This is a first for me, requested by Nazgurl340 please forgive me if its not what you wanted, I haven't written one for him before. I hope you enjoy!!

Isithdrae was always placed as an outcasted she-elf, it only became natural for her to hear laughter as she walked by, comments and stares were common, she didn't cry about them any longer.

That didn't mean it hurt her any less, it was a strong decision of hers that she would leave the elven land of Rivendall when she reached an age where she could carry herself well.

So when the time came there was no fear of where she would wound up, unfortunately for her she was captured within the day.

Though captured was an uncommon phrase used to describe what 'The Witch King' would do upon a ellith. He would cut off their heads, have his nazgul rip it apart, but a capture, it was unreal.

***

She desperately tried to run away, but the squeal of the nazgul slowed her pace, she was found. She fell on the hard dirt ground and looked up to the faceless King with tears, though fear was not what she had.

The witch king looked upon her teary eyed expression and felt something in his heart he hadn't known was possible anymore. He couldn't smell fear on her, what was the scent? He ordered her to be captured and as on time he arrived at the dungeons she was placed in back in Angmar.

Isithrae was set free in a matter of hours, The witch King commanded his dark servants to let her free and free she was, but she would not leave.

She stayed in the darkest corner of the dungeon, for days the King would check on her, she would speak to him, but of no reply. He grew fond of her.

She stayed in the dungeons for a week and he couldn't have been more clueless, why did she stay?

He went into the dungeon once again that morning and commanded they be left alone.

He stood above her.

"What is your name?" He spoke, sending shivers down her spine.

"Isithdrae." She answered boldly.

"Why do you linger in the dungeons? You were freed."

"Why do you come to me every morning? Your dungeons do not hold anymore prisoners for you have not captured any other living being." She replied.

"I do not know."
"I can not give an answer to a question I can not answer myself."

"It is love. Is it not?" She smiled, and looked upon him.

"You ask many questions."

"Love is a choice, a feeling, do not tell me you don't feel this my King." She stood.

"Your King?" He dragged out his words.

"You would not have captured me, and set me free of no injury if you did not love me."

"If injury is what you wish-"

"You may harm me if you believe it isn't true." She stood strong, tears coming to her eyes.

He drew his sword of flames and held it up as to make a move, only his hands could not.

Isithdrae stared at him, instead of judgement or fear. For once in a long time, he found love in her eyes.

The sword fell from his hands, the fire dying out and he stepped back, he couldn't handle the love he felt for Isithdrae.

Though the next thing he felt may have warmed his heart, within seconds of him stepping back her arms were wrapped around him. He found his own to follow after hers.

He would hold her tight for the rest of his days.