The sky was still dark when Malrin awoke, her body aching. With a sigh, she stood, making her way to the window. The trees stirred in a delicate breeze, the moon as clear as the noon day sun, spreading a crystal light on the greenery outside. Wrapping a green cloak around her nightgown, she left the room, her cape rustling across the cold floor. Opening the great door softly, she stepped out into the moonlight, her bare feet sinking into the damp, soft grass.

Malrin sighed with relief. The night was warm, crickets chirping contentedly in the tall, swaying grass. She walked past the castle walls, down to a deep pond. Lilies floated on the surface, tall reeds growing along the sides, and the moon reflected, distorted, on the water. Malrin stepped forward, dropping her cloak on the grass, still wet from the rain. Lifting her nightgown up past her ankles, she stepped into the warm water that lapped at the shoreline.

A tear slid down her face, spreading its salty taste across her cracked lips.

'Come my love, stand and fight. Nothing was ever achieved by tears.'

Malrin sat, nine years old again, on a emerald hill, a small toy bow sitting next to her. Her beautiful mother with striking, tender eyes kneeled in front of her, blue silk spread around her knees.

'But mother, all the boys say I can't shoot because I'm a girl!'

Malrin whispered, dismayed. Her mother laughed kindly, wiping away tears with gentle fingers.

'Wipe those tears away, my sweet love, and pay no mind to boys. We live in a world where men reign, my darling, but that does not mean you cannot be as skillful as they! Practice, and show them that they are mistaken.'

Malrin sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Malrin's mother smiled tenderly, pulling out a soft kerchief and cleaned Malrin's soft face. Then, standing, she lifted Malrin up and seized the bow, readying one of its small arrows. Giving the bow to Malrin, she kneeled one again, her auburn hair twisting in the wild wind.

'Pull back, and relax. Keep your arm straight love, and use only two fingers. Very good, focus now and...let it fly.'

Malrin let go, watching as the arrow pierced the center of the target. Squealing, she ran to the target and grasped the tiny arrow with her short fingers.

'Bull's-eye, Mother, a bull's-eye!'

Her mother laughed on the top of the green hill, waving as the gentle wind rustled her blue silk skirt, the sun setting behind her.

Malrin turned her face upwards toward the moon, breathing in the earthy smell of the night.

"Once, long ago, an elf king lived."

Legolas' voice etched through the silence, making Malrin drop her dress in surprise. The white silk skimmed the surface, flowing eerily through the water.

"He was wise and just, and his people loved him with all their hearts, for they lived in a world of darkness and confusion, for the world was new. "

Legolas stood next to her in the water, his chiseled face radiant in the moonlight, his silken hair shimmering.

"With all his heart, he yearned for a wife. Though her searched through all his kingdom and past his borders, finding many beautiful elleth, none loved him back. He was wasting away with loneliness, prepared to go to the sea. Hearing of her king's pain, a young elleth went before him, hoping to entice him. She was fairer than all the stars in the skies, and many desired her. They fell in a deep love with each other, and they were married at dawn the next day. The king was joyful, and they lived peacefully for many, many years. One day, an friend of the crown, who was very much in love with the queen, tried to kill the elf king out of envy. The queen flung herself in front of the blade, while the traitor fled. Taking his dying queen in his arms, the king swore he would not rest until the queen's death was avenged. Lighting a candle, the king searched the sky every day for her slayer. The flame spread into a great circle in the sky, and the elvish race rejoiced, for the sun had been created, and they grew food by the plenty."

Legolas paused, his face turned to the moon.

"At night, the queen's bright spirit roams the skies, searching for her king. They are bound in a loop, never able to be together, but always in a constant balance."

Legolas said softly, speaking to the moon. Malrin turned, perplexed.

"Why does she not move on?"

Legolas smiled, a small, sad smile, turning toward her.

"Because love is an unbreakable force. Through sadness, pain, betrayal and death, love must linger, or what would this world be?"

Malrin looked down into the gleaming water.

"Broken." She whispered, turning her head, her bright eyes shining as she glanced his way.

Legolas smiled.

"You should be asleep, my lady. These days are tiresome."

"I say the same to you, sir."

Legolas laughed, a clear, chiming laugh like many silver bells in crisp air.

"Elves do not sleep. We dream of colors and beautiful sounds, but we do not sleep."

Malrin studied him, puzzled.

"Does it pain you? To always have to think?"

Legolas did not speak, but turned to her and took her arm gently in his nimble fingers, leading her out of the water and to the door of the castle.

"Sleep, Malrin. The world will not stop turning if you do."

Malrin sighed, studying his face, bemused. Turning, she swept away, her skirt whispering across the stone.

"Goodnight."

Legolas' soft whisper floated to her ears. Malrin paused, but did not turn. A smile broke on her face as she walked away.

The steady beat of distance drums woke Malrin. Her eyes fluttered open in confusion. She lay there for a minute, listening closely. Standing, Malrin made her way to the window, where soft golden light fanned softly in, the sun peeking over the mountains in the distance. Curiously, a large crowd were making their way across a field separating the castle from the edge of the forest. They were at least three leagues away, though they were approaching rapidly. Troubled, Malrin slipped a brown skirt on, and the soft linen blouse from her journey here, which was now starched and mended. Reaching into her leather satchel, she pulled the ring out, admiring the rosy gleam of light reflected in its pristine surface before hiding it. Lacing up her leather corset, she packed her bag and slipped out the door, her glance lingering in the small, cheerfully lit room she had enjoyed for so short a time.

