A/N: Hey. So there's some romance in this chapter...kind of. It's like, one sided romance, so there's nothing that would be inappropriate for children or anything like that *if you know what I mean*. It will seem like the romance comes out of nowhere, but it will be explained later, I promise. And Im sorry if this chapter sucks! Thanks for reading and please comment/vote/follow me! Dedicated to @fantasydancer because she followed me...and is the only other person I know on here who likes The Silmarillion (see, I told you yuor fanfic was better than mine)!

I sat down on the ground beside Feanor, careful not to disturb his thoughts. His long, raven-colored hair was braided in the usual elf style, and his deep blue eyes glinted with some emotion that I coouldn't discern before he closed them. I sighed.

"Feanor," I began, "you need to do something. Your people are becoming restless." Without opening his eyes, he responded, "I know. But I do not know how to help them. I fear I might have made mistake, Luinil."

"What?" I questioned, slightly shocked by his words. The Feanor I knew never doubted himself. He was always headstrong and stubborn, fiercely loyal to his family and ready avenge his father Finwe's death. He sighed again.

"Morgoth is too strong. I'm afraid there is nothing that we can do to stop him. We don't have a strong enough force, and we don't have a bargaining piece. I need those Silmarils, and I have no way to get them. And look at what I've done. I've led a whole host of Noldor away from our homes, and I don't know what to do, Luinil. I fear I am leading them to their deaths."

I nodded, but inside, my head was buzzing. Ever since I could remember, I had been best friends with Feanor. We'd played together as children and had always gotten along. He had a fiery spirit that complimented my shyness well. Yet, I had never told him my secret. I'd never told anyone my secret. No one knew why I didn't have any parents the day I showed up there, alone and frightened, and I didn't want to tell them. It hadn't seemed real at the time. There were multiple occasions on which I wanted to tell Feanor the truth, the reason I was so quiet and drawn in, but that wanting decreased when he was married. We no longer spent as much time together, and we began to grow apart. I didn't always agree with his decisions and thought he was becoming greedy and power hungry, spreading lies about the Valar.

After he was banished, people told me to forget about him. He was a bad influence on my life, and I didn't need that. But when the time of his departure to Middle Earth came, I knew that I had to go with him. I had no family; he was all I had, since no one had wanted to take me in, even when he was banished and I spent my days alone. Since his wife did not agree to come, we spent many hours together on the journey and became close again.

His words bounced around in my head: "We don't have a bargaining piece." He did have a bargaining piece, but he was not aware. He had me. Me, with my pitch-black hair, dull orange eyes, and milky-white skin. I practically radiated darkness, and every Noldor noticed. They didn't trust me. Feanor was the first to welcome me and enjoy my presence. But not even he had imagined in his wildest dreams that I was a bargaining piece. Maybe he would've if he'd known my story...but it didn't matter; he would find out soon enough.

My mother was an elf. She had beautiful, golden hair and eyes the color of the sky on a clear day, and she was as kind and loving as anyone could wish. I watched her die. Melkor, my father, stabbed her right in front of my eyes when I was still a small child. Yes, that was my secret: I was Melkor's daughter.

It was almost like Feanor could read my thoughts; he looked at me with a sad sort of smile and asked, "So...why do you look like that?"

My eyes focused on the ground, I said softly, "I'm not telling you. You've already asked me. I'm not telling."

He looked me directly in the face and lifted up his hand to gently brush my cheek, but I slapped it away, giving him my best icy glare and standing up.

"Stop it, Feanor," I repremanded. "You're married, remember?" As soon as I said that, we heard footsteps steadily growing louder and nearer. Feanor looked behind us and muttered, "How could I forget, with my sons not giving more that a few minutes of privacy? It's Maedhros."

When he reached us, Maedhros glared at me, just like he did every time we met. I didn't understand his hatred; I didn't understand anyone's hatred. That was part of the reason why I couldn't tell them about my father. If they hated me now, just because of my appearance, what would they do if they knew the reason behind it?

Maedhros turned to his father, now ignoring me, and said, "I must discuss something with you, Adar. Do you have your map with you? I seem to have lost mine."

Feanor grimaced. "It's in my tent, Maedhros. Just wait one moment. I'll get it." He turned and jogged lightly to his tent. I turned to follow, or at least leave Maedhros, but he grabbed my wrist. I glanced up.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice emotionless.

"Why do have such a fascination with my father?" Maedhros asked, pulling me closer to him. The moonlight glinted off his copper hair, but most of his face was hidden in darkness.

"I don't have a fascination with your father," I responded, still maintaining the flat tone. "Rather, he seems to have a fascination with me, don't you think?"

Before I could stop it, Maedhros's hand flew at my face. It not only angered me, but stung pretty badly too.

"Do not speak of my father like that! He is a great and noble elf, unlike you. What are you, anyways? Some mutant? The spawn of Morgoth?"

I went numb at his words. The spawn of Morgoth... Did he know? No, that wasn't possible. He was just insulting me. I knew that. But it scared me at first more than angered me. Unfortunately, Maedhros noticed my moment of fear.

"Well...what do we have here, little mutant? You flinched when I said that. The spawn of Morgoth? Have I struck a little too close to the truth, Luinil? Are you afraid?"

His words were unnerving, and I desperately tried to twist free of his grasp. I didn't care if he knew he was making me nervous; as long as I didn't say anything, it was alright.

