Silthalion's story Part one - This is a story of Middle Earth, coming from references of the story The Lord of The Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien. All *s represent actual words used in the book, so no one can accuse me of plagiarizing his wonderful stor

We all know the story of Arwen and Aragorn, but what more of Legolas Greenleaf? In my edition, there was one other companion that accompanied the fellowship in their journey....a Woman named Silthalion. She was no ordinary woman, for none could have her grace and be called mortal: she was a half Elf. Her name meant a silver light, shining strongly and dauntless.
Instead of acknowledging who she was, her father, a mortal man, took her into the wild to dwell in the realm of rangers. He didn't want anyone to know, for Silthalion would be famous before she could walk, so no one knew who she was. Her father died: shot by an orc, and her mother she knew nothing about. The only thing she had left of her parents was a shirt of Mithril rings which had saved her life countless times in ranger country.
There she spent her earliest years with rangers and became wise in the skills of tracking, healing, and the growing world. It was there that she became excellent with bow, skills unmatched by any who challenged her, and sword. Silthalion had long, golden brown hair; and those who had looked into her eyes said: They were always changing color and were as bright as stars, they could see farther than any mortals'. Her voice was like bells ringing, waking a dead place, ever so sweet. It could also be sharp as a needle when called for, or as icy as a January lake.
Silthalion knew one day she would have to make the choice of which kindred she would have to choose to belong to, and she wasn't sure at all which. Many years passed.
As she grew, she wandered the whole of Middle Earth, often staying closer to Elven dwellings than Men.
One day, traveling in Eriadod, quite near Harlond, she came upon a nest of four kittens. They were cold, two already dead from starvation, one dying. The last was mewing, still skinny and weak. Silthalion immediately felt her heart go out to them, and she buried the two, nursing the others until they could walk. They had grown beautiful coats, the first pure silver, fluffy, reflecting in the light. But the cold of the night in which she lived proved too much. The silver cat died, out of no where, almost. She went to sleep one afternoon, and never woke up.
The other, was very different, had grey stripes, but was patterned with spots as well, and like her eyes, were always seeming to change color. Silthalion called her Mir; which is Jewel, in the common tongue. Mir served as everything: scout, messenger, companion, almost everything, you name it.
During her travels, she came to Lothlorien. Galadriel welcomed her warmly, having foreseen her coming. She told Silthalion many things, and unbeknownst to her, Galadriel gave her a gift of keen senses, even for an Elf to boast. As well as an unusual sense to understand animals more than she naturally would have.

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