Elven Princess Under the Mountain

Chapter 1

Hello new readers! This chapter is like a prologue, YOU MUST READ if you want to understand what the heck is going on. Thank you so much for choosing this to read, it means a lot.

I do not own any characters aside from our amazing Oc Jackie and the king under the mountain of this chapter, if any one else comes in I'll let you know. Also, after the first chapter I do not own the plot until later on, if I continue the story that far, but that is a thing of the future!

Oh and, if you see any mistakes I'm really sorry. I read it over twice but I could have missed something.

WARNINGS: zilch.

Now finally for all you poor souls who take the time read the A/N, on with the story!

She hid in the trees just like amil noun (mother) told her to. The fire was pretty, she wondered why amil noun would make her hide, the other elves of her small tree village at the edge of Mirkwood weren't. Maybe their amil nouns (mothers) did not tell them to. They looked like they were having fun, dancing around the flames, sure they were dancing in jerky movements, almost like they were trying to avoid the pretty flames and do something important quickly at the same time. And they were yelling for nén (water) like their lives depended on it. The fire was also burning the houses, she frowned that was definitely odd, then again, they may be doing it for fun.

That was annoying, just because she was the youngest by hundreds, maybe thousands of years here didn't mean she could be sidelined. She was 4 after all, she thought spitefully, old enough to do great things atar (father) said so himself.

Crawling out of her hiding place beneath a bush she was about to stand up, but a group of Orcs plowing through the trees behind someone usually makes them stay down, usually.

Cowering under her hiding place once again she watched as the horrible monsters killed every single elf in the village, growling and barking in some unknown language that hurt her ears to listen to.

She stayed still even when she saw things no child should have to see, even when they returned to the tree's on their wargs, riding swiftly back to the mountains, even when the fires turned to embers, even when the sun rose and set on the next day, and the day after that. Her mother's last words echoing in her mind; "lom- ye alā ettul- winimo, melinyel." (hide and do not come out little one, I love you.)

After days of staring at the wreckage she crawled out from beneath her bush slowly, stopping and cowering in a ball whenever she heard a noise. Looking through the dead bodies of the people of her village she tried not to look at their faces, but the few she did catch with the corner of her eye stayed ingrained in her memories forever. Some staring blankly eyed at the sky, others with confused fear etched in the lines of their faces like they still could not understand that they were being attacked. Somebody's had intertwined hands, lovers dying together, others were alone, curled up in a ball with their arms coconing their legs, head tucked to their knees and eyes shut tight, like if they wished it all away it would make it disappear.

Finally she found who she was looking for. Pulling them out from under a pile of she-elves she stared down into the glazed eyes of her atar (father) and amil noun (mother). Dragging them back to her bush and sat them down, propping them up against the green foliage. Then wrapping their lip arms around herself. She sat and waited. Waited for them to wake up.

One week went by and she did not move at all. She was starting to fall asleep under the hot midday sun when she heard the first sound that came from another living thing, the forest around her was deserted, she had noted that on the first day of sitting there.

A horse came into the burnt clearing. That's funny, she thought, that horse is really small. And the elf on top of it was smaller. He didn't look like an elf, she frowned, he was too small and stocky, and his ears were round like a humans.

He had too much hair as well, bright red, like the fire, the fire, the fire, she thought. His beard came down to his chest and the hair on the top of his head was pulled into a man-bun at the back of his head. Amil noun (mother) wears her hair in a bun, amil noun, amil noun, amil noun. He had a silver tunick embroidered with white lines on it's cuffs and the bottom with black pants to match with the same white lines on it's cuffs. A golden crow sat on his head with precious jewels shining in their spots; rubys, emeralds, sapphires, dimond's.

One of his many companions sitting on similar funny horses dressed, not as fine, but still very well, must have said something funny because the crown-man-elf threw his head back and laughed. Her atar (father) throws his head back when he laughs, atar, atar, atar.

Crown-man-elf stopped laughing, he had seen her.

Dismounting his funny horse he made her way over to her. Why does he look surprised, she thought.

Crouching down beside her he spoke, his voice was deep and calm, like the water they asked for at the fire, the water, the water, the water. "Hello lit'le elfling, what are you do'in ere all alone?"

"Nányë hast an amil noun ye atar -nna coiva" (I am waiting for mother and father to wake up)

Turning to his advisor the King Under the Mountain didn't even need to speak before his translator told him what the young elfling said. "The young elf said,'' My Lord," said a dwarf with dark brown hair and a light brown tunick said, "I am waiting for mother and father to wake up."

Turning back to the child he now realised who the two elves draped around her must be. Ugly sword gashes ran down their backs that could only have been made by an Orc sword. "I don't know elvish, can you speak 'ommon tongue?" The poor thing tilted her head.

"A ..... loitle bit." She said slowly.

Smiling sadly, he slowly removed her from her parents' corpses. A string of elvish came from her mouth but he did not need his translater to know what she was saying.

"Lit'le one, your folks ain't wakin up." He watched as the realisation passed over her small face. A tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another, and another, and another until they came steadily down her face, suddenly she turned her face against his chest, crying against the material of his tunik.

"That means," she said jerkely "I don't have a nossë (family)"

"She said family my lord." The translator said watching along with the rest of the company with a shocked face.

"I know what she said, you idiot." He snapped, "I come to Mirkwood at least once every year, I know some elfish." Turning back to the small elf in his arms he said in a gentler tone; "I can be your nossë (family)" Gasps echoed around the clearing and he turned and gave all the astonished dwarves the evil eye. "How old are you?"

"Can- (four)" She said looking up, then correcting herself, "four, do you really mean that Lord Crown-man-elf?"

Raising a Red eyebrow he laughed, deep and loud and it vibrated all through her, he looked different, she noted, then he did a second ago. "It's Thain, Thain, King Under the Mountain, but you lit'le one will call me Thain. And yes of course I do"

"Yes atar (father) Thrain." She responded

"Now what shall I call you lit'le one?"

"Jaclaë-Frolana"

"Jacl-," he tried, "I ain't going to remember that! What about... Jackie?"

"Jackie,I like it." Jackie said.

So? What do ya think? I know that I didn't say her name until the very end but that was 101% intentional! Please, please, please comment, it would mean the world, if not, just keep reading. I will update when I can. I'm going to try once a week, maybe even more than that if I get time.