Aredhel rode her black gelding hard, racing the sun as it disappeared beyond the trees of Nan Elmoth. But fast as she rode, she could not outpace the lengthening shadows, and above her the sky had transitioned from the bright red and orange of sunset to the dark blue and slate of early evening.

"Valar" she cursed aloud as she slowed her horse to a walk. She looked around in irritation. She had hoped to skirt the northern borders of the great forest before heading back up north at its eastern flank long before nightfall, but she had lost time evading King Thingol's march wardens in the wasteland that separated the Northern realm of Himlad from Doriath's most eastern forest.

It's not that she was scared of Thingol, but relations between King Thingol and her brother, King Turgon, the High King of the Noldor in the northern realm of Gondolin, were strained at best. As her host had discovered months before, the King would not suffer a Noldor to officially enter his lands.

Of course she was no warrior, and she knew that Thingol's guards were aware of her travels and would quietly tolerate her provided she did not over stay her welcome or become too 'obvious' in her presence.

She leaned forward to pat her horse's neck and began to survey her surroundings. She was on the edge of a copse of ancient looking trees covered with dark green moss that hung low, almost skimming the flowing surface of the silver forest streams that ran freely between them.

It was really quite beautiful and, dismounting, she led her horse through the a mossy grove and deeper into the dark green shadows that lay beyond.

The sounds of the forest were muffled by the soft velvet lichen, and the moonlight, bright as it was, barely penetrated the leafy canopy.

As she led her horse deeper into Nan Elmoth, Aredhel felt weary and reflected on the long day of travel. It had been slow going and she hadn't rested since the sun was young in the sky. She longed for sleep and could feel the fatigue radiating from her horse's quivering muscles.

The forest felt fresh and damp after her long ride across barren moors in the cold but unforgiving sun. She had not walked long when she spotted a small corner where the moss grew thick. Bordered by a delicate crystal stream with thick reeds and sweetgrass growing on its verge and a line of fir trees behind it, the spot was a perfect camp for Aredhel and her horse to rest.

She unpacked her kit and, with a soft kiss on the horse's nose, the chestnut haired Elven princess spread a blanket on the ground. Too tired to prepare food or even wash the dust from her face, she lay on the blanket and draped her travel cloak around her to keep warm.

She rested her sword unsheathed at her side for protection and her last thought was that she really should take more precaution, yet she was too tired to care and, with a sigh, she feel into a deep and exhausted sleep.

A few hours later she heard the sound of water splashing. She opened one eyelid slightly and, through dark lashes, she stared towards a figure crouched at the edge of the stream.

The half moon cast enough of a glow to illuminate his broad shoulders and warrior's build. She slowly exhaled and rolled to her side, rising up silently from the grass, sword in hand, with the intent of creeping up behind the figure and knocking him out with the base of her hilt. But as she rose, her horse snickered in greeting, and the figure turned around, his eyes widening with surprise at her raised sword.

"Who are you?" She said, feigning confidence she didn't really feel. "And what do you want?"

The elf was tall, much taller than her and she was aware of the extreme danger in which she had placed herself. She looked at his broad shoulders. Should she have to swing her sword, it was more likely he'd take her down first.

Her eyes flicked over him, taking in his ebony hair, impossibly silver eyes that glittered metallic in the moonlight and a wide sensual mouth that made her own go dry.

He didn't move, he merely canted his head to study her in return. As the moonlight shone on the sharp edges of his jaw and cheekbones, the hint of a smile played on his lips.

"I might ask the same, for you are a stranger in MY forest."

Aredhel blinked and raised her chin a fraction, but the ellon raised his hand and gestured for her to lower her sword. His words were sparse, his voice direct. It betrayed no fear, although curiosity tinged his matter of fact demeanour.

"You have no need of a weapon here, Princess. You are in Nan Elmoth of Doriath. I am Eol." He bowed his head and swept his hand from his heart to his side, a sign of welcome and friendship.

Aredhel's hand tightened on the hilt. "And what are you doing here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I brought your horse some oats, and was washing the meal from my hands."

She looked over to the horse and felt her cheeks flame when she saw that indeed, her horse was hungrily eating a large bowl of oats mixed with water. It was a mortifying thought that she had slept out in the open while this strange elf – Eol - literally mixed meal and fed it to her horse. He should have woken her and introduced himself! Aredhel exhaled and lowered her sword halfway before a sudden through sprang to mind and she quickly raised it again. "Why did you call me 'princess'?"

