Disclaimer: Don't own Middle-Earth, Lord of the Rings, etc. I just my own my OC Ashlynn Flanagan and whatever characters I end up creating and using along the way.

Chapter One - Rebirth

Present Day, "Earth"

A cellphone ran out loud in the silent room, the only other sound was of breathing. Instantly at the sound of the cellphone, the person, a young woman sat up on the bed. She threw her covers, her short strawberry blonde hair sticking up everywhere as she stumbled over to her dresser. She grabbed the cellphone, answered the call and held it up slightly away from her ear.

"Ashlynn Flanagan! Where are you! You were supposed to be at work ten minutes ago!" The voice yelled over the phone.

"I'm really really sorry Mrs. Smith. I overslept, I'll be there as soon as I can," Ashlynn answered. The woman on the other side gave a heavy sigh.

"You are lucky to have me watch over you, well hurry up," Mrs. Smith ordered and slammed the phone done. Ashlynn sighed and glanced up at the mirror, running her hands through her hair, her pointed ears stick out from her short hair. Ashlynn considered a defect, a problem more than it was worth, but her parents never fixed her ears. It was not like they had the money to.

Ashlynn sighed and quickly got dressed in her comfy clothes that she used for running and biking. She was going to have to bike today instead of waiting for the buses. She quickly packed her spare clothes for later and her work uniform, tossing her keys, boots and shoes in. She ran downstairs into the garage and pulled out her bike and lock out. She strapped her helmet on and opened the side door, she carried her bike out, locked the door and kicked it shut.

"Hey Ash! Are you late again?" One of her neighbors called.

"Yeah I am! Bye! See you later!"

"That's what you get for staying out almost all night," he lectured her as she quickly pedaled away. Ashlynn basked in the wind in her hair as she pedaled down the street and the warmth of the sun. It was already stiffing hot at 6:20am, so Ashlynn figured it was going to be a scorcher. Ashlynn arrived at 7:05am at the small bakery shop, at the corner of a busy intersection. Ashlynn locked her bike up and headed inside to the bakery.

"Hey Ash, I love these new scones! They go perfect with my tea," complimented a customer.

"I am really glad! I am going to start carrying some more summery products," Ash informed the customer and headed into the back of the store greeting her employees.

"So Mrs. Smith, what do you think of the new bakery products we are carrying?" Ash said, stepping into the office. Mrs. Smith was an older woman in her 50's, who mothered Ash as much as Ash would allow. They had a close relationship since Ash got out of college and established her bakery. It helped that her best friend, Lucian, or Lucy as she called him was her son.

"Is that why you were up late last night and not here?" Mrs. Smith asked.

"Yes, I wanted to bake all the new products before Judy came in to bake the normal goods," Ash explained.

"I thought you were off gallivanting with Lucian last night. He never came home..." Mrs. Smith said worriedly.

"I'll go look later at our favorite spots, but we weren't supposed to meet last night. Tonight is our band practice," Ash informed.

"This is so unlike him..."

"I know, but do not worry to much. Put on a smile, embrace the day. I'll stay up front today and work with the customers. Here, this is a phone book of all our friends, why don't you try and call them on line two? Maybe they will know," Ash suggested, handing over the phone book from her backpack. Ash slipped the backpack onto the peg in the office and headed out into the front, tying an apron around her and plastering a smile on her face. She greeted her regulars, talked with new customers and answered their questions.

"So what coffee are you guys carrying today?"

"Maui Madness, Blueberry, our House Blend, Decaf, and Dark Roast, and we have many different flavor shots. Would you like me to name them all," asked one of her employees? The interactions were normal, comforting, as Ash worried about Lucy.

"Hey Ash, Mrs. Smith wants to talk to you," said a girl. Ash thanked her and walked in the back to the office.

"Have you found him?" Ash asked.

"No, but Gabriel saw him on the corner of Main Street heading onto 5th" Mrs. Smith answered.

"I think I may have an idea of where he is," Ash said quietly, wondering why Lucy was heading towards a bad area. "I'll go check it out later, I promise."

"Not to late, alright?"

"I promise, not to late," Ash agreed. "Hey Mrs. Smith..."

"What is it Ash?"

"I made a living will recently, should something ever happen to me, you get this bakery."

"Stop taking non-sense Ash, nothing is going to happen to you."

"Its a feeling I got Mrs. Smith. I've always trusted my feelings, they never led me wrong, especially not on the streets," Ash said glancing over at Mrs. Smith from the corner of her eyes. Mrs. Smith's face darkened and she took a deep breath in.

"You are not doing drugs again?"

"No, no, I am not. I have been clean for a long time, since that time at the hospital..."

"Alright, but you better come back to me. I only have Lucian, Emma, and you," Mrs. Smith said. Ashlynn tried to give Mrs. Smith an assuring smile, but she was not sure if she succeeded. Ash headed out to serve more customers, to bake, and to clean up. As she did she got lost in her thoughts and memories.

Ashlynn really did not believe in the supernatural at all, but she learned to trust her instincts. Ashlynn had run away from her home, grew up on the streets, till she had met Lucy and Mrs. Smith. They took her in for a time, until they realized she was on drugs. They forced her to go into detox and then into a program. But all that time on the streets, had enforced her to listen to her instincts, it was how she managed to not get raped, assaulted, or hurt. It was why she knew which people to trust. She only ended up trusting Lucy and Mrs. Smith because they treated her like a person and they had radiated such kindness. Emma was nice, but she was not like her mother or her brother. Emma had wanted her mother to throw Ash out on the street, but she was addicted to drugs and did not want that influence in the home. However, since that detox time, Ash had been clean.

Mrs. Smith adopted Ash, helped her get her GED, and put her through college. It was not like Ash was dumb, she was smart, and creative. Ash was an artist with a sensitive soul. It was Lucy who bought her a guitar and who would sit with her on the street playing with her. Ash did not have the perfect ear like Lucy who could listen a song once and play it, but she was quick learner, always had to be. Lucy made it a competition, who could outdo the other, who could get the perfect SAT scores. It was her relationship with Lucy, as brother and sister, that was what saved her life from an early death.

"Are you lost in memory lane again?" Mrs. Smith asked.

"Yeah, I can never thank you enough for what you did for me," Ash said with a smile.

"I am just doing the Lord's work. A little feeling in my heart told me I had to save you. I never told you this, but that feeling is still in my heart that you have something to accomplish," Mrs. Smith. Ash laughed and shook her head.

"Who knows? We never know we have met our destinies, until we unfold with it," Ash said mystically, raising one eyebrow at Mrs. Smith. Mrs. Smith smiled.

"Can you go look for him now? I am really worried, I know it is only three p.m., I will close up the bakery for you, okay?"

"Alright, I'll trust you Mrs. Smith. I'll go find Lucy," Ash said and gave Mrs. Smith a hug. Ash untied her apron as she walked into the back, exchanging it for her backpack and helmet. She slipped out of the door, into the muggy hot city. Ash loved being warm, but this humidity was a killer. She unlocked her bike and placed the lock in her pack. She took off pedaling down the street, heading towards 5th.

'I never wanted to go near that section again. Why is Lucy over there?' Ashlynn wondered out to herself. 5th street was not the worst of the worst, but a lot of drug deals went down there, a lot of junkies, hookers, and even gang members were there. Since getting off the streets, becoming clean, Ashlynn never went there again, until today. Hopefully no one would recognize her, but her violet eyes were rather unique; at least her hair was cut short and was her natural hair color. Ash continued to that area, fear in her heart, realizing this was probably one of the stupidest things she could have done. Yet her instincts were telling her she was fine, she was okay.

Ash got to 5th street and glanced around and then she saw a face she recognized, Jane. She was dressed like a hooker, but one arm was covered, probably to hide the scars from drug use.

"Jane!" Ash said as she crossed the street.

"I don't do chicks," Jane said.

"No Jane, I'm not interested in fucking," Ash said shaking her head.

"Wait a minute, are you, are you Ash?"

"Jesus Christ! Look at you! I was wondering what happened to you, but figured you probably died somewhere, do you need some drugs," Jane asked. Ash gave a tight smile.

"Yeah no, I got out. I'm clean now and I am staying that way," Ash answered. Ash pulled out a photo of Lucy and showed it to Jane.

"Have you seen this guy around? Someone said they saw him going down here last night," Ash said.

"No, I would recognize that sweet face anywhere. He's a beauty, is he your sugar daddy?" Ashlynn, at that moment could have done a face palm at that moment, but realized that this was probably all Jane known.

"No he is my brother, we run together," Ashlynn explained.

"Ask Big John up the street. Want me to take you to him?" Ashlynn shook her head at Jane's question. She really did not want to run into anyone she once knew.

"Hey baby, is this chick bothering you?" A man asked walking up to Jane.

"No, she is just looking for her friend. Ash, show Mark the picture, maybe he has seen him," Jane suggested. Ash sighed and showed Mark the picture.

"No, I don't know why no rich white guy would be down here. Get lost, people here don't like questions," Mark said eying her.

"No, you guys just don't like pigs, oink oink," Ash said.

"Haha, that is right. But we don't like nobody who ain't our own stickin their nose in our biz, get lost," Mark said.

"Mark, be nice! This is my friend Ash, she was on the streets with me."

"Then she should know better to come back. There are no friends for you here," Mark said.

"Fine, fine, I will leave. Jane, if you see him, come to here," Ash said giving Jane her business card.

"Alright, I shall Ash. See you around, you know where to find me," Jane said. Ash nodded and got on her bike and wheeled it around. She pedaled away as fast as she could, not wanting to be in that area any longer. Ash came to a stop at the busy intersection and waited for it to turn green, tapping the handles her bike in thought. It turned green and Ash pedaled forward, she heard the screech, a horn to late. She glanced to the side realizing a car had run the red light, a cop car in pursuit, and it was to late to move away. The car hit her straight on and for a moment she flew upwards and she came back down with a hard crash.

Ashlynn stared up at the blue sky, cloudless and beautiful. It was a warm day, with sunlight pouring unchecked. Today was band practice and tomorrow she had a concert she was going to preform, her first concert since becoming signed. Now it seemed to late. Her eyes started to blur and her eyes drifted shut.

"Hey, stay awake now! Miss stay awake!" Ashlynn was so tired, she had no desire to be awake. There was sirens in the distance, her heartbeat seemed so loud in her ears. Her eyes flickered open to see dark brown eyes staring worriedly into hers, she glanced over to see blood pouring out.

'To late, but why?' She glanced up at those eyes again. She tried to say why, but it didn't come out. Why did this had to happen? Even Mrs. Smith said she had something to do, something to achieve, and her instincts didn't warn her of approaching death. So why was she dying? Ashlynn closed her eyes, the sound of something roaring, like ocean surf, filling her ears, her heartbeat a drum, lulling her into eternal sleep.

Grey Havens, Middle-Earth, Year 1000

"Círdan! Círdan!" Círdan looked up from where he was talking to Olórin.

"What is it Aerdir?" Círdan asked. Aerdir came running in.

"We found an elleth, washed up on the shores! She is unconscious, but breathing," Aerdir explained.

"Let us go see this elleth," Olórin said, his curiosity peaked. They headed quickly to the healing rooms. Olórin observed the elleth as Círdan began to check over her with the other healers. Olórin observed the strange clothing on the floor next to her, her short strawberry blonde hair, her eyes closed, and the scarring on her arms.

"I know there are a lot of elves, but few with that hair color. I do not recognize this elleth," Olórin said.

"Neither do I. All we can do is wait for her to wake up, her mind and spirit feel damaged, but given a little time, she should wake up," Círdan said to Olórin.

