deceive me?" he breathed to her.

"I do believe those are dwarves I see Nestellon," Auranor answered with amusement.

"You weren't serious about the little bet were you?" he asked her with a glint of horror in his voice.

"Well, I do believe that I am as astonished as you. I suppose the bet is off. I would not wish to kiss one of them myself if faced with the task," she answered him. "Dwarves in Rivendell? What sort of event does Lord Elrond have planned?" The two elves waited politely at the gate, disregarding past conflicts between Elves and Dwarves, as the dwarves approached. When they reached the elves, they were greeted warmly by their hosts.

"Hail Master Dwarves," Nestellon welcomed with a smile and outstretched hand. "Welcome to Rivendell."

"Aye, Master Elf. It is a pleasure to be welcomed so graciously into Lord Elrond's keep," replied a silver haired dwarf with a hearty voice. He extended his arm to Nestellon and was received with a friendly handshake. "I am Gloin, Lord of Erebor, of the Lonely Mountains. This is my son, Gimli," he said referring to one of the brown haired Dwarves.

"It is my pleasure to meet you both. I am Nestellon, healer and long time friend of Lord Elrond Half-elven," he said. He turned his head toward Auranor and bid her foreword. "This is Auranor, daughter of Thalion and Gailawen of the Woodland Realm, also a long time friend of Lord Elrond."

Auranor bowed her head with respect, closing her eyes at the memory of her parents. "It is a pleasure to welcome you to Rivendell," she said as she raised her head to look at the dwarves.

"Lord Elrond is expecting you. Please follow us. We shall take you to him," Nestellon declared and he opened the gates to the elven haven.

As they entered, the dwarves were taken aback by the breathtaking vista of Rivendell. The entirety of the establishment was set within a peaceful valley upon a large cleft at the base of the Lonely Mountains. Tranquil gardens accented by small waterscapes and flora of the most fair creation scattered the grounds. The dwelling itself was crafted with elaborate elven design and motif. The outer walls were of gray stone, and the tall doors of rich, dark wood. The intricate iron design on the doors was crafted with skill beyond even that of the dwarves. The company walked speechlessly into the home of Lord Elrond. Auranor cast a glance at Nestellon, both smirking over how impressed the dwarves seemed. They walked on through the great halls of Rivendell and were lead to Elrond's study where he waited.

"Do wait here Good Lords, and I will announce you to the Master of Rivendell," Nestellon said to the dwarves. He opened the study doors and did as he said. On cue, the dwarves strode into the room, and Nestellon walked back out. He shut the door behind him just as Lord Elrond bid his guests a welcome. Auranor looked at Nestellon with wide, curious eyes.

He replied with a smile and said, "You should go now and rest. You are tired from our adventure through the forest." With that, he nodded and bid Auranor farewell.

Auranor shrugged, and made her way back outside into the gardens. It was only early afternoon, and the evening meal would not be served until much later. She opened the door and walked down the three stone steps onto the stone path. On she strolled through Rivendell, enjoying the wonders of nature it kept. Soon, she came upon a small, tree-sheltered hollow graced by a small stream. Here, she set down her sword against a tree and rested herself upon the ground beside the stream with her back to a rock.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and cleared her mind. She could feel all of the spirits and forces of nature around her. The cool breeze played with her hair and caressed her soft face; the sweet smelling flowers calmed her mind; the stream sang to her a sad song of old lore.

She opened her eyes with a sorrowful sigh. The earlier reminder of her past, though happening over two thousand years ago, still haunted her mind as if it had happened only yesterday. It was still a painful memory to her. First, her father had been killed, then her mother had died of a broken heart. A tragedy like that was enough to scar anyone's heart for all eternity.

Auranor remembered it so vividly. Every time she saw something that triggered the memory, she felt her heart sink to her stomach, and almost became sick with sorrow. But she never cried. Only when she suffered the initial loss did she shed a tear, and at that time, her tears could have flooded the Anduin. She herself almost lost her battle with grief, but forced herself to keep living. Her heart became numb to such sorrow, and she kept to herself all negative emotions. The scar in her heart was so deep, but she tried with all of her will to ignore it.

