She remembered that the sky had grown dark, shrouding the city in a curtain of ink. Where alcoves and side passages had once been wreathed in light and music, a coldness had settled instead, filled with a malice not seen since the dark ages. She remembered her father giving her the order to run as a hoard of snarling monsters crested the horizon, storming through the streets till the frigid air was replaced by the scent of burnt flesh, a rot that clung to everyone.

She didn't sleep for days, urged on as she was by people whose faces were long since lost to the ravages of time, blurred at the edges but familiar. There were but a handful of them from what she could remember and they had been tired when their king eventually prowled towards them with what remained of his warriors.

Victorious but grim. Their city had fallen but the hoard that had attempted to destroy them had been eliminated.

"Our people still live." The Bloodripper had said and she recalled his cape, ripped and torn as it was, caught in the wind in time with the tattered remains of a standard still gripped in a soldiers hand. "Our very culture is built around our ability to adapt. We will endure."

She didn't remember a lot after that, being as young as she was. But she did remember the river. It too was cold, but the waters had a desperate freshness to it. All around her her people were stumbling, their traditional garb with its heavy fabrics weighing them down through the rushing water as they scrambled, dignity forgotten amidst the horrors that came with losing their home. By the end of it, most had shed all but their basic layers of clothing, the ornate fabrics dragged by the current to some unknown shore, some shed their humanoid forms altogether.

Alissa was carried in her fathers arms, safe and secure in the knowledge that so long as he was there, there would be nothing on this good earth that could harm her. The remnants of Yor eventually settled within the boughs of Fangorn to seek whatever bounty and safety it could offer them.

Sleep had eluded Alissa for as long as she could remember. The moon called to her people and gifted them with dreams of memory. Most of the time, her dreams consisted of aspects of her daily routine, amusements from her peers and experiences granted by the depths of Fangorn. However recently, though never before had she believed in prophetic dreams, she saw dark crows wreathed in flame, stone archways crumbling beneath unseen claws and the sound of rhythmic drums.

While not something she would normally fear, the frequency and obscure nature of the dreams disturbed her and kept her from rest. She sat in the carved window of the hollowed out tree that was her abode and stared down at the faint flickering flames of the shifter guards on patrol beneath. Well known but no worn paths tracked their progress around the perimeter of their settlement, gentle murmurs of interaction every now and then but eyes were watching the shifting darkness around them, wary for signs of an intruder, rare as they were.

Their home was in the depths of Fangorn, well away from the influences of most cultures. With no formal trade with other races and no communications with any outsiders, Alissa wouldn't have been surprised if the tales of their race had become the things of legend. She imagined that no foreign scholar would have been surprised by their disappearance but she wondered if they mourned their loss? They had sent no word to their allies after the destruction of Yor and from what little remained of the city it would not take much stretch of the imagination to conclude that their entire race had perished. The few survivors that had mates and families with mortals and elves alike, the only reminders of a once proud people.

How surprised they would be, to discover that the ancient forests had housed their people, allowed them to build dwellings in the trees, with windows small enough that to any foreign traveler would appear to be nothing more than cracks in the bark as a result from age, doors high up in the branches to avoid detection. Thriving among the confines of nature, surviving on the wealth of resources the ancient boughs had to offer, lacking nothing but holding close to what it meant to be a shifter, the true values of change and challenge embraced with fierce devotion.

Their home, for the most part, would be invisible to all those without the eyes to see. She couldn't help the amused smirk that spread across her cheeks at the thought.

Alissa's stomach began to growl and rumble its way around her belly, so she decided to go and break her fast. She climbed up several flights of stairs that were part of the tree until she reached the larder. She grabbed a piece of fruit and a hunk of meat that was hanging from the ceiling. Placing both onto a piece of stale bread she wandered outside and sat down on a branch, high up in the treetops. She started tearing into the raw steak almost absentmindedly as she waited for her father to awaken.

It didn't take him long, the Bloodripper was a light sleeper, so attuned to his surroundings that the slightest disturbance in the air around him would cause him to sit bolt upright, ready to do damage if necessary.