Eol's lips curved into a tight, wry smile. "This may be a remote corner of Doriath, but even I have heard that the Noldorin Princess Aredhel, Sister of Turgon, is travelling these lands."

"Your King has hardly made me welcome." She said, not realizing she had lapsed into a most undignified pout.

Eol's face was once again serious. "I am not King Thingol, Princess Aredhel, and as long as you are in Nan Elmoth you are my guest, but I would ask that you lower your sword. Where is your host?"

She took a step back. She had wandered south through Himlad with no host, but she was not about to admit this to a stranger. "They are but a few hours behind me and should arrive any moment."

"Or you were separated and they search for you even now," he said quietly. He looked at her still-raised sword and exhaled impatiently. "Princess, you have my word, I will not injure you nor impose on you in any way."

There was something in the way he spoke; indignant at her display of distrust that reminded her of her brothers. This was no simple elf. She was in the presence of an Elven lord; this much was obvious. She quickly lowered her sword, suddenly embarrassed. "No, of course not. It's just…well, you should have made your presence known, and now I fear you have me at a disadvantage."

Eol lowered his head. Aredhel sharpened her gaze – it was hard to see, but was he hiding a smirk? When he looked up, his face was again serious. "Indeed – my apologies. I wish to offer you the hospitality and privacy of my home. You will be safe and comfortable there. It's a short walk from here and the moon is bright enough to light the way."

After the hard ground of the open road, it was a welcome offer. Aredhel studied him for a moment. He was taller and more angular than the Gondolindrim up north, but there was a sinewy strength in his long limbs and he moved with simple grace. Like his demeanour, his speech denoted an air of nobility, yet his hair hung lose down his back and his clothes were simple.

Suddenly she remembered the name. "Eol…are you not kin to King Thingol, and the worker of metal – the swordmaker - who chooses to live alone?"

He said nothing, but knelt down to collect her cloak and pack. He gracefully rose and handed her the cloak. He reached out to take the horse's reins in one hand and carried her pack in the other, then he led both the horse and the elleth along the stream deeper into the forest. Aredhel moved quickly to keep up with him.

"What else have you heard about me?" he asked. He glanced back at her from time to time, and each time he met her eyes, Aredhel's stomach jumped nervously.

"I was told you made a sword from a moon rock and offered it to your King who treasures it, and you learnt this craft from the dwarves of Nogrod and Belegost. Even that you lived with them for a time."

At first he said nothing as he deftly stepped over rocks and tree roots in the dark. Aredhel carefully followed his lead. Just when Aredhel had given up on expecting a response, he said "I made two swords, Anglachel and Anguirel. Anglachel I gave to King Thingol as you have heard, and the other I kept. How long will you travel through Nan Elmoth?"

"In the morning I will depart."

"As you wish."

They walked on until they came to a large wooden and stone structure with an inner courtyard. While ruggedly built, even in the dark Aredhel's eyes could trace the graceful lines and sensual curves of the architecture.

A welcoming amber light shone through the windows and Aredhel smiled to see it. She noticed Eol watching her, his face serious, and she quickly looked away.

Eol let the horse roam free. "He'll not go far. It's quite safe," he said and Aredhel nodded. Finally he opened the large wood door to the courtyard and they followed a stone path up to the house.

Inside, the house had two rooms: A great room with two large hearths on either side whose fires bathed the house in a warm orange glow. One for cooking that warmed a great oak table, and another on the opposite side of the room that warmed a large sofa and two chairs. The latter were covered in soft furs and luxurious blankets. The walls were lined with books and rich silken tapestries. Her eyes took in the delicately carved wood door that led to another room.

"Where you will sleep the rest of the night." He opened the door and stepped aside.

She glanced nervously up at him, but he lowered his eyes in something that, had he been friendlier in nature, might have passed for gentlemanly deference.

She paused for a moment; in the light she could see him better. His features were sharp as though chiselled from the same meteorite from which he'd forged the swords. Yet his face was softened by an unexpectedly generous mouth and full lips. He was not conventionally handsome but there was an intensity to him that she found intriguing and, when he caught her eye, her heart quickened.

With a nod, she straightened her shoulders and walked past him into the sleeping chamber.

"There is a fresh shift you may change into and more than enough furs to keep you warm. Should you wish for anything, I will be in the next room." He began to retreat, closing the door behind him.

