Elrohir woke up to a soft voice singing beautiful ballads. Sluggishly, he opened his eyes.

"Ei Valar!" He murmured. "Are this Mandos' halls? Never have I seen an elleth as beautiful in Middle-earth!" She-elf.

The singing stopped and the she-elf sat up straighter, her silver orbs shining calmly.

"You are not in Mandos' halls. These are the wise trees of Greenwood the Great, one of the most ancient forests in all Middle-earth," she replied with an air of pride accompanying her voice.

"What happened?"

"We saved you after you got attacked by orcs. You were without consciousness for two days, even though your wound was not poisoned. Unfortunately, not all of your group are that lucky."

"My brother -!" Elrohir panicked, starting to get up.

"- will be fine!" The elleth finished his sentence and pressed him back down onto the blankets. "He got a deep slash on his arm but we have cleaned, stitched and bandaged it and his body is already fighting the poison. My brother is talented healer; he mixed all the necessary herbs. Do not fret, for he will live."

Somewhat relaxed Elrohir followed the pressure of her hand on his chest and lied back down.

"Thank you!"

For a moment all he did was to stare into the sky, which was almost completely hidden behind rustling big leaves. Suddenly, he realised he was not laying on the ground but on a wooden platform high in the trees. His stomach told him that he was not too fond of this fact. He quickly tried to lead his thoughts elsewhere.

"I am Elrohir," he introduced himself somewhat weakly.

"I know," the female warrior answered without looking up. He followed her gaze and understood she was fletching her arrows. A pile of silver arrowheads lay next to a pile of feathers and the wooden shafts.

"Nice arrows," he attempted to compliment her.

"I do not care about whether my arrows are nice, half-elf. They have to be deadly, for that is their purpose." She seemed to be completely uninterested in him for her voice was calm and soft.

"Well, they are nice as well" Elrohir pondered. When she did not react, he slowly rose to his elbows. This time her eyes wandered to him, her gaze sharp and awake. Slowly, she took her utilises and moved further away.

"The healer will be here soon to have a look on your wound," the wood elf suddenly said.

"Ugh, thank you. And thank you for saving us as well."

Before she could answer, another wood elf suddenly leapt onto the platform. He smiled softly and kneeled down.

"Princess Eyaenne," he said before raising. "Your brother, Crown Prince Alcanor, wishes to speak with you. Lord Elrohir, it is good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

Elrohir caught himself before he could stare at Princess Eyaenne too much and replied:

"Fine. A bit dizzy but fine. How is my brother? I need to see him!"

"He is just behind you," Eyaenne noted with an amused ring in her voice while she got back on her feet, collected her arrows and then left the platform. She leaned closer to the new elf and whispered something in his ear.

Elrohir had turned immediately and indeed, Elladan was laying not too far away on blankets, his weapons, armour and outer clothes carefully piled up next to him. Just now Elrohir noticed that he as well was only clad in a soft shirt and long trousers.

Fresh crème had been spread over Elladan's wound and the younger twin figured that the reason why the Princess had been here in the first place was because she had been looking over them. And she had not been alone Elrohir realised as a tall wood elf with long straight hair of a bright nut brown colour nodded towards him. The elf was standing close to the edge and he seemed casual even though the bow around his shoulder and the quiver filled with long arrows on his back said otherwise.

Tiredly, Elrohir crawled over to his brother. He was not as skilled in the arts of healing as his twin and yet he knew from a quick glance that the greenwood healers apparently had known what they were doing, for he remembered seeing very similar treatments practised by his father. Content to be alive and to know his brother was safe he took his twins hand turned to lie on his side and quickly fell asleep.

Eyaenne sprang over the branches with ease, heading towards the commanding flat. Her senses were awake and she laughed softly about the trees who were whispering light songs into the fresh air. She had been anxious for the last couple of hours: She did not like sitting next to the wounded Noldor. Whenever she looked at them all she could think about was how they had tried to kill her brother. The memories of how her father had come home with Alcanor slumped in his arms and himself staggering of tiredness still burned in her mind. It had been so close, so scaringly close.

