It was surprisingly easy to sneak into Dale without being caught. The elves were scattered around the city to keep watch and set up camp, but were not looking for an exiled elf princess. If they were, they would expect one that was sneaking around in the shadows, not striding somewhat confidently through the doors.

I stopped before entering the city and removed my armor, placing all but my chain mail into my pack and shoving it and my weapons beneath a bush. My throwing knives, a gift from Fili, were hidden in various folds of clothing; I was not going unarmed into a potentially deadly situation; I had learned my lesson after Dol Guldur. My mail was hidden under my tunic; it would hopefully prevent Thranduil from stabbing me in the back. I loosened my belt as much as I dared and then cinched it back as soon as the tunic appeared baggy enough, making my form one of a starving child.

Since it was entirely possible that my short stature had been forgotten by Thranduil's men, I used my childlike height to my advantage and proceeded to make myself look as much like a human child as possible. Without removing the courting braid, I parted my hair down the middle and braided it on both sides, letting the tresses hang down my front. I made sure that both my bead and my pointed ears were covered and hidden beneath my curls, and I mussed my hair up for a moment, making the braids look several days old.

I brought my hood up to cover my head and wrapped my tattered cloak around myself as well as if for warmth. My clothes, skin, and hair were already covered in dust, cobwebs (to my increasing horror), and dirt from my crawl through the mountain tunnel, and my face was streaked with tearstains. The bruises on my neck, already yellowing due to my ability to head quickly, enforced the idea that I was merely a starved, frightened, injured little girl. And although I knew I had matured in the last year, I hoped that none would look twice at my appearance and would simply allow me to pass without question.

I learned long ago that the best place to hide is in plain sight, and it seemed that my theory was correct. I scampered through the doors, gazing at the elves with awe, my mouth hanging open. They ignored me, staring straight ahead. I continued on, craning my neck to try and see every elf that passed me by. I knew from staring at the mirror in my room that whenever I cried, or rather, after I cried, I appeared much younger, much more vulnerable. I scurried around the city, peering shyly into different buildings, hoping to catch sight of my brother.

Finally, after nearly two hours, I had the fortune to, quite literally, run into Bain, son of Bard. I stumbled and fell backwards onto the cobblestones, sniffing. An old woman passing by gave the young man a scalding look as he knelt down before me, eyes wide, asking if I was hurt, where my parents were, and telling me that he was very sorry. He offered me his hand, and as he lifted me to my feet, he finally looked me in the eye. His mouth fell open, eyes widening in surprise.
I smiled, staring up at him. "It's good to see you again, Bain."

"Aey—"

I cut him off with a look. "If you say that name here," I warned, "I will be dead in seconds." A grin brightened my face as a couple of guards walked by, and I offered him my hand. "My name's Mara," I beamed. He took my hand hesitantly and shook it, glancing around.

"It's nice to meet you… Mara." He glanced around and lowered his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for my brother," I answered, my voice pitched higher to resemble a child's but spoken at the same volume as would be normal. No secrets. I hoped Bain would catch on soon.

Recognition dawned in his gaze. "Oh, Le—"

"Yes, Leland," I finished, tugging on his arm. I was again thankful for my height; for all the world we looked nothing besides a bright-eyed little girl bouncing on her toes, clinging tightly to the jacket sleeve of a teenage boy. No one would suspect two innocent children of anything sinister, as was evident in the way the guards passed us by without a second glance. "Have you seen him?"

He nodded, his forehead creasing. "Yes…" he glanced around, then took my hand and began leading me down a path between two large buildings. The charred husks of once mighty trees stood guard at each end of the alley. I was grateful that he kept up the charade. Our height difference, though much greater than the one between the dwarves and I, was not as great as I initially had thought. I did not quite reach his shoulder, and the top of my head did not meet the chest of many of the elves we passed. I shrank against Bain whenever one passed, gaping at them, but they barely spared us a glance.

I put a skip in my step, chattering about my brother 'Leland' and how happy he would be to see me, and whether our mum would be with him, and how we had been separated but I was sure I would find them here, I was sure they were looking for me. Several elderly men and women we passed gave me pitying looks, and I felt guilty playing off their hardship until I recalled that it had once been mine as well, and that I was working to end it for them. Bain led me to a large, crumbling building where most of the supplies were being piled and pulled me gently over to a tall, blonde elf overseeing it all.

