This is a collaborative effort of a whole bunch of us - me, Elanor, Finrod, Gilrean, Holly, Lana, Nimbrethil, Witch King and Wizard. Other than the respective characters ie. me (Laurendil, Mas); Elanor (Elanor, Haldarin), Gilrean (Gilrean), Holly (Holly), Lana (Lena), Nimbrethil (Nimbrethil), Witch King (Beomir) and Wizard (Wizard), we do not own any of the other great Tolkien works. This was originally an RPG we played and have put together as a story. Hope you enjoy it.

After Laurendil left, Lena had headed towards her quarters. It was not long before she knew that she would not be able to sleep tonight. So she headed off to see Aragorn. And now, she was pacing back and forth in the room, while Aragorn leaned against the wall looking slightly amused. She had not been able to sleep, so she had headed over to talk to Aragorn but he was certainly not helping with that look on his face. She stopped and glared at Aragorn. "What the hell are you smiling for?" she demanded. "There is nothing funny about this situation!"

Looking serious all of the sudden, Aragorn said evenly, "Indeed it is not." He then spoilt the whole effect by grinning widely and saying, "But you sure are!"

Lena roled her eyes, and continued pacing. "How on earth are we going to organize this? We can't travel with lots of people, but everyone is going to want to help. AND we have to disguise ourselves so Saruman will not know who we are."

Again, Aragorn looked amused. "You are thinking too much. Get some rest, and we'll figure this out in the morning."

Lena simply raised an eyebrow and glared at him while she paced back and forth again. Aragorn sighed and relented. Lena couldn't sleep and it looks like he would not be able to either. "Yes, you make good points. So how are we going to disguise ourselves?" he asked.

Lena stopped pacing again, and her eyes lit up. "Oh, no,", groaned Aragorn, "You have an idea."

Lena grinned wider and said, "A caravan! It will look common enough. And we'll even have an excuse to carry weapons. And even if some thieves are stupid enough to try and pull something, I can clearly show them the error of their ways. It's perfect!"

"And just what are we going to carry in the wagons?" Aragorn asked.

"Food," Lena declared, "And people if need be." Aragorn pondered on this for a moment before saying, "I'll bring it up tomorrow, and see what people think."

Laurendil was deep in thought as she headed towards the Quad. Of course, the one person she would run into was the last person she would want to meet: Finrod. He walked alongside her easily, ignoring all the normal courtesy of greetings. After a few moments of silent walking, Finrod said, "You would hate me for this, but I still have to say it. This is the exact reason I left Valinor."

Despite herself, Laurendil was curious and found herself listening intently as Finrod took a pause and continued, "Absolutely nothing stirs the peace of the Blessed Realm." At that statement, Laurendil almost snorted – it figures, she thought to herself, if he could, he would have died of boredom. Here, at least he can fight.

Finrod was saying, "Be not afraid that Saruman would go there. His might is nothing compared to those who rule in Valinor. But here, he is our concern, and here, he must be destroyed. If there is any way I can help, I will do it." And with that, he stopped talking, turned away and started walking towards his room. Laurendil stopped also, watching his retreating back, a swirl of emotions raging within her. That he irritated her was, without a doubt, but at the same time, when she caught sight of him fighting … there was just something about it that made one just feel … safe. And what he just said, made her feel that there was something more to him that just .. someone who enjoyed the blood and gore of fighting.

At that moment, he stopped and turned to face her suddenly and Laurendil felt her face flush in embarrassment, as if she had been caught in staring at him. His face was serious, however, as he looked straight into her eyes and said, "Do not forget that we all suffered because of the Oath. Do not hold that against me."

With that statement, tears pricked at Laurendil's eyes. The Oath of Feanor. The Oath that had caused countless heartache and pain to countless people. Her voice barely above a whisper, as she stared at the ground, Laurendil said, "You misunderstand, my Lord."

Finrod had already turned around and was taking the first few steps to leave again when he heard her words, soft thought they may be. The fact that she actually called him 'My Lord' was enough cause for him to stop short suddenly, turn around and look at her in complete amazement and puzzlement. Taking a deep breath, Laurendil forced herself to look at him, pain clearly evident behind her eyes as she continued, "I had never held it against you. The Oath caused sufferings beyond reason and explanation - but you were never a part of the Oath. My father, however, was and for that, his suffering is eternal. You see, my father is Maglor."

Although Finrod had suspected as much, it was still a surprise to him. But that still didn't explain her often antagonistic behaviour to him, "If that is the case, then why do you seem to hate me so much? You cannot deny you're often irritated with me."

Laurendil shrugged and ran a hand nervously through her hair, "Oh I don't know! I don't hate you … it was just …" oh, Mordor, Laurendil cursed under her breath as she tried to get her thoughts clear, "There were just so many things. I thought you knew who I was, because you came from Mandos. Perhaps Namo told you, perhaps not. I couldn't face people if they knew ... and added to that, I hate fighting. There had been so much suffering, killings done by my family .. and yet, you just seem to enjoy it so much ... too much … and all I see is how bad people are being cut up … and how bad it had been, all that blood and killing amongst Elves. Years of suffering … It's ... it's horrible!"

To her horror, Laurendil found herself starting to cry, as if a dam had burst within her. All the years of holding it in and now, at the worst possible moment, tears were gushing down her face like a waterfall. Appalled, she turned and ran away from Finrod, who was too shocked to do anything but stand there and stare at her disappearing figure. He stood there, forgetting where he had wanted to go. Laurendil's wounds were indeed deep, and he understood now her reaction to him. But he had meant no harm. He sighed and unconsciously touched his sword beside him. Finrod enjoyed the fight only because he could finally have a revenge for all these elves, his kin, who had died in the dark ages. For each stroke that he made, for each Orc that fell, he felt a huge release in his soul that gave him a certain peace. He had to explain it somehow to her. He didn't bother to wonder why it was important to him to have her understand it.

