"Birds flying high… you know how I feel… Sun in the sky… You know how I fell. Reeds drifting on by you know I feel. It's a new dawn it's a new day it's a new life ! For me… and I'm feeling good…"

Frances could nearly hear the drums starting as she sang this last verse with the drama it deserved. In the chill air of late autumn, a few wild birds hung around and the wind carried dead leaves along the rocky path. Walking down the lake after a skating session, the young woman knew the path by heart. Days after days she would walk up the mountain, or run sometimes when she felt like sweating a bit, even if she could not compete with elvish stamina. The twins had accompanied her a few times in plain sight, and many more in secret. At first she had not been able to spot them since they knew the terrain so much better than she did, and were blending with nature like no human could. However, as time passed, she had finally learnt to recognize some signs, like the sweet smell they would leave in their trail. None of them knew that she could tell them apart, a deed that was rare enough in Imladris to be celebrated. Elves felt different than humans. They had this incredible glowing energy radiating from their very souls, like a bright light in the dark. It had taken a lot of time and concentration for her to be able to detect their presence but after hours of sitting alone in her room tuning her senses she had finally managed. An elf felt like… it felt a tingling sensation of warmth pouring like a fountain of life into the surrounding nature.

So now she was singing down the path as every day, and she could feel the twins lurking behind her at a good distance. Aware that she had no chance of surprising them even by hiding skillfully she went on with her song until the end.

And I'm feeling good…

Waiting for a few seconds, standing in the middle of the path, Frances observed the close range of mountains spreading before her and closing the valley. As they would not show, the young woman lost patience ad said out loud without turning back:

- "Come on sneaky twins, get out of hiding before I get pissed".

Nothing happened for a few seconds, and then two surprised heads popped up behind heavy boulders. Keeping her gaze hard, Frances had the pleasure to see a sheepish expression pass across their fair features. Did they even know how beautiful they were, those mischievous twins, to the human eye ?

- "That was Elladan's idea", started Elrohir, recognizable by the thinner line of his jaw and the twinkle sparkling in his eyes.

- "That is untrue" started his mischief companion, ready for an argument.

- "Honestly, I don't give a damn" Frances interrupted.

Elrohir's dark eyebrows lifted on his fair face.

- "So you do not mind if we follow you?"

His tone was so alike his father's, the mighty lord Elrond, that Frances couldn't contain a smile.

- "Nope"

- "Oh then… We could keep you company…"

- "Yep"

The twins were slightly taken aback by her weird and limited sense of speech, but it seemed that she did not mind them tagging along, so they started walking with her while bickering among themselves, as was their habit. At first very excited about her visit, the twins had started to wonder if the young lady would beat their foster brother at brooding. She did not talk much, and acted very reserved and ill at ease in their father's house, even if the elves had made great effort to make her days comfortable. After hours of guessing, the twins had just come to the conclusion that Frances was a very solitary woman, like their brother, which made sense because she had travelled alone from far away and into the wilds.

Her reaction had them reconsidering their point of view, and in Elladan's mind an idea formed. Maybe that she acted solitary because she was forced to, having no companion to talk to, and this was the reason why she welcomed their presence so well. It was not every day you fell from another world after all, and even more scarce to be a prophetic figure known for a few millenia. What the elf did not realize was that the young woman actually felt very intimidated by her immediate surroundings. Be it Elrond, Arwen, Gandalf, Glorfindel or Estel, all those beings seemed to possess great skills and incommensurable wisdom. She feared to speak in their presence because she did not want to make a fool of herself, this was just self preservation. The twins however felt different. Sure enough, their aura gave her dangerous vibes, and they were not to be taken lightly, but still they had this nonchalance about them and childish behavior that made them accessible. The never-ending pranks and jokes that seemed to follow their lead diminished this unreachable character that was inherent to the elves.

- "So what would you want us…"

- "…to converse about?' they asked, one starting the sentence and the other one finishing it.

- "Mmm, I have heard a lot about the first and second age heroes, but not so much about you... Would you care to enlighten me?"

She was paying a lot of attention to her speech, as was needed. The people around here were sometimes difficult to understand, and she had come to realize that aside from being rude because of her frankness, so was she when using her own home-made expressions. Adapting had not taken so long since everything she heard around her was turned in this weird way of speaking. However, most elves did use Sindarin as they spoke, and she spoke very scarcely. Now the council was over and preparations being made, she needed to learn more thoroughly.