Making her way to the great hall, she ran straight into Vice, who looked restless.

"Come, Malrin."

He turned, heading through the kitchen. Following him, Malrin grabbed a couple apples, a loaf of bread, and a chunk of cheese that were sitting on a tall table on a whim and stuffed them into her leather satchel. Together they stepped into the crisp morning, the sun not yet bringing warmth to the air. Vice lead her a tall stable, filled with the sharp scent of horses and hay. Legolas was staring out one of the stable windows, completely still. Gimli was snoring in the hay, still suffering from a hangover from the night before. Aragorn was muttering under his breath as he paced, his eyes unfocused. Malrin, concerned, reached for Aragorn's arm. He stopped when her fingers gripped his strong arm, his stormy grey eyes somewhere far away.

"What are they?"

Malrin inquired, suddenly distressed. Aragorn hesitated, looking past her at Legolas, who returned his glance steadily.

"Orcs. The king knows of this danger, and has most of his soldiers positioned by the outer bailey and barbican. They will attack from the east."

He turned away from her, rubbing his face contemplatively.

"Do we stay and fight, or start to Rivendell?"

Malrin sat on a bale of hay, close to Gimli, who snored and rolled onto his side, hay sticking to his beard.

"We must leave, Aragorn. The ring must be brought to Gandalf."

Aragorn stepped toward Legolas, tense.

" It would be traitorous and cowardice to leave them now. They will die, Legolas. All of them."

Legolas stood his ground.

"Then they will die fighting, and not in vain. The Ring could change everything about the war, Aragorn. The war is looming closer every day, and it cannot be put off much longer. I feel it like a cold, black shadow sweeping over everything."

Malrin stood, confused.

"War? We live in a time of peace."

Suddenly, a shadow moved into the barn. Sweeping her dark cloak off her gleaming ebony hair, the queen stepped into the light of the barn. In her fine dress and jewelry, she looked out of place in the modest shed.

"Peace, my child, has left us long ago. Sadly, my husband has not yet understood the gravity of our situation."

Glancing out the window at the steadily rising sun, her face hardened.

"The last rising sun I shall ever see."

Vice stepped to her, his face pleading.

"Come with us, your grace. You can be safe, in Rivendell, until you find-"

"I will die, traveler, by my king and my people's side, with honor."

Vice bowed his head.

"You must leave now. While you still have time. Take this,"

The queen handed Aragorn a package.

"It is food, for your journey."

Aragorn hesitated, studying her noble face, quiet and serene.

"I do not fear death, Strider. Death, it seems, fears me."

Aragorn smiled sorrowfully.

"Of that I have no doubt."

The queen kissed them all on the cheek. Then, mahogany eyes met grey.

"Be not afraid, child. Your strength is stronger than you believe."

Malrin opened her mouth to reply, but found she could not. She sunk to her knees in a bow.

"You are wise and fair, Queen. I envy you."

Queen Cötta laughed, making her stand again with a hand on Malrin's chin. Then, pulling her hood on again, she swept away, leaving a lingering scent of cinnamon.

"Where is the ring?"

Malrin hesitated, stepping back, her eyes watching the door. Vice stepped toward her, his eyes gleaming.

"Malrin-where is the ring?"

She crossed her arms, infuriated with his prodding.

"If you must know, I've hidden it in my corset. Shall I grab it or would you like to get it for yourself?"

Vice stopped, his eyes wide in surprise. Then he burst into peals of laughter, bringing a smirk onto Legolas' face and finally waking Gimli up. Grumbling, Gimli rose to his feet, brushing the straw off of his tunic and rubbing his back with a snarl.

"Honestly, you can't sleep for a moment 'round here."

Aragorn finally turned, resolute.

"How far are they, Vice?"

Vice peered out the window, but Legolas answered.

"About 2 leagues, from the East. 360 foot soldiers, 109 archers. We can escape to the South, through the forest of Forlond, and make our way across the River Lune, if we make it to the Blue Mountain pass, which might take us days to reach, perhaps weeks."

Aragorn nodded, while Vice rolled his eyes.

"Fine then, we ride."

The men, elf and dwarf geared up. Legolas and an apprehensive looking Gimli mounted a saddle-less Arod, while Vice saddled Donovan.

"I'm coming with you."

Malrin said, her eyes blazing. Vice laughed.

"Obviously. What could you possibly do about Orcs, little woman?"

Malrin's eyes flashed angrily, but she pulled a familiar looking saddle off of the wall. Tracing the letter H on the saddle, she paused, confused. Suddenly, looking around, Malrin let out a sigh of relief.

"Melda!"

The dotted mare sat serenely in a stall to the left. Malrin ran to her, kissing her soft nose over and over.

"Oh I thought I had lost you, darling horse."

Vice laughed again, making his way over to stand beside her, helping her with the saddle.

"Funny horse, this one. Wouldn't so much as trot with that weasel on her back."

Malrin grinned, mounting Melda steadily. With everyone securely on their horses, Aragorn reeled around and they took off to the South.