Melkor's Mistake

Prologue: The Vow

A/N: Oh. My. Illuvitar. I'm writing a Silmarillion fanfic! Yes! All right...please (nicely) let me know if something doesn't make sense with the book. It's really hard for me, and I might have missed something important. Also, this will have slow updates because...um...*whispers* I'm only halfway through the book. This mainly occurs in the time before Feanor's death and maybe a little bit afterwards. Please forgive my laziness in not putting accent marks on names. I write on a computer and it's a real pain to do that. Anyways...enjoy! Dedicated to @BJKaplan for suggesting I write a Silmarillion fanfic in the first place! Oh, one more thing...the chapters are a little weird. Almost every other chapter (not including this one: This and chapter one will bothe be current, then chapter 3, chapter 5, and so on) will be a flashback, and I'll italicize the whole thing so you're not really confused ;D

The wind blew fiercely around the top of the tower, whipping the elf's long hair around her face. There were tears streaming down her face as she tried in vain to protect her child. The little girl was young, but not too young to understand that something was wrong.

"What?" asked her husband quietly, shaking with rage. "What did you say?"

Knuckles white from holding on to the side of the tower, she said again, "This child is yours. She is your daughter."

He looked at her, eyes blazing, and smiled coldly. The wind died down a little. "So this is why you have been avoiding me. I see. Forgive me, my love. I was only surprised." He held out his arms in a loving gesture for her to come to him. Warily, she approached, motioning for the child to stay back. She knew how tempermental her husband could be.

As soon as she was in his arms, he slipped out the dagger hidden up his sleeve and stabbed it into her back. She gasped as blood started to spread across her blue gown. The child screamed and rushed forward as she fell to the ground, the light quickly fading from her eyes. The husband grimaced, and turned the dagger on the child. He said with disgust, "I suppose I'll let you live. Maybe as my servant. You could be useful."

As he turned away with a swish of his black cape, the child sobbed, "Adar! Adar, what have you done?" He froze, eyes smoldering.

"What," he began, "did you call me?"

The young girl hesitated before saying uncertainly, "Adar. That is what Nana told me to say."

He turned, slowly, glancing first at the dagger in his hand, then back at the girl. "Adar..." he muttered. "How dare you adress me in the tongue of my worst foes? How dare you? You were a mistake, and..." He looked at the knife again, "...and you need to die. I don't need you."

But she wasn't listening. She murmered softly to herself, paying him little attention, focusing only on what her mother had taught her to say if she was ever in need.

"What's that you're saying?" he asked, moving forward, and then he saw it. The Eagle swooped down from the sky, and the child threw herself off the top of the tower. Her father ran to the edge and saw her clutching tightly to the Eagle's feathers. Melkor, Lord of Darkness, yelled at her, "You will die. I will find you and kill you!"