"Ah. Brittany," Mithrandir began, "I have heard much and foreseen much about you—but, like the fickleness of flame, I do not know how much is true, or how much will come to pass. Elrond says you have elemental power, and that is the power spoken of in ancient prophecy. Today we will test to see what this power is, a command of the earth: to help something grow from nothing, air: to control the weather—call upon storms; water: to commune with the animals of the sea and bend the lakes to your will; or fire—the most explosive and dramatic of the elements," he shot Estel a stern glare when he sniggered.

"You have an opinion on something master Aragorn?" he inquired as Estel's face darkened to a scowl.

"I think I know my power already," I ventured timidly.

"Indeed!" Elrond was now scowling.

"Well, yeah, I incinerated a book in the library the other day—it wasn't an important one!" I added quickly, sensing this could turn into a very ugly situation.

"Well," Gandalf recovered quickly, "this saves us some time, first lesson will be calling upon this specific power—as I recall, Elrond taught you how to harness a general energy, correct?"

"Yeah! I can blow up things!"

"well...perhaps we can work to now…refine this power"

"Tomorrow." Elrond supplied, and dismissed Estel and I.

we wandered aimlessly until reaching the library. I sensed Estel needed some time to cool off, and was surprised when he spoke in a clipped tone: "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur, King of Gondor…one day, I will need to rule as king" he spoke brokenly of his past and how, at his mother's request, Elrond had taken him in as a member of his household at age two.

"How do you know of this future?"

"You are not the only one gifted with foresight!" He spoke sharply, and I cringed. He softened, and the subject was forgotten. In a quick departure from the previous conversation, Estel recommended a few books, and we pulled up chairs by the fire, and soon the only sound was the occasional pop and hiss of the flames crackling and the pounding of rain against the window panes.

I was engrossed in the tales of the Shire—the hobbits I didn't quite believe existed, the foreign, comforting world they represented—when a loud snore came from the easy chair next to mine. He had fallen asleep, complete with a little puddle of drool on the arm of the overstuffed chair. I was tempted to poke Estel and ruin the peaceful moment, but I happened to glance at the parchment he was writing on. It was a letter. To me. Instead of waking him, I merely tousled the dark locks of hair, blew out the remaining candles, and shut the door behind me on another day.

The next morning, training with the wizard began.

"First, there is something we must discuss with you. The day you came to Rivendell three months ago, I took the liberty of reading your memories—" I colored, remembering several embarrassing moments with the gang involving skinny dipping and public pools (truth or dare game in eighth grade) "You are a seer, one who knows the future of Middle Earth. I placed a block on these memories to prevent a change in the past or future; effectively silencing your inadvertent disclosure of these memories, of course." I snorted indignantly, as Elrond continued on, saying I could ruin some big quest that was going to happen in half a century, and his blatant invasion of my privacy was for the good of the world, etcetera. My rage began to grow, and I began to look around for something to focus on, to take my (half) mind off the fact that a certain elf-lord and company had decided to remove my memories.

BAM! Mithrandir's hat exploded into shards of fabric.

"we'dliketodiscussthesememorieswithus," Elrond finished quickly.

"Tomorrow," Mithrandir quipped. "Now, old friend, if you'll excuse us, I must teach my young pupil to control this power she wields." And he spent the next four and a half hours doing exactly that. When released (I had successfully called upon a single, controlled flame) I grabbed several blank scrolls and some quills and headed for the deserted beach where I appeared months earlier. I deposited the writing utensils and dove in, clothes and all and swam beneath the water until my lungs were gasping for breath, and ironically, my head felt much clearer. That completed, I settled down to write, to the best of my knowledge (Marina was the only one to get through all the books—I was just a movie junkie) the history of the war of the ring in chronological order, so as to be understood by Elrond. This brilliant idea gradually disintegrated as I began to instead sketch pictures of my favorite spots in Rivendell—places that had come to mean something to me over the past moths, memories I wanted to hold onto

Elladan in the healing room

Elrohir in the shade of a majestic tree

Elrond of the one eyebrow

Rumil (visiting from the Woods) teaching me to write a horse; and

Estel everywhere, my life doomed to he haunted forever by his smiling face. It seemed as though I was capturing everything, like I knew this was only a blissful transitory period between that which I had done, and that which I was born to do. Before a single teardrop could fall, I made my way back to the main hall.

