A/N: I'm back again at last! Hopefully this nice long chapter will make up for the long wait. Thanks to all who review/favorite/follow this story!

The Fellowship of the Ring was originally going to begin next chapter, but this chapter grew too long, so I'm splitting it into two parts. I thought I'd publish this first part since the next time I update will probably be around Christmas (I seem to only be able to find time to write during long vacations!)

Elrond sat behind his study, hands steepled in front of his face, lost in thought. His ring, Vilya, shone brighter than normal, pulsing radiant blue light as if it were alive. A sudden rush of footsteps into his study did not faze Elrond. He kept his eyes closed and made no move of acknowledgement towards the person who had just arrived.

"My lord, the defenses are holding for now. Their numbers are weakening; we will not be defeated this time," a voice said.

"I am aware of that," Elrond said calmly, "A meager army of orcs cannot breach the borders of Rivendell that easily. Imladris is far stronger than you give her credit for, Henduil."

Elrond finally opened his eyes. He could see the faint flush of embarrassment in Henduil's cheeks.

"Nevertheless, my lord, I have taken precautions to ensure the safety of the valley," Henduil continued, "I have sent word to both Mirkwood and Lothlorien requesting assistance."

Elrond sighed. Henduil was a fine captain of the patrol, but he was still too young, and the young were far too impatient these days.

"There was no need," Elrond said tiredly, "And I know that at least Lothlorien is under siege as well. I would not be surprised in the slightest if Mirkwood is also in a similar situation."

Henduil nodded.

"You are correct about Lothlorien," Henduil said, "They have found themselves similarly engaged. Mirkwood, however, has won their battle. The orcs have retreated from Mirkwood, and there is news that those orcs are now heading for Rivendell to aid in the fight against us. But it seems that Lothlorien is facing their siege more poorly than we are." Henduil's face, although he was delivering grave news, was nevertheless triumphant that Rivendell was handling the siege better than Lothlorien. Elrond sighed again.

What Henduil did not know was that Galadriel, Lady of Lothlorien, was specifically weakening her wards to appear as though she was losing. Their hope was that the orcs would continue to attack Lorien if they thought they had a chance of winning, so Galadriel could keep them occupied and destroy more of them while Rivendell and Mirkwood handled their attackers.

That did not, however, mean that Lorien was fighting a losing battle. Galadriel's wards, created through her own ring of power, Nenya, were powerful enough that only Sauron himself had a chance of defeating them. The problem Elrond had been contemplating before Henduil's arrival was not about whether Lothlorien would lose the fight, but why Sauron would start a battle there in the first place. Sauron surely knew that Lothlorien could not be penetrated by mere orcs, so why the battle was even occurring was curious to Elrond. Sauron was not one to waste soldiers in a hopeless battle.

That being said, Sauron was not in any position to come marching into Lothlorien from Mordor himself. Even though Sauron had escaped from Gandalf and the White Council at Dol Goldur, the wizards had left him with no physical body. Elrond had recently heard rumors, however, that Sauron was transforming the huge tower in Mordor known as Barad-dur into a fortress for himself. What he was doing inside was anybody's guess, however. The latest news from Elrond's scouts was that Sauron was transforming his embodiment into the form of a fiery eye atop Barad-dur, although Elrond was tempted to dismiss this thought as simply delusional.

"A Mirkwood contingent is arriving shortly to assist us in fighting off the enemy," Henduil continued, pulling Elrond away from his thoughts again. So Thranduil was honoring his part of the plan, as Elrond had expected he would.

Of the three main Elven havens in Middle Earth, Lothlorien was mutually agreed upon to be the "Heart of Elvendom on Earth", the most important haven of them all. Therefore, both Mirkwood and Rivendell would choose to fall before Lothlorien to save that realm if given the chance.

Elrond focused back on Henduil. The young Elf had finished reporting all that he felt needed to be reported, so Elrond thanked him and dismissed him with a nod.

Elrond found his thoughts wandering away from Sauron and to Lothlorien. Celebrian had always told him that Lothlorien was the most beautiful place on Middle Earth, and she was always right, Elrond thought wryly. Even if it had not been mutually agreed upon, Elrond would still have done everything he could to save Lothlorien. For her.

He stood up from his study at last, and walked out onto yet another balcony of Rivendell. As he descended down winding stairs leading to the lower floors of his home, Elrond was lost in memory. The fall breeze stirred up the leaves and birds chirped in recognition of their lord, just as they had when Elrond had first brought Celebrian to Rivendell. His mind wandered back to that long ago day…

"It may be cold now, but Rivendell has its seasons," he had said nervously. If Celebrian found Rivendell to be unfavorable, he didn't know what he would do. He loved her more than anyone else in all of Middle Earth, but he had also presided over Rivendell for hundreds of years before she had come into his life.

"And autumn is not so bad a time," he continued, "There are furnaces inside to keep us warm during this and the winter seasons. I will make sure that you are never wanting for warmth."

He gazed around his little Elven outpost, for it was an outpost of sorts, really. It was located in a valley, unlike in a vast forest like Mirkwood or Lothlorien. While Lothlorien was all sparkles and peace, Rivendell was more rustic. The rivers and trees were always whispering to each other every moment of every day and birds chirped constantly in the trees. As he continued to gaze around his home from the balcony where they stood, Elrond felt increasingly panicked. Celebrian was used to the gentle brilliance of Lothlorien; surely Rivendell must be loathsome to her in comparison.

"The trees don't sparkle as they do in Lothlorien, but I find there is a natural splendor about the land. My craftsworkers carved Rivendell out of the valley itself. Its bridges and balconies all seek to bring you closer to the nature of the valley. I know the river is always rushing, but I find the noise is peaceful and comforting," Elrond paused in his rambling. He never usually became so flustered. After an awkward silence, Elrond had opened his mouth again to comment on the beauty of the birds' songs when Celebrian interrupted him, putting a graceful finger to his lips.