"Wait," she said. He turned back around, his eyebrows raised in silent question.

"I am thirsty."

At first he said nothing then nodded. "I will return with refreshment presently."

He left the room, closing the door behind him, and with a sigh, Aredhel sat on the massive bed and looked around her. There was a basin and ewer of steaming water on a sideboard. The trees of Nan Elmoth have eyes, she mused, for Eol had not stumbled upon her, he had prepared for her arrival. Still, the water was warm…

She gratefully rose to wash her face and ran her fingers through her hair. Her travel clothes were filthy. She let them drop at her feet and began to wipe the sweat and dirt from her body with the soft sponge he'd left beside the bowl. Her hands slowed as she lost herself in the delicious warm water sluicing down her shoulders and chest, and her mind wandered to her host.

What did she know of Eol? He was family to the King although she could not recall the nature of his connection, only that he was much respected for the fine weaponry and armor he crafted. Not that these facts meant he was to be trusted. He also had a reputation for being taciturn and clearly he preferred his own company to Elven society.

There was something about him that unnerved her, she realized, as she ran the sponge down her waist and abdomen. She thought of how his silver eyes held her own and her hand paused. That's it, she thought. He's too direct. Still, there was something about him…

Her stomach growled and she realized she hadn't eaten since early morning. She wasn't sure what time it was – perhaps nearing midnight? She regretted not mentioning food to Eol, but decided she could wait till morning. It occurred to that he had left her pack outside the room. She quickly threw the clean shift over her shoulders and wrapped herself in one of the larger furs.

She opened the door to find Eol making his way across the great room with a tray of wine, meat, bread and cheese. His eyes paused on her damp hair and the fur draped loosely around her shoulders and dropped momentarily to the soft skin showing above the low neckline of the white shift. Her breath caught and her cheeks flamed.

"I thought you might be hungry."

"I wanted my pack"

They each spoke at once.

Aredhel, momentarily thrown off, bit her lip and looked down. When she looked back up, Eol was staring at her intensely, a flicker of a smile played on his lips.

"Sit by the fire while you eat." He gestured towards the sofa.

She was not sure if it was a request or a command, but Aredhel hungrily spied the food on the tray and nodded, softly padding across the room in her bare feet. She was intensely aware of Eol's eyes following her, and suddenly self-conscious about her bare shins. She gave him a sideways glance as she sat down.

Eol laid the tray on the side table and silently returned to the kitchen area to pour himself some wine. Aredhel kept her eyes on his back as he moved. He wore a simple black tunic, the same colour as his hair, and grey leggings. As he poured the wine, his eyes looked up only to catch her staring. She quickly looked away and took a sip of her own wine.

Oh valar.

She closed her eyes, savouring the taste and the feel of it warming her belly. It had been weeks since she'd had any wine, let alone wine of this quality. By the time she opened them, Eol had settled himself on one of the plush chairs across from her. Again their eyes met.

"Why do you stare at me like that?" she asked.

"Does it bother you?"

She paused. Truth be told, she liked feeling his eyes on her. "Yes. Please stop."

He turned his head to stare into the fire, and, with a sense of mingled relief and regret, she started to eat. She did not catch his hard look nor notice how tightly he held his wine glass. She was ravenous and he was so quiet that she almost forgot he was there as she devoured the food with non-princess like enthusiasm.

Finally, feeling the relieved contentment of a comfortably distended stomach, she pushed the tray away and, pulling the fur more tightly around her, she leaned back on the sofa. She glanced over at her quiet companion who sat sipping his wine and staring into the fire. As he seemed disinclined to make any effort to converse with her, she reflected on her current situation.

How odd the Sindars are, she thought, looking around the rustic stone house. Still, it did seem that Eol respected the rules of Elven hospitality (even when his King did not) and, for the first time in weeks, she felt warm and rested.

Tomorrow she would ride north back to Himlad and perhaps, by the she arrived, her cousins Curufin and Celegorm would finally be there to meet her. But for now, she appreciated the warm fire and the strong elf sitting across from her who, despite his taciturn manner, made her feel oddly safe.

"Lord Eol," she said quietly. He looked over.

"Thank you." She offered him a small smile.

He looked back at her and nodded his head in obligatory acknowledgement, and as much as Aredhel searched for some warmth in the gesture, she found none.