She felt the wind stop and the light implode as she hit something hard and cold. She looked around, tiredly, and saw mountains, tall and imposing. She saw home. She smiled, pulled on her cloak, and closed her eyes again. She fell into an exhausted sleep, the power of the Valar humming in her fëa, as her body adjusted to the travel back to her home.

Arda, Late Fall T.A. 3016

The sun set and the stars shone brightly over the valley. The blonde elleth lay on her cloak on the mossy ground; her eyes open as if she was gazing upon the stars. Her body had adjusted from her trip and she no longer slept with her eyes closed as her fëa drew energy from the fresh air and soft earth. She dreamt of a time long ago, in her first life where everyone she loved was still alive in Arda. She dreamt of her early life in Gondolin and the adventures she had with her sisters.

The valley was almost silent; there was just the soft rustling of leaves along the ground as small animals skittered through the tall grass and ferns and up the trees. The birds had migrated to a warmer climate weeks prior and the mountains shielded the valley from the heavy winds that blustered across the plains on the other side, yet the air was still crisp and cool. The southern skies were dull and hanging with heavy clouds that blotted out the stars. They were moving north quickly, dropping heavy, cold rain across the valley.

Elaeanyl woke slowly as the rain soaked her clothes. She groaned and sat up. She dragged her pack closer to her and started to rummage through it, pulling out her hooded outer cloak. She looked around the valley and she pulled a small dagger from the pack and tucked it neatly in her boot and took her adaption of her old twin blades out of her pack as well. They weren't anything near as good her as old ones, but they would have to work until she got to Rivendell and her another pair reforged by the elves there. The handles were rougher and bulkier and the mortal steel was heavier and less balanced than the old elven blades. She strapped them to her back, grabbed her pack, and looked around the valley, trying to figure out where she was.

There were mountains, tall and snow capped, that surrounded the valley she was dropped in. There were trees that only grew in the Northern parts of Arda. The air was cold, even for late fall. It was not yet winter, as the trees still held their leaves, the mountains weren't completely covered in snow, and the stars hadn't yet shifted into their winter constellations. This narrowed it down to a few places in Arda that she knew of, the iron hills or Ered Mithrin. There was only one way to tell. She had to climb to a peak and see what the plains or other landmarks were on each side of the range.

She sighed, picked up her belongings and started to climb up the steep side of the nearest peak. Her elven sight and balance helped her climb swiftly over the rocks, plants, and twigs that stuck out of the ground. She quickly reached a small plateau in the side of the mountain where she stopped and drank some water and ate a small portion of the food she had packed in her bag before she left.

She had packed enough food for about a week. She had enough clean water in her pack to suffice for a few days. She had planned to be able to replenish her water often in the small streams that flowed around most of Arda. She would have to start looking for a food source in the morning, but the mountain streams flowed with clean, cold water that melted from the snowcapped peaks.

She would be limited for food sources as elves didn't eat meat unless absolutely necessary and winter was quickly approaching. Most elves, due to their connection with nature, usually didn't eat meat unless they were in dire need of nutrition and nothing else was available. Some elves, especially warriors and hunters would eat meat, but healers felt that killing an innocent harms their ability to heal for a time. Not to mention, most were not used to the taste or the heaviness of the meat and it gave them upset stomachs. They kept animals, such as cows, goats, sheep, and chickens for their milk, wool, and eggs and when the animal dies, they use whatever they can while still respecting the animal and its sacrifice.

Nell gazed upon the stars and repacked her supplies. She readjusted her blades and slung her pack gracefully over her shoulders and started up the rough terrain again. She hiked swiftly, stopping to check her surroundings and listen for any unsavory characters that could be lurking in the trees or hidden caves that were scattered throughout the face of the mountain.

She was still, probably, five hours from the peak, and the hill became steeper and rockier with every step. She could see much of the valley she arrived in now, but with the light from the stars and moon blocked by clouds, she couldn't distinguish enough of the terrain to figure out her location exact. She walked, carefully, up the rocky ground and sighed.

'Why did I have to be left so far away from civilization?' Nell thought to herself.

Her brother would laugh at her for this. He always had the best luck of all her siblings. Well, except for the Balrog. That was rotten luck. She supposed he deserved an easy second life after the Balrog. When he was reborn in Arda and regained his memories, he was living just a two-day walk through flowing prairies to the last homely house. Meanwhile, she had to trudge up a mountain just to figure out where she was… and the possibilities of finding an elven settlement were at least two weeks away for an elf moving swiftly without a horse.

