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Chapter Text

Emma Robinson looked around the club and shook her head. It was loud, crowded, and hot. How had she ever let her friends convince her to come here? She sighed a bit as she stared down at the drink Erica had plopped down in front of her a few moments ago. She supposed it was a law written somewhere in the cosmos that friends must get each other plastered when one of them is celebrating their twenty-first birthday, which Emma was. Resigned to this fact, she picked up the glass, took a large sip, nearly spit it out, swallowed, and began coughing violently.

“Here, try this,” Kaylie offered handing over a bottle of something that smelled rather fruity. “I should have warned you that Erica likes the hard stuff.”

Emma smiled at her friend. Of all the people in their group, Kaylie was the one that understood her the most. She didn’t mind that Emma was quiet since she was quiet, too. Whereas Erica and Riley were the outgoing extroverts of their group, and even the triplets could get a bit wild sometimes. Grayson, Adrien and their respective sisters were more moderate most of the time, but they naturally loosened up once the alcohol invaded their systems. Deciding that she might as well enjoy herself, she took a small sip of the new drink and nodded. “Yeah, this is much better.”

Once she had finished half the bottle, Riley and Erica appeared at their table. “Come on, Em! It’s your birthday! You have to come dance with us,” Riley exclaimed loudly to be heard over the music as she grabbed the slightly shorter woman’s arm and hauled her to her feet.

“Are Adrien and Grayson still around,” Emma asked a bit nervously. She was no braver at twenty-one today than she had been at twenty yesterday.

“Yep,” Erica assured her with a nod. “They promised to keep all the creepos away from you,” she stated as she grabbed Emma’s other arm and escorted her to the dance floor with Riley.

“Hey, here’s the birthday girl,” Adrien greeted her as he grabbed her hand and twirled her around completely out of time with the music that was blaring over the speakers. “We were wondering if you were going to join us.”

“I was just enjoying a drink,” Emma replied with a grin as Grayson took his turn spinning her about, much to her amusement. Over the two years she had known them, she’d had a crush on both men, but now they were more like brothers.

“Happy birthday, Emma,” Grayson congratulated her with a warm smile before dramatically dipping her while the other girls all squealed.

“Happy birthday, Em,” the triplets, Camilla, Caitlyn, and Christin all chorused together before giggling and turning their attention back to the music.

“Thanks, everyone,” Emma replied with a smile for her friends. As the alcohol began to hit her system, she threw caution to the wind and joined in the dancing.

Chapter Text

Several drinks and a few hours later, the twelve friends stumbled their way out of the club and toppled over one another into the limo that was waiting for them. “Thanks, Jeffrey,” Emma slurred as she tripped getting into the car.

“Watch it,” Adrien cautioned as he caught her with an arm around her waist and helped her in. “Thank you for giving us a lift back to the Robinsons’,” he said to the driver, whom he had called with Emma’s phone half an hour ago as he was the most sober of the lot.

“Of course, sir,” the driver replied with a tired sigh as he heard hysterical giggling emerge from his car.

Adrien gave the man an apologetic smile before climbing in after the others. After making sure all the other passengers were as stable as they were going to get, he gave the signal, and they drove off.

The Robinson home was a mansion located half an hour outside the city center in the best residential neighborhood money could buy. Emma’s father was a successful politician, and her mother ran several non-profit organizations. Despite the fact that it was Emma’s birthday, the house was completely dark when they arrived.

“Hey, Em, are your parents home,” Adrien asked as the group began to stumble their way into the sprawling house.

“Nope,” Emma answered in a chipper voice as she leaned heavily on Kaylie. “They had some high-class function to go to for my brother’s law firm or something like that.”

Adrien shook his head at her answer. Emma’s eldest brother had graduated from Harvard Law School and now had his own successful firm. Her second brother was a heart surgeon at the best hospital in the city, and her third brother had just graduated with his master’s degree in nuclear engineering. With three siblings like that, it wasn’t hard to believe that Emma, with her average grades and unspectacular extracurricular activities, was rather overlooked by her family.

“We should camp out in the basement,” Emma declared as she wobbled towards the door that led downstairs. “Bring all the pillows and blankets you can find!”

“We can make a blanket fort,” Elise agreed excitedly. “We haven’t done that in years,” she declared as she tugged on her twin’s arm.

“Of course, we haven’t,” Grayson replied as he tried to keep his sister from ripping his arm out of the socket.

“And we can watch movies,” Riley added as she remembered that Emma had a huge television in the basement.

“Lord of the Rings,” Caitlyn immediately suggested with a huge grin as everyone agreed.

“We’ll never get through all of them,” Adrien tried to reason as the women surrounding him began to grab blankets out of closets and chests and carry them down the stairs.

“Don’t bother,” Grayson told him as he clapped the other man on the shoulder.

“We need more booze,” Erica shouted up the stairs, and the two men sighed before heading off to raid the Robinsons’ kitchen.

Two hours into the special extended edition of The Two Towers – Emma had insisted that they watch that one first because of all the pretty horses, and it was her birthday after all – all twelve friends were completely passed out on the various furniture, one another, and the floor. With the movie still playing and the door to the basement fully shut, none of them heard the sound of breaking glass above them.

Chapter Text

Christin woke with a cough and groaned. Out of the triplets, she had always had all the allergy problems. Her head was splitting, and she didn’t want to be awake. She rolled over and buried her face into the pillow she was using, but as she continued to cough, she finally gave up on getting back to sleep and sat up instead.

As Christin finally came to her senses, she looked around her in the dim light provided by the cracked door to the bathroom, where someone had clearly left the light on, to see her friends sprawled out nearby. Adrien was lying on the floor several feet away, the largest of the blankets still unable to cover his massive 6’5” frame. Her two sisters were on the couch behind her curled up together. Erica and Riley were sleeping on either end of the other couch. Grayson had fallen asleep with Elise in the huge recliner. Adrien’s sisters Ashlan and Alexis were asleep on a mattress they’d dragged from the guest room, and Emma and Kaylie were sprawled out atop the large pile of pillows nearest the television.

Christin put a hand to her head as it continued to pound and reached for the aspirin and one of several bottles of water that had been left on the side table by a kind soul, probably Adrien, since he could hold his alcohol much better than the rest of them. She quickly downed a couple of pills and half the bottle of water. She frowned as she started to cough again.

“Ugh,” she groaned aloud as she finally stood and stretched. Then she noticed that she could smell something burning. Had someone burned popcorn or something after she’d passed out? She grabbed her phone and turned on the flashlight function before heading for the stairs to check it out.

Once she reached the top of the stairs, which took way more effort than it should have, Christin grabbed the doorknob to open the door and immediately jerked her hand back, nearly falling backwards down the stairs. The doorknob was hot. Why the heck was the doorknob hot? It was then that she could hear the faint beeping coming from the other side of the door. With growing trepidation, she wrapped her hand up in the sleeve of the hoodie she was wearing and slowly cracked the door open, only to be met with a wall of heat.

Christin slammed the door shut as smoke began to pour into the room just from the small crack she’d opened, and, coughing, she half ran half tripped down the stairs back to her friends. “Everyone, wake up! Wake up,” she screamed as she ran to the nearest people, Ashlan and Alexis, and began to shake them. “The house is on fire,” she yelled.

Adrien sat up from his spot on the floor as Ashlan and Alexis both groaned and began rubbing their eyes. “What are you screaming about, Christin,” the man asked as he ran a hand through his hair.

“The house is on fire,” the triplet repeated in a panic as she ran over to Elise and Grayson and began to shake them awake. “We have to get out of here!”

Adrien leapt to his feet and sprinted up the stairs as Christin moved to her sisters. She started coughing again when smoke poured into the room once more, evidencing that Adrien had opened the basement door. “Come on, Cait! Cami! Wake up!”

“What’s going on, Adrien,” Ashlan asked still partially asleep as she sat up next to her sister.

Adrien had already made his way back down the stairs and shook his head. “The house is on fire. We have to get out of here,” he answered seriously before going to wake Emma and Kaylie while Christin went to Erica and Riley. “Emma! Emma,” he said loudly as he shook the younger woman. “Your house is on fire.”

“What,” Emma asked obviously confused as she tried to sit up and groaned. “Oh, my head,” she complained as she put her hands on either side of her face.

“We’ll take care of your hangover later,” Christin assured her as she helped Erica to her feet. “First, we need to know how to get out of here.”

“Is there an outside entrance down here somewhere or a window,” Adrien asked urgently.

Emma shook her head and groaned at the movement. “No, the only way down here is through the door inside the house.”

Adrien let out several explicatives. “What is the easiest and fastest way for us to get out of the house then?”

“Through the kitchen,” Emma answered after a second of thought. “It’s just one turn and then straight through the French doors.”

“How are we going to get to the kitchen, though,” Christin asked as she wrapped an arm around each of her sisters. “The fire is already just outside the door,” she added before she began coughing again, and this time she wasn’t the only one.

“Em, is there a fire extinguisher down here,” Kaylie questioned now that she was fully awake, but Emma shook her head again.

“The nearest one is in the kitchen,” her friend answered as the panic began to mount.

“We can soak the blankets in the bathroom,” Grayson suggested after a moment of heavy silence. “Then we cover ourselves as much as possible and run for it.”

Christin and the others all nodded their agreement. It seemed like the best plan they had, and there was no time to come up with a better one. She quickly went to work with the others trying to soak the first blankets in the bathtub of the guest bathroom. By the time that they had the first one ready, the basement had begun to fill with smoke, and flames had begun creeping around the doorframe and through the ceiling.

Christin found it harder and harder to breathe. She was coughing constantly now as were her friends and sisters. The color started to fade from her vision as she turned to hand off the second blanket to Alexis. Then, the world tilted strangely, and everything went black.

Chapter Text

Elise opened her eyes with a groan. Everything hurt, and she made a silent promise to herself never to drink so much again. She cracked her eyes open, expecting to see the white ceiling of Emma’s basement, but instead, she saw sunshine filtering through the leaves of several trees. She blinked several times and when the trees remained, she sat up in one swift movement.

As Elise looked around her, she realized that she was in a clearing of some kind. All around her, her brother and friends began to stir. “Grayson,” she tried to get out through her throat, which was quickly constricting in panic.

“Elise,” her brother responded as he sat up next to her. “What happened? Where are we,” he asked as he looked around at the clearing.

“That’s what I want to know,” she answered as she turned her attention to her twin and let out a gasp. “Grayson! Your hair! It’s silver! Why is your hair silver?”

“And freakishly long,” her brother added as he pulled a strand of the silver hair now adorning his head instead of the short light blonde locks that had been there before. “Yours is just as long,” he pointed out.

“Did anyone else get a tattoo after getting smashed last night,” Erica asked loudly as she stared down at her left hand. “Also, did I get a bad batch of vodka or what? Cause I’m pretty sure that I’m hallucinating right now.”

“If you think that you’re in the middle of the woods, then we must be sharing the same hallucination,” Riley answered as she, too, stared down at her left hand. “Seems I got a tattoo as well.”

“Same,” Elise and Grayson commented together as they checked their own hands.

“I actually don’t see anything on your hand,” Grayson said with furrowed eyebrows as the others began muttering among themselves.

“It looks like some kind of flag with a sun on it,” Elise stated as she held her left hand out closer to her brother. How could he miss it?

Grayson shook his head again. “I don’t see anything,” he reiterated. “Can you see mine?”

Elise looked at her twin’s hand and shook her head. “Your hand looks normal to me.” The panic was in full swing now, and her hands began to shake as she pushed her abnormally long hair behind her left ear.

“Elise,” Grayson said with slightly wider eyes. “Your… uh… ear,” he trailed off.

The woman reached up to touch her ear and found a pointed tip greeted her fingers. “Oh no… no… no… no,” she began repeating over and over again. “What is going on? What happened to us?”

Grayson helped his sister to stand and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t know, but I am sure that we’ll manage to get through whatever this is,” he tried to comfort her.

“We look like we’re going to some kind of Ren Faire,” Ashlan commented with distaste as she plucked at her skirt.

“There is some serious voodoo or something going on right now,” Alexis stated as she looked at her siblings and friends.

“Okay, let’s just try to keep calm everyone,” Adrien, the ever reliable and level-headed one called out above all the mutterings. “We just need to approach this logically. The facts of the situation seem to be that we were somehow brought to the middle of some woods. We have different clothes on, and some of us look significantly different in appearance,” he stated as he glanced at his best friend. “The first thing we need to do is determine our location. Does anyone still have their phone?”

Several negative answers sounded as people began to pat themselves down. Before anything else could be said, however, there was a commotion nearby. Elise could hear lots of shouting and what sounded like strange growls along with metal ringing against metal. She instinctively clutched at her brother’s arm as their entire group fell silent. They didn’t know where they were and could be in danger.

They stood in absolute silence as the noises continued for what felt like an eternity but was probably only a quarter of an hour. Then there was an increased sound of rustling as something moved towards them at a quick pace. A moment later, the most hideous creature Elise had ever seen barreled into their clearing. She let go of Grayson’s arm and began to move backwards away from the creature, who had paused upon seeing them. Then it pulled a dagger out and ran straight for Elise.

Someone screamed. It may have been her. Elise wasn’t sure as she watched what could only be her death approach with quick steps. It grinned at her, showing off jagged yellow teeth, but six feet away from her, it lurched slightly to the side. She watched as its head went to the right while its body continued forward and fell at her feet pouring black blood into an ever-growing puddle. When she looked up again, she saw a tall man standing several feet in front of her, silver armor glinting in the sun where it wasn’t covered in the black blood. His large sword was still held aloft, and black blood dripped from it in an audible soft plopping sound as it hit the forest floor.

“Cami,” Caitlyn shouted, and somewhere in the back of her mind Elise was sure that Camilla had fainted. She never could stand the sight of blood.

“Come on, Em. Deep breaths,” Kaylie told her friend, but still Elise continued to stare at the stranger.

Elise raised a trembling hand to her heart. It was still beating. She was alive. “Th…,” she tried to get out, but her tongue wouldn’t cooperate.

The stranger’s eyes left hers and flicked to her left hand for a brief moment. He then looked down at his own left hand as his eyes went wide. Then, with a few quick steps, he was suddenly in front of her, and he pulled her into his arms in a fierce embrace.

Elise went rigid. Some strange man had his arms around her after cutting off the head of some creature with a huge sword. The only thing she could consciously register was how uncomfortable it was to be pressed up against a wall of metal while the stranger muttered something over and over again.

“Get off of her,” Grayson shouted as he pulled Elise from the man’s arms and stepped between them.

A moment later she felt Adrien’s presence behind her as he placed a hand upon her shoulder. “You okay,” he asked quietly, and she nodded.

The stranger looked from Elise to Grayson who was glaring at him to Adrien who stood with a serious and intimidating look upon his face. He shook his head and then said something that none of them could understand. He repeated himself, and most of the group exchanged questioning glances. He sighed in obvious frustration and then spoke again. “Do you speak the Common Tongue?”

“Yes,” Kaylie answered evenly as the others all stared at each other in shock.

“What are you doing here,” the man asked as he crossed his arms across his chest.

“I am afraid we are lost,” Kaylie replied with a small shrug. “Could you please tell us where we are?”

The man narrowed his eyes at her before nodding. “You are about three miles from the entrance to Rivendell. From whence did you come, and why do you foolishly travel unarmed in times such as these?”

Rivendell? Elise shook her head. Had they somehow been put into some kind of crazy cosplay? That didn’t make sense, not with someone dead at her feet. She just hoped that they would be able to get somewhere safe without the strange man attacking her again.

Chapter Text

Kaylie kept her features neutral. Rivendell, as in The Lord of the Rings? She thought that he’d been speaking in Sindarin. What did this mean? Now wasn’t the time for questions, however. She and her friends needed safety. So, she nodded and put her best lying skills to the test. She had gotten her friends out of many tough situations, and now would be no different. “I am glad to hear that. I am afraid my companions and I have had several mishaps along our journey, but we seek the wisdom and counsel of Lord Elrond. Will you be kind enough to show us the way?”

“You were traveling to see Lord Elrond,” the elf – at least she was pretty sure that is what he was or was meant to be given the hint of a pointed ear she’d seen peeking through his golden hair – questioned rather suspiciously. “On what matter?”

“I am afraid that information is for Lord Elrond’s ears only,” Kaylie replied with a sigh. “As you have already pointed out, we are unarmed. We mean you, your lord, and your city no harm, and should Lord Elrond wish you to be present when we explain our situation to him, we, of course, will not object.”

“Indeed,” the stranger stated with a frown before another elf joined him. This one had dark brown hair, and the two conversed for a few minutes before he turned to their group once more. “Follow me,” he commanded.

“May we not have the name of our guide,” Kaylie asked as she stepped forward after the blonde.

“I think I will keep that information to myself as you seem to be doing,” he threw over his shoulder.

Kaylie nearly rolled her eyes, but she had more pressing concerns. “Are you alright, Em,” she asked her friend who still looked rather pale.

Emma nodded. “Just get me away from here, and I will be fine.”

Kaylie nodded and stepped forward with her friend. “How is Cami doing,” she asked Christin and Caitlyn.

“I think she’ll be okay,” Christin answered as she glanced at her sister, who still looked completely out of it, but at least she was conscious.

Kaylie looked to Adrien who was already moving in that direction while Grayson kept a tight hold on his sister. He nodded to her as he helped Camilla to her feet and allowed her to lean against him. With everyone mostly situated, she began to follow after their guide.

“What are you doing,” Alexis hissed to her as she caught up with the slightly shorter woman. “What was that nonsense you were spouting, and why can we understand whatever language he was speaking?”

“Don’t say anything,” Kaylie warned her as she watched the elf in front of them slightly turn his head. “Just leave this to me. We needed a safe place, and I’m going to get us one.”

Alexis gave her a hard look before nodding and retreating to walk alongside her sister, and Kaylie breathed a sigh of relief. Alexis could be ridiculously stubborn, and she was glad that the woman hadn’t put up much of a fight. They walked on in silence, and she made note that there were others, a lot of others, in fact, flitting in and out of the trees around them. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. This truly was going to be quite the test for her.

It was an hour and a half before they finally reached a large gate that opened for them as they approached, and Kaylie’s mouth nearly fell open at the beauty that greeted her as she stepped into what she had to suppose was Rivendell. Graceful white arches, waterfalls, high walkways connecting the various buildings, and beautiful greenery filled her vision. As they approached, she watched their guide speak to another and send them running off towards one of the buildings while they followed at a much more sedate pace.

Kaylie didn’t have much time to admire the scenery before they were led into the largest structure. Once they were inside, the elf from before reappeared. “Please follow me. Lord Elrond is waiting for you in the council room,” he stated in that strange language that they apparently could understand. She was fairly certain that their guide had called it the Common Tongue, and well, if this were some kind of elaborate setup or cosplay, she supposed that made sense.

Kaylie heard the others muttering behind her, but she held her tongue and gathered her wits as best as she could. A few moments later, they entered a large chamber that was mostly taken up by a huge table that was surrounded by chairs. At the top of the table stood an elf – she was still having trouble using that word even inside her own mind – with long dark hair. This must be Lord Elrond, and her first thought was that he looked nothing like Hugo Weaving.

Lord Elrond looked over their group with a face that looked youthful, ancient, and wise all at once. It was rather startling to see in person. “My servant says that none of you speak Sindarin,” he stated even as he gave them a questioning look. “Yet, there are Elves among you.”

“Our circumstances are unique, my lord,” Kaylie answered before dipping into a perfect curtsy. She thanked whatever cosmic powers existed that had seen her take a semester of theatre with an eccentric old woman that demanded the entire class learn proper court etiquette for their rendition of Sleeping Beauty.

“Is that so,” he replied with one lifted eyebrow that looked as if it had been plucked to perfection by a professional make-up artist. “Please explain.”

“I will be glad to do so, my lord, but our tale is for your ears alone,” Kaylie answered as she tried to keep her voice from betraying the rapid thumping of her heart. The elf lord’s gaze felt like it could see straight to her soul.

Now both eyebrows were up as the brunette turned to their guide. “I would request your permission to stay, hir-nin,” the blonde replied firmly to the unasked question. He then said something in that other language, and Lord Elrond’s eyes went a bit wide as they turned in Elise’s direction for a moment.

“Very well,” Lord Elrond stated with a nod. “Glorfindel will stay to hear your explanation.” He then turned those piercing grey eyes on Kaylie once more.

Glorfindel? Like THE Glorfindel? Kaylie swallowed. She cast a quick glance at the blonde. Unfortunately, she could see it. “Very well, my lords,” she added the plural for the sake of politeness.

Glorfindel took the seat on Lord Elrond’s right, and taking it as their sign, Kaylie’s friends took seats around the table. She noticed that Grayson was careful to keep Elise as far away from the blonde elf as possible while Adrien took the seat next to him. She supposed after witnessing their guide glomping Elise, they didn’t trust him near any of the other women in the group.

Once everyone was seated, Kaylie turned her attention to Lord Elrond who was sitting on her right and Glorfindel who was sitting across from her. “Perhaps it would be best to begin with introductions,” she began before giving her first name and moving around the table, giving first names only.

“Odd names for children of the firstborn,” Lord Elrond commented thoughtfully before turning back to Kaylie since it seemed she would be the only one to speak.

“Indeed, my lord, they are, but they are perfectly acceptable names for mortals, which all of us were up until this morning,” Kaylie replied as she folded her hands in front of her on the table.

“That’s impossible,” Glorfindel commented with an obvious scoff in his voice. He still clearly did not trust them.

Lord Elrond held up his hand to silence the other elf. “And exactly how did such a change occur,” the elf lord asked as he leaned his head upon one fist.

“I do not know, my lord. All I can do is explain the events that led up to today,” Kaylie said with a shake of her head.

“Then, pray continue,” Lord Elrond encouraged when she fell silent for a few moments.

“Yesterday was Emma’s… begetting day,” she tried out the term, hoping it would work in place of birthday. When neither elf seemed confused by the usage, she continued. “We all went to celebrate with her at a tavern in the city where we live. After celebrating for several hours, we returned to Emma’s home to continue our celebration. By the end of the night, we had all overindulged in the wine, mead, and ale that were available to us, which is, unfortunately, how we missed the house catching on fire before it was too late.”

“It is my fault,” Emma interjected quietly, and all eyes turned to her. “My father received a threatening letter again a few days ago, but we didn’t think anything of it. I shouldn’t have let you all come to my house.”

“A threatening letter,” Lord Elrond questioned with a frown.

“Emma’s father is a leader in our city,” Kaylie stated quickly before continuing. “Many people do not like the laws that he has put into place recently. He often receives threats of violence against him.” She then turned her attention to her friend. “You could not have known that they would follow through this time, Em, so do not blame yourself.”

“So, you are saying that someone set your friend’s home on fire,” Glorfindel asked in confusion. “How did you make it out of her home then?”

Kaylie took a deep breath. She really did not want to say the next part. “I… do not think that we did,” she said so quietly that they almost couldn’t hear her. “There was only one way out of the room we were in, and the fire was directly on the other side of the door. The room filled with smoke. Chris passed out, and we were all coughing. There was lots of crackling, and then everything went black.”

“The roof caved in,” Adrien stated in a slightly broken voice as the memory played across his face. No doubt his last thoughts had been his failure to save any of them.

“I am afraid I do not understand how you can be before me now if you perished in this fire,” Lord Elrond said in an even voice as he tapped his fingers along his perfectly angled jaw.

“I am not sure, my lord,” Kaylie admitted with a sigh. “I remember darkness, and then there was a voice. I do not know what the voice said, but when I opened my eyes this morning, I was in the woods with my friends where Lord Glorfindel found us.”

“None of you recall what this voice said,” Lord Elrond queried as he looked around the group.

Kaylie was not that surprised when Caitlyn spoke up. The woman had a memory like a steel trap. “I think I remember parts of it. It was a song or rather a chant,” she said, and Kaylie nodded. Cait also had a knack for music. It was no wonder that she would remember.

All eyes turned to the triplet in question, and she closed her eyes. “Just give me a moment,” she requested as she took a deep steadying breath. “Kaylie’s right. There was nothing but darkness, but in the darkness, there was a voice. It was quiet but also incredibly powerful, the kind of voice you’d expect to be able to level a mountain with a word. He was singing something, but I could not understand it all. He switched languages, or maybe he was chanting in several languages at once. I tried to find the source of the voice, but there was only darkness.”

“Do you recall any of the words he sang,” Lord Glorfindel asked as he gripped his hands together tightly. Whatever was going through his mind seemed to be an important turning point.

Caitlyn nodded. “The rhythm and rhyming scheme were unexpected, but I think I can recall some of it,” she stated before taking another deep breath.

The hroar are gone
The fëar live on
But all can be saved

New hroar are made
Before fëar fade
A new path is paved

New music will sound
In this final round
Against darkness old

Then mates they shall find
And fëar will bind
As…As…

Caitlyn shook her head. “I think the last word is told, but I just cannot remember. I am sorry. I know there is more, but I could not understand any more than that,” she apologized as she hung her head. She had tripped over the foreign words, but it seemed, given the wondering look on Glorfindel’s face and the extremely introspective one on Lord Elrond’s, that her words meant something to them.

“Hir-nin, you surely do not believe,” Glorfindel began as he turned to his lord.

“It seems quite possible,” the elf lord answered thoughtfully. After a moment, he turned his piercing gaze back upon Kaylie. “You have not told us all, however.” It was not a question.

“I am afraid, my lord, that the details I have left out may be too difficult to explain in comprehensible terms,” Kaylie tried to defend herself under the scrutinizing stare of the elf lord.

“I would hear whatever it is,” he answered sternly, and it was clear in that moment that he truly was a noble lord used to being obeyed.

Kaylie sighed loudly and nodded. “The fact is, my lord, that I do not know where we are in relation to our own city. That is… if we did indeed perish in the fire, then it seems likely that we have travelled either through time or from another plane of existence. For you see, where we are from, the things that have and possibly will happen here are already long past. And, either due to the number of years or space that separates here from there, the things that have happened and will happen here are nothing more than children’s tales in our home.”

“You claim to know the future,” Lord Elrond asked with great interest.

“I know the tales that have been told about your future, though I am not sure what year it is right now here. So, I cannot say for sure when in your history we are,” Kaylie replied as she felt a headache coming on. Trying to wrap her own mind around this situation was difficult enough without trying to explain it to others.

“It is currently 3009 in the Third Age,” Glorfindel answered before running his hand through his slightly matted hair.

“Nine years then,” Kaylie commented to herself in English before turning to the rest of the table. “I think it would be very unwise to discuss the future with which we are familiar. Our presence here may cause changes to it in any case,” she stated as much to the two elvish lords as she did to her friends. As she saw Glorfindel beginning to look incredulous again, she added. “I can, however, tell you about the past. I know that Glorfindel was born during the Years of the Trees. He came across the sea when the Noldor left Valinor and eventually settled in Gondolin as the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. He perished when the city fell and was given a new body and sent back to Middle-Earth.”

“All of that is fairly common knowledge,” Glorfindel said, though he looked rather shaken at having his history told to him.

“To someone who does not speak Elvish,” Kaylie asked with her own lifted brow.

To her surprise, Lord Elrond actually chuckled. “I am afraid she is quite right, Glorfindel. While your history is the subject of many songs and tales among our own people, they are all in our own language, and the race of Men has long since forgotten such stories.” He sat for a moment in silence before looking around the table. “As incredible as it seems, I do believe your tale. However, I wish to have time to meditate upon your situation. Perhaps the Valar will reveal something of the nature of your situation to me. Until then, you are free to stay in Rivendell. I would caution you, though. Do not reveal your true origins to anyone if you can help it.”

“Those of you who now find yourselves among the firstborn will no doubt face the greatest challenge. I would suggest constructing a reasonable tale that may be shared with those outside this room along with appropriate Elvish names. It will raise fewer questions. As your stay may be long, I will arrange for my advisor Erestor to teach all of you Elvish as well as history. Though, it would seem some of you are already well versed in that,” he added with a slight lifting of the corners of his mouth as he glanced at Kaylie. “While some of you have obviously retained your mortality, learning Elvish will serve you well as you reside here.”

The elf lord then looked at the two males of their group. “Adrien, Grayson, I would highly suggest that you allow Glorfindel to arrange combat training for you as the head of the soldiers here in Rivendell. These are very dangerous times, and no young man or elf should be without the means to protect himself and those under his care,” he stated seriously.

“What about the rest of us,” Ashlan questioned as she looked around at her female friends and sister. “Since it seems we may be here a while, shouldn’t we all learn to defend ourselves?”

Kaylie shook her head. It seemed none of them wanted to say what they were all thinking, that they were here permanently, but she had to admit that Ashlan raised a good point. She certainly did not consider herself one for violence, but she would like to be able to defend herself, at least, if the situation called for it.

Lord Elrond did not immediately reply, and they all held their breaths for a moment before he finally broke his silence. “While the Sindarin realms of Middle-Earth teach their ellith weaponry and combat, such has never been the way here in Rivendell,” he began and held up his hand before any of the females present could protest. “However, I certainly think it would benefit all of you to learn some basic self-defense. Even my own daughter knows her way around a sword should she need to use one, which I pray never occurs. Anything beyond that training will be left to Glorfindel’s discretion.”

When they had all nodded their acceptance of this, the elf lord continued. “Now, do you have any questions for me?”

Chapter Text

Grayson looked around the table. The past half an hour had been so full of information – And where had Kaylie come up with half the things she’d said? – that his head was spinning. Yet, he only had one real concern at this point, and that was keeping Elise safe through whatever mess they had landed themselves in.

It was obvious that his sister was just as uncomfortable as he was since she had been squeezing Grayson’s right hand on and off throughout the entire discussion. He was certain that it had to do with the blonde at the other end of the table. Had they called him Glorfindel? He thought that was right though he didn’t know what kind of weird name that was. He’d have to ask Kaylie since she obviously knew who he was.

Grayson’s thoughts continued spinning as Alexis finally opened her mouth. “I do have a question. How are we able to speak… whatever it is we have been speaking? It is nothing like our own language, and I know for certain that I didn’t study it.”

Grayson mentally thanked Alexis for speaking up. He had been wondering the same thing, but he was extremely out of his element here. If this was what it seemed, then he was stuck in some fantasy book place that Emma and Kaylie loved. He had seen the movies, but he wasn’t nearly as crazy about them as those two were.

“I believe that the power that brought you here gave you the ability to understand and speak the Common Tongue so that your transition would be made easier,” Lord Elrond hypothesized after a moment or two of thought.

“What about these weird tattoos on our hands,” Erica piped up as she raised her left hand in front of her face.

Grayson glanced down at his own hand and was unnerved to find the silver mark still there, and he once again mentally thanked his friends for voicing his own questions. What could it mean?

Lord Elrond actually looked shocked for a brief moment before schooling his features once more. “You do not know,” he asked turning to Kaylie who shook her head. “How can this be? Was there nothing in the history records?”

“None of the histories or stories I have read or researched ever mentioned markings like these,” Kaylie assured him, and they all turned their questioning gazes to the brunette elf.

“And, you did not have such markings before you arrived,” the elf lord further questioned. Once again Kaylie shook her head. “I do not understand how that is possible, but I will explain,” he stated with a troubled sigh. “When the Allfather created Elves and Men, he did so in pairs so that the two might assist each other throughout their lives in Arda. When Elves first awoke, markings were placed upon their left hands so that the pairs might find one another. At that time the markings were visible to all, but then Finwë wed MÍriel, who was not meant for him. His choice caused much havoc, and after that, the Valar made the markings invisible to all but each half of the pair. Even so, most unbonded Elves wear gloves to show their understanding of the importance of the markings.”

“Then how does anyone ever find their other half,” Christin quietly asked with a frown.

“There are certain events that occur where the unbonded are expected to look for their mates, so gloves are not worn. In general, however, it is not considered an acceptable topic of conversation out of respect for the gift given to us by the Allfather of having someone to go through life with us,” Lord Elrond explained as best as he could.

“What about us,” Riley piped up as she gestured to herself and the other humans at the table.

“I do not know all the ways of Men,” the brunette admitted as he looked directly at her. “However, I can say that they are not as reserved about their marks. They have short lives and a small window to find their partners, so it is understandable.”

“Is that why he accosted my sister,” Grayson asked as he pointed to the blonde with a decided frown. “He thinks she’s his destined life partner?” He couldn’t help the scoff that came with the question. They were talking about soulmates. They could call it what they wanted, but that’s what they were saying. It was utterly ridiculous.

Lord Elrond looked astonished for a second before turning to Glorfindel and speaking in their own tongue for a moment. Grayson watched as the blonde looked sheepish for a second, and then Elrond turned back to him. “I think it is best if we discuss such a subject later. However, I will say that I am surprised by your obvious disbelief in this practice. I would think it would be easier to accept than being put into a completely different body than your own.”

Grayson begrudgingly acknowledged that he had a point. “I have never believed in such a thing. It is not logical. What happens if one half of the pair dies before they ever meet? Is the other doomed to be alone forever? What if they fall in love with someone who isn’t their match? What if they simply never meet? There are too many things that can go wrong for it all to work out perfectly in real life.”

“Such things do occur, especially among Men,” Elrond conceded before fixing Grayson with a penetrating stare, “but among Elves,” and he emphasized the word, making sure Grayson knew he was included in that group now, whether he liked it or not, “we have a better understanding of death and what comes after as well as the dangers of bonding outside of your destined pair. We also respect the Allfather’s wisdom and believe that our other half is the best choice for us. Many Elves grow up with their partners, but some wait many years and do so patiently, knowing that the relationship they will obtain in the end will be worth the wait. It took me nearly eighteen hundred years to meet my wife, and I do not regret a single moment of that time.”

Grayson couldn’t help but stare back. Eighteen hundred years? Just how old was this guy? He shook his head. He had never been one for faith or religion. It’s not that he didn’t believe in some higher power. He didn’t have much of a choice given his current situation. He just didn’t think that power had any sort of personal interest in him, or at least it hadn’t up until now. Otherwise, said power should have done something for him and Elise while their father was in one of his violent fits. So, he wasn’t willing to trust some fickle deity that only concerned itself with him when it was convenient.

“Now, if there are no more questions,” Lord Elrond began after a few minutes of silence, “Lindir will show you to your rooms. But, Elise,” he said as he turned his attention to Grayson’s sister, “I would like you and your brother to remain for a few minutes more.” He then stood from his chair and pulled on a rope that hung behind it.

A moment later, the same elf from before appeared once more. After conversing with Lord Elrond, he then turned his attention to Grayson’s friends. “My lord, my ladies, if you will follow me, I will show you to your rooms where you may rest until the evening meal.”

Everyone stood from the table and moved towards the door. Adrien paused for a second to clap Grayson on the shoulder. “Good luck,” he said quietly before following the ladies from the room.

“Elise, if you would, please,” Lord Elrond called their attention back to him as he gestured for Elise to take the seat that Kaylie had occupied before.

Elise swallowed hard but made her way to the indicated chair while Grayson took the one next to her. He squeezed her arm in support and was rewarded with a small smile. She wasn’t alone here, and he wanted to make sure that she knew it.

“Now, it seems there was a misunderstanding before your arrival here,” Lord Elrond began as he looked between the three remaining.

“Is that what you call it,” Grayson couldn’t help but snort as he glared at the blonde across the table.

“That is what it is,” Lord Elrond snapped in return in such a cold voice that it sounded like ice cracking. “I will not tolerate further interruptions, Grayson. If you cannot hold your tongue and behave with some measure of restraint, you will not remain. Is that understood?”

The frown deepened upon Grayson’s face, but he nodded reluctantly. “Yes, my lord,” he muttered as he stared down at the table. He felt Elise’s hand take his for a moment and looked up to see her smile at him once more.

“As I was saying,” Lord Elrond started again. “There seems to have been a misunderstanding earlier this afternoon. Glorfindel would never attack an innocent, especially not a lady.”

Grayson pressed his lips tightly together to keep himself from speaking. Whether Lord Elrond believed him or not, he knew what he’d seen, and grabbing onto a girl you didn’t know was the same as attacking her in his book.

“If I understand the situation correctly, my old friend here behaved impulsively and indecorously, neither of which is usual behavior for him. However, I hope you can forgive him, Elise, for his actions, as startling as they must have been. He has been waiting more than nine thousand years to meet you, which explains his sudden embrace,” Lord Elrond explained to Grayson’s twin with a quirk of his lips.

“So, you really think that I’m your soulmate,” Elise asked quietly as she flicked her gaze at the blonde across the way.

“The Elvish term is fëamel,” Glorfindel answered with a soft smile.

“There is an easy way to solve the issue. Elise, place your left hand upon the table,” Lord Elrond stated plainly before turning to his friend. “Glorfindel, do the same.”

Grayson watched as the blonde elf placed his left hand upon the table, but he grabbed Elise’s before she could follow suit. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered to her in English.

“It’s okay,” his sister replied before tugging her hand from her brother and placing it on the table.

Glorfindel’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at Elise’s left hand. “It is the banner of the House of the Golden Flower,” he said quietly, and his fingers twitched slightly as if he might reach forward. Elise, however, immediately moved her hand away from him.

“What is that,” Elise asked as she turned to Lord Elrond in confusion.

“The House of the Golden Flower was the house Glorfindel ruled over when he lived in Gondolin many years ago,” the elf lord answered before adding, “I am sure your friend Kaylie can tell you more about it.”

“Can you tell me what this is,” Glorfindel asked with a hint of pleading in his voice. “I have never seen such a flower, though I have searched far and wide,” he said as he moved his hand closer to Elise.

Elise bit her lip and nodded. “It is a black calla lily,” she replied.

Grayson nearly groaned. Even though he knew nothing about flowers or plants, he still knew that it was Elise’s favorite flower. Still, even if they could see each other’s marks, it didn’t give this guy any right to his sister.

“The marks usually have some significant meaning to the people, whether it is in regards to their name, their personality, or their history,” Lord Elrond explained as Elise continued to stare at the table. “Does Glorfindel’s mark mean something specific to you?”

“Cami once gave me a black calla lily after… after a difficult time. She knows all about flowers and their meanings, and she said when she gave it to me that it should be a symbol of victory over sadness, rebirth, and a ray of hope. It has been my favorite flower ever since,” Elise answered with a sad smile at the memory.

“Since that is the case, it seems that the two of you are indeed a pair,” Lord Elrond declared with a smile.

Grayson opened his mouth to protest. He wasn’t going to let this stranger have Elise just because they could see some weird marks on each other’s hands! Before he could say a word, however, Lord Elrond shot him such a cold glare that he snapped his mouth shut, fully aware that any word from him at this point would see him ejected from the room and possibly the city. He couldn’t let that happen since it would leave Elise alone.

The ruler of Rivendell turned his attention to Elise who had both of her hands in her lap and was staring at the table. “I understand that this is a lot of information to take in, especially given your unique circumstances. That is why, Glorfindel,” he said turning to the blonde elf, “I think it is best if you keep your distance for now. Allow Elise and her friends to adjust to their situation. Then, perhaps the two of you can get to know one another gradually. At the moment, I believe Elise would probably like to clean up,” he said before pulling the rope behind his chair. “I will have all of your meals sent to you tonight.”

As Lindir entered once more, Grayson gave Glorfindel one last scathing glare before standing and following their guide out of the room. As soon as they were out of earshot of the two elves, he turned to his sister. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Elise. I don’t care if you do have matching marks or whatever. They cannot make you do anything. I will not let them.”

Elise smiled at him. “Thanks, Grayson. It is a lot to think about,” she stated with a sigh as they continued down the hallway.

Chapter Text

Cami sat in front of the mirror that stood in the corner of the guest room that she had been given to share with Elise. This whole situation was unsettling at the best and nervous breakdown inducing at the worst. She stared at her reflection some more. This was the first good look she’d had of herself since arriving. She didn’t look the same as before, at least not completely. She was still the same height as far as she could tell, but her hair and eyes were both different colors now. Her face looked the same in general, but it was more angular.

The new elf sighed as she reached out to touch the glass. The changes didn’t bother her that much except for the fact that she and her sisters no longer looked the same. They were identical triplets. Looking the same was part of who they were, and now it was suddenly gone. All three had different hair colors now, and it wasn’t from temporary dye this time. Chris and Cait had often complained about being mistaken for each other, but Cami had liked being part of a unit so to speak. Now that was gone. Her thoughts were interrupted, and she stood up from the floor as the door opened.

“Hey,” she greeted as Elise came through the door and shut it behind her. “Elise, are you okay?” She knew it was a stupid question. None of them were okay right now, but Elise looked even more distressed than when they had left her and Grayson behind earlier.

Elise nodded and then shook her head, and then she burst into tears.

Cami was beside her in a moment and gently led her to sit on one of the beds beside her. Elise had always been several inches taller than her and still was, but she still managed to get her friend’s head onto her shoulder as she sobbed. “Hey, it will be okay,” she tried to soothe her. “Just tell me what happened after we left.”

In broken sentences, Elise managed to explain what had occurred. “I just don’t know what to do,” she exclaimed as she scrubbed a hand across her face now that she was beginning to calm.

“Well, first, let’s get you into a clean dress,” Cami declared as she stood and pulled Elise up beside her. “You’re lucky. With your height you won’t have to worry about tripping over the hems or pinning them up. They should fit you nicely. Lindir brought several that he acquired from Lord Elrond’s daughter, Lady Arwen, and several of her friends. I think this purple one would look nice on you,” she said as she held up a dark purple gown and looked at her friend once more. “On second thought, you should probably bathe first,” she declared as she, again, noticed the blood matting her friend’s hair in places and staining her gown. Given how dark Elise’s hair was, it was difficult to see, for which she was thankful as her stomach gave a decided lurch, and she turned away. She’d already fainted once and did not want to repeat that experience today.

“Stop trying to distract me, Cami,” Elise stated with a sigh. “I am serious! I don’t know what to do about any of this,” she said throwing her hands into the air.

“None of us do,” Cami gently reminded her. “You aren’t alone in this, Elise, and Grayson is right. You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to.”

Elise’s whole frame slumped. “You didn’t see his face, Cami. There was so much pain in his eyes, and he looked at me with… utter longing. It was overwhelming. He’s been waiting for nine thousand years, Cami, just for me, and I feel awful about that.”

Cami set the dress down and stepped towards her friend. She wrapped her arms around her in a fierce hug, completely ignoring the blood. “That is not your fault, Elise,” she said firmly before continuing, “and you of all people should know that it is a bad reason for starting a relationship with someone. However,” she added in a gentler tone, “not all men… or elves I guess in this case… are like your dad and Mark. There are good ones like Grayson and Adrien.”

“Are you saying I should date him,” Elise questioned, obviously confused.

“No,” Cami replied emphatically as she stepped away from the taller woman and shook her gently by the shoulders. “I’m saying that you shouldn’t rush into this at all! Don’t let him or anyone guilt you into a relationship, but don’t write the guy off either. He may turn out to be a real winner. Just take your time. Maybe get to know him on friendly terms only and see what happens.”

Elise gave her a lopsided smile. “That is what Lord Elrond suggested as well, and he’s supposed to be really smart, right?”

“If you believe Kaylie, yes,” Cami replied with a laugh before adding, “And we both know that she knows what she’s talking about.”

“Yes, she does,” Elise agreed as her smile righted itself while thinking of her friend.

“We all talked together while you and Grayson stayed behind. She said that she would come up with names for all of us that now have pointy ears,” Cami jested slightly. “She also said that it is definitely best not to talk about anything we might know from the movies or books as most of it has not happened yet, and it would simply be too difficult to explain. She volunteered to be our spokesperson, and we all agreed since she’s the one that seems to know the most, though Emma doesn’t seem quite as lost as the rest of us.”

Elise nodded. “That makes sense,” she agreed before Cami made her way over to a large tub.

“I think we should be grateful that they have running water, at least,” the younger woman said as she turned one of the knobs, and hot water began to pour into the large tub. “I really do think it is best if you bathe.”

“Do I smell that bad,” Elise asked with a grin as she joined her friend who was arranging a screen to give Elise some privacy.

“Well, I wasn’t going to mention it,” Cami teased her good naturedly. “I think these are the soaps and shampoos,” she added with a shrug as she pointed at the bottles sitting on a shelf near the tub.

“Ah, I see how it is. You just want me to be the guinea pig,” Elise complained, and Cami was happy to see that her friend looked a bit more like herself.

“You have found me out,” Cami admitted with a dramatic sigh before turning serious once more. “I do think a nice bath will make you feel better in all honesty.”

Elise nodded and stepped behind the screen. A moment later, Cami could hear her turning the knobs off and stepping into the tub. “Did you speak of anything else while Grayson and I were away,” she asked curiously.

“We did,” Cami answered readily as she sat on her borrowed bed. “We talked about the fact that all of us have those marks. They’re all different, and Kaylie seemed to have some ideas on some of them. But, she wouldn’t say much. She said that it’s probably for the best if we follow the rules here, so no talking about them or showing them off.”

“So, we can’t talk about what we know. We can’t talk about what we don’t know. Is there anything Kaylie said we could talk about,” Elise asked with a bit of a snort.

“Not particularly,” Cami replied with a chuckle. “She more or less suggested that we just take one day at a time.”

“Is she in her room,” Elise asked curiously.

“No,” Cami answered with a shake of her head despite the fact that Elise could not see her. “She said she was going to arrange for dinner to be brought to us tonight before heading off to find the library to research something or other, maybe our names,” Cami guessed aloud. “She’s sharing a room with Erica a couple of doors down,” she added as she smoothed a hand down her dress and wondered how exactly their wilder friend was doing with all of this.

Chapter Text

At twenty-four, Erica Thomas had seen a lot of crazy things. She’d done a lot of crazy things, but nothing compared to her current situation. And she was very glad, for the moment, that Kaylie was out of the room they were sharing so that she could have some time to herself.

Erica was not in the habit of self-reflection. In fact, she avoided all such thoughts as much as possible as they usually led to anger and depression. However, given her current circumstances, now seemed like a really good time to examine some things.

The facts of the matter, as far as Erica could tell, were that they were all dead and had been sent to some other world that very much resembled, or perhaps was, from a series of books. She knew the others didn’t really want to talk about it and had avoided saying it, but the truth was what it was. They had all died in a fire in Emma’s house apparently. That was just the way things were. Now, they were somewhere else, and most of them looked at least a little different.

The last thought caused her to run a couple of fingers over the tip of her now pointed ear. It was very disconcerting to suddenly look so similar and different at the same time. It made her feel as if she were a stranger in her own body, and she hated it. She supposed, however, that she had better get used to it as the chances of them getting back to their homes seemed nil, not that she had any real inducement to want to return to her home.

Erica’s parents had made it very clear on multiple occasions that not only had she been an unwanted addition to their twosome but that she also was nothing more than a disappointment to them. She supposed it was difficult for them among their snotty stuck-up friends to talk about her when she had no accomplishments for them to brag about. Instead, she’d had a tattoo on the back of her shoulder, several piercings in each ear, and a new hair color every couple of months.

Her fingers trailed from the tip of her ear down the outside to her earlobe. All her piercings were now gone, and although she hadn’t checked yet, she was sure that her tattoo was most likely gone as well. This was a new body, after all.

She allowed her arm to fall to her side. Had her parents already buried her? Would they miss her? The answer to that was most likely not. They would probably be quite happy to not only be rid of her but also have something to distinguish them for a while. Such a tragedy as having their daughter die in a fire at the mayor’s house would give them plenty of attention for a while. Her fists unknowingly clenched. She could see it now, the overdramatic “mourning” of her mother as her father did his best to “comfort” her while “staying strong” himself. The whole idea made her want to vomit.

Her dark thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in,” she called as she sat up to see Riley enter the room and close the door behind her.

“How are you holding up,” the brunette asked as she came further into the room.

“About as well as can be expected,” Erica answered with a shrug and a sigh.

“Yeah, this whole thing is really messed up,” Riley agreed as she plopped down next to her friend.

Erica gave a small snort. “I think ‘messed up’ is the understatement of the century,” she stated with a shake of her head. “Still, I guess I don’t have that much to complain about. I mean it’s not like I had much going on at home.”

“I guess that’s true, though I am going to miss our little apartment to a certain extent. It wasn’t much, but it was ours, you know,” Riley commented as she propped her head up on her fist. “I feel bad for Kaylie, though.”

“Why is that,” Erica asked as she turned to her friend. “She seems as happy as can be. This is probably like a dream come true for her.”

Riley shook her head. “She actually had a family that really cared about her. I mean mine was alright. It’s not like we all hated each other or anything, but we all just did our own thing. She had regular get-togethers and such with hers. It hasn’t hit her yet with all the excitement, but when it does, it’s going to hit her hard that she won’t be going back.”

Erica nodded. “I guess you’re right. How did I wind up sharing a room with Kaylie anyway? You and I were actual roommates!”

“I guess our gracious hosts figured the humans would want to stay together,” she answered with a shrug. “We can swap if you want. I’m sure Em would be happier with Kaylie.”

Erica thought about it for a moment. She didn’t have anything against Kaylie, but Riley was her best friend and had been since they’d roomed together in college. It was through Riley that she’d met everyone else, but Riley wasn’t stuck in a different body. In fact, she looked exactly the same except for the missing ear piercings. “Nah, I’m good. I’m sure Kaylie’s going to have a lot to teach me about being an elf or whatever.”

Riley nodded and then stood up. “Well, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t completely falling to pieces, so I’ll head on back. I’m next door if you need me,” she stated before leaving the room.

Erica sighed and flopped back onto the bed and tried not to think about how everything was going to be different from now on, even her friendships.

Chapter Text

Riley entered the room she was currently sharing with Emma to find the slightly younger woman still sitting at the small desk in the corner, staring off into space. She seemed to come out of her thoughts, however, as Riley closed the door behind her.

“How’s Erica holding up,” Emma asked with genuine concern.

Riley shrugged. “About as well as the rest of us. She didn’t say much, but I’m guessing she wished she had a stiff drink right about now. She’s probably wondering exactly how long her parents plan to mourn before throwing a party to celebrate the fact that she’s gone.”

Emma visibly flinched at that. “Yeah, her parents were certainly not the best around. Mine may have ignored me, but I know they actually cared in their own way.”

Riley nodded. She hated Erica’s parents for the way they treated their daughter, and she expressed her hatred in rather colorful terms. “What,” she asked as she saw Emma trying not to grin as she finished her tirade on a well-worn subject.

“Sorry,” Emma tried to apologize but couldn’t keep the laugh from her voice. “It’s just that I doubt these walls have ever heard such creative language before.”

Riley huffed. “They had better get used to it. This whole situation has got me on edge,” she complained as she sat down on the bed that she had claimed earlier.

Emma nodded her agreement, and the two fell into silence for a moment. “Did Erica want to switch rooms,” she finally asked.

“No,” Riley answered with a shake of her head as her brow furrowed. “She said that she should probably stay where she is since Kaylie is going to have to teach her how to be an elf.”

“Oh, I guess she does have a point,” Emma conceded before continuing. “Still, it is a little strange for us to be sharing a room and for Erica and Kaylie to be sharing a room. Not that I have anything against sharing a room with you,” she hastily added.

Riley waved away her comment. “No worries. Erica and I are a pair just like you and Kaylie are a pair. We’re all friends together, but that’s just kind of how it worked out. Now, though, they’re both something else,” she finished rather lamely. The fact that Erica had decided not to switch rooms really bothered her. They were almost always together, even shared an apartment together, and now, it felt like a chasm had opened between them.

“Riley, what do you know about elves in this world,” Emma asked rather carefully.

Riley shrugged. “Not much, just what I remember from the movies. They’re tall, pretty, good with bows?” She shrugged again. “Is any of that even the truth?”

Emma didn’t respond immediately. “I’m not sure how much of it is true or not, but I think in general, you’re right. Elves are usually very pretty and tall. They are dexterous and light on their feet, but the real thing that worries me is that… Elves don’t die or age. They reach a certain point and just stop.”

Riley blinked at her for a moment. “What exactly are you saying, Em?” She felt her stomach give an uncomfortable lurch.

“Well, did you hear what Lord Elrond said earlier about meeting his wife,” Emma asked as she tried not to fidget.

“No,” Riley admitted. She had been too busy staring at the marking on her hand to fully pay attention.

“He said that it took him nearly eighteen hundred years to meet her,” Emma replied quietly as she stared down at her lap.

“Eighteen hundred,” Riley repeated with wide eyes. “How could…,” she began and then shut her mouth as all the pieces and implications came together. If he was that old, then their friends would be the same now, right? “So, what you’re saying is that half of our friends are going to… live forever? And, the rest of us will still grow old and die?” She placed an arm around her stomach to try to settle it.

“I’m not sure,” Emma answered in a small sad voice, “but, yes, I think so. Maybe that’s why Erica wants to stay with Kaylie. There’s like this huge gap between us now,” she answered with a sniff.

“You can say that again,” Riley muttered as her mind continued to reel around the new information. “Do you think any of the others have realized it yet?”

“I doubt it,” Emma answered with a sigh. “It only occurred to me because I was trying to figure out why they separated us like they did.”

“Then, I doubt that’s why Erica chose to stay next door,” Riley reasoned as she stood and began pacing.

“No, but I’m sure on some level, she’s already realized that the two of you are… different from one another, just like Kaylie and I are,” Emma replied before her fingers began fidgeting with each other again in her lap.

Riley took a good look at the other woman and shook her head. Emma was hurting just as much as she was, if not more. Emma was shy, and even though she had known them all for a couple of years now, she still stuck closely to Kaylie within their group of friends. So, she shook off her own melancholy and turned to Emma with a determined look. “You know, Em, nothing has to change. You can still be best friends with Kaylie if you want to be. No one can tell you who to be friends with, not even Lord Elrond. And, didn’t Arwen marry a human? So, I’m sure humans and elves can be besties. We’re the Dependable Dozen, after all! So, you and Kaylie can still hide away in the library, and when you get too old to see properly, she’ll just have to read aloud to you,” she stated with a firm nod.

Emma smiled up at her. “You’re right,” she agreed with a nod of her own. “But, I thought we were the Daring Dozen.”

Riley shrugged. “The first word is always changing depending on who you ask, and I think dependable sounded much better in this situation, so cheer up! We’re all in this together, and we’ll come through it together!” She smiled at the younger woman, feeling more heartened herself, like she’d just given a pep talk to her volleyball teammates. “Now, tell me. Do you think Grayson would let us braid his hair?”

Emma laughed heartily at that, and Riley felt the joy of her success in cheering her friend and herself.

Chapter Text

Across the hall, Caitlyn was sitting on the bed she had claimed with her back to the headboard and her head in her hands. She knew if she could just focus for a few moments that she could remember the rest of that song from the darkness. Her concentration was broken, however, as she heard laughter from Emma and Riley’s room.

“I can practically see the smoke coming out of your ears,” her sister Christin stated with a roll of her eyes. “Is it really that important to remember?”

“I don’t know,” Caitlyn admitted with a sigh. “It could be. That’s what bothers me so much.”

“Well, there is no point in stressing over it. It will just make it more difficult for you to remember,” her sister stated as she got up and went to the window. “If you’re meant to remember, you will. It will come to you eventually.”

“You’re probably right,” Caitlyn agreed as she wiggled her way down the bed so that she was flat on her back and staring at the ceiling. What a mess they had somehow landed themselves in!

“Of course, I’m right,” Christin declared before turning back to her sister. “What do you think the chances of us being able to explore are?”

“Not good,” Caitlyn answered with a smile. “Why? Are you eager to see which of these plants cause you to sneeze?”

Christin huffed. “You’re so funny. Now that you mention it, though, I haven’t sneezed once since we got here.”

“Perhaps your perpetual allergies have been cured,” Caitlyn suggested as she sat up to face her sister. “You do have a different body supposedly.” Saying that aloud felt very strange on her tongue, but it did seem to be the case.

“I guess so,” Christin agreed, though she sounded rather unsure. “I do like the silver hair, though,” she added with a grin.

“It reminds me of Halloween a few years back,” Caitlyn commented as she ran a hand through her own long golden locks.

“Too bad we’re not any taller,” Christin complained as she picked up the skirt of her borrowed dress several inches so as not to trip over it. “I thought elves were supposed to be super tall, but Adrien still towers over us.”

“Adrien is a true mountain man or rather,” Caitlyn grinned at her incoming bad pun, “a mountain of a man.”

“Oh, Cait, did you have to,” Christin asked with a groan.

“Yes, I did,” Caitlyn answered with an amused giggle. “If only to see your reaction.”

“Adrien is a modern myth, though,” Christin agreed after a moment. “I think he’s even taller than that blonde guy from earlier.”

“Glorfindel,” Caitlyn supplied the elf’s name. “And yes, I still believe that he and his sisters were all fed Miracle Grow as children.”

Christin snorted at that. “How did we wind up surrounded by a bunch of tall friends?”

“Cause we’ve known Elise and Grayson since grade school, and Grayson became friends with Adrien. The rest is history. If you don’t like it, blame Grayson,” her sister answered.

Christin nodded and then grinned. “Do you think he’d let us braid his hair?”

Caitlyn shook her head. “Not even if we all held him in place. The only one he’d give into is Elise.”

“You’re right,” Christin agreed before coming to sit next to her sister. “Can I braid your hair instead?”

Caitlyn chuckled. She should have expected such a response from her sister. She turned around so that her back was facing her. “Sure, have at it, but I get to do yours in return.”

“Done,” Christin exclaimed before going to the small vanity and opening the drawers, obviously in quest of a hairbrush or comb.

As her sister continued to rummage through the vanity, Caitlyn’s thoughts turned back to her friends and the situation they had found themselves in. Talking of Adrien earlier made her wonder how his sisters were handling things. Alexis and Ashlan both had strong personalities, so she imagined that they weren’t taking their temporary confinement well.

Chapter Text

Alexis groaned and kicked her feet against the bed she was lying on. “Ugh! I’m so bored,” she complained loudly. “I wish I had my phone. What in the world do people do around here?”

Her younger sister shrugged as she stood next to the window staring out at the garden below. “I don’t know. I guess they sewed? Picked flowers, stuff like that?”

“Seriously? How did people live? I’m going to die from boredom within a week at this pace,” Alexis continued as she threw an arm over her eyes.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Lexi,” Ashlan stated with a roll of her eyes that her sister could just see from under her arm. “We’re all going to be bored out of our minds, at least until classes begin. Then we’ll be stuck inside some dusty old library all day learning some fake language or other.”

“No,” Alexis whined as she shook her head. “I already finished college. I don’t want to go back to class. It was horrible the first time. I just barely managed to graduate, and I only passed Spanish with a D.”

Ashlan sighed as she turned her attention back to the window. “I know, right? I’m not really looking forward to it either, but there will also be sword fighting,” she added in a more excited tone. “That will be fun, right? Then you and I can totally battle each other!”

“I’ll trounce you,” Alexis declared as she sat up and grinned at the slightly younger woman.

“We’ll see,” Ashlan answered with a scoff. “It’s not like you know anything more about it than I do, so we’ll be learning at the same time.”

“Yeah, until they decide to cut us off,” Alexis complained again with a pout. “You heard what he said earlier, right? That they don’t let their women fight?”

“I heard,” Ashlan responded with a nod. “He was talking about Elves, though, right? We aren’t Elves, and between the two of us, I’m sure we can strong arm Adrien into showing us everything he learns if the others refuse to teach us.”

“Good plan,” Alexis agreed with a grin. Their brother couldn’t refuse both of them.

“Most of my plans are,” her younger sister returned with a grin of her own.

“Oh, I can think of several that were rather bad, like breaking the window of the dean’s office,” Alexis stated with a laugh at the memory.

“That wasn’t part of the plan,” Ashlan huffed turning away from the older woman. “It was an accident, and I nearly got expelled because of it.”

“Well, try not to get yourself expelled from Rivendell,” Alexis declared, and it came out much more seriously than she had meant. “We don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

Ashlan remained silent for several minutes before turning back to her sister. “Since Kaylie has forbidden us from doing anything, let’s go bother Adrien,” she said in a forced lighter tone.

“Agreed,” Alexis immediately replied as she stood from her bed. They had begun to wander into serious territory, and neither of them was very good when it came to serious topics. It was best to avoid such things for now. With those thoughts, they stepped into the hall and made their way to their brother’s room.

Chapter Text

Ashlan tried not to hurry down the hall, but she was tense and had way too much energy. If she thought she could get away with it, she would have started running laps through the building. She shook out her arms to try to rid herself of some of the tension before knocking on her brother’s door.

“Come in,” Adrien called from the other side, and she quickly opened the door and stepped inside with her sister. “What’s up,” he asked as he saw them.

“Not much,” Ashlan answered with a shrug before plopping down in a chair while Alexis sat on Adrien’s bed.

“Let me guess. That’s the problem,” Adrien asked with a knowing grin. “The two of you are bored, so you’ve come to harass me?”

“It was Ash’s idea,” Alexis was quick to declare.

Her younger sister rolled her eyes. Trust Alexis to throw her under the bus even in something simple like this. “Thanks, Lexi,” she said with heavy sarcasm.

“You’re welcome,” her sister replied.

“Come on, you two. Don’t start sniping at each other. Things are crazy enough as it is,” Adrien reprimanded his sisters slightly.

“We’re just bored,” Ashlan stated as she leaned back in her chair. “Can’t you think of anything that we can do until our jailer releases us?”

“Kaylie is hardly a jailer,” her brother argued with a frown. “She’s only trying to keep us safe, and since she knows more than the rest of us, I think it’s a good idea we listen to her. We can’t just go roaming around when we can’t speak the language and don’t have any sort of story sorted out to tell people. If we all start telling people different things, it will be too suspicious.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ashlan admitted with another sigh. “It’s just hard sitting around doing nothing.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Alexis agreed as she allowed her upper half to fall backwards onto her brother’s bed. “There’s no cell phone, no computer, no gym, nothing.”

“Yeah, poor Ash is probably ready to explode by now,” Grayson commented with a laugh from his own bed.

“She spent as much time at my gym as I did,” Adrien agreed with a chuckle of his own.

“And you paid me to do it,” Ashlan crowed triumphantly before deflating again. “But, there’s nothing to do here.”

“Not yet, but there will be,” Adrien argued before adding, “We’ll find new ways to spend our time, I’m sure. Until then, how about we play a game?”

“Oooh, what did you have in mind,” Alexis asked as she sat up to give her brother her full attention.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Adrien cautioned as he moved from where he was leaning against the wall and began rummaging through the drawers of a side table. “It’s certainly nothing amazing.”

“Tell us what it is anyway,” Ashlan demanded, though it was hardly meant as a demand.

“I think we could have a rock, paper, scissors tournament,” Adrien suggested as he finally pulled out a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a quill from one of the drawers. He looked at them rather dubiously as he set them on top of the small nightstand. “Any idea how to use this stuff,” he asked the other three.

“No, but I bet Emma does. Didn’t she take a calligraphy class or something,” Alexis asked as she tried to remember the other girl’s history.

“I think you’re right,” Ashlan agreed as she stood. “I’ll go get her and the others. If we’re going to have a tournament, it’s going to be a proper one,” she exclaimed, happy to be doing anything, even playing rock, paper, scissors with her friends. She knew Adrien could come up with something, even if it wasn’t the most wonderful idea. It would still keep them entertained for the time being. She quickly left the room and returned a few minutes later with the rest of their friends.

“Are we really going to do this,” Erica asked with a lifted eyebrow as she glanced around the room.

“Do you have a better idea while we wait for Kaylie to return,” Riley asked with a returned lifted eyebrow.

“Touché,” Erica acquiesced as they all made themselves as comfortable as possible.

“Since there are eleven of us, one of us will need to sit out,” Ashlan declared, eager to begin. She was already stretching out her fingers subconsciously, as if that would actually help her win the game.

“I’ll sit out,” Emma offered as she sat in front of a small desk in the corner with the parchment, quill, and ink. “I’ll be keeping track of the tournament anyway.”

“Okay, how do we determine who goes first and who will be battling who,” Elise asked curiously as she looked around the room.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” Caitlyn suggested with a grin and was promptly greeted with many groans and a pillow to the face from Christin who was nearest to her.

“How about this,” Emma finally offered as she stared at the parchment. “I will assign each slot in our tournament bracket a number. Each of you pick a number one to ten, and you’ll be put into that spot. Also, do we want to do single elimination or double.”

“Double,” Ashlan immediately answered, rubbing her hands together. “It will last longer that way.”

Everyone agreed, and Emma very carefully began to draw out their bracket with the quill. “Since there are ten of you, some of you will have more matches than others,” she said with a small shrug. “I think I have everything ready though, so go ahead and pick your numbers.”

“Nine,” Ashlan quickly declared to no one’s surprise. It was her favorite number.

“One,” Alexis picked next.

The others all followed suit, and soon, Emma had everyone down in their proper places. “Okay, first up is Riley versus Adrien!”

Riley stood and moved to the center of the room, which they had all kept clear for their “battles”. She stretched and pretended to crack her neck dramatically. “You may be taller than me, but today, you’re going down,” Riley declared, and the others cheered her on.

“Bring it,” Adrien replied before cracking his knuckles.

Ashlan couldn’t help laughing loudly at how into it everyone was getting. It was truly a testament to the fact that together they could get through anything, even medieval boredom. “Take him down, Riley,” she called clapping her hands.

“Alright, let’s have a nice clean game, you two,” Emma interfered before grinning. “Ready? Begin!”

Riley and Adrien held out their right fists to begin the game. When they both chose paper, everyone laughed. So, they went a second time. Riley chose paper again, but Adrien chose rock, losing the round.

“And, Adrien becomes the first member of our losers’ bracket,” Emma stated as she wrote down his name and Riley’s in their appropriate spots.

“Woo,” Riley celebrated her win while Adrien dramatically went to sit in the corner facing the wall in shame.

“Trusty rock has failed me,” he declared much to everyone’s amusement.

Ashlan moved to his side and patted his shoulder. “There there, you won’t be alone in the Corner of Shame long.”

“Be gone, traitor,” Adrien replied with a mock scowl. “You rooted against me!”

“Next is Caitlyn versus Camilla,” Emma stated as she consulted her parchment.

The two took their places, and Caitlyn quickly won with paper against Camilla’s rock. “Trusty rock failed me, too,” Cami declared as she sat next to Adrien in the corner.

“Seems like paper is the way to go, perhaps,” Elise stated with a grin.

Alexis and Christin went next, and after two rounds of ties, Christin finally emerged victorious with paper once again.

“Maybe trusty rock isn’t so trusty,” Alexis commented with a snort as she retook her seat.

Ashlan beat Grayson next, also with paper, and celebrated loudly. “It seems paper is definitely the way to go!” She knew it was silly to be so excited over winning a harmless game, but with her friends, anything could be turned into something amazing.

“Rock is totally cursed. Don’t pick it, Elise,” Grayson muttered as he retook his seat by his sister.

Riley and Erica went next. “This should be an easy win,” Erica taunted her best friend. “You’re already tired from your first game.”

Knowing her friend as well as she did, Riley chose scissors while Erica chose paper. “You’re right. It was an easy win,” she laughed at Erica’s face.

“Paper let me down,” the other woman complained as she plopped back into her seat.

Elise then beat Caitlyn with rock. “Ah, the trusty rock has returned,” she stated with a grin at all the others who had lost with that choice.

Adrien then beat Alexis with scissors, so she became the first to be knocked out of the tournament. “Ah well,” she said with a shrug before making herself more comfortable.

Grayson then beat Camilla with paper. “I told you picking paper works,” he stated triumphantly to his sister.

“I return,” Erica exclaimed as she beat Adrien with rock, knocking him from the tournament.

Grayson then won against Caitlyn with paper once more. “Faithful paper shall not fail,” Elise shouted for her brother’s win.

After a tie, Riley beat Christin with scissors. “Hah! The faithful paper shall succumb to my scissors,” she stated as she “cut” Christin’s paper to shreds.

Elise then triumphed over Ashlan with rock. “Trusty rock only seems to work for you, Elise,” Camilla stated with a giggle as Ashlan groaned. Even though it was just a silly game, she’d really wanted to win.

Erica knocked Christin out of the game with scissors. Then Grayson won against Ashlan with rock.

“Ouch, two losses in a row,” Ashlan winced as she went to take her seat. She was a bit disappointed to be out of the game, but she would still have fun watching the others.

Riley then lost to Elise, who used scissors instead of rock, and Erica beat Grayson after a tie with scissors. Riley then won the rematch with Erica after two rounds of ties with rock. Elise then clenched her victory against Riley in their rematch by returning to her trusty rock.

“I won,” she exclaimed in surprised shock before Grayson picked her up and spun her around while everyone else cheered for her.

“I hope we’ll do this again some time. It looked fun,” Kaylie commented from her place near the door. “But, remind me never to play rock, paper, scissors against Elise if anything important is on the line.”

Ashlan’s mouth dropped open as she stared at the other woman. “How long have you been there,” she asked as she blinked at her.

“A few minutes,” Kaylie returned with a shrug. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“We were just trying to pass the time while we waited for you,” Adrien explained as he looked around the room.

Kaylie nodded in understanding. “I know it must be really boring to have to sit and wait, so I did try to hurry.”

“And, what have you got for us,” Ashlan asked a bit impatiently. The sooner they could get more information, the sooner they would be free to move around more.

“Chill, Ash,” Kaylie answered as she held up a piece of parchment. “I haven’t wasted a single moment. I promise,” she assured the group before beginning. “First, it seems Lord Elrond has already arranged for us to eat in our rooms tonight, so there was no need to worry about that. Second, I found Erestor, Lord Elrond’s counselor in the library, and he was extremely helpful. He will be the one teaching us history and Sindarin.”

Ashlan nearly groaned aloud at the idea. She, like her sister, had never been too fond of classes, especially boring history and language classes.

“We will start those tomorrow,” Kaylie continued as she glanced down at her parchment. “Combat training will begin later. I’m not sure when. Glorfindel said that he needed to make some arrangements first. I imagine it is rather difficult to suddenly have to outfit a dozen people.”

Ashlan couldn’t suppress the groan the second time. It seemed they would have to wait to begin the training that she was actually interested in. Go figure!