Auranor opened her eyes and shook herself out of her trance. She looked around at the scenery, forgetting that she was outside. Not sure of how long she had been thinking, Auranor quickly rose and collected her sword. She ran to the path and looked up at the sun. It was mid afternoon, however, she still ran back to Lord Elrond's house with haste, for she had a strange feeling that someone was in trouble.

When she reached the dwelling, she came upon the scene of a frightened and worried looking Arwen, carrying the body of what appeared to be a Halfling.

"What is wrong Arwen?" Auranor asked as she ran to her friend's side.

"He has been stabbed with a Morgul blade, and is quickly passing into the shadows. He won't last much longer. Run! Get my father! Hurry!" Arwen spoke rapidly as she clutched the Hobbit tighter, her voice trembling slightly.

Without another word, Auranor ran to Lord Elrond's study and, without knocking, burst open the doors. As usual, Lord Elrond was sitting at a table with a roll of parchment and a quill. He looked up at her with surprise.

"My Lord, Arwen has returned, but with a badly wounded Halfling. He has been stabbed by a Morgul blade and is quickly passing," she said quickly.

Without a word, Lord Elrond shot up from his seat and dashed to the front gate where Arwen was waiting. Auranor decided it best to fetch Nestellon, beings that he was Elrond's personal healer. She found him in his chamber where she expected he would be, and told him of the news.

Nestellon dropped the quill he was writing with and ran to the door, but stopped before he went any further. "Prepare an athelas ointment and bring it to the third chamber past the Great Hall," he ordered, and was gone.

She did as she was told with haste, and sped to the instructed room. There, Arwen, though no where to be found, had lain the Hobbit on the bed. Lord Elrond and Nestellon were examining the wound.

"The wound is deep, and the poison spreads quickly," Elrond said.

"But thankfully, the blade has missed his heart," Nestellon replied.

Auranor cleared her throat, not wishing to interrupt, but knowing the severity of the situation. The threat on the Hobbit's life was great. The two elves met her gaze, and Nestellon beckoned her to the bedside. He reached out for the athelas paste, and spread it all over the open stab wound. The Hobbit, though seemingly unconscious, wheezed in a deep breath and winced as the ointment seeped into the gash.

The she-elf looked down at the poor Hobbit with pity and concern. His icy blue eyes were glazed over and filmy. The skin of his face looked ghostly pale, and his curly brown hair was soaked with sweat. She gazed at the wound. It was, indeed, very deep. She could see a spidery cluster of blue veins under his thin, pale skin. She shuddered at the sight of it.

"Thank you Auranor," Lord Elrond told her, pulling her attention from the Hobbit. "We shall be able to care for him from here."

Auranor nodded, and set the remainder of the ointment on the bed side table. She gazed at the Hobbit one last time as she walked out the door, saying a silent prayer to the Valar for him. She could hear Elrond and Nestellon chanting a healing prayer in Elvish as she shut the door.

She decided that it was a wise decision to find Arwen and make sure she was well. Slowly, Auranor made her way to Arwen's chamber, her mind straying toward the Halfling. How is it that he came to be stabbed by a Morgul blade? Why were the Nazgul after a Hobbit? Perhaps Arwen would know.

When she came to Arwen's chamber, Auranor stood outside the doorway and asked quietly. "Arwen? Are you there? It is Auranor."

"Just a moment," Arwen whispered from within. She soon appeared at the doorway, and bid Auranor enter. Auranor followed Arwen over to the sitting area by the open, arched pillar wall. She sat down beside Arwen, sensing that her friend was troubled. Both stayed in silence, staring out beyond the silky drapes. The cool evening breeze rippled through the curtains, and the sky outside grew darker with the sun set. They could see a few pale stars beginning to shine as the colors in the sky faded from orange to blue to indigo.

