When he woke he was staring up at a perfectly clear sky. It was so deep and so blue he felt as though he could be swallowed up at any moment. It was perfectly quiet save for the gentle rustle of the wind and the splash of water.

He felt a gentle rocking underneath him, and when he looked over he could see that they were sitting in a small boat, as the jeweled surface of the Anduin wound under them. They were a single speck of dirt, floating across the surface of a sapphire. Nellas was crouched at the helm of the boat, watching.

"Are we dead?" He asked, jokingly.

His voice was dry and hoarse. He had not used it in some time.

"You were close." She replied. "I almost didn't stop the bleeding in time."

There was a long silence. Elden could still feel the pain throbbing in his shoulder, but it was distant now, replaced by a strange fog.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Saving my life."

Nellas frowned slightly.

"Well, I almost took it when you first arrived in Imladris, so I suppose we are even."

Elden laughed, and then winced in pain.

"Let's hope I don't give you reason to regret your decision."

She had to smile. There was something about the idleness with which Elden jested about death that thrilled her. Stiffly, Elden pushed himself upright, leaning his back against the hard wooden lip of the boat. He rummaged around inside his pack, the interior of which was surprisingly dry considering how thoroughly the great river had soaked them. His clothes were only now beginning to dry off. He withdrew a well-creased map and stared at the Anduin, and then at the banks drifting past them. It was impossible to tell exactly how far along they were without more distinctive landmarks.

"How is your arm?" Nellas inquired.

"It feels very strange. I can barely move it."

"That is to be expected." She replied. "I did not have a needle and thread, so I was forced to rely on my own healing abilities to close the wound, which I am ashamed to say I have neglected in favor of... more practical skills."

"Like lighting everything on fire?" Elden said.

"Like lighting everything on fire." She confirmed with a wry smile. "You would have done the same thing if you could perform... what did you call it?"

"Magic." He said.

"Magic..." Nellas repeated, rolling the word around on her tongue. "What a funny thing to call it."

Elden shrugged.

"I didn't invent it."

Up ahead the river curved sharply, forming a large letter C that returned to its original course a few hundred yards later. Nellas grasped a long, muddy stick that had been sitting behind her and used it to push the boat onto a new trajectory, although the swift-moving current did most of the work.

"Do you know where we are?"

"Not for certain." Elden said. "Once we pass the Old Ford I will be able to see how quickly we are making progress."

"The river is taking on the melt water early this year. We should reach Lorien before the day is out." Nellas said.

A massive shadow fell over the both of them, and they looked up in wonder to behold the largest bird either of them had ever seen. It wheeled left, following the bend of the river, and as they duplicated it's path a moment later, they saw the river split and gave way to both sides of a massive granite outcrop. To one side of it there were stones placed at regular intervals, not wide enough for a boat to pass through.

"Carrock..." Nellas mused, staring up at the rock, her oar forgotten.

"Left!" Elden cried, but Nellas was already in action.

He looked back as they whizzed past, entering an area of faster current. He could see several eagles perched in the sun, as well as a brown shape that looked an awful lot like a bear. They were really moving now, winging along, powering effortlessly through the curves. The trees on either side began to grow in size and number until they were crowding around the bank.

They were gaining even more speed, and the river began to grow shallower. As the current leaped and foamed, their boat wobbled dangerously.

"I can't steer it anymore, the current is too strong!" Nellas said over the noise.

"Give it here!" Elden replied, holding out a hand for the stick.

She gave it to him, and instead of trying to push off of the bottom of the river he held it in the water trailing behind the boat, using it as a makeshift rudder. Any minute now... any minute they would strike a barely submerged rock, or rub the tide the wrong way and flip over, he knew it. And as he stared down at the rushing water, he knew that this time the river might not be so forgiving. Yet minute after minute crawled by, and they did not. He shouted to Nellas and she came and switched places with him, allowing him to give his tired arm a break. The other one was almost completely limp now, although it still had feeling. It was starting to worry him, and the pain was coming back, harder and faster as Nellas's cures subsided. The trees zoomed by, and suddenly there was a break, and the river grew even shallower. As they passed through the Old Ford, Elden got a brief glimpse of the road, which was empty except for a single train of oxen far off in the distance. Then this view was snatched away as quickly as it had come.

Gradually, the pace of the river grew slower. Nellas's iron grip kept them steady, and on the right course. His mind was pulled back to the wound, and he clutched at his shoulder in vain, as though he could massage the stabbing ache away.