Kaylie completely ignored her obvious dissatisfaction. “With Erestor’s help, I was able to come up with Elvish names for all of us that need them. I also concocted a believable history for us with his assistance and which Lord Elrond approved.”

“So, what’s our cover story,” Grayson asked curiously.

“We are from a small tribe of Avarin Elves that lived in a patch of woods near the Sea of Rhûn in the East. There was a human village nearby with which we were very friendly. Over time, we simply adopted their language as our own, meaning English and the Common Tongue. This is why we don’t speak Sindarin and have to learn. As evil grew in the east, both our tribe and the humans of the village fled west together. We came through the southern part of Mirkwood where many of our people were captured or killed. We then crossed the mountains where we lost more of our people. We are all that remains of the original group,” Kaylie explained with a very satisfied smile.

Ashlan shook her head. “I only understood about half of that, so can you start over,” she asked as several others around her nodded.

Kaylie sighed but began again.

Chapter Text

Elise placed her head in her hands for a moment before looking around the room. It was their first day of lessons with Erestor, but it was not going well. She felt terrible for the elf, who was doing his best to be patient with them, but even he seemed to be losing his composure.

Ashlan and Alexis both had their heads on the table, having completely given up on even trying to understand the history that was being taught. Adrien was leaning back in his chair trying to at least appear to be paying attention, but considering he’d snapped his quill two minutes into the lesson, he hadn’t been able to take notes. Emma on the other hand had an entire two pages of parchment filled with neat script. Kaylie had a few but had been struggling with using her quill as skillfully as Emma.

Elise herself had tried to write with the quill she had been given, and her piece of parchment was covered in smeared words and ink blots. She was going to have to ask Emma to show her how to do it properly. As she caught the end of what Erestor was saying, she realized that her mind had drifted. “I’m sorry,” she exclaimed, trying to catch up. “I don’t understand. Is there one god or many?”

Poor Kaylie, who had been trying to interpret Erestor’s lesson into words the rest of them could relate to, sighed. “Think of Eru as God with a big ‘G’ and the Valar as gods with a little ‘G,’” she began and then shook her head before turning to Erestor. “Hir-nin, perhaps it would be best to end here for the day.”

Erestor glanced around the room and then nodded with his own sigh. “Yes, Idhrendes, I believe that would be best. It is almost time for the midday meal as well. We can meet again this afternoon to begin your study in Sindarin.”

There were several groans from around the room, and Kaylie shook her head. “I believe my friends are still adjusting to everything here, so may we begin again tomorrow?”

Erestor frowned for a moment but then nodded. “Very well. I will trust your judgment in this.” He then bowed and left the room in which they had been studying.

Elise breathed a sigh of relief. Her head was already full of information. Anything more would probably cause it to explode. She moved her messy parchment out of the way and placed her arms upon the table. “I’m afraid you’ve got your work cut out for you, Kaylie,” she half apologized. “I feel like I only understood about half of what he was saying.”

“That’s more than me,” Alexis muttered with her head still on the table. “I didn’t get any of it.”

“Same,” her sister added with a lifted hand. “Is it time for recess yet? I was good at recess.”

Kaylie sighed but nodded. “Yes, you can explore for now if you like, but be warned, some of the elves may avoid you or be wary around you. And remember our story,” she added as Ashlan and Alexis zipped out of the room.

“Why would the other elves avoid us besides the fact that we don’t speak the language,” Elise asked curiously.

“Well, as part of our story, we’re supposed to be Avarin elves,” Kaylie reminded before thinking over her answer. “I guess you could say that a long time ago, some of the Avarin elves went to the Dark Side. So, I wouldn’t be surprised if the elves here are suspicious of us.”

“Well, hopefully they will quickly learn that we aren’t a bunch of pointy eared Darth Vaders,” Camilla commented before glancing out the nearby window. “Well, if we’re free for the day, then I want to go look through the gardens.”

“There’s a big surprise,” Christin commented with a laugh. “I’m surprised you stayed away from the flowers this long!”

Camilla shrugged and began to head for the door. “I’ll come with you,” Elise called after her, but Grayson grabbed her hand before she could move.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere alone,” he stated firmly with a shake of his head.

“She won’t be alone,” Camilla pointed out with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for her. We are friends, you know.”

Grayson looked at Camilla and then at Elise. “I’ll be fine, Grayson,” Elise assured him with a smile as she pulled her hand away.

Grayson frowned but nodded. “Alright,” he relented.

“Besides,” Adrien added as he clapped his friend on the shoulder, “I’ve been suffering from an overdose of estrogen. We need to get away from them while we can. Let’s go find the training grounds and see what we’re in for.”

With her brother occupied, Elise turned and followed Camilla out of the room.

“I’m curious about what flowers we’ll find here,” Camilla commented with excitement as she held her dress up while they walked down the hallway.

Elise smiled at her friend. “I am surprised you could restrain yourself from looking at them for this long,” she joked, echoing Christin's earlier words.

“It wasn’t easy,” Camilla assured her with a laugh. “Luckily, I could see some of them from the window, so I am pretty sure that they have lilacs at least. But, I am sure that there must be different flowers as well,” she added before tripping over her skirt slightly.

Elise caught her friend’s arm to steady her and looked down at Cami’s skirt. “I guess neither you nor Christin were able to fix your dresses,” she asked and felt a bit bad that the dress she was wearing fit just fine on her taller frame.

“We didn’t even bother to try,” Camilla responded with a huff. “We’re used to sewing with machines, Elise, and we didn’t even do that much sewing. Hand sewing is a bit beyond us, but I suppose at least one of us will wind up learning while we’re here. Otherwise, all three of us will be tripping over our skirts for the foreseeable future.”

“Maybe new dresses can be made for you,” Elise suggested as they reached the outside door and turned right to follow one of the stone paths that should lead them towards the gardens.

“I suppose so,” Camilla agreed, sounding rather unconvinced. “I’m not sure how that would work, though. I mean we don’t have any money to buy material, and where would we get material to begin with? I don’t think there are any shops in Rivendell.”

Elise thought it over for a moment and shook her head. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Maybe there are travelling merchants that bring stuff to sell, but even then, we wouldn’t have money to buy things.” She sighed a bit dejectedly. “I guess we’re total charity cases for now, huh?”

Camilla nodded but then perked up. “We are, but it won’t last forever. Once we actually know what the heck we’re doing, I’m sure we can find something to do with ourselves. As Ashlan would say,” she began as she threw an arm around Elise, “we’re modern independent women, and we can take care of ourselves one way or another!”

Elise laughed at that, feeling better. “That is exactly what Ashlan would say, what she probably has already said.” She then took more notice of where along the path they were. “It seems we have arrived.”

Camilla immediately stepped eagerly forward to begin examining the beds of flowers. “Oh, look! There are camellias,” she exclaimed happily as she spotted the flowers.

“Then you are in luck,” Elise replied with a smile, knowing they were Cami’s favorite flower.

“There are irises as well, and there are the lilacs that I could see from our window,” her friend declared as she moved carefully through the garden.

“Are you sure it’s the same one,” Elise asked as she turned towards the building and tried to orient herself. “I think our room is on the other side. So, maybe there are more gardens.”

“Imladris has several gardens,” a voice from behind her commented and she whirled around to see Glorfindel standing just a few feet away and watching them.

“Oh,” Elise cried, startled. “Hi! I mean… hello,” she corrected herself and then felt even more foolish for bothering. After their talk yesterday, she wasn’t sure what to say to him. Something like “sorry for making you wait nine thousand years, but I’m not looking for a boyfriend at the moment” just didn’t seem right.

Glorfindel bowed as Cami returned to Elise’s side. “Good day, Tuinith. I apologize for startling you.”

“Tu…i…nith,” Elise tried to repeat as a question. “I am sorry. I don’t know what that means,” she replied as she hung her head, feeling rather stupid.

Glorfindel looked a bit puzzled for a moment. “It is the Sindarin name that your friend chose for you, is it not?”

“Oh,” she replied, remembering the night before when Kaylie had given all the new elves their names. “I… uh… yes. I just didn’t know that’s how it was said.”

“Would you prefer me to call you by another name,” he asked as his gaze flicked to Cami. “Perhaps the one that your companions use?”

“No,” Elise quickly assured him. “Tuinith is fine. I should get used to answering to it. I mean we’re probably going to be here a while, right,” she added with a bit of an awkward laugh.

“Elise, breathe,” Cami whispered to her in English. “You’re not alone. I’m right here, okay? Just take a couple of deep breaths and calm down,” she added with an encouraging smile.

Elise nodded and followed her friend’s advice. She took a couple of deep breaths before turning back to Glorfindel who looked mildly concerned. “You may call me Tuinith if you wish. I do not mind, Glorfindel,” she said once more with a small tentative smile.

He returned the smile before repeating his name more slowly. “Glorfindel,” he corrected her pronunciation. “Or if you like, you may call me Laurefindil. That is my name in Quenya, and I will answer to either.”

“Quenya,” Elise asked with a tilt of her head. “What is that?”

“Another of the elven tongues, specifically that of Valinor in ancient days now long passed,” Glorfindel answered as he turned to look to the west.

“So, I need to learn another language as well,” Elise asked, and even she could hear the mild panic in her voice. They hadn’t even started the first set of language lessons!

Glorfindel seemed to recall himself and turned back to her. “No, you do not,” he replied with a slight amused look in his eyes. “You may find it useful one day, but Quenya is mostly confined to records. Few speak it now in Middle-Earth.”

“Oh, so it’s like Latin,” Elise stated with joy at having finally made a connection to something she might understand. When Glorfindel gave her a questioning look, she quickly deflated. Of course, he would not know what Latin is. “It is a language from where we’re from,” she explained indicating Cami as well. “It’s really old, and no one speaks it any longer. It’s only used in medical,” she began and then shook her head, “healing and other things of that nature.”

“I see,” Glorfindel answered with a nod. “Then the two are similar, though I would not say that no one speaks Quenya any longer. Those across the sea still do, I am sure, but you need not concern yourself with that for the present,” he added as he shook off some sort of melancholy that had seemed to overtake him once more. “However, if you wish I would be happy to help you practice Sindarin while you learn.”

Elise shook her head vigorously. “No, that would be terrible! I would sound so stupid,” she said, horrified by the idea. She remembered how Mark would always laugh at her as she tried to practice her Spanish.

He seemed surprised by her vehement rejection but quickly recovered. “If you do not wish it, then I will accept your choice, of course. It is only that I remember learning Sindarin, and I found that practicing with someone who already spoke the language made it easier.”

“Then, Quenya is your first language,” Elise guessed.

“Yes, which is why I offered,” he returned with a nod before turning towards Cami. “I would be happy to help your friends as well. You are Lothil, yes?”

“Wow, it really sounds much nicer when you say it correctly,” Cami replied with a smile. “And don’t worry about me,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I’m sure you don’t really want twelve strangers bellowing at you in butchered Sindarin.”

“That would be a bit difficult,” Glorfindel admitted looking a bit uncomfortable at the thought.

Cami laughed lightly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll settle for being shown all the flowers this place has to offer while you and Elise talk.”

Glorfindel bowed to her. “It would be my pleasure to do so, Lothil,” he stated before motioning for them to proceed down the path they were on. “If you will follow me, I will take you to the east garden. It is the largest, and I believe you will find much there to gladden your heart.” He then turned to Elise. “Will you walk with me?”

Elise nodded, and the two continued down the path with Cami behind them. She had the uncomfortable feeling of being on a chaperoned date, but she tried to shake it off. Instead, she tried to think of some topic of conversation. Before she could decide on one, Glorfindel broke the silence that had fallen.

“Tuinith, may I speak truthfully with you,” he asked in a rather serious tone that set Elise’s heart racing.

“Yes,” she answered quietly.

“I know that you and your friends have found yourselves in a strange situation and that all that occurred to you yesterday came as a shock,” he began before sighing. “But I do not wish for us to be uncomfortable with one another. I wish for us to be friends as you are with those that came with you. I will not ask anything more of you.”

Elise was not sure if she believed him. He certainly seemed to wish for more the day before, but she did agree that she didn’t like how uncomfortable things were, especially if they were going to be seeing a lot of each other, which was probably going to be the case. “Thank you,” she simply said and left it at that.

After another moment he broke their silence again. “I understood that you and your friends were beginning your lessons with Erestor today, so I was surprised to see you and Lothil in the garden.”

Elise couldn’t help but laugh. “Poor Erestor,” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t think he quite knew what he was getting into when he volunteered to teach us. Only Kaylie and Emma seem to know what he is talking about, and Kaylie convinced him that we were not going to get any further today. I feel bad for her, too. She’s stuck trying to explain everything all over again in ways we can actually understand.”

“You did not understand his lesson,” the elf asked as they came around the corner of one of the buildings.

“No,” Elise answered with a shake of her head. “I couldn’t even take proper notes.”

“Had you no writing materials,” Glorfindel asked, clearly confused by her statement.

“I did, but I do not know how to use them,” she admitted as she looked down at the path in front of her feet. “We have different… instruments that we use, so I only succeeded in smearing ink all over my paper.”

Glorfindel remained silent for a moment. “Perhaps it would be best if Erestor began with that, then,” he said more to himself before turning to look back at Cami. “Here we are, Lothil, and now you may enjoy all the flowers you wish,” he stated with a smile.

“And I certainly will,” Cami replied happily before joining Elise for a moment. “Do not worry. I will not go too far from you. Just call if you need me,” she said in English before squeezing Elise’s hand. She then hurried off to see the various blooms that the elven city had to offer.

“Your friend truly does love flowers,” he commented with amusement at Cami’s reaction.

“Yes, she does,” Elise agreed with a warm smile for her friend.

“And you? You do not love the flowers as she does,” Glorfindel asked as he turned his piercing blue eyes upon her.

“I like flowers,” Elise answered as she turned away from those eyes. “I do not know as much about them as Cami does, though. I think she must know every flower and every meaning that goes with it. If there are any new flowers here for her to discover, then she will be very happy.”

“And what would make you happy in Imladris,” Glorfindel asked, and she turned to look at him in surprise. “No, I should not have asked that,” he said with a shake of his head. “Forgive me.”

Elise did not reply immediately. Instead, she gave some serious thought as to the answer to his question. What would make her happy here? What would have made her happy at home? She wasn’t sure. Perhaps finishing college and getting a job so that she could support herself instead of living with Grayson in his small studio apartment would have made her happy. Perhaps that was the key. Perhaps she would be happiest if Grayson was happy. “Do not worry about it,” she finally said quietly. “I cannot answer your question anyway because I don’t know the answer.”

“Still, it was not right of me to ask such a thing of you,” he chastised himself before falling into a short silence. He then turned back to her and asked, “What was your lesson on this morning? Is there anything that I can help you understand better?”

Elise thought about it for a moment. This was certainly safer conversational territory, but she had to really think of the answer. “Erestor was trying to teach us about Eru, the Valar, and the Maiar,” she said, but it sounded more like a question.

Glorfindel nodded. “That is the best place to begin. Do you have any questions about them?”

“Probably,” Elise answered a bit hesitantly. “Eru created everything or at least all of the people, right, and the Valar created Arda? The Valar and the Maiar are the same, and they have some other name as well?”

Glorfindel looked at her for a moment and then shook his head. “Not quite,” he answered as they slowly walked through the flowers that Cami was still happily examining. “Eru is the Father of All, the Creator, the One. From his thought he created the Ainur. The Ainur with the greatest power are the Valar, and those with lesser power are the Maiar. Eru taught the Ainur music, and he used the music they made to give shape to Arda. He also created Elves and Men.”

Elise nodded as Kaylie’s earlier comment about God versus gods came back to her. It made a bit more sense now. “So, the Valar and the Maiar together are the Ainur, and all of them helped to make Arda by creating music that Eru used?”

“Yes,” he answered with a smile.

“And as far as power goes,” she said holding out her hand where it was even with the top of her head. “Eru is at the top, and then the Valar,” she said moving her hand slightly down, “the Maiar,” she said moving her hand down again, “and then Elves, Men, and everyone else,” she finished moving her hand down a final time.

“Exactly,” he agreed with a nod.

“Perhaps you should teach us instead,” Elise stated triumphantly, feeling a bit accomplished at having finally understood.

He shook his head. “Erestor has much more experience teaching such things while I train our soldiers, but I will be happy to speak to you of your lessons any time I am available,” he said as he glanced up at the sky. “I am afraid that I must leave you now, however, as I have duties to which I must attend. It was a pleasure to talk with you, Tuinith. Farewell,” he said before bowing.

“Good-bye,” Elise returned with a nod, and she watched him turn and walk away back down the path.

“So, how did it go,” Camilla asked as she joined her.

“It was a bit awkward but not too bad,” Elise answered after a moment. “What do you think?”

“Of him,” Camilla asked, and Elise nodded. She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s too soon to say. He seems like a nice enough guy thus far, a bit awkward, like maybe he isn’t used to just talking to people.”

Elise nodded again. “Yeah. I wonder if he has a lot of friends. He said that he wanted to be my friend and that he wouldn’t ask me for anything else.”

“Well, that’s good, right? It means that you can just get to know one another like Lord Elrond suggested,” Camilla stated, sounding pleased that Elise had taken her advice, which had been the same as the elf lord’s.

“Yeah, but I don’t really believe him,” Elise confided with a sigh as they turned and began to head back to the main house of the city. “I mean it’s so obvious that he does want more.”

“Well, at least maybe he won’t try to force you into anything,” her friend replied after a moment. She then rubbed her forehead. “This whole soulmate thing is a bit much, isn’t it?”

“You’re telling me,” Elise exclaimed with a shake of her head. “And I just happened to be the lucky person to find mine first. It would have been better if it were Kaylie. She probably could have handled it.”

“Maybe, but she wasn’t, and you were. So, now you’re stuck dealing with the slightly awkward blonde supermodel,” Camilla joked as they neared the entrance to the building.

“Supermodel,” Elise repeated with a lifted eyebrow. “Is he really that good looking?”

“Have you not seen him,” Camilla asked incredulously. “He’s got the face of a marble statue, hair straight out of a shampoo commercial, and the body of an Olympic athlete. He’s a bit too muscular for my taste, but to each their own,” she finished with a shrug. “That’s not to mention that he’s nearly as tall as Adrien.”

“I hadn’t really noticed,” Elise replied a bit lamely. She’d had a lot more than Glorfindel’s appearance on her mind since yesterday.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter too much, but it is certainly a bonus,” Camilla commented with a grin. “And, if you decide to be friends with him, you don’t have to worry. I’ll always be willing to go with you. It’ll be like college all over again, including taking the classes that we don’t understand!”

“I wouldn’t want to do that to you,” Elise argued as they entered the building they had left earlier.

“It’s not a problem,” Camilla assured her with an affectionate smile. “You’re like a sister to me, Elise, and that’s saying something, considering I already have two. So, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. Besides, it’s going to be me or Grayson, and between the two of us, I think I have a better shot of taking down Glorfindel if the need arises, don’t you,” she asked stopping in her tracks and putting up her fists in a fighting pose.

Elise laughed loudly at her friend. At 5’7”, Cami and her sisters were the short ones of their rather tall group of friends and were sometimes referred to as the munchkins of the pack. Her height made her a good four inches shorter than Elise and at least that much again than Glorfindel. The thought of her willowy friend defending her against the blonde was extremely comical. “I have no doubt that you would lay him flat with one hit if you could actually reach him,” she returned once she could speak.

Camilla looked highly pleased with her success at putting Elise more at ease, and the two continued down the hallway they had entered in better spirits. They soon found that their friends were in the dining hall for the midday meal and joined them.

Elise spent the rest of the day chatting with her friends and hearing about the things they had discovered in their wanderings through Rivendell. Adrien and Grayson had found the training grounds and had been impressed by the skill the Elves had shown in their swordsmanship. Alexis and Ashlan had never made it to the training grounds as they had been distracted by the Elves at the archery range, which they had reached first. Kaylie and Emma had talked with Erestor about their lessons, and the others had simply wandered about to try to get their bearings in this new place.

The following day, she was surprised to find how well she grasped Erestor’s history lesson, and she was pleased to note the looks of approval and surprise both from the Elf and her friends. It seemed that her talk with Glorfindel had helped her put things into context, and she felt much more confident about moving forward with her Elvish education.

Through the rest of that first week, Elise and the rest of her friends began to settle in at Rivendell and, as Caitlyn put it “put their college thinking caps back on”. She had to agree with that and Camilla’s earlier observation that it would be just like college. To an extent, it really was. They had lessons in the morning, broke for lunch, and further lessons in the afternoon. Their evenings were spent in discussion over what they had learned that day. Luckily, Erestor had the patience of a saint and began their second day with penmanship lessons.

After the first week, they added training to their list of activities. Unfortunately, at least for Alexis, Ashlan, and the others who were anxious for more hands-on experience, this was rather limited to endurance training. Before they were ever allowed to touch a weapon, they had to build up their strength and stamina.

For Adrien and his sisters, this was not too difficult. Even though they were still human and did not possess the natural physical gifts of the Elves, they were all extremely athletic. Adrien had even owned his own gym, and the three had regularly gone on hikes or mountain climbing. Riley struggled a little, being out of practice from her days as their college volleyball team’s captain, but she soon regained all her former fitness.

Emma struggled the most. She had never been athletic despite being healthy. “This human body is no better than the last one when it comes to stuff like this,” she said in frustration as she ran a hand through her sweat-soaked curly brown hair.

Kaylie, who was usually on the same level as Emma when it came to athletics, found that her new Elven body was much more willing to run for miles than her human one had been, and run for miles it did. Glorfindel was truly a Spartan when it came to training, but like Kaylie, all the new Elves found that their bodies were quite capable of keeping up with him.

Eventually, it became clear that Emma just wasn’t physically capable of keeping up with the rest of them, and she begged Glorfindel to let her off. He reluctantly agreed after she said, “I have no intention of going anywhere dangerous, and if danger can reach me in Lord Elrond’s library, then we’re all doomed anyway.” After that, she began to help Erestor while the rest of them trained. The Elf appreciated her fine penmanship and was happy for the assistance.

After three months, they finally moved on to weapons training, and although they would use wooden swords for almost everything, they were still given real swords as well. “You will need to grow used to the feel and weight of the blade you wield just as you had to grow accustomed to the leather,” Glorfindel explained as he handed her a sword.

The leather armor she was wearing suddenly felt ten times as heavy as it was as Elise took the sword from him. It was heavy and cold in her hand, and all she could think about was the fact that this sword was this world’s version of a gun. The thought made her stomach twist, and she quickly tried to hand the sword back to him. “I cannot,” she said with a shake of her head.

Glorfindel looked at her with confusion. “I know it is much heavier than the wooden sword, but you will adjust to it,” he assured her.

“No, I will not,” Elise returned firmly as she once more tried to hand it back to him. “Please, take it.”

“You need it for your training,” the elf returned with a frown.

“Then I do not want to train any longer,” Elise returned as she dropped the sword at his feet. She then turned and fled as quickly as she could towards her room. She’d had enough violence in her life already and had no desire to add to it. She’d been reluctant to start the training to begin with, but she’d felt that she had no choice. Now she wished that she would have quit alongside Emma.

She must have grown faster than she realized, or perhaps, surprise had given her the edge, for she had almost reached the main building of the city before Glorfindel seized her arm from behind and brought her to a halt. “What is the meaning of this, Tuinith? Did you not hear me calling for you?”

Elise turned and saw his jaw tightening, a clear sign that he was angry. They had had disagreements in some of their talks over the last three months, and she had quickly learned to read the signs of annoyance in him just as she had with any guy she spent time with. It was a matter of survival to her. “Let me go,” she said as she pulled on her arm.

“First, tell me why you ran away from training,” he returned as he took a deep breath. “Are you willing to simply throw away the last three months of hard work that you and others have put into it?”

“You don’t understand,” she said a bit feebly as tears began to gather in her eyes.

“Then help me to understand,” Glorfindel reasoned with her as his frustration grew once more.

Elise simply shook her head as memories of other angry faces and harsh words began to ring out in her head. All she wanted to do was return to her room, curl up in her bed, and wait for the memories to pass. “I can’t,” she said still shaking her head. “Let me go,” she repeated in a louder voice as she tried to tug her arm free once more.

“I will not. You owe me an explanation for your actions,” he replied, and his grip remained firm around her wrist.

Elise looked up at him to protest once more, but at that moment she saw her brother quickly approaching from behind Glorfindel, and what followed only sent her deeper into her inner darkness.

Chapter Text

Grayson Edwards was not overly fond of being an Elf or of living in Rivendell. His long silver hair was inconvenient in the extreme, and when he’d threatened to take the first available knife to it, all he’d gotten was a lecture from Kaylie regarding Elf culture. So, he’d relented, and his sister and female friends had all taken turns braiding his hair. After three months, though, he was pretty sure he could braid his own hair in his sleep.

The history lessons were difficult. He had no point of reference, and the setup here was just strange and foreign. The language lessons were a little better but only because they were surrounded by people speaking it all the time. It was hard not to pick up certain things when you heard them several times a day. The fact that Elise was having the occasional study session on the side with Glorfindel did not help anything.

Grayson did not like him. The rest of the city praised him to the sky, and, if you believed Caitlyn, they often sang songs about his great deeds. Still, he did not like Glorfindel. The Elf had made a poor impression upon him, and the two had been having a cold war between them ever since. They avoided each other as much as possible, and both seemed happy to continue doing so, which was why Grayson had rather mixed feelings about their training.

Training certainly meant more of Glorfindel in his life, something he definitely could do without, but it also meant time outside away from stuffy books and constant lessons. When they began with endurance training, he breathed a sigh of relief. Running he could do. He was even good at it, and under the clear skies of the Elven valley he ran until his frustrations lessened.

But everything came crashing down around his ears the day they began their weapons training. He was already tense, knowing he would be dealing with Glorfindel, but luckily the blonde Elf had paired him with another of the soldiers for training. He was clear across the training field from him, but it also meant that he was quite far away from Elise, which is how he missed her running off at first.

“Where is Elise,” he called out to the others as soon as he realized that she was missing.

“She ran off back towards the house,” Caitlyn called back before adding, “Glorfindel went after her.”

Grayson immediately dropped his weapon and went after the pair even as his training partner called out after him. If Elise had run off, it could only mean that she was upset, and the only person that had been near her was Glorfindel. If that Elf had done anything to upset or hurt her, he would never forgive him. Elise had already suffered enough for one lifetime. With those thoughts in mind, he sprinted after the pair as fast as his long legs would take him through the trees.

When he finally caught up with them outside of the main building of Rivendell, what he saw made his blood boil. Glorfindel had his sister by the wrist, and she was frantically trying to get away from him.

“Let me go,” Elise cried out.

“I will not. You owe me an explanation for your actions,” the Elf replied with agitation clear in his voice.

Grayson did not wait to hear anything else. He sprinted to his sister’s side and jerked her arm from Glorfindel’s grasp. “Take your hands off her! She doesn’t owe you anything,” he practically growled out as he pulled Elise to his chest in a tight embrace.

“This does not concern you, Alachon,” Glorfindel said as he folded his arms across his chest.

Grayson maneuvered himself so that he was standing in front of Elise. “She is my sister. Anything that concerns her concerns me,” he returned with a glare.

“Then perhaps you can explain to me why she left her training session today without any kind of explanation,” Glorfindel replied with an angry huff.

“She does not have to explain anything to you,” Grayson spat. He was tired of everyone acting like Elise belonged to this guy just because of some weird markings on their hands.

“Since I am her instructor, she does owe me a reason for her unacceptable behavior,” the Elf stated in a lower voice. “I would require the same of anyone that I was training, and she must learn that she cannot run away from me any time that we disagree about something,” he added as he ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

So, they had disagreed before? Why had Elise never told him? How many times had Glorfindel held her by the wrist before now? “She does not need to continue training if she does not want to,” he said as his blood began to boil once more. “I will protect her.”

“You will not always be with her, and you cannot protect her all of the time,” Glorfindel argued in a raised voice.

Grayson’s jaw clenched, and for a moment all he could see were images of Elise bleeding or bruised and lying in a hospital bed. He had failed to protect her then. He would not fail again. Before he even knew what he was doing, his right fist collided with Glorfindel’s left eye, and his left fist quickly followed, landing on the Elf’s right jaw.

He managed to land one more hit to the blonde’s stomach before a commanding female voice called out to them, “Cease this instant!”

Grayson made the mistake of turning towards the voice, and in an instant, Glorfindel had him pinned to the ground, but the Elf did no more than hold him in place, though he was none too gentle about it. Grayson turned back to the voice once more to see a furious Lady Arwen and a rather frightened Emma.

“Release him, Glorfindel,” Arwen commanded as she came towards them, and in that moment, Grayson could honestly say that she looked like the descendent of kings and queens. If he remembered anything from those history lessons with Erestor, she was just that.

“I cannot, hiril-nin,” Glorfindel answered as he shook his head. “He has attacked me and may mean you harm.”

“I would never harm a lady,” Grayson defended himself as he glared up at the Elf.

“I cannot trust you,” the blonde returned with his own glare. “A few moments ago, I would not have suspected you to be one to attack a fellow Elf, but I was proven incorrect in my judgment of your character. I will not misjudge you again.”

“That’s rich coming from you when you’re the one that held my sister by the arm against her will,” Grayson replied through gritted teeth.

“Emma, will you please see to your friend,” Arwen said in a much softer voice before turning back to the two ellyn. “I will not repeat myself, Glorfindel.”

Glorfindel huffed angrily, but he released Grayson and stood up before taking several steps away from him.

Grayson stood and hurried to Elise’s side. She was kneeling on the ground with her hands over her ears while Emma tried to talk to her. When Grayson reached her, she jerked away from him. “Get away from me,” she screamed.

Grayson took several steps back as if she had struck him, and he looked at Emma in confusion. The quiet girl still looked rather shaken, but she was quickly recovering from her shock. “How could you do that in front of her, Grayson,” she asked with disappointment and disapproval mixed in equal parts in her voice.

That’s when it finally began to sink into him just what he’d done. He’d lost his temper, and he’d attacked someone. He’d done something he’d sworn never to do. He’d acted just like his father. He looked down at his hands and removed the fingerless leather gloves he had donned for training. Part of his right hand was already purpling and swollen, and there were flecks of blood on the fingers of his left hand. He looked up at Glorfindel to see the Elf’s left eye was also bruising and swelling while his lip was split and bleeding. How many times had he seen those same injuries on his sister? He held his hands up in front of him as if seeing them for the first time. “I…,” he tried, but what could he say?

Arwen gave a small gasp of surprise but then shook her head. “You will both come with me,” she ordered before turning to Emma who had finally managed to get Elise back on her feet. “Will you be able to bring her to my father’s study,” she asked gently as she looked over Elise.

“Yes, hiril-nin,” Emma answered with a nod before placing an arm around Elise’s back. “I believe that I can.”

“Then let us go,” Arwen declared before turning and leading the way into the nearby building.

Glorfindel immediately followed her. Emma led Elise inside next, and Grayson brought up the rear, feeling rather empty except for the strong disgust he held for himself. As they neared the elf lord’s study, he began to worry about what the consequences of his actions would be. Would he be locked away somewhere away from Elise? Would Lord Elrond kick him out of Rivendell altogether? Would Elise even speak to him again after this? That last thought was the worst of all.

Once Arwen reached the door, she knocked and then opened it. “Ada, I apologize for disturbing you, but there is a situation that needs your immediate attention.”

The elf lord must have accepted her explanation, for a moment later Grayson followed the others into Lord Elrond’s office. He watched as Emma led Elise to a couch on the left. His sister looked like an empty shell, and it was at least partially his fault. His attention was called back as Lord Elrond addressed them.

“Now, tell me Arwen, what has occurred,” the elf lord asked as he gave a pointed glance at Glorfindel’s face and then shifted his gaze to Grayson’s hands. “Though, I believe I can surmise the basic facts.”

“All I know, Ada, is that I found these two in the middle of a fight just outside,” the lady responded as she took a place next to her father who was standing behind his desk.

Lord Elrond nodded and then turned back to Grayson and Glorfindel. “Sit,” he commanded. He then turned to Emma and Elise. “Emma, is Tuinith injured,” he asked as he approached the other two ladies.

Grayson took his seat as Emma shrugged a bit helplessly. “She does not seem to be hurt, hir-nin, though she may have a bruise on her arm.”

Glorfindel groaned, and Grayson turned to see the Elf with his head in his hands. “I hurt her,” he muttered to himself before switching into some other language that Grayson did not recognize. Still, he could tell that the blonde was feeling just as horrible about hurting Elise as he was.

“Emma, please take Tuinith to the healing house,” Lord Elrond instructed quietly. “Have Silmariel give her a calming draught. I will check on her as soon as I am finished here.”

“Yes, hir-nin,” Emma answered before gradually helping Elise up off the couch and out of the study.

Once the two were gone, Lord Elrond took his seat behind the desk. “Given the state that poor elleth is in, which I can only assume was somehow caused by this event, I trust that both of you feel thoroughly ashamed of your actions.”

Grayson nodded and hung his head. He was at fault, and he would accept whatever punishment the elf lord saw fit to hand down to him. He begged whatever deity might hear him, though, that he would not be separated from Elise.

“Glorfindel, will you please explain what happened,” Lord Elrond asked, though it was more of an order than a question.

“Yes, hir-nin,” Glorfindel answered with a bowed head. “Tuinith and her friends were scheduled to begin their weapons training today. However, when I presented her with a sword, she seemed to panic. She tried to hand it back to me, but I told her that she would need it for her training. She then declared that she no longer wished to train before dropping the sword at my feet and dashing back towards the main house. I followed and called after her, but she would not heed me. So, when I was close enough, I grabbed her by the wrist to halt her,” he admitted with a dejected sigh. “I asked her to explain why she had run away, why she always runs away if we disagree. She would not say, so I refused to release her. Alachon then joined us. He broke my grip upon his sister’s arm, claimed that she did not have to explain anything, and that he would protect her. I replied that he would not always be able to do so, and he attacked me. Lady Arwen found us shortly afterward, and I held him in place as I did no longer trust him not to harm your daughter.”

“Alachon, has Glorfindel spoken truly,” Lord Elrond asked with a lifted eyebrow.

“Yes, Lord Elrond,” Grayson answered quietly as he turned his eyes from the elf lord to his desk.

“And can you provide any reason for your actions or your sister’s,” the elf lord continued, with growing displeasure clear in his voice.

Grayson turned thoughtful as he thought about Elise. “Elise detests violence and confrontations of any kind, even mild arguments. I was actually a bit surprised that she agreed to the training to start with, but she had talked about learning self-defense before. So, I did not question it. Something must have upset her,” he finished before realizing exactly what it was. “The sword,” he groaned as he placed his head in his hands. “It was the sword. Please, do not blame her, hir-nin. I should have realized what was likely to happen, but I thought she was better. How could I have been so stupid,” he exclaimed as he pounded his fist on the arm of his chair. He winced in pain. He’d forgotten how injured his hands were.

“Why would a sword have upset her so badly,” Glorfindel asked in confusion.

Grayson shook his head. “It’s my fault. I gave her a…,” he paused. He didn’t want to try to explain the concept of a gun. “I gave her a weapon once to defend herself. It hit the other person. She thought that she had killed him, and she swore she would never touch another weapon again. Even the sight of one used to upset her, but she went to a… healer for a while. I thought she had gotten better,” he finished lamely.

“And for your own actions,” the elf lord questioned, but Grayson simply shook his head. “Alachon, you have treated with derision things which are sacred to us, and now you have broken the peace of this valley. Unless you can provide me with an explanation of some kind to your actions, I am afraid that I cannot allow you to remain in Imladris. I will not have someone here who may pose as a danger.”

“No, please, hir-nin,” Grayson begged as his eyes shot up to stare at Lord Elrond. “Please do not separate me from Elise. She is all I have in this world!” Suddenly, he felt like he was fifteen again and begging the state workers to put them in the same foster home. “I swear I will do no harm to anyone. You can keep me locked away if you need to, but do not separate us!”

The elf lord sighed. “I have no desire to separate you from your sister. Nor do I wish to separate Glorfindel from his fëamel. It would be cruel to do either, but I will have no choice if you cannot explain yourself.”

“From whom did Tuinith need to protect herself,” Glorfindel asked in the growing silence.

“My father,” Grayson answered quietly. He never spoke about such things, but if it kept him and Elise together, he’d tell them whatever they wanted to know. “He was violent when he was drunk, and he was drunk quite often. He often beat both of us. That night, though, he went after Elise with a broken bottle. I knew where he kept the weapon and how to open the case. I went for it, and I had every intention of killing him. By the time I reached them, Elise was bleeding, and I realized I needed to get her help. So, I hit him in the head and knocked him out and gave her the weapon. I went to get help, but then I heard her screaming. My father had moved slightly, and she had hit him in the shoulder. She was convinced she had killed him, and she was sobbing. Even though she has a new body, she still wears long sleeves most of the time because she had a terrible scar along her arm from that night.”

“How old were you when that happened,” Arwen, who had remained silent until then, asked sadly.

“Fifteen,” Grayson answered emotionlessly. “I swore after that that I would never let anyone hurt her again, including myself, but just two years ago, she wound up courting a guy that put her in the hospital. I couldn’t protect her then either, and now I’ve turned into my father, losing my temper and hitting people. And I did it in front of her. I’ve failed her so many times, so please, Lord Elrond, do not separate us. I will do whatever you wish.”

The elf lord sighed. “You and your sister have suffered much, Alachon, but you have not yet given me a sufficient reason for your own actions to allow you to remain in Imladris.”

“I believe, hir-nin, that I may now understand what occurred,” Glorfindel surprisingly offered. “Given what Alachon has told us, he has no doubt been waiting for me to attack his sister as her previous suitor did,” the elf stated as his hands clenched into fists. “When he came upon us, it must have appeared that I was doing just that. He is still a stranger to many of our ways, and his experiences have taught him to assume the worst of people. I then furthered the issue by seemingly insulting his ability to protect her when he has long blamed himself for his own inability. Had our experiences and situations been reversed, I cannot say that I would not have done the same.”

“There is something more that you should know, Ada,” Arwen added as she pulled off the glove she wore on her left hand. “He is my fëamel,” she said as she held up her hand for Grayson to see.

The silver-haired elf groaned as he saw what appeared to be a bear standing on its hind legs decorating the back of her hand.

“You are displeased,” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“What? No,” he immediately replied with a shake of his head. “I just wish we could have found out a different way. It’s not the best first impression.”

“Then be thankful that this is not my first impression of you,” she returned before turning to her father. “Ada, knowing this, you cannot banish him from Imladris.”

Lord Elrond stood and moved to the window in silent thought. “I do not like this. I do not see what such a one can offer you, anel,” he said as he passed a hand over his eyes. “Still, I have learned to respect Eru’s will, in this especially. Therefore, you will be confined to a room in the healing house, Alachon. I will attend you and your sister as best I can, but I can only ease your wounds. I cannot fully heal them. You will only find such healing across the sea, and I do not believe you are ready for that journey yet.”

Grayson felt a weight lift from him, and he stood and bowed to the elf lord. “I thank you, Lord Elrond,” he said sincerely.

“You have shown a remarkable lack of restraint on two occasions now,” the elf lord said very seriously. “There cannot be a third time.”

“I understand,” Grayson assured him. “If there is nothing else, I will excuse myself and relocate to a room in the healing house.” When the elf lord nodded, he quickly made his way out of the study and to the room he had been sharing with Adrien. He gathered his few belongings and carried them to the healing house where Silmariel showed him to a quiet room.

For the next four weeks, he saw only Lord Elrond and Silmariel who brought him his meals. In later years, he laughingly referred to that day as his “come to Jesus” moment. Kaylie would usually reply that it was really his “come to Eru” moment with a laugh of her own. But that was far into the future. All he knew at that moment, sitting on his bed in the quiet room of the healing house, was that he could not continue as he was. He had to change. Somehow, he had to change, or he really could become a different version of the father he had so hated.

Chapter Text

Once Grayson had left the room, the remaining three Elves fell into a thoughtful silence. Glorfindel shook his head. He could not believe what Tuinith and her brother had suffered and at the hands of the one who should have cared for them most! He could tell that there was more to the story that they had yet to hear, and he had to wonder why Tuinith had never told him any of this. Perhaps she did not trust him. He sighed.

“Glorfindel,” Lord Elrond said, calling him back to the present. “You should have Silmariel make you a poultice for your eye, but I think it is best if you leave Tuinith in peace for now. Your presence may only upset her further.”

Glorfindel nodded and sighed again. “Perhaps, hir-nin, it would be better if I did not pursue her at all. She has suffered much, and I have only added to her suffering by causing her injury today. We are very different. She is not of our world, and we do not always understand one another,” he finished as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I am afraid, mellon-nin, that is something that you will need to speak to Tuinith about once she has recovered. I cannot advise you in this,” the elf lord responded with obvious sympathy. “If, however, you do choose to continue your pursuit, you will need to make peace with Alachon as well, and I do not know if that is possible. There is darkness in his heart.”

“But it does not rule his heart,” Arwen argued as she turned her attention from the door to her father.

“I wish he were not your fëamel. He is like the sons of Fëanor,” Lord Elrond said with a shake of his head before holding out his hand to his daughter, which she took. “I fear you will come to a bad end, Anel.”

“We should not question what Eru has ordained,” Arwen reminded him gently as she squeezed his hand. “And unlike the sons of Fëanor, he is not consumed with pride. Nor has he made any terrible oath. There is humility and a desire for change in his eyes, Ada. Surely, you could see the deep regret and remorse he feels for his actions.”

“I could, but how long will it last,” the elf lord asked before releasing his daughter’s hand. “I will do what I can for him, Arwen, but it may be beyond my skills. Come, Glorfindel. Let us go to the healing house.”

The blonde nodded and followed his lord through the familiar corridors of his home. Soon, he was sitting in front of Silmariel with a poultice held against his swollen eye.

“It has been quite the day,” the healer commented as she handed her longtime friend a cup of tea. When Glorfindel looked down at it suspiciously, she laughed. “Nothing has been added to it. I promise. It is just tea.”

“Thank you, mellon,” Glorfindel replied as he sipped at the warm drink. After he had finished his tea, he finally had the courage to ask, “How are they?”

Silmariel looked troubled and shook her head. “Only time will tell. Lord Elrond will tend to them. Alachon has some minor injuries to his hands, and Tuinith has a bruise on her wrist. But those will heal quickly.”

“I really did injure her then,” he muttered quietly to himself.

“You could not have meant to do it,” Silmariel commented as she laid a hand upon his shoulder.

“I did not,” Glorfindel agreed with a shake of his head.

“Then it was an accident, and Tuinith will understand. Apologize to her when she is recovered,” the healer said with a squeeze to his shoulder before standing. “I am afraid that there is little more I can do for your handsome face, mellon-nin,” she jested to lighten the mood. “No doubt all the unbonded maidens of Imladris will be clamoring to tend to you in the hopes of discovering that you truly are their fëamel.”

Glorfindel shook his head and grinned at his friend. “Nay, that will not happen again. I think it is well known through the valley that Tuinith is my match, though,” he continued as his smile quickly faded, “we may never be more than a match in word after this.”

“It is not like you to despair, Glorfindel,” Silmariel kindly chastised him. “Have you not always told me to have hope that I, too, will find my match one day when I least suspect it? Now, I will tell you, have hope. Things will work out in their own time. Eru does not make mistakes.”

“Thank you again, Silmariel,” he said as he stood from his seat. “We have been friends for many years, and you have proven yourself a most valuable one on many occasions. This one is no different. I hope one day that I might return the favor,” he said with a bow.

Silmariel waved off his speech. “Be off with you,” she said fondly before leaving him to attend to her duties.

Glorfindel did as he was bid and left the healing house to return to his own room where he could lie on his bed with the poultice over his eye. As he lay there, he could only hope and pray that his friend was correct and that things would work out for the best in time.

By the next morning, Glorfindel thought he’d done quite enough wallowing, and he returned to his duties. When Tuinith’s friends questioned him about what had occurred, he only replied that they had recalled terrible memories that had greatly upset them. He further explained that both Tuinith and Alachon should be left in peace for the time being as they were being tended by Lord Elrond, and he thought it best. Although many of them were unhappy with this answer, they accepted it and returned to their own studies as best as they could though Adrien had given him a rather knowing look at seeing the injuries he bore.

It was several weeks before Glorfindel saw Tuinith. As he was coming around the corner of the well-worn garden path, he spotted her embracing Lothil. Thinking that the two ellith could use some time alone, he turned around and took another way to his destination.

Another week passed before Tuinith finally sought him. “May I speak to you, Glorfindel,” she asked as her friends finished their weapons training for the day, training to which she had yet to return.

“Of course,” he answered before leading the way along one of the more remote paths so that they could speak in private.

“Have you been avoiding me,” she asked quietly after a few moments.

“No,” he answered with a shake of his head. “Lord Elrond thought it best if I kept my distance while you were in the healing house. Since then, I thought it wise if you were the one to begin our conversation when you were ready, if you ever wished to speak to me again.”

“I see,” the raven-haired maiden answered.

“I am terribly sorry for the way I behaved,” Glorfindel stated with all the sincerity he could as he stopped and turned towards her. “And I hope you know that I never meant to injure you.”

“I know,” Elise replied with a nod before sighing. “It is not so easy to forget, though. When you did that, I thought that you were just like Mark, that I was doomed to only attract people that would hurt me.”

“Your former suitor,” he said, and he tried to keep the anger from his voice.

“Yes, Grayson told me that he had explained much of what had happened. He must have been extremely desperate to do that,” she commented before shaking her head. “After he hurt me the first time, Mark also apologized.”

Glorfindel felt as if he had been stabbed. He had quite literally done the same thing as the wretched person that she had courted before. “I am sorry,” he repeated in a whisper before taking a deep breath to calm himself. “If you wish it, I will not pursue you further. You are not from this world, and I should not have placed such expectations upon you.”

“Perhaps,” she agreed with a nod. “But I have thought over many things these last few weeks, and eternity is a long time to be alone. I do not wish to be alone for eternity, and I do not want you to be alone for eternity either. I like you, Glorfindel. While you and Grayson both frightened me, I know that you are nothing like Mark just as he is nothing like our father. When Mark apologized, there was no real sincerity behind it. It was just empty words, but I do need to know something. Why did you hold onto me like that?”

“I did not understand, and you would not explain. So, I could not help you the way that I wished, the way that a fëamel is supposed to do. Why did you not tell me what was wrong,” he asked in turn. If there was any hope for them to have a future together, they had to be open with one another.

“One of the first things that I learned when I got here was that you had been waiting for me for nine thousand years. Whether you or Lord Elrond or anyone else meant to, you placed a lot of pressure upon me. I did not wish to disappoint you when you discovered what an ugly, broken, stupid person Eru had saddled you with,” she replied quietly as she stared at the dirt path beneath their feet.

“You are none of those things,” Glorfindel assured her firmly.

“You only say that because I am your fëamel,” Elise stated with a sad smile.

They had started walking again, and Glorfindel stopped once more to turn to the maiden at his side. “Tuinith, please look at me,” he said softly. If he had dared, he would have put a hand to her face, but he knew that would most likely make her uncomfortable. When she was finally looking at him, he continued. “Before I ever saw the mark on your hand, I saw your eyes, and I was enchanted by them,” he said truthfully. “They are such an unusual color that I have known only two others to share it across both of my lives, a half Avarin father and his son. To my knowledge, only those of Avarin heritage have such dark eyes.”

“I guess that lends credit to our story then,” Elise returned with a small laugh.

“It does,” he agreed before turning serious once more. “My point, however, is that you are beautiful, and anyone who can understand nearly the entire history of a world that is not theirs in three months is intelligent in my eyes. Even if we were not a match, I would still wish to be your friend because you are such an incredible person in my opinion.”

Elise could not help but blush at the praise. “I am not accustomed to such words,” she muttered, but his sharp ears heard her clearly.

“I am sure you will grow used to them in time,” Glorfindel replied with a smile.

They strolled slowly through the woods in silence for a while before Elise spoke again. “Who was it that you know with eyes like mine?”

“Maeglin and his father,” Glorfindel answered with a small sigh.

“Maeglin,” Elise repeated thoughtfully before she gasped. “The guy that destroyed Gondolin,” she exclaimed in horror. “I look like him?”

“No, not at all,” Glorfindel quickly reassured her. “Only your hair and eye color are like his. That is all, and while his eyes were cold and full of anger, yours are full of warmth, especially when you are with the ones you love.”

“So, the resemblance does not pain you,” she asked carefully.

Glorfindel shook his head. “No, it does not. I dealt with my feelings about Maeglin long ago in the Halls of Mandos, and as much as I may not like it, I cannot change that he is a close kinsman of mine.”

“Wait, so you are related to him,” Elise asked with surprise.

“Yes,” Glorfindel said with a nod. “He was the son of Aredhel, and her father was my mother’s brother.”

Elise shook her head. “So, he was your first cousin once removed,” she said more to herself. “He was a close kinsman. What happened with him?”

“I do not like to speak about it. It is one of the greatest betrayals and tragedies of the Elves,” Glorfindel replied honestly as he turned to look at the trees in all their summer glory.

“You know the worst things that have ever happened to me,” Elise reminded him with a small snort.

“You speak truly,” Glorfindel agreed with a nod.

“However, if you really do not want to talk about it, I will not press you. It is only that I know so little about you,” she added with a bit of a frown.

“Maeglin desired the daughter of his mother’s brother, Idril, but she was not his fëamel. He could not accept that. So, when he was captured by Morgoth’s servants, he willingly revealed Gondolin’s location, which had been kept hidden for several hundred years. By that time, Idril had already married her match and had a son. When the hordes of Morgoth attacked the city, Maeglin attempted to kill her son and take her forcefully. Over the course of a few days, the entire city was destroyed. Hundreds of thousands of Elves were slain, including some of my dearest kin. Idril, untrusting of Maeglin had devised a secret way out of the city. As she led the remaining Elves in escape, I acted as the rear guard. One of the many balrogs that had attacked Gondolin caught up with us. I stood my ground and attacked. I slew my enemy but fell with him,” he finished in a quiet voice.

“I am so sorry, Glorfindel,” Elise exclaimed as she squeezed his forearm. “I cannot even imagine how horrifying that must have been. I should not have asked you to recount such a thing.”

The blonde smiled at her. It certainly was a painful event to recount, but he did not mind so much with her hand on his arm. “It was long ago, and as I said before, the pain of those memories was washed away in the Halls of Mandos,” he stated as he placed his hand upon her own.

Elise stopped and took her hand away. “Glorfindel, I really do not want you to get your hopes up too high. I do not know if we will be able to understand each other. I am willing to try, but I want to take things very slowly. I want us to get to know one another before anything else happens,” she said in a rather nervous voice.

Glorfindel nodded his understanding. “I can accept that,” he said firmly. “I only ask that you tell me if I do something that upsets you so that I can correct whatever it was.”

“Well then, first, I will tell you that I have no desire to learn the sword. I have thought about it, and I know that it is not for me. I do wish to learn to protect myself, though, but I cannot think of a way to do it,” she said with obvious frustration.

Glorfindel thought over the issue for several moments. An axe, dagger, or lance would be no better. “Have you thought about learning the bow,” he asked, but she shook her head firmly at the suggestion. “A staff may work for you,” he said after another moment.

“A staff,” Elise repeated with a puzzled frown, “like the one that Gandalf has?”

“You are familiar with Mithrandir,” Glorfindel asked in return and then shook his head. “Of course, he must have appeared in your histories. To answer your question, though, I do not speak of a wizard’s staff. The staff I mean is a solid piece of heavy polished wood, like a taller walking stick. You could defend yourself with it and would be less likely to seriously injure the other party. I warn you, though, it is possible to kill someone with one. Would you be interested in learning more of it?”

Elise thought it over and nodded. “I think it is a good compromise,” she agreed.

“Then I will have to find someone that knows more about it than I do. It is an unusual weapon, but do not worry, I am sure I will be able to locate someone. If not, I will learn it myself and then teach you,” he stated before beginning to think of the various people he could contact regarding the issue.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile which grew. “Now, tell me about what you were like as a child. You grew up in Valinor, right? What did the Two Trees look like?”

Glorfindel returned her smile. “That is a lot of questions. Should I not ask you questions in return?”

“You may,” Elise replied with a nod before grinning up at him. “However, you have lived much longer than I have, so you have more to tell.”

He laughed merrily. “I suppose you are correct,” he agreed with a grin of his own. “Very well. What is that saying that your friend said? Age before beauty?”

Elise laughed as well. “That must have been Erica.”

Glorfindel nodded and began to describe the beauty of Valinor and the Two Trees. He had barely gotten through telling her about his home and parents when they reached the main house and were forced to go their separate ways. He parted with her willingly, knowing in his heart that, as Silmariel had said, things would work out with time.

Chapter Text

Two months had passed since Arwen had found her fëamel fighting with the captain of Imladris’s forces, but she had not seen Alachon since that day. Knowing that he was suffering and that there was nothing she could do for him troubled her, but she knew that her ada was correct. He needed time and space to heal. So, she waited, but when a month had passed since he had left the healing house and he still had not spoken to her, she decided it was time to seek him instead.

As she made her way along one of her favorite paths, she caught sight of a familiar silver braid through the trees. She slowed her steps and cautiously approached. When she was sure that it was indeed Alachon that she had spotted, she quietly joined him.

“It is generally considered rude to eavesdrop on another’s conversation,” she commented quietly as she picked up the faint voices of Glorfindel and Tuinith.

Alachon jumped at the sound of her voice but managed not to make a sound. He placed a hand upon his heart and took several breaths. “Lady Arwen,” he finally greeted her with a bow.

“Do you still not trust Glorfindel,” she asked curiously, ignoring his greeting for the time being.

“Glorfindel and I have spoken, and we understand one another,” he replied as he began to walk further down the path. “I only wished to check on her.”

“Since you have made peace with Glorfindel, might not we come to an understanding,” Arwen asked as she followed him. If he thought she was going to give up easily, then he was sorely mistaken.

He paused in his steps but did not turn towards her. “What understanding can exist between us,” he asked quietly with a shake of his head before moving once more.

Arwen quickened her pace so that she was walking just behind him. “You are my fëamel, and I am yours,” she said evenly. “From what I have heard, I know that you do not believe in such a thing, but I most certainly do. And the marks upon our hands, which only we can see lends credence to my belief as opposed to yours. So, we must come to some agreement regarding this issue.”

By this time, they had reached an opening in the trees which provided a clear view of one of the valley’s waterfalls, and Alachon finally turned to look at her. “What would you have me say, hiril-nin,” he asked with pain and doubt clear in his grey eyes. “I cannot be the person, the…the Elf that you want or need. You deserve someone as perfect as you are.”

Arwen approached him slowly until she was standing only a few feet in front of him. “Do you truly think I am perfect, Alachon,” she questioned with a quirk to her lips. “I am sure that my ada or either of my henair would be happy to give you a list of my faults. Have I not already proven my stubbornness to you in the last five minutes?”

His lips lifted into a half-smile. “I asked Kaylie what the books said about you. I had never bothered to read them. Reading was not something I enjoyed, and there were too many other things to do. She told me that they only mentioned your beauty and wisdom, that of all Elfkind you were the fairest to ever walk the earth save Lúthien, but I do not believe them.”

“Oh,” Arwen asked with a small frown.

“No,” Grayson repeated firmly. “For I cannot imagine that even Lúthien is more beautiful than the maiden before me, which is why you deserve someone better than me. Your ada despises me and rightly so. You saw me attack a respected member of your city! I am only one step above a prisoner, and if I should make another mistake, I will be banished. You should not be burdened with such a person.”

Arwen reached for his hands, and when he did not pull away from her, she took them into her own. “Alachon, you seem to think that because your father’s blood runs through your veins that you are doomed to become as he was, but that is not so.”

“How can you know that for certain,” he asked with a sigh, refusing to meet her eyes. “I have already attacked someone once. What if the next time I lose my temper I hurt Elise or you or someone else that cannot defend themselves?”

“I can assure you that I can and would defend myself,” Arwen declared stoutly. She had trained with Glorfindel long ago and still practiced regularly. “But I do not think I will ever need those skills against you.”

“Why not,” he asked with a shake of his head. “Even I do not know what I am capable of any longer. How can you be so sure?”

“Before I ever knew that you were my match, I asked your companions about you,” Arwen began after stepping away from him slightly to give him some space. “I wished to know why the handsome, silver-haired newcomer had such anger and pain inside of him. You should thank your friends, particularly Adrien. He told me that while you were troubled, he did not know of a better friend or brother in the world, that you always put others before yourself. They all assured me of what a good person you are. They have faith in you, and so do I.”

“It is misplaced,” he argued with a shake of his head before trying to run his hand through his hair and catching his fingers on the braid.

“It is not,” Arwen returned with an amused smile as she watched him pull his hand from his now mussed hair. “You want to change. I can see it in your eyes, and that is what makes you different from your father.”

“I do not know how. I am not even sure if I can,” Grayson said as his shoulders slumped, and he turned away from her and sat down under a nearby tree in a heap.

Arwen knelt next to him. “The desire to change is the perfect place to start, and if you will let me, I will help you.”

“Because you feel tied to me, because of the hideous mark you bear upon your hand,” he said with a snort.

Arwen’s jaw tightened slightly. “I do not consider this mark to be hideous. Long before I ever met or saw you, I knew the person that could see this mark must be an amazing individual, protective and scarred from many battles, and I was right. I wish to help you because you are worthy of my help. There is great potential in you. I can see it, and I want to help you better yourself and reach that potential.”

He shook his head. “I am not sure I believe you, but you may do as you wish,” Grayson said with a sigh.

Arwen grinned at him. “I am glad that you have agreed. One of the first things you should know about me is that I usually get what I want.”

“You must be a rather spoiled princess then,” Grayson said with a small snort.

“I prefer to think of it as deserving and well-loved,” Arwen returned instantly and had the satisfaction of making him laugh.

“I am sure you are correct. Well then, since you are in charge, what do I do first,” Grayson asked as he completely submitted to her arguments.

Arwen shifted so that she was sitting next to him under the tree. “First, we need a goal to work towards. What is it that you want?”

“I only wish to not be like my father,” Grayson replied seriously. “I do not want what happened two months ago to happen again.”

“Then, we need to determine why it happened a first time,” she reasoned as she folded her hands in her lap. “Why did you attack Glorfindel? It was because you thought he was hurting Tuinith, was it not?”

Grayson remained silent for several moments. “It was more than that,” he admitted as he hung his head. “I have thought it over many times, and I could have, should have, approached the situation differently, but I had grown frustrated with my own difficulties. I am used to taking care of myself and Elise. I am used to knowing how to handle any situation that may occur, but here I felt completely helpless. I did not know where I was or even what I was,” he explained as he fingered the pointed tip of his right ear. “The only thing I could do was protect Elise from someone who seemed to be trying to steal her away.”

Arwen thought over his words for several moments. “I think you will find that Glorfindel is a good ellon. There are, in fact, few better. Perhaps you should take the time to get to know him. You may find that he can be as good a friend to you as Adrien is.”

“Adrien is the gold of Mankind,” Grayson replied before shaking his head. “No, he is the mithril of Mankind. I have never known a better man. Why he ever befriended me, I will never know.”

“He is wise for one of the Second Born,” Arwen commented as she thought about the tall broad-shouldered man. “He sees in you the same thing that I do.” Grayson muttered something to himself in his own tongue, but she chose to ignore it. “So, your first step is to try to befriend Glorfindel. It may be that in the future he becomes your brother. Next, continue to learn. The more you learn, the less frustrated you will be since you will then have the knowledge that you need. I will, of course, be happy to answer all questions that you might have. Lastly, we should find a way for you to calm yourself should you be in a similar situation again. What do you usually do when you are angry?”

“Run or strength training,” he replied with a shrug.

“Well,” Arwen began thoughtfully, “you cannot always run around the valley. Training, though, would work.”

“I would not want a weapon in hand at such a time,” Grayson argued with a shake of his head.

Arwen nodded her understanding of his objection. “What of archery? It takes great concentration, and the only thing you will have to hit is the target. It may also serve you well in defending yourself and others in the future.”

He shrugged again. “I am willing to try.”

“That is one of the best traits you can have, a willingness to try, to change,” Arwen commented with a smile. “With that alone, I think you could succeed, but with my help, I know you will.”

Grayson shook his head and laughed. “I feel as though I am at a great disadvantage. I have seriously underestimated you,” he said before standing and stretching his arms above his head. He then turned to head back the way that they had come.

“Where are you going,” Arwen asked curiously as she followed him.

“To talk to Glorfindel. If we are to be friends, I must start there,” Grayson answered with a mischievous glint in his eyes that made Arwen laugh merrily.

“You only wish to interrupt his conversation with Tuinith,” she accused as she walked alongside him.

“Old habits are rather difficult to break,” he commented with a grin before taking off at a run. “Glorfindel,” he yelled loudly as he sprinted down the path. “Arwen says we must become the best of friends, so you have to spend all your time with me and not my sister!”

Arwen was nearly doubled over with laughter as she did her best to follow the silver-haired elf, but joy filled her heart. She had seen something in Alachon’s eyes that had not been there before. She had seen hope.

Chapter Text

Camilla knelt in one of the smaller gardens and tended to the plants in front of her. It had been two years since they had first arrived in Imladris, and she and her friends had adjusted as much as they could to their new lives and limbs, in some cases, in that time. But so much had changed that she felt disquieted and terribly lonely.

Caitlyn had soon ingratiated herself with Lindir after discovering the music hall, and she now spent many hours with the Elf learning songs of ancient days and practicing upon any instrument he was willing to teach her. For a while, Christin had spent more time with her, but several months ago she had begun to help Silmariel in the healing house, and now Camilla rarely saw her.

It was strange. Even after they had finished college, she and her sisters had lived together. They had all had different jobs, but they still saw each other at home. Now, she felt lucky if she saw either of her sisters at mealtimes for more than a few minutes.

She supposed that it was natural for them to develop relationships with the Elves of Imladris now that they could all, except Alexis and Ashlan, speak Sindarin fluently. The sisters had eventually given up on their language lessons, and since they were still human, Erestor had excused them. Even Camilla had made friends with the head gardener and been put to work as soon as he realized that she had skills with plants and flowers.

Without her sisters around, Camilla would normally turn to Elise, but she was happily courting Glorfindel and spent the majority of her time with him. Camilla couldn’t blame her. Glorfindel treated her friend as if she were Elbereth herself, and she did still see Elise when Glorfindel was sent out on assignments by Lord Elrond. Then her friend would sometimes join her in the garden or help Christin and Silmariel in the healing house.

Even Grayson was unavailable most days. He was often at the archery range practicing, and when he wasn’t, he wandered the paths of Imladris with Arwen by his side. Camilla was truly happy for him and his sister. She had never seen either happier, and she had known them both since they were all kids.

Adrien and his two sisters practically lived at the training field, though he had been taking shorter missions recently, which left his sisters restlessly waiting for his return. Kaylie and Emma were usually closeted away with Erestor or some of the scribes poring over old documents. Erica had taken up painting in place of photography, and Riley flitted here and there, doing whatever she thought needed to be done most. Camilla had even caught her sweeping out the room that she still shared with Elise. She’d simply shrugged and continued working.

The twelve friends had been together as a whole team for two years prior to their sudden transportation, and it seemed odd that now they were drifting apart, finding their own separate places in this new world. But there was a growing sense of restlessness that was spreading throughout her friends, and lately, there had been talk of leaving Imladris one day. Camilla did not wish to leave. She was used to Imladris, and she liked it. It was peaceful, too peaceful for some of her wilder friends it seemed.

“Lothil, are you well,” Arwen asked, breaking her train of thought.

“Oh, yes, hiril-nin,” Camilla answered as she shook herself back to the present, where Arwen was helping her tend to the flowers since Grayson was away with Adrien on a mission of some kind. “Forgive my inattention.”

“There is no need to apologize, Lothil,” Arwen said as she waved her hand dismissively. “Your heart seems to be heavy and troubled, and your mind is full. I hope that you know that you may speak to me openly if you wish.”

Camilla smiled a bit sadly to herself. “That is part of the problem.”

“You do not wish to speak to me,” Arwen asked with a tilt of her head.

“No, it is not that,” Camilla replied with a shake of her head. “It is only the fact that two years ago, I arrived here with my two sisters and nine friends that I considered as brothers and sisters as well because of how close we were. Now, it feels as though a chasm is opening between us. Ashlan and Alexis have mentioned leaving Imladris in passing, and I know that neither Elise nor Grayson will wish to depart. If some of us go and some of us stay, will we ever truly be together again as we once were?”

“Such is the nature of Elves and Men,” Arwen replied with a sympathetic smile. “Your friends are lively women and no doubt find the peace of our valley restricting. They long for adventure, but I do not think that they will find such events as rewarding as they expect. The veil of darkness that often shadow’s Alachon’s heart when he returns from a mission confirms my opinion in this.”

Camilla smiled at the other elf. “I know that I have mentioned it before, but I have to thank you for what you have done for Grayson. I have known him since we were children, and I have never seen him so happy. He is like a new person, and it is all thanks to you.”

“Nay, Lothil,” Arwen protested with a quick shake of her head. “The changes in Alachon are from his own power. I only helped a little,” she added with a quirk of her lips.

“That is not what he has said,” Camilla returned with a bit of a laugh.

“Oh, what does my fëamel say about me when I am not around,” Arwen asked with slightly narrowed eyes, though Camilla could tell that she was teasing.

“He said that right next to wise and beautiful, the books should have put most stubborn elleth in all of Arda,” she revealed with a grin.

Arwen laughed merrily at that. “I did warn him, so he cannot accuse me of hiding the truth from him,” she declared once she had her breath back. When she was calm once more, she turned back to their more serious topic. “Is that all that troubles you, the fact that you seem to be parting ways with your friends?”

Camilla didn’t like the way that Arwen made it sound so simple. It was not as if they were simply beginning new jobs or something like that. This felt much larger, and for some reason, she felt very left behind. Before she could further explain, she heard the sound of quick feet approaching and turned just in time to see a pair of legs fill her vision before she was unceremoniously knocked into the flower bed that she had been tending. She heard a masculine cry as she went sprawling forward. She tried to catch herself with her hands so as not to crush the flowers that were already growing there, and in the process, she twisted her wrist. She winced in pain as she tried to right herself.

“Elladan,” Arwen yelled, and Camilla turned to see the other elleth hurrying to another elf’s side. He was in the process of picking himself up, and Camilla expected Arwen to help him. Instead, the elf surprised her by shouting, “You fool! What were you doing running down the path like an elfling?” She then moved to Camilla’s side. “Are you hurt, Lothil?”

Camilla allowed Arwen to help her to her feet and winced at as she rotated her left wrist. “I believe I may have sprained my wrist,” she commented as she felt around her wrist. It was definitely swollen.

“Allow me,” the ellon said as he joined them and began to remove her glove. “My sister obviously thinks your health is much more important than mine,” he said with a joking smile.

“It is your fault that she is injured in the first place,” Arwen angrily reminded him.

The other nodded but paused a second later as Camilla’s glove came free. His own glove was missing, and he gently ran a finger along the back of her hand. “It is you,” he whispered as a bright smile overtook his face. “It is you,” he exclaimed before laughing happily and picking Camilla up and swinging her around. “This tiny elleth is my fëamel,” he shouted.

Camilla screamed as she was flung around, and her wrist began to throb. “Ow! Ow ! Ow! Put me down,” she demanded in pain. “Are you mad?”

The elf put her back onto the ground but continued to grin at her. “I apologize. I did not mean to cause you further injury,” he said sincerely. “I also did not mean to get blood on your dress,” he added with a frown as he held his hands up, and she could see that he had scraped his hands terribly on the stone of the pathway.

Camilla stepped away from the ellon with a slightly dubious look. The blood on his hands, as little as it was, made her feel ill. “Arwen,” she said as she turned to her friend, “I am going to the healing house to get my wrist wrapped.”

“I will go with you,” the ellon stated still looking quite pleased with everything despite the fact that he was stuck holding his hands up awkwardly due to the scraped skin on his palms.

Arwen shook her head. “Elladan, you have not even introduced yourself,” she scolded before turning to Camilla. “Lothil, this is the less intelligent of my older henair, Elladan. Elladan, this is Lothil. She, her sisters, and several of her friends arrived in the valley two years ago while you and Elrohir were out with the rangers.”

“I see,” Camilla commented with a nod before turning to head for the healing house. “Excuse me.” The sooner she got her wrist tended, the better, and a bit of space from the strange ellon who might be her soulmate was probably a good idea as well.

“Wait, Lothil,” Elladan called after her, and she began to walk more swiftly. “No, wait, please!”

Camilla hurried on, and in a moment, she was through the door of the healing house. “Chris,” she called out for her sister a bit breathlessly.

“Cami,” her sister replied as she came out from one of the many rooms. “What is wrong?”

“I think I sprained my wrist,” Camilla explained as she heard Elladan come into the house behind her.

“Lothil, please, allow me to apologize again,” he shouted as he stumbled slightly.

“What is the meaning of all of this shouting,” Silmariel questioned in a quiet, angry tone as she came from another room. “In case you have forgotten, this is a house of healing, and that includes quiet!”

Camilla turned and saw Elladan was standing with his slightly bloodied hands held up in a sign of peace, but she also saw that his left leg was scraped as well, and a trickle of blood was beginning to run down his calf. Her face paled, and she swayed slightly.

“Turn away, Cami,” Christin said as she grabbed her sister’s shoulders and turned her around. “We will take you into this room and get your wrist all wrapped up while Silmariel deals with him, alright?”

Camilla gave the tiniest of nods and stepped with her sister into the nearest room. Once she was seated on the bed, she took a couple of deep breaths. “Thanks, Chris,” she said with a slightly weak smile.

“Hey, what are sisters for, right,” Christin asked with clear affection before moving a small stool over to the bed and taking a seat. “Now, let’s see what you did to your wrist.”

Camilla winced as her sister moved her hand around.