"You are concerned for the Halfling, are you not?" Auranor finally asked Arwen.

"Yes," Arwen replied with a sigh. "Frodo bears with him a heavy burden that is not his to bear."

"Frodo? Frodo Baggins? The nephew that Bilbo has spoken so highly of?" Auranor asked.

"Yes, Frodo Baggins," Arwen answered.

"What is it that he bears with him that the Nazgul desire so? Surely it cannot be what I fear it is?" Auranor asked with concern. "It cannot be the One Ring?"

"Yes, it is the One Ring," Arwen said solemnly. "The one thing that has been lost for so long; the one thing that we so fear in the hands of the enemy; the one thing holds all of the evil of Sauron. It rests, for now, in the care of Frodo Baggins." She closed her eyes trying to blink away tears. But the tears came despite her will.

Auranor stood up and walked over to Arwen. She bent over and embraced her friend in a strong, sisterly hug. "Do not worry. Frodo will be alright. Your father and Nestellon are the most skilled of all Elven healers. They will care for him. They will not allow him to slip into the shadows." She pulled away from Arwen and looked her in the eyes. "Besides, if Frodo is nearly as strong and good-hearted as Bilbo says he is, there is no chance of him falling into the darkness."

Arwen looked back at Auranor and a small smile grew across her face. "Thank you," Arwen said, leaning back into her with a hug.

"Dear Arwen, do not let this worry you so. You should clean up and prepare for the evening meal. Worrying will solve nothing," Auranor said to her reassuringly.

"I will do that," Arwen replied with a grateful smile to her friend.

And with that, Auranor made her way to the door. She paused before she left, looking back at Arwen. "Know that you can talk to me whenever you need to," she said. Arwen nodded her head, and Auranor left the room.

It was true, the evening meal was drawing near, and Auranor was still in her armor. She retreated to her own room and began to ready herself. Quickly, she removed all of her armor and washed up. Then she donned a beautiful velvet dress of forest green that flowed with her every move, showing the soft, golden silk underskirt. Auranor brushed her hair, letting it flow down over her shoulders. Finally, she looked in the mirror and was satisfied. Auranor left the room, heading down to the Dining Hall for dinner.

As Auranor entered the Great Hall, she was greeted by a familiar voice. "I see you no longer recognize your old friends."

Auranor turned around to find a pair of sparkling blue eyes staring down at her and a warm smile encompassed by a long gray beard. "Mithrandir!" she cried. "Is it really you?"

"Aye, it is so," he said.

Auranor rushed towards him, surrounding him in a large hug. "It has been so long since I have last seen you," she said as she released him from the embrace.

"Aye, it has been quite some time," Gandalf replied. "Shall we?" he asked, offering an arm to Auranor, escorting her into the Great Hall.

Dinner progressed as usual, with Elrond at the head of the long table. On either side of Elrond sat his two sons, Elladan and Elrohir. Gandalf sat to the right of Elladan, and the four Dwarves sat to the left of Elrohir. Arwen and Auranor sat across from the Dwarves and beside Gandalf. A multitude of other elves surrounded the remainder of the great table. Nestellon, however, was absent from the feast. Auranor supposed he was still attending to Frodo. During the post meal entertainment, Elrond invited Auranor to sing for the company, as he always did.

After politely accepting a round of applause, Auranor descended from the performance platform and made her way to the door. She walked out onto the terrace and over to the balcony.

As she leaned her arms on the rail, she looked out over at the valley below. It was a breathtaking view, even at night. Auranor could see the running waters on the mighty Bruinen. Across the river, the forest could just be seen in the darkness. She turned her gaze toward the heavens, and was greeted by a luminous array of twinkling stars. She picked out the constellations Menelyagor in the east. Above her, Earendil, most beloved and cherished star of the Elves, sparkled brightly.

"It's a beautiful night," a voice said behind her.

"Indeed, it is a beautiful night," she replied with a sigh.

"Something is bothering you my dear," he said as he walked to her side.

