The fellowship of the ring had come far since that fateful day when Legolas and his beloved Nephryn had parted ways. When they had first set out from Rivendell, with the intent of escorting Frodo Baggins to Mordor to destroy the Ring once and for all, they numbered nine. Elrond had chosen this number so as to equally match the nine Nazgûl that would undoubtedly pursue the Ring.

They had braved the Caladhras until an immense, and seeming impassable storm had forced them down into the caves of Moriả. There they found devastation and death. The caves had long been destroyed and looted. They were inhabited by a swarm of Orcs and a fearsome Balrog. They would not have escaped their dark clutches but for the bravery, and ultimately, self-sacrifice demonstrated by Gandalf the Grey. Now he was no more and the fellowship was down to eight: Boromir, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Frodo, Samwise Gamgee, Merry and Pippen.

The loss of Gandalf eroded the morale of the group and as they emerged physically depleted and mentally forlorn it seemed that the demise of even one of their small number slowed the already lingering progress of the group.

They walked now over the rough terrain, and they were spread thin. Aragorn and Legolas lead the way for they were most able-bodied of them all. The four hobbits trailed in pairs in their wake. Boromir, who seemed to gravitate toward Frodo, and Gimli, brought up the rear. Though the dwarf was last, of all of them, his progress had been the steadiest.

Aragorn breathed hard in the thin air. Beside him, though the elf showed no sign of fatigue, Legolas felt his limbs burn with a tiredness that resulted from being without any lengthy physical rest. The elf knew that if he was feeling the weariness of their travels, then the hobbits would now be on the point of collapse.

"Aragorn!" Legolas had pulled up and was now looking back towards the rest of the group, whose progress had dwindled. Aragorn stopped and waited as they caught up. In truth, he was glad to stop to catch his breath.

"We will have to stop soon for a rest, but it cannot be in such a place where there is now shelter." Legolas observed as he surveyed the land, one hand shading his eyes.

Aragorn said nothing, but he knew that it would not be before the hobbits legs simply gave out. He did not have time to make even a suggestion to the elf for Legolas cried out, pointing to the horizon.

"We are beset by creatures of the Dark Lord."

Aragorn could not see the threat but he had no reason to doubt the elf's much keener senses. He waved to Boromir, who burst into a run, dragging with him two of the hobbits. Gimli followed suit, bearing the remaining hobbits.

"We are under attack. Boromir, you and I shall take Frodo and Merry to the eastern approach to the woods and Legolas and Gimli, you shall bear Pippen and Sam to the western approach. The woods are protected. I believe our best chance lies there."

Though his words sounded convincing, Legolas knew that it was more for the benefit of the frightened hobbits than any real tactical advantage. Nonetheless, Legolas grabbed Pippen's hand and set of into a run toward the western side of the forest. He could hear the Gimli's footfalls and Sam's laboured breathing behind him, so he did not waste precious time to glance behind him.

In a matter of minutes, the thunderous clap of metal boots on stone seemed to surround the four. The Orcs had moved faster than any of the fellowship had given them credit for. Soon Legolas knew they would be surrounded and from then it would merely be a matter of time, as the Orcs would pick them off one at a time.

An Orcs arrow roared past Pippen's ear, and the startled hobbit threw himself down into the ground, almost dragging Legolas with him. Legolas pulled hard to raise the terrified halfling to his feet. Ahead of him, arrows that missed their targets embedded themselves deeply in the trees. Gimli was nowhere to be seen, nor Sam and Legolas had no choice but to assume that they were safe.

The elf-prince turned then to face their assailants, pushing Pippen down behind him to shield the unwitting hobbit from any further harm. He drew his bow quickly and it sang as he release shot after shot, each making a clean kill. Pippen sat mesmerized on the ground as Legolas felled most of the Orcs that came too close.

As much progress as he seemed to be making, Legolas knew that it was only a matter of time before one of the enemies arrows found a target. The elf turned to the hobbit, eyes blazing.

"Run!" He hissed.

The hobbit needed no further instruction. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas watched as the halfling scampered off in the most deserted direction. Then form nowhere two Orcs jumped out, into Pippen's path. The hobbit yelped in fright, and began glancing wildly for an escape. There was none and Legolas watched in horror as one Orc raised his crossbow to launch a fatal shot at the helpless hobbit.

