Lotr Half-elf Novels & Stories

After Charlotte and Morgan left, I picked up the supply tribes that Charlotte and I had brought with us. Although Elwin was the half-elf tribe's leader, half-elves were placed lowest in the elven hierarchy and lived in border forests. In our previous life, I'd only found out about this after half a year of living here. The tribe's treehouses were sparse, and some of them seemed to be leaking. Elwin led me to a treehouse situated closest to a mountain spring, which also happened to be the largest one in the tribe.

I ask. “To be honest I found nothing. They do have elf blood in them but that is all the blood we could match. None of the other DNA is on our database.” The doctor explains. “It wouldn’t be nor would it be in anyone’s database. Well beside Marcus and Jason’s..” A woman says. Standing beside Fhalleyn is a beautiful woman. From the look of it, she might even be an elf. “Name is Lillyana and I am half-elf.” Lillyana says.

“Don’t overthink. It’s not good for your health.” “I knew we raised an understanding and lovable son.” Eleand smiled. In the next few days, Eleand spent most of his time researching his origin. Although he was certain about his humanity, however, a part of him might be a faerie with regards to his strong magic attribute. Probably a half-breed, a Demifae—half-human and half-faerie.

He looked mesmerizing with green eyes like he wasn’t without them. “How-“ “The color of your eyes changes when you’re determined,” Kyle explained placing the black lenses on his mirror table, “New installation to the half-blood characteristics, I guess” “Wow” I gaped at him. He strode towards me with a smirk playing on his lips and leaned down to my level. “Take a picture” he whispered while I stared into his sparkling green eyes, “It’ll last longer” I huffed out air scoffing, “Your charms don’t work on me, plantsman”

The wolves at the edge of the forest vanished as quickly as they'd come, melting into the shadows like mist at dawn. But their words lingered in the cold air, settling into my chest like something that would never leave. *The half-blood has passed the first test. Now let's see if she can pass the second.*

They are rarely put down even if they are bad. Like all species we have bonded halves, it doesn’t really matter and many of us have been bonded to humans over the years. My mother was half-human and that makes me a halfling. Basically we are all halflings as our ancestors were also bonded with other species. We weren’t prejudiced when it came to a bonded half because your other half makes you better.

I asked. "Oh, you poor, ignorant puppies." The vampire started walking toward us, completely unafraid. "Did you really think werewolves were the only monsters hiding in the shadows?" Before I could answer, something dropped from the ceiling behind us. I spun around to find a woman with impossible green eyes and pointed ears. When she moved, it was too fast and too smooth to be human. "Elf," Marcus whispered. "Half-elf," she amended. "And you're trespassing on neutral ground."

That's right: I'm half-elven. Yes, I know. In all the best sagas, valiant human warriors win the love of beautiful elven maids, and sire the most attractive children - the half-elven. Well, my dad was an elven adventurer who stopped in Black only long enough to have a couple of drinks and get my mother pregnant. I don't know if she was a prostitute, a courtesan, a barmaid ... but she did know the location of the orphanage, because she promptly delivered me there the moment I was born. The back steps, too; not even the front door.

"Agafya, are you done?" "I’m about to find out. Wish me luck" Without even caring anymore, I gulped down a few drops of my potion. "I will wait for you at the dining hall." The girl running out of the room not caring enough to stay and see if I die is Lada. I would like to say she is my sister, from looks alone we could even pass as twin sisters. Like every elf, we are identical except for our eye color, mine are greyish green and hers dark blue, and her hair being of a slightly silvery tone.

I, Anno, clutched a bag of deer meat damp with dew as I walked along the streets of the elven town, the burning pain from the wolf’s claws still lingering on my right cheek from last night. Whispers followed me all the way. “It’s her—that defective elf with a broken wing, and she’s even keeping a tamed werewolf.” “It’s laughable. That werewolf doesn’t even look at her. He’s always trying to run away, but she still treats him like a precious treasure.”