"I think I will stay here till she wakes up, I want to hear her story," Olórin said to Círdan. Círdan nodded to Olórin.

"I will have a room prepared for you," Círdan said.

"Thank you, but that will not be necessary. I will wait here for her," Olórin said, sitting in the chair by her bed side.

"Let me know if she wakes up," Círdan said.

"Of course." Olórin sat and continued to study the elleth who lay in a deep asleep.

"What is your story?" Olórin asked her silently. Of course the elleth would not answer, she lay there asleep, oblivious to the world, her breathing deep.

Ashlynn groaned, feeling return to her body. She clutched at the sheets and her eyes snapped open. Her eyes first focused on the ceiling and noticed it wasn't tiled. She stared up at it in confusion.

"I am not at the hospital?" Ashlynn croaked out.

"Good you are awake, we were beginning to worry if you would never wake up," a kindly voice said to her. Ashlynn looked over to find an old man, in gray robes and a gray pointy hat. The old man offered her a glass of water and Ashlynn took it with relief, albeit her hands shook a little.

"Where am I?" Ashlynn said, after she took a sip of the water.

"You are in the Mithlond, you washed up upon the shore," the old man said. Ashlynn stopped sipping her water and stared at him, her mouth open.

"I was no where near the ocean, how did I end up in the water?" Ashlynn muttered to herself.

"What is your name child?"

"My name is Ashlynn, Ashlynn Flanagan," Ashlynn answered. The old man studied her carefully.

"Your name is not typical for an elleth," the old man, Olórin, said.

"I'm not an elleth. I'm human, just like you. Elleth, elleth, elves aren't real," Ashlynn snapped in disbelief.

"Then what about your pointed ears?" Olórin asked her carefully.

"I was just born this way, a genetic defect. My little brother, before he died only had one pointed ear, I was just graced with two," Ashlynn said.

"What was your mother's name?"

"I don't know. I never cared to find out," Ashlynn said, glancing away, her eyes darkening. She gripped the sheets of her bed and frowned. Olórin frowned at her as well.

"Well why don't we go to Imladris, there maybe Lord Elrond or Lady Galadriel might be able to help you. But first you need to get your strength back, before we leave for such a journey," Olórin said. Ashlynn glanced up and mouthed the two names, the names seemed familiar, but her she couldn't quite place where she heard them before.

"This has to be a joke, this has to be a dream," she muttered to herself.

"I can assure you Ashlynn, this is no dream," Olórin assured her.

"What is your name?" Ashlynn asked curiously.

"My name is Olórin. I will be right back, Círdan wanted to know when you woke up," he said to her. Olórin left the room and Ashlynn sighed, feeling like a hole in her chest.

"How do I prove this is not a coma? How-" Ashlynn questioned, but stopped, memories flooding back to her, of her being hit by a car. She chewed her bottom lip and shivered, rubbing her arms. She was not cold, but fear stirred inside of her. The car, the horn, the sirens, and then a white light, a voice. She tried to remember the voice, what it asked her of, but all she could hear was "choose." Ashlynn took a deep breath and relaxed.

"Let it come," she told herself. There was dark brown eyes staring at her, she remembered glancing over and seeing the blood and her eyes drifting shut and the roaring of the sea. She had felt so light then, light and she floated in a realm of pure light. It seemed like she spent years there, just floating in the light. Then, she, remembered finally ending up on fields of green.

"You are lost and now I have found you," a musical voice said. Ashlynn tried to focus on her voice, but she could only see a figure of light. It slowly came into focus and Ashlynn realized the voice belonged to a female. She had midnight inky hair and yet, it seemed to glitter with stars, her eyes were like shining stars, and her dress reminded Ashlynn of the pictures from NASA of galaxies and stars, and the universe in all.

"Who are you?"

"Who am I is not as important as you are, Ashlynn Flanagan. You have a choice before you, to go to the Halls of Mandos, or to be reborn again," she told her.

"The Halls of Mandos, is that like heaven?" Ashlynn asked. The woman smiled at her.

"In a sense, yes, all the souls of the Firstborn come to rest here for a time, before they are reborn," she answered her kindly.

"The Firstborn?"

"The elves, which you are one of them," the lady said.

"No I am not. I am human," Ashlynn asserted.

"In your world, the elves have long since died out. Your soul is a wayward soul belonging to this world that got lost, and I have been searching for you for a long time."

"Why search for me? I am not that important."

"Everyone is important, in the grand scheme of the cycle of life, every person, no matter how small their part effects the outcome of the world."

"If you had not died that day, the police officer would have never caught one of the biggest drug cartel leaders in your country. Your life will not be a foot note. If you had never lived there, the lives of the girls you have saved off the streets, would not have happened. One of the girls you saved will become a doctor and will eventually earn the noble peace prize for her efforts on creating a cure for aids," the lady explained. "Just because your life is only just a footnote, it has helped the universe flow through you. Now I need you to save someone for us. His part in this world is not done."

"So you are awake-" a different male voice spoke up, startling Ashlynn from her memories. She glanced up to noticed an elf with a white beard staring kindly at her.

"Uh, hello," she said, twisting the sheet in her hands.

"My name is Círdan. Olórin here said your name is Ashlynn Flanagan?"

"Yes, it is," Ashlynn answered. She glanced over to Olórin.

"Do you have a question for me Ashlynn?"

"What is the Hall of Mandos?" Olórin's expression seemed to turn more curious at the mention of the Hall of Mandos. Her voice turned into a whisper, "I was supposed to go there."

"The Hall of Mandos is where all the Children of Ilúvatar go to, only the elves remain for a time, before they are reborn or re-embodied," Olórin answered for her.

"This cannot be real, this doesn't happen on Earth," she said at last. Círdan glanced over at Olórin in concern over Ashlynn.

"My dear, this is very much real. You are here in Arda, here in Mithlond. This place is as much real as where you are from. If it gives you any comfort, I see you riding a strange contraption, among tall buildings. Your world is very strange to me," Olórin offered her. Ashlynn stared at him for a bit and tears slowly begin to pour down her face. She covered her face, trying to hide her tears. Olórin sat on the bed with her.

"There, there, it will be all okay," Olórin said trying to comfort her.

"I will never be able to return home will I," Ashlynn said between sobs.

"No I am sorry, I do not believe there is a way. Through death you came here and only through death you may be able to return," Olórin said quietly.

"I didn't want to die! There was so much left for me to do, so much yet to accomplish," Ashlynn sobbed quietly.

"Ashlynn, was does your name mean?" Ashlynn stopped crying for a bit at his question.

"My name is a messed up form of Aisling, which means dream," Ashlynn said at last and then explained, "My mother couldn't spell it right or pronounce it when she gave birth to me."

"Did your mother have pointed ears?" Olórin asked her.

"I don't know, she has been dead for many years," Ashlynn said with a shrug, her eyes darkening at the thought of her mother who died when she was ten.

"What about your father?"

"I have not spoken to my father in many years, I could care less about that ass. No I do not know their names, other than my last name is Flanagan. I have my birth certificate, but not on me, I hate looking at it," Ashlynn grunted out. She hated the idea that she was a child of convict and a junkie. Then again, that was hypocritical, because she had been a junkie. Ashlynn rubbed the scar on her arm not thinking, unconscious of the fact that she had drawn attention the giant scar.

"Can we stop talking about my family? I really don't want to acknowledge them, my mother and little brother is dead, my father is locked up some where, as far as I am concerned, Mrs. Smith who adopted me is my mother and her son is my brother."

"Alright, I promise to not ask you any more questions. Would you like a new name?" Olórin suggested.

"A new...name? Do I have to go through some legal process to change it?" Ashlynn asked, slightly in awe. She had wanted a new name, wanted to distance herself from her family originally, but the legal process was annoying to her, just like the rules and regulations that ruled her business.

"No you have no fees or process to go through, you can just choose, or ask someone to chose. Would you like an elvish name? It would make you fit in better with your fellow elves," Olórin suggested.

"I do not know elvish," Ashlynn said at last. Olórin gave he a smile.

"That is quite alright. I can give you one if you would like," Olórin said.

"Um sure, but I got to like how it sounds," Ashlynn said.

"How about Riressil?" Olórin suggested. Ashlynn shook her head no at that. Olórin continued to go through names before he finally suggested the one she liked.

"How about Faervel?"

"I like how that sounds," Ashlynn said with a grin.

Círdan who had remained quiet throughout the exchange spoke up then, "That is a strong name for one so young."

"What does it mean?" Ashlynn asked.

"It means Strong Spirit," Olórin said. Ashlynn smiled at this.

"I think that is rather accurate."

"My lords, we have a visitor," an ellon said walking in.

"Who is it?" Círdan asked.

"It is Lord Glorfindel of Imladris," the ellon replied. Olórin smiled at this.

"I was wondering when that rascal was going to show up," Olórin said with a grin.

" Aerdir, could you bring Faervel some soup? I believe she is hungry," Círdan asked. Aerdir looked startled and glanced at her. Ashlynn, no, Faervel smiled at Aerdir. He smiled and nodded.

"That I will do my lords," Aerdir said bowing. The three of them left the room and Faervel sighed, the silence of the room bothering her. Faervel glanced around her room for her backpack and found it. She opened it and smiled in relief at the familiar jeans and t-shirt. She quickly exchanged her dirty undergarments for clean ones and slipped into her familiar clothing and finally slipped on her sneakers. She went over to the table near the window and sat down.

"I brought you some soup and a bit of other – oh ! You are by the window, for a moment I thought you had left," Aerdir said. Faervel shook her head at this. Aerdir sat the food on the table and sat across from her.

"So your name is Faervel?" Aerdir asked curiously.

"Ah yes, it is," Aerdir smiled taking a sip of the soup. It was really good, but she had no idea what was in it. There was some green herbs floating in it. It seemed Aerdir was really curious about her and began to barrage her with a bunch of questions.

"What is your favorite activity?"

"I love to sing."

"What is your favorite song?"

"Magia, by Kalafina," answered Faervel truthfully. This drew a confused look from Aerdir.

"Could you sing a few lyrics for me?"

"Um sure, it goes a bit like this,-" Faervel sang quietly.

"You are a memory that continues to dream,
I am the sleepless tomorrow.
I will move forward in order to attain
the miracle of the two of us meeting.
What I hold in these frightened hands of mine
is a sword of handpicked flowers.
My feelings alone are all that I live for,
A wish that I brandish
with my heart."

"That is pretty good! I have never heard of that song!"

"It's not a song from my homeland, but from another country. That was just a translation, so it is not as good as the original," Faervel admitted, her singing had been a bit off she noted in frustration. She was usually right on with it, though she was no Lucy.

"How old are you?" Aerdir asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"I am thirty-five years old."

"Really? I would have mistake you for at least sixty. I just turned seventy years old yesterday," Aerdir answered. Faervel chewed her lip worriedly, not knowing how to react.

"What is the date today?"

"Oh! It is the 20th of June," answered Aerdir.

"The year?"

"Oh, well it is the year 1000," answered Aerdir looking at her worriedly.

"So I was born, on October 28th, the year 965," Faervel said thoughtfully, translating her birth date.

"I will have to remember that then!" Aerdir said and Faervel just shook her head.

"It is fine," Faervel said at last.

"Oh I should really late you eat! I will stop by later!" Aerdir said. Faervel waved at Aerdir as he left.

"For being seventy years old, you have as much energy as a twenty year old. I fear even with a name, I will always be different," Faervel said to herself. She picked up her spoon and began to work on the soup quietly. She tried what was obviously bread and really liked the seasoning with it.

