(First posted on 12-14-02 on It gets better later on. Trust us)

A.N The first thing that we must come to terms with is the fact that this fic has been written three times because it kept getting wiped from the disk! We have to explain that if something has been written once it is hard to put your very all into it once again (let alone the third time round) but we have tried. And after reading this fic over many times, we can tell you that it does get a lot, LOT better. Just persevere…

Disclaimer for whole (got that?) fic: We are making no money from this (damn), have no intention of infringing on any ancient copyright laws, and are aware, as we're sure you are, that all this stuff belongs to Mr Tolkien.

P.S. 'insert text here' is thought, and "insert text here" is another language.

"…So close no matter how far
couldn't be much more from the heart
forever trusting who we are
and nothing else matters…"

Metallica Nothing Else Matters

Chapter One – Alpha

A chilling wind skimmed across the ground, picking up the crisp autumn leaves that had settled on the forest floor. It shook the trees and created swarming dust devils that incorporated a thousand different shades of burgundy, fading green and yellow. The once glorious canopy of trees that clustered the sky had been reduced to mere skeletons in the icy expanse that was branching upon winter.

The forward horizon was filled with heavy clouds that threatened to break and set forth a torrent at any moment which would only add to the mud that already lay inches deep on the frozen ground. Few sounds broke through the dampening silence that covered the area for miles around. A bird chirping on a branch somewhere far off into the distance. The continual scraping of branches against one another as they blew in the wind. And the heavy footfalls of a mare that plodded along one of the rarely used tracks.

She carried on, not with great speed, but with a determined steadiness that meant her rider would reach their destination as soon as they intended, and not before. Puffs of hot breath escaped the beast's nostrils as she walked along, the mare's silvery grey coat shimmering in what was left of the afternoon sun. The rider she bore upon her back sat slumped in the saddle, whatever features they had concealed by a misty green cloak, the only part visible being their gloved hands that held the reigns in a loose grip. A cloud of warm air escaped the hood as the rider sighed, still unmoving.

'Why did I even bother to come…' was one of the many thoughts that clamoured for attention in the rider's troubled mind. 'It's not like they need me, or even want me for that matter. What's the point of me travelling all this way just to deliver a simple message?' The mare snorted as if to agree.

Tillén twanged his bow absentmindedly as he sat, perched, waiting for anything to come by. Being one of the many soldiers that guarded the surrounding forestry of Imladris was possibly one of the most tedious jobs under the sun. He was a young elf, with no more than five hundred years to his name. He'd joined the guard of Rivendell in hope of some sort of action. But few came to Rivendell via this muddy and forgotten track, and even if they did, it was rarely to invade.

The odd Orc sometimes lost its way and drifted through the borders of the last homely house. That was the most excitement he'd had in the past ten years. Although, with the strange goings-on in Mordor, who was to say what the future held? He kept on this train of thought for about a minute before something snapped him out of his reverie. Hooves.

He crept into a suitable spot where he was reasonably concealed, and listened intently to the approaching beast. It was a large breed, obviously a human's; no elf would risk such a heavy Warmblood. Even if they did, it would probably be carrying two or three people. As it got closer, he could make out the solitary slumped figure cloaked in green that sat atop the mare. She was walking along at a steady pace, not in any hurry to go anywhere. There was a large clearing just in front of him; he would stop the intruder there.

The horse trotted onwards, showing no intention to stop or slow down, as it reached the centre of the clearing, Tillén opened his mouth to make his presence known, but the rider spoke first.

"Halt, Túlka." Came the command from under the hood. The mare obediently ground to a halt. The hood looked straight at the soldier concealed in the undergrowth.

"I know you're there. I've been aware of your presence for some time now. Just make it less embarrassing for yourself and come out." Tillén drew his bow before obediently stepping out into the open.

"Who are you?" He demanded, "State your name and business here in Rivendell." He finished, regaining some of his authority. Although he couldn't see the rider's face under the hood, he was sure it was looking straight at him.

"I assure you, I mean no harm to Rivendell or its few inhabitants, I simply wish to speak with Lord Elrond." Said the voice. It was deep, not overly manly, but it only left the soldier feeling more confused.

"I'm afraid I can not let you pass before you remove your hood and tell me who indeed you are." He instantly regretted the fact that his tone had been tinged with arrogance. Then again, it washis duty to guard here, was he going to let some defiant stranger petrify him? The lone figure sighed giving him the impression that if they complied, it was for their purpose alone. Finally, the rider brought a slender hand up to the hood, pushing it back with one swift movement. Tillén was certainly surprised, but did his best not to show it.

Three things struck him at once. The first was the simple fact that the rider was female, although he had suspected this owing to her voice and posture. The second, the odd silver-grey colour of her hair that at the moment was tied into a bun and secured with a thick leather strap, his first thought was that she must be one of the Noldor or at the very least one of the Galadhrim. For they were the Elves best known for their moonlight-coloured hair. The third was the fading scar that began mid-forehead, and ended just below her right cheekbone.

"My name is Yuna, if you must know." She said flatly, not taking her eyes off him. She wasn't unattractive, he decided, but only in the way that all elves were beautiful, compared to them, she had a rather plain face. It was then that a fourth thing struck him, apart from the slight points on the tips of her ears and, he surmised, some degree of height, there was nothing about her to suggest she was Elvish. He got the sinking feeling that she was in charge of the whole situation, and no matter what he said, she would be in Rivendell within the hour. He made a swift decision that he assured himself would benefit him in the long run.

"Proceed." Was the only thing his suddenly parched mouth could relay. Besides, he thought to himself, if she did indeed prove to be a threat, then the guards posted inside Rivendell would be more than equipped to handle her.

