In no way do I own any of Tolkien's works (but boy do I wish I did). Ziri and Amra are my creations.


People like to put themselves into other people's shoes. They like to empathize. But here's one thing I'm sure of. No one wishes to empathize with me. Who am I, exactly? A survivor. A scarred survivor.

"Library or training room, Ziri?" Amra, my bodyguard, asks. Yes. Unfortunately, I have a bodyguard. It's a long story.

"Training room, for now," I reply, already starting to walk there. I'd had bad nightmares last night, and I needed to release my emotions somehow.

"Nightmares again?" Amra asks, falling into step with me.

"You know me too well," I smile slightly. As we pass by Elves going about their daily business, I notice each of them avert their eyes. I know why. It's the same routine each day.

I am Ziri, daughter of King Thranduil of Mirkwood, second in line to the throne. I wish I could be nobody. But even if I was nobody, the events that occurred five years ago would have made anyone infamous.

In any case, bodyguards are supposed to walk behind or in front of royalty. I disagree. We are all Elves; we should all be equal, walking side by side.

Amra and I arrive at the training room, and she leans against a wall, watching as I unsheathe my blood-red sword, muttering a small incantation in Sindarin under my breath. In an instant, three training models spring up, each unsheathing their respective swords. They circle me, their lifeless eyes studying me. I attack the one to my left first, swiping and parrying with lightning-quick reflexes. With each strike, I recall my nightmares. With each block, I remember the fire and heat. With each cut, I see the torturous devices that they'd set up. The Great Eye flashes in my memory as I finally cut the head off of the last model. I breathe hard as my flashbacks fade and the models around me collapse.

"Nightmares?" A familiar voice asks. I turn around, and Legolas stood in the entryway.

My dear brother. How do I begin? While we do have a normal sibling rivalry, and fight on occasion, Legolas has stuck by me all these hundreds of years. He can be a mite bit annoying at times, though, as I am a naturally quiet and introverted person, he is naturally extremely protective of me. Of course, when I came back five years ago, he was the one who told my father to assign me a bodyguard. Amra is kind but is far too serious. She takes her job incredibly seriously, and if I'm not in Legolas's sight, I'm in hers. Both are dear to me, though.

"What makes you say that?" I reply evenly.

"I checked the library, and you were not there," Legolas says. "The only time you are up this early and in the training room is after you have had nightmares. Are you okay?"

"Yes, do not worry, it is the same as ever," I wave off my brother's concerned expression. "I'll come to breakfast now." I sheathe my sword and walk away, leaving my destruction behind, knowing they will repair themselves later.

Breakfast is the usual affair. After one meal of sitting in the dining hall, I chose to sit outside with my food, preferring the birdcalls and swaying of the trees to the stares and mutterings of the hall. If Legolas isn't busy with the usual things, the two of us would sit and talk just about anything. Unfortunately, this was an occasion, and, like today, he was normally caught up in something involving my father and business and topics as such. It seemed urgent today, though; my brother had rushed off in a very un-Legolas-like manner. Hopefully, he would tell me later; he normally did.

So, as usual, I sit under the same peaceful weeping willow tree, eating silently and watching people go about whatever they had to do that day. I try to remember the years before the darkness, try to remember anything eventful. The only thing I can recall is the Battle of the Five Armies. I was left alone here, kind of; Legolas had left with Tauriel to track down a party of Orcs, and Father had gone to fight someone or other. After that particular event, Legolas had gone on a forty-year traveling respite, seeing the world outside of Mirkwood. He came back and we talked and had joyous, fun, humorous times for fifteen years before the event. Even after his heartbreak with Tauriel, I could tell his heart had healed in that time, if delicately. It was unfortunate that it was broken again so soon.

I finish up, choosing to drop off my plate in the kitchen before going to the library to work on my studies. Amra follows my every step, discreetly reading a scroll on the history of Mirkwood as I take notes on proper war strategy. While a lady and princess like I shouldn't be reading scrolls like this, I prefer to ignore such ideals and read them anyway. They are quite interesting, much more intriguing than the scrolls on proper Elvish female etiquette that my father would have me read instead of this. As for my brother, he doesn't mind. If anything, he would prefer me to read about such topics than experience them. Again, he is rather protective of me.

As I finish up and roll up my scroll of notes (of which the ink needn't be dried, as it does that instantly), Legolas comes in, looking concerned. He walks straight to me. I stand up, curious as to what the news is.

"What is it, brother?" I ask.

"Walk with me. Such matters shouldn't be discussed here," he mutters under his breath and begins to walk away. I quickly fall into step next to him.

"What were you summoned about that must be talked about in private?" I inquire.

"Lord Elrond has summoned all of the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth to Imladris," Legolas says quietly. "He has called upon Father to send a representative from Mirkwood. Father has… chosen me."

"That is… amazing, Legolas," I look up at my brother (who is around half a head taller than me, to my dismay). "I… I wish I could accompany you."

"Ziri, you must stay here," Legolas says seriously. "You cannot be in any danger. Not… not after what happened."

"Did Father tell you what the Council is meant to be about?" I ask, changing the subject.

"I am not sure, but it is most likely about the rising power of Mordor," he answers. "There have also been rumors that a great weapon has re-emerged. It is something of that sort." I nod.

"When are you meant to be leaving?"

"Soon," Legolas sighs. "The Council is in a week; I am leaving this evening."

"But… but that is so abrupt! Were there no other warnings?" I ask in shock.

"No." Legolas puts a hand on my shoulder. "Listen to me, sister. Please do not try to come after me. I will be fine. Stay with Amra, focus on your training and studying."

"But what will it amount to if I can't even leave home?" I say desperately. "You know the Elves are leaving these shores. You know Father plans to leave soon, sometime in the next decade. What am I meant to do with all this knowledge if I can't even put it to good use?"

"You'll find a purpose," Legolas smiles sadly. "I know you, Ziri. You'll find something to set your mind to, whether it's trying to explore the other side of Arda or traveling into space. You'll find some new, modern, crazy idea to obsess over." I look up at my brother with pleading eyes.

"Please. I want to come," I beg.

"I'm sorry," Legolas looks down. "I cannot allow that." And with that, he leaves me behind in the hallway with a mixed expression, part annoyance, part sadness, but mostly anger.


A/N: And there we go, the first chapter! Reviews highly appreciated. Thanks for taking the time to read!