When they arrived at the entranceway, Evelyn was surprised to see a rather flustered looking elf standing at the top of the staircase. He practically glided down the steps as he launched in a a rapid explanation that just a few days prior, a band of orcs managed to cross the border. A patrol was sent out to get rid of them, but the orcs carried poisoned blades. One member was severely wounded and Lord Elrond was tending to her at the moment. Glorfindel nodded in understanding, sending Cuhador back to re-join his patrol. Then, in a surprisingly, simple gesture, Glorfindel thanked the elf who delivered their message, Lindir, and and asked if Evelyn wished to go to her old room.

Evelyn honestly didn't know what she was expecting to happen when she arrived at those front doors: maybe a furious Elrond who demanded for her arrest, maybe a group of elvish warriors with swords and shackles, or maybe just a blade or arrow ready to slide between her ribs. What she most certainly didn't expect however, was for a cheerful Glorfindel to walk her through the household as if she completely belonged, smiling and offering greetings to a few elves that they passed, completely ignoring the way they all stared at Evelyn and Nightshade before quickly looking away. He guided her straight to the lesser traveled areas of the house and to the room that had indeed previously been theirs.

It was exactly as they left it, with furniture, books, and that same rosebush still in place. Glorfindel was still talking, rambling more like, about anything and everything. Evelyn half listened as she walked around the room cataloging that items that once created a small sense of normalcy in her life. She only noticed Glorfindel when he suddenly went silent, causing her to turn and lookout him with a question in her eyes.

He, for once, wasn't meeting her gaze. Instead, his eyes roamed around the room as he fidgeted in place. He made a few aborted attempts to speak, opening his mouth and clicking it shut each time.

Oh, the realization came suddenly to Evelyn. He has to go somewhere...

He'd been away for weeks, maybe months. Also, considering the fact that she held him active for a while, he was probably gone longer than expected. In all likelihood, he had a few things that he probably needed to sort out pretty immediately.

"Go," she waved her hand as she took a seat on the bed. Nightshade climbed up behind her and rested her head on the girl's shoulder. "I'm sure you have responsibilities and duties that I've kept you from long enough."

"Nothing like that," he assured. "It's just... well I think it might be best if I speak to Elrond first... before we all uh-"

"I see."

"Don't worry, no one will bother you until then. The Lady Arwen is assisting Lord Elrond in the Healing Halls, and the twins are out on patrol. No one else should be down these hallways."

"Of course."

With that, he hovered for another few seconds before darting off, closing the door gently behind him. Evelyn then found herself sitting in the chair near the window, Nightshade at her side as she idly fiddled with one of her blades. It's true that elvish crafting is far superior to anything that men would create, but the blade had still seen its time. Small nicks and dents from blows that a woman of her size shouldn't have been able to make marked the blade and the wrappings on that handle had long ago disintegrated.

The rosebush, still sitting in that pot beside her, seemed to perk up as she ran her fingers across it, cheerful to see her again after so long. She whispered a few soothing words to the bush, her fingers flitting across the golden colored petals that reminded her so much of someone who she was trying to avoid thinking too much of.

Elrond sighed heavily as he wiped the cloth across the elleth's brow. She had been badly wounded by an orc's poison-dipped blade and was still unconscious. Luckily, he had managed to draw most of the poison from her system and had the wound stitched and clean. It was a delicate procedure and he initially wasn't sure that he could do it, but she pulled through.

Before rushing into the Healing Halls to treat the young soldier, he had left strict orders that he wasn't to be disturbed. In such a delicate and time sensitive procedure, any distraction could prove fatal. He did recall that, a little over an hour ago, a cautious individual had cracked the door open, likely to check his progress, but then retreated. He suspected the individual to be Lindir, likely to inform him of some important manner the required his attention. Now the door cracked open again and Elrond didn't bother to look up, assuming that it was once again Lindir who would surly inform him of what matter required his attention now that his healing was complete.

"Peredhel!" An overly cheerful and incredibly familiar voice cried out.

Lord Elrond of Imladris was older than most elves still alive on Middle Earth, he was one of the few left who had witnessed the War of Wrath, he had fought armies alongside Gil-galad the High King of the Noldor and led battles in the Last Alliance, he had turned down a Kingship and yet still many looked to him as the last High King, he was a member of the White Council and had the blood of the Maiar Luthien running through his veins. Yet, there was one being in all of Middle Earth who never forgot that he knew Elrond's father as a child and still saw Elrond as something of an extension of him.

"Glorfindel," he said the name before he looked, but as soon as he turned he saw the golden warrior, alive and well. "What... how-"

"Ah Peredhel," Glorfindel smiled as he used the name Elrond often took as a title as a nickname instead. "It's good to see you. Look, you couldn't be rid of me so easily."

"What happened?"

"Ah, that's a bit of a story," the warrior had the decency to look at least a bit sheepish. "I was not away so long of my own will... I- well I may have been captured."