Her return to Imladris seemed much shorter than usual with the twins' presence. They were bickering again at each other because they did not remember exactly the same details of a childhood history that had happened thousands of years ago. The twins had never separated, and therefore all their stories were shared. This duality of points of view was the source of the gentle banter between the two elves, but far from annoying Frances, this display of mocked affection made her laugh. After all, they had helped her built some ices skates so she owed them big time.

An easy friendship developed between them albeit she knew that she was just a distraction in their everlasting life. Contrary to the greenwood elves who mostly kept to themselves, the twins sook her out quite often, counting tales of their mischievousness as elflings. Poor Arwen… what she had been through !

Sometimes, they dared asking about her own world, when they saw that she was in good spirits. It would, inevitably, make her nostalgic so they did not linger much on the subject. In the time they spend together, a great part of it was spend in the surroundings, at first by foot and afterwards on horseback as the twins soon substituted themselves to Estel and Arwen to take her around the city. Without realizing, she actually learnt a lot from their hunting techniques, and even more from their complementary fighting ones albeit this was really unwanted.

One day that ventured beyond the borders of the river to get Frances to master steep and muddy terrains with her horse. Estel had joined them, taking advantage of their presence to give some scouting tips to Frances. They encountered tracks that she was unfamiliar with. The muddy holes were very large and deep enough for the beast to weight at least two hundred pounds. As she got ready to dismount, the ranger's hand on her shoulder dissuaded her from doing so. Ahead of her, the twins' posture had changed radically. Even if they were always warier once they passed the boundaries, their stiffness was beyond anything she had known. Frowning, Frances managed to get her mare to take a few quiet steps, which was already an exploit for her riding skills.

The slight noise produced by the hooves was nearly inaudible, but it however alerted Elladan, whose elvish ears were much more sensitive than hers. He turned around. The sharp intake of breath she took was the only indication of the shock that struck her as she met his gaze. His whole face, usually so quiet and thoughtful, had turned into a mask of anger and hatred. The color of his eyes now seemed black, and the sight of not only one, but two furious elves nearly knocked her out of the saddle. If the danger she had sensed first in their aura had never made it to their cheerful surface, it was now the only component left. Darkness seemed to have reached for them, end enveloped the twins in a veil of anger. This was the dark side of them, and Frances released a breath she had not realized she was holding when her lungs started screaming in pain.

- "Yrch!", spat Elrohir, his voice betraying the disgust he felt towards the creatures

- "We must fall back", came Estel's soothing voice, trying to seed some sense into his brother's mind.

- "Never!" exclaimed Elladan.

All his wisdom fled as he unleashed his elven sword in a swift movement.

- "You get back. We'll meet you at home", Elrohir said, launching his steed at full speed.

- "Wait!"

Estel extended an arm to grasp Elladan's arm but elf was too quick for him and soon both twins were just a cloud of mud disappearing between the trees. Frances, stunned by the change of mood, turned a questioning gaze to the youngest of her three guides for explanations. His face was concerned; he was thinking fast. His instinct screamed at him not to abandon his foster brothers to their fate, but they surely could take better care of themselves that him with the young lady to protect. Furthermore, the tracks had not been very numerous. Deciding that he could for once follow their orders, the ranger turned his mount around and gesture his charge to do the same.

- "We need to get back to the city swiftly."

- "What's up?", she asked, her voice containing a slight note of panic as she didn't know what had happened to her ever funny twins.

- "There are orcs around here, let's go !", he answered.

Frances knew better than to question Estel's orders, and so she followed. Luck was however not on their side on this gloomy day, and as they started ascending a steep hill, her mount gave a sharp whining noise and stumbled, one of her legs stung by a blackened spike. Fortunately for the young lady, the horse collapsed instead of throwing her away, and she could roll out and get back on her feet quite easily. The gentle grey mare was struggling to get back on her fours, but before Frances could react the ranger grabbed her arm roughly and started dragging her away from the mare.

- "Get on my horse, quick!", he shouted

The young woman did not object, knowing fully that Estel was much more proficient at the art of staying alive than she was. However, she did not get time to mount the stallion before a whistling noise forced her to fall back, another blackened spear hitting the flank of the brown beast where her head had been not a second before. The horse sent a distressed cry before kicking high and collapsing to the ground a few yards ahead.

- "Climb that tree!", ordered a voice behind him as she was once more being pulled in another direction.

Her heart ached for the poor stallion and her mare, but nothing could be done before they knew what they were dealing with. Dusk was not so far away now, but the blackened edges of the forest did not come from the natural shadows of the trees. Somewhere were foul creatures whose champion had killed their mounts; Estel was already assessing their numbers. Whereas he did not want to endanger her or rather not have her stumbling around while he fought, Frances obeyed swiftly. She was not ready yet for heavy sword battle against supernatural forces, she still needed her training, and the shadow of the trees could offer a shelter, provided they did not have bow. Luckily enough, no arrows were in view, except from the very skilled spear fighter.

