A/N: FLASHBACK! I know it switched from past tense to present tense. I'm doing that with flashbacks. Just bear with me, okay? ;P Some Sindarin words I probably should have put in other chapters: Adar- father, Ada- Daddy (more affectionate than Adar), Naneth- Mother, Nana- Mommy/Mama (more affectionate than Naneth), Gwestog?- Do you promise? Nidh- Ouch!

And some Quenyan phrases: Man esselya ná?- What is your name?, Á tulë sinomë- Come here, man cárath- what are you doing, Nás harna- She's hurt, Áva sorya- Don't worry

AND YOU DEAR READER, DO NOT WORRY! You don't have to remember all these. Luinil is confused, so therefore its okay for you to be confused too.

SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME, MIDDLE EARTH HISTORY QUESTION! Does it make sense that Luinil's mother speaks Sindarin, or should she speak Quenya? I'm having a bit of trouble figuring it out...and I feel like there are a lot of history mistakes in this chapter, so please PLEASE tell me if something is wrong so I can fix it as soon as possible. Sorry for the long author's note. Now read! ;D

I bury my face in the Eagle's soft, brown feathers, sobbing. Adar's vow still seems to echo off the rough rock faces. He wants to kill me. He just murdered Nana, and he wants me dead too. What have I ever done to him? I've only been alive a few years.

I can't help feeling like it's my fault Nana is dead. As soon as Adar saw me, as soon as he realized that I am his daughter, he killed her. And that means it's my fault. My heart feels like it's being torn in half, and I wonder how anyone could do that. How could someone kill their love like that? But I know. The answer is somewhere deep inside of me, but I know. He did it to make sure that he didn't have liabilities. I'm his daugther. A small part of me, no matter how hard I try to hide it and bury it, understands.

* * *

About a year ago, Nana looked worried. True, she was often worried for me and my safety, but she seemed more concerned than ever. When I asked her why, she only said, "I fear your father is growing to love power more than me."

I assured her that he wasn't, climbing on her lap, stroking her honey-colored hair and whispering, "It's going to be all right, Nana! I'm sure Ada loves you. Why don't you take me to meet him sometime? You'll see that it's true."

She only stroked my hair, tears glistening in her blue eyes as she muttered, "I don't know, little one. I just don't know." Then her expression turned happy again, though it was obviously forced. She wiped the wetness from her eyes, cleared her throat, and said sweetly, "Come, Luinil. It's time for you to go to sleep."

I put out my bottom lip and pouted, "But Nana! I don't want to sleep yet!" Nana picked me up by my waist and gently dropped me on the bed, starting to tickle me. Only seconds after my loud giggles had begun to fill the air, she stopped abruptly, twitching her nose like a surprised animal, listening.

"Luinil! Get under the bed, my dear!" My face still flushed from laughing, I questioned, "Why?" Nana looked picked me up again and shoved me under there, the urgency now audible in her voice as she hissed, "Get down. You must stay here and be quiet, understand? Do not come out or make a sound under any circumstances."

I nodded, suddenly afraid. I'd never seen Nana so urgent. Careful not to make any noise, I shifted so that I was in a position that would make it easier to run if the need arose. Nana sat on the bed, trying to act natural. The door burst open, and a figure strode in, clad in black from head to toe, leaving only his orange-tinted eyes and mouth visible. I wanted to scream, I really did, but I remembered Nana's words and kept my mouth shut.

The figure looked around suspiciously, his eyes lingering on the space under the bed for an agonizingly long amout of time before they flicked up to Nana. He smiled, though it did seem rather cold and artificial.

"My love," he said, moving to sit beside her on the bed. My vision was blocked by his black, thick-soled boots, so I could not see what happened afterwards, but it sounded like he kissed her. She laughed quietly and said softly, "How did a Child of Illuvitar end up with you, Melkor?"

He only chuckled in response, getting up and glancing around the room one more time before leaving, letting the door shut gently behind him. Nana's face appeared in front of me as she crouched down, extending an arm to help me up. I realized that I had been holding my breath and let the air out.

"Nana," I began, not really wanting to know the answer, "was that Adar?" She tried to smile at me in a reassuring way, but failed miserably.

"Yes, my child. That was Melkor, your Adar."

"He scares me, Nana," I whispered softly, trying not to hurt her feelings. Sighing, she set me on the bed and ruffled my hair. As she pulled a blanket over me, she reassured, "He won't hurt you, Luinil."

"Gwestog, Nana?" I asked, sitting up and partly pushing the balnket off of me, slipping into Sindarin. Nana stared at me for a moment before replying, "I promise."

* * *

I let the tears roll down my face, not caring where the Eagle takes me; it is a creature of Manwe, and therefore I trust it. Why? I should despise Manwe as much as Adar. But I don't. Not really. I don't feel any sympathy towards Adar, no longing to have him hold me like a proper father as I did only a few weeks ago. Whoever is against him, I will stand by. Slowly, exhausted from all of the crying and stricken by grief, I fall asleep on the Eagle's back.

When I wake up, it is nowhere to be seen. I'm laying by a river, near some tall reeds, and at first am confused. What am I doing here? My head is pounding, and for some reason I'm clutching feathers in my hands. Then it all comes flooding back. I remember.