"Man, if I had something like this bread in the bakery, I would have people swarming over it!" Faervel said out loud and she suddenly felt sad again. There was no way home, she had to wait until her life as an elf was over, even then, there was hardly a chance she could show up to her old bakery and be like, 'hey I am the founder!' She would never be Ashlynn Flanagan again, even if she carried who she was inside of her, her inner strength from what she had gone through. Ashlynn lost her appetite and stopped eating and turned her attention to the sky.

"Another diamond blue sky, with no cloud in sight, no clouds to darken my sunshine, my worries are blown away with the wind, burnt by the sun to ashes," Faervel sang to herself. She stood up and stretched, relief coursing through her as she went through the motions.

'I'm alive, somehow, in some distant land, or in some coma. The only thing I can do is just flow with it,' Faervel thought. Faervel thought about the lady she met in-between realms, she guessed, but she couldn't reach the memories anymore. Faervel sighed and scuffed her shoe in anger, before going on the floor and started doing push-ups, counting them out loud.

"One...two...three..." eventually she came to "ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred."

The door opened and Olórin came back in with Círdan and a blonde hair person she had yet to met. Her heart skipped a beat and an uncomfortable feeling settled into her chest.

"Didn't Aerdir bring you food?" Círdan asked.

"Yeah he did, one hundred and one, one hundred and two," Faervel continued to count. "I finished the soup."

"You should be resting," Círdan said.

"I have rested more than enough," Faervel stopped and moved so she was sitting up, looking up at the three before her. Her eyes coming to rest on the blonde haired elf whose eyes were narrowed at her. She glanced over back to Olórin and Círdan.

"Do you know how to ride a horse?" Olórin asked her.

"No I do not, never been near a horse in my entire life," Faervel said.

"I guess it is time for you to learn, we have a bit of a journey before we reach Imladris," Olórin said. Faervel sighed in defeat.

"By the way, are you going to introduce me to your friend?" Faervel asked.

"This is Lord Glorfindel of Imladris, he comes with some interesting news. Lord Glorfindel tell Faervel of your interesting visitor to Imladris," Olórin said.

"There is a boy named Lucian Smith in Imladris currently," Glorfindel said, his blue eyes dark.

"Does he have long straight blonde hair and bright blue eyes? Is he really tall?" Faervel asked Glorfindel.

"Yes he does look like that," Glorfindel said. Faervel grinned then, her eyes closing shut for a bit, relief flooding her. She opened her eyes and glanced at the males staring at her.

"You know this Lucian Smith?" Olórin asked.

"Yes of course! How else would I know what he would look like? He is my best friend in the whole wide world! So how long does it take to Mithlond to get to Imladris?" Faervel asked in excitement.

"It is a week long journey by horseback," Olórin said.

"You are going to Olórin?" Círdan asked him.

"I might as well spend time with Glorfindel and pay my respects to Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, and Lord Celeborn," Olórin answered in kind.

"Get some rest my dear, a week long horse back journey with no experience is no laughing experience," Olórin ordered and the males once again left the room, leaving Faervel alone. Faervel looked out the window.

"Lucian, I am coming," she said as the wind blew by. "Just you wait!"

2: Chapter Two & Three

Chapter Two

4th and 5th of July, Year 1000, Arda, on the road from Mithlond to Imladris

To say that the trip to Imladris was eventful, would be the biggest lie from Arda, to Earth. Though to be honest, being eventful would definitely not be a good thing. The most eventful parts of it was the moments involving Faervel and her attempts to ride and disembark. The first time Faervel tried to dis-embark, she fell off and laid there stunned for a moment, while Aerdir, who journeyed with them, came over and helped her up. Glorfindel just glared at her the entire time and at one point muttered how she slowed them down.

"We shall be there tomorrow Faervel," Aerdir said. Faervel offered a small smile to Aerdir, who was trying to comfort her. Thankfully in her backpack she still had a huge bottle of painkillers she normally used for her headaches.

Faervel just sat and stared at the campfire, feeling utterly useless when Aerdir was called away. It was depressing to her, to be so useless. Yes, she had hiked with Lucy, and she had even done some backpacking, but this was something else. Elves would scout ahead looking for signs for yrch apparently, some evil monsters that Faervel clearly did not want to run into. They had no compass and even if they did, it was not like Faervel knew the way. Faervel did not know how to start a fire the way the elves did it as she did not have a Magnesium Fire Starter. When Glorfindel had realized her uselessness he had told her in some not so polite terms, "just stay out of the way."

Faervel rested her head on her knees, breathing deeply, trying hard not to cry. She was in pain, depressed, and hating life every moment on the road. Faervel loved hiking, loved running, but horseback riding was something else, heck traveling in medieval like times was something else. She took another shaky breath, promising herself to not cry, she would not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her cry, or upset. She would bear this, she would endure this, only one more day and she would see Lucy. Her thoughts kept rushing through her and she drifted to a light sleep, her eyes glazed over, but open. She tilted and fell to the side, asleep. Aerdir came back then to find her asleep. He laid a blanket down and moved her onto it, wrapping her gently in it.

"You should not be so harsh on her Glorfindel," Olórin chastised his old friend, after watching Glorfindel glare at the young elleth.

"Everyone needs to pull their weight Olórin," Glorfindel said stiffly.

"She is young, inexperienced, but do not mistake her youth for being childish. Be kind, she is willing to learn and to help out. Do you not see her gathering firewood, or helping Aerdir with the tasks around camp?" Olórin said. Glorfindel grunted a yes at that. His eyes darkened as he watched Aerdir place her on a blanket and wrapped her up. He clenched his hands and stalked away.

Faervel's eyes became alert in the middle of the night. Many of the elves were in a restful sleep, though she knew from experience that there was someone always on watch. She glanced to see Aerdir on the other side and that the fire had died down low. Faervel laid there for a bit, trying to get to sleep, but failed. She sighed and pulled the blanket around as she sat up. It was not really cold, but the weight of a blanket was familiar to her. She stared at it for a bit, before glancing up the stars, studying the unfamiliar patterns. She sang softly to herself, hoping to not disturb the elves around her.

"I see you are awake," said a familiar voice from behind her. Faervel glanced up startled as Glorfindel sat beside her.

"Ah, yes I am. Are you on watch?"

"Yes, but I could not sleep."

"Olórin said -"

"Whatever Olórin said, is what Olórin said. It does not mean you have to take his advice, especially if you do not want to. You have to walk your own path and do what you want to. I am sure a mighty elf lord like you does not do everything someone tells you to do," Faervel said. They sat in silence for a while. Faervel glanced over at him, her heart pounding in her chest. His features did not seem to dim in the firelight. Oh yes it was dark out, but light shone within, even if it was dimmed currently. There was times when it surged.*

'Men could never compare to the beauty of Glorfindel, no actor could get him right. Maybe it was a good thing that Glorfindel was not in the movies...wait! The movies! Lord of the Rings! Tolkien! How could I forget about Círdan the Shipwright, Glorfindel the Balrog slayer, or any of those characters?' Faervel thought startled.

"What were you singing?" Glorfindel asked, finally breaking the silence and interrupting her thoughts.

"The Highwaymen, sung originally by Loreena McKennitt. It is originally a poem by Alfred Noyes," Faervel said, shifting underneath the blanket.

"I have never heard of her or the poem," Glorfindel said at last.

"I would be surprised if you had, she is not a singer from Arda," Faervel said at last.

"Olórin told me you come from another world," Glorfindel said. Faervel smiled bitterly at the thought.

"Yes I do and I miss it every day. I miss the familiarity of it, of knowing what to do. I do not mean to be a pain, but I am out of my element here. All the conveniences I am used to, all the advances I am used to, do not exist here. At least the Eldar have got running hot and cold water, now if only you could have showers. Do the humans here have running hot water?" Faervel asked curiously of Glorfindel.

"No they do not, only Minas Tirith has running water of any sort," Glorfindel said. "Is Running water common where you are from?"

"It is. You guys don't have bikes, or cars, all you got is your feet, your horses, and I am guessing wagons? What is amazing about cars is that you can travel the distance of a three day hike in an hour," Faervel said, thinking of her hike along the North South Trail in Rhode Island one time with Lucian.

"What did you do there?" Glorfindel asked.

"I was a baker, but I am also a musician and a singer. I played in a band with Lucy, Lucian," said Faervel.

"I am guessing you are the one he calls Ash?"

"Yes, I am the one."

"You are all he talks about," Glorfindel said. Faervel heard something in his tone that she could not quite place but dismissed it.

"I would say we grew up together, but that is not true. It was more like he saved me life, him and his mother," Faervel said with a smile, resting her head on her knees.

"You sound like you love him."

"I do, he's my best friend, and he has been there for me through so much," Faervel explained.

"He will die, in what, thirty or forty years," Glorfindel said, his voice dark. Faervel glanced up and looked at Glorfindel. His hands were clenched tight and while his face was expressionless, there was anger in his eyes.

"I know that. I just try not to think about it. The fact is, as far as I know, he could get deathly ill tomorrow and die. Life is a gamble and you can only live in the now. Should I spend every moment afraid that someone is going to die on me? All you can do is keep living until death strikes and then you just have to pick up, move on, and let go. When he dies, he dies, I'll cross that bridge when I get there," Faervel said softly.

"You make acceptance of death so easy," Glorfindel muttered.

"It is not that it is easy Lord Glorfindel, but you have to say goodbye when it happens. Your lives have parted ways and they would not want you wasting your life, languishing over the fact that their life has gone out." Faervel glanced over to see Glorfindel studying her with a thoughtful face, though anger still lingered in his eyes.

"There is nothing I can do to stop his passing, when he dies, I'll cry. But so long as I remember him, Lucy will still be alive in my heart. That's why making memories are important, why never leaving someone in anger is so important, you never know when those words are going to be your last. That is what I try to live by, but I am not perfect," Faervel continued. "Anyways, you cannot help but love someone like family when they have seen you at your worse and held your hair back as you threw up into a can."

"He is not your family though."

"Of course not! We are not related by blood, but by heart, I am sure you elves have this happen to. Don't you get all buddy with elves and men who fight at your back?" Faervel asked.

"I do."

"Well it is like that, sort of, but in it's own way. I owe Lucy my life, I am alive because of him," Faervel asserted. Faervel ran her hand through her hair frustrated."Why am I even arguing with you over this?"

The two sat in silence, waiting for the dawn, neither willing to speak. Faervel just stared at the dying embers, trying to soothe her nerves. She never liked thinking of the past, even if she was beyond it now. She was beyond that now, no cutting, no drugs, no suicide attempts, no stealing, or running with people who were bad influences. Sure her employees had less than stellar backgrounds, but hers was not squeaky clean either.

"Try to get some sleep, we will set off after breakfast," Glorfindel said dismissively. Glorfindel got up and left her alone. Faervel huffed in frustration, before curling up with the blanket on the ground, finally drifting into a light sleep again. She didn't awake again until light was just creeping over the horizon and the other elves began to stir. Faervel sat up and stretched, feeling incredibly alert and well rested. She used her fingers to comb through her hair, taming it. She took the blanket and shook it out, getting the dirt out of it before folding it.

"Good morning Faervel," Aerdir said as he sat up.

"Good morning Aerdir," Faervel replied with a smile. Aerdir folded his blanket and took it from Faervel and walked away to help with the breaking of the camp. Faervel glanced up at the sound of footsteps to find Olórin making his way to her.

"How do you like traveling by horseback?" Olórin asked.

"It is rustic. I hurt, I ache, but I know it is because I am not used to it. Whoever said elves are perfect and graceful have yet to meet me," Faervel said shaking her head.

"You are young yet Faervel, even if your heart does not feel it," Olórin said in kind. Faervel just gave him a look, a cross between surprise and pained.

