Author's Note: Mae Govannen! After I small break, I have returned with my fourth story. 

Disclaimer: I do not own these wonderful ideas, I'm just putting my own spin on them.

Please review, REVIEW!!!

Chapter 1: The Fading of the Light

The times were changing.  The land was changing.  No mortal could describe what was occurring, but even their small perception of time could tell them that something was changing the landscape of Middle Earth. 

            Existence was changing for the immortal and magical creatures of the world. 

Unicorns, which were once seen forming the forests, were becoming scarcer.  Not even the presence of a young maiden could coax the remaining ones out into the open.  Some believed there was none left, for the forests did not contain that shimmer that announced their unique magic.

            Fairies could not longer be found on the fields, appearing as nothing but fireflies to the untrained eye.  Only those with knowledge of their habits would be able to catch their playing on the flowers, but even beings that had seen fairies proclaimed to not having seen one in many ages.

            Dragons were not found in the caves of Middle Earth.  Rumors of great piles of gold went unattacked, and warriors could no longer test their metal against the great might and fire of a such a powerful foe.

            However, none of that was as disturbing as one trend.  One change, which stroke fear into their friends, and into the heart of the land itself. 

            Elves were slowly disappearing from the landscape.

            Not long ago, there was a time when Elves were seen daily by some of the peoples of Middle Earth.  They were numerous enough to build great armies and fight in great battles.  They had spectacular cities and multiple cultures.  One race of Elf varied greatly from another.  There were elves in Rivendell, Mirkwood and many places in between.

            Now, they were dwindling.  Places that used to be great holdouts of the Elves were abandoned.  By the time of the war of the one ring, Elves were so scarce that the Hobbits had never even seen one before their journey.  It was after the war of the ring that the race of the Firstborn truly began to fade, for they were not called upon by the other races.  There was peace and the threat was no longer.  It was always assumed, especially by man, that the immortals would always be there when they needed them.

            They were immortal, after all.  Time slowly passed, and it was not long after the battle that some men closed themselves off to the rest of the world, hiding in its undeveloped corners looking for places none had ever seen before.

            Soon, far too soon, they were so few that some peoples had already forgotten them.  Elves were said to be only legend and myth in the far out places of the world.  Immortality was an unbelievable concept in some cultures, if only they knew that there were still some members of the forgotten race in Middle Earth.  There had to be, for it was them who gave the forest its shimmer and the river its sparkle. There had to be some left.  Somewhere.

            The beautiful Elves were leaving Middle Earth, the call of the sea proving too much for them to resist.  It was some unbelievable force which beckoned them.  A calling from afar that had to be answered.  Once an Elf left to find out what the sea wished of it, it would not return from its quest.

            But what was this call?  Elves assumed this to be nature's call to them to move on.  That they would find no more on these shores and they should pursue new places, unseen by Man or Dwarf. 

            It was believed they dove into the sea, hoping to find what they were seeking among the waves.  They had the power to live beneath its surface, to dwell on its floor.  That is where they went, and that is where they remained.  Growing more and more faint in the realm of the lands.  Residing together just off the shores, riding the tides, held there by some mysterious force. 

            The question remained about the source of this pull of the sea.  No one thought that it could be something other than nature's will.  No one believed that anything could have the power to affect an entire race.  No one thought that a creature could have such power as to hold them there, for its own delight, but they were deceived

            Gandalf knew something was unnatural about all of this.  After Lord Elrond had left, something began to plague his dreams.  Images of fire, a great being of fire.  What did this have to do with the Elves journeying to the sea? He knew he would have to find out, he would solve this puzzled of else see the most fair of all beings fade from the landscape forever.  He would need his friends, the Dwarf and the Man to go with him.  For this was all of their business, this was the business of all of Middle Earth.  They would find their friend Elf and they would together journey to find the power that had claimed such a tight grasp on all the Firstborns of Middle Earth.