Chapter 2

The sun rising over the tree tops was what woke Mari that next morning. Were it not for this, her tired body could haveeasily rested for several more hours.Slowly, cautiously, she sat up. No greatpain. I guess those were just temporary effects, she thought. Then came a new pain; a pain that ate her from the inside out, wrenching at her heart and soul.

Her entire family was dead. She was never going to see them again.

Memories of the night before poured through her mind and she began to sob again, her whole body convulsing. This went on for nearlyan hour, until she managed to make herself stop. You have to stop, shetold herself. You need to concentrate on surviving now. That's what you were taught, and that's what you will do.

She stood up and turned to her left. There she saw the river she'd heard before she passed out. It was very wide and was forested on the opposite side, much like on the side Mari was situated. She found her pack on the ground a few meters away from her. After a brief look around the area, she wasn't entirely sure the spell had worked. It merely looked as though she'd moved herself to another part of France, which certainly didn't pass for "safe" in any respect of the word.

Wonderful, she thought. Her feelings of doubt subsided however, as she clutched her rosary. Her grandmother had never misled her before. "The spell has worked," she affirmed out loud, attempting to convince herself. "But where am I?"

As she thought these things, Mari realized she was still very wet from her "swim" in the stream from trying to escape the dogs. According to the laws of nature, being wet in late fall meant she should feel cold, but she noticed how warm the air was. "This isn't right," she concluded.

She looked to her right, at the great river again. If she looked forward she could see it flow on and on, with no sign of it's end in sight. Mariknew that most rivers tended to run south, meaning that to her right was west, to her left was east, and behind her was north. Confirming this was the direction the sun had been rising from. It was now high in the sky; about mid day.

Though it was warm out and she wasn't cold, being wet still wasn't very comfortable. As far as she could judge, there were no other people around, so she began to strip off her outer layers of clothes and lay them on the grass to dry. This was a much longer process than it normally would have been because of the number of sets of clothes she was wearing. In total she had been wearing five skirts, three tops, a thin slip, a light night gown, stockings, and boots. She'd done this in order to make space for things in her bag that would have otherwise been used for clothes. After removing her boots, stockings, and all her wet clothes, Mari was left standing in her undergarments.

Around her legs, much like garter belts, were two small holsters containing small throwing daggers she could use should some one attack her. The one on her left leg was located high on her thigh, while the other on her right leg was a few inches above her knee. This placement of the two holsters made it easier to move her legs when running.

Mari thought it a good idea to furtherinspect her surroundings. The best way to go about it, she thought, would be to climb the tallest climbable tree. From the top of it she would be able to see for miles around.

As she searched the bows of the trees for limbs she could easily grasp, something caught her eye. From afar, it looked like a knot in a tree trunk, except that it sparkled a familiar green color. Taking a closer look, Mari discovered that it was a green stone that had been embedded into the trunk of a very large tree. In fact, it was the same type of stone as the one strung to her rosary; it had the same beautiful luster and when she ran her finger tips over it she found that it had the same smooth texture. Beneath it were words carved in the ancient text; the language that Mari had used to perform the spell. They read:

You are now far from where you started

And far from where you'll end;

From your origins you have departed

And here your life shall you spend.

Granddaughter, you have made it!

You've completed the spell you cast!

Now take the day and seize it

And every day until your last.

"Granddaughter? My grandmother wrote this?" she thought, dumbfounded. "That means she was here! She knew the spell would work! I'm not in France any more!"

With complete reassurance, Mari sped up to the top of the tree, but before doing so she took one of her daggers and pried the stone from the tree. As not to lose it, she placed it in one of the small pockets on her holster. (She usually kept special seeds there and other small things she found.) Once at the top of the tree, she was amazed by what she saw. The river did indeed go on forever, or at least it looked that way. It would turn a bit every now and again, but stayed mostly straight, disappearing into the horizon. Off in an easterly and northeasterly direction were flat plains that also stretched out as far as the eye could see.

North, on the horizon, were white, snow capped mountains, just barely visible to the naked eye. Most of the west was covered in dense forest for many miles, up until a point where a vast mountain range crossed the land. Far to the east were large, dark, and ominous mountains. The mere sight of them chilled Mari to the bone. She did her best to overt her gaze from them.

