Disclaimer: I do not own this. Mairead and Danerun are the only things/ideas I have any claim to. The rest is Tolkien's, not mine.

Characters: Mairead, passing reference to Danerun.

Summary: This chapter is about Mairead's first month in exile. Wandering about in the wilderness to the north of Arnor/the Shire.

A/N: First off, in case no one noticed, I changed the name of the main character. Sorry, I'm a perfectionist when it comes to that. I also changed the title, so, apologies if that made it hard to find this again. Yet again, the anal-ness coming out. =/

Glossary of Elvish in this piece:

Ada: Mother

Aiya: Ow!/Oh!

Sen aman: Bless them (I do not know this for certain, it is a guess from a general knowledge of Elvish that I have picked up. DON'T take my word for it!)

And, again, the last Elvish phrase is translated at the bottom.

Jessalyn, Miriellar and Arein; Thanks for the reviews! Aaaaand, here it is!!

After traveling for a few hours after sundown, Mairead finally stopped and began to search for a place to spend the night. A tall tree with branches starting well above the ground seemed ideal. So, heaving her pack upon a thick branch, she circled the tree looking for the best place to climb up at. Leaping up into the leaves, she grabbed a limb and swung up onto it. Smiling to herself, she looked in and found that the tree had a large bowl in the midst of its trunk, perfect for an Elfmaid to sleep in, maybe even two. Walking across the bowl, she leaned out and pulled up her pack; setting it down, she untied the top and began to pull out the contents. Laughing, she unloaded masses of food.

"A month's worth!" she exclaimed, "Maybe for Danerun it is; there is more than two month's worth for me!" Still chuckling at the size of Danerun's stomach, she moved deeper into the pack. Sighing, she pulled out an elegant dress. Obviously, her maids had packed the bottom half of the pack. She began to yank all the clothing in the bottom out, with many an eye-roll, and a few cocked eyebrows. Finally, at the very bottom, there lay three pairs of leggings, two riding dresses, and four tunics of varying elegance. Pulling these out, she saw one last garment, a beautiful, beaded white gown. Her wedding gown. She nearly wept; but then burst into cynical laughter,

"Always the last word, Ada?" Turning her face back to the West, she cried to the sky, "Where am I to find a lord so worthy here?!?" Then shoved the dress back in the pack, and quickly drawing her hand back with a yelp.

"Ae!" Putting her finger to her mouth, she shifted the dress aside and pulled out a needle and thread.

"Sen aman," Quickly stowing everything back, she kept out the most frivolous dresses, and went to work, ripping the seams. Folding her legs, she nibbled on a few dried fruits as she began sewing the now ruined gowns together.

A few hours later, she had finished, a massive rectangle of fabric now filled the nook in the tree, standing and stretching, Mairead stowed the needle away, and folded the sheet up. Returning to the pack, she investigated further, finding side pockets; within these, she found arrow shafts, and shaft feathers in a leather pouch, and a whetting stone. The whetting stone for the twin fighting blades that now lay beside her, which Danerun had secretly strapped around her waist when bidding her farewell. On the other side of the pack there was a pouch filled with arrow heads and a small knife for making new shafts, all wrapped in her quiver, which she took out and strapped onto the belt holding her blades. Her bow, she had with her. Shifting it all around, she wrapped the belt over her shoulder, and situated the weapons perfectly. Then, lying down on the fabric, she wrapped it around herself and fell asleep.

The next morning, she awoke and ate a small breakfast of way bread and a sip of the honey Elf-draught, climbed down from the tree and continued east; As she would for many days to come.

After four weeks of leisurely marching through sparsely treed grassland, Mairead spotted a forested area to the north, hoping to be sheltered from the sun and Autumn winds, she made for it. Reaching the eaves, she heard the sound of running water, the past two days there had been nowhere to refill her water pouches, and so went in search of the sound's source.

Deep into the trees, she found a glade. A beautiful, green light filtered through the trees, birds sang above her head. Her tired spirits lifted. Filling her bottles, she considered the pool the stream fed. Bathing was a pleasure that had been left behind upon being exiled. Smiling, she decided nigh a month was quite long enough to be without a bath, and quickly began to undress.

Giggling and splashing, Mairead swam about the pool, enjoying the cold, but not shockingly so, water running over her body. Her clothes she had washed out and were drying beside a small fire she had built on the waters edge. Taking a deep breath, she submerged her self, settling to the bottom. She loved the water, and always had, as a child, when her people still visited the shores near the Grey Havens, she would almost never leave the water. He people were great swimmers, a trait and skill passed on through the generations of the formerly sea-faring Elves. Slowly letting her breath out, she finally resurfaced, and as she did, she heard a rustling in the trees on a rock outcropping above the pool, where a small waterfall splashed down. Dismissing the sound as a squirrel, she decided she had been lingering too long in the water.

"If I wait much longer, my brazier will shrink in the heat of the fire!" she scolded herself. She had taken to talking to herself within the past week, missing companionship and the soft musical elf voices she had heard all her life. Slowly walking up the bank, she dried herself off with an extra gown. Wrapping the gown about her, she checked the clothing by the fire. Finding all to be dry, she swiftly put on her tunic, then finding a hole in her leggings, she pulled on a fresh pair and got out her needle. While mending the tear, she began to sing.

When she had broken the thread, she promptly rolled them up and placed the leggings in the pack, then, hoisting it on her back she set off through the forest.

The next day, Mairead noticed around midday that the forest was eerily quiet. There was a closeness in the air, and she felt as if there were eyes upon her at all times. She came upon a meadow that looked as if it was a deer feeding ground, but no sign of the creatures was to be found, and not a bird within hearing.

"That's queer," she muttered to herself, entering the meadow. She looked about the edges for late berries, finding none, she began to cross the field.

Suddenly; she heard behind her, someone following her, spinning around, and reaching for one of her blades, she prepared for attack. But there was nothing there. Lowering her arm, she gave a snort, and thought she was simply being silly. As she turned around to continue on, she saw something black out of the corner of her eye. Swiftly reaching her left arm around for her other blade, she finished the circle and was looking upon what appeared to be a man. It was tall, and wearing black armor, over which was a long, tattered cloak, and at his hip, a long evil looking blade. Mairead gasped, and taking a step back, she took a defensive stance, prepared to run at any moment. The great thing took a step toward her, reaching out a hand in a clawed gauntlet toward her. Swinging a knife at it, she turned to run, but the creature grabbed her around her waist with its right arm, and picking her up, turned her so that she faced it's terrible, helmed face. Struggling fiercely, she attempted another slash at it, but it only knocked the blade from her hands, and squeezed her tighter.

Panting through the pain in her right side, she then swung her long legs towards the being's groin, thinking to herself, /Even if this be the undead, he should well remember the sensation!/ for she felt no real life in this creature. And she guessed rightly, the being shied from her flailing legs, and, distracted by them, loosened its grip. Taking quick action, she thrust her elbow into the crook of its right arm, and when the grip loosened again, she pushed on its shoulder, and swinging her left leg behind it, violently kicked the thing in the back of the head. That blow loosed her from its grasp, and she fell to the ground with a groan. Unhappily, the being was only minutely taken aback by the ferocity of her attack. Raising its head, it began to walk toward her, Mairead felt its menace anger bearing down on her, and the pain in her side grew, until her eyes began to see spots, her head started swimming, and red covered her vision. Before she fell into oblivion, she heard the sound of harness bells.

"Berio nin Melain," she whispered. And Mairead saw no more.

-Valar protect me.