"You see more than you should," she said at last.

"It is your story and I for one, will not tell it for you. Who you tell it is up to you," Olórin said at last giving her a meaningful look.

"Well thank you for your advice," Faervel deadpanned. Aerdir came back and offered her a bit of bread.

"It is one of the elvish way breads," Aerdir explained seeing Faervel peering at it.

"Thanks! I just kind of wish I knew what was in it, I love to bake," Faervel explained.

"It is only the maidens who know as they are the ones that make it," Aerdir said.

"Ah!"

"Eat up! This is a different kind then we have been on, eat half instead of just a few bites with this one," Aerdir urged. Faervel tried it and was delighted to find it tasted really good. It had dried fruits, oats, and some type of herbs in it. The camp quickly broke down and the elves removed all of their presence except for the fires. Aerdir helped Faervel mount the gentle mare she had been provided. Faervel once again wondered at why so many elves traveled with them, was it for protection, was there diplomatic ties to be done? She sighed and turned her attention to her surroundings.

"You look upset," Aerdir commented to her quietly.

"I am not upset, just...thinking."

"If you are not careful your face will get stuck like that," teased Aerdir.

"Maybe it is just suck like that already," Faervel said back. The two fell back into silence, riding along. She glanced ahead of her to see that Glorfindel was scowling at her again.

'He is such a sour face!' Faervel thought, scowling.

"Now that is the look of being upset," Aerdir said.

"Yes well someone has their grumpy pants on." Aerdir looked at her quizzically at that. "I mean someone keeps glaring at me. I mean, what have I done to deserve such a sour face? Nothing! I just exist!"

"You would have to ask whoever is glaring at you."

"I know that, you don't have to tell me, but I thought it would go away now..." Faervel muttered. Faervel took a deep breath, trying to let the emotions tight in her heart go. She tried to focus on another top, only finally succeeding when she begin to think of the music Lucy and her had been working on. She started humming the music quietly, tapping her fingers on her thigh to the beat. She continued to work on it in her head, imaging the sounds of her guitar.

"I'm guessing my lady you are a musician?" An ellon riding along side her asked.

"Yes, my friend Lucy taught me how to play the piano and the guitar. It is a six-string instrument."*

"We have an instrument called a lute that has six strings. Hopefully sometime we can convince you to play in the Hall of Fire in Imladris," the ellon said.

"Maybe if Lucy is up to it," Faervel said, offering a tight smile. Faervel slipped deep into her thoughts thinking hard upon what she knew. She wondered how much Lucy gave away to Lord Elrond, but Lucy was never a fan of reading or fantasy. He spent all his time working on the band, advertising them, and when not, he was playing on the city sidewalks. Lucy had worked hard on getting them signed and just last year they finally got a good contract. They had released their first album last month and had been about to go on first tour, outside of the east coast. They were still an opening band for a major band, but it was something.

'Or at least, it was something. Now I am here, but I am still mortal right? I am not an elf, that could not have changed,' Faervel thought to herself, her eyes glazed in thought. 'I have to age right? I wasn't born to this beautiful people.'

Faervel descended into a moody silence, her expression despondent. Aerdir kept glancing at her in concern, but she paid no heed. She would sometimes chew her lip as she thought more and more depressing thoughts, as they spiraled out from death and mortality. It was mid-day when they stopped for a break.

"This is the Ford of Bruinen, we are close to Imladris now," Aerdir said as he sat down beside her and offered a water skin. Faervel took it gratefully.

"I'm glad and thank you for the water."

"I overheard you are meeting a friend here."

"Yeah, my friend Lucy. Apparently he is here according to Glorfindel."

"Do you love him?"

"What's with that question?" Faervel asked surprised, then laughed. Faervel noticed elves looking in her direction and shook her head.

"Your eyes always get soft when you talk about him," Aerdir noted.

"He's my brother Aerdir, not my blood brother, but by adoption."

"You are just avoiding the question," Aerdir said.

"It's a stupid question," Faervel muttered. She kept her voice lowered but answered in this manner: "I've never cared for being in love, never felt that emotion, never wanted to. I care for Lucy greatly, but we have a long history together, twenty years of it. You don't spend twenty years of sharing your life with someone without caring for them. Lucy loves his music to much to be involved with anyone and I am to broken to fall in love."

"I don't think you are broken."

"Then you really don't know me, nor know my life's story, but that is a story best for rainy days, not sunny days like this one. Stop pressing for answers to questions that I am not willing to give," Faervel said getting moody. She got up and walked away and went to her horse. She took out the brush provided her and started to brush the horse.

"Miluroch," Faervel muttered stroking the mane of the mare. Faervel told it meant "Kind horse" or something along those lines, because the horse had a very gentle nature. Faervel sighed and continued to brush the horse, singing softly to herself.

"I heard the moon talking to the sun, about her soul about her gun," Faervel sang.

"She said she had no place else to run, he stay said here. She asked why he was so kind, to this planet who was so blind," she continued. She hummed the next verses as she moved around the horse, slowly brushing her, feeling a calm settle over her.

"...and she said yes. And the sun held the moon in his arms, and she cried and snuggled within his warmth. But the day could not last without the night, so they started to dance, around the earth," Faervel sang. The mare neighed and Faervel smiled and continued.

"And they there pranced around the ball of dirt, where little ones play and know not of their love. They know not of love, we know not of love," Faervel sang. Faervel closed her eyes for a moment and slipped back into humming the song. She continued to brush, the action soothing her heart. Faervel hated the fact that even after so long, her memories still bothered her. She had tried therapy, tried the drugs, but they did not do a good job of numbing the pain inside.

"One should not be pouting," Glorfindel said, startling Faervel. Faervel just stopped humming and stared at him.

"Are you talking to me again?" Faervel asked hostilely. Glorfindel gave her a sardonic look.

"I thought I would give you company, since you keep running away from it. I see I am not needed, I shall take my leave of you then," Glorfindel said.

"Wait! No! Stay, please," Faervel said. Her heart pounded and that funny feeling was in her chest again. She did not know how to describe it. It made her feel faint, weak, and jittery. It was an uncomfortable feeling and she didn't know how to deal with it. Glorfindel's face was impassive, but something stirred in those blue eyes. Faervel couldn't help but note they were brighter than they had been since she had first met him. She glanced away.

"What is Imladris like?" Faervel asked Glorfindel quietly.

"You will see by mid-afternoon," Glorfindel answered.

"No, tell me about it. I mean, I've always listened to people talk about their homes from their perspective." Glorfindel sighed at this and his blonde her bobbed in a nod. Faervel's fingers itched to touch it, to see if it was as silky as it looked.

"It is a beautiful place," Glorfindel began. "It is hidden deep in the valley, surrounded by streams, waterfalls and the trees. It is also at the foot of the Hithaeglir, the Misty Mountains. Men call it the Last Homely House West of the Mountains and it is true enough. The mornings are often misty and filling with the songs of birds. There is a tranquility there."

"Is it tranquil like Mithlond?"

"They are different kinds of tranquil. Mithlond is beautiful place, but full of sadness, for elves go there to go to Aman. Imladris is a place of peace, healing, and learning. The summers are really nice, they are nor sweltering hot and while the winter brings us a lot of snow, it is not as extreme as the mountains. The seasons are more pronounced."

"It sounds beautiful, I cannot wait to see what your home looks like," Faervel said quietly.

"The autumn is my favorite time, the colors of the foliage, is none that you shall see except further into the mountains," Glorfindel said with great love.

"Autumn is my favorite season as well. Lucy and I, every autumn would would head up to Maine in October. Maine is such a pretty state during autumn and we would always go white water rafting. Out of all the places I have been during autumn, Maine is my favorite. Lucy has dragged me all around the world, I guess it pays to be a the son of a dead rich man," Faervel said quietly. Faervel noticed out of the corner of her eyes, how the light in Glorfindel seemed to darken as she mentioned.

"Lucy's mom adopted me. She spent a lot of money fighting the courts to get custody of me," Faervel said at last.

"Why would someone have to fight courts for the custody of a child?" Glorfindel asked, his eyes slightly dark.

'Is that a thing for Glorfindel, his eye color changing to match his moods?' Faervel couldn't help but wonder.

"It is just how it is done, I guess. I was really young at the time and did not really understand what was going on. Sometimes it makes me wonder how just once choice causes such ripples in the universe, how if you did not make one choice at a certain time, your entire life would have been different," Faervel said softly.

"I think in your own words you said, 'all you can do is live.'" Faervel smiled at Glorfindel and nodded.

"Yeah, you cannot spend forever agonizing over every little thing. Life is happening now, you cannot have your head stuck so far in the past that you loose the moment of now," Faervel said. "At least that is what I try to do. It works best that way. The pain never really goes from your heart and sometime it stalks you, sometimes it just arises and maybe that is a day to spend in bed. As Mrs. Smith, my adoptive mother once told me, all you can do is learn to dance in the storm."

"The break is almost over," Glorfindel said.

"Ah, I'm ready to go whenever," Faervel said.

"Would you like help getting on the horse?" Glorfindel asked.

"Yes, please." Glorfindel placed his hands on her, helping her onto the horse. The feeling inside of her intensified suddenly, jittery, queasy stomach. His hands dropped away as he settled her onto the mare. Faervel glanced into his eyes, her heart pounding fast.

"Thank you," she said at last, breaking the moment.

"You are welcome," Glorfindel said and he turned away, walking away from her. Faervel stared at his back and caught his gaze as he looked back at her. Faervel couldn't help but smile as he quickly turned his gaze forward as he gave orders to break camp.

"Well Miluroch, that was interesting," Faervel said patting the mare. The mare just snorted in response.

"Faervel you already up on your horse!" Aerdir exclaimed.

"Glorfindel helped me," Faervel said in response. Aerdir looked sullen all of a sudden as the other elves mounted.

"I see." Glorfindel gave the call to ride out and the elves took off then continuing on towards Imladris. Faervel finally noticed they had stopped traveling on the path since the last bridge. She scratched her face thoughtfully. Faervel felt lost in this new world, not knowing how to deal with the times being backwards. She wondered how the elves would react in her world, to the hookers, the gangs, the junkies, the dancing, the strip clubs, and hell even normal clubs. Her brief time with them had taught her how prim and proper they acted.

"Lost in thought again Faervel?" Olórin asked smiling kindly at her as he rode up beside her.

"Yes, well, I cannot help but compare my life from before, to what I have seen. I feel like a fish out of water here," Faervel said.

"What does a fish out of water have to do with being here?" Aerdir asked.

"It is an expression Aerdir. It basically means I am unfamiliar with the elements around me, leaving me feeling vulnerable. Aerdir, life were I am from is so completely different from here. To put it into the simplest terms, I am do not know how to deal with people are so nice, kind, prim, proper, and respectful. Even though I have just met you all, I can tell the goodness in each of you, even if some are you angry, or hurting, or bitter over some manner. I do not have to fear you like I have to fear men," Faervel said, her hands trembling, her voice shaking, as old memories stirred. Her expression was haunted from seeing the dark side of life, of humanity.

"I am sorry, but it gets me so riled up. It gets me so angry and out of all that I regret, I wish I had lived my full life there trying to change society, to be a voice. That was what my friends and I in the band were trying to do, what I was trying to do with my bakery. If you are silent about your pain, they'll kill you and say you enjoyed it," Faervel bit out. Aerdir just stared at her surprised. The entire group of elves had stopped moving and stared at her. She gave them a small bitter smile.

"Are you alright, my lady?" An ellon asked. Faervel glanced over at Glorfindel briefly to see him staring at her with concern, like all the others. Faervel sighed.

