Okay, here is the fanfict I promised, (or really asked if I could create), about my main char, Turwaithiel, and her life. Here is chapter one; comments and suggestions and such are welcomed!

Chapter one-The Beginning
The year was 3262, and it was the second age. The Elves of Númenor numbers were slowly growing less and less, under the reign of Ar-Pharazon, who later became known as the last King of Númenor. Ar-Pharazon had sailed to the far off land known as Middle-Earth, with some of his most trusted Elven warriors, commanders and leaders. His top commander, Tegalad, decided to accompany him, even though he had two young children, that were born only 35 years before, and to Elves, that was a short time. His children, who were twins, were named Turwaithiel and Veryangole, and it was a great regret to leave them parentless at such a young age. (During childbirth, the twin’s mother and Tegalad’s wife, Ithilwen, died after the twins were born. It was a strange death indeed, and a sorrowful one at that.) But, with much persuasion by the King, Tegalad left his children in the care of his good friend, Elendil. So, King Ar-Pharazon, along with Tegalad and another fleet of Elves, took a ship, and sailed uncross the seas to Middle-Earth. This is where our story will begin, back in Númenor, were the twins and Elendil’s own children await the return of there King.

Turwaithiel, a young she-elf whose beauty was already showing, sat down in a courtyard in the grass; her knees bent back so no one could she up her long Elven style dress. She held a small book of brown leather binding in her hand, with Elvish writing scribbled on it. Turwaithiel’s head was bent down to read, and her long brown hair that usually lay flat down past her shoulders fell down over her right shoulder and hung loosely there; yet she was unbothered by it as her unusual silver eyes scanned the pages quickly. The dress that sure wore was nothing elegant or royal, but of simple hues of green with silver lining, the cuffs of her arms growing wider as it went down her arm. Yet, with Turwaithiel’s fair Elvish skin, which was radiant like the moon and her lovely, smiling face, many men would have thought her a goddess. Though, Turwaithiel herself thought she was nothing special, for all elvish maidens’s looked this way, from the youngest girl to the oldest of women. Age was non-existent to the appearance of the Elves, a race of beauty, power, and immortality. Sadly, this race was about to be corrupted, or at least, the Númenórean Elves were, but this still was unknown, and when it would be, it would be too late.
Meanwhile, Turwaithiel’s brother and twin, Veryangole, was only a couple paces off from were Turwaithiel was sitting, yet he did not do the relaxing pastime that his sister did now, but he instead sparred one of Elendil’s two sons, Isildur. Both young men had been training with all the weapons they could find, ranging from swords, to throwing daggers, to spears, and Veryangole had recently taught Isildur how to use a bow and arrow; so both were equally matched in this playful practice duel…and both had unique qualities which would have given them an edge or an upper hand on any other opponents, but there own personal skills were opposites of one another’s, making them equal out. Isildur was largely built and strong, not to mention a Human, so he was very good at making hard blows that could knock an opponent to the ground, while Veryangole was an Elf, and being an Elf gave him the natural abilities of having swift feet and great hand-eye coordination, which helped him dodge Isildur’s hard blows and make a quick swing with his sword. So, all in all, if you never saw a duel in your life, that one would be a good one to start.
And whenever those two indeed dueled, they did draw a crowd of on-lookers; but for two different reasons. One of them, of course, was both young men’s natural talent and their playful and youthful attitudes. Yet the other was the reason most of the young maidens came to watch; both boys were exceptionally handsome. Isildur had fine brown hair that needed to be cut, in some people’s opinions, but he himself liked the shaggy hair. He also had dark blue eyes and his skin was tan and dark compared to the skin of the Elves and muscular from many days out in the sun and working out well doing labor for his father and his king. Again, Veryangole was the complete opposite of Isildur, his hair long like his sisters, going down past his shoulders already, and a light blond in color. Veryangole’s eyes were a light blue and his skin was like his race, radiant and fair, yet he was also slightly muscular, in his own Elven fashion. Even though both young men were very handsome, there was no crowd today, and both men were glad of it. Another fact that was also widely known was that both were surprisingly single, and sadly, to the young maidens of the land, they didn’t mingle with women much, with the exception of Turwaithiel, whom both boys agreed wasn’t much of a women at all.
Turwaithiel had trained with them in all the weapons they had when she was younger, against her father’s wishes, and many of the eyes and minds of other Númenor women. Not only did she train with them, but she had also gotten quite good, and might, in a few more years of practice, be able to match either one of them in skill…or even beat. Turwaithiel now looked up from her reading and found herself watching them spar, and she knew that is what she always wanted to do; she wanted to become a warrior like her brother and there best friend. When she was younger, she got away with it. But now that she had grown older…he father wouldn’t allow it. He told her that he would not have his only daughter and living memory of her mother die on the battlefields…or even face the horror that beheld out there. She had tried using the argument that he was letting his only son go and fight when he became of age, but that didn’t phase her father nor get him to change him mind. Veryangole even tried to help her cause, but their father also silenced him. So, when she learned he was leaving for distance lands, she thought she mind be able to sneak in a duel or two, but even when he father was light years away, he had gotten a few older women to watch her and make sure she didn’t do anything he didn’t want her too, or he would find out.
Turwaithiel sighed heavily, shutting her book softly and standing up, stretching her legs. As she did, two things happened. Her brother had finally pinned Isildur and would have cut off his head if he was a real enemy, but as he was about to tell Isildur playfully to surrender or die, a loud, sharp horn could be heard in the distance, coming from the Eastern Shores. Turwaithiel’s head jerked around and then she looked over at her brother and Isildur excitedly as she exclaimed,
“Ada!” She said excitedly. She was still excited about seeing her father after the many years he had gone to sea, even though there last meeting wasn’t exactly pleasant. Veryangole offered Isildur a hand up and they both walked over to Turwaithiel, grinned.
“It will be good to see him again.” Veryangole said. “It has indeed been long.” Isildur nodded as he added, his voice gruff compared to Veryangole’s sweet tone.
“I myself am looking forward to seeing whatever they brought from Middle-Earth, whether it be artifacts or strange tales.” Turwaithiel grinned and nodded, agreeing with him. She loved hearing the tales of the Valar and the Noldar and her ancestors, but a new tale would be good. She looked at both boys, her eyes twinkling, and she asked,
“Shall we go off and greet them, then?” Both boys nodded eagerly and the three went off, going to the tree where they had left their horses. Turwaithiel mounted a black mare named Midnight, which was her brothers, whom mounted first. She had to share his horse for hers at the moment was lame and she didn’t have an extra horse to ride. Isildur mounted a spotted steed named Moonlight, and together they all headed off towards the Eastern Shore, as many of the other Elves did now. After a few moments of hard riding, the group spotted another steed just in front of them with another human rider, who was unmistakably Isildur’s younger brother, Anarion. Anarion was a dark haired young boy who was quite handsome himself, but completely different than his brother, with short cut hair and light skin. When the group’s horses caught up to Anarion’s, Isildur called,
“What hurries you, little brother?” Anarion’s head twisted to look over at the group in surprise, but then he grinned and replied,
“As if you knew not, my kin!” He said happily and added, “Come, I will race you!” And then, with a sudden burst of speed, Anarion’s steed took off, going down the hilly plain. Isildur looked back at the two Elves, grinned and then, kicking his own steed lightly in the sides, took off after his brother. Turwaithiel looked up after them and said in her brother’s ear,
“Are we not going to join them, my brother?” Veryangole looked back at Turwaithiel and said,
“Can you handle it, Turwaithiel?” He asked her and Turwaithiel raised her eyebrow and Veryangole grinned, and then finally, there own horse took off after the two brothers, all four youth racing down to the shore front. The group reached the Eastern shore quickly; Isildur came in first, followed by Turwaithiel and Veryangole, and lastly Anarion. When they finally stopped and reached the shoreline, there already was a large crowd gathering for the return of their King and the rest of the crew. Unmounting, the group of friends pushed and creped through the crowd until they came up to the front of the crowd, and they eagerly awaited the King and his men to come ashore, as the ship came into the harbor.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