"And you escaped?" Elrond did another visual survey of Glorfindel and found nothing apparently wrong. He still wore his usual tunic and light leather armor that he had set out in, but his cloak was gone and replaced with a ratty, too-short garment.

"Not quite... I was released."

Understanding dawned on Elrond. There weren't many in Middle Earth who would be capable of taking the re-born warrior alive, and even fewer who were the type to release a captive.

"It was Raven, wasn't it."

"Yes."

Elrond sighed.

"No matter, all is well. Arwen rode Asfaloth and retrieved the Ringbearer, the One is on its way to Mordor as we speak. You can still ride out and meet the party to escort-"

"She's here," Glorfindel blurted out the words, interrupting Elrond.

"Pardon?" Elrond knew exactly what Glorfindel meant, but he dearly hoped that he was wrong.

"She... Elenya is... we returned to Imladris together," he now appeared to be particularly interested in the tapestry hanging on the wall behind Elrond.

"You brought her back here."

"And Nightshade," he was still studying that tapestry and avoiding eye contact.

"And the wolf..." Elrond could feel a migraine coming as apparently the wolf had also managed to come back from the dead. "I know you care for her, my friend. But, while you were gone she led an army of orcs through the Woodland Realm, she nearly killed King Thranduil-"

"I know."

"Of course you do," only Glorfindel could become entangled in something like this.

"I know what you must be thinking... but she wishes to help us now, and I believe that she may be one of the only ones who can. You've seen her powers Elrond, I've seen more, and I think that she may hold abilities that even she has yet to discover."

"I will fetch Erestor," Elrond rubbed his own brow with a resigned sigh. Sailing doesn't seem so unpleasant... "Retrieve Raven and ensure that neither she nor her wolf kill anyone on your way to my office."

"Of course," Glorfindel offered a slight bow to demonstrate a modicum of respect before abruptly turning and leaving.

Elrond paused for a moment and stood, walking slowly towards his Counselor's office. He had been concerned for Glorfindel during his absence, but some intuition had informed Elrond that he would be seeing Raven, Glorfindel's mysterious Elenya, again. She was an enigma: a girl whose eyes shone with light beyond that of the Eldar, who bore wings on her back, knowledge that no mortal should posses, enough rage to raze her foes, and a history bearing good reason for mistrust of the Eldar. Elrond knew that her fate was entwined with that of Glorfindel's, but yet he wasn't yet sure where she lied in the tapestry of Middle Earth's fate.

Evelyn chose to stand, far too anxious to sit, Nightshade on one side of her and Glorfindel on the other. Behind the broad desk sat Elrond and Erestor- the counselor appearing to be a mix of furious and flustered. In that moment, Evelyn felt oddly like she was on trial with she and Nightshade the accused, Erestor the prosecution, Elrond the judge... but what would that make Glorfindel, her defense? She did the best to quell that ever familiar rage bubbling in her chest at the thought of being on trial, of being forced to explain- to excuse herself to the elves. It had been years since that, but the instinct was still there and hard to quell. It was an instinct that had kept her alive for so very long.

But, this time she wasn't dragged before them, she wasn't a prisoner, and she wasn't helpless. She was here of her own free will because for some reason that she could hardly fathom, she wanted to help Glorfindel. She hated Saruman and Sauron and thus desired to see them fall.

I can do this, she whispered the words to herself in her mind.

If you want, I can still eat the Grumpy-one, Nightshade silently offered.

Evelyn couldn't help but release a slight bark of laughter aloud after that comment, drawing several startled expressions. When she finished her chuckling, she crossed her arms and leveled the elves on the other side of the desk with a stare.

"I came here by Glorfindel's request. If you don't want me then I'll walk out that door and never return. But, I can help. I know the course of the 'nine walkers,' or as you so fondly named, 'the Fellowship of the Ring,' and I know the course of the war that is brewing as we speak."

Erestor opened his mouth as if to speak, but was cut off my Elrond.

"We are always grateful for aide against the shadow of the enemy, but I would ask what prompted this switching of sides for we know that you've led an army of orcs," his tone was calm and surprisingly mild. Elrond's face was fixed in an unreadable mask.

"I never had a side, I considered myself neutral." Evelyn could practically feel Glorfindel biting his tongue as she spoke her piece. "But, I have spent... I'm not quite sure if I've kept track, but I've spent a good number of years in Middle Earth, and in that time I had one and only one companion who was true to me. Legolas, who lied to me when I was helpless and afraid, murdered her," Evelyn's hand fell to Nightshade's head to stroke to wolf and remind herself that she yet lived. "I made a bargain to save her life. Tell me Elrond, what would you have done if your brother was killed before you, and you were offered a chance to save his life in return for vengeance against those who killed him and wronged you? Would you have acted so different then?"

The room fell silent.