That night, after dinner, Estel tugged me into the Hall of Fire, which, depressingly, was not a hall, nor was it made of fire. It was a large, domed room with a large fire kindled in the hearth and a small stage. Uh oh. Performing.

"What do we do in here?" I questioned Estel.

"Human torture," he replied seriously.

"Since we are the only two humans here, I suggest you—since you are the one fluent in Elvish—either start negotiating for our release, or sacrifice yourself for the cause."

"Certainly mi'lady, the terms for release are simple: play a song on your flute, which I coincidentally, have right here!"

"Some coincidence," I grumbled.

"So you'll play then?"

"That, or I'll shove the flute up your nostril," I informed him, "torture, remember?"

"I worry when you get that smile on your face."

"Oh, go perform." Estel stepped onto the stage and motioned for quiet.

"My good friends, allow me to assail your ears for a few moments with a song:

you raise me up, so I can stand on mountains

you raise me up, to cross on stormy seas

I am strong, when I am on your shoulders

You raise me up,

To be more than I can be."

Even though I knew that I couldn't be in love; that I barely knew the kid, my damn hormones took over. By the time he finished singing in a rich timbre my eyes were watering and my nose was red from unshed tears. And he was looking right at me with a smoldering expression. Oh, how I love teenage lust.

"Think you can top it?" Estel jumped with cat-like agility to the ground next to me, and I wanted to snog his 'now-I'm-to-cool-for-emotion' face sense. But two can play at the flirtation game.

"How sad, I have no song to repay your kind dedication with," I spoke, as he arched an eyebrow.

"Who said that song was for you? I meant it to profess my undying love for Elladan….ooof!" he replied as I smacked his arm.

I slowly moved to perform, selecting a piece that I could play passably, from Mozart's The Magic Flute. Feeling daring, I followed it up with the school fight song, which got it's fair share of strange looks. Luckily, a trio of harpists quickly took over and I went to find Estel, who promptly whisked me outdoors for our customary promenade through the forest, gazing at the stars and bathed in milky moonlight.

"In my time, the moon shines just as brightly," I began dreamily.

"sap" Estel said

"I am not!"

"I didn't mean it that way…look at the tree sap, it's the same amber that necklace you always wear is made from." He whipped out a pocket knife and began to carve on the tree, "B+E" in a heart.

"What are you doing? We've only known eachother for four months, we've come from different worlds…literally, and"

"It's cheesy, corny, sappy, and pathetic," he replied, ticking off the cons on his fingers. "I know. And I know there's a high improbability that we'll even feel something for each other in the future. The point is—well, there isn't exactly a point, but this can serve as a kind of benchmark. A reminder. You yourself know that something terrible is going to happen in the future, and this can be a reminder of happier times. Of simpler times."

"Just shut up and kiss me," and he did, breaking away only to ask if I now thought him a pansy. Nope.

So we walked back slowly, ignoring the vampire like hours we'd kept, and entering the chambers at the first rays of dawn. As Estel left my room I heard him say something along the lines of "I'll never forget…" but it sounded far away and hollow.

There was a prick on my arm, and I began to feel a cold seep into my veins. Dreams came faster and faster, rolling waves of memories, but distorted memories where my friends were screaming and there were flashing lights everywhere. Virginia with tears in her eyes and Marina sprinting like a chicken with its head chopped off.

"Come back," said Estel's voice, as another voice overlapped it…

"You much teach them…then you will understand your powers."

An acrid scent his my nostrils as I banged my head on a metal bar. Metal bar? I opened my eyes and was met with harsh fluorescent lighting and Selene's worried face. I preferred Elladan and Elrohir's wakeup call. And where did the lights come from? I hadn't been around electricity in months. I figured I had missed something big when the shout,

"SHE'S ALIVE!" went around the room. I shut my eyes tightly, hoping this pain was all a dream, even a nightmare, but that I would wake up in my flet in Rivendell, the room softly glowing with flickering candles and winking starlight. I peeked through an eyelid again. Damn those fluorescent lights.