Also east, (not nearly as far as the dark mountains), was a road that looked almost as long as the river, possessing the same great straightness. It lay a mile or so away from where she stood perched in the tree. About three miles up the road was a group of people on horse back. Mari thought it to be the strangest thing. There was no hint of a stable or any other structure where a horse could be kept. Then it hit her that they were on a road. They must be traveling, she concluded, but then back tracked. Traveling? Who travels on horse now a days?

Mari tried to make out who they were. All she was able to distinguish was that they were all men. Wonderful, she thought. There's a pack of strange men near by. I'm not willing to find out if they're the type that would help or harm me. I think I'll just hide here until they pass this part of the wood. Upon making her decision, she climbed down from the tall tree. By the time she reached the bottom, her clothes were all dry, so she dressed herself and started to fold the extra sets of clothes. To wear, she'd chosen the lightest of her skirts and a top. Her shawl she wrapped tightly around her waist like a sash. She then stuffed all that she could into her bag, while the rest she rolled inside her mat.

Just as she strapped her mat to her bag, an annoyed voice boomed, "Are you dressed yet?"

She looked up and saw two eyes and a mouth staring down at her from a tree. She let lose a scream that echoed in the silence of the wood, causing a flock of small birds to flee above the tree tops. "Be quiet, you loud thing!"

Mari fell backward, onto her bottom, silenced and dumbstruck by the creature's command.

"That's better," it said with a sigh of relief. It soon noticed how frightened and upset the young human in front of it had become. She was visibly shaking and her eyes had grown to the size of saucers. The tree creature tried to console her.

"Calm down boy," it said, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I...I'm a woman," she said, her voice shaking in fear.

"What?"

"A..a girl."

"Are you? All you humans look alike to me! But just the same, calm down, please."

"You mean, you're not going to eat me or anything?" she questioned.

"No! Of course not!"

Once the tree creature affirmed that it wasn't a threat some of her courage came back to her, though not entirely. After all, the creature was very intimidating.

"Where do you get off scaring me like that!" she yelled, still very scared. "I nearly had a heart attack! What's wrong with you? That was so rude!"

"Whoa there!" the creature boomed, once again silencing Mari. "Slow down, young one! I didn't mean to frighten you. I simply wanted to know if you were done changing so that I didn't have to shield my eyes any more. I only wanted to give you your privacy. So hasty you young humans can be..."

She thought for a moment and took in what just happened. "Oh," she said, not really knowing what else to say. What does one say to a tree?she wondered.She found her voice and continued. "I forgive you, then. It's just that I've never seen a talking tree before. It's quite a frightening thing to see for the first time."

"I wouldn't really know, but I suppose you're right. However, I'm not a tree, mind you, I'm an Ent."

"I see... And might you know where I am, Ent?"

"I have a name you know!" he boomed again.

"Sorry!" she apologized quickly, not wasting to offend the Ent.. "What is it?" she asked meekly.

"Treebeard."

"That's a...fine name." She had wanted to say odd name, but she didn't want to change the intentions of this terribly intimidating creature. "So, Treebeard," she emphasized his name, "Might you know where I am?"

"Well, I have only been as far as the edge of these woods my whole life. I only know where this is in relation to a few places. What I can say is that you are far south of Isenguard and west of the Anduin River, and that the name of this place is Fangorn Forest."

"Hmmm. I see." None of this information could very well help her, but it was a start.

"You know, that was quite a scream before! I wouldn't be surprised if it was heard for miles around, not that there would be any one to hear..."

Mari froze. "Um, excuse me."

"Yes?"

"Hypothetically speaking, is there any one within miles of here I should be worried of?"

"No. Nothing lives near here, save I and others of my kind. Why? Did you see someone?"

"I did. When I was up the tree, I saw five men on horse back on the road. By now they should be less than a mile from here."

"On the road!" exclaimed the ent. "Nothing of a good sort ever travels that road, only thieves and rouges. They surely heard you, and if they did they probably picked up their pace. You'd best hide!"

Not taking the time to think about the fact that a tree was giving her instructions, she buried her bag under a pile of leaves near the trunk of a tree. "Thank you for your help," she said, but when she turned around she realized that the ent had vanished. The idea of a vanishing, talking tree-thing phased her for a moment before she sprung up the nearest tree to hide. She reached under her skirt and pulled two knives from the holster above her right knee and waited to see if any one would come.

For a few minutes all she could hear was the sound of the river's rushing water. The Anduin, she thought. It means 'Great River' in the ancient tongue.