Alcanor had told her everything about his visit at Rivendell after he had had years of recovering. He had told her about how he had been enjoying the time he had spent with the twins and how he had marvelled the beauty of Rivendell's gardens. But nearly getting stabbed to death had made him distrustful of anything what had happened before the attack. The Princess knew all too well that her brother was somewhat … confused. He did not exactly know how to handle the Noldor. Especially the twins for he did not know whether he should think they had been part of the deceive and had known about the planned attack on him and King Thranduil or not.

Eyaenne jumped onto the platform without making so much sound as a soft thump. Alcanor turned around to her and smiled shortly.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I need you to take command here. The scout has spotted a spider nest nearby and I want to clear the area before the Noldor get fit enough to cause more trouble."

"I will. How many elves do you need?"

"I do not want to leave you with the Noldor outnumbering you. Therefore, I will take thirty of our soldiers. Will the remaining twenty elves suffice or do you want me to get some backup?"

"Eight of the Noldor are too heavily wounded to do anything but sleep. I doubt the other seven will be much of a trouble. I will keep a close eye on them."

"Do not underestimate them, Eyae! I do not want to see you hurt. Be ever watchful, for they will try to lull you in security before they will thrive their dagger in your back."

Alcanor pulled his little sister into a tight embrace and the Princess could feel him shaking. He truly was scared even though he hid it successfully towards anyone but her. He softly kissed her temple, before pulling back. He placed his hands on her cheeks and looked into her silver eyes which mirrored his own perfectly.

"Please be careful! I would never be able to forgive myself if these Noldor harmed you," he whispered before he turned away. The next moment he was quietly giving orders while simultaneously fastening the leather straps of his body armour.

Soon after, Crown Prince Alcanor left the post with thirty soldiers. They leapt into the trees and the ancient entities protected them from sight. Meanwhile Eyaenne made sure she got all the information she needed. Scouts were send out with the order to report back to her instead of her brother and she asked for all the information she could get about the condition of the Noldor. So far, Lord Elrohir and one other elf were the only ones to have woken up which was no surprise for the Noldor had been completely and utterly exhausted.

Roewen came running towards her several hours later. Eyaenne tore her gaze from the maps in front of her and faced the older elf.

"Lord Glorfindel is waking up, Princess!" she told her quickly. Eyaenne cursed. An action which earned her a reproachful look from the wood elf. Eyaenne groaned. She wasn't even allowed to curse, for crying out loud! As a Princess you are representing Greenwood the Great. Which means: No cursing, iell-nin, no matter how much you want to, she heard her father's slightly amused voice ringing in her head. She growled again.

The next moment, her thoughts were back on the ancient elven lord. She felt how her chest constricted and her breathing became a bit laboured. She was not up for this! Alcanor was meant to be back when Glorfindel woke up! She couldn't do this! Not alone anyway. What if she made a complete fool of herself? What if she could not show Glorfindel that he had no power in this Wood?

She pulled herself together. She was a Princess, for fucks sake! The daughter of the mighty elven king Thranduil! She was not afraid. She took another deep breath before she turned her attention back to Roewen who was looking at her with concern. The two she-elves had been friends for many years. However, Eyaenne still had not gotten Roewen to drop that blasted title of hers unless they were alone. She suspected Roewen was doing it on purpose to annoy her.

"Bring me to him. Erandil, Saniell, come with me!" she ordered the two elves who had been standing around the map with her.

They followed Roewen through the trees until they arrived at the platform on which Glorfindel was occupying. It was not far and they reached it within a minute.

The elven lord apparently had just woken up for he was just jumping on his feet and shouting then Eyaenne arrived.

"Lord Glorfindel," she greeted with what she hoped was irony in her voice. "What has happened that you have to yell and scream like a child disturbing the peace of these woods?"

The elven lord's face turned red with her words and Eyaenne smiled to herself, proud of her choice of words and how they hid her fear.

"I demand to speak with Alcanor!" Glorfindel bellowed.

