Title: Mîr uin Annon. Pt. 4/?

Author: Deathangelgw

Disclaimer: Only the OCs are mine, sadly. The rest are the almighty Tolkien's! (May he not writhe too much in his grave…)

Warnings: AU, OC, sap, dark, angst, violence, death.

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: none really…

Notes: Like how I did the Saruman thing? Ah, didn't think so…ah well. Much thanks to MA for the beta and to Beren (who may never read this fic) for the translations!! Enjoy and please review!!

'thoughts'

Bright light blinded blurry blue eyes as they looked upon the grungy town of Bree. Once blonde hair was dirty and snarled with branches and dirt, while the little dress was torn and the skin scratched underneath. Teetering where she stood, the little Elfling Míriel looked upon the city with exhausted hope. Maybe now she would find her family…

Carefully, she stumbled from the forest and to the great doors, knocking timidly. She flinched as the door attendant stuck his head out to snarl at her, but his face softened as he saw her pathetic figure. He let her in, asking her softly who she was looking for, but she could not answer. She did not know anymore. She thanked him politely and went into the town, dodging the larger legs of the humans around her in fear and wariness. Finally, she caught sight of an inn that held a horse on its sign and went towards it.

Coming into the large inn, she flinched at the raucous laughter before shyly going to the front counter. She stood on her tiptoes, peering up in an effort to see, and then looked down disheartened. She cringed at the bawdy laughter and tiptoed over to the edge to see what was going on.

"Well well well!! Lookie what the streets brought in!" a loud voice declared close to her and she shrieked as she jumped away, looking around wildly. Her eyes widened in fear as she saw the large bearded man towering above her before he grabbed her roughly. She turned her face away as he stared at her, his breath reeking of alcohol and pipe smoke. "Ain't you a perty thing? Think I should get some good money sellin’ you…" he growled out with a wide grin and she sobbed in fear, pleading with him to let her go. His eyes grew confused and he cocked his head. "Ain't this somethin'! You're an Elf if I know that language!" he said in surprise, grinning at his friends who laughed.

"Let her be, Harin! She's just a child!" The innkeeper ordered sternly as he came over.

"I saw her first!" the man named Harin claimed, glaring at the innkeeper.

"I suggest you listen to what he says and let her go," a soft voice floated out over the racket, effectively silencing everyone present. All looked over to where the command came from to where two hooded figures sat by the fireplace.

"Says you, stranger. You ain't gots no right to tell me what to do," Harin slurred out angrily, and then shook Míriel roughly as she struggled again. She sobbed softly, whimpering in fear.

"Oh but we do," a second voice said, coming from the same pair as they stood up, facing the drunk. They pushed back their hoods enough for their faces to be seen and glared at the group with cold gray eyes. "Release her or lose your arm, friend," the figure on the right commanded in a hard voice.

Harin opened his mouth to shoot back a comment, but then stopped as he saw how heavily armed they were. He looked up again at their faces, squinting before letting her go. "Fine then…not worth the trouble fighting Elves. Pushy lot you are…" he growled out as he stalked out the door.

Míriel fell to the ground and curled up into a tiny ball, trembling. She jumped as a gentle hand touched her back, and then looked up fearfully into compassionate gray eyes. She blinked, and then sobbed softly as she launched herself into the strong hold, shaking in relief at finding her own kind. For she had seen the softly pointed ears and knew she had succeeded.

"Sedho hi, pen dithen.  Si barn le." The gentle voice soothed her and she sniffled as she looked up into the smiling face above her. "Le puidatham, êl dithen, a pedithach ammen o ian cenich." (Be still now, little one.  You are safe now; We will clean you, little star, and you will talk to us about what you saw.)

"Man le?" she asked softly as she was picked up and snuggled into the strong chest. She clutched at the soft tunic and buried her face there. (Who are you?)

"Elladan i eneth nín a san i 'wanunig nín Elrohir," came the soft reply from the one who carried her up the stairs to the room the two had rented for the night. (My name is Elladan and this is my twin Elrohir.)