Soon she could hear soft hoof beats coming from behind her. She tensed and held her breath. Her heart beat hard inside her chest and into her back. As one of the men on horse back came into view below her, the grip on her knives loosened, ready to let them fly. The sight she saw was strange, to say the least.

The horse was exceptionally beautiful, but normal enough, its rider however, was far from average. The man mounted had a mane nearly as long as that of his horse. He faced the river staying perfectly still and silent, as if listening for something. For a moment she feared he could hear the loud pounding of her heart. Slowly he steered his horse to the left, now facing south.

Again, he was still and silent; listening. Mari could now see his profile and noticed that two long braids of his hazel hair framed his face. His profile showed a man from days of old. His torso was clothed in a gray knit tunic, along with a brown felt cowl with the hood thrown off; brown britches of soft leather showed strong legs, accustomed to riding. All 'round, he was hansom; the hilted sword at his side suggested that he was also dangerous.

Please don't let him see me, she wished with all her might. In accordance with her fantastic luck, he turned his horse again and immediately saw her.

Wonderful, she thought.

Mari's right hand sent one of her knives sailing through the air; her target was his head.

The rider tensed. His horse, sensing this, reared back on its hind legs out of fear. Due to the added height of the horse, the knife missed his head and lodged itself right between his left shoulder and collar bone. He cried out in pain as the knife hit and was thrown from to the ground from atop his saddle.

Almost instantly, she could hear the hard hoof beats of his companions coming to his aid. She leaped down from the tree and eyed the man on the ground as his horse trotted in nervous circles around his body, nudging his leg with its nose every now and then. The only sign of motion coming from him were the heavy breaths rising from his chest. Not waiting for the others to arrive, she took off into the forest, not knowing where she was headed.

Oh this is a safe place, indeed, she thought as she ran, recalling the words of her grandmother.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, but that didn't seem to be good enough because someone she hadn't seen before grabbed her from behind.

"Uhgah!" she cried out as he tackled her to the ground. Mari tried to break free of his grip, but he was too strong, and it was far too difficult to do while lying on her face. So she struggled and managed to roll over so that his back was on the ground and her weight was on him. Taking the knife that she still had in her left hand, she sliced across his left fore arm.

He cried out into her ear, leaving her nearly deaf. In his momentary laps, he let go of her, at which pointshe took the opportunity to run. As she began to run she heard the man yell out to her in another language. A few steps later she felt a hand claw the back of her shirt a few times before he had a good hold of her. He pulled her back slightly, but she twisted and turned in his grip, so much so that when he let go she spun around. She found herself face to face with a tall blond man, similar in appearance to the first on horse back, except for the unnatural expression of fury on his face. This was when he grabbed her again and pushed her on her back. He then straddled and sat on her, holding her wrists down above her head.

She kicked and shouted, but it did no good. "Let me go! Let me go, you fuck!" she screamed at him in French. He looked at her quizzically when she spoke. It was then Mari realized that he didn't understand what she was saying. It had never occurred to her that the people of this land didn't speak French. Then how was I could speak to the ent? she wondered.

While it was apparent that her words had confused him, he had understood their general sentiment and there was now more anger than anything else written on his face. He shouted to her in the language again and grew frustrated when she didn't understand and instead continued to struggle and cursed in French. This apparently grew to be too much for him, so finally he slapped her hard across the face. In return she spat at him, landing a wad of saliva just below his right eye. This was when she heard words of the ancient tongue.

"Where did she go," called one of two men approaching.

"I have her," called back the man on top of her.

"What have you gotten out of her?" asked the other who had not spoken yet.

"Nothing," replied the man on top of her, turning to the one questioning. "All she does is babble non-sense... and scream. Loudly."

"Is it possible that she's mad?" asked one of them.

As they spoke Mari was still and had stopped shouting. "You speak the Tongue?" she asked in the ancient words.

Three sets of eyes grew wide with wonder, but quickly the man sitting on her grew angry again. "How is it you speak Sindarin," he demanded as he shook her once.

Her lip quivered in fear and tears began to well up in her eyes. What are these people going to do to me? she thought, terrified.

"Answer me," he yelled at her, shaking her body again.

"M...m...my grandmother taught me," she said.

"Who was she?"

"They called her Janne the wise." Mari no longer fought back. If these men spoke "Sindarin", as they called it, then they were no ordinary men, and perhaps much more dangerous than she originally thought. Fear silenced her as she squinted her eyes shut to hold back her tears.