"Don't touch the bandages!" Nellas said, and Elden recoiled.

"Sorry..."

"Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Both of us have, don't you remember?" Elden said, attempting to crack a joke to draw attention away from his pain.

It was no use. The agony was clear in his voice.

"I meant you look pale. Here, drink the rest of this." She said, taking one hand from the rudder stick and rummaging in her pack. She produced the sickly green bottle and slid it across the bottom of the boat, which was slick with water. Both of them were soaked again from the splashing. He snatched it up, pulled the cork loose and downed the thing in one, desperate for relief.

The medicine settled over him in waves, lulling him into an uncomfortable waking dream. Everything seemed to be moving more slowly, and yet more quickly at the same time. Around them, the undergrowth on the banks grew thicker, and the space behind the trees, darker. Everything was expanding and contracting gently, as if the fabric of the world was breathing. Nellas's words echoed as though they were still standing in the cavernous halls at Fornost.

"The Gladden Fields are close. We are not far from Lorien now. You only need to hold on a little longer."

He didn't know what was in Lorien that concerned them, but whatever it was, it was better than the place they were currently in. On either side, the river grew choked with reeds. Thick clouds of flies buzzed angrily, and little creeks stole water from the stream to feed their own private, mushy domains, green with pond scum. Only the center current still moved quickly. It was bordered by dark waters which moved only gently. Then the trees fell away, and they were alone in the marsh.

The river's course grew circumspect once again, winding this and that. All sorts of false paths offered themselves up, breaks in the reeds which looked suspiciously like the right way, but were in fact only pools of that dark water. There was something menacing about it, and he lay down in the boat and averted his gaze, trying to pretend it didn't exist. Afternoon was wearing on into sunset, and he got the distinct impression that this was a place they wanted to be well clear of by nightfall. The moon had arrived early, and stared down at them sullenly.

In the stillness, the rings whispered to one another.

Yaresse, i melko fuume sinome...

I qualin er enyala i atalkorma.

If Nellas heard this, she said nothing.

Many leagues down stream, another pair of good friends watched the sun set over Gondor. Victory had quickly returned the city to it's former glory, and the news had brought a flood of new arrivals from all corners of the realm and places far beyond where refugees had hoped to escape what had seemed like an imminent conquest for the dark lord. There had been so many that lodging in the city had quickly become exhausted, and those wishing to make their fortunes in the new epicenter of Middle Earth were obliged to create unsightly shanty towns that stretched in a wide arc along the roads leading into Gondor. Osgiliath had also been repopulated, although it was still little more than a ruin, it had become a trading hub of sorts, a second Gondor within arms reach of the first. The victory had not brought peace, however, and although this was not exactly a surprising thing to Legolas, who had been alive to witness plenty of kings rise and fall, it still weighed on his mind. The end of one war had brought the start of another, a campaign that could only be described as revenge. He had not mentioned this to Aragorn and did not plan to. He felt oddly detached from the whole thing, knowing that soon he would be on a boat to a far green country. What happened after his chapter in history would be for others to decide.

Gimli had been uncharacteristically quiet the whole day.

"Something on your mind, old friend?"

"That there is." the dwarf said. "Last night I was present at the steward's council, and I heard... troubling things."

"Such as?"

"Talk of new kingdoms. Talk of conquest. Talk of empire. Not idle talk, either. These humans worry me greatly, Legolas. I fear we have defeated a great evil only to allow a lesser one to grow in it's place."

Legolas nodded.

"I too have heard of these plans, and I too think they are ill-advised, but I have great faith in Aragorn's ability to keep the baser instincts of men in check, and I urge you to do the same. I suspect this boasting and braggadocio will fall silent upon his return. His authority is unquestionable."

"Aye, but is he incorruptible? I wonder..."

"He was the only mortal man I saw who ever turned down a chance to take possession of the ring. If there is any who can guide these people to a better tomorrow, it is him."

"I suppose you are right, as usual." Gimli said, with a sigh.

He got to his feet, an action which only changed his height by about six inches.

"Our presence has been requested in Edoras. There is a feast the week after next, and the King of the Mark has designated us the guests of honor."

"Yes, I saw the letter." Legolas said, stretching his slender frame like a cat just waking from a long nap.

"I know you plan to leave tonight and arrive early, but I wish to stay in Gondor a while longer."