"Thank you my good man." She said with a thin smile before reigning her horse. "I will be sure to inform Lord Elrond of your most…ample service."

It was the constant barrage of names and old acquaintances that had brought Aragorn to search for a place of solitude. He had found it on a balcony that over looked Rivendell's main courtyard. Guests from every corner of Middle-Earth had been arriving for the past few days, none of them too anxious to hear of the news that would be put forth at the council the next day.

He recognised most of the visitors from dealings in the past. Whether or not they recognised him was beside the point. He sighed; the tranquillity of the Elven stronghold had always been a friend to him in times of tension. Closing his eyes for a moment he listened, not to the sound of various races which tended to have a superior quality of noise, more commonly know as the Dwarves, but to the small things. He opened them briefly after a few moments. Just in time to see a grey horse enter through the main arch that lead to the South road away from Rivendell.

The rider on its back was fully covered, making it nearly impossible for him to make out details as to their appearance. After the rider had lightly dismounted, the horse, without any assistance trotted off in the direction of the stables, as Elvish horses are wont, drawn by the fresh smell of hay and oats. This left the rider alone in the centre of the uninhabited courtyard. With some endeavour they strode forward to the main entrance. A moment before entering however, they paused and with a quick, precise motion, looked up.

Locking eyes with the person, Aragorn felt the slightest hint of recognition in their hooded gaze. Then they were gone, inside the main building. He felt a slight chill down his back, a thing that definitely did not happen on a regular basis. A certainty came to him. That person knew him. He didn't know why, how, or where from, but he was determined to find out.

The sun was setting rapidly, a signal that ensured that winter was firmly on its way. In a way this worried Elrond Pheredil, who was sat behind the hardwood desk that took up a portion of the study that was restricted to being his alone. It wasn't so much anything that the season brought with it, it just meant that his time in this place was growing short. He wondered if he should stay to see what fate was in store for his home. The decisions that would be made on the following morning were of the utmost importance to every life in Middle-Earth. The fact that he would be leading the talks did nothing to release the strain that had already been lain upon him. Every ounce of him wished that the ring had been destroyed those three thousand years before, but no magic he knew of was powerful enough to turn back the hands of time, neither would he be ignorant enough to meddle with such a force.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the large elm door leading in. He took a brief moment to ready himself before returning to his surroundings.

"Enter" He beckoned. The door swung forward with ease, Yuna striding in without hesitation. "Ah, Lady Yunalesca." He said in a friendly manner. "Please take a seat." She looked to the small, sturdy chair that was placed a few inches in front of Elrond's desk then walked forward, removing her hood as she sat down stiffly.

"I don't care for titles, Lord Elrond." She said, neither face nor tone betraying any unwanted emotions. "But of course you were aware of that."

"I see you haven't changed." He said rather more sternly.

"I suppose not." She replied blankly.

"Well then, let us get on. I'm sure that we would both enjoy reminiscing on the past, but this is neither the time nor the place. What word do you bring from the Ents?" Yuna took a breath before answering; no matter how dire the subject; she would not be rushed.

"They say that although they understand the situation, they can not help you at this time." Elrond remained silent, steepling his hands in thought. "I am sure you are well aware of this already, but there is trouble in Isengard. Saruman has betrayed us, and he has already begun to build an army for the Dark Lord. We have little time left. Already there have been small attacks on the lower borders of Fangorn. I am aware of how selfish it may seem, but we have problems of our own. Although The Ents can partially defend themselves, they are not famous for their abilities in battle against the creatures that now inhabit Isengard and a large wave of attacks could cause us serious damage." She paused, sighing before she continued. "Amin hiraetha" She finished gravely.

"Even though I had hoped against it, I assumed this was the response I would meet." He said at length. "There is, however, another question I would ask of you. A favour, if you will." Yuna nodded her consent for him to continue. "Join us at the council tomorrow."

"Lord Elrond, if you assumed that I would willingly take the place of the Ents at your council, then I solemnly assure you, you are mistaken. Now, if that is all you require of me, I will take my leave." With this she rose, making an all too swift path towards the door.

"Yuna." He said, a moment before she disappeared into the corridor. She slowed to a halt. For all her arrogance, she still respected the Lord of Rivendell. "You have misunderstood my intentions. I believe that you would be a valued member of the discussion. I want you for your presence alone, not the Ents'. So I must ask you again, will you join us?" She tightened her grip on the door handle, staring at the rays of light that shone through the keyhole beneath it.

"I will…think about it. I know what it is you're planning, and you can count me out. If I choose to go tomorrow, it will only be so I can better assess the situation, not for anything nor anyone else."

Yuna stepped out into the corridor, shutting the door behind her. She had no desire to think of what had just been said, and was not willing to face it until she thought she had to. It didn't occur to her until a few seconds later when she saw a confused, dark-haired human walking hurriedly away, that she'd left her hood down. Something she rarely did in case she was recognised. She was not always a welcome visitor.

"Leaving so soon, Aragorn?" She cooed. He stopped in his tracks. "Or Strider, Estel, Dúnedain, Elessar or whatever it is you're calling yourself these days." The ranger turned around slowly to meet her piercing gaze. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about me already." The edges of her mouth gradually curled upwards. "Because I certainly have not forgotten about you." She pushed back the loose strands of hair that covered the angry scar that adorned the right side of her face in an idle gesture.

"Lady Yunalesca." He said icily. "A pleasure." With this, he turned and strode off. Yuna smiled to herself slightly, before turning in the opposite direction and heading to her temporary quarters.

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