"Whether she speaks Sindarian or not is of no importance now," said one of the men at his side. "Why did you try to kill Milhir!"

"I was afraid he was going to hurt me."

"Why would you think that," asked the other man.

"Because, nothing of the good sort ever travels the road," she said, quoting Treebeard, "And it seems his companions are no better." She hadstuggled enough to sit up, but was quickly slammed back down. She cried out in pain as she was hit again in the same way as she'd fallen to the ground the night before.

The three men were silent for a moment. Finally, one said, "For the most part that is true, but in recent years the roads have become safer."

"Then why are you trying to violate me?" she asked in a meeker voice.

All three looked astonished. "No one is going to do anything of the sort," said the blond man holding her down.

"Then why are you on top of me?" she asked flatly.

"Because you tried to kill one of my friends!" he shouted.

"Because I thought he was going to rape me!" she shouted back with tears in her eyes feeling a thousand times braver knowing they wouldn't rape her, but still unsure if they wouldn't kill her.

There was another moment of silence. "Legolas, get off her. It's plain she's telling the truth," said one of the men standing.

"Yes, I agree. She seems confused, like she doesn't understand," said the other.

The blond man looked at her annoyed, but complied to his friends' request. He yanked her to her feet along with him. Just as she began to dust herself off, he roughly grabbed her by the arm.

"Let go!" she protested.His grip only grew stronger.

"Stop squirming," he said to her in a harsh way that actually did make her stop for a moment. Turning to the other two men he spoke.

"While it may be true that she was acting out of defense, that still doesn't explain how she can speak Sindarin or what she's doing almost a week's journey from any form of human civilization. It seems more than a coincidence we should stumble upon her, especially considering the reason for our travel."

She looked to the first man who had persuaded her captor to release her. He, as the man on the horse, had long, light brown hair, however, the two braids he had were tied to the back of his head. His kind green eyes gave her a feeling of reassurance. They reminded her of the stone on her rosary. The man standing to his side, however, was blond like Legolas. They're striking features reminded her too much of the idyllic men found on Nazi propaganda posters.

Legolas? Is that his name, she thought. And the man I stabbed... Milhir? What strange names...

The green eyed man then sighed. "Fine," he said to Legolas, "Your worries are justifiable, but we know nothing of her, so please don't treat her like a criminal. If it makes you happy, we can bring her with us. Aragorn might know her, and if he doesn't he'll decide what to do with her."

"All right," said Legolas to the man, still not very pleased by the entire situation. "Come," he said turning to Mari, his voice dripping with disdain "We have to check on your 'attacker'." He began to pull her in the direction of the river before the green eyed man stopped him.

"Wait," he called, "I'd like to speak with her."

"Fine," he said, releasing her and storming off toward the river. The other blond man was at his side.

"Hello," said her savior with a warm smile after the other two men had left. "I am Alidar. Who are you?"

"My name is Mari of the Maonuches."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Mari. Please, allow me to apologize for my hot headed friend. The land he comes from is filled with danger and often times he feels there is evil lurking at every turn. He's also somewhat upset because you cut him."

Mari smiled at his last comment. "Yes, that tends to make people angry," she said sarcastically. This made the man chuckle a bit. She was still very uneasy about every thing and still had no real reason to feel safe, but talking to this man was some how calming. It was something about the sound of his voice.

"Well, that could last for a few days. But don't worry; I'll make sure he doesn't do anything to you."

Do anything? she wondered, growing a little more nervous. What does he mean by that?

"Legolas was right about one thing, though," he continued. "We should check on Milhir."

"Oh goodness! That's right," she exclaimed. "Perhaps there's something I could do to help him."

"I doubt that would be necessary, but let's go."

Alidar jogged back to the river. To keep up with him, Mari had to almost run.

When they arrived, kneeling next to Milhir was the fifth member of the traveling party. Mari was immediately at the other side of the man she had stabbed. The man across from her stopped attending to the wound for a moment and observed her.

"It's her," shouted Milhir in anger, backing away slightly.

"It's all right," said Alidar, calming him, though he still kept giving Mari distrusting sideways glances.

She looked up from his wound and was taken aback by the intense stare that met her. For a moment she became lost in the immense depth of his eyes, until she force herself to blink. "You're a fine healer," was all she could say.

The man gave her a smirk then turned to Alidar who was also smirking.

"Do you know how to treat wounds," he asked in a deep voice.

