Slinking around the borders of Lothlorien was a dark, lithe shape. The borders are heavily guarded, that is well known – but this figure seemed to think it could slip past. Dark skin helped it hide in the shadows, but in the blink of an eye the figure was facing nose to nose with a silver-tipped arrow. It blinked its yellow eyes, and then narrowed them in disgust. Those yellowish/gold eyes belonged to the face of what looked like a human-figure, with elvish accented ears. She stared at her attacker, and his dark elvish eyes have a small glint of question underneath his hood as he stared at the gold eyes. He almost began to lower his bow, but suddenly they were surrounded by a group of ten or more elves, all in hooded cloaks. They had there bows raised gracefully, forming a fifteen foot circle around the her. Sitting frozen with livid eyes in the dark shadows, the girl was forcibly pushed into the light and immediately surrounded by the elves and their harsh weapons. The original elf who had assaulted her only caught the loathsome glare from her yellow-flecked eyes before a shove set her angry vision to the ground. The male elf then followed at the rear of his company.
After hours of incessant marching and a few quick trifles that added two ill-willed wild men to the company, the elves suddenly stopped to decide what path to take their three captives on. Their first captive proved extraordinarily spirited and difficult, so they tied her hands with elven rope, and to a tree. There were no elves to spare to watch her while they dealt with the wild men at the moment. The sun was angled so that it shed light on her, glinting off her glaring, hostile eyes. Her face was scrunched in disgust and her brow deeply furrowed. She had deeply tanned skin, fierce golden eyes, shiny black hair, and her skin was tough with thick muscles showing. A small top of dyed red animal skin tightly fit her savage figure, and the same material formed a tunic-like skirt bound with brown leather at the waist, and thick dark brown boots came loosly halfway up her shins. Her arms had no sleeves but were bound with gold bands and black burns in the form of strange designs. Her entire look was savage and uncouth as she sat there scowling.
A sudden jerk from her rope told her they were moving again. The shadows became longer as sunset drew nearer, until the forests were dim and hazy in the twilight.
All at once the company of elves broke off in running sprints and loaded their bows. Harsh footsteps could be heard trampling the forests – a band of daring orcs was drawing near.
The girl stood fidgeting with her ropes when suddenly a hand closed over her mouth and dragged her down. After about two minutes she felt herself being picked up and whoever her captor was began running. They must have been close to the borders, for soon they had left the shade of the trees and were in fairly open space under the stars. Regaining her strength, the girl drew a forceful blow to the face of her captor, dropping herself to the ground. Her captor recovered, grabbed her wrist, then took off his hood and spoke. It was the dark-haired elf who had originally drawn an arrow at her.
“Easy, easy. Would you rather be with the rest of those elves?” He began in a mocking tone. His black hair was a tangled mess that hung right above his shoulders.
“Are you not also elf? What are you called?” She replied sternly, keeping her distance
“I am called Jack.”
She stared at him. What kind of name was that for an elf, let alone the fairest kindred of the golden wood?
“I am not of the Lorien bloodlines. I am what you call a Raen Elf; I am a wanderer.” He said in answer to her unsaid question.
“Then why do you roam with such company?”
He ignored her question but proceeded to return the interrogation.
“Who are you may I ask? You are even too, are you not? Your ears tell that fact.” Jack said, grinning as he reached up and playfully stoked the hair off her pointed ears. She pushed his arm away roughly.
“Rowen.” She said simply, her chin held up. “And I am no elf.