Author's Note: Again, I don't own any character. Except for Rinfeaiel. Tolkien owns Elrond, and Curunir, and Mithrandir. And the places. The other characters are owned by other friends. All hail Tolkien for his wonderful creation. Please, Read and Review. Love to hear comments.

Findêcano stepped between Bifur and Rinfeaiel before the dwarf could do anything, an icy look in his eyes. 'There is no need for fighting. All have been invited by Master Elrond and Mithrandir. There should be no enmity between us. It is enough to have an outside threat looming as a cloud.'

Fenerien stood up as well, lightly puffing away on his pipe. 'Well, Bifur,' he said calmly. 'What is it you plan to do after killing us?'

The dwarf said nothing but returned to his seat with a melancholy glower. Fenerien then turned to Curunir, an inscrutable look on his face.

'It would be unwise, Curunir, to dismiss this matter as nothing of importance. None of us, not even you, know who this being is. We merely know that his power is greater than that of any seen since Sauron himself. It could be that this is Sauron, returned with greater strength than first Mithrandir came to Dol Guldur.'

Rinfeaiel, meanwhile, gave Bifur a look that would shrivel a lesser creature. 'Have you forgotten the age of old, Master Dwarf?' she began. 'When your people and mine were friends? When those who dwelt in Khazad-Dûm were not enemies with those who dwelt in Lothlorien? Know you not the writing on the doors to Moria?'

Elrond silenced her with a look as Mithrandir rose and motioned for the Elf and Dwarf to sit down. Rinfeaiel did so willingly, albeit sending a look of smug fury toward the dwarf.

'There is to be no fighting. You were called here to prevent a war, not to start one. Do you wish to bring about our undoing sooner by this petty bickering? It will not be tolerated. Master Bifur, the lady does not know you as I do. She may not trust you, but I have no fears as to that being remedied with time. Lady Rinfeaiel, I trust you will not bring dishonour to the Council by provoking anymore outbursts. Bifur, I do not worry that you will be able to sit back and contain yourself for the rest of the Council.'

'You overstep your bounds, Mithrandir,' objected Curunir. 'Let them fight it out if they wish. We have more important matters to attend to, it matters not if the Elves and Dwarves wish to battle each other over selfish pursuits and trivial inconveniences.'

Elrond sighed and motioned for everyone to be quiet. 'Master Bifur, no one is making you go. You may decline if you wish. And no one will think the worse of you.' He gave a pointed glance around those seated. The party will leave tomorrow. I will leave you to prepare for your journey.'

Bifur rose again. 'Not so fast, Elf! If there are Elves going, then I'm going too. Someone has to look out for the interests of the Dwarves.'

The Half-Elf smiled and nodded a dismissal. Each left, going his or her own way, doing what preparations were needed for their departure tomorrow.

As Rinfeaiel returned to her room, her thoughts strayed to her home. She loved Lothlorien more than any other place in Middle-Earth...there she was free. She was young, untouched by sorrow, and loved to ride and walk amongst the golden mellyrn. The Elf thought to herself of her niece, and her sisters, her parents, Elenedhel—the Elf whom she had been friends with all her life—and how she could have stayed. It was these thoughts that sped her to the library.

There she knocked, and hearing no answer, opened the door and entered, gazing around at shelf after shelf of books. She called softly to Fenerien, but received no response. Suddenly she felt a hand lightly tap her shoulder, and she spun with a slight gasp of surprise. There was Fenerien, laughing.

'You like to sneak up like that, do you not?' she asked in an accusatory tone, but her eyes were dancing.

Fenerien smiled and bowed slightly. 'I have it down to an art form, milady. But now, what brings you here?'

The girl sobered and grew quiet. 'I came to speak with you, actually.'

'What about?' asked Fenerien, looking completely unsurprised. As usual.

'It's... I don't know if I should go...' Rinfeaiel began nervously. 'I fear I might endanger the quest if I go. The Dwarf and I are not on the best of terms, and I worry that we might not get along well enough. I thought you might have some advice for me.'

Fenerien paused for a moment, and then answered. 'The choice is yours, as to whether you go. Worry not about the Dwarf. Dwarves are not evil folk; I myself had Dwarven friends in ages long past. Be a friend. And if you fail, you fail. Life will continue. Do not worry about what happens on this journey. In my opinion you would be a great asset to our company. Yet the decision is yours, and my opinion of you shall not be affected, for good or for ill.'

He smiled gently at her, and blew another smoke ring from his pipe. Rinfeaiel thanked him and left to continue packing. His continual smoking set him apart from the other Elves, and Curunir looked down on Fenerien and Mithrandir for their pursuit of a human practice. Rinfeaiel merely found it fascinating.

The next morning the group mounted their horses as dawn broke across the sky, waiting for Mithrandir to lead them toward Mirkwood. Rinfeaiel noticed a man near Fenerien, she presumed him to be Talegin, but she knew not anymore about him. At last Elrond bid them farewell, and they set forth along the road.

For the first few days they did not hurry, kept their pace leisurely, yet also keeping out a watchful eye. Not one was interested in meeting this foe any sooner than they would have to do. Rinfeaiel fingered her bow as she road, glad to once more feel the familiar weight of her quiver strung along her back.

On the fourth day things took a turn for the worse. Including the weather. Unlike the warm sunshine that had bathed them previously, they were now faced with a torrent of rain. It came down so heavily that their horses were struggling to find footing in the mud. Mithrandir soon decided to stop, and as a fire could not be kept going, they searched for a small cave in which to stay until the storm passed.

Once in the cave, Bifur busied himself with making a fire. The others lay out their cloaks and mats to dry. The others, that is, save Fenerien and Mithrandir. Those two stood by the entrance and gazed out at the rain in whispered conference. Rinfeaiel watched carefully, yearning to hear what they were saying to the other...and her heart grew cold within her.