"Excuse me," he called, striding up to the elf. I shrank behind him, one green eye peeking around the young man at the elf. I could not tell if it was my brother or not. Although few of the elves in the Greenwood had golden hair like Legolas and Thranduil did—indeed, Maladernil and I both had dark hair like our mother—and it should have been easy to pick my brother out in a crowd, I still hesitated. I could count on one hand how many times I had seen my brother since my exile—twice, since I counted my imprisonment as one segment of time and also counted Laketown as one, although it was perilously close to falling into the same category as the first—and therefore was not able to identify him nearly as well as I could my eldest brother. Therefore it was with baited breath that I waited, clinging to the back of Bain's shirt, as the elf turned to eye the young man with some confusion. It wasn't him. I hid completely.

"Yes?" he questioned. I imagined him glancing at me in confusion, wondering why I was hiding, and I began to shake. If Thranduil learned I was here—

"I'm sorry to bother you," Bain began, "but it is urgent. This girl was separated from her brother upon reaching the city and has been looking for him everywhere. I am looking for my father as well, hoping that he has seen her brother somewhere. Have you seen him?"

The elf was silent for a moment, but eventually spoke. It was easy to guess that he did not know Westron very well, as he spoke very slowly and clearly. I knew, however, that however poorly he might speak the language, he was able to understand it much better than he let on. Most of us were like this: we understood a language better than we spoke it. Had I not grown up as a princess, for however short a time, I would likely not have known how to speak Westron, and therefore would not have been able to travel with the Dúnedain. Although, admittedly, it was through travelling with them that I learned to speak it so fluently. "Who is your father?" he asked. His voice was tense, rather annoyed if I'm being completely honest, as if he had no desire to deal with these meddling human children and wanted only to return to the Elvenking's halls and drink wine.

"Bard, lord of Dale," Bain answered clearly. His voice held an edge of its own, making it clear that he would not allow anyone, not even an elf, to treat him with disrespect. He would make a just lord one day, I mused.

"Ah, yes. He was overseeing the… ahem, training, in the market." The elf's tone made it clear that he looked down upon the farmers and fishermen who were training with dulled swords and rotten rakes, and I couldn't really blame him. When one has had centuries to enhance and perfect their fighting skills… seeing those with none try and defend themselves is almost laughable, unless in a life or death situation, when the humor turns to pity and panic. Pity for their naivety, and panic when you realize that the untried fighter's blood will be on your hands for not teaching him well enough to properly defend himself.

I could practically feel Bain's furious glare, knowing that a scowl had darkened his face. "Bain?" I whispered, tugging on his sleeve. As the young man moved to look down at me, the elf turned his back on us, returning to his mundane task of sorting through all the vegetables and firewood that was being brought in. "Can we hurry? I want to find my brother."

He nodded, giving the elf a nasty look. "Of course, Ae—Mara." He hastened to correct himself, but the damage was done. The elf turned sharply to stare down at me, and I stared back, frozen. I still was half hidden behind Bain, and I did not recognize the elf, so I thought there might be a chance I was not recognized. I knew Thranduil's men and guards, I recognized all their faces, and this one was not one of them. I could only pray that he had never seen me or received a description of me. Surely Thranduil did not want me that badly?

The elf, one of the tall ones, I noted bitterly, knelt down to look me in the face. I stared back, trembling, and felt tears form in my eyes. To my growing alarm, I realized that I wasn't faking them. I was so exhausted, so afraid, that I was crying. As I realized later, that was what saved my life. "What did you say your name was?" he asked in the common tongue.

I gripped Bain's tunic tighter and gazed back at him, but managed to squeak out an answer, my name evolving to cover Bain's flub. "Amara," I whispered.

"And whom exactly are you looking for?"

A tear slipped down my cheek, and I did nothing to stop it. My bottom lips trembled, and the smirk slid off the elf's face. "My brother," I whimpered, another tear dripping from my lashes. "Leland."

"Oh." The elf looked alarmed that I was crying, and he stood, brushing the nonexistent dirt off his clothing. He gave me a slight pat on the shoulder and waved us on. "There, there… take her to her family, please."

Bain nodded and strode away, keeping a firm grip on my shoulder. I did not dare look back at the elf, who I knew was watching me, but sniffled instead, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands instead of wiping under my eye like an adult would. As soon as we passed through a crowd, where I knew the elf could no longer hear us, I let out a breath. It was ironic to me that I, a two hundred year old warrior, had to rely on a young, untrained boy. My life was quite literally in his hands, and if he slipped up again like he just had, the consequences would not bear thinking about.

"We need to hurry," I murmured, gripping his hand tighter.

