[Written with respect for, but no ownership in, the works of J.R.R. Tolkein, Peter Jackson, Philippa Boyens, and Fran Walsh. I own only the elf girl. Maybe a few adjectives, tops.]

25 December, 3018. Third Age.

Anarwen surveyed the landscape before her. From her perch on the stone seat, she could view the whole of Imladris below, the pillared east-facing porch of Elrond's house, the Bruinen cutting through the steep valley, the stone bridge and main path that would lead the Fellowship on their way.

The mist that had hung close to the river at dawn had burned away with the Sun's rising. Anarwen squinted to mark the passage of Anor, for which she was named, through the sky. Mid-afternoon. She had been here all day.

For the last 15 minutes she had been listening to the loud noises of a dwarf making its way up the terrace path. They can hear him in Goblin-town by now, she thought. Anarwen wanted to be left alone. A dwarf was a particularly unwelcome prospect, but she could not return just yet. The Company was to leave at dusk. She would not go back to Elrond's house until just before that time.

Gimli let out a gasping breath as he reached the top of the path. Bent over, sweating, and grumbling in his own tongue, he did not notice the elf sitting on the bench across from him.

"Good afternoon, Master Dwarf."

Gimli jerked up at Anarwen's greeting. It was a moment before he recognized her from the council. His eyes narrowed, and he remembered a few of her harsh words from the previous day's debate. "Hrmph…"

Anarwen lowered her legs from where they had been pulled up against her chest. Self-conscious and awkward at the thought of speaking to this dwarf, she shifted her gaze away. She caught sight of Legolas far down the slope near the stable. He was speaking to Dormallen and Antion. Maybe he is looking for me. Then she remembered that there was no reason for him to seek her. She was no longer bound to his service.

Gimli followed the elf's stare down the hill to the party of Mirkwood elves. The princeling was handing over a packet to one of the others. Turning back to Anarwen, Gimli sized up her distracted expression. Lovers' spat, he thought, with a small measure of satisfaction.

Anarwen would have been incredulous at Gimli's assumption had she suspected it. In truth, many Mirkwood elves shared the dwarf's assessment of her. They loved and respected their prince but looked unkindly on the half-elf always at his side. Anarwen was not completely oblivious to this gossip, but ignored it as the idle chatter of the court's twittering ladies. She did not realize that many others considered her the prince's concubine.

Of the few rumors that reached her ears, Anarwen thought them obviously absurd. She could easily picture a dozen elves that had captured Legolas's interest at one point or another, and if anything, she was the polar opposite to each. Neither fair-haired, nor blue-eyed, nor slight of build, Anarwen had long ago decided that Legolas would never think of her in anything but the most platonic light. They shared a purely professional respect for each other. He gave her no reason to read something else behind his motives. After difficult years of trying to find her place, it had been a relief to have such a one handed to her so freely. It was an arrangement that had worked well for both of them.

Down the hill, Legolas followed the others into the stable. Anarwen realized she had been silent for several minutes and so had Gimli. He had said nothing in response to her greeting. She returned her gaze to the dwarf and found him watching her. She matched his direct look and decided to make the first brave move of the day.

"I may have been somewhat abrupt yesterday. You have my apology for my words, Master Dwarf." Anarwen did not flinch during this brief speech, but wished heartily that this moment could be over quickly.

Gimli had no idea what to make of this elleth. Had another warrior mouthed her insults of yesterday, the dwarf would have challenged him with the first sharp object in reach. But he had been dumbfounded to realize it was a girl leaping to the prince's defense. Honor and anger had gotten all mixed up inside him and left him sputtering until Frodo had silenced everyone.

At this morning's meal, Aragorn had explained to Gimli that Anarwen was Legolas's guard, but added that her father had been from Lake-town. On the whole, the Dwarves did not trust men much more than elves, but Gimli regarded Anarwen's mixed parentage as something of an improvement over the others from Mirkwood.

Anarwen's apology was a surprise, but seemed honestly offered. He also had a sentimental regard for women, even if this one did have pointy ears. Chivalry won out over stubbornness. "Hrmph. Well…we were all a bit…testy."

