Disclaimer:  See chapter one. Thx for all the reviews, keep them coming. I heard a little bird tell me somebody was waiting for the mushy stuff…here it comes, or at least starts.

Chapter VIII: Strangers from the Past.

Strider explained to them that she spoke very little, hardly anything at all.

First she had sat on the chair, clutching the arm rests, now it seemed like she had sunken into some deep trance and she stared down in the floor, looking more dead then alive.

"-Dont worry, I only whish to ask some questions-" Elrond said and sat down in a chair a couple of foot from her. He felt that his legs had an urge for pacing, but suppressed it, thinking it, would only feed to her anxiety.

"-What is your name?-"

She did not answer.

"- Do you not remember your name? -"

She remained silent and Elrond hid a deep sigh. If this really was the daughter of the Spirit Weaver from the diary…. then she was about a 1000 years young then him, that meant she had a past, and somebody must have known her, she couldn't have been in Bree for over a thousand years and not been noticed before now.

"-The people in the city what did they call you-?"

"-What about your past…. do you remember anything before you came to Bree, when did you first come to Bree?-

She turned her head towards the window and stared at the blue sky and the birds that flew hurryingly by.  A cold October breeze flew in the window and nipped at the edge of her dress.

She closed her eyes and blurry green images flickered in her memory, then black figures entered and she could hear echoes of screams, roars of angers the sound of metal hitting metal. Was this her memory or was she reliving the events at the Watchtower. 

Then the images changed to a blue sky and she felt empty.

"-There was a fight-" She said suddenly and lowered her gaze to the floor again and her fingers started to fumble with her ring.

"-A fight ? Between two people…. or a war?-" Elrond asked. She looked out the window again, a shadow flickered across her face as her knuckles around the arm rest whitened. She did not say anything and for a long time they only sound they heard was from the birds that still struggled to sing summer back.

"-Your ring then…. where did you get that-?" She looked down at the ring in her hand and let a thin finger stroke the golden leaves that twirled around it. Elrond watched her every move and the more he thought about what Elonia had said, about the wedding ring, the more it seemed true.

"- I do not remember…. -" she said in a voice that was on the verge of breaking.

"-Do you know why you fell ill…. after you killed the Black Rider-?" Elrond asked when he sensed that there was another topic she either tried to avoid or didnt remember.

She closed her eyes again and remembered how the darkness had captured her and the voice start to whisper in her ear. She had memories of things like this happening before, but never so intense as by the Watchtower.

"-There was a voice…. And darkness…-" she was quiet again and the dark shadow that had flickered across her face, when he mentioned the war, turned to her eyes. Elrond wondered if he should tell her what she was, and what she had to do, but somehow it just didn't seem right.

"- Do you know what a Spirit Weaver is?-" Elrond asked and waited to see if there was any kind of reaction in her features that could reveal something…something they could work on. She did not move, the darkness still lingered in her eyes and she turned away.  Elrond was about to ask another question when there was a knock on the door.

She seemed to snap out of the trance she had fallen into and she straightened up and looked nervously towards the door. Elrond sighed deeply, he had told them not to disturb him if it was not of great importance. Elonia walked over and opened the door.

"Sorry my Lord…. but they have arrived"

It was no question who they were and slowly he rose, looked one last time at the elf in the chair and then at Elonia and slowly nodded his head. He would have to talk to her later, maybe check in some of the books, maybe there was something there that could help restore her memory.  Right now there were other urgent matters to deal with, what to do with the One Ring. The One Ring her mother had bound Saurons spirit.

            Rivendell was all he had imagined it to be and so much more. As his uncle had said "The Last Homely House was a big house…always a bit more to discover."

He strolled down a stone stair and made a mental image in his head of all the detailed carvings of flowers and plants snooping their way up large stone pillars and wooden carvings of animals on the walls.  Sam was walking next to him still awing and owing over everything he saw.

Suddenly there was a racked off noise and the unmistakable bang followed by hurryingly footsteps and screaming that, although in elvish, told them that whoever screamed was angry. Then, running out from one of the many doors, covered in white flour, clutching some cookies in their hands, were Merry and Pippin. Running after them was a tall and slim elf carrying a large frying pan.

"Hide us Mr. Frodo" Pippin called when he saw Sam and Frodo, and before either of them could scold them for being up to their tricks and pranks (again) they hid behind a stone bench.

"Uh…. sorry Mr. Frodo…. but did you see two other hobbits that was with your company?" the elf asked and lowered her frying pan. Sam was about to tell the elf where Merry and Pippin were hiding, when Frodo pointed down the stairs and said.

