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From Exile to Old Exile

"Where did you go?" Sam demanded as Drifter stepped out of the shadows. "What were you doing? Where's Strider?" He was ignored as the woman took a wide strip of soft cloth from her belt pouch, wet it with her own water, and dabbed Frodo's feverish forehead.

"I would do more if I could, but this wound is too deep for me to heal. If only I had not left you on that hill, this would not have happened." Frodo's eyes widened at something behind the ranger. Not bothering to look behind her, Drifter moved aside near the other hobbits as she heard Arwen's voice address the halfling.

"Frodo…Im Arwen. Telin le thaed. Lasto beth nîn. Tolo dan na ngalad. (I am Arwen. I have come to help you. Hear my voice. Come back to the light.)"

"Who is she?" Merry asked in awe as the elf bent down to Frodo.

"She's an elf," Sam stated.

"He's fading!" Arwen was saying. "He's not going to last. We must get him to my father. I've been looking for you for two days. There are five wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know."

Drifter was petting Asfaloth, Arwen's horse, while Strider set Frodo on the steed and insisted to the elf,

"Dartho guin perian. Rych le ad tolthathon. (Stay with the Hobbits. I will send horses back for you.)"

"Hon mabathon. Rochon ellint im, (I'm the faster rider. I'll take him)" Arwen replied.

"Andelu i ven, (The road is too dangerous)" the ranger argued.

"Frodo fîr. Ae athradon i hir, tur gwaith nin beriatha hon. (Frodo's dying. If I can get across the river, the power of my people will protect him) I do not fear them."

"Be iest lîn. (As you wish) Arwen, ride hard. Don't look back."

Arwen mounted behind Frodo, urging her horse,

"Noro lim, Asfaloth, noro lim! (Ride fast, Asfaloth, ride fast)"

"What are you doing?!" Sam yelled as Arwen disappeared into the trees. "Those wraiths are still out there!"

"Strider," Drifter whispered, "we should rest for a little while before the trek to Rivendell."

Nodding, Aragorn continued staring into the underbrush while the hobbits glumly set up camp.

"They will make it," she went on. "I know Arwen well enough to be confident in that."

--

After the sun was well over the horizon, it was Drifter who led and urged the group on. No one complained, however, since they all were worried sick for Frodo's fate. They, in fact, made such good time that they were in view of Rivendell by the next evening. The elves along the roadside cheerfully greeted Strider and the hobbits, instantly taking them to their rooms inside the city with great courtesy; however, Drifter was left to bring their pony to the stable herself, though she did not mind. Silently brushing the small, faithful steed, she whispered to him,

"You have done your duty well, Bill."

As she was giving the pony a sugar-cube, Arwen suddenly said from behind her,

"I thought I would find you here. It was one of your favorite places in the days you called Imladris home."

Not even bothering to turn from her work to face the princess, the ranger replied,

"Those days are over, Arwen. I left in disgrace, and I know that there is no way for me to gain it back."

"You did not leave in disgrace, Lyn. There are people here who still respect you."

"Who?"

Approaching the rugged woman, the elf responded,

"Me, my father. That is all that matters."

Smiling to herself and pausing in her work, Drifter corrected,

"I had love. A love I buried so deep inside myself these past years to protect it that I only half remembered why I rejected the men who wooed me." When Arwen looked slightly confused, she went on. "We kept it secret, for fear that others would shun him. He is an elf, so I know that he would never forget me or love another. It makes me feel ashamed that I nearly forgot. Of course, I couldn't have completely forgotten with this." With the last sentence, she lifted a long, thin cord around her neck from under her traveling dress. Attached to it were two rings. The one she was holding was a simple, twisting band of reflective silver which looked plain at first, but instantly confused the eyes as to its pattern if studied too hard. The other one hanging idly on the cord was of a somewhat dull metal. The only interesting feature of it was the mark of Rohan. "We were engaged," she finished before once again hiding the rings.

"How did you come by a ring of Rohan?" Arwen asked, her interest peaking.

"A simple trinket from my travels," was the reply.

"You made it all the way to Rohan?"

"You forget, Evenstar, I had plenty of time on my hands."

"Of course. Now, since the other elves found you unworthy to be brought to a room, I can take you to your old place on the outskirts of the city," the elf suggested.

"It is still there?" Drifter queried, her sad eyes regaining a bit of long-lost spark.

"Yes. In fact, I even kept it maintained, for the most part, in hopes that you would return," the princess answered, leading the ranger out of the stable and to the outskirts of the city.