"Elrond, look at me," she said. Elrond slowly turned to look at her, realizing that he had been avoiding her gaze as he had talked. The sight of Celebrian before him never ceased to take his breath away. Her golden hair seemed to shine as it framed her face, her grey eyes sparkling with love and amusement.

"Relax, Elrond," she said softly, "And stop worrying. This place is perfect for us. Rivendell is perfect."

Elrond's sigh of relief was louder than he had intended. Celebrian laughed.

"Well, it isn't the same as Lothlorien, but I suppose it will have to do. Especially since I will be spending the rest of my life here. With you," she finished suggestively.

Elrond smiled. He had done most of his courting in Lothlorien and the surrounding area; they had already been engaged by the time he had brought her to Rivendell for the first time. He didn't know what he would have done if Celebrian had decided she wished to live elsewhere.

But he should have known better. Celebrian would have been content to live in Mordor, as he would have been, if that was what it took to be together.

They had stood for a long time in silence that day, gazing out over what would soon be their home, not just his. Celebrian's wide eyes shone as she absorbed as much as she could of Rivendell. Elrond, for his part, spent the time watching Celebrian, smiling when she smiled at one part of Rivendell or another. As the sun slowly began to sink below the trees, a bitter breeze blew through the balcony they were on, causing Celebrian to shiver and move closer to her fiancé. He instinctively put an arm around her. She grinned up at him and wiggled her eyebrows.

"Though it does seem to get rather cold here at night," she said innocently, causing Elrond to look at her questioningly, "I fully expect you to keep me warm at night throughout these winter months."

It was Elrond's turn to be innocent.

"Of course. Whatever my lady desires," he said, before swiftly scooping her up into his arms. Celebrian gasped in surprise. Then she laughed and tried to break free, but Elrond held her close and she relented, wrapping her arms around his neck and cuddling her head into his shoulder. He had carried her off the balcony and into his bedroom, which had already been fashioned into a room for two. ..

Without realizing it, Elrond found himself gazing up at that same balcony. The curtains that separated the balcony from his chambers fluttered lifelessly in the breeze. He remembered that night, and all the other breathtaking nights he had shared with Celebrian just behind those curtains. They had seen so much love, only to have had it extinguished by a crowd of ruthless orcs.

Elrond's hand tightened into a fist, and Vilya shone more brilliantly. From the gemstone, Elrond could just barely hear the faint screams of orcs as the barrier around Rivendell suddenly grew stronger and threw the closest ones away from the trees like ragdolls. It was the orcs who were fighting a losing battle. Not Rivendell. The orcs had already stolen Celebrian from him. They would never take Rivendell as well, not as long as he lived.

ooOOoo

Even though Elrond had assured Henduil that Rivendell would never be breeched, the battle was lasting longer than he had anticipated. Through winter and into spring, the orcs continued to surround the borders of Rivendell, unrelentlessly searching for an avenue into the realm. Shortly after the orcs from Mirkwood reached Rivendell, Elrond received news that the orcs from Lorien had also been sent to join forces against Rivendell. Sauron did know that he could not win at Lothlorien. He had simply been proving his strength to the Elves, and now, Elrond realized, Sauron meant to finish his display by destroying Rivendell. Elrond didn't think Sauron would be successful, but as a precaution, he wanted to make sure those he cared about most would be safe.

Arwen and Celede entered the library together, having just come from the courtyard. Arwen had been teaching a duet to Celede, and the pair greeted their father smiling and still humming their parts. The duet was a ballad of courage and perseverance, one that Arwen felt was particularly fitting with the ongoing siege of Rivendell. Elrond could not help but smile as he gestured to his daughters to sit on the couch opposite him. They looked at him expectantly as their humming lapsed into silence.

"How fares the siege?" Celede finally asked.

"It remains, and I fear it will remain so for a while yet," Elrond replied, the smile leaving his face.

"How is Gilraen in all of this? I have not visited her for quite some time," Arwen said. As the years of her brothers' and Aragorn's absence droned on, Arwen had found herself missing Aragorn especially. She hadn't known him long, but she yearned to see him again and hear his low, gentle voice whisper in her ear. She had told no one of this longing; Celede believed that Arwen's affection for Aragorn had been a passing fancy, and Arwen had done nothing to dissuade her sister of that notion.

But because of her continued feelings for Aragorn, Arwen had felt that spending time with Gilraen and taking care of her would be a small way of keeping her in Aragorn's favor, if only in her mind's eye. Gilraen, however, seemed to see right through her, and Arwen soon felt uncomfortable being alone with Gilraen. As the years passed, Arwen also noticed that Gilraen was aging, and that only sharpened the internal agony she felt. Aragorn was aging too, and if she did not make a choice soon, her chance would be gone forever. It had been nearly thirty years since Aragorn had left Rivendell. Time had never mattered to her as much as it did now.

"She is lonely," Elrond replied to Arwen's question, "and talks often of leaving Rivendell to return to her people. I cannot allow her to leave with orcs surrounding us, but I have told her that she is free to do so when times become safer."

Celede's eyes revealed her sadness at hearing this, but Arwen bit her lip, angrily reprimanding herself for feeling relief at the news. It was a selfish feeling, but she felt it nonetheless.

"I have no way of knowing when this battle will conclude," Elrond continued, "And I fear that, with their increased numbers, the orcs have the potential to do some damage. Therefore, I am sending both of you away to Lothlorien to ensure your safety."

"What?" Celede gasped, "You cannot do that Father. I won't leave you. Or Rivendell. And besides, didn't you just say that it was too dangerous to leave?"

