The feast was magnificent. The harvest that year provided the most plentiful fruits Mirkwood ever had. There were meats, breads, fruit, lembas (of course) and the wine flowed like water.

The atmosphere was joyous and merry. It was quickly forgotten that Anarrima was to leave after all was finished. There was singing and dancing and much laughter. The torches, unlit, hung on the walls as the sunlight lit up the ballroom.

At the table in the front sat King Thranduil, Legolas and Anarrima to his right and Aragorn to his left. When all ate their fill they took to telling their stories of each other. Both Legolas and Anarrima found the company of Aragorn very inviting; he was indeed an honorable guest. The King was lavished in the green and golds of Mirkwood, a silver circlet graced his brow and his golden hair styled in the fashion of the wood elves. It was obvious where the Prince acquired al his attributes from.

"...and then Anarrima somehow locked herself in her closet." Legolas finished with a grin. The table was in fits of laughter as Ana turned bright red with embarrassment. She remembered that day well.

She wanted to get Legolas back for putting hot wax on her hairbrush earlier that day, so she hid in her closet and awaited until he entered her room. When she heard him enter, she went to open the closet doors but they were locked! she pushed and pulled at the doors, much to the amusement of Legolas. King Thranduil had to retrieve one of the maidens to unlock the closet.

Hours were spent listening to stories, mostly about the misadventures of Anarrima. Soon the feast ended and the sun began to sink behind the horizon. The sky changed from cool blue to the familiar shades of red and gold. The King stood from his chair, cup of wine held in the air. All the other elves, including Legolas and Aragorn, held their cups of wine in the air for the toast.

"We are here to celebrate the coming of age of one of our own. Today we do not celebrate Anarrima the Moriquendi, but Anarrima of Mirkwood," the King announced and held his drink high. All followed in raising their drinks and Thranduil beaconed Anarrima to stand and join him.

"You have a home here and are always welcome. You are like a daughter to me and my heart will forever be open to you. This is to you, Anarrima of the Dunedain," the King finished his drink as an applause rang out among the Ballroom. Anarrima finished her wine as well then was pulled into a tight embrace by Legolas. The feast ended.

Out at the stables Anarrima was preparing her horse, Dimrost, for her journey. Her hands fumbled and slipped as she tried to tie the reins on. Her frustrations grew as she failed each time she tried.

"Let me help," a voice called out from behind her. A pair of strong hands grabbed the reins from her uneasy hands and proceeded to finish readying the horse. Anarrima looked up to see those familiar sapphire eyes.

"Are you alright?" Legolas asked as he finished up on Dimrost. He stroked its mane and spoke to it in elvish, asking it to keep Anarrima safe on their journey.

"Just a little nervous," she responded, watching the setting sun. For all that she knew, this could be the last sunset she might see at home in Mirkwood. Home. She had a home now, one she could call her own.

"You were trained by me in the arts of battle, you have nothing to worry about," he jested, fingering the arrows in her quiver.

"I know," she smiled looking at the ground. It was true, Legolas had taught her everything from wielding the elven daggers to achieving deadly aim with the bow and arrow.

"Ana," he began as he lifted her chin to meet her eyes, "our paths will cross again and when they do we, we will travel it together."

"Where? Where will that path lead us?" She asked as he took her hand.

"Wherever it may lead."

As the sun sank lower in the west and the wind blew softly, they both left the stables with Dimrost trotting slowly behind.

At the gates of Mirkwood Aragorn and Anarrima mounted their horses and all were there to see them depart.

"Be careful during the night, evil creatures still roam these lands," the King said to Aragorn and bid him farewell, placing his hand over his chest. Then Thranduil went to Anarrima upon Dimrost, who was speaking to Legolas. They were laughing together as they always did.

"Well Anarrima, your time has finally come. May the blessings of the Valar speed you on your way. Namaarie," the King gave his graces to her, then stepped aside.

Legolas took something from the pocket of his tunic and reached for Anarrima's hand. As he held her palm up he placed something small there, then closed her hand over it. "I want you to have this."

Anarrima opened her hand and marveled at the trinket he had placed there. It was a silver band with elvish markings all along the outside. She slipped it on her finger and whispered the words that were on the ring. "When I look to the stars, there I will see you."

"Namaarie, melamin," Legolas bid farewell. The moon had appeared behind the clouds and sparkled in Anarrima's eyes. He wanted so much to just beg her to stay and not leave, but he smiled softly to hide his discontent.

"Namaarie, Prince," Anarrima replied and gave Legolas one last look. Aragorn turned his horse and rode through the gate into the forest. As the trumpets rang out through Mirkwood, Anarrima turned Dimrost and eased him into a gallop.

Her last look said everything words could not, and yet he understood. It was hard enough knowing she had to leave, but it was almost unbearable watching her go. He knew he would see her again, it was just a matter of when. As these last thoughts crossed his minds Anarrima disappeared into the forest. She was gone.