So many apologies for the lateness. I was so so so sick for the past couple of days. It was horrible. Also, more apologies for any spelling or grammar mistakes in this. Some days, I could barely see what I was typing. Bad fever.

Anywho, here's chapter 2. I got several reviews saying I should've introduced my OC more but they never gave me a chance to upload ch 2. A bunch of chapters are going to have flashbacks of Anolinde and Legolas and how they interacted before the quest of the Fellowship. Maybe I should have stated that in the last chapter.

Well, enjoy lovelies! Review if you would like!

PS. Anything in BOLD is being said in ELVISH. ITALICS are for memories and thoughts

"Anolindë, stop your fretting and get dressed. Tonight you meet the prince!"

"But Ada, I do not wish to!"

"You must! His Ada is a good friend and has invited us to a feast. Now you must get dressed!"

A tall Elf in blue robes fussed about a tiny elleth who stood with her arms tightly crossed, refusing the beautiful green gown her father handed to her. Daeron sighed and rubbed his temples, wishing the handmaiden would appear to help him.

"I do not wear gowns like this!" the small Elf-maiden stated, huffing in protest.

Anolindë never really fit in with the other small elleths her age. She spent her days playing with the young ellons instead. And their mischievous ways had her wearing tunics and breeches instead of gowns. Daeron never minded that she spent so much time with the males. After the death of his wife, he thought it would be good for her to have fun in any way she could. Losing a mother could not be easy. However, when the time came for Anolindë to look like a proper elleth, Daeron wished his beautiful wife would be there to help coax the young one into a gown. Instead, he relied on the handmaiden Thranduil had so graciously provided for him following his wife's death. To his relief, said handmaiden gracefully entered the room and ushered him out, pulling a protesting Anolindë behind a silky screen to dress her.

"I dislike these gowns very much," Anolindë grumbled as it was pulled over her head.

The other elleth only laughed as she finished with the gown and began brushing out Anolindë's silvery blonde locks.

When the handmaiden was finished, Daeron entered the room to escort his daughter to the dining hall where the feast was being held.

"Now, do you remember who Thranduil is?" he asked her as they walked through the corridors.

"He is the king," Anolindë responded.

"Very good!" Daeron replied, smiling down to his daughter. "Do you remember what your Ada does for him?"

"You are…" she began, scrunching up her face as she tried to remember.

"I am a close friend and advisor to the king. I help him when he needs to make important decisions for the kingdom," Daeron explained.

Anolindë's face lit up.

"I remember now!" she stated proudly.

"Very good," Daeron said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

Soft music filled their ears as they reached the dining hall. They were greeted by several Elves, some of who her father knew. Anolindë stayed quiet at her father's side, taking in the sight before her. Great tables were filled with all sorts of food and a small gathering of musicians played in the corner. Many Elves filled the hall, chatting amongst themselves. One Elf, his head adorned with a crown, broke away from a small group and began making his way over to them, a small ellon by his side.

"Ah Daeron," the crowned Elf exclaimed upon reaching them. "I am highly pleased you could attend."

The two adults greeted each other, leaving Anolindë and the small ellon to stare at each other. Anolindë tilted her head slightly as she looked him up and down. His hair was the same color as her and two blue eyes looked back at her own.

"You must be Anolindë," came a voice from above and the crowned Elf bent slightly to look at her.

"Anolindë, this is King Thranduil," her Ada explained. "And his son Legolas."

At the sound of his name, the small ellon bowed his head.

"Your Ada tells me you prefer to play with the males your age," Thranduil said.

Anolindë nodded.

"Well then, perhaps Legolas and Anolindë could become close friends," Thranduil continued, speaking to Daeron.

Anolindë frowned slightly. The small prince didn't seem like he would like to play outdoors. He was too clean. No, they would most certainly not be friends.

~:✿:~

Anolindë kept her pace alongside Legolas as they followed the Uruks west. Aragorn was only slightly ahead of them whilst Gimli did his very best to keep up behind them.

"Keep breathing," Gimli panted. "That's the key! Breathe!"

Anolindë smiled to herself at his words. It must not be easy for the Dwarf.

"They run as if the very whips of their masters were behind them," Legolas said, keeping his eyes trained on the cloud of dust in the distance.

Aragorn said nothing as he led the small party over rocks and hills, nothing but vast plains ahead of them. They ran through the night, pausing only for Gimli's sake. The poor Dwarf sat with his chest heaving.

"All this running is not for a Dwarf," he said in between breaths.

"How do you fare meleth nîn?" Legolas asked his love, grasping her hands in his.