Eyaenne rose her hand to silence him.

"You are in no position to demand anything, Lord. And my brother, Crown Prince Alcanor," – she stressed his title – "has better things to do right now than to babysit you. Unfortunately, that has become my job, so, how can I help you?" she stated calmly.

Lord Glorfindel trembled with anger, but his voice was icy cold than he spoke.

"Where are my soldiers! What have you done to them?"

Eyaenne rolled her eyes about such a stupid question.

"Chopped them up for dinner," Eyaenne scowled annoyed with heavy sarcasm. "Believe it or not, we did not save your lives only to harm you afterwards. They are fine and are resting on other platforms like this one."

"Forgive me," the elf lord forced himself to say. "I should not have made false accusations. I was worried than I saw no one else."

There was a silence in which the two parties just stared at each other.

"It is an honour to finally meet you, Princess Eyaenne. Could you please tell me, how are my soldiers?" Glorfindel prompted after the silence stretched.

"Six of your elves are still in danger: We do not know if they will live. Our healer's do all they can. Lord Elrohir and one other elf have woken up but they fell back asleep. I expect the others to wake up soon, however we had given them some sleeping drugs before allowing them to sleep so they could do so without dreams. It will depend on their individual condition when they wake up."

"May I see them?" Glorfindel asked carefully.

"To change what?" Eyaenne inquired harshly, but directly after the words left her mouth she closed her eyes to take a deep breath. She had taken it over the line and she knew it. Of course the elven lord wanted to see the wounded. He had every right to ask for this and she would not have done differently if their places had been reversed. For one second, she realised that Glorfindel did not interrupt her thoughts with an angry reply and then she opened her eyes to see that the ancient elf was calmly looking at her.

"I am sorry; this was inappropriate," she said almost gently. "Of course you may see them but I must request you leave your weapons here."

"You are still young, Thranduiliell," Glorfindel said softly. "May I require why it is necessary to leave my weapons?"

"The platform with the wounded only serves place for three more people next to the assigned healer. I do not trust you, Lord Glorfindel. You are a Noldor and the Noldor tried to kill my father and injured my brother severely. I have no guarantee you will not try to kill me as soon as you have the opportunity. I would rather you do not stand in my back with weapons to your hands," she explained and cocked her head to the side while she did so.

"Fair enough."

Glorfindel knew all too well how much the wood elves distrusted foreigners. Especially since the incident. Sadly enough, their distrust had proven to be righteous. He knew if he did not want to cause a war he had to be extremely careful, for one wrong word could get him and his soldiers killed. He looked upon Eyaenne, the woodland princess. All clad in brown leather armour and in practical robust clothes of dark greenish colours. A small twig was entwined in her dark curls just above her pointy ear. She bore her weapons with pride and her hard yet beautiful face betrayed that she had seen many horrors of the world and yet her silver eyes also betrayed her sense for humour.

"Eat before I take you to your wounded," she ordered him. "Roewen, bring him to me as soon as he has finished."

With that the Princess turned and jumped onto lower branches with the grace only a wood elf could possibly master.

Eyaenne showed Glorfindel to the wounded and the elf could see that the Noldor were indeed well cared for. He asked for the twins for these two were the only ones who were absent. Elrohir was awake when they arrived on the other platform.

"Glorfindel!" He yelled, carefully lifting Elladan's head out of his lap before jumping to his feet.

"Elrohir! Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes I am. And Elladan is getting better, too. His fever has broken a couple of hours ago."

Elrohir was unable to keep his eyes fixed on his mentor but instead marvelled Eyaenne's beauty.

"Thank you, for saving us, Princess!" He seized the opportunity to speak to her.

"You have said so before," the elleth replied sarcastically. Glorfindel had to stop himself to not yell at her. If she had been a Noldor, he would not have hesitated to do so. He felt the tiring pull he always felt then dealing with Thranduil and – apparently – his precious children. They had the tendency to be annoyingly sarcastic and ironic and they understood it perfectly to irritate him without being overly undiplomatic. Maybe the degree of irritation they caused him was so high only because these weapons usually were his own, but he did not even try to use them against the wood elves who had perfected this skill.