"No!" He cried out.

But the arrow never found a target for, from nowhere a horseman appeared, pulling a dazed Pippen onto the steed behind him. As the stranger fled, he raised a longbow and sighted down two arrows. The shot was difficult and while neither Orcs was killed, each was hit and the immediate threat removed.

In the foray Legolas almost forgot about the approaching Orcs. He loosed two more shots and realised that he was down to his last. Then, without warning, from on high arrows rained down on the Orcs. In seconds, what was a score of menacing warriors was now a decimated blood bath.

Legolas turned to spy his unknown allies. As he turned, he pulled out both long-knives. At one side, he saw Gimli pop out of the tall grass, pulling Sam up beside him. When Legolas inspected the tall trees, he could see no sign of anyone having even been there. But that did not mean there was no one there.

There was the sound of unshod horse hooves behind him and Legolas turned to see a pale shaken Pippen jump down from a tall steed, sinking to his knees as he hit the ground. Legolas remained wary, his knives still drawn as he approached the fallen hobbit. The stranger wore a heavy shimmering grey cloak, with a wide-brimmed hood that covered his face completely.

As Legolas appraised the stranger, he conclude that he must be an elf for he rode with no saddle, and was clearly a skilled marksman.

"Who are you?"

 The stranger did not answer but gestured lightly to the unsheathed knives with one hand, indicating that Legolas should drop them.

"No, I don't think so. Perhaps if I knew who you were?"

A voice sounded behind him.

"Does it matter as long as we are not allied with the Dark Lord?"

Legolas turned to find several elves standing in a wide circle behind him. They too wore long grey cloaks and bore elegant longbows. They'd obviously saved Legolas's life, and for that he was grateful. So he slowly put both knives on the ground. As he stood he kept a hand over the hilt of a small dagger at his hip.

A sweet gentle voice laughed from behind him.

"I thought you only had two of those."

**************

So stunned was the elf-prince at the gentle voice, that he refused to believe his ears. It couldn't be! He turned slowly back to the stranger on the grey horse. Indeed his eyes told him that it was true. Nephryn Istriél sat tall in the seat, her long ebony locks slipping out from under the cloak. Her hood was down now and her could see the glow from her eyes. So healthy and full of life she seemed compared to their last days together.

"Nephryn?" Legolas walked slowly towards her, throwing down the dagger as he approached. He held his arms out for her and she fell willingly into his deep embrace. He laughed incredulously as he swung her around in his arms. His long arms encircled her still slim waist and he felt a burble of laughter from her as she pressed her face into his shoulder. One small hand entwined itself in his long gold locks while the other guided his face to hers. The elf-prince felt that, in spite of the run in with the Orcs, this was truly a small glimmer of hope in the ever-darkening horizons. She caught his gaze with hers, and he could see a simmering longing in the lush green eyes that surely mirrored his own desires.

Suddenly aware that they were being watched, he set her down gently, but kept an arm at her back as they turned to face the other elves.

"Legolas, these are the Galadhrim warriors who guard the borders around Lothlorién. Your companions to the east are safe also. They are being escorted here as we speak." Nephryn seemed to be in charge of this patrol.

One of the elves called out to her.

"My Lady, what would you have us do?"

Nephryn looked around for Gimli and Sam. She could see, even from a distance that Sam's face was scratched. She gestured to them.

"Tend to their wounds while we wait for the rest to arrive. Then we can proceed to Lothlorién." The elf nodded once and went to attend to the shaken hobbit.

Legolas turned to face Nephryn, taking her hands in his. He smiled down, disbelief still evident on his smiling features.

"You are well?"

They walked together now, away from prying eyes but to too far away from the safety of the group. His eyes danced, as he appraised her appearance. She radiated health. Though still slight, her features were no longer drawn with exhaustion and fear. Her green eyes emanated vitality and energy, and when she smiled they sparkled. She wore tunic and breeches still, under the elven cloak, and he could see the hilt of one of his daggers glint from its sheath on her baldric.

"I am, but my recovery was not nearly so quick as it was when I was in Rivendell. The Lady believes that my recovery was linked to the Ring, but I believe that your presence was the driving force behind my recovery. You inspired me to live. I have missed you so."

