Author's Note: Hey guys! If you haven't already read the new prologue, you can always do that! But I'll say what I said there just in case! I wasn't really happy with the way the story was going and I seriously had no idea how to continue it. I thought it wasn't the best beginning so I decided to restart it! I hope you guys like it!

Reviews, favorites and or follows are always welcome guys!

Chapter I

Why must there always be pain?

She groaned as she struggled to sit up. As she did so the parallel gashes that had lacerated her stomach stretched with the movement, and it took all her will power to not collapse in pain again.

The ground around her was littered with corpses, draped haphazardly along the terrain in various poses of death. The earth beneath them red with the fresh blood that drained from their bodies, if what remained of them could even be called that.

They were all dead.

But there was nothing left of what they had once been. Here and there were bits and pieces of metal that had been fused together in hapless shapes, concealing the burnt and shriveled body that had once been their owner. Those bodies that had no armor were a horrifying sight to see for what was left of them was black and charred, as if it had been ravaged by dragon's fire.

She had done of all of this.

She had lost control again.

Why do I lose control? Why am I so angry?

In truth, the moments leading up to her loss of control were the worst. Because it was then that she fully realized what had happened, and it was then that she finally realized what she had lost.

And with that came unimaginable pain.

And after the pain, came the anger. And after that came the cold darkness.

Is it because I care? Is it because I loved him?

She had known suffering in her life.

Why do let myself care so much?

She knew it better than she had any right to.

Why do I make everything harder for myself?

She had seen more battles than she could count. She had seen armies fall before her very eyes.

But I still don't understand.

And yet none had hurt as badly as this.

Watching thousands of soldiers march to their deaths had not hurt her as badly as this loss.

Her soul was shattering again before her very eyes.

Why did he have to do that?

As she hunched over in pain, she could not help the tears that streamed down her face, or the silent sobs that she choked upon.

And though the pain wracked her body in violent spasms that limited all possible movement, she did not cry because of it.

She cried because she thought she had finally found peace. She thought she had found respite from the horrors that had been her life. She cried because she had thought that she could finally pick up the pieces of her broken soul and start again. But this is not what had come to pass.

She had not found renewal. All that she had found was pain.

And so she cried for what she had lost.

She had lost her counselor, her supporter. She had lost one of her dearest friends.

Why? Why did he have to betray me?

But what they had was no more. He had ended it between them the moment he formed an alliance with her enemy.

He had ended it the moment he set his new armies out to kill her.

He is my enemy now.

But how? How in sweet Valar's name did he expect her to accept this?

No

Everyone else would accept the truth and move on.

He is my enemy now.

But how do you pick up the pieces of your shattered soul and begin again? How do you move on from such heartbreak?

She didn't understand how.

Especially since she had never truly healed to begin with.

No.

She knew that it was impossible for her to accept the truth. There would always be a part of her that would remember what they had had before in their friendship.

If confronted by him again, she knew that she would not be able to bring herself to kill him. The memories they shared would forever hold her back.

So I should forget. I have to forget. I cannot let it bother me. He is my enemy now.

With this last thought, she resigned herself to indifference. She pushed back all the memories that flooded her mind and the emotions the clouded her reason and locked them away where they could not harm her.

She had no time to cry over her loss.

She was wounded.

I cannot heal myself. Not now. Not after what happened. I cannot trust myself.

She needed help.

She needed to be strong.

It is not that far. I can make it.

She pulled herself to her feet, the wounds on her stomach stretching again with the effort. She grimaced at the pain but willed herself not to hunch over to ease it.

Warg claws cut deep enough. She did not need to stretch the wounds any further. To do so would speed up the infection that was sure to follow. Taking her cloak, she quickly wrapped it around her midsection to help stop the flow of blood, cursing her stupidity for not thinking to bring bandages in case something like this happened.

I would not have needed them at any other time though. I was relying on my own strength, and I failed.

She glanced around, trying not to grimace as her eyes fell on the massacre that lay before her.

Shoot, where are my swords?

One would think that at her age she would be able to keep track of her weapons. But noooo, she would forget where she put them as soon as she laid them down.

Sweet Mahal why do I have to lose them now?

The last thing she wanted to do was search through the bloody terrain in search of them, but she could not very well leave them behind.

Why do I have to be so stupid?