"You will do as I ask," Elrond said sternly, "And I said that I would not allow Gilraen to leave. She cannot travel as quickly in her old age as she used to be able to. As you can. On horseback, you should be able to cross the Ford of Bruinen and head into the Misty Mountains undetected. From there, your travel to Lorien should remain unimpeded, for all orcs in the region are currently occupied elsewhere," Elrond finished wryly.

"What about you, Father?" Celede demanded, "I suppose you are to remain?"

"Of course," said Elrond, "I am the lord of this realm. It is my duty to see that she remains safe."

"And if Rivendell were to fall?"

"It is not going to fall, Celede."

"Then why are you sending us away?"

"A mere precaution."

Celede frowned, "I think it is far safer inside the walls, Father. Especially if you are so sure that Rivendell will remain secure."

"It would be unwise of me if I did not plan ahead for any events which I have not foreseen."

"Are you saying that because sending us away is the most logical course of action, or because you can't bear it if we are in any sort of danger? We can face any danger that you face, Father. We are not weak-"

"You will not accuse me of caring for my family, Celede," Elrond said sharply. Celede winced and looked down at the ground.

"I lost your mother, and I will not risk losing any more of my kin," Elrond continued, in a softer tone, "It is bad enough that Elrohir and Elladan are roaming the forests in the North, sworn to lay down their lives before the rightful king of Numenor. I will not risk my daughters as well as my sons.

And it is not just my love for you that weighs in this decision. You and your brothers represent the joining of Lothlorien with Rivendell. You are not only princesses and princes in Rivendell but among all the Elves on Middle Earth. Should I or Galadriel become unable to lead our people, the responsibility falls to you. Therefore it is imperative that you live."

"Father, I think we will survive this siege alive and in Rivendell. Leaving does not sound like a wise idea to me," Arwen finally spoke. She couldn't explain why, but she had a bad feeling about leaving Rivendell in the midst of a siege. Elrond blinked in surprise.

"I had anticipated Celede's resistance, but you, Arwen, I had expected to obey me. It does not matter, however, since I have already made my decision. You leave tomorrow evening, under cover of darkness. Pack lightly and sleep well tonight."

Elrond rose, signaling his daughters of their dismissal. Arwen and Celede also rose and proceeded to leave the room. Celede was about to follow her sister out the door when Elrond stopped her.

"Celede, a word," he said softly.

Celede paused. Arwen continued down the hallway. With a barely concealed sigh, Celede turned around.

"Yes, Father?"

"Henduil will be accompanying you. I thought you would be glad to know," Elrond said, "He is a fine Elf, and I am sure he will protect you."

Celede groaned internally. Henduil had continued to court Celede, and she had continued to rebuff his advances since Estel's twentieth birthday so long ago. Elrond must have noticed Henduil's advances; he would have been quite ignorant not to. In allowing Henduil to protect her, he was showing Celede his approval of the match. The only problem was that she didn't approve.

"I'm sure he will, Father," was all Celede could reply.

ooOOoo

Celede did not sleep much that night. She finally got up at sunrise and proceeded to dress in the tunic, tights, short skirt and boots she had always worn when practicing archery or swordplay. Although she had argued with her father, her departure was now inevitable, and Celede could not help but feel excitement towards the journey. She was finally leaving Rivendell in a time of danger, and she looked forward to the adventure. Elladan and Elrohir had scolded her for it thirty years ago, but now it was not her choice to leave Rivendell. What a shame, Celede thought happily as she began to pack.

Celede was packed long before nightfall. She had packed normal provisions but also her bow, her quiver of arrows, and her two Elvish daggers, one long and one short, sheathed beside her quiver. She knocked on Arwen's door and walked in before hearing a response. Arwen was dressed in long, flowing, traditional female riding attire. Her traveling cloak lay beside her on the bed as she rolled up a blanket. She glanced up as Celede entered.

"I did not say you could enter," she said mock sternly, "What if I had been entertaining a man?"

Celede grinned, "Come now, Arwen, at this time of day? Right before your departure? That would be quite foolish, and I have never known you to be foolish. And who would the lucky man be? Aragorn isn't here." Celede wiggled her eyebrows teasingly.

Arwen kept her eyes trained on the blanket as she casually let her dark hair fall in front of her face, hiding her surprise and her blush.

"Why would any man come to my room when they could see my sister half-naked outside?" she said sharply, gesturing at Celede's tight clothing.

"What?" Celede asked, shocked by her sister's cruel response, "This is what I have always worn to fight. I know Henduil has a problem with it, but I had thought that my family would have accepted it by now."

"Just go put on your riding cloak. We will not be seeing any fighting this trip, and the riding cloak will hide everything."

"I have nothing in need of hiding," Celede said angrily. She stormed out of Arwen's quarters and slammed the door behind her. Arwen sighed, regretting her words. She had been too harsh on her sister. Celede did not even suspect anything between her and Aragorn.

By nightfall, Celede still refused to talk to Arwen. They both said their customary farewells to Elrond but remained separate from each other. Celede wore the dark, shimmering blue riding cloak that Arwen had suggested she wear, concealing the warrior uniform she wore beneath it.

"Take care of them, Henduil," Elrond said.

"With my life," Henduil replied. He then signaled to the two other guards accompanying the sisters, and the three of them mounted their horses. Arwen and Celede put the hoods of their cloaks up before mounting their own horses. Then the party of five Elves walked into the forest of Rivendell, vanishing into the night.