They stopped walking and he reached up to caress her cheek.

"Never had I believed I could have missed anything so much in my life, but yearned more for your presence every day since we parted."

Without another word, he reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out the small wooden casket she had given him that last day. He placed it in her hands and as she wrapped her fingers around it, he covered her hands with his.

"As I promised." She beamed at him as he threw an arm around her waist and they began to walk back to the where the elves tended to a slightly less-pale Sam.

The young hobbit sat still on the damp undergrowth, knees pulled up to his chest. He had a long cut along one cheek, much the same as Nephryn had when she'd first arrived at Rivendell. It snaked back into his hairline and the blood had mottled and dried to a sickly blackened ruby. One of the elves sat on haunches next to him, gently daubing a clear filmy balm over the cut and wiping it clean with a rough linen gauze.

Hands still intertwined, Legolas and Nephryn approached slowly. Pippen had taken up guard next to Sam, standing defiantly, daring all to try and pass by him.

"Young hobbit!" The elf-prince called to Pippen, so that he could introduce their companions to Nephryn. Before there was a chance however, muffled shouts were heard from beyond the dark copse of trees from which Nephryn and her band had first come.

Legolas drew his knives in anticipation of further attack, while behind him Pippen cowered behind Sam, who seemed unaware of anything save the stinging sensation raging from the cut on his face. Legolas tried to push Nephryn behind him, where she'd be out of immediate harm. But instead of yielding to the gesture, she placed a hand over his blade forcing him to drop the knife lest she cut her hand. He was about to speak when she put one finger to her lips. All fell silent and one elf raised a hand to his mouth and blew a low melodious whistle. When a mirrored sound was echoed from within the wood, the elves dropped their guard.

Seconds later a band of Galadhrim emerged cautiously through the trees, murmuring quietly among themselves. In their midst Aragorn and Boromir and their hobbit charges stood, wary of the elves and unsure of how to proceed. Legolas waved to draw the men's attentions. They immediately relaxed at the sight of a familiar face among the grave stern elves. Seeing that the strange group were not foe, the elves relaxed their guard and Aragorn and Boromir moved quickly over to where Legolas stood with Gimli and the hobbits.

"It seems that we are safe, at least for the time being though we know not who our saviours are!" Though Boromir spoke enthusiastically, it was clear from his wary glances at Nephryn and her cohorts that he did not yet trust their rescuers.

Legolas took the opportunity to allay the man's suspicions.

"Boromir, do you not remember when you last encountered this fair elf?" Legolas gestured to Nephryn.

Boromir studied the elf-maid for a long moment. He did not think it possible that it was the same fair beauty he'd seen many months previously, for though she'd been stunning she's seemed weak and frail. The elf that stood before him now stood as tall as himself, proud and strong, wielding a longbow and a dagger like those of Legolas. 

"I remember but I doubt my memories for you have changed greatly since that evening in Rivendell."

Aragorn too recognised Nephryn but was also amazed at the change in the elf-maid. So breathtaking was the similarity now between Nephryn and Arwen that Aragorn found himself glad of the elf-maid's company for it brought some solace to him. He bowed deeply and formally to Nephryn, who smiled graciously at the gesture.

"Indeed though it has been many moons since last I laid eyes on you, I can recognise still the beautiful elf who graced the gardens of Rivendell for too short a time. Nephryn my heart lifts that you are well, for I know that Arwen would be greatly pleased to see you so improved."

"Thank you Aragorn. You are most kind. But come, for I fear the longer we remain here the less safe we are. We shall proceed to Lothlorién directly. There you shall rest and rekindle your spirits."

The elves bore the tired weary hobbits on the horses and Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli walked alongside them , unwilling to relinquish sight of them till they were beyond dark harm. At the rear of the procession, Legolas and Nephryn walked arm in arm. Though a fatigued body forced him to watch his step on the uneven terrain, out of the corner of his keen eyes, the elf-prince watched Nephryn. She walked tall, chin tilted up toward the dying daylight. One hand rested heavily on his arm while the other hovered near the hilt of her dagger. Like his own, her longbow was now strung across her back.

