Another difference between the protagonist here and the one in Shieldmaiden, isn't just the self-insert, but the age. The date at the beginning of the story is Y.T 13, 384, the year Estela was born- roughly a year after her 'begetting'. This would make her around thirty-one (still considered a child in elven standards) by the time of Melkor's release in Y.T 13, 415, but not as small as in Shieldmaiden.

To VanyaNoldo22: Hantanyel! Oh, it's not going to be easy. Estela knows this. Part of the reason she's making herself into an adorable baby (apart from the fact that she doesn't want her parents and family to feel deprived) is for them to forge a bond. They'll soon start to notice that she's a very precicious baby- even by the standards of the elves, but she needs them to trust her.

That doesn't mean that she will be able to change everything, though. And let's be frank here, this comes at a price.

To Tibblets: Thank you! Just wait and see what's in store for her during the War of the Ring. If you only knew! ;) Some parts are going to be quite funny!

TO ALL READERS: I have to make time gaps in order to move the plot along but I'm doing my best not to spoil the pacing and storyline.

I hated being small. I loathed being immobile.

In my first life, I didn't remember. In my second, oh, that had been all too painful.

Getting squeezed out was only the first trial. When I was born, I lived in beautiful Dorne. But forget the Water Gardens, that would come generations later with the marriage of the first Daenerys, sad to admit, but true. No, I grew up in Sunspear.

And then Daeron the Young Dragon came barging in, bringing the host of the Seven Kingdoms with him, and attempting to subjugate an eighth. I had gathered as many a host of Dornish fighters, showing the Young Dragon what it meant to be fighting against a guerilla force, but he still got us anyway. And so, Sunspear was opened, but we never made any promises, nor did we plan to.

And then Daeron set his eyes on me, the youngest Martell and it was a case of one-thing-led-to-another. We fell in love, simply put. I loved him, even as I hated what he had done to our country.

We were going to be married- until an assassin swooped in and killed us both. I was never the queen of the Seven Kingdoms, so don't get your hopes up. The first Dornish queen was Mariah Martell, she married Daeron 'the Good' a few generations afterwards.

And then I was born again. Hogwarts. This was in this life. This was where the magic began.

Not the freaky stuff the Red Priests and Priestesses did, but real magic. I soaked it all up like a sponge, or swallowed everything like an alcoholic presented with Dornish reds, Arbor golds and the sweet wines of the Reach, Tyroshi pear brandy and more. I learned magic as much as I could. I was eager to learn more. Was it any wonder I was sorted into Ravenclaw (I was a hatstall- almost got into Slytherin).

But the horror, carnage and destruction of my second life burned deep within my heart and soul. I never took a boyfriend during my time in Hogwarts. I threw myself deep into my studies. I enjoyed watching Quidditch, but never dreamt about playing it. I avoided the 'golden trio' as much as possible. I was eager to help them but from the sidelines, hidden as if I had my own invisibility cloak. I didn't want anyone interfering, not even Dumbledore. Due to the exceedingly appalling and poor teaching of Severus Snape, I asked for private potion lessons, which my father readily agreed to after hearing of Snape's methods, and so I learnt to make Blood-replenishing potion, Pepper-Up potion, draughts, essences, solutions, antidotes, elixirs, heck, even Sleekeazy's hair potion. If I lacked ingredients, there was a secret to that. Just as it is in the kitchen, what most potioneers didn't know was that there were substitutes with potion ingredients just as there were culinary ones. I became an expert at charms and duelling too, transfiguration I was competent enough, though Arithmancy drove me crazy, and I researched as much about other topics as I possibly could. I had a feeling that I might- might have enjoyed Divination too, if Trelawny wasn't outright nuts.

Hmm, now there was a thought.

And despite training as a healer or a mediwitch, nevertheless it was the end of everything when Bellatrix Lestrange blasted me dead.

My fourth life was also filled with magic. And there was something else. But I didn't get why magic took such a great deal out of your own energy. Then I understood. Wandless magic. Magic with no instruments. Of course, I felt tired after a day of wandwork, but I was always exhausted whenever I used too much magic. I needed a magical instrument.