Feeling tears well up in my eyes, I take a deep breath, trying to calm down. It doesn't work, and a sob excapes my lips. As the water seeps through my clothing, I wonder if it's better to just die here, in the water, away from everything, away from Melkor and away from Elves.

Soon enough, I hear footsteps, as though someone is splashing through the water towards me. My body freezes up, and I try to make as little noise as possible. I close my eyes.

"Man esselya ná?" a voice asks. It sounds young, like me. Unfortunately, I have no idea what it said. I open my eyes, slowly, and look around. A male elf with chocolate-brow hair and eyes as blue as Nana's stares down at me. He's wearing fancy red, blue, and gold clothing with a small crown of silver resting on his head. He repeats his question, squatting down beside me.

"Man esselya ná?" I don't understand him. He obviously doesn't speak Sindarin, though it does seem to be some sort of Elvish.

"Fingolfin!" calls another voice from the left, which sounds slightly older than the first, and my head snaps that way. "Fingolfin, man cárath?"

"Á tulë sinomë, Feanor!" the Fingolfin says, glancing over then looking me over as though sizing me up. We make eye contact. He stares for a moment before turning to look at the owner of the other voice, who is splashing through the water. I assume his name is Feanor, since that's what the first one called him.

Feanor's eyes flick from my toes to my head. They widen considerably when they reach my right arm, then again upon reaching my head.

"Nás harna!" he says, agitated, as he looks at Fingolfin. Fingolfin crosses his arms across his chest and plants his feet, as though he's telling Feanor that he's not moving.

"Figolfin!" Feanor scolds, motioning with his hands for Fingolfin to go somewhere. Feanor motions again, and with an overly dramatic eye roll, Fingolfin turns to leave. I don't know what they're talking about, but Feanor seems worried, especially when he looks at my head. Slowly, my arms feeling like lead, I lift up my arm to touch the spot where the pain is worst. When I draw it back, it's covered with something warm, sticky, and red: blood. He watches me, unmoving, until another tear slides down my cheek. I hardly realize, but he takes one of my hands and says gently, "Áva sorya." It seems he is trying to comfort me. Another tear falls, and I try to give him my best smile to let him know that I at least understand that he is trying to help me.

"Nîdh!" I yell as a jolt of pain shoots through my body. It hurts so much, and I writhe as Feanor springs to his feet. I briefly wonder what will happen to me once Fingolfin returns. The sun glints off of the crown resting on his raven hair, shining in my eyes and incresing the pain in my head. I don't know what the injuries are from, but I don't have time to think about it before I become unconscious.

* * *

When I wake up, I'm laying in a bed. I don't know how long it's been since the river. I lift my head up, pushing the puffy, white comforter off of me, taking in my surroundings. The room is rather small, but beautifully constructed. There are flowers carved above the door and etched into the walls, which are a pretty, golden brown color. I have to squint in order to see, as my eyes aren't used to all the light. Angaband is a dark place, and I've hardly ever seen the light of the Two Trees before. It's so beautiful, I feel like my heart is going to burst, and I can't help but smile, even though my head still hurts a little bit.

A door creaks open to my left. Turning to look, I see Feanor and two others peek their heads around the edge of it. Feanor smiles at me and motions for the two younger elves to come in after him. Coming to the edge of my bed, he asks, "Man esselya ná?" I can only shake my head. When will they catch on that I don't speak their language? One of the younger elves, not Fingolfin, pushes the others aside and points to his chest. "Finarfin," he says, annunciating very clearly for me. When I nod, he gestures to Feanor and Fingolfin and introduces them. I smile and point to myself. "Luinil."

All three of them grin. Now we are getting somwhere. I open my mouth to try to say thank you, somehow, but the door opens again, this time admitting a regal looking elf. He is definitely and elf lord. Feanor looks just like him, so I assume this is his father. As he glances down at me, his lips drawn tightly together in a frown, my smile fades and fear returns.

"Atta," whispers Feanor to me, gesturing to this lord. "Finwë"

Observing me closely, Finwe doesn't look the slightest bit pleased with what his sons have brought home. I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror beside the bed, and I realize that I must look odd the the elves. Evil maybe.

In that moment, with Finwe looking down on my like I'm a wild, untamed animal infected with a disease, it hits me. I can't stay with these elves. I'm not like them. I'm part Vala for one thing. The other thing is that my father is Melkor. Nana frequently talked about how much the elves and Melkor loathed each other. If they find out that I'm his heir...

Staring into Finwe's disapproving glare, I silently vow to keep my mouth shut. I will never tell anyone my heritage, and I'll leave these elves at the soonest opportunity. Turning my head to Feanor, I notice the way he is looking at me now. His glance is mingled curiosity, excitement, and...something else. Maybe fear? Maybe regret for bringing me here? But how could it be regret? He seemed so happy only a moment ago when we exchanged names.

His gaze shifts to the floor, and I say my vow again in my head, but this time I add an extra part. I will find my father, and do everything I can to avenge Nana. Even if I have to die because of it. Melkor has made his promise. Now I make mine.

Gwestog.