She groaned and kept walking. The air was growing colder and the rain was turning into a mixture of rain and ice as she increased in elevation. Her cloak was keeping her dry enough, but the wind kept blowing her hood off and her hair was soaked. She hadn't put it in braids, and it stuck to her face and the back of her neck in wet tendrils.

She ran her fingers through her hair and used a leather strip to tie most of it back away from her face and she tugged her hood back in place. The sky was becoming brighter as the first sights of dawn peeked over the summits surrounding the valley. The sky lightened from the darkest black with tiny white flecks breaking through the clouds to a deep purple. The rain slowed to a slight drizzle as dawn quickly approached.

As she reached the top of the hills, and she drank some more water and ate a small breakfast as she sat on a recently snow-covered boulder. The sun slowly gave her enough light to see far along the valley and just to the southern plains. She saw a large, thick forest that spanned for many miles before her, crossed by a few rivers that flowed swiftly to the south. To the east of the forest, she could just make out a snow-capped peak, standing alone in the plains. She was currently in Ered Mithrin, the grey mountains, north of Greenwood the Great, and Erebor, the lonely mountain.

She smiled, for she was truly gazing upon Arda… and she was in the better of the two mountain ranges. Ered Mithrin wasn't the best, or the safest, place to be alone as an elleth, but the Iron Hills were far worse. More easterlings and orcs roamed those hills and the lands surrounding them. More dwarves roamed the hills and paths near Erebor. Not to mention the dry flat lands that left travellers vulnerable to bandits, orcs, and mercenaries. Plus, she had access to water and food for her journey to the woodelves' realm.

Elaeanyl sighed, this still meant she would have to travel through Thranduil's realm. It was the safest and quickest route to Rivendell. The forest would provide her shelter, food, water, and perhaps even a horse she could borrow. While she didn't want to visit the palace, it would take up valuable time and her kind didn't have the best relationship with Thranduil, even during the war.

The Sindar ellon was a difficult elf to get around with before his father died in front of the black gates. The years after the massacre of his father and the Army of Greenwood, Thranduil withdrew from the other elven realms. He was bitter, argumentative, rude and insolent on the best of days. It didn't help that he was a Sindar ellon and a king of the Silvans.

She was a Noldor elf. Her great grandmother was part Silvan, but none of the other elves cared to remember that. Thranduil, a Sindar elf, a king to the Silvans, didn't easily forget the actions that occurred at Alqualondë. While he didn't hate all Noldor, their relationship had been stressed for many ages, and the death of Oropher in the second age had stressed things more. Throughout the last years of the second age, the Noldor lords and Thranduil had distanced themselves, meeting only to discuss fighting the orcs and darkness back from their realms.

Glorfindel had told her stories about when he visited Greenwood after he returned from the Halls of Mandos. He said the elves were cordial, but not overly warm with an elf of Noldor descent. He was treated with honor by Oropher and Thranduil because of his closeness to the Valar, but his time there was overly formal and slightly uncomfortable. She didn't expect a warm welcome after the wars of the Second Age.

Alas, Greenwood was much closer than Lothlorien or Rivendell and would be an easier journey than walking the the Anduin where orcs would be waiting in the foothills of the Misty Mountains.

She looked over the southern slope and smiled, her descent would be easier than her ascent at least. The ground was firmer, less rocky, and covered in strong trees that she could anchor onto, as the terrain was still steep and icy at the hilltops. She got up from her rock and started downhill. She sun was rising and the clouds had started to clear. The air was still cold and her clothes and hair were still wet, but she wanted to get to the outer foothills before she stopped for the day and set up camp.

She has one larger peak to cross until she was in the foothills, but it looked like an easier climb than the first peak.

Her day went quickly as she walked through the trees. She found a small creek at the base of the hill and replenished her water supplies and she found some rose hips growing along the banks and ate them as she walked. They were a little overripe, and not the best tasting raw, but they were food, and allowed her to save her supplies until she really needed them.

She wasn't tired yet, but she suspected that by the time she reached the foothills, she would be exhausted. Her body wasn't used to the terrain and she had been walking since last night, and it was nearly midday. She needed to pick up her pace and find a safe place to camp before night fell.

It took her many hours to reach the foothills where she found a small clearing in the trees and started to gather dry wood and leaves. When she had a moderate sized pile, she got out her flint and struck it until a small puff of smoke and flame erupted from the kindling. She slowly fed it small logs until it was warm and as large as she was willing to make it. Smoke and light could draw all sorts of unwanted creatures and people.