A good thing I researched wandlore.

It was a good thing too, I learned how to sing to plants, shaping the trees in the way I wished. Although I learnt from Rhunön too, it wasn't my favourite subject, forging.

But I could use magic. I could store energy in gemstones, set pigments in slate and make fairths with my mind, I could cast wards around myself and sing to the metals as they were forged into weapons or even jewellery. I could sing to plants and in the end, I could have recreated Vrael's tree-house in Ellesméra if I so wanted.

But I added my knowledge to it all. In my previous life, I had been an expert potioneer, arithmancer (to an extent), diviner (again I had a limit there, Trelawney was a terrible teacher), charms master and could defend myself well enough using magic. Transfiguration was hard but I could also do it. And I was a herbologist, not to the same degree as Neville Longbottom but excellent enough. I applied my knowledge in the next life, with all the healing abilities I had. I became the healer for the Riders on Vroengard.

And had quite the relationship with Vrael.

Don't get me wrong: I'm no prude. But it literally took me a lifetime to recover from Daeron and even then, I was reluctant. The romance began as a tiny flirtation before he became Head Rider- and thank goodness, people would have snickered and gossiped about that- but then again, they did it anyway. Vrael was never untoward. But I knew what would happen.

So why should I get my hopes up?

Even when tending to an injured, almost comatose young Rider whom I learned, was named Galbatorix.

Quite the shock.

I opened my eyes and gazed at the stars.

Why? I wanted to know. Why do I have to keep repeating life? In different worlds no less? Was there any chance for happiness?

I was silent.

Ellesméra was a paradise, until Fall of the Riders. Hogwarts was a wonderland, a playground for those seeking to uncover mysteries and those who thirsted for knowledge. Westeros was… Well, it was a few dragons short of a Medieval-themed dystopia, but with its golden chivalrous moments. It might have seemed like the real Middle Ages, only with magic and what-not. A pity the dragons had been extinct by the time I got there.

And now I was in Arda- in Tolkien's world.

As a Fëanorian scion.

I groaned inwardly, tossing.

I was going to get more dreams, I was sure of it.

I saw Melkor toppled the Great Lamps.

The Valar froze and the Maiar stopped whatever they were doing.

Tulkas jumped to his feet, and so did Oromë. Manwë appeared before them and urged them to make haste; to go after Melkor.

But Melkor had already fled, trusting in the safety of Utumno.

The memory of the shrieks, screams, howls and pure, indescribable, utter horror of what lay within made me whimper and turn, shaking with fear in my sleep.

The vision shifted, moving to the stars high up above.

The stars for some reason, glowed brighter now. They were like no stars I had seen in any world, down on the ground.

And down below, a sea, so blue, clear and pure, its waters untainted by Melkor's foulness. There was a bay there. People lay, sleeping upon its shores.

They stirred. One of them woke, and gazed in awe and wonder at the maiden beside him who was slowly opening her eyes. She gazed at him, utterly entranced and captivated, as he was. Both were gold haired.

The next ones to wake, and gaze at each other in love, awe and wonder were a second couple, dark-haired I thought- it was at a distance. The third couple were silver-haired.

Teleri, I thought. Vanyarin and Ñoldorin by the looks of them.

Or rather Minyar, Tartyar and Nelyar, this was before the sundering of the elves.

I always wondered what happened to Imin, Iminyë, Tata, Tatië, Enel and Enelyë. Maybe I could ask Great-Grandfathers Finwë and Olwë someday, when my speech had further developed.

The first sight, Amil had told me as I was a baby lying in my crib, that these elf-maidens had were of their own spouses. Upon seeing the beauty of their wives, the three of them began thinking up words to describe their feelings and woke them. After they had devised as many words as possible, they would go forth.

But I saw them go forwards, seeking out their peoples. They came across six pairs of elves, sleeping blissfully, unaware of what was to come.

Imin the first one, claimed them as his own and woke them. After a while, they discovered their strength was sufficient and moved on. After the new elves had learned to speak and devised more words together, they prepared to head out

Next, they saw nine pairs of elves, sleeping in a wider hollow and Tata the second-eldest, claimed them.