It was a small and simple dwelling on the opposite side of the river as the rest of the elven base, just as the girl remembered as she stepped through the carved doorway, although the simplicity did not, in any way, eliminate the glamour of Rivendell.

"It's just as I remember," Drifter said as she fingered the intricate bedpost.

"I should return to my father. You should know that there is to be a gathering in a few days to discuss the fate of the Ring. You're invited. Representatives from all over Middle-Earth will be there, so a feast will be held in their honor the night before. Even you know to wear a dress."

"Of course, Arwen," Drifter replied as the elf stepped out. "I am not as reluctant to wear decent dresses as you may think."

The girl welcomed the silence that followed. After years of reclusiveness, she had suddenly been thrown back into the city which haunted her memories. She shivered while looking at the chair next to the desk across the room.

The young woman sat on her cushioned bed looking at the ring on her finger. Her love had just proposed a week ago. Unfortunately, he would be leaving to return to his home in two days. It would be then that she would have to make the choice of whether to stay in the sanctuary of Rivendell and wait for him to return in several years or go with him in hopes that his father would approve of their love. Standing and smoothly walking to a window, she looked out at the full moon and closed her eyes. The sound of the nearby waterfall always calmed her nerves. A moment later, she caught sight of a letter sitting on her desk and recognized her fiancé's handwriting. Carefully unfolding the paper she read: "My love, Please meet me on the bridge where we met at midnight. Your enemies here are beginning to stir. It is not safe for you anymore. If you returned with me to my home, I could protect you…" Her reading was cut off as someone burst in her door. Standing from her seat, she addressed the intruder.

"Anira, I should have expected you, however, you are not welcome here."

A quiet laugh was the answer as four more figures appeared behind the first. Instead of panicking, the woman calmly continued,

"Are you afraid that you won't be able to handle me yourself, Anira? Even for your cautious nature, all of Elrond's advisors? You surprise me."

"You are undeserving, human," the leading elf hissed. "It is unthinkable for a human without even any nobility to be in love with one of our own, who has the potential to become an amazing leader, beyond any existing today. You would only be a distraction for him."

"What do you want?"

"We want you out of Rivendell and away from elves in general," another elf demanded.

"And what will you do if I refuse?"

"There are ways," Anira threatened. "Being Lord Elrond's advisors, we can always have you officially banished."

"Will you allow me time to pack a few essentials?" the only human in the room queried with a slight smile. All she got for a reply was five deadly stares. "Two minutes," she stated, fetching her mended ranger dress from the closet, as well as her cloak, boots, and other necessities. A minute later, she was back in her familiar ranger garb and reaching for her weapons, a sword, a bow, with a quiver full of arrows, and five daggers, but her enemies stopped her.

"Do you think that we would be that foolish?" Anira asked, grabbing the weapons out of the woman's reach. In response, she ran towards the back door, only to be grabbed by one of the male elves. Punching and kicking were her only options for escaping the strong arms holding her. That and grabbing her desk chair for the purpose of successfully knocking the elf unconscious. Although she achieved that goal, the others were instantly upon her.

Ten minutes later, the woman was shoved outside the south gate, her weapons soon tossed after her.

"Lye dagnir, nîn mela. (Our bane, my love)"

"Hello?" a female voice called from inside, followed by a young elf-maiden with dark brown hair and chocolate eyes stepping through the back doorway. "Lyn? Is it really you?"

Drifter suddenly became aware that she had wandered into her old training area, a closed in yard accessible through the cabin's back door.

"It is I, Miluiel," the woman answered her old friend before the maiden tackled her with a rather unelf-like hug.

"I knew that you would return! Arwen and Lord Elrond were the only ones who believed me!"

Gently returning the embrace, the ranger replied,

"I am here, dear friend, but I'm not planning on staying for long. You, Arwen, and Elrond may be the only ones who would not throw me out at a moment's notice, although I can think of a few people who won't anymore." The last sentence was emphasized by an almost cruel grin that instantly disappeared.

"Well, there's Gandalf the Grey. He's here, you know."

"Gandalf is here?!" Drifter questioned, relief sweeping through her.

"Yes, didn't you know that?"

"Come inside, Miluiel. You and I have much to catch up on."

Throughout the next hour, she learned from her friend that the advisors had gone missing some years before on their way to Lorien after being banished by Elrond for throwing Drifter out behind his back and that Miluiel was engaged to an elf that she was madly in love with, but annoyed the ranger by not revealing who he was. Apparently, he would be coming with the Mirkwood party for the Council. Drifter collapsed on her bed directly after the elf left.