Steeling her resolve she carefully picked her way through the mangled corpses, trying to avoid touching any of it. In that aspect she failed miserably.

Ugh.

She hated orcs, but she hated their dead, bloody, mangled corpses even more.

Thank Mahal!

Without thinking she quickly bent down to retrieve her swords from the body of a warg, but the action put an unnecessary amount of stress on her newest wounds, sending a spasm of pain rippling throughout her whole body.

Straightening back up and clutching her stomach, she grimaced and waited for the pain to pass.

I do not have time for this!

Instead of bending over, she knelt down to retrieve her swords.

Ugh.

She grimaced when she saw the blood that marred the blades, but she did not have time to clean them off. She needed to leave.

Now.

Replacing her swords in their proper places, she started out towards the nearest civilization that she knew of.

Rivendell.

"Have you received any word from her?"

Lord Elrond turned away from the edge of the balcony from where he had been watching the reunion of the four hobbits. The friendship and warmth that he could feel radiating from their auras was a small light in a world that was steadily growing darker. Even the esteemed elf lord could not help the small smile that graced his face as he watched the merry gathering.

"What was that?" he asked as he walked past Gandalf towards the library, Gandalf following behind automatically.

"I asked have you received any word from her." He repeated.

Lord Elrond frowned. "I would have told you if I did." In truth, he had not seen hide nor hair of her for over about two years now.

"Do you think she knows of Saruman's betrayal?"

"It is possible. Her wanderings always take her to Fanghorn, and to Isengard. She has always been very fond of that area," he paused a minute before adding, "She will not take the news well."

Gandalf could not help the chuckle that escaped his lips, "That is an understatement."

"Perhaps," Lord Elrond murmured. But he knew that what Gandalf said was most likely true. She wouldn't take it well, especially since she had always been good friends with the wizard. Although some always thought that there was more going on than a simple 'friendship' between them, but that idea was simply ludicrous.

If he were willing to admit it, Lord Elrond might have mentioned that he was afraid of her reaction. Her emotions were like an intricate balance: one small movement and the whole thing would be destroyed. And for this reason, he hoped beyond hopes that the news would not be the movement that would send her emotional balance spiraling out of control. Only the Valar knows what would happen then.

"Though," he finally murmured, "I pray that it is not so."

Gandalf nodded his head in agreement, "You know, she has been doing better. She has not been lashing out as much anymore."

"But is it enough Gandalf?" Elrond asked as he turned around to face his friend, "With the days growing darker, with the discovery of the ring, will being able to contain her anger be enough?"

"We can only hope I suppose," Gandalf murmured, "And place our trust in her strength of mind and will. She is not one to fall easily."

"That may be true, but we must think of what is at stake here Gandalf. If she does not learn to control it she is a danger to us all."

"Do you put so little faith in her?"

"No," Elrond murmured turning away, a concerned frown etched onto his face, "I trust her with my life. I did raise her you know."

"I know."

"She is like my daughter Gandalf. I will not lose her to this, not after all that we have been through."

"Does she know yet?"

"Know what?" Elrond asked, his face drawing together into a perturbed expression.

"The truth?"

Lord Elrond did not look happy about the path that the subject was taking. And though he tried to keep his outward appearance calm and collected, mentally he was anything but calm. "Does she need to know? She believes I am her father, can we not keep her in ignorance for the time being?"

"Mellon with the days, as you said, growing darker the chances that she will discover the truth from another are increasing. Would you rather she were told by him? Or would you rather tell her yourself?"

Elrond sighed, his features rearranging themselves into a saddened expression that accurately reflected how he felt at that moment. The anguish apparent made Gandalf wince in sympathy. "I cannot do it Gandalf. I cannot tell her that everything she has ever known has been a lie."

"Would you rather remain in ignorance? If you were in her situation?"

Elrond thought about what he had said and frowned when he found himself agreeing with Gandalf. He would want to be told the truth.

But at the same time he was afraid to tell her the truth. He was afraid she would react poorly to the secret they had kept so long, and he feared that her anger and resentment would turn on them. He could not bear the thought of her hating him for this, when he only did it to protect her. He could not bear watching her soul crumble again, only to be the cause of it.

Yes, he knew that he could never do it.

"Then you tell her," Lord Elrond said as he turned away, ending the conversation, "For I will not do it."

"As you wish," Gandalf murmured, his eyes following Lord Elrond as he left the room.