Her father had aged greatly beneath the trees. He had grown a beard that settled just above his midriff, lines were etched deeply into his pale face and his eyes, once a vivid green, had gone dull with a blindness caused by a fire several centuries before. He had not remarried after the death of her mother and siblings during the fall of Yor. A small part of her didn't mind, it was just the two of them and that was how she liked it, although recently her father had begun pressuring her to find a mate to continue their line. She was content the way she was so resistant to the idea.

His leg was troubling him this morning, Alissa thought, noting the gnarled staff clutched tightly in his hand whilst the other clutched at the railing she herself had built into the wall several years before. But despite this, he was still immaculately dressed in his robes of silver, hair and beard neatly combed and a wide smile was plastered on his face when his blind eyes turned towards her.

"Alissa my child" he greeted her warmly, arms encircling her when she pushed herself to her feet. She hugged him back before releasing him to make him some tea.

She stoked the fire until it was hot enough for the water to boil before she collected the herbs he liked to place into the cup already sitting in front of his usual spot by the window.

As usual, he sat down heavily and placed his staff carefully out of the way so she wouldn't trip (as she had a number of times previously) and held his arm out the window. Alissa had barely begun to pour the steaming liquid into the king's cup before a bird alighted on his arm.

"Ho, Derian, what news do you bring to the king" Alissa queried politely as the bird shook his feathers to settle himself better on his awkward perch. He coughed once before replying "Your Majesty, your Highness I hope to find you in good health. I however, do not bring the usual morning report other than that our population has grown by two more after the birth of Maris's twin daughters"

Alistair smiled with real warmth at the news " So the tigress has borne heirs, I had wondered why the flow of pastries had ceased gracing our peoples tables." Maris was one of the women who had taken Alissa under their wing to better instruct on the ways of womanhood than her poor embarrassed father could when asked a question at the dinner table, and had been like a second mother to her as well as one of the many staff that worked within the bowels of the great tree where the royal family lived.

The bird coughed again before speaking again " I have also heard from a friend of mine who dwells close to Imladeris. Elrond Half-Elven it seems does not believe in the rumours of our demise and has attempted to send lesser birds as emissaries. It appears..." And here the birds words turned careful. "That you have been summoned to appear at a council." Both shifters gave a soft growl.

"SUMMONED! The elf lord thinks he can summon me like some deranged pup?!" Age had not soothed the temper of his youth nor his pride and Alistair completely lost his poor bird squeaked in fright and hopped delicately off his arm to perch on top of the sugar bowl.

Alissa laid a hand on her fathers shoulder until he quieted before she nodded at the bird "Speak friend, know no harm shall come to you, what is the nature of this council and what other manner of creatures have been summoned?"

"Many young mistress" Derian croaked, "Dwarves, men and even some little folk I know none about. It seems all the free peoples have been summoned."

An awkward pause.

"Thank you my friend, you may go" The bird looked nervously at the king, whose face still bore a thunderous expression before quickly taking flight out of the open window.

Alissa sighed and walked over to the larder to fix her fathers pre-banquet meal and said "You'd think that the birds of Derian's line would've worked out by now that we aren't going to eat them" bringing the plate back she slid into the chair next to her father and placed the dish in front of him. Food immediately smoothed the lines of temper and he gave a venting breath.

Unsheathing his claws, Alistair delicately picked off the strip of fat along the edge of the meat before picking it up in his hands to chew. "Its because it's the natural order of things Alissa, it is only natural that he, as the smaller being, sees himself as subject to those laws of nature and can only hope that we find it in ourselves to disregard him as dinner."

Alissa laughed "Yes but I would never eat him, feathers are awfully hard to pick out of ones teeth."

Alistair smiled his agreement before sobering "What matter would be so important that the elf lord would want my council?" Alissa knew the question was not directed at her and so did not voice her opinion, not that she had a clue.

Alistair ran his hand through his hair in agitation "He has a nerve to ask such a thing of me! We have been sitting here in our forest for millennia and never has he had the gall to extend the hand of friendship for fear. He is a coward! And cowards do what they do best" he said bitterly, meat laid aside. "This is likely some sort of quest he cannot find within himself to do, so must send others to in his stead."

"But father, why now of all times. You and I both know of the shadow descending over the forest. You cannot tell me this is mere coincidence that can be dismissed as an elvish trick. Why not answer the summons?"

