Where I truly Belong (Short Legolas Love Story)

Prologue

Anameleth (Ahn-nah-meh-leth)

My name is Anameleth and I've always been...different. There were little things like being exceptional at horse riding, loving weapons by the times I was four, and other things that any adult probably wouldn't have thought twice about. The other children though, they were different. I was picked on constantly, but was it because of my strange little corks? No, it was because of my ears.

My looks have always been different, almost like an elves. My facial features were soft and many have said I was beautiful by the times I could hear them. My hair was a blonde that almost seems to glow in the moonlight and my eyes were gold. My ears were exactly that of an elf, pointed. While I liked them and thought they were unique, the other kids made fun of them. Over the years I've come to hate them.

I was currently laying in a bed, not mine, and staring at the ceiling. I was just staying the night here and then I would find a new place that was vacant. Sometimes I slept in the tunnel in the park, but then I was always afraid someone would find me. I had a job at the coffee house down the street as a waitress, but I used all my money for food, clothes and my lessons.

Now you might think I'm stupid for taking lessons of any kind when I don't even have a place to live, and you might be right. But I don't think I could stop my lessons, they were the one thing in this horrible world that made living worth while. I went to Archery lessons, Sword lessons and the occasional Private Karate lesson when I had enough money. I had just about mastered Archery and my Sword lessons, after I mastered them all I had to pay for was the use of a target range, for swords I could just go in the woods and practice there. Then I could go to Karate lessons more often.

I sighed and my mind switched gears, unfortunately it switched to my parents. They died in an "accident" when I was just a toddler, I don't even remember them. I was placed in foster care, that was a joke! I ran away so many times and they didn't even care, but when I was 15 I didn't, couldn't, go back. I have lived in the streets since then, and my birthday had just passed, yet I knew not how old I am.

It seems like its been forever since I left my foster parents and I've had many jobs. I've seen people younger than me grow old and die of natural causes. I've seen years pass and things change in the town I live in. I've seen so many things that I shouldn't have to. Yet somehow I only looked maybe 25, yet I know it's been may more years than that.

I sighed and got up, knowing I wouldn't be able to sleep when my mind was so busy. I got up and got dressed in my hunting clothes. They consisted of a comfortable T-shirt and some shorts with a brown cloak over everything. I tied my sword to my belt and put my quiver on my back and I carried my bow in my hand for now. I tied my hair up and put it in a kind of bun, my hair normally hung down to my waist. I slipped on my shoes as a last thought, they were just summer slip-ons.

I walked out of the building quickly and into the snow. Yeah you heard me right, snow. It was the dead of winter, but I rarely ever got cold so it doesn't matter how I dress. I ran to the woods and walked for a while until I started to get tired. I scaled a tree quickly and settled myself into one of the highest branches. I used my cloak to cover myself with, not even bothering to remove the weapons. I knew that I might need to run at any time.

I looked up at the stars and wished the same wish that I did every night, "I wish to return to where I belong."

After that I let sleep claim me.