It didn't give off much in the way of light, but she didn't care much. She pulled off her cloak and draped it over a fallen tree that was lying close to the fire. She pulled off her boots and set them close to the fire as well. She put her extra cloak on the ground as she dried off her blades so they would be sharp and unrusted. She smiled, it was reminiscent of her old life. She couldn't believe that she was back, but she was happy to be back and excited to see her brother and any of her old elven friends that she hadn't seen in over three millennia. She had hoped that they hadn't all sailed. She didn't remember seeing them in Valinor, but she didn't have much time there either.

Elaeanyl put her blades back into their sheaths and she lay back, looking through the sparse canopy up at the dark sky again. The stars shone so much brighter here than they did on Earth. There wasn't any pollution from lights, big cities, coal, or factories. Occasionally, near orc strongholds, or the larger cities of men smoke dulled the skies, but here she could see everything so clearly and the stars shone out like bright beacons from the Valar.

She slowly fell into a peaceful sleep, her eyes open and glazed over. The fire burnt low, but it didn't die out for many hours. As she woke with the sun, the fire had burnt itself out and she could feel the chill on the wind again. Her cloak was dry and her boots were too, only covered in the morning dew that settled in over the night.

She gathered up her pack, carefully secured her boots on her feet again, and put her blades back in place. While she kicked some dirt over the old embers, making sure that the fire would not relight itself and catch anything else on fire, she looked around the clearing she found. When she arrived last night, it was already mostly dark and she could now see the clearing in a better light.

It was surrounded by tall pine trees and large bushes. There was a large nest in the tree where a bird, maybe a hawk or a crow, made their home. What she saw in one of the large pines made her heart race slightly. It was small, but it was there, a hunting snare, rigged up near the base of the tree.

The snare was too large for rabbits and other small animals, this had to be made for larger animals, such as deer… or men, perhaps even elves. She couldn't believe someone would be so daring to set up traps this close to Thranduil's realm. Men and orcs had set up traps before. They would catch unsuspecting elves or men and sell them as slaves or slaughter them. However, she had never seen traps like these so close to an elven realm.

Elaeanyl quickly cut the rope to disable the snare and walked with caution out of the clearing. She watched intently on where she placed her feet and she scanned the trees and the surrounding areas for any signs of men or orcs that could be nearby.

Her pace was quick and careful as she wound her way through the valleys and foothills of Ered Mithrin. The climate grew slightly warmer and she saw more animals, particularly birds as she trekked south. Over the next few days she was able to find some more food and water as she made her way south into the Greenwood. She saw more signs that there were large 'game' hunters near, which kept her on edge as she set up camps in secluded areas and walked during the day.

After a week she reached the Forest River where the water was cold and moving swiftly. She didn't risk finding a bridge and being brought to Thranduil. She had suspected all bridges were being guarded to prevent trespassers. She walked the shore for about a mile until she decided on a slowly moving bend to wade and swim across. The water wasn't too deep, reaching her shoulders at the deepest spot, and it moseyed around the corner, which was why she chose to cross here. She wouldn't risk being caught in the current and setting swept miles downriver. She tied her pack high on her back, took off her boots and slung them over her shoulder and made sure everything was secure. In her leggings and tunic, she stepped into the cold water.

It was partially a myth to say elves cannot feel the cold, while this is mostly true to cold air, elves can feel the cold rain and cold water, just not as much as men. When she was up to her hips, her teeth started to chatter and the cold water stung her skin as it tried to gently push her downstream.

She couldn't see where she was stepping as she had stirred up the sediment on the river bottom, but she walked quickly to get out of the cold water. She took step after step until the water started to get more shallow and she could feel the smooth stones that made up the southern river bank. She pulled her foot up from the slippery, stone bottom and took another step through the murky water, as she set it down a sharp pain ripped through her heel and up her calf.

"Valar!" She cried as she hopped in the water, trying to clutch her lower leg without falling into the water or getting her boots and pack wet. She tentatively tried to take another step and pain radiated up her leg again. She stood in the river for a moment and waited as the sharp pain weakened to a dull throbbing.

Elaeanyl slowly limped through the water until she was a few feet from the southern shores. She raised her foot and saw blood flowing freely from a deep cut that ran from the pad of her heel up the back of her ankle and ended just below her calf. She stepped on a crude trap that had either been left in the river or was swept into the river by floods.

