A/N Heylaz everyone! Blaith Naithol here. This fic is a collab between myself and my good friend Arra Metauro, she who lives in Lorien. *giggle* No, really, she does! (see my bio). Anyways, this first chappie is written by me. The girl's name is pronounced Cara-leen. Arra and I own the unknown characters. The rest belong to (guess who!) JRR Tolkein and such.

Caraline trudged up what she fervently hoped was the last hill. She shifted the heavy weight of her pack to a more comfortable position and gazed down from the immense height of the hilltop.

Cara was an outcast, declared 'un-womanly' by her own kin. She loathed skirts and dresses, and dreaded taking part in 'womanly' tasks of any kind. Whenever she could, she would escape to the forest and its peace. When she was little, she would pretend that there was an Elf or Ranger in the forest with her. She would then sneak up on the 'Ranger' and take him totally off his guard. Impressed with her skill, her 'Ranger' would then adopt her and teach her the ways of the forest that she loved so very dearly. She wouldn't have to wear a skirt again and would be able to marry whomever she wished.

Only Cara's father had understood. He would listen to her wistful daydreams and reply, "Well my little one, it might very well happen." He had taught her how to shoot a bow before he fell ill. When she mastered the bow, he had told her that she "shot as well as any Elf." To Cara, there was no higher praise.

Right before he died, Cara was called to her beloved father's side. This is when she inherited the bow of the Avalons. Her father presented it to her, saying that it had been in his family for generations. "I was supposed to give it to my eldest son," he told her, "but you are the only one of my offspring who is truly adept at the bow. I feel that you, my lovely Caraline, shall need it the most, for I know that you would never use it for ill. I love you, child of my very heart." Two days later, he died. After that, Cara's life went to hell.

Cara had been at the tender age of 15 when her mother had remarried a man named Carthas. He had seemed to be a warm, caring man. They had been very much fooled. After the marriage, Cara's stepfather showed his true colors. He was a cruel, callous man who wanted to control everything. He soon found out that, as everyone else on the holdings knew, no one could control Cara. This enraged him. He beat her, cut her unruly, muddy, red- brown hair short to humiliate her, burnt or broke everything that was precious to her (except her father's bow; Cara had taken pains to hide *that* from him). Nothing broke her. When she turned 16, Carthas had her engaged to a wealthy man, old enough to be her father, who had previously had two wives: both of which he had beaten to death. No one had dared to turn him in for those grisly murders, as he was a *very* influential man. "It's for your own good," Carthas had told Cara over the engagement feast. "If he can't turn you into the woman you should be, then you don't deserve to live."

That very night, under the cover of darkness, Cara, dressed in her brother's clothing, fled the only life that she ever knew. She only took essentials with her: her father's bow, a quiver full of arrows, food, and a change or two of clothing (also stolen from her elder and kindest brother, Willem). At first, Cara decided to head for Rohan, for she had heard that Éowyn, Théoden-King's niece, was an acclaimed shield-maiden. At the first village she came to, though, Cara was regarded as fey and unnatural. She was, indeed, an odd sight; wearing her brother's breeches, with her short, fluffy, muddy-brown hair, and dark, violet eyes. The bow and quiver just added to her mystique.

Cara knew that she was attractive; she'd had numerous suitors before her engagement, but the number of men that tried to have their way with her, frightened her greatly. She retreated to the forest as soon as was possible. It was there that she learned of her two very special abilities: Animal Mind-Speaking and Empathy.

The animals loved this poor, lost girl, walking alone in their midst; the fact that she could speak with just endeared her to them. It was Cayire, the regal, red-gold hawk, that suggested she travel, first, to Rivendell. It was Cayire who flew in front of her now, guiding her.

'We are almost there, Caraline. Do you see?' Cayire asked her, his voice like a cool gust of wind in her mind. Indeed, Cara could she the beautiful Rivendell, just beyond the hill on which she stood. Cara started downhill, so much easier than up! As she neared Rivendell, she saw a figure standing at the gates. Thinking it was an Elf, she quickened her pace. But soon she drew close enough to see that the figure was a Man.