-Elrond was not responsible for my leaving here. I thought he wouldn't do that. Who could Miluiel's fiancé be? Well, I suppose I'll see in a couple of days-

By the time Drifter awoke, it was already dark outside. She loved nighttime in Rivendell. Even though elves did not sleep, they usually went indoors at night to give anyone who wanted to walk without disturbance a chance to do so. After enjoying a cool bath, combing her hair, and dressing in a light blue, ankle-length dress, she went outside to watch the waterfall from the bridge.

(Wow, I stayed on Drifter's p.o.v. for a long time! Time to switch! Gandalf)

Gandalf stepped out of Frodo's room, exhausted. Elrond was still trying to heal the poor hobbit's wound from the Nazgul. It had been a full day, and yet, Frodo was still on the verge of darkness.

As the wizard leaned against the railing, a woman caught his eye. She was standing on the bridge near the waterfall. Though she was not facing him, he could see that she was wearing a light blue, elvish gown, and her voluminous, light brown hair was fluttering in the breeze. Not only that, but she looked like an acquaintance of his. Walking down the stairs and to the bridge, Gandalf approached her. She was somewhat short, especially compared to his massive height, hardly over five feet. As she turned her sapphire eyes to him, he easily recognized her.

"Gandalf!" she softly exclaimed, slightly smiling.

"Hello, dear girl! So, you got my letter. I was afraid that that rascal messenger would simply dally and then forget it."

"You never did trust those runners, Gandalf, and you haven't changed," Drifter said, motioning to a nearby bench.

Seating himself next to the pretty young woman, the old wizard continued the conversation, eager to talk with his dear friend.

"And how have you been fairing, since…it happened?"

"You mean my being thrown out of the place I called home for so long?"

"No, I am talking a little more long term."

"…It's difficult having that much responsibility thrown at you all in one day."

"I understand…Now, onto to lighter talk. Did you find a little romance during your travels?"

"Gandalf!" the woman exclaimed as she quickly stood. "You know better than almost anyone that I had love before I left…and I still do!"

"But child, you think that he…"

"An elf can only love once!" the ranger interrupted. "…and…and they never forget! Out of all the things in the world, I know that he wouldn't forget…" Her legs wouldn't hold her any more, so she sat back down on the seat, staring at the palms of her hands. Gandalf tried to say something further, but she cut in again.

"No, Gandalf. Do not even think of it further. He loves me. He loves me and he waited for me. He'll come with the Mirkwood party and I'll be waiting."

The wizard paused, before changing the subject a bit.

"So you heard about the Council in a couple of days? Frodo should be up and about by then."

"That reminds me, how is Frodo?"

"Not very well, but Lord Elrond should have him up and about by tomorrow night."

Silence reigned until midnight, when Drifter broke the silence. With softness unlike a ranger, she stated,

"I'm late."

Gandalf, who had taken his pipe out and was making smoke rings, queried,

"Hmm?"

"All those years ago, the night I was banished…I was about to come meet him here, our favorite spot, the place we met."

"Dear girl," Gandalf began, chuckling past his pipe, "you have changed. Ah, the things you must have seen to become this serious. It used to be you could have passed for an elf without a care in the world, and now look at you: a regular shield-maiden, or, in this case, sword-maiden."

They both began laughing for almost no reason.

"Oh, Gandalf…all the things that have happened…I can't believe your hair still has any color left."

--

For most of the next day, Drifter trained in her small practice field. By early afternoon, she was so absorbed in the strokes of her sword, that she did not notice the dark-haired hobbit standing in the doorway of her house. Stopping to get a drink of water from her travel canteen hanging on the fence, she heard clapping. Whirling around, she saw Frodo smiling at her.

"I have never seen anything like that before!" he exclaimed.

-How did he know where I was? Oh, Elrond or Gandalf probably told him-

"Frodo!" Drifter called, running to the halfling and embracing him. "I am so glad to see that you're alright. Everyone was worried sick about you."

"I noticed," Frodo commented. "I came here because I never had the chance to thank you."

"You have nothing to thank me for, ring-bearer. I was simply doing my duty, what any ranger would do."

"Hmm, anyway, your sword-fighting abilities are remarkable."

"You should see the elves when they practice. I can barely keep up in a duel. Actually, I did win once, a long time ago."

After a moment of quiet, Frodo spoke up.

"Well, I should go before Sam sends out a search."

"Farewell, small one."

The girl was once again alone.

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