The elves woke their spouses and began speaking and learning the old words, making new ones as they went along.

Then, they came to a birch grove by the stream where twelve new elves were already waking. Of course, it was Enel's turn and he claimed them as his people.

Now, the sixty elves began to sit beside the stream, inventing not only words but songs and poetry.

I watched fascinated. This isn't so terrible after all.

So off they went yet again. And this time, I remembered what Amil had said: the further they went the more elves they found. Imin, the firstborn was waiting to be the last, so he could gain more. Quite arrogant, though, but maybe he shouldn't have jumped to conclusions first.

Then beside a sweet-smelling fir-wood, eighteen pairs of dark-haired elves lay sleeping. A gust of wind blew, disturbing their slumber, but when their eyes opened, they didn't look at the new elves. Instead they gazed wide-eyed and in awe at the stars, and they cried out.

"Elen, Elen!" I didn't know how they managed to immediately come up with the same word for star, but they did.

The new thirty-six awakened Quendi went to Tata. I could smirk. Honestly, with this attitude, Imin was bound to get the fewest. But who was I to judge?

So, the ninety-six un-begotten Quendi, made even more words. It was so interesting, so fascinating. I had never seen the creation stories in any world, until now. They were celebrating, singing laughing and chatting happily amongst themselves, but they needed to find more elves.

A dark lake, the colour of twilight was their next stopover. It had a high cliff on its east and rushing waterfalls. The Quendi were stunned, amazed and in awe of their surroundings.

Washing themselves under the falls, were twenty-four male elves, their spouses in the shallows. They didn't speak but they sang, nevertheless. And it was a beautiful, wonderful song, filled with joy, emotion and love, for each other, for the stars and for the world around them.

These forty-eight elves went to Enel's group. And it was no surprise that Imin's group was the smallest- I'm pretty sure the Vanyarin numbers have multiplied aplenty by this time, however- after all they had a large number of cities and some of them lived in Tirion, according to Tolkien.

So, it was strange, wasn't it? Beautiful, awe-inspiring but a strange, otherworldly thing to see the life appearing in your own species.

I had been human for three lifetimes, this was my second time as an elf.

My second time as an immortal- the last time, I died during the Fall of Vroengard.

And the elves dwelt there and were happy. At least for now.

When I opened my eyes again, I was noticeably cheerful.

We had breakfast together in the morning and Itarillë was chattering away like an excited squirrel.

Not all Arda's history was bad, I reflected.

Some of it was good. That filled me with hope.

As everyone chatted eagerly at breakfast, passing baskets of rolls, pitchers of milk and juice, and other foods, I was fed again- by Atar and Amil.

Seriously, how long do I have to be a baby for?!

I already had my teeth- that part was over and while it wasn't as dreadful as the previous times I had been reborn and became an infant, it still hurt- surely I could begin handling food by myself now?

"What news?" Atar said, taking- was that a newspaper- here in Arda?!- from Macalaurë.

"Atar is thinking on taking more apprentices," Macalaurë said casually. Tyelcormo snorted as he spread marmalade on his toast. "King Ingwë is speaking to Haru about… Some matter of great importance. I know not. "Apparently our three kings are in talks with the Valar- planning something in the celebrations."

"A celebration?" Tyelcormo scoffed again. He set down a plateful of food for Huan who eagerly began to wolf it down.

"You mean the Festival of Creation?" Amárië asked eagerly. "What are they planning? Why so secretive?"

Macalaurë answered: "Because they're planning something special this year. I know not what it is, but it's hinted as being a surprise." He casually put some spread on his toast.

"But it's so far away!" Angaráto growled. "Why now?" Aikanáro looked dubious. "We still have time. Why are they-"

"It doesn't say." Atar said, brow furrowing. "But it must be something if they start planning it now."

Amil and my Telerin aunt, Macalaurë's wife, arched their eyebrows when she looked at Atar, and the former continued spooning food into my mouth.

