Winter dragged on, or so it seemed to Celebriel. More travelers came to take refuge from the winter weather in Imladris before resuming their journeys in the spring. At times Imladris seemed crowded with strangers speaking strange languages and Celebriel wondered how Elrond could find room for them all.

But winter did not last forever, and eventually, the snow began to melt, causing the waters of the Bruinen (*the Loudwater) to swell, as undoubtedly was happening to the Celebrant in Lorinand. The Men and Women who had taken refuge in Elrond's house began to leave and continued their journeys to the west or east.

Celebriel had not wasted her time and occupied herself with studying the maps on the walls, and what she could glean from Elrond's study. She'd made careful copies, leaving out no detail. If she could not ride out into the Wildlands, at least she could use the maps for reference. Her efforts would come in handy one day.

Even though she had the visit of Gandalf to look forward to, she continued to be unhappy in Imladris and wanted to leave—badly. The only question was, could she do it on her own?

And if she did manage to leave, where would she go? She was homesick, badly homesick, for Lorinand, but that was where she would be expected to flee, and therefore she could not go. And she knew she must seek refuge among her own kind, she had too little experience of men to seek their company. And there were many men who were allies of Elrond, and who knows? They might send her back. Wherever it was, it must be far enough away from Imladris, yet not so far that she could not make the journey on her own.

There was only one logical place: the Lasgalen (*The Greenwood, which became known as Mirkwood). It was a risk, but Thranduil was kin through her father Celeborn, and perhaps he would welcome her. She had yet to see any of the wood elves come to Imladris or emissaries received by Elrond from Thranduil. Though there was no open enmity, the Silvan elves had little love for the High Elves. Maybe Thranduil would agree to give her sanctuary and not notify either Elrond or her family in Lorinand. If she could talk him into it.

Maybe, maybe, maybe, she thought. This is a risk, but a calculated one. I've studied the maps and I think I can find my way, I've made drawings to carry with me so I know the landmarks. I know where the passes are, and so far we've heard no news of orcs making themselves openly known. Besides, a lone traveler draws less attention than a group. And I'm not afraid to travel on my own—well, maybe that's not quite true, but I will have to do it someday and why not start now?

I've been well taught, I've had good teachers. Haldir would soon be sending me out on my own, so maybe now's the time to start. My biggest danger will come from here—what if they decide to track me? If I go to the Las Galen will they follow my trail there, or will they automatically look for me on the road to Lorinand? I need to find a way to buy time and keep them off my trail, somehow, I just don't know if I can do this successfully. Why oh why did I let myself be persuaded to come here in the first place.

But when can I leave? I have to wait until the floods subside somewhat. There is a bridge over the Bruinen, and I'll use it if I can, rather than ford the river. I can carry dried fruits and bread, and maybe a flask of miruvor. I can survive by hunting, as long as there is game to be found. I'll need to carry oats for Ariel because outside of what new grass and plants we find, there won't be much for her to eat.

The biggest wrench would be sending Ariel back to Imladris when she reached the mountains. It would be rough going there for a horse, and she would not subject her beloved mare to harm. She knew that Ariel could find her way back to Imladris on her own, and with minimal risk of harm. Like it or not, the last part of her journey would have to be made on foot.

When would be the best time to leave, she wondered? The days were growing longer, albeit slowly, and as they did the weather became warmer. She wanted to leave before the Solstice because in the long days and moonlit nights it would be harder for her to leave unnoticed. She had learned the ways of Imladris and knew there were secret paths that led in and out that only the elves knew, and those hidden ways she would utilize to make her escape.

The elves would hold a feast for the Equinox. Though not as important as Mid-Summer's Eve, the days were growing longer and on the night of the Equinox, the elves would celebrate the end of winter and the coming of spring. The elves of Imladris, like those of Lorinand, loved to hold feasts and celebrate. Good food and better wine would flow freely, and all were welcome to join the celebration.

Maybe in the middle of the merry making she could slip away unnoticed. She could steal away to her room, change her clothes and fetch her horse from the stables. She could lead Ariel across the bridge over the Bruinen, and then mount up and disappear into the night.

It was an ambitious plan, and she knew it. She would carry a lantern, but not light it until she was sure it could not be seen. She was not afraid to travel at night, but was aware she was not familiar with the road she had chosen and would have to proceed with caution. The plan was crazy, she knew, but perhaps it was just crazy enough to succeed.

She hoped Gandalf would not appear until she was gone. He was wise, and perhaps he would be able to sense her plans. He might even tell his suspicions to Elrond and thwart her. No, she needed to be gone before he returned. She would be sorry to miss him, but it could not be helped.

Slowly, carefully, she began to make preparations. She was in and out of the kitchens and pantries often enough that no one seemed to notice she was carrying out bags of food. The dried fruits that she stole were intended to supplement the food she planned to hunt. Bread would have to be taken at the last minute, but she took two flasks of miruvor to help sustain her on the long ride. The maps had shown that several small streams ran through the forest, but she had water skins that she planned to fill from the Bruinen after she left.