She sighed as she hopped to a series of rocks that littered the shore. She set her pack down and rummaged through it until she found a pack of neatly rolled bandages. She used a spare cloth to wipe most of the blood and grime from her cut, but it still bled sluggishly as she applied pressure to it. She folded the cloth into a long pad and wrapped her foot and lower leg with the bandage.

She put her one boot back on her uninjured foot and unlaced the other all the way down. She pulled the boot open as much as it would go and gently placed her foot into it. She laced the boot up, tight enough to apply pressure to her wound and stop any bleeding, but loose enough to allow blood flow to her foot. The cut burned, but she knew it was best to leave the area as soon as possible in case whoever left that trap was nearby.

She stood on her right foot and gently added more and more of her weight to her left foot. It was painful, but manageable. She would be slowed greatly by this, but she should be able to make it to the western edge of the forest in a fortnight, maybe less if she was fortunate. There, at the forest's edge, she would be able to find a horse to take her to Rivendell via the elven road. She might even be able to find a caravan of elves travelling between Thranduil's palace and Imladris.

Just thinking of other elves made her sad. She missed civilization a little. She hadn't talked to anyone but the trees and the stars since she arrived in Arda days prior. She missed her uncle and the few friends she had made on Earth.

'Come on, Nell. The sooner you start walking, the sooner you can get back to Imladris and your family,' Elaeanyl muttered to herself.

Quickly, she gathered her things and started to limp south. She needed to find a safer place to set up camp to take a closer look at her foot and dry her clothes. The area surrounding the river wasn't as dense as the rest of the forest, which lead her to be vulnerable to other threats. The denser forest inland did have more beasts and creatures in it, but the chances of running across a band of orcs or slavers were less because they avoided straying from the rivers and known paths as often as possible.

She could faintly hear the humming of the trees around her. For some reason they seemed ill and almost distrusting. They had been affected by the darkness for some time now. She remembered what the Valar said about the Necromancer and the evil that was infecting the southern section of the forest. She saw the same type of evil and illness throughout the war late in the second age. It saddened her greatly to see the great realm being eaten away at.

'I need to know what really has been happening around here. There has to be a reason the Valar brought me here and not to Rivendell or Lothlorien,' She assured herself as she continued south.

Limping, she kept walking deeper into the forest, being more aware of her surroundings and the types of creatures that were living in the trees now. In this forest there could be wargs, spiders, trolls, crebain, and much worse taking refuge in the darkness and growing in power. Taking short strides, she walked for many hours until she saw a small flet hidden in the branches a large oak tree. It was old and almost overgrown with vines and low hanging branches, but it was the best shelter she could find for the night.

The flet didn't have any stairs up the trunk of the tree and the rope ladder that was hanging down from the flet was still far about her reach. She looked around the other trees in the area and judged it safe enough to climb a neighboring tree. The closest tree had some low hanging branches that were perfect for climbing. She would have to reach for the ladder when she got high enough, but she had been climbing trees for millennia. It was a skill most elves had learnt as very young elflings and they never forgot it.

Nell grasped the tree's lowest branch and pulled herself up swiftly, using her one good foot to find footholds and branches easily enough. After a few minutes of careful climbing and avoiding dead branches, she found a thick branch that lead close to the flet's ladder. She stepped slowly down the branch, pain throbbing in her foot as she was forced to walk as gracefully as she could down the slippery branch.

As she perched as close to the end as she felt could support her, she reached out for the rope ladder and hooked her fingers around the wooden slats that were held together by a thick rope.

She pulled herself up the ladder slowly, her arms tired, because her feet had no rope to climb with yet. The ladder was long, but an easy climb once her uninjured foot could propel herself up the tree.

The flet was high in the tree and the vines had formed a sort of wall around most of it. Nell sliced some of the vines with her blades and pushed her away into the 'room' created by the vines. The flet was small, probably used for hunting orcs or as a guard post. It had a small metal stove in the center surrounded by make-shift chairs and large logs. There was a stack of dry wood and some kindling stored underneath the stove, which she used to start a small fire. There was a heavy iron pot left as well, which she cleaned of dust and webs with a corner of her damp cloak.

She filled the pot with all the water she could spare and left it to boil. She pulled off her cloak and boots carefully and left them near the stove as well. Her tunic and leggings were now hopelessly damp and dirt covered from the days she spent travelling and from her little swim in the river. She quickly decided to shed those and set them by the stove as well. Sitting in the flet in her undergarments only, she rummaged through her pack. She pulled out a spare pair of leggings and another tunic. She hadn't felt comfortable changing in the open, but here was more protected.