The River Bruinen, although violent and rushing along the border of Rivendell, came to rest in a peaceful interlude in what was called the Ford of Bruinen. As the Elves approached the river, Henduil stepped forward first to make sure that the way was safe. The woods on the opposite side of the river were silent and dark, with no sign of movement. Signaling silently by hand, Henduil crossed the river, followed by Arwen, Celede and the two guards at the rear. Shortly after reaching the other side, Celede felt a sudden pressure on her that released almost as soon as she felt it. They had crossed over Elrond's protective wards. Their journey out of Rivendell had officially begun.

ooOOoo

"The Redhorn Pass is not far from here. We are making good time," said Henduil happily as he offered Celede more lembas bread. She politely declined; this was the third time he'd offered her some, and she was already quite full. She looked up at the sky, where some of the stars were blocked by the nearby Misty Mountains that loomed above them. They had been traveling alongside the mountains for some time, but only a few paths would allow them to cross over the mountains. The Redhorn Pass was the place where her mother had been ambushed, and Celede was always nervous whenever she had to travel through it. They had been on the road for five days though, without seeing any signs of orcs.

"I will be grateful once we are on the other side," Arwen said, poking a stick into the campfire they had made for the night. Although the ground was warming, it was still early spring, and the air was cold and brisk around them. Arwen had seemed unusually nervous throughout the journey, jumping at the slightest sounds in the forest.

"There is something wrong in these woods," she said suddenly. Celede frowned, still annoyed with her sister's rebuke back in Rivendell.

"I have sensed nothing."

"Not to worry, my lady," said Henduil cheerfully, "I will protect you and your sister. I'm sure, Celede, that you cannot wait to bathe yourself and change into clean and comfortable clothing once we arrive in Lothlorien."

Celede resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I'm fine, Henduil, really. I am enjoying the journey thus far."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes around the fire. Throughout the duration of their journey, Celede had barely heard a word from the two other guards in their company. They only conferred with Henduil in whispers and otherwise remained behind her or scouted ahead.

"My lady should sleep. We have another long day ahead of us," Henduil said, rising from the fire. He moved to Celede's horse and unpacked her sleeping cloak for her.

"Henduil, that's not necessary," Celede said exasperatedly. Her tone was sharper than she had intended, but Henduil seemed not to notice. He had done this every night thus far.

"It is my pleasure, Lady Celede," Henduil said, pacing around the fire to find the softest patch of ground.

Celede irritatedly stood up to follow Henduil when Arwen grabbed her wrist. She turned to tell Arwen to let go, but when she saw the anxiety in Arwen's face, she froze.

Sleep lightly tonight, Arwen spoke in Celede's mind. There is something amiss in the forest. Some evil is heading our way. I can feel it.

Celede felt her heart speed up nervously.

"I can watch the first shift," she said out loud.

"Nonsense," Henduil replied, finally placing her cloak down in a small clearing, quite far from the campfire. "You need to be well rested, my lady, for our arduous day tomorrow."

Arwen looked at Celede warningly before releasing her wrist and staring back at the fire.

"I will take first shift," Arwen said quietly. Henduil began to protest, but Arwen put up her hand to silence him.

"No arguments," was all she said. Celede grumbled as she walked to her cloak, wishing she could tell Henduil to stop so easily. Heeding Arwen's words, and perhaps to spite Henduil, Celede picked up her cloak and walked closer to the campfire, choosing a secluded place by a fallen log to lie down and wrap her cloak around her. She quickly entered into the light trance of Elvish sleep.

Arwen curled up beside a large tree and watched the surrounding area warily. Once all of the other Elves had retired, Arwen extinguished the fire with a wave of her hand and a few whispered words of Elvish. She then touched the trunk of the tree beside her and closed her eyes, extending her mind into the accepting tree. Her connection with the tree allowed her to expand her senses outward. The distinct feel of evil in the air heightened her apprehension. Orcs, she realized, with a jolt of terror, were encircling the campsite. They were close, far closer than-WHACK.

A thud resounded just above her head and her connection with the tree was suddenly broken. She opened her eyes dizzily and looked up to see an arrow embedded in the tree above her.

"We are under attack!" she cried.

Henduil and the two other Elves leaped to their feet while Celede bolted into a sitting position. She quickly realized her weapons were by her horse, on the other side of the encampment. Henduil cried out and ran towards Celede, one long dagger in each hand. Celede followed his line of sight and turned around to see an orc looming over her with a long, jagged knife. She quickly rolled away as the knife plunged into the earth she had just been lying on.

Jumping to her feet, Celede saw Henduil race past her, decapitate the orc, and turn to attack three more that had appeared in the shadows. Celede ran forwards and yanked the orc's knife out of the ground. As Henduil engaged two of the orcs, Celede rushed the third. It shrieked and raised its knife at her, but she swiftly knocked it aside and instinctively plunged her own knife into its chest. As the orc's black blood began to drip out of its mouth, Celede fought down the bile in her throat and pulled the knife out. The orc slumped to the ground, dead. Celede had never killed before, and now she had ended the life of the orc without a moment's thought or hesitation. She had always been taught to never kill any sort of living creature, and although the orcs may have been exceptions, Celede still felt sick at what she had done.

Frozen in place, she didn't look up to see another orc aiming an arrow at her. When she finally did glance up, it was too late. The arrow fired and she gasped. One of the guard Elves suddenly leaped in front of her, taking the arrow in the shoulder. He fell to the ground with a pained cry, the first sound Celede had ever heard from him, and it wrenched her heart. She looked up again to see the orc nocking another arrow, but the other guard elf nocked his own arrow faster. He aimed with steady hands and released the arrow. After the orc archer was dead, the guard elf ran past Celede to his fallen companion. Celede continued to stand frozen at the sight.

"Celede, move!" Henduil cried to her, "Get to your horse and make for the pass!"

Henduil had never addressed her by name like that before. His voice jolted her back to reality and she turned around. Orcs were flooding the campsite. Arwen had somehow managed to grab her own weapons and was fighting them off as well. The horses were also attacking, trampling as many orcs as they could, rearing and whinnying in anger. As soon as Celede made eye contact with her horse, the animal began to run towards her.