"Yes I am fine, I am just angry and bitter. I know the anger does me no good here, but it will fade in time. Let's move on, please?" Faervel said, glancing at each ellon pleadingly. They nodded and continued on.

"Why not try to focus on being here in Arda more? Would you like to learn more about the elves?" Olórin asked gently.

"Yes please, how long do the Eldar live?" Faervel asked quietly. Aerdir snorted at this question.

"Don't you know?"

"No I do not Aerdir, unlike you I grew up among humans," Faervel said.

'Though I wonder if I am one of the elves or if I am just a mortal with the genetic defect of pointy ears? I wonder if that lady was right at all?' Faervel privately wondered.

"Faervel you shall live long as you do not die from any wounds or a broken heart," Olórin said. Faervel stared at Olórin then like he had two heads.

'That's right...I forgot about that. Arwen dies from a broken heart...'

"Oh. I see." Olórin smiled at her.

"Did you know that red hair is not common among the Eldar? With those violet eyes of yours, you are going to be a novelty among the elves," Olórin said. Faervel grimaced at the idea of her being famous for her looks.

"I'd rather be famous for what I do, then my looks," Faervel said.

"How young are you?"

"I am thirty-five." Olórin made a strange noise.

"Among the elves, they do not reach their full stature till they are fifty. They reach majority at one hundred and are then considered mature elves," Olórin said.

"Please do not tell me that I am going to be at the mercy of having some kind of foster parents?" Faervel said.

"I am sure that something will be decided that will be beneficial for you," Olórin said.

"Well that is not comforting," Faervel muttered. Olórin just smiled at her again, his aged face kindly. Glorfindel dropped by them now, on the side of Aerdir. Olórin rode on the other side of her.

"We will be Imladris soon. I already sent a messenger ahead to inform Elrond of the number in our party," Glorfindel told them.

"Ah thank you Glorfindel. Now what other questions do you have Faervel?"

"When can I learn Sindarin?"

"I am sure Lord Erestor would like another pupil," Aerdir muttered.

"That sounds like a fantastic idea," Glorfindel said to Aerdir, his eyes glinting roguishly. "Maybe you should re-take your lessons on history with him."

"No! No thank you! I have no desire to!" Aerdir then took of towards the front.

"Well that is one way to get rid of the young ellon," Olórin said, smiling at Glorfindel. Glorfindel just shrugged innocently. His blue eyes were bright and playful.

'What is with me constantly looking his eyes? Ugh!' Faervel felt slightly uncomfortable.

"Lord Erestor is a hard task master and hard to please," Glorfindel explained to Faervel.

"Ah, then he would get along with Mrs. Smith real well. She worked me harder than any tutor, harder then my college teachers ever did," Faervel said.

"What is this college?" Glorfindel asked curiously.

"It is um, a place of higher education, were you often learn a trade or skill that you use for life. I went in for business, like, a merchant. I guess it would be similar to what, um, apprenticeships?" Faervel tried to explain.

"I think I understand," Glorfindel said. Glorfindel glanced around his surroundings. "Ah we are almost there, just up this hill."

They came over the hill and Imladris in it's glory stood before her. It elicited such awe from Faervel she just stared agape at it. Glorfindel took the reigns of the horse and led the horse along. Faervel lacked the words to describe the place, realizing that the description Glorfindel gave her did not do it justice. Faervel noted the different waterfalls in the difference, the mountains in the background, covered in mist. Imladris intertwined with the surroundings itself, it was an organic look, with gentle curves. The colors themselves were natural, and nature grew on top of it, and around it. Imladris was very open with many balconies and verandas. As she drew close Faervel noted the water fountains, mixed in. The columns were carved, a cross between looking like nature, often trees, and roman columns. The ceilings were very high.

"This place is beautiful," whispered Faervel.

"It could be your home if you decide to stay. Elrond welcomes all," Glorfindel said.*

"I think I may take that offer up." They continued along the way, Imladris coming closer, and more details revealed themselves to her. The details were astounding, beautiful, sometimes intricate and sometimes simple. They stopped in small yard in front of the building, where a tall ellon stood, dark haired, with bright gray eyes, a silver circlet upon his head. His robes flowed around him. Glorfindel dismounted and went up to him.

"Lord Glorfindel, welcome home. You leave alone and come back with a small party," Elrond said mildly. Glorfindel laughed at this. Just then Lucy came dashing out from the doorway. Faervel let out a yell and fell off the horse, uncaring about the fall. She rolled up right to her feet and ran past Elrond and Glorfindel colliding with Lucy. Lucy picked her up and twirled her about.

"Ash! Ash! Boy am I so glad to see you!"

"Oh God! Lucy!" Faervel let out a laugh. They spun around together.

"I see you brought someone who knows our visitor," Elrond said to Glorfindel. Faervel stopped laughing and stared at Lucy for a moment.

"What is it Ash?" Out of no where, she slapped him.

"What the hell Ash!"

"That is for going near 5th street! How many times did I tell you to never show your face around there!"

"They were making threats against you and your bakery!"

"I don't give a shit! You tell me! I told you-"

"I wanted you away from that life! Even at 35 you were still in touch with the low life!"

"You are the son of a rich boy and the hardest days of your life is picking which of the girl's that swoon over you is the one you want! You don't know the streets boy," Faervel snarled, looking fierce in her anger. An artistic expression that would be perfect at the moment would be that Faervel had flames in her eyes.

"Would you two can it?" A girl said walking out. She was petite barely reaching five feet. She was incredibly tiny compared to Lucy who was six foot five. Faervel herself was five foot eight. She had faded dyed pink hair for about five inches and the next couple of inches was a dark brown. Faervel recognized her instantly, but was amazing.

"Ava...?" Faervel asked questioningly and almost fearfully. It couldn't be...could it? Ava gave her a smile. Faervel gave a cry and hugged Ava.

"You clean?"

"Yeah, been so for twenty years," Faervel said.

"You two know each other?"

"I taught Ash here very street trick I could. She was always nimble and quick with her hands," Ava grinned.

"I cannot believe you are here! I thought you died!" Ava gave her an exaggerated smile.

"Yeah, well I did, I was given a new lease on life. Seems like you did, oh look at your cute pointy ears," Ava said. Ava tweaked Faervel's ears and Faervel jumped out of the way shuddering.

"Don't do that! I hate when you do that."

"I cannot help it doll! You are just to cute. You look like a cute modern fairy. You really look all healthy now, all aglow and everythin'" Ava said.

"Um thanks, helps that I run marathons and hike and I get dragged around by this fool," Faervel said pointing at Lucy.

"I'm sure this darling is a fool, a beautiful fool." Faervel laughed and finally let go of Ava.

"I am really sorry, I am just so excited to see my friends," Faervel apologized to Glorfindel and Elrond. Elrond gave her an easy smile.

"It is alright my dear. What is your name?"

"She's the one and only Ashlynn Flanagan!" Ava said proudly.

"Ah yes, that is my birth name, but please call me Faervel," Faervel said politely.

"Of course," Elrond gave her an easy smile. Elrond gave a smile and various elves came out, "My staff will help you all settle in and show you to your rooms. I will send someone to escort you to dinner Faervel. You can get a grand tour tomorrow."*

"Thank you," Faervel said. Faervel followed a dark haired elleth to a room, who showed her how to use the small bathroom to freshen up. Faervel washed the grime off her face. When she walked out, her small bag was already in the room. She took out the one outfit that had been made for her quickly. The seamstress in Mithlond had thankfully had two extra sets of tunics and leggings. It had taken little time to sow them up to her size as they had been made for an ellon originally. Apparently the seamstress like designing clothing and new styles and often had several pieces ready to, if need be, cut and sewed to size. Faervel slipped into the bathroom and quickly washed up and dressed, feeling relief at the new clothes and the grime gone.

Faervel stared at the mirror, realizing how much she looked like a boy again. If it was not for the fact that the seamstress had cut and sewed it so show her more girlish figure, Faervel wondered if she would be mistaken in looks for a short ellon. Many of the male elves were rather tall, though Glorfindel was taller than Lucy and it made her feel small in stature. She was used to seeing eye to eye with most men. Some of the elleth Faervel had noticed when guided through the hallways to her room were a few at her height and the others were shorter.

Faervel continued to look critically at herself, feeling plain. The other feature she had noted among the elves were their long hair. Faervel had originally cut her hair really short because less people recognized her when she had short hair. It was strange, but somehow it had made a difference in putting distance between her dark path. Now here, she stood, terrifyingly so, with short strawberry blonde hair, violet eyes, when the normal seemed mainly dark hair, dark eyes, looking every bit feminine.

A knock on the bedroom door interrupted her mocking of herself. Faervel took a deep breath and walked away from the mirror, trying to push away the feelings of being a poor imitation of the Eldar around her. Faervel opened the door and was surprised to find Glorfindel there.

"I am here to escort you to dinner," Glorfindel said.

"I..."

"Would your rather me get someone asked?" Glorfindel interrupted.

"No," Faervel said shaking her head. "No thank you. I am just surprised that is all."

"Oh," was all Glorfindel said in response.

"Do not worry, I appreciate it. It is always easier to go in front of a crowd of people with someone familiar with you," admitted Faervel.

"I will have to give you that." Glorfindel offered his arm and Faervel stared at it.

"Uh, what do I do?" Glorfindel looked at her in surprise then showed her how to place her arm with his.

"Your world is really different from here," he muttered.

"Yeah, sorry," Faervel said.

"No do not worry, it just means you have much to learn. I will introduce you to Lord Erestor tonight, maybe we can start your lessons soon," Glorfindel said.

"Alas! You shall throw me to such a cruel fate of studying already?" Faervel teased.

"I just might," Glorfindel said and laughed. Faervel smiled at this laugh, like the sounding of it. It sent her stomach a flutter and queasy. Glorfindel noted that Faervel look oddly pale for an elleth.

"Are you alright Faervel?"

"I am just feeling...out of place, Lord Glorfindel."

"Just Glorfindel please. I could see how you would feel that way, but do not fear. You are a guest of Elrond and deserve the up most of respect. The rules of hospitality remain while you are a guest."

"But they will all stare me," whined Faervel said as they walked down the hallways.

"Let them stare, you are new here. They will tire eventually." The strange feelings inside of her kept ebbing and flowing as he walked her down the hallway explaining were various hallways lead to. Glorfindel told her he would give her a tour tomorrow if she wished it. Faervel practically begged wanting someone familiar besides Ava and Lucy around her.

They entered the room and while Glorfindel guided her to a spot at the high table everyone stared at her. Faervel couldn't help but feel like a freak under their gaze. Elrond and what Faervel figured was his wife, Celebrían sat at the head of the table with Olórin on his right and Glorfindel on his left. Faervel sat next to Glorfindel and in-between apparently Erestor. Next to Olórin was a beautiful lady of golden-glowing hair, piercing blue eyes, and an ellon of silver-white hair and gray eyes. Then followed two identical ellon and a really beautiful elleth. Faervel could only surmise that this was Lady Galadriel, her husband Lord Celeborn, and their grandchildren, Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen. Next to them was Ava and Lucy and Faervel mentally groaned. There was other elleth and ellon at the table, including another dark haired beauty next to Erestor. Faervel was grateful that they did not eat in silence. Olórin passed tidings of Aman to Elrond and Galadriel.

"Erestor, I have a new pupil for you," Glorfindel said grinning at Erestor. Erestor groaned.

"Please do not tell me you are trying to get me to teacher Aerdir again," Erestor complained.

"No. This is Faervel, she is to be your new student," Glorfindel explained. Erestor looked at her critically.

"What do you know?" Erestor asked her.

