The rustling outside of his window was nothing unusual, and Elrond thought nothing of it until he caught a glimpse of Arwen darting away out of the corner of his eye, something large and leafy on her back. A proper glance told him she had fashioned wings out of branches, held together with strands of ivy. He smiled at the sight; she had been asking for tales of Lúthien and Elwing at night for weeks—until he saw that she was headed for the top of a very steep hill.
Papers went flying as he sped from the room. "Arwen!"