"They ran that way"

When they were sure the elf had disappeared Merry and Pippin crept out from their hiding place and dusted the whit cover off them, sneezing.  "What on earth are you doing?" Sam asked when the two mischievous hobbits grinned at him.

"Getting some snacks for out afternoon tea" they said brightly and showed them the cakes and cookies they had nicked. Frodo was about to give them a lecture in manners, when Pippin suddenly gasped in fear and staggered backwards. In the next moment Tquel came running down the corridor and jumped on him, eagerly licking his face.

And then after the dog came the elfmaid, but they had trouble recognizing her.

Her shaggy, colorless, clothing was replaced by a green water colored dress that looked like it was poured on her. The dress slightly swept the floor and they could see it sparkle in the sun, the color matched her eyes perfectly. Gone was the darkness that had lingered in them the days they ran through the forest.

It was not her beautiful dress that made the hobbits stare at her, her face, still covered by small bruises and scars, seemed to glow. She seemed to be only thing truly alive, but at the same time she seemed so vague that if disturbed she would disappear.

She stopped when she saw them and bit her lower lip, Frodo did not know if it was from containing her laugher, because she was afraid, or out of habit.

"Tquel" she said, her voice still as calm and low as it had always been. The dog stopped licking the flour from Pippin's face, grabbed one of the cookies from Merry and then hurried over to its master. She started to walk away, and Tquel looked one last time at the hobbits as if to say. Yes I know she is breathtaking and then, wagging his tail he followed her.

They followed her with their eyes as she left. When she reached a small patio she stopped and stretched her hand out into the air, as if on commando a small bird landed on her finger and she gently stroked its feather. Then she turned her head in their direction and looked at them once more.

"Is that the same elf who saved our life…. if this is what living in Rivendell do to you…. then I might never leave" Merry said.

"Neither I" said Pippin.

Suddenly they heard the sound of happy laughter, the unmistakable voice of friends reunited after a long time.  They looked over the railing and saw that two riders jumped down from brown horses and were greeted by the elves. One of them was a man with half long reddish- brown hair. He dismounted his horse and suddenly looked straight at them, and then towards the elf and dog, his eyes lingered there for a long time.

            Boromir handed the reins to one of the elves that arrived, never taking his eyes off the elf that was standing above him, holding a bird in her hand.  He knew that elves were extraordinary and held a un-earthlike, magical beauty, but he had never seen anybody that held the grace she did.

He snapped back into reality as he felt somebody, nudge his shoulder as they rushed past him to greet the elf, he had meet on his way to Rivendell. "Your majesty it is good to have you back…. how is your father?"

"My father is well, my Lord…. and how is everything here, well I hope" Legolas asked and removed his luggage from his horse and handed it to one of the maids. Elrond nodded and told them that everything was as well as the expected by the situation.

"Tell me Lord of Rivendell…. who is she?" Boromir nodded his head in direction of the alcove above.  Elrond furrowed his eyebrows…. he had a hard time recognizing her, until he saw the dog beside her. When he saw her, he became certain that she was indeed a Spirit Weaver. There was a glow around her, a glow of all things beautiful and kind in this world, he felt as if he could hear the Ainulindalë. He felt an instinctive attractiveness to her that could not explain.  Suddenly a terrifying feeling ebbed through him, that her death would be the killing of a star on earth.

"If she knew Boromir I am sure she would tell us" Elrond answered with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"You mean she dont know who she is…. what is her name?" The son of Gondor nagged, not managing to take his eyes of her. Now, Legolas became interested in the conversation between the human and the Lord of Rivendell and asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"The nameless elf…." Boromir said nodded his head in her direction.

Legolas slowly, casually, lifted his gaze-

-and felt all the blood drain from his face. If it hadn't been for the fact that he was just holding his long bow and could lean his body on it, he was sure his knees would have given inn to the weight of his body.  He felt warm and cold at once and Elrond and Boromirs voice seemed to come from far away. He wanted to scream to run up to her but didnt, because he had to bee dreaming, it had to be an illusion.

Suddenly she turned her gaze straight at them, and it seemed like their eyes connected. Her eyes the colors of the forest and the sea, he had stared into them many times, and never again had he believed that he would see them.  He had tell his mind that it was an illusion, because the same elf who had those eyes, looked at him with the kind of warmth that seemed to fill his entire body, had taken her last breath in his arms a long time ago.

Please review.