"What about you?" Celede called back to Henduil, finally finding her voice.

"I will be fine. We will try to distract them while you and your sister head for the pass. I promise I will be alright. Go, my lady!"

As her horse flew past her, Celede jumped up and hooked her foot around one of the straps holding her provisions on the horse. Once she was on the horse, Celede grabbed her weapons, slinging her quiver and daggers on her back while grabbing her bow. As she nocked an arrow, she guided her horse back around towards the campsite. An orc was running towards the uninjured guard elf, who was helping his wounded friend mount one of the other horses. Celede aimed and fired the arrow, but her hand shook and the arrow went flying into the orc's ankle instead of his head. His shriek was enough to alert the elf, however, who quickly turned and slammed the side of his dagger into the orc.

By the time Celede entered the campsite, Arwen had also mounted her horse. Celede rushed past as Arwen urged her own horse forward. The pair tore out of the campsite. Celede turned and fired a final arrow behind her, but this one also missed the intended orc's chest and slammed into his arm. She watched Henduil cut the orc down as he mounted his own horse and took off with the other two Elves in the opposite direction. Turning back around, Celede released a sigh of relief. They were going to escape.

Suddenly she heard an arrow whiz by her head, followed by a sudden sharp pain in her calf. Then Arwen shrieked in pain. Celede turned to see an arrow embedded in Arwen's upper back, right above her heart. Arwen lurched forward on her horse, which whinnied in panic and galloped faster into the trees. It was all Celede could do to stay on her own horse as it raced after Arwen. Arrows thudded in the trees around Celede, but she kept her head down and prayed to the Vala that they would lose the orcs soon. Her horse's mane whipped in her face as they fled the arrows that pounded into the nearby trees. Eventually, the hailstorm of arrows became less frequent, and the snarl of orcs faded into the distance. The horses continued to run.

Celede knew Arwen needed to stop as soon as possible, but she also didn't want to stop too soon and risk being attacked again. They needed to keep going, but Arwen seemed to be falling off her horse. Celede urged her horse alongside Arwen's, then swiftly leaped from her horse onto Arwen's horse. She overshot the other horse's back while trying to avoid touching the arrow that still jutted out of Arwen. Celede barely managed to grab onto a rope holding one of Arwen's bags before she slipped onto the horse's other side. Arwen's horse continued to run on, and Celede desperately tried to gain her footing on the ground to push herself back on the horse. The path suddenly narrowed up ahead as a large tree loomed directly in Celede's path.

With a final desperate lunge, Celede pulled herself forward and then kicked off from the ground as the horse ran past. The momentum allowed Celede to pull herself onto the horse just as the tree nicked the horse's side. She wrapped her arms around Arwen, supporting Arwen below the arrow on her left side, and kept her on the horse as it continued to run. Arwen's riding cloak was sticky with blood and her head lolled back onto Celede's shoulder. Blood seeped from one corner of Arwen's lips, and her eyes were closed.

Come on, Arwen, Celede thought desperately. Hang on a little longer.

But for what, Celede didn't know. It was unlikely that there were any friendly faces nearby to assist them this far from Rivendell and Lothlorien. Arwen did not show any sign of a response, increasing Celede's panic. They needed to stop soon. Arwen couldn't handle the jostling of the horse much longer.

When they finally did stop, the moon was still high in the sky. Celede sat still for many moments on the horse, listening for any suspicious sounds and casting her senses about to see if she could detect the orcs. The sound of crickets chirping finally settled her. They would stop if danger was near.

As she dismounted, Arwen fell towards the ground with her. Celede's legs felt like jelly as she hit the ground and her knees buckled, sending both of them to the ground in a heap. Celede left Arwen lying on her side while she ran to her horse and procured a blanket and bandages. Then she went back to Arwen and gently lifted her up to place the blanket underneath her. Arwen was trembling violently, from cold or something worse, Celede didn't know. She placed the bandages beside Arwen, unable to bind the wound until she did something with the arrow. Celede swiftly drew her shorter dagger and cut Arwen's clothes away from the arrow wound. The skin beneath the arrow was an ugly dark color under the moonlight. Celede could not see much more than that. She bit her lip. A fire would help her see and keep Arwen warm but could attract unwanted attention and take too much time to make. After a brief pause, Celede decided she had to make a fire.

The horses helped her gather tinder, for which she was grateful. In much less time than she had expected, a fire was crackling gently beside them. By now, though, Arwen's breathing had become shallow and labored. Celede examined the wound more closely in the light of the fire. Dark blue tendrils streamed unnaturally outward from the wound. The arrow was likely poisoned. Celede closed her eyes and took deep, slow breaths to calm herself. If she lapsed into an episode now, Arwen would die. She repeated to herself over and over that she wasn't afraid, although she knew she was terrified, but she hoped that worry about family was a different sort of stress than anxious nerves, although she was anxious of ambush as well. Don't spasm became a steady mantra in her mind. Fortunately, her body didn't show any signs of unnatural twitching after several moments, so Celede turned back to the task at hand.

Celede had two options now. She could try to remove the arrow or leave it in and try to make it to Lothlorien before Arwen died. She knew that if the arrow had punctured a major blood vessel, leaving the arrow in could act as a stopper for the blood flow. However, if the arrow was poisoned, it needed to be removed as soon as possible. She also didn't know what the tip of the arrow was like. It could be straight or barbed or some other type of arrow tip, and this would affect how she pulled the arrow out.