Cara shrank back into the shadows before the man could spot her. She was close enough to see that he had a thoughtful expression on his face. Memories of her stepfather and the men who had tried to take advantage of her were still fresh in her mind. Her stepfather never broke her, that much was true, but he never knew just how close he came. Men to Cara, at that moment, meant pain and fear. But oh! she was so exhausted. Her legs gave way under her. The man noticed that she was there and caught her before she fell.

"I'm all right," Cara whispered faintly, fighting down her fear enough to gently probe him with her Empathy. Surprisingly enough (to Cara), she felt no desire in him to either hurt her or to take her to his bed. She only felt feelings of worry and a want to help.

"No, you're not," the man said, turning his intense, dark eyes to Cara's face. Cara trembled slightly under that gaze, but still, there were no feelings of ill will. His voice was low and strangely melodious, not at all unpleasant to the ear. He studied Cara for a moment and, before she could protest, picked her up. His strong arms cradled her gently against his chest, those passionate eyes never leaving her face. Ignoring her objections, he carried her into the House of Elrond. Giving up trying to make him put her down, Cara fell asleep, gently lulled by his heartbeat. (A/N All together now, "Awwww…")

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Cara woke up sometime later, in the most comfortable bed she had ever lain in. She gazed in wonder at the room. It was so peaceful and serene. When her eyes alighted on the man who had brought her in, dozing gently on a chair next to her bed, she was touched (A/N Not like *that,* O reader with a dirty mind!) to no extent. He knew not whether she meant those in Rivendell good or ill, yet he had chosen to keep a vigilance over her while she slept. She took this chance to study his face. He was fairly good- looking, though Cara had seen many more so. And yet, he made her heart skip a beat like not even the most handsome of men could.

"He's a Ranger!" Cara realized, to herself, very suddenly. Her breath caught in her throat. Memories of her many daydreams and little games came rushing back to her. She hurriedly turned her head away.

Aragorn awoke to see that sweet, innocent, finely-chiseled face turned away from him. Her penetrating, dark, violent eyes were studying the wall opposite him.

"So, you're awake," he said, breaking the silence.

Cara turned back towards him, a little startled. She had been conversing with the birds in the garden just beyond the wall. They had been wary. When she first touched their minds, they had said, 'Command us, already, don't waste our time.' Puzzled, Cara had replied, 'But I don't command anything.' They hadn't believed her until she pointed out that humans couldn't lie mind-to-mind. That has caused an uproar. The birds had been twittering gladly but maddeningly about 'one who wouldn't abuse her abilities.' She had been lost in their chatter, unable to pull her mind away, until Aragorn had spoken.

Shaking her head to clear it of the chatter, she smiled sweetly at Aragorn. She was no longer frightened of *him.* "And so are you," she pointed out.

He smiled back, warmly. "Well, so I am. You pushed yourself to such exhaustion yesterday; I wanted to make sure that you didn't fall ill. I must have dozed off." Again, Cara was touched. (A/N Pull your mind out of the gutter, reader!) "I am called Strider. And you are…?"

"Caraline Avalon."

Aragorn couldn't breathe. His heart pounded painfully against his ribcage. He had suspected, true, but he had never really believed, not until she had spoken her name. "…Caraline…Avalon…?" he managed to whisper.

Cara looked at him oddly. Strider was acting very strangely, indeed. "You may call me Cara, if you wish."

Aragorn nodded gratefully. "Aye, Cara then." He stood up abruptly. "I should go. Have you heard the Elvish song, 'The Eirren Bow-Maiden'?" Cara shook her head. Aragorn nodded again, as if that explained everything and left. Cara stared after him, perplexed

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"How is she?" Aragorn turned at the soft voice of his Elvin love. Arwen stood there, tall and beautiful, in a traditional dress. Aragorn couldn't help but compare her to the tomboyish Cara. He quickly decided that there could be no two females more different.

"Arwen," he took her soft, white hands into his own, "sing 'The Eirren Bow-Maiden' for me, please."