Haldir might not approve of what she was doing, she thought, but he would approve of how she was going about it. The lessons he had taught her were not going to waste, she knew how to prepare for a journey, but knew full well she did not know what was at the end of it.

She looked up at the sky, counting the days until the Equinox. The days grew longer, a welcome respite from the gloom of winter. The snow cleared and the waters of the Bruinen subsided a little, though the spring flood had not yet come to a halt. The trees began slowly to bud and soon the branches would be full of the new green leaves, leaves as green as Celebriel's eyes.

At last the Equinox came, and the elves of Elrond's household, weary after the long winter's dark, held a feast to welcome it.

Arwen and Celebriel dressed themselves in gowns like silver tissue. Celebriel now had grown more aware of her beauty and noticed the smiles of appreciation that she and Arwen received from the many guests attending. Arwen sat with Elrond and Celebrian, but Celebriel moved amongst the crowd. She waited anxiously for the hour to grow late, so she could slip away, unnoticed and retreat to her room to change. Then she would grab her supplies and run to the stables, saddle Ariel and make her way carefully out of Imladris and to the deep woods.

And it almost worked, and would have had it not been for Glorfindel. He had been drinking generously of Elrond's wine, but elves held their liquor well. She was coming out of her room, bags and her bedroll in hand when he found her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice a little thick from the wine he had drunk, "Or rather, should I ask where are you planning to go?" He took her wrist in his hand and held it tightly, she did not struggle knowing that it would do no good."

"Please, Glorfindel, let me go. If you were ever my friend, please let me go."

"So, the daughter of the Lord and Lady seeks to leave the shelter of her sister's house? Where is it that you plan to go and what makes you think you can get there unhindered?"

"There are no reports of orcs about and that is the only thing I would be afraid of. I am not Arwen, I will not starve in the wilderness alone. If I fear anything it is that I will be caught and brought back here. If you try to keep me from leaving now, it will not stop me. I will try and try again until I succeed. I never wanted to come here, and I have made it plain that I do not wish to stay. Now, will you let me go, please? I want to leave before the sun comes up, and that is in a few hours."

He let her go and stepped back. "You are making a mistake, Celebriel, you would do better to stay here. I will not give you away, but if I do not hear word soon that you are safe, I will look for you."

He watched as she ran swiftly down the stairs and out of the house. "Good bye, little Nariel, until we meet again."

The stables proved a temporary haven. She found her saddle and bridle and led Ariel from her stall. "I am sorry to wake you, my lady, but we have a long ways to travel tonight. We're leaving this place and though you will be returning, I will not. We need to leave before anyone knows we're gone."

She placed saddle and bridle on her horse, then loaded her saddlebags with her food and supplies. A few delicacies from the feast made it into the bags, one last treat that she would not enjoy again for a very long time.

She led her among the backways to the bridge over the Bruinen, then stopped to fill her water skins. Once over the bridge she swung up into the saddle and said simply, "Come on, let's go."

It was pleasant riding at night, and she was almost reluctant to see the sun rise, but it better enabled her to read the carefully-drawn maps she had brought with her. Soon, however, she found that she did not need them and relied on her memory to guide her.

She hated to do it, but she pushed her horse hard, eager to put as much distance between her and Imladris as she could. She would be looked for, but not immediately unless Glorfindel gave her away. And she hoped that they would look to the south, thinking that she would run back to Lorinand. Surely scouts would be sent in all directions, but they would concentrate on the road south, of that she was sure.

And she had hours ahead of them, at least. They would not notice that she was gone at first. Then they would search Imladris, unless Elrond guessed that she had left. If they followed her tracks, they would know the direction she was heading, but not where she planned to go. She did not like the uncertainty of her situation, but she would handle it as best she could.

She did not stop until late that night. She unloaded her bedroll and gave Ariel her nosebag. The meal she ate was quick, but in truth she was too tired to be very hungry. She did not build a fire, but wrapped herself up in her blankets and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

She woke up stiff, unaccustomed now to sleeping on the ground. She fed Ariel, then searched about for some dry wood to start a fire. It took some effort, but soon the flames were crackling and she could warm her hands over the fire.

She ate sparingly, remembering the wood elves lesson. Make your food last as long as you can, and whenever possible hunt for it. There wasn't much yet, but she had seen rabbits and squirrels, and if she could find a stream, there would be fish to catch. Going through the High Pass would be a challenge, but it would be a trip of one or two days at the most.

She would have to send Ariel back after she went through the pass. It would be wrench to let her go, but the journey through the Lasgalen would have to be made on foot. There was no need to attract attention for she was sure that the wood elves would find her eventually.

And what then? She did not know. Thranduil could send her back to Imladris if he chose. The elves of the greenwood were independent, and she was hoping that she could make a case for being allowed to stay. She would leave and return to Lorinand as soon as it was possible. She was not accustomed to throwing herself on someone's mercy, but that was just what she would do.