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Chapter Text

She dances under the stars at twilight, nimble-footed with her hair flying behind her as the rest of her team slumbers. The silver bows in her ivory quiver remain strapped to her back as she moves, feet rustling through the grass shoots underneath.

The Eldar rise with starlight glistening over them and pouring blessed life into their immortal souls. It is their sun, their spirit, their symbol of joy.

She relishes the night like her companions treasure the dawn.

Her legs cease their movement when she hears the crack of a twig in the background. She whips out her bow a split second later and fires the arrow into the trees. It is caught, by a gloved hand.

"Tenten," the white-haired ranger coughs awkwardly, "it's me."

Retracting her weapons and retrieving the stray arrow from the man, she lets out a slight laugh. And then he keeps talking.

"We're detouring into Rivendell." Kakashi watches her initial shock melt down into apathy. "I've received a message from Lord Hiashi requesting aid."

Her jaw tightens marginally. "We're running out of time as it is. Gaara-"

"Gaara will receive medical attention as soon as we arrive. I've made sure of that." He sighs. "I'm afraid this is a matter we can't avoid any longer."

Her arrow is inserted back into the quiver as she gives him a quick nod. "Then we will do as he commands."

Kakashi leads the way back to the clearing of their campsite, careful not to rouse the hobbits sleeping around the extinguished fire. She wordlessly settles down beside Temari, who's still awake and tending to her younger brother with a frown knotting her forehead.

"His fever has gone down, but not by much." The female hobbit tiredly wipes her dust-ridden forehead with her sleeves. The dirt smudges where sweat is pooling at her sandy-blonde bangs. "If only Uncle Baki had never shown him The Ring."

Tenten places a hand on Temari's shoulder comfortingly, unsure of how to address the Ring at hand. "We've set a course for Rivendell. He'll be treated by the High Elves in a matter of hours."

The hobbit's head bobs up, revealing fatigued, red-rimmed eyes that are shining with renewed interest. "What's Rivendell?"

"An elven realm," Tenten reaches for Temari's sword (a knife, at best, to Tenten, but a sword in the hands of her hobbit friends), "One ruled by the Hyuga family for centuries, now. They're reputed to be highly civilised and sophisticated." She examines the small blade, careful not to cut herself on it's sharp edge. "They may be able to identify the name of your sword, if you wish it."

"Name?" The woman looks confused. "Oh. I didn't know weapons had names."

"They do," Tenten nods, "They all do."

Kakashi's uncovered eye closes. They lapse into silence until Temari covers herself with a blanket and looks up at Tenten again.

"Are you from Rivendell?"

"No."

"Then," her voice becomes croaky, Tenten closes her eyes and senses the burning curiousity pulling at Temari's lips. The next question is expected. "Where?"

"Mirkwood." The name brings a downward tug to the corner of her lips. There had been a time, millennia ago, when she was able to call her home Greenwood. But now...

She fears the destruction that the return of a Dark Age will bring to Middle Earth, the ruin that will once again be unleashed upon her Silvan kin should they not accomplish their task. The fate of the world's existence lies in the hands of three little hobbit siblings, one of whom - the one most resistant to The Ring - is lying pale-faced and on the brink of death. Tenten exhales. "Sleep, Temari. You'll need the energy for when we leave in a few hours."

And when the sun breaks free from the horizon line, she feels the starlight fading away until she is cold and hardened once more.

They emerge from the forest on horseback, with Kakashi at the front to lead the way, and Tenten at the back of the trail with Gaara slumped against her chest, breathing heavily. A thunderous pace is maintained, even though the wind nips at the sickly hobbit's cheeks and makes him groan nauseatingly. If they do not arrive at Rivendell soon, any chances of Gaara's survival will be severely diminished.

Kakashi's black mare suddenly comes to a halt in front of a large clump of boulders. Tenten pulls on her horse's reins, careful not to jostle the hobbit around excessively as she trots over to him.

"Is this...?"

"Yes," he takes a step back. The elusive entrance to Rivendell. Kakashi jumps off his horse and pats his way around the rocks carefully. He finds the passageway minutes later, a slim opening just large enough to fit a full-sized male.

Tenten jumps off her horse, carries Gaara over to his siblings, then unloads her saddle and belongings before beseeching the other hobbits to do the same. "Set them all free," she commands, leaning Gaara against her side, "These horses are clever; they'll know where to go."

Kakashi nods and murmurs into his mare's ear. It bristles, then whinnies to the other horses and charges off. He meets her eye when she hobbles over to him.

"Lord Hiashi will be receiving us kindly, but..."

"I know," she gripes tersely, "I'll be on my best behaviour."

Temari and Kankurou join them, eyeing the opening hesitantly. "What is this, exactly?"

"You'll see," Kakashi replies enigmatically. He eases himself into the hole and gestures for the rest of them to follow through. Tenten waits for the last of Temari's hair buns to disappear before prodding Gaara through the entrance and lifting him into her arms when she walks in. The hobbit turns his head and coughs towards the ground.

Then there's complete darkness, saved only by the gentle footfalls of her travelling companions and the occasional reassurances from their leader.

