A/N: Okay. I've had this idea in my head for a while now. It's not meant to be taken dead serious, and yes there may be some times where she is a tad Mary sue. But please, The Hobbit was... I can't even. wow. yes. Let's discuss that shall we? Thorin was just... eugh. I love him and fili and kili. Just, remind me to re read the hobbit.

Oh yeah, and my writing style has changed since I have learnt that twilight is ...just no. Why did I even... no.

The forest was denser than she had remembered. The thick bushes twisting around their horses legs. The prince was a fare bit further on than she, Morohtar's legs stronger, longer than Alassë's. The horse whinnied, and she glanced down at her.

She was strolling slower than before, glancing up and around herself with a shake of her head. She was uneasy, that much Faelwen could sense. A breeze flowed past them and the young elf maiden noticed wisps of the long cotton trees leaves brush past them. She was sure some would be in her hair, but she didn't mind.

"Faelwen." Came the voice from in front of her. Morohtar had stopped, his head turning back to gaze at the two females and shake his head roughly as he stomped at the ground. Faelwen laughed, Morohtar it seemed, had a slight temper. "We shall stop here and lead the horses by foot." Legolas, with all the grace of an elf, slipped of his steeds back and wrapped his fingers in his mane, leading him gently towards a pasture.

Faelwen sighed, if only she were as graceful. Alassë stopped for a moment, allowing her rider to dismount before she plodded along beside her. Faelwen had never truly been this far into the surrounding forest of Rivendell, usually staying close to the outer edges. Elrond had asked her to stay close, if Arwen needed her, then she would be there. Something she was not happy to agreeing to. But, Arwen was her friend, and so she would.

Legolas turned again, a small smile playing across his features. "What troubles you hiril vuin?" (My lady). Morohtar whinnied, turning his head to glance at them before trotting off into the clearances opening. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the mist that had enveloped it.

"Nothing." She furrowed her brows, chewing on her bottom lip. She, as a daughter of Lothlórien, was used to the tree's, the ever growing forage a welcome sight to her. But her heart was uncontrollable in her chest, her palms slick as they clenched and unclenched in her horses mane. She wasn't used to this, she was not meant to be what she was now, that was not her purpose in life. But Galadriel herself had propositioned she move to Rivendell, to serve Lord Elrond as an ambassador between her people and his.

And then she had messed it up by hunting with her brother, and saving the prince of greenwood. Whom was now staring at her with a expectant expression. She shook her head again.

"Am man ídhrog istad?" (Why do you want to know?) Alassë prodded the ground and pulled her mane free of her hand. Faelwen, getting the point, released her and watched as she wandered to where Morohtar was grazing lazily on some low hanging leaves.

"Sevin naw." (I have an idea) He said, motioning for her to come towards him. She padded her way towards him, feet barely denting the long blades of grass.

That was when she noticed, the trees thickening towards the north of the clearing and thinning along a brook. A brook in which her trainer now practiced by, swinging his ivory sword through the air as if he were part of some dance. His partner invisible to those not worthy of her beauty. His hair flowed through the breeze, light reflecting gold across the branches nearest to him. Faelwen was not considered what the elves would call a lady as such.

She were a maiden of course, respected among her peers. But she was odd. Where as other of her age would be learning to sing, play the lute and recite poetry. She would be knee high in mud, hunting with her older brother. Spending days on the chase until finally she would take that shot and drag what ever food she could to her mother.

"O man?" (About what?). She asked cautiously, fingers itching against the small dagger strapped to her thigh.

"Tolo, tolo" (Come, come) He'd stopped by then, and was slowly making his way to the furthest edge of the clearing. closer towards the brook. Faelwen frowned, if he meant for her to join him in there, she would have to decline. He span on his heel then, Ivory dagger pointed towards her. "Sevig chûr?" (Are you ready?)

"Am man?" (For what?). He was smiling, wicked lips turned upright. He didn't answer her though, opting for a simple nod of the head. "Legolas?"