"What for?"

"Certainly not the food." Legolas said, with a wry smile. "I... had a dream last night. It told me that I would meet someone if I staid another three days."

"I see." said Gimli in a skeptical tone. "Well, I suppose I will meet you there then. So long."

As he left the balcony of the elven embassy, Legolas could hear him grumbling about "elves and their blasted premonitions..."

He smiled again, to himself. He wondered how Gimli would have taken the news if he had told him the whole truth: that he had seen a vision of a beautiful elven maiden arriving at Gondor alone, weary from travel and looking lost. Gimli probably would have roared with laughter and clapped him on the back, but for some reason Legolas had concealed the whole truth. The dream had been incredibly real, one of those rare moments of clarity that only comes outside the realm of waking thought. It would be foolish to discount it.

When Elden woke again, it was in a pool of cold sweat. His whole body felt numb, and while it was better than pain, it was not encouraging. He still could not move his arm, but the rest of himself was fine. He sat upright and looked around. The light of the moon beamed down at them between the branches, and massive roots sipped at the water on either side.

This forest was not like the others. The trees were not of any kind Elden had ever seen, neither oak nor pine nor birch nor fur. That funny feeling was on him again, the feeling that the whole world was not quite real, and that it really didn't matter one way or another. He thought he could hear a faint music, somewhere on the edge of hearing, but it wasn't loud enough to determine whether it was real or just a figment of his fevered imaginings.

"What are they?" he asked softly, his head spinning.

Nellas looked around, as if surprised that he was conscious.

"The Mellyrn. Mallorn trees. We are in Lothlórien."

"I'm awake, but... It feels like I'm still dreaming."

"I had to try something more radical to keep the wound under control. I think that arrow head was poisoned."

"That would make sense." Elden said.

Then he laughed strangely at his own monotone agreement. Was he so far past caring that being poisoned struck him as amusing? Perhaps. Then again, it could be Nellas's potion.

He sat in silence for some time, watching the trees go by. It was an incredibly beautiful forest, but there was something foreboding about it too. In between the branches he could see dark causeways lit only by moonlight. Connections arced between the trees, and here and there there were doors and windowsills and balconies. Though the music was getting clearer as the current bore them onward, not a soul could be seen to stir. There were no torches lit. Nobody was waiting for them.

And then he glanced over at the other bank, and saw something.

A pale elven woman, just as beautiful as Nellas but obviously much older. She was dressed in white and she had him fixed with that piercing stare that only elves can give. On her finger was a tiny chunk of starlight that gleamed brightly. Then she turned, and was gone.

It happened so quickly that a few minutes later, he wasn't sure if he had actually seen it.

"Where are we going?" Elden asked, at length.

"To Caras Galadhon, the Naith of the forest. If there is help to be found, we will find it there."

The night was unseasonably warm, but Elden still felt terribly cold even with his cloak wrapped about him. The wood was getting thicker as they progressed, just as before, but now the trees were growing grander and taller as well. Nellas used the stick to push the boat over to bank of the river, and tied it off to a large tree root. As Elden disembarked, the feeling of foreboding was joined by something else: awe.

As he stared up into the sky his night eyes could see that it stretched up an incredible distance, seeming to brush up against the stars themselves, what few could be seen through the thick canopy. Although it was only partway into the first month of spring, all of the leaves were tinted a rich, golden yellow. Some of them had fallen to earth, but most were still attached, clinging to their mother even as the mother grew weaker.

Elden shook his head like a dog trying to dislodge a troublesome fly.

Perhaps it was just Nellas's magic making him strange, but he thought he could almost feel the forest breathing. It was slow, weary breathing. A creature still awake after a hard day's work, anticipating rest. The ring seemed to have grown a littler warmer as it lay against his chest. He walked on in a dream, blindly following Nellas as they plunged deeper into the undergrowth. It looked like there used to be well worn pathways where they were walking, but grass and ferns had been allowed to sprout and stretch outwards, in some places completely obscuring the way. The horn of his boot caught on something and without his left arm to steady himself he went crashing to the ground.

Nellas turned and helped him up.

"Come on, just a little further."

Some of the trees had doors in them. Some had pathways spanning between their upper reaches, places where people had lived, loved, and reveled, and did so no more. Many of these appendages seemed to have been rejected by the trees. Here and there a door lay flat on it's face, forcibly ejected as it's doorway closed up.