"Perhaps that is a line of though best saved for another time," Elrond replied, quickly switching the subject. "I should start-"

"I believe an apology is first," Erestor, much to the shock of everyone in the room, spoke up. "At the very least, I would like to offer one from myself. When you were last here, you were a guest in our halls after Savin the lives of Glorfindel, the Lords Elladan and Elrohir, and an entire patrol of our soldiers. Yet, I treated you as one would treat a prisoner because you were different and strange. That is no excuse for what I did, and you owed me not the answers that I tried to demand of you. I am truly sorry for my affronts to you."

Well that was unexpected, Nightshade spoke to Evelyn.

It seemed that no one in the room had expected those words from Erestor, and the conversation was quite derailed. Elrond appeared pleased but rather delighted whilst Glorfindel had a comical expression of shock, slack jaw and wide eyes included, as he openly stared at Erestor.

"Perhaps, if you are willing," Elrond gestured for Evelyn to sit which she reluctantly did. "You will tell us your story of what brought you to us with this offer of help."

And so, Evelyn told them her story. She started at the very beginning, a tale of a child from a world where Middle Earth was a fantasy that she was intimately familiar with and where child dreamed of a golden fay battling a demon; how the dream reoccured for years until she was dropped into Mirkwood, running from spiders and being captured by the elves. She told of her imprisonment, how she was cold and hungry and lonely every day. She talked about the way the walls seemed to cave in on her, and how she still didn't know how long she was imprisoned for. She explained her escape, sparing no details in the elves she cut down to gain the weapons that she still carried. How she found Nightshade and pulled her from a den of slain wolf pups, how she built a life on the run. Then of course came the story with Glorfindel and the emergency surgery she performed, then how she followed him back to Imladris. Of course, this was where her tale became more fraught.

She glanced at Glorfindel who gave her an encouraging nod to continue, and continue she did. She wouldn't lie to the elves. Perhaps she wasn't proud of all her actions, but she wouldn't regret them. She wouldn't claim innocence or ignorance, she escaped from the elves and from that moment forth, she looked after herself and Nightshade. And so, she told them about how Sauron came to her, how like a wraith of night he crept upon her and offered a deal in exchange for the ability to save Nightshade. She told them about how he came to her again with a request to kill Glorfindel, how she refused but then accepted the amendment. Then, one last glance at Glorfindel for courage, she told them about the note from Saruman which was the final straw.

"I do not expect forgiveness or clemency from you," she spoke slowly as her tale wound to a close. "I won't won't defend my choices and I won't ask you to understand. But," she paused and locked eyes with Elrond. "I know that Sauron and Saruman are both amongst the vilest things to walk this earth. I know that whilst they yet live, no one, deserving or not, will find freedom or peace. Thus, here I am, offering to help."

All three elves had remained silent throughout Evelyn's tale. No one interrupted, instead they sat silently and just listened, expressions morphing between sorrow, anger, and shock. It wasn't until she finished with her last words that Elrond spoke.

"Your life has not been an easy one, and fate has not been kind to you," he spoke slowly, choosing his words with the great care of a wise elven lord. "I regret the actions that were done upon you, and I regret the actions which you did upon others. But, forgiveness is neither mine to give nor withhold, and I think that we shall accomplish very little by dwelling on the past. If you are willing to become an ally against the Enemy, then I welcome your aide."

Evelyn nodded.

"Most has already been set in motion. If the Fellowship has departed, which I suspect that it has by now, then most things are already set."

"Perhaps," Erestor, surprisingly gentle, interjected. "Perhaps we should start again, new beginnings. I am Erestor, Chief Counselor of Imladris. I welcome you to our battle against Sauron."

"An excellent idea," Elrond smiled, placing a hand over his heart and bowing as he introduced himself. Glorfindel too, joined in. "Would you perhaps, share with us your name? I know you go by Raven, and I know that Glorfindel calls you Elenya, but would you share with us the name that you were raised with?"

Evelyn paused. She had given up on her name so long ago, she had thrown it away with the last vestiges of her childhood. Her name was the one that her parents used to should to get her to leave her books and interact with the world of other people. Her name was the one her friends would call out whilst laughing over some dumb inside joke that they still remembered from middle school. It was the name of a girl who, if you had asked, would've jumped at the chance to save Middle Earth. It was a name of hope and kindness and the goodness of youth. Part of Evelyn wanted that little girl back, part of her wanted her past life again. And so, it was time.

"Evelyn," she said, her name slipping out with a breathless exhale. It had been so long since she last said it aloud. "My parents named me Evelyn."

The room went deathly still.

All three elves present had completely stopped moving, Evelyn almost thought that they had stopped breathing for how still they became. Now, she always though that telling her real name would be a big moment for her, that it would lift some sort of weight off her shoulders or open up some wall that she had placed in between her past and current life.

She didn't really expect the elves to react. They weren't the Fay that her Grandfather told stories about, weaving magic with a person's name or revealing secrets hidden in them. But the elves did react, they reacted with probably the last thing that Evelyn would've expected.

All three elves dropped to their knees, their palms and foreheads kissing the ground.

No one moved.

It was Evelyn's turn to be shocked.