When the water was boiling, she slowly poured it into the small bowl she carried in her pack. She mixed in some Athelas leaves and willow bark and let it steep until it cooled enough to not burn her skin. She unwound the bandages from her foot and winced at how the skin was inflamed and red. The wound was still bleeding from the walking and climbing she had been doing, but she could see clots had formed along the edges.

Dipping a clean cloth into the athelas water, she gently cleaned the cut. Touching it hurt, but the water made her foot throb less after a few minutes. She boiled her used bandages and set them out to dry. She rewrapped her foot in a fresh bandage and sat on one of the makeshift chairs.

'Well, this is a mess', She thought to herself. 'You need to be more careful. Things are different than what you're used to.'

She leaned back and propped her feet up on another log. The open skies above her were obscured by the tree's large leaves, but the breeze somehow made it into the flet and reminded her of Imladris with its open archways.

She smiled and rested. She quickly fell asleep, slumped in the chair, covered by her blanket.

Nell woke the rustling of the leaves and the scraping of the sole of a boot on wood. She sat up quickly, panic rushed through her. She unsheathed her blades and silently crept over to the left side of the opening to the flet. She stood quietly, blades raised and ready to strike. She stood waiting to defend herself from whoever was climbing the rope ladder up the tree as the noises got louder.

The next few seconds passed slowly as she heard the stranger climb higher and higher. Her instincts told her that the stranger most likely wasn't an elf based on the amount of sound they made climbing the tree, but then again, she could be mistaken. Men or orcs would have made significantly more noise trying to climb the tree before they even got to the rope ladder. The couldn't hear anymore scaping of boots on wood, but she could hear, very faintly, the breathing of one, maybe two, people approaching, not more than three or four feet from the 'door'. Elaeanyl planted her feet firmly on the ground and gripped her blades confidently. They didn't fit as well as her old ones and the blades weren't balanced perfectly for her, but she was still confident that she could protect herself from any foes. Afterall, she did fight on the hills of Dagorlad and in many of the major battles of the Second Age. She would never forget how to protect herself.

A dark head, with pointed ears poked through the vines. Elaeanyl raised her blades to the elf's throat smoothly, "I suggest that you do not move," She warned in Sindarin as the ellon moved his hand toward the sword on his hip.

"I mean no harm to you, I am Angelien of Rivendell, I have been travelling through the forest and needed a place to rest for the night," Elaeanyl lied, and she led the other elf into the flet. He was tall, taller than her by at least five inches. His hair was dark, but his eyes reflected the color of the leaves of the great maples in mid-summer. He looked weary and flushed. His tunic was ripped and muddy and his hair was snarled with twigs and shed leaves. Nell noted that had sweat on his brow and reddened cheeks.

"I mean no harm to you, Lady Angelien. I am Rynor of the Greenwood Guard. I came here for a night's rest." The ellon explained in Sindarin.

Elaeanyl observed the ellon before her. He was wearing a cloak pin that the warriors from the Greenwood historically wore. His weapons looked sharp, but well used. His pack was neat and small. It certainly looked like he could be a warrior for Thranduil.

"Why are you alone?" She inquired. It wasn't like any elven guards to travel alone.

"My company and I were clearing spiders from the trees and barrows. I was separated from my company when I was tracking the last of the nest down. I was stung and I think the spiders were taking me to their nest when they died from their wounds. I woke up about a mile from here. I was going to wait here until I figured out where my captain and the rest of the men went. They'll make their way here eventually if they followed the path the spiders took." Rynor said. He didn't look like he was lying. He did look like an elf that had been dragged through the brush.

"I suppose I will trust you," Elaeanyl said as she sheathed her blades. The ellon was tired, she could tell by his flushed face and hunched shoulders.

"Le hannon," He thanked her as he sank into a log and pulled a hand through his messy hair. His braids were half undone and there were enough snarls in it to look painful.

She set another log into the stove, where the fire had almost died out while she slept.

She gathered up her dried clothes and carefully organized them in her pack. She set more water on to boil and limped over to Rynor, offering him some of her food. He in turn offered her his waterskin.

"What is an elleth doing travelling through the forest alone?" Rynor asked her after taking a handful of the dried fruit she offered him.

"I'm on my way back to Imladris to see my brother," Elaeanyl said honestly.

"Why did you leave the road?" Rynor asked her speculatively. "This forest is no longer safe. You shouldn't have left the road."

