~*~* A/N: All right, here's the fourth part! :-D I hope you like it, and please please please Reveiw! :-D Thanks! *~*~


Elrond stood before the hundreds who were set out to leave. He would stay in Rivendell, for if the defenses in Minas Tirith failed, he would need to defend his own city. Face ridden with concern, he began to speak.

"Today you will set out from Rivendell, and journey to Minas Tirith, the White City of Gondor, to defend her against the very evils of Mordor. Take with you courage, bravery, nobility, and honor, for you defend not only Gondor, but the races of men, elves, and dwarves. You shall be lead by the Ranger known as Strider, by the son of Gondor Boromir, and by a third, a most unlikely companion for all of you. But her sword is true and her fate our own. You all surely know of whom I speak - Loriana Blackthorne, the daughter of the brave Jilikius. I beg of you, do not see her as a mere girl as I once did - see her instead as perhaps the savior of Gondor, and of us all. Strider, Boromir, and Loriana will instruct you along the way. Be brave, be true, and fight without mercy against all who do Sauron's bidding."


Those who were to remain in Rivendell lined the streets as the armies left for The White City. Shouts of praise, of good luck, and of "Namaarie" filled the crisp air, as Loriana mounted her horse, rather uneasily.

Legolas, however, jumped onto his, without harness or bridle. Glancing at Loriana, he smiled, for she held onto the reigns for dear life.

"Pray tell me that you've ridden a horse," he said, and Loriana's head jerked to look at him.

"Of course I've ridden a horse," she scoffed, and then sheepishly added, "Actually, it was a pony and I was but a girl. But I think I shall quickly learn."

Legolas laughed, the sweet sound escaping his delicate lips. Loriana looked down, then saw Legolas lean over, and whisper something to the horse, soft Elvish words.

"You better not be telling the horse to jolt me, Prince Legolas," she said with a smirk.

"Why do you call me that?" he wondered aloud. "I know I am a prince, but none but you call me so."

"It is so she will not forget," came Veerle's voice from behind them as she rode up on her white horse.

"Are you going to join us? Ride into Gondor, perhaps, and defend the White City?" asked Loriana, sarcasm dripping from her words.

"Of course not, that would be folly - for you are the only girl who fights. I am merely riding with your band, and my brother, until the path turns northward to Mirkwood."

Loriana began to respond, but was called to the front by Boromir and Strider. She mumbled something to the horse, and looked to Legolas for aide.

"Poke at it's side with your foot," he offered gently, amazed that *the* Blackthorne, from prophecy and legend, could not ride a horse. She obliged, and the horse trode up to the front. Pulling on it's reigns, she stopped it.

"We are deciding on a route to take," said Strider, offering a small smile. Loriana nodded.

"Then I shall leave that to you, for I am not knowledgeable with maps."

"Indeed," replied Boromir. He and Strider spoke for a few more moments, and at last came up with the best route to take. Shouting to the rest of the army, Strider told the route. As he spoke, Boromir and Loriana stood beside him. Boromir's eyes, dark and worried, met Veerle's, hers light and fair in contrast. They seemed to speak to him, and he found himself taken, with her innocent beauty and timeless splendor. He swallowed, willing himself to look away but unable, as a magnet drawn to another. And she returned his gaze, much to the surprise of the mortal man. He stood, unable to look away or speak for several moments, then their longing gaze was interrupted by Legolas. He crossed in front of his sister, but whether it was to break the gaze or simply to get a better view, Boromir could not tell. But then Legolas' eyes, the grey color of a rain cloud, met his own, and Boromir felt a sense of questioning and accusal in them.

As Strider gave words of encouragement, his eyes met Loriana's. He caught a twinkle in them, momentarily, then she drove it back out, dullness and a sense of nonchalance taking it's place. She turned then to look upon the army, and was startled to find Legolas' eyes on her, their greyness immortal and deep, naïve and jaded, happy and sad all at once. She couldn't help but gaze back for but a moment, then tore her eyes away. She looked down, giving a short sigh.

Elrond stood beside the road that led out of Rivendell, and bid them a fond farewell, a safe journey, and victory.


The company set out, with Loriana, Boromir, and Aragorn at the front. Legolas and Veerle rode straight behind them, and behind them the rest rode, in a line three or four horses wide. As they crossed a bridge, leading out to Rivendell, Loriana opened her eyes for the first time to the great beauty of the land, for earlier she had been too riddled with grief to notice the exquisite trees, the marvelous river, and the other wonders that Rivendell held. She wished she could stay, and enjoy them a bit longer.

"Strider, you shall have to come back with me," she said, turning to glance at him. "And show me the beauty of Rivendell."

He nodded, smiling softly. "Indeed, it is a promise. One day, after the fighting and warring is over, we shall return, together, my sister."

They passed out of Rivendell, and even the elves with the keenest sight could no longer see it when they turned to gaze back. They were to keep going south for as long as they could, and then turn east, keeping to the west of the tallest mountains; however they would still have to pass through Redhorn, and try not to induce the anger of Caradharas. Luckily, it was barely autumn when they set out, and not winter, for their journey would be much easier.


They rode hard for a great part of the morning, stopping at noon for a rest and a lunch. Loriana sat alone, leaning against a tree. She ate a piece of bread and drank water from her flask, but had little else, for she was still full from the large breakfast in Rivendell. She leaned back, folding her hands behind her head. She watched the rest of the army silently.

Veerle glanced over, seeing Loriana watch the rest of them. She walked, her feet silent on the grass underneath them. Loriana saw her approach, raising her eyebrows.

"Greetings," spoke the elf softly, sitting beside Loriana without invitation.

"Hello, Veerle," said Loriana coldly, not looking at her.

"I should think you're cross with me, and yet I know not why."

Loriana shook her head. "I'm not cross, I just do not wish to speak with you."

"And why is that?"

Loriana paused for a moment. "I just wish not to."

"Is it because of Legolas?" Veerle pried, and Loriana turned to glare at her.

"Legolas is not of my concern," she said, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to steady it.

"I should beg to differ," said Veerle wisely, returning Loriana's glare.

"What business is it of yours?" demanded Loriana, her voice hard as her glare.

"Legolas is my brother, and I want not for his heart to ache, for a broken heart is lethal to Elves."

"It hurts quite a bit for humans as well," Loriana said, glancing down, her voice breaking for a moment. Veerle reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I wish-" started Loriana, but stopped herself.

"I know, Loriana. We all know, but Legolas doesn't quite understand why Valar would make you suffer so."

Loriana shrugged, fighting her tears back; for she, as well, had wondered that many times. Veerle stood, and left Loriana alone to think for the few moments before they continued on their journey.