"Yes, I do," she replied.

"Good. See to Legolas. I think he's bleeding." He said no more to her and turned his attention back to Milhir.

Ah yes. Legolas. While she did hate him, she didn't find that reason enough for him to die of infection. After all, she was willing to forgive and forget; it was just that he was the one being dreadful toward her. Or perhaps he was the only one not deceiving her.

Maybe this will help me get on his good side, she hoped. If there was anything she disliked, it was people being mad at her.

She went to the pile of leaves where she'd burried her bag earlier. Digging it out, she found her box of herbs an salves. She approached Legolas cautiously. He had already rolled up his sleeve and was examining the damage she'd done. Beside him was the other blond haired man, helping him clean the wound.

"What is it," he asked Mari when he noticed her.

"I'd like to clean your friend's arm properly."

"By all means," he said handing her the cloth.

Legolas gave him a look as if he were being handed to Death's clutches. As Mari knelt down next to where he was sitting and reached out to examine him, he ripped his arm away from her and clutched it. Okay, she thought, This is getting annoying.

"I'm not going to let the likes of you handle my arm," he growled at her.

She narrowed her eyes in anger. "Look," she said, "I apologize for doing that to you, but I told you why I did it. Everyone seems to understand but you. Now, would you stop acting like a child and give me your arm!" Mari didn't realize that she had ended up shouting, but everyone else had. They watched, amused, as Legolas handed his arm to her, as if being ordered by his mother.

The cut, she concluded, wasn't deep enough to need to be sewn up, but it did need to be patched. When his arm was finally clean, she opened her box and pulled out a jar of one of her creams.

"What's that," he asked.

"It's a special cream. It will disinfect and heal the cut. There shouldn't be a noticeable scar if I leave enough of it on and keep reapplying."

He watched silently as she rubbed the cream evenly over his skin. She then covered the gash in strips of gauze and wrapped his arm in a bandage to hold the gauze in place. Once she had finished, he examined the wrapping with little satisfaction.

"You're welcome," said Mari, annoyed after too many moments of his silence.

"You're very skilled," said the other blond man next to her.

"Thank you," she said to him with a smile. They began to walk towards Alidar, who was standing a bit away from where Milhir had been propped up against a tree.

He smiled back at her. "My name is Iflaím."

"I'm Mari."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Excuse Legolas. He's grateful, really. Isn't that right?" Legolas walked pass them without acknowledgment. "Or at least, he will be grateful when it heals."

"I suppose," she said, not really believing that he was telling the truth. Just then, they came up to Alidar and Legolas. She looked back to the other injured man. "Will he be okay?"

"Milhir is fine," said Alidar, "Though Elrond thinks it best that he not travel the rest of the day. We'll be making camp here."

"That is good news," said Mari, letting out a breath of relief.

"Yes, it is," responded Alidar walking away, then remembering something and turning back to her. "Oh, Mari, he wants to speak with you."

"Who?" she asked.

"Elrond."

Mari became a little worried once again. Elrond was the last of the five men. The look he'd given her was still haunting her, and now he wanted to talk to her?

She stood aside waiting for him to finish attending to the wound. When he was through he walked up to her, then in a full circle around her, stopping in front of her again.

"Walk with me," he finally said to her.

They walked in silence for a few minutes until they were far from ear shot of the other four men. Mari took this time to observe him. Unlike the others who wore pants or leggings and tunics, he wore a long evergreen robe with gold trimming. This trim was in the pattern of leaves at his cuffs. At his waist was strapped a long sword, cased in an elegant sheath that was covered in silver, much like the band about his head.

"I have yet to learn your name, child," he said.

Normally she would be infuriated if someone called her child, but there was something about the manner in which he said it that she didn't mind.

"I am Mari of the Maonuches," she told him. "I'm told that you're Elrond."

He smirked at her again. "Yes, I am."

"Why do you smile like that? You did it before, too."

"Well," he began, "There are few that would say my name so casually."

"Why is that?"

"Because, I am a king."

Mari was shocked. She couldn't believe she was walking with royalty. "Oh," she said. "Where is your kingdom," she asked, trying to maintain her calm and keep the conversation casual.

"All who speak Sindarin know that!" He turned to her. Almost instantly his tone grew serious and inquisitive. "How is it that you speak Sindarian?"

"My grandmother taught me."

"I'm going to need a little more information from you."

"I'm not sure you'd believe me."