Being a baby I know very little about elven holidays in Arda. This was only my first year of life for crying out loud! But the Feast of Creation was a celebration commemorating the awakening of the Elves in Cuiviénen. It was a sacred feast day, and a way of celebrating and thanksgiving for the life and beauty that we were given and surrounded by, for the safe refuge in Valinor, the breath in our bodies, our children and so forth. A newborn's first Feast of Creation was quite a memorable thing, for the parents had a special duty to give thanks, and Amil and Atar were intently discussing it numerous times before we had left. Because they were given a child- new life, they had to give something in return, to show their appreciation and gratitude for the blessing they were given. I wonder what it would be, as Amil had said that the Valar had no greed for materialistic items, even less Eru Ilúvatar. And there was no poor to give charity to. Another thing was that there were no temples, churches, synagogues or mosques and shrines here. Arda did not have an organised religion, the way many worlds did.

"We'll be celebrating the Feast of Creation in Valmar this year," Atar said casually.

"That's to be expected," Amil muttered. "But what is this about the harvest festival? Are there any hints?"

Atar shrugged. Tyelcormo suddenly put down his knife. "It's the Second-born, isn't it?" He challenged. "The ones who have yet to awake."

Itarillë and Telperinquar immediately looked at him, both puzzled.

"Now, now, Tyelcormo," Amil warned. "We have children here. No rants about the Atani during breakfast. What a way to start one's day."

"What is the Atani?" Telpe asked, eagerly.

"Nothing important." Atar said quickly, but Ambarussa exchanged dark glances at one another and Tyelcormo. It was clear. There had been many heated words about the Second-born- humans- within my grandfather's walls.

Why was he so hostile? I wondered.

Could he… Surely not?

He couldn't have been jealous, could he?

Jealous of mankind? Of the sickly mortal ones? Why? Men would kill for immortality- Voldemort literally did, and Galbatorix and the Forsworn thrived on it too- so why did Grandfather, as mentioned during the dinner with Alacion and his family, resent them- for Middle Earth?

But maybe Grandfather was like Rhunön. I still remembered what she said to Eragon in Book Two, that the goal matters not, only the journey towards it. Maybe the life in Aman was getting easy- too easy- for Haru- Fëanáro. He craved new challenges, new discoveries. He had already invented the Tengwar, by perfecting Rúmil's Sarati. He had invented the Fëanorian lamps, that were like the Erisdar lamps in Alagaësia used by dwarves and elves alike.

That kind of restless energy- in a land full of elves grown easy and complacent under the countless blessings of Ilúvatar and the Valar- no wonder Haru had made the Silmarils.

What else did he create? The Palantíri? Had he already done so?

"Well, apart from this-" the news went on and nothing caught my attention.

Amil took me to the beach- or more specifically, to gather gems from the pools and have my first ship experience. Everyone else had gone to the rock pools. Itarillë and the others would sail tomorrow.

The boats were beautiful, and the ships. White as pearl and snow with their swan heads.

It was incredible. The power and majesty they held, yet the simple peace they conveyed. They weren't war ships like the English Galleons, or anything like that, they were… Swan ships.

And they were incredible. They seemed to be alive, to take flight into the winds.

I gasped, and stretched out my hands, giggling (yes, I'll admit that) so much that Amil could barely hold me back.

I reached out as far as I could.

Amil sighed. As I squirmed and wriggled with excitement, she boarded the gangplank onto the ship.

"I wanted to be here when she first sets sail," Grandfather Elulindo smiled, emerging from behind a mast, and navigating his way towards us. Amil gave him a peck on the cheek. I giggled and crowed with delight when he lifted me up. The crew smiled. "Shall we take her out to see?"

"Let's pray to Ulmo, Ossë and Uinen that there are no storms today." Amil said, taking me back.

"Come now," Grandfather's eyes twinkled. "What's life without a little risk?"

They were speaking in Lindalambë, and it astonished me. I knew that the Common Tongue of Westeros and Alagaësia corresponded with English, and Westron was represented as being English in the books, but was an entirely different language. So how was it, that I could understand Quenya and Lindalambë with ease?

The Valar may be the only ones I have ever met in the universe to have some answers yet.

I sighed, then after watching the crew fuss around, the ship moved forwards- it didn't lurch as I expected it too, but it came close.

