The Silverleaf (LOTR Fanfiction)

Prologue:The Finding of the Flower

This story is concerned chiefly of elves. Sustained by the light of the Valar, the elves left Valinor to settle in Arda, known in the Common Westron as Middle Earth, to dwell among Mortal Men and the Free People. Yes, there were Ents as you might have known. But they were still wild and unknowable, free to walk their forests alone. Only the Elves ever drew close to them in friendship.

Thousands of years past by, marked by the  ever continuing shadow of Morgoth, hated and feared by all. War broke upon the lands unceasingly, like waves upon a shore. At last, Morgoth met his end in The Great War of Wrath, which changed the face of Middle Earth as it was known. Sorrow and hate had filled the time before his banishment, marked by Kinslayings, betrayals, and murders. The realms of Nargothrond, Doriath, and The Havens of Sirion were swept away, leaving the Elves broken, confused and lost. Only after Morgoth was chained to the depths of stone did the elves see joy for how it was. However, the full sorrow of their long lives could be seen in their fair faces forever.

Galadriel and many of the Fair Folk of Royalty were persuaded to go to middle earth when the Elf Lord Feänor was determined to rebel against the Valar and win back the Silmarils. During the First Age, she met and fell in love with the Elf Lord Celeborn (name: Silver Tree). Their love was a mighty one, enough to kindle the stars and unite a realm under them after the fall of Eregion. Galadriel, with all of the mighty power gifted to her by the Valar, and the power of the Elf Ring Nenya, established Lothlórien as a kingdom likened as to the old of Doriath. She fenced it in just as her friend Melian had done, but not near as strong. Lothlórien became a haven for those who sought guarded peace, and a place no evil thing dared to try and enter.

This is where Rîniel first entered the history of Arda.

A small war with the increasingly daring orc hordes of Moria was raging around the outskirts of Lothlórien in the Year Third Age 510. The war of the ring had only been a few centuries before. The villages of the Silvan elves that lived beyond the protecting walls of the Lady of the Wood's elven magic were terrified of what could happen to them. The few noble folk of the fair realm that kept the peace of the outlying cities were taken captive, tortured or slain. The children were sometimes sold as slaves, and the women... unspeakable things happened where darkness was rampant.

One horribly sunny and cheerful day, the small city of Ostwhesta, when the elanor flowers were blooming and the baby mallorn trees in the gardens were glowing with the sun, a black, cruel arrow sped its way into the heart of a tree, barely missing an elven lady's head. She screamed, but it was too late. Without warning no less than five hundred orcs snuck up unnoticed around the city in various places and began to mutilate and destroy everything within their reach. After two hours of bloodshed and fire, murder and fear, all ellith and ellyn left in the city were dead. The life was vanquished, never to return to that accursed spot. The name of Ostwhesta was whispered among many for years, everyone shaking their heads at how one minute elves with lives, hopes and futures could be dancing around the city square, and next lying among the wreckage of blood and war.

When Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel finally heard of the destruction, they sent their best contingent of soldiers to scout for any survivors. Among them was Radillion, first captain of the guard. He was a hard warrior, touched by thousands of years of service in Mirkwood and Lothlórien. Though inflicted with sorrow, he was pure, and good. These city destructions were not new to him. He treated it with indifference.

"Captain!" He heard a yell from inside a half collapsed building. Dismounting, he ran inside with the soldier that called him. He was not prepared for the site. Ten or more bodies lay in a tight bunch. Some had pots or sticks in their hands, and several orc carcasses lay on the outside, indicating there was a struggle before the death. They were obviously protecting something, Radillion thought to himself. What could have been more important than their lives? He pushed aside one of the handmaiden's bodies, for they were all young ellith, and stumbled back with a gasp.