Alistair looked down at his plate "I cannot be seen as weak my daughter, this Half-Elven has dared to summon me. My pride forbids me from answering, my honor recoils at the notion that I would bow down to this Elfs wishes, despite the logic you present to me." His unseeing eyes raised to gaze in the direction her voice had come from. "Not to mention that my form is diminished," he said softly. "T'would be that I do not survive the journey to his lofty halls. But in my heart I feel that we must go. My will is torn."

They sat in silence for a long while until the sun was high enough that the shadowy shapes of the surrounding leaves filtered through the window to stretch across the room. It was then that Alissa spoke "Then it is I who shall answer the summons father."

Expecting to hear him negate against her, she was surprised to find that he only sighed and nodded before looking out the window, a single tear dripping down his weathered cheek.

Alissa rose fluidly from her chair and padded over to stand behind him. She rested her head on his shoulder and rubbed her cheek against his briefly before she moved away to begin packing for the journey to the elven city. There was no reason to hesitate. A decree had been made and the darkness of the forest had rubbed her nerves raw. Something inside her that had been pressuring for change was gentled as soon as permission had been given and there was no telling how out of date Derians news would be.

She would need to travel light, as she would get there faster than the three weeks if she traveled in her animal form. As such she would only take her three knives, a satchel with her royal garb and a few tunics and leggings, enough food for a week (she'd have to hunt when the time arose).

It didn't take her long to pack, so she just stood around staring at the room that had been hers for several long years and the weight of what she had decided to do began to push onto her shoulders. She had never left Fangorn since the fall of Yor and the other memories she possessed of the outside world were vague to the point of non-existence.

The room appeared timeless, in her eyes. Nothing much had changed in the years she had been there. There was still the same bed she had been tucked up into every night after her father had bade the councilors leave, the marks on her armoire from her badly aimed knife practice, the chest filled with all the things a child has, stones and twigs of particular significance or interest, toys, scuffed and marked with age and also…the only thing left of her mother. The ream of silk that had been bought for her all those years ago had been placed in the chest to only be brought out on special occasions. She still didn't know how it had been saved in the frenzy of destruction but it bought her great comfort for sometimes, if she concentrated hard enough, she could catch a faint whiff of her mothers perfume.

She knelt in front of the box and lifted the lid up. It creaked loudly in the stillness of the room. She rifled through a few of her treasures until she reached the latch at the bottom. She flicked it and it popped smartly open. She pulled out the shimmering cloth. It was indeed beautiful. Swirly silver was threaded through until the gold appeared to ripple like water. A mockery of the fate that had befallen them, Alissa morbidly thought. She lifted the material closer to her nose and sniffed gently. Underneath the layers of scents the passing years had left on them, sticky fingers, earth and dust, she could still smell her. Her mother had always worn the most exotic of perfumes, her father had told her, each day she tried several on like an variety of candies a child might sneak from a stoic parent until she was satisfied that her scent matched her mood.

It was sweet yet heady at the same time. Vanilla and caramel, Roses and Dahlias or apples and cinnamon. After all these years Alissa still couldn't decide what it was.

She decided it was too precious a gift to take with her and she gently folded it to place into her bag. Then, when she looked at the few items in the satchel already, rushed around the room to gather the things she missed. She would need to look somewhat decent when she arrived in the elven city.

At the last minute chucking a shawl inside the bag in case of cold weather, however unlikely, she left the room without a second glance.

Her father was still sitting at the table and she sat down in the opposing chair.

"I should not ask if you are ready." Her father said with a wry smile. "You are a woman grown, of a strong lineage. But you are a child of Fangorn and the world you walk towards is strange to us. I bid you care."

"I will return with news father." Alissa bowed her head and her fathers hand rested on it briefly before it trailed away as a signal to depart.

AN:

Welcome to Alissa!

It took awhile to decide how I would approach Alissa for a rewrite after I discovered the unfinished, unpolished fanfiction that I had started during my first year as an undergraduate. 5 years is a long time but it is great to be walking alongside Alissa once more. Constructive feedback is appreciated but not necessary. I will try to keep updates regular. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. :D