"Gerich 'alu, as sí me, pen dithen," Elrohir murmured just as softly as they sat her on the bed. He smiled as she latched onto his brother's hand and would not let go, then stated, "I shall retrieve hot water and food for her." (You have good fortune, for we are here, little one.)

"Aye, tôr-neth," Elladan replied with a smile before turning to the trembling Elfling and holding her close. "No more worries, pen-neth. You are safe."(young brother; young one)

"I want my ada…and my nana…and tôren-iaur!" Míriel cried before weeping piteously as he enfolded her in his arms. (father; mother; my older brother)

"What is your name, pen-neth? And where is your family?" Elladan asked gently as he rubbed her back gently, yet carefully, aware of the cuts and bruises seen through her torn clothes.

"My name is Míriel and I do not know where they are," she replied quietly, hiccupping as his touches soothed her. "I was home and we saw dark clouds on the horizon. And then a big monster with a shrieking hooded person on the back came down and took me away!" She sobbed in fear, shaking harder as she buried her face in his stomach. “And then…and then I was in this…place and these nice little people helped me and some monsters came after us and…” She started sobbing again, her little body shaking with her sobs. “And they killed her and the others as I got away! She said to go to Bree and find my people! But I did not want her and Barlo to die!”

“There now, little one. Tis not your fault. Calm yourself,” Elladan said softly as he rubbed her back, looking up as Elrohir came back in, followed by the innkeeper’s wife, who bustled over and cooed at Míriel gently.

Calming slowly, the Elfling allowed herself to be cleaned and treated for her injuries, most of which were superficial cuts from branches. She hungrily ate the stew offered her twice over before snuggling into Elrohir’s lap and falling asleep. The woman left after giving them some extra clothes she had and they took turns watching over her, concerned over her exhaustion and all she had been through. Talking softly, they came to a decision to leave the next day for home.

*~~**~~*

“Are you sure your horse will not mind me?” Míriel asked timidly as she looked shyly up at the large stallion, clinging to Elladan’s hand as she all but hid behind his cloak.

Laughing softly, Elladan scooped her into his arms and hugged her. “Aye, little one. Aranaur will not mind your slight weight,” he replied in amusement before placing her onto the saddle and getting up behind her.

Reaching down, Míriel patted the white mane, smiling as the stallion tossed his head in pleasure. “Suilaid, Aranaur. Hannon le,” she said softly before sitting back into Elladan’s protective embrace as the stallion nickered softly in response. (Greetings, Aranaur. Thank you.)

Elrohir grinned as he canted his own mare over. “He likes you. He is rather fussy on those around him," he said warmly, smiling as Míriel grinned up at him. “Come, let us go.”

“Aye, tôren,” Elladan answered with a nod before they started off, heading for Imladris. (my brother)

The traveling was slow, for they took their time for Míriel’s sake. After the first day or so, she started getting used to them, relaxing and playing with them. Often times they would just watch her play with the horses or in the woods within their sights. However, many were the times where they would travel and tell stories, either them to her or her to them. In addition, as the time passed, they found the fondness growing to a gentle love as they cared for her, finding within her the little sister they had lost.

They grew closer to the Mitheithel, which meant not much farther to Imladris when trouble found them.

Elladan looked up as Elrohir played with Míriel in the river, eyes narrowed as they followed the sweeping clouds that were blowing in. He shaded his face as a rough wind blew up, throwing broken twigs and pebbles around them as the sky darkened to an ominous black. He turned back to his brother and their little charge, shouting over the rising wind. "We have to find shelter! This storm is not natural!"

"Hurry to the horses!" Elrohir called back as he scooped up the frightened Míriel into his arms and sloshed his way back to the bank through the suddenly rising waters. Rain began pouring down, sluicing the land with sheets of water that had them soaked in a minute. Lightening crashed and thunder boomed out as the wind whipped debris and rain at them.