She spots the light at the end of the tunnel and lets it's warm glow illuminate her entire being. Her breaths grow faster when she hears the subtle echoes of a waterfall filter into the cave, and the soothing melody of her kin's music waft through the air.

Rivendell arrives soon enough, allowing all five members of their troupe to blink rapidly and adjust their eyes to the blinding sunlight. They're greeted by picturesque cliff faces and elegant wooden structures crafted by elven hands. The village is a breathtaking sight for sore eyes.

Lord Hiashi is standing a little way ahead of them, underneath an archway, and beside him are three other elves with identically pale, lilac irises.

"Welcome, Ranger," he announces grandly, gaze falling upon the rest of them, "And friends. No doubt your journey has stiffened your limbs immeasurably."

They all bow respectfully. Kakashi speaks. "Thank you, Lord Hyuga. We came as soon as we received your message."

"Ah, yes." Hiashi notes the sweating Gaara and signals for two of his healers to gently pry him away from Tenten's arms. She smiles at the pink-haired elf with apple-green eyes, and then notices Hiashi staring at her.

"Which realm do you hail from?" He asks, not unkindly.

"The northern woods, sire. King Thranduil sent me in his son's stead."

"Splendid," Hiashi responds diplomatically. "Allow me to introduce to you my daughters, Hinata and Hanabi," the two women curtsy gracefully, sleek black hair shimmering under the sunlight. She's heard legends about the eldest one, that no other elven woman is fairer, nor more akin to the moonlight than Hinata Hyuga. Tenten suspects that any lesser being would have crumbled under the sheer majesty of her delicate beauty - no doubt Lord Hiashi is struggling to find a suitable husband for his daughter.

"The legends do them no justice," Kakashi comments with a smile.

Hiashi inclines his chin slightly, "And my nephew, Neji - a fine, young warrior. He will be joining you on your journey soon."

Tenten watches Neji dip his head and catch her gaze with little more than a flicker of curiosity. He is undeniably handsome, with his ephemeral skin the colour of starlight and his cheekbones a graceful arch beneath his eyes. Neji is silent, almost broodingly so, but the upward tilt of his chin speaks volumes about his arrogance.

All elven folk possess a degree of self-importance, undeniably so. Tenten doesn't deny the fact that even she can be conceited - after all, her impeccable aim has been rivalled by none so far, as is her weapons arsenal - but she is well-versed enough in the ways of the world to know that subtlety is the key to a warrior's success. Any hints of over confidence will be a fatal flaw on any battlefield, regardless of one's renowned skills.

Nonetheless, Tenten bites her tongue and follows the Hyuga family into Rivendell. It would not do to speak her mind as she normally does, lest her kin look to the Mirkwood folk more unfavourably than usual.

Elves are prideful, above all else.

Chapter Text

She decides to make a short appearance at Lord Hiashi's welcoming feast for the sake of being polite. Kakashi is already present beside Lord Hiashi's table by the time she walks in, fresh from a lavender-scented bath and dressed in a set of deep green robes. The ranger catches her eye and beckons for her to sit amongst them.

Them, being him, Lord Hiashi and his three relatives.

Tenten strides to the ornate table in four steps, bows deeply to Lord Hiashi, and sits down beside her friend.

"A pleasure to see you here, Tenten," Lord Hiashi greets her. "Your halfling friend is well. Tired and weak, but he is resting and well."

She dips her chin gratefully, feeling her long hair - loose, for the first time in years - fall over her shoulders. "You have my eternal gratitude, Lord Hiashi."

There are several more polite exchanges, and then the food is brought out. On her other side, she feels Neji leaning over in his seat. Her head turns towards him when he leans down.

"Eternity is no small word for an elf."

She is aware. "I choose my words wisely, Lord Neji. My debt to your uncle is eternal."

He leans back, silvery eyes glinting at her curiously. "For a mere halfling's life?"

Tenten shakes her head gently and holds his gaze. "For far more than a hobbit, my Lord."

Neji frowns. "What do you mean?"

"It means," she lifts her sleeve and reveals the tip of a deep, white scar that runs along the length of her right arm. His eyes widen - elves never bleed, much less possess scars. "The unspeakable are rising."

A few more dishes are brought out to the table. Lord Hiashi waves his hand, signalling for the music to begin. Under ordinary circumstances, Tenten would allow herself to lean back and revel in Elven song, but tonight a pink-haired elf walking away from a table from the other side of the room catches her attention. Tenten then remembers her earlier intention, to leave early and check on her hobbit friends, so she rises from her seat.

"My Lords, my Ladies," she gives a respectful nod to her hosts, "If I may request an early leave. I'm afraid the journey has fatigued me."

"Granted," Hiashi, still deep in conversation with Kakashi, waves a hand dismissively. She immediately swivels around and rushes to the pink-haired elf.

Tenten manages to catch up with the female elf just outside of the feast-room. Recognition flickers in her eyes when Tenten greets her. "You are Tenten, the ranger's friend."

"Yes," she nods, "I was wondering-"

"The halflings are resting in the east wing, close to your quarters," she interrupts her, not unkindly. "They're an interesting folk, aren't they? Lively, and brash, but kind."