The distrust lay in the air like a thickening liquid and seemed to take him his breath. The silence which spread was uncomfortable.

Eyaenne who had been shifting uncomfortably under Elrohir's stare, opened her mouth to say something. She never got the chance to.

An elf suddenly appeared on a near branch. He held onto it with on hand, his bow tightly clutched in the other while he leant forward as far as possible to whisper something in Eyaenne's direction. He used the old tongue of the wood elves which made it impossible for Glorfindel to understand. However, he saw how Eyaenne suddenly straightened and how her body went rigid, a spark of alarm entering her silver eyes. With a movement so quick Glorfindel nearly missed it she took her bow from her back, arrow notched.

She calmly asked for more information which she seemed to get, for her next words were sharp orders, before she jumped off the platform. The other elf raised his hand to his mouth and the chirping of a bird rung through the forest in a distinctive song. In the next moment, the trees suddenly groaned silently as they shifted their branches. Glorfindel nearly fell forward, stumbling to find his footing on the platform which had moved underneath him. A second later all movement had stilled but the air in the forest seemed different, seemed darker. Even though Glorfindel was not a wood elf he felt the anger of the trees surrounding them.

"Get your weapons, Elrohir! I think we are being attacked!" He ordered sharply, already trying to get back to the platform where he knew his own armour and weapons.

"What about Elladan?" Elrohir asked worriedly glancing down at his twin.

"The trees won't let anyone come close to him, I am sure of it. And the wood elves would not leave this position unprotected," Glorfindel reasoned.

Elrohir sped up to put his armour on and to get his weapons. His mentor had left, so he carefully made his way down to the ground. For one moment he stood still, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He was searching for a sound which told him where to go. And he found it. Distinct and far away, an odd screeching sound ringing through the rustling of the trees.

He gripped his weapon tighter and run in the forest. It only took him minutes to find the source of the sound. He stopped instantly for nothing could have prepared him to see the giant body of spider. A massive spider, bigger than himself, bigger than a troll! He stood there frozen and could not convince his body to move. He did not really see how arrows flew on the animal, piercing its eyes. The pain only made it angrier and the screeching got louder and louder. It stormed into Elrohir's direction, somehow able to sense him. Only seconds before his body was sliced with the sharp weapons on the legs of the spider, something dropped to the forest floor behind it. Someone. Eyaenne, her curls flying through the air and her daggers only a fade glow in the air, barely visible. She fought vigilantly and skilfully. Everyone who watched her would see her father in the way she moved, in the way she ducked to avoid injury, the way she jumped to the side and stepped backwards, the way she suddenly threw herself forward to imbed her daggers in the vulnerable belly of the giant beast, before getting out of its reach once more. Minutes passed and Eyaenne's breath was soon the only thing heard under the trees.

"Elrohir!" She yelled, not able to hide her concern. She even forgot his title and her eyes shone bright. She stopped before him, positioning her hand carefully on his shoulder, both of her daggers in her other hand. Elrohir looked in her silver eyes and suddenly felt how his heart began beating again, hard and painfully, against his ribcage.

Without thinking he leant forward and his lips met hers, soft and warm. She tasted like dark honey or like sunrays on grass.

He slowly pulled back. Her eyes sought his.

"Why?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper. Tears fell from her eyes and Elrohir did not understand the pain which was written so clearly in her features. She lifted her hands and pressed them against her chest. Suddenly, something red appeared between her fingers and blood ran over her skin. Her body went limp and she fell down, a deep wound in her torso. Blood coloured her clothes dark and built a pool underneath her body. She started coughing as the liquid entered her lungs and took away her breath. With shock Elrohir saw the smaller spider. The spider which had torn a hole in Eyaenne's chest and was now clicking with its fangs.

"Why …," Eyaenne asked again, looking at the Noldor accusingly, before her vision blurred in red and then faded into darkness.

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