At that moment, his stomach rumbled and he grinned. First, though, he had to get some food – and talk to Gilrean, Legolas and Nimbrethil to discuss further plans. He started walking towards their rooms, with Laurendil's words echoing in his head.

When Elanor woke again, it was dark. She moaned – her lips were parched and her shoulder ached.

"Water, cousin?" came a familiar voice to her right. She turned, and saw Béomir with a glass of water in his hand. Elanor greedily sipped some then took a look at her cousin. He was badly beat up, and his eye was patched.

"Ay Béomir what happened to you?"

"Fighting orcs, Elanor, is dangerous business", he replied, smiling, "But what about you? What will you do? Does your mother even know that you are here?"

Elanor's smiled faded at the change in topic. "No. And neither does my Father. A bunch of elf maidens know … and you … and my brothers … and the Lady Eowyn, but that is it."

"But you know that they will send you home to marry if they find out!" exclaimed Béomir, who was worried for his cousin. Before Elanor could answer, Laurendil entered the area, eyes looking slightly red and puffy as if she had been crying. The sight distressed Elanor, for even though she barely knew the elf, a bond had developed between them, and that bond was growing.

"Laurendil!" cried Elanor, and Laurendil, hearing this, came over. "Whats wrong?" She reached out for the elf maiden's hand as she stopped by her bedside. Laurendil smiled, and laughed to cover her sadness, "Wrong? Nothing is wrong. It's nothing Elanor. Just some silly thing. But come now, what about you? How are you feeling?"

Elanor accepted the change in topic to respect Laurendil's privacy. Thus, she answered, "I'm much better. Just tired, even though I did sleep through the day!"

"It is expected. You needed to sleep the poison off," explained Laurendil. Turning to Béomir, she reached out to touch his face, asking, "If I may?" He hesitated for a while, but finally nodded and stood still as her gentle fingers removed his eye patch and prodded his tender face.

"It will still be sore for another few days, but it is healing nicely. Soon, there will be nothing but a slight scar." She got up, taking her bow and empty quiver beside Elanor's bed, "Excuse me, I've got to keep these." They nodded, and began talking as she walked away, and Laurendil could hear Elanor whisper to Béomir, "I wonder why she was crying?"

Laurendil sighed. Thinking back, even she could not understand it. She supposed it was simply the years of holding it back. And Finrod. She sighed. He was the first Noldor elf she had met in a long time, and worse, he's from the First Age. The others had already left for the Undying Lands. She sighed again. Why did she act so unreasonable whenever he was around? Maybe because he simply reminded her all too well the failings of her house. And her bitterness and anger at her grandfather, and sadness, just spilled over and hit the easiest target: him. Because he represented the time when it had all happened. It wasn't fair, she knew, but she couldn't help it.

Back at the Quad, Béomir fixed the patch back over his eye. He looked at Elanor tenderly, for she appeared completely helpless on the makeshift hospital bed. She always brought out this feeling of protectiveness within him, even though she was more than capable of handling herself in a battle. He got up, saying, "I have to head back for Gondor to check on my sister. Not to worry, I will be back in a few days. You stay and rest." Elanor nodded and watched as Béomir headed off to tell his father and King Elessar before heading off to the stables, once again in his dark cloak.

Elanor leaned back on her bed, thinking of all that had happened that night. She smiled her thanks to Holly, who came over to check up on her. Holly had been helping with the wounded almost all day. Most of the wounded seemed to be healing pretty well. She was glad she could do something to help. She hated how she had panicked during the battle. The really shameful thing was, she could have been of some help as she was very good at archery, and not bad with a sword. Her older brother had taught her when she was younger … before he disappeared. She hadn't had much practice since then, because she was afraid that someone would find out and for some reason, she didn't want anyone to.

Holly shrugged, thinking, Oh well, maybe I'll get my chance to prove that I am something more than just a baby and a coward. One thing was for sure, though. Something odd was happening, with all these orcs attacking. She even thought she had heard someone say something about a wizard. She was worried, her eyebrows brought together as she thought about the past events. Still, before she could worry any more, pure exhaustion won and she fell asleep sitting beside another wounded soldier.

Just at that moment, the Queen Lothiriel and Lady Eowyn entered the Quad. They took a moment to view the area before heading towards Elanor. Inwardly, Elanor groaned and cringed. She was all alone and had to confront them. Steeling herself, she forced herself to appear calm as they reached her bedside. Her mother spoke first. "My child! I just found out! I went to tell your father and then I came here with the Lady. What are you doing here? And then out there? You could have been killed!"

But Elanor heard nothing after 'to tell your father'' ... "You told Father?" she gasped.

Her mother gave her that look, as if Elanor was witless, "Of course, Elanor! He is very worried about you, you know. We really must get this sorted out. But I must go now. I came to see how you were, but I have some urgent matters to attend to. Go to sleep, my child. I will be back soon. You must rest up for the journey home!" Elanor could hardly keep her face straight at that statement and clenched her teeth to stop herself from protesting.

After the Queen had left, the Lady Eowyn comforted her niece. "Do not worry, Elanor. You were very brave. You really saved Béomir you know."

Elanor smiled at that, and confessed, "I was trying to be like you! You are always so brave! And you killed the Witchking!"

Eowyn smiled again, stroking Elanor's hair, "And you were! Now go get some rest, and don't worry... everything will be fine..." Elanor nodded, and despite herself, fell asleep. Eowyn waited until Elanor was truly asleep before leaving.