"The elves sang to these trees, and their songs twisted the bark and branches to their will." Nellas explained, anticipating his question. "Now that the song has stopped, the trees will go back to their natural state."

"It doesn't sound like it's stopped..." Elden said, rubbing his ear.

"What you are hearing is the closing act of a great symphony. I only wish you could have heard it at its peak."

They passed through a gap between two massive trunks, and there stood the largest tree Elden had ever seen. It's branches blossomed outwards like a mushroom, and here all the doors and pathways were still very much attached.

Something in the upper branches was glowing. It was a warm light, green and yellow, the color of sunlight filtering through a thick canopy in the dog days of summer. Now, though, the effect was not comforting, but eerie. The light shifted, throwing strange, twisting shadows onto the forest floor as they walked. The two of them ascended a sharply spiraling staircase that led them upwards. Just as Elden's legs were screaming that they could go no further, they arrived on the landing.

It was a wide wooden veranda with many chairs growing out of it, and when he looked he realized he could see out over the entire forest. Even this impressive sight was obscured, however, by the source of the glow. It looked like a bundle of sticks and branches tightly clustered. It hovered a few feet above the center of the veranda, turning slowly. The ring was now almost painfully hot, and he reluctantly removed it from it's chain and placed it in his pocket.

"What... is that?" He asked, pointing at the object.

"I'm not sure." Nellas replied. "But I have a theory. Let me do the talking."

"The talking?" Elden said, suddenly feeling ill at ease.

It was too late to object. Nellas stepped forward, reached out a solitary finger, and placed it against the shell of energy that surrounded the creature. At her touch it instantly began to change, turning a bright red and vanishing. The branches began to unfold, and a moment later a figure that looked remarkably like a man made of trees appeared. It turned first to regard Elden, and he saw that the fierce green light was in it's eyes. Suddenly he was completely paralyzed, unable to move a muscle. The singing that had thus far remained on the edge of hearing now surged to the fore, and the words changed. He could not understand what they said, but they were not friendly.

Into this otherworldly cacophony, Nellas's voice interjected itself.

"Please, that won't be necessary. He is a friend."

At once the singing ceased. Not entirely, but it resumed its placed in the background, alongside the rustle of branches and the hiss of the wind as it pushed its way through the trees.

"It has been many years since we heard the tongue of men spoken here, Nellas, forest-child. It has been even longer since we heard an elf speak it."

"Times have changed." Nellas said. "You know my name?"

"We know all the names." The creature said. "Every one that has traveled beneath these boughs, and many more besides. Tell us, what brings you here, in the twilight of Lothlorien? Indeed, as you say, times have changed. We hope you did not expect to find old friends. Most of them are long gone."

"No, I did not expect to find friends, but I did expect to find help."

"Then your wish may yet be granted. Tell me what it is you desire, and we will see if it can be so."

"My friend is hurt badly, and my skills are not enough to heal it permanently."

Elden tried not to recoil as the creature reached out a gnarled hand and grasped his shoulder. It's touch was delicate, but he could feel an incredible strength driving those fingers.

"What are you?" Elden asked.

"You... I..." The creature mused as it palpitated the wound, examining it from this angle and that. "Strange words indeed. You humans would call me a Spriggan, I believe, but what "I" am is not important. What matters is what we are."

"So... who is 'we'?" Elden asked again.

Before the Spriggan could reply, Nellas answered for it.

"A creature wrought out of the living forest. A sort of guardian, if I am not mistaken."

"Correct, forest-child." The Spriggan rumbled. "There were those that did not wish to make the journey, and so they chose to dwell within me instead, so that they could devote what little power they had left to maintaining the forest. I do not speak for myself, I speak for them."

The Spriggan removed its hand and allowed Elden to pull the edge of his tunic back over his shoulder.

"We are afraid the wound is poisoned. It is a crude toxin, dried adder venom, but it has done its work. The muscle is severely damaged. In our current state, we cannot help you."

"What?!" Elden said, somewhat disbelievingly.

"If you would let us finish," the Spriggan said, a hint of an edge creeping into it's voice which instantly humbled Elden, "you would hear us say that while WE cannot help you directly, Nellas can."

"How?" Nellas said, surprised. "My healing powers are mediocre at best."

"Yes, we know child, you always were more apt at breaking things than at fixing them. However, we can act through you. We can give you the strength you need to help your friend. First, though, you must relinquish your rings."