"Why do you stare at me?" She did not look at him, but her lips curved into a meagre smile. When he did not reply, she tightened her grasp on his arm and leaned her head into his shoulder as they walked. He could not resist bringing a hand across to caress her face and pull her into the crook of his arm. She leaned in eagerly, hungry for his touch and wanton for the feel of his hands on her.

"We shall have tonight my love." He whispered, his voice husky as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. If they never had another day, they would have tonight.

One hour later, they arrived at the Celebrant. The river ran deep and cold, its currents pulling against the banks, bending the growth to its flow. The steady gurgle of its tide over the rocky bed was the only sound to break the twilight air. One of the elves, slung a rope across the wide breadth of the rushing water. It was caught on the far side, presumably by a fellow elf, and secured so that it was taut, rising two lengths over the frigid liquid. All but a handful of the elves crossed, balancing delicately on the rope. When it came turn for the hobbits and company to cross, one of the remaining elves Haldir, threw two more ropes across, and when the were secured, they rose above the first rope, creating a easier passage for those who could not balance so easily. When all but himself and Nephryn had crossed, Nephryn released the two ropes and both scurried across the single rope. When they dropped to the far side, Haldir removed the last rope, and with that all trace that any had ever been through there was gone.

"It is but two score minutes to Lothlorién from here. I must blindfold you." Haldir drew out a set of linen strips as spoke and half to Nephryn.

Gimli grunted loudly, stomping one foot on the ground in indignation.

"I am an honourable being. There is no need to blind me!" Aragorn placed a placating hand on the dwarf's broad shoulder to try and soothe the irate dwarf but to no avail.

"Unhand me! I am honourable and I will go no further lest I may see where I am being taken."

Legolas bristled at this. No longer could they afford the delay. He cut the air with a loud hiss of anger, gesturing wildly with one hand.

"A plague on Dwarves and their stiff necks!" The elf-prince muttered.

Aragorn could see that such comments would not make any progress. He held up a hand to silence the bickering.

"I believe that it is the good Lady's intention that we all be blindfolded. It is no slight on your honour Gimli. Even Legolas, who is kin, must wear a blindfold. Am I correct?"

Nephryn smiled thankfully at him, grateful for the intervention.

"Indeed my instructions are to blind all of you, even Legolas. The Lady does not doubt your honour. It is simply the way things are done."

Anger flashed bright in Legolas's bright eyes.

"I am an elf and a kinsman here." Not even Nephryn's soothing murmurs could appease the elf-prince.

"Now let us cry: 'a plague on the stiff necks of elves!'" Aragorn's words silenced him instantly and Legolas was immediately sorry that he'd let anger and impatience cloud his judgement and affect his manner. He held up both hands in surrender and Nephryn walked behind him and fastened in place the thick linen fold.

As she tied it, he secretly delighted at her light touch at the nape of his neck. She too revelled in the silken feel of his gold spun locks, and as she stood close she breathed in his scent. The light woody, fresh scent filled her being and the thought of being close to him once more made her dizzy with delight. She'd paused for a second, allowing her hands to linger near his neck, and his face melted into a smile. He knew well her thoughts for they matched his own.

"Will you guide me?" Legolas murmured quietly, his hands weaving out in search of hers. Nephryn closed her eyes as she took his warm hand in her own.

"If you will trust me."

He stopped at this, and instinctively turned to face her. Though her could not see her face, her could hear her breathing and he leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. At that moment, she tilted her head up and their lips met. There was no need for further reassurances. They walked for almost an hour, his hand resting on her arm. Though it was dark, the bright silver light of the spring moon bathed their path in an ethereal glow, banishing the clawing shadows.

When at last they arrived at the gates of Lothorién, the folds were removed. No one spoke for all were dumbfounded. None had ever been to Lorién and as they drank in the sight, the company's troubles seemed to recede and seem less daunting.

Nephryn smiled as she watched the awe play on the faces of the fellowship. Even Legolas, who'd seen many lifetimes, was like a child, rapt by such a view, delighting in the magic.

"Come!" Nephryn pulled on his arm, and the group moved as one into the fantasy.

Ooooohhhh! I had sooo much fun writin this chap. Its such a nice change! Whaddya think? Want more???

R&R and you fic-fairy-writer shall happily grant your wish….