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. Legolas has known her since birth, but can he help her face her demons?

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Branwen sat quietly on her branch over the pool, watching as the spirits passed back and forth below her. She wasn't sure why this place seemed so peaceful for her when it was so crowded with spirits. Maybe it was because these spirits were Elves at peace with themselves and the way their lives had ended. They exuded a sense of joy and peace. This was her sanctuary as much as it was the spirits'. It was here she came when she needed to clear her head. Sometimes the spirits noticed the young woman watching them and they would speak to her. They told her incredible stories. Whenever one had told a story that seemed incredibly personal they would fade away and disappear. It was as if they had to tell one of the living their story before moving on.

A flickering image appeared in the middle of the pool. Branwen's eyes widened in shock as the image became a young woman. The girl's face was stark white, her lips blue, water dripped from her body. Her eyes locked with Branwen. The princess felt cold all over as if the icy waters of the pools were swallowing her up. The last thing she knew was she was falling.

Legolas heard a splash through the trees to his right. He turned to investigate. At first he saw nothing but ripples. Then a body floated to the surface. Legolas did not wait to see who it was before pulling off his cloak and rushing to their aid.

He lifted the body onto the shore and looked at the face. His heart froze when he recognized Branwen's still form. She wasn't breathing and had no pulse.

"Wake up," he whispered as he worked feverishly in his attempts to bring her back to life.

The princess's body shook violently as she coughed up water and drew in deep gulps of air. She was cold, tired, and frightened. Tears flowed down her cheeks as the memory of what had happened returned to her.

Legolas gathered her in his arms and rocked her back and forth, his own body shaking as his heart slowly returned to its normal pace. He had been so afraid he'd lost her.

"What happened?" Legolas asked her once she'd stopped crying.

"I—I don't really know," she whispered, trembling, "One moment I was watching the spirits move about when suddenly a girl who appeared to have drowned was standing in the middle of the pond. I have never felt as hopeless and sad as I did when she looked at me. All I could think about was ending the horrible pain. Then I was falling." She shuddered at the memory.

The Elven Prince held her tighter. He had never realized that Branwen could see the spirits. Only a select few Elves could. His brother Rochendil had been one of the few who could. As with Branwen, Rochendil had few friends and had held great power. Similar characteristics marked the three others Legolas knew of. Seeing spirits was often described as a peaceful thing, but every once in a great while the Watcher encountered a violent spirit. Branwen had encountered one like that.

"It was simply a violent spirit," he whispered tenderly, "It can't hurt you now."

"No," she replied, "It wasn't a normal spirit. I've encountered violent spirits before. This girl was different. It was as if she was still attached to the living."

"How can you tell?" he asked, looking at her strangely.

"She was projecting her emotions," Branwen answered softly. "No spirit of the dead can force me to feel an emotion. She forced me to feel those emotions." A shiver ran down her body.

Legolas picked up his discarded cloak and wrapped it around his charge's shoulders.

"Let's get you back to your rooms and get into something dry," he said, helping her to her feet. Legolas kept one arm around her shoulders as they moved back to the settlement. He worried for the young woman. She was alone among the Elves. No one was close enough to be a friend to her and she was forced to deal with an incredible array of powers.

Three Days Later

Legolas gave the young woman a gentle hug.

"Do you really have to leave so soon?" Branwen asked, tilting her face up to look at him. She'd barely had time to get to know the Elf again and he was leaving. It wasn't fair.

"I promised your father I'd be back in time for the twins' birthday," Legolas told her.

Branwen looked down at the ground. She had forgotten that her parents had new daughters now. No matter what they had said, it felt as though they'd banished her. She almost never saw them and they rarely contacted her.

Legolas noticed the sadness in the young woman's features. He lifted her chin gently so that he could look her in the eyes.

"Branwen, if you ever need someone to talk to, please know that I am always willing to listen," he said.

The princess gave a small smile at his words.

Legolas pressed a small object into the princess' hand. She looked down at a small leaf carved from green jade. The pendant hung on a soft leather thong.

"My promise to you," he murmured.

The princess lifted the pendant to tie it around her neck. Legolas stayed her hand and took the leather pieces. Branwen lifted her soft hair out of the way to give Legolas a clear view of the knot he was tying.

"Thank you," Branwen said, hugging him tightly once the necklace was in place.

Legolas felt himself react strangely to her touch. He extracted himself from her embrace and gave her a soft smile before mounting his horse. The stallion wheeled about and left the haven of the Elves.

Branwen watched after Legolas until she could no longer see him. Her fingers reached up to brush over the surface of her pendant and a small sad smile touched the corners of her mouth. If only she had the courage to tell him what was truly wrong with her. If only he could know.