“Well, it’s definitely sprained,” Christin declared with a nod before frowning. “Unfortunately, there isn’t much we can do about it besides wrap it up for you. If the swelling gets too bad, try to put cloths soaked in cold water around it. I doubt there is any ice left in the valley this late in the year,” she stated as she pulled out a roll of bandages. She quickly wrapped Camilla’s wrist and then sat back. “So, do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I was in the southeast garden tending the flowers with Arwen. You know how she gets when Grayson is out on missions for Lord Elrond,” she said, and her sister nodded. “So, I was kneeling on the path trying to inspect the new flowers coming in, and he crashed into me. I went sprawling into the flower bed and caught myself with my hands to keep from crushing the flowers.”

“Well, that certainly explains how you sprained your wrist and why the ellon is banged up. He must have landed hard on the stone pathway. It does not explain, however, why your left glove is missing,” Christin pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

Camilla looked down at her left hand. The two swords crossed over the sun marking that had decorated her hand was now covered by the bandages. “Elladan removed it so that he could look at my wrist. I suppose he dropped it in the garden,” she said with a frown. “When he saw my hand, he picked me up and swung me around like a madman, claiming that I was his fëamel.”

“That is amazing, Cami,” Christin exclaimed as she clapped her hands together. “Did you see his marking as well?”

Camilla shook her head. “I was in the air before I knew what was going on, and once I was on the ground, I hurried here. I’ll have to go back and clean up my tools and such.”

“Do you believe he was mistaken,” Christin asked a bit surprised. “Surely, he would not make light of something so sacred to the Elves here.”

“No, I do not think he was wrong,” Camilla answered after a moment. “Arwen introduced him as one of her brothers, and I do not think any child of Lord Elrond’s would treat something like that jokingly.”

“Arwen has brothers,” Christin asked with a thoughtful frown. “I don’t remember that.”

“Me neither,” Camilla agreed. “I should probably ask Kaylie about him. Maybe she knows something. But, no, I do not think he is wrong. I just don’t know what to think,” she finished with a sigh. “And he seems rather odd.”

Christin laughed. “That shouldn’t bother you. Our whole group is rather odd,” she commented before pulling her sister up off the bed. “Best just to talk to him,” she added as she gave her a little shove out of the room.

Camilla thanked her sister once more and then looked up and down the main corridor. She didn’t see Silmariel or Elladan, so she thought it was best to return to the garden and gather her things. She wouldn’t be able to do anything else today with her wrist still hurting, and as she examined her appearance, she realized that she would need to change her dress as well since there were smudges of dirt decorating the front of the one she was currently wearing. There were also probably bloodstains near her waist, but she was not about to look for those. So, she steadily made her way back to the southeast garden and found Arwen still there tending to the flowers.

“How is your wrist,” she asked once Camilla had joined her.

“It is sprained,” Camilla replied with a sigh as she began to gather her tools. “So, I am afraid that I will not be able to do any further work today.”

“I am surprised my hanar is not with you,” Arwen commented with a half-smile.

“I did not see him as I left the healing house,” Camilla responded as she finished gathering her things, including her glove, which had been lying on the path. She had been wearing it for so long that it seemed odd not to have it on.

“Lothil,” Elladan cried from further down the path.

“Ah, there he is now,” Arwen said with a laugh.

Camilla turned to see the disheveled ellon hurrying towards them, and she held her tools up as a sort of shield in case he tried to grab her again.

“Lothil, please,” Elladan said as he stopped a few feet from her. “Allow me to apologize. I did not mean to cause you harm or startle you earlier, and I fear I did not make the best of impressions.”

“You did not,” Camilla agreed with a nod before adding, “but first impressions are not always accurate.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “I thank you for your kind generosity,” he said with a bow. “If you are free, I believe we should speak to my ada.”

Camilla hesitated and pulled her items closer to her chest. “You have seen the mark upon my hand, but I have yet to see yours,” she stated a bit quietly.

“Oh,” Elladan muttered with a small frown as he looked at his bandaged hand. He then shrugged and began to unwind the wrapping.

“There is no need to do that,” Camilla assured him, eager both to avoid the sight of more blood and more pain for him. “I believe you. I do not need to see it.”

“You are the only one who can,” Elladan replied with a gentle smile. As soon as the majority of the back of his hand was uncovered, he stopped. “Your nethel told me that you cannot stand the sight of blood,” he commented as he kept the rest of the bandage in place with his right hand and stepped closer.

Camilla smiled at her sister’s forethought. That had been extremely kind of Christin. She then looked down at Elladan’s hand to see one pink, one red, and one white camellia. She couldn’t help but smile.

“Can you tell me what it means,” Elladan asked curiously as Camilla continued to stare.

“Camellias are my favorite flower because of how close they are to my name, Camilla,” she explained before indicating the pink flower. “Each of them has a different specific meaning, though. The pink one means ‘longing for you.’ The red one means ‘you are a flame in my heart,’ and the white one,” she began with a bit of a laugh, “stands for ‘you are adorable.’”

Elladan grinned. “I like that meaning,” he stated before his features turned puzzled. “Arwen introduced you as Lothil, though.”

“Camilla or Cami is my name in my own native tongue,” she replied with a small shrug. “Lothil is the name I have used since coming to Imladris.”

“It suits you,” he returned before wrapping his hand back up. “Now shall we give my ada the good news,” he asked as he indicated the path before them.

“I will come with you, if you do not mind,” Arwen commented as she dusted herself off.

“I do not,” Camilla answered with a smile and a shake of her head before beginning the trek to Lord Elrond’s study.

The three were silent as they walked, and soon they reached their destination. Once the door was closed behind them, Lord Elrond looked from Elladan to Camilla and took in their bandages and appearances. “What has happened,” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I found my fëamel,” Elladan exclaimed with a wide grin. “It is Lothil!”

The elf lord looked between them once more and shook his head. “Can none of my children find their matches without any injuries?”

“I will do my best, Ada, to see that no blood is spilt in my case,” Elladan’s brother, who had been present when they entered, replied before turning to Camilla. “I am Elrohir,” he introduced himself with a bow. “I look forward to making your better acquaintance, Lothil. You have my sincerest condolences,” he added with a side glance at his brother and a quirk of his lips.

“Do I need your condolences,” Camilla asked with a tilt of her head.

“No, you certainly do not,” Elladan protested vehemently as he glared at his twin.

Lord Elrond sighed. “Elrohir, do not antagonize your hanar. You should be happy for him,” he said with a pointed look before turning his attention to Camilla. “Arwen, would you please show Lothil the family sitting room? I imagine she will be spending many of her evenings with us as Alachon does. I have something of which I wish to speak to your henair.”

Camilla knew a dismissal when she heard one, so she gave a respectful nod to the elf lord, since her hands were still full, and followed her elven friend from his study. It had been a strange day, and she was glad that she would have a bit of time to think about things without Elladan nearby.

Chapter Text

Elladan frowned as he watched Lothil leave. “Was that truly necessary, Ada,” he asked as he turned back to his father. “I have barely had a chance to speak to Lothil yet.”

“I know, Elladan, but what I have to say relates to her. It is best that you and Elrohir both hear the truth regarding Lothil and the others with whom she arrived,” his father answered before motioning him and his brother to take the two chairs in front of his desk.

“Surely, there is nothing dangerous about her,” Elrohir commented once he was seated. “Besides her small stature, she appeared to be as any other elleth.”

Their father chuckled lightly. “No, Lothil is not dangerous at all, but she is not the same as other ellith. She, her sisters, and her friends are not from Arda.”

Elladan blinked at his father in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Lothil is from a distant future or, possibly, another plane of existence, though I believe the former to be the truth,” their father began before explaining how the group of friends came to Rivendell.

Elladan sat in silence as he tried to take in the information. To say he was surprised was an understatement, and when his father was finished, he did not speak for several minutes. His fëamel had been killed and given a new body by Eru, and while she had lived in Imladris for two years, the majority of her life had been spent in the distant future, apparently.

“That is quite the tale,” Elrohir commented after a long silence.

“It is,” their father agreed with a nod before adding, “and although I have consulted Lady Galadriel regarding the matter, neither of us have been made aware of what their true purpose here is. It could simply be to find their other halves, but I do not believe it is that simple. Still,” he continued with a pointed look at Elrohir, “I think it best if you become acquainted with them, Elrohir. Both your hanar and nethel have found their matches within this strange group, so I think it is possible that yours may also be included.”

Elrohir scoffed slightly. “I have no desire to find my fëamel, Ada, which you already know,” his brother replied, and Elladan saw his brother’s jaw clench slightly.

“I know your feelings, Elrohir,” Elrond replied with a serious frown. “However, you should not dismiss the possibility, and you will attend the winter solstice celebration this year,” he added firmly. Elrohir gave a jerky nod, and their father turned back towards Elladan. “Given what I have said, you will need to be cautious with Lothil. I know she appears as an elleth, but she was not raised with our customs or ways. Her thoughts, feelings, and actions are still often those of a child of the Second Born. Arwen has already had difficulties with Alachon and may be able to offer you counsel in the matter.”

“I understand, Ada,” Elladan replied with a nod and a more serious expression than he usually wore. His father was telling him that he could not expect Lothil to behave as any other elleth. Any other elleth would have been ecstatic to find out that their fëamel was the son of Lord Elrond of Imladris and would have begun planning a wedding ceremony immediately. Lothil would not be doing that. Things with her would move slowly.

“This knowledge is not generally known. Nor should it be,” his father concluded with a look at both of his sons, who nodded. “Now, I need to return to my work, and I am sure you both must wish to rest since you just returned.”

Elladan followed his brother’s example and stood before bowing to their father. The twins then left their father’s study, and he watched his brother quickly make his way down the hall. He wasn’t surprised. Elrohir was not interested in finding his match. He believed it would make him weak and would interfere with the mission that they had taken upon themselves.

Elladan had never agreed with his brother regarding that specific matter, so he turned and made his way further into the house and towards their family’s sitting room, where he hoped to find Arwen. Luck was on his side, as he found his sister sitting in one of the chairs, deep in thought, while Lothil was nowhere to be seen.

“Am I right to assume that Ada told you the truth of Lothil and her friends,” Arwen commented as she turned to look at him.

Elladan nodded as he took a seat near her. “He did.”

“It is a lot to accept, I know,” she said as she reached across the short distance and patted his arm in sympathy. “I hope you will not hold it against Lothil, though. She is extremely kind, and I consider her a friend.”

“No, of course not,” he immediately replied in a rather loud tone. “She cannot help her origins,” he added in a much softer tone, and Arwen nodded her agreement. After a moment, Elladan continued. “Ada mentioned that you had had some difficulties with your fëamel due to their unique situation.”

Arwen sighed and nodded. “Alachon and Tuinith have suffered much, and they bear many scars upon their fëar.”

“Who is Tuinith,” Elladan asked curiously as he leaned back into his chair. This conversation was probably going to take some time.

“Alachon’s nethel,” Arwen replied before smiling. “She is Glorfindel’s fëamel.”

“Glorfindel has finally found his fëamel,” Elladan exclaimed with a bright smile for the ellon that had taught him the sword in his youth. “He must be ecstatic.”

Arwen laughed a bit. “He is, but it is not so easy for him or me or you, most likely,” she said with a bit of a sigh. “As I said Alachon and Tuinith bear many scars from their previous lives, and they will never truly heal until they can travel to Valinor. Ada has done what he can for them for now, but it is difficult to know that Alachon is suffering when there is little I can do for him.”

Elladan nodded, imagining how horrible it would be to know that Lothil was in pain and there was nothing he could do for her. He barely knew her, but the thought made him feel ill. It must be terrible for Arwen, and he grasped her hand in comfort. “I am sorry for you, nethel, and Alachon as well, though I do not know him. And you believe that Lothil also suffers as they do?”

His nethel was quiet for a moment. “No, I do not believe that she does, but she has been unhappy and lonely lately, I think. She and those that came with her to our home are going their separate ways as they find their places here, and like you, she is also a twin, though she has two twin sisters and not just one. Since they were given new bodies, however, she and her sisters no longer look exactly alike as you and Elrohir do.”

Elladan’s brow furrowed at that. He and his brother had always looked the same. There were many people, even in the valley, that still could not tell them apart. It would be very disconcerting if his appearance suddenly changed. “That must be very distressing for her and her sisters.”

“I do not think her sisters mind so much, but I cannot say for certain as I have not spent as much time with them. But, Lothil certainly seems extremely aware of her new physical form,” his nethel replied with a bit of a sigh.

“Which must make it worse for her,” he commented a bit quietly. “I will do what I can to put her at ease as much as possible,” he declared before standing, ready to act.

“Wait, Elladan,” Arwen said as she grabbed his hand to keep him from leaving. “It is probably best to give Lothil time to adjust to this first, maybe a few days. I know it is difficult,” she added as his face fell. “However, remember that she is not like us. She has not been expecting this moment her entire life. Just be patient with her.”

Elladan nodded. “You are wise, nethel. I will not seek her out immediately as I wish,” he replied with a sigh before squeezing Arwen’s hand and making his exit. He needed a long walk through the valley that was his home.

Elladan returned to the main house for the evening meal and afterwards retired to his family’s sitting room. There, he had hoped to meet Alachon, but he was informed that Arwen’s match was away from the city. Since Lothil did not join them, it was a very quiet and slightly awkward family party, especially with Elrohir’s clear dissatisfaction.

It was, in fact, several days before Elladan finally sought Lothil once again, thinking that there had been sufficient time for her to adjust to their new situation. He found her sitting in the garden, as her injury still prevented her from working in the flower beds too much. It was an awkward meeting, but they gradually grew more comfortable with one another as they spoke, which gave him hope that, with time, affection would surely grow between them.

Spring ended. Summer began. Fall was quickly approaching, and Elladan’s hopes were not in vain. In the space of a few months, he and Lothil had become friends. Now, however, he was preparing to leave Imladris once again to rejoin the rangers. With the longer nights of winter coming, danger increased. Usually, such things did not bother him, but he was now leaving his fëamel behind. That made quite a difference.

He found Lothil in her usual place, at work in the southeast garden, preparing the flowers and plants for the colder weather ahead. “Greetings, Lothil,” he called as he approached.

She paused in her work to look up at him with a smile. “Elladan, it is good to see you this afternoon.” Her brow then furrowed in concern as she continued to look at him. “Is something wrong?”

Elladan was not quite sure how to answer that question, so instead he returned it with one of his own. “Might I speak to you for a few moments,” he asked as he gestured to a nearby bench.

“Of course,” Lothil replied as she quickly stood and dusted the dirt from her hands and onto the apron she was wearing.

“Thank you,” he said as he led the way to the bench and took a seat beside her. “I am afraid, Lothil, that I will be leaving Imladris shortly,” he began after a moment to gather his thoughts.

“I thought that might be the case,” she returned with a small sigh. “When do you depart?”

“We will be leaving in two days’ time,” he replied as he gently took her hand in his. “I wish it were not so.”

“Do not say that,” Lothil said rather firmly. “You have told me before of your mission with Elrohir to rid the world of orcs and Sauron’s other evil creatures, so this is not unexpected. I will not say that I will not worry for you. I am sure I will, but this is important to you. So, go. I will be here when you return.”

Elladan felt a nearly overwhelming gratitude to Eru that he had been blessed with such a fëamel. He could not conceive of there being any other elleth in Arda that was as kind and understanding as Lothil was. Unable to form the words he wished, he simply brought the hand he held to his lips and placed a kiss upon it.

Lothil’s cheeks turned a rather endearing shade of pink. “Do you know when you will return? Will Glorfindel or Grayson accompany you?”

“Ada wishes us to be back in Imladris by winter solstice,” Elladan answered with a warm smile. “Glorfindel and Alachon will remain here. Why do you ask?”

“I only wished to know if Arwen or Elise would need comforting,” she returned with a small shrug.

Elladan shook his head. “You always think of others’ feelings before your own. This time, perhaps, you should allow them to comfort you, instead.”

Lothil nodded. “Maybe,” she agreed before adding, “but I always seem to forget my own troubles when I am offering comfort to someone else. So, I am not as unselfish as you might think me.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” he returned with a fond smile before standing. “Now, I must go find my hanar and finish my preparations.”

“Is he still angry with you,” Lothil questioned as she stood as well.

Elladan sighed. They had discussed Elrohir’s slightly cold behavior over the last few months already. “Yes, I believe he is.”

“You should try to reconcile with him before you leave. I would not wish for the two of you to find yourselves in a difficult position with harsh feelings between you,” Lothil advised as she looked up at him with a frown.

“I will do what I can,” Elladan assured her, though he did not think it would work. Elrohir had barely spoken to him recently. “And now, I must bid you farewell, for I will not see you again before we depart.”

Lothil nodded and took his hands in hers for a moment. “Then I will only say, do not do anything too reckless and go with the Valar’s blessing upon you,” she stated as she squeezed his hands before releasing them.

Elladan stared at her for a few moments before forcing himself to turn away. “I will return soon,” he declared before leaving her behind in the garden to go search for Elrohir.

He found his hanar in his room. “Where have you been,” Elrohir asked tersely as he entered the room. “We need to finish our preparations.”

“I was taking my leave of Lothil,” Elladan admitted, which earned him a snort from the other elf. “I know you do not like the situation, Elrohir,” he began as he tried to keep his temper in check, “but that is no reason to be cold or disparaging towards her.”

“She is distracting you from your duty. We swore that we would not rest until Sauron’s filth has been washed away from all Arda, but you have lost sight of that,” Elrohir answered as he moved about his room to gather his equipment.

Elladan moved forward and gripped his hanar by the shoulders. “I have not forgotten, Elrohir,” he assured him. “And Lothil supports what we are doing. She did not try to stop me from going. She did not even weep. She is strong, and knowing that she is here waiting will only make me stronger, not weaker as you seem to believe.”

Elrohir sighed. “I cannot see it,” he admitted. “You will be distracted in battle, worrying for her. You will not be willing to take risks any longer.”

“I am sure I will think of her,” Elladan agreed as he stepped away from the other. “That does not mean that I will be any less committed to our goals or any less fierce in battle.”

“We will see,” Elrohir replied with a shake of his head.

“Yes, you will,” Elladan agreed before leaving his hanar to his packing and going to his own room to do the same. He would prove to Elrohir that nothing had changed, and when they returned, he hoped that Elrohir would finally treat Lothil as a future nethel instead of an enemy.

Chapter Text

To say that Elrohir was unhappy was a gross understatement. He was nearly as miserable as he had ever been in his entire life. His hanar had found his fëamel, and now his attention was necessarily elsewhere instead of on their task of ridding Middle-Earth of all evil, and he could not even have the satisfaction of finding fault with Lothil. She was kind and seemed to be a calming presence to Elladan, who was often excitable. Still, he avoided her, for she was the cause of his current misery.

What made it worse was that his ada was now certain that his own match was included in this strange group that had mildly invaded his home while he was away, and he was insisting that Elrohir attend the winter solstice celebration to search once more for his own fëamel. He wanted nothing to do with it. He did not need the distraction, especially with Elladan as he would be now. He would have to make sure his hanar did not get himself killed in battle from losing focus.

So, it was with mixed feelings that he once again left Imladris to travel to the north and meet up with the rangers. He was glad to get away from his home and his father’s disapproving stare and Lothil’s kindness that made him feel guilty over his own coldness towards her, but he was apprehensive to witness the changes in Elladan. Despite the assurances of his hanar that he would still fight in battle just as well as he had before, he had his doubts.

Those doubts were mostly put to rest, however, after their first battle with the orcs that season. Elladan was just as he had been and fought viciously alongside him as he always had. If he was quieter in the evenings, then Elrohir tried to take no notice of the change. He even considered it an improvement as his hanar could be quite chatty at times.

As the months passed, Elrohir’s heart lightened somewhat. He was still concerned, of course, that Elladan would get himself killed somehow, but it had not happened yet. And that put him a bit more at ease. So, when winter solstice drew near, he returned home in better spirits. Those spirits were considerably dampened, however, when he was summoned to his father’s study the day after he arrived home.

“Come in, Elrohir,” his ada called after he knocked upon the door.

Elrohir did as he was bid and bowed to Lord Elrond. “You summoned me, Ada?”

“Yes, Elrohir, sit,” his ada said as he indicated one of the chairs in front of his desk. Once he was seated, Lord Elrond continued. “I wish to hear of your journey these last few months.”

Elrohir frowned slightly. “Surely, you have already had your report from Glorfindel as we spoke to him yesterday upon our arrival,” he said a bit carefully.

“Yes, I have met with Glorfindel already,” Lord Elrond agreed with a nod. “However, I could not help but notice that you seemed more welcoming to Lothil last evening when she joined us after dinner. I wonder what has occurred to change your behavior.”

“Elladan survived our battles,” Elrohir replied bluntly. “I expected him to be too distracted to fight properly, but such was not the case. I should not have blamed her the way I did, especially since my fears were apparently unfounded. Still, he is changed.”

“Of course, he is,” the other agreed seriously. “Lothil helps to balance him. That is what having a fëamel is, finding balance, growing, learning, and improving as a person with another’s assistance. This is why I wish for you to attend tomorrow’s festivities.”

Elrohir sighed. “Ada, you know that I have no desire to find my match.”

“I do know, though you have never given me an honest answer as to why,” Lord Elrond replied a bit sternly.

“Did you not set aside your sword when you wed,” Elrohir stated rather pointedly. “I cannot do that. I must fight. I must do all that I can to thwart the evil growing in this land. I cannot do that if I have a wife or elflings for which I must worry.”

“So, you believe that the one Eru chose for you would request that you cease your endeavors,” Lord Elrond questioned with a lifted brow. “Has it not occurred to you that your fëamel may wish to fight alongside you, instead?”

“That would be even worse,” Elrohir responded with a shake of his head. “It would be bad enough for my life to be in constant danger, much less hers, and once we are bonded…,” he trailed off, unwilling to voice the consequences. Bonded elves rarely lived through their spouse’s death. “It would be unwise for both of us. That is why it is best if we simply do not meet for now.”

“I see,” his ada declared with a nod. “I can understand your feelings Elrohir, but I still wish for you to attend the winter solstice celebration tomorrow. If your fëamel is, as I believe, one of Lothil’s companions, then it is quite likely that you will not need to worry over bonding for quite some time. You should also know that I set aside my sword for many reasons at the beginning of this age. Yes, I did wish to wed and concentrate on raising a family with your emel, but I was also tired, ion-nin. I fought in the final battles of the First Age and for most of the Second Age. I was so tired of killing, even orcs, but had I wished to continue, your emel would have understood. Eru does not make mistakes in this, Elrohir, so I trust you will put forth some effort tomorrow.”

Elrohir huffed slightly but nodded. “Very well, Ada. I will do what I can.”

“That is all I ask,” Lord Elrond answered with a fatherly smile. “You are free to go now.”

Elrohir stood and bowed before leaving the study. He quickly made his way out to one of the more secluded walks in the valley. He had much on which to think, and he had no desire for company.

The following day, the sun set early, and the festivities began. Elrohir dutifully made his way to the hall where the celebration was being held, leaving the leather glove he usually wore on his left hand behind in his room. As he entered the hall, he subconsciously pressed the back of his left hand against his leg.

As he edged around the room, he shook his head. He did not understand why the people of the valley continued to do this every year. They all knew one another, and they all knew that they were not matches for each other. He could name every person in this room except for the maiden with the golden hair who was eyeing the door to the terrace and appeared to be as uncomfortable as he was.

Realizing that he was not alone, Elrohir approached the lady from behind. “If you are quick, I am sure I can cover your escape,” he offered with a smile as she whirled around in surprise.

She was silent for a moment as she stared at him. “It seems my chance is lost,” she finally replied as she looked beyond him.

Elrohir turned to see Erestor quickly approaching. The advisor usually oversaw these celebrations in place of his ada, especially since his emel had sailed west.

“I see Elrond convinced you to attend this year,” Erestor greeted him with a knowing smile.

“More like ordered,” he answered honestly.

Erestor nodded. “Well, allow me to introduce you to Idhrendes,” he offered as he gestured to the golden-haired maiden that he had surprised earlier. “She and her mellon Emma have become indispensable to me.”

Elrohir bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Idhrendes.”

“And this is Elrohir, Lord Elrond’s eldest,” Erestor finished the introduction.

“I thought that must be the case,” Idhrendes replied before curtsying. “You look too much like Elladan to be anyone else.”

“And you must be Lothil’s mellon,” he returned after a moment. It would certainly explain why he had not met her before.

“The two of you should join the other dancers,” Erestor encouraged them with a pointed look at Elrohir that told him that his ada had definitely spoken to the advisor.

Elrohir held back his sigh. It was not Idhrendes’s fault. He held out his right hand to her. “Will you allow me the honor of a dance,” he asked politely.

Idrendes nodded and placed her left hand into his. “I suppose we must,” she replied with a wry smile.

Elrohir returned her smile with one of his own before leading her to the floor. He made a point of not looking at her left hand as they began to dance. “I admit I am curious as to why you were contemplating escape.”

“I have no desire to participate in these celebrations,” Idhrendes returned with a sigh. “I imagine you feel quite the same. Yet you are also present.”

“On orders from my ada,” Elrohir admitted with a sigh.

“Then our reasons for attending are the same,” the lady replied evenly.

“He ordered you to attend as well,” he asked rather surprised. He would not have suspected his ada of such a thing.

“No, he did not,” Idhrendes corrected his assumption. “Still, he has done much for me and my friends, so it would be terribly rude if none of us participated in the celebrations. I was, apparently, the only one available besides Gliril, who you see playing with the other musicians,” she finished as she motioned to another golden-haired lady.

“Perhaps you can introduce me later,” Elrohir said politely as the song began to wind down.

“I am afraid that would go very ill,”Idhrendes answered with a quirk of her lips. “Gliril is not fond of you due to how poorly you have treated her sister Lothil.”

“Ah,” Elrohir stated in some confusion, unsure what to say in response to his dance partner.

Idhrendes decided to have mercy upon him, however, and continued. “However, since Lothil has told us that you have been kinder since your return, it is possible that Gliril will be willing to speak to you should you seek an introduction. My opinion of you has risen slightly, so I will speak in your favor.”

“Only slightly,” he questioned with a lifted eyebrow as he struggled to keep up with the conversation.

The song came to an end, and Idhrendes pulled away from him. “Well, considering you are my fëamel, it would not be in my best interest to think the worst of you,” she answered as she held up her left hand to show him the mark upon its back. She then turned and walked towards the doors to the terrace she had been eyeing earlier.

Elrohir stood in the middle of the floor in utter shock. He had found his fëamel, and she had walked away from him without a second thought! Did she not even wish to discuss the matter? His anger rose at the thought, but he tried to calm himself, remembering that she was well aware of his behavior towards Lothil and most likely knew or guessed the reasons behind it. He sighed. He supposed he could not expect anything else, and he debated about whether to go after her or not. Despite not wishing to find his match, it still seemed inherently wrong to leave things between them in this way. So, he shook himself from his thoughts and went after her.

He found Idhrendes leaning against one of the white columns that held up the balcony on the floor above. “I apologize, Elrohir,” she stated without turning to him. “You did not deserve such rudeness from me, no matter how much you have expressed your disdain at finding your fëamel. I am only troubled this evening.”

Elrohir took a steadying breath. “No matter what you may have heard about me, Idhrendes, I never have meant any offence against you, but I have sworn to do all that I can to rid the world of the evil creatures that attacked my emel,” he explained as he moved to stand next to her. “I cannot do that with a wife.”

“Did you think I would not understand that, and I am not asking you to wed me,” the elleth replied with an angry sniff. “Why else would I specifically try to avoid you?”

“You mean that you knew that we were a match before tonight,” Elrohir questioned in mild shock.

“I had my suspicions. Tonight only confirmed it,” she admitted with a sigh. “If you like, we can simply pretend that we did not meet tonight.”

Elrohir ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Why was she being so difficult? Any other maiden would have been ecstatic to learn he was their match! “There is no need for that,” he assured her after a moment to calm himself again. “I would not be opposed to getting to know you. I only wish to postpone anything serious.”

“Well, despite what you might expect, I have no intention of rushing into marriage with someone that I literally just met a few moments ago, so have no worries. If, however, you would like to be friends, I can agree to that,” she returned as she finally turned to look at him. “You say that you have something that you wish to accomplish. Well, I do, too.”

Elrohir couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto his face. If nothing else, she was a bit fiery, and she was not afraid to give her opinion. “May I ask what it is that you are trying to accomplish?”

“I wish to determine the reason that my friends and I found ourselves here,” Idhrendes explained as she turned back to look out at the valley.

“I see,” he replied with a nod. It was certainly an understandable pursuit. “This is why you have been spending so much time with Erestor?”

“Yes,” she answered with a nod. “I am hoping to find something in the records here, but I am not optimistic.”

“Which is why your heart is so heavy this evening,” Elrohir concluded with a nod as he stepped a bit further out from under the balcony overhead so that he could look up at the stars.

Idhrendes shook her head. “No, that is not it at all,” she stated in a quiet voice. “This will be my third winter in Imladris, and where I am from, there is a great celebration that takes place a few days after winter solstice, a celebration that I always spent surrounded by my family. Lothil came here with her two sisters. Alachon and Tuinith have one another. Adrien has his two sisters. Lamaeneth, Emma, Riley, and I are here without any of our family members, but of the four of us, I am the only one that was really close to my family. I miss them. I miss them so much that it aches, especially at this time of the year,” she finished with a small sniff.

Elrohir fished his handkerchief out of an inner pocket and handed it to the elleth. From what he knew of her and her situation, he could not imagine how difficult life had been for her since her arrival. Add to that the fact that she may never see her family again, and it was completely understandable why she was in such a state. “I know that it will not remove the pain, but perhaps it can ease it. I have a family here that will more than welcome you and has already welcomed your friends. So, you may consider them your own even if we can only be friends for the time being.”

Idhrendes finished wiping the few tears that had escaped and gave him a half-smile as she returned his handkerchief. “Thank you, Elrohir. I believe I will retire for the night,” she added before turning away from him.

“Rest well,” he called after her before turning his attention back to the stars. He shook his head as he thought about sharing the news with his ada the following day. He was going to be completely insufferable.

Chapter Text

Spring had come upon the valley again. It had been four months since Kaylie had confirmed that Elrohir was her soulmate. She’d had her suspicions as soon as she’d seen the mark on her hand and understood its significance, but when Cami had found Elladan to be her match, she became positive of the fact that Elrohir was hers. She glanced down at the uncovered mark on her hand, twin swords crossed over a scroll, and let out a small sigh.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Emma commented from her place at a nearby desk. “Is something wrong?”

Kaylie thought about that for a moment. “No, nothing is wrong, not really,” she decided as she turned her attention back to the shelves.

“You don’t sound very convincing,” Emma returned even as she continued to work. “Does it have to do with Elrohir? I thought you guys were doing okay.”

Kaylie couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “We are, in our own way, I suppose,” she said with a shrug. “We’ve talked a couple of times since that night, but neither of us has any intention of doing anything more. He has his work with the rangers to concentrate on, and I have my work here.”

“And his family is okay with how things are,” Emma asked curiously as she continued to work on the record she was copying for Erestor.

“Arwen and Elladan have been welcoming and understanding,” Kaylie replied as she examined the shelf in front of her, which seemed to be full of extremely old scrolls, older than normal in Rivendell’s library. “Lord Elrond seems exasperated with us both, but he accepts that we are going to do things our way. Besides, where is the harm in waiting a decade or two to truly commit to each other when we’re Elves? We’ve literally got all the time in Arda.” She heard a sound from the desk and immediately turned to her friend. “I’m sorry, Em. I shouldn’t have said that,” she apologized.

“It’s okay, Kaylie,” Emma replied with a sad smile. “You’re only stating the facts, and like Riley said three years ago, it doesn’t matter that I’m still human while you’re an Elf. We’re still best friends.”

Kaylie went to where Emma was sitting and awkwardly hugged her for a moment. “You’re right. You’ll never be rid of me,” she jested before returning to the shelf she had been inspecting. After a few moments, she noticed a particular rune marked on one of the scrolls. “Em, can you come here for a second?”

Emma joined her a moment later and looked at the shelf she was staring at. “What is it?”

“What do you think that is,” Kaylie asked as she pointed to a marking on one of the scrolls before her without touching it. It looked exceedingly old, and the last thing she wanted to do was damage it.

“It’s Calma, isn’t it,” Emma stated with a raised brow as she looked at her friend in confusion.

“It is,” Kaylie agreed with a nod. “But why is it alone? All the other records we have seen are marked with the recorder’s full name.”

Emma shrugged slightly. “Maybe he or she was really well known at the time, and it became something like a trademark,” she suggested.

“Perhaps,” Kaylie agreed with a frown, still puzzling over it. “But, if that were the case, wouldn’t there be more records marked the same way? This seems to be the only one, and it reminds me of something. I just cannot remember what it is. I wish I had Cait’s memory. She would immediately know.”

“Well, why not ask Erestor,” Emma suggested as she moved back to the desk to continue working. “I’m sure he would know.”

Kaylie shook her head. “I do not wish to bother him unless it is important.”

“Well, you’ll never know if it’s important or not unless you open it,” Emma reasoned before picking up her quill and getting back to her task.

Emma certainly had a point, so Kaylie slipped on a special pair of gloves that she used when dealing with the older records and gingerly reached towards the scroll. When it didn’t crumble into dust upon contact, she breathed a sigh of relief and, with extreme care, carried it to another desk before beginning to slowly undo the ties that kept it closed.

“This paper is really strange,” Kaylie commented once she finally had the ties off. “It seems much sturdier than the others that we’ve seen in here.” She very carefully began to unroll the scroll, but her pace quickened as she saw nothing but an empty canvas. “It’s blank,” she exclaimed in exasperation.

“What? Why would it be in here if it is blank,” Emma asked as she looked up from her work in confusion.

“I don’t know,” Kaylie replied in frustration. She’d really thought that she had found something different, important, perhaps even what she was seeking.

“Ah, here you are,” Erestor stated as he entered the room a moment later. “I should have known that you would be in here with the oldest records.”

“Were you looking for me,” Emma asked as she stood to curtsy. “If so, I apologize. I was keeping Kaylie company.”

Erestor waved off the apology. “It is no matter. I was merely checking to see if you had finished the document that I gave you earlier.”

Emma shook her head. “I am almost through. It will only be a few more minutes,” she assured him before retaking her seat and getting back to work immediately. “I am afraid that Kaylie distracted me with a strange blank record she found.”

“A blank record,” Erestor questioned with a tilt of his head as he approached Kaylie. “May I?”

Kaylie stepped aside and allowed the much older elf to examine the document she had unrolled. “The parchment is rather odd, is it not,” she commented as she watched him rub the material carefully between his fingers.

“It is, indeed,” Erestor agreed with a thoughtful nod. “Can you show me where you found it?”

Kaylie nodded and led the other elf to the shelf where she had first noticed the scroll. “It is not marked the same way as the rest of these.”

“No, it is not,” Erestor agreed with a shake of his head. “These are all original records of Tegoldaer that have been copied throughout the years to preserve them. He was a scribe of Eregion that specifically worked with the Gwaith-i-Mírdain.”

She remained silent for a moment as she thought over the information. “Then is the blank record also from Eregion,” she hazarded. If the document was not out of place, then it would make sense that they were from the same place and time.

“I wonder,” the advisor murmured more to himself as he made his way back to the desk where the blank document still rested. He examined it again along with its bindings. “There were tales that the scribes in Eregion had discovered a way to preserve parchment for countless years, but the method was extremely difficult to do, and there was a risk of destroying the record in the process. So, it was seldom used. I believe this is an example of that.”

“Sounds like they managed to laminate it somehow,” Emma commented as she put her quill away and began to gently blow on the document that she had been writing to help dry the ink.

“It does,” Kaylie agreed with her friend. When she saw Erestor’s confusion, she explained. “In our time, we have a method to preserve documents that is similar to this, but it makes the parchment very inflexible.”

“Ah,” the older elf said as he frowned down at the riddle before them. He picked up the binding that had the rune inscribed upon it and ran his thumb over it thoughtfully. “Perhaps, this was created by Celebrimbor,” he mused aloud.

Kaylie blinked several times as pieces began to fall into place. “Of course,” she agreed with enthusiasm. “He was the Lord of Eregion, and this is the same way he signed the western doors of Moria that he helped to make,” as she finally remembered what she had forgotten earlier. “Do you think that the record is written in ithildin? He was known for using it, was he not?”

“He was,” Erestor agreed before he began to roll the parchment back up. “I will have to ask Lord Elrond to examine this for us. To go through such trouble to preserve and hide the record indicates to me that the information therein is extremely important and possibly dangerous.”

Emma stood then and held out the rolled parchment she had to the advisor. “And here is the document that you requested, all finished!”

He smiled at her. “Thank you,” he said with a nod before turning back to Kaylie. “I will let you know what Lord Elrond finds,” he assured her, knowing what she had been researching this whole time. He then left the room.

“Think they’ll actually find anything in that scroll,” Emma asked as she joined her friend.

“I’m not sure, but something tells me that they just might,” Kaylie returned before turning to her friend. “Let’s go for a walk in the garden. Too much seriousness is bad for the complexion.”

“One of Erica’s many sayings,” Emma asked with a laugh as she followed Kaylie out of the antechamber and then out of the library completely.

“Of course,” Kaylie replied with a roll of her eyes. “Who else?” She then let out a sigh as they stepped into the spring sunshine. She hoped that it wouldn’t take long for Lord Elrond to unravel the mystery of the blank document.

Luckily for Kaylie, it was only a few days before she was summoned to Lord Elrond’s office. “Ah, Idhrendes, please come in,” the elf lord welcomed her and motioned for her to take a seat.

“You summoned me, hir-nin,” she asked after a few moments of silence as she glanced at Erestor who was also in the room.

“Yes, I wished to discuss with you the document that Erestor brought to me a few days ago,” Lord Elrond began as he stood from his desk and paced to the window. “It was indeed penned by Celebrimbor and written in ithildin as the two of you suspected,” he said after a moment before turning back around to face her. “Its contents were rather surprising, however,” he finished as he waved Erestor forward.

The advisor stepped forward and handed her a piece of parchment with his own neat handwriting covering it. “I transcribed the words as Lord Elrond read them aloud to me. We were lucky that last night was clear with a compatible moon.”

Kaylie took the piece of parchment from him and squinted down at it for a moment. “This does not make any sense to me,” she admitted after a moment.

“Forgive me, Idhrendes,” Erestor said instantly as he took the parchment back from her. “I forget that you have not studied Quenya yet.”

“Quenya,” Kaylie repeated in surprise.

“Yes, it seems Celebrimbor did everything in his power to keep the information in that document secret and well-preserved,” Lord Elrond said as he moved back to his desk. “If you will give it to me, I will translate it as I go,” he stated as he held his hand out for the parchment.

“Can you not simply give me a summary,” Kaylie asked in confusion. That seemed like a much simpler answer.

“I think that, in this instance, it would be best for you to have the exact words,” the elf lord replied before beginning to translate the record.

Here I, Celebrimbor, make my final record. Morgoth’s dark lieutenant will be coming for me, and I do not imagine that I will survive the attack that I know is coming. Still, he will not obtain the information he desires from me. The three rings I created without him are already hidden. The others I cannot hide. For, his own power lies within them, and they all, even the three he never touched, are subject to the master ring he has crafted.

I fear that my own arrogance will lead to much suffering and death for all through the end of this age and even into the next one. My family has caused so much harm to our people, and I was foolish to think that I would not follow that legacy. Finwë wed a lady that was not his fëamel, which led to the troubles before the sun and moon first rose. Fëanor never would have existed as he did if not for that choice. He never would have made the Silmarils, which led to so many battles during the First Age. My own father took part in that dreadful oath and is responsible for the deaths of many innocents. I thought myself above such things, but like all my ancestors, I succumbed to my own arrogance and pride.

When Annatar first arrived in Eregion, I suspected him, but I wanted the knowledge he had. I should have followed my first instincts. It does no good to lament such things now, however. It is done, and many will suffer for my choices. No doubt, when my fëa finally enters the Halls of Mandos, I will not be found worthy of reembodiment.

Still, there is hope, and I will focus on that instead of wasting more of this precious ink on my regrets. My family has caused a ripple effect in the pairings of the fëar of both Elves and Men, but Ilúvatar will make all right again. A group of fëar will be brought from the distant future to restore balance once more. These shall also right the other wrongs in this world, and many will be paired with great ones of the age, kings, princes, lords, ladies, and captains. Together, they will work with the other races to finally destroy the evil that has plagued us.

This is the hope to which I shall hold, knowing that my time is short, that this blessed dozen shall be able to bring peace to the land once and for all. Their knowledge and skills will be perfectly suited to the tasks. I know. For, I have seen them in a vision. They shall be in every kingdom and offer assistance to all the great leaders of the age. Only with them is there hope. Now, I make my end and go to prepare for battle and death.

Celebrimbor
Lord of Eregion

Kaylie sat in silence once Lord Elrond had finished. She was absolutely amazed by what had been in the document that she had found. It certainly answered some questions about how and why they had been brought to this place and time, but it raised more questions as well. “What does this mean?”

“It means, Idhrendes, that you and your friends were meant to come to Ennor,” Lord Elrond replied with an even more serious expression than he usually wore. “And that you are essential in defeating the evil that is growing in the south. It also means that you all cannot remain in Imladris much longer.”

Kaylie stared at him with wide eyes. “You will not let us stay,” she managed to choke out as she thought about Grayson and Elise followed quickly by Cami. What in Arda was she supposed to tell them?

“You misunderstand,” Erestor corrected her gently. “Those of you that have found your matches here will be allowed to remain in the city, but your other friends will need to venture forth.”

“Yes, I would never separate those that have met their other halves. That would be cruel,” the elf lord reassured her quickly. “But the vision described by Celebrimbor states that you were in all the kingdoms and that you were paired with rulers and leaders in these kingdoms. Therefore, we must reason that your friends’ matches lie outside of Imladris, and it is essential that they find them. The sooner that they do, the better off Ennor will be.”

Kaylie nodded and took a deep breath, her thoughts already focused on how she was going to explain this turn of events to her friends. She stood. “Thank you, hir-nin,” she said with a curtsy before heading for the door.

“Idhrendes,” Erestor called after her, and she turned to the elf to see him wearing a half smile. “I believe we should begin lessons in Quenya tomorrow.”

Kaylie felt the tension leave her as she laughed at the advisor’s suggestion. “I will meet you in the library at our usual time in the morning,” she replied with a smile, feeling much better about facing her friends with this new information.

Chapter Text

Adrien stared out over the plains of Rohan. It had been a little more than a year since Kaylie had explained that they needed to begin exploring the other lands of Middle-Earth. Luckily for Adrien, Aragorn had returned just weeks after the long discussion he, his sisters, and friends had all had over the prophecy that had been written about them. The two had become quick friends, and with the ranger’s help, he had left the Elven valley, much to his sisters’ anger.

Adrien turned to the mountains that lay to the south. He never could have foreseen the turn his life had taken. It had been four years since he had first arrived in Middle-Earth with his sisters and friends, four years since his entire life had turned upside down. He had owned his own business and was rather successful at it. He had been planning to save up enough money to begin scaling the world’s tallest peaks. His goal in life had been to climb Mount Everest, but Mount Everest did not exist here.

Instead, he now found himself with longer hair than he’d ever had, wielding a large battle-axe, hunting for his own food, and traveling by foot through a land he thought only existed in a popular film series. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. There was no use in pining over things that were lost to him. He needed to get moving.

Adrien turned his attention back to his small camp and quickly gathered his gear. Aragorn had left him several days before after picking up Gollum’s trail once again, and now he was left to make his own way back to Rivendell, to his friends and sisters. Since they had come across the Misty Mountains via the High Pass near Rivendell and worked their way south, that meant crossing through Rohan to the Gap of Rohan and steadily working his way north. He sighed as he thought of the long days ahead. Luckily, it was spring and that meant plenty of sunlight by which to travel. He hoisted his pack onto his back and started walking.

The sun had just finished setting as he began to make camp for the night, but his peace was disturbed as he heard a commotion from the north. He quickly climbed a nearby hill to see what he could. Luckily, the sky was clear, and the moon had already risen. Below him, he could see what appeared to be a battle between a group of horsemen and orcs. The Rohirrim, for he knew that’s who the horsemen had to be, seemed outnumbered, so he quickly rushed down the other side of the hill with his axe in hand to enter the fray.

As he reached the edge of the battle, he heard a cry of, “Éomer!” He quickly glanced around and saw a golden-haired man that had been separated from the rest of the riders. He was being surrounded by orcs, and Adrien, knowing who it must be, went to his aid. He swung his axe and decapitated one of the orcs before reversing his swing and burying the other axe head into another’s back. His arrival gave the man a chance to get back to his feet. “Alright,” he asked, still alert.

The rider that he assumed was Éomer nodded. “Who are you?”

“I’ll explain later,” Adrien replied before moving to join the battle once more.

Despite being outnumbered, the riders moved fluidly together, and the battle did not last much longer after Adrien’s arrival. He had stayed next to the man he had rescued, and after the remaining orcs began to flee, they were joined by another golden-haired man, this one clearly several years older than him.

“Éomer,” the newcomer greeted him with a hard clap to the shoulder and a shake of his head. “You should not leave your riders! How would it be if our new Third Marshal perished in his first battle after meriting his title?” He then turned his attention to Adrien. “You have my thanks, stranger, for saving my kinsman,” he began with a nod before his countenance turned cautious. “However, these lands belong to Rohan, so I must ask. Who are you and what business have you here?”

Adrien was only a little surprised by the suspicion, and he quickly shrugged it off. “My name is Adrien. I am a soldier and wish to pass through Rohan to return to my family, who await me in the north. I was travelling to Edoras to request the king’s permission when I heard the battle.” It wasn’t a complete falsehood. He did intend to request permission of the king if he came across any of the Rohirrim. Otherwise, he hoped to simply pass through the country unnoticed.

“Passage through Rohan I can grant you as thanks for saving my kinsman as the king is my father. I am Théodred, and this is Éomer,” he said indicating the man Adrien had helped.

“It is foolish of you to travel alone,” Éomer commented as he cleaned his sword, causing his cousin to frown at him.

“And it was foolish of you to charge into the enemy,” Théodred admonished him with a frown before turning back to Adrien. “Although you have my permission to pass through Rohan, I invite you to travel back to Edoras with me so that my father may give you his thanks in person.”

“I would be honored to do so,” Adrien agreed with a nod. “Allow me to gather my belongings, and I will return in a few moments.”

Théodred nodded, and Adrien turned to head back over the hill to his little camp. As he cleaned his axe and tidied himself up as much as possible, he thought over this turn of events. Kaylie had said that they would be in all the kingdoms of Middle-Earth, so, perhaps, it was best to use this as a chance to form alliances with Rohan. Éomer reminded him of Grayson to an extent with his quick temper and seemed unlikely to accept friendship at the first attempt. Théodred, though, was much older than he had imagined, certainly much older than he seemed to recall from the film, and, though he was cautious, seemed willing to accept Adrien at face value. With those thoughts in mind, he gathered up his gear and made his way back to the scene of the battle, where the riders were busy piling the orc bodies and gathering their wounded.

“Do you ride,” Théodred asked as he came within speaking distance.

Adrien hesitated for a moment before answering, “If a horse can be found that can bear me, I can ride it, though I have not ridden in many months.” Glorfindel had seen to it that all of them could ride.

Théodred tilted his head to the side a bit before giving him a half smirk. “I assure you our horses will bear you. The stock of the north must have grown weak, indeed, over the years if they cannot.” He then motioned another rider forward and spoke to him for a moment.

“I think those that I had access to were messenger horses and bred for speed more than battle,” Adrien stated with a small shrug as the second rider brought forth a large gray horse.

“This is Gram,” Théodred said indicating the horse as he patted its neck. “His rider, sadly, has fallen, but he will bear you with no trouble.”

Adrien couldn’t help but smile as he introduced himself to the animal. “I imagine not! You are quite the stout fellow!”

Théodred chuckled. “We breed our horses with great care, and we have a rider or two that would match you for height and stature. Our camp is some distance away, and it will be quicker if you ride.”

Adrien glanced at the riders surrounding them, hard at work despite the fact that the only light they now had was that of the moon. “Should not we assist them first?”

“Éomer has things in hand, and I must return to Edoras with all speed before returning to my own duties in the Westfold,” Théodred explained as he accepted the reigns of a mighty white steed from another soldier. “Come! We have about an hour’s ride ahead of us,” he stated before mounting his horse with the ease of one that had done it many thousands of times.

Adrien nodded and mounted Gram a bit more slowly, and he heaved a relieved breath once he was seated comfortably as the horse seemed to barely register that he was there. He leaned forward and whispered to it in Sindarin. “I hope I am not too heavy for you, but let us follow the others back to camp.”

The horse snorted at him as if he was being ridiculous and followed after Théodred’s stallion with ease. Adrien was sure it would have rolled its eyes if it could have and chuckled to himself for his over abundance of caution.

It was an hour’s ride to Théodred’s camp, and Adrien was treated to hardier fare than he’d enjoyed in the last several days. He met and chatted with several of the other riders before turning in for the night.

The next three days were spent riding to Edoras, and Adrien was grateful to climb from the saddle at last as he and Théodred stopped outside of a large hall. He stretched his limbs with a small groan that elicited laughter from his companion. “I am not used to riding so much,” he declared with a snort.

Théodred couldn’t help but grin at him. “Stay with us long enough, friend, and you will be. That can be discussed later, however,” he said with an uplifted hand as Adrien began to protest. “Come. The king awaits.”

Adrien let the comment go for now and followed the other man up a flight of stairs and through a set of double doors into the large hall. His breath caught in his throat slightly as he entered. He had never considered himself to be an artsy person like Erica, but even he could appreciate the sheer detail and craftsmanship that adorned the Golden Hall of Meduseld. His attention, however, was quickly drawn to the man awaiting them at the end of the hall.

Théoden was tall, and despite the fact that his hair was completely white, it was full and well kempt with neat braids interspersed throughout it. He was hale in every sense of the word, and his blue eyes shone with fierce intelligence as they gazed at the stranger approaching.

“Hail, Théoden King,” Théodred greeted his father with a bow, which Adrien immediately copied.

Théoden nodded to them before taking his seat. “I am glad that you have returned, Théodred, my son. I expected you yesterday, but, no doubt, you must have a tale to tell us considering the company you have brought,” the king greeted his son with hints of disapproval.

Adrien watched the exchange in growing respect for the king. Here was a man that had seen many battles and commanded his soldiers wisely. Here was a man that ruled over his people with care and caution. Here was a king. It was incredible to think of what he would become in a few short years.

“Indeed, Father, there is a tale. After delivering your message to Éomer, I was planning to return to Edoras, but orcs of Mordor were spotted crossing the Anduin. They attacked the Eastfold, but I was able to assist with those that were with me. Still, Éomer would have been lost if not for Adrien’s timely arrival. He was on his way here to beg your leave to pass through Rohan to the west so that he might return to his family,” Théodred explained concisely before clapping Adrien on the shoulder. “I gave him permission to pass through as thanks for saving Éomer but thought you might wish to give your own thanks in person.”

“My lord,” a man said as he stepped from the shadows towards the king. “I feel it is unwise to allow this stranger in our land. We know nothing of him but what he says of himself. He may be a spy of the Enemy.”

Adrien looked the man over and could readily guess at his identity, Gríma Wormtongue. He wished that he could strike the man down now and save them all from his treachery, but Kaylie had warned him about such things. As the saying went, “Better the devil you know.” So, he contented himself with folding his arms across his broad chest and glaring at the man.

The king was silent for a moment as he sat in thought. “My son may have acted hastily, but given the circumstances, I cannot find fault with his choices,” he declared before turning his blue eyes to Adrien. “Adrien, you are welcome here, and I give you my thanks for the aid you rendered to my son and my sister’s son. Please, accept my gratitude and rest in my halls for a few days before you continue on your journey.”

Adrien bowed respectfully to the king. “I give you my thanks in turn, Théoden King, and gladly accept your kind offer.”

“Thank you, Father,” Théodred said with his own bow before turning to Adrien. “Come. I will see you settled before seeing to my duties here,” he stated before turning back to the king. “Father, I plan to return to the Westfold in a few days’ time. If it pleases you, I will take Adrien with me and see him on his way to the west.”

“Very well, so be it,” the king said with a nod before dismissing them.

Théodred led the way out of the hall with Adrien following him. “That did not go as smoothly as I had hoped, but it turned out well nonetheless,” he declared with a satisfied nod.

Adrien agreed with a nod of his own, but any reply he might have made was cut off when they heard a woman’s cry behind them. They both turned to see a woman quickly approaching them. She had pale gold hair and stormy gray eyes.

“Théodred,” she cried a second time as she reached them and wrapped her arms around the man next to him. “I am glad that you have returned! We expected you yesterday!”

Théodred gave the woman, who appeared to be in her late teens an affectionate smile. “Éowyn, it is good to see you as well. I would have returned yesterday if I could have, but I was prevented,” he explained, and before she could ask what had prevented him, he continued. “Allow me to introduce you to a new friend of mine. This is Adrien.”

Éowyn turned her gray eyes on him and curtsied. “My lord.”

Adrien smiled at the lady as he took her left hand in his to bow over it. He hesitated for a moment, however, as he noticed the marking placed there, the logo of the business he had run in another lifetime. His mind whirled for a moment, but he immediately came to the conclusion to keep the information to himself since he was leaving in a few days. “Just Adrien, my lady,” he returned. “I am no lord.”

Éowyn tilted her head to the side for a moment. “Yet you have a noble air about you.”

His smile widened. “If that is so, it is only due to the company I keep,” he said with a glance at Théodred, though he was also thinking of Aragorn and the elven nobles he had spent the last several years with.

Théodred glanced between the two of them with a lifted brow before turning back to his cousin. “Adrien will be visiting us for a few days, so I hope I can leave him in your care while I see to my duties here.”

“Of course, Théodred,” she responded with a nod as her back straightened. She then turned back to Adrien. “I look forward to speaking with you more, Adrien.”

“And I you, my lady,” Adrien returned with a nod before Éowyn turned and left them.

Théodred turned and began to lead him down the hall once more. “Come. Your chamber is just ahead.”

Adrien turned as well and followed him to a comfortable, plain guest room. “Thank you again for your hospitality,” he said as he stepped into the room and turned to see his new friend shutting the door behind him.

“Éowyn bears your mark, doesn’t she,” Théodred asked as he folded his arms across his chest. “I have learned to be rather observant in my years studying under my father,” he added as Adrien stared at him.

“She does, yes,” he admitted as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Yet, you said nothing,” Théodred commented with a lifted brow and a frown.

“I am leaving Edoras in just a few days,” he reminded his new friend with a sigh. “I must return to my family.”

Théodred slumped in apparent defeat. “You are already married and have a wife and children that await you.”

Adrien’s eyes went wide. “No! No, not at all. I only meant my two sisters. Our parents are not with us, so I must look after them.”

“Then why did you remain silent,” the other asked with a furrowed brow. “Finding the one that bears your mark is not always possible and should be treasured. If you have not already wed another, why not tell Éowyn the truth?”

Despite not knowing Théodred long, Adrien could hear the undercurrent of pain in his voice and could easily surmise that he was one of those that had not yet found their soulmate. “As Éomer said before, traveling alone through the wilderness is dangerous. I do not know when or if I may return to Edoras.”

“No soldier does,” the golden-haired man pointed out seriously. “If you are concerned that Éowyn will waste away pining for you, allow me to assure you that my kinswoman is made of sterner stuff than that. Having lost her father in battle, she well knows the dangers that lie outside these halls, but she will not begrudge you the need to return to those that rely upon you. Speak to her.”

Adrien sighed but nodded. “Very well, my lord. I will do as you say and trust that things will turn out for the best in time,” he said after a few moments.

“Then I suggest that you use your time here to become better acquainted,” he said before opening the door once again. “I have duties to attend to, but I will see you at the evening meal,” he added before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

Adrien went to the bed and laid down upon it before tossing an arm across his eyes in exhaustion. A moment later, though, he removed his arm and shifted so that he could take the fingerless, leather glove from his left hand, which allowed him a better grip upon his weapon. He seldom looked at or thought about his mark since it was usually covered, but now that he looked at it once again, he had to laugh. He should have known that he would find his other half in Rohan. For, there on his left hand was a shield with the banner of Rohan emblazoned upon it, and over that was laid a sword and a white flower, one he was sure he had seen growing on the mounds outside the city.

Leaving his glove lying on the small bedside table, Adrien stood and stretched his sore limbs. He supposed that he had better get used to riding. No doubt he would be doing quite a bit of it for the remainder of his life. For now, however, he wondered if Éowyn would be willing to show him around the city.

Chapter Text

Ashlan ran through the woods of Rivendell in search of her brother. Lord Elrond had summoned them all, and she had agreed to go and find Adrien, who spent the majority of his free time wandering through the trees these days. She guessed that it had to do with what had happened a year ago when he had returned from his trip with Aragorn, though the ranger had not been with him.

Ashlan had been rather shocked when Adrien had told her and Alexis about meeting Éomer, becoming friends with Théodred, and discovering that Éowyn was his soulmate. She’d been even more shocked, when her brother had had a rather heated argument with Kaylie over returning to Rohan and saving Théodred. Adrien understood that he couldn’t keep Théoden from Saruman’s hold, but he didn’t understand how saving his new friend could change enough of the story to make a big difference. Since then, he had taken to wandering the woods of the area, training, or brooding in silence.

“Adrien,” she called as she finally spotted her sibling sitting beneath a large tree and staring out at one of Rivendell’s many waterfalls.

“What is it, Ash,” he asked as he turned his attention to her.

“Lord Elrond has called for a meeting with all of us, so I volunteered to come find you,” Ashlan replied with a shrug.

Adrien’s lips quirked up slightly. “I guess it also gave you an excuse to go for a run,” he stated as he heaved himself from the ground.

She grinned at him. “Maybe,” she admitted. “Come on. Everyone is waiting for us.” She then turned around and began to jog back the way she had come, knowing that Adrien would follow.

They quickly made their way to the main house of Rivendell and were directed to the council room where Lord Elrond had spoken to them over five years ago after they’d first arrived. “Ah, here are the final two,” the elf lord stated as they entered and quickly took their seats at the end of the table.

“We apologize if we are late,” Adrien offered as Ashlan took a glance around the room.

“It took me a bit to find him. He was off by the waterfall to the far north of the valley,” Ashlan explained as she made a note of Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, and Glorfindel’s presence. Whatever this meeting was about, it was big.

“I will be direct,” Lord Elrond said after a moment of silence. “Given what was discovered in the records of Celebrimbor, I think it is time for those of you that have not found your fëamel here in Imladris to depart.”

Ashlan stared at the elf lord as dead silence fell upon the room. Had this happened five years ago she would have been ecstatic to get out of the stuffy elven city. Even two years ago she would have been happy to travel with Aragorn and Adrien. Now, though, Rivendell felt like home, and to be told to leave seemed a bit harsh. Still, however, there was a strange bubble of excitement within coupled with a bit of fear at what lay beyond this safe haven.

“Everyone,” Cami asked in a faint voice as she turned slightly glistening eyes on her sisters.

“I promise that it’s for the best,” Kaylie tried to sooth her as Elladan moved to stand behind her chair and placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder. “And we’ll all see each other again.”

“Well then, I guess you better tell me anything that you need remembered before we leave, Kaylie,” Cait said with a small frown.

“I’m not sure this is the best course,” Adrien stated with a shake of his head. “Travelling is so dangerous, and ours would not be a small group. Most of the ladies only know the basics of combat as well! How would we make it to our destination safely, and where are we supposed to go?”

“You keep saying we,” Ashlan pointed out to her brother.

“Naturally, I would be going with you and Alexis,” he returned firmly. “And I would certainly not let any of our friends go without some kind of protection, even if it is only me.”

“When do we have to go,” Emma asked, sounding rather resigned about the whole thing.

Lord Elrond looked around the room with sympathy clearly on his face. “I think it would be best if you departed no later than next summer. Take that time to make your preparations and farewells. As for where you shall go, we will discuss that more as your departure draws closer. I believe Lothlórien would be the best choice. For, Lady Galadriel may be able to provide you with better guidance.”

Ashlan nodded along with the rest. One year. One year to prepare to say good-bye to some of her friends who were practically family at this point, even if they did not spend as much time with each other as they once did. It was certainly better than one week, but it still did not seem like very long. If they were going to be travelling, though, she would have to double up on her training sessions. No way was she going to let herself be killed by some stupid orc.

“Well,” Riley said as she stood up. “No time like the present to begin, right everyone? And cheer up! When all this is over, we’ll have one heck of a family reunion with plenty of alcohol to go around!”

Ashlan couldn’t help but laugh at that, which broke most of the remaining heavy atmosphere. Trust Riley to see the bright side of things. As she stood as well, however, a voice spoke out.

“Not Ashlan,” Aragorn stated firmly.

“Excuse me,” Ashlan said with a lifted brow as she turned her attention to the ranger.

“I will not allow you to leave Rivendell,” he answered from his place against the wall.

Ashlan couldn’t help but snort at him. “You have no say at all in what I do,” she stated incredulously. She and Aragorn barely even knew one another. He was simply Adrien’s friend!

The ranger stood straight from his leaning position and carefully removed the fingerless, leather glove that he wore upon his left hand before holding it up to reveal the mark there to her. “This says otherwise.”

Ashlan stared at the mark on his hand, a mark that she knew only she could see. She removed her own glove and stared down at the crown and the white tree that graced her hand. “Oh,” she said rather dumbly as the mark suddenly made sense. Then she looked back up at the ranger with narrowed eyes. “Wait. How long have you known?” He must have known before now. When was the last time they had even been in the same area?

Aragorn was silent for a few moments before he finally answered, “Since shortly after we first met. I caught a glimpse of your mark when you were adjusting your glove while training with your sister.”

She gaped at him. “Two years? Two years, and you didn’t say anything,” she asked as her anger began to grow. “And now! Now you tell me that I cannot leave Rivendell! How dare you? Were you ever planning to tell me,” she practically yelled at him as her fists clenched at her sides. “Never mind! I’m just… ugh!” She stomped her way to the door. She couldn’t deal with this right now.

“Estel, I am extremely disappointed in you,” Lord Elrond said from behind her as she opened the door to leave.

“We are friends, Aragorn, but you had better have a really good reason for upsetting my sister. Or I swear I am going to hit you,” Adrien practically growled as she left the council room.

Ashlan quickly made her way out of the main house of Rivendell. If she had still been in her home, she would have immediately hit the gym, but she supposed the training grounds would have to do. Not having her own weapon with her, she made her way to a small building where training swords were kept and chose one similar to her own. Then, she stepped into the ring, which was thankfully empty, and began to go through different movements that Glorfindel and Adrien had taught her.

She was in the middle of a turn to attack an imaginary foe behind her when her blade clashed against another. She jerked back in surprise and glared as Aragorn stood before her with his sword at the ready. Her anger flared, and without a word, she attacked the man in front of her.

Aragorn easily parried her attack, and the two went back and forth for several minutes before he sent her sword sailing off to the side and leveled his own at her chest. “This is why I do not want you to leave Rivendell. You cannot protect yourself in the wilds.”

“Then teach me,” Ashlan replied as she went to retrieve her sword, having spent most of her anger on the match. She had been practically dying to learn more swordsmanship, but no one was willing to teach her and Alexis, whether due to time constraints or a belief that they had no need to learn. Here, perhaps, was an opportunity at last to progress. “I cannot improve if no one is willing to show me how.”

“I cannot,” Aragorn returned with a shake of his head as he lowered his borrowed sword. “I must return to the rangers and then continue my hunt.”

“Then let me come with you,” Ashlan suggested. She was going to be leaving Rivendell anyway, so it shouldn’t make a difference if she went with the others or with Aragorn.

“No,” he answered with a shake of his head.

“Why,” she asked as she began to grow angry once more. Remembering the films, she couldn’t help but ask, “Is it because I’m not an elf?”

The man turned to her with clear confusion on his face. “Why would that make any difference?”

“I don’t know,” she shouted back at him. “You tell me! There must be some reason that you decided to reject me!”

“Reject you? I didn’t reject you. I barely know you,” he said, still clearly confused.

“Lying about being my soulmate for two years seems like a pretty clear rejection to me,” Ashlan argued as she stomped over to the building to replace her sword.

“I did not lie about it,” Aragorn returned as he followed her to replace his own sword.

“Keeping something that important from someone is still lying,” she informed him with a glare.

“I was trying to protect you,” he stated as his jaw tensed.

“From what? Hurting my feelings because you don’t want to be my soulmate,” Ashlan questioned as she brushed past him.

He gripped her shoulder and turned her back around to face him. “You stubborn, headstrong woman! I have been hunted my entire life! Did it not occur to you that Sauron would love to get his hands on my fëamel even more than on me? I am trying to keep you safe!”

Ashlan stared at his face and could see the sincerity there beneath the anger and frustration. Despite the fact that they did not know one another well, Aragorn really did take this whole soulmate thing seriously. “Then tell me, Aragorn. Who keeps you safe? Who protects you? Isn’t that my job?”

His brow furrowed in confusion as he released her. “What do you mean?”

Ashlan sighed in sudden exhaustion. “Look, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything like that, but if you even want us to be friends, then you have to treat me as an equal. If you really think that we are a fated pair or whatever, then give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking. Let me show you that I can work hard and improve, that I can protect you like you want to protect me. No one else around here is willing to trust me. As my fëamel, shouldn’t I be able to count on you for that,” she finally asked before shaking her head and walking away. Some birthday this had turned out to be.

Chapter Text

Christin sighed in relief as the woods of Lothlórien finally came into sight. They were almost there! She and her sister and their nine friends and companions had left Rivendell a week ago, and it had been a hard trek to the golden woods over Caradhras. She now had much more appreciation for the fact that the Fellowship would try to cross the mountain in winter. Even in summer, it had not been an easy crossing.

As she and the others drew closer to the woods, she thought of all that she had left behind in the hidden city. Elise and Kaylie had, of course, stayed with their respective soulmates, but so had Cami. She couldn’t blame her sister for that, naturally, but, despite what Riley continued to say about a family reunion, this separation felt rather permanent, like nothing would be the same again. As it was, Ashlan had left several months earlier with a still reluctant Aragorn, and she somehow knew that the next time she saw her friend that neither of them would be the same.

It wasn’t just the friends with whom she had arrived here that she would miss either. Arwen, through Grayson, had managed to charm them all, and she would certainly miss Silmariel and the healing house as well. The elf had become something of a mentor to her but had assured her that she would be able to continue her studies in Lothlórien.

“Is Lady Galadriel really okay with all of us just showing up like this,” Emma asked a bit nervously as they reached the first trees.

“Ada has been communicating with Haruni regularly regarding this trip. She knows to expect a large party,” Elrohir stated before holding up his hand to signal them all to stop. “Which of the marchwardens has come to greet us,” he called out.

Christin watched as a golden-haired elf stepped out of the trees as silent as the wind. He was shorter and broader than any of the elves that she had seen thus far. In fact, he was probably about the same height as Riley, who was considered rather tall. Still, it was clear that Adrien and Glorfindel towered over him, but Adrien towered over everyone except Aragorn.

“Well met, my friends,” he greeted them with a bow. “The Lady is expecting you.”

“I believe some introductions are in order,” Elladan stated to the elf, who he clearly knew.

“Not here,” the newcomer said with a shake of his head. “It is no longer safe along the borders. We should go further in, and then you can introduce me to your companions.”

Elladan and Elrohir nodded and led the way after the golden-haired elf while Christin, her sister, and their friends followed. As she walked further into the woods, she noticed a strange peace that seemed to settle around them like a blanket. It was a strange but comforting feeling, like the whole world might fall to pieces outside the woods, but it wouldn’t matter here.

After an hour of walking, they stopped once again, and their guide spoke. “We are safe enough now that we may attend to our pleasantries.”

Elladan and Elrohir made the introductions as they seemed most familiar with the elf, though he also knew Glorfindel. Then again who didn’t? From what Cait had told her, he was something of a legend among elves. When it was her turn, she curtsied politely but said nothing.

“And this is Haldir, a marchwarden of Lothlórien,” Elrohir finished as he indicated the elf before them.

“On behalf of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, I welcome you,” he said with a bow. “If you do not mind a long march, I believe we can reach Caras Galadhon shortly after sunset.”

Christin shared a look with the rest of their group and nodded with the others before Elladan stated, “I think that will be best.”

“Please, follow me, then,” Haldir declared before turning and heading east further into the woods.

Christin sighed and readjusted the pack on her back before really taking a look at the area around her. Due to the horrible allergies she had always suffered from, she had constantly avoided the various nature walks and hikes that Adrien and his sisters arranged for their group of friends regularly. Now that she no longer had to worry about sneezing and coughing every five seconds, she found that she enjoyed nice quiet walks through the woods, and the woods of Lothlórien were exquisite.

The large group travelled mostly in silence. There was simply something about the woods that compelled a sense of reverence from them. When they did speak to each other, it was in quiet tones laced with weariness after travelling for the last week. They were all anxious to reach their destination.

After another hour, Christin began to hear the sound of water rushing nearby, and in a few moments more, they came to a halt at the side of a river. With no bridge in sight, she had to wonder how they were going to cross. Her question was answered a minute later as she watched Haldir begin to tie a length of rope to a large nearby tree. He then threw the rope to a couple of waiting elves on the far side, and they tied the other end to another tree on their side.

“And now we can cross,” Haldir stated as he motioned to the rope.

There were several protests from the group, and Christin just stared at him for a moment before Elrohir spoke up. “While my brother and I could certainly cross, there are some among our party that would not be able to do so.”

The other elf glanced around at them for a moment before nodding. He shouted to the waiting elves, and within a few moments a second rope had been tied to sit above the first. “Now, we may all cross,” he declared with a satisfied nod.

Christin smiled to herself as she heard Adrien muttering behind her. No doubt he was wondering if the rope would hold him, but Haldir had also clearly heard him.

