SUMMERY - To the Elves she was Relomore, daughter of night, and the outcast. Legends of men knew her as The Shadow. Nearly one thousand years have passed since last she walked in the sight of either race. But what is long lost may one day wake again from sleep.

WARNINGS - Violence in later chapters

DISCLAIMER - I do not own LOTR or any of its characters. All rights belong to Tolkien, New Line Cinemas, ect. I receive no money for my writing, it is merely for entertainment.

A/N In the last chapter the marks I used to set off the parts before and after the chapter were deleted. So that little part at the end that doesn't make any sense belongs by itself. If you still can't understand than contact me or something.

- The cavern smells of blood and sickness; of pain and human sweat. The fresh air when I step outside clears my head. In the distance, the white city shines like a diamond. -

Chapter 2 - To Minis Tirith

(Legolas' PoV)

The letter is heavy in my trembling hand, as though weighed down by the sorrow inscribed within. Though I have yet to read it I can see fear and shocked pain in the messenger's eyes, in every line of his travel-weary countenance. The news must be ill indeed.

As I unfold the delicate paper I wonder if perhaps the child within Arwen has died. It is unusual for Elves to miscarry, but not impossible. Yet I think that is not the case for I, and not Faramir, am first to receive the news. Were the tidings of the king's heir surely he would know already.

Also, the letter is written in Arwen's elegant hand, the script shakier than I have ever seen it. In places the ink is spotted an smudged with tears. Fear wraps like an icy serpent around my heart, constricting as any steel.

'Oh Nienna, lady of tears, let mine not be necessary.'

Legolas,

Estel has disappeared and I fear greatly for his safety. There are many who would take great joy in my beloved's death or harm. Please, my friend, hasten to Minas Tirith. If anyone can find my Estel and return him safely to my arms you are he. Would that I could go with you. The healers will not allow it.

Hurry my friend.

"I'm leaving."

Faramir's look of confusion prompts me to lay that letter in his hand. It is all the explanation I can offer. By the time he begins to read it I am already running from the room, a bag I keep packed at all times in my hand. Within minutes I am ready to depart.

Faramir catches me just as I vault onto Culgwae's back. The young steward's eyes are frightened, and already servants are scurrying everywhere. No doubt he will receive an official letter shortly, summoning him to Minis Tirith to take on the duty of stewardship until Aragorn's return.

"The Valar speed you on your way, my friend. I know you will return our king to us."

I lean down and clasp my friend's wrist.

"I will bring Estel back to his wife and people or die trying."

Culgwae turns easily at the pressure of my leg on his side. Just as I prepare to ask more speed of him Faramir's voice reaches my ears.

"And Legolas,"

One eyebrow raised in question, I turn my body to see the human offering a hesitant smile.

"Try to come back in one piece."

Faramir brightens when I return his smile.

"I'll do my best."

As I turn to face the long road before me my face becomes grim.

"Noro lim!"

(Elrond's PoV)

My sons arrive even while my voice echoes in empty chambers. Seeing the arrow in my hand, their eyes fill with worry. Identical expressions of anxiety contort their pale faces.

"Father, where did the arrow come from?"

"Are you hurt?"

"Nay, Elrohir, I am well. But I fear Estel is not."

"Estel-"

"-In danger?"

"How?"

I place the note in their hands. As they read it fear crosses their faces. Though they are to young to have known Relomore, they have heard tales of her atrocities.

"We're going to Gondor." They speak as one. "Arwen will need us."

- The man is brave, I will allow him that. He made not a sound when I slit his arm to get the blood I needed for my messages. A pity such bravery must be wasted on a pawn. But he will be useful.

Within a month Gondor and Arnor will be mine. Oh no, I shall not be forgotten. -