Tenten agrees. They'd been shocking at first, then amusing, and after a month, loveable. She isn't reputed for being warm to people who cannot fight, and they are the rare exception. "They're jolly," she smiles back.

"My name is Sakura." Cherry blossom. A name befitting the colour of her hair. "I've heard about your adventures in the north, Tenten. H-Have you come across many men in your journeys?"

A spike of curiosity ran through her mind when a blush tinged the tips of Sakura's cheekbones. "The Kingdom of Men lie in the south," she corrects her, "But I have met many, yes."

"Then are you familiar with one by the name of Uchiha?"

The ranger Uchiha? Not many pass by Rivendell - with the exception of Kakashi, who had been raised by elves - and especially not men from Gondor. Tenten wonders how Sakura came to know the Uchiha name, particularly when they were renowned for being cruel and distant to those not-human.

"We have crossed paths before," she replies vaguely, then elaborates when Sakura looks crestfallen at her answer, "In Gondor. He is not a friendly man, by any means."

"That sounds like him," she says, almost fondly.

Not for the first time, Tenten finds herself growing suspicious of the familiarity. When had they met? Rivendell elves never ventured outside of their geographical boundaries, and even then healers like Sakura were rarely ever authorised to leave. She figures that she is better off not prying, given that she's a welcome guest as long as she doesn't insult Lord Hiashi's authority. The affairs of his elves are his to deal with, so she ignores her suspicions and politely asks Sakura to direct her to the hobbits.

"I will guide you," another voice interrupts the directions Sakura had started to dole out. They both turn towards the speaker and bow.

"Lord Neji," Tenten immediately addresses him, confused, "I'd assumed that you would be feasting with the others."

Sakura leaves when Neji waves a hand in dismissal.

"Tonight I wish to rest among the stars," he glances up at the sky for emphasis and turns his attention back to her, "Come." Tenten spends another second looking at his retreating back. She's certain that Neji has tasks much more worthy of his time than guiding a visitor to her friends' resting chambers, and he doesn't seem like the type of elf to trouble himself with the woes of other species either. If the confusion shows on her face, he notices it when he realises she isn't following him and tilts his head around to look at her. "By custom, we treat our guests with the same courtesy that we treat the High Elves, and here you are a guest, Lady Tenten."

His face seems pained to have had to explain the reasoning behind his actions, so she bows politely and catches up to him.

"Imladris has changed considerably since I had last visited," Tenten begins conversationally. Neji glances at her, light eyes glistening curiously.

"Things have been this way for centuries now," he pauses to let her walk onto a bridge first. Tenten dips her head and marvels at the moonlight reflecting off the water. Behind her, Neji continues speaking, "How old are you?"

"Quite," she responds, smiling lightly at his expression. "I have seen many Ages pass, Lord Neji." They reach the end of the bridge. She recognises the lake that she'd passed on her way to the feast and surmises that they have reached the east wing.

"Then you are far wiser than I, my Lady," Neji matches her stride when they disembark from the bridge, allowing his long hair to flow behind him freely. Tenten shakes her head.

"I am older, but I have ventured outside of my home very few times. Ennor is still a strange land to me."

"Then I am sure you will be seeing more of it sooner," he stops in front of a door and gives her a knowing look, "We have reached your hobbit friends. This is where our paths will diverge - have a good night."

Tenten enters the room and sees Kankurou sitting on Gaara's left and Temari on the right. All three hobbits look considerably less haggard than when they'd first arrived; to Tenten's relief, colour has re-entered and revived Gaara's ghostly-pale face.

"Tenten!" Temari's eyes light up. The female hobbit has seen better, more nutritious days when the Shire had granted them the comforts of home, but still - Tenten spots the empty platters lying in a pile on the floor and she is pleased that they have at least regained their infamous hobbit appetite. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she replies graciously, "How is Gaara?"

"Better," Gaara responds, voice still slightly hoarse. His light green eyes are roaming over the room appreciatively. "This is a beautiful place."

"He's been marvelling at the architecture since he'd woken up earlier," Kankurou explains, when Tenten looks mildly confused, "Always the strange little hobbit. It is beautiful, but a bit cold, I would say."

"Too big," Temari agrees vehemently.

Tenten smiles at them and sits down in a chair. "Indeed. I've always favoured smaller homes myself."

"What's it like?" Gaara joins in, eyes regaining their typical sharp focus. "Your home."

She immediately pictures cavernous hallways, open-aired spaces for dining and dancing beneath the starlight, rooms embedded into rock-faces and dotting the underground with bright, white light. A sudden wave of homesickness hits her. Tenten desperately wants to return home, to where her people are, but knows that home is far away in both distance and time. She will not see it until her assigned task is finished. "It is closed," she says after a beat of silence, "And intricate."

As always, they look disappointed with her vague answers. She bites back her amusement. "It is late. Gaara will be tended to during the night, and I suggest that you all rest well for tomorrow - it will be a long day."

"What's happening tomorrow?" Kankurou asks.

"There will be a meeting with Lord Hiashi's Council. I will also be there, as will you."

"For what?" She sees Gaara clutch at something beneath his shirt and looks at him knowingly.

"The Ring."