General disclaimer: Come on Tolkien's fan base, you all know who wrote this! I won't even attempt to compare myself to you know who.

(Just to reiterate, I don't own it).

I would like to welcome you to my story. Be advised, it's not a Legomance, and summaries can be deceiving. Be kind, be sweet, but be honest. I truly want your criticism, unless it's particularly nasty. My pet peeve is those "it sux!" reviewers, both because they misspell sucks and because they don't say why.

Her Beauty

"Lord Elrond, you cannot honestly expect me to do this," came the exasperated cry from Glorfindel. He would only call his friend lord when he was particularly angry, just to remind himself that in this lifetime, Elrond was his elder, and losing his temper would not do either of them any good.

"Have patience, Glorfindel," Elrond said quietly, "They asked for her to be trained. They are important people, and her parents are friends of mine. I told them that I would request it of you."

"But surely you did not think I would agree!" Glorfindel cried, "It seems like a babysitting job to me," he stopped briefly, to calm down, "I will not watch some spoiled child while her parents are doing–whatever they please!"

"You surely know that this is not the case." Elrond replied, "You will do this anyway, because I am asking you to, and you will do it happily, or at least without audible complaint."

Mirthanna gazed at her surroundings and barely noticed her horse being led away as she stepped forward. This was Rivendell, she thought to herself, a nice place. The sooner they could leave, the better.

Lord Elrond appeared at the stairs, in front of what Mirthanna assumed was the main entrance. By his side was a gloomy looking guard, and Mirthana decided he was probably her teacher. He wasn't bad looking, she told herself, probably better looking when he was smiling.

Spoiled child, Glorfindel was thinking, but per his orders, he kept it to himself.. If she was to learn archery, he supposed he would just teach it to her and move on.

Mirthanna's parents bowed, and she followed suit, watching her long hair fall in front of her shoulders. She sighed audibly, knowing it would be impossible to gather it up again. It was thick and dark, and when she bowed, it brushed the ground in front of her feet.

As they stood up straight, her hazel eyes met Glorfindel's blue ones. His were dull, bored, but hers sparkled. A nod from her father told her she was free to move about the courtyard until she was needed. Mirthanna swept her hair behind her shoulders and headed off.

Glorfindel turned to go back inside when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, startled to see Mirthanna with and outstretched hand. He took hers and she shook his.

"Mae govannen, hir nín, well met, my lord," she said, with a rich voice that trilled her r's, which suited her particularly well. "Harthon erin hè cin rado mae, I hope this day finds you well."

"Hich sui mae, you as well," Glorfindel replied dully. "Please, would you mind if we dispensed with formality?"

"Bless Eru!" Mirthanna dropped her hand and shrugged her shoulders briefly. Her hands went to rub her cheeks. "I was sure I might sprain something, holding that smile for so long!" She paused, "My name is Mirthanna, if you'd like to know."

"I am Glorfindel," he said, "I am going to be your archery teacher, or trainer, if you'd prefer."

"Mirthanna!" Her mother was calling her from across the courtyard. She sighed.

"I'm sure if they want me, they want you too, you know, for formalities."

"Lady Mirthdanna," said Elrond, "If you would please follow me to the field, you may show Lord Glorfindel the skills you have already acquired."

"Of course, my lord," Mirthanna replied, and Glorfindel had noticed her flawless transformation back to society politeness. "My lord?" she questioned in Glorfindel's direction, awaiting his following. He was staring.

In the archery field, one of Mirthanna's ladies-in-waiting handed her a bow, already strung, and presented her with a quiver. Both were of Dol Amroth make, including the arrows in the quiver. Mirthanna took them and thanked her ladies, setting herself in front of a target. Then she shot. Her shot wasn't bad, he decided, she had good form, however, her arrow missed landing on the outermost ring of the target. Glorfindel took notice and suggested they move back indoors.

Lord Elrond and Mirthanna's parents talked through dinner. Lord Elrond had wished to know why they had come so far north just to have the skills of their daughter improved upon.

"Aside from the diplomatic business?" Orathan, her father, had chuckled.

"Well," Melethril, her mother, had replied, "She can only learn so much from her brother." Lastir stood off to the side, politely conversing with a young woman and her brother. Mirthanna, however, stood in front of the buffet tables, picking at dishes and looking longingly at others.

"The food doesn't bite back." Mirthanna jumped. She hadn't noticed Glorfindel's presence.

"I know that." She wrinkled her nose, then remembered her ladies had instructed her not to do that, and stopped. "But ladies-in-waiting do."

"Let me assure you I will be harsher," Glorfindel insisted, "Eat! I will not have you fainting on my training field."

Mirthanna looked horrified. "I'll have you know I have never fainted in my life," she told him firmly, "And I do not intend to start on your training field."

"If that's your last word on the matter, Mirthanna." She made a face.

"Please, Lady– or even Anna– will do just fine."

Glorfindel laughed at her insistence. "Yes, about the name, I was simply wondering–"

"Why my parents named me the gift of wine?" she asked him sarcastically. "Take a wild guess."

"Well I suppose–"

"I suppose that they meant to call me a mistake." Mirthanna did not look the least bit bitter. "I suppose that one son was enough for them. Don't look like that. It's perfectly logical fact." Glorfindel's look was quite amusing. "Sorry, my lord." She glanced back at him and left, but not before snatching his full plate from his hands.

Back at the high table, Elrond stood to announce the start of that night's dancing. The songs began, and out of the corner of his eye, Glorfindel noticed Mirthanna fidgeting in a most un-ladylike manner.

Mirthanna continued to bounce around. She realized her archery trainer had seen her, but she didn't care. There was dancing in Rivendell! Dancing! Her father and her brother had traveled almost everywhere, and they had told her that Rivendell's elves were stuffy and boring. What did they know, anyway?

Mirthanna continued to be excited until she realized the truth. No one was going to ask her to dance. She was just some noble's daughter, a visitor. There would be now point in getting acquainted with her. For all they knew, she'd be gone the next day. Maybe in a few weeks, she would be danced with, but certainly not tonight.

She supposed she had known this, but hoped her appearances would make up for it. Mirthanna was very pretty. She knew thinking this made her seem vain, but hadn't she the right to be vain? She had tan skin, and dark brown hair with a few sun lightened streaks. Her long brown lashes covered deep haze eyes, tinted with any color one normally expected to see. Her nose was rather plain, save for a small bump on the bridge. She hadn't broken it once, she had just been born that way, but her father said it gave character, so she didn't mind. Mirthanna's lips were set in a line now that she had realized she wouldn't be danced with, but even that could not hide the urge that they so often had, which was to smile.

But of course, being lovely could have been intimidating. Mirthanna sighed and leaned back, arms folded across her body, tightly pulled to several inches smaller by a corset, which was high fashion among the mortal women back home in Dol Amroth, and Mirthanna's family had to set the example, so she wore one too. Under her skirts, she crossed her legs on the chair, hidden by her skirts, and sat that way for the rest of the night.