This statement seemed to have a sharp edge to it that cut through the fog.

"No." Elden said, instinctively.

"No?" The spriggan said, examining him with a single, glowing eye. "No!? You would rather die than give up that ring for but a moment? We are truly baffled by your species, human. Your minds turn in strange circles."

"I am sorry if I appear insolent, but I've lost this ring once before and it caused me much pain and grief to find again. I will not let it out of my sight again." He replied firmly.

"That may be, but as long as you carry it, you are a ring-bearer, and that means that you are beyond even our help. Besides, we do not mean to keep it. It need not leave your gaze."

Reluctantly, Elden placed a hand in his pocket and withdrew the ring. The spriggan held out a knotted palm, but he paused. The ring dangled from it's chain like a pendulum, uncharacteristically heavy. Nellas watched his eyes follow it hypnotically, and then, with an effort, he let it slide from his palm. Nellas slid hers from her finger as well, with rather less effort, although there was still a twinge of unease as it left her hand.

The spriggan took the rings and placed them both on the throne-like chair that sat in the epicenter of the dais.

"Lie down now, human." The spriggan said, indicating the flat area in front of the throne.

Although he wasn't particularly enthusiastic about letting either the creature or the rings leave his field of vision, he did as he was told. The wood was cool, and felt good against his hot and aching head, and his wound. Nellas knelt at his side, and the spriggan placed it's hand on her shoulder. The glow of sunlight that beamed inside the creature's interior pulsed, and Nellas grew slightly rigid, and then relaxed. When she opened her eyes again, they were glowing with that same otherworldly color.

"Nellas!" Elden said, beginning to get up.

"Be still, human." Said Nellas and the spriggan in unison, an eerie chorus of voices. "She is safe in our company."

The creature placed Nellas's hand on his forehead, and in an instant, he was gone.

Flying. It was the only way he could describe the sensation. Tumbling through the endless aether, his surroundings utterly void and grey, no ground to stop his fall. He felt alone and utterly helpless against this massive tide, this power that shunted him.

A voice echoed through his mind, and although it was in a different language, somehow he could understand the meaning.

"It will be difficult to control, you must focus."

Elden felt his back tingle, and clutched at it. The fog of the potion was abating rapidly. As the strange feeling of being somewhere else lifted, layer by layer, the pain came roaring back. He felt his shoulder explode as though the arrow had just struck it again. He could almost hear that terrible thwip as the shaft embedded itself in him over and over in his mind. His eyes were shut tight, and he knew he was screaming because his mouth was open. Still, it sounded like someone else's voice. Someone desperate.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGH! MAKE IT STOP, PLEASE! PLEASE!"

Then he heard Nellas's voice, choked with tears.

"I am trying, Elden- hold on..."

"You must focus child!"

Then there was another jerk, and they were gone, flung in an utterly new direction. This direction had substance. Ground on which to stand.

Memories flashed by, hundreds of them, almost too quickly to catch. A small, diminutive boy, working alone in the shop alongside his father. Many songs. Many stories. Although there was not much food, there was love, and it was enough. As the images continued to whip through the aetherium, the boy got older. Winter thawed to spring. Crops were sown. He chopped wood, fed hogs, painted fences. His father sent him to the next county alone to work on a barn. He slept under the stars, with only a hunting knife and a walking stick to protect him and a single traveling cloak to act as his bed. Spring wore on into summer. On those nights when it was too hot and muggy to sleep, he crept out of his bed and wandered down to the creek that divided their plot of land from the next. Often the neighbor girl would be there, and she would kiss him in a way that made his brain go all fuzzy. Summer gave way to fall, and he was hard at work pulling the ripened roots from their soil. Once his share was done he took his tools and walked down the lane to work for another man whose son had died. He was not very nice, but they did not have the luxury of passing up the money. As fall began to grow colder father and son made the yearly journey down the Entwash to Gondor, where they sold their stock and returned home on the back of a passing wagon.