“Fear not, Adrien. Rope made of hithlain is much stronger than it appears,” he stated with a grin before nimbly climbing his way onto the rope and crossing quickly.

“I’ll go last,” Adrien declared firmly with a shake of his head. “Just to be safe.”

“Should we remove our gloves,” Erica asked with a doubtful glance down to her left hand.

“I think you should,” Alexis replied with a nod. “They are slick and will do you no good in trying to hold onto the rope unlike mine,” she finished as she held up her own leather-clad hand.

The ladies all nodded before removing their gloves from their left hand. Christin tucked hers into the belt at her waist. It wasn’t entirely proper, she supposed, but they were among mostly close friends and family. So, it shouldn’t be seen as too unseemly.

“Maybe we won’t have to wear them at all here,” Caitlyn whispered to her. “I don’t mind usually, but it’s summer. And they just make it feel that much warmer!”

“Come along, friends! We still have several miles to go yet,” Haldir called to them from across the river.

“Let us take the bags over first,” Elladan suggested. “It will make it easier for the others to cross.”

Elrohir nodded, and between him, his brother, and Glorfindel, they soon had all the bags across the river and were just waiting on the others to cross.

“I’ll go first,” Alexis said with a shrug before climbing onto the bottom rope with a bit of assistance from her brother. “It’s not that bad,” she called back to her friends when she was about halfway along.

Riley and Erica soon followed their friend, and then, Grayson went with a rather skittish Emma. Caitlyn went after them, and then it was Christin’s turn. She slowly made her way up onto the rope and then carefully took one step after another. Luckily, she had no fear of heights or drowning to slow her down. Still, it was best to be careful.

When Christin was about halfway along the rope, it shifted suddenly beneath her. She knew that Adrien must have finally climbed up onto it, and she had been prepared for the added stress upon the rope. However, she had not been prepared for just how much both ropes had shifted. As she tried to correct her balance, she lost her grip on the second rope and soon found herself plunging into the river below.

By the time Christin surfaced, she had already been swept downstream several dozen feet as the current was rather strong, but the water, though a bit chilly, was not overly cold. Luckily, she was also a rather strong swimmer, having loved water most of her life. So, she kept her wits, didn’t panic, and began to swim against the current to the opposite bank. It was hard going considering the dress she was wearing and the fact that she was rather out of practice, but she did eventually reach the other side where Haldir, Glorfindel, and most of the rest of her party were waiting.

“Grab onto my hand,” Haldir instructed her as he lay on the ground with his hand outstretched to help her climb the rather steep bank.

Christin did as she was told and quickly grabbed onto his outstretched hand, and with his and Glorfindel’s help, she was soon able to climb up onto the bank. “Well, that was refreshing,” she commented as she began to wring her silver hair out. “At least my pack escaped. I would be really angry if all my bandages and herbs were ruined.”

“Are you alright,” Caitlyn asked in clear concern as she knelt beside her.

Christin waved her off. “I’m fine. Just wet,” she said with a frown. It was going to be a rather uncomfortable march to Caras Galadhon at this rate.

“I’m so sorry, Chris,” Adrien quickly apologized as he joined them.

“It’s not your fault, Adrien,” she assured him with a shake of her head as she tried to squeeze water from the bottom of her skirt. “I’m glad it was me that fell. At least, I’m a strong swimmer.”

“It is also good that it is summer and not winter or spring when the river is at its strongest,” Haldir commented as he held a hand out to her. “If you are not injured, then we should continue on our way.”

Christin took his outstretched hand in her left and realized that she had yet to put her glove back on. Once she was standing, she reached for the glove at her belt only to find it missing. It wasn’t really that surprising. “It seems I have lost my glove,” she stated with a sigh.

“You can use my extra,” Caitlyn said as they moved towards their packs so that they could start again.

“You will not need it,” Haldir stated before Caitlyn could start digging through her things.

“What do you mean,” Erica asked curiously.

“The Lord and Lady will probably explain this to you, but here in Lothlórien we are not as strict about hiding our marks,” he began a bit awkwardly. “The elves in Imladris are mostly Noldorin, and they hide their marks because of their history. The elves here are mostly Silvan and Sindarin in heritage, so we are not as concerned about such things. We do not flaunt our marks, but we do not hide them either. Even if we did follow the same custom as our kin over the mountains, Eliril would no longer need to hide hers,” he said with a significant glance at her left hand.

“Oh,” Christin asked in confusion before she finally understood. “Oh,” she stated followed by a third, “Oh,” as everything began to sink in. Now, she knew how Cami had felt when realizing that a complete stranger was her soulmate. “Well, we should probably resume our journey,” she said before motioning him to lead the way.

“Chris, is he,” Caitlyn started to ask, but Christin cut her off.

“Not now, Cait,” she said with a shake of her head. She needed time to think about this. Then she shook her head. What was there to think about? The facts seemed pretty plain.

“Will you walk with me, Eliril,” Haldir asked as they started moving again.

She nodded and joined him at the front of the group. After a few moments of silence, she finally said, “So, you are my fëamel.”

“Yes, it would seem so,” he replied with a nod. “The mark upon your left hand is the same that I bear upon my cloak. It is a mark of the marchwardens of Lothlórien and of my rank among them,” he explained.

Christin stared down at her hand for a moment and then at the clasp of his cloak. The markings were identical. “I did not notice,” she said with a shake of her head. Would she have ever realized that Haldir was her match if not for falling into the river?

“How could you when you kept your mark covered,” Haldir asked quietly in a sad tone. “When you hide something for too long, it becomes forgotten.”

“Is that why the Elves argue over it,” she asked curiously.

Haldir glanced down at her with a furrowed brow. “Are not you an elf? Yet, you speak as if you are not.”

“Ah, that is a long story,” Christin stated quickly. She wondered if it would be wise to tell Haldir the truth of their origins and decided that she would ask Lady Galadriel her opinion on the matter. She was supposed to be really wise, wasn’t she? That was why Lord Elrond had sent them to talk to her, after all.

Her companion looked at her for another moment before turning back to the path. “I would not say that we argue over it,” he stated to answer her earlier question. “We allow them to act as they choose, and they do the same for us.”

Christin nodded. “I suppose it does not make much sense to hide a mark that can only be seen by one other person anyway,” she mused after another moment of silence. “No one else but you would see anything on my left hand if they looked at it.”

“Exactly,” Haldir agreed with a pleased smile at her. “It seems an extreme measure to me, and why should we punish ourselves by making it more difficult to find our matches because of an error committed by another many years ago?”

Christin hummed thoughtfully to herself but remained silent. She didn’t think Lord Elrond and the other elves in Rivendell saw hiding their marks as a self-inflicted punishment. It was more reverence, she thought, than anything else. The marks were so special to them that they wore physical reminders of just how important they were.

The two continued to walk in silence until Haldir spoke again. “You are a healer?”

“I was studying healing in Imladris,” she replied with a nod before adding, “and I hope to continue to study here.”

“I am sure the healers will welcome another skilled in their art,” he stated as they reached the top of a rise and a more open area. “There is Caras Galadhon, the home of my lord and lady,” he stated with pride as he pointed it out.

Christin looked over the view and had to admire it as her friends and sister joined them. “It is lovely.”

“Despite our misfortune earlier, we are making good time and will arrive this evening,” Haldir declared with a pleased nod. “Come! Let us continue.”

They continued to hike for several more hours, and though Christin stayed near the front with Haldir, the two remained quiet, clearly lost in their own thoughts. Soon, however, Christin was brought back to her surroundings as they entered the Elven city and she saw the mallorn trees for the first time, glowing in the moonlight. “They are so beautiful.”

“Lady Galadriel brought the first one to our city many years ago. They are the most beloved trees of our people,” Haldir explained as they continued towards the largest of these trees. When they reached its base, he called up into the branches. “Lower the ladder! Our visitors from Imladris have arrived!”

A moment later, Christin saw a ladder unfurl from above until it reached the base of the tree. It appeared to be made of the same material as the ropes from before, hithlain she supposed. She followed the rope ladder with her eyes as it disappeared into the foliage above them.

“It is a long climb,” Haldir warned them before adding, “but do not worry. There are platforms along the way where you may rest if needed.”

Since she was at the front of the group, Christin took a deep breath before scrambling up the ladder. She kept her eyes focused on each rung and continued to climb. It was best not to look up or down. After quite a while, she finally reached the top and stepped to the side to catch her breath while her friends and sister finished their own climbs.

Once they had all reached the top and recovered from their climb, Haldir led them further onto the large platform. A set of stairs took them further into the tree’s branches, and as they reached the top, they came face to face with two positively radiant elves. The lady was tall, as tall as Adrien, and her lord matched her in height. Her hair seemed to nearly glow in streaks of gold and silver while his was all the latter. Both appeared noble and graceful. These two, then, must be Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. She curtsied along with the rest of her group in greeting.

“Welcome to Lothlórien,” Lord Celeborn greeted them with a respectful nod. “Elrond told us to expect your arrival, and everything has been prepared for your stay.” He then turned to his wife who remained silent for a few more seconds.

“So many paths,” she stated quietly as she looked over the group. “So many important choices.” She then seemed to shake off her gravity for a moment and smiled beautifully at them. “We are especially happy to welcome our kin once more,” she said as she beamed at Elladan, Elrohir, and… Glorfindel. Was he related to them? “I know why you have come, and it was wise for Elrond to send you. I will meet with each of you individually, I believe,” she said as she tilted her head slightly. She then turned towards a waiting servant. “Please, show our guests to the area that has been prepared for them. Haldir,” she said turning back to their group, “I will speak with you and Eliril first.”

Christin swallowed as Haldir nodded his understanding. She watched as the rest of her group gradually departed and gave Cait as reassuring a smile as she could manage before her sister disappeared into the surrounding branches.

“Come, friends, take tea with me,” Galadriel said as she indicated a small table in the corner of the area that had four settings for tea all ready.

Christin moved slowly to the table and took the seat across from Lady Galadriel. Lord Celeborn sat to her right while Haldir took the seat to her left. The lady silently and gracefully served them all before turning her piercing eyes on her.

“I am sorry to insist that you stay behind. I am sure that you wish to change into a clean dress after your ordeal earlier today, but I promise that I will not keep you long,” the lady began with a gentle smile, and Christin could only nod. “The two of you have found one another, and that, by itself, it a wondrous occurrence that should not be ignored,” she said with a glance towards Haldir who seemed to squirm a little under her gaze. “You only need time, so I trust that you will make your home here, Eliril. Our healers will welcome you, and you may continue your studies with them.”

“Thank you, hiril-nin,” she replied quietly. “I enjoy being able to help others and will look forward to furthering my knowledge.”

She nodded her agreement and then looked at them both more seriously. “We live in dark times, but do not allow fear to rule your hearts,” she cautioned before turning to Christin again. “Now, Eliril, I think it is best if you tell us the truth of your origins.”

Christin’s eyes went wide, and she glanced at Haldir nervously.

“I know that Elrond cautioned you against it, and his council should not be dismissed easily, for it is wise. However, as your fëamel, Haldir should know and will understand,” Lady Galadriel told her before sipping at her tea and waiting for Christin to speak.

She took a deep breath, glanced at the three individuals at the table with her, and then began her tale.

Chapter Text

Erica looked around at the changing leaves of the woods around them and thought about all that had occurred since their arrival in – she still slightly shuddered if she thought about it too much – Middle-Earth. It had been extremely difficult for her to accept the fact that she was an elf now. She still wasn’t quite sure if she had, but the fact of the matter was that she hadn’t aged a day since her arrival and acquisition of pointed ears while Riley, a full year younger than her, looked her age of thirty. All her still human friends appeared aged while none of her elven ones did. It was a constant sobering reminder that their lives would never be the same.

Once the distraction of lessons had ended, she had taken up painting to help divert her and work through her turmoil of emotions. She had taken a couple of painting classes before but had always preferred photography. But, seeing as how cameras wouldn’t be invented for who knows how many hundreds of years, she thought it best to work with what was available. With the assistance of some of the nicer and more patient ladies of Rivendell, she had become extremely proficient in the art, and it had brought her a sense of peace and acceptance to her situation.

Then, Kaylie had found that old scroll, and peace had been shattered. Her world had been turned on its head once more.

She supposed she couldn’t really complain that much. The fifteen months they had spent in Lothlórien had been restful and peaceful, almost to the extreme. She had had many chances to paint beautiful scenes there, but she had begun to feel restless for some reason. She could tell she wasn’t the only one either.

Chris had spent an ever-increasing amount of time with Haldir, leaving Cait rather forlorn. Adrien seemed to grow more serious and somber by the day. Grayson, Glorfindel, Elladan, and Elrohir had grown anxious to return to Rivendell. In fact, when it came time to leave the Golden Woods, the twins had opted to return to their home instead of continuing with them. While Grayson and Glorfindel certainly wished to do the same, they also knew that their ladies would not appreciate them leaving their friends with only Adrien for solid protection. Alexis, Riley, and Emma seemed just as anxious to move on as she was. If they were going to be forced to travel, there was no real reason to wait, was there?

She sighed as she thought over Lady Galadriel’s words to her. The elven lady had cautioned her about her temper and advised her not to make assumptions and to be patient. She wasn’t quite sure what the lady was referring to exactly, but she was sure she would find out soon enough, especially given their destination.

Lady Galadriel had advised them to travel east to Mirkwood, and while she had secured King Thranduil’s permission for the party to do so, Erica got the impression that the permission was rather reluctantly given. When she thought about what little she knew about the woods around her, she supposed she could understand to an extent.

Despite the changing colors of the foliage that surrounded her and prompted her to break out her paints as soon as she could, the woods were just creepy. She was grateful that the king had at least thought enough to send them guides as she could not even imagine being lost in such a place. The soldiers were constantly on guard as they travelled as were those in her party that were more comfortable with weapons than she was. That alone told her that this place was nothing like Rivendell or Lothlórien, and she very much suspected that its king would not resemble the other elven leaders she had met.

“The entrance to King Thranduil’s halls is ahead,” their main guide called back to them, calling Erica back to the present.

“Thank goodness,” she said aloud. They had been travelling through the woods for days, and she would be happy to be at their destination and away from the creepy trees.

“Agreed,” Emma stated from behind her in a slightly wheezing voice. She had been struggling to keep up with the rest of the group since they left Rivendell. She had never been one for physical exercise, and neither had Erica. But being an elf did come with certain perks.

“You can do it, Em,” Riley encouraged the younger woman. “It’s not much farther.”

Emma did not reply, and the party continued in silence until they crossed a narrow bridge and reached a large set of double doors. Their guides nodded to the soldiers that stood on guard at the doors and led them into the cave system that lay beyond.

Erica was rather impressed with King Thranduil’s halls. The caves and winding hallways were smooth and well-lit by many lanterns, and they passed several servants and soldiers along their path, all of whom seemed startled to see them. She supposed that Mirkwood didn’t see visitors often, which made sense, given the sheer creepiness of the woods and the fact that there didn’t seem to be much of a path. Their guides led them through another set of double doors, and all further thoughts of the woods ceased.

The doors opened into an immense hall, and at its center was a massive carven throne. Erica had to guess that this area served as an audience chamber. For all around the sides of the large cave were alcoves where she thought people could stand or sit and watch the proceedings. Between the throne and the door was a long walkway that was probably used to impress and intimidate visitors, and on the throne was the king.

As they approached the monarch, Erica took the chance to study him. Like Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond, King Thranduil wore power like a cloak. He was regal and commanding, but unlike the other two, he exuded no warmth. Lord Elrond had been cautious but welcoming, wise and kind. Lady Galadriel had been ethereal and powerful but still gentle. The king, on the other hand, seemed cold and unreachable.

Physically, he was beautiful as all elves seemed to be. Even though he was sitting, she could tell that he was tall, probably as tall as Adrien. His hair was such a pale gold that it seemed almost silver. His high cheekbones came down into a pointed chin, and his high brow was topped with a crown that appeared to be made of autumn leaves. How it was staying in place, she could not fathom, but more than anything, she wanted to paint this cold, regal elf.

“Ar-nin, the company from Lothlórien has arrived,” their lead guide stated after they reached the king’s throne and greeted him respectfully. His very aura seemed to demand it.

The king nodded and flicked his right hand towards them. “You may go,” he stated as he looked over the group. Once their guides were gone, he stood from his throne in one easy, graceful motion and descended the few stairs that led to it to stand in front of them. “Make no mistake. I do not welcome you here,” he began in a cold tone. “You are here on the word of Celeborn alone that you are neither spies of the Enemy nor mean my kingdom any harm. I have given my word that you may reside in my woods for two winters only. While you are here, you will work and train. I will have Galion show you to your chambers,” he finished as he turned from them but stopped halfway through the motion.

Erica listened in astonishment at the king’s speech. What a jerk! If he didn’t want them there, then why bother allowing them to stay at all? She certainly didn’t need him and his creepy woods. She’d be just as happy to go back to Rivendell. Her astonishment turned to confusion as the king’s icy blue eyes seemed to catch on something as he turned, and he rather forcefully shoved Riley and Alexis, whom she had been standing behind, out of the way before snatching up her left hand.

He held it up in front of him and traced the mark that decorated the back of her hand. “Thousands of years I have waited through multiple ages of this world,” he said quietly before he seemed to recall himself and dropped her hand as if it was on fire. He then turned and went back to his throne to pull a hidden rope there.

Erica looked at her friends in disbelief. Surely, surely, there was no way that her soulmate was this unfeeling dirtbag! He’d just told them that he didn’t even want them there! What kind of person does that? Well, soulmate or not, she certainly had no intentions of allowing him to push her around, even if he was the king.

A moment later, another elf appeared. “Galion, please show our new arrivals to the rooms that have been prepared for them,” the king instructed, and Galion bowed.

“My lords and ladies, please follow me,” he said respectfully before leading them back out into the hallway.

Erica turned to follow her friends, happy to put some distance between her and the king, but she was stopped almost immediately.

“No! Not you! Not the elven lady with the dark hair,” the king exclaimed.

Erica sighed and waved her concerned friends off before turning back towards the king’s throne.

“Come here,” he demanded once the doors were closed behind her.

“I do have a name,” she stated rather crossly at being ordered around.

He blinked once at her. “I do not know it.”

“Well, you could have asked,” she snapped as she crossed her arms and refused to take a step forward.

“What is your name then,” he asked as he stepped towards her instead.

“Lamaeneth,” she answered, though she was tempted to keep the information to herself.

“A fitting name, it seems. Perhaps, though, Lachadis would have been better,” he replied with a derisive sniff.

“I am sure I could come up with some better names for you as well,” she returned with a roll of her eyes.

She could see his jaw clench. “You are rather disrespectful to one that has shown you and your companions generosity.”

“Such generosity,” she exclaimed in clear mockery. “Should I fall on my knees before you and thank you for telling us that we aren’t welcome here before you demanded that I stay behind and ordered me about as if I were a servant? And that was after you realized that I was your fëamel!”

“I didn’t have to let you all enter my kingdom,” he reminded her through gritted teeth. “That is generosity, and I have a right to give orders and be obeyed as the king here.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have bothered, and if you think I’m going to follow your every command like some sort of pet, you can forget it. You may be my fëamel, but I have done perfectly well without you for nearly thirty-two years. I’m sure I can continue just as well from now on,” she seethed before turning around and storming out of the room amid the king’s protests.

The king’s last hurt expression bothered Erica as she stomped her way through the halls searching for someone that could direct her to Riley’s room. She pushed the thought aside, however. If the king was hurt, he deserved it. He’d been an egotistical jerk! She stopped the first servant she came upon and asked as nicely as she could manage to be directed to Riley’s room. She needed to rant, and she knocked on the door much harder than normal when she reached the correct room.

“Oh dear,” Riley said simply as she opened the door to allow Erica in. “What happened,” she asked as she closed the door.

Erica was surprised to find Emma there as well, and the younger woman simply shrugged and gestured to the two beds to indicate that she and Riley were sharing. She shook it off and turned to Riley to answer her question in very loud tones and punctuated with plenty of expletives.

“Yikes, Erica,” Riley said with a shake of her head as she sat on her bed. “That really didn’t go well, huh? Maybe you could have handled it a bit better,” she suggested before quickly adding, “Don’t get me wrong. He does seem like all the things you said, but maybe he’s got his reasons just like you’ve got yours.”

Erica frowned for a moment as she leaned against the wall in thought.

“Riley is right,” Emma said a bit tentatively. “Not much is known about Thranduil from the books, and maybe Kaylie knows more. But his dad died in the Last Alliance along with two-thirds of the people that went with him. That’s how Thranduil became king, and I imagine it wasn’t easy coming back with so few people, especially with the evil junk they’ve been having to deal with.”

“What evil junk,” Erica asked with a tilt of her head.

“Well, there’s all the giant spiders that keep attacking, and there was the dragon and the whole Battle of Five Armies. That was probably fifty or sixty years ago now. The dragon, not the spiders. And I think Gollum may be here now. I’m not sure on the timing of that,” Emma answered with a shrug.

“Even so, that doesn’t give him the right to act like he did,” Erica reiterated, though much less strongly.

“No, it doesn’t,” Riley agreed with a shake of her head.

“Still, I effed this up badly, didn’t I,” Erica asked as she ran a hand through her dark hair. Lady Galadriel’s words came ringing back to her, and she groaned. “That’s what she meant about keeping my temper and the whole thing about being patient and not making assumptions. Ugh… I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you aren’t,” Riley argued as she went to Erica and dragged her to sit beside her on the bed. “You were merely being your typical protective self, and you can still make things right! All you have to do is explain your side of things and allow him to explain his. Maybe you can get to know each other after you put this behind you! I mean he’s your soulmate. That’s got to mean something, right?”

Erica smiled at her friend who always had a way of cheering the rest of them on and up. If truth be told, she was probably angrier over the fact that he was her soulmate and had acted that way. It had felt as if fate were screwing her over again just as it had with her parents. She wasn’t really a romantic or anything, but she had seen her friends and their matches together. Even though each of the pairings had their issues, they all seemed stupidly happy at the core of things. She hadn’t realized that she had been hoping for the same until now when her match seemed to be such a cold-hearted, control freak.

“Well, there’s no time like the present,” Erica said as she stood. “Hopefully, I can at least convince him not to kick us out into the, apparently, spider infested woods or throw us in the dungeon.”

“Please do,” Emma said rather seriously as she shuddered.

Erica nodded. “Wish me luck,” she said as she left the room. She quickly flagged down another servant and asked about the king’s whereabouts. The lady nervously pointed her in the right direction, and she reached the indicated door to the king’s study long before she was ready. She gathered her courage, however, and knocked firmly.

“I ordered that I was not to be disturbed,” the king’s angry voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Erica shrugged, thinking that was as much invitation as she was likely to get and slowly cracked the door. “Well, we both already know that I’m not very good at following orders,” she quipped weakly as she took in the state of the room.

Papers were strewn about the floor as if the king had angrily swiped everything from his desk, and the king himself sat behind it with a glass and a bottle of dark liquid in front of him. He looked up at her, frowned, and poured himself another glass of what appeared to be wine. “What do you want,” he asked tersely.

Erica stepped gingerly into the room and closed the door softly behind her. She carefully stepped around the papers, which were probably important and took the seat across from him. “Do you have another glass,” she asked, indicating the bottle.

The king blinked at her for a moment but obligingly went to a side cabinet and fetched a second glass. He then returned and poured her a generous amount of the wine before retaking his seat. “It’s strong,” he warned as she brought the glass to her lips.

“I’m used to strong,” she replied and hoped it was still true. She sputtered a bit after the first sip. It was much stronger than even the strongest vintages she’d been able to find in Rivendell, like a fruity vodka.

“I warned you,” the king stated with a somewhat satisfied smirk.

“You did,” she agreed before taking another sip, much more prepared this time. She then set the glass down and turned to him fully. “I came to apologize. I should not have lost my temper as I did, but my companions are practically my family. I could not remain silent when they were treated so rudely.”

“I merely spoke the truth,” the king stated as he stared at his glass. “I do not welcome strangers to my land in these dark times. My people rely upon me to keep them safe and that means being cautious.”

“But Lord Celeborn told you that we meant no harm,” Erica pointed out.

“Which is the only reason I allowed you to enter my kingdom,” he assured her stonily. “Still, you could be spies that somehow bewitched my friend.”

“Do you really believe that,” she asked with a lifted brow.

He remained silent for several moments as he swirled the liquid in his glass before taking a sip. “No,” he admitted. “Not since you are among them. After waiting for you for so long, it would be impossible for me to believe you a spy for the Enemy. Yet, you dismissed me, saying that you could easily continue your life.”

Erica winced at that. “Yes, well, I was angry. I am afraid I have a short temper, and I was faced with the fact that my fëamel appears to be a cold-hearted, rude individual who expects me to obey his every whim.”

She saw his jaw tighten. “I am the king here, and I must maintain control to protect my kingdom and its people. My orders must be obeyed for everyone’s safety.”

“How long have you been king,” she asked curiously.

“More than three thousand years,” he replied with a small sigh.

“You do not think that in three thousand years that your people have come to trust you,” she asked pointedly. “You do not trust that they would still obey your commands in a dangerous situation if you were kinder? If anything, I think they would do so more willingly, knowing that you have their best interests at heart.”

The king was silent and thoughtful, and the two sipped their wine in the quiet of his study for many minutes before she spoke again to drive her point home.

“Would you like to know what that mark on your hand means,” she asked as she looked at the butterfly gracing the back of his hand that matched the tattoo she had once had minus the script that had gone with it. “Change is a choice. No one changes for the better or the worse unless they choose to do so. A caterpillar will never become a butterfly without getting into the cocoon.”

“Wise words for one so young,” the king commented before finishing his glass and pouring another. He topped off hers while he was at it. “You indicated earlier that you were only thirty-one. Are you half elven?”

“I don’t think so, but I used to be human,” Erica answered, throwing caution to the wind. She chuckled a bit as the king stared at her before launching into an explanation of her history, which took the rest of the current bottle of wine to get through.

The king reciprocated, and over a second bottle of wine told her some of his own history. Emma had been correct. Coming back from the Last Alliance had been disastrous, and the kingdom had been in chaos. He had apparently had a younger brother who was already married to his soulmate, and some of the people had wanted him to take the throne since it would make it more secure. He had fought down every objection, however, and she supposed that really explained the whole cold-hearted dirtbag mask he seemed to wear. Though, she supposed, deep down he could still be a cold-hearted dirtbag, but she didn’t think he was.

When he ceased speaking, and they had drunk their final glasses, she couldn’t help but ask, “Just how old are you?”

“Elves don’t bother counting as most of us live too long to bother, but I was born at the end of the first age,” he replied with a rather inelegant, for him, shrug.

Erica’s head was starting to feel a bit fuzzy, but she could remember that there were at least three thousand years in the second age. And it was currently 3016. “That means you’re at least six thousand years old!”

“I think I passed sixty-five hundred several decades ago,” he stated with a careless wave of his hand.

She grinned at him and giggled slightly, a clear sign that the alcohol was hitting her. “You’re very beautiful for someone that old. I can’t wait to paint you!”

“Paint me,” he inquired with an amused smile.

She nodded, which seemed like a bad idea when things kept moving slightly. “I used to do photography, but you guys don’t have cameras. I didn’t want to wait for hundreds of years for them to be made, so I paint! Your eyes and hair are going to give me such trouble,” she said with a pout as she thought about the colors. They would be nearly impossible to replicate.

“I suppose I will look forward to your attempt, but for now, it is best if you retire. It has grown late,” he said as he stood from his seat and then helped her from hers.

Erica swayed slightly, but the king’s strong grip on her elbows kept her upright. “I was serious before, you know. If you aren’t nice, I’m not going to stay. I don’t want to stay where I’m not wanted. Had enough of that with my parents.”

“Your parents,” he questioned with lifted brows.

“Yeah, they didn’t want me, so I made my own family. So, be nice to them, or I’ll leave when they do,” she said as she poked him in the chest.

“Duly noted,” he replied before leading her out of the room. “You’ve had too much to drink, so I will escort you to your room. I will say, though, that you lasted quite a while. Even Legolas would have succumbed halfway through the second bottle.”

Erica wasn’t sure what he was talking about exactly at this point, but she did know that he was right about the drinking. She clung to his arm until he led her to a room and opened the door for her. Then she turned around and pulled him down towards her before kissing his cheek. “Night, Thran! I hope we can be friends,” she declared before entering the room and promptly passing out on the nearest bed.

Chapter Text

Caitlyn sighed as her arrow thunked into one of the outer rings. She had been hoping that practicing her archery would distract her, but it hadn’t done any good. She made her way to the target and removed the arrows before heading back towards her room to change out of her training gear.

Today was her twenty-ninth birthday, and it was the first one she would ever spend without her two sisters. Before leaving Lothlórien, Lady Galadriel had told her that she needed to find her own path as her sisters had done, and she was trying. But she was at a bit of a loss. The scroll that Kaylie had found seemed to indicate that they were supposed to help in the upcoming war, but she was only passable at archery. And her sword skills were still only good enough to hold off any enemy until help arrived. She wasn’t like Lexi.

Thinking of her friend made her smile as she changed clothes. Her friends had all surprised her this morning by bursting into the room she was sharing with Erica and singing “Happy Birthday” to her as off key as possible. It had made her laugh while she tried to cover her ears to block out the horrid cacophony. She appreciated them remembering even though there could be no gifts, not when they had been travelling, and times were dark.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Just a moment,” she called out as she quickly finished changing clothes.

When she opened the door a few minutes later, she found a servant on the other side. “Forgive me, hiril-nin, King Thranduil has asked if you would be willing to entertain him during the evening meal tonight. His son has returned victorious from battle, and there is to be a celebration.”

“Yes, of course,” Caitlyn answered with a nod and a smile.

“Thank you, hiril-nin,” he returned with a bow and left.

Once the servant was gone, Caitlyn left her chamber and made her way to the music room to practice for the evening. She was still surprised by the king’s change in behavior towards them, even a month later. When they’d first arrived, he seemed like he couldn’t get rid of them fast enough. That night, though, she’d been woken up by a drunken Erica falling on top of her, smelling strongly of wine, and the next morning, after her friend had recovered, she’d told her about how she and King Thranduil had had a heart to heart over a couple of bottles of wine. Since then, he’d been much more polite to them.

One of the oddest things that Erica had shared with her about their conversation was that Legolas was not Thranduil’s biological son. The king had found him hidden in a tree after several elven houses along the border had been destroyed by orcs and adopted him as his heir since he’d given up hope of ever finding his own match.At that point, the king’s younger brother had also died in battle, and his sister-in-law had sailed west, leaving no children behind to inherit.

As she entered the music room, she had to wonder what this version of Legolas would be like. Would he still be a hot head like in the films? She looked forward to finding out later that evening, but she set her thoughts aside as she went to work picking out songs for the evening and practicing them. As she fell into the rhythms and sounds of the songs, she lost track of time.

Her playing was interrupted when a servant entered. “I apologize for interrupting you, hiril-nin,” the elf said with a curtsy. “But the evening meal will be starting soon.”

“Oh,” Caitlyn said, quickly standing. “Thank you! I am afraid I lost track of time.”

“You are welcome, hiril-nin,” she said before curtsying and hurrying away.

Caitlyn went quickly to her room to freshen up before making her way to the banquet hall. Since she had lost track of the hour, she would have to eat after the feast was over. She took her seat behind the harp that stood off to the side of the top of the table and made herself comfortable. She had only been seated for a few moments when the feasters began to arrive. When a golden-haired elf took the seat next to the king’s, she could only assume that it was Legolas. She didn’t have time to ponder much about him as she began to play softly once the king was seated.

Caitlyn continued to play for the next few hours as the elves welcomed home their victorious prince and his soldiers. As the evening wore on, the feast finally ended, and she was surprised when the king called to her.

“Lady Gliril,” King Thranduil addressed her and waited for her fingers to still before continuing. “You have delighted us this evening with your music, and I thank you.”

“You are most welcome, ar-nin,” she answered with a respectful nod as she was still stationed behind the harp.

“Might we trouble you for a song or two,” the king asked.

“Of course,” she replied with a nod. “Do you have any specific song in mind?”

“Do you know the song ‘Under the Trees,’” the prince asked with a tilt of his head as sky-blue eyes turned to her.

She nodded once more and began to play. The song in question told the story of a maiden who was waiting for her love to return from war. A blackbird stops her as she wanders through the woods, and the two converse about her situation. While the blackbird tries to convince her that her love has died as all the other warriors have returned, the maiden holds out hope that her love will still return. The audience is left to decide with whom they side, but the performer sides with the maiden. It was a longer song, but it was one she enjoyed performing as the music for the blackbird and the maiden brought the characters to life.

When she was finished, she closed her eyes and took a couple of deep, steadying breaths. The song had taken more energy than she had anticipated, and it did not go unnoticed.

“Thank you, Lady Gliril,” the king said to her with a nod. “We have wearied you enough tonight, and you may go,” he said as he stood and turned to his son. “Come, Legolas. Let us retire to my study, and you can tell me more of what occurred.”

Caitlyn stood and curtsied to the two royals before slowly making her way towards the doors of the hall. As she did, however, she began to feel lightheaded and swayed on her feet slightly for a moment. She paused as she felt strong hands grip her arms to steady her and looked up into the eyes of Prince Legolas.

“Are you well, hiril-nin,” he asked in concern as he looked over her face.

She nodded as she felt herself blush in embarrassment. “I will be well, ernil-nin,” she assured him before stepping back. “I simply need to find my way to the kitchens,” she said as she glanced up at him. She lifted her hand to move some hair behind her ear. “Thank you again,” she began before her hand was seized by the elf in front of her.

“It’s you,” he said in a voice filled with awe. “I can hardly believe it! You are my fëamel,” he exclaimed as he held up his own hand for her to see.

Caitlyn stared at his hand which clearly showed a bar of music, and a quick glance was all it took for her to recognize the music as that of a song that held importance to her. She then took her hand from him and looked at her own mark, an arrow strung to a bow and lying upon a large, green leaf. “Oh, green leaf,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I see now.”

“Legolas,” the king called sternly. “Come! We have business to discuss.”

“Ada, I found my fëamel,” he cried as he turned to look at his father. He moved to the side a little as he did so, and Caitlyn could see the king looking at her with a lifted brow.

“Is that so,” the king asked as he approached them. “Lamaeneth will be pleased, I believe, that she will not be left behind when the others depart.”

“Oh, I…,” Caitlyn began, but she could not seem to think straight. Was Erica going to be her mother-in-law? That seemed extremely strange, and she couldn’t seem to focus on anything else as the two elves continued speaking. “Excuse me,” she said a bit hastily before turning and hurrying towards the door. She had only gone a few steps before the world tilted, and she felt herself falling as everything went black.

When Caitlyn next became conscious of her surroundings, the first thing she noticed was someone humming nearby. She blinked her eyes open to see an unfamiliar ceiling. When she turned her head towards the sound, she found Legolas sitting in a chair beside the bed on which she was lying.

“You’re awake,” he cried, and she winced. “Forgive me,” he said in a much softer tone. “I am simply happy to see that you are recovering. The healer said that you simply needed food and rest.”

Caitlyn slowly began to sit up, and Legolas immediately tried to assist her. When she waved him away, he hovered nearby, clearly unsure what to do before retaking his seat. “Clearly, I fainted,” she stated once she was sitting up straight. “How long was I asleep?”

“Not long,” Legolas assured her. “Less than an hour. I have a tray here from the kitchens if you would like to eat now,” he offered, and when she nodded, he quickly fetched the tray and placed it carefully in her lap.

“Thank you,” she told him as she turned her attention to the light meal.

“You gave me quite a fright when you fainted, Lady Gliril,” Legolas commented after a moment.

“I apologize, ernil-nin,” she replied before shaking her head. “I am afraid it has been a rather strange begetting day for me.”

“It is your begetting day,” Legolas repeated with a happy grin. “How fortunate that we would meet on such a day! But,” he continued in a more serious tone, “you seemed distressed earlier. Even now, you do not seem well in mind. What troubles you?”

Caitlyn looked closely at the elf sitting next to her. They had not even been properly introduced though they knew the other’s name. Still, he was her soulmate, wasn’t he? So, she mentally shrugged and threw caution to the wind. “I have two sisters, ernil-nin, who share my begetting day with me as we are triplets. This is the first time that we have ever had to celebrate separately. One of my sisters isinImladris. The other is in Lothlórien. Although my friends have done their best to help me enjoy the day, it still does not feel right without them here with me.”

“I think I understand,” he replied gently. “I have no siblings myself, but I have known Lord Elrond’s sons for many years. I have never known them not to be together. I know that we hardly know each other, but may I ask why you are all separated?”

“Oh, it is nothing bad,” Caitlyn said quickly. She did not want him to think poorly of Chris and Cami. “They have simply found their matches elsewhere. In fact, Cami’s is Elladan.”

“I see,” Legolas said with a nod before adding, “Elladan must have been ecstatic.”

“He was,” she said with a small laugh before explaining how he had tripped over Cami. She then went on to tell him about Chris and Haldir. “Hmm… it seems we all just fall for our other halves,” she jested.

Legolas chuckled at her bad joke. “Yes, but only I was skilled enough to catch my lady,” he said with a grin.

Caitlyn laughed heartily at that. It seemed that he had a similar sense of humor, and she thought that they would probably do quite well together once they got to know one another better. Despite being lonely for her sisters, she had to admit that it wasn’t a bad ending to her twenty-ninth birthday.

Chapter Text

Alexis stared at the ceiling as she lay in her small bed in Minas Tirith. It was a small room, but she did not mind. She had grown to appreciate every luxury given to her since her arrival in Middle-Earth, and she had learned that a bed, a table, and a wash basin were definitely luxuries. She sighed to herself as she thought back on all that had occurred.

She was thirty-one now and as different from the twenty-three-year-old that had been plopped into a make-believe land as could be. Oh, she was still the same stubborn person at the core of her, but she had matured in ways that she had not even thought possible in the eight years she had been in Middle-Earth.

She cringed slightly as she thought about how much she had complained of boredom when she had arrived, how she had detested the lessons they had had to attend, and how eager she had been to learn sword fighting and go on adventures. She now knew that adventures were not nearly as glamorous as the movies made them seem. Sleeping on the ground was uncomfortable and often damp. There was little food to be had in the wilderness, and she had learned to ration food stores the hard way. There was no fast-food restaurant that she could pop into and grab an order of fries whenever she wanted. She had learned to appreciate all the things she had, whether that was a bed or a warm cloak or the presence of her older brother.

She was grateful that Adrien was still with her. She hadn’t seen Ash in two years and could only hope that she was still alive. She had learned to appreciate her family members that were with her, especially when she saw how much Kaylie truly suffered from being separated from hers.

She had seen battle firsthand now as well. Battles were ugly, bloody things, and she now had a scar on her right arm from an orc blade. She now knew the value of the training she had been so eager to start out of boredom. It had served her well, and she had continued to train hard to improve her skills. The elves of Mirkwood had been unrelenting in their training, and she knew that her speed and dexterity had improved from working with them, even if they had only stayed through the winter and left as soon as the snows began to melt. Adrien had been eager to be on his way, and she couldn’t really blame him. She, too, was restless.

Alexis rose from her bed and moved to the small window. The sun was just coming up, and she knew she still had a bit of time before she met Adrien for their usual sparring session. She shook her head as she thought of her brother. He had become so solemn after supposedly meeting his soulmate, and he had confessed to her that he was eager to return to Rohan to see how things faired there and change what he could. She also knew that he and Kaylie had had quite an argument about what could and could not be altered.

As she turned from the window to dress, her thoughts turned to soulmates, and wasn’t that just such a strange concept? Yet, she had seen it in action already with her friends and sister. She couldn’t imagine having one herself and was not too overly concerned with trying to find them. Luckily, it seemed that the humans here had a bit more flexibility on such things, unlike the elves who would wait centuries to meet their other halves if need be.

She shook her head. Such thoughts were not worth her time right now. She would simply do what she could where she could. If that meant fighting orcs outside of Rivendell, then so be it. If that meant rolling bandages in the healing houses of Minas Tirith, then, as boring as she might find it, she would do that as well. Fully dressed now, she left her room and made her way to the training grounds to meet with her brother.

“I thought I’d have to wait at least half an hour for you,” Adrien greeted her with a quirk of his lips as she walked into the open area.

Alexis rolled her eyes. “Give me a break, Adrien. I gave up sleeping in years ago. Now, I’m awake early whether I want to be or not.”

The partial smile fell from his face. “You’re right. You have changed.”

“So have you,” Alexis returned with a lifted eyebrow, daring him to contradict her.

“Touché, Lexi,” he said with a nod of acknowledgement. “Hopefully, our changes have been for the better, though.”

“Who can say,” she replied with a shrug. “Now, are we going to train, or are we going to watch the sun pass through the sky while we waste time philosophizing?”

“We’re going to train,” he assured her as he drew his giant axe from his back.

“Good. I always hated philosophy,” Alexis answered as she drew her sword.

The two began to circle one another in a familiar dance, but Alexis remembered all that she had learned from the elves of Mirkwood and hoped that this session would be different than their usual ones. As usual, Adrien waited for her to strike first, and she did, using her improved speed to her advantage.

Unfortunately, Adrien was able to block her hit with the flat side of his axe. One would think when they saw her brother that he would be slow, like fighting a troll, but that was not the case. Despite his size and the fact that he carried a weapon that she sometimes thought weighed more than her, Adrien was surprisingly light on his feet. She could only attribute it to his years of rock climbing before their arrival. Still, she did have the edge on speed, barely, but it was an advantage that she was going to use to the best of her ability.

The two went back and forth for some time until Alexis found herself in a rather precarious position. She was down on one knee with her brother bearing down on her sword, which she held sideways above her. “I swear, Adrien, if you break my sword, I will gut you in your sleep!”

“Then surrender,” Adrien stated with a grin.

“Never,” Alexis snarled before seeing her chance. She lessened her strength a bit before heaving upwards with all her might while simultaneously kicking his leg out from under him. Adrien fell backwards flat onto his back with a grunt, and she was upon him in a moment.

“Well done,” he exclaimed with a wheeze. “I surrender. You win this one.”

Alexis beamed at him. She didn’t often win their battles. Before she could celebrate, however, she heard a chuckle behind her and turned around to see a dark-haired man standing at the edge of the training area.

“You must be the new arrivals,” he stated as he came closer. “I must say that I am rather disappointed in your performance,” he continued as his gaze focused on Adrien, who had obviously stood behind her. “I had high hopes for you based on the report I received this morning, but to be bested by a woman,” he shook his head.

Alexis could feel her brother tense and cast a glance over her shoulder to see that his jaw was clenched. “If you were watching, then you know that she is a skilled warrior. I feel no shame in losing this match to her.”

The stranger nodded his head. “True, but why does she fight at all? The people of the north must be desperate, indeed, if they arm their women so.”

“My sister is her own person, and I will let her speak for herself,” Adrien answered before adding. “However, I will say that I have yet to find anyone that can tell her what she can and cannot do. Since she chooses to fight, I thought it better to see that she is properly armed and trained for both her sake and my own.”

Alexis glanced at Adrien again. “Thank you, Adrien,” she said before turning to the newcomer with a glare. “I can certainly speak for myself, and I do not see how it is any of your concern whether I choose to wield a sword or not. I do not answer to you.”

The man seemed a bit taken aback by her words but quickly recovered. “Forgive me for not introducing myself. I am Boromir, son of Lord Denethor and heir to the stewardship of Gondor,” he said with a bow before pausing, but if he was expecting a great reaction from either of them, he was going to be disappointed.

“I am Adrien,” her brother said as he moved to stand beside her. “This is my sister Alexis.”

“And I would be happy to show you my skills with a sword,” she assured him with a mocking smile.

Boromir snorted. “I witnessed the end of your earlier match. Trickery is the only way in which you triumphed. In an honorable fight, you would never win.”

“Since when are orcs honorable,” Alexis returned with a lifted brow. “I train to fight enemies of the free people of Middle-Earth, and I will use whatever methods I can to ensure that I am the victor.”

“And what would you know of orcs,” he questioned as his eyes narrowed at her.

Alexis could feel the grip on her temper begin to slip. “This is what I know of orcs,” she seethed as she held up her right arm to show this chauvinistic jerk the proof of her encounters. Adrien’s firm hand upon her shoulder grounded her, and she took a couple of deep breaths. “Whether you choose to believe me or not, I have fought against the Dark Lord’s forces on many occasions, so do not presume to think that you know anything about me or my life. Either agree to spar with me or be gone so that I might return to my training.”

Boromir looked caught between astonishment and offense that she would speak to him in such a manner, but he quickly recovered and nodded. “Very well. Let us see how well you have trained,” he stated in as even a voice as he could manage as he drew his sword. His shield was nowhere to be seen, however.

“Deep breaths, Lexi,” Adrien whispered to her as he squeezed her shoulder. “And try not to kill the guy. He is rather important to the story,” he added for good measure before stepping away from her.

Alexis took a couple of deep breaths more and readied herself. Fighting with anger would only tire her out as she expended more energy than necessary. She focused on her goal and stepped forward with her sword in her hands, ready for battle.

She allowed Boromir to make the first move, which he did cautiously, and that gratified her. At least he wasn’t stupid enough to think that he could simply run over her. She easily dodged the attack, however, and returned one of her own, clearly surprising him with her speed and strength. She would never be as strong as Adrien, who could give a troll a run for their money on that front, but training with him had certainly seen her putting on some muscle mass.

Boromir was no pushover, though. While he might not equal Adrien in strength, he came close enough that the difference was negligible, and she quickly decided that close combat was a losing battle for her, just as it was when she fought Adrien. So, she did her best to maintain her distance, and after a while, she was finally able to disarm her opponent.

“Yield,” the warrior said as he held his hands up in surrender. Alexis lowered her sword, and he continued. “You have been clearly well taught.”

Alexis sheathed her sword and looked at her opponent with a lifted brow. Had that been a compliment? She certainly had not expected that. A heavy hand hit the top of her back and she stumbled forward a bit.

“Well done,” Adrien exclaimed with clear pride.

“You’re only saying that because you helped to teach me,” Alexis replied with a roll of her eyes and a grin as she tried to shove her brother away. It, of course, did no good.

“Wait,” Boromir cried in a tone of surprise, and she turned to see him staring at her with wide eyes. “Your hand!”

Alexis looked down at her hands with a furrowed brow. She didn’t see anything unusual about her hands and turned them over several times. She looked back up at him in confusion.

“The mark… the mark on your hand,” he clarified, still in some shock.

Alexis looked down at her left hand. Her leather glove that she used for protection had shifted during her fight with Boromir, and she had unconsciously removed the glove for a moment to adjust it. She took it off again and looked at the white tree and horn emblazoned on the back of her hand. “Oh,” she said as she looked up at him again. “Well, I suppose this makes sense now,” she said as she held up her hand for him to see it.

“As does this,” Boromir agreed as he held up his own left hand to show the letter A with a sword forming the horizontal line. “We should go and inform my father.”

“You may go if you wish,” Alexis answered with a shrug as she glanced up at the sun. She would need to head back soon to begin her duties.

“What do you mean,” Boromir asked, clearly puzzled over her reaction.

“I mean, my lord, that you have, thus far, made a rather poor impression upon me,” Alexis said with a bit of a snort. “While we may be a fated pair, I feel little obligation towards you. If you wish for a chance to court me, then earn it. Prove that you can treat me as an equal, and then we can speak on this matter,” she finished before turning away from him and heading back the way she had come to don more appropriate clothing for her work in the healing houses.

“I am afraid, Lord Boromir, that you have a long road ahead of you,” she heard her brother say behind her before she was out of hearing distance.

Chapter Text

Boromir thought back to the words Adrien had given him many months ago, and he had to admit that truer words had probably never been spoken before. Alexis was stubborn, and his gifts of flowers, jewelry, and fine dresses meant nothing to her. He’d had no idea how to court such a woman. In moments of anger and frustration, he had wondered if he should even bother trying. There were, after all, plenty of ladies that would be happy to court him, and he’d never thought he’d have to put forth such an effort to woo his match.

Such thoughts would die quickly, however, as he observed her sparring or found her working diligently in the healing house. She was an admirable woman, strong but still caring. She was, in every aspect that he could find, the perfect woman to stand beside him. She would make a fine leader for his people on the field of battle as well as off it. She was, perhaps, a little rough around the edges when it came to courtly manners and politics, but her friend Riley was already assisting her with that. Yes, she was perfect.

That is, she was perfect except for her unending stubbornness! If the tales were true, she would rival any dwarf in sheer obstinacy, and they were said to be as unmovable as the mountains in which they dwelt.

When he and Faramir had both had that strange dream and it had been determined that he would travel to Rivendell, she had immediately insisted on accompanying him. When he had protested vehemently, she had simply shrugged and declared that she would be going with or without him and that she actually knew where the Hidden Valley was, having spent some time there. She also hoped to be reunited with her sister who she had not seen in a few years.

And that’s how he found himself trudging behind her in what seemed to be an endless forest, looking for the entrance to the Hidden Valley. They had lost their horses quite some time ago in crossing the river and had faced many dangers besides. They had been travelling for nearly four months now, and he was ready to reach their destination.

“Are you quite sure that you know where you are going,” he asked and received a glare in return.

“You have already asked me that five times since we broke camp this morning. Do you really think that asking me yet again is going to give you a different answer,” Alexis replied as she continued to walk. “We are almost there.”

Boromir was ready to reply that she had said the same thing two hours ago, but his words were cut off as the trees broke in front of them, revealing a large, ornate gate that led to a lush valley nestled between two high foothills with the mountains behind. “Hidden indeed,” he commented and had to silently admit that without Alexis’s assistance he may never have found his way.

His companion ignored him as she waved to the elves guarding the gate who returned her greeting with smiles and nods before opening the gates for them.

“Welcome back, Lady Alexis,” one of the guards greeted as they passed through the gate. “Lord Aragorn and Lady Ashlan returned earlier today.”

Boromir watched in some surprise as Alexis’s face split into a wide grin. “Thank you,” she said as she hurried forward.

He sped up his steps to try to keep up with the red-headed woman, but his surroundings were quite distracting. He was used to majesty, having spent the majority of his life in Minas Tirith, but there was a different kind of majesty to Rivendell. Sweeping architecture formed from gleaming white stone melded into the surrounding trees and waterfalls seamlessly. A chorus of screeches had him hurrying forward and reaching for his sword.

He rounded a corner and nearly tripped in his effort to stop to avoid careening into Alexis and another woman that he could only assume was her sister Ashlan. Beyond the two women was a tall man with dark hair with gray streaks at his temples. He held himself in the easy way of an experienced warrior and looked up at him with shared exasperation before turning back to the two women.

“Is Legolas here already? Did Cait come with him,” Alexis asked as she held her sister out at arm's length to look her over. “You look different,” she said in a quieter voice.

The other woman nodded. “I am,” she answered with a shrug. “But so are you. To answer your questions, Legolas arrived this morning, but Cait did not come with him. I did not really expect her to, though.”

“No, I suppose not,” Alexis agreed with a shake of her head.

“Will Adrien be joining us,” the other asked with a hopeful tone that she tried to hide as she looked beyond Alexis and towards the gate that was out of view.

Alexis shook her head. “No, we left him in Minas Tirith, and I expect him to return to Rohan soon if he has not already done so.”

“I had hoped to see him again,” the brunette returned, clearly disappointed before shaking it off. “Never mind, I will see him again soon enough. Come! The others will be glad to see you,” she declared before pulling Alexis behind her, leaving Boromir standing rather awkwardly with the other man.

“You will have to forgive Ashlan,” his remaining companion commented as he moved to follow the two women in a slower manner, and Boromir fell into step with him. “She has been looking forward to seeing Alexis for some time.”

“You are acquainted with Alexis,” Boromir asked conversationally as he heard more celebratory sounds from up ahead.

“We met several years ago when she and her siblings were here. It is how Ashlan and I found one another,” he explained before sighing. “I did not wish to acknowledge her as my match at first due to being a ranger and in constant danger, but she is a stubborn woman.”

“It is a family trait,” Boromir commented drily, making the other man chuckle.

“Indeed,” he agreed before moving into the room they had arrived at, which seemed full of Alexis’s acquaintances and friends, all of whom appeared to be elves, which Boromir found rather odd.

He stood silently by for several minutes, simply watching the group before a golden-haired elf maiden approached him. She curtsied gracefully and smiled. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last Lord Boromir. I am Idhrendes.”

Boromir bowed automatically in return. “At last,” he questioned once he was standing straight again.

“Yes, Alexis is like a sister to us, so naturally, we looked forward to meeting the one destined for her,” the elf explained before glancing back at the noisy group. “I am afraid we are a rowdy bunch today, but I would be happy to introduce you to everyone since Alexis has, once again, forgotten her manners,” she said in a rather fond voice.

Boromir smiled at that and nodded. “Very well,” he agreed before following the elf towards the group. It did not take long to meet everyone, and they all seemed like decent people. What surprised him was the level of familiarity between them. He knew that Alexis and her siblings had spent some time in Rivendell, but he now suspected that they had spent years here instead of several months as he had thought.

“You seem troubled,” Alexis’s voice brought him out of his thoughts as she finally rejoined him.

“It seems strange that these elves are so close with you. I did not think elves to be fond of the mortal races of Middle-Earth, for obvious reasons,” Boromir tried to explain his confusion over the fact.

“Ah,” she said with a nod. “Most are not, I believe, but these elves I have known for several years. And they are good friends. Now, come. Elrohir has said that his father will speak with us now.”

Boromir nodded and followed her through several hallways, which she navigated with ease before stopping in front of a heavy-looking door. She knocked, waited for a response, and then entered with him following.

“Alexis,” a dark-haired elf greeted as he stood from a large desk. “Welcome back. It is good to see you again.”

“Lord Elrond,” Alexis returned the greeting as she bowed. She then turned towards him and smiled. “May I present Boromir, eldest son of the Steward of Gondor? He has come to seek your counsel.”

“You are welcome here, son of Gondor,” Elrond stated with a nod to him, which he returned with a bow. “If it is counsel that you seek, then I invite you to join a gathering we are holding here in three days. There, you will find the answers you seek.”

“Thank you, my lord. I will look forward to it,” he returned politely, though he was a bit dismayed to hear that it would be three more days before he received any sort of answer to his quest.

The elf lord turned and pulled on a neatly hidden rope behind his desk. “I will have Lindir show you to your rooms.”

“You have given mine away then,” Alexis asked with a jesting smile, which the elf returned.

“I am afraid there have been some changes since you were last here,” Lord Elrond acknowledged as the door opened. “Lindir, please show our guests to their rooms.”

“Of course, my lord,” the new arrival said with a bow before motioning them to follow him.

As Boromir followed the elf back into the hall, Alexis patted his shoulder. “Do not be so disappointed, Boromir. Three days will go by quickly, and in the meantime, I can show you around the valley.”

Boromir did not reply but did attempt to school his features. He had not realized that his impatience was showing so much. When they reached their rooms, he thanked their guide before entering and dropping his gear at the foot of a very comfortable-looking bed.

“I suggest we bathe and rest before dinner,” Alexis said from behind him, and he turned to see her leaning in his doorway.

“Agreed,” he returned with a nod.

“I can show you some of the valley tomorrow if you wish,” she offered again. “I would show you tonight, but there will most likely be songs and stories in the Hall of Fire this evening that we should probably attend.”

He nodded again, trusting her experience with the elves to keep them from causing offense. “Very well, I shall see you shortly then.”

She left, and he heard her enter the door next to his own before he closed it behind her. With a sigh, he began to dig through his pack for his cleanest set of clothes. He was a warrior and not gifted in eloquent speech or working with other peoples and nations. Perhaps, he should have allowed Faramir to come in his stead, after all, but the way had been dark and doubtful. And he could not countenance sending his younger brother.

He shook off his dark thoughts and headed for the washroom where he spent some time puzzling over the various spouts and knobs of the large tub before finally sinking into the warm water. It certainly beat having buckets hauled to his chambers at home.

Three days did pass soon enough, and Boromir and Alexis were shown to a veranda where a large table waited to host the council Lord Elrond had mentioned. When they arrived, there were already several people at the table, and Alexis led them to a pair of seats across from her sister and her match.

When all the seats were filled, Lord Elrond turned to those that were present. “We have gathered today to take council together in these dark times. However, there are some here that I did not expect and have no knowledge of your purpose. So, I think it best we start there. Tell me, Master Glóin, what brings the Dwarves of Erebor so far from home?”

“Our purpose is two-fold,” an old dwarf a couple of seats down from Boromir answered. “Our king has been troubled with an evil messenger seeking news of Master Baggins and a ring. This messenger comes from Mordor. Who or what it is, I cannot say, but Bilbo is dear to us, and we wished to warn him that he is being sought. We heard that King Brand of Dale was also troubled by the same messenger. Our second purpose is to seek council regarding a company of our people that was led by my cousin Balin to seek our ancient home in Moria. For a while, there were letters, but for some time now there has been no word from them.”

“Me,” an even smaller person exclaimed, clearly startled. “What could they have to do with me and my ring?”

“All will be revealed in time, my friend,” Gandalf, whom Boromir recognized from his time in Minas Tirith, soothed the other.

“This is troubling news, indeed, if Mordor is seeking alliances,” Lord Elrond commented with a tired sigh before turning to another elf at the table. “And you, Legolas, what news from the Woodland Realm?”

“None that will lighten or gladden the heart, I am afraid,” the elf answered with a shake of his head. “The creature Gollum has escaped.”

“How did this happen,” the man across from Boromir asked tiredly.

“I am sorry, mellon-nin,” the elf said with sincere regret as he turned to the dark-haired man. “I admit that the creature was too cunning for us and took advantage of our kindness. Often, he was allowed out of his cell to climb one of the large trees nearby, but on one particular day, he refused to come back down. We were then attacked by orcs, and the creature escaped in the chaos. I have no doubt that it was coordinated, but I do not know how.”

Boromir had no idea who or what Gollum was, but the grim looks around him were enough to tell him that the escape was, indeed, ill news.

“And you, Boromir,” Lord Elrond asked as he turned to him. “What brings a son of Gondor so far from home?”

Boromir looked around at the gathered individuals before starting. “I also seek counsel, my lord. Twice has my brother Faramir been troubled by a strange dream, and I have once also. In the dream, darkness gathers, but in the west a pale light lingers. A voice cries out.

Seek for the sword that was broken
In Imladris it dwells
There shall be counsels taken
Stronger than Morgul spells

There shall be shown the token
That doom is near at hand
For Isildur’s Bane shall waken
And the Halfling forth shall stand

What these words mean or foretell, I cannot say,” Boromir finished with a sigh. “So, I set out in mid-summer from my home to seek the Hidden Valley, and I have passed through many dangers with Alexis as my guide to seek your counsel.”

The man across from him stood slowly and drew his sword before placing it on the table. Boromir looked at it in some wonder as the other tipped his scabbard up to draw forth the second piece of the blade, which was clearly broken in two. What could be the meaning of this?

“Here, Boromir, is part of your riddle,” the man exclaimed in a soft voice. “For this is the Sword that was Broken. Narsil it was called!”

Boromir looked from the sword to the man in a mixture of awe and confusion. “The sword that cut the Ring from Sauron’s hand! How came you by such an heirloom? Who are you?”

“He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and through many generations he is descended from Isildur,” Lord Elrond answered.

“Isildur’s heir,” Boromir muttered to himself with a shake of his head. They had heard rumors, of course, in Gondor, but there always seemed to be rumors about some long-lost heir to the kingship. He turned to the woman by his side. “Did you know?”

“Yes,” Alexis said as she met his eyes evenly.

“Why did you not tell me,” Boromir asked with some agitation.

“Aragorn keeps his identity hidden for his own reasons, and though he may be my brother in the future, I have no right to reveal his secrets,” Alexis answered plainly as she threw a glance across the table at her sister and her sister’s match.

“Isildur’s heir,” he repeated, and a new thought struck him. “And will you return with us to Minas Tirith? For, though we came with no hope of seeking military aid, still we are hard pressed to keep the dark forces of Mordor at bay. And those who know of our bravery and valor give us much praise but little help, and it would be a great boon to have a king returned to the throne.”

“Be glad that you have such praise,” Ashlan commented with a bitter edge to her voice. “The Rangers of the North protect this land just as valiantly as you and your soldiers do. Yet, we are ridiculed and despised by those we protect. Strider he is called by one fat man in Bree who would quake in his bed and never sleep for three years if he knew the evil and dangers just miles from his doorstep.”

Aragorn put a calming hand on Ashlan’s shoulder. “The praise of men matters little,” he stated calmly before turning to Boromir. “I will come with you,” he stated simply before turning his eyes to Lord Elrond. “It is time Narsil was reforged.”

Lord Elrond sighed but nodded. “So be it.”

“But what has any of this to do with Sauron and the One Ring,” asked an elf sitting near Gandalf.

“That, Galdor, can be explained in a long tale, and though I may start it, others must finish it,” Lord Elrond stated.

Boromir then spent the next few hours listening as Lord Elrond, Gandalf, and the halfling, or rather hobbit, Bilbo Baggins told the story of the forging of the Rings of Power, the defeat of Sauron, the loss of the One Ring, its finding, and how it had passed down to the other hobbit present, Frodo Baggins, Bilbo’s kinsman.

“But how can we know that this is truly the One Ring that has been found,” Galdor questioned after the story was completed.

“I found in the depths of Minas Tirith records written by Isildur’s own hand, which even Denethor,” Gandalf stated with a glance at Boromir, “has either forgotten or dismissed, in which he describes the Ring’s markings, which only fire can show, and I have tested it myself. Are there truly any here who would doubt my word on such a grave matter?”

“I trust Gandalf’s word in this matter, and now we come to the point of our counsel. We must decide what is to be done with the Ring,” Lord Elrond declared as he looked at each of the people present.

“Might it not be cast into the sea and so make Saruman’s lies the truth,” an elf on Lord Elrond’s right asked after a moment of silence.

“No, Erestor,” a golden-haired elf replied. “It would only delay the day which we now face. These things have a way of being found, and it would not stay lost. Even without it, I am afraid Sauron’s power steadily grows in Mordor. Whatever is to be done must be done now.”

“What of Iarwain,” Galdor questioned. “Might he not keep it in his care. Given the tale we have heard, it is clear that he has power over it. Perhaps, he should have been invited to our council.”

Gandalf shook his head. “Say not that he has power over it. Say, instead that it holds no power over him, and he will not leave his lands these days. He has set the boundaries himself and does not cross them, and were he to have the Ring, it would hold no weight on his mind. It would be nothing more than a pretty trinket that could easily be lost without much thought.”

“Can it not be sent over the sea then,” Galdor offered up his next suggestion.

Lord Elrond shook his head. “The Valar would not permit such a thing to enter Valinor. No, this is a problem for those left in Middle-Earth to solve.”

“If it cannot be sent away or hidden, cannot it be melted down or destroyed,” the younger dwarf present asked. “It is still only metal.”

“True, Gimli,” Lord Elrond acknowledged before adding, “but there is no weapon made by Dwarf, Elf, or Man that could harm the Ring. It was made in the fires of Mount Doom, and it must be thrown back into those fires to be unmade. Even the fire of the dragons of the Elder Days, even Ancalagon the Black, would have been unable to harm the One Ring.”

“I see how it is,” the old hobbit muttered. “I started it, and I must finish it.”

Gandalf shook his head. “My dear Bilbo, you know that is not true from the tales that have been told today. Besides, the Ring has passed from you to Frodo, and I think it best that you not take it up again.”

Bilbo was quiet for a moment before he conceded. “Perhaps you are right, Gandalf. You usually are, you know.”

Boromir listened to all this in growing astonishment as Frodo volunteered for this quest. Were they truly thinking of going into Mordor? “This is folly,” he murmured to himself as another hobbit appeared. “You could not storm the Black Gates with ten thousand men behind you.”

“We do not need to storm the gates,” Alexis said as she leaned closer to him. “This is a mission of secrecy and stealth, not of strength. We only need to find a path inside.”

“And then what,” Boromir asked with a shake of his head. “Legions of orcs will lie between us and the mountain.”

“I do not know what all may happen,” she admitted with a sigh. “It is the only way, though,” she added firmly before the council was dismissed.

“And who will go with the hobbit,” Boromir questioned as he stood from his chair, still doubtful that this plan was anything but foolish. “Surely, you cannot expect him to travel to Mordor alone.”

“No, indeed,” Lord Elrond replied, clearly hearing his comment. “A fellowship must be formed to help Frodo on his way. It cannot be many.”

Boromir stood in silence for a moment. He would need to return to Minas Tirith soon, and Frodo would have to travel in the same direction to reach Mordor. If he could offer aid to the hobbit in destroying the One Ring, see the Enemy struck such a blow, then he felt compelled to assist. “I will join this fellowship if you have need of me,” he finally declared firmly.

“And I will go as well,” Alexis stated from his side.

Boromir nearly groaned and ran a hand down his face. He did not want to have this argument a second time with Alexis. “You cannot go. This journey will be even more dangerous than the one we took to get here, and you have no knowledge of Mordor to justify your inclusion!”

Alexis’s eyes narrowed at him, and he saw a look in them that he could not quite identify. “I beg to differ, Boromir. I know EXACTLY what to expect on such a journey.”

Chapter Text

Dread hung over Aragorn as he followed the others towards Moria. The Fellowship had left Rivendell nearly a month ago, and their way had already been fraught with dangers. He glanced ahead and caught sight of Ashlan’s brown mane of hair and sighed. The woman would be the death of him, quite possibly literally.

After the council that Lord Elrond had held in Rivendell had ended, Ashlan had followed her older sister’s example and volunteered to accompany the Ring south. While he and Boromir had protested both women’s participation in such a dangerous quest, they had remained stubbornly determined to do as they wished. Even Gimli had been impressed, stating that the two could rival his own mother, who was known as one of the most stubborn dwarrowdams in Erebor. They had seemed quite pleased with the compliment, and both Aragorn and Boromir had eventually admitted defeat, knowing that they would follow the Fellowship regardless.

Also, Gandalf had agreed that they should come. That had not helped his case at all.

So, Ashlan and her sister had joined the rest of the Fellowship, and they had travelled south. They had dealt with possible spies in the unnatural birds in the area before trying to take his chosen path through the Redhorn Gate. But after nearly freezing to death and being stranded on the mountain in chest-high snow, they had had to admit defeat to the mountain and the weather.

After retreating down the mountain path, they had been attacked by wargs in the early morning hours, but they had all come out the other side with nothing more than some scratches and minor burns. But now, now they were truly headed into darkness, and he had never wished more that Ashlan was just a little less stubborn. He had made the suggestion that she and her sister travel back to Rivendell after their failed attempt at the Pass of Caradhras, but one look had been enough for him to know that the argument was fruitless.

He did have to admit that both women could hold their own in a battle, and neither had complained through the trials that they had already faced on this quest. This did not surprise him about Ashlan, having travelled with her for several years, but he had been impressed by her sister. He supposed he should not have been, though.

After he had revealed that he was Ashlan’s soulmate and the two had had their initial discussion, he had given her words and arguments some serious thought. Unlike Boromir – he had overheard numerous comments between the sisters regarding Boromir’s opinion on women on the battlefield – he had no issues with women learning to defend themselves and fight for what they wished to protect. There were even several female rangers. No, the issue was that he didn’t wish to risk his soulmate that way.

Still, as he’d quickly learned from Adrien, Ashlan was going to do exactly as she pleased, and it was better to give her the knowledge and skills to fight alongside him than for her to die following him as she wished. So, despite his misgivings, he had taken her with him back to the rangers and spent his time training her, sparring with her, and getting to know her. What he found at her center was a solid rock of stubborn determination to be the best version of herself that she could be that was born from a constant comparison to her elder siblings.

He had been surprised and pleased to learn that, in spite of this, she bore no resentment towards her brother or sister. She simply worked even harder to reach and surpass their accomplishments. It had taken him quite some time to convince her to set goals for herself that had nothing to do with either of her siblings, but once he had, he had noticed that she seemed surer of herself. Over their time together, they had gotten to know one another better, and she had certainly saved him from major injury, if not death, on multiple occasions. If nothing else, he considered them to be good friends now, but he could see the potential for a future together.

That would all come to nothing, of course, if they didn’t live through this quest, which seemed highly likely, but the person he was most concerned for, at the moment, was Gandalf. Something told him that the wizard would not be coming out of Moria if he entered, and that was a frightening thought.

He was pulled from his thoughts as they reached a dry riverbed, and he heard Gandalf thoughtfully hum to himself. “This used to be a flowing stream of swift water coming down from the entrance of Moria,” the wizard commented to himself before wandering forward. “And... ah, here is our path forward,” he declared before adding, “or what remains of the road that once ran between Moria and Eregion.”

Aragorn examined the path and steep rockiness of it. Their pony, no matter how sturdy it had become in the house of Imladris, would not make it easily up the path and could not follow them through the mines at all. It was best to allow him to return to the elves. “Come, Sam,” he called to the hobbit as he made his way to the pony. “We must unload Bill and send him back. He cannot follow us on this path.”

Sam looked downtrodden at first before horror overtook his features. “But, Strider, what about those wolves from earlier? We can’t just send poor Bill into danger like that!”

Aragorn’s mouth quirked slightly at the name, which Sam had continued to use. “Do not worry, Sam. Bill has learned much from the steeds housed in Rivendell. Even you have commented on his great intelligence. He’ll make it home. He knows the way,” he assured the hobbit as he worked on unloading their pony.

Sam didn’t seem entirely convinced but nodded anyway, and soon they had the pony cleared of his burdens and were able to send him on his way. “You take care, Bill,” he told the pony as he ran a hand along his nose. “And don’t you go takin’ up with the likes of that ol’ Bill Ferny again. Stay with Master Elrond in Rivendell, and maybe... well, maybe we’ll see each other again,” he finished.

The pony nuzzled him for a moment before trotting off back the way they had come. Aragorn watched him for a moment before shouldering his share of the supplies and finishing their preparations for moving forward.