She gave him an odd look, but began to sing in her sweet, bird-like voice:

"Carrying the bow of the Avalons,

From the Eirren tree of Eld,

The last remnant of a tree long gone,

In her small hand she held.

"Eyes a violet not found in any flower,

Her red-brown hair put every deer to shame,

There in the darkest hour,

To the side of good she came.

"The Animal Mind-Speaker, the Empath,

At the side of the most unlikely of friends,

Heedless of the Dark One's wrath,

She shall bring his evil to its end.

"Sweet of face and kind of heart,

Many foul things her young eyes have seen,

To her, the shot of a bow is but an art,

Her name is Caraline."

Aragorn nodded. "I must speak to Elrond. Where is he?"

"On the terrace, speaking with Legolas. But…"

Aragorn kissed her hands briefly and dropped them. Then he spun on his heels and left. Arwen shook her head and sighed. She decided to head back to her rooms to finish her sewing.

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"Elrond, I must speak with you. It is about the girl who arrived yesterday."

Elrond turned, concern showing on his lordly face. "What is wrong, Aragorn? Is she all right?"

"Her name is Caraline Avalon." Both the fair and dark head shot up in surprise. Both had heard 'The Eirren Bow-Maiden' many times throughout their long lives.

"Are you positive that she is the Bow-Maiden?" Legolas asked, his soft, lilting voice solemn.

Aragorn shook his head. "She certainly fits the description, and she *was* carrying a bow, but nothing is certain these days. I did not stay long enough to find out more."

Elrond pondered for a brief moment, then nodded once. "Do not tell anyone about this, not until we are more certain. Address her by a nickname, if you must. In the meantime, find out what you can; why she came, about her bow, anything that might help."

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Aragorn found Cara in one of Rivendell's many gardens. He was surprised; this particular one was his favorite. This one had been allowed to grow freely. Many thought that it was too wild. "Gardens should be tame," they said. "You can go anywhere to find wild." All the same, it was better for Aragorn, who had never liked the crowds frequenting the other gardens. Crowds made him nervous.

"I never thought I would find you here," he remarked.

Cara looked up at him and grinned mischeviously. "What? Did you expect me to be with the other maidens, simpering and sewing?" She placed her hands over her heart and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"No," Aragorn laughed. "Not after that entrance you made yesterday." Cara flushed slightly and Aragorn sobered. "That was a dangerous thing you did, traveling alone. Especially in these dark times."

Cara looked at him, violet eyes piercing. "I realized that soon after I started out. 'Twas better than going home. And I wasn't traveling alone. I had a guide." As she spoke, a red-gold hawk that Aragorn vaguely remembered seeing, before noticing Cara at their arrival, alighted on her shoulder. "Meet Cayire, my guide." She stroked his feathers gently.

"Was life really that horrible that you left the safety of your home?" Aragorn asked, a bit shaken by the hawk-as-guide thing.

Cara looked away. Aragorn noticed that she was clutching her bow (which he hadn't noticed before) so hard that her knuckles were white. Cayire nipped her ear affectionately. 'You don't have to tell him everything,' his cool, wind-like voice told her. "It wasn't- so bad, b- before, m-my father died." She spoke haltingly, and Aragorn felt a deep sympathy for the girl.

"But surely, there was someone among your siblings…?"

Cara smiled faintly; there was no merriment in that smile. It was chilling. "I was the black sheep of my family. My sisters were disgusted with me. My brothers rejected me, especially the eldest, Jaylor. He took lessons from my stepfather, I think. Willem was okay, but he worked in the fields most of the time. My stepfather was horrid. He…" Cara hesitated, unsure of how to explain that year of torment, unsure why she wanted to explain it to a total stranger. "Please, let's move on to a cheerier subject." She felt the weight of his sympathy and wasn't very comfortable shouldering it.

A/N Wow. That was kind of long. Took me long enough to type it! lol! Mayhaps it was cause I listened to Dave Matthews Band instead of Five For Fighting. I have too many CDs to listen to America Town non-stop! Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Hehehe. What happens next? That's for Arra to decide *grins evilly*.