Perhaps another arrow had embedded itself elsewhere, and she could use it for comparison. Her provisions might have been hit, and then she could figure out what type of arrow the orcs had used. A careful inspection of both horses, however, showed that they had been quite fortunate and completely spared. Celede went back to kneel by Arwen in frustration when she felt a stick jab into her thigh. Surprised, Celede looked down to see an arrow jutting out of her boot, above her ankle. She quickly ripped the boot open.

The arrow had just grazed her calf, a thin line of blood still bled from the shallow wound. Celede pulled the arrow out of the now useless boot. It tugged at the boot and made it quite difficult for Celede to pull it out. She examined the tip carefully in the light of the fire. The arrow seemed straight and smooth, but no simple arrow like that would have required so much force to remove from the boot. When she ran her finger along the arrow from tip to shaft, the arrow seemed perfectly smooth. But then Celede ran her finger the other way and gasped. Something razor sharp and thin had cut open her finger. This strange type of arrow was perfect for entering, but excruciating to remove. What was more, the tip of the arrow was wet with a dark substance. Poisoned.

As if matters couldn't have become worse, Celede faintly sensed a being nearby. Whatever it was, it was still quite far away, but too close for Celede's comfort. Arwen couldn't be moved anymore, however, so Celede would just have to work quickly and hope that whatever was out there would leave them alone.

Celede put her hands around the wound and closed her eyes, directing all her senses into the palm of her hand and into Arwen, just as her father had taught her to do for injured patients so long ago. She felt the weak consciousness that was Arwen hovering faintly at the edges of her mind, and Celede offered what strength she could. Arwen's life grew a little brighter in Celede's mind, but still nowhere near the strength it should have been. Celede also felt the strains of evil coursing out into Arwen's body. It was a dark, pulsating, slippery smoke that nimbly avoided Celede's mind when she tried to force it out of Arwen's system. The arrow itself was an intrusive solid in Arwen's body. It had nicked the major vessel out of the heart, but only just. This meant Celede couldn't push the arrow out of Arwen's other side, as she thought might be less painful given the nature of the arrow. That would only open up Arwen's life vessel even more. Celede had no choice but to remove the arrow the way it came.

With one hand still pressed on Arwen's back around the arrow, Celede grabbed the arrow as close as she could to Arwen's skin. Her eyes remained closed as Celede focused on Arwen's mind.

I have to remove the arrow now, Arwen. It's going to be painful, but I need you to keep quiet, alright? We aren't safe in these woods yet.

Arwen gave no sign of acknowledgement. With a sigh, Celede focused on the arrow, took a deep breath, and yanked as hard upwards as she could.

The arrow tore free from Arwen as Arwen let out a bloodcurdling scream in Celede's mind. Celede felt the sound reverberate in her head and nearly passed out from dizziness. She was grateful Arwen had not screamed aloud, but Celede was forced to blink rapidly to try to dispel the black spots in her vision. Her temples throbbed in pain. Placing both hands over the wound now, from which blood was now rapidly coursing out, Celede whispered feverishly in Elvish, shaking her head to try to clear it some more. She spoke every healing phrase and incantation Elrond had ever taught her, along with prayers to the Vala and a few choice swears when the poison slowed down her efforts to heal Arwen.

Celede worked until Arwen's blood vessel had managed to clot itself, with her help, strongly enough to stop the severe blood loss. Arwen was still bleeding from the other broken vessels when Celede promptly passed out from exhaustion.

When she awoke with a start, her hands still pressed over Arwen's back, the sky had turned a lighter gray as daybreak approached. The fire had gone out and Arwen was trembling, but she was still alive. Celede breathed a sigh of relief that her blunder had not caused irreversible harm and quickly looked around for the bandages. They lay on the edge of the blanket, still clean and white. Celede grabbed for the bandages with one bloodied hand. She was a mess, drenched in Arwen's blood, some of which had started to dry and crust on Celede. She quickly removed Arwen's clothing and wrapped the bandages around her torso. They didn't have many bandages, since they hadn't anticipated an attack, and Celede watched the blood quickly begin to seep through the bandages. She went back to Arwen's horse, who was standing resolutely by the edge of the fire, and wrapped Arwen's own supply of bandages around her. Then Celede wrapped Arwen in the few remaining dry blankets they had. She called gently to Arwen's horse, who came to rest next to Arwen, legs folded neatly inwards as it provided warmth to Arwen. Celede's own horse stood watch over the pair lying on the ground.

That done, Celede stood up and prepared to leave the campsite. Arwen needed more help than Celede could provide. If she could find some athelas, she hoped she could impede the poison long enough to get Arwen to Lothlorien. Celede strapped her quiver and knives to her back and grabbed her bow. She wouldn't be caught without a weapon again. Celede hated to be separated from Arwen for any length of time, but she had to find the plant. Celede swiftly ran into the woods without looking back..

As the sun broke across the Misty Mountains, Celede angrily blew her hair away from her face. After two hours of searching, she had found no sign of the little bush. Irritated, she had just decided to return to the campsite when she heard a branch snap nearby. She jumped behind a tree and nocked an arrow. As she listened for whoever was out there, her gaze fell upon a little bush hiding in the undergrowth beside the tree. Athelas. She had accomplished one part of her mission only to have to face another problem. She sensed a presence coming closer and closer to her tree, the same presence she had felt earlier that night. Celede was surprised and a little unnerved at how little noise the creature was making. If she hadn't sensed the presence, she would not have known something was out there.

Finally, when Celede was sure the presence was directly behind the tree, Celede leaped around the tree and drew her bow.

Although she had planned to fire the arrow immediately at the presence, the sight of four hooded figures in front of her instead of the one presence she had sensed came as a surprise. She couldn't stop herself from letting the bowstring go, however, so she quickly jerked the bow up instead, sending the arrow flying just past one of the figures' hoods and embedding it in a nearby tree. The hooded figure yelped and prepared to draw his own dagger from behind his back, when someone quickly yelled, "Stop!"