The climb along the rocky road was not an easy one. Loose stones made each step treacherous, and more than one person lost their footing along the winding climb. Once they had reached the top, however, it was abundantly clear exactly why the riverbed below was now dry. Between them and the sheer rock wall that represented the entrance to Moria was now a lake, which had clearly been dammed by fallen rocks off the mountain.

An eerie silence hung thick in the air, and Aragorn could feel his hand twitching towards the remade sword that now hung from his belt. Something was not right here. “Best stay clear of the water,” he stated as they all examined the area for a way around or through the lake.

“Agreed,” Gandalf stated with a nod as he led the way around the edge of the water, which when high from the snowmelt in spring would probably go right up to the doors of the lost dwarven kingdom. “This certainly was not here the last time I was this way,” he muttered to himself.

“You have been to Moria before then,” Frodo questioned the wizard.

“Yes,” he answered with a nod. “It has been some years, and the journey was not a pleasant one, but still, we may be able to pass through unnoticed.

“My cousin Balin may be able to welcome us as well,” Gimli added, though it was clear that he was doubtful of his own words, and Aragorn recalled that they had lost contact with the dwarves in Moria some time ago.

“Yes, Gimli, it is possible that Balin or some others have encamped in one of the upper halls,” Gandalf answered rather absently as he continued to lead the way.

Nothing more was said, and the ranger turned his attention back to their surroundings. Despite the fact that nothing had shown itself yet, his instincts still screamed at him that this place was dangerous. He kept his guard up as he heard Gandalf muttering to himself.

“Ah, here we are,” the wizard finally proclaimed as he came to a stop between two trees.

“There’s nothing there,” Pippin commented, clearly confused.

“Dwarf doors are invisible when closed,” Gimli informed him as he examined the wall with a critical eye.

“Yes, Gimli, even their own masters cannot find them again if their secrets are lost,” Gandalf stated as he turned to the sky.

Aragorn jerked as he heard a splash and saw Frodo scrambling away from the water, his foot damp. He must have slipped on a wet rock. He stared at the unnatural lake more closely as a ripple disturbed the water. Ashlan soon joined him, her hand on her sword.

“Best be ready,” she muttered to him under her breath.

He wanted to ask what was coming, but he was distracted by the wall lighting up with the outline of a door behind him.

“Ah, there we are,” Gandalf stated, sounding pleased. “Ithildin only reflects starlight and moonlight.”

“What does that writing say,” Merry asked curiously as they all gazed at the door.

“It reads, ‘The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter. I, Narvi, made them. Celebrimbor of Hollin drew these signs,’” Gandalf translated as he followed the characters with the top of his staff.

“What does that mean,” Pippin questioned as he stared at the doors.

“Oh, that is simple,” Gandalf explained as he looked back at the hobbit. “If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open.” He then placed his staff against the door and chanted a spell, but nothing happened.

“Gandalf,” Alexis began as she approached the door. She shared a quick glance with her sister, and he saw Ashlan give a minute nod in response. “Couldn’t you also translate this as, ‘say friend and enter?’”

Gandalf paused in his mumblings to look at the door a second time. “Yes, you could,” he answered with a frown before his eyes brightened. “Of course,” he cried with a grin. “Mellon,” he declared firmly, and the doors gradually opened before them.

Aragorn hung back and allowed the others to pass into the mine before him. “The two of you knew the password,” he whispered quietly to Ashlan as she walked beside him.

“Yes,” the woman confirmed with a nod. “I thought it best to let Alexis handle it, though. That way, if Gandalf didn’t take the suggestion well, she could deal with the angry wizard,” she finished with a grin.

“So, you knew that we would have to come this way,” Aragorn pointed out with a huff of annoyance. “Why did you not say something earlier? We could have avoided trying to cross the mountains and nearly freezing to death.”

“Kaylie has warned us that anything we might change could have vast, unforeseen consequences,” Ashlan told him. “She’s very adamant about it. For example, if we didn’t go over the mountain, we might have run across a band of orcs and all been slaughtered. She and Adrien had quite the argument over it, in fact.”

“Is that why he did not return with Alexis and Boromir,” Aragorn asked, only half paying attention at this point as he continued to constantly scan the area.

“I do not know,” Ashlan answered with a sigh before adding, “and neither does Alexis. But it is probably part of the reason.”

Aragorn nodded as they passed by the hobbits in the doorway to the mines. He knew that Ashlan had been disappointed not to see her brother at the council meeting, and he shared her disappointment. He considered Adrien to be a good man and a good friend, and he would have welcomed such steadiness and strength on a journey such as this.

Up ahead of them, Gandalf pulled a crystal from his pocket to place it upon his staff, and a moment later the area around them was lit with a glowing white light. Unfortunately, the light revealed dwarf skeletons scattered upon the ground.

As Gimli hung his head in great sadness at the loss to his people, Legolas moved towards one of the bodies and pulled out an arrow. “Goblins,” he declared as he threw the arrow from him and nocked his own.

Aragorn already had his own sword in hand when he heard a commotion behind him and turned to see a monstrous tentacle grasping Frodo by the leg.

“Strider,” Sam yelled at him for help.

Before Aragorn could move, Ashlan and Alexis had both rushed out of the mines to try to rescue the hobbit. “Get inside,” his match ordered the other three hobbits before slicing into the nearest tentacle, which only seemed to enrage the monster.

Aragorn drew his sword and soon joined the fray. He gradually worked towards the tentacle that held Frodo while the others kept the rest of the monster at bay. He could hear Legolas’s arrows flying through the air as he finally reached his target. “Boromir,” he shouted, knowing the other warrior was the only one that would be able to catch the hobbit safely when he fell. The Gondorian immediately understood his plan and maneuvered himself into place before Aragorn severed the tentacle in one slice.

Frodo yelled out in fright as he fell neatly into Boromir’s arms. “I’ve got him,” the man cried out to the others before bolting for the mines.

“Into the mines, quickly,” Gandalf called to the others who were still battling the monster to the best of their ability.

Ashlan and Alexis broke off from their attack and sprinted for the open doorway. While Alexis managed to make it through the opening, Ashlan was hit by a tentacle as she retreated, and it slammed her against the rock wall. She fell to the ground with a grunt as the air was knocked from her lungs.

Aragorn immediately grabbed her by the arm as he passed and got her back onto her feet before darting into the mines and safely away from the rampaging monster in the lake. A moment later the doors crashed into pieces behind them along with rocks from above them as the tentacles of the beast beat against the side of the mountain in rage at missing its quarry.

“Are you injured,” he asked as he turned to Ashlan, whom he was still holding.

“Just some bruises,” she assured him as she patted his shoulder for a moment.

Aragorn sighed in relief as Gandalf relit his staff once more. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he lost Ashlan. The two had not talked about marriage or anything beyond friendship, but she was his match, the one meant for him. And he had waited many years for her. It was why, at times like this, he wished that she would remain safely behind, but then, she wouldn’t be Ashlan.

“We must now venture forth through Moria. If we are lucky, we should be able to pass unnoticed,” Gandalf declared before motioning to Gimli. “Come, Gimli. Walk with me, and we will lead the way.”

The dwarf nodded and moved to Gandalf’s side before the two led the way further into the mines. Aragorn hung back with Ashlan, quickly assuming the position of rear guard as he often did.

As they made their way through the tunnels, sometimes narrow and sometimes wide, and up many flights of steep stairs, Aragorn kept his eye on Ashlan and noticed that she was clutching her ribs with increasing frequency as they continued their march. So, once Gandalf called for a halt for the night, which was a rather relative term, underground as they were, he pulled her aside to assess her injuries himself.

“Lift your tunic,” he ordered as he retrieved bandages from his pack, and he was grateful when she didn’t argue with him. Luckily, they had tended to one another’s wounds often enough that any awkwardness was long passed. Even in the dim light, he could see the dark bruising covering the left side of her torso. “It seems that you were more injured than you originally thought.”

“Yes, it does,” she replied with a hiss as he began to run his fingers gently along her ribs to check for cracks and breaks.

“My apologies, but it is better to check,” he murmured quietly to her as he continued to examine her injury. She nodded her understanding, and the two remained silent until he was finished. “There do not seem to be any cracks or breaks, but you will need to rest for it to heal properly.”

She nodded once again as she lowered her tunic back into place. “I will do so as soon as we are in a safe enough place for it. I don’t really fancy puncturing a lung.”

Aragorn couldn’t help the sigh that escaped. “I wish you had stayed behind in Rivendell.”

“Yes, well, there is no use in bringing up arguments from the past. I am here, and that is that,” she returned with a shrug before moving back towards the rest of the group.

He could not argue with that and followed her lead. He stretched out near her to get some rest while Gandalf took the first watch in order to better remember their path. He would take the second watch and leave Boromir with the third.

He was jolted awake by Gandalf’s angry whisper. “Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid of your stupidity!”

Aragorn was at a bit of a loss as to what the hobbit had done to incur the wizard’s wrath, but a moment later he heard echoing knocks resounding through the mines. “Those are signals if I’ve ever heard them,” he said quietly as he rose from his bed. “They will be on alert for us now.”

“I’m sorry,” Pippin returned with his head hung low in shame.

“It matters not,” Gandalf stated plainly before looking to those still resting. “Everyone up! We must continue now!”

Aragorn immediately moved to gather his supplies and help the others do the same. As they left the chamber, he took up the position of rear guard once more. He kept a hand on his sword as they travelled as quickly as they could while remaining silent. At times, he continued to hear the quiet echoing knocks below them, but nothing happened, and he began to hope that they may yet make it through the mines.

Eventually, they came to a much more open area, and the wizard paused to look around him. “I do not know precisely where I am, but I believe we are several levels above the eastern gate and will need to look for a way down soon. Let us step this way and see what we may.”

They followed the wizard into a side chamber with a large tomb in the center of it. He quickly scanned the room. It was fairly large and had two entrances, the one through which they had just passed and another to the left on the far side. He kept his senses tuned outward as Gandalf identified the tomb as belonging to Gimli’s kinsman Balin and then began to read from a book he pulled from a skeleton. It seemed that the dwarf settlement had been successful, but only at first, and now it was safe to assume that there were none left alive.

As Gandalf finished his perusal of the book, Aragorn noticed Legolas jerk and turn his attention back to the way from which they had come, and a moment later his own ears picked up what the elf had heard. Together the two sprinted back to the larger room only to see a hoard of orcs racing towards their position. They hurried back to their companions.

“Gandalf, orcs are coming,” Legolas declared as they reentered the room.

“How may,” questioned the wizard.

“More than we can handle,” Aragorn answered honestly with a shake of his head.

“We must bar the doors,” Boromir stated as he began to gather up some of the weapons from the fallen dwarves.

“No,” Gandalf answered fervently. “Leave the other door open! We may be able to retreat that way if we can find an opening. But bar the other.”

Aragorn quickly followed the wizard’s suggestion and worked alongside the others to bar the door behind them. He then drew his bow and took a spot next to Ashlan who already stood in front of the hobbits.

“I will do my best to protect you, but you must be prepared to look after yourselves,” she told them seriously as the first crash against the doors resounded through the room.

“Stay back and keep close to Gandalf,” Aragorn added before turning his attention to the door. It was only a few moments before the doors splintered, and the battle began.

He was only able to shoot a couple of arrows before he was forced to switch to his sword. He then fell into a sense of calm, built from years of training and experience, as he engaged with the first of the orcs. Slash. Block. Slash again. Duck. Thrust. The pattern continued with only mild variance for many minutes, but the sheer number of enemies pressed him back further into the room along with his allies, of whom he was vaguely aware of as he continued to battle.

Aragorn’s head snapped to the right as he heard Ashlan’s dismayed cry of, “Frodo!” He was just in time to see the small hobbit be struck by a large spear, and he felt his heart sink. But there was no time for anything more as the battle continued to rage around them.

After many more minutes of fighting, Gandalf finally yelled. “Retreat! Retreat out the side door now!” And Aragorn quickly scooped Frodo’s body into his arms and ran out the open door. “I will do what I can to seal it behind us!”

Aragorn hurried out the door and down a long stairway as quickly as he could, but it was dark and the stairs were unkempt and uneven. A moment later, he nearly dropped Frodo’s body down the stairs as the hobbit spoke up.

“Put me down. I can walk. I can manage,” the hobbit demanded.

The ranger carefully set the hobbit on his feet in stunned amazement. “You should be dead,” he declared with a shake of his head, but further words were cut off by an explosion at the top of the stairs.

“Gandalf,” Aragorn cried in concern for his friend as they were plunged into the pitch dark.

“I am here,” the wizard answered in a tired voice. “I cannot light our way for now, so Gimli will need to lead the way.”

The dwarf did as he was told, and the others followed carefully behind him in the dark. The group was silent for a long while before Alexis asked, “Gandalf, what happened?”

“I met a power nearly greater than my own and was almost destroyed,” the wizard answered, and it was clear to Aragorn that the other was nervous and uncertain, which disturbed the ranger. Anything that would make a wizard nervous was not something to trifle with.

After half an hour, Gandalf was able to light his staff once again, and they could see that there were still several flights of stairs before them. When they reached the bottom, they could hear a commotion from the large room ahead of them.

“Fire they kept saying,” Gandalf muttered to himself. “Perhaps the lower halls are ablaze?” He shook his head and led them carefully into the room beyond. “Hurry,” he cried as he saw more clearly what was occurring. “We must reach the bridge!”

As Aragorn followed the others, he could see a large rift in the floor of the room that seemed filled with fire. Luckily, they were on the right side of the chasm while the orcs were on the other, but he could already see them bringing large planks to cross the chasm to their side. And beyond them was a large shadow that seemed to be growing by the moment. Shaking his head as his mind began to put pieces together, he followed Gandalf as quickly as possible while making sure the others were ahead of him.

After running through a few more doorways, they finally managed to reach the bridge, which spanned a deep chasm and led to the eastern door of the mines. “Go! Go,” Gandalf urged as he waited for all of them to pass him at the start of the bridge.

Aragorn sprinted after the others to the other side of the chasm and turned to make sure that Gandalf was behind him but saw that the wizard had stopped halfway across the bridge to face a new threat. It was a form vaguely resembling that of a huge man completely formed of fire and darkness that seemed to spread from it throughout the large area. It was as he feared. Durin’s Bane had been awakened once more. He glanced from Gandalf to the balrog and then looked over to Boromir.

“The Men of the South are no cowards,” the warrior assured him as he drew his sword.

Aragorn followed suit and drew his own. “He cannot stand alone,” he agreed before giving a battle cry and racing back the way that they had come.

“No,” Gandalf yelled to them. “Stay back! This foe is beyond you!” He then turned his attention to the balrog, which was slowly beginning to cross the bridge. “You cannot pass! I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor. You cannot pass! The dark fire will not avail you Flame of Udûn! Go back to the Shadow where your master awaits! You cannot pass!”

The balrog stepped closer to the wizard and produced a flaming sword, and its fire blazed even hotter as the darkness continued to spread through the cavern. It brought the sword down towards the wizard, but Glamring glittered brightly. There was a flash of searing white light as the two swords met, and the balrog’s flew up into the air in molten pieces.

“You cannot pass,” the wizard called again as he swayed and took a step back.

The balrog produced next a flaming whip and leapt forward upon the bridge, but the wizard was ready. He brought his staff down upon the bridge with a mighty blow. The staff shattered, and the bridge under the balrog collapsed taking the demon with it.

Gandalf turned to join his friends wearily, but a moment later the balrog’s whip flicked up from the depths as it fell to wrap around the wizard’s leg. And he was dragged over the edge of the broken bridge. “Fly, you fools,” he cried and was gone.

Aragorn stared in horror at the place where his friend had been but a moment before, but he could feel the ground shifting beneath his feet. And he pulled Boromir back with him as he retreated towards the door. As they joined the others, the rest of the bridge collapsed as well. “Come,” he commanded as he tried to get his thoughts together. “I will lead you now!”

He took his place at the front of the line with Ashlan by his side and ran through the next couple of rooms and up some stairs before they finally reached the daylight. There were some orcs laying in wait for them at the gate, but he killed the largest with an angry war cry while Ashlan took out a second. The rest fled in terror, and they continued to run down the stairs and away from the dark until they were well out of bowshot range.

There they paused. The hobbits fell to the ground in sobs. Legolas stood quietly off on the side with his head bowed, whispering Sindarin prayers to himself. Gimli refused to look back at his ancestral home that had cost them so much and had turned into a den of enemies. He could feel the tears trickling down his cheeks as he turned towards the door through which they had passed and held up his sword in salute to his friend.

“Did I not tell you to beware Moria,” he asked quietly. “Alas that I was proven right,” he added with a shake of his head as he tried to get himself together. “What hope have we without you, my friend?”

“There is still hope,” Ashlan stated firmly as she wrapped her arms around him from behind, and he nearly startled. “Remember Gandalf is not a Man. He is strong and blessed with great power by the Allfather himself. His mission is not yet done, and we may yet see him again.”

Aragorn turned to stare down at the woman. In her eyes, he could see a mixture of sadness and hope, and there he found comfort. He wrapped his arms back around her and leaned his head down upon her shoulder to take what comfort he could for now. For once, he was quite glad to have her with him on this fateful quest.

When his tears had finally stopped, he released her and turned to the others. “Come! We are not safe yet. We must reach the woods of Lothlórien.” With that he began to lead them once more in the direction he believed Gandalf would have gone, hoping that he could be the leader that they needed him to be in the absence of his friend.

Chapter Text

Haldir stretched his arms above his head as he rested in the tree with a few of his other soldiers. Eliril had not come with him this time, and wasn’t that a strange thought? It had been nearly four years since he’d met his fëamel, and she was certainly more than he ever could have expected. She was kind, patient, and calming, a perfect match for him.

He sighed. He had been rather indifferent about meeting his fëamel. He was a marchwarden and constantly in danger and focused on protecting his home. He didn’t have the time or energy to devote to wooing a lady. Nor did he wish to place her in danger. But Ilúvatar had sent his fëamel to him anyway, and he had heeded the Lady of Light’s wise counsel to not allow fear to cloud his judgment. He had been well rewarded for his efforts.

Eliril was devoted to learning the healing craft, and she was very gifted at it. She was also brave, insisting on accompanying him occasionally as the available healer to him and his soldiers on the border. He had been reluctant to allow her to join him, but she had proven him wrong when an orc had broken through the lines and headed right for her as she was treating one of his injured soldiers. She had taken the soldier’s sword, shoved it into the orc’s chest, and gone back to work. He was thankful then that she’d had basic training, at least, and he’d never loved anyone more than he did her in that moment.

His thoughts were interrupted as he caught the strains of a fair voice on the air. “Quiet,” he hissed, holding up his hand to silence the soft murmurs of the others with him. It was clearly the voice of one of their kin from the Greenwood, and he quickly realized that Eliril’s friends must have arrived. She’d warned him that a large group would be coming to their woods soon and had threatened him regarding showing them kindness. He couldn’t understand why she felt the need for such a warning. Perhaps she thought there was some disagreement between the Greenwood and their realm.

The voice soon died down, and he motioned the others closer. “Prepare for visitors and notify those closer to the border to watch for pursuers.”

His soldiers nodded and moved through the trees as silently as the wind. Within an hour, all was in readiness, and he could hear voices below the large tree in which he was stationed. As he heard someone begin to climb the tree, he called down to them. “Halt!”

There was a small thump and some murmuring below before he spoke again in Sindarin. “Have no fear. You breathe so loudly, we could have shot you in the dark if we wished you any harm. But, we heard the voice of our kinsman on the wind. Let him come up and speak with us.”

There was a bit of noise below before he heard someone climbing into the tree once more. A few moments, later a golden-haired elf stood before him dressed in the garb of a soldier of the Greenwood. He gave a traditional bow, which Haldir returned. “I am Legolas Thranduilion of the Woodland Realm,” he introduced himself.

Haldir nodded. “You are known to us Legolas,” he replied before continuing with a small frown. “Who are your companions and what business have you in Lothlórien?”

“There are many of us, two men, two women, and four halflings. The men are Aragorn, a ranger of the North, and Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor. The women with us are their souls’ matches,” he said before ending a bit abruptly.

Haldir lifted an eyebrow at him but remained silent as he watched Legolas consider his words.

“There is one other, a dwarf from Erebor, Gimli,” the other finally admitted.

“A dwarf,” Haldir exclaimed with surprise. “We have not had any dealings with dwarves for many long years,” he muttered as he finally understood Eliril’s warning. He wished she had been a bit more thorough in her explanation, but it mattered not now. “Very well. What brings you here?”

“We have passed through Moria and have only just escaped the evil there. One of our number did not escape, and others are injured. We are seeking refuge from Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn,” Legolas replied with deep sadness clear in his face.

“I see,” Haldir answered thoughtfully before nodding. “Well, you are in luck. We were warned of your coming, and the Lady has already given permission for all of your company to enter. We must bring them up. It is no longer safe to be out of the trees this close to the border after the sun sets. Can they climb?”

“Some of them might be able to, but the others, especially the halflings, cannot,” the other replied.

Haldir nodded once more before calling for a rope ladder. One was soon produced and tied off before being thrown down to those still on the ground. After several minutes, the rest of Legolas’s party had joined them, and the ladder had been pulled back up. “Welcome to Lothlórien,” he said with a bow.

“Speak words we can all understand, if you please,” the dwarf grumbled as he folded his arms across his chest.

Haldir was tempted to sneer at the shorter, hairier person, but he remembered Eliril’s words and did not wish to anger or disappoint her. So, he took a moment to calm himself before nodding in apology. “You must forgive me, Master Dwarf,” he began in the Common Tongue. “Very few of us speak the Common Tongue now for we live deep in the heart of the woods and have no dealings with others. We are even estranged from our northern kin,” he added with a glance at Legolas. “I am the only one here who speaks the Common Tongue and will do my best to remember. I am Haldir, a marchwarden of Lothlórien,” he finished with a formal bow.

“Gimli, son of Glóin, of Erebor at your service,” the dwarf answered with a surprisingly courteous bow of his own.

Haldir then looked over the others. “Aragorn, Alexis, it is a pleasure to see you both again. I know Eliril will be eager to see you again.”

“You’ve been here before,” Boromir asked with clear surprise as he turned to the red-haired woman.

“We passed through here several years ago before we journeyed further prior to going to Minas Tirith,” she answered before turning back to Haldir. “It is good to see you again. This is Boromir of Gondor.”

Haldir nodded before turning to the brunette woman. “Ashlan,” she introduced herself, bowing in the same style Aragorn had used in greeting.

“And you are the halflings,” Haldir stated as he looked over the remaining four.

“Hobbits,” the one youngest in appearance corrected him. “That is the correct term.”

“My apologies, Master…”

“Took. Peregrin Took, but everyone calls me Pippin,” he answered with a wide smile.

“Merry Brandybuck,” the next introduced himself before indicating the last two. “And this is Sam and Frodo.”

The final name struck Haldir’s memory, and he looked much more closely at the final hobbit. “You carry a great burden, Frodo, but rest here with us tonight. I will guide you to the Lord and Lady tomorrow. The hobbits may rest here with me tonight. There is a second talan not far away, which is larger, where the others may take their rest.”

The other members of the company were soon settled on the other platform, and the hobbits began to make themselves as comfortable as they could, eyeing the ground as they did so. “Liable to roll right off in the middle of the night,” Sam muttered quietly.

“Rest in the middle of the platform, Master Hobbit,” Haldir stated with a smile. “I will make sure that you do not roll off the edge for I will keep watch this night. So, have no fear of falling nor fell creatures tonight.”

“Very kind of you,” the hobbit replied, more at ease as he settled down and quickly went to sleep.

Haldir watched over them, and one by one, the hobbits all fell asleep. Once they were resting deeply, he turned his attention outwards, and after only a couple of hours he began to hear the sounds of a large company entering the woods. He slowly signaled the other soldiers nearby to ready themselves and then began to climb down.

“What is it,” Frodo asked sitting up.

“Orcs,” he answered seriously. “Stay here.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before creeping along the forest floor to see what they were up against. What he saw was startling. The company of orcs numbered at least a hundred. He had only a handful of soldiers with him. There was no way they could fight them. He crept away and found Orophin.

“Hasten to the northern border and gather as many soldiers as you can,” he told his brother. “There are at least a hundred in this company.”

Orophin nodded before throwing the hood of his cloak up and vanishing into the night. With that done, Haldir returned quickly and quietly to the hobbits. As he neared the tree, he saw a small creature among the branches, climbing up. Was it one of the hobbits? He neared to get a better look, but the creature spotted him and scrambled away. Haldir hated to let the creature go, but it was more important to check on the hobbits now.

He nimbly climbed the tree and found Frodo still awake and waiting. “What is happening,” the hobbit asked as he pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them.

“A company of orcs has passed. There are at least a hundred of them, but none of them will leave these woods alive. I have sent my brother to the northern border to gather soldiers, but all of you must depart at first light for Caras Galadhon. Dawn is not for a little while yet. So, rest a bit more,” he answered before taking up a position near the edge of the flet to keep careful watch.

Dawn came without further incident, and Haldir woke the hobbits. “Come, friends, we must move quickly this morning if we hope to reach the city by nightfall,” he stated before getting the rope ladder and helping them down to the ground. The rest of the group soon joined them, and after giving some final orders to the remaining soldiers, he rejoined them. “Follow me.”

The travelled quietly, and he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword. Despite the fact that orcs hated the sunlight and rarely travelled during the day, he was wary of the creature he had seen the night before. Thinking of the matter, he called back to those following him. “Are you being pursued by more than orcs?”

Only silence met his inquiry, and he stopped to turn around. “I ask for safety’s sake,” he stated looking around at them. “For there was some creature in the tree where the hobbits rested last night. I thought it was one of the hobbits, or I would have shot it. But it was wary and had an ill look to it, and it fled as soon as I drew near.”

“Yes, it must have followed us from Moria,” Aragorn answered with a sigh.

“Then, I shall keep watch for it,” Haldir returned with a nod before turning back around and continuing down the path.

They soon reached the river, and he whistled to the elves waiting on the other side. They soon threw him a rope, and he had to laugh when he heard Alexis groan behind him.

“Still using your rope bridge, I see,” she commented with a sigh. “Have you at least improved it since our last visit? A new rope, perhaps?”

“No, indeed! This is the very same,” Haldir returned with a grin that faded after a moment. “We will, however, cross one at a time, though I will travel with any that need it. I have grown more cautious since your visit.”

“Why? What happened,” Ahslan questioned with a raised brow.

“Christin fell in,” Alexis replied. “Adrien climbed up behind her and, being the giant he is, shook the rope so much that she lost her grip. Luckily, she’s a good swimmer, you remember, and that’s how she and Haldir found out they were a match.”

“And how are you treating our friend,” Ashlan asked as she crossed her arms and stared at him.

Haldir smiled at her. “As well as I can. If you want specifics, you will have to ask her. I know she is looking forward to your arrival. It was she that warned me of your coming,” he finished as he continued to work. “And now, we are ready,” he said indicating the three ropes across the river. “Alexis, would you care to go first?”

The lady scoffed and quickly climbed onto the bottom rope. While holding onto the top rope, she safely crossed to the other side and climbed down. The other taller members of the group followed without incident. Gimli insisted on going alone, and though he went slowly, he made it across safely. Then Haldir escorted the hobbits over the river before returning and throwing the top two ropes back across and crossing swiftly on the remaining rope.

“What about the last one,” Sam asked curiously pointing to the last rope as he rejoined them.

“One of the others will retrieve it later,” Haldir answered him.

“You said that you don’t get visitors, but Alexis has been here before,” Merry questioned with a frown.

“We do not get many visitors,” he assured him before beginning to lead the way further in. “Alexis and her friends are the only visitors we have had in many decades other than the occasional messenger from Lord Elrond. Darkness has closed in around all of our borders, and we are now an island alone,” he said with a shake of his head before trying to shake off his gravity. “But take heart and be glad now, for very few have seen the heart of these woods, and no dwarf has ventured so far since the days of Durin.”

They travelled in silence for a while before Merry spoke again. “You know there are Elf havens west of the Shire where we live.”

“Are there,” Haldir asked, truly interested in hearing more about the place. “We were no longer sure if such a place still existed so long has it been since we had news from there. Blessed are hobbits to live so close to the sea! Tell me. What are the havens like?”

“I have never seen them,” Merry replied with a sigh before adding, “I had never left my home before this journey, and had I known what the world was like, I should have remained there.”

“You would not have travelled even to see the fair Lothlórien,” Haldir questioned with a tilt of his head as he looked at the hobbit who was walking beside him at the moment. “The world is indeed full of peril and darkness, but there is still much that is fair to be seen as well. And though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows all the greater for it, or so I have found in recent days,” he finished with a smile for his Eliril.

The group continued to walk and pass the time in light conversation. Around midday, they reached the base of a large hill, and Haldir called them to halt. “Here is Cerin Amroth, the center of the ancient kingdom, and here we will rest for a time and come to Caras Galadhon at dusk.”

Most of the company sank down into the grass to rest, but he noticed Frodo and Sam looking around in a state of wonder and could imagine exactly what they were thinking and feeling.

“It is like being inside a song,” Sam commented in awe as he looked up into the trees.

“You feel the power of the Lady Galadriel,” he commented to the two hobbits before motioning to the hill before them. “Would you like to climb up with me?”

Frodo nodded, and both he and Sam followed behind as he began to lead the way up the hill. When he reached the top, he quickly climbed up to a flet in one of the trees and looked out over the land. He heard someone climbing up behind him and turned to see that Frodo had followed. “Turn this way,” he said as he pointed towards his home. “There is Caras Galadhon, and there my heart now lies.”

He turned and saw Frodo’s eyes panning across the wide expanse and to the east. “There is the southern part of what was once the Greenwood, but now darkness lies there. And the trees fight one another and rot and wither away. There upon a stony hill stands Dol Guldur where the Enemy laid in waiting for many years, and now it serves as a stronghold still for evil. From here, you can see the light and the darkness striving against one another. The light perceives the very heart of the darkness, but the darkness does not know the light’s secrets. Not yet,” he finished quietly.

He turned to look down at the hobbit and saw that Frodo seemed to understand his meaning. “Come now, Frodo, we must gather the others and be on our way,” he stated before climbing down once more and leading the way back down the hill.

It was only a few more hours before the group reached the white stone path that led around to the gate of the city, and as evening fell and the silver lamps were lit, they passed through to the largest tree in the wood. From above, a rope ladder was dropped for them. “This is where Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel dwell,” Haldir explained before motioning to the rope. “I will go first, and Frodo and Legolas should follow. The rest may come as they choose. I will warn you, though, that it is a long climb,” he said seriously before grasping the ladder and beginning the familiar climb up into the tree.

When he reached the top, he turned to help Frodo up the last few feet before turning to greet the rulers of Lothlórien. “Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel, here is Frodo of the Shire and Legolas Thranduilion of our northern kin,” he added as Legolas quickly joined them. “With them are several others that claim friendship with our land and its people, specifically with Eliril, and I hope you will excuse me to inform her of her friends’ arrival,” he finished quickly, in a hurry to find his fëamel as soon as possible to give her the news.

Lady Galadriel waved her hand elegantly at him as she laughed softly. “Yes, go, Haldir, and find her. It is a joy to see you so very much in love.”

Haldir gave them a quick bow before hurrying away. He was fairly certain that, at this point in the evening, Eliril would have retired to her own small home, and he hurried across several different rope bridges to reach the flet where she lived. It was small, only one room, but she had never complained about it. He smiled to himself as he knocked quietly on the door.

“Haldir,” Eliril cried happily when she opened her door, and the next moment she had her arms about him. “I am so glad that you have returned. We heard that a large group of orcs had entered the woods, and I kept waiting for the injured to be brought to the healing house. But none came, and I thought,” she trailed off, tightening her arms around him for a moment.

Haldir leaned forward and pressed his lips to his lady’s brow for a moment. It was easy to do with the difference in their heights. He was barely average height for an elf, but Eliril was particularly petite, and he’d have it no other way. “Now, where is my brave fëamel who can take down an orc without blinking,” he asked with a laugh as he pulled back from her. “Do not worry,” he added when he saw her decided frown. “We did not engage with the company of orcs. I sent Orophin to alert the soldiers on the northern border, and they will see that the orcs do not make it back out of the woods. I am afraid you may have more patients to see to tomorrow.”

“I will do what I can for them, of course,” she answered with a smile. “But I am glad that you are well and back in the city. When you leave again, I should like to come with you if I am able.”

Haldir hesitated for a moment as he followed her into her home. “I do not know if that is wise, Eliril. The darkness and danger grow worse with each passing day.”

“This I know,” she responded calmly as she took a seat.

“I wish for you to be safe,” Haldir stated with a sigh, knowing that this particular discussion was not going to end how he wanted, most likely.

“And there is no safer place for me than by your side,” she replied easily with a smile. “You will have to have more healers close by, Haldir. It will take too long to transport the injured all the way here, and it will be too much work for the current number of healers kept on the border as the situation worsens.”

He nodded. She made valid points. They were arguments that he did not wish to think about right now, however, so he smiled at her, instead, and began his news. “Well, I hope that we can discuss such dire things at another time, for I came to find you to bring you joyful news instead.”

“Oh,” Eliril questioned with a lifted brow. “Of what nature is this news?”

“A reunion with old friends,” he answered with a smile that turned into a chuckle as her face lit up with happiness.

“They are here? They have arrived,” she exclaimed as she jumped from her seat. “Why did you not tell me immediately? Where are they?”

“Peace, Eliril,” he said with a fond smile at her enthusiasm. “I will take you to them now, but they are weary and may be resting,” he tried to warn her before leading the way from her home to the area that had been set aside for the group.

It only took a few minutes for them to reach the weary travelers, and when they did, Haldir stood back as he watched Eliril greet Ashlan and Alexis with joy, though it was clearly tinged with sadness as well, most likely from the clear loss of Mithrandir. He listened to them speak in their own tongue as he moved about the edges of the clearing and eventually found himself standing next to Legolas, who had a rather puzzled look.

“Who is the lady who arrived with you, if you do not mind my asking,” the Woodland prince questioned as his brow furrowed.

“She is Eliril, my fëamel,” Haldir replied with a slight frown. “Why do you ask?”

“She looks remarkably alike to my own,” Legolas answered before they were both surprised by Eliril hastening over and throwing her arms around the taller of the two.

“Alexis just told me,” she exclaimed as she looked up into Legolas’s startled face. “We are to be brother and sister!”

Legola’s face cleared of confusion as he patted Eliril’s shoulders a bit awkwardly. “So, you are one of Gliril’s sisters then. That explains the resemblance, though your hair is of sunshine and hers of starlight.”

“Then, we are to be brothers,” Haldir asked with a bit of amusement as Eliril released the other elf and moved back towards her friends.

“It would seem so,” Legolas replied, still slightly shaken over Eliril’s embrace. “Is she always so... affectionate,” he questioned as he fully turned towards Haldir.

Haldir schooled his features so as not to laugh at the other elf. It was clear that Legolas was not comfortable with what had happened and was seeking reassurance that this was not a common occurrence. “I do not think you need worry about it, Prince Legolas. She is merely very happy to see her friends and have news of her sisters. She has missed them greatly.”

The other elf seemed to relax at that and smiled to himself a bit wistfully. “Gliril as well. It has been hard on her to be away from her sisters and discover her own path. Perhaps they may meet again when the darkness is vanquished at last.”

“Let us hope so,” Haldir returned with a nod before moving to pull his fëamel away. It was clear that her friends were weary. “We can return again tomorrow,” he said quietly as he walked back with her to her home.

“Then you will stay,” she asked with some surprise.

“I will as long as I am able,” he answered with a nod. “Your friends are important to you, and I wish to know them as you do. They are your family,” he said a bit somberly before smiling at her. “Besides, I must prove to Ashlan that you are well cared for.”

Eliril laughed as he had intended and shook her head. “She has grown as protective as her brother and more serious. I think she has seen much sorrow and suffering in her travels with Aragorn. She is changed.”

“This saddens you,” Haldir stated, for her sorrow was clear for him to see.

She did not reply immediately as she thought about it. “Yes, I suppose it does. Ashlan used to be a bit wild and more carefree. I am sorry that she has lost that joy in the face of hardship.”

“It is not gone completely. There was much joy in her at your meeting,” he pointed out to her.

“Yes, you are right. It is just that so much has changed in the last ten years,” she said rather thoughtfully.

“Indeed, it has,” he agreed as they reached her door once more. “But not all change is for the worse. Were it not for those changes, I would not have met you, and that is something I would not relinquish for all the joys of the past.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her brow once more. “Now, rest well, my star. I will see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Haldir,” she said with a soft smile that belonged exclusively to him before entering her home.

Haldir did what he set out to do, spending many hours with Eliril and her friends, and he found them all to be good individuals, for the most part.

Aragorn he had known previously in passing, but he could now see a good leader with a core of kindness and wisdom. He looked after all in the group and never expected anything in return. As a marchwarden with soldiers under his own command, Haldir could appreciate and respect him.

His fëamel Ashlan was usually by his side, assisting however she could, and when she was not, she was at the training grounds, sparring with his soldiers. She was often joined by her sister Alexis, and the two would frequently start up competitions amongst the ranks.

Boromir and Aragorn would sometimes watch them and sometimes join them in training, but they often left the ladies to their own activities. Boromir was a bit of a puzzle to him. It was clear that the man was not comfortable in the Golden Wood, which seemed odd to him given what a safe haven Caras Galadhon was. Perhaps, he simply was not used to being around elves. Whatever it was, he seemed to constantly be on edge, and he and Alexis, despite being a matched pair, seemed to have a strained friendship at best.

“Boromir comes from a land where women are seen as pretty ornaments to decorate their husbands’ arms and bear their heirs,” Eliril explained when he pointed it out to her in private. “Alexis will not accept anything less than being his equal, and she would rather have nothing than be treated as a lesser person.”

Haldir had nodded and wished the two luck in working through their differences. While they may be content without each other, they would have know more than a muted happiness in comparison to the ecstatic joy one felt when they and their fëamel were in tune with one another, and their souls sang the same song in perfect harmony together.

Merry and Pippin he found infinitely amusing. The two were insatiably curious about anything and everything and could find joy even while they grieved the loss of their friend. He had lost count of the number of questions they had asked him when he visited their campsite along with Eliril.

Frodo and Sam were of a much more serious bent, naturally. It was clear that Frodo’s burden weighed heavily upon him, and Sam focused on looking after him to the best of his ability. Haldir hoped such loyalty would prove a comfort to the Ring-bearer.

Legolas was easy to understand and befriend, kin that he was and closer kin yet he’d likely become. Yet, his budding friendship with the dwarf of the group, Gimli, was odd to observe. Eliril had laughed merrily at him when he pointed out the strangeness of it.

“Let them be, Haldir. Only good can come from their friendship. We only strengthen the Enemy’s hand when we focus on the differences between the free races. Dwarves may be gruff and seem rude, but they are also fiercely loyal and take honor seriously. They are not open or quick to trust or befriend others, but I think that is because such things are important to them. Once you earn a dwarf’s friendship, it is for life,” she told him with a smile as she patted his arm affectionately.

He had accepted her words and continued to watch the pair with interest until he was called back to the border, only a week after the arrival of Eliril’s friends. Though she had wanted to accompany him, he convinced her to stay to spend time with those she considered family and promised to return when he could.

More than three weeks had passed before he was able to return to Caras Galadhon to report to his lord and lady the strange light and smoke they had witnessed from the peaks over Moria. After his report, he expected to be dismissed, but the two leaders had further orders for him.

“The Fellowship will leave our lands on the morrow,” Lord Celeborn stated as he turned from where he was gazing through the trees. “Lead them to the river. Boats will be prepared for them to travel south via the water.”

“Yes, my lord,” Haldir replied with a bow before preparing to leave.

“The darkness deepens, but not all hope is lost,” Lady Galadriel commented thoughtfully before turning to him. “Keep Eliril close, Haldir. You will need each other before the end.”

Haldir swallowed and bowed once more at her words before retiring for the night. It was late, and he would visit Eliril in the morning before leading the Fellowship through the woods.

When the next morning dawned, Haldir made his way to Eliril’s home and knocked on the door. “Good morning,” he greeted with a smile once she had opened the door for him.

She smiled back, but it was subdued. “They are leaving this morning, aren’t they,” she asked with a small sigh.

“They are,” he answered with a nod before reaching forward and taking her hand. “We shall lead them to the river so that they may travel further south via boats on the water.”

She nodded and allowed him to lead her away from her home and to the clearing where the Fellowship had been camping. He found all of them packed and ready to depart, just glancing around for anything they had missed. “Good morning, my friends,” he greeted them with a small bow. “Eliril and I have been tasked to lead you further into the woods to the river. If you are ready, we will depart.”

There was a general murmur of consensus before Haldir turned and led them down one of the many paths from the clearing. A quiet somber mood was over the group as they walked, and Haldir could not blame them. He knew little about the quest they had undertaken, but it was a difficult task they had set for themselves. And he knew not how they would accomplish it. Still, he would do his part in this war against evil and defend his home.

Eliril fell back into the group and spoke to various members quietly, and afterwards, they seemed of a lighter countenance. So, he could only imagine that she was speaking words of encouragement, faith, and strength to them as they travelled. He was grateful for her presence.

When they reached the river, he could see the lord and lady with their attendants waiting for them. He turned to the group and said, “Here we must part, friends. May the light of the stars and the might of the Valar go with you wherever your road leads.” He bowed to them in parting before motioning them onward. “The lord and lady await you.”

Eliril hugged several in the group and said her final words of parting to them before joining him, and they watched the group join the rulers of Lothlórien. Gifts were given and words were exchanged between them before they boarded their boats and left the shore. Then, Lady Galadriel began to sing as they drifted down the river.

It was a rare treat for the Lady of the Golden Wood to grace them with her voice, but such a song! It was a song of parting and change and left Haldir in lower spirits than before. He suddenly felt as if he would never see the woods again as they once were. “All is changing,” he declared softly as he looked at the woods around them.

“Not all change is for the worse,” Eliril answered as she took his hand in her own and squeezed it gently. “We will see them again when this is all over. We will see them again, and though all may change around us, still we will have one another and our other friends and loved ones.”

He brought the hand he held to his lips and placed a kiss upon the back of it. “I thought I would need to comfort you this morning, but instead, you are comforting me and with my own words, no less,” he declared with a shake of his head and quirk of his lips.

“They are wise words,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulder.

“One of my finer moments then,” he answered with a full smile this time, comforted by her presence and words.

“Definitely,” she agreed with a small laugh as they continued to watch the boats sail away amidst the lingering echoes of Lady Galadriel’s song.

When the boats were no longer visible, even to elven eyes, Haldir turned and began leading Eliril back to Caras Galadhon. “Come, my star, we must return. We need to prepare to rejoin the soldiers at the border.”

“We,” she questioned with a lifted brow as she turned to him.

“Aye, we,” he stated with a nod. “This morning has proven that we are better together, and I will not let you out of my sight again until this war is finished at last.”

She squeezed his hand again. “Thank you,” she said with clear gratitude in her voice. “I will be happy to stand beside you when the time comes.

Haldir nodded but remained silent. He could feel that the end was drawing near. What end that was, he was unsure, but he would have hope like Eliril that things would end well, even if all was changed in the process.

Chapter Text

Legolas glanced at Gimli who had fallen asleep in the front of their small boat. He shook his head. He was beginning to wonder if it was a special talent of dwarves to be able to sleep in all places and circumstances. Gimli was clearly uncomfortable in the boat out in the water, and yet he was fast asleep.

He continued to paddle after the two boats in front of him and let his mind drift to pleasanter thoughts than the sleeping habits of his dwarven companion. Seeing Eliril in the Golden Wood had only put him in mind of his own fëamel whom he had left behind in the palace of his father.

He had barely known Gliril two years before he had left to travel to Imladris to report on Gollum’s escape. It was a blink of an eye to one of his great age. Yet already he missed her and longed for her company and soothing songs.

When he had returned home from that patrol, he had never imagined that his match might be waiting for him, but he had been happily surprised when he saw a mark on the hand of the pretty minstrel that had entertained them. When she suddenly fainted, however, he had panicked, thinking that some cruel fate had snatched his fëamel from him just as he’d met her. Thank all the Valar that had not been the case.

In the succeeding months, he had spent much of his free time with her to get to know her and her friend Lamaeneth, who was matched with his father, and that had been even more surprising to him than finding his own fëamel. He, of course, was ecstatic for his father and thought that Lamaeneth was a good match for him as she was not intimidated by him at all.

He thought he and Gliril also made a good match, though he didn’t quite feel as confident in his own match as he did his father’s. His time was not his own, and he’d spent much of the last two years on patrol, protecting his kingdom and people. In what time he had spent with his fëamel, he had learned that she loved music and shared his particular sense of humor that no one else seemed to have.

He was not the most musical of elves, having focused on his fighting skills. Still, he loved music and could appreciate Gliril’s skill. Perhaps, in the future, he might be able to practice music more. When he was a much younger elfling, he had learned how to play a flute, but it had been many years since he’d touched the instrument. First, though, they had to destroy the Ring.

That thought pulled him back to the present as they passed by the Argonath. His eyes immediately went to Aragorn, knowing that his friend must be feeling the weight of the giant statues upon him. Luckily, Ashlan was with him, and he could not think of anyone more suited to supporting Aragorn in such a moment.

His lips twitched up into a small smile at the thought of the couple. Although he did not know Ashlan as well as he knew Aragorn, one did not get to know one without getting to know the other to some degree. They were a unit, a fierce unit at that. When he’d first met her, she had been outspoken and offensively blunt. She was still both of those things, but experience had tempered them somewhat in the intervening years. She now listened as much as she spoke, but she was still just as much a force on the battlefield as she ever was, seemingly able to draw on never-ending stores of energy.

Naturally, his eyes and thoughts shifted to the other couple in their Fellowship. He did not know Boromir or Alexis nearly as well as the other two, having just met them both in Imladris, but the two seemed rather ill-suited to be a match in his opinion. Where Aragorn and Ashlan seemed like two halves creating a stronger whole, Boromir and Alexis seemed more like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. Alexis was just as opinionated as her sister, and Boromir’s stubbornness and pride didn’t seem to deal well with that. Still, he supposed the Valar knew what they were doing and that the two would work things out... or not. He had known of matched couples of Men before that chose separate roads even if such a thing was unheard of among the Elves.

And that led his thoughts into a full circle back to Gliril. Was she still safe in his father’s halls? The eastern shore was being patrolled by orcs, and when the current had taken them too close, the orcs hadn’t wasted a moment before shooting at them. And just the previous night, he had shot down one of the Nine on some flying beast. It was certainly not a comforting thought to know that they were even more mobile now.

So, the question remained. Was she well? Was she safe with his father and their people? Was his home safe at all? Being in Lothlórien and knowing how close he was to home had been difficult. Luckily, he had not been alone in his feelings, for Gimli had confessed the same to him. And hadn’t that been a surprise, to discover how much he and the dwarf had in common. Gliril had told him quite firmly to leave his prejudices behind, and when he had questioned her about it, she had asked in a serious and rather disappointed tone if he had learned nothing from the Battle of Five Armies. He had been thoroughly chastened and apologized immediately. Gliril seldom did such things. She was gentle and quiet most of the time, so when she stated things with such conviction, he did his best to listen.

“How much longer before we can be rid of these blasted boats,” Gimli asked, shaking him from his thoughts as he continued to paddle down the river.

“Not much longer now,” Legolas assured him. “The Falls of Rauros lie ahead,” he added even as he saw Aragorn begin to pull up to the shore with the others. “Even now, Aragorn is pulling his boat ashore.”

“Thank Mahal,” Gimili muttered under his breath.

Legolas couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at his companion, but he kept silent as he steered them towards the other three boats now pulled up onto the western shore. Within a few minutes, he and Gimil had their own boat next to the others, and then he was able to turn his attention to his surroundings while the dwarf went to make himself useful at the camp being set up.

Legolas stayed near the water’s edge as he examined the surrounding area. As soon as his feet had touched the ground, he’d felt something was off. Now, he turned all his attention to figuring out what it was. He narrowed his eyes as he did his best to see through the trees, but his attention was called back as Aragorn joined him.

“What is it,” Aragorn asked quietly, clearly not wanting to alert the others that something was wrong.

“I do not know,” Legolas admitted with a frown. “But I can feel something drawing near. I would suggest that we cross as soon as possible.”

“We cannot,” his friend replied with a sigh as he also looked into the trees. “With the orcs patrolling, we will have to wait for cover of darkness.”

Legolas nodded his understanding of his friend’s logic, even if he didn’t like it. “We should prepare ourselves then. I fear evil will soon be upon us.”

Aragorn nodded before moving back towards the fire. “We will cross at nightfall,” he informed the others. “We can then approach Mordor from the north.”

“We’ll have to get through Emyn Muil first,” Gimli commented with a shake of his head. “It’s an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks, and after that it’s nothing but stinking, festering marshes for miles.”

“It will be a difficult path,” Ashlan commented as she stared out at the water. “But it is the least travelled and, therefore, the safest.”

Legolas had to agree with her, but he was not looking forward to the Dead Marshes. They were the very site of the Battle of Dagorlad where his grandfather had fallen. He had never known Oropher, but everyone spoke of him as a good king and leader. Everyone also stated in rather hushed whispers that his father had never been the same since.

He made himself comfortable next to the fire that the others had started with his back to the water in order to keep an eye on the woods around them. But, otherwise, he allowed his thoughts to wander as they had all day.

“Where is Frodo,” Sam asked as he startled himself from a nap and brought Legolas out of his own thoughts. Before anyone could say anything, Sam was up on his feet and charging into the woods, shouting for his friend.

“Don’t worry! We’ll find them,” Merry stated as he and Pippin ran off after Sam.

“Wait,” Aragorn tried to stop them, but they were already gone. “This is an ill turn, indeed,” he cried as he stopped at the first trees, trying to find the steps that belonged to Frodo. “Follow me. We must find Frodo!”

Legolas entered the trees with a strong sense of foreboding. Whatever was coming, it was too late to escape it now. He would just have to hope that they all made it out of the impending situation unscathed. He paused as they came upon a clearing where something clearly had happened.

“There was a struggle of some kind here,” Aragorn stated as he examined the ground closely.

“Boromir,” Ashlan stated with a sigh. “Lexi must have followed after him.”

“So, it would seem,” the ranger agreed with a nod as he placed a hand on his sword, but Ashlan stopped him.

“Go after Frodo,” she stated firmly. “I will follow Lexi and Boromir,” she added as she indicated another path where two sets of footsteps had clearly retreated.

“It is too dangerous,” Aragorn replied in a quiet voice and with a shake of his head as he placed a hand on Ashlan’s cheek, and Legolas turned his head away from the pair to give them what privacy he could. “The Ring may have overcome him.”

“I’m sure it has,” Ashlan replied levelly. “But my sister has followed him, and I will not leave her to deal with him alone if he is still under its influence. And Eru help him if he has harmed her in any way.”

Legolas couldn’t help the smile at those words. The sisters might be very independent, but they were fiercely loyal to each other. He imagined his own Gliril or even quiet Eliril feeling exactly the same way. He had no siblings of his own, but he imagined that most shared a strong bond.

“Very well,” Aragorn finally agreed with a sigh. “Be safe.”

“You as well,” Ashlan returned before hurrying off to the right.

“Come, Gimil, Legolas,” Aragorn said as he strode off to the left. “We must find Frodo as soon as possible.”

Legolas followed his friend without question, and they soon split further when they came to a hill. Aragorn made his way up the hill directly while he and Gimil circled the bottom of the hill. Soon, however, it became clear that danger was upon them. His sensitive ears picked up the sound of many stomping feet in the woods with them.

“Gimil,” he called as he spotted his friend. “We must rejoin Aragorn immediately,” he said before racing up the hill as quickly as he could. He was completely unsurprised to find the ranger in the middle of battling several orcs, large orcs that could move easily in daylight.

In a moment he had his bow off his back and had already fired an arrow into one of the orcs battling Aragorn. He fell into the rhythm of battle, shooting one arrow after another until he began to run low. He then drew his knives and joined the fray in earnest. As the ranks of the enemy began to thin around them, he heard the clear call of a horn.

“It is the Horn of Gondor,” he called to the others in alarm. He’d heard orc horns too many times in his life to mistake the sound for anything else. Their companions must be in grave danger!

Aragorn sprinted towards the sound, quickly leaving him and Gimli behind. All he could do was try to protect his friend’s back as he rushed to the aid of the others. His last few arrows were soon spent, and he was left to his knives entirely. It was slow going after that even with Gimli’s axe cleaving through orcs right beside him. But eventually, they entered a clearing where they could see Boromir lying on the ground, surrounded by their other three companions, and he could only think that the worst had happened as he approached slowly.

“We have to get him back to the campsite,” Ashlan said to Aragorn as she glanced down at Boromir. “We can treat his wounds there.”

“What then,” Aragorn asked with a shake of his head. “The orcs have captured Merry and Pippin!”

“I will take him back to Lothlórien,” Alexis stated with determination. “He can heal there, and the path should be safe enough for now.”

“You will have to row against the current,” Aragron reminded her with a shake of his head. “It will be too difficult.”

Alexis’s eyes narrowed on his friend as he stayed back from the group to listen and watch the interaction. “Just watch and see,” she returned before muttering something in her own tongue that made her sister snort.

“Legolas,” Aragorn turned to address him. “Help me get him up and back to camp. We must be as swift as we can.”

Legolas nodded and moved forward to offer his assistance. Between the four of them, they managed to get Boromir on his feet with a grimace of pain and most of his weight lying across his and Aragorn’s shoulders. He had one arrow embedded in his thigh and another in his shoulder, and Legolas knew that there was no way of knowing immediately whether the arrows had been covered in any sort of poison. They would have to wait and see.

By the time they reached the camp, Boromir was barely conscious and covered in a sheen of sweat. “I’m sorry, Aragorn. I tried to take the Ring from Frodo,” he said as they managed to get him on the ground before Ashlan handed Aragorn a medical bag.

“Be still,” Aragorn tried to soothe him as he moved towards the arrow in his leg.

“Where is he? Where is Frodo,” Boromir insisted with a shake of his head.

“I let Frodo go,” Aragorn said before cutting away the material around the wound. “The Ring’s fate is now out of our hands.”

“Then, you did what I could not,” Boromir stated as he grit his teeth in pain.

Legolas looked up at that and saw that one of the boats now rested on the opposite shore, and he could just make out Frodo and Sam scrambling into the cover of the woods. Were they really going to allow Frodo and Sam to continue on alone? But what was the alternative, to allow Merry and Pippin to remain in the hands of evil? Only evil choices lay before them it seemed.

“I would have followed you, Aragorn,” Boromir stated, and he turned back to the man to see that Aragorn had managed to remove the arrow from his leg and was binding the wound. “I would have followed you to the end, my brother, my captain, my king,” he murmured before falling unconscious.

It did not take much longer for Aragorn to finish binding his wounds. “Get him into the boat,” Alexis said as she indicated the boat she meant, which she had already loaded with the needed provisions.

He and Aragorn managed to do as she wished, though he could tell his friend was still doubtful. “Have faith, mellon-nin,” he chided slightly. “It is the best option in our current circumstances, and the route back to the Golden Wood should be safe enough still.”

Aragorn merely nodded and moved back.

“Will you be joining us,” Ashlan asked her sister quietly as the two said their good-byes nearby.

Alexis took a moment to answer. “I do not think so. Things happen so quickly, and I doubt he will be healed enough to travel before it is all over.”

Legolas found the phrase curious, but he had to agree with the sentiment. It seemed everything with the Enemy was coming to the boiling point and would soon be over, one way or the other. When she was ready, he helped Alexis into the boat. “Be sure to stay close to this shore as much as possible,” he reminded her. She nodded, and he helped to get her into the water.

He watched her take to the oar with a will before he turned at Aragorn’s voice. “Come, friends! Take only what you need! We will not leave Merry and Pippin to death and torment.”

“We travel light,” Ashlan agreed with a nod as she closed her pack and strapped it to her back. “Let’s hunt some orc,” she added with a bit of a feral grin.

“Yes,” Gimli cried with enthusiasm that had Legolas shaking his head. His dwarf companion seemed as bloodthirsty as most of his kind when it came to orcs, not that Legolas could blame him.

Within a moment, he found himself sprinting after the two rangers with Gimli right behind him. He needed little to survive in the wilderness, but he did make sure to stop at the first battle sight to collect as many of his arrows as he could that were still useable. No doubt he would have need of them again, and there was certainly no time to make more.

For the next three days, they ran. As an elf he had greater endurance than most of the children of Men and certainly that of Dwarves. Still, Aragorn and Ashlan led them on with little cessation, and Gimli kept up through sheer stubbornness alone, he was sure. They followed the orcs into Rohan, and it soon became clear that they were taking the hobbits to Isengard, to Saruman who had betrayed them.

“They run as if the very whips of their masters were behind them,” he commented with a shake of his head as they ran on. Earlier, Aragorn had commented that they were gaining on their quarry, but he certainly didn’t see any improvement. “Come, Gimli,” he called back over his shoulder.

“I’m coming,” Gimli shouted back. “Dwarves are natural sprinters, but we are wasted on cross country like this!”

Legolas chuckled quietly to himself at his friend’s response. The fact that Gimli was still keeping up with them at all was impressive. He let the thought go, however, as he continued running behind the two rangers. He could only hope that they would catch up with the orcs before they reached their destination.

On the morning of the fourth day, it was clear that something was different. He could feel it in the air. “Blood has been spilt,” he said quietly as he turned to see the sun rising behind them.

“Speak plainly,” Gimli complained as he paused to catch his breath for a moment.

“There was a battle nearby,” Legolas explained with a grin for his friend before taking off again.

Later in the morning, he could hear horses approaching just as Aragorn and Ashlan paused behind a large boulder. As he joined his friends, he could finally make out a large group of horses riding towards them.

“Hail, Riders of Rohan,” Aragorn cried as they neared. “What news of the Mark?”

Legolas watched in growing alarm as the riders turned and quickly circled them with their spears at the ready. A quick glance, though, showed that Aragorn and Ashlan did not seem too bothered by the situation.

A well armored horseman pulled up to the front of the group, clearly the leader. “What business does a man, a woman, an elf, and a dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!”

“We are tracking a band of Uruk-hai westward across the plain,” Ashlan answered quickly with a glance at Gimli who had opened his mouth, no doubt to put the rider in his place.

“They have taken two of our companions captive,” Aragorn continued.

The rider dismounted and removed his helmet. “The Uruks are dead. We slaughtered them in the night.”

“But were there two hobbits with them,” Gimli asked urgently.

“They would appear no bigger than children to your eyes,” Aragorn explained, and he could only hope that they would get some information about their friends.

The rider shook his head. “We left none alive. We piled the bodies and burned them,” he stated as he pointed in the direction from which they had come.”

“Èomer! Lord Èomer,” a voice called from behind him as a huge man came up behind the rider. He had red-brown hair that was pulled back, a scruffy beard, and a large axe strapped to his back. When he reached them, he paused, looking them over. “These people…,” he began but was cut off by a nearby scream.

“Adrien,” Ashlan yelled before throwing herself at the newcomer and launching into a slew of words in their native tongue.

Adrien laughed as he hugged Ashlan tight. “Ash, it’s good to see you. Lord Èomer, this is my sister Ashlan and my very good friend and, I imagine, eventual brother, Aragorn. I do not know the other two.”

“Legolas of the Woodland Realm,” he introduced himself with a bow.

“Gimli, son of Glóin, of Erebor,” Gimli stated with a nod.

“Well met,” Adrien returned with a nod while his arm remained around his sister.

Èomer looked up at the sky for a moment before calling over his shoulder. “Bring forth extra mounts for the newcomers! We must away to Edoras!”

“Thank you for the use of the horse, but we cannot accompany you,” Aragorn stated firmly but quietly. “We must continue our search for our companions. Even if they are no longer in this world, we must finish the task we have set for ourselves.”

“Lord Èomer, we cannot allow them to continue on,” another of the riders stated with a glance towards their group. “They must come to Edoras to beg leave of the king as the law states.”

Èomer seemed about to say something, but Adrien stepped forward. “My lord, allow me to accompany them. I will see that they make their way to Edoras as soon as the fate of their companions is known and return the borrowed mounts.”

“My lord, forgive me for speaking out of turn, but this man has not been with us long. Can he be trusted with such a task,” the other rider questioned with a glance at Adrien.

“You would question his loyalty when he saved my cousin not even a week ago,” Èomer asked with a lifted eyebrow. “He may not be born of Rohan, but he has also saved my own life in the past, and he has my trust. Therefore, you may do as you wish, Adrien. I grant your friends temporary leave to pass through our lands as a member of the royal family.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Adrien replied with a bow as horses were brought forward including a massive stallion.

“I see they found a horse that could actually bear you,” Ashlan commented with a laugh.

Adrien smiled a bit sheepishly but laughed as well. “Indeed, they did,” he replied as he mounted his horse with practiced ease.

Legolas took the reins of one of the remaining mounts and then turned to Gimli. “Come, Gimli. You will ride with me,” he stated before helping his friend mount. He quickly climbed up behind his much shorter friend and directed the horse towards the edge of the group.

“We will meet again in the Golden Hall,” Èomer stated with a nod before turning to his men. “Ride now!”

In a matter of moments, the riders and turned their horses with the expertise born of long hours in the saddle and ridden off, following their leader. Legolas turned his attention to the others who remained with him as Aragorn began leading the way.

“Come, my friends! Let us continue our quest,” he called as he rode in the direction Èomer had indicated where they could now see billows of smoke, no doubt from the burning corpses from the battle the night before.

Legolas quickly directed his mount to follow, and it did not take them long before they reached the site of the previous night’s battle. As Èomer had said, there were mounds of burning orc corpses, and Legolas breathed lightly at the horrid stench of it, moving his horse upwind to mitigate it as much as possible before he dismounted and helped Gimli down.

While Gimlii moved towards one of the large piles, Legolas searched around the perimeter, hoping that he might spot something that would indicate that their friends had escaped the chaos of battle. At first glance, he could see nothing out of place, however, and he moved back towards where Aragorn and Gimli examined the dead.

“It’s one of their wee belts,” Gimli commented in a cracked voice as he held up the small belt.

Legolas felt as if he’d just taken an arrow to the heart. He was not especially close to Merry and Pippin, but they were merry folk and had brought much joy to their Fellowship. They did not deserve such an end as this. Before he could even begin his prayers for them, though, Ashlan’s voice cried out from behind them.

“Aragorn, over here,” she summoned her partner as she indicated something on the ground.

Legolas followed behind the ranger as he joined Ashlan. He knelt in the grass to examine something. “A hobbit lay here,” he indicated one spot of flattened grass before turning to another nearby. “And the other was here.” He moved slowly forward. “They crawled with their hands bound, but then their bonds were cut,” he continued as he held up a piece of rope.

“The tracks lead away from the battle,” Ashlan commented as she moved forward ahead of Aragorn.

“Yes,” Aragorn agreed with energy. “They ran this way and into Fangorn Forest.”

Legolas breathed a sigh of relief at the news. “They may be alive yet,” he stated quietly with a smile.

“But what would have driven them into such a place,” Gimli asked as he glanced at the dark woods with some trepidation.

“A chance to survive, I’m sure,” Adrien answered him as he moved back towards the horses. “Give me just a moment.”

Legolas watched as the large man spoke to the horses and then let them go free. He had no idea what he was doing, especially considering that he had given his word that the horses would be returned. But he thought it best to wait for an explanation, which was forthcoming.

“They cannot pass easily through the forest, so they will meet back up with us when we need them,” Adrien stated before motioning Aragorn to lead the way into the trees.

Legolas nodded at the news. Knowing that Adrien must have spent years in Imladris as his sisters had, his actions did not seem out of place. So, he shrugged off the interaction and moved into the trees.

Not long after they had entered, Gimli stopped to examine a dark substance on some of the greenery. “Orc blood,” he spit after tasting it. He quickly wiped his hand off before continuing, now with his axe at the ready.

As they ventured onward, Legolas could hear the trees whispering to one another. He had never been in a forest that was quite this old or alive, and it fascinated him. He wished that he had the time to explore this wood and learn all that the trees had seen, for this forest was full of many memories, but it seemed that most of those memories were not pleasant as waves of anger rolled off the trees as they began to creak above them.

“You should sheath your axe, Gimli,” he suggested as he looked up into the trees. “This forest is old, full of memory and anger, and the trees speak to one another.”

The dwarf glanced at the trees skeptically but put his axe back in its holster. The creaks and groans above them immediately quieted. “I see,” he stated with a nod. “Though I’m not sure what trees might discuss with one another except the consistency of squirrel droppings.”

Legolas couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at that. “Perhaps,” he acknowledged before sighing. “Ah, how I wish there was time to explore the deepest parts of this wood to learn all that these trees have seen!”

“It may be that you can return here, Master Elf, when the danger has passed,” Adrien commented softly as he walked ahead of them, and Legolas noticed how quietly he could move for someone of such a large stature. It was rather impressive.

Legolas thought about those words for several moments. “I would like that,” he stated with a nod and a small smile on his face as he imagined walking here again with, perhaps, Gliril with him.

Aragorn and Ashlan lost the trail they had been following not long after that, but there seemed to be large footsteps that started where the trail died off. So, with nothing else to lead them forward, they followed the new tracks instead. They only rested briefly during the night before continuing the following day.

Tensions were higher that day as they had seen a hooded figure near their camp in the night. Legolas assumed that it was Saruman, and he had to wonder how they were going to fight a wizard if the need arose. He hoped that it didn’t come to that, but he also couldn’t see how it wouldn’t.

Around midday, he heard someone moving through the forest ahead of them. “Aragorn,” he called in as quiet a voice as he could manage while still reaching the ranger’s ears. “Someone draws near.”

Aragorn paused and listened for a moment before nodding. “It must be Saruman. We must be quick to attack. Otherwise, he will place a spell upon us. Ready yourselves!”

Legolas silently drew an arrow from his quiver and readied his bow. The others did the same, and, together, they all moved forward as silently as they could. When they were level with their would-be assailant, he quickly turned and fired his arrow at the white clad figure, but it was batted harmlessly away. His companions’ attacks met with the same results, and his heart sank at the implications.

“Show yourself,” Aragorn demanded angrily after dropping his sword.

The figure moved out of the light so that they could see him more clearly, and Legolas felt his eyes go wide before he knelt on the ground. It was Gandalf! He could hardly believe his own eyes, but it was their friend returned to them again. He, of course, knew the history of the Istari who had arrived in Ennor, servants of the Valar. Still, it was incredible to think that Gandalf had either managed to escape the balrog, or that he had been brought back with even more power than when he’d left them. Given the aura radiating from him Legolas had to believe the second one was true even if it was more unbelievable that the first. Such an act must have involved the Allfather himself. It was simply incredible.

When Legolas finally tuned back into the conversation around him, he stood, realizing that he was still kneeling through Gandalf’s explanation of what had befallen him. He did his best to focus as the wizard finished speaking.

“I have been sent back at the turn of the tide,” he stated before walking off into the trees, clearly expecting them to follow. “We must get to Edoras with all speed. Things go ill with the king, and it will not be easy to overcome.”

“What of Merry and Pippin,” Gimli questioned gruffly. “Are we to leave them in this dank, tree infested,” he began before the branches above him began creaking ominously, and he changed his tune. “I mean charming, quite charming forest.”

“Do not worry for them, Master Dwarf,” Gandalf stated as they continued on their way. “They are in good hands and much safer than you are about to be. They’re coming here was more than mere chance. It is the ripples of a small stone thrown into a lake.”

“You still speak in riddles, my friend,” Aragorn commented with a laugh.

“Merry and Pippin coming to Fangorn Forest has set things in motion that they never could have foreseen,” Ashlan commented evenly as she walked beside her match.

“Quite right,” Gandalf commented with a nod. “The trees are going to wake up and realize that they are strong.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Gimli muttered with a bit of a scoff in his voice as they quickly found themselves back on the plains.

Gandalf gave a piercing whistle a moment later, and within just a few minutes, they could see a beautiful horse approaching with their own mounts following behind. Legolas shook his head. “That is one of the Maeras unless my eyes are being cheated by some spell,” he said with some awe as he had never before seen such a creature even as old as he was.

“This is Shadowfax, the Lord of Horses,” Gandalf said with clear affection for the steed. “And he has seen me through many difficulties and dangers.”

“And here is Gram and his friends,” Adrien said with a smile for his own mount as he rubbed the horse’s nose.

“Come! We ride for Edoras,” Gandalf commanded as he climbed onto Shadowfax.

Legolas helped Gimli mount the horse they had previously ridden. He mounted up behind his friend, and then they set off for the Golden Hall of the King of Rohan. He wondered exactly what they would find there based on what the wizard had said regarding the situation in Rohan. Neither Adrien nor Èomer had indicated that there was any problem in the country, but, perhaps, that was due to their loyalty to the king. No one wanted their king and country to appear weak to strangers. He supposed they would have to wait and see and trust in Gandalf to set things right.

Chapter Text

Èowyn was tired. She had not had a decent night’s rest since her cousin was brought back severely injured a week before. Since then, she had been assisting the healers in looking after him. Luckily, he had woken up that morning, and the healers had finally declared that he was out of immediate danger. She had breathed a sigh of relief and nearly collapsed in exhaustion, but there was no time to rest.

The day before, her brother had returned after going against her uncle, and the king had had him confined to his room for the time being while he determined what to do with him. She supposed it was better than Èomer being imprisoned, but she was still concerned for him.

Worse, her brother had returned without Adrien, and her disappointment had been acute. As soon as she had learned of her brother’s return, she had anticipated and depended upon her match’s return as well. She had needed his strength and support, and she was tired of dealing with Gríma’s unwanted advances and leers. Adrien, being as large as he was, was a wonderful deterrent to such behavior.

