Author note

Hi everyone!

This is the first fanfic I try to write entirely in english. So be indulgent, I'm not a native of this language.
However, any advice, or criticism, written with benevolence and with the goal to help me improve myself are more than welcomed. Don't hesitate.

This story might take some time to unfold so don't be disappointed if you don't see your favourite characters early on. They will come forth eventually.

As stated in the summary, this story is mainly a romance with some mystery and adventure thrown in the mix. The main couple is Glorfindel x OC, and there will be another couple that you'll discover as the story unfolds. I won't say quite yet. ;)

So, enjoy, my dear friends, and let me know what you like, or dislike.

Disclaimer

I do not own the characters and the universe of Lord of the Rings. It is the property of the so wonderful J.R.R. Tolkien. I might quote from him and sometimes from the movies. I do not gain anything from my written works and this is purely out of fun that I publish this. Some characters in this story are, however, mine and I would appreciate it if they remained that way for now, or at least, I'd like to be asked if they can be used in other works. If any resemblance to real people can be seen, it is entirely fortuitous.

Prologue

Destiny, or fate as some would rather put it, had quite a strange way of showing itself. Usually, it would be foretold with a prophecy, but prophecies tended to be so fleeting and prone to be misinterpreted in so many ways. And like History forgotten through the passing of times becomes altered in some way, lies are so easily seeping through and taking over. Lies, that become so strong as the truth behind them vanishes like smoke in a breeze.

History, to her, was just a total bunch of lies that made her grit her teeth each time she read it or heard it being discussed, argued over, dissected by scholars theorizing about long-gone figures of importance. Still, she kept quiet, never voicing her irritation nor trying to correct any of them. It wasn't her place after all. She was but a servant, a skilful one, mind you, but a servant nonetheless. She was to obey her master's wish and follow the orders to the letter.

"But… I thought our founder was Paeonia the pure," Alara's voice brought back her attention from her brooding. "Wasn't it written in Founding of the Four Covenants Volume I?"

"Hum… Yes, however, she was not so much the founder as the idea that led to the founding of our Covenant," the elder replied with a tensed smile. "Paeonia the Pure was a great healer, the first one to use her power in that regard. It's her purity that led to our path as a covenant of healing and protection."

"What about her disappearance?" asked Alara, curious as any child of sixteen would be. "It seems that there is no clear answer on the subject."

"Well, it would appear evident that she died at some point. We are all mortal, no matter how much power we harness. We might outlive standard humans as mages, but in the end, we all die."

Alara seemed lost in thought for a while under her eyes that never strayed far from the girl. At sixteen, she was but a mere child, yet so much stood on her shoulders alone as the next head of the covenant to be appointed in a few days. She was on the short side, with long blond hair flowing straight down her back and eyes bluer than the clearest of skies. Her face was heart-shaped with full lips that always sought to smile whatever the circumstances. She was a kind and cheerful soul despite all the burdens and hardships she had endured since her infancy.

Her heart went out to her each time she recalled this small child running straight to her and launching herself in her arms while crying. It was so heart-breaking to even think about it. She had, like many mages, been cast aside by her own family that should have loved her more than anything, precious child that she was. But children with magic often fell to this fate and ended up in a covenant, much like this one. If determined skillful enough, they began training to become the next generation of apprentice and later, full mages in their own rights. If not, they became servants or died while trying to pass the rites.

The four covenants were old. Very old. Dating back centuries, which was strange as the so-called saint the covenant of healing worshipped dated from more than a couple of thousand years ago. Here was another of the lies better to not be commented on. She had wondered, though, if anyone had ever pointed out this curious discrepancy in the so-called History… But she wasn't supposed to ask questions. Her sole duty was to protect this child as she had carefully done for a few years now. Alara had been thrilled when she was given her as a personal servant.

"Lilyth, could you leave us? I need to talk privately with Alara on matters of utmost importance," the elder asked none so gently with a hard look towards her.

Lilyth met her charges eyes silently, asking quietly for her orders and nodded once Alara smiled to her. She strode slowly out of the office and closed the door behind her. It was useless to stay there, trying to eavesdrop as the mage would most surely keep the room protected. She sighed and put her forehead on the hard wood of the door. She didn't care for the way they treated her. She was used to it. But a part of her feared that Alara's eyes would soon change when directed to her. No doubt she was about to learn the truth of the covenant and it wouldn't be without consequences.

She straightened herself and walked down the corridor towards the spiraling staircase that would lead her to the main entrance hall of the old Manor that served as headquarters for the covenant. Her hand glided upon the smooth wood of the guard-rail. It was old, but it was clear the servants kept it well cared for and carefully oiled it with a regular accuracy.

She looked at the wall sporting canvas after canvas of late masters and heads of the covenant while walking down the stairs. Some things never changed, no matter the passing of times. There were more portraits, that was for sure, but this foreboding sentiment endured through time. She had the feeling those portraits were forever judging her, hating and cursing her for all she was worth.

At the bottom of the stairs, the white marble floor gave her a sense of coldness and solitude. Once upon a time, she had been sprawled on this floor, bleeding and writhing in agony. The flashes of memory never seemed to leave her whenever she looked at it. She always felt threatened and ill-at-ease in this place.

