Author's Note: Yes, this is a new story. For those who follow me or my story The Child Bride, please do not despair. I am cooking up a new chapter as we speak (or read). I will try to update that story as soon as possible. I still love Nuada, no doubt, I just suddenly fell for another elf prince...Elves are just soooooooo attractive...I am intrigued and enchanted by them...So here's one more LegolasxOC with smutty bits in the near future for Fanfiction realm.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of The Rings. I own nothing except a few of my OCs. I do not own Warhammer 40K nor do I own Berserk.

Inspirations I drew on:-

Warhammer 40k: Yes, the dark eldars are inspired by the ones in Warhammer 40K. I am also very interested in their culture and way of life. The character designs are also very alluring. However, they are probably the only creatures I will be borrowing from Warhammer. Also, I do not play the game and my knowledge of dark eldars is not extensive in the least. I can say that my dark eldars are heavily inspired by the ones in Warhammer, however, I will take liberties and do with them what I will. For instance, the dark eldars in my fic do not serve or worship Slaanesh, their daemonic god in the Warhammer universe. Instead they serve the God Hand, Slan, who is a real character found in the manga, Berserk, which leads me to my next inspiration and plot bunny fuel.

Berserk: This manga and anime is very violent and gory. It is also one of the most devastating manga and anime I have ever read or seen. The story and characters are very well developed (if you don't know it please go read it now!). I will draw Ithilwen's world heavily from the Berserk universe. Berserk has demonic gods who refer to themselves as God Hands and there are about five of those. One of them is Slan, a female God Hand who appears to be a succubus looking demon. I am still wondering if I should use the other God Hands as well or perhaps change some of their names or maybe draw some from the gods of Chaos from Warhammer and interchange them...Hmmm, don't know yet. Haven't decided. In any case, once again Berserk is just a heavy influence but it is not a crossover.

My OC: Ithilwen is a female elf but since her world uses the term 'eldar' ( I am aware there are eldars also in the Tolkien lore but I'm completely ignoring that bit) instead please don't be confused. She looks just like all elves; beautiful and fair. She is very young though by elvish standards. She's only around seventy in this chapter and in a flashback scene she was sixty. I read that Tolkien's elves would come of age at fifty and they were considered fully grown and of marriageable age at a hundred years of age. Ithilwen is an elvish name that means Moon which I got from a site but it isn't very accurate in terms of translation and meaning... I like the fact that where she comes from the sun's rays does not reach the Earth and her world is therefore constantly shrouded in darkness (night time all the time), hence, the Moon. Since she's beautiful and an elf, I suppose to some extent she is a Mary Sue. I have also got some plans for her in the future so she may grow into more of a Mary Sue then. You have been warned.

Warnings: OC, smut, gore, sexual harassment, possible rape scenes, torture, slight Mary Sue, elf OC, Legomance, LegolasxOC, language, slight AU.

Chapter I: A World without Light

Gasping for breath, the eldar maiden ran and ran, moving her weak legs as quickly as she could, trying her very best not to stumble forward given her awkward strides. Her long torn gown made it slightly easier for her legs to move than if they were still intact, however, the cuts on her thighs and calves were stricken with more pain as the cloth flapped against the fresh wounds. The eerily spiked collar she had around her neck glistened as she passed each window where the moonlight shone through. It was attached to a metal chain that had broken when she managed to make her escape. The metal chain that was still attached to the collar made soft clinking sounds as she struggled to keep her eyes open and her legs moving.

'I must get out!' she thought frantically, 'I must leave this horrid place! Ai, blessed Father, please protect me for I do not want to perish here!'

The soft clinking sounds of her chain made her stomach squirm with the memory of her recent encounter with the evil that lay in these halls. Oh, how he had tortured her in his bedchamber! She shook her head deftly to try and rid the images from her mind as she ran toward a familiar looking doorway.

'Praise our Holy Father, The Great White Eldar whom has watched over us!' she thanked gratefully as she reached the door that would lead to an exit from this disheartening place, 'I will be saved yet! Ai, father, please wait for your daughter to return for I surely will come back to you! After all these years, I will return to you!'