"I know," he replied, shying away from a rowdy group of elves sitting on the molding steps of a marble building whilst sharpening their swords. "Once we reach Da, we can—"

"We can't go to your father, Bain. The Elvenking is with him, and I…" my voice cracked, and when I spoke, I was completely honest, although I was sure that my fear added to the illusion that I was but a frightened girl. "I am afraid of him."

He squeezed my shoulder. "There's nothing to fear," he replied lightly. We made it to the other side of the crowd and entered another alley, this one completely deserted.

I stared up at him with disbelief, ready to tell him what really had happened within the Elvenking's halls, but before I could a strong, familiar voice stopped me in my tracks. By this time, we were halfway through the backstreet, no one around to hear us.

"Bain!" I glanced back, making sure to keep my face covered, and nearly collapsed in relief. Legolas strode through the crowd, making his way towards us. He hadn't seen me yet. He entered the alley and reached the bargeman's son in a matter of moments. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "Your father is searching for you. He demands that you find your sisters and find a place that will be safe should the city be attacked."

"Attacked?" the boy repeated. He seemed to have forgotten I was there. Legolas turned to go, and Bain woke from his daze. "Wait!"

The prince turned back, his eyes landing on me this time. There was no mistaking the panic and shock that covered his face, but an instant later his features were calm, even though his pallor was much paler than it had been a moment before. "What is she doing here?" he asked, his voice very, very controlled. His eyes darted around nervously, watching for his father.

"This is Amara," Bain stated. I wondered if he realized that this was my brother. Probably not, since he was still talking. "She was separated from her brother Leland, and I'm helping her find him. We were on our way to see my father and ask if he—"

Legolas shook his head. "No. Bard and Thranduil are in a private meeting, you cannot interrupt them."

"Of course I can," Bain said carelessly. He seemed to be taking great pride in remembering every detail about my story, something that he should not be doing even if we were around someone I felt threatened by; it would be too suspicious. "She's lost! I have to—"

"Oh for heaven's sake," I snapped, tugging my hand out of Bain's grip and moved to stand beside my brother. "Bain, this is Leland." Bain stopped speaking midsentence, staring at me in shock.

"Leland?" Legolas repeated. He still looked utterly shocked that I was standing in front of him.

"He's your—"

I nodded vigorously to shut him up. "Aye. This is my brother. His real name is Legolas. Thank you for helping me, Bain, but now you must listen to him. Go find your sisters. There is a war coming, and I don't want you to be in the middle of it."

"Aeyera, how do you know about this?" Legolas whispered. "And what are you doing here? If our father finds out—"

"Your father," I snapped. "Not mine. I know because it's partially my fault, and I'm here for the same reason. I need to speak to you."

Bain finally picked up on the urgency in my voice and went to stand guard at the end of the tunnel. He wasn't doing a very good job, as he was trying to listen in on our conversation, but I ignored him, focusing instead on the matter at hand.

"You shouldn't be here. If he finds you—" Legolas tried again.

"To hell with him!" I snapped, switching to my native tongue. I was too stressed, too irritated, to deal with men listening on my conversation as well as elves. Legolas seemed surprised, and I plowed on, taking advantage of his shock. "Legolas, I wrote to Maladernil. I told him of what is about to happen. If all went according to plan, he will be arriving soon with an army of those loyal to us. To me."

The shock on his face gave way to horror. "What have you done?"

"Now is not the time to explain. Legolas, I must speak with you, the future of Middle Earth depends on it." As dramatic as it sounded, I realized as soon as the words left my mouth that they were true. If the elves attacked the mountain as they planned to, it would mean war: war against elves, men, and dwarves. And then, at the end of the battle when none but a few remained, the orcs would sweep through and annihilate the survivors and the east would fall to darkness. As long as I had breath in my lungs I would not allow that to happen.

He sighed, closing his eyes. My heart beat faster. If he refused to go with me, it would be a disaster. I would not choose between brothers when it came down to fighting, nor could I sit by as one attacked my betrothed as well as my friends. If he said no— "Very well."

I blinked. "What?"

He opened his eyes. "I will listen. We must leave the city first. If Thranduil finds you…" he trailed off, but I noticed his jaw tense as if he were clenching his teeth, and his eyes hardened in anger. I nodded. I didn't need him to finish; I knew what was in store for me if we failed.

"We need to meet Mithrandir at the citadel," I said softly. "If we try to leave the city now, we will be caught. Once it is dark, I will leave, but until then I am trapped here, which is why Mithrandir had us meet him up there," I nodded at the tower.