Estel suddenly seized her waist as if she weighted nothing and she braced herself for a clear jump. His impulsion sent her flying to a branch that she caught easily, and in a flick of her wrist she was balancing herself to get her legs to a higher one. Climbing into trees was her entire childhood occupation, and the reason why she had embarked on her first adventures in the first place. If there was something she was proficient at, it was dancing around trunks and branches, hanging over one or two hands, sometimes even none as she balanced herself with the crook of her neck. The bow on her back was getting her into troubles, and she soon had to reassess her abilities with this extra length. However, she was quickly high enough to be hidden by bigger branches.

Giving a look behind her confirmed that the ranger had wanted her out of the way, but intended to stand its ground. Detaching her bow and reaching for a quiver, Frances intended to even the odds and make up for her uselessness in this fight. What came next however made her regret that she had obeyed and shied away like a coward. The ring of steel filled the air as Aragorn freed his two-handed sword from the scabbard in a swift movement. They were surrounded, and more than a dozen blackened creatures were now making their way to the lonely ranger. Most of them did not seem very impressive, Aragorn towering over the creatures that she guessed were orcs from at least one head. However, one bulky form slowly approached the grouping, and his proud demeanor showed that he probably was the head of the little party.

- "Give up ranger", said a deformed voice, "you are no match for us".

- "I won't"

His voice, calm and determined, had such a soothing lilt that Frances wondered how confident the ranger was. He had probably faced worst odds.

- "We will hack you to tiny pieces and get your companion down from this tree. A lovely piece of meat she will be once we will be fed up playing with her…"

Frances's blood ran cold in her veins as she took up their sheer number. There was at least a dozen, but more were hidden to her unclear sight from between the leaves. There was no way Estel could handle this alone, and no freaking way they would manage even by being the two of them. There was not a damn thing she could do to prevent him from being killed, and herself to be used like a plastic doll. No… he though, she would die first before she would let them do this. Their smell was utterly disgusting; the relent of their foulness reaching her nose even from her higher spot.

- "So what do you say ranger?", growled the bulky form, "I will have fun seeing you die…"

Frantically searching her mind, the young woman observed as Aragorn detached himself from the trunk to get more space. The leader stepped back, apparently keen on watching the game that was about to be played. Suddenly a light clicked in her head. They had nor bows nor arrows, which meant that they could not take her down. Well, that was a bit different then, she though with a smile. As a yell resonated in the same husky voice as before, Frances refused to watch in horror as the inner circles of the group started moving on Aragorn. Instead pulling on the cord and knocking an arrow, she left the string fly and missed. Cursing under her breath and reloading as soon as possible, the corner of her eyes caught a scene she had not expected to witness.

For sure Aragorn was greatly outnumbered, but for now his dancing form was digging holes in to the first lines of orcs that had dared approaching him. He was everywhere, moving aside here and kicking there while beheading an enemy or disemboweling another. The energy and anger he poured in this battle was enough to make them flinch, and when his blade struck there was no hope left. His lethal blows were literally raining, the death dance putting him everywhere at the same time. Any moment of hesitation or slowness was punished. Severed members followed his long blade anytime it swung. The orcs, at first over confident and sluggish had become a bit more concentrated now that the heads of their companions were lying at their feet.

Targeting the leader that had his eyes lifted to the tree, Frances finally managed and the shaft of the arrow soon protruded from the orc's chest as he fell to the ground. Yay ! Frances gained a bit of confidence and started pummeling into her enemies. Releasing arrow after arrow, she started clearing the closest ranks, giving Aragorn some space. However, despite her keen work and the ranger's furious blows, they kept closing on him. The fight was becoming more difficult with such a long sword, and Aragorn abandoned it into an opponent while producing another shorter one in the same instant. The change had been incredibly swift, but still an assailant managed to take advantage of it, and while he got ready to stab the ranger in the flank, Frances released one of her last arrows. For an instant she though that it would miss, but fortunately she had anticipated well the movement of the orc. It didn't, piercing his left shoulder as he lifted the blade.

Then it was over. Her depleted stock of arrows protruding from the broken forms of bleeding orcs could do nothing more for her, and still more were coming. Aragorn's blows were getting weary, and the young lady decided once more against common sense. Launching herself into the branches, she finally ended up a few yards from the ground, behind the group, and she let herself hang with one hand as she produced her sword with the other one. The elvish blade rang into the mess of the battle, and she started shouting.