Just as she hurriedly thrust the key into the keyhole, her keen eldar ears heard the harsh cry of outrage that rang from a hall far away from the North wing tower from whence she had come. Her heart started to beat even harder as the fear gripped her whole figure with an astounding harshness she had only briefly experienced. Cold sweat broke out at her forehead and her fingers felt cold and clammy as if her hands had been griped with frost bite. She could hardly believe it was she who turned the key and opened the door to a deserted broom closet where a little barred window would be her means of escape for she almost felt as if she were someone else. She had made it; she was very near to reaching her freedom.

Ithilwen swung her head around for only a few seconds so that she could determine if her pursuer was close on her heels or otherwise. Her pointed ears twitched ever so slightly as she strained to hear more of what was happening behind the closed door of the broom closet. Footsteps rushing forward in what she could assume to be only a mad pursuit for her capture and more cries of outrage made Ithilwen's fear double. Hurrying toward the window, she quickly twisted and turned the metal bars with her trembling hands. These bars were only there for show as Ithilwen and her friends, the lady dwarf Haia and the human woman Angharad, had been hard at work over the course of a decade in removing the metal bars for their long awaited escape.

'An escape that never happened…'

A brief wave of sadness came over her as her mind thought of her friends who were long gone now. Well, they would have wanted for her to be free now that they were no longer living in this wretched Earth.

A bar came lose and soon another followed its predecessor. Ithilwen's heart leaped as she excitedly stuck her arms and head out of the window. If she could just hoist herself through it without being caught then by The Great White Eldar, she would be free as any other living light eldar.

The stale smoky air washed over her face as she pushed her body out of the window, gasping and grunting softly as she tried to manoeuvre her injured legs so that one of her knees could get on the ledge and push her body out. A little bit more, just a small push and she would be released from this reprehensible castle of torture and enslavement.

"Ai!" she cried out when a vice like grip captured her ankle and pulled her backwards.

"Think you can escape me, my little light eldar?" a menacing voice sneered at her from behind and Ithilwen felt tears glisten her eyes as the fear in her stomach encompassed her whole being. "You will never escape my house for as long as I draw breath, slut! You are mine and I will teach you what it means to be mine!"

"Nay!" she cried out, tears streaming down her face as her hands and arms pulled and pushed at the ledge of the window so that she may struggle free of her tormentor's grasp. It was him, the Dark Eldar Prince of Löchlaemoened, Prince Àinfean, who had imprisoned her within these walls for over ten years. He was her tormentor, master and also her dreaded betrothed. "Nay, nay! You will not capture me this time! I will end my own life rather than be your bride - your slave for there is nothing more contemptible than such a fate!"

A dark laugh escaped the lips of the dark eldar who had her ankle in his hand.

"You flatter me, my little whore!" he chuckled slyly, "I will rip your very soul apart, inch by inch and do the same with that lovely skin of yours before I am through with you! You're very body will be cut, sliced, whipped and ravished until nothing is left but a pile of meat and bones. I will crush you, I will slash your beautiful back with my spiked whips, I will hang you by your arms and hair and rape your body until you will beg me for the mercy of death…And nothing will make me relish such an eager plea than to keep denying that which you want the most!"

"Nay!" Ithilwen screamed in anguish as she continued with her struggle. Her weak legs suddenly seemed to have found a new strength from all her fear fueled adrenaline and it began kicking with a might and power that she had never known she possessed. Her foot connected with Àinfean's chest and it was a strong enough kick to send him stumbling backwards, releasing his grip on her ankle.

Ithilwen didn't waste any time to push and heave herself out of the window and despite her aching limbs and laboured breaths; she managed to get her whole body out of the castle in one piece. Her joy of being free did not last very long for now that Àinfean was so close to her, she knew she needed to continue running until she was completely safe from him. Picking herself up from the ground she wasted no time but to half run and half limp her way into the Forbidden Woods that surrounded the castle. Dark eldars loved living in places as dark and vicious as their own cruel nature and Ithilwen dreaded what lay ahead in those foreboding woods but she would rather face fearsome monsters and beasts and be rewarded a quick death than suffer at the hands of her beastly betrothed.

As she ran, her keen eldar ears picked up the sound of his footsteps following close behind her.

"I will rip your flesh out with my bare teeth, Ithilwen!" he yelled savagely at her, gaining on her speed as he did so, "I will slice your skin and flay you until you scream for mercy! You little whore! I will fuck you long and hard until your mind is robbed of sanity and then I will toss you to my underlings and let them fuck you as well! Before this night is through, you will be nothing but a piece of meat, an object of pleasure! To be used as I see fit! Mark my words, you filthy little bitch!"