"Yes Mithrandir," she said, expecting that he would sense her trouble. "I revisited some memories of my parents today." She paused, looking up at the sky.

Gandalf understood what she was feeling. He put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly and said, "Just because they are not standing beside you does not mean that they are not here." Auranor looked up at him questioningly. "They are always with you," the wizard said as he patted his heart with a twinkle of wisdom in his eyes.

Auranor smiled sadly at Gandalf and gave him a large hug. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

"You are most welcome," he smiled down at her. The two stood in silence, enjoying the view of Rivendell.

"Mithrandir?" Auranor asked suddenly. "May I ask you about something else that has been on my mind?"

"You are concerned for Frodo also," he said.

"Yes, I am," she replied, not surprised that he already knew her question. "Why does he have the One Ring? What is going to be done with it?"

"All will reveal itself in due time," Gandalf replied. He bowed his head to Auranor, and returned to the Great Hall. Auranor sighed, unsatisfied with the answer, and disappeared to her room for the night.

When Auranor awoke, the next morning, she was greeted by the warm sun on her face and the melodies of the song birds. She lounged in bed for a while, enjoying the atmosphere. Then, suddenly, her mind deviated to Frodo. Auranor sprung out of bed, put on her fighting pants, shirt, and boots, and hurried down to Frodo's room.

Nestellon and Elrond were both beside the bed, tending to Frodo's wound. Auranor walked into the room and looked down at him. She noticed that he looked much better than he had the day before. He had some color back in his face, and was sleeping peacefully. The wound was still bruised, but healing nicely. She smiled down at the sleeping Hobbit, glad to see that he was doing better.

"He will be just fine," Nestellon said to her. "He just needs rest."

"I am glad to see that," Auranor replied happily. "Does Arwen know that he is well?" she asked Elrond.

"Yes, she was down earlier. She did not sleep well, and needed to know that he was alright," Elrond answered.

"That is good to know," Auranor said.

"Aragorn and the other Hobbits arrived late last night," Nestellon said.

"Aragorn is here?" Auranor exclaimed. "Where is he?"

"He is still asleep. It was a long, tiring journey, and he needs rest," Nestellon answered.

"Well, after he wakes and visits Arwen, tell him that I am looking for him," Auranor said with mischief showing on her face.

"Oh, I will be sure to let him know," Nestellon replied.

"Good. Well, I have sword training to do. I best be off. Let me know when Frodo wakes. Good day to the both of you." Just as Auranor left the room, she heard Lord Elrond call after her from the door.

"Yes, My Lord," she answered, turning to face him.

"I know you have been worrying about the Ring that Frodo bears and what will be done with it. I can see it in your eyes. Once Frodo has awakened, I will hold a council. I have summoned the leaders of the free peoples of Middle Earth to Rivendell to decide the fate of the One Ring," he told her.

"So that is why the Dwarves are here," she said understandingly.

"Yes, that is why the Dwarves are here. There are men coming from Gondor and other kingdoms," Elrond paused. "I am also expecting guests from Mirkwood."

Auranor looked up at him in surprise. "Mirkwood?"

"Yes, which is part of the reason why I would like you to be in attendance at this council. I also think you may be a valuable mind to have present in this situation," he told her.

"Guests from Mirkwood…" Auranor thought out loud, forgetting his request. "…Forgive me Lord Elrond. I am most honored to attend this council."

"I am glad then," Elrond replied. "After Frodo wakes, I shall decide when exactly this council will meet, but it must be soon."

"Yes My Lord. The One Ring is not a topic on which to delay. A great decision must be made with haste," she added.

"Yes. That it must," he said, and with a nod, returned to Frodo's bedside.

Guests from Mirkwood…how long it had been since she had seen or heard of her home. Her parents, yes she had thought about them, but Mirkwood itself. She made her way to the armory, her thoughts hooked on her past home. She could barely remember the beauty of the deep forest. The Woodland Realm, her true home. Had it changed? Yes, she had heard the stories of the dreaded Dol Guldur and the evil it harbored, but what of the lands yet untouched by that evil? Were they as lovely as she remembered?