But it was all so smooth and light, the experience was similar as the elven ships in Alagaësia, but… More.

It felt lighter, smoother and more graceful and when the elf at the wheel took it, it came to life as if by magic, which the elves here didn't use to such an extent. The sails sprang up and wove around and pushed us, seemingly without any wind, towards open water.

There were plenty of ships and boats whereupon we had to weave in and out, as graceful as my foremother's hands on her loom. We glided, weaving past them and at last! We were on the open ocean.

The blue-green of the sea was so vibrant today, the sky was clear and the gulls sang, seemingly with delight. Amil laughed, joyfully as I shrieked with glee, leaning forwards to gaze upon the waters.

Dolphins.

Dolphins were beginning to emerge and leap, bursting through the waves. But what really shocked me were the great numbers they came in. There must have been dozens of dolphins leaping and playing excitedly on either side of our ship as we sailed.

The crew noticed it, as did Grandfather. "Strange," he murmured. "I have never seen so many dolphins, not in the brightest days of summer, where the children all gather to play."

I wonder…

The dolphins leapt and trilled. I cooed and held out my hand. They squeaked delightedly and chirped, singing their songs to me. My laughter echoed all around us. If anything, the dolphins seemed to be further overjoyed.

Then a call of birds- but not just any birds.

A huge flock of swans flew down, swooping with their beating wings, as white as the boats which were fashioned in their honour. They all swirled around the ship, and went lower and lower.

Until we saw them at eye level. Gazing directly at me.

My mother's rich violet eyes widened, as she gazed in shock and awe, at me and the swans and dolphins. Everyone on the ship had fallen silent as they beheld this.

One swan was flapping his wings heading right towards me.

I reached out my hand… And he bent slightly, allowing me to touch his head, to stroke it.

Giving my fingers a gentle but affectionate nip, he flew off, the rest of the flock heading after him, to the utter amazement of the crew.

Then splashing noises were heard and our attention was pulled back to the water.

Several figures were emerging from the sea. Several, figures seemingly made with blue-green skin, as clear as the waters, but solidifying, like sea foam, adorned with pearls, seaweed and coral. They were stroking and clutching at the dolphins as if pets… Or friends.

Everyone on board the ship gasped, but I just stared entranced at their beauty. The people- maidens and males alike- smiled and laughed, waving to me.

Then a massive tidal wave streaked our way. The beings- must have been Maiar- leapt and swam out of the way as did the dolphins.

The tidal wave mounted higher and higher, cresting until something… Something like a smaller wave, or some foam sticking out, emerged from the water.

A form- a form that radiated more strength and power than I had ever imagined. A strong form, not unlike an elf, or what people in my first life would call 'humanoid' but still very… Different. The aura that surrounded the figure was powerful and otherworldly, and he looked different too. He wore clothes that shimmered and seemed to be the scales of a fish or sea silk, with ray fins from his collar. His skin was white as sea foam, his hair, blue-green like the wild waters. His eyes were such a deep and piercing blue that it seemed to stare deep into my soul.

Amil gasped and so did the others on board the ship. I was astounded. I knew this could only be a very powerful Maia.

And I could guess that this could only be-

"Lord Ossë." My grandfather breathed as everyone on board the ship bowed. But I couldn't tear my gaze away from him.

"Greetings, Elulindo Olwion." Ossë spoke, his voice rich and deep as the seas- though not as deep as Ulmo's, I supposed. The power and wild strength that emanated from his voice awed me.

"And Eärélen Telpelinda Elulindiel." He laughed. "And of course, this could only be…" He peered at me intently.

"This is my daughter, Eruvandë Estela Nelyafinwiel," Amil said, her voice shaking as she gestured to me.

There was a stunned silence. "So, this is the little gift promised by the Father." He murmured.

"I-" Amil froze. "You know of this?"

Ossë scoffed with amusement. "I hardly think that any of the Ainur- if they were not forsaken like Melkor- would not know of this little one's coming. I wondered why, though. Still, I was eager to meet her."