"She knows one plus one is two," Ava said laughing. Faervel glared at Ava.

"Ava for your information I did get a GED and I got two degrees, I got my bachelor's in Culinary Arts, and a masters in business," Faervel said. Ava stopped and stared at her.

"No shit, Jesus Christ, when did you become so smart?"

"She has always been smart Ava. No thanks to your help," Lucy said bitterly.

"Let us not get these hot headed emotions running rampant here. To answer your question Lord Erestor, anything I know is pretty much useless here. I can cook, I can sing, do not ask me to read music as I never learned how. Do not give me that look Lucy, you are the one that taught me to figure out music by ear. I am not genius at music like you are, but I do pretty good. Any history I know is now a moot point, I can read and write English, but that is it. Basically start from the beginning, just do not treat me like a little child. I am a quick learner, throw at me whatever you can and I will tell you if it is to much." Faervel said determined to learn about the new world she was in. Erestor stared at for a moment and nodded.

"I will give you a week to assimilate here. Glorfindel will show you to my officer where you shall have lessons," Erestor said.

"Thank you! You will not regret this," Faervel said excitedly.

"When did she get so excited about learning new things?" Ava asked Lucy in a whisper.

"She loves to learn, stop bringing up her past. You know she does not like it. She has been happy for a while and clean, so stop trying to bring her down," Lucy whispered back, trying to talk quietly. Faervel heard it and bit her lip knowing the other elves heard them as well. She saw their glances. Glorfindel patted her leg comfortingly. Faervel glanced up and smiled at him briefly before turning her attention to her food. She missed Erestor mouthing the question of 'what is so bad about her past?' and Glorfindel only shrugging in response. Faervel quickly lost appetite. She ate a little to sustain her and stared at her plate. Lucy watched her in concern.

/ I'm a lazy sob and not translating it into French, or making anyone figure out the French. Also Elvish in this chapter is in 'italics' due to the fact that Faervel does not yet know it. /

"Please eat," Lucy said to her in French, confusing everyone at the table with the strange language.

"I am not hungry," Faervel said back in kind. Ava looked between the two, annoyed.

"Please speak in a language we can understand you two," Ava said.

"Look I do not want to bring up the past, but eat a little more," he continued in French.

"Please do not force me to. I do not feel so good right now," Faervel responded back.

"I am going to be watching you carefully at breakfast. I better not find you throwing up," Lucy finished in French.

"You do not have to worry about that, I promise," Faervel said switching back into English, or in this case, the common tongue of the land. She glared at Ava, "Do not ask questions. You do not deserve the right."

"Phew who has a hot temper now?" Faervel just said nothing and took another bite of food, forcing herself to eat so as not to respond.

"There is no need for this at the table, please have peace," Elrond spoke to them.

"I apologize," Faervel said, bowing her head in response. Ava just glared at her. At first, Faervel had been so excited to see Ava. Ava had helped her on the streets, teaching her how to pick pocket and what stores to steal from. It had worked really well until Ava forced Faervel into being arrested by the police, which had sent her to juvy. Then she was returned home, until she had run away again, afraid of her own father. Faervel took another bite of the food, trying to switch from memories into focusing on here and now. The elves around them began to rapidly speak in Sindarin, sometimes glancing at the new arrivals.

"It seems our new guests have much anger between them," Galadriel said to Elrond and Celebrían.

"Please do not pressure the elleth into giving answers she is not ready to give, my lady," Olórin said to Galadriel pointedly.

"Her spirit is greatly injured, surely she will fade from it Olórin," Galadriel said.

"I think she is aptly named cousin, she is strong of spirit. I do not think the pain in her is any new hurt. It is old, she has mentioned twenty years often, and her adoption by her friend's mother. She will not fade so easily," Glorfindel said.

"That may be, but in time such anger and hurt harms the soul, cousin," Galadriel said. Her wise old eyes studying Glorfindel.

"Do not interfere with my pupil's studies," Erestor all but glared at the elves. They continued to argue back and forth about Faervel and what to do with her. Faervel grew tired, her eyes drooping as it drew late. The food was taken away. She drifted asleep, leaning into Glorfindel with a yawn, before passing into dreamland. Glorfindel looked startled as the red-haired elleth fell asleep against him. Erestor laughed at his friend's face. Glorfindel sighed.

"I will take Faervel to her room, could you send a maid Elrond to change her," Glorfindel asked Elrond.

"I shall," Elrond said. Glorfindel got up carefully and situated the young elleth in his arms, carrying out of the Meal Hall, along whispers running amok the elves.

*Notes:

Faervel had some slight abilities towards the extra sixth sense. I think elves would be more in tune with themselves and others, being able to perceive more. But no, she can't really see the future, only guess from her impressions, her instincts that warn her. Her time on the streets and being in 'danger' has taught her to rely on it and she continued to. If you ever read the Osanwe-kanta (I believe it is called), a piece by Tolkien, it is about telepathy and the elves. It's a piece written in character by a scholar in Gondolin, who proposes that reason why elves lack telepathy they had in the past is, the development of language and so it fell out of use. Faervel does not have telepathic, however, it would be easy to surmise that elves would have more of a sixth sense than humans do. They are also more in tune with nature (hence being able to talk to trees). Lord Elrond has maia blood in him, Lady Galadriel probably learned a helluva a lot from Melian the Maia. Glorfindel was granted 'maiar' like powers, which will come into play later. There is a lot to unfold, but I will not give it away!

Originally I had that the elves had invented the guitar. Due to a suggestion from a review, I've changed the dialog a bit. Either way, I think that the elves would be more advanced than humans. I know that the Romans, the Greeks, and such had indoor plumbing, or at least some form of it. I'm sure Gondor would to. I think the elves would take advantage of the natural resources about them.

I think that Glorfindel and Elrond would, for the most part, not use "lord" in front of each others name, except maybe if Glorfindel was messing with Elrond. They are pretty much on equal footing, Glorfindel being a lord among a house of princes (the house of Finwë and Ingwë) and Elrond, well he is related to every 'royal' house of man and all three 'royal' houses of elves.

Faervel is not getting a 'lady' in front of her name because she is not royalty. Though the elves will sometimes 'my lady' her because it is polite, especially if she is not on a first name basis, or they do not know her name.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3 - Interactions

Disclaimer: Don't own Middle-Earth, Lord of the Rings, etc. I just my own my OC Ashlynn Flanagan/Faervel, and whatever characters I end up creating and using along the way.

My goal is create characters with lots of depth, characters you fall in love with, route for, cry for. If you get caught up in Faervel's story, then I am doing my job properly. Upon the horizon...lots of emotions on the way.

Also I have no beta, I try to re-read my writing before it goes up, but sometimes typos slip through. If you notice something wrong, let me know :) And P.S. Thanks SimplySupreme for the suggestion of the lute! I didn't think of that. I think the earliest mention of the guitar was close around 1300? But I like the idea of using a lute more than the guitar. If you see this, I already have gone back and changed it!

There's colors in these eyes

but there is darkness right in front of me

no matter how hard I try

I can never change the way it was meant to be

I can see it all in black in white

from pen to pad I'm here tonight

I wrote the words I know its right

-Black & White, Loadstar

Chapter Three – Interactions

18th July, Year 1000, Imladris

Faervel walked out of Erestor's office staring up at the darkened sky. When Glorfindel had mentioned Erestor as a hard task master and hard to please, she did not understand how bad it was. Erestor had decided the first thing that she would have to do was learn to speak, read, and write Sindarin. He then explained to her, her lessons would then begin in Sindarin and she would learn Quenya, their formal language. Quenya was important for their holidays, but it was also the language spoken in Valinor, or Aman. He had insisted once that was complete, he would then begin her education into their history, the customs of each branch of the elves, and ultimately he had decided once she was at least proficient in history, customs, Sindarin, and Quenya, that was going to learn how to read music.

It started to pour and Faervel stepped outside into the rain. Faervel remembered that elves could not get sick and they felt the cold and the heat a lot less than the other races. She figured she could test that, maybe if she did not get sick, she would feel less of a phoney elf. She closed her eyes and imagined she was in the club, despite the rain. She imagined the beat of On the Floor by Jennifer Lopez.

"Hey Ash, what you are doing?" Lucy asked her.

"I am testing a theory," Faervel said.

"Come in side, you will get sick."

"That is my theory, if I get sick, I might really be an elleth," Faervel said swaying to the music in her head.

"This is a crazy idea you have. Why do you have to test if you are an elleth? You are human like me," Lucy said.

"That's what I do not know anymore, could you just indulge me?" Faervel asked quietly. Lucy patted the drum he was holding. Faervel whirled around to see him holding the drum.

"What song, are you wanting to dance to?"

"Dance on the Floor by Jennifer Lopez," Faervel admitted.

"Ready?"

"Yeah, I am." Lucy began to drum and built up the beat slowly. He began to beat box with it. Faervel began to dance.

"Oooh, Faervel! Shake what your momma gave you!" Ava called appearing out of no where.

"If you go hard you gotta get on the floor," sang Faervel.

"If you're a party freak then step on the floor," Ava joined in. Ava stepped out into the rain and started dancing with Faervel.

"If you're an animal then tear up the floor, break a swear on the floor," they sang together. Ava's voice cracked as she struggled to carry along the tune with Faervel. Ava was no singer, while Faervel had all of her years spent with Lucy singing and the lessons her adoptive family had provided for her. Ava tried copying the moves that Faervel had tried to memorize, even though Faervel messed up a few times herself. She was more focused on singing. Faervel's voice was a mezzo-soprano, common enough among humans. Her voice was more full and rich compared to a lyric mezzo-soprano. She had good range, but her voice was comfortable hitting the notes, the higher notes being a bit of a struggle for her. Faervel continued to sing and dance around the courtyard oblivious to the gathering of elves around them, peering at them intently.

"You are no Beyonce, but girl, you got a set of lungs on you," Ava said breathlessly standing beside Faervel. Faervel stood there with face upturned towards the sky, a smile upon her lips. She took pleasure as the rain pelted her face and her body.

"I wish I could sing more like Tarja Trunen," Faervel said at last, feeling herself unwind. She still felt unsettled, her thoughts had stopped rushing a million miles an hour, but the question inside of her heart still bugged her. Faervel shoved the thought of her being an elf and not a human away from her.

"You should come in and get dry Ash," Lucy said. Faervel just nodded, water dripped into her face. Faervel wiped her face without much success of clearing it from water. She was soaked to the bone. Faervel walked back into the house to stand in front of Lucy smiling.

"You have an interesting voice," complimented an elleth as she came walked to stand next to Faervel and Lucy. Faervel gave a tight smile, confused.

"Is that...a bad thing?" The elleth shook her head, dark head bobbing.

"Your voice is very controlled, your lyrics are clear and audible. I really enjoyed the fact that you can really hold onto notes for periods of time without wavering in the pitch or tone. Your voice is rather expressive, but also it's deeper, fuller, and more intense, emotional. It is just different from most ellith We have some singers like you and some who can hit the lower notes more easily. Actually my vocal range is lower than yours. I am Cellineth," the elleth said introducing herself. Cellineth was different from the typical Imladris beauty, being blonde hair, but her eyes were brown.

"I am Faervel, but you probably have heard about me already," Faervel said.

"News travels fast in Imladris, especially about new visitors with such interesting backgrounds. I am sure Lord Glorfindel showed you around, but your friend Lucy and you are welcome to the Hall of Light anytime you would like to sing or preform music, us lower singers usually meet in the afternoon right after lunch," Cellineth.*

"Thank you, I will definitely take up your offer sometime. I am not sure about Lucy, but Lucy loves anything with music," Faervel said.