She ignored his hateful monologue, her mind focused in trying to escape. Ithilwen steadily made her way into the forest and tried to hide herself from his sharp eyes. She was a light eldar and even though dark eldars were known to have sharper eyes – eyes that could see a thousand times better in the dark - she knew that from growing up in a world filled with darkness, that her eyes too could see very well in the dark and perhaps, just maybe, she could fool Àinfean and still gain her freedom.

Silent as a mouse, she crept behind a tree and swiftly, quietly, she held her breath and bid her time.

Àinfean stopped abruptly when he realised she was no longer within his range of vision. His irritation at her grew tenfold and he screamed in fury at her, his sharp black eyes quickly scanning his surroundings, searching for the slightest clue that could lead him to her. As a dark eldar, his slanting sharp black eyes gave him the perfect vision in darker conditions and where there was little light, the better his eyesight became. Àinfean was also a renowned warrior whose skills and senses were even more heightened and refined from normal dark eldars and light eldars alike. His ears strained and twitched in anticipation for the slightest sounds. Unlike the majority of the eldar race, Àinfean's ears weren't leaf shaped but they were still pointy and instead of the ordinary leaf shape, his ears were sharper and longer and they jutted out from his hair so starkly that most people knew it was probably a result of genetic mutation or genetic engineering. Genetic mutation was growing more and more common these days than most of the Earth's inhabitants would like but they grudgingly saw the necessities that these mutations could offer. In Àinfean's case, he had better hearing than twenty dark eldars combined. People were turning into mutants because they were evolving into a species or race that could adapt to the harsh world they lived in.

It took him less than a minute to pinpoint her exact location but Àinfean decided to play with his little toy first before actually capturing her for there was nothing more pleasurable than toying and playing with your prey first before taking hold of it. Dark eldars took great pleasure in torturing their prey regardless of their race, be it dwarf, Man or other eldars. What mattered most was the subjugating of the soul of their prey in which they fed upon and sacrificed the pain and total submission to their hedonistic goddess, Slan, whom they committed many horrendous deeds for. It was simply in their nature to indulge in everything pleasurable and to abandon all moral codes.

"I will find you yet, my Ithilwen," he cooed in glee as he pretended to search for her still, "And when I do, I think the first to do is to tear that lovely dress of yours off that body and rape you until you faint from exhaustion."

He walked around, running his hands through several of the undergrowth that grew in the forest as if he was looking for something. Àinfean made sure to carefully avoid going too near Ithilwen but he lingered nearby, close enough to be sure that she heard his every word. Let the frightened little rabbit become even more afraid of him. Fear will be fed into her very bones and heart and her mind would go mad from it all.

"You can be sure that it won't only be me tearing into that soft virginal body of yours…," he elaborated, sighing as if he could not wait to get his hands on her, "I will make my knives taste you as well and my metal claws, the hammer and the whip. First, I'll stroke you gently and then I'll stab my knives into that virginal cunt and watch you bleed before my very eyes…It will be so…glorious…!"

Ithilwen trembled as she told herself to remain calm and not to react to his evil taunts. She knew he was playing with her. Gone were the enraged cries when she had evaded him and now in its place was a voice that was rich and dark like molten velvet. She knew the lower his voice was the more excited he was at the prospect of pleasure that soon awaited him. He had most likely found where she was hiding but some small desperate hope had flared out from her heart that perhaps, against all odds, she might still make through this evening alive.

"I will sacrifice you in the name of our beloved God Hand, Slan, the goddess of all that is chaotic and pleasurable. You will meet her yourself when your soul is consumed by her and trust me there is no greater pain and humiliation than to find yourself ripped to shreds as she eats you!" Àinfean said happily, clapping his hands together as a child would before his favourite toy.

"You can finally meet your pathetic friends again, that freakish dwarf creature and that distorted human female in Slan's stomach where your souls will forever be in pain and subjected to enslavement," he went on ranting, "Once a slave, always a slave! You think to escape me? The Dark Prince of the mighty Dark Eldars? You filthy bitch! I will show you what happens to stupid little light eldars who refuse to see where they fit in this world – beneath me! In every possible way!"

Ithilwen shut her eyes tightly as his words sank into her. Was she to never escape such terror? How was it possible to have such a cruel and deadly fate? What kind of world was she living in when every day good people of all races were enslaved, tortured and killed by dark eldars who deemed everyone inferior to them?