"I don't understand why they're so upset! It's only a couple of cakes!" Merry yelled up to Pippin as they sprinted through the halls of Rivendell, the cooks fast upon their heels.

"And the wine too," Pippin tossed over his shoulder as he held up a small cask and grinned, "We were only hungry, that's all!"

"Yes Pippin!" Merry agreed hastily as he urged him to run faster. They quickly turned at a corner and continued running down completely random paths, "My point is they're clearly overreactin'!"

"Run!"

The gallivanting chase twisted and turned through the many halls of Rivendell, until it finally took them into the outlying gardens. "Come on Pippin!" Merry called as he quickly jumped up and caught the branch of a tree, "Up here!"

Pippin, seeing his idea quickly scampered up the tree and sat himself down on a larger branch. Merry quickly shushed him, as three elves came running down the path speaking in hurried elvish.

They paused briefly under the tree, gesturing wildly to each other before continuing off in the same direction.

The two hobbits watched with matching grins as the elves quickly disappeared around the corner. "You know," began Pippin, until he was quickly cut off by Merry shushing him.

"But.."

"Shush! Will you!" Merry said smacking him lightly on the arm, "They can probably still hear us!" Pippin humphed before turning back to look at the now empty path.

They remained silent for a few more minutes, straining their ears to catch any sound of approaching footsteps. To their great pleasure, they heard nothing. "They're long gone!" Pippin laughed with glee as he held aloft his prize.

"Now these," Merry smiled as he unwrapped the cakes they had swiped from the kitchen, "Were well worth the trouble."

"Do you think we should share them with Frodo and Sam?" Pippin asked as he bit into his own cake.

"Nah," Merry spoke through a full mouth, "They wouldn't be able to appreciate what we went through to get them."

Pippin nodded his assent before taking another bite full of cake, "I must say, that this is superb!"

The two continued laughing and eating and eating and laughing until they ate every single cake they had, shall we say 'borrowed'.

"We should do that again!" Merry laughed patting his now full stomach in satisfaction.

"Do you think we could–"

"Shhh!" Merry quickly covered up Pippin's mouth, effectively cutting him off. "Someone's coming!" he hissed quietly, removing his hand.

Pippin quieted down and they both soon heard someone coming down the path. Within a few minutes another elf came into view on the path.

To their surprise, she had not been one of the elves that had been chasing them earlier. She seemed travel-worn, her clothes being all torn and muddy and her dark hair a mess of twigs and leaves. "Is she drunk?" whispered Pippin, as he watched her stumble along the path. She looked as if she could fall over at any second.

Merry shook his head. He watched as she clutched at her midsection as a grimace made its way to her face. "I think she's hurt," he whispered, his eyes widening as she dropped to one knee.

"Merry?" Pippin glanced over at his friend only to see him quickly climbing down the tree, "Merry!"

By that time Merry had his feet on solid ground again and was running over to the elf. "Are you alright?" he asked, slightly breathless as he knelt down beside the elf.

He struggled to hold back a gasp when she raised her head to look at him. She was most certainly not alright. Her face was contorted in a grimace of pain, and she had a long gash along her forehead that just missed a small blue crystal that was set there. Her face was covered completely in dirt and blood, so much so that you could hardly tell what color her skin would be underneath.

"Here," he said quickly, moving to her side and putting her hand on his shoulder, "You can lean your weight on me."

"Thank you master hobbit," she gasped as she struggled to stand up with the hobbit's help, still clutching her midsection.

"Merry," he told her, "My name is Merry."

The she elf smiled, sort of. It was more like a strained grimace that was supposed to look like a smile. "I am Alyss," she whispered, her voice laced with pain.

"Pippin!" he called, the other hobbit quickly climbing down from the tree. Well, actually, he fell half the distance but that doesn't really matter. "Pippin! Go get help now!"

Pippin immediately jumped up and ran down the path back towards Rivendell, nearly tripping on a stray stone in his haste. "I'm going!"

"Find," the elf gasped, "Lord Elrond."

"Will do!" called Pippin over his shoulder as he disappeared around the bend.

"What happened to you?" Merry asked as he helped Alyss walk along the best she could.

She grimaced at his question unsure of how to answer him. "Ambush," she said simply.

"Ambush?"

"Orcs," Alyss said nearly spitting out the words, her hatred for the wretched kind seeping into her words.