"Yes, please stop by. We love to have fresh voices and new styles to try out. I shall take my leave, but I hope to see you around soon." Cellineth said. Faervel watched Cellineth go and smiled, a sense of relief flooding her.

"Looks like you have a new friend," Lucy whispered in her ear. Faervel laughed, feeling excited, that maybe, just maybe she could find acceptance in this strange place.

"I should get dry," Faervel said.

"I would hate for you get a cold, a sick Faervel is a horrifying sight. Please meet me at my room," Lucy said. "You to Ava, go get changed."

Faervel walked away from Ava and Lucy, not glancing back, hurrying down the hall way to change into dry clothes. She drew curious glances from the elves that passed as she rushed towards her room. She locked the door behind her. She grabbed her clothes and headed to the bathroom, stripping off her clothes. She slipped into the tunic and leggings. Elrond had been kind and was providing her with an entire wardrobe. They tunics and leggings bad been the easiest to get, but Elrond had insisted on her having a few dresses for feast days. The boots had only take a couple of days.

"Modern society does not have nothing on the boots of the elves, they are so damn soft," Faervel said out loud as she slipped her feet into them. Faervel's hands itched to write a journal, she wondered if books were a hard process. Faervel missed most having an mp3 player. The mp3 player that had been in her pocket had bit the dust when she had washed up on the shore of Mithlond.

"I wonder if Lucy died, or Ava. Ava looks just a couple years older from when I last saw her. She did not really change, not like Lucy or me..." Faervel wondered thoughtfully. Faervel stared at herself in the mirror in the bathroom before grabbing a towel drying her hair by hand. Faervel had long decided that short hair was always easier to manage, quicker to dry, but there was fees to be paid in getting it cut every month. Faervel dropped the towel back onto the small table that held the basin full of clean water.

Faervel unlocked her bedroom door and headed towards Lucy's room. She came to the room outside his that was shared with three other rooms. It was simple and elegant, as did every piece the elves seemed to do. It was designed more for comfort and being designed also for humans. The rooms Faervel remembered after exploring one, was designed with the privacy of humans in mind.

The elves found no shame in their bodies, something Faervel found surprising. They were not loose with their favors and they were not ones to participate in voyeurism, at least, so she found. Faervel had lacked the words for it, but after one of the feasts where she had been served some kind of elvish alcohol, she knew what it was, but words were hard to describe. Elves showed their pleasure and displeasure readily among each other, yet at the same time it was elegant and slight of hand their displeasure. Their laughter was easy to evoke and their anger slower.

"You are lost in thought again," Lucy said softly.

"I cannot help it," Faervel said staring at her hands. She glanced up at Lucy feeling torn in a thousand ways, her violet eyes dark but shimmering with unshed tears. Every day her new life stared her in the face and she had no way to escape, no way to find relief. Faervel had a thousand questions that she was to afraid to ask. She felt lost and confused. What if she really was an elf? What if she was immortal? She would have to watch Ava and Lucy die and the world spin on as her body remained unchanged, but her heart not so. There was to much emotion in her right now, to much turmoil.

"What is wrong Ash?"

"Nothing! Everything!" Faervel sank to her knees, tears began to streak her cheek. Lucy sank to his knees and gathered her up in his arms, holding her tight. Faervel covered her mouth as she tried hard not to sob.

"Shhh...shh...tell your brother what is wrong," Lucy murmured.

"I am so confused. I feel so lost. We are in a strange world, with strange customs, and strange people. We are among elves, with not a human in site. Here I am a freak, with my different looks, wondering if I can fit in, if I need to fit, afraid to alienate people. I am troubled by the present, by the past, by the future, always wondering what is to become of me? Everything I have lived for is scattered to the wind, what about my hopes and dreams? How do we find our place here? I am hunted in my dreams, in my waking moments, crucified by my own mind. I died before coming here, you know? I know I did. There is not other explanation. All I can keep thinking about is, if somehow, I am an elf, I will watch you die. I'm wondering how you died, how Ava died, if you did die, or if this is a dream. Every waking moment is spent trying to fit in, to learn, but filled with questions yearning to be answered." Faervel made to start again, her thoughts spilling out, cycling again and again in different ways as her tears made her cheeks shimmer.

"Breathe Ash, just breathe," Lucy commanded her. Faervel took a shuddering breathe staring hopelessly at Lucy. She felt a weight in her chest, like it was tight and it needed to be released.

"How did you die Ash?" Lucy asked quietly, a disturbed look upon his face. He took to stroking her comfortingly, resting his chin on her head. Faervel clutched at his tunic, scrunching it up in her hands, her breathing ragged. She tried several times to speak but could not speak of it. Faervel focused on breathing for a bit, trying to calm her nerves, her breathing, and her tears. Faervel wiped her face with the sleeve of her tunic, finally finding a stillness inside of her after several minutes.

"It was a hit and run. I was crossing the street of an intersection, when this car came blaring down the middle and hit me. There was a cop car in pursuit, I remember going up and then I remember being on the ground all of a sudden, it just kind of blurs together, but at the same time like still shots of photographs. Going up, laying on the ground, there was blood, a voice, and dark brown eyes staring at me in concern," Faervel whispered. Lucy's face was grim.

"Do you want to hear my story?" Lucy asked, slightly changing the subject.

"I am afraid to, you should not have gone down the 5th," Faervel said blackly. Her tears had stopped and her anger had return. That was the flaw in Faervel, she hated to cry, she saw it as weakness, and she always wanted to project the utmost strength. Her tears, her sadness, except when she was first off the streets and getting clean, would turn to anger. Anger had fueled her for a long time, off and off, giving her the energy to survive, but her anger had been fading, slowly, over time.

"You are so touchy about the subject of your past. The past is behind you Ash," Lucy said, his eyes full of concern and of a strange emotion that Faervel had never seen before. It made her feel uncomfortable. Faervel glanced away unnerved by the expression.

"My past is dark, bitter, and ugly. My past is behind me, but I do not want anyone to define me about it. I do not want the elves here to see me in a terrible light because of it," Faervel admitted, her tears trying up, her eyes hardening, just like she always did. She always threw up emotional and mental barriers between what troubled her, trying to cut down the overwhelming feelings of regret, anger, and depression that shook her very being when she was alone in the dead of night.

"So that is why you are lashing out all over again," Lucy mused.

"Did you just pull some kind of psychology on me?"

"Maybe, but mostly I wanted to hear it from you. Remember Dune? 'I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to past over me and through me.' You have to face your fear."

"Hey Lucy, so tell me, did you die, or do you think you are in a coma?" Faervel said, quickly changing the subject. Lucy sighed and fixed his gaze on her, his expression stern.

"Are you going to get angry at me if I tell you?"

"I think the chances of that is highly likely!" But Faervel offered Lucy a small smile. Lucy just shook his head at her in response, his eyes going soft as he glanced away from her.

"I'll skip the details about it, since that gets you so riled up. I will tell you this, however. I was heading back home that night, I was going to check up on you. I remember hearing a gun shot and that is all I recall truthfully," Lucy said.

"Do you remember light? Or a field? Or a lady?"

"No I am sorry, I do not. You love those tunics, don't you?"

"I do, they hide the scars on my arms," Faervel admitted quietly. Faervel unconsciously rubbed her arms as she thought about the scars, from the drugs, from the cutting, from the hospital visits and suicide attempts. Despite all she been through, she considered herself normal. What child these days came from a perfect home? Every one came from some sort of messed up family, cheating wives and husbands, junkies, raving crazies, and people battling mental illness.

"You cannot keep running forever."

"I can try. Excuse me, I promised Lord Elrond to meet him for tea, it is supposed to be a private affair, so I will see you after dinner, alright?"

"Promise?"

"It is a promise." Faervel left waving at Lucy, before once again, hurrying down the hall. It took her several minutes before she arrived at Lord Elrond's study. She went to knock on the door but Elrond opened it and smiled at her.

"Come in," Elrond said. Elrond guided her over to a balcony and her her sit down at a table that had steaming hot tea already poured for her.

"Thank you," she said taking a sip.

"You like your tea plain?" Elrond asked her surprised.

"I always have, except when it is cold."

"I see, try the biscuits, they are a new from the cook," Elrond suggested pushing the plate towards her. Faervel took one out of politeness nibbling at it. Elrond's face was very gentle with her.

"I heard your lessons with Erestor is going well, other than he is displeased with your pronunciation."

"I am not sure of the wording, but elvish has some sounds that I am not used to making normally," admitted Faervel.

"Do not worry, I am not here to criticize you upon your ability to speak Elvish. I am here to actually learn more about you. I have been rather busy and have not had a chance to chat with you."

"What would you like to ask about me?" Faervel asked taking a sip of her tea.

"I heard that you are only thirty-five years old," Elrond said.

"You heard right."

"It creates an interesting dilemma for you."

"Why does it my lord?" Elrond waved his hand at that.

"Please do not call me Lord Elrond any longer. I have never stood on ceremony. To explain why, elves do not full grown till they are fifty and are considered adults when they are one hundred."*

"I think Olórin mentioned this, or someone did," Faervel muttered.

"Ah yes, and that is where it leads us into an interesting dilemma. You are young, only thirty-five. I know you are used to being an adult in your world, but here you are not. I have a proposal for you however, if you are willing to listen," Elrond said.

"I am at least willing to listen, but I cannot guarantee if I will agree."

"It is fine. My proposal is that Erestor and his wife Saelithil would be like a foster parents for you, this would mean you live with them. I know that you come from a very different world from here and we are strange to you. Other children have had the benefit of growing up in society and you have not. I would ask that you would hold off towards marriage, at least until you are fifty. If you want to marry after then, it would be subject to the approval of Erestor and Saelithil. Does that sound fair?"*

"I guess that does. I understand, but am I allowed to object to what I am told to do?"

"I have already talked to Erestor and he understands from his interactions with you, you are no child. A human child of fourteen is comparable to an elven child of thirty-five."

"Oh," was all Faervel could managed to grasp. Elrond's eyes were kind and gentle.

"Now you see why this is a strange dilemma. We wish to treat you like an adult, but we have many cultural differences. I hope you are willing to forgive us if we make mistakes," Elrond said.

"Do you have anymore questions for me?"

"Yes I do and please do not angry, I have seen how you get angry around Ava. What is it about your past that you fear so much?"

"Lucy and you must be reading each others mind or something, cause he pulled that one on me. Can I not answer?"

"You do not have to answer, but I can see how it pains you so. Your soul is weary from it," Elrond said studying her carefully. Faervel chewed her lip, glancing outside at the rain cascading the valley.

"Can I have more time on that? My biggest fear is being judge for what happened, it is why I am not ready to speak of it. I want people to judge me for who I am now, for my actions now, not for the mistakes I made."

"If you are every willing to talk about, my door is always open," Elrond told her softly. Faervel nodded at this and finished her tea.

"Let me show you where Erestor and Saelithil live, you can move in tonight or tomorrow if you want," Elrond explained as he got up. Faervel followed Elrond quietly following him.

"I can move in tonight if that is okay?" Elrond just smiled and nodded. Faervel noted the different hallways they took until they arrived at a door that was left open. They entered into a small room, a sitting room, Faervel supposed. There a beautiful lady sat with a harp in front of her. The lady had long dark brown hair and skin as pale as the moon. Her lips were full, her eyes a dark brown and gentle.

"Oh hello, you must be Faervel I have heard so much about," she said gently.

"Ah Saelithil, I hope to hear the pleasure of your harp this evening."

"Of course I would love to play for you Elrond," Saelithil said with a smile. Saelithil's voice was soft, but lyrical. She turned her gaze onto Faervel and smiled at her.