Hurrying to the back door, she pushed past it with an urgency that threatened to bring her to her knees if she wasted one more second in this particular place. Outside, in the cold hair and under the falling snow, she breathed easier. She watched the snow fall, her face tilted upwards and a feeling of sadness gripping her viciously. The snow always represented the purity… the innocence. Another reminder of her own sins that brought her anger on the forefront. She huffed and strolled towards the well standing in a corner of the small back courtyard.

Sitting down on the edge of the well, she looked into it, seeing herself reflected while under the falling snow. Raven hair in a braid passed over her shoulder and falling on her thigh, her black eyes, which some would say soulless, gleaming like two obsidians surrounded by long lashes. Looking into her own eyes, she felt suddenly so old and lost. The past would always be haunting her, never leaving her in peace.

On the horizon, the sun was setting, bringing forth the night. A realm of darkness in which she reluctantly felt at home. Despite herself, she could not deny it indeed was her realm. It had been for so long that she was hard pressed to recall a time when it wasn't the case. A time long-gone… forgotten…

Alara felt strangely upset when Lilyth left her alone with the elder. The feeling of safety immediately evaded her with the screaming absence of her caretaker and protector. She strived to show nothing of it and her gaze went back to the old man that was now looking at her, his hands linked under his chin, elbows upon his desk. His eyes were hard and foreboding.

"Finally," he sighed before arranging himself more comfortably in his chair. "Now that you will soon take your place as the head of this covenant, you must learn some… let's say… secrets."

"Secrets?" she repeated, frowning.

"Yes, child," he said carefully. "One of them, the most guarded of all, concerns your… pet," he almost spit out the last word.

"Are you referring to Lilyth?" she asked, suddenly angry at the way he treated her dear friend.

Lilyth was her servant, true, but she was also so much more. She was dear to her, had always been there for her since she had been dumped on the covenant by her family. She had been there to nurse her when she cried, soothe her when nightmares fought their way into her sleep, calm her when she was upset, cheer her when she was feeling down. Even though she was a mystery, never seeming to age, she had been kind and caring, which made her so infinitely dear to her.

A few years back, some kind of secret ritual had taken place, binding Lilyth to her in some way that hadn't been truly explained to her. Until that day, Lilyth had been the servant of the previous head of the covenant, Elend. He had mysteriously disappeared and no matter how many times she asked about him, the elders never gave her an answer. They always evaded the subject, giving some vague explanation without entering into too much details.

"Precisely," he said, not caring about her sudden rush of disapproval. "What do you know about her?"

"That she was Eland's servant until he disappeared," she answered truthfully, dreading what was coming.

"Indeed, she was..." he muttered with a scowl.

Alara had a bad feeling about this. There seemed to be something really odd about this answer. The old man's composure had slipped a bit at the mention of Elend. Something really was fishy and she needed to know what it was. "Elder… what happened to Elend?"

"Nothing you need to know, child," he said with a wave of the hand to close the subject. "All you need to know is that Lilyth is not what she seems to be. She is the Lilyth."

Alara's eyes widened at the revelation. The Lilyth? The creature of darkness that had destroyed an entire kingdom many millenniums in the past? That could not be. This creature was described as ruthless and blood-thirsty, praying on the livings for fun and sustenance. She was also called the harbinger of doom. She had been slain by no less than a hundred of mages and most of them had died in the process. She could not believe it. Her Lilyth was kind, gentle…

"The truth is Lilyth was not slain," the elder went on, guessing her train of thoughts. "Many mages gave their lives to trap her in a bond of servitude, ripping her of her dark powers. It is of the utmost importance that she stays bound to a mage, else she be let free and wreaking havoc on the world. As long as she is bound in servitude, her powers are repressed, bound to follow orders and not ask question nor argue, and she cannot kill unless ordered to."

"If she is that much of a threat, why haven't you killed her if she has no power anymore?" Alara asked, still under the shock.

"That is another well-kept secret, which I will not reveal to you today. All you need to know is that she must not be let free. I will teach you how to transmit this bound to another if ever there is a need of it."

Alara was frozen in her seat, shaking her head as tears threatened to fall from her eyes. These revelations were horrifying and scaring her. She didn't know what she thought of Lilyth. How could someone so horrible have been so kind and caring? Was it all a lie? Had she played her from the beginning?

However, she remembered Eland's interactions with Lilyth. He didn't seem to fear or hate her. On the contrary, each time she had witnessed him looking at her, his hazel eyes had been warm and full of kindness. He had never ordered her around, only had asked her nicely to do things, he even had asked for her input when he was stuck on some project or research.

"You mustn't be fooled by her apparent kindness," the elder went on again. "Always be wary of her and do not trust her. She could trick you into releasing her."

Alara slowly nodded, her throat constricted by too many emotions that she could not sort out. Not caring about her distress, the elder began teaching her the ritual of binding and what was needed for it to succeed: mainly a strong and pure soul. If the anchor for the binding wasn't strong enough, he would die or be unable to control her. That was why they had always transferred the bond on children, for they were untainted.

This night, when she went back to her room, she cried herself to sleep. A nightmare surged but she couldn't go to Lilyth for soothing. Not anymore…

Well, that's it for the prologue. What do you think of the characters as of yet?