The thought of the large red-haired man brought a tired but sincere smile to her face. He had appeared out of nowhere like a wild wind, saved her brother’s life, declared himself her soul’s match, and vanished, all in just a few days. As soon as he had told her that they were matched, she had, of course, spent as much time as she could with him, learning as much as she could in the short time that she knew they had. Still, after only a few days, he had left to return north, and she’d had no idea if he would ever return.

The intervening years had been difficult. With each passing day, her hope of his return dwindled just a bit more. It was possible that he had never made it home, that he was dead, and she would never know. It was possible that he had chosen not to return for one reason or another, or he could have been prevented from returning by any number of circumstances. The reason really didn’t matter. The fact was he was not there, and the likelihood of his ever being there was practically non-existent.

Then, he had suddenly appeared again last summer like a sudden storm, and she had been rendered speechless by the sight of him. The five years in which they had been separated had only added to his noble air. He moved with even more surety and confidence. His hair was a little longer than she remembered, and his beard was a little fuller, but his blue eyes still sparkled with the same warmth when they saw her. He had greeted her uncle formally and explained that he hoped to be able to reside permanently in Rohan.

After making his request, he had smiled at her, leaving her in no doubt as to why the request had been made, and she was sure that the last five years had been worth it for that moment alone. Unfortunately, Gríma had been able to convince her uncle to refuse his request, and the king had only granted him temporary leave to reside in Rohan and fight alongside them.

But Adrien had accepted the offer graciously. “I thank you sire, for your generous offer and willingly and readily accept. If you will allow me the use of one of your fine steeds, I would like to join Prince Théodred’s riders and would be happy to carry any message you wish to your son.”

“Very well,” the king agreed with a nod before adding. “Return to me in two days. I will have everything prepared then. In the meantime, you have my leave to reside in the barracks here,” he stated with a final wave of his hand.

Adrien bowed before taking his leave, and Èowyn wasted no time at all in slipping out of the side door of the hall to follow him. She caught up with him just outside of the stable after making a brief stop in the kitchen. “Adrien,” she called out as soon as she was within close range.

“My lady,” he greeted her with a bow and a smile. “I should have known that you would follow me.”

“Yes, you should have,” she agreed as she reached him. She wanted to throw her arms around him. She wanted to tell him how alone and trapped she had felt in her uncle’s home recently.

Perhaps, something of what she felt showed on her face for he took her hands gently in his own callused ones and squeezed them. “It is good to see you again, Èowyn.”

“You were gone for a very long time,” she stated in a quiet voice that sounded much too vulnerable for her taste, but it was done now.

“I returned as soon as I could,” he assured her as he released one of her hands and began walking towards the stable once more. “I was tasked with escorting my sisters and several friends to various kingdoms across Middle-Earth and had to make sure that they were settled and would be safe before I could leave them.”

Her heart warmed at his sense of duty and responsibility to those under his care, but she was also rather jealous of the many things he had no doubt seen on such a journey. When they entered the stable, she took the lead. “Gram is this way.”

“Gram is here,” he asked with a smile. “How fortunate that the same steed would be available to carry me!”

“It had little to do with fortune. He has not allowed another to ride him since you left,” Èowyn explained with a shake of her head.

“Really,” Adrien questioned with clear surprise. “I did not think we had formed such a deep bond in such a short time.”

“The strength of bonds cannot be measured in time alone,” she returned in a quiet voice as they reached the horse’s stall.

Adrien reached forward to rub the horse’s nose and was soundly bitten for his effort. “Well,” he said jerking his arm back and rubbing the injured spot. Luckily, the horse had not broken the skin. “I see I must apologize to you as well. Regrettably, I have no treats to offer you as a bribe for your goodwill.”

Èowyn couldn’t help but laugh as she pulled the small apple from her pocket that she had grabbed for the horse. “Lucky for you, I do,” she said as she handed her apple over to him. “I knew how upset he would be with you.”

“I am in your debt,” Adrien said with a grateful nod as he fed the apple to the clearly irritated horse. “I feel that it is going to take more than a single apple for him to forgive me, however,” he said as he reached forward to rub Gram’s nose again. This time the horse allowed it, though he did snort at him.

“Come. I will show you to the barracks,” Èowyn stated as she turned to head back out of the stable, trusting Adrien to follow her. “You should be housed in the hall, but it is probably for the best if you are not,” she stated with a sigh.

“Is all well,” Adrien asked as they entered the barracks.

“My uncle has become more suspicious and dependent on his advisor’s words,” she explained in a quiet voice in case anyone was nearby. They reached a room at the end of the long hallway, and she opened the door. “This one is unoccupied right now.”

Adrien stepped closer and took her hand in his. “It’s not only Gram to whom I owe an apology.”

Èowyn shook her head. “You were honest with me, Adrien. I knew that it might be some time before you were able to return,” she stated, not meeting his eyes.

“That does not mean that it was easy,” he returned quietly. “And I can tell you that it was not easy on me either to constantly be delayed. But I, at least, knew that I was on my way while you did not.” He gently tilted her head so that she would look at him. “I will make it up to you, though. That I promise.”

She nodded, and the two parted ways. She was kept busy the following day, and the day after that, he had ridden out to join her cousin. She had only seen him a handful of times since then, but they had tried to make time for one another during those short visits. She was jolted out of her half sleep and reminiscing by a servant entering the room.

“My lady, visitors have arrived,” she said with a curtsy as Èowyn stood to face her. “They are greeting the king now.”

“Thank you,” Èowyn replied with a tired smile. She heaved a sigh as soon as the servant left and stretched her muscles before making her way towards the throne room.

As soon as she had entered the room from the small side door, her eyes alighted on the man who had just been occupying her thoughts. Adrien had returned! She wanted to run to him immediately and feel his strength surrounding her, but she could not, not while her uncle was greeting the visitors. At that thought she turned her attention to the scene unfolding.

“Too long have you sat in the shadows, King of the Mark,” the one clothed in white stated firmly as he lifted his staff in the air. The shadows in the hall seemed to recede as the man continued to speak. “Too long have you listened to twisted tales and crooked promptings,” he declared with a dark look in Gríma’s direction that lifted her heart. Finally, someone saw the advisor for the snake he was! “I bring you counsel if you will have it. Step forth from your hall and look abroad!”

Èowyn watched as her uncle slowly stood from his throne. He took a couple of steps down from the dais but staggered slightly on the third, and she darted forth to catch his arm and steady him. He quickly righted himself and stepped slowly towards the entrance, and she stayed close by in case he needed her again.

“Open the doors! The king comes forth,” the man called as he knocked his staff against the doors.

The doors were opened by those without, and she watched as her uncle and king stepped forth from the hall for the first time in months. She followed close behind him in case he needed her aid again, but the man turned to her with a smile.

“Leave him with me, my lady. I will care for him,” he assured her.

“Go, Èowyn,” her uncle said with a pat to her arm. “I am well enough.”

She nodded and dropped a curtsy before returning to the hall. She had just stepped past the door when a voice called to her, and she lifted her head to see that Adrien was coming towards her. “Adrien,” she greeted him with the first full smile she’d had in many days as she held her hands out to him.

“It is good to see you, as always, Èowyn,” he said as he took her hands into his own. “Come. Allow me to introduce you to our visitors.”

She nodded and followed him to where the rest of his group waited.

“This is my sister Ashlan,” he said with clear affection for the brunette in front of her.

“It is a pleasure to meet you at last,” Ashlan stated with a smile. “My brother spoke of little else the last time we were together.”

Èowyn felt her cheeks warm with a mild blush at the statement before smiling at her. “He speaks of his sisters quite often as well,” she stated in return before Adrien continued.

“This is Aragorn, my good friend, and Ashlan’s match,” he said with a clap to the other tall man’s shoulder. “And these are their companions, Legolas and Gimli.”

She nodded at them. “I am happy to meet all of you,” she declared before turning to Adrien. “And the man in white,” she asked with a glance towards the doors.

“That is Gandalf,” he said with a furrowed brow. “Have you never met before? He was here not so long ago.”

She shook her head in answer and glanced towards the doors again. She had heard much of Gandalf, both good and bad.

“Have no fear,” Adrien assured her. “The king is safe with him. I would not have left him otherwise.”

“I know,” she said before the sight of her brother caught her eye as he came out of a nearby hallway. “Èomer,” she called before stepping quickly to him and embracing him.

Her brother patted her back gently before releasing her. His eyes caught on someone behind her, and she turned to see Adrien joining them. “I am glad to see you have returned,” he assured the other with a clap to the shoulder. “I cannot linger, however. The king has summoned me.”

“Of course,” Èowyn said with a nod before moving out of his way.

“Èowyn,” Adrien addressed her and turned her attention back to him. “What of Théodred?”

“Oh,” she exclaimed with surprise. “He awoke this morning. The healers are certain that he is out of any danger,” she told him with a smile as he breathed a sigh of relief. “Come. I will take you to him.”

Adrien nodded, and she led the way to her cousin’s room, leaving their other visitors behind. It only took a few minutes for them to reach their destination. “He certainly looks better,” Adrien commented quietly as he looked his friend over.

“Too bad I don’t feel better,” the man croaked as he opened his eyes slowly.

Adrien immediately stepped forward to help his friend sit up while Èowyn held a cup of water to his lips from which he drank. When he was finished, Adrien helped him to lie back down. “I am glad to see you awake, my prince,” he stated with clear relief.

“Don’t start that,” Théodred complained with a shake of his head. “After this, you are a brother to me, Adrien.”

Adrien glanced at her with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “More like a cousin, but I won’t argue over titles right now.”

Théodred chuckled slightly, which led to a coughing fit that clearly left him in some pain, and it was clear that Adrien regretted his lightheartedness as he lifted him again and held the water to his friend’s lips himself. “Forgive me, my friend. You are still recovering.”

Théodred waved his hand at him weakly in pardon and quickly fell back asleep.

Adrien sighed and looked at her, gazing closely at her face this time. “You have, no doubt, spent long hours at your cousin’s side and are weary,” he said as he placed a gentle had upon her cheek for a moment. “Go and rest, my lady,” he said quietly as he headed back into the hallway.

She followed him, and he walked with her to her chamber. Now that things were calm again, she was, once again, feeling the strain of the last few days. “I shall heed your advice,” she stated as she tried to suppress a yawn.

“Rest well while you may,” Adrien said with a soft smile before leaning forward and placing a kiss upon her brow after glancing down the hallway to make sure they were alone. He then pulled back and waited for her to enter her room.

“If there is need, have someone fetch me,” she stated firmly. Once he had nodded his agreement, she entered her room and readied herself to rest. For the first time in a week, sleep found her quickly, and she fell asleep with a smile upon her lips.

She was awoken a few hours later by a knock on her door. “Yes,” she called a bit groggily.

Her door opened a bit, and a maid stuck her head through the crack. “My lady, the evening meal is about to begin.”

Èowyn’s eyes grew wide as she realized how long she had been asleep, but she felt much better for her nap. “Thank you! I will be there shortly,” she stated before climbing from her bed and quickly beginning to neaten her appearance.

As soon as she was ready, she hastened to the dining hall and found her uncle, her brother, Adrien, and the other guests already seated. She curtsied to her king, who looked stronger and much younger than he had earlier in the day, before beginning to wait upon him. Once he had been served, she took her seat beside Adrien towards the other end of the table.

“I am surprised to see you at the table,” she said quietly to him as he had never before been invited to dine with the king.

“The king seemed to think it well to begin to treat me as a future member of his family,” Adrien replied with a smile before their attention was called to the king.

“Our soldiers are gathering and arming themselves,” he stated with great solemnity. “We will ride out with the dawn to Helm’s Deep where we will meet our enemy in battle.”

Èowyn’s eyes went wide. What had happened while she had slept? She turned to her companion, and he very quietly muttered, “I will explain later.”

“Èowyn,” the king called to her, and she turned her eyes to him once again. “The people have called for a member of the House of Eorl to lead them in my absence. My son is wounded, and I cannot spare Èomer. Therefore, you must lead them in my stead until I return or Théodred recovers.”

“Yes, my lord,” she replied with a bowed head, unwilling to say anything more until she had spoken to Adrien.

The rest of the meal passed in silence, and once they were dismissed, she quickly left the hall and went outside to enjoy the night air. She wrapped her arms around herself as she looked up at the darkening sky. Was she truly to be left behind while those she loved rode straight into danger?

“Èowyn,” she heard Adrien’s voice behind her but did not turn. “Èowyn,” he said again in a softer tone as he placed his hands upon her shoulders.

“Adrien, tell me what has happened,” she implored him as she continued to look out over the plains.

She heard him sigh as he moved to stand next to her. “War is coming, Èowyn. Saruman will not wait any longer before he sends his hoards against us. The king is leading the soldiers out at dawn.”

“Then let me ride with you,” she said as she instantly turned towards him. “I can fight! You have sparred with me before,” she added quietly as she knew others would not approve of such behavior. “You know that I can defend myself.”

“I do know that, but the king would never allow it. And you are needed here for now,” he stated as he stepped in front of her, and she looked up at him. “The people need a leader, and they trust you.”

“So, I must watch those I love ride into battle and be left behind,” she asked as she tightened her arms around herself. “And what am I to do if none of you return? What am I to tell Théodred?”

“We will return,” he said with such conviction that she almost believed him. He then pulled her unexpectedly into his arms in a tight embrace. “I know that this is difficult for you. I know that you wish to protect your family and people. A time will come, Èowyn, when you alone may stand against the darkness. Then will be the time for the great deeds for which you long. Trust me.”

She could hear the pleading in his voice, and she sighed. “I do trust you, and I will remain here,” she agreed after a moment as she held him tightly to her for a few minutes longer before stepping back. “You will need to prepare, no doubt.”

“I do,” he admitted before putting further distance between them. He then took her hand and bowed low over it. “Good night, my lovely shieldmaiden. I will take my leave of you now, though I will see you in the morning,” he said standing back up. “Fare thee well.”

“And you as well,” she returned before he left her to return to the halls. She remained a few moments longer before she, too, turned to go inside. She needed to prepare herself as well.

The following morning dawned too early for Èowyn’s feelings, but she dragged herself from her warm bed and met her uncle, brother, and Adrien in front of the hall.

“Kneel, Èowyn,” her uncle commanded her in a clear voice, and she instantly knelt before him. “Let all that hear me know that I leave Èowyn, my sister’s daughter, of the House of Eorl to lead you in my stead and in my son’s stead,” he proclaimed as he handed her a sword and followed it with a well-made, beautiful corslet. “I will return as soon as I am able,” he said to her in a quiet voice.

“Each day you are away will be as a year to me,” she returned before he lifted her to her feet.

“Lead the people to Dunharrow. There you may hold our defenses if the battle goes ill,” he told her before squeezing her shoulder and moving past her. Her brother did the same before joining her uncle, and she locked eyes with Adrien after he had mounted his horse. He nodded to her, and then they rode away.

She watched until the very last soldier was out of sight and then she returned to the hall. The head servant immediately approached her. “Ready those in the house to depart. Spread the word in the city. We leave for Dunharrow at midday. They must take only what provisions that they need, nothing more, and we must ready carts to transport the injured. We must line them with the softest items that can easily be taken with us and found. Otherwise, we will risk further injury to them,” she stated as she walked with him through the halls. “I will be in my chambers making my own preparations, and then I will see to my cousin,” she finished.

“Yes, my lady,” he replied with a quick bow before hurrying off.

After he left, she quickly retreated to her chamber and shut the door behind her. She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself and avoid thinking about the battle that her loved ones had just ridden off to join. She shook her head and looked down at her hands, which still held the gifts from the king. She gripped the hilt of the sword tightly and felt her courage rise. She was a shieldmaiden of Rohan, and she would not fail! With that thought in mind, she donned the corslet and belted the sword to her waist before getting to work.

Within a half hour, she had all her own things ready to go and quickly made her way to her cousin’s room. “I see you are awake,” she greeted Théodred with a smile as she met his eyes.

“I see you are left to lead our people,” he returned unhappily before turning his eyes to the ceiling. “My father and cousin ride to war, and I am left in my sick bed.”

“Perhaps you will be more careful the next time you come across an orc. Then you will not be left behind with me,” she stated as she worked alongside the maids to pack up bandages and other healing necessities for her cousin’s care.

“A well-aimed hit,” her cousin exclaimed with a snort. “Your tongue is sharper than the sword you wear this morning, Èowyn.”

“I apologize, Théodred, but I have much to do. We must depart for Dunharrow as soon as possible,” she said to him even as she continued to work.

“Dunharrow,” he repeated more to himself. “I see,” he added in a quieter voice, and she turned to see him drifting back off to sleep. That was good. He needed rest, and the trip would be difficult for him with his injuries.

By midday, everything was surprisingly ready, and Èowyn led her people through the gate of Edoras. She then turned south. It was slow going, but they eventually made it to their destination and made camp as best as they could.

For four days she knew nothing of her other family members nor the battle that they fought. She could only hope that all was well, but on the fourth day, just as night was beginning to truly set in, a cry was heard. She rushed from her tent to see Aragorn and Ashlan leading a small company of rugged looking men into the camp, and her heart sank at the small number.

“My lord, Aragorn,” she cried as she neared him. “Please tell me that this is not all that is left!”

“Nay, my lady,” he quickly reassured her. “Those that are with me are the sons of Elrond and warriors of my own people in the north. A difficult battle has been fought and won, and those that have survived are on their way behind us. I and those with me must leave at first light to take another path, but we request a safe place to rest tonight.”

“You may have all the rest you wish if you but tell me now if my kin live,” Èowyn stated with some impatience.

“King Théoden, Èomer, and Adrien all live and have only suffered minor injuries,” Ashlan told her without further delay, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” she returned before giving out orders to make room for their visitors for the night. “Come. Eat with me and tell me your news.”

So, they sat around the fire and spoke of the battle that had occurred at Helm’s Deep and the parley with Saruman. When all was said, she had simply shaken her head. It was clear that they had not shared everything with her, and she did not ask them of the path they were taking. Instead, she simply wished them a good night and sent them to their bedrolls.

Aragorn and those with him left at dawn the next morning, and Èowyn waited anxiously all day for news of the remainder of the army that had ridden from Edoras. But no news came that day.

The following day the arriving soldiers were finally spotted, and she quickly went out to meet them. She spotted her uncle and brother leading the way. “Hail, my lord and king,” she called with a smile to see him still well. “I am glad to see you and Èomer returned!”

The king dismounted from his horse, and the other riders followed suit as he approached her. “It lightens my heart to see you and our people safe here. A great battle has been fought, and we have lost many lives,” he told her as he squeezed her upper arm gently. “But I fear the war is not over yet, and other battles still await us.”

With that said, he moved past her, and she turned her attention to her brother and saw for the first time, a rather small man or perhaps child accompanying him. “Who do you have with you, Èomer?”

“I am Merriadoc Brandybuck, my lady, a hobbit of the Shire, and I have sworn myself into the service of King Théoden,” the small individual, hobbit she supposed, introduced himself.

Èowyn blinked a couple of times. Here before her was a children’s story come to life, but these were strange days. “Well met, Master Merriadoc. So, you are a squire of Rohan now!”

“Indeed, my lady,” the hobbit answered. “And just Merry, if you please, as all my friends call me.”

“Very well, Merry,” she replied with a smile.

“And this is the Lady Èowyn, my sister,” Èomer gestured to her, and she curtsied in greeting.

“And the fairest lady in all Rohan, I imagine,” Merry commented with a grin.

Èowyn laughed as she felt a presence behind her, and a large hand landed on her shoulder.

“Mind who you try to sweet talk, Master Hobbit,” she heard Adrien say from behind her. “This lady is already spoken for.”

Merry snorted. “I would have you know that I am a gentlehobbit of a good family, sir, and would not dream of such a thing! Besides, while your lady may be wondrous fair as Men go, I prefer mine much shorter,” he finished with a grin that had them all chuckling.

Finally, Èowyn turned to look at Adrien, and she saw a dark bruise along his jaw. Her brow crinkled in concern as she began to search for other injuries.

“Worry not, Èowyn. I am not seriously injured,” he assured her before turning from the others. “I would speak with you if you have a moment, though.”

“Of course,” she replied instantly before following him to a quieter spot in the camp.

“As the king has already said, the war is not over,” he stated in a somber tone. “He has been sending out riders as we travelled to muster all the soldiers that Rohan can gather. We will march to Minas Tirith. It is only a matter of when, but I believe it will be soon.”

“Minas Tirith,” she repeated as her mind reeled. They were going to leave her again so soon?

“That is where the hardest blow will fall,” Adrien stated with a shake of his head. “The Enemy would rather see Minas Tirith burned to the ground than see a king return to its throne.”

“What king,” Èowyn questioned.

Adrien looked at her with some surprise. “Aragorn. Did you not know? He is the direct descendent of Isildur.”

She simply shook her head. “So, I am to be left behind again? I am weary of skulking in the hills! Shieldmaiden you name me. Yet where are my great deeds?”

Adrien sighed. “I would have you be safe. I would wish you to stay, but I know you will not,” he said wearily. “So, I will help you as much as I am able. Meet me in the armory at dawn,” he finished before walking away to see to his duties.

Èowyn stood for a moment speechless before returning to her own duties, which she performed in a bit of a stupor. Was he really willing to help her? How would they accomplish such a task? Later that day, a messenger arrived from Gondor with the Red Arrow, and it was decided that the soldiers would move out the following day.

As soon as it was light enough to see that morning, Èowyn made her way to the large tent where any extra weapons and armor had been stored. There she found Adrien already waiting for her.

“I am glad to see you still wear the corslet and sword that the king gifted to you. It will make this easier,” he commented as he sorted through various pieces. “Braid your hair back. That will make it easier to hide.”

Èowyn did as he asked until she reached the bottom of the braid. “I have nothing to tie it,” she stated as she continued to watch him.

He reached behind him and removed the tie from his own hair before handing it to her. Once her hair was in place, he stepped behind her with a helmet in hand and gently tucked the hair into the back of the tunic she wore. She was glad now that she had brought the clothes that she had used to secretly spar with him with her. He then placed the helmet gently on her head, and she could feel that it covered the majority of her face. “There, now you are just another soldier of Rohan,” he stated.

She turned and saw her reflection in a nearby shield, and indeed, she did look like a slender youth riding into his first battle. “Why are you helping me,” she finally asked.

Adrien had moved back towards the pile of armor and now began to pull out arm and leg guards. “I have spent my entire life dealing with stubborn women who don’t listen,” he said with a chuckle and an affectionate smile for his absent sisters. “I learned long ago that it was better to prepare them for what they were going to jump into whether I wished it or not,” he continued as he fastened pieces of armor to her legs before standing. “Besides that, you are my match, Èowyn, fëamel in the Elven tongue, soul’s love. I would see you safe, but even more, I would see you happy,” he said as he fastened guards to her arms. “And you would not be happy to stay here. You would regret it all your days, and I truly believe that there is something that only you can do.”

Èowyn could feel her heart swell with love for this man who seemed to understand her as no one else did, and had it not been for the helmet she wore, she might have kissed him there and then. Instead, she took a deep breath and simply said, “Thank you.”

“Not to mention that if your brother, cousin, and uncle find out that I helped you, I can seek refuge with my sister who will most likely be the Queen of Gondor if everything goes well,” he added with a grin that fell quickly. “There. You are ready,” he said as he looked her over. “I cannot stay with you as you must stay hidden, but take Merry with you. You are lighter than the rest of us, and like you he wishes to ride to war to defend his friends and fight against the tide of evil. And the king has commanded him to return to Edoras.”

“I will,” she said with a nod as she thought about the hobbit that she had met the previous day.

“Be as safe as you can,” he said finally before placing a quick kiss upon her hand and departing.

She waited a few minutes before quietly slipping out of the tent and into the organized chaos of the soldiers breaking camp. She wandered the camp for a few minutes before she finally found her quarry. Merry was sitting despondently upon a rock, dressed in the full armor of a squire of Rohan and watching those around him prepare to leave.

“Master Hobbit,” she addressed him in a quiet voice as she did her best to lower her tone. “Have you a wish to ride to battle?”

Merry looked up at her with surprise at being addressed. “I am not brave,” he stated as he stood. “No hobbit is, but my friends have all gone to war. And I must do what I can, like them.”

“Then ride with me,” she stated firmly as she began to lead the way towards where the horses were kept. “I am lighter than the other riders, and a horse will be able to bear us both to battle.”

Merry hurried after her, and she soon had them both atop her chosen mount. She kept to the back of the riders, and soon the call came to ride out. She nudged her horse into motion, and shortly, she and Merry were riding into a battle where no one wanted them to be.

Chapter Text

Riley McEwan had once been a pretty typical twenty-three-year-old woman. She had graduated from a large university with a degree in Sports and Leisure Management. She had captained her collegiate volleyball team to championship wins, and her goal in life was to be able to coach an Olympic level team someday.

She hadn’t been anywhere near that goal when her life had been turned upside down. She’d been living in a slightly rundown apartment with Erica, who had been working as a freelance photographer, while she was working at a high school coaching their girls’ volleyball team. It certainly hadn’t been glamorous work, and there were days when she wanted to smash every cell phone that she came across after hearing them ring throughout practice. But it had paid the bills, mostly. Still, she was hopeful that new opportunities would have presented themselves. She had already been contacting various people to try to build her network within the field.

She hadn’t been very close with her family. They had thought her particular choice in career was idiotic and had expected her to fail. She still spoke to her mother occasionally and got the news on her siblings, but that was the extent of her family interactions. She had spent much more time with Erica and her other friends, crafting a family of their own from people that truly supported and cared about them.

None of that mattered now, of course, not when she’d been living in Middle-Earth for nearly a decade, and what a strange change that had been! She had done her best to keep her friends’ spirits up while fitting herself into any slot that needed to be filled, whether that was sweeping and making beds in Rivendell or learning court politics from an elven king in Mirkwood. The latter had been the more unexpected of the two.

When Kaylie had explained to them that they would have to leave Rivendell, she’d been fairly bummed for a little while. She’d come to like the place and felt at home there, but she’d quickly rallied and thought over all the places that she still hadn’t seen yet. So, she’d left Rivendell and gone to the Golden Wood with several of her friends. There, she’d seen yet another of her friends find their soulmate, and there, she had been advised by Lady Galadriel to cultivate her talent for affecting the moods and feelings of those around her.

She hadn’t been exactly sure what the lady had meant when she left and ventured forth to Mirkwood, but in the course of staying there she had talked to King Thranduil – after he’d stopped being a jerk to all of them, which, she supposed, mostly had to do with him finding out that Erica was his soulmate because finding your soulmate was a great morale booster – and he had made some interesting suggestions.

“You are still of the second born, of Men,” he had stated the obvious when she had approached him for his opinion on the matter. “Therefore, it stands to reason that your fëamel is also of Men.”

“Yes, I had already thought that myself,” she had replied with a nod.

“Given what Lamaeneth has explained to me, you will most likely be paired with a leader among those of Gondor or Rohan,” he had continued with a thoughtful flick of his fingers. “They are currently the two most powerful kingdoms of Men. Therefore, it would be wise for you to understand politics, how to use your natural gifts to influence those around you to agree with you.”

“And you think that is what Lady Galadriel meant,” she had asked with a frown. She had always hated politics.

“Yes, I do. So, I will allow you to sit in on my council meetings if you like. The politics of Men cannot be nearly as tiresome as those of the Quendi,” he had stated with a snort. “We have all the time we need to argue the same point around in circles, for years if need be.”

And she had seen what he meant. For, she had accepted his invitation and begun attending the council meetings. She said nothing but sat in a corner and watched the inner workings of the kingdom. It was maddening. The same arguments were brought forth each time, sometimes wrapped in a different packaging. After one particularly long meeting in which the same subject was canvassed ten different times, she had turned to King Thranduil and shaken her head.

“How have you not gone completely mad by now,” she’d asked with frustration and a small amount of awe for the ruler.

He’d simply laughed. “You learn to turn your attention elsewhere without missing important details. It’s quite a useful skill.”

And so, Riley had done her best to hone her skills to figure out what made people tick and what words were the right ones to cheer them up or sway them a certain way. Nearly two years later, her skills were certainly being put to the test.

When they had begun preparing to leave Mirkwood, she had realized that she would be leaving her best friend behind. While she was close with all her friends, especially after being transported to another place and time, she was still closest to Erica. Not having her immediately around was a rather depressing thought, but Erica herself had pulled her from her sadness.

“Why are you being so mopey,” her friend had asked. “You’re like one of the most cheerful people I know, so what’s up?”

“I just realized that we’ll be leaving soon, and you’ll be staying here. That’s all,” Riley had explained with a sigh. “I’m seriously going to miss you, but I mean you have to stay here with the king.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty attached to him,” Erica admitted in a more serious and quiet voice than was her wont.

Riley had simply smiled at her friend. “I’m happy for you Erica. I think you got yourself a real winner and that the two of you bring out the best in one another. You make him loosen up, and he gives you confidence in yourself. I just wish we could call or text or even email each other.”

“I guess we’ll have to stick to old school letters,” Erica had stated with a shrug.

“And send them how? There’s not exactly a postal system,” Riley had reminded her.

“Carrier pigeon,” her friend had suggested. “I can see it now. Sending out a hoard of pigeons to all of you and totally having a Wicked Witch of the West moment. ‘Fly my pretties! Fly! Fly! Fly!’ I could do the evil cackling and everything. Think Thran would mind?”

Riley had rolled her eyes but smiled more naturally. “Considering you’re the only person in the universe who can get away with calling him Thran and the goo goo eyes I’ve seen him make at you, I’m sure you’ll be fine. I guess I’ll have to see if Lord Denethor has any carrier pigeons to spare.”

“Now there’s a guy who needs some cheering up if anyone ever did,” Erica had commented offhandedly, but Riley had taken her words to heart before the conversation had turned.

So, she’d set a goal for herself to integrate into the inner workings of Gondor and save Lord Denethor if she could or, at least, minimize the damage his craziness had caused in the films. Politics, after all, was just another type of sport with rules of its own, and this would be a championship match for her.

When they had arrived in Minas Tirith two years earlier, it had been relatively easy for Adrien to ingratiate himself into the guard. He looked the part, and another soldier would never be turned down unless you were Alexis. Women were not treated as equals in Gondor, and they certainly did not join the soldiers. She had a good feeling that Ashlan would be bashing some heads open over that when she became queen.

Emma was quiet and demure as women in Gondor were supposed to be, but she had developed a nearly insatiable love of old scrolls and history in Rivendell. All it took was one good conversation with Denethor, and she was quickly installed in the archives of the city, which was right where she wished to be as she had set herself her own mission. She supposed a female scribe, unlike a female soldier, was acceptable.

Riley’s path was much more difficult. She couldn’t directly request to join Lord Denethor’s council. That would have resulted in the exact opposite of what she was trying to achieve. But there was little in the way of an actual court since Denethor’s wife had died decades before. Still, she did what she could.

For two years, she watched and listened to the members of court that there were, learning about them. It wasn’t that different that learning about her high school players. Each one had pet peeves and triggers, and it was just a matter of observation to learn what they were. Once that was done, she had gradually inserted herself more into their conversations, offering encouragement and assistance where she could.

She didn’t spend all her time in the citadel, however, she also met the women of the city and learned to listen to the whispers and rumors that ran rampant among them. This allowed her to keep an eye on the general morale of the people, and after all her hard work, she thought that things were at least a little less grim, a little less dire. Or she hoped they were.

She looked out of the window of the small room she was staying in. It wasn’t part of the citadel itself, but it was close enough and served her purposes well. Her view, however, had not changed since earlier that morning. The previous day a dark vapor of some kind had started to overtake the horizon, and by the time dawn had come, the sun was completely blocked.

As the day had continued, an occasional shaft of light might break through the darkness, but otherwise, there was a continual twilight over the entire land. Even Riley had to admit that it was rather dismal to look at, but she knew without a doubt that things would turn out well in the end. It was just a matter of getting there.

She shook off her thoughts and left her home to head to the citadel. She had a scheduled luncheon with a couple of the ladies she had befriended over the last couple of years, and if she didn’t leave soon, she would be late. So, she quickly made her way to the nearest side entrance and continued down the long hallway towards her destination.

As she passed the main entrance, she swerved to the left side of the hall out of habit. She had nearly been hit once by the outer doors suddenly opening and had avoided them since. She did not count on the inner doors, which led to the throne room opening instead, and she was forced to leap out of the way in order to avoid injury. It wasn’t graceful by any definition of the word, and she was only saved from winding up in a heap on the floor by latching onto a nearby decorative table.

“That is the second time I’ve nearly had my face smashed in by a door,” she complained to herself in English as she began to right herself. “No wonder, we began cutting windows into our doors!”

“My lady, are you injured,” a voice asked from behind her.

She straightened and turned to see an old man dressed in white standing with a much younger man with dark hair, which was cut to a practical short length and seemed strange considering how many people wore their hair long here. His eyes were the color of an overcast sky, and he certainly looked as if he’d had a hard day, covered in dirt and other muck as he was. She wasn’t sure who he was, though he had a familiar look to him. The older man was easier to figure out.

“Gandalf, it is good to see you. I hope that you left my friends well,” she asked hopefully, wanting to hear of her other friends besides Emma who she talked to every day if she could. The two had grown much closer over the last few years with no one else to rely upon.

The wizard’s head tilted to the side slightly. “Have we met, my dear?”

Riley grinned and shook her head. “No, we have not, but I certainly recognize you. I spent several years in Rivendell, and if I guess correctly, you have recently been travelling with close friends of mine, Alexis and Ashlan. I would appreciate any news you can give me of them.”

“Ah, of course,” he answered with a knowing smile. “I would be happy to do so, but I must see to other matters first.”

“Of course. Forgive me for delaying you,” she replied with a quick curtsy.

“Come, Faramir,” the wizard said before hurrying off.

Riley cast one last glance at the other man before making her way quickly down the hall to her own appointment. So, that was Faramir. He certainly wasn’t the handsomest man she had ever seen and certainly nothing compared to some of the elves she had seen, but there was something about him that drew her thoughts to him. He had an air of nobility that she had seen in very few in the city, and he seemed to have more than any of the others. She wanted to talk to him, but given the situation, she didn’t think that was possible. She was, therefore, taken off guard when he suddenly joined her later that afternoon.

Riley had gone to the outer wall of the highest level to look out over the plain before the city. The darkness was deeper, and she could see the Ringwraiths flying about in the distance. She was glad that they were not close enough to the city for their fear to be felt and cause panic. She wasn’t sure that even she with all her positivity could withstand them. The battle would begin soon. It was just a matter of time.

“It is a dismal view just now,” a voice said from beside her, and she startled slightly and turned to see Faramir standing next to her with his hands upon the wall and looking out at the plains as well. “But I assure you that it is not always so.”

“Oh, I am aware. I have lived here for the last two years,” she informed him as she turned her attention back to the view before them.

“Have you? Yet, I do not recall seeing you before,” he stated before murmuring to himself. “Was I really away from home for so long without even realizing it?”

“Time passes swiftly when one has many responsibilities to keep them occupied,” Riley said in a soothing voice.

He hummed his agreement and remained silent for a few minutes. “Even now, I cannot remain. I must ride out again tomorrow.”

Riley reached over to pat his left hand, knowing that the fight at Osgiliath was not going to go well for him. As she did, she noticed a marking on the back of his hand and grinned. “I am sorry that we will have to wait to get to know one another better,” she stated as she traced the first of the Olympic rings on the back of his hand.

She heard him gasp but continued to trace the rings. “You can see them,” he asked with undisguised hope in his voice.

“Indeed,” she agreed as she held out her own left hand. “I knew my soulmate was somewhere in Gondor. I’m glad that I’ve found you at last,” she said as she glanced at the white tree, scroll, and bow that decorated her own hand as he ran a thumb over the marking.

“What poor timing,” Faramir exclaimed as he turned towards her and took both of her hands in his. “Had I but known you were here for two years waiting for me!”

Riley shrugged it off. “I think the timing is perfect.”

“How so,” he asked with a tilt of his head and a bitter laugh. “I ride out tomorrow, probably to my death, to fight a battle that I have no hope of winning.”

“Do not say that,” she answered firmly. “There is always hope. Besides, is it not better to know that you have a reason to return safely now? Perhaps, it will keep you from doing anything too reckless.”

“Unlikely,” he replied with a more genuine chuckle. “Though, of the two of us, Boromir was always the more reckless one. I wish he were here now. He is a better commander than I am, able to inspire the men when it is needed.”

“I think you will do just fine in his absence, and I am sure he will return soon, complaining, no doubt, of missing out on all the action,” Riley declared with a smile as she thought of Alexis having to deal with a Boromir that was trapped in his sick bed.

“Do you know him,” Faramir asked with a bit of surprise.

“Not very well,” Riley admitted. “We only talked a couple of times, but his soulmate is one of my closest friends. In fact, he’s more likely to be complaining about her than missing the battle.”

“Alexis? I met her briefly when the two of them stopped at Osgiliath on their way north,” Faramir commented as he thought back to the short meeting when he’d last seen his brother. “She seemed rather indifferent to his attentions, which I found surprising.”

“Well, he didn’t make a very good impression on her, and she’s incredibly stubborn. No doubt their journey together will have improved their opinions of one another. Difficult situations often do,” she said easily, sure that everything would work out between the two.

“You are a very cheerful individual,” he commented with a quirk of his lips. “Is that what this means,” he asked as he finally released her hands to hold up his left hand.

“Oh, no,” she replied with a shake of her head. “That is a symbol of unity. Where I am from there is a huge sporting event held every four years. Those rings represent the various peoples coming together and setting aside their differences to join in a show of athleticism and sportsmanship. The colors are different, though,” she said with a frown before she thought about it for a moment. “I guess red and black don’t really have positive connotations here, though. Oh,” she cried in excitement as something occurred to her as she seized his left hand. “It’s just like now!”

“What do you mean,” he asked curiously.

“Each of these rings are the colors of the people’s fighting Sauron and represent the peoples themselves. A ring for Men, a ring for Elves, a ring for Dwarves, a ring for Hobbits, and a ring for the others like the wizards and eagles,” she stated with a grin before pointing out the various colors. “Green and yellow for Rohan. Blue and white for Gondor. Green for the elves and the Shire. Blue for Erebor. I’m not sure where the purple comes in, maybe Dale,” she added more to herself.

“That is a very interesting thought,” he said as he looked at the mark thoughtfully.

“Well, ‘United we stand. Divided we fall.’ as the saying goes,” she commented as she turned to look out at the growing darkness again. They would certainly need to do so now in order to get through this upcoming battle.

He gave her a confused look. “That is not a saying with which I am familiar, but it is certainly a good one to live by and very appropriate at this time. But we are alone. Gondor stands unaided against the coming onslaught,” he finished with a quiet sigh.

“Aid will come,” she assured him firmly thinking of the story she knew and her friends. “Rohan will come as will Aragorn.”

“Aragorn,” he repeated with a furrowed brow. “I have heard that name elsewhere recently. Ah, yes, he is Isildur’s heir, is he not,” he asked quietly. “Such a one would be most welcome to us in our time of greatest need, and Rohan has ever been our allies. But will they come in time? Or will they only find a smoldering pile of stones when they arrive?”

“You sound like your father, very morose,” Riley declared with a roll of her eyes.

“He is very wise and has seen much,” Faramir returned, sounding rather dejected.

“Yes, he has seen much, but he has not seen everything. And while what he has seen may be the truth, it is likely a partial truth only. A partial truth can be more devastating than an outright lie, I have found,” she argued stoutly. She was not about to let Faramir turn into some depressed lump of a person.

“Perhaps you are right,” he admitted after a few moments of quiet contemplation.

“I know I am right,” she insisted fervently. “It’s true that we may all perish in the next few days. Gondor may fall, but these are not written in stone. And even should the worst happen, even if evil should triumph, it can only be for a day. Evil cannot stand forever. That is not the way of the world. Eru would not allow it! Otherwise, what would be the point of all of this,” she asked throwing her arms out to encompass the world. “What would have been the reason of creating Arda in the first place if evil was going to win in the end?”

He smiled at her and shook his head. “You give me hope despite myself,” he stated with wonder. “Perhaps you should speak to my men instead.”

Riley shook her own head in turn. “I’ve quickly realized that, unfortunately, most men of Gondor do not value a woman’s words,” she said with a scoff. “I am sure that you will do a creditable job of it, but feel free to quote me if you like,” she added with a grin.

“I am sure I will, but come. We should give my father the news,” he said as he turned towards the citadel. “I have little time before I must see to my soldiers and preparations for tomorrow.”

Riley followed him back to the citadel and into the throne room where she saw Lord Denethor sitting in slumped, probably depressing, thought. It was the first time she had seen him so close since she had first arrived as she had remained working with people in his court as opposed to him. She supposed, though, that the only way she was going to try to save him was going to be to stick near him if she could during the next few days. She remembered that the movies had portrayed him as a real jerk, and he certainly did have moments of arrogance. But mostly what she saw was an exhausted man trying to hold his kingdom together with nothing more than bits of string. Besides, she didn’t really want Faramir to lose his father if she could help it.

“Faramir,” he said in a slightly cold tone. “Did I not already send you to prepare to ride to Osgiliath tomorrow? Do you deny your lord’s command?”

“No, my lord and father,” Faramir replied with a bow. “I will depart to make my preparations as soon as I am finished here, but I wished to share with you some happy news.”

“Happy news? What is there that could possibly be happy at a time such as this,” his father returned with a deep frown.

“I have found my soul’s match, Father,” Faramir answered with a smile before motioning to Riley.

“My lord,” she greeted him politely as she stepped forward and curtsied deeply.

“You,” he repeated as he looked at her closely. “You are the one that has been speaking to and befriending the nobles of my city, spreading words of encouragement and soothing tempers.”

“Yes, my lord,” she answered honestly. There was no need to hide what she had been doing among the wealthy of the city.

“Well, no noble blood flows through your veins if I remember correctly, but you are a great deal better than your harpy of a friend that continually spurns my eldest. You, at least, have nice manners. You’ll do for Faramir, I suppose,” he finished with a bit of a resigned sigh.

Riley bit back her smile at his description of Alexis. She wondered what he would have thought of her friend had he met her much earlier in her life before she calmed down a bit. The thought was greatly amusing.

“Thank you, Father,” Faramir replied with a smile. “If it pleases you, may I leave Riley in your care when I leave for war tomorrow?”

The lord remained silent for a moment. “Yes,” he finally answered with a sigh. “I will have the halfling look after her in your stead, and they may both attend me while you are away.”

“Thank you again,” Faramir said with another bow before continuing. “I will take my leave then and prepare for battle.”

Riley curtsied to him. “My thanks as well, my lord. I look forward to coming to know you better,” she offered politely before retreating with Faramir.

“That went much better than I had hoped,” Faramir stated with a wide smile as soon as they were through the double doors. “And now, I take my leave of you as well,” he stated before bending down and brushing his lips over the knuckles of her left hand. He rubbed his thumb across the mark that bound them together before straightening. “Farewell.”

“Farewell to you as well, and may Eru safely guide your steps home,” Riley answered with a smile. “I am sure we will see one another soon.”

“I will look forward to it,” he replied with a nod before turning and heading for the stairs that lead to the lower levels of the city.

She stood and watched him go for a moment before heading to the healing house to see if there was anything that she might be able to help with in preparation for the many wounded that would soon occupy the rooms. Her help was greatly welcomed, and she spent the rest of the day rolling bandages and preparing various herbs that she didn’t know.

The following day she stood at the wall and watched the soldiers leave through the gates, heading for Osgiliath to the east. She wasn’t the most religious person around, but she still sent up a silent prayer to Eru that their losses would be minimal and that those that died would do so swiftly, with as little pain as possible.

“You must be Lady Riley,” a voice stated from beside her and startled her out of her own thoughts. She hadn’t heard anyone approach, and she was forced to look down before she saw a hobbit wearing the livery of the Tower Guard.

“I am Riley, yes,” she answered with a smile. “No ‘Lady’ is required, though.”

“Well, Riley, I have been sent by my lord to look after you. I am Peregrin Took, and am newly sworn to Lord Denethor’s service,” the hobbit introduced himself.

Riley couldn’t help but smile at him. “Of course! I have heard all about you, the hobbit prince who promised five thousand hobbit soldiers to the aid of Gondor,” she stated teasingly.

“Is that what they are saying of me,” he asked, clearly astonished. “Well, I can tell you that we have no princes or kings in the Shire. Too much fuss for us. But there may come a day when I inherit the title of Thain. A thain, though, is not a king.”

“You need not worry, Master Peregrin. I have learned what rumors to listen to and which to dismiss,” Riley assured him with a pat to the shoulder.

“Master Peregrin,” he repeated with a shake of his head. “That will never do. If you are not to be Lady Riley, then I am certainly not to be Master Peregrin. You can call me Pippin as most of my own folk do if you like.”

“I would be pleased to do so,” she said before returning her gaze to the plains.

“So, what do you make of all of this,” Pippin asked curiously from her side as he did his best to peer over the wall as well.

“All of what? The battle,” she asked as she turned back to him.

He nodded. “Do you think there is any hope?”

“Of course, there is,” she stated firmly. “I think the next few days are probably going to be horrifying and dreadful in the extreme, but I think good will win the day. I have to,” she said more quietly to herself as she thought of Faramir and the fact that she had just met him. “We just have to trust Frodo and Sam to do what needs to be done.”

“You know about that,” Pippin asked with some alarm.

“Yes,” Riley tried to fix her mild blunder. “I spoke to Gandalf very briefly yesterday evening. Two of my good friends were part of the group that left Rivendell. Oh, I guess you were as well,” she added with a laugh. “I am speaking of Alexis and Ashlan.”

“Ah,” Pippin agreed with a nod. “Fierce ladies those two. Gave Boromir and Aragorn quite a lot of trouble about coming with us.”

“It has been many months since I last saw Alexis and almost four years since I saw Ashlan. How were they when you last saw them,” she asked curiously, hoping that Pippin would oblige her with a detailed account of their journey even if she remembered the highlights from many years ago.

Pippin did not disappoint and happily told her of his journey starting at the very beginning in the Shire. He had not gotten very far in the tale before they were called to attend Lord Denethor for the midday meal.

Riley spent the meal getting to know the current lord of the city and, she supposed, her future father-in-law. It was like pulling teeth to get him to talk about anything, but she eventually managed to learn about his wife and heard a couple of stories of Boromir and Faramir as they were as children. So, she considered the effort well rewarded. The same pattern repeated at dinner that evening.

The following day was very much like the one before it. Pippin found her in the morning and continued his tale until they were called on to attend Lord Denethor at midday and dinner. She did her best to keep a positive attitude as she could see that the Steward of Gondor was weighed down with many dark thoughts.

The next day started very similarly, but when Riley arrived at the midday meal, she was shocked to see how much older and even wearier Lord Denethor appeared. “My lord, are you well,” she asked in concern as she hurried to his side.

“The end is coming,” was all he said in a resigned voice as she poured him a glass of water.

Any reply she would have made was cut off by the entrance of a messenger. “My lord, the Pelennor is overrun! Our men have retreated into the city and barred the gates! My Lord Faramir has been severely wounded in the retreat!”

Lord Denethor stood from his chair and slowly left the room, following the messenger as he left. He said nothing.

Riley hurried after him, ready to help in any way she could. They headed down the stairs to the sixth level of the city. It wasn’t long before she saw a stretcher being carried towards them on which lay Faramir. Screeches sounded above, and she looked up to see the Ringwraiths flying above the city on their fell beasts, and her heart fell.

“My sons are spent,” Lord Denethor muttered. “The city will fall, and the end of all things has come. Let us die now as we choose. Bring him. Let us burn as the heathens once did,” he commanded before turning back around.

“My lord,” Riley said quietly as she stepped in front of him. “Do not do this! Not all is lost. Dark days are upon us, yes, but Minas Tirith is strong. The gates are strong. You have the blood of Númenor in your veins! That same strength and blood flows in both of your sons. They are wounded, yes, and Faramir needs help immediately before he is lost to us. But he is not lost yet! Have faith in that strength! And if you cannot, have faith in me, and I shall have enough faith for both of us,” she stated with every ounce of earnest conviction she could muster under the circumstances. “Do not take him from me, my lord. Do not make me suffer what you have until I must,” she added in an even quieter voice.

Lord Denethor peered into her face for several long moments before sighing. “You are right,” he said as he patted her arm. “I will continue to fight,” he stated with a sigh before adding in an almost inaudible voice, “I am so weary.” He then turned to those now behind him. “Take him to the Healing House. Let them do all they can for him. Send Talvion to me!” He then turned and returned to the citadel, not to the dinner hall but to the throne room.

Riley followed closely behind him, still worried about his mental state. “My lord, is there anything that I may do for you,” she asked with genuine concern.

“No, go to my son. Look after him for me, Riley. I will trust in your belief for now. We must hold until help arrives,” he stated more to himself.

“Of course, my lord,” she said with a curtsy before leaving for the healing house.

She quickly found the room where Faramir was being treated and looked to Ioreth. “Is there anything that I can do?”

The older woman shook her head. “We have done what we can, but nothing seems to be helping,” she admitted sadly looking at the son of her lord.

“Do you have any athelas,” a familiar voice asked from behind her, and she turned to see Emma in the doorway. “I heard that Faramir had been injured and knew I’d find you here,” she answered her friend’s unasked question.

“Yes, we gathered as much as we could find like you asked,” Ioreth answered. “But none of us know what good it will do.”

“Break a few leaves and put them into some hot water and bathe his wounds and brow with the water,” Emma said as she read off from a very old scroll. “It will not heal him, but it will help until better help can arrive.”

Riley turned and pulled the slightly shorter woman into her arms in a tight hug. “Thank you, Emma,” she said simply.

“I didn’t really do much,” Emma replied as she hugged her back. “I just did what I could.”

“That’s all any of us can do,” Riley returned as she stepped away from her friend. She then turned to Ioreth who had brought the bowl with the herbs in it.

“I added a few other herbs that may help,” she stated before beginning to do as Emma had suggested.

“I can do that,” Riley offered as she stepped forward and held out her hand expectantly. “I’m sure you have others to tend to that need your expertise, and there’s nothing else that can be done right now for him.”

Ioreth nodded. “I’ll be back to check on him later.”

“He needs the hands of the king,” Emma said quietly as she joined Riley while she began to do as Emma had suggested.

“Well, Aragorn will be here soon, and we must hold out until then,” Riley replied firmly as she dabbed the cloth across Faramir’s forehead, and he seemed to breathe a bit easier.

“We’ll make it,” Emma agreed before heading for the door. “Reading scrolls now won’t help any further, so I’d best see what I can do around here,” she said as she left.

Riley continued to tend to Faramir until after the dinner hour had passed. She didn’t bother eating anything herself but retired to her room. She needed as much sleep as she could get. The next couple of days were going to be the most difficult of her life.

The following day, the battle began, and they could feel the walls of the healing house shake at times as enemy missiles crashed into the city. Riley did her best to stay calm, but it was difficult when she could hear the battle and the screeches of the Ringwraiths even through the stone.

By mid-morning, Lord Denethor had been brought to the healing house. He had collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Riley went to check on him, but there was nothing she could do. He simply needed rest. So, she went back to tending to Faramir and trying to help the increasing number of injured soldiers.

She did not sleep that night. In the early hours of the next day, a cry was heard that the gate had fallen, and Riley couldn’t help but rush out of the healing house and look out over the battlefield. The fields had been burned. The wall had suffered much damage, but as the sun rose, she heard a horn sound and looked the other way to see thousands of horsemen begin to ride into the enemy.

“Rohan has come,” she yelled joyfully and went back into the healing house to spread the happy news. She then went back to Faramir’s room and went back to bathing his brow. “Aragorn will be here soon,” she said quietly with her hope completely reignited.

Chapter Text

Faramir seemed to be floating in a dark space. He wasn’t sure where he was, but he certainly did not like it. He remembered leaving the city and riding across the fields towards Osgiliath. They had done their best to hold the line and take back the city, but they had been pushed back. Then the next day they had been overwhelmed completely and forced to retreat. He wasn’t sure what happened after that.

Since he was here and not at Minas Tirith, then he could only surmise that he had not made it back to the city. He must have been overcome by the enemy. If that was so, why was he not in the Halls of Mandos? For, this certainly didn’t look like any halls, just empty oppressive darkness.

He sighed to himself as he continued to float in the darkness and thought about the day before he had ridden out. He still couldn’t quite believe that he had met the other half of his soul, the person to whom his fate was tied. Learning that she had been in Minas Tirith for two years had been rather a blow to him and made him regret not being able to visit his home sooner, but war left little room for such feelings.

After he had left her, he had made his way down to the lower levels of the city where his soldiers were waiting for him. He had quickly and efficiently handed out the needed orders and then gone to find Tolvion to plan for the next day. In the process, he questioned his second-in-command about the lady he had just met. “Are you familiar with a Lady Riley,” he had asked as casually as he could.

Tolvion had glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “Lady Riley? Aye, she came about two years ago, came from the courts of the elven king. They say she is some noble kin of the King of Dale or some such. She’s a favorite throughout the city, though, makes friends with all types. Helps where she can. Even saw her polishing armor in the armory once,” he had added with a laugh. “Why do you ask?”

He had shaken his head. “I met her earlier for the first time, and she’s my soul’s match,” he had admitted.

Tolvion had patted his shoulder in understanding. “She’ll be waiting for you, my lord, once we drive the orc scum back.”

He had nodded, and the conversation had ended. Now, though, he was stuck here, and he would likely never see Riley again. He’d known almost nothing about her, but he had been truly looking forward to learning everything about the positive woman he had met.

After some time, he saw a small bit of light appear, and a voice sounded out into the darkness. “Faramir, come forth! Leave the darkness behind. Your people need you, and Riley is waiting. Come forth,” the voice commanded.

Faramir took in a deep breath, smelling something incredibly refreshing. He slowly opened his eyes and saw a man leaning over him. He was tall with dark hair, streaked with gray, gray eyes, and a noble presence. Despite hearing no description of him from Riley, he knew who this must be. “My king,” he breathed out in a soft voice.

Aragorn nodded his head and moved back to give room to the other person. “He should recover well now,” he stated in a low voice before leaving the room.

“Thank you,” Riley called after him with sincerity clear in her voice. She then turned to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Very tired,” he responded as his eyes closed for a long moment.

“Would you like some water,” she asked as she poured him cup.

“Yes,” he croaked, and she helped him sit up for a moment in order to drink half the cup.

Once he was flat once more, she smiled at him. “Rest. I will tell you all you want to know when you awake again.”

He nodded slightly but could not keep his eyes open any longer. He was simply too tired.

When he next opened his eyes, he could tell that it was morning based on the light coming through the window’s curtains. He glanced around the room and saw Riley asleep on a stool next to his bed with her head pillowed on her arms on the mattress. He could see dark circles under her eyes and shook his head slightly. She’d clearly been exhausted to fall asleep the way she had. When was the last time she had slept in her bed?

He shifted slightly, and her eyes immediately opened. She blinked a couple of times before sitting up with a couple of cracks. She rubbed the back of her neck and glanced at the window. “Good morning,” she said with a tired smile.

“Good morning,” he returned in a rough voice.

“How are you feeling,” she asked as she moved to pour him a glass of water.

“Better,” he answered after few moments to really examine his own well being.

“Excellent. Would you like something to eat then,” she questioned as she helped him to sit up and handed him the cup of water.

At the mention of food, his stomach gave an embarrassing gurgle. He wasn’t sure how many days it had been since he’d last eaten. “Please,” he said as she laughed at him.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, and then I can answer all the questions that I’m sure you have. Or I can, at least, try to answer them,” she stated as she stood and stretched, causing her back to pop several times.

He watched her leave his room, wondering if he should have suggested that she go and sleep in her bed instead of worrying about providing him with breakfast, but his empty stomach protested a second time. And he thought she would have argued against it in any case. So, instead, he remained sitting up in his bed and waited for her to return. He wondered how the battle was going. Was it already over? Riley didn’t seem concerned, so that must be a good sign.

Riley returned about half an hour later with a tray set for two. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you for breakfast.”

“No, of course not,” he replied quickly with a shake of his head as she set the tray in his lap before taking one of the bowls of porridge into her own hands and retaking her seat.

“So, do you have specific questions, or would you like me to simply tell you what happened after you were brought back into the city,” Riley asked after they had eaten several bites of their breakfasts.

He thought about that for a moment. Since he was convinced that there was no immediate danger, he thought it best just to hear the events in order. “Please, tell me what occurred after I was injured.”

“I’m not sure exactly what happened when you and your men tried to retreat, but you were injured. I think the Witch-king did something to you. Aragorn called it the Black Breath or something like that,” Riley stated dismissively with a wave of her hand. “I was with Lord Denethor when the messenger arrived to tell him what had happened.”

“What then,” he asked when she paused for a rather long moment. He had a feeling that she was about to say something dreadful.

“Do you know about the seeing stones,” she asked suddenly, and he frowned in confusion at the change of topic.

“Yes, the palantíri,” he replied with a nod. What did that have to do with what had happened in the battle?

“And were you aware that one of them is here in the city and that your father has been using it,” she asked further.

Faramir sighed. “I knew that there was a stone here, yes, and I suspected that my father had been using it in his desperation for information,” he answered with a shake of his head. He did not think such action was wise. There was a reason that their ancestors had ceased using the stones.

“Using the stone has really taken a toll on Lord Denethor,” Riley stated before returning to her story of the events. “When he saw you injured, he lost his senses temporarily. He wanted to burn himself and you on a pyre since we were all going to die anyway.”

Faramir blinked at her a couple of times. His father had wanted to kill him? Had he truly despaired of there being any hope of success? Yet, the fact that he had awoken in the house of healing suggested that they had triumphed.

“I was able to convince him not to,” she continued in a quieter voice. “And he seemed to come back to himself, but he was very weary. I meant to stay with him if I could, but he sent me to care for you instead. So, I spent that night here. The healers were not sure how to help you, but my friend Emma, who is a scribe here, found some ancient scroll that described using kingsfoil to help revive people from similar illnesses. So, that is what we did.”

“Then we owe your friend much,” he stated as he thought of what might have happened had it not been for that information.

“The following day, the enemy besieged the city,” she said as she stood and went to the window for a moment. “We could feel the attacks, even through the walls, and more and more injured were brought in. It was a dreadful day. I don’t think anyone slept that night,” she commented before returning to her seat.

“You should have evacuated with the other women,” Faramir commented with a sigh. “Though I hate to think of what might have happened if you and your friend had.”

“I hoped to be able to help in some way, and I think I have,” Riley admitted with a small smile. “That morning, your father collapsed from exhaustion. He is in a nearby room and still has not recovered, and he is much changed, old before his time, from the mental stress of using the stone.”

“But he will recover,” Faramir asked in concern. He and his father were not close, but he still would rather his father live.

“Aragorn has seen to him,” Riley declared with a sigh. “He will live, but I do not think he will ever be the same.”

“I see. Please, continue,” he said as he leaned his head back against the bed.

“In the early morning hours, the Witch-king broke the gate, but as he entered the city, the Riders of Rohan arrived and drove the enemy back. In the process, King Théoden was killed, and his niece Èowyn slew the Witch-king. It was not going well, as I understand it, but Aragorn arrived with reinforcements, and the enemy was defeated,” she finished with a sigh. “That was yesterday. Aragorn came into the city last night to heal those that suffered as you did, and now I think he’s meeting with the other leaders to make a plan.”

“When you say that the enemy was defeated, do you mean that they retreated to Osgiliath,” Faramir asked as his mind tried to keep up with all the information that he had just received and plan accordingly.

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “I mean they were defeated. If any escaped, they ran back all the way to Mordor.”

“Incredible,” he commented with a shake of his head. “So, Minas Tirith is safe, for now at least. It will only be a matter of time before the Enemy sends another horde for us, and we are already weakened. How many soldiers did we lose?”

“Our losses were great,” she admitted as she looked down at the blanket that currently covered most of him. “But I do not think that we will be attacked again.”

“Why is that,” Faramir asked curiously. As far as he was concerned, Sauron wouldn’t stop until Minas Tirith was no more than pile of rubble.

“I haven’t spoken too much with Aragorn, but I believe he is planning to lead an attack against the Black Gate,” Riley stated with pursed lips. “So, I think Sauron will be too busy to worry about us.”

Faramir stared down at his hands for a moment. “They cannot win such a battle against the might of Suaron, not with the numbers we have. We would need an army the size of the Last Alliance of Men and Elves, and I am afraid that such days will never come again.”

“Well, we don’t really need to defeat him,” Riley commented quietly before lowering her voice even more. “We only need to distract him so that Frodo and Sam can do what they need to do.”

“You know about that,” Faramir cried, shocked that she would know something that was supposed to be so secret.

Riley shrugged slightly. “Ashlan is a good friend of mine, though I hadn’t seen her in a few years. She is Aragorn’s soulmate and came with him to Minas Tirith. Her brother, Adrien, is also a good friend, practically a brother to me at this point, and he came with the Rohirrim and is Lady Èowyn’s soulmate. Between them and Pippin – I'm not sure if you met him before you left – I've heard the entire story of their travels since they left Rivendell.”

Faramir smiled and shook his head. “I see how it is. You have been masquerading as a simple woman when all the time you were friends with royalty.”

Riley grinned. “Not really. They aren’t royalty yet.”

“But they will be,” Faramir stated before his smile fell again. “So, they are going to risk everything to distract Sauron and give Frodo a chance to destroy the Ring.”

“It seems like it is the only option,” Riley stated with a sigh. “I wish I could help them, but it has been too many years since I trained. And there are too many people here for the number of healers. So, I guess we will both have to wait and hope.”

“Indeed,” he agreed before yawning. After so much information, he was suddenly exhausted again.

“Rest. I’ll be back later,” Riley said as she stood and made her way to the door.

Faramir laid back down on the bed as Riley left the room. He hated feeling so weak and knowing that he would not be able to help in the upcoming battle. But once he had regained his strength, he was sure there would be work to do in Minas Tirith, especially with all the others away. With that thought in mind, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

When he awoke next, it was later in the afternoon. He sat up in bed much easier than before and counted it as a victory. Unfortunately, with no Riley in sight and nothing to occupy him, he was left to content himself with his own thoughts.

He wondered if the leaders had finished convening by now. Part of him hoped so since they would need every minute they could get to prepare to march, but another part hoped they had not so that, perhaps, he could join them and offer his support, if nothing else. He also wanted to check on his soldiers. He would have to ask Riley if she could find Tolvion for him. He began to make a mental list of everything that he would need to talk to his second-in-command about.

“That face looks like you are thinking much too hard,” Riley commented as she entered the room with a tray of food in her hands.

“Ah, just the lady I wanted to see,” Faramir declared with a genuine smile.

She lifted a brow at him. “I am guessing that you are rather bored,” she replied as she put the tray down in his lap, which contained a bowl of soup and a thick slice of bread. “I peeked in earlier and saw that you were awake, and I assumed that you would be hungry.”

“A soldier always is,” he declared with a chuckle as he picked up his spoon. “I am surprised that I didn’t see you earlier. You must be quite stealthy.”

“Hardly,” she replied with a shake of her head. “You were just too busy thinking much too hard for someone still recovering to notice.”

“I have little else to do as I recover my strength,” he answered simply with a shrug.

“I’ll bring you a book or two then,” Riley said as she finally took a seat on the stool next to his bed once more.

“You are not eating,” he asked after a moment of silence between them.

She waved him off. “I will eat later. Do not worry.”

“Very well,” he replied with a nod. “Have you any news to share with me then? Have the leaders finished their debate?”

“Yes,” Riley answered with a nod. “I went and spoke to Ashlan an hour or so ago. She and Aragorn will lead a united army to the Black Gate the day after tomorrow.”

“Lady Ashlan goes with him,” Faramir stated with great surprise. He knew that she had travelled with him thus far, but he had assumed that Aragorn would want his soulmate to stay in Minas Tirith during the last desperate venture and said as much.

“Oh, I am sure Aragorn vehemently protested her inclusion, and I am just as sure that she very vehemently told him to take a long walk off the nearby wall,” Riley said with a grin for her friends. “Ashlan and Alexis are both warriors in their own rights and would never sit back and allow their soulmates to go into danger without them.”

“And you,” he asked as he set his spoon aside for a moment and tore a piece off the bread. “Are you a warrior? I believe you mentioned training this morning.”

“I did train alongside them when we all lived in Rivendell for a time,” Riley answered with a nod. “But I have not kept up with my training. Instead, I turned my attention to the game of politics. It’s certainly not my first love, but I think it has served me well in recent days.”

Faramir had to wonder at that but left it alone for now. “Then, may I ask what is your first love,” he questioned with a smile before turning back to his meal. If he was going to be stuck in this bed, he might as well take the opportunity to learn more about his own soulmate.

“Sports,” she answered with a happy grin that made her eyes shine. When he looked at her with some confusion, she elaborated. “Competitions of skill, strength, and speed. Hmm… how to explain,” she muttered to herself for a moment. “I assume you have competitions in swordsmanship, during peaceful times anyway, right? What I’m talking about is similar but different. Usually, it involves two teams trying to get a ball into a hoop or net or specific area. Each team defends their specific area from the other team who tries to get past them.”

“I know what you mean,” he assured her after a moment. “It is only that such games are played by children, but we did have swordsmanship competitions here when I was very young before the Shadow grew again.”

“Well, perhaps we can change that when all this is over,” Riley commented as she stood. “Finish eating. I’ll be back in a few moments.”

Faramir did as she bid and turned his full attention to his meal before his soup grew any colder. Riley was a singular individual. He didn’t know any other lady that was even remotely like her. He didn’t think that was a bad thing, though. He probably needed her lively, positive attitude in his life.

Not long after he had finished his meal, Riley returned carrying three different books. “Here you are. This should keep you entertained while you recover, but be sure to get plenty of rest as well.”

He looked through the books that she handed to him. “Poetry, children’s tales, and elven history,” he asked with a lifted brow. “That’s certainly not what I was expecting.”

Riley shrugged. “I don’t know much about books, but I know Emma. And Emma knows about books, so that’s good enough. She picked these out. The history one is from her own collection. She said that you needed variety, something about if reading the history was too taxing, then you could switch to one of the other books.”

“Please, give her my thanks,” Faramir said with a nod. While it had not been what he was expecting, he was sure he would enjoy the books.

“You can give them to her yourself soon enough. I imagine you’ll be up and about in the next couple of days even if you may not be able to go very far,” Riley stated firmly. She then picked up his tray and moved towards the door.

“Will you not stay a little longer,” Faramir requested impulsively. Although they were very different, he enjoyed talking with her.

She smiled at him but shook her head. “I am afraid that I have other duties to see to for now, but I will try to return after the evening meal is over if you like. In the meantime, I leave you in good company,” she said motioning towards the books before leaving his room.

Faramir watched her go with a frown. He had been hoping to have more of her time today since he was awake, but he understood that she could help others while he regained his strength. He sighed to himself before picking up the history book. At least he wouldn’t be left alone with only his thoughts to occupy him.

Riley kept her word and joined him again later that evening. She looked tired, but she still smiled at him and asked him how the rest of his day had gone. He admitted that he had nodded off after reading a little of the history book, and she had laughed at that. They had had a pleasant conversation together, and she had agreed to find Tolvion and send the man to him in the morning before leaving.

He awoke to a knock on his door the following morning. Riley had delivered even more than she promised, bringing both Tolvion and fresh clothing to him before departing. He spent an hour talking to his second-in-command, who he was happy to see had only sustained minor injuries from the battle. He was devastated to hear of the losses to his men and the damage to the city, but he tried to think as Riley would. They would rebuild. They would help those left behind. They would remember them.

He found his strength improved enough to move about his room a little as long as he was cautious, and he spent a good deal of time at the window, watching the people bustle about their various tasks. He even saw Riley walking swiftly by at one point carrying an armful of dresses down to the lower levels of the city, no doubt for those who had lost their possessions in the fires. His heart warmed at the sight before he returned to his bed and contented himself with the books she had brought.

She came to visit at midday, bringing him his meal as well as news. “Lord Denethor is awake and has asked to see you if you are up to navigating to his room.”

“Yes,” he said after a few moments of silence. He wasn’t sure what his father might want to speak about, but he thought it wise to see him and see how he was recovering. “I believe I will be able to manage it with a bit of assistance.”

“Luckily, he is not too far away,” Riley commented as he turned his attention back to his meal. “Once you are finished eating, I can escort you to his room.”

Faramir nodded and went back to his meal. He soon finished, and Riley moved his tray aside to give him room to maneuver. He swung his legs over the side, but his earlier exploration had tired him more than he thought. And he knew he would need assistance. “If you will hold onto my arms,” he began but left the rest unsaid as Riley immediately helped him to his feet.

“Put your arm across my shoulders,” she said even as she moved him into place and wrapped her right arm around his back. “Now, let us venture forth,” she said dramatically, and they made their slow way to the door.

“Indeed,” he replied with a fond roll of his eyes. “We should perhaps slow down. Otherwise, we’re likely to pass his room.”

“Ah, so there is a sense of humor under all the seriousness,” Riley cried with clear delight. “I am so glad to see it!”

“I am afraid there has been little place for such lightheartedness in recent years,” he commented with a sigh, thinking on all the things that had been suffered.

“I know,” Riley returned, and he saw her smile fall and felt terrible for causing it. “And I do not mean to make light of that, but laughter is one of the best medicines in the world. It brightens our mood and gives us hope that life continues despite all that has gone wrong, that things will get better.”

He thought about that for a moment before nodding. “I suppose you are right.”

A moment later, they stopped outside another door in the hallway. “This is Lord Denethor’s room. Would you like me to come inside with you, or can you make it on your own?”

“I believe I can make it the last few feet unaided,” he answered with a nod. He didn’t want her to be exposed to his father more than necessary before he had a chance to talk to him and determine his state of mind.

“Very well. I will return in half an hour to check on you. If you need any help, pull the bell, and someone will come,” she told him, though he already knew this information. “Before you go inside, however, there is one thing that you should know. Your father is greatly changed, Faramir. Using the seeing stone as often as he did has worn him down. He is old before his time,” she tried to explain and then gave up. “You will see.”

