Summary: "And thus it was that a Fourth Age of Middle-earth began, and the Fellowship of the Ring, though eternally bound by friendship and love, was ended." Branwen, the first child of Queen Arwen and King Aragorn, is as wild as the wind and as beautiful as her Great-Grandmother Galadriel. The task of her training has fallen upon the capable shoulders of Aragorn's closest friend, Legolas Greenleaf.

Branwen took a deep breath as she looked down from her perch at the party below her. The Elves who had arrived for the party were greeting first Galadriel and Celeborn, then Aragorn and Arwen. There were many Elves as well a few humans and, to her immense surprise, a dwarf.

"Lady Branwen?" someone called from behind her.

The princess turned to find Darien waiting at the head of the stairs for her. He was dressed in a silken tunic with the White Tree of Gondor upon his chest.

"Darien!" Branwen glided toward him, a bright smile upon her face. She slipped her arm through his and allowed him to lead her down the stairs towards the party.

"You look beautiful tonight," he murmured in her ear. Darien's stomach fluttered when she turned her delighted smile on him.

Legolas watched as the young woman descended the stairs on the arm of the guard. He had been right three years ago when he'd seen how she'd one day become a vision of beauty. The soft blue dress looked perfect on her. Tonight she wore no shawl; rather the dress was twisted on the front to cover the scar and then wrapped around her neck. Long sleeves were secured to her arms by golden bands around her upper arms and at her wrists.

As the princess crossed the ballroom floor, many came forward to wish her a happy birthday. Many of the Elves she knew from around Lorien, some had come from Rivendell, and a few of the officials from the human villages had come.

"This enchanting girl can't possible be your daughter, Aragorn," Gimli teased, nudging his friend. "She is much too beautiful."

Aragorn chuckled, "And for a time we thought she would be more like me than her mother."

"Legolas, old friend," the dwarf said, "I can't believe that you have not placed some claim on her."

Legolas shot a startled glance at his friend. "What?"

"She is beautiful and from what I have heard from the nearby villagers, very kind and helpful. You trained her in combat and know her better than anyone else," Gimli commented.

"That is where you are mistaken," the Elf murmured. "There is one who knows her far better than I."

Gimli heard the regret in Legolas' voice and noticed that the prince had not taken his eyes off of Branwen since she had entered the party. Now, as the dancing had begun, Legolas was following her twirling figure about with his eyes.

The dwarf grinned cheekily at Aragorn and stood up from his seat. "I am going to see if your daughter would allow this old dwarf the honor of a dance or two." With that he left his two best friends behind and started after the princess.

Darien was slightly winded by the fast dances the Elves were playing. He was unused to the faster pace of Elvish dancing and Branwen was spirited.

"You look tired, lad," a deep voice said from below his eye level.

Darien looked down and Branwen lowered her eyes slightly to see the dwarf standing beside them.

"My name is Gimli, son of Gloin," the dwarf introduced with a bow. "May I have the honor of the next dance, Lady Branwen?"

Branwen glanced first at Darien who nodded at her encouragingly. "Of course!" she answered delightedly. This was the first time she had ever come into contact with one of her father's friends from the Fellowship other than Legolas. Of the dwarf, she had her many interesting tales.

Again a faster song played out. Gimli led Branwen into a series of quick steps that had them practically flying across the ground. It seemed to Branwen that such grace and agility did not quite fit with her idea of dwarves.

"You do yourself proud, lass," Gimli complimented her when the dance had ended. "I must say, you are a far better dancer than your father. I've seen him dance a few rounds and then slump into a chair all out of breath."

"Don't be telling untruths, old friend," the king chided from behind the pair.

"Ada!" Branwen dropped into small curtsy.

"They're no untruths," the dwarf defended. "Prove me wrong if they are."

"Very well," Aragorn conceded. He stretched his hand out to Arwen.

"Excuse me, Branwen," her father said a twinkle in his eye. "I have my honor to defend."

Branwen stepped aside to allow her parents passage. Darien reclaimed her a moment later.

"I find myself to be a rather poor dancer in comparison," the young man told her with a blush as they began yet another dance.

"You're just fine," Branwen assured him. "But when did you learn to dance?"

He laughed. "Only about a week before your father ordered us to begin the trip here."

"Well, you're doing beautifully for only learning a few weeks ago," the princess reassured him.

The dance ended and as the couple prepared to start another Legolas appeared behind Darien and tapped him on the shoulder.

"May I cut in?" he asked softly, looking more at Branwen than the young man beside him.

"Certainly, Lord Legolas," Darien said hastily. He backed away from the Elven Lord.

"Branwen," Legolas said gently, extending his hand.

Taking a breath she placed her hand gingerly in his. Legolas' hand slipped to the small of her back as a slower dance began.

"Forgive me for being so short with you yesterday," the Elf apologized.

"I forgive you," Branwen told him in a voice so soft as to be a whisper. She hesitantly allowed her eyes to move up to his face only to find herself trapped by his gray eyes.

Legolas had to stop himself from drawing in a sharp breath of surprise. Branwen's eyes were now far more blue than green. It had been a long time since he had last seen her. It had taken him several hours to realize that it really was Branwen with her golden hair last night, now he had to come to grips with the fact that the bright green eyes he had known for so long were gone.

"You look lovely," he murmured to her as she spun slowly back into his arms.

"Thank you," she whispered, an embarrassed blush creeping over her cheeks.

Legolas could tell he was making her uncomfortable. He could feel it in her tense body whenever they touched and hear it in her quiet voice. Perhaps his sharp response the previous afternoon had made her distrust him. It had taken a long time for her to even speak to him when she was young, but she had reverted almost immediately to her younger, quieter personality around him.

"I am sorry," he repeated quietly as he handed her back to her waiting escort.

Branwen did not have a chance to respond as Legolas turned and vanished into the crowd that had formed during the dancing.

The remainder of the evening she spent in Darien's company. Branwen became more relaxed as the evening wore on, talking more to him and the other guests, even laughing and smiling. All thoughts of her former mentor disappeared from her mind.

The Next Morning

Branwen donned her usual simple gown and shawl to bid her family farewell.

"Must you leave so soon, Nana?" she asked, giving Arwen a tight hug.

"I'm afraid so," the queen replied. "It's not fair for Faramir to be in charge of your father's problems for so long."

Three days is long? Branwen wondered to herself. She said good-bye to her father and siblings before looking around for her friend.

Darien caught Branwen's attention with a small wave of his hand. She hurried over to say good-bye to him.

"Will I ever get to see you again?" he asked her.

"Maybe," she replied. "I may get to come home in two years for my younger brother's induction into the guard. If he makes it."

"Eldarion is a good warrior," Darien acknowledged.

Branwen gazed longingly at the armor her younger brother wore. She had once dreamed of wearing the initiate guard armor. Now she was practically banished from Gondor.

"I look forward to seeing you someday," Darien whispered as the two friends embraced for the last time. He kissed her hand before vaulting into the saddle.

Branwen stood, staring after them, longing to join them on the journey back to Minas Tirith. Her gaze rested again on Eldarion and her mouth tightened jealously. Legolas was instructing Eldarion in the same way her had instructed Branwen only a few years before. She had not been as special as he had told her after all.

Turning on her heel, Branwen strode purposefully to her workshop. She had a list of chores the villagers needed her help with.

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A/N: Okay, so the chapter is a lot shorter than the other and definitely moves faster. I'm really excited to start work on the next few chapters so that's why it's so short. Please review!