"As am I." Another voice appeared. A lady, glowing hazy-white like the moon or crushed pearl, rose from the waves. She wore a clinging gown of white, and her silvery hair, tinged with blue, was crowned in reddish coral and pearls, and trailed flowing and floating upon the surface of the water- no, it seemed to be the water itself, joined to the surface or one with it. I knew who this was.

"Lady Uinen." Amil whispered, curtsying again.

Uinen laughed, her eyes and smile were gentle.

"Now, there's no need for such formalities, Princess Eärélen." She teased gently. "And this is undoubtedly the little treasure."

I was too in awe to act all 'babyish'. "May I?" Uinen asked Amil. Amil blinked and seemed to rouse herself, stepping forwards and handing me to Uinen. The lady, despite looking very delicate, seemed solid and strong, not like sea foam, as she held me. Both Uinen and her husband peered down intently towards me.

"Welcome, Little Gift," she whispered. "May all our blessings be upon you, little treasure, for you may just be the one to save them all."

I froze in shock. Did she…

She knew. She must have.

Uinen handed me back to Amil, who took me back, still seemingly in a trance.

"Our blessings upon you and your family Eärélen Telpelinda," Uinen said solemnly.

"Indeed. Now why don't you enjoy the rest of the day," Ossë said, teasingly. "I'm not planning on making any storms… Not yet at least." His laughter resounded all around us, before the wave pushed forwards and they disappeared with the rest of the Maiar.

Leaving an astonished crew and family behind.

Amil and Grandfather tried to recover from this stunning… Revelation?

Anyway, Amil took me to gather gems and maybe shells in the rock pools, or the shallows of the sea, where we gathered them in massive scallop shell halves

Amil still held me at a sling on her hip- which was frustrating! But I was a baby and there was a chance I could cut myself or break a few fragile bones- I was still incredibly fragile.

But Amil did allow me to handle a few gems- that was because she knew that unlike most babies I did not have a tendency to stuff things in my mouth.

Atar was with us. Amil had been silent for a long time and I worried for her. I wasn't sure if she told Atar yet, but she might have.

Atar was looking around before he stopped suddenly. "Look at this," he said in wonder. Amil started and came over to where he was, carrying me all the while. There she leaned down and tried to pull the gem free. I strained to see it. Atar went to help her, and together they plucked a gem, dripping from the sea water, and raising it high into the air.

It was a ruby, the deepest, richest slightly pinkish or lavender, but mostly the deepest red, glinting with two stars from within.

Two eight-pointed stars of silver. The star of Fëanáro.

Amil gasped. "It's beautiful."

Then Atar glanced at Amil. It was clear, a wordless exchange was being delivered.

"Keep it safe." Amil spoke. Atar nodded.

What happened?

We went searching for more gems. Another time Atar found an emerald, with a silver star in its heart, Amil found sapphires and diamonds. Atar smirked and proudly showed her an amethyst, which was truly the most beautiful thing, and made her gasp again.

I could see the true, deep bond of love shared between my parents.

And you can't imagine how happy I was to see that.

In my first life. The reason I delved so deeply into books was to escape the turbulence and turmoil that surrounded their relationship and my home.

My second life, their match had been purely political and though they were cordial and friendly, and worked together, they also entertained numerous others. I know they tried to hide it from us, but I knew anyway.

My third life was a marriage of convenience, like most noble pure-blood families.

My fourth they were just mates and were happy but not as happy nor did they share such a deep, strong and powerful bond as my parents now.

There was a difference between the elves of Alagaësia and those of Arda and Valinor. Not only was marriage practiced here, but elves found their soulmates and stayed together for eternity.

And based on what my father said, he had been looking for a long time, even longer than Tyelcormo who was currently entertaining Huan and himself, even as Telpe finally took an interest in what we were doing.

Tyelcormo. Could he ever find happiness? He had to! Before he and Lúthien spurred forth their doom!

I frantically prayed for help. I wondered if there were any Telerin maidens around here. Of course, plenty of them may be interested in Tyelcormo but would it last?

Finally, with Itarillë chirping around (goodness, how did anyone keep their wits about her?), we took our newly-discovered treasure and headed back home.