He nodded before stepping carefully away from her and knocking on the door. He opened it after a moment and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He could immediately see what Riley had been trying to tell him. His father’s hair, which even a few days ago had born some dark streaks amongst the silver was now completely silver with streaks of white. His face was haggard and worn, and he seemed diminished. He looked as if he’d aged ten to twenty years in the space of a few days.

“Good afternoon, Father,” he greeted him with a respectful nod as he took a seat in the chair next to the bed. “I am glad to see you awake.”

Lord Denethor turned his head towards him with a frown. “Do not waste my time with empty words born out of duty.”

“They are not empty words, Father,” Faramir replied with a shake of his head. “I am truly glad to see that you are alive and recovering.”

“Recovering,” his father repeated with a scoff. “I shall never recover. These last few days have spent the rest of my strength, which is one of the reasons that I called you to me.”

“Father,” Faramir questioned with a frown.

“I have no strength to lead any longer, Faramir, and I have no desire to serve this Ranger of the North, this Aragorn son of Arathorn,” he practically spat the name. “I will not serve one who would supplant me and displace my firstborn! For generations, our family has served this kingdom, and to be usurped by one who has no training other than leading a ragged bunch of refugees, I cannot bear to see it. So, I relinquish my Stewardship to your brother, to Boromir, but you must do the office until he returns.”

“Father, Aragorn saved us both,” he stated gently as he didn’t want to further upset the man, but he felt it necessary to defend his soon-to-be king.

“Saved? I wish he had let me perish,” he declared with surprising strength in his voice. “At least then I would have been reunited with your mother instead of left a weakling unable to leave his own bed!”

“Father,” Faramir tried to sooth, but he was quickly cut off.

“For saving you, my son, I suppose I do owe him some measure of gratitude,” Denethor said with a sigh. “Especially when I nearly had us both executed in my moment of deepest despair when I thought there was no hope left in this world, but your lady convinced me otherwise.”

Faramir smiled at the thought of his soulmate. “Riley is like a ray of sunshine through a storm.”

“Yes, a rather persistent, annoying ray of sunshine. When she visits, she listens unbothered by my grim and gloomy words and then, in the politest words possible, tells me I am completely and utterly wrong and to stop spouting such nonsense,” he said with a snort before softening. “She reminds me of your mother a little. She never gave heed to my grim manner either.”

The two fell into silence for a few moments before Faramir spoke again. “You said that giving up the Stewardship was one of the reasons that you asked to speak to me.”

“The other is to apologize for what I almost did before your lady prevented it,” Lord Denethor stated, looking even more tired. “She barely even knew you then and still begged me not to take you away from her, to have hope that you would recover and that your brother would return. I am sorry for my moment of weakness that nearly cost you your life.”

“I accept your apology,” Faramir returned with conflicting emotions that he would examine later. “And I will look after the kingdom in your stead until Boromir returns. May I ask where you will go?”

“I will ask Imrahil if he has a quiet space for me where I may spend the end of my days by the sea. Perhaps in the time I have left, I may finally determine what it was about it that your mother loved so much,” his father replied quietly.

“Perhaps the sea air may also help you to recover further strength,” he stated but only received a glare in return. “Is there anything else, Father?”

“No, that is all,” his father replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Faramir stood carefully, nodded to his father in parting, and left the room. He closed the door behind him before leaning his forehead against the wood of it. He truly was glad that his father had lived through the ordeal that was the last few days, and he was grateful that he had acknowledged what had happened and apologized. But a small part of him would have appreciated a different kind of apology even more, an apology for being ignored as the lesser son his entire life. Such thoughts made him feel petty, which he hated. Perhaps, if his mother had lived, he might have been her favorite and have had no need for his father’s attention growing up, but such had not been the case. He sighed. Such thoughts were unproductive and useless at the moment.

“I guess your talk didn’t go very well,” Riley’s voice sounded from a few feet away causing him to turn sharply towards her. He nearly lost his balance, but she quickly righted him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“It is alright. I was simply deep in thought,” Faramir assured her with a shake of his head as he leaned slightly against the wall.

“Would you like some help back to your room,” she asked, and when he nodded, she moved into place to assist him.

They remained silent on the walk back, the mood much more somber than previously. Once they were in his room, he turned towards her. “Thank you again for your help.”

“You will always have it,” she assured him with a smile before looking intently at his face. After a few hesitant moments, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Faramir was surprised for a moment, but he quickly returned the hug and took the comfort that was clearly being offered to him.

“Your worth as a person does not depend upon the opinion of one single individual, Faramir, not even your father, and I understand what it’s like to not have your parent’s support. Neither of my parents supported me in any way. They both felt my life choices were idiotic and naïve, that I would never succeed in life. So, I found support elsewhere, in friends that became my family,” she told him quietly as she continued to hold onto him.

“They were wrong,” he told her firmly. “You are an amazing woman.”

She laughed slightly as she pulled away from him. “My point is that you aren’t alone. You have my support even if you never have your father’s, and you are at least twice as amazing as you think me.”

He stared at her for several moments, wondering how in Arda the Allfather had seen fit to bless him with such a wonderful soulmate. At this distance he could see the various flecks of green in her eyes and thought of the jewelry that he would gift her someday from the royal treasury. Then he realized exactly how close they were still standing and quickly stepped back. Unfortunately, he misjudged his placement in the room and tripped over the stool to land with an oomph on the bed.

“Are you alright,” Riley asked, even as he could see her trying to suppress her grin.

Faramir groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. “Only my dignity is injured.”

He could hear Riley sputtering and peeked out from behind his arm to see her with a hand to her mouth trying to suppress her giggles. She was not doing a very good job of it though. “I’m sorry,” she managed to gasp out even as she giggled at him.

“It’s fine. Feel free to laugh at my graceful performance,” he stated with a shake of his head.

With permission, Riley allowed her laughter to build until she was nearly doubled over in amusement that brought laughter to him as well. When they had calmed again, they spent another few minutes together in conversation before she had to leave once again.

“I guess it’s just you and me,” he stated to the history book before opening it back up to where he had left off.

Riley did not return to him that evening, and he fell asleep early as he read and waited for her arrival. The following morning, he awoke with the dawn to a clamor outside his window. It was a sound he knew well, that of many soldiers leaving the city.

He gathered his strength and left his bed. Feeling much stronger than he had the day before, he ventured forth from his room and out to the courtyard in front of the house of healing. From there, he would be able to see the army going forth to the Black Gate. It seemed that his idea had not been an original one, however, as he found a familiar figure standing and looking out over the plains.

Riley glanced at him as he joined her in a bit of surprise. “I am glad to see you are feeling better,” she said in greeting before turning her attention back to the plains. “They are leaving this morning.”

“Yes, I could hear them from my room,” he replied to her obvious statement.

“How long do you think it will take them to reach the Black Gate,” she asked as she continued to look over the ruined fields.

“Armies move slowly, so probably a week, give or take a day,” he answered after a few moments of thought.

“One more week,” she stated as she drew herself up and seemed to gather her depleted energy. “Then it will be over.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Yes, one more week until the end of this war,” he stated before turning to her fully. “But then, the work of rebuilding can start.”

Riley nodded and turned back to the fields. “The fields will need to be replanted. Luckily, it is still early enough in the year, that we should still be able to get a good harvest from them once they are repaired. There may be a few lean months ahead of us, though.”

“If so, then we will face them together,” Faramir declared as he moved back to her side and wrapped his arm around her once more. She did the same, and together they stood, watching the future of their world unfold.

Chapter Text

Thranduil set aside his glass of wine and ran a hand across his face. He should have already retired. He would go to war in the morning and would need to be at his best. He knew that the evil in Dol Guldur was gradually growing stronger, but earlier in the day, his scouts had reported that the forces of the evil fortress had attacked Lothlórien. Celeborn and his soldiers had won the day, but it was only a matter of time before they came north instead of heading west.

He turned his mind from the inevitable battle that awaited him and to more pleasant thoughts. Besides the evil running rampant nearby, the last three years had been some of the happiest of his life and some of the most confusing as well, and it was all due to his fëamel.

Lamaeneth was a very complex lady. After their first discussion, which ended with her stumbling back to her room after helping him empty two bottles of good Dorwinion, they had entered into a tentative friendship. He had tried to do his best to treat her and her friends with more consideration, and she had tried to keep her hasty temper in check. It had worked relatively well for the most part even if some days he was left rather confused.

She was rather free with her physical affections, much freer than he was used to. From the very beginning she offered him kisses to his cheek, which soon transformed to true kisses. In more recent months, some of these had been so deep and hungry and left him so heated as to feel almost suffocated by the heavy garments he wore for court. He wasn’t complaining at all about her rather aggressive version of courting, but he was confused by it. He often put it and other oddities down to her mortal origins, but she was even different from the few mortals he knew. He had already promised himself that he would ask her to wed him after this war was over. He would not risk her fading from a broken bond.

Things were not perfect between them either. They had already had several arguments, one that had turned into a full-blown shouting match. He had misspoken, and she had misunderstood. It had ended with her screaming obscenities – he assumed that’s what they were anyway – at him in her own tongue before storming out of the room. Once they had both had time to cool off, however, they had managed to talk through the incident.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door, and he looked at it with some surprise, wondering who would be knocking on his door at this late hour. Then, remembering the attack earlier that day, he quickly sprang from his chair and stepped quickly to the door and threw it open only to see the elleth that had been occupying his thoughts. “Lamaeneth,” he questioned with a furrowed brow. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head before shivering slightly. She was clutching her robe closely to herself, and he noticed that her feet were bare.

“You are cold,” he said as he moved out of the doorway. “Come and sit by the fire.”

She nodded and moved towards the fire, but she did not sit down. “I’m glad that you are still awake. I thought that you might have already gone to sleep,” she said quietly as she stared into the fire.

He watched her with a frown for a moment before moving closer to her. He knew her well enough to read the tension in her. “Lamaeneth, what is wrong? Why are you here?”

She whirled around to face him and stared up into his face. “Do you love me, Thranduil,” she asked, only confusing him more.

He placed his hands upon her shoulders. “Of course, I do, meleth-nin,” he returned before moving one hand to her face. “What is this about?”

“I came here tonight to ask you to marry me,” she stated as she gathered herself together.

He blinked at her a couple of times before smiling at her. “I would love nothing more. Had you been just a little more patient, I would have asked you when I returned,” he stated with a grin. “When this war is over,” he began but she shook her head.

“No, you don’t understand. I want you to wed me tonight. Now,” she insisted as she placed one of her hands on his chest.

He shook his head. “My beautiful midnight lady, I cannot. If we are truthful, there is a chance that I will not return from battle, and I would not want you to suffer from a broken bond, especially one so new. I could not stand the thought of you fading,” he tried to explain gently.

“I do not wish to live with regret, Thranduil. Please,” she asked in a quiet voice and placed her other hand on his chest. Her robe slipped open slightly, and he could discern that she was bare underneath.

Thranduil swallowed and leaned down to place his forehead against hers. “I would not deny you anything I could give,” he tried to reason.

“Then don’t,” she interrupted him as she shifted. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss full of love and yearning.

He sighed as they broke the kiss and looked into her eyes to see the hope and sincerity lying there. He ran his fingers along her jaw before taking her hand. He didn’t say anything. There was no need to as he led her from his sitting room and into his bed chamber.

He slept little that night, but he could not regret any of it. He had spent most of the night hours doing his best to memorize every inch of his new wife. He had eventually managed a couple of hours of sleep before the light of dawn began to creep into his room. He carefully crawled from his bed and dressed. He then sat at his desk and wrote out a letter to Lamaeneth, which he placed upon his pillow before kissing her temple and leaving the room.

He donned his armor, which waited for him in the sitting room in the corner. Although some of the fastenings were complex, he was used to managing alone. When he was fully armored, he strapped on his swords and then left his rooms. He made his way out of his halls to where his captains were waiting.

The five captains bowed in unison as he approached. “Nauthrien,” he called to the female captain present. She was the head of his palace guards. “You have your orders?”

“Yes, ar-nin,” she replied instantly. “If the battle goes ill, we are to barricade all entrances and retreat to the escape tunnels and make our way to Lothlórien. We will use our best judgment for when action becomes necessary.”

“Very good,” he nodded his approval before turning to the next in line, the captain of his personal guard, the most elite fighters among his soldiers. “Laerorndir, is the guard ready?”

“Yes, ar-nin,” the ellon answered with a nod. “We will be with you.”

Thranduil nodded and moved onto the next. “Methor?”

“My company is ready to march, ar-nin,” he answered with his hands behind his back.

“Erthon,” he questioned the next in line.

“We are ready to leave, ar-nin,” he replied in turn.

“Naruven,” he asked the last in line.

“All is ready, sire,” he replied with a nod.

“Excellent,” Thranduil said as he looked over his five most trusted soldiers. Would any of them make it out of this alive? Would this be just another Last Alliance? Would he be able to bring back even a third of his soldiers? Would he even make it himself through the coming days? He shook his head of such thoughts which had no place for now. Now was the time for action.

“And you each have a team to fight the fires that will no doubt ensue,” he asked as he began pacing in front of them.

“Yes, ar-nin,” they chorused.

“Very well,” he said as he stopped moving and nodded to them. “Methor, you will be with me in the central position. “Erthon, you will take the eastern flank, and Naruven, you will take the northern flank. You have your orders. Dismissed,” he stated firmly.

The five snapped bows and went to their duties, but before he could move forward, a voice sounded from behind him. “Heading out already, ar-nin?”

He turned to see Gliril standing in the doorway of the palace. “Gliril, what are you doing up and about so early,” he asked with some surprise. He certainly had not expected the lady to see him off.

“I came to wish you a safe journey,” she replied as if it were obvious. “Legolas is not here to do the honors, so I must. I am only surprised that Erica is not here. Though,” she began with a lifted eyebrow as she looked at him more closely, “perhaps I should not be given the look in your eyes.”

Thranduil’s face was stone, but he could feel his cheeks pink ever so slightly, much to his annoyance.

“Is it generally known,” she asked with a tilt of her head.

“No, it is a rather recent development,” he admitted after a few moments.

“Then I hope I am the first to wish you a hearty congratulations,” she said in a soft voice that would carry no further than him. “I am very pleased for the both of you, and I know how happy you make her.”

“Thank you,” he said with sincerity as he took her hand for a moment and squeezed it. “And you may call me by name in private if you like. We will be family soon enough.”

She smiled at him and nodded. “Very well.”

“Look after her,” he asked with a little too much feeling.

“Of course, Thranduil,” she stated with a nod.

He squeezed her hand again before releasing it. “We must head out if we wish to be in position before the attack. Let us trust your memory in this is accurate.”

“May the light of the stars keep you and guide you home safely,” Gliril returned the traditional parting with a deep curtsy.

He turned away from his palace and mounted his current elk. He wouldn’t be able to keep his mount through the battle, but a king rode to war. He didn’t walk. Once he was in place at the head of his soldiers, he gave the signal and they set out, fifteen hundred well-trained elves. How many were they up against though? Three thousand? Five thousand? More? He supposed it didn’t really matter. He knew they were outnumbered. It didn’t matter by how much.

They would have to hit the enemy hard and fast and then retreat while putting out any fires or keeping them contained. As his lady had said a few weeks ago, they needed to work smarter, not harder. This would be a battle of strategy versus numbers.

They travelled as silently as possible that day, and as they made camp that night, he dismissed his elk, telling the noble animal to find safety and shelter where he could. His mount had nuzzled him affectionately before vanishing into the forest.

The next two days passed just as silently, the only sound the quiet footfalls of his soldiers behind him or the whispered words of a hurried report from one of the other companies. At the end of the third day, all three companies were in position. Now all they had to do was wait in hiding for the forces to emerge from the fortress.

At the end of the third day, his scouts reported heightened activity in the fortress, and he knew in his gut that the fight would begin the following day. He sent messages to the other companies to prepare. That night he sent up a silent prayer to Ilúvatar and all the Valar that things would go well the following day so that he could return to his new bride.

The following day, around midday, his scouts reported that orcs were approaching their position in great numbers. He thanked the soldier and sent her back to her duties. He then gave the signal for the archers to get into the trees. He knew there was danger that the trees might be set ablaze, but he hoped that they would be able to retreat fast enough to escape that danger.

He stood at the front of the line with his personal guard. The plan was simple. They would bait the enemy into a trap and then retreat into the trees. It was a risky plan, but if it worked the way he hoped, then they would decimate the enemy’s numbers.

When the enemy finally came in range, he gave a battle cry and led the charge with both of his swords in hand. His guards sliced through the enemy’s rank with trained precision, but it didn’t take too long for them to recover and begin to overwhelm them.

“Retreat,” he called through his ranks. “Retreat,” he repeated several times before turning and fleeing the direction from which they had come. He did his best to keep an eye on those around him, but it was nearly impossible in the heat of battle.

Once they had reached the designated spot he turned again. “Stand,” he cried out to those around him before raising his swords once again, giving the signal to the archers above. “Now!”

A hundred arrows rained down from the trees around them in a deadly rain, and the orcs fell like stones to the ground. They scattered in disarray, and another volley fell amongst them. He smiled grimly at their success, but it fell quickly as he heard a cry from above.

“Spiders! Spiders in the trees,” some yelled, and he looked back towards the fortress to see the trees shaking violently in an all-too-familiar movement.

“Out of the trees,” he commanded immediately. “Fall back to the second position!” He knew that the spiders would have the advantage over them in the trees. “Quickly!”

He turned once again and raced through the trees as swiftly as his feet would carry him alongside his people. Their second position was a large clearing. The sunlight would make it more difficult for the enemy, and the lack of trees would force the spiders to the ground where they could be more easily dealt with.

When he reached the clearing, he was surprised to find Erthon already there. “Erthon, report,” he stated as he joined his captain.

His captain bowed. “We were completely overwhelmed with spiders, ar-nin, but no orcs came our way. Many of my soldiers are poisoned or injured. We retreated here about an hour ago, but the spiders did not follow.”

“They came to our position instead,” he commented thoughtfully. He knew they did not have much time before the enemy was upon them again. “What news of Naruven,” he called out.

A scout appeared almost instantly. “The enemy has not engaged with Naruven’s company, sire,” he reported quickly.

Thranduil nodded and turned back to Erthon. “Have the wounded retreat to the third position. Have the healers treat the most critical injuries before pulling back with the injured. I have a feeling we will be pushed back to their current location.”

“Yes, ar-nin,” the ellon said with a quick bow before jogging off and giving out orders to his own people.

Thranduil then turned to the scout. “Send word to Naruven’s company to close in from the north. It doesn’t seem like the enemy plans to split their forces further. We will need reinforcements shortly.”

“Yes, sire,” he said before running off in the direction of Naruven’s company.

“Methor,” he called, and the captain was by his side in a moment. “How are our losses and injuries?”

“Very minimal, ar-nin,” the captain answered evenly.

“Good,” Thranduil said with a nod. “Send any heavily injured to Erthon. He is organizing them to return to the third position and then further back.”

“Yes, ar-nin,” he said before hurrying off to carry out his orders.

Only a few minutes later, another scout approached. “Sire, the enemy is approaching,” he stated with a quick bow.

Thranduil nodded and dismissed the scout. “Prepare for battle,” he called out before taking a position at the front of the clearing where the fighting would break out first.

A few moments later, the first of the orcs broke through the trees and were startled to find themselves in a well-lit area. Thranduil wasted no time and charged into them. After half an hour of battle, the orcs retreated into the forest.

Thranduil took a moment to catch his breath before looking to his guard captain. “Laerorndir,” he called as he made his way back to the other side of the clearing.

“We are all accounted for, sire, and injuries are minimal,” his guard captain reported without being asked, knowing what he wished to know.

He nodded, still breathing heavier than normal. It had been more than half a century since he’d been in battle, and it was showing in his endurance. Still, orcs and spiders he could handle. “Methor!”

“Only minor injuries, sire,” the other captain told him.

“Well done,” he said before clapping each of them on the shoulder. “Erthon?”

“He personally escorted the injured,” Methor stated before continuing. “I have taken his remaining soldiers into my own company as his second-in-command was severely injured.”

“Very well,” Thranduil replied with a frown.“ Any word from Naruven?”

“He has his soldiers moving towards our position, but there has been activity closer to the western border, so he has called a halt for now,” Methor answered as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration at the situation.

“Send a runner to him. Tell him to hold his current position. I do not want any orcs or spiders to get behind us,” Thranduil stated firmly. There was no way he was going to risk those that were injured, much less the palace.

He dismissed his captains before moving to the side. He had some water and a quick light meal before cleaning his swords. He knew that they were not finished with their work today, but they had much history and had served him well through the years. He would not leave them covered in filthy orc blood longer than he had to.

It was almost an hour before anything further from the enemy was heard. That was one of the worst parts of some battles, the waiting on edge, wondering what the enemy would throw at you next. He was much better in the heat of the fighting. It was much simpler, cutting, hacking, and stabbing the enemy.

“Sire, the enemy has been spotted,” a scout announced a bit breathlessly. “They are attempting to move between our position and Naruven’s.”

“Prepare to move out,” Thranduil immediately called. If they were quick, they would be able to trap the enemy between the two companies.

It didn’t take long before he was running through the trees once again as noiselessly as possible. He silently signaled his captains to get into position. Through the trees, he could just barely see some of Naruven’s soldiers, letting him know that they were in place as well. Perfect.

It didn’t take much longer before he could hear the heavy awkward footsteps of the orcs approaching. Soon, they would be in the exact spot he wanted them in. Once everything was in place, he gave another silent signal, and they fell upon the enemy with swift and deadly precision. Spiders joined the fray shortly after they had engaged, but they still managed to drive the enemy off.

Once the area was clear, Naruven approached him. “Naruven, return to your previous position. Keep an eye on any activity in that area.”

“Yes, sire,” his captain responded before beginning to gather the soldiers from his own company.

“Laerorndir, Methor, gather the wounded and return to the clearing,” he ordered before heading that way himself. It would be a much more defensible position.

Once they had returned, he quickly sent those that had been injured, particularly those that had been poisoned, back to the third position. Erthon had not returned yet, so he hoped that nothing had gone wrong and that they would be able to join the other injured before they retreated further. Then, they were back to waiting.

After half an hour he received word that the orcs had set fire to the western border, but Naruven’s soldiers had already contained the fire and were working on putting it out. While some of them were working on that, the orcs had, of course, attacked but been soundly driven back by the company of elves.

Shortly thereafter, one of his scouts appeared. “Sire, smoke rises to the south! It appears they have set fire to the woods where we first engaged with them.”

Thranduil sighed. “There is nothing that we can do about that for now. Remain alert and report any movement.”

The scout bowed and hurried off.

After the scout had left, the woods grew even more silent than before as they waited for the enemy’s next move. An hour past with no movement, and Thranduil had begun to pace. Why weren’t they attacking? They clearly outnumbered them. He looked up at the sky and realized the time before cursing impressively enough to make Lamaeneth proud.

“Laerorndir! Methor,” he cried, furious with himself for missing something so obvious. “They are waiting for sunset,” he explained as soon as his captains were close enough. “We need to attack them this time, antagonize them into moving early.”

“If we attack them head on, we will be hard pressed to obtain victory even with the advantage of the terrain on our side,” Methor commented as he gripped his hands behind him tightly.

“Agreed,” Thranduil said with a nod before turning to Laerorndir. “Gather the guards. Methor, gather fifty of your swiftest soldiers. We must be quick and stealthy. We will strike hard and fast and retreat before the orcs know what is happening.”

“What of the spiders,” Laerorndir asked with a frown. “Their senses are much better than those of the orcs.”

“We will have to hope to avoid them. If we come across any, we will have to kill them swiftly before they can alert any of their disgusting brethren,” Thranduil answered after a few moments. “This is a risky plan, but if we wait for them to attack at night, our losses will be higher. And I will not risk that.”

“Is there any chance that you will remain here, ar-nin,” Laerorndir asked after a moment with a lifted brow. “I would prefer not to have our monarch embark upon such a risky plan.”

Thranduil looked at his captain. He’d known this elf for millennia, worked together with him under many different circumstances. “Your concerns are heard, captain, and your request is soundly denied.”

Laerorndir smiled grimly and bowed. “Of course, sire.”

“Be ready to depart in fifteen minutes,” he commanded before dismissing the two elves.

The soldiers were ready to depart on time, and then they set off at a run, moving through the trees as silently as the wind. It took half an hour before they came within hearing distance of the orcs’ current position. He carefully examined the area but detected no spiders. He breathed a sigh of relief. That would make this easier.

He signaled his people to get into place before leading the way into the orcs, still moving as silently as possible. After only a few minutes, he and the rest of the elves with him melted back into the gloom of the forest and raced away from the orcs.

“Injuries,” he asked as soon as he had enough breath to speak to his captains.

“None,” Laerorndir responded with a shake of his head.

“Minor,” Methor added after a moment. “Only a few cuts.”

“Gather yourselves. We will attack again as soon as we are ready,” Thranduil ordered. His captains went off and he leaned against the nearest tree to catch his breath.

In half an hour, they raced silently back to where the orcs were still waiting. There was clearly disarray still among the enemy, and he smiled grimly to himself. He examined the area once again for any spiders, and once more, it seemed that luck was with them. He and those with him readied themselves and then struck a second time.

Once again, they fled before the orcs could gather themselves and raced back the way they had come. When they were safely away, they paused to catch their breath. “Report,” he said between breaths.

“Further minimal injuries,” Methor said as he to tried to catch his breath.

“I doubt this will work a third time, though,” Laerorndir commented as he looked back the way they had come.

“Probably not, but we may need to risk it in order to get them to act,” Thranduil returned as he moved his hair out of his face from where it was stuck to his cheek with orc blood. He felt positively disgusting.

“It’s getting close to sunset,” Methor added as they continued to try to figure out what their next step was.

“Sire, the enemy is heading this way in great numbers, and they are being led by one of the Nine,” the scout breathed out as he bent double to try to catch his breath.

“Retreat to the clearing,” Thranduil immediately ordered.

The others nodded, and they all quickly made their way back to where the rest of the soldiers were waiting for them. “Prepare for battle,” Thranduil commanded as soon as he entered the area. “Tell Naruven to bring his company immediately! We will need every able-bodied soldier for the fight ahead!”

The clearing erupted into activity as the soldiers immediately readied themselves to engage with the enemy. He then turned to his captains. “You are to leave the Nazgûl to me if he joins the battle. Do you understand? You are not to engage,” he said sternly, and they all three nodded as Erthon had finally returned from his earlier mission.

When all the preparations had been made that could be, they began to hear the orcs approaching. “Stand fast,” he called to his soldiers. “Remember why we are here, why we are fighting!”

Only minutes later, the first orcs broke into the clearing, but with one of the Nine behind them, they were not bothered by the little sunlight left in the sky as the sun began to set. Thranduil raised one of his swords into the air and led the charge into the enemy ranks. After that, it was only him and the enemy before him.

After half an hour of solid fighting, twilight was upon them, and the Nazgûl entered the fray. The elves near him reared back on instinct but tried to hold their ground. Even the orcs near him drew back, and Naruven had not yet arrived. Their situation seemed rather dire in the moment, but Thranduil would not be daunted, and he gradually made his way towards the leader of this disgusting rabble.

He was vaguely aware that the other fighters were drawing far enough back to allow the two to engage one another. He also noticed in his peripheral vision that spiders had also arrived. He could only hope that Naruven would appear soon. Otherwise, their chances of making it through this battle were rather slim. Still, he clung to the thought of Lamaeneth waiting for him and raised his swords before him.

The wraith lifted a gauntleted hand and drew his sword slowly from its sheath. “Surrender now, elf king,” it hissed at him.

“Why should I,” Thranduil asked casually as he kept his sword raised.

“It will go better for you and your people,” the hooded figure responded.

“Really,” Thranduil asked with a sarcastic edge to his voice. “It would be better for them to be in eternal servitude, forever in thralldom to a dark lord?”

The figure hissed angrily. “It is better than eternal torment if you do not surrender,” he said pointedly.

“I suppose you would know all about that,” Thranduil returned just as pointedly.

The Nazgûl’s voice changed into something a bit sweeter. “I am the second of the Nine. I am to be made ruler over these lands when my master finally triumphs. I can make things easier for you and those you wish to protect.”

Thranduil shook his head. He almost felt pity for the creature in front of him. “Is that what your master told you more than an age ago?”

The Ringwraith hissed angrily and struck swiftly. Thranduil had been anticipating the attack and managed to get his swords up in time to deflect the blow, but the strength and anger behind it was more than he planned for. And he was pushed back. At least he had managed to waste some of his enemy’s time in the hopes that Naruven would soon arrive with reinforcements.

Thranduil was no novice to battle. He easily corrected his stance and stuck back at his foe. The Nazgûl deflected his first sword and then stepped quickly out of the way of his second. Before Thranduil could continue his assault, his enemy lashed out with his own weapon, causing him to have to block with both of his.

The two went back and forth for some time, neither giving way to the other, but the Nazgûl was fresh. This was his first battle today. Thranduil on the other hand had spent most of the afternoon running through the forest and had slain at least thirty orcs and spiders. He had been born at the end of the First Age, the Elder Days when the elves where at the height of their strength. That strength still ran through his veins as well as through his swords, which had been specifically forged to fight against such evil. These two factors were the only things that allowed him to fight against such an enemy for so long.

But Thranduil spent more time in his council chamber than on the training grounds these days, and he could feel himself growing weary from the battle, a battle that he wasn’t sure it was possible to win. Could one of the Nine even be killed by mortal means any longer? His only hope was to hold off his opponent until he retreated due to his own army being decimated.

The two had been fighting one another for at least half an hour when Thranduil’s guard slipped, and he felt a searing pain along his left arm. He grit his teeth and went back to work. He had had worse. He would just have to hope the wound wasn’t poisoned for now.

Unfortunately, not long after that, he lost his left-hand sword. It was a disadvantage, but he could still easily fight with his remaining one in two hands. He wasn’t limited to one style of swordsmanship. So, the battle continued.

Then, his elf ears picked up the arrival of Naruven and his company, and he felt a brief moment of relief. He had already noticed less and less orcs nearby them. With his other captain’s arrival, they had a much better chance of truly routing the enemy. His momentary distraction cost him dearly, however, and he soon found himself lying on the ground unarmed.

As the Nazgûl approached, he sighed. He would soon be in the Halls of Mandos. He had let his people down. He had let Lamaeneth down and disappointed all his own hopes. Perhaps she would last long enough to board a ship to the West. Then she would be waiting for him when he emerged from the Halls. All these thoughts ran through his head as he watched his enemy lift his sword before suddenly bursting into flames.

Thranduil stared for a moment in utter confusion before using the few seconds he was suddenly given to roll away and grab his nearest sword. He was soon on his feet again and ready to continue the battle, but he need not have worried. The Nazgûl and the remaining orcs were fleeing, the former still aflame with an arrow stuck into the back of his hood.

The elf king slumped slightly as he glanced around. His eyes landed on a lone figure near the edge of the woods where the orcs had retreated. It was Methor with a bow nearby, clearly the source of the flaming arrow. Thranduil staggered over to him.

“I thought I told you not to engage,” he said sternly as he began to examine his captain’s wounds, which were severe.

“I’d much rather you be alive to forgive my insolence,” Methor said through gritted teeth. “It was always said that while the Enemy used fire, his greatest servants still feared it.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing that you remembered your history lessons,” Thranduil commented wryly as he signaled another elf to bring him a first aid kit. He would do what he could for the other.

“I am afraid I may be for the Halls, sire,” Methor managed to get out next. “If so, it has been an honor to serve you.”

“Would you stop talking already,” Thranduil snapped at him. “You’re only wasting your energy.”

Methor let out a short, slightly wet laugh. “Since I am already in trouble, can I wish you joy? I hope she makes you happy.”

Thranduil did not reply and instead turned his attention to treating Methor’s wounds. “She does,” he assured him after a few moments.

“Good. Perhaps I can meet my own in the West,” Methor commented before his eyes rolled back in unconsciousness.

The king frowned down at him. “You had best not die, Methor. That is an order. I have no desire to train another captain in your place,” he stated firmly before continuing with his work. He was certainly no expert healer, but he did have some power. And though he was exhausted, he called upon it for the sake of the one before him, using his own energy to speed the process of healing.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent kneeling on the ground next to his captain, but soon, he heard Laerorndir behind him. “Ar-nin, we must make plans for the night.”

Thranduil stood and swayed on his feet slightly. He was so tired. Luckily, Laerorndir stopped him from collapsing with a firm hand on his arm. He shook himself to return his focus to the elf in front of him. “Yes, he agreed before trying to think. “Send some scouts after the enemy. We need to know how far they are retreating and if we can expect another attack before dawn.”

“Already done, sire,” the guard captain returned with a nod. “They also have orders to contain the fires in the south if they can.”

“Good,” Thranduil nodded trying to pull his thoughts together. “Injuries,” he asked after a moment.

“Heavy in those that were here from the beginning. Lighter amongst Naruven’s company,” Laerorndir reported before looking down at the other captain. “Methor is one of the worst.”

“I ordered you all not to engage,” he said with a sigh as he ran a hand down his face.

“Forgive me, ar-nin, but had I been able to reach you before he did, I would have done the same thing,” Laerorndir stated firmly.

“You? No, you would have done worse,” Thranduil replied without thinking. His exhaustion was thinning his inner walls that usually kept him from being quite so honest.

Laerorndir let out a quick surprised laugh before quieting it in a moment. “You are, of course, correct, ar-nin. I would have. Will he live,” he asked, all humor gone.

“If he can make it to the dawn, I will have hope for him. Until then, it is in the hands of the Valar,” Thranduil answered honestly before looking around at the soldiers around him. “What are the chances of the enemy attacking again tonight?”

“Hard to say,” his captain replied thoughtfully after a few moments. “The Nazgûl only retreated with about a hundred or so orcs. No doubt they have reinforcements still in Dol Guldur, but I believe it will be days before they can move again.”

Thranduil nodded, still trying to gather his wits. “Let us gather the wounded and retreat to our third position. Have a runner go further so that healers can meet us there. We will then have to set up an extensive watch.”

“Agreed, sire,” Laerorndir said with a nod of his head before heading off with a slight limp that Thranduil had not noticed before. Even his best soldier had not escaped unscathed it seemed.

It took several hours for all his soldiers to reach the place where the healers were waiting for them. When they had arrived, Thranduil made the needed arrangements before sitting heavily down next to a tree. He hadn’t meant to do so, but he eventually fell asleep.

He had no idea how much time had passed when a voice startled him awake. He had one of his swords half out of its sheath before he realized it was one of the healers. “Ar-nin, I have come to look at your arm,” she indicated the wound he’d almost forgotten about.

He waved at her to continue and held his arm out to her. “Have the others been treated,” he asked as she began to remove the layers to get to the skin beneath.

“Yes, sire,” she answered with a nod. “We treated those with the most serious wounds first and are now seeing to the more minor ones.”

“Methor,” he asked next with a slight hiss as she spread a cleansing ointment on the wound.

“He lives still, ar-nin. We have continued the treatment that you started. It is too early to tell if he will recover or not,” she replied honestly, which he appreciated.

“Thank you,” he said once she was finished, and she moved away only to be replaced with Laerorndir. “I see someone has seen to your leg,” he commented as he saw the bandage on his captain.

“A minor wound. Nothing more, sire,” he stated with a quick bow. “May I,” he asked as he indicated the spot next to Thranduil.”

Thranduil shrugged. “I think after such a night we can dispense with formalities for now.”

Laerorndir sighed in relief as he was able to take his weight off his injured limb. “We received word that there was a second assault upon the Golden Wood yesterday morning. It seems the enemy split their forces between the two kingdoms.”

“A poor decision on their side and certainly one that worked in our favor,” Thranduil commented as he leaned back against the tree. “Have the scouts returned?”

“Yes, sire. The enemy appears to have retreated all the way back to the fortress, and all the fires are currently out,” Laerorndir reported concisely.

“And our losses,” Thranduil asked a bit reluctantly.

“Not all the soldiers are accounted for,” Laerorndir admitted with a shake of his head. “But we’ve lost between two and three hundred.”

The king sighed. Half a company down and the rest of his soldiers were injured in one way or another. “Estimated enemy forces?”

“Probably four thousand orcs and another hundred or so of spiders, almost all are dead,” he said with grim satisfaction. “That’s why Naruven was delayed,” he added. “Spiders attacked while he was on his way to us. I also don’t think they were in league with the enemy, just saw an opportunity and seized it, drawn to the evil and chaos. Why eat an orc, after all, if sweeter meat is available?”

Thranduil nodded. “Good work, Laerorndir. Get some rest. We will see what the dawn brings,” he stated before leaning back into the tree.

When dawn came, Thranduil stood and went to work. He went to check with the healers first. They had lost another handful of soldiers in the night, but Methor was still alive, though still unconscious. Still, it gave him some hope that his idiotic captain might live. He then went to meet with the other captains.

“No movement in the night, sire,” Naruven reported as he had been in charge of the last watch.

“Good. Anything else,” he asked before glancing at those around him.

“One scout reported seeing a great beast leave the fortress and fly to the south,” Erthon stated after a moment. “The scout believes that it was the Ringwraith leaving, but they could not see clearly enough to be sure.”

“If Sauron is calling his best soldiers back to Mordor, then something must be happening in the south,” Thranduil commented as the others nodded. “Without their leader, the orcs are less likely to attack again. They need a greater fear than what they hold for us to drive them to it.”

“Agreed,” his three remaining captains chorused.

“Then let us get the most severely injured to the palace. Those that travel with them can bring back supplies. We must see to our dead. I will not leave them to be devoured by the beasts of the woods,” he said somberly. “We will set a marker in the clearing where most of them fell and do our best to retrieve and bring any others there. Guards will protect the area until they are laid to rest properly.

“Yes, sire,” they all returned with nods.

“Erthon, I will leave you to organize a group to accompany the injured back to the palace. See me before they leave. I will have messages that need to be delivered to those there,” he said before dismissing the first captain.

“Laerorndir, take your guards back to the clearing. They are the least injured group and will be able to cover the immense space better than others,” he instructed his next captain before dismissing him.

“Naruven, have your people rest for now. They have kept good watch through the night and can be spelled by those of Erthon’s company that remain,” he finished before dismissing the final captain. He then went to eat a small breakfast before heading for the healers, helping to prepare patients for travel, constructing litters to carry them, and working on changing bandages.

Three days passed, and the forest remained silent with no activity from the fortress. Thranduil was beginning to think that they were in the clear for now when a runner appeared out of breath. “What news,” he asked as he felt his heart sink slightly.

“Dale has been overrun with Men of the East, sire,” the other answered through gasping breaths. “King Brand and King Dáin have fallen. The Men and Dwarves that escaped have barricaded themselves in the mountain and are besieged.”

Thranduil’s mind whirled for a moment. He was not fond of Dwarves or Men, but they were allies. Still, he had his own borders to protect at the moment. If Easterlings were currently occupying Dale, however, they could turn their attention to the palace, and that he could not have. “Catch your breath and then run ahead. Tell Laerorndir to return here immediately,” he ordered, and the runner snapped a quick bow before scampering off. He then called for a second one. “Head to the palace. Tell Nauthrien to barricade all entrances except the front gate. Reinforcements will be coming.”

The runner bowed before setting off at a quick jog.

A couple of hours later, Laerorndir arrived a bit breathless, and Thranduil gathered his other remaining captain. “Dale is currently being occupied by Easterlings. The Men and Dwarves are besieged inside the mountain. The palace is now vulnerable,” he said as he began pacing in thought.

“What are your orders, sire,” Naruven asked after several moments.

“Laerorndir, gather your soldiers and head for the palace immediately. I have already sent orders to Nauthrien to block all entrances except the main gate. Double the watch after you have arrived. I want to know the second anyone so much as looks in the palace’s direction,” Thranduil stated firmly before sending the guard captain on his way.

“Naruven, arrange for soldiers to take the place of Laerorndir’s soldiers. Erthon should return tomorrow. The two of you will hold our position here and keep an eye on Dol Guldur with the remainder of your companies. I will return to the palace with those of the injured that are too injured to currently battle. I am afraid that means that you will also need to oversee the laying to rest of our kin,” he said with a sigh. “I am sorry to ask it of you.”

His captain shook his head. “It is the nature of war, sire, and no one faults you for wishing to return to protect our queen,” he added with a twitch of his lips.

Thranduil frowned at him but resisted rolling his eyes. “I assume all five of you know?”

“Five of us,” Naruven asked with slightly wider eyes. “I think you underestimate how much soldiers can gossip in between battles. I’m sure the whole kingdom knows by now and are just waiting for the official announcement before offering you their congratulations.”

“I see,” the king returned. He supposed he should not be surprised. “Thank you for the information. You are dismissed.”

Naruven bowed and went to gather his soldiers that would be replacing Laerorndir’s shortly.

A few hours later, Laeorndir’s soldiers departed, and Thranduil wanted to go with them so badly. But he made himself wait. He needed to make sure that everything was in order here, that his people would be given a proper burial, that he had a full list of those that had given their lives in the service of protecting their home.

The next day, Erthon arrived with the supplies that was needed to see to the grim task. After Thranduil had briefed him on his orders, he turned to leave, but the captain stopped him.

“Forgive me, sire, but I have a message for you from Lady Lamaeneth,” he said quickly before taking a deep breath. “The lady wishes you to know that she is overjoyed to hear of your safety. She is beyond angry that you sent her no more than a terse message that you were alive and her most ardent wishes for imminent return,” he stated as he clearly tried to remember the exact words.

Thranduil grinned at him for a moment, elated to hear anything from his bride. “Thank you,” he said with a clap to the shoulder. “Send word if the forces of Dol Guldur bestir themselves again.” He then left the captain and headed for where everything was in readiness with the wounded that would be following him home.

It was a very slow march back to the palace, but after two and a half days, he finally saw the front gates come into view. Nauthrien exited them to meet him halfway. “Report,” he said in a rather tired voice as they gradually made their way back into the palace.

“No sign of movement headed this way, sire. Laerorndir is currently on watch with half our forces,” she answered quickly.

“Methor,” he asked as they began to cross the bridge.

“Surprisingly alive,” she answered with a smile. “Though, the healers say that he may never be able to enter battle again.”

“Perhaps, he could join the council then,” Thranduil mused aloud much to his other captain’s amusement.

“A terrible punishment for a single indiscretion that saved the life of our king,” Nauthrien exclaimed with a shake of her head.

“See that these make it to the infirmary,” Thranduil ordered motioning to the soldiers that he had travelled with, all of whom needed their wounds examined.

“Yes, sire,” she returned with a bow. “I believe that Lady Lamaeneth was last seen near your chambers if you have need of her,” she added before leaving him.

“Have all of my captains grown impertinent in the last week,” he muttered to himself before hurrying down the hall. When he threw open the door to his sitting room, he, indeed, found a waiting Lamaeneth.

“Thranduil,” she cried as she leapt from her chair by the fire and ran to him.

He gathered her to him and kissed her soundly before allowing his head to fall onto her shoulder, the weight of the past several days heavy upon him. She held him tighter to her, seemingly understanding the burden he carried. After a few moments, he shifted so that his forehead rested against hers. “I’m home,” he stated before falling into her arms again.

Chapter Text

Èomer stood at the edge of the camp and watched the sun rise. Today would be the day. Today, they would reach the Black Gate, and today, the fate of Rohan, of Gondor, of all realms, he supposed, would be decided. He had never expected to be part of such an event.

It was true that he was second in line to the throne of Rohan after Théodred, but Théodred would marry soon and have a son. And Èomer would remain nothing more than a marshall, a leader amongst the soldiers, which was right where he wanted to be. Free to ride the plains he loved and not stuck in the halls waiting upon dignitaries from other nations.

He closed his eyes for a moment in grief. He supposed that now he was first in line until Théodred had a son now that his king, his uncle was dead. That was, of course, assuming that Théodred still lived. Who knew what may have happened while he was away, but he had seen his kinsman briefly at Dunharrow. And he seemed to be recovering well. He could only hope that was still the case.

With his cousin so injured, it had been him that had ridden at the king’s side from Dunharrow, calling the riders to remember their oaths, encouraging them to face almost certain death with courage. So, they had raced to Minas Tirith to aid the Gondorians, ever their allies in battle. And he had lost himself to the battle rage completely. Had it not been for Aragorn’s timely assistance, he probably would have been overwhelmed and killed, but the two had managed to get out of their sticky situation and rejoin others.

But it had been Adrien that had discovered his uncle and sister once the battle was over. He had scooped Èowyn into his arms and carried her into the city without waiting for a word from anyone. As soon as he was able, he had joined the other warrior, though he was furious at him. He suspected that Adrien had known about Èowyn’s joining the riders, perhaps even helped her to do so. But he would not start such a conversation while his sister’s life was in the balance.

Then, like the great kings of old that he had heard tale of, Aragorn had appeared and brought her back to them. He had been hard pressed to keep his tears in check until he could find a private moment to thank the powers above for sparing her. He then returned to his sister’s side, where unsurprisingly, Adrien still sat.

He hadn’t spent as much time with the large warrior as his cousin had, but this situation had given him plenty of opportunity to talk to and observe him. He found that he liked the man. He was kind and humorous with a core of honor as strong as the mountains. Most of all, he could see how much he adored Èowyn.

Watching the two, he suddenly understood how Théodred must feel. They were never inappropriate or too openly affectionate, but the looks that they would exchange at times spoke whole conversations of love. He was certainly happy for his sister in finding her other half, but he suddenly wanted that for himself. It was no wonder that Théodred had refused to marry, and he suddenly felt pity for his cousin who now would have little choice.

The day after the battle, he had been called on to participate in a strategic meeting as to what they should now do. He listened as the others mostly debated around him. When Aragorn had suggested going up against the Black Gate itself, he had simply stared at the man. But then it had all come out. They would serve as only a diversion for a much more important quest without knowing where the halfling even was or if he was still alive. Still, he had agreed to lead his remaining riders to almost certain death a second time.

When he had returned to Èowyn’s room, he had shared with her and Adrien the decision. When he had shared his doubts about the halfling, she had shaken her head. “You should not underestimate them. Merry fought the Witch-king alongside me. Without him, I could not have succeeded.”

He had stared at her a moment before going to see the halfling to thank him for his assistance. He’d found a second halfling there with him. After expressing his thanks, he had looked between the two. “Are all halflings mighty warriors?”

“Hobbits,” Pippin had corrected him. “That is what we call ourselves.”

He had nodded.

“As to your question, no, definitely not,” Pippin had answered with a laugh. “We are a peaceful people and have no use for swords and shields in our own land. But we seem to be rather fierce if put to it.”

“Just like Bilbo,” Merry had commented to his friend with a tired smile.

He had then listened to the tale of this Bilbo, and the story had actually put him more at ease. Surely, if Frodo was Bilbo’s kinsman – the hobbits had explained the relation between them, but it was much too complex for him to recall it correctly afterwards – then he had the same determined spirit that Bilbo had had on the quest. He had thanked them for sharing the tale with him and then left them to return to his sister’s side.

Unfortunately, he had caught the sound of voices as he approached. It seemed as if his sister and Adrien were arguing over whether he would be riding to the Black Gate. Leaving the two to their privacy, he had gone to check on his men instead.

He was jostled out of his thoughts as a voice called from behind him. “My lord, we are ready to depart.”

Èomer turned to see Adrien standing several feet away from him as if conjured from his own thoughts. “Have I not told you before that we need no formality between us,” he asked with a half-smile.

“You have,” Adrien agreed with a nod as he clasped his hands behind him. “But such familiarity cannot exist between us until I have been forgiven for the part I played in your sister’s injury.”

He frowned instantly. “I am still angry with you about that,” he admitted, but before he could elaborate, Adrien interrupted.

“Understandably so, but there is no time for discussing such things. Aragorn sent me to fetch you,” the taller man stated before turning and walking away.

Èomer slowly followed behind him. He quickly found his mount amongst the many others. It was not the horse he had ridden to Minas Tirith. He had fallen amongst so many of his brethren. Still, the stallion before him would serve him well. Soon, he was in the saddle, and they were riding to battle, most likely the final battle.

It did not take long to reach the Black Gate. They had set up their camp close to it, but their obvious challenge had, thus far, gone unanswered. So now, they would challenge the Dark Lord openly to come out and face them. He shook his head. They had less than six thousand men against all the hordes of the dark lands before them. But he had reminded himself that this was not the real battle. No, that was taking place elsewhere in the hands of two hobbits.

He had to smile at his friend as Aragorn called for Sauron himself to come forth. The man truly was one of the bravest he had ever known, and he owed him much. He had offered aid to Rohan and saved both him and his sister from death. It was one of the main reasons he had agreed to follow him here.

He paid little attention to the farce of a treaty taking place. They all knew how this was going to end. He initially felt disheartened by the indication that the hobbits had been captured and killed, but he agreed with Aragorn. If Sauron had already retrieved the Ring, he would not have waited a moment before starting to cover the land in his darkness. So, he had hope that the hobbits still lived somewhere and were hopefully close to completing their seemingly insurmountable task.

When all the talking had been completed, they retreated to the rest of their soldiers and watched the gates open wider to reveal an army larger than any he had ever seen, easily ten times that of their own. He took a breath. He would most likely die today, and he was at peace with that for the most part. His only regret was that he had not met his soulmate. He knew not the shape of her smile, the color of her eyes, or the sound of her voice. If she was alive somewhere, he would leave her to forever wonder where he was, not knowing that he had perished.

But such thoughts were not useful, and he quickly shook them off as he listened to Aragorn’s rousing speech. Yes, today they would fight with everything they had for all that they held dear in this world. He gave a mighty battle cry as he led his men after the returned king into battle.

He and his mount Fenulf crashed into the waiting enemies with all the force of a battering ram, scattering and trampling those that did not move fast enough. Fenulf, like any good Rohirric horse was well trained for battle and lashed out with hooves and teeth at anything that came within reach while Èomer cut down enemies from his back.

The battle dragged on, both slow and fast at once. For every enemy he cut down, two more replaced them. Individual fights were determined in seconds, his sword cleaving through inferior armor and bypassing rudimentary training. But the sheer number of enemies would eventually overwhelm them.

A screech above alerted him to the Ringwraiths’ arrival, and he felt his heart plummet into his stomach. There had only been their leader at Minas Tirith, and Èowyn had managed to slay him with help from Merry and a good deal of luck, in his opinion. How were they to fight against the remaining eight at once when they were airborne?

His answer came a few moments later when the cries of giant eagles joined the other battle sounds. It seemed that an unforeseen ally had joined their cause. Now, with their own airborne soldiers, he could fully turn his attention back to the battle around him without concern for being plucked from his saddle.

A few moments later, the last of the enemies around him fell, and he was able to catch his breath for a moment. He scanned the battlefield. From his higher vantage point, he easily spotted Aragorn and Adiren surrounded by enemies. It seemed Sauron was determined to kill the returned king before he could officially take his throne.

He lifted his sword. “Come, Gúthwinë, let us cleave a path to our brothers! If we can do naught else but die beside them, our lives would be well spent,” he declared before steering Fenulf in that direction and charging forward.

He was nearly there, when the terrible shrieks of the Ringwraiths filled the air once more and he caught them flying back to Mordor out of the side of his eye. What could that mean? Was the enemy retreating? It certainly did not seem that way. But then, why would Sauron call back his strongest soldiers? He could not tell, and all that truly mattered was slicing into the next enemy in front of him.

He felt the reins of Fenulf give suddenly, and as the horse reared to strike another enemy, he realized that someone had managed to cut through the straps as well as the reins. He and the entire saddle fell from the horse’s back. Used to falling from horses, he recovered quickly and went back to work while Fenulf retreated the way they had come.

When he finally reached Aragorn, he grinned at him. “It seems that you are the one needing my help this time!”

“Less talking! More fighting,” Adrien commented from the right as he separated an orc’s head from the rest of its body before taking the arm from another.

Èomer agreed, and the three fought side by side gradually thinning the ranks of the enemies around them. But their luck did not last long.

A blow from behind to his head left his ears ringing, and he fell to his knees. His helmet had certainly deflected the worst of the damage, but he was now completely disoriented and vulnerable to another attack. He tried to clear his head and get back to fighting, but his vision wouldn’t focus.

“Èomer” he heard Adrien shout from nearby. Then there was a grunt of pain, and a body fell to the ground. It was only then that he realized that he himself was lying on the ground, which had started to shake. That wasn’t normal, right?

He blinked several times, and his vision started to clear a bit. He sat up slowly as the earth continued to shake like mad beneath him. “Is this another of Sauron’s tricks,” he asked no one in particular.

“No,” Aragorn replied as he stared towards the Black Gate. “Look!”

Èomer turned to stare through the gates. At first, he could not see anything, but then Mount Doom erupted in a spout of flame in the distance. To the east of the mountain, the black tower began to fall. The ground continued to shake, and the gates and the towers before them also fell. “Is it over,” he asked amazed and awed at the possibility that Frodo had succeeded.

“The enemy is retreating,” Aragorn said wearily before he cried out, “Adrien!”

Èomer turned to see his other friend lying on the ground, a pool of blood forming at his side. He tried to stand up, but a wave of dizziness forced him to crawl to the side of his sister’s soulmate, his future brother. “What happened?”

“You were bashed in the head, but before the orc could get a second hit on you, I cut him in two. But the other got a lucky hit on me,” he explained through gritted teeth. “Èowyn said I had to come to protect her hot-headed, foolish brother.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Èomer said with sincerity as he gripped his hand.

“Does this mean you forgive me,” Adrien asked with a groan as Aragorn began to remove his armor to get to the wound easier.

“I do,” Èomer answered firmly as he, too, began to try to help Aragorn.

“Aragorn,” a female voice cried out as a woman limped to them. He thought her name was Ashlan, Aragorn’s soulmate, the only woman at the battle. “What happened to Adrien? Will he be alright?”

“He’s losing blood quickly,” Aragorn stated as he finally managed to get Adrien’s chest plate off. “The wound is deep. He needs a healer, but I will do what I can. Ashlan, help Èomer to the healers and fetch one here if you can. While you are there, get your leg looked at.”

The lady nodded and held her hand out to him. “Come, my lord.”

Èomer gripped her hand and was surprised by the strength in it. Even with an injured leg, she managed to get him on his feet and get his arm around her shoulders before slowly leading them away from his friends. After that, his entire focus was on putting one foot in front of the other and avoiding what obstacles he could.

The next couple of days were rather hazy as he spent his time in a healing tent having his head wound examined repeatedly. After that, the healer cleared him to go, and he quickly found his way to where Adrien was being kept. “Any news,” he asked as he entered to see Ashlan sitting by her brother’s side.

She shook her head. “There has been no change. The healers have done what they can for him. It’s up to him now,” she stated, looking completely exhausted.

“My lady, why do you not rest? You look exhausted, and I can sit with him,” Èomer offered as he moved closer to the bed to examine his friend.

She shook her head. “He and my sister are all the family I have. I want to be here when he wakes up.”

“I understand how you feel, my lady, but your brother would not want you to neglect yourself for his sake,” Èomer said gently.

She stared at him for several moments. “You will soon be his brother, I think,” she stated after a couple of moments. “So, we will soon be family or close enough to it. You might as well drop the ‘my lady’ nonsense.”

Èomer laughed lightly for a moment. “I am afraid you will need to get used to it.”

“So Aragorn tells me,” she responded before standing. “You will send word if he wakes?”

“Of course,” he promised with a nod. She gave him a nod in return and a weak smile before making her way out of the tent.

Èomer instantly took the seat that she had vacated and looked over his pale friend’s face. “You must wake up soon, my friend. I cannot face Èowyn without you when we return, and your sister is wearing herself out with worry. So, come back to us.”

He sat with his friend for the next several hours. A healer came in to check on him, changed the bandages, and left, saying that there was nothing else that they could do for him besides wait and see. When Ashlan returned, she looked much better, and he took it upon himself to fetch them both something to eat.

In the following days, they gradually made their way back towards Minas Tirith, and Aragorn made camp again in the Field of Cormallen. During their first day there, Adrien finally awoke to the great joy of his sister as well as to Èomer. A few days later, Frodo and Sam awoke as well, and he finally thought that the worst truly was behind them.

Aragorn must have agreed for he called for a grand feast to be held in the camp to honor the two that had saved them all. Èomer fully supported the idea. There was nothing a solider of Rohan liked more than a good feast with plenty of ale, but it made him think of those they had left behind. And he pulled Ashlan aside to ask about it.

“Ashlan, do those in Minas Tirith know that we are alive,” he asked as he found her helping with arrangements for their celebration.

She laughed at him. “Of course, they do! Aragorn sent a runner to Minas Tirith almost as soon as the battle was over. I’m sure that they have had any number of victory parties in the city, and now, it’s finally our turn!”

“Aye,” Èomer returned with a laugh. “Let us celebrate our victory and Frodo’s great courage!”

With that said, he turned his attention to assisting where he could, and by the time the sun was setting, all was in preparation. There were many speeches and songs sung and much good ale. Altogether, it was the most pleasant night he could recall in recent memory. And soon, soon enough, he would be home amongst the fields and plains of Rohan.

Chapter Text

At just past thirty-one, Emma could say that she hadn’t changed that much in the last decade. Oh, her life had seen many huge and varied changes. She lived in Middle-Earth now, after all! However, she had not undergone any drastic changes herself. She was still the same height with a rather curvy figure. She still had curly hair, which had now grown out to a length that made braiding it a necessity. She was still rather quiet though more confident that she used to be, perhaps, and she was still without her soulmate.

Over the years, she had seen all of her friends find their other halves, and she was extremely happy for all of them. But it left her feeling very alone in the world and rather frustrated. The green banner with a white horse on it that decorated the back of her hand was rather a dead giveaway that her soulmate was in Rohan, but she was no warrior. Until the war was over, there was no way for her to travel there to search for them. Luckily, she had had Riley with her for company and understanding until several weeks ago.

When Riley and Faramir had found one another, Emma had been happy for them just as she had for her other ten friends. The two, while seeming rather incompatible at first glance, balanced each other well, and Emma got along with Faramir splendidly, spending hours with the acting steward in helping organize things in the city, searching through records to prepare for Aragorn’s coronation, and talking of history. Still, as time passed, Riley and her match spent more and more time together, and Emma saw less of both of them.

She didn’t blame them. Of course, she didn’t. They were forging something new together and needed time to do that, but it simply brought attention to the fact that she was still in Minas Tirith when she should be in Rohan looking for her own soulmate. And time was beginning to weigh on her.

After arriving in Middle-Earth, she had adapted, as they all had, as best as she could, becoming a scribe in the House of Lord Elrond. It was a job that suited her, and she enjoyed it. Even more so, she was good at it, and for once, she hadn’t felt inadequate. But the comfort of Rivendell had been ripped from her with the discovery of that prophecy.

The journey to Minas Tirith had been difficult, especially for her, as she had never been good at hiking or camping in the great outdoors. Riley, however, constantly encouraged her and helped her along the way. After leaving Erica behind in Mirkwood, the two had gradually grown closer. Riley had helped Emma gain confidence in her own strengths, and Emma had helped Riley with the more polite and refined aspects of joining Denethor’s court. By the time that Adrien and Alexis had left, the friendship between them was solid.

Emma had found it strangely easy to make a place for herself in Minas Tirith. Despite being a woman, she had impressed Denethor with her knowledge and been given access to the archives, which had been her goal. She immediately set out to find the scroll of Isildur. She wasn’t sure about when Gandalf would need it or if he had already come and gone, but she wanted it to be ready for him.

So, each day she searched and proved herself to the head of the scribes so that she would be allowed more access to older and older records. Then, she finally found it just in time. Only a couple of days after her discovery, Gandalf had appeared, and she had readily handed him exactly what he wanted. He had been surprised but thankful and had not lingered any longer in the city, heading back to the Shire immediately.

She knew it probably hadn’t changed anything for the better in the grand scheme of things, but she had wanted to do what she could, whatever small part that she might have to play in this story. After that, she had simply gone about her days quietly, copying and organizing records alongside a few selected others.

She kept to herself for the most part. While the other scribes had learned to accept her presence, they still did not approve of a woman in the archives and ignored her existence as much as possible. And outside of the other scribes, she had few interactions with others. Therefore, it was quite a shock when she received her first offer of courtship.

The offer came from a merchant that she often dealt with in the city, one that she barely knew beyond civilities. She had refused the offer in the kindest way she knew how and the two others that had followed. All three had come before her thirtieth birthday, and she now worried that she had perhaps missed her chance to travel to Rohan and find her soulmate. Those of the second born were not like the elves. They would not wait forever.

It was with these heavy thoughts on her mind that she had lived through the siege on the city and seen Riley find her match in Faramir. Then she had watched the soldiers ride off to the Black Gates of Mordor. It was then that she had first met Èowyn.

The Lady of Rohan had joined her at the wall as she watched the soldiers leaving. She looked pale and grave and clutched her arms around herself. “Fear not, my lady,” Emma couldn’t help but say to try to comfort the other woman. “They will return.”

“Not all of them,” the other replied with a sigh.

“True,” Emma admitted with a nod. “But Adrien is strong and an excellent warrior. He will return,” she stated with emphasis, guessing at the woman’s thoughts.

“You know him,” Èowyn asked as she turned to her with some surprise.

Emma couldn’t help the fond smile that spread over her face. “I have known Adrien for many years. He is practically my brother at this point though I was quite taken with him many years ago,” she added with a laugh in an effort to cheer her companion. She had been spending too much time with Riley it seemed. “For, he is a good man, one of the best, and where I come from good, truly, honestly good men were hard to come by.”

Èowyn smiled at her then, a small but honest smile. “He is a good man,” she agreed with a nod before turning back to watch the last of the soldiers leave the city.

“As are those with him, Aragorn and Legolas and, though I have never met him, your own brother,” Emma commented as she, too, watched the horizon.

“Yes, Èomer is a good man, a good leader and soldier and a decent older brother,” Èowyn agreed with a nod.

“They will not fail us for they know that it is not an option.” Emma stated firmly before turning away from the wall. “Come, my lady. I do not think the healers will be happy with you if you remain out here much longer.”

Èowyn sighed but turned. “No, I imagine not, but I am restless.”

“I will keep you company if you like,” Emma offered. With Riley looking after Faramir, there was little for her to do besides generally offer her help and wait.

And wait they did. It was weeks before the soldiers returned, which surprised Emma greatly. She was not quite as knowledgeable as Kaylie in regards to Middle-Earth history, but she did know that the final battle and Sauron’s defeat took place in late March. Indeed, they had all felt the Dark Lord’s fall at the time it occurred, so she was surprised that it had taken so long for the army to return.

Still, they did return, and now she stood on the sidelines and watched as Aragorn was crowned King of Gondor and Arnor. She clapped and cheered along with the rest, but she felt strangely detached from it all. Still she followed the others as they entered the citadel to partake in the celebrations. She waited in a long line to congratulate the new king, but eventually she reached the new king and her friend.

“Congratulations, your majesty,” she greeted him with a smile that he quickly returned.

“It is good to see you again, Emma,” Aragorn replied with a nod. “Such titles have no place among friends.”

She nodded before making space for the person behind her and hugged Ashlan instead. “So, when is the wedding? Has he actually asked you yet?”

Ashlan laughed, and she, for once, sounded much more like her younger self than Emma had heard her recently. “Not in so many words,” she replied with a shrug and a fond glance for the man beside her. “But I find that I don’t need such things. I imagine once everyone is here, then we will marry. I want my family, my entire family here with me.”

Emma nodded and smiled. “Well, if you need any help looking up old traditions, just let me know,” she added with a wink that made Ashlan laugh again before she moved over to where she saw Elladan and Elrohir standing nearby.

The two elves had arrived rather unexpectedly along with Aragorn. Even Emma had forgotten their involvement in the final battle. “Emma,” Elladan greeted her enthusiastically as ever and embraced her.

“How are you my friends, and how are my friends and your sister,” she asked looking from one brother to the other.

“Arwen is as she ever was,” Elladan answered with a merry laugh. “She’s still bullying Alachon every day, but he seems happy to be pushed around.”

Emma couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I am glad that they are well.”

“Lothil is as lovely as always,” he added with a soft smile. “She misses her sisters and her friends, though.”

“I miss her as well,” Emma agreed with a nod.

“Idhrendes is still spending most of her time with Erestor in the records,” Elrohir commented after a moment. “They both miss you greatly.”

Emma smiled a bit sadly and nodded. “I am glad they can keep each other company. I have missed their knowledge and wisdom greatly, especially in dealing with the records here!”

She continued to talk to the brothers for a few more moments before moving on after spotting Legolas and Gimli nearby. “Greetings, Emma,” the prince said with a respectful nod.

“Hello, Legolas,” Emma returned with a polite nod. “How are you?”

“I am well enough,” he answered with a smile before adding with a twinkle in his eye, “but I am guessing you really want to know of Gliril.”

Emma smiled broadly. “I am afraid you have found me out, your highness. I would very much like to know how my friends fair in the Woodland Realm.”

“Gliril was well when I left last summer,” he assured her with a smile. “And my father has his hands full with Lamaeneth, but they seemed happy with one another.”

“I can only imagine,” Emma agreed with a chuckle. “No doubt Gliril has already learned and memorized all the songs of your kingdom.”

“She did spend much time in the music room and with the minstrels,” Legolas stated with a nod.

“Who is this lass, Legolas,” Gimli asked with a raised eyebrow and a mug of ale in hand.

“I am Emma, Master Dwarf,” she replied with a curtsy. “I met Legolas a few years ago when my good friend turned out to be his match.”

“Gimli, son of Glóin, at your service,” the dwarf introduced himself with a bow.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Gimli. I have heard much of you in recent days,” Emma assured him and was highly amused to see the dwarf seem a bit flustered. “And I hope to talk to you more soon,” she said before excusing herself before making her way over to Riley and Faramir.

“Emma,” Riley exclaimed excitedly. “Isn’t this amazing?”

“Yes, it is,” she answered as Riley pulled her in for a crushing hug.

“Lady Emma, it is good to see you,” Faramir stated once Riley had released her.

“Not as good as it is to see you up and about, my lord,” Emma returned with a smile. “I am happy to see you so well recovered, and how is your father?”

Faramir sighed, and she saw Riley take his hand. “He has retired to Dol Amroth.”

Emma nodded. “I hope that he finds peace there then,” she stated with sympathy for the kind man before her.

“Finally,” Riley declared as she dragged Faramir away. “The line has died down. We’ll talk to you later Emma,” she called over her shoulder.

Emma smiled at her friend before spotting Èowyn and Adrien in a quiet corner. “I’m surprised that you aren’t with Ash,” she stated as she joined them.

“I don’t think she has forgiven me yet,” Adrien stated with a small shrug of his shoulders, and Emma took a closer look at him.

“You certainly look worse for the wear,” Emma noted with a frown.

Adrien chuckled. “I’m glad that I can always count on you for honesty, Emma.”

“It was a close call,” Èowyn stated with a hint of leftover fright. “Èomer told me how close you were to death,” she said as she moved closer to him.

“I am fine, Èowyn,” Adrien assured her as he wrapped an arm around her in comfort.

“I told you he was strong and that they would make it,” Emma commented with a grin to try to lighten the mood. There was no point in focusing on all the what-ifs that may have occurred.

“Yes, you did,” the blonde woman agreed with a smile of her own.

“So, what are your plans now,” Emma asked curiously as she looked between the two, wondering how long it would be before the two wed.

“Èomer is leading the remainder of our soldiers back home in a week,” Èowyn told her with an obvious mix of joy and sorrow.

“So, you will be leaving in a week then,” Emma said with a small sigh. Then she thought for a moment. Perhaps, this would be her chance to go to Rohan!

Before she could voice her thoughts, however, Adrien spoke. “I will be remaining for the time being. I can’t miss Ash’s wedding after all, and I doubt she will wait long. I wouldn’t be able to return in time, otherwise.”

“And you,” Emma asked as she turned to Èowyn, hoping for her own sake and Adrien’s that the woman would be remaining in Minas Tirith.

Èowyn sighed. “I am returning with Èomer. I need to check on my cousin and my people. There is much to do to rebuild Rohan.”

Emma nodded. “I will be sad to see you go,” she said with a small smile before the pair were called away by Ashlan.

Emma remained where she was as she looked around the room. She was surrounded by celebrants and cheer and happiness. Yet, she somehow had never felt lonelier than in that moment. Several of her friends were present, but they were all with their soulmates and had other things to deal with now. And while she knew Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas, she did not feel close enough to them to spend the evening in their company. With a sigh, she quietly made her way out of the hall and to the one place where she could always find peace.

The stables were rather quiet when Emma entered. She assumed the various stable hands were off celebrating with the other servants of the citadel. They were much fuller than they had been now that the soldiers had returned, and Emma happily made her way down the lines and greeted all the new horses. One stallion, in particular, caught her eye, and she spent quite a while getting to know him. Once she was feeling more at ease, she quietly made her way back into the hall.

The next week went far too quickly for Emma’s taste, and she sadly made her way to the stables once again, this time with Èowyn by her side. “I shall miss you, my friend,” she stated as they entered the building together.

“And I you, but you will be joining us soon, will you not,” Èowyn asked as she stepped towards the horse she would be riding. The one she had ridden in disguise had been lost in battle, and no Rohirric soldier was about to deny their lady a mount and make her walk.

“That is my plan, yes,” Emma agreed with a smile. “Ashlan and Aragorn plan to wed on Midyear’s Day, and I truly hope to see the rest of my friends then. Afterwards, I want to travel to Rohan with Adrien. I’ve wanted to go there for some time, but the war has prevented it.”

“Yes, I can imagine so,” Èowyn stated with a sly smile. Emma had told her that she suspected her soulmate to be a man of Rohan based on the mark on her hand.

An irritated snort from further in the stables cut off Emma’s reply as she turned to see the stallion that she had befriended during Aragorn’s coronation celebration waiting for her impatiently. “I am coming you needy thing,” she stated with a laugh as she moved to stand in front of the horse. She petted his nose as he began to nose her pockets. “I have spoiled you,” she complained as she pulled a slightly shriveled apple from her pocket for him.

