-2933, Third Age
"Arathorn! Ride! Orc and troll!"
A loud cry pierced the air near the northern base of the Misty Mountains. Several cloaked and hooded figures froze, then started to turn back.
"No!" The apparent leader, obviously a male by his voice, ordered. "Arathorn is lost to us. Elladan, ride ahead, gather Gilraen and Aragorn, take them to your father in Rivendell. Elrohir, ride directly to Rivendell, and inform your father of Arathorn's death, and of Gilraen and Aragorn's pending arrival. The rest of you, clear the safest path between Ranger lands and Rivendell. I do not want so much as a nick on Gilraen or Aragorn."
"What of you, Calean?" One of the figures spoke up.
"I cannot allow a troll and four Orcs to run rampant. If I do not return to Rivendell within one week, do not mourn for me." The one called Calean said firmly.
"You cannot possibly kill a troll and a small Orc troop by yourself!" Elrohir, the eldest son of the Lord of Rivendell, Elrond, pulled the hood from his fair face. "What of your daughter? What of Rhiannon? Is she to be an orphan because of your decision?"
"No." Calean said. "Elrohir. Get a hold of yourself. I will ask Thrainduil to ride with me. In exchange, I will agree to his offer. If I should perish, take Rhiannon to Rivendell, but train her as a warrior. Allow her to accompany Rangers on their missions, much like the days past. However, when the time is right, she will wed Thrainduil's eldest, Legolas."
After a long moment of silence, Elrohir bowed his head.
"As you wish, my lord. If you do not return, I shall train and raise Rhiannon myself." He said somberly.
Calean nodded slightly, then nudged his horse off towards a thick patch of woods. Danger thickened in the air as the Elven-lord rode deeper, faster through the trees. Finally, his steed burst into a clearing where several Elves stood.
"Lord Thrainduil? Where is he?" Calean demanded.
"Less than a league north. With young Legolas." One of the Elves responded.
Calean took off through the trees once again, racing north. Soon, he came upon two more Elves, one fairly younger than the other.
"Calean, my friend-" Thrainduil, the Elven-lord of Mirkwood, began.
"Thrainduil. I accept your offer on my daughter's behalf under two conditions." Calean interrupted. "One, my daughter shall be trained as a warrior, and raised in Rivendell. By Elrohir. No other than he. Two, you must ride with me now. Arathorn was slain by a troll and four Orcs. I know I will not survive this battle, but I must have you there as my witness, and to make sure my mission is complete."
"I shall get my weapon." Thrainduil replied after a long pause.