A/N-This is only a one-shot. Its simply about an Elven woman preparing for the move into the West. Seeing the memories some of her books bring back. I hope you enjoy it!

The Elven woman looked around her snug home and sighed. Now it was time to pack up these six millennia of clutter and move on to the Havens. The King was returning. The One Ring was to be destroyed. The Fellowship may have been sundered but still the time strode on.

She looked around, brushing her white hair out of her lineless face. This had been her home for so long. She had begin going through things years before when Bilbo had found the Ring again. Now she had still so much to do and not much time left to do it in. Sighing, she tied her hair back again and looked at the next pile to be conquered. This one was of books, some written as journals by herself, others were written by her from tales told by others.

She had sent several boxes already to different scholars, throughout Middle Earth, including a box of old Dwarven tales to the Dwarves of Lonely Mountain. Others had been sent to the few Elves who would be staying. She hated having to divide her precious writings but not all could go with her. It was so hard though….

She picked up yet another treasured tome, running a hand over the tooled leather binding. This one, she had decided, she would give as a gift to the wonderful Bilbo. He would be going with them, of course, and would appreciate the storytelling. Setting it aside, she reached for the next on the shelf. And then the next.

Soon, yet another shelf of her life was divided into neat piles: those to be given away, those to keep, and those to destroy. It pained her to destroy any book. Seeing the history written there go up in flames, tore a piece of her heart away.

As she started on the next shelf, small snippets of her own history began to come back to her.

There she was, a young child, enjoying the freedom and beauty of Lothlorien. Around her, birds sprang into song. There young fawns played in a glade, with nary a glance at the elfling child. She ghosted through the trees, adept as any at keeping her movements unnoticed by bird or beast. Wild plants grew larger, freer here than anywhere else.

Now, she was a serious young woman, taking to her lessons in magic, like a duckling to water. Her magic progressed apace. Soon she could be trusted on her own. More private studying followed, she being a rare serious Elf.

Now she was walking hand in hand with her beloved. In two days he would leave her, to go fight in Mordor, under Elrond's banner. Sauron had to be stopped and the Elves were needed. So fight he would. He would stand beside Isildur and Elrond against the black menace called Sauron.

She would miss him horribly and would hope for his safe return every moment , of every day he stayed from her side. Their child, nestled so securely beneath her heart, would be his beacon home.

The next scene nearly broke her heart anew. She stood listening to the names of all those who would never return. Her one true love, the being she loved more than life itself would remain on that distant battlefield, never to return to her side. He would never hear the golden sunshine laughter of their beautiful daughter. She would never know the wonderful man who was her father.

After the names were done, she stayed long enough to hear Elrond, wondering if he could say anything to ease the suffering of her heart. The words he spoke only added to the deep despair in which she now found herself.

The One Ring, so close to being destroyed, had slipped from their hands into hands unknown. Now they would wait. For it would, itself, want to be found again. A Power that great would not rest easy in any hands, corrupting all it came into contact with. It would find a way to return itself to Mordor, that dark void where evil had dwelt so long.

Shaking herself, from those dark thoughts, her life skipped far forward again. This time she sat in a banquet hall, surrounded by twelve Dwarves and a simple Hobbit, come here to stop and rest on their journey to slay the dragon, Smaug, and return the hallowed halls of Lonely Mountain to their rightful owners: the Dwarves. She listened as Elrond named the blades handed him by Gandalf the Grey and Thorin. She tuned out the histories of those blades, knowing them as they were.

A glance around that table showed eagerness on the face of the Dwarves. This was their chance to reclaim something lost, something taken from them oh so long ago.

Yet, the Hobbit, quiet and unassuming, sat looking around him in wonder and delight. She smiled, slightly, to herself. 'Ahh. What our young Mr. Baggins must be thinking!' She had thought that night, to herself, the poor burglar could not believe all that his eyes were telling him. All around him, elves sat enjoying this chance to celebrate, while at the head of the table Elrond and Gandalf sat, speaking quietly.

The morning of their departure, she stood on one of the many balconies, looking out over Rivendell, and watched the party leave yet again. Hopefully, that sweet Mr. Baggins would return.

Now, she watched as the Fellowship was formed. She had misgivings about Boramir, but held her peace. It was not her place to question those willing to take on so grave and dangerous a task.

Finally, she came back to the present. Another shelf of books was divided, into the three neat piles. The past was getting her nowhere. The present was almost too painful to bear. Soon, it would be her turn to head into the West. Soon, her time would come.

She wiped the dusty tears rolling down her cheeks and turned back to her task. Time was running out. Her things would be ready as would she. As would she…..

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A/N So this is the FIRST thing I have written for this section of FF.net… I hope you enjoyed this. I usually write over in the Mercedes Lackey Book section… If you enjoyed this or if you didn't R&R!!!!