Baptized in Blood and Flame

Chapter 1: Introduction

Beforehand: My character is named Tauriel, after the character in the Hobbit movies, but otherwise shares no connection with her. (I'm really sorry guys I just liked the name.) Read on!

Since the elves had awoken under the stars of Varda, before Oromë had found them singing their songs, before the Noldor and the Vanyar first beheld the light of the Two Trees, they had begun to dabble in magic. The elves, being the first children of Illuvatar, possessed a great talent for magic. Over their millennia, they became more skilled, shaping themselves and the world around them. The elves of the greatest power became noble families.

When the Silvan elves moved eastward after the destruction of Beleriand, they were lead by a Noldor, who they took as their king. In his house, there were great gifts of magic.

Oropher, one of the first Quendi who awoke in Middle Earth, who with his sons crossed the Grinding Ice because of his deep friendship with Finrod of the house of Finwë, gifted with control over light, which shines from the stars or the moon or the lights he crafted of living stone to light his kingdom.

Thranduil, born under the light of the two trees, gifted with a talent for illusion and glamour; in making people believe and see what was not truly there.

Aglarad, the second son of Oropher, who could summon the winds of Manwë to aid him, and whose soul was gentler and kinder than the soft summer breeze that chiefly held his love.

Then, in the First Age of the Sun, Oropher and his sons swore an oath to the King of Doriath and his kingdom, and Thranduil met and fell in love with Arvuin Elenathiel, the young daughter of Melian and Elu Thingol. The magic of her mother flowed strong in her veins, as it did in her elder sister, Luthien. It strengthened the magic of the house of Greenwood, bringing even stronger powers to their children.

Their son Legolas was granted the ability to understand and speak the ancient language of the trees which he loved so deeply.

And Tauriel, born into a world slipping again into darkness, was given a gift of fire. Only the hottest of flames could harm her; a gift which would suit her well in her battles. Of course, as a young elven princess, she was mostly unconcerned with battle. So young was she when her mother was slain, that nearly no memory remained. She was raised sheltered and safe. Hidden away from the beauties and pains of the world.

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Third Age: 2472

Tauriel leaned over the rail of her balcony, craning her neck to see the gate. Her sharp eyes easily picked out her brother's platinum hair as soon as he stepped out, leading the rest of the patrol out. She watched them until the last quiver vanished behind the ancient trees of the Woodland Realm.

Being the younger of the royal elflings, she had few duties to bother with. Her Father never noticed if she slipped away, as she had moments before in order to watch her brother enter the woods. No one would look for her for hours, at least. Now was her chance.

Making sure there was no one who could be watching, she took a few steps back before running into a leap that carried her over the balcony and through the air until her feet landed on the wide bough of a tree. Even the smallest boughs that branched out from the trunk were wider than her, so she felt no fear as she lightly scaled to the ground. Once her feet touched the leaf-covered earth, she broke into a run, sprinting with the strength of a wild horse and the silence of a cat.

It was an easy path, all she had to do was avoid the routes that she knew Legolas led the guard along. She began to hear a low roar in the distance, which meant she was nearing her destination.