A small tiny whimper escaped her lips and she nearly fainted from the fear of letting out such a small sound. To others it would not even be heard but to a dark eldar's heightened sense of hearing, it was more than enough.

"There you are, my little harlot," Àinfean whispered sweetly into her ear. He had appeared beside her in less than a second, his lean athletic body made him move faster than even the wildest of animals. He was superior to her in terms of strength, speed and senses, she would not win in a physical fight against him that much was clear.

Ithilwen screamed in terror as she scrambled backwards. The fear he had inspired in her from all his talk had resulted in leaving her gasping and panting in complete fright, choking on her own breaths. Trepidation and cowardice consumed her and before she knew it, Ithilwen was crying loudly like a scared little child. She sobbed and wailed as her loathsome betrothed bent down to capture her lips with his. It would have been wonderful if she had found her strength and fought against him but after years of living in such fear, it was difficult to even consider fighting her abhorred master.

Ithilwen's mind reeled as Àinfean crushed her to him. This was their first kiss and it was also Ithilwen's very first kiss in her entire life for even though Àinfean desired her enough to pledge his troth to her, he had never kissed her in any way before this night. Once, he told her to come to his throne room where he had several of his loyal subjects waiting. He wanted to introduce her, he said sweetly and Ithilwen instantly felt a cold shiver as she eyed the rest of the people that occupied the room. They all had the characteristic obsidian sharp slanting eyes, straight aristocratic nose and thin cruel lips that curled in a cruel smirk as they leered at her openly. Àinfean had done horrible things to her on that day. He had torn her gown and exposed her bare body to his subjects while they laughed and insulted her, calling her names and telling her that her mother was a slut just as she was. They left her broken and crying on the floor after all of them had urinated on her, all the while laughing and jeering at her. Ithilwen remembered how afraid she was at that time because she naturally assumed he would rape her when he had had her gown torn that horrid day. He had not even kissed her and even though the whole experience had traumatised her, Ithilwen was thankful that he had not even touch her in any way sexual.

Now he was actually kissing her and the experience shocked her into a moment of immobility. It was nothing like what she had imagined her first kiss would be like. Cruel and hard like the rest of him was his kiss; Àinfean clutched her hair roughly and pulled and tugged at her mouth with his lips, tongue and teeth. He bit her lips harshly until he tasted her sweet blood and thrust his tongue into her mouth in the most dominant manner, cruelly reminding her of their differences in strength and that he was her master and she a mere object of his possession.

"You taste so sweet, my dear," he whispered savagely in her ear, biting the tip of her ear hard until she bled there too, "That sweetness will be mine and I cannot tell you enough how much delight it will be to take away that innocence and leave you as nothing more than a cold and empty vessel."

"Nay!" she cried out, trying to push herself away from him, her mind reeled at what he was about to unleash on her, "Release me! Release me, Àinfean!"

"Be quiet, whore," he replied calmly before his mouth descended on hers once again, his tall frame bending down to her shorter stature, his hips thrusting against hers in a crude and vulgar way, clearly letting her feel his maddening desire to ravish her. Ithilwen struggled in his strong hold and she struck against his chest several times but her fear combined with her drained energy made absolutely no damage to the strong warrior before her. Àinfean drew back abruptly and slapped her hard across the face to stop her heedless struggling and continued with his torture on her. The slap caused Ithilwen's head to snap back and her eyes clouded with flashes of bright light from the sting of the slap. It completely disoriented her and before she knew it, he had pushed her body on the ground and his strong knee was in between her legs pushing at the apex of her thighs relentlessly.

He proceeded to tear more of her gown, ripping the skirts and the bodice so that her breasts were nearly laid bare before his lustful eyes. He leered at her and smirked in satisfaction when she began weeping anew. His little light eldar had always been a frightened little rabbit. She was a coward and a weakling. He had ruled over her and fed so much fear into her blood over the twenty seven years of her captive that he knew she was one who was meant to be under his thumb for the rest of her miserable life. The only thing that had driven her to defy him tonight was the fact that he was going to make her his bride this very night and she was too afraid of what he had planned for her. Àinfean had placed a collar on her and chained her to his bedside mere hours ago. Àinfean had ripped the skirt of her gown in several different places so he use his needle tipped blade to slice the skin on her calves and thighs. He was planning to humiliate and hurt her a little before he claimed her as his own and raped her virgin flesh. He wanted her first time to be as debasing and humiliating so that he reduced her to a most horrible state, destroying not only her purity but also her mind. But the little wench had escaped before he did any real damage and now that he had managed to catch her again his wild desires for her threatened to spill forth in a violent burst of raw, perverted sexual passion.