"You'd be surprised by how open minded I can be."

She paused for a moment. "All right. I'll tell you all you want to know, so long as you tell me what I want to know."

Elrond looked a little astonished at her. "Are you bargaining with me?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"There are few that would dare do such a thing."

Things were silent for a moment longer.

"So, do we have a deal?"

He laughed again. "Yes! Yes, we do! Start with how you can know Sindarian and what you're doing here."

So, Mari relayed her tale of how her grandmother had taught her spells and other things in the Sindarian tongue, and how she'd used one such spell and found herself in a strange forest the night before. She told how the ent had told her about the dangers of the road and how it told her to hide. She stopped after the part where she stabbed Milhir.

"I'm truly sorry for hurting those two men."

Elrond laughed again, then moved so that he was standing straight in front of her. "Look at my face," he said. "What do you notice that is different?"

She observed him for a few moments. "Well, you very tall," she said first. "And your eyes."

"What about them?"

"They're...old."

"Yes." He smiled warmly.

"And your ears," she exclaimed, surprised.

"Yes," he said chuckling. "My dear, I must inform you, we are not men."

She let this sink in for a moment, her eyes widening. "Well, if you're not men, then what are you? And where am I where creatures that seem so much like men are not?"

"One question at a time!" He explained how she was now in Middle Earth, near a region called Gondor. "I and my companions are elves."

"Elves!" Mari exclaimed. "This is a world of elves?"

"Not only elves; many other things dwell the the land of Middle Earth." He told her of Elves, and Men, and Dwarfs, and Hobbits, and Ents. He also told of the fouler things, like Yurch. "I believe that answers you question," he said when he was through. "Now, for my next question. Where did you learn to throw with such deadly accuracy?"

Now it was Mari's turn to laugh. "My father taught me," she said. "He wanted me to be able to protect myself."

"From what?"

"From people." Mari began to explain how her people were much despised by the rest of her world because of their way of life. "It seems that in a place like Middle Earth, where there are so many different people and cultures, people would have given more respect to the Gypsy people." She then told about the Nazis, and how they were annihilating her people and others as she spoke. "That's why I came here," she finished, "To escape the Nazis."

"These Naht-Zees must be horrible creatures to do such things.

"No," she said, mournfully. "That is the saddest part. They are men. Just men..."

"And your family? Did they escape to Middle Earth?"

At the mention of her loved ones, silent tears began to gather in her eyes. "They were taken."

"I'm sorry," he said, wiping her tears. "It must be very hard for you to be alone now; as you told me, you've always traveled in caravans, am I right?"

"Yes. I'm afraid finding my way through this land alone will prove to be some task."

"Well, you shan't have to."

"What do you mean?"

"Alidar told you that you're coming with us to see Aragorn, did he not?"

"Briefly. And I thought he was just saying that to calm Legolas. Who is this Aragorn, and what right had he to decide what becomes of me? What if I refuse to go; will you take me as some sort of prisoner?"

"You never cease to amaze me with your directness," he said bluntly. "First of all, yes, it was mostly to calm Legolas. Second, Aragorn is the king of Gondor. He is a fair and just man and will only want to help you in any way he can. Besides that, it is much safer for you to be traveling with my party. As I told you before, many evil things live in Middle Earth as well, and you cannot ask for better luck than to run into a group of elves, especially these. Lastly, if you'd like to look at it as being held prisoner then that is your choice, but you are coming with us whether you want to or not." A stillness followed his words, a stillness that stretched throughout the wood, almost as if everything in the forest had stopped.

"All right," she said after a minute of the quiet. "At least tell me why it is we're headed for Gondor in the first place."

"We are invited guests to his wedding. He is marrying my daughter, Arewen, and I am to conduct the ceremony."

"Congratulations," she said civilly, still in a fury over her prisoner status.

"Thank you," he said with the truest of sincerity. He looked up at the sky, then back to Mari. "We have learned much from each other over these past few hours, but the sun is setting. We should return to camp before night falls."

The elf and the young woman walked back to the camp site. It had gotten to be some what cooler, so she was relived to find that a fire had been started. The others sat around the fire, laughing and joking, except for Milhir, who was seated at the base of the same tree as before, now with his eyes closed. The elves hushed as Elrond's presence became known. He approached the fire with Mari at his side. Pulling a pipe from his robe he said, "I'll be at the river's bank." He lit the pipe and walked off to the shore. As he walked away, conversation started again.