Celede blinked in surprise. The speaker spoke in Elvish, and she knew that voice.

"Elrohir?"

The lead Elf drew his hood back, revealing an impish grin framed by long dark hair and pointed ears. His smile vanished almost immediately though as Celede ran to him.

"Celede? By the Vala, are you hurt? There's blood everywhere!"

Celede embraced him tightly. She took deep breaths to stop herself from crying in relief.

"I'm fine. It's not me whose been injured. Oh Elrohir, we were attacked. By orcs. We thought we were safe, and then Henduil told me to get away with Arwen. And then-" Celede took a deep breath to calm herself. She was speaking far too quickly.

Elrohir was holding her tightly, and another Elf was rubbing her back. It was Elladan.

"It's not me whose been injured. It's Arwen," Celede finally choked out, pulling away from her brothers, "She was hit with a poisoned arrow in the chest as we were fleeing."

There was a sharp intake of breath and a harsh curse from behind Elrohir. The third figure removed his hood, and Celede couldn't help but stare at him. He had grown so much since she had last seen him. His hair was shoulder-length and straggly, framing a face that had aged into a mature Man, complete with unshaved stubble. His eyes however, were still the soulful blue ones Celede had remembered, only older and more mature. Estel had grown up.

"I was out here searching for athelas, for the poison," Celede said weakly, "Thanks to you, I found a plant just now. Behind the tree."

Elladan and Estel swiftly ran behind the tree. Celede knew she should move to help them, but now that help had arrived, her drive of urgency had disappeared, replaced by exhaustion. Celede felt herself slowly sink to the ground. Elrohir grabbed her arm and gently helped her sit. She knew she was being weak and pitiful, but her head was pounding and try as she might, she had lost the adrenaline that had been keeping her going. With a final soothing pat on her arm, Elrohir left to confer with Elladan, who had harvested the entire plant.

"I don't want to move her now."

"She has to lead us back to camp, Elrohir, I can follow her tracks back to the camp, but I'm sure she took a long route around the camp looking for the athelas."

"That's alright. I can sense her," Estel interjected, "Arwen, I mean. I know where she is. We haven't any time to lose. But she may need more Elvish healing than Elladan can provide on his own. We all need to move, now."

"I won't move Celede. Look at her, she's half-dead."

"Have Legolas watch over her," Estel's voice whispered through the fog in Celede's head. She wasn't sure she'd heard right. Legolas? Legolas was here? Then she realized she had ignored the fourth member of the party. The presence she had sensed earlier was emanating from him.

She looked up at the still hooded figure. He was the one she'd nearly struck with an arrow. As he slowly removed his hood, the light of the sun shone behind him, casting him in an angelic light. Celede thought she'd never seen a more handsome being in her life. His long blonde hair was pulled back from his face by two thin braids and his bright blue eyes were watching her with concern. He broke eye contact with her to interrupt Elrohir's protests.

"Go tend to your sister. I will help Celede return to the camp. Estel's right. Lady Arwen may need all the help she can get, and I am not a healer like you two are."

Elrohir cast one last, worried look at his youngest sister. Her eyes gazed unseeingly into the forest. Then Celede turned her head and looked straight at Elrohir. The vacancy in her eyes had been replaced by the fiery will Elrohir knew and loved. She would be alright. With a final nod to Legolas, the trio ran off into the forest, back to the campsite. Estel quickly took the lead as the trio raced back to Arwen.

Legolas turned back to Celede. He walked over to her and knelt beside her, putting a soothing hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright, my lady," he said gently, "You're safe now. I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

Celede blinked back tears. He sounded so much like Henduil. If Henduil was dead now, it was because he had been protecting Celede, and all she had done in return was shown him irritation for his care.

"My lady?" Legolas asked, alarmed at the water welling up in Celede's eyes.

"Please," Celede whispered, "Just call me Celede."

"As you wish, my-Celede," Legolas said. A jolt, not unentirely unpleasant, coursed down Celede's spine. My Celede. She found herself suddenly hoping that Legolas would repeat his misspoken words, but purposely. Perhaps even…she mentally shook herself. How irrational of her. She had definitely been more traumatized by this experience than she had thought.

Irritated with herself, Celede stood up suddenly, causing a wave of dizziness to overcome her. She almost fell back down to the ground, but Legolas's firm grip on her shoulder kept her upright.

"That was not the best idea," he said.

"Agreed. Shall we return to camp?"

"Are you able to?"

"Of course I am," said Celede impatiently, "I'm not a complete invalid."

The corner of Legolas's lips twitched.

"As you wish," was all he said.

They began to walk slowly back to camp. Celede would have liked to have moved faster, but she just couldn't get her body to move any quicker. Legolas didn't seem to mind, one arm supporting hers as they meandered back to camp.

"So how did you end up with my brothers?" Celede asked in an attempt at conversation.

Legolas shrugged. Even his shrug was lithe and beautiful.

"I was part of the Mirkwood contingent Rivendell requested last winter. I ran into your brothers and Estel by chance. They persuaded me to come with them, saying Rivendell would be fine without me. We traveled down to Lothlorien and found the orcs there had gone to attack Rivendell. That was when Elladan and Elrohir decided it was time to return to Rivendell and help out. We were on our way back to Rivendell when we ran into you, or rather, when you ambushed us and almost impaled me with an arrow."

Celede laughed.

"I am sorry about that," she said sincerely, "But I'm glad our paths crossed when they did,"

"As am I."

They lapsed into silence.

Then Legolas stopped abruptly. Celede looked at him questioningly. He was looking at the ground, however. Celede looked down too and would have blushed if she had the energy to. She had been walking around with one boot on, and Legolas was looking at her bare foot. Like the rest of herself, it was covered in dirt and blood.