"You know I am fine," she replied giggling and playfully smacking his hands away.

Legolas pulled her to him, running the pads of his fingers up and down her slender arms as she rested her head on his chest. The Elf Prince looked to their leader for a sign to continue as he placed a kiss on the top of Anolindë's head. It was only several minutes later that Aragorn motioned for them to continue. Anolindë readjusted the bow and quiver on her back and offered her hand to the sitting Dwarf.

"Bah!" he grunted, waving her hand away and heaving himself up. "I can get up without the help of an Elf."

"Suit yourself," Anolindë replied, turning and swiftly catching up to her beloved.

Dwarves were known for their stubbornness. When dawn arrived, a red sun crested over the horizon.

"A red sun rises," Legolas observed. "Blood has been spilled this night."

The hot sun continued to rise in the sky, growing brighter as the day wore on. They reached the top of a rather large hill by mid-morning. Something was off. Anolindë could no longer see the cloud of dust left in the wake of the Uruks. A shrill cry of a horse reached their ears.

"Come!" Aragorn hissed, leading them to a group of large rocks. "Hide!"

Legolas pulled Anolindë to him as they crouched behind one of the boulders. Anolindë peered around one side as a large group of Men on horseback rode past, hooves thundering through the ground, kicking up dust and small patches of dried grass.

These must be people of Rohan, Anolindë thought to herself.

The people of Rohan were known for their love of horses and expert horsemanship. Anolindë had never visited their lands but she had heard plenty of stories from Elves returning from different places. As the large group passed, Aragorn stood and walked out into the open. Anolindë, Legolas, and Gimli followed his lead.

"Riders of Rohan!" Aragorn called out loudly. "What news from the Mark?"

The rider at the head of the column lifted his spear, signaling the rest to turn. Anolindë moved closer to Legolas as the riders approached them, almost menacingly. In turn, Legolas placed his arm across his lover's chest as if to protect her. When they reached them, the riders formed a tight circle around the four hunters. Spears clanked against armor as they were pointed directly at the four on the ground. One spear came dangerously close to Anolindë. Pushing it aside, Legolas moved to stand slightly in front of her.

"What a friendly welcome," Anolindë commented dryly.

At the sound of her voice, another spear was thrusted in her direction. She glared up at the man on horseback who dared shove a spear in her face. One rider pushed his way to the front of the circle.

"What business does a Man, two Elves, and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?" he asked angrily. "Speak quickly!"

"Give me your name, horsemaster, and I shall give you mine," Gimli said, resting his hands on his axe.

The rider stared angrily at the Dwarf, his eyes never leaving him as he dismounted his horse swiftly.

"I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground!" he spat.

In an instant, Legolas had an arrow fitted to his bow and aimed it directly at the Man.

"You would die before your stroke fell," he hissed between clenched teeth.

"Do not waste an arrow on him," Anolindë said quietly, gently pushing Legolas' arm down.

The spears closed in tighter at Legolas' actions.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn," Aragorn said as Legolas lowered his bow. "This is Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas and Anolindë of the Woodland Realm. We are friends of Rohan and of Theoden, your king."

"Theoden no longer recognizes friend from foe," the Man said, reaching up and removing his helmet. "Not even his own kin."

So this must be Éomer whom I've heard about, Anolindë thought. Nephew to the king of Rohan. She remembered one of the Elves mentioning him.

As he removed his helmet, the spears were finally withdrawn.

"Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands," Éomer continued. "My company are those loyal to Rohan and for that, we are banished."

He moved closer to the small group as he spoke.

"The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets."

At these last words, he looked directly at Legolas. Eyes narrowing, Anolindë felt rage bubble up in her being.

"We are not spies," Aragorn assured him. "We track a party of Uruk-Hai westward across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are destroyed," Éomer stated matter-of-factly. "We slaughtered them during the night."

"But there were two Hobbits!" Gimli interrupted. "Did you see two Hobbits with them?"

"They would be small," Aragorn continued. "Only children to your eyes."

"We left none alive," Éomer said, his voice heavy with regret. "We piled the carcasses and burned them."

He swept his hand towards the plains. In the distance, a pyre of smoke rose up towards the sky. Anolindë's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a cry. They were all quiet for a moment.

"Dead?" Gimli's cracked whisper broke the silence.

No, they couldn't be!

Leaving it off here :) Reviews would be helpful. Love it? Hate it? I know it's not everyone's cup of tea.

Ada- Father

Elleth - female Elf

Ellon - male Elf