Soon the boy had grown into a man, and then one day, the father disappeared. He left with a company of rough men, the helmet hanging off-kilter on his tall, sloped forehead. The spear looked odd in his weathered hands, but he grasped it with the confidence of someone who has held one all his life. The young man watched them leave, and then hid himself away where no one could see him and wept. He felt weak. Alone. The pattern of seasons continued to crawl by, but the farm ceased to be tended. The neighbor girl met him at the creek no longer, as her family had moved the previous year. He kept the house in good repair, but tended no crops. At night he took company with ruffians and women of the night who dwelt in the ramshackle houses near the walls of Edoras. He drank, gambled, and cavorted throughout the town, long after the respectable people had gone to bed. Someone introduced him to pipe smoking, which he greatly enjoyed. He began to steal. Little things. A needle and thread. A pretty brass watch. A beautiful knife with an ivory handle.

Then one of the regent's men came to call one day, and brought the news that had shattered him. His father was dead.

From here the memories grew more scattered, less focused. Tears. Strong drink. Fighting. Long afternoons lying prostrate on the straw, waiting for death to come and take what so obviously belonged to it. When this did not happen, the old pattern resumed, this time with more frenzy. Again he was caught, but this time they locked him in the cell and would not let him out. He was led in shackles before the regent, who gave him the choice of prison or service under arms. Afraid and exhausted, the young man chose the latter, and when he was sent to the barracks under his own recognizance, he chose a different path and fled Edoras.

It was foolish, desperate, and impatient. He had nothing but the clothes on his back, and he did not make it far until they found him lying in a ditch, exhausted and filthy. He was beaten. This time the shackles deposited him before the Lord Regent, who turned up his nose in disgust and ordered an immediate execution. The brand of death was seared into his flesh: a grim skull that resembled the mask of Mandos. The hangman had gone home for the day, however, and could not be summoned back. He was left in the stockades in the square.

Three days passed, and each day there was a delay. Sometimes people jeered or threw things at him, but mostly he was looked at with pity, which seemed to hurt worse than the stones or the cold. At last, one frigid night, the guard fell asleep. His wrists were thin enough to slip through the wooden holes, although he had carefully concealed this fact from the watch for three days while he waited for his chance. The latch was thin and rusted, and broke easily with the right leverage from his neck. The guard was deep in slumber, and did not notice. So too was the Lord Regent, and his sleeping form failed to see a shadow stealing into his bed chamber and making off with his prized possessions: an elven short sword and a curious ring that had been found in a troll-horde to the north.

This time they did not catch him. He fled west, stopping only to steal a horse at Helm's Deep.

Not long after that, he came to a place known by the humans as "Rivendell", and there he met an elf.

When he came to, it felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Not one shoulder, but both.

In amazement he opened his eyes blearily and flexed his hand. It responded sluggishly, thick with pins and needles, but it was there. He rubbed it, eager to regain circulation. When he looked over, Nellas was sitting right next to him. Once again, he was taken aback by how completely silent she could be when she wanted to. Not even her breathing made a sound if she did not wish it to. They shared a look that spelled relief in every feature, and then embraced as though they had met one another for the first time after a long absence.

"Thank you." He breathed softly in her ear. "Looks like I owe you another favor."

"I think I know a way you can repay me..." she replied.

"Curious..." The spriggan rumbled, and they both broke apart immediately, feeling naked under it's gaze.

"There has not been a mated pair of human and elf in many years. You may be the last."

At the word "mated", Nellas blushed profusely.

"How did... how did you know?"

The spriggan laughed, and it was a pleasant, mirthful sound, filled with the echo of many voices laughing in unison.

"It could hardly be more obvious, my child. The bonds between you and he shine clearer than the sun itself."

They exchanged a glance and Elden had to suppress a guilty laugh.

"I suppose we didn't make a great effort to hide it." Nellas said.

"Nor should you. Love is meant to be shared. Now, we must go out into the forest, for a great change is about to occur, and we must consult with the creatures of the wood that remain, as it concerns all of them. We would ask that you sleep here tonight, as we have more to say to you come morning."

With that, the creature walked out onto the expansive balcony and jumped. There was no accompanying thud, but Elden could make out a large figure moving from branch-to-branch with a surprising speed and agility for its bulk. As soon as it was out of sight, Elden went and retrieved the rings. Nellas accepted hers without comment, but did not put it on again, as she had for the past few days. They lay out their sleeping rolls side by side, and sat in silence for a while, staring up through what Elden had earlier assumed to be the ceiling, but was in fact just a particularly thick collection of branches. It was getting late now, and the moon had passed its apex, beginning the slow descent back to earth.

"Who was the girl by the creek?"

Elden was surprised.

"You saw that?" He said.

"I saw everything."