Merry fell silent at her words, not exactly sure how to respond. Despite the dangers he had faced in the past couple of weeks, he had never really seen an orc. He knew nothing of them and what they were capable of. And now, here was this poor elf barely able to stand upright after an ambush from the foul creatures. He knew he had live a sheltered life in the Shire, but now he wondered just how naïve they had all been there. Never once had he thought of what others were doing to keep his home safe.

"I am sorry," he whispered. And he was sorry. Not just for the orc attack, but also for not realizing what others were going through in a world that he was beginning to realize was not just fun and games.

She did not answer him in return, and he noticed with a start that her face was now a pale ashen color. Her grip on his shoulder was steadily growing looser too.

"Come on Pippin," he muttered to himself, "Hurry up!" He was afraid that she wasn't going to last much longer.

"Come on Pip, faster!" he urged himself on, sprinting through the halls of Rivendell searching in vain for someone who knew where Lord Elrond was.

To his misfortune however, he had not seen a single soul since he reentered.

"This is pointless!" He muttered as he paused in order to catch his breath, "I'm going to get hopelessly lost in here and then I'll never be able to help anyone!"

As he looked around, trying to get his bearings he finally realized where he was: he was right outside Lord Elrond's library. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head that made a mischievous smirk light up his face. Taking a deep breath, he threw back his head and screamed, "LORD ELROND! MERRY IS THREATENING TO DESTROY YOUR LIBRARY!" at the top of his lungs.

"That should get them over here within seconds," he smirked, clearly very pleased with himself.

And he was quite right in that assumption. Within seconds he heard the pounding of feet coming from either direction down the hall way. Lord Elrond was the first to show up, quickly followed from behind by Gandalf. Aragorn also managed to get there in a reasonable amount of time too, showing up about a minute behind a VERY livid Elrond.

"Peregrin Took!" bellowed Gandalf as he strode out from behind Elrond and took him by the ear, "Just what do you think you're doing!"

"Ow! I'm not, OW, doing anything!" Protested Pippin trying in vain to get away from Gandalf, "I couldn't find any of you, and you need to come quickly! Me and Merry found an elf in the gardens and she's hurt real bad!" He paused to take a breath before continuing, "So Merry stayed with her and sent me ahead to come find the rest of you so you could come back and help her! She didn't look too good either, so you really have to come now!"

Elrond, Gandalf and Aragorn stared blankly at Pippin for a few minutes, trying to comprehend what he had just said. He spoke so quickly that it all jumbled together to them. "What?"

"UGH!" Pippin yelled in frustration finally pushing Gandalf's hand away from his tender ear. He started rubbing it to try and bring some feeling back into it, "Me and Merry found an elf and she's HURT!"

"What did she look like?" asked Lord Elrond quickly before Pippin could continue.

"She had really dark hair with white streaks in it, I think. OH! And she had a crystal in her forehead!"

"Where did you say they were again?" Gandalf asked, the concern he felt showing in his tone of voice.

"In the outer gardens! You have to hurry! She didn't look good at all!"

"Why in the blazes did she not heal herself?" Lord Elrond muttered as he quickly took off to the direction of the gardens, "Is she trying to get herself killed?"

He left just about everyone behind in the dust in his haste to get to Alyss. Later he was told he nearly ran over three elves in his little sprint, but at the time he thought of nothing but getting there in time.

"How in the sweet Valar's name did she think it was a good idea to come HERE to be healed?" he muttered to himself, along with a few choice words that will not be repeated.

In this matter he quickly made his way through the halls and to the gardens, where he found Merry struggling to support the fading Alyss. They had made barely any progress in the time it took Pippin to find everyone else.

"Alyss!" Elrond called, quickly hurrying to her side and lifting her up in his arms, "What did you do this time? (In elvish)"

"Ada," she groaned a small smile gracing her lips, "Why do you always blame me? I was an innocent bystander."

"For some reason I do not believe that is all that happened." Alyss tried to reply to him but found that she no longer had the strength to do so, let alone keep herself upright in his arms. Lord Elrond quickly shook her awake as her head started to loll to the side. "We will save this argument for later, and you should expect a full reprimand once you are feeling better."

"Oh joy," she moaned as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

CLIFF HANGER...sort of...don't worry the next chapter will be coming...REVIEW