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.

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Rain fell in heavy torrents from the sky, turning dirt roads into streams of mud and former homes into piles of rubble. In the main hall of the village the people huddled together. The only thing holding the hall up was the power of the young woman who came down from the Elves.

The rain finally subsided and the sky cleared. People emerged from their dwelling to view the damage. Most of the newest houses had collapsed under the torrential rains, leaving most of the town without homes.

Branwen looked at the damage. It had to be repaired before the next storm came through. With a quick twist of her hand, her gown had been replaced by work tunic and leggings. She held her hand out over the mud, attempting to draw out the moisture so that building could begin.

As the ground dried, those whose homes had survived the rains aided the others in building homes that could hold up in another storm, another storm they knew to be approaching quickly.

The villagers were running short on supplies due to crop failures and they were short on building materials. A caravan was due to arrive in three days carrying the needed supplies from another village. Branwen intended to be there. The day the caravan was supposed to cross the nearby ravine was the day on which the next heavy rains were to fall. With all the extra rain coming, the ravine had widened considerably. The bridge supports were now precariously exposed, and two had already fallen. The bridge was incredibly weak. If it collapsed now, the villagers would likely starve. The Elves couldn't support the villagers for the time it would take to reconstruct a bridge or to get a caravan around the obstruction.

Branwen had to be present when the caravan was going to attempt the crossing to keep the bridge from collapsing beneath the precious cargo.

Three Days Later

Branwen took a deep breath and held her hand out over the bridge just as the rain began to fall. Not far in the distance she could hear the approaching caravan. The bridge groaned audibly as the rain fell in sheets, pounding against the punished planks. The young woman held the bridge steady in the howling wind and kept the slippery mud in place. She could not afford to fail tonight for any reason and so she shut herself off, focusing solely on the task at hand. Her shields slid effortlessly into place and her mind shut off all outside information other than that she needed to protect this caravan.

Eight Hours Later

Legolas was sitting up with Haldir, talking when Lady Galadriel arrived in the room.

"Branwen's gone," she told them flatly.

"Where could she have gone?" Legolas asked, looking slightly worried.

"I'm not sure," Galadriel admitted softly. "She has shut herself off from me. I can't track her when she shuts herself off. In this state anything could happen to her and I would never know. The only times she is totally shut off from me are when she does it purposely or is unconscious."

Haldir looked thoughtful for a moment.

"What about the bridge? Even though you forbid her to go, I think she may have gone on her own," he murmured.

"But which one?" Galadriel asked. "There are four bridges in danger of collapse right now."

Legolas shut his eyes for a moment. In that moment he felt a sharp tug on his mind to one direction. East. The pull startled him. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he felt strongly that it was Branwen.

"She's to the east," he told them.

Both looked at him, startled. He stood up and started for the door.

"I'm going to check on her," he announced, pulling a cloak over his head.

At the Bridge

Legolas arrived at the bridge in time to see the last member of the caravan guard stumble across the bridge and onto solid ground. The townspeople flocked around the newly arrived caravan, blocking Legolas' view. Then for a second the crowd parted, allowing the prince a glimpse of Branwen. She was looking incredibly pale and drained.

The crowd parted for the Elf as he strode towards her.

Branwen took a shaky step away from the bridge edge when the mud beneath her feet gave out. Completely exhausted, the girl was unable to catch herself.

Legolas was there in an instance, his body wrapped around the still grounded bridge post and his hand around her wrist.

The princess hung nearly unconscious from his grip.

"Branwen," he called to her. "You've got to hold on for a few more minutes."

She didn't seem to even hear him. Instead she sagged in his grip, her rain slicked hand sliding in the Elf's grip. Legolas realized that she had spent all her energy on her spells and now had no strength to even hold on.

With a swift tug, Legolas had pulled the princess up enough to wrap his arm around her waist. The villagers sprang into action, grasping the unconscious girl and her rescuer, pulling them away from the edge.

Branwen lay unconscious in the mud, her skin a ghostly white. Legolas checked to make sure she had no serious injuries before lifting her effortlessly into his arms and carrying her back to his horse.

The Next Morning

Branwen woke slowly, her head pounding. She must have used more of her magic than she had realized. Next time she would need to make sure of just how long it might take and prepare specifically for that event, and be much more careful around cliff edges.

A slight rustle of cloth beside the bed alerted her to her visitor. The girl's eyes landed on Legolas who was sitting only a few feet away, his elbows resting on his knees and his chin resting on his folding hands. His expression was blank.

"Branwen," he began. The princess didn't let him finish his sentence, she already knew what he was going to say.

"I know, I know," she muttered bitterly. "I probably scared Daernana and Daerada to death by disappearing like that and nearly got killed by getting involved in affairs that were not my own. This stunt only proved that I need to be treated more like a child. Sneaking out of the palace to stick my nose where it didn't belong, not leaving a note for Daernana or Daerada, and ignoring my responsibility to the people of Gondor were no ways to prove that I should be taken seriously." She turned her face away from the Elf.

Legolas sat quietly for a long moment. He recognized the same basic words he'd said to her nearly four years before. It shocked him that the first words she expected to hear from his mouth were words of rebuke.

"Branwen," Legolas tried again. "I was just going to say that you should be a bit more careful."

He paused for a moment. Then said, "What you did was the right thing. The villagers needed your help desperately. Without it they would have starved to death. I am not angry with you or even disappointed."

The Elf reached out and gently turned her head to face him. His gray eyes met her bright blue eyes squarely.

"Have I fallen so far in your eyes?" He stopped speaking and simply sat, staring into her eyes.

Tears filled Branwen's eyes for reasons she did not understand. Legolas lifted her up and cradled her against his chest.

They simply sat there in silence, Legolas stroking Branwen's hair as she cried. He was unsure as to the reasons behind her tears, but he chose to say nothing.

"I'm sorry," she kept whispering, over and over again. Legolas hushed her gently, reassuring her with soft strokes against her hair. He held her to him until she cried herself out and fell asleep again.

Legolas lowered the princess gently into her pillows, his fingertips lingered lightly on her cheek for a moment longer. His gaze was soft and tender. Had she awoken then, Branwen would have instantly known just how much he cared for her. She might never again have found it in her heart to say anything cruel to him.

"Rest, Branwen," he murmured, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. He left the room quickly, unsure of himself and of what had happened.