Àinfean's hands were everywhere on her body, roughly caressing, squeezing and groping. He cupped her pert high breasts in his calloused hands and squeezed her hard, making her cry out at the pain. Grinning at her reaction, Àinfean tore the rest of her gown that covered her chest and her full bosom spilled out like generous gifts for his eyes and hands. His mind crowed at the triumph he felt as he stared at her, drinking in her beauty, for she was indeed beautiful and pure, and the corruption of anything good and untainted was definitely a worthy sacrifice for his esteemed God Hand.

'What a prize I managed to capture!' he thought sadistically, 'I knew she was a beauty but never had I suspected she would grow into this lovely tempting little morsel.'

"Cease! Stop this wickedness!" she wailed loudly, tears streaming her face as she tried to once again push him away from her body, "No more! Just kill me and be done with it. I cannot bear the thought of you defiling me!"

Àinfean laughed evilly at her pleas of mercy for dark eldars loved nothing more than to hear their prey beg for mercy. They took pleasure in belittling their prey and breaking the minds of someone who had defied them earlier. The God Hand, Slan revelled in her minions who worshipped her and fuelled her with the never-ending lust and hedonistic pursuits.

Ithilwen tried to ignore the shame and disgust she felt as he tried to rape her. He had frequently tortured, berated, humiliated, beat and insult her since the time he had abducted her and forced her to become his betrothed. Àinfean had never once shown her kindness and in her early days of knowing him she had foolishly believed that her pleas for mercy would be heard but it had always fell on deaf ears. He would not stop, he never will. Every time he reminded her of that she felt a piece of her hope whither away. All the hope she had at escaping him tonight was also slowly draining away as her eyes looked up into the pitch black sky.

Vanmoriel wept and searched the dark sky for a lone star. Perhaps if she could catch a glimpse of one star then she may just have her prayers heard by The Great Father, Revered White Eldar God who was a true god and not like those demonic entities known as the God Hands. The sight of a star, even if her prayers would not be heard, would give her great comfort before her untimely demise.

Hope wavered in her breast as she felt him roughly part her legs and tore her undergarments. The skies in these despicable lands were constantly dark and cloudy. Coupled with frequent storms, the entire Earth was slowly turning into a dark cess pool made for evil beings like the dark eldars, orcs and other demonic entities to thrive upon. No other race would be able to survive it. People were dying trying to wage war upon these ungodly creatures who deemed they were the superior race.

She stared blankly up into the skies and suddenly thought of her friends who had died several years ago causing her to despair. Haia and Angharad who were both slaves here in Àinfean's castle were the closest people she knew now ever since she had been abducted by Àinfean's men. Haia with her dark beard and strong character and Angharad who was a beacon of hope, constantly telling Ithilwen to never give up, seemed like distant yet endearing memories.

"Do you know that it has only been a recent development, the name 'eldar'?" Angharad had asked her one day when she escaped her superiors. Angharad was a tall thin woman with a simple beauty but what made her even more attractive was not feminine grace nor a flirtatious nature but it was her quiet confidence that seemed to encompass her whole being and radiated around her. It was as if when she walked into a room, one would immediately feel the aura she exuded, inspiring anyone to stand up and become inspired if before they were dejected and despairing of hope. Her very movements commanded that a quiet strength to grow within all who met her. Ithilwen thought her to be a lovely woman and the best of friends.

"Nay, I did not know this for as long as I remember we have always been called 'eldars'", Ithilwen replied.

"Well, my brother told me all you eldars were known as 'elves' once!" Angharad cried excitedly.

Ithilwen looked at Haia questionably, wondering if any of this was true.