"Come here, let me see you up close." Faervel moved to stand close to Saelithil and was pulled into a hug. Faervel felt surrounded by a comforting warmth. Elrond discreetly left them.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Faervel. Erestor told me you loved music. He said you were a musician as well as a singer?"

"Ah yes, but you do not have the guitar or the piano, so I feel at a lost. An ellon mentioned a six-string instrument called a lute, but I do not know how similar it is," Faervel admitted.

"I shall have to show my collection of instruments, the harp is my favorite however," Saelithil said.

"I do not know how to play the harp."

"Then I shall teach you, if you want, when my husband is not terrorizing you with elvish lessons." Saelithil laughed at that and Faervel gave a small laugh smiling.

"Is our place hard to find?" Saelithil asked Faervel.

"No it is not, I recognize a lot of the areas. Imladris is a big place. The hardest place to get to is Glorfindel's study. I am a little unsure if I could my way to there." Saelithil laughed at that while guiding Faervel into a room that seemed a cross between a miniature library and a storage room for musical instruments. It was a cozy room, with a fireplace, a beautiful bay window, with pillows and what looked to be a comfy couch.

"That is true enough. Glorfindel hates being interrupted while he is doing his work, the messengers that Elrond uses are scared of him. They play a little game of who picks the shortest stick to see who gets to bother him whenever Elrond sends them."

"But...why? Glorfindel is not scary, sure he does get this sour look on his face at times and views every new person with suspicion, but he is nice enough despite his thorns. I know this because he spends half his time glaring at me and the other half apologizing and being nice. Aerdir seems okay with him, except when we got back to Imladris," Faervel said.

"Ah Aerdir, that young ellon. Is he your friend?" Faervel completely missed the strange glint in Saelithil's eye.

"I would like to call him a friend, but we only knew each other for sixteen days. I am not sure if I would really even call that a friendship at this point. He was here for a couple of days and left again with the party from Mithlond."

"He will be back come autumn. There is the Harvest Festival," Saelithil said.

"When is that?"

"Oh, well here is a lesson for you, in elvish customs. We count out years by yén, which is not a problem until of course we met mortal men. So we have the loa which is 365 days," Saelithil explained sitting down on the couch. She patted the couch for Faervel to sit down.

"I will explain it in Sindarin, you can learn the Quenya names from my husband later. Our first day of the loa is Minien. It does not belong to any month, we count that from the spring equinox, thus the first month for us is Ethuil," Saelithil continued. Faervel nodded her head in understanding. "Then we have Laer, which is summer, Iavas, which is autumn. Then we have Endien, our middle days between Iavas and Firith. Firith is the season between autumn and winter. Winter is Rhîw, then the Stirring is called Echuir. Our last day of the year is called Penninor."

"So let me get this straight Minien, Endien, and Penninor, do not belong to any of the months?"

"Yes, this year Endien falls on October 26th to the 29th. It is three days long, but every twelve years it is six days long," Saelithil smiled.

"This makes me feel silly and childish."

"Do not feel silly, the most stupid question is the one never asked. Now come let me show you the lute," Saelithil got up and took the lute from it's stand presenting it to Faervel. Faervel stared at it noticing how it was different in shape, at least it had frets. Faervel tested it out and winced as she tried to play a bit.

"I think I am going to have throw out what I know. Would you teach me, please?"

Saelithil smiled at her, "Of course I shall! I would be delighted to!"

They spent the rainy afternoon together, Saelithil showing Faervel how to care for the lute and how to play it. Saelithil at times would break into playing a small song for her, though she never sang. Saelithil took a break and showed her how to play the harp for a bit. It was right after that that Erestor returned home.

"Hello Saelithil and Faervel," Erestor greeted walking into the room they were sitting it, interrupting Saelithil's explanation about the Dulcimer, a small instrument played by striking the strings with small hammers.

"Hello, my love," Saelithil greeted her husband with a quick chaste kiss. She smiled at him, her face shining with her love for Erestor. Faervel watched fascinated as Erestor's usually stern face seemed to become gentle and more kin.

"How was tea with Elrond, Faervel," Erestor asked.

"Uneventful, which is good right?"

"Did he talk to you about your studies?"

"No, not really," Faervel answered. Erestor sat down across from them and began to tell Faervel about what her studies would be while she was being fostered. Erestor would help her in the morning with learning to speak, read, and write in Sindarin and later in Quenya. These lessons would eventually turn into history lessons, until all the material would be covered, then those lessons would end. Of course if Faervel wanted to become a scribe, they could continue on. Saelithil would give her lessons in the afternoon with music, but also cultural lessons. Erestor urged Faervel that if she had any questions go to Saelithil. The dinner bell was rung and the trio left to go eat dinner.

"Do I have to sit with you two?"

"No you do not have to, but I would love it if you did. I would like to get to know my foster daughter more," Saelithil said. They entered the Meal Hall and Faervel went along with Erestor and Saelithil who sat at the table with Elrond and other members of his staff. This time instead of being in-between Erestor and Glorfindel, she sat between Erestor and Saelithil, with Glorfindel on the other side of Erestor. Faervel sat in front of Elrond's children. Now that Olórin and the party from Mithlond was not visiting, the table was no longer on the dais, raised above the others. That itself was a comfort for Faervel, but after two weeks of being in Imladris, she was no longer the concern of constant stares. Her actions like her singing and dancing earlier made her visited by the gaze of the elves.

"Faervel so how do you like Imladris so far?" One of the twins asked her. Faervel had yet to figure out a way to tell the two identical twins apart, so the few times she ran into them, she avoided using their names all together.

"I like it just fine. It is very calming and a different pace from my former home," Faervel conceded. One of the twin's grinned at her.

"That is because Lord Erestor here has you locked up in lessons. You should come hang with us," the other said. Faervel listened closely hearing a difference in their tone now that the two was speaking together. She just needed them to talk to her more and she could figure out. Faervel had a good memory for sounds, within the first ten seconds of a song, she would know what it was. Lucy had called her his personal Shazam app.

"I am sure you would like to meet more ellyn and ellith your age," said the other.

"Elladan, I do not need you corrupting my pupil with your ways," Erestor snapped. Faervel noticed the fondness in his voice as it was not as stern as it could be. Faervel had heard that voice when a messenger had interrupted their lessons one morning, but it rarely made it's appearance. Faervel snorted at this suggestion that the twins would corrupt her.

"Corrupt me into what?"

"They will corrupt you from a pupil into playing pranks on the residents of Imladris," Glorfindel answered for her.

"Then there is no fear of that, I have never liked to play pranks," Faervel answered truthfully.

"Then you are disappointing us! However if you shall endeavor to emerge from dusty books and scrolls and small letters, we shell endeavor to show you a good time around Imladris," the other twin, Elrohir answered.

'That's it! Elrohir's voice is more smooth and Elladan's voice is deeper. I have it now, or so I hope,' Faervel thought.

"I shall keep that in mind," Faervel said dryly.

"That might not be such a bad idea, Elladan and Elrohir. However, not all Eldar speak the common tongue. Faervel is still learning Sindarin, give her some time," Saelithil promised.

"Saelithil!" Erestor let out a strangled and in Faervel's opinion, non-elven like noise.

"Shush you, Faervel needs to make friends here," Saelithil censured her husband. Erestor sighed in defeat.

"That is right Lord Erestor, she cannot be friends with stuffy lords like you," teased Elrond. Faervel giggled quietly at this, covering her mouth.

"I am defeated by my very friends! What friends you all are!"

"It is okay Erestor, I still promise to show up for lessons promptly every day," Faervel promised.

"I am doubting that where Elladan and Elrohir is concerned," Erestor muttered.

"If you are doubtful you should ask for Lucy to vouch for my behavior. When I was en-rolled in night school to get my G.E.D. I showed up half an hour early every day. I did the same when I was taking my S.A.T. Prep class. I was in competition with Lucy about getting a perfect score on the S.A.T. Mrs. Smith said that if we got a perfect score she would let us go backpacking through Europe and pay for all our expanses," Faervel said cheerfully. Faervel was then bombard with questions from the elves around her, about what was the S.A.T., about backpacking, and where was Europe and what was it like.

'Me and my big mouth,' Faervel thought. Faervel quickly explained it all and while she was explaining dinner was brought out.

"Have you thought about an occupation you would like to do here?" Saelithil asked Faervel.

"I have not thought that far, truthfully. I can bake, but I cannot cook meals and definitely not for all the people in Imladris. I am a musician, but none of the musical instruments here are very familiar. The lute may be the closest, but with all the strings and such, I fear it will take me time before I can do much," Faervel said, eyes on her plate.

"Maybe she would like to be a guard," suggested Elrohir.

"Or she could be a healer," said Elladan.

"Or how about she chooses for herself what she wants to do with her life?" Erestor said stopping all the suggestions before it got out of hand. Saelithil patted Faervel's shoulder comfortingly, thought truthfully Faervel did not need it.

"I heard you are fostering young Faervel," an ellon that Faervel had yet to converse with or know his name. Faervel had noticed the dark looks he had given her each time that had briefly been near each other. Erestor stiffened only slightly and turned his head to the ellon.

"Yes I am Lord Torthon," Erestor answered.

"We are to help this young elleth assimilate among her kind again, she has been lost among the humans," Saelithil said staring back at Torthon with hard eyes.

"Ah yes and do we know of this one parents if she is worthy of such a prestigious fostering?" Faervel stood up suddenly, all eyes turned to her.

"Dear Lord Torthon, let me inform you that who your parents are, is of no consequence. Your parents do not dictate who you are, who you unfold as. They have made you, but it is your choices that dictate to your life. Your parents will never have anything to do with how worthy you are for a title, for a gift, for well anything! Your own personal actions is what is required. Am I worthy of being fostered? I am, in such that I have much to learn. I may be new here but your bigoted old-fashioned ways are nothing to new me. I have seen the way you have looked at me darkly, but I say this, you do not know me! People who judge others for their past, who their parents are, without getting to know someone is utter filth!" Faervel stormed out of the meal hall, leaving her dinner untouched. The ellyn and ellith around her looked completely startled.

"That was interesting..." Elrond muttered, watching the expressions of the members of his table. If only he had known what was to come, the dramas to be played out.

*Notes:

The Hall of Light is not a real place in Imladris. I wanted a name for a place of here music is done. While mezzo-sopranos are the most common female singers apparently, I put forth that most ellith are sopranos, their voices are also light and airy :P I just didn't want to give her the 'oh my god your voice is so amazing' and more like 'hey you do sing pretty well' type deal.

Also, hate me if you want, but I have a lot of 'feels' about how elven culture. I am certainly trying to use a reference with Tolkien, but he did not write everything down. This could be my pure wishing, but I am certain that elves would show a lot of respect towards the Elders, but there is a difference between respect and constantly using titles. I also think that Elrond would probably run his realm different from others. So I am just rolling with it :)

I wanted Faervel to be an 'adult' but also to try to compensate for the different cultures and how they would view Ash/Faervel. I figured a 'fostering' would be a good idea. I did not want to do it with Glorfindel for various reasons, Lord Elrond was a popular choice (but most people seem to choose Elrond and I figured Elrond would have other things to do, but he has a part to play later), followed by Lady Galadriel, but I decided to go for a different route. You'll get to see Erestor and different sides of him. They all have a part to play!

So the unique characters so far are:

Ashlynn/Faervel, the main character.
Aerdir, a young ellon of 70 years.
Lucy, human and adoptive brother.

Ava, a human from Ash's past.

Cellineth, a Contralto singer.

Saelithil, Erestor's wife.

Torthon, one of Elrond's councilors.