- "Want me guys? Come around and get me!", she screamed, her voice not as assured as it should have been.

She was only a few yards from the ground, but still easily reachable from one that could climb the closest branches. The diversion however, worked quite well as several orcs were cut down swiftly by an angered ranger. His shock was immense, but he did not allow himself some time to think about it as he took advantage of the breaking ranks to cut them from behind. This was insanely stupid and clever at the same time because the lure of fresh woman meat took precedence on numerous orcs. They rushed to the young lady and started climbing the tree now; their leader was dead and his orders forgotten.

This would not end well, but now that they had taken the bait it was time to get back to gymnastics and play the squirrel. As she made her way up, faster than a little tree mouse, two identical yells echoed through the woods, petrifying the orcs for an instant. The voices were elvish for sure, and the very slight distinctive tone between the two of them indicated that the twins had returned.

- "The tree!", Estel cried out.

Neither twins asked for details as one of them rushed up the branches, and the second came to fortify Aragorn's position. In half a minute, Frances realized that the tree was still again. All the orcs that had followed her were now laying on the ground. An instant after, one of the dark-haired elf landed on the ground without a noise, jumping into the fray immediately.

Her eyes bigger than flying saucers, Frances contemplated the orc's doom as they were mercilessly hacked into pieces. If Aragorn's fighting skills had reminded her of a dancer, the twins' were more akin to God's wrath. Destruction oozed from them like a wave of darkness, bodies dropping at an amazing rate as their swords literally flew around them faster than the eyes could see. It was unnerving and distressing to watch them fight, the anger they radiated burning their opponents like holy fire as they slashed, diced and reduced to pieces anything that stood in their way. A few orcs tried to escape, but an arrow stopped them before they had gone more than a few dozen feet. The last one at last fell from Elrohir's sword, while another got pierced through the back at least four hundred yards from her tree.

Silence came back, unchallenged by any living creature after the sheer massacre that the forest had witnessed. Breathing heavily, Aragorn wiped his blade clean on an orc's piece of clothing before sliding it back into its scabbard. There was an uneasy feeling in the air, a lurking anger and reproachful looks passed between the three sons of Elrond, but nothing was spoken. Instead, the ranger tiptoed between the bodies to get close to the tree.

- "Are you alright my lady?"

The formal speech tried to hide his concern, but Frances knew better; Estel was livid.

- "Yeah, she answered shakily, "er…coming right down".

- "Do you wish for one of us to help you?"

Frances took a deep breath, willing for her voice not to shake.

- "No, I'll be ok"

- "Ok?"

The dark haired elf, Elladan or Elrohir, seemed puzzled. As he turned to his brother in questioning, this one shrugged and got back to the survey of the dead and wounded. Estel inwardly smiled, glad that, for once, the twins were at loss while he knew how to translate Frances' words. His anger towards their reckless actions could not be voiced nor appeased for now, so focusing on the young lady seemed like a good start before they had the unavoidable discussion… argument. Elrond would be furious that they had left their need for revenge dictate their actions and thus nearly gotten their guest and his foster son killed in the meantime.

As Frances made her way down, carefully stepping because of sore muscles from the rough climbing, she noticed the stench emerging from the blackened ground and already rotting bodies. Yuck ! How could creatures smell so bad ? Needless to say that she would remember her first brush with Yrch – orcs – without fondness.

Below her, heavy silence had settled. No need to be a genius to figure out what was going on, but still she could not understand how such hatred could animate elven faces. There was an underlying story to this, and she intended to ask Estel once they would be alone again. For the moment though, they had to make their way back. She hoped that her mare had survived … without much conviction.

Estel's hand shot up, and she grabbed it as he seized her waist to cushion her landing. The ranger was covered in scratches and darkened blood from the battle. Frances frowned, trying to assess whether he was hurt or not. Finding that he seemed to move properly, she reached for his arm.

- "Thank you", she told him, her face totally sincere.

- "You're welcome", he shrugged.

The young woman almost rolled her eyes. 'Of course, dear lady. I'll pass you the salt, have tea and biscuits… and save you from certain death, torture and defiling anytime. My pleasure.' Men ! Obviously, the ranger had not fathomed the depth of her gratitude.

- "No I mean, thank you for protecting me…"

There was a softness in his grey eyes when he turned to face her fully. Relief, and worry as well.

- "Well… Had you not come down I would be dead"

Frances snorted and he lifted a hand to silence her, reverting, once more, to the stern ranger she had known on the road. The leader. Given what she knew of him now – heir to the throne of Gondor – she had no trouble reconciling the part with his character.