He was on her in a flash, silver streaming before her eyes, narrowly missing her. "AI!" She yelled, fingers curling around her own blade before lifting it to greet his. It was smaller in size, the blade blunt. It was for hunting not for fighting. "Legolas! Baw!" (don't!)

"If you asked for an Orc to stop, would it? Or would it simply-" He swung again, narrowly missing her head. "Simply carry on?" she dodged left, spinning on her heel and throwing up her sword to deflect. He was stronger than his slight flame would suggest, the pure force behind his hit almost sent her flying to the ground. Before she could swing back, he was at her again. Silver gleaming and missing her face by a mere inch.

"A!" She cried, shocked that he would even risk such a move. He merely chuckled, diving in for another swing. She kicked out, her boot meeting it's mark near his lower abdomen. He grunted, reeling backwards, legs and arms flailing to find something to grip. That was her chance, She leaped at him, arms out away from her, ready to wrap around him and pin him to the ground.

But he recovered too quickly and rolled to his side, forcing her to land on her face. She could hear him chuckling from above her and she kicked out her leg, throwing her self off the ground.

"You are doing well mellon nin." He smiled. She shook her head, hoping the leaves would untangle from her hair.

"We shall see."

They practiced for what seemed like hours, swear pooled at Faelwens brow and between boughts of drawn out fighting, she would wipe it off. Legolas though, seemed calm, hes demeanor hardly affected by any of the strain. She was terrible compared to him. Though his was older than her, not by much though. simply a few hundred years.

The sun was setting when they made their way back to the the heart of Rivendel. The burning embers hanging low across the tree tops behind them. They didn't ride their horses, opting for a walk instead, a chance to allow their muscles the chance to cool down. Neither spoke,, either from a lack of air in their lungs or from need not to. She wasn't all that sure.

Alassë whinnied along with morohtar as they placed them in the stables, leaving them in the care of the stables master. An elf she hadn't actually spoken to before, in all her years amongst Rivendel's people.

"Mellon nin" He spoke, his breath coming in slow deep intakes. "It has been a pleasure, but I must retire before the moon rises." His golden hair was sticking to the side of his neck, and then she noticed how truly muddy she'd gotten him. "If you do not mind?"

"No, no. Of course not my prince." She bowed, collecting her things and left him to his own devices. She would have to tend to the halflings soon, she mused. They would need their supper as well as a bath. Master Frodo would not be ready as of yet, and she would have to try and pry his friend Samwise away from him so that he could remain strong. She groaned into her hand.

Her night was not about to become any easier.

The halflings, Meriadoc and Peregrin had already found their way to the dining hall, both with a small plate filled with various cheeses and bread. She smiled as she passed them, placing her bow down beside her as she sat at the furthest end of the table. She wanted to give them space, they had been through a treacherous journey to get there.

"So, you're an archer?" Meriadoc spoke, head inclined towards her. She smiled at him, leaning so that her arms crossed the table.

"Would it be bad if I were Meriadoc Brandybuck?" He made a face, and shook his head.

"It's merry."

"As you wish, merry."

"So...are you?" Pippin asked, eyes shining eagerly. She'd always been fond of halflings, be it for their child like views or the fact they were happy, small folk. The other races, such as dwarves, were not that way inclined. Well at least not from the ones she had met.

"Indeed I am perian" She grabbed her bow, shifting down until she sat next to Pippin.

"Why do you keep calling us perian?" He asked, leaning his head on her side. Faelwen faltered, the touch somewhat matronly. Merry rolled his eyes. "What does it mean?"

"It means halfling." She spoke low, slowly, unsurely wrapping her arm around the little hobbits side, tightening his cloak. "tis the tongue of my people perian. Would you wish to learn some?"

Merry nodded, leaning in closer so that he could hear.

She chuckled to herself at that. "Friend is mellon." She recited, "My is nin, so my friend would be, mellon nin."