Disclaimer: OK first off we know that Tolkien never mentioned that Legolas never had a daughter. Work with us here, its fanfiction so we just added the character. And secondly we are very sorry if you get confused near the middle we tried but just know that the story changes from one set of characters to another. Like in comic books that go… Meanwhile… because basically that is what it is. Oh and we don't own any characters that you may recognize, we are not making any money off of this, it is for pleasure… all of the usual stuff you see on any fanfiction story. Ok we will shut up know and let you read the story.

With a silence gifted to only the most skilled of her race, the green clad figure silently crept through the tall oak trees, despite the load she carried. A little ways ahead of her was a bright orange flickering light blocked slightly by the slim figure of a woman sitting on a rock.

"Nagolá I know you're there mellon nín." The woman said softly, knowing perfectly well that the one to whom she spoke could hear her just fine.

Nagolá's mouth fell open in surprise, and she almost dropped the load of firewood she carried, when her friend spoke. She thought that she had been absolutely silent as she snuck up on her. Coming up next the woman she said, "Aldawen Teclontar, how in the world did you hear me?"

Aldawen looked up at her friend and giggled at the dumbstruck look on the elf maiden's face. "Oh Golá, you know you can't sneak up on me anymore. Elvin-born silence or not I know when you are near."

"Well at least I don't make as much noise as you, halfling."

The old nickname brought a smile to the younger woman's face. Not that her long time friend meant that she was a hobbit, but that she was half elvish.

Aldawen Teclontar, being the first daughter of Aragorn, King of the Reunited Kingdom, was indeed half elvish and half Numenorean. At the age of 34 she was renowned for excellent swordplay and deadly accuracy with a bow.

Her companion was Nagolá Greenleaf the only child of Legolas Greenleaf. The tall blonde elf often heard that she was the feminine version of her father, both in her legendary skill with her bow and knives as well as in looks.

Physically the pair couldn't of been more different. Aldawen had startling blue eyes shot through with silver and dark brown hair that hung down about two inches past her shoulders. She was clad in dark leggings and her boots were also dark but they had mud stains on them. Her dark red tunic was hard to see because of the dark well-worn leather overcoat that was draped over her shoulders and pulled tight around her body to stave off the chill.

Nagolá on the other hand had long flowing blonde hair that reached just below her mid-back. One braid on either side of her head just above her slender pointer ears were pulled back with a beautifully crafted silver pin, fed into one long braid that went down her back. She was clad in light gray leggings and a dark forest green over tunic, looking very much like her father would.

But both girls' throats were adorned with identical silver necklaces shaped into a shining silver star with seven points and a sparkling gem in the center. The pair had been friends since Aldawen had been a young girl of 12. To most their friendship seemed an unlikely bond, uncanny even, one of the remaining Firstborn and a mortal woman of the race of men. But to them it didn't matter just like their fathers before them they shared a bond stronger then most. They were always together, always traveling, and always getting into trouble.

A month ago they had left Rivendell on yet another journey, but this one promised to be short, and hopefully uneventful. Even though a week ago Aldawen had come down with a cold. They were just heading to Nagolá's home, Eryn Lasgalen to help her father with the last clean-up.

Nagolá walked over to the fire and set the wood down right next to it. She knelt down and was stacking it in piles when she heard well muffled coughing behind her. Nagolá pivoted on the balls of her feet and looked at her friend.

Aldawen had covered her mouth and was coughing into her sleeve, effectively muffling her sound. Nagolá smiled and shook her head. Reaching behind her, into her quiver, she fished around and pulled out a small leather bound flask and rose offering it to her friend.

"Awww, Golá, mellon nín, you know I hate this stuff. I don't want to drink it." Aldawen whined, taking the flask and pulling a face after smelling the contents.

"Well I mixed it up this morning just for you. I used mullein, athelas, and I put in some honey so it doesn't taste as bad. And you know that it's the only thing that will get rid of your coughing for a little while."