Suddenly, she felt herself bump into something hard, and was snapped back to her senses. In front of her stood Elladan with a befuddled look on his face.

"Are you well, My Lady," he asked her with concern. "Has your hearing and sight failed you?"

"Oh, I am so sorry Elladan. My mind was elsewhere," she replied, slightly embarrassed.

"Are you up for a fight?" he asked her, knowing what her answer would be.

"Of course I am! Why do you think I came here?" she replied with a sly grin.

"Then gather your arms and wits, and prepare for a battle that you will most certainly loose," he challenged with a spark of excitement in his eyes. Elladan was a superb warrior, and had insured that Auranor knew all that he had to offer along the lines of sword fighting.

"You had better run then, for I will undoubtedly catch you and make you tremble at my mercy," she cackled, and ran to fetch her sword.

"We shall see, My Lady, who the victor of this battle will be," he taunted back as he took off at a silent run. Before he had time to set a decent pace, Auranor was on his heels, threatening to brandish him with her sword if she caught up.

They reached their favorite fighting spot, and were soon joined by Elrohir. The three battled playfully for quite some time before finally collapsing upon the ground with fatigue.

"Well Auranor, I am quite surprised at how well you have held up with both of us swinging at you," Elrohir said jovially. "I thought for sure you would have given in long ago."

"Elrohir, I think you should know me well enough by now to realize that I don't give up so easily," she said teasingly.

"Yes dear brother," Elladan said to Elrohir. "I am not even that dimwitted to think that she would give up like that." The three elves made their way back to the armory, conversing happily as they walked through the forest.

Auranor entered the armory with the two brothers and they replaced their weapons. As Auranor was about to store her sword, she noticed quiet breathing behind her. In one swift move, she drew her sword and spun around to meet her adversary, blade poised to attack. Her sword clashed with another as she was met face to face with him. A ruggedly handsome man with shoulder length brown hair, a small amount of unkempt, shaggy facial hair, and piercing blue eyes stood opposite her, his sword locked with hers.

"You should know by now that it is impossible for a man to sneak up on an elf. Elf ears greatly surpass the aural abilities of men," she said to the man as she stared him down with narrowed eyes.

"I was not testing your hearing, but the skill of your sword," said the man. "Hearing for miles may help you avoid danger, but when danger is upon you, you hearing will not save you."

"So you wish to test my skill," she challenged. "Then have at!"

She lunged forward with a stab, and he parried accordingly. The man retaliated with a slice to her neck then her abdomen, both of which she blocked. Auranor then shot an upward slice between his legs, which he luckily blocked.

"That would have been quite a cheap shot had it hit," the man said with a relieved snicker.

"Cheap, but in a situation of need, it would have done what I had intended it to do," Auranor replied with a flicker in her eyes. They fought on, slash after slash, block after block, until they finally locked swords with each other in a draw. Out of breath, the two stared each other down.

"You have learned much since last we met Auranor," the man said.

"Yes Aragorn, I have. It seems to me that I am now your equal," she replied with a smile. Aragorn smiled and laughed heartily. The two drew back and replaced their swords.

"Auranor, you would do well if faced with danger. My sword has killed many, but none as skilled as you," Aragorn said sincerely.

"Aragorn, na-maer tirio lle," Auranor said, embracing Aragorn in a large hug. He returned the gesture warmly and smiled at the elf.

"And it is good to see you my friend," he replied. "It has been too long since the last that we clashed blades in friendly combat." Auranor giggled at that, and placed her sword on its proper rack.

"Yes, that it has," she agreed. "How have you been as of late?"

"As well as I can be," he replied. "I have roamed far and wide, then back again. My travels have taken me many places, but it feels good to be back." The two conversed over events that had happened in his absence and as they walked slowly back to Elrond's home. Aragorn told of his adventures, and Auranor listened with great interest.