Nell hesitated for a moment. She had no good excuse for being so far from the road.

"I left the road because I thought there were bandits following me," She said as smoothly as she could muster. Hopefully he would believe her.

"Bandits?"

"Yes, I stepped on a trap when I wasn't paying attention a few days back. I thought I heard men following me after that. I thought it best to move off the road, but I got lost," She told the guard.

"I'm sorry," Rynor said. "We've been keeping a lookout for those men for awhile now. They never come far enough into the forest for us to catch them. Thankfully, they haven't attacked any elven travelers yet. We have gotten reports from Laketown that their traders have been robbed though."

Elaeanyl thanked the Valar that he believed her spun tale.

"Yes, they must be getting bolder. Do you know how far from the edge of the forest we are?" She asked.

"About 2 days walk if you make your way back to the road, but I would say it would be best for you to join our company for safe passage," Rynor said seriously. Nell was about to argue when he continued, "We have evidence that wargs have been in the area."

'Shit!' Nell thought. 'She couldn't outrun wargs with her foot the way it was and they would scare off any wild horses in the area.'

Nell nodded at the man and stood up to go to the stove.

"I am steeping some athelas. You may use it as well on any hurts that you have come across on your journey here," She offered to the elf, who was all but asleep where he sat.

"Thank you, I wish to clean out the bite properly, I didn't have much time or supplies to do so before," he said as he started to take his cloak off and lay it by the stove. He also leaned his weapons on the log he was sitting on.

She nodded as she added some leaves to the water. She looked quickly over her shoulder at the elf. He had his tunic sleeve pulled up to his upper arm. A large blood crusted puncture marred his skin just below his elbow. The surrounding skin was red and swollen. A thick fluid oozed from the bite, probably venom, as he probed the skin around it. Elaeanyl winced in sympathy.

When the water had cooled, she brought it over the log he was sitting on. She handed him a cloth and the bowl after she poured enough for her own use into her smaller bowl from the kit. He nodded in thanks as he started to clean the bite.

She focused on her own foot. A scab had formed overnight and most of the cut and the surrounding skin was less red than it had been the day before. She knew that walking would most likely break the scab open again, but at least the wound wasn't infected and the surrounding skin was healthy enough to promote healing. It would probably heal faster if it was sutured, but it was healing as it was, so she chose to leave it be for now.

She found a clean bandage and wrapped her foot again and looked over at the other elf. Rynor was wrapping his arm in a bandage he must have had in his pack. It wasn't the most secure bandage she had seen, but it would suffice until his own company showed up. They would probably apply antivenom and redo the bandage when they arrived. He sat up and started to dig around beneath the stove. He found a piece of red folded cloth and pulled it out into the center of the flet. He unfurled to show it was about the size of a tunic.

"Aha, there it is." Rynor said as he went to the trunk of the tree and started to climb stiffly.

"Rynor, What are you doing?" She asked as the elf climbed past the vines.

"A few decades ago, the army outfitted the old guard flets with emergency supplies and signal flags. It helps immensely when we are ambushed by spiders or orcs and become separated. My captain will be looking for this flag," Rynor explained.

Elaeanyl nodded and Rynor kept climbing until he was in the highest branches, where he secured the fabric.

"When they arrive, we will head back to the main camp or the fortress. You are welcome to come with us, it is probably best that you do. Even for trained warriors these woods are dangerous," Rynor offered.

Elaeanyl weighed her options. If she went with Rynor and the other warriors she would be offered a safe passage to Imladris. However, if she went with the warriors, she risked the chance of losing precious time. She wasn't sure what year it was or most of what had happened in the years she had been gone.

"When your company arrives, I shall make my decision. My brother is expecting me in Imladris and I don't want to keep him waiting any longer than I already have," Elaeanyl said. She was not planning on going with them to the fortress if she could help it. Even by horse it would add days to her journey and that was if she didn't run into anyone who recognized her from her first life. She suspected if anyone discovered her alive that she would have to spend days explaining.

The pair sat in silence as the sun started to dip in the sky and cast shadows on the wooden floor. She had managed to comb through her hair and twist it into braids to finally keep it out of her face. It looked like Rynor had done the same to remove all the debris from his hair. He was still dirty and in need of a fresh tunic and leggings, but he no longer looked as disheveled. He also was less flush. Cleaning the bite looked like it helped.

Elaeanyl grabbed her knives and went to sit at the side of the ladder to look out for movement on the forest floor.