- "That was a very reckless thing to do, Frances. I wish to never have you in this situation again"

- "I was short of arrows", she shrugged casually, "I was useless up there"

- "No you were not"

Elrohir almost startled her as he handed back a bundle of arrows. She had been so engrossed in her analysis of Estel – well, Aragorn – that she had failed to hear his footsteps. Sneaky twin ! Nodding her thanks to the elf, she was surprised when he told her:

- "All those arrows are yours, and you have killed at least eight of them. Next time take some more…"

Frances' cheeks reddened, a part of it from the compliment and the other part because she had not taken enough arrows and had ended up in a very dangerous situation.

- "I will", she answered. "I am sorry I didn't take more…"

- "You would not have needed more had we possessed the twins"

Estel strode away after his angry retort. The sudden outburst did not go unnoticed, but none of the elves reacted. Feeing rather uneasy, Frances frowned. Around her, the smell was unbearable, and the young woman felt lucky that adrenaline was still flowing through her veins because if not she would have thrown up right then and there. Blocking the smell away from her mind, she suddenly turned around in search of her white mare. Dusk was there, and her white form was easily noticeable in the gloomy atmosphere.

- "Alca!", she cried out.

Reaching the horse, she fell to her knees. The mare had probably stopped breathing a long time ago. A blackened blade was dug deeply into the horse's chest, and the scarlet blood pooling around the wound. Her eyes filling with tears, Frances hardy saw Elrohir's hand removing the orc's foul steel through her blurry vision. Her hands absently stroked the white horse's mane as her mind blacked out from shock. Death. A few instants later, Elrohir lifted her off the ground and made her mount his stallion. He then placed himself in front of her, and the little company departed in silence.

The ride went smoothly, the horses responding much better to the elven twins than to her clumsy riding skills. Frances tried to adapt to the speed by keeping one hand over Elrohir's waist and another over his hip, modeling her moves to his. Other than this effort to keep stable and not slow down the little company, she stayed silent. To the elves, it seemed like she had gone non responsive to external stimuli, but Estel knew better. What went on in the little head of hers was usually inaccessible, but there was no doubt that she kept altert at any time.

Overall, Frances was just trying to process whatever had happened earlier, and there was much to think about. First of all, she needed to deal with the violence and death she had witnessed, included her soon to be friend the white mare. Then there was the orcs' behavior, the tale of their origin coming back to her mind, and the actual absence of resemblance with elves. There was also the realization of the risk she had taken, but the success of her diversion. This meant a lot and could be used later as a desperate strategy. When their leader was down, orcs got back to their inner essence and were more vulnerable to temptation. Then, and most importantly, she was trying to remember every move of Estel's fight, and the crazy dancing with which the twins had annihilated every living creature around them. There was much to learn. Frowning, the young lady was wondering about the fury that had taken control of the twins. The ranger's reaction had been different. She doubted that it was an experience born difference, given the age of her elven friends, and she swore to find the truth about it.

Finally, they were home. After crossing the river and following the steep path in the gloom, the little company crossed the arches of the fortified gate. Their arrival sent the household in turmoil, probably because of their shaggy look and horrid smell. As Elrohir helped her dismount, his whole posture was tense. The lord's arrival followed a few seconds afterwards, his face wearing a deep frown and his grey eyes burning. 'Daddy is angry', she thought, understanding that the twins were about to get a beating. How could he possibly know what had happened ?

- "Get cleaned and join me in the study", he said, his voice harsh.

The glare he wore had Frances' knees tremble, but as his gaze crossed hers his face sweetened a bit.

- "Get some rest and a decent dinner, lady Frances, this does not concern you"

Cowardly accepting the peace offer, the young lady bowed and was taken away by one of the maids. It was never the same one, and she did not bother because she anyway could not remember names. As the elf maiden prepared a bath in silence Frances welcomed this display of courtesy, and did not utter a sound. Once soaked into the warm water, she finally realized what had nearly happened. Rape, torture and death by foul creatures. The sobs came without warning, and soon she was loudly shaking her fear and distress out of her mind. It was oddly frightening to lose control of her own body like this, her convulsions reflecting much deeper fears and insecurities than she would have admitted, but soon enough she was exhausted and the tears stopped from themselves.

A tray was brought to her room, but the maid told her that if she so wished she would be welcomed in the dining hall. Being in an awkward mood, the young lady ate a lonely dinner before deciding to retire and get some sleep. However, she had not counted on it to be so elusive, and after about an hour watching the beautiful ceiling, Frances grabbed a simple set of robes that she could lace by herself, and she threw a cape over it before heading out.