His expression must have betrayed what he was feeling, because she quickly qualified the statement.

"I mean, not everything of course, but most of it."

"I don't know who she was. I don't even remember her name. I just came down one night and there she was."

"It's none of my business." Nellas said.

"You're right, it isn't." Elden said, smiling. "But I don't mind telling you."

There was another long silence. They were both looking at each other, but their gaze was unfocused, each thinking of what the future held for them. Where would they go from here?

"If Gondor turns out to be suitable I would like to settle down there. Start a new life."

Elden's heart skipped a beat.

"Does that mean you... you want us to be bonded?"

Nellas raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we already were."

"No, I didn't mean that." He said, blushing slightly.

"...is that how elves get married?" He ventured, after a slight pause.

"Pretty much." Nellas replied, grinning. "Betrothal ceremonies are for royalty. How do humans get married?"

"Well, let me see..." Elden said, wracking his brains.

This was one subject he had given almost no thought to his entire life, having assumed it would never apply to him. Then again, he had never expected to meet someone like Nellas.

"I haven't been to a wedding in a long time, but I'm pretty sure the man gets down on one knee, and presents the woman with a ring. Then he asks her if he will be his wife, and if she says yes, they have a huge feast at the husband's father's house and the family meets each other."

"And what do they do afterward?" Nellas asked, coyly.

"Everyone gets very drunk and then they go home."

"No, I mean the newlyweds."

"Well, they go home and... consummate the marriage."

"They fuck like rabbits, in other words." Nellas said.

"Pretty much..." Elden replied, a little sheepishly.

"See? There you go. We've already given each other rings. I've met what's left of your family, and you've met what's left of mine. All that's left is the fucking."

It was very odd to hear Nellas speak profanity in Westron, and yet at the same time he found it oddly arousing. He moved closer to her, sliding gently tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Ever the eager one, Nellas closed the gap and met his lips. With one fluid motion, she rolled off of her sleeping roll and onto his, determined to drive all thoughts of that girl by the creek out of his mind...

Nellas opened one eye and peered around. Daylight had crept in while she was unconscious, and it had brought the spriggan with it. She could hear voices; the strange, echoing lilt of the creature and... Elden's voice.

"When we were floating down the river, I saw a woman in white with a star on her finger. Was she real?"

"It depends a great deal on what you mean by 'real', young one. What you saw was a memory that the trees have deep within them, a memory of Lady Galadriel. Whether it was 'real' or not is up to you."

The spriggan was leaning against the railing, looking out over the forest, which looked the a swaying sea of green in the early morning breeze. Elden was perched next to him, pipe alight. Although she still didn't like the smell, she hadn't seen him smoking in a while, and there was something reassuring about it, as though it was a sign that everything was back to normal.

Whatever "normal" was...

Nellas came and sat on the opposite side of the creature.

"Ah, you are awake, good. We, which is to say, the elders I contain and those that are bound to the trees, have come to a decision."

"I did not know one was required." Nellas said.

"Both of you are ring bearers. You can see and do things that others cannot. Every living thing remembers, even the grass and the insects. These memories are not lost. They do not die, but live on, stamped silently on other things, waiting for the one who can read them properly. Everything is bound up with memory. It is the transparent silk that binds our world together. These rings are no different. They have accumulated memories in the time that they were lost to history, many dark and painful. What was once merely a tool has begun to develop a despair of its own at the tasks to which it was put. Although their malevolence cannot be compared to the One Ring that was destroyed, they cannot be allowed to go forth into the world as they are."

"They already ARE in the world," Nellas countered, "and it perhaps it is arrogant of me, but I believe that they have found their rightful masters. We could bury them in a hole but they would be dug up again. We could cast them into a river, but someone would find them. No fire can destroy them now that Mount Doom has gone silent. Better that we should have them than some madman."

"You assume too much, and place too great of a store in your own abilities. There is a price for the kind of power these rings provide. Those who have seen what lies beyond grow weary of the confines of this world, as it cannot compare to those realms that lie farther out, invisible to us. Eventually they fade, just like this forest has faded. They go to the other places."

"The... other places?"

"There are many places in this world that neither foot nor boat nor cart nor steed can take you. They exist between the planes, out of thought and time."

"I thought that the rings extended your lifespan?" Elden said.