"Yes, yes, I know, I know. But that doesn't meant I want to drink It." the girl muttered under her breath.

Nagolá heard the muttered comment and smiled slightly, "Aldawen, come on mellon nín, you don't want me to force you to drink it do you? Please all you need is a mouthful. You've braved tasks much more horrifying than this, come on drink it."

Aldawen muttered something undistinguishable under her breath, which sounded remarkably like a dwarvish curse, and uncorked the flask once more. She brought it to her lips and glaring at her friend took a couple of small sips. Pulling a face she swallowed and let out a low rasping breath, shaking her head.

Laughing Nagolá sat down next to Aldawen, "Oh come on Aldie it cant be that bad."

Glaring at the elleth out of the corner of her eye, Aldawen corked the flask and handed to her friend, "Yes it can." She said simply, pouting.

"How old are you Aldawen, four or thirty-four? And where did you learn that dwarvish? I didn't know you and Uncle Gimli were around each other that much." Nagolá asked, giggling.

"Oh shut up why don't you? Prat. And for your information I didn't learn that from Uncle Gimli." Aldawen replied, giving her friend a playful shove.

"Really?" Nagolá asked with complete surprise between laughs.

"Really." Aldawen answered matter-of-factly, "I learned it from my father, if you want to know."

This only caused Nagolá to laugh harder, although she tried to hide it. The muffled giggling and snorting was too much for Aldawen. She grinned reluctantly and then dissolved into giggles like her friend.

Shifting silently in the tree above the giggling girls, Tarin rolled his eyes. 'Girls' he thought 'foolish creatures they are. Now I must figure out how to get out of this blasted tree so that damn elf girl doesn't hear me'

Carefully looking behind him the Hunter swept his shoulder length sandy-blonde hair out of his black eyes and moved soundlessly down to the base of the tree. Right before he got to the bottom Tarin spotted someone standing in the shadows holding a bow. The figure was clothed in a familiar looking hooded cloak, which was pulled low over his face.

After getting over the shock to see someone standing next to his hiding spot, Tarin grinned and moved over so he was behind his intruder and swung down to the ground. Moving with lightning fast speed Tarin pulled a knife concealed at his side and wrapped his free hand around the other man's neck covering his mouth and pressed the blade against his back.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Tagolen?" Tarin whispered into the man's ear, causing him to immediately relax. Grimly, Tarin released his little brother and sheathed his knife. Then he turned and disappeared into the trees, walking away from the girls he had just been watching.

Abruptly, Aldawen and Nagolá stopped laughing. "Did you hear that?" Aldawen whispered, slipping off of the rock she had been sitting on and crouching down of the balls of her feet behind it looking at her friend, who nodded. They had both heard a startled cry followed by the thump of something heavy hitting the ground, and then silence. They both drew their bows and notched an arrow, but not drawing it.

Listing hard both girls' powerful elvish hearing was put to use as well as their keen elvish sight. Suddenly a look of grim fear stole across Nagolá's face and she turned to her friend, tapping the younger woman's ear, silently asking if she had heard.

Looking at the elleth next to her and, bearing the same look of fear, Aldawen nodded. Sounds of heavy breathing, shifting feet, grunting, and metal clanking had reached her ears as well. Both girls voiced their thoughts at the same time in hushed grim whispered tones filled with suppressed fear.

"Yrch."

Laughing grimly, Nagolá shook her head, standing and re-sheathing her arrow, "Our Adars said we just have to get to Lasgalen, very uneventful, and unscathed. That's it Aldawen, all we have to do." She deftly pulled her knives and Aldawen followed suit, sheathing her arrow and drawing her sword.

The friends looked at each other sharply when they heard a horse, orcish cry; sounded from the south, "Attack!"

They smiled at each other before voicing in unison, "Yeah right!" and running off toward the sounds of fighting.

Translations

mellon nín my friend

Yrch orcs

Adars Fathers

Elleth female elf