"Oh, I don't want to let you go just yet, Luinil! We've only just begun our conversation!" he grabbed me with his other arm. Normally, I would be able to get out of situations like that, but I knew that I couldn't physically harm Maedhros. He would tell all kinds of lies about me. His hand came up to hit my face again.

"MAEDHROS!" a voice yelled. I turned. Feanor was sprinting towards us, a map in his left hand. We froze, Maedhros's right hand only inches from my face, his left digging into my forearm. My face was turned to the side, awaiting his blow. Feanor approached us and swatted his son's hand away from me.

"Are you hurt?" he asked,the concern in his voice evident. "I'm fine," I answered, pointedly looking at Maedhros. I did not have a fascination with Feanor. We were just friends. Maedhros sneered. Feanor turned to him, eyes blazing. In a quiet, but anger-filled voice, he said to his son, "I do not want to see you do that again, ever. Do you understand? You are not to touch her, hitting or otherwise. Here's your map. We will talk later. Go back to your tent, Maedhros."

Snatching the map out of his father's hand, he threw one last hateful glare at me before stalking away into the camp. Turning to me, Feanor finally got his chance to touch my face without being rebuffed.

"You're bruising," he said, keeping his blue eyes fixed on mine.

"It's fine," I replied, starting to get uncomfortable as he moved closer. His lips were only a few inches away from mine. His eyes flicked downwards, then his mouth was on mine. I didn't let it stay that way for long. The moment we touched, I took a huge step backwards, breathing heavily. It was my turn to be rude.

"Feanor!" I scolded, slapping him across the face. "You--need--to--stop. You are are married, and have--how many now?--seven children! Think about that for a moment. You have a beautiful elven wife. Why would you want me, the daughter of..."

I stopped talking, afraid that I had said too much. At first, he looked angry at me for hitting him, but it subsided as curiosity took over. He moved closer again.

"Daughter of who, Luinil?"

I closed my eyes, trying to think of something to say. "Daughter of no one. No one knows who my parents are. At least you know Nerdanel's heritage. You know her story."

"Yes, but I want to know yours. I know you weren't going to say 'no one', Luinil." He was making me uncomfortable again, though I couldn't tell if it was his words or the way he was looking at me, his eyes flicking to my lips every few seconds. I sighed. "I really can't tell you, Feanor. I'm sorry."

"You won't have to tell him, Luinil," said a snide voice from behind us. "And Adar, you might want to step away from her before you get poisoned. A servant of Morgoth can be dangerous, you know."

I whipped around, heart pounding, to see Curufin. Feanor practically jumped away from me, looking confused.

"Servant of Morgoth..."

Curufin sneered. "I'm afraid so. Maedhros told me the whole story, Luinil. How you confessed to him your story."

Feanor's eyes widened, and he no longer looked at me. "That means...when he was hitting her earlier...it was...protection...?"

Curufin nodded. "Yes. He's seen how close you two have become, and was trying to prevent something bad from happening. Who knows how much you've told the spy already?"

"Spy? What reason does Luinil have to spy on us for our worst enemy?" Feanor still looked confused, but I noticed he had inched much farther away and was eyeing me warily, so differently from before. I wanted to run at Curufin, to hurt him, kill him, with every fiber of my being. Even more so after he opened his mouth once more and spat out, "Because, Adar. Haven't you guessed by now? Look at her eyes, her pale skin, her obsidian-black hair. She has reason enough to spy on Morgoth, once you connect the dots. But I bet you haven't. No, you've always found her to be quite intiguing, haven't you, Adar? After all, your name does mean 'spirit of fire'. I suppose you have a flare for odd things."

"No," said Feanor steadily, though he still looked unsure of himself. "I have a flare for beautiful things."

"And Naneth was not beautiful?" challenged Curufin, anger showing on his face. "You choose her, the daughter of Morgoth, over Naneth?"

Feanor blinked slowly a couple times as that sunk in. It was painful to watch the realization dawn on his face, and I could feel tears spring up in my eyes as I tried to look away but couldn't. We made eye contact, and I felt the tears spill over. I watched his expressions contort as my life-long friend slowly changed into my enemy. I had Curufin to thank for this. Without warning, I ran at him punching, scratching, biting every single part of him. He fell to the ground and I pressed my knees onto his shoulders, hitting his face over and over again. I was much stronger than the elves knew.

With one final hit, Curufin lay unconscious on the hard ground. Rolling off of him, my chest heaving, I realized that I was still crying. So I lay there as Feanor walked over to me. Looking down, his expression was one of deep sadness and hurt.

"Fenanor," I gasped, realizing that I had just beat one of his sons unconscious, "I's not true." It was a complete lie, of course, but I had to try. "Neither Curufin or Maedhros have any proof."

His face contorted in disgust. "What I have witnessed now is all the proof I need."

"Feanor," I tried, getting up on my knees as he turned to walk away.

"I trust the word of my sons."

I stood up and tried to run after him, but tripped over Curufin's still unmoving form.

"Feanor!" I called. I could explain this. I could persuade him to believe me. We'd been as close as siblings for many, many years. He knew I wasn't a servant of evil. He stopped, and for a moment I thought he would come back. But he didn't. His regal form outlined by the moonlight, he only said to me, "Be thankful for that kiss, spawn of Morgoth, and savor it, even if you did not want it. It is the last form of affection you will ever receive from me. Now...get out of my sight before I kill you. Consider out friendship over."