It was only now that she realized she still had her box with her. She'd been clutching it for dear life all the while she spoke with Elrond. After putting it away in her bag, she quietly walked over to Milhir and knelt down next to him, tucking her skirt under her legs.

He opened his eyes and turned to her. "You walk very quietly for a human."

"I suppose so," she replied, not quite knowing if he had complimented or insulted her. "I'm so sorry for doing this to you," she said, gesturing toward his bandage. "It's just that I thought..."

He cut her off. "Alidar told me everything. I forgive you."

She was astounded. "Just like that? You don't even care that I wanted to kill you?"

"Some of my best friendships have started with me trying to kill someone!" This made her laugh a little. "You very good with those daggers, you know; a fair aim you have."

"I was aiming for your head."

"Yes, but I have astonishing luck."

This made her laugh a bit louder, catching the attention of the others around the fire.

"What are you two laughing about," probed Alidar.

"I hope you're not talking about us," quipped Iflaím

"Nothing of the sort," Milhir called back.

"How would your wife feel if she knew you were off charming young mortal girls," teased Alidar.

"Ach! What that she-elf doesn't know can't hurt her!"

Laughter erupted from everyone, except Legolas, who had been scowling ever since Mari and Elrond returned. "Come sit by the fire," Alidar called to her.

"It's good to have your forgiveness," she said to Milhir before she went over to the others, sitting herself between Iflaím and Alidar, and across from Legolas. She could she him just beyond the tips of the flames. Everything about the way he looked at her was cold, from his frozen, set jaw, to the steel blue of his eyes.

"What's wrong with him," she thought. "I nearly killed Milhir, and he's upset over a little scratch?"

"Mari," called someone, interrupting her thoughts. "We were just talking about home. Your home, what is it like?"

"My home, well, I'm not from Middle earth," she said. They all looked at her in amazement.

"Where are you from, then," asked Iflaím.

"Another world. It looks much like this one but its so... different. The sounds, the smells, the... inhabitants," she said looking to each one of them, "Are all so new to me here. Even the stars aren't the same," she said as she gazed at the sky. "This world is filled with beauty and wonder. I knew beauty and wonder, for a time, but soon everything became the same, each town like the next, all people like all others..."

The three elves around the fire didn't know what she was talking about at this point, but they did sense the feeling of loss in your voice as she talked about her home.

"Do you miss it?" asked Iflaím again.

"There is nothing for me there. I won't be going back."

All were quiet. They did not question her further.

"Where are all you from?" she finally asked.

"Lord Elrond, Milhir, and I," said Alidar, "Are from the kingdom of Rivendel."

"And Legolas and I," said Iflaím, "Are from his father's kingdom of Mirkwood."

"His father's kingdom?" she asked, confused.

"Yes. His proper title is Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood." Iflaím smirked and took a quick glance at Legolas, as if there were a joke he weren't telling out loud.

"A prince," she said smiling coyly at Legolas. "Hmm. It seems I'm up to my neck in royal blood!"

They all laughed, even Milhir, who she thought had been asleep, joined in the chorus of laughter. Legolas remained as straight faced as ever.

Will he ever smile? she wondered.

The laughter died down eventually. "I'm going to enjoy having you on this trip to make us laugh," said Milhir.

"I'm glad you would have me," she said looking back to Legolas, who's wrath still hadn't smoldered. She truly was glad that she was coming with them now, even if she was a prisoner andeven if one of them hated her... for now. She then let out a long yawn. "I'm very tired," she said next. "I think I'm going to go to sleep."

"You should," said Alidar. "We have along day ahead of us."

"How far is Gondor from here?" she asked with a second yawn.

"Aragorn's city is nearly four days journey from here."

"Shouldn't you be getting some rest as well?"

"Elves don't need as much sleep as humans," answered Iflaím.

"Oh. Good night then." She went over to where her bag and mat were and unrolled her mat. The clothes inside of it she used as a pillow. I'll leave these skirts here, along with my extra shirts, she decided. It's too much to take with me. If we're going to a city, I'll be able to barter for some new sets of clothes.

She lay on left her side, facing the fire, as not to continue the swelling of the bruises on her back. An image of Legolas' intense blue eyes appeared in her mind. Curling her legs close to her body into a ball, she fell asleep.

Indeed, I have updated. Enjoy y'all! I still don't like this story as much as some of my others, but I have an idea of where it's going and I'm trying.