Elladan reached for Míriel as his brother ran up, steadying Aranaur as the steed shied in fear at the storm. Holding tightly to the Elfling, he waited until Elrohir was mounted, and then both began urging their steeds up the bank. However, nature was clearly against them as the wind howled around them and the rain increased to a raging downpour. The two stopped and looked over in fear as they heard a rumbling and saw, to their horror, a brown wave of mud and river water heading down the bed.

"Mudslide!" Elrohir screamed as he tried to calm his bucking mare. "Elladan hold on!"

"To the trees!" Elladan yelled back, but it was too late. With rising panic, they watched as the flood rushed towards them and hit them hard. They were sent tumbling from their saddles and fought to stay afloat, then began searching in alarm for Míriel. Shouting for her as they got onto a boulder for safety, they looked frantically for the blonde Elfling.

The storm passed swiftly, leaving as quickly as it came and they swam to shore. They found their steeds, who had managed to swim to shore thankfully, then began the search for the Elfling. However, night came on and, in their despair, they wept for the lost child, for she had been swept away by the power of the storm.

*~~**~~*

A near lifeless body floated onto the shore of the Greyflood, coming forth near Dunland. She moaned softly and coughed as she bumped into the shore, being rolled onto the sandy beach by each gentle push of the once violent river. She was soaked head to toe and pale, her lips a light shade of blue from lack of oxygen. A shadow came over her as a figure stood above her, then knelt to check her over gently.

"Does the little one live?" a soft feminine voice asked as a second figure joined the first, gray eyes curious and filled with worry.

"Aye, barely. She survived somehow, though where she is from I know not." The Man's voice was gruff, yet gentle as he picked up the Elfling carefully. He patted her back and she coughed again, spewing up muddy river water. "Ai, pen-neth…how you survived with that much of the river within you is beyond me," the man exclaimed in amazement as he wrapped her in his velvet cloak.

"She is an Elfling, but I have not seen her before," the woman murmured softly as she caressed the pointed ear tips, earning a little moaning sob from the child as she turned into the affectionate touch. "She is far from home, seron vell. We must take her to the fire so she may warm."

"Aye, you are right, melethril. Come. Our comrades await us," the man stated warmly as he hugged the little one to him and they went back to the encampment. They went into the woods and found where the rest of their party was relaxing after their day's journey.

"So did you two have your fun by the river?" A gruff, yet cheerful voice rang out as they came into view, but stopped as soon as they saw that the two had a bundle.

"I will overlook your comment, Master Gimli, if you will hand me some towels, food, and drink for the little one," the Man directed softly as he sat down with his bundle while the others crowded close.

"An Elfling? But there has naught been an Elfling in three centuries!" a softer male voice declared in amazement as he knelt down by the Man, blue eyes filled with curiosity and worry as light fingers examined the pale features.

"I know, Legolas. We found her in the river, all but drowned. It must have been from the recent storm. Ah, my thanks, Gimli," the man explained softly, smiling at his friend as towels were brought over. A couple of the other men followed with warm food and drink and set them down as the female took the Elfling in her arms and proceeded to dry her, humming softly.

"Do you think that she was separated from her family?" another male voice asked, filled with doubt and concern as he sat on a nearby log, watching.

"I know not, Faramir. However, we should think into going to one of the Elven Realms and taking her there. What say you, Arwen?" the first Man asked the female, his face gentle with love.

"I agree, but which is closest? If we keep going, we could reach Lothlorien soonest," Arwen replied as she rocked the little one, who had shifted into a healing sleep.

"But Imladris would have the healers if she becomes ill," Faramir said softly, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"Elves do not sicken as easily as Men do, Master Faramir," Legolas commented softly as he placed a hand on the pale face.

"Legolas is right. Nevertheless, a healer may indeed be needed. Imladris it is then. Faramir, will you go on with the rest and take my stead until my return?" the first of the Men asked softly as he faced his second.

"Aye, my King. It would be an honor," Faramir replied with a bow of his head before setting back.

"Then we leave on the morrow," Aragorn declared firmly as he turned his worried gaze to the healing Elfling. Who was this child and how did she come upon them?

TBC