Author's Notes: A ficlet born of yearning for starlit nights and a better world.

Warnings: AUish elements.

Hope Eternal

"Ada, ada!" you cry.

The two look-alikes have come with your father. He is home, but he is too still, too quiet. You reach for him, but gentle hands pull you away. Later, you will thank the Elves for it, be grateful you do not see your father's face so gruesome as you would your future Ranger companions. Your last memory of your father is of laughter, a warm fire, and the brisk smell of herbs.

Naneth starts to fall, but catches herself. She swallows hard, and you hear the murmur of hard voices. The twins do not tell her how he suffered, but do tell her she must flee with you. You do not understand until she gathers your tunics and favorite wooden horse, carved and given to you at birth.

There is a star overhead, bright. You don't remember it being this bright before, but at two years old, you don't have so many memories yet. But you do think you see it flash before you are lifted onto Naneth's lap, and you try to point it out.

"Hush," she says, the command stern with fear. "We must be as quiet as possible."

The Elves are mounted beside you, and the three of you ride off into the too-clear night. Between the star winking and the rollicking of the ride, you fall asleep, at peace.