“You didn’t tell me that you already had a suiter,” Èowyn declared with a laugh.

“We met the night of Aragorn’s coronation,” Emma told her as she ran a hand down the horse’s nose again. “He has yet to introduce himself though. I think he likes being mysterious.”

“Allow me to make the introductions then,” Èowyn stated with a grin. “This is Fenulf, and he is my brother’s current mount.”

“And he has proven himself to be a fine one,” a strong voice said from behind them, and Emma turned to see a man with dark golden hair standing there looking rather amused. Despite his darker hair, there was still enough resemblance between them that it was easy for Emma to determine that this was Èomer.

“I am sorry about Firefoot,” Èowyn stated, and Emma was at a bit of a loss for a minute.

Èomer sighed. “He was a good mount, strong and loyal, but,” he continued as he stepped forward to rub Fenulf’s nose as well, “as I have already said, Fenulf has already proved himself a good friend and warrior even if he is now a bit spoiled,” he added with a smile for Emma.

“This is Emma,” Èowyn introduced her. “She is one of Adrien’s friends and has become my own friend in recent days.”

Èomer nodded his head. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Emma blinked several times. She could not speak. She could not think. All she could do was stare at the back of Èomer’s hand, his left hand, which was still rhythmically petting the horse’s nose. On the back was a stylized “E” that had taken the shape of a horse that very much resembled her own mount Starlight who had been left behind when she had come to Middle-Earth. “It’s you,” she finally managed to croak out after the silence had grown slightly awkward.

“Pardon,” Èomer asked in a somewhat concerned voice as he turned to his sister.

“It’s you,” Emma repeated as she traced the “E” on the back of his hand before bringing her own left hand to rest next to his.

“Oh,” the siblings cried in unison.

“Èomer is your match,” Èowyn asked with wide eyes, and Emma nodded. “We’re going to be sisters, and Adrien! Oh, Emma! Adrien will really be your brother!”

Emma couldn’t help but laugh at Èowyn’s enthusiasm, but she was too overwhelmed to say anything as she turned back to Èomer who had taken both of her hands into his own at some point.

“I am leaving today, Emma,” he said, clearly aggravated at the timing of their meeting. “Can you come with us?”

Emma shook her head. “I cannot. I must be here for Aragorn and Ashlan’s wedding. She is like a sister to me, and I have known Aragorn for several years. I was already planning to travel to Rohan with Adrien to look for my soulmate. You,” she said before swallowing, “don’t have someone waiting for you already in Edoras, do you?”

Èomer grinned down at her. “No, I do not. I have always hoped to find you.”

“Then, I will look forward to getting to know you better,” Emma stated with a smile as she squeezed his hands before letting them go. “For now, though, you should take your people home.”

Èomer nodded a bit reluctantly. “Yes, you are right,” he said as she moved back so that he could enter Fenulf’s stall.

Emma was then pulled into Èowyn’s arms in a tight hug. “Oh, I still cannot believe it. This is better than I could have hoped.”

Emma laughed. “I am glad that you are happy, and I will certainly look forward to seeing you both again,” she said firmly.

Èowyn nodded before returning to her own mount to finish her preparations. Within a few moments, the two siblings were mounted and ready to leave the city, joining those that were already waiting on them. Emma stood on the wall as she watched the Rohirrim return to their homeland still mildly reeling from her earlier discovery.

“We will join them soon enough,” Adrien commented from his spot beside her, and she could hear how torn he was from his voice.

“Indeed,” Emma agreed with a nod. “But first, we have to get Aragorn to make an honest woman of Ash!”

Adrien chuckled at that and then led the way off the wall and towards the citadel. “I feel like there is a lot to do in order for that to happen.”

Adrien had been correct, of course. There was a lot that had to be done in order for Aragorn and Ashlan to wed at last, and the next seven weeks were full of those preparations. Emma helped however she could, whether that was looking up the old traditions in dusty scrolls, helping Ashlan pick out dress patterns, or placing flowers into the vases in the hall. But finally, everything was ready for the wedding that would take place the following day.

The afternoon before the wedding, there was a great commotion in the city, and Emma made her way up onto the wall to see what was going on. She was overjoyed to see the faces of her friends in a large crowd that had arrived, which included Lord Elrond and Arwen. She could see Cami, Chris, and Cait walking beside each other, clearly happy to be reunited. Grayson and Adrien were embracing like long lost brothers, and the reunion between Boromir and Faramir brought an actual tear to her eye. She saw Riley and Erica spinning around with one another and laughing like maniacs, and then she finally spotted who she was looking for and took off down the wall.

Emma raced to the back of the group and nearly crashed into the other person. “Kaylie,” she cried as she hugged her friend fiercely. She felt tears running down her face, but she simply couldn’t help it. She had missed the slightly taller elf more than she had imagined or admitted.

Kaylie hugged her back just as tightly. “Emma, I have missed you so much,” her friend said in a somewhat watery voice, and when Emma finally pulled away from her, she could see that Kaylie’s eyes were also full of tears.

Emma laughed wetly. “We’ve turned into watering pots,” she exclaimed as she threw an arm around Kaylie’s shoulders and walked with her into the city. “I’m so glad you all were able to make it for the wedding.”

“Well, I had a good idea of when it would be and how long it would take us to get here,” Kaylie said with a cunning grin.

Emma laughed heartily. “Is that why Ash chose Midyear’s Day all of a sudden? You sent a message for her with Arwen’s brothers?”

“Maybe,” Kaylie replied in a tone which definitely confirmed Emma’s suspicions.

Emma simply laughed again and squeezed her friend close for a moment, enjoying her presence. “We should get everyone together tonight, just us, no soulmates.”

“Speaking of,” Kaylie said in a questioning tone with a raised eyebrow.

“I did find mine,” Emma confirmed with a nod. “I haven’t told anyone else yet, but it’s Èomer.”

“I thought it might be,” Kaylie admitted with a grin. “I hoped it would be, in fact.”

“Oh, why is that,” Emma asked curiously.

“Well, my other guess was Théodred, and I wasn’t sure if he would live through the war, even with Adrien’s interference,” Kaylie admitted. “I didn’t want you to go through that.”

“Well, he did live,” Emma stated with a smile. “And as far as I know, nothing bad happened.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Kaylie returned sincerely. “I hope Adrien is not still mad at me over that. I was just trying to be cautious. There was no guarantee that Saruman would act at the same time if he didn’t think that Rohan was weak enough, and the prince’s death was kind of the final blow.”

“I’m sure Adrien will be too happy to see you to remember old grievances especially now that the war is over and everything worked out for the best,” Emma tried to comfort her.

“I hope you are right, but yes, let us gather everyone together. We should have a family reunion before we send Ash off down the aisle tomorrow,” Kaylie stated with a smile as they continued to make their way up into the city.

It took quite some time to finally get all their friends in one room without their soulmates. Elladan was by far the hardest to shake, but Emma finally slammed the door in his face and locked it behind her telling him firmly that he had all eternity to spend with Cami and could give her up for an evening to her family. When that was done, she made her way around the room, hugging each of her friends tightly.

“Well, you’re awfully huggy tonight,” Grayson laughed at her but hugged her none-the-less.

“Of course, I am,” she returned as she took a place beside Kaylie and made herself comfortable. “This is the first time that we have all been together like this in years! And the first of us is getting married tomorrow,” she stated as she grinned at Ashlan.

“Hardly,” Cait commented with a snort as she glanced at Erica. “Erica and her dear Thran are already married!”

“What,” Riley exclaimed in surprise as she looked at her best friend next to her.

“It’s true,” Erica admitted with a shrug before playfully glaring at Cait who laughed at her. “It was the elven equivalent of a shotgun wedding I guess. It was the night before he went to war, and I just couldn’t let him go without marrying him. I didn’t want to regret that if he died.”

“But you knew he would live,” Kaylie reminded her, a bit puzzled.

“Yes and no,” Erica stated with a shake of her head. “I knew that you had said that he should live through everything, but I didn’t know anything about what was going to happen or if my being there might cause something to happen that didn’t in the original story.”

“I can certainly understand that,” Chris agreed with a nod. “The not knowing if everything would really work out the same way was terrifying. I mean Haldir died in the films. What if he was too much of a minor character for his death to be mentioned in the books?”

“Come now, this is much too dismal talk for a family reunion,” Riley complained loudly before fetching a couple of bottles of wine and a small keg of ale from the corner. She then proceeded to hand out various cups and mugs. “We’re all together again at last! Ash is getting married tomorrow. No more sad talk!”

They all laughed and agreed with that before raising their cups. “To Ash, the soon-to-be Queen of Gondor,” Alexis called before they all drank.

“To Erica, the first of us to wed,” Cami called with a laugh, and they all drank again.

“Speaking of,” Elise spoke up as she looked between Riley and Emma. “Did either of you ever find your soulmates? I know the rest did.”

“I did,” Riley answered with a grin. “It’s Faramir!”

“We’re going to be sisters,” Alexis exclaimed as she tapped her foot against Riley happily since it was the only way she could reach the other woman without getting up.

“We are,” Riley agreed with a nod. “You’re going to be stuck with me, but I think it will be a while before we reach that point. The two of us barely know one another.”

“Same,” Alexis agreed with a nod. “Boromir and I are definitely still working on some things.”

“Well, I hope I can help with some of those things. I plan to form a Women’s Council,” Ashlan declared firmly. “I’ve already told Aragorn, and he agrees that we need to know the thoughts of all of our citizens, not just the men.”

“Good for you,” Erica exclaimed as she toasted her friend.

“What about you, Emma,” Elise went back to her earlier question.

“Actually,” Emma began as she felt her cheeks heat slightly. “I did find my soulmate very recently. It’s Èomer. We realized it the day he left Minas Tirith. So, I’m afraid that Adrien’s stuck with me for life.”

“Congrats,” Riley cried with clear joy. “I’m so happy for you, Em!”

“I’m glad that I’ll have one of my sisters in Rohan with me,” Adrien added with a wink that filled her with great warmth to know that he already saw her as a sibling given all the traveling that they had done together.

“What are we? Chopped liver,” Alexis asked in feigned annoyance.

“Certainly not,” Adrien replied with a shake of his head. “But Emma is by far the sweetest of all my sisters,” he stated with a grin.

There was a general outcry from all the others present that simply led to Adrien laughing, and Emma was happy to see that his health had improved over the weeks that he had been back in Minas Tirith. From there, the evening devolved into the general banter and side conversations that had always occurred within the group until the hour grew late.

“I hope that we’ll be able to do this again soon,” Emma commented feeling warm and fuzzy from the love of her friends and the wine she had been drinking.

“Well,” Elise began before sharing a look with her brother who nodded at her. “I’m not sure that will be possible, to be honest.”

“What do you mean,” Cami asked as she looked between the siblings.

“We didn’t want to bring down the mood,” Grayson began before sighing. “But we did want to tell all of you something important. Elise and I plan to sail to Valinor when Lord Elrond leaves.”

“That’s only in like a couple of years, right,” Emma asked quietly after several moments of utter silence.

Kaylie nodded before answering, “He sails with the other ring bearers in September of 3021 in the original timeline.”

“Please, don’t think that we made this decision lightly,” Elise practically begged as she looked around the room. “Please, don’t be angry with us.”

“Oh, Elise, I don’t think any of us are angry with you,” Riley said after a moment. “We just thought we’d have more time with you. That’s all.”

“We’ll miss you,” Alexis stated as she looked at the two.

“That we will,” Adrien agreed as he looked at them as well. “But you have to do what’s best for you and Glorfindel and what’s best for you and Arwen,” he said as he looked between them. “If that means sailing to Valinor, then you have our full support.”

“And our love and blessings,” Ashlan agreed with a sad smile.

“So, in Minas Tirith comes the end of our Fellowship,” Kaylie improvised the quote from the films.

“Well, if that is to be the case, then let us spend one last night together and have a final slumber party,” Emma said with a sad smile. She refused to cry until her friends left. Until then, she would enjoy the time she had with them.

“I’m afraid we’re out of alcohol. I was only able to nick this,” Riley said with a grin. “It seems some fancy lady is getting married tomorrow,” she said with a scoff that made everyone laugh and turned the atmosphere back towards happiness.

“So, when are you getting married, Adrien,” Ashlan asked her brother to try to keep the good vibe going. “I can’t imagine you’ll be waiting long.”

“As soon as I am back in Rohan and it can be arranged,” Adrien replied with a shrug. “Èowyn and I have seen enough hardships through together and separately to know our own hearts. I see no need to wait longer.”

“Well said,” Grayson congratulated his friend with a smack to the shoulder before shaking his hand. “Still hard as rock.”

Once everyone had stopped laughing, Chris spoke up a bit hesitantly. “Haldir and I aren’t getting married any time soon, but we are officially betrothed now,” she said as she held up her left hand to show the silver band decorating her index finger.

“Congrats again, Chris,” Elise declared, happy for her friend. “Anyone else have fun plans for the immediate future?”

“I have a painting of Thranduil to finish,” Erica offered after a few moments. “He is so beautiful and an absolute joy to paint, but I have yet to get his hair or eyes just right.”

“You need to make your own glitter to mix into the paint,” Cait stated with a nod. “I think that’s the only way you’ll ever get the shininess that you want.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Erica stated thoughtfully.

“It’s so crazy to see you so much in love,” Riley commented to her friend as she shook her head fondly. “I am so thrilled for you.”

“I am planning to head to Rohan,” Emma said after another moment. “I want to learn Rohirric and then tackle their records.”

“If anyone can do it, it will be you,” Kaylie commented with a smile. “I don’t think a day has gone by that Erestor hasn’t mentioned the loss of his favorite scribe.”

“I want to get Legolas to pick the flute back up. He used to play when he was much younger,” Cait commented with a smile.

The others in the room shared various small plans that they had for their future before Ashlan finally broke through. “I’m getting married in the morning,” she said quietly with a shake of her head. “Isn’t that insane?”

They all smiled and congratulated her again before continuing their chatting. As the night wore on, they each dropped to sleep one by one on the various furniture and the floor that the large room they had commandeered had to offer them. Emma couldn’t help but think that it was both extremely similar and different to that night so long ago that had changed all their lives.

Emma was awakened the next morning by a knock on the door, and she cracked an eye open to watch Ashlan answer the door before disappearing with the servant on the other side. It was clearly time for her to begin her preparation. Alexis, disturbed from slumber by her sister’s absence, followed her shortly after.

Emma sighed as she, too, gradually left the room to return to her own quarters. It was heart-wrenching to think that they would never all be together again, but she was sure to see some of them. Plus, she had the promise of a future seeing Adrien regularly, and that was a great comfort. Any negative feelings could be shoved aside for now. Her friend was getting married today, after all!

The wedding took place in the afternoon, and Emma was sure she had never seen Ashlan look more beautiful than when she stood before Gandalf with Aragorn at her side. She looked positively radiant as a bride should. The feast that followed was wonderfully extravagant though Emma couldn’t help but snicker when she overheard a few servants discussing the strange shortage of alcohol.

Emma had assumed that they would all set out within a few days of the wedding, but two and a half weeks passed rather quickly. It seemed everyone was reluctant for a final separation, but when Théodred arrived to retrieve his father’s body, Emma knew that the time had come.

She was on her way to the archives when she passed the new King of Rohan greeting Adrien. “You were late in returning, my friend,” the older man admonished him in a friendly tone. “My cousins insisted that I come and fetch you.”

Adrien chuckled as he clapped the other man on the shoulder. “I am sorry, Théodred. I admit that I have been hesitant to leave despite being eager to see and wed Èowyn.”

“And Èomer tells me that you are to bring his lady to him as well,” the king commented with a smile.

“Yes, my good friend Emma turned out to be his match,” Adrien said as he spotted her passing. “There she is now. Emma, come and meet Théodred!”

Emma changed course and joined the two men. “Your majesty,” she greeted the older of the two with a polite curtsy. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Adrien has spoken highly of you, and I know he values your friendship greatly.”

“Lady Emma,” the king returned with a polite nod. “I have heard much of you from my cousins, especially Èowyn. You are most welcome in Rohan.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” Emma said with another curtsy.

“Come, my friend. I will introduce you to Aragorn and the other nobles still here,” Adrien declared before leading the other away.

Emma watched the two men walk away and sighed. She could feel it in her bones that this was the moment. They would be leaving soon. So, she changed course and went to her quarters to pack up her few belongings. Four days later, she left Minas Tirith.

She was surprised by the large group that she travelled with. In fact, all of her friends were with her except for Alexis and Riley. She had hugged the first tightly before saying good-bye, but her parting from Riley had been much more difficult. She had grown close to the other woman, but Riley reminded her that she was only a few days’ hard ride away and that they would certainly be seeing each other in the future.

Emma had nodded her agreement before setting out with the others. They travelled slowly, so it was a little more than two weeks before they reached Edoras, and Emma was immediately charmed by the city. She had grown up in luxury and lived in both Rivendell and Minas Tirith, which were rather impressive cities in their own rights. But the thatched roofs that spread out below the Golden Hall had their own beauty to them, and she thought that she could certainly be happy with a simpler life.

Three days after their arrival, the funeral for King Théoden was held. It was a somber affair, but afterwards, they celebrated the life that he had lived. Emma had never had the chance to meet the king, but it was obvious in those hours how loved he had been. Still, she also thought that his son would be just as well loved and rule their people well. She would be proud to serve under such a man and could understand the love that Adrien felt for him.

Four days after the funeral, Adrien and Èowyn married. The lady had been making her own preparations while waiting for Adrien to return, so there was little left to do or wait for. After the ceremony, Emma stood with the newlyweds and Èomer as they watched their friends depart. She felt her stomach sink like a rock, and her eyes watered, but a heavy arm landed across her shoulders and she turned to her right to see Adrien smiling down at her in understanding. Then she felt a rough callused hand take her own left hand, and she turned to see Èomer standing beside her. In that moment, even as she grieved for the loss of her friends whom she saw as family, she thought that her future looked rather bright and promising after all.

Chapter Text

Elise and Glorfindel

Glorfindel was as good as his word, and as soon as he could, he taught Elise how to defend herself with a staff, which she, unfortunately, had cause to use as she was caught out in the woods with Cami gathering plants when a small group of orcs attacked. The knowledge had saved her life that day, but she still sobbed in Glorfindel’s arms hours later over the event.

The two often encountered cultural differences, but over the years, they learned to talk through them. There were still times when Elise’s past seemed to swallow her whole, and Glorfindel learned that there was very little he could do for her during these times except give her the space she wanted.

It was because of this that Elise eventually decided to sail west to Valinor with Lord Elrond. The traumas that she had experienced in her life had left her fëa scarred, and she knew that there was no way that she and Glorfindel could be happy as long as they remained in Middle-Earth.

At the beginning of 3019, Galadriel requested aid from Elrond, sensing immediate danger to her realm, and Elrond had answered by sending Glorfindel with some of the other soldiers to help bolster her numbers. Elise had been a nervous wreck the entire time he was gone and had only found comfort with her brother who had remained. When she had met up with him again in Lothlórien on her way to Minas Tirith, she had been overjoyed to see him alive and well and had shared with him her decision to sail.

Glorfindel had agreed heartily with her decision even if he knew it was not an easy one to make. He had been away from his own friends and loved ones in Valinor for thousands of years and admitted to her that he longed to see them again. So, after Ashlan and Aragorn’s wedding, they returned to Rivendell and prepared to sail west with Lord Elrond and many others.

In September of 3021, they boarded a boat in the Gray Havens, said good-bye to the friends that were able to see them off, and sailed away to the west.

After landing on the shores of Valinor, they quickly discovered that Celebrían had taken up residence with Elrond’s mother Elwing in the city of Alqualondë. So, they followed the elf lord there and witnessed his reunion with his wife. However, their stay was short for Elrond had promised to do all that he could for them. So, after only a few days, he led them from the city with his wife by his side and took them to the Gardens of Lórien where they could be healed and refreshed.

They spent a year in the gardens, and Elise was healed there, able to let go of the pain of her past and look towards a bright future with the golden-haired elf by her side. The two were betrothed when they left the gardens and went to Valimar to meet Glorfindel’s parents. They spent their betrothal year there and were married in the second year of the fourth age of Middle-Earth.

When Glorfindel discovered that the city of Gondolin had been rebuilt near the mountains, he took Elise there and took up his former title of Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. There, he reunited with the kinsmen he had longed to see, and Elise was overjoyed to meet Turgon and Ecthelion of whom she had heard so much.

The two remained in the remade Gondolin for the rest of days when they weren’t travelling to visit their loved ones and friends. Glorfindel doted on his beloved wife, and she relished in the love of her husband. They had two children together, both of whom were girls to Elise’s initial consternation. But Glorfindel did not care at all about having no son and spoiled his daughters horribly.

Nestriel was almost a carbon copy of Elise with the same dark hair, dark eyes, and build. She was born to them fifty years after their marriage and was a merry soul who brought joy with her wherever she went. She went to serve in the Gardens of Lórien, where her mother had found healing, and found her soulmate there. The two had one daughter.

Lastriel was born twenty-three years after her sister and resembled her greatly with the same dark hair, dark eyes, and build of her mother. She was taller than her sister and Elise though. She was also a rather merry individual but quieter in her enjoyment of life. She grew to be extremely adept with a needle and became well known as a fine tailor in the city. She found her soulmate in an elf that specialized in weaving. They had two daughters of their own.

~~~~~~~~~~

Grayson and Arwen

After his first real talk with Arwen, Grayson did try to improve. It was a long, hard road, but Arwen was there to support him every step of the way. He made overtures of friendship to Glorfindel, and although they were both wary of the other, over the years they became very good friends. Glorfindel even helped him to learn archery, and as Arwen had predicted, he found the exercise both calming and useful.

There were times when his temper still got the best of him, however, and the only thing he could do was run off his anger. He hated those times most of all for it felt as if he were failing Arwen and himself. It was as if there was a darkness within his being from which he could not escape. It was for this reason that he decided to sail west after talking to Elise, Elrond, and Arwen. Arwen deserved the best version of himself that he could manage, and he would give her nothing less.

So, over the years, he practiced his archery and refused to move forward with Arwen until he felt worthy of her. When Glorfindel left to help his kin in the Golden Wood, Grayson remained to fight off the smaller orcish raiding parties that drew too near the valley. He had become a good archer and relished in his ability to protect Arwen, Elise, and the other innocent people of the valley, but he took no joy in battle.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the war ended and happily travelled with Arwen and the others of the valley to Lothlórien and then on to Minas Tirith. It was amazing to see all of his friends again, and he was astounded to see how much each of them had changed over the years. After the wedding, he had gone back to Rivendell with Arwen to prepare to sail.

In September of 3021, he boarded a boat and left Middle-Earth. Some of their friends had managed to come and see them off, one of which was Adrien. Parting from the man was much harder than Grayson anticipated. Although they had seen little of one another in recent years, still Adrien was like a brother to him, the first person to truly believe in him and helped him through some of the worst times of his life.

Luckily, Arwen and Elise were both there to offer comfort at the parting and turn his attention back towards the future that awaited them. Still, his heart was heavy when they initially landed in Valinor.

He followed Lord Elrond to Alqualondë where he reunited with his wife, and he relished in the joy that seeing her mother again brought to Arwen. Celebrían was lovely just like her mother and daughter. She was motherly and full of love and everything Grayson thought his own mother might have been had circumstances been different. And, for some reason he could not understand, she seemed to adore him on sight. After only a few days in company with her, she seemed to treat him as one of her sons and accompanied them when they left for the Gardens of Lórien.

Grayson spent a year in the gardens with his sister, Arwen, Glorfindel, Elrond, and Celebrían. After a year, he felt like the darkness in his heart was finally gone, but he still hesitated to initiate a betrothal with Arwen. Now that he felt lighter, he wanted to improve more for her, so he waited. Instead he celebrated Elise’s betrothal and happily sent her on her way with Glorfindel, knowing the other elf would care for her in his stead.

He travelled with Elrond and Celebrían back to Alqualondë, but Arwen’s patience was at an end. After reaching the city, she practically jammed a silver band onto the first finger of his left hand and told him that he had best marry her within a year if he didn’t want to regret it for the rest of his days. Grayson had simply laughed before kissing her and promising to do just that.

So, shortly after attending the celebration of his sister’s marriage to Glorfindel, Grayson and Arwen were wed. The two remained in Alqualondë near her parents all their days, and over the years Grayson came to see them as his own parents, especially Lord Elrond to whom he went with all of his parenting questions and concerns. For, when his one and only child, a daughter, was born, he was terrified of becoming a terrible father.

Berendes was born to the couple fifty-two years into their marriage. She sported his silver locks and the gray eyes of both of her parents. She resembled her mother greatly in face and form and was just as bold. She took up archery like her father and travelled all over Valinor to various tournaments. She found her fëamel in a fellow competitor. The two constantly went back and forth on who was the better archer to the amusement of their family members. They had a son and a daughter.

~~~~~~~~~~

Camilla and Elladan

After finding each other, Cami and Elladan were unable to spend much time together. He spent much time away from Rivendell assisting the rangers as he always had while she remained in the valley tending the flowers. When he did return on the rare occasion, they spent what time that they could together.

Their differing personalities brought balance to one another. She was a calming influence upon him while he enlivened her. And, although she initially found him rather overwhelming, no one could more easily bring a smile to her face than Elladan.

Each time that he would visit, they would spend time in the gardens getting to know one another better, and each time he left, she would send him off with well wishes and a smile, knowing how important his mission was to him and his brother.

So, when they Gray Company left Rivendell to join Aragorn in Rohan, all she could do was wish him well and send up a silent prayer that he would return just as he had in the books. So, after the war ended, she was eager to accompany the others to Lothlórien and then on to Minas Tirith.

When they reached the Golden Wood, she was ecstatic to reunite with Cait, Chris, and Erica. She warmly met Haldir and welcomed him into their family, especially after discovering that he had waited on her arrival in order to become betrothed to her sister so that all three could celebrate together. When they left Lothlórien, she was able to meet up with Elladan once again as they travelled through Rohan on their way to Minas Tirith.

They had greeted each other happily with Cami throwing her arms around the mildly startled elf, but admittedly, she had spent most of the rest of the trip in the company of her sisters rather than her soulmate. So, when she discovered that the reason that Elladan had been so hard for Emma to shake during the night of their gathering was due to his wanting to propose, she had been rather surprised. Then she found out that half the reason he’d planned it was because he’d thought it would be amusing to become betrothed on the eve of his adopted brother’s wedding.

She had merely whacked him on the shoulder and told him to behave. He’d managed to wait another week before insisting on asking, and she had allowed him to do so. Despite the fact that they had spent relatively little time together, he made her happy, and she knew that her future lay with him. Plus, it meant that she could celebrate her betrothal with all of her friends present, and that was a definite bonus.

After Ashlan’s wedding, she and Elladan travelled back to Rivendell and helped Lord Elrond and the others prepare to sail. A week before they left the valley, she and Elladan married, much to Elrond’s delight. They then accompanied him and the others to the Gray Havens where they watched them sail away, knowing that they would join them someday. They then returned to Rivendell.

Over the years, Cami and Elladan often travelled to the other kingdoms of Middle-Earth to visit her sisters and friends. They couldn’t be there for every celebration, but they did their best to visit at least one of the other kingdoms once every few years. When she was in Rivendell, she continued to tend to the flowers and assist her husband as she could with the management of those that remained in the city.

When Celeborn joined them in Rivendell, she found an odd companionship with the much older, quiet elf. They often spent time together in the gardens, quietly working side by side. Occasionally, he would share stories of days long past, and she would listen attentively, allowing him to share what he wished as he wished.

As the years past, they began to weigh on her heart more and more with each passing season. While her flowers still bloomed as ever, the valley had lost its magical luster. The water did not shine as it once did. The flowers seemed duller in color and less fragrant, and as she watched her human friends age and then die, she knew that her time in Middle-Earth was coming to an end.

When news of Aragorn’s death reached them in Rivendell, she and Elladan travelled to Minas Tirith to pay their respects to their friend and brother. After leaving the White City, they went back to the valley and prepared to sail. After their preparations were made, they made their way to the Gray Havens and found passage to Valinor on the last ship.

After they landed in Valinor, they travelled to Alqualondë where Elladan was able to reunite with his parents and sister. They stayed for a while before following Celeborn on to Tirion where he found Galadriel to welcome him.

While Elladan was tempted to settle in Alqualondë near his immediate family, he wanted Cami to be able to have a beautiful garden, and the city’s location prevented that. So, instead, he found a small house for them in Tirion that had a large outside area where Cami could grow all the flowers she wished. She had fallen in love with the gardens at the palace in Tirion, and Galadriel’s father who ruled there allowed her free access to visit whenever she wished and to take any cuttings she desired for her own garden. She became well known in the city for her blooms and often provided flowers for celebrations.

A few years after they settled in Tirion, Elladan and Cami finally had their first child. It was unusual for a wedded couple to wait so long to start their family. After all, they had been married for nearly a hundred and twenty-five years, but they had determined that they did not want to have children while still living in Middle-Earth.

As seemed to be tradition in her husband’s family, Cami gave birth to twin sons first. Elhaelon and Eliedir both bore the dark hair and gray eyes of their parents. They looked like their father in face and form though neither were as tall as their father due to Cami’s rather unimpressive height. Both elves took after their mother’s quieter personality. Elhaelon reminded her greatly of her friend Emma and became a scribe who travelled around to record the various stories of Middle-Earth. His brother spent much time with his grandfather studying healing. Elhaelon married a fellow scribe and settled in Tirion with his wife where they had one son. Eliedir married a daughter of the Teleri and settled in Alqualondë where he often treated those that had suffered accidents on the treacherous waters. Together, they had a daughter and twin sons of their own.

Twenty-five years later, Cami gave birth to their daughter. Faelel was also dark headed with the gray eyes of her parents. She resembled her father as well and grew to be almost as tall as him. Like her brothers she was quiet like her mother and could almost always be found working alongside her in the garden. Like her mother, she found her soulmate in a rather painful collision while delivering flowers for a celebration. The elf was extremely apologetic and helped her to the best of his ability. The two eventually recovered from their less than ideal meeting and had one son and two daughters.

For many years, Cami and Elladan thought that their family was complete, but after over forty years, Cami gave birth to their fourth and final child, another son. Faredir resembled his siblings but had the softer features of his mother. He grew to be as tall as Elladan and shared his father’s personality, being a happy elf who was always running wild through the city, much to Cami’s horror. He grew to be a great hunter and often spent time in the forests of Oromë. He married a fellow hunter. The two never set up a permanent home but still managed to have three daughters, the latter two of which were twins.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kaylie and Elrohir

Kaylie and Elrohir rarely spent time together after they discovered they were soulmates. The two were content to pursue their own projects. He was busy fighting orcs, and she was looking for anything that might help them win the war or help her friends.

After the prophecy was found, she concentrated on trying to remember all the exact dates that she could think of for any of the events to come. She wrote everything down that she could think of and gave advice where she could. That became more difficult once her friends were spread out, but she still managed to send a message with Elrohir for Ashlan on when she might want to hold her marriage so that everyone could attend. It had worked out beautifully.

After attending Aragorn and Ashlan’s wedding, Kaylie and Elrohir returned to Rivendell. She turned her attention to the records there and what might become of them, lamenting to Erestor the loss of knowledge if the documents were simply left to rot in the valley. With his help and the help of Emma and Faramir, the records that were deemed worth saving were rehomed to other kingdoms gradually.

She celebrated Cami’s wedding with Elladan and travelled with them and Elrohir to the Gray Havens to see Elrond, Elise, Grayson, and the others off. She was sad to see the Lord of Rivendell leave for she had often talked to him about the pressure she felt lying on her shoulders given the knowledge she possessed. After the ship had sailed beyond her sight, she returned with the others to Rivendell to continue her work there.

Kaylie travelled as often as she could to see her friends, especially Emma, and she made a point to attend her best friend’s wedding when it occurred. She still saw little of Elrohir despite the war being over. While Elladan seemed content to settle in the valley and oversee the people there, Elrohir still travelled with the rangers and Gondorian soldiers, doing what he could to help Aragorn destroy the remaining pockets of darkness. When he was in Rivendell, he spent most of his time with his brother, helping to manage the small settlement.

When Celeborn joined his grandchildren in the valley, she was happy to get a chance to know him better, and she often asked him for stories of the Elder Days, which he gladly shared with her. While she did not grow as close to the older elf as Cami, she still enjoyed his company, even if she was sure he despaired of her and Elrohir ever marrying.

Perhaps, the two never would have gotten there had it not been for the deaths of the mortals whom they loved. Over the years, as Kaylie watched Emma grow old and gray, her heart grew heavier. When her friend finally passed, it was surprisingly Elrohir that offered her comfort. She returned the favor when Aragorn left the world.

After paying their final respects to those that had passed, they made their way to the Gray Havens and boarded the last ship to Valinor. They had little to do on board the ship except talk, so they did. And the two finally came to the conclusion that they should enter a betrothal when they reached Valinor. They had each supported the other in their own ways over the years, and though it wasn’t obvious to the rest of the world, they did care about each other.

So, when they landed in Valinor, they travelled to Alqualondë where they celebrated their betrothal. They remained there for the full year before finally marrying, much to Lord Elrond’s relief as he had been quite convinced the two would never make it that far. After their marriage, they settled in Tirion since Kaylie knew that Elrohir would wish to be near his brother, and she had no preference of her own.

Kaylie and Elrohir had one daughter fifty-six years into their marriage. Teithriel looked very much like her mother with the same golden hair and gray eyes, and she was just as serious as either of her parents. She worked with her mother in the archives of the city, preserving the records of her people. She found her soulmate in a smith dedicated to his craft, and her parents finally understood how Lord Elrond felt for they were convinced their daughter would never wed her soulmate. They did, however, eventually make it to the marriage ceremony, and they surprisingly had one son and three daughters.

~~~~~~~~~~

Adrien and Èowyn

Adrien and Èowyn married in the summer of 3019 of the Third Age in front of most of their friends and relatives. While Adrien’s sister Alexis could not journey for her brother’s wedding, she still sent a gift for the couple and all her best wishes for their happiness.

The couple settled into the Golden Hall for a time, welcomed there happily by Théodred, but Adrien wanted a home of his home. When his friend and king found his soulmate in the daughter of the Prince of Dol Amroth, he insisted on building a home where he and Èowyn could live. It was a modest home, nothing compared to Meduseld, but it was theirs. And they hoped to fill it with plenty of children.

Unfortunately, their wishes and hopes were not answered. Èowyn had trouble conceiving and carrying a child to the end of the pregnancy, and they lost several children to their infinite grief before she was finally able to bear their one and only child, a daughter in their seventh year of marriage.

Throughout these hardships, Adrien and Èowyn found comfort and strength in one another and in their duties. She continued to help and serve the people however she could. He became the captain of Théodred’s personal guards and so was usually kept in Edoras with his king, which was right where he wanted to be. There were occasions when he was sent to help Aragorn, but these were few and far between and usually answered by Èomer instead.

When he was given leave, Adrien and Èowyn often travelled to Minas Tirith to visit his sisters. Rarely did they venture further than that, but he did make a special trip to the Gray Havens to see Grayson off on his way. He wished his friend all health and happiness in the future with Arwen, but it was a heavy parting for Grayson had been like a brother to him. Still, he was able to take comfort in his wife and those that waited for them back in Edoras.

When Èowyn finally gave birth to their daughter she was overjoyed at the successful birth but also terrified. Having lost her parents and her aunt at a young age, she’d had few maternal examples in her life, but Adrien comforted her with a chuckle, explaining that since he had been looking after two younger sisters most of his life he felt rather over qualified in raising a daughter. She took his words to heart, and the two did their best to raise the child in a home of love.

Aldwyn grew up to look very much like her mother though she grew taller than her thanks to her father’s prodigious height. She mirrored her mother in eye and hair color and in face and form. She also shared her mother’s desire for glory and repeatedly begged the king to bring back the ancient shieldmaiden guard that once served the queen. He eventually relented, and she became the first shieldmaiden in several generations. Unfortunately, she never found her soulmate and refused to wed anyone else, having seen how happy her mother and father were with one another. She would settle for nothing less and so fully dedicated herself to her role.

Adrien and Théodred remained the closest of friends and kinsmen all their days. So when Théodred fathered a son, he named him Aldred, the closest name in his own tongue to that of the man that had saved his life. Adrien was beyond honored, and when his friend passed away at the somewhat young age of 71 from a sudden illness, he happily continued to serve his namesake.

The loss of Théodred was quite the blow to Adrien, but he found comfort in his wife and daughter and his other friends who still remained. When his wife died at the age of 83, he was completely devastated. He returned to being the grim version of himself from his younger years without her and quietly pined away in the home he had shared with her. He managed, however, to hold on for another ten years before quietly dying in his sleep just before his one hundred and fourth birthday. Despite not being a native to Rohan, he was greatly honored when he passed away and was buried alongside his wife and cousin.

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Ashlan and Aragorn

After their marriage, Ashlan and Aragorn travelled to Edoras and attended King Théoden’s funeral. They were also able to attend Adrien and Èowyn’s wedding before leaving for Helm’s Deep. After visiting the fortress they went to Isengard where they found that Saruman had been set free by Treebeard. Aragorn reclaimed many of the lost heirlooms of his people from the Tower of Orthanc before bidding farewell to many of his friends and returning with his wife to Minas Tirith.

Aragorn spent the first part of his reign hunting down the remaining pockets of evil, and until she became pregnant with their first child, Ashlan rode with him to battle each time he left. When she could no longer battle beside him, she did what she had said that she would and formed a Women’s Council in Minas Tirith. When Aragorn was present in the city, she sat on his council alongside his other advisors and presented the issues and solutions that her own council had found. While the older councilors initially dismissed her, they soon learned to take her seriously when things she had warned them about came true, and they were left to reap the consequences of their own neglect.

Three years into their marriage, Ashlan finally hung up her sword when she found out she was pregnant. That year she gave birth to her only child, a son that she and Aragorn named Erthon. After the birth of her son and the next king of the Reunited Kingdom, Ashlan fully dedicated herself to motherhood.

Over the years, she grew to love the people of Gondor, and she did whatever she could for them, often toiling side by side with the people when it was needed. Due to her myriad of duties, she could not leave the city often and took comfort in the fact that her sister resided in Minas Tirith as well. When she did leave, she usually visited her brother in Edoras or Riley and Faramir in Ithilien. On the few occasions when she travelled north with Aragorn, she stopped in Rivendell to see her friends that still resided there.

Together with her husband, Ashlan led Gondor and Arnor into a new age of peace and restored an ancient glory to the kingdom that had not been seen since the days of Isildur. She never regretted leaving the battlefield to her husband and others, but she did sometimes miss it. So, she could often be found at the training grounds watching the new soldiers and offering advice to those that were willing to listen. When it came to her attention that there were some younger girls who were interested in joining the soldiers, she created her own personal guard completely of female soldiers, much to the dismay of the older councilors whom she regularly ignored.

Erthon looked very much like his father from the color of his hair to his impressive height, but he was much more out spoken than Aragorn. Like his mother, he had to learn over the years to temper his quick tongue and rash actions. Luckily, he had both of his parents to help him, and he grew into an amazing successor for his father. He eventually found and married his soulmate, a noble woman in Minas Tirith, and Ashlan witnessed the birth of his one and only child, a son, as well as the births of some of her great-grandchildren before the end.

Ashlan lived to see all of her mortal friends and siblings and their soulmates pass away, and while she was troubled and burdened by seeing such, she took comfort in her husband and son and in the knowledge that there was still more she could do for her people. She lived to the great age of one hundred and fifty, blessed with the extended lifespan of her husband’s people. She was mourned greatly by all of Gondor and Arnor for all the good that she had done, especially for the women of her kingdoms.

Aragorn only outlived his wife by three years, greatly missing the partner who had helped him to bear the burdens of kingship. He managed to see his son well established in his role as king before joining his beloved in the Halls of Mandos.

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Christin and Haldir

After the Fellowship left Lothlórien, Christin and Haldir returned to Caras Galadhon for a day to prepare before setting out for the border together. Knowing that Boromir was killed in the original story and that Alexis was going to do anything she could to prevent it, Christin made sure to warn Haldir to look out for them coming up from the south.

Ten days later, word reached her of her friends’ arrival, and part of her wanted to go back to Caras Galadhon to help heal Alexis’s soulmate, but she knew the healers of the city would take good care of Boromir. And she wanted to remain by Haldir. It was a good thing she did, too.

Over the next three weeks, three attacks from the orcs plagued the borders of the Golden Wood. During the final one, Haldir had been hit by a poisoned arrow, and Christin had had to use all the knowledge she had to save him. It had been the most stressful time of her life, but he lived. That’s all that mattered to her in the long run.

When Erica and Cait suddenly showed up with a small escort from Mirkwood, she had been pleasantly surprised and overjoyed to see her sister again. When Cami arrived shortly after, she couldn’t help the tears that had run down her cheeks. She had always hated being a triplet to some extent, constantly mistaken for her sisters, but she had truly missed them with all of her heart. Being reunited with them was like replacing missing pieces of her heart that she hadn’t even known were gone.

It was only after her sisters had arrived that Haldir proposed to her, which she happily accepted. He had wanted to do so earlier, but Galadriel had advised him to wait a little while with one of her soft secret smiles. When Cait and Cami had arrived, he knew that their arrival was what the lady had meant as she held a feast to celebrate for them before they headed to Minas Tirith the following day.

Christin spent most of the trip with her sisters, and while Haldir hovered nearby, he understood that she needed this time with her siblings, having never been away from them for such an extended period of time. So, when they reached Minas Tirith, he had been hoping to spend some time with her himself, only to find himself barred from the room in which she was gathered with her other friends. He had been disappointed, but he certainly had a good deal more decorum than Elladan and made himself useful to his lord while he waited for Christin’s reappearance.

After Aragorn and Ashlan’s wedding, Christin and Haldir followed Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn to Rohan for the funeral of King Théoden. So, they were also present for Adrien and Èowyn’s wedding. After the wedding they followed the rest of the party to Helm’s Deep and then on to Isengard, where they parted from Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, and Ashlan. Instead, they continued their journey north towards Rivendell and followed their leaders back across the mountains to Lothlórien.

A year and a half after their betrothal began, Haldir and Christin married in a lovely autumnal wedding. Both of her sisters and some of her friends managed to attend, and that was more than she had expected. The following year, Lady Galadriel sailed West, and Lord Celeborn relocated to East Lórien. They followed him there, and Christin was ecstatic to be closer to Cait for a time before she followed Legolas to Ithilien.

When Lord Celeborn relocated once again to Rivendell, the couple decided to stay in East Lórien, helping to rejuvenate the forest, protecting the borders, and healing those that were hurt. As the years passed, Christin began to wonder when or if they would ever sail west. It wasn’t something that they had talked about, but after her friends had all passed away and Cait and Cami had left the shores of Middle-Earth, she wondered if she and Erica would be the only ones to remain. But Erica seemed happy with her family while she and Haldir had not had any children yet.

The years began to weigh on her, and each day she longed more and more to reunite with her siblings across the sea. After more than a decade, Haldir had had enough. Despite the fact that he would be leaving his own brothers behind, he could no longer handle his wife’s sadness. So, he packed up their small household and left for the Gray Havens with Christin in tow. There he built a small boat for the two of them, and they left Middle-Earth behind.

After they arrived, they found Cait in the woods to the south with Legolas and Cami in Tirion. Having grown used to having trees above her, Christin and Haldir decided to join Cait in the woods to the south. The area was overseen by Legolas’s grandfather Oropher, and he was happy to welcome them.

Haldir built them a small home in the trees, and they settled down to life together. Christin continued to practice her healing arts, mainly on those who were injured during hunts. Haldir struggled a little, having been a soldier all his life. However, he eventually found a calling in training other elves for martial competitions. He was a ruthless taskmaster according to some, but he trained several champions, so there was something to be said for his methods.

After nearly two centuries of marriage, Christin and Haldir finally started their family. They only had one child, a son they named Aderthedir. He had his father’s golden hair and his mother’s gray eyes. He took after Haldir in face and form, but he was shorter than his father due to Christin’s short stature. He was very much alike to his father in personality and became one of his father’s best trained martial champions when it came to sword fighting. He found his soulmate in the sister of one of his friends who was a musician, and the two of them had a son and a daughter.

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Caitlyn and Legolas

After realizing that they were a matched pair, Caitlyn and Legolas had spent what time they could together, which wasn’t very much. He had patrols to do, and she was no warrior. So, even after two years, the two were only just starting to really learn of each other. Then, Legolas left for Rivendell, and she knew it would be many months if not a year before she saw him again.

In his absence, Caitlyn had done what she could to assist. She used her music to sooth the people, including the king and her friend, and remembered every date that Kaylie had given her regarding the events in the north. So, she was able to warn the king of the impending attack. That spring had been one of the scariest times of her life, and she had spent all the time she could with Erica, each taking comfort from the other.

When the battles were won, she had requested from the king that she and Erica travel over to Lothlórien and then on to Minas Tirith. He had been reluctant to give his consent. The world was still a very dangerous place, but eventually, the two had been allowed to depart with a small escort.

She had been thrilled to be reunited with her sisters and to celebrate the official betrothal between Chris and Haldir. She spent the journey with her siblings, catching up on all that had happened. When they had arrived in Minas Tirith, Legolas had greeted her warmly but had not stopped her from joining the gathering of her siblings and friends. They would have plenty of time to talk together later.

After Aragorn and Ashlan’s wedding, she and Legolas left with many of the others and went to Edoras for King Théoden’s funeral and Adrien and Èowyn’s wedding. The afternoon of the wedding, they set off for Helm’s Deep and then went on to Isengard. There, Legolas invited her to journey with him and Gimli for a time if she wished. Otherwise, he was happy to see her once again in his father’s halls.

Caitlyn had not wished to part from him again so soon. So, she followed the pair as they left Isengard to venture into Fangorn. She found the friendship between her fëamel and the dwarf to be quite amusing, and she smiled to herself often as she listened to their banter. Gradually she grew to know them both better and was happy that she had chosen to accompany them.

After travelling through Fangorn, they made their way gradually north to return to their homelands, only with the promise that they would travel to the caves of Helm’s Deep once more as they had only seen them briefly during their recent stay there. Eventually, the pair made it back to Thranduil’s halls after parting with their dwarven companion, and they remained there for several years, gradually getting to know one another and eventually marrying. Caitlyn had been overjoyed that both of her sisters were able to attend her wedding.

After their marriage, Legolas and Caitlyn took some of the elves and moved south to Ithilien. It was the practical thing to do since Legolas had agreed to help rebuild Minas Tirith. He couldn’t constantly be travelling back and forth between Eryn Lasgalen and the White City. Faramir and Riley welcomed them with open arms.

Caitlyn knew little of gardening or flowers. That had always been Cami’s specialty. So, she allowed Legolas to help design Faramir’s gardens and all the green places of Minas Tirith, only offering her opinion when he asked. Instead, she kept everyone entertained, whether she was playing at a diplomatic dinner at Faramir and Riley’s home, performing at a feast in Minas Tirith, or just playing nearby as the other elves worked on the gardens. Everyone loved to hear Caitlyn’s music.

Over the years, Caitlyn and Riley grew close. It was hard not to when they lived in such close proximity to one another, and she spent many hours with Riley’s children and grandchildren, having no plans to start her own family in Middle-Earth. So, after the deaths of Faramir and Riley both, she was ready to leave the forest behind, saddened as she was by the loss of her dear friends. However, she and Legolas continued in Ithilien until after Aragorn’s passing. Then it was clear that it was time to go.

Legolas, having experience making rafts and other watercrafts to go up and down the river in Mirkwood, found it no great hardship to build a boat that would comfortably hold three. When the boat was built, he travelled alone to the Glittering Caves, where his dwarven friend dwelt and offered to take him across the sea on one last adventure. Gimli agreed with the hope of seeing Lady Galadriel one more time before he passed into the halls of his fathers.

When Legolas returned with Gimli in tow, there was nothing else to detain them, and the three set sail down the Anduin River and out to sea. The journey passed smoothly, and they soon found their way to the shores of Valinor. From there, they made their way to Tirion where Gimli was able to fulfill his wish in gazing upon the Lady Galadriel once again.

After staying in Tirion for a time, Legolas and Caitlyn made their way south to the forest. Legolas had always lived amongst the trees, and both would be most comfortable there. He built them a small home there, and Gimli lived with them, seeing all of their children born and becoming a favorite, though unusual, uncle. Still, dwarves were not meant to linger forever even in Valinor, and after more than a hundred years, Gimli chose to move on to the halls of his fathers. Caitlyn and their children comforted Legolas as best as they could.

Shortly after setting up their home, Caitlyn gave birth to the first of their children, a son. Candir had the golden hair of both of his parents and looked much like his father. He followed his father’s footsteps in archery and became a great hunter among the people of the forest. He found his fëamel in a fellow hunter, and the two had one son.

Twenty-seven years later, they had a daughter. Liririel also resembled her father, with blue eyes and similar, though softened, features. She, unfortunately, was just as short as her mother, however, and took after Caitlyn with her musical talents. She eventually went to the newly establish Gondolin and joined the House of the Harp where she met her match. Together, they had two sons.

Forty-four years after the birth of their daughter, Caitlyn gave birth to a second son. Erynion had his mother’s gray eyes but, otherwise, resembled his father in face, form, and stature. He also took up the bow like his older brother, but instead of hunting, he entered tournaments held around Valinor. He met his soulmate at one of these, a lovely scribe who gave him a daughter and a son.

After fifty-eight more years, Caitlyn had their final child, another daughter. Lassel could have been Erynion’s twin. She looked so much alike her brother, and like him, she also took up archery, entering competitions alongside him, constantly competing to see which one of them was better. She found her soulmate at a competition as well, a sword fighting champion. They had one daughter.

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Erica and Thranduil

Erica never regretted her rather impulsive decision to wed Thranduil the night before he went to war. While they certainly had their share of arguments over the years, they learned to work through them. Erica learned not to assume the worst of him, and he learned not to close himself off to her.

After the war was finally over, Thranduil spent a solid week with his wife with express orders that they were not to be disturbed unless Sauron had returned and was knocking on their front gate. When their belated honeymoon was over, they had a celebration with the rest of the kingdom that lasted two days before Erica and Caitlyn petitioned Thranduil to go to Lothlórien and then on to Minas Tirith, where they could reunite with their family and friends.

Thranduil was very reluctant to allow his wife to go anywhere without him, but he understood just how important the rest of her group were to her. So, after much thought, he agreed to let the two go and sent a number of his personal guards with them.

So, Erica had travelled to Lothlórien and celebrated with the triplets on Chris’s betrothal. Then she had travelled with the large group to Minas Tirith and reunited with her friends. She had found it highly amusing when they had discovered that she was the first of them to marry. It did seem rather unlikely, given her personality, but she was happy.

She saw Ashlan and Aragorn wed and then left with most of her friends to go to Edoras, Helm’s Deep, and then on to Isengard. She parted with Caitlyn there, who preferred to travel with Legolas, and she couldn’t blame her. Instead, she followed Galadriel and Celeborn north and over the mountain to Lothlórien. She did not remain there long and returned to her husband’s hall with her escort almost as soon as could be arranged. She had grown comfortable there, and she missed her husband and her home.

Thranduil welcomed her back with open arms and many sighs of relief, and he could only hope that Legolas and Caitlyn would return to the safety of the woods soon. In the meantime, the two monarchs settled into a routine, seeing to their various duties, or, in Erica’s case, learning them. Despite hating paperwork and having an artist’s soul through and through, she adapted remarkably well, using her creativity to find new and better ways to solve issues that arose in the kingdom.

Over the years, she became close with Christin, especially after Caitlyn moved to Ithilien, and unlike many of her friends, she saw no reason to wait to have children other than her own selfishness to have her husband to herself. She knew that Thranduil had no intention of sailing west, and she wasn’t going to force him to go if he didn’t want to, though she did hope that he would change his mind in time. So, after several decades of marriage, she and her husband began their family.

To everyone’s collective amusement, even Thranduil’s, Erica gave birth to three daughters. Their eldest, Lossendes, was born during the first snow of winter and looked very much like Erica, though she had Thranduil’s lighter blue eyes. She was an artist like her mother, though her medium was not paint. She was extremely gifted in weaving, sewing, and other needle works. She made many lovely tapestries that hung throughout the palace. She found her soulmate while still a child in the son of one of the soldiers of the realm. The two grew up together, married young, and had one daughter themselves.

Galasdes was born thirty-one years later in the middle of planting season. She was also dark-haired like her sister with her father’s lighter blue eyes. However, she was much taller than her sister and had her father’s more angular features as well as his personality. She was very reserved and hard to get to know. She spoke to only those she trusted, and she did not trust easily. She trained under her father when she showed an interest and talent for swordplay and became a captain in her own right.

Laegiel was born twenty-five years later during the middle of the summer solstice celebration, and she was a female version of her father in everything except personality. She had the creative streak of her mother and turned it towards music. Doing so reminded her mother greatly of her friend who had long sailed west, and she wished for Caitlyn’s presence so that her daughter could share her gift.

As time wore on, the remaining elves of Middle-Earth eventually all relocated to Thranduil’s realm, the last stronghold of the elves. But peace did not last forever. War came again with the Easterlings, and Erica had to watch her husband and daughter ride out to battle, not knowing if she would ever see either of them again.

While both of her loved ones returned, many did not. The enemy had outnumbered them greatly, and the loss of life was staggering. Galasdes had been severely injured and had barely survived her wounds. Even Thranduil had come back with new scars. Seeing the devastation to her people, the weariness of her husband, and the longing in her younger two children for their soulmates, Erica knew it was time to take action.

It had been more than five hundred years since Aragorn’s death by that point, and Erica herself was ready to see her friends again and paint new scenes and people. She suggested to her husband that they sail west. It was the only way their younger children would ever meet their soulmates, and he could finally be reunited with his adopted son. Tired of the wars of Men that had taken so much from him, Thranduil agreed and announced his intentions to the few remaining of their people, inviting those that wished to go to sail with him and his family.

Three quarters of their remaining people decided to go with the ruling family. The rest were content to remain under the trees and fade away into nothing more than stories told by Men to their children. With that settled, those that were leaving travelled to the ruins that remained of the Gray Havens. There they managed to build three large boats to hold them all. Thankfully, there were those among them that knew something of crafting boats as Thranduil only had the vaguest notions of creating rafts, and Erica had no knowledge of watercraft at all.

Once the boats were built, they sailed for Valinor, arriving after a long journey and happily reuniting with those that they had missed. Erica and Thranduil quickly settled into the forest where his father ruled, and he was just as happy to welcome them as Thranduil was to set aside his royal mantle and live as any other elf for the first time in his life.

The two lived quite happily in their small home, finally seeing their younger daughters find and wed their soulmates as they had always hoped. Galasdes found hers, surprisingly, in a quiet scribe that she managed to bump into while journeying to a tournament. Many thought them a bit of an odd couple, but they seemed very much in love with one another and happy. They had a boy and a girl in later years.

Laegiel found her match in the rebuilt Gondolin in a fellow musician who had waited even more years to meet her than she had to meet him. The two of them had three daughters, much to everyone’s continued amusement.

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Alexis and Boromir

Alexis never told anyone, but she nearly killed herself with sheer exhaustion trying to get Boromir back to Lothlórien, and she was forever grateful to Chris that the elves were on the watch for them. Otherwise, they never would have made it. At first, she was in a bed in the healing house right next to him trying to recover her strength and energy, but after a few days of solid rest, she was up and about again.

She did not leave her soulmate to his own devices, however, knowing how generally uncomfortable he was around the elves. Instead, they spent many hours talking when he was awake. When he wasn’t, she found her way to the training grounds. Eventually, she offered her services to Haldir to help defend the wood and fought alongside them as they repulsed the orcs.

During their time in the Golden Wood, Boromir and Alexis came to understand one another better, and since she had saved his life, he learned to accept that she was just as good a soldier as he was and that she had every right to fight to defend herself and those she loved. Meanwhile, she learned that his attitude towards women stemmed from his mother teaching him to treat girls delicately when he was a child after accidentally hurting one of the noble’s daughters. After she died, he had clung too tightly to that memory and allowed it to shape his outlook of all women.

After the war was finally over, Boromir was deemed well enough to travel again, and he was eager to return to his home. The others convinced him to wait, though, as they knew that Lord Elrond and a large party would be arriving in Lothlórien soon and would be heading to Minas Tirith afterwards. So, the two waited, celebrated Chris’s betrothal, and then left the Golden Wood behind.

Boromir was thrilled to return to his home and even more so to be reunited with his brother. He had been rather terrified that he would be the only surviving member of his family by the time he arrived, so when he saw Faramir approaching, he embraced his brother tightly and shed a tear or two, though he would never admit it. After learning of what had occurred in his absence, he promised himself to visit his father, simultaneously saddened by his remaining parent’s decline and angry with what his father had nearly done.

With Faramir’s help, he took over the stewardship’s duties, and in Aragorn and Alexis’s absence after their marriage, he and Alexis worked on further organizing repairs with Faramir and Riley’s assistance. Despite being on better terms with his soulmate since their stay in Lothlórien, Boromir knew he still had some wooing to do. So, after Aragorn’s return, he set about his task.

It took another solid year, but he did eventually convince Alexis to marry him. They two were married in Gondor, and although his father was absent and so were many of their friends, his brother and her siblings were present. And that’s what mattered most to them.

After their marriage and Riley and Faramir’s departure for Ithilien, the two really began to turn their attention fully to helping Minas Tirith recover and ruling the city whenever Aragorn and Ashlan were absent. Alexis was, of course, invited to her sister’s council, and the siblings argued there almost as much as they agreed on what changes should be made.

Boromir never recovered his full strength. While he could certainly still wield a sword in battle, if needed, his attacks never had the same amount of power behind them. So, while he kept up with training and sparring, he never rode out to battle with Aragorn again. Alexis sparred with him, but, seeing as he could no longer go to war, she stayed behind with him during those times, ready to defend the city, if needed.

After Alexis gave birth to their first child, a son, she hung up her sword permanently unless she was helping to train others or sparring with her family members. Arndir had his mother’s red hair and his father’s gray eyes. He was not as tall as his father and was more slightly built, but he was still very muscular and strong. He was extremely stubborn and usually stuck to his chosen path, regardless of his parents’ advice. He learned the hard way that they often knew better than him from experience. He, regrettably, never found his soulmate and refused to marry anyone else, so the stewardship passed to Faramir’s descendants after him.

Their daughter Arthel was born just a couple of years after her brother. She was a good blend of her parents in appearance and personality. She had dark auburn hair and her mother’s blue eyes. She was tall like both of her parents and rather willowy in build. She picked up the sword as soon as she could and joined the Queen’s Guard when she came of age. She did eventually find her soulmate in a fellow soldier and settled down with her husband. They had three daughters together.

Boromir lived to the age of ninety, and after he passed away, Arndir took over the stewardship in his father’s place officially, though he had been doing most of the duties already due to his father’s failing health. Alexis was greatly saddened to lose her soulmate and partner, but she felt that there was still more for her to do. When her brother passed twenty years later, it was a second great blow, but she hung on for the sake of her sister, living another nineteen years and passing at the great age of one hundred twenty-one.

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Riley and Faramir

After receiving his duties from his father, Faramir did the best that he could in his brother’s absence, and although Riley certainly saw less of him, she did her best to help him where she could. While he organized any soldiers remaining in the city after the army marched out, she handed out blankets, food, and clothing to those that had had their homes destroyed in the battle. She also continued to assist in the Healing House as she could, even if it was only fetching and carrying.

They were together, however, when the end of the war came, and after the initial shock that it was all over, Faramir picked her up and spun her around in sheer joy that their world had been rid of the great evil at last. They had immediately set about spreading the word, and celebrations, such as could be had with such limited means, were had all over the city, despite the fact that there was no knowing who had survived such a battle as must have taken place.

When Aragorn and the rest returned, Faramir and Riley were ready for them, and the coronation was able to take place the same day thanks to their efforts. Nothing was better, however, than seeing Faramir reunited with his brother except perhaps being reunited with Erica and her other friends. She had been shocked beyond belief to learn that Erica was already married, but she was happy for her friend and not overly surprised to learn that this would be their last meeting all together. Things were changing, and they had to simply keep going.

When the others all departed for Rohan after Aragorn and Ashlan’s wedding, Riley opted to remain in the city with Alexis and the two Gondorian brothers. Faramir was in the process of bringing Boromir up-to-date on all that had occurred and what duties needed to be done while still assisting his older brother who had been wearied greatly by the trip from Lothlórien, and Riley was happy to stay and help him.

The two spent as much time together as they could, gradually learning more about the other until Aragorn and Ashlan returned. At that point, Boromir was officially given the stewardship, and Faramir was named Prince of Ithilien. While he planned to continue courting Riley as best as he could from the other province, she had suggested that they marry immediately and she go with him as his wife. He had been rather surprised but was happy to agree to the plan.

So, the two were married only a month after Aragorn’s return and relocated to Ithilien. There, they both had plenty of work to do in building a home for themselves and helping to cleanse the forest of any lurking enemies. There was also governance to reestablish. It had been quite some time since anyone had lived in Ithilien. Things greatly improved once the elves that Legolas led joined them.

Riley had been correct in assuming that the first year would be difficult, and Faramir watched in growing concern as his wife, who was thin and sinewy by nature grew even thinner. When it was discovered that she was pregnant, his worries increased tenfold, but Riley was strong and had always been rather healthy. Once things began to improve again, she was able to regain some of the weight she had lost and gave birth to a little girl. Her father-in-law lasted just long enough to see the birth of his first grandchild before passing away in Dol Amroth. He had spent much time near the sea his wife had once loved and seemed to be at peace when he passed.

Lennien had dark brown hair that fell between the raven locks of her father and the lighter brown of her mother. Her eyes, too, were a hazel color, looking gray at times and green at others. She was tall like they were and not as thin as her mother but was still muscular and naturally athletic. Despite that, she had a rather quiet personality, more like Faramir’s, and preferred books to swords. While she didn’t ever find her soulmate, she did marry a scholar who was in the same boat, and the two were quite happy together, having one son.

Two years later, Riley gave birth to their first son. Caundir had the light brown hair of his mother and shared his sister’s hazel-colored eyes. He was also tall like the rest of his family and was physically a good blend of his parents, though he favored Riley just a hair more than her husband. He was quiet like his father but also rather cheerful and optimistic, ready to help anyone who needed it. Like his sister, he never found his soulmate, but he married a sweet noble lady that helped him to continue his parents’ legacies after they were gone. Together, they had three sons and two daughters.

Their third child was another daughter. Sainel looked very much like her older sister with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She was taller than her sister, and her personality was much more like her brother’s. She was happy but rather quiet, and she rather enjoyed archery, often spending hours at the range practicing. She found her soulmate in a fellow noble in Gondor. The two fell head over heels for each other and married quickly, having two daughters.

Their final child was rather a surprise, but he was loved just as much as his other siblings. Nodir was the spitting image of his father with raven locks and gray eyes. Like his siblings, however, he was much more cheerful and optimistic, thanks to his mother’s influence. He enjoyed quiet pursuits and became a great advisor to the king in his day. While he didn’t ever meet his soulmate, he still married and was very happy with his wife. They had four daughters and two sons together.

Faramir lived to the good age of one hundred twenty. He did much good work in Ithilien and was remembered as a great leader. Riley was heartbroken at the death of her husband, but she rallied after a time, continuing to help those around her and to be a positive force for good in the world. She lived another thirty-five years, seeing all of her friends, other than Ashlan and Aragorn, pass away before her.

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Emma and Èomer

Almost as soon as Adrien’s wedding was over, Emma placed herself in the king’s records room. While many of the records were in the Common Tongue, the oldest were still in Rohirric, so Emma’s first goal was to learn the language, and she found a surprisingly willing teacher in one of King Théoden’s old advisors who had been replaced by Gríma. She was a quick study and was soon happily installed in the Golden Hall going through dusty scrolls.

Meanwhile, Èomer had been named Marshall of the Westfold and left Edoras altogether. While he was certainly sad to leave Emma behind, having hoped to have time to get to know his soulmate better, he was happy to fulfill his duty, and when Aragorn called on Rohan for aid, he was usually the one to ride to Gondor and beyond to aid his friend.

Emma often travelled to Gondor and Ithilien and even to Rivendell once to help sort through the records there when it became clear they would be left to languish. She developed a steady friendship with Faramir who she found many similarities with, and the two worked together to help distribute the records of Rivendell to Eryn Lasgalen and Gondor so that millennia of knowledge would not be lost.

With Èomer usually in the Westfold or on campaigns with Aragorn and Emma buried in old records in Edoras or travelling to Gondor herself, many wondered if the two would ever be able to learn enough about each other to wed. But they need not have feared.

Théodred was kind to his cousin and gave him leave as often as was reasonable, and when he was on leave, Èomer came to Edoras and spent many hours sitting with Emma in the records room, sharing stories. When they weren’t inside, they were riding out on the plains together as the king had been kind enough to lend Emma a horse to use. She had missed her own mount greatly and was ecstatic to be back in the saddle once more.

So, between quiet conversations in the Golden Hall and many rides outside the city, the two finally came to the point, two and a half years after meeting. Their friends and family all said that it was about time. They had a short engagement and married before the end of that year.

Initially, Èomer hoped that Emma might relocate to the Westfold where he might see her more often, but Emma refused. She was happy in Edoras, visiting Adrien and Èowyn almost every day and helping to organize the records. He easily conceded to her wishes, knowing that his family would look after her in his absence and returned to his duties.

While the two could spend weeks or even months apart, it simply meant that their reunions were that much sweeter when they occurred. After a dozen years of being parted from his wife and later his children, Èomer finally asked his cousin to reassign him to Edoras where he could be with his family for good. The king was happy to comply with the request and made his cousin one of his advisors instead.

After marrying her soulmate, Emma gave birth to five daughters before finally giving Èomer the son she knew he longed for. Her eldest, Éorwen, had her father’s darker gold hair and blue eyes. She wasn’t quite as tall as him, though. Her features greatly resembled Emma’s despite her father’s coloring. Her personality was a blend of her parents’. She enjoyed a good book or story, but if she was riled enough, she became quite fierce. She married a soldier who, though not her soulmate, treated her well, and the two had three sons and three daughters.

Eódis was born only eighteen months after her sister. Her hair was a little darker than her father’s, but she had his blue eyes and was just as tall as he was. Her features resembled Emma’s, but she had her father’s personality. She was a warrior through and through. After her cousin convinced the king to reinstate the Shieldmaiden Guard for the queen, she quickly joined. She was lucky enough to find her soulmate in a young scribe that worked with her mother. Although the two were certainly different, they were happy together and had two daughters and a son.

Éorhild soon followed her older sister into the world. She looked a lot like Emma and had her dark green eyes, but her hair was lighter in color than her mother’s. Like her next older sister, she had a warrior’s heart and wished nothing more than to be a shieldmaiden, but her health was not the best. So, she was prevented from following that path and turned her attention to the soldiers’ horses instead. With her mother’s help, she learned all she could about horses and became a well-known horse healer. She eventually married a soldier her father had trained after having no luck in finding her soulmate. They had one son and three daughters together. Unfortunately, she died at a rather young age giving birth to her youngest daughter.

Éorlith was her father in a female version. She looked just like him but with slightly softened features, had his height and features, but she was much more like her mother in personality. She enjoyed quiet pursuits, stories, and was a rather deft hand at needlework. She was extremely lucky to find her soulmate in a visiting dignitary from Gondor. The two had two sons and a daughter.

Éorlida had her mother’s hair color and blue green eyes that reflected both of her parents. She was tall like her sisters and had the same passion as her second eldest sister. She, too, became a shieldmaiden, though it did not last for very long. On her first diplomatic journey to Gondor with the queen, she found her soulmate in the son of one of Aragorn’s advisors. So, instead, she joined Ashlan’s guards until she settled down with her husband in the White City and gave him one son.

When Théogar finally came along, Èomer was ecstatic and quickly chose a name that reflected both his cousin and his uncle since Théodred’s own son had been named after Adrien. Théogar looked very much like his father and followed in his footsteps as a soldier, rising in the ranks to become the Marshall of the Westfold. He was quieter than his father, though, and had a great head for strategy, and in his later years, he became the king’s best tactician. He never found his soulmate, and he never married, preferring to dedicate himself wholly to Rohan.

Emma and Èomer lived long lives, continuing to help rebuild Rohan and lead it into the future. After the birth of her first child, Emma relocated into a fairly large home, luckily, near the palace. Adrien and Èowyn who were not able to have as many children as they wanted often helped her look after her own little army and were the best aunt and uncle anyone could ask for. They were both saddened greatly by Théodred’s death but continued to support his son as much as they had his father.

Èomer lived to be ninety-three and became well-known in both Rohan and Gondor as a great warrior. In his later years, he served the king as an advisor, providing what wisdom he could based on what he had seen in his life. Emma was devastated by her husband’s passing, but her children all supported her through the loss.

Emma continued her work with the records of the nation until her eyes grew too dim to read the scrolls. Even then, she went on for another year, having others read the scrolls to her and directing the work in what came to be known as Emma’s Hall in Meduseld. Through her work, she was able to save much history and restore knowledge of the shieldmaidens that had been nearly forgotten to time. She became known as Rohan’s first great scribe and was fondly remembered after she passed twenty-eight years after the loss of her husband.

So, the twelve friends had done what they were brought to Middle-Earth to do, help stop evil, mitigate losses, and save those that might be saved. They lived happy, if not perfect, lives with their soulmates and saw their children grow up in a much happier world than had existed when they arrived. While there were times that they certainly missed things from their old world like macaroni and cheese, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, better plumbing, jeans, gym equipment, ball point pens, and other such conveniences, they had adapted well to a world that was not theirs and found a place for themselves in it, and if those across the sea uttered a sigh or two on occasion for their lost friends, it never lasted long as they were distracted by their families and reminded of their own happiness and those that were still with them.