I will begin first by saying that I enjoy your raw writing style. Sentence structure and general flow are decent. You have a nice grasp of formal/elvish/fantasy/ish dialogue. A few things I suggest:

1. A more gripping first paragraph. I suppose you could keep the entire thing with the dates in, but suppose you had a better sentence than "Turwaithiel sat on the grass." A rule of thumb is to land your readers in the middle of a random thought/dialogue/action and gradually draw them in.
2. Cutting up the description of characters and scatter it around. Like instead of using attribution words like "Turwaithiel was beautiful," you can let the readers decide for themselves through hair color, eye color, other characters' reactions, the way she carries herself, etc. If your characterization's strong enough, readers will get the right impression. Know when to stop with the description because an excess tends to bore readers. Try "Turwaithiel stood up, letting fall the folds of her silver-trimmed green dress."
3. Back to the entire gripping your readers thing. In today's busy world, you have the first few paragraphs (and the first page, if you're lucky) to make your readers interested in your character/plot. I get the impression that Tur's a tomboy. Drop her in the middle of a battle to SHOW that she's a tomboy, not merely say that she's not like other women.

It can be generally agreed upon that the less adjectives (attribution) you use to describe your characters, the better. Instead of telling us what a character's like, show us through dialogue, actions, and situations that complement his/her personality. If your characterization's strong enough, the readers will decide for themselves the character's personality without you having to describe it.

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Thanks for your advice, LDM! Well, at the beginning of my writing "career", if you will, I didn't describe at all, and I found my writing, looking back at it, really dull. So now, I'm trying to get more details, but I also see what you are saying...:nod: Thanks for that. I really get tip two...I never thought of it that way. Thanks again...school is about to start, so my writing time will definately go down, but I will try and find time to use your advice and fix some stuff. I already got some ideas! Thanks again, mate!

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

mm yes, I agree with LDM's 'show - don't tell'. Definitely one of the cardinal rules of writing.

I appreciate the very first paragraph, as it gives a much-needed timeframe. Maybe you could italicize it, or have it be part of something she is reading.

Otherwise, it looks like you have a start with a lot of potential! It does move a little slowly - dropping the reader in the middle of an action sequence is a good 'hook', practiced by the best in the business. A reader is more likely to read on if something exciting is happening. Or, as 'Pride and Prejudice' does, you could start off with a shocking or sarcastic opening sentence with some snappy dialogue.

Keep writing!

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

I really liked it, Tur! My favorite line was the "Can you handle it?" part... perfect for a challenge.

LDM has some good advice - pay heed to it. You'll get even better over time, you'll see! I've been writing for two years and looking back at my early stuff I can see a whole bunch that needs improving. You'll be wonderful, you'll see.