"Sauron's evil, and it's subsequent destruction sapped much of the power from the rings he had bound it to. Even Galadriel's ring, Nenya, became just a simple band. But these rings... these rings Sauron had no reckoning of, nor do any now left in Middle Earth know of them. The scholars who remember their making have all passed on to Valinor, and it is not accounted for in the history that is even now being written. When it is finished, the Red Book of Westmarch will make no mention of them. They do not even have names. Thus, while they have not been sapped by the destruction of the One Ring, they have been stained by it's dying. Their thoughts have become scrambled, primitive, and sometimes cruel. Which brings us back to the task at hand."

"Which is...?" Elden said, warily, his ring grasped tightly in his fist.

"Out of all the artifacts left in Middle Earth, those two are the most dangerous. They must be cleansed before they leave this place, and to do so will use up the remainder of our energy, causing our collective body to die. I have spoken with the others, however, and they agree that the time is right for this to happen. The old songs are slowly leaching out of this place, and we can only delay the day they are gone entirely, never stop it. Many of us tire of the earthly realm and wish to begin the next leg of our journey. Rather than waste the small remainder of our power in a futile effort, we will use it to remove the malice from these objects."

"And what if I refuse?" Elden said.

"There you would be very much mistaken, human, for I am not offering you a choice, but telling you what we have decided."

"Elden, stop arguing!" Nellas said, leaving her seat on the railing.

Elden followed suit, the ring still clasped in his left hand.

"I appreciate your offer, but frankly, I prefer this thing the way it is."

He opened his palm, no longer looking at them now, but examining the ring carefully, as though looking for scratches on a family heirloom.

"Perhaps the things it says are sometimes... troubling, but it has saved my life, and yours too Nellas."

"What are you talking about Elden?" Nellas said, a tone of worry creeping into her voice.

"The ring betrayed Ferny, I'm sure of it. I would never have seen him otherwise. Without that ring, Mrs. Bones would have killed us both." Elden said, looking up not at her, but at the spriggan. "It belongs to me. It's mine. It chose me. I will not allow it to be meddled with."

"We are disappointed to hear you say these words, but not surprised. You are not the first to say them, but hopefully, you will be the last." The spriggan said sadly, raising it's gnarled hand.

A beam of light snaked out of it's palm and engulfed Nellas. Her eyes rolled back into her head instantly, and her ankles bent as she rose a few inches off of the ground. Elden's right arm had the elven blade unsheathed in a fraction of a second, but it was still much too slow. Another beam of light arced across the gap between them, striking him squarely in his left fist, which was closed around the ring. A scream of anger died instantly in his throat.

The singing had returned, surging to life on a current of energy. It echoed throughout every crevice of his mind. Now he saw not his own memories, but the memories of countless elves.

Years flew by like seconds. The people sang. The forest grew. The stars spun. Darkness waxed and waned. It was too big. Too much, too fast. The part of this vast tidal wave that was his own mind bobbed along, trying to remain on the surface. The currents were strong, though, threatening to suck him under and scatter his identity to pieces. The word "Elden" was a piece of flotsam that he clung to, it's syllables a reminder of the familiar that kept him from losing sight of it altogether and slipping into the roiling torrent of thought and emotion below. He repeated it over and over like a prayer.

Just as he was about to succumb, the sensation stopped abruptly. He found himself lying face down, the floor of the veranda coated in his sweat. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked around sluggishly. His body felt as though it had been utterly drained. Little ribbons of memory were still slipping between his own thoughts. A face. A laugh. A smile. A flower. A pair of pointed ears, bobbing ahead of him. And that music... strains of it still played somewhere in the recesses of his mind, snatches of a haunting chorus.

Nellas and he both sat silent for a time, looking at each other and trying to find words for what had just transpired.

Elden realized that he was still holding the ring. He opened his fist, gazing at it. There didn't seem to be any difference. He wanted to slip it on, to test its effect, but for some reason he did not.

"Elden."

The spriggan was gone. Not even a single branch or twig remained.

"Elden!"

"What?" Elden said, coming out of his reverie.

"What... what just happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

A/N:

Yaresse, i melko fuume sinome..

Once upon a time, the mighty one slept here...

I qualin er enyala i atalkorma.

The dead still remember the great ring.

I apologize for the long delay. It's been... what, a month and a half? I WILL be finishing this, however, it's just a matter of time. Once it's done it will be my longest story to date. Thank you for your patience, and as always, I love hearing your thoughts and opinions in detail.