"I wish that I could accompany you on one of those adventures. I want to know what it is like to live in the wilderness, surrounded only by nature and its many secrets," she imagined. "I want to know what it is like to live with danger around every corner."

"It is not an adventure for fun. Great danger is around every bend, and you are the only one on your side against it. There is no one there to help you; you are completely alone, relying only upon your own skill. It is life or death," he said.

"I know I could handle it. I am not your typical elf woman Aragorn. You know that."

"The wild is unforgiving and merciless. It takes pity on no one."

"And that is how I like it," Auranor said with a smile.

"You just don't give up do you, Sister," he said, shaking his head.

"No I do not, Brother," she replied. Both were silent for a moment. Then Auranor asked, "You really do look after me as if I were your sister, Aragorn, don't you?"

"You are the closest thing to a sister I have ever had," he said with a smile. "Of course I look after you as such."

"I am glad to have you for a big brother," she replied genuinely, even though her age greatly succeeded his.

Aragorn smiled back, "And I am glad to have you for a little sister." As they entered the gates of Rivendell, they were met by four golden haired elves.

"Where are they from?" she asked Aragorn.

"I recognize the one on the right," he said. "He is Legolas, Prince of the Woodland Realm."

"They are from Mirkwood?" she asked, surprised. Elrond had told her that he was expecting guests from Mirkwood, but she did not expect them to arrive so soon. She hadn't even had time ponder the idea. Aragorn made his way up to the elves with Auranor following.

"Hail friends of the Woodland Realm! Welcome to Rivendell." he said to them in Elvish.

Legolas walked to Aragorn with an outstretched arm. "Im gelir tirio lle ad nin meldir." They grasped each other's forearm with a friendly squeeze.

Auranor watched the elf with interest. He was quite handsome. His long and golden hair was much like her own, and partially tied back in a braid that flowed down his back and behind the tips of his gracefully pointed ears. His dusty blue eyes sparkled with joy as he spoke to Aragorn. Auranor studied his features, tracing a line from his strong jaw up to the point of his ears with her eyes. He caught her staring at him, and she looked away quickly, pretending she was extremely interested in a flowed beside her foot.

"Who is your friend Aragorn?" Legolas asked, looking strangely at her unladylike attire.

"Oh, forgive me for not introducing her," Aragorn replied. "This is Auranor, daughter of Thalion and Gailawen of your realm. Auranor, this is Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Your Highness," Auranor said as she bowed her head.

"The pleasure is all mine, My Lady. Please call me Legolas. There is no need to see me as a prince. I wish to be seen as a common elf, not a royal," he said to her kindly.

"As you wish My Lord," she said.

"Allow me to usher you and your kin into Lord Elrond's keep," Aragorn said. The elves and man strolled through Rivendell, as Auranor had with Nestellon and the Dwarves.

Legolas and Aragorn talked happily and the other elves of his kin chatted amongst themselves. Auranor walked silently, secretly listening to Aragorn and the elf prince with great interest.

"Aragorn said that you are from my homeland," Legolas said to Auranor.

She snapped out of her own thoughts. "Yes, I am from Mirkwood," she said, trying to push the sad memories from her mind, but knowing that she would have to share them with her company.

"I recognize your father's name, but fail to clearly remember any more. If you are from Mirkwood, then I must have met you before. I make it a point to know all the people of my realm," he inquired.

"I have not been to the Woodland Realm for centuries," she said. "My parents were friends with King Thranduil. My father was a Captain in the army, and my mother, a maiden of the court."

"If your parents are close to my father, then why do you live here in Rivendell?" he asked.

"My father was killed by orcs and my mother died of a broken heart afterwards. Your father sent me here for my own safety, and I have not had the heart to return," she said sadly.

"Oh," Legolas said, regretting that he had asked. "I am sorry that I caused you to relive that memory."

"It still hurts to remember, but I have grown used to it, especially of late," she said, looking at the ground. "But do not despair. You only asked a simple question, and I answered. It is not a thing to worry over." She looked back at him with a small smile, hoping that he did not feel badly for his inquiry.