"My lady, you are bleeding!' Legolas said concernedly.

"What?" said Celede wearily, "And I thought I told you to call me Celede."

Legolas ignored her and guided her to a fallen tree. Without saying anything, he swiftly put his hands around her waist and hoisted her up onto the log. Celede gasped in surprise, but Legolas only stared intently at Celede's leg. She looked too. The shallow wound had turned an ugly purplish color and was oozing a mixture of red blood and black pus. She had forgotten that the poison on the arrow could have affected her too.

"I thought it was just a shallow cut, and then I forgot about it," she said lamely. It didn't hurt, even when Legolas gently touched the purple area around the wound.

"Still, you will be one of the dead instead of just the walking dead if you leave this unattended," Legolas finally spoke. Celede began to protest, but Legolas scooped her up into his arms and began to carry her through the woods. Although he was breaking all sorts of proprietary rules, Celede's heartbeat quickened at their proximity. He was carrying her as easily as he would a small child, and she now had good reason to wrap her arms around his neck and feel the silken hair beneath her hands.

Legolas scanned the path ahead, following the trail Estel and the others had set to head back to camp. Celede passed the time looking up at him, studying the features of his face intently. His eyebrows were knitted in a serious expression, but the twinkle in his eyes revealed the humorous and caring person she was coming to discover underneath his princely façade.

"I know I'm quite charming and handsome, but having a beautiful maiden stare at me for such a long period of time is especially flattering," he said suddenly, causing Celede to jump and blush. She thought it was probably a good sign that her body was becoming well enough to blush, although this meant she couldn't hide her embarrassment.

"I-uh," she began, but Legolas only laughed. His deep voice reverberated in his chest, and Celede felt the urge to lean in closer to him and feel his muscular chest vibrate with mirth. Which made her blush even more.

"Ah, here we are," Legolas said, gently lowering Celede by the side of a moving stream, "It's not far away from your camp now, but I thought you should try to rinse some of that blood off and clean your wound."

"It's not a wound," said Celede, "More like a scratch."

"If it kills you, does it matter?" Legolas replied mock sternly, "Now I suggest you take care of it. I promised your brothers I would take care of you, and that is what I plan to do."

Celede sighed and obediently waded into the stream. It was colder and deeper than she had expected, but she couldn't help but sigh in delight as the blood and dirt that had been caked all over her washed away in the stream. She leaned over and splashed water on her arms, her face, everywhere she could to cleanse herself. When she finally walked back out of the water, her clothing was still stained red and brown and she was shivering from the cold, but she felt rejuvenated. Legolas had been rummaging through his pack while she washed, and now he returned to her with a dry cloak, some bandages, and athelas. Celede cast her eyes around and found the plant he had taken the leaves from. She wondered how many other plants she had missed during her hasty search earlier that morning. Her panic about Arwen increased and she began to move past Legolas towards the camp. She had to make sure Arwen was alright.

One of Legolas's strong arms caught her around the waist.

"Whoa, where do you think you are going, huh?" he asked.

"Arwen-"

"is going to be fine. And you are not going to be if you keep traipsing around with a poisoned wound. Now sit down," he said sternly. Celede sat with a huff, taking the proffered cloak and draping it around her. It smelled like Legolas, all pine and oak and earth.

"This may sting a bit," Legolas said as he prepared to apply the athelas and some other herb Celede recognized as an herb that fought infection.

Legolas applied the mixture to her leg, and Celede clenched her teeth to avoid gasping in pain. She didn't want to show Legolas any sign of weakness.

"Now look what you've done. It wasn't hurting before you started working on it," Celede muttered. Legolas looked up at her and she forced her jaw to relax. He seemed to see right through her, though.

"Tough maiden," he said nonchalantly as he began to wrap Celede's calf. His hands worked slowly and methodically, so gently that Celede barely felt the knot being tied.

As soon as he was done, though , Celede was on her feet and heading towards the camp.

"You should rest, you know," Legolas said behind her as he walked swiftly to catch up. She was nearly running back to the camp.

"I don't know what you hope to accomplish collapsing at your sister's side," he muttered under his breath as he raced to catch up.

"I heard that!" Celede called back.

This time, Legolas couldn't hold back his grin.

ooOOoo

Arwen was drifting. She vaguely recalled what had happened. An arrow had slammed into her back while she and Celede were fleeing. She hoped Celede was alright. Arwen knew Celede had been by her side, tending to her, but then Celede had suddenly disappeared. If Celede was injured or worse, Arwen didn't know what she would do. She had left Celede without reconciling their argument, which was all her fault, and she needed Celede to live to tell her sister that.

Then a hand, warm and callused, wrapped around hers. She knew that hand, remembered holding that hand so long ago. But that was impossible. He couldn't actually be here.

"My lady Arwen, listen to me. You are safe now. We can take care of you. I will take care of you. But please open your eyes. Wake up, my lady."

The voice confirmed who Arwen thought it was, but still, that was impossible. She must have been hallucinating. Maybe this was how one died.

"Wake up, Arwen," the voice continued to plead with her. Didn't he know that it hurt too much to be conscious in her wounded body? But she could not resist his plea. She couldn't resist anything about Aragorn.

Arwen finally opened her eyes, choking back a sob as she felt the full extent of her injury come slamming full force into her mind. Then she was staring into Aragorn's face, into the bright blue eyes she loved and longed for, and the pain receded a bit.

"You're here," she whispered incredulously, "You are really here."

Aragorn had tears in his eyes.

"Yes, my lady," he whispered back, "And I won't leave you. Everything is going to be alright. I promise."

Arwen closed her eyes again, tightening her grip on Aragorn's hand. He was right. Of course he was. He was Aragorn, after all. Everything was going to be alright.