Haia was a dwarvish woman who looked more like a male than any female Ithilwen knew but then most dwarf females shared that same trait. She was stout and short as most dwarves were but Haia had a great beard that was connected to her side burns which was long and bushy. Ithilwen would think it was a hideous thing indeed for any female to be born with a beard and side burns until she realised Haia was very proud of her beard, frequently styling it with several braids and ornaments. This was of course a negative impression she used to think of when she hardly knew Haia very well and she was naught but a little over her age of adolescence. Ithilwen was very young by eldar standards since eldars were immortal beings and could live for eternity if they were not slain in battle. She had only seen her sixtieth year at that time and even though this was considered quite old for humans, Ithilwen herself was still very innocent and naïve about the outside world since she had been kidnapped at a very early age.

There were some memories of her birth father, her Aiyah, she had called him but no memories of a mother. Perhaps she never had a mother to begin with. It was not uncommon for women to be killed in these dark times. Ithilwen had vowed that one day she would try to return to her birth father.

"Oh, aye, 'tis true," Haia said gruffly in a nonchalant way, "Eldars were 'elves' until they decided they were the best species in the entire universe and broke into two great warring factions. Bluidy tyrants are elves, no doubt about it. The very name 'eldar' was decided upon because they believed they were older, wiser and thus far better than any race on Earth. And that's another fact, lassy! The name Earth…'Twas once called Middle Earth."

It was known that even though dark eldars were purely evil creatures, light eldars were only better by a small margin. For light eldars may not relish in acts of murder, torture or piracy but they did possess a most stark superiority complex and deemed themselves the very highest of beings, often looking down upon those belonging to different races.

"Nay, that can't be true!" Ithilwen gasped in excitement, her light violet eyes shining suddenly, "You mean to tell me that those tales you told me, the one about The Fellowship of The Rings and Gandalf and the hobbits and such…They are true?"

"Yes, well, true to an extent, I'll wager," Haia muttered gruffly, "'Tis nothing more than a myth."

"Aye, but there's usually always some truth behind myths and legends," Angharad said, as she had witnessed the look of disappointment that came across Ithilwen's face at Haia's offhand remark.

"But the parts that remain true are probably few and far in between," Haia snorted, "Such as that bluidy elf fellow, Legolas! Who's ever heard of a bluidy eldar who could go on walking for days on end without sleep nor rest, if it is true that elves are truly eldars? Even eldars need to sleep and rest! And then when he does sleep he does so with his eyes wide open! Now tell me what eldar could do a feat such as that, eh? I'll wager not even our abhorrent master who is undoubtedly a great warrior dark eldar can sleep with his eyes open. By the Gods, I would love to see him perish though for he is terrible indeed!"

"Mm," Angharad agreed silently, "Perhaps 'tis true. Tales of adventure and myths of heroes battling evil for the greater good are often exaggerated but it cannot be denied that all eldars were once known as elves. This was a time before time was created, before the Earth came into existence and was called Middle Earth, before dark eldars ran rampant with their heinous crusade in the name of their demonic God Hands, before light eldars grew pompous and vain…A time when good won against the tyranny of evil."

'Ai, if only I could visit such a wondrous era...Where there is hope yet for us, my dear friends…' Ithilwen thought desperately as her eyes searched and searched the sky.

'I will die now and I will see you again, my friends. Father, know that I tried to return to you…!' her thoughts echoed when suddenly her sharp vision caught a glimpse of a small dotted light in the dark cloudy sky.

'A lone star!' her inner voice cried in disbelief.

The star glowed as if in answer and Ithilwen's eyes widened even more as her mind struggled to focus.

'Please, release me from this evil!' her mind begged in desperation, 'I beg of you, Great Father of all Light Eldars! Release me from this evil to a world where good still lives and hope thrives in every good soul's heart!'

The star glowed once more, a bit brighter than before and Ithilwen suddenly felt light headed. Her body seemed to have floated into the air and she could hardly feel Àinfean's groping hands on her body any longer. She felt clear cool light seeping in through her body soaking itself into her bones right down to the marrow. Light all over, light glowing brighter and brighter before her very eyes and surrounding her body until she scarcely knew where she began and ended.

'I am dying…' she thought in an odd mixture of relief and melancholy, 'My friends told me that elves could die of a broken heart. Well, perhaps it is possible for eldars to die of a broken soul…'

That was her last brief thought before all consciousness faded away and The Star of The White Father of Eldars whisked Ithilwen away into a land and time that was very much different from her own.

A/N: Please leave me a review. To followers and favourites, thank you so much but nothing would make me happier than to hear from my readers in the form of reviews. Flames will not be tolerated. Thank you!