Auranor watched the elf, feeling that she had met him before, and knowing that he felt the same. 'But he is the Prince of Mirkwood,' she thought. 'You may have been closely associated with the royals, but you couldn't possibly have met the prince."

The group continued to their destination in silence, and Auranor and Aragorn departed their own ways. Auranor went to her own room to change out of her armor. She adorned a silk, lilac dress with sleeves that flowed off the shoulders in gentle waves of fabric. It danced about her in the cool breeze like the bought of the trees. She then tied her hair back in two braids that framed her face and met at the back of her head.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps approach her room, and stop outside her door. "Yes, please come in," she said before the visitor could ask to enter.

She turned to greet her guest, finding that it was Nestellon. "Auranor," he said anxiously. "Frodo has awakened."

Response to Reviews

Seriously Wrong – If you don't like the story, then that is fine, don't read it. But there is no need to rip on it. A little respect goes a long way. Any true author already knows that, and has a respect for those who delight in the same art because they understand how difficult it is to be a writer. They give their opinion through constructive criticism, but they still respect the work of their fellow authors. You wouldn't walk into the Louvre and start scribbling all over the Mona Lisa just because you thought it sucked, would you? Then again, maybe you would.

Saber Apricot – Thanks for the help! I always appreciate constructive criticism because it helps me learn from my mistakes, and I really respect people who offer such advice. Don't take all of this as retaliation to criticism; I just want to clarify a few things. Aruanor is, indeed, a very untypical character for a female elf because I did the corny "build the character from your own traits" sort of thing. Auranor is a bit of a reflection of myself by being the warrior because I have taken karate for almost 11 years. I thought it would be different and interesting to put that type of character in the story, and help me a little in writing it since I can relate to her personality. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a feminazi, but I always appreciate a female character, such as Eowen, who is strong and can hold her own. As for the hair and eyes, I thought I read somewhere that the Elves did have blue eyes, and it was thought that the Mirkwood elves were possibly blonde. I didn't just do that because of the movie. I'm not sure if I'll change that though because it is kind of my way of setting Legolas and Auranor apart by being physically different. I'm not sure how big of a deal that will be later though. I wasn't sure what to call Auranor other than she-elf. I was flipping through my Sindarian language tools and the only real thing I found for a female elf was she-elf. I thought of elf maiden, but didn't want to overuse the term, as I tend to do at times. I don't know if the stones in the swords will be significant or not because I'm writing this as I go, and I don't really have a concrete plan for it. I know Auranor will have some sort of larger role in the outcome of the story, but nothing along the lines of directly helping Frodo like Sam does. Like I said, I'm writing as I go. Auranor talking back was a little of my personality creeping into the character again. Rivendell was not meant to be a "fantasyland" escape from reality, but more of a way of getting her away from Mirkwood and the memories attached. I see Rivendell as a very tranquil place with an almost healing atmosphere to it. I explain this briefly later on in the story, but intend to progress what the readers discover about her past through the entire tale. King Thranduil sent her there because he believed that she would constantly be reminded of her parents if she stayed in Mirkwood. He feared for her life and sent her to Rivendell almost as a way of trying to eliminate that from happening to her by giving her an opportunity to heal her heart without constant reminders of the event. Auranor just never really returned to Mirkwood because she feared that actually returning to her old home would destroy her, even though she acts rather unemotionally. The memory still pains her greatly, but she is attempting to not let it bother her too much. She is a confusing character and, again, I think that is a little of my own personality leaking into her. Perhaps she is too human to be an elf. Thank you for the comments! I would appreciate it if you kept reading as I post things because I can use all the help I can get. I just hope that you don't think I'm a complete moron for writing LOTR legomance fiction. Many people think than and automatically start ripping on the author. I just hope you don't get annoyed with it because it's probably going to be a little cheesy. By the way, you definitely fall under the true author category I mentioned above.