Anarwen smiled softly. Smoothing over the dwarf's wounded pride was much simpler than the next task facing her. But if she planned to make this journey, it was time to put things to right.

Gimli eyed her for another minute, and then trundled over to stand at the other side of the bench. Without much of an introduction, he launched into a long and very amusing story about hunting goblins in the Iron Hills.

The afternoon wore on, and Anarwen was thoroughly charmed by the dwarf's tall tale. Gimli warmed easily to the appreciative audience and found himself ending one story with the beginning of another.

Together they walked back down the terrace path, the dwarf still narrating with wild gestures and the smiling elleth following behind him.

***

Legolas took the stairs down to the courtyard two at a time. Aragorn and Arwen followed him at a distance. From the tone of their hushed conversation, Legolas suspected they did not need him near.

The Hobbits and Gandalf were already waiting, along with a small gathering of elves. Boromir strode toward them from the opposite direction. He had been at the stable biding the rest of Gondor's men farewell. The contingent from Mirkwood had left several hours ago.

Most of them, at least. Neither Dormallen nor Antion had known where Anarwen had gone. Legolas refused to go hunting after her and had sent the archers on their way without her. His letter to Thranduil was now making its way to Mirkwood in Antion's care.

Aragorn reached the stairs alone and walked forward to stand with Boromir. Legolas joined them, but stole a quick look back at Arwen, who was now moving slowing toward the group of elves near Lord Elrond.

Anarwen, keeping to Gimli's slower pace, arrived just as Elrond began to speak.

Anarwen. Legolas was momentarily thrown by her strange companionship with the dwarf, but he was relieved at the chance to put matters back in order before he left. After Elrond's farewell, he could make his own to the elleth.

"The Ring Bearer is setting out on a quest of Mt. Doom…"

Legolas stood still, listening to Elrond intently but glancing furtively at Anarwen. He was so used to seeing her clothed and armed as himself that he did not think it odd that she should appear there with a bow and quiver at her back and a long white knife at her belt. However, something did not feel right. He was certain it was mutual embarrassment at their hasty words of the previous night.

Elrond looked straight at Legolas. "…yet no oath nor bond is laid on you to go further than you will."

What need have I of this warning?, thought Legolas. Worry began to settle in his stomach.

Elrond continued, "Anarwen of the Woodland realm will accompany you. I cannot look too far ahead in your journey, but I would have you counted one more than the Nine Riders that track you. She has traveled much near the lands of the Shadow and can guide you well."

Anarwen felt all eyes fall on her. She suspected that at least one pair in crystal blue were flashing with rage. She kept her own gaze on Elrond.

Anarwen had gone to him before dawn to propose joining the Company. He waited patiently as she rushed through a number of noble justifications for volunteering before she faltered into awkward silence. She had the distinct impression that he was not really listening to her.

Minutes ticked by before he said, "Only you can pledge yourself to this cause…They may have need of you before this is over. If your heart tells you to do this, go with my blessing."

Now he addressed the Fellowship, "May the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you." The courtyard was deathly quiet as Elrond finished.

She cannot possibly be doing this! In the space of two minutes, the argument he thought he had won, at great cost, had been cast aside. She had gone behind his back. Now his own reasons for allowing her into the journey's planning were thrown back at him as reasons for her going with them.

Fury at her defiance swelled in him, but Elrond's words left no room for debate. She was going. Anything he said now would only humiliate himself in front of everyone. Without a word, he spun away to follow Frodo and Gandalf out the archway.

Anarwen braved a glance at Legolas only in time to see his retreating back. She had wagered all with the hope that her loyalty on this quest could heal their rift and restore her to his service. Now she had the sinking feeling that her actions had ensured this would never happen. The road before them promised only the unknown.

She fingered the knife at her side and waited for the other Hobbits to file out in front of her.

Gimli contemplated Aragorn's resolute gesture of farewell, Legolas's disappearance, Arwen's forlorn look, and its twin expression on Anarwen's face.

Making his own departure, he muttered, "Well…This should be a cheerful outing."