He glanced up at it, and then at me, and then took my hand. "Follow me."

We plunged into the midst of the crowd and began making our way to the tower. None stopped us; no one would dare question the prince as to why he was comforting and walking with a small human girl. We made it to the citadel in less time that I thought it would take, and we raced up the steps until we reached the pinnacle. We really had chosen the best place to meet. There were windows on all sides, and walls as well, and we were high enough that we could see out but none could see in.

We sat on a long stone bench against the wall, watching the only door from which the wizard was sure to emerge, and began talking. I told my brother everything, not leaving out a single detail from the time I was captured by Thranduil—Legolas still did not know the extent of the injuries I had received there—to when he had found me minutes before. It took nearly an hour to do so, and by the end the wizard and bowman had still not arrived. Legolas asked few questions, mainly choosing to listen, but by the end he was clearly angry.

"How dare they betray you," he growled.

Before he could continue, I broke in. "It was only Thorin, Legolas, and he himself is not in his right mind. It was not his fault." His words and actions still hurt, though, and the bruises on my neck throbbed.

He stayed silent for nearly a minute, thinking. His next question startled me so badly I nearly fell of the bench. "Where were you, all those years?" he asked softly. When I didn't answer, he turned to look at me, startled by the panicked look I wore. "Aeyera?"

"I-I was—" I had to tell him. He didn't know. He knew I had a Morgul wound, but not how I had received it. I swallowed. "I was held captive and tortured in Dol Guldur for twenty years."

Legolas froze, his face draining of color. He looked terrified, horrified, and utterly broken. The instant the words left my lips I wished I could take them back, but I couldn't. He needed to know the truth. "What?" he whispered, his voice nearly as hoarse as mine was.

"Less that a fortnight after we separated, I was captured and taken to Dol Guldur. Azog the Defiler—" I swallowed again. My mouth had gone dry as I thought about how he would be here soon, looking to kill not only me, but also all whom I loved. "He tortured me. For years, he tortured me, till one day he stabbed me with a Morgul blade and left me for dead. The skin changer Beorn heard word from the birds that flew over the fortress that I was being held there. When the orcs emptied the fortress that day to go to Moria to prepare for the battle of Azanulbizar, he entered Dol Guldur and rescued me. It was thanks to him and to the Dúnedain that I healed. They passed by his lands, and he found them and asked for their help. They saved me. Maladernil found out about my rescue from a group of rangers passing through Lothlórien and immediately raced to my side. He remained with me until I was fully healed and only left when we reached the borders of Lorien because I could not bear to enter such a pure place when I myself was so tainted. We continued to see one another throughout the years, though. He will be a great king, one day."

Legolas, whose gaze had been fixated on my face as I spoke, started. "You wish for Maladernil to be king?"

"I know that you have never wanted that title," I answered carefully. "I know that you were not raised to be a king, while Maladernil was. He has been raised as the crown prince for thousands of years, whereas you have not. I believe that our older brother will make a kind and just king. I also believe that Thranduil's reign has become rotten and corrupted, much like the forest he resides in. It has been said that we reflect the state of our home, the Greenwood, but I often wonder if the Greenwood reflects our state. Our people, those who are pure of heart, have left the Greenwood. Only those who are loyal to Thranduil or are too afraid to stand against him remain. Our home has been twisted by fear and pain, Legolas. Is it not time for this to change?"

"And do you think that killing our father to place our brother on the throne would fix this?" he countered softly.

I sighed. Why did everyone think I wanted to kill Thranduil? His death, although it would dampen some fears about being found and tortured, would only cause more strife, and murder was one thing I refused to turn to. "No."

"Then why have you called our brother?"

"Because my betrothed is trapped inside the mountain. Azog rides for the mountain at the head of an army. Thorin has sent for Dain Ironfoot, who will arrive with his army at the rising of the sun. Thranduil plans to attack at dawn, and the people of Laketown fight alongside him. There can be no end to the battle if all one sees are enemies. What is needed is a common enemy, a common goal. Our people—the elves, men, and dwarves—need to see this. They need to band together and fight for the good of Middle Earth. This isn't about me, or Thranduil, or Maladernil. This is about our world. If they attack tomorrow—" I gestured to the windows, through which could be seen the mountain as well as the men and elves residing in Dale, "then all will be lost. Please understand, Legolas. Do I want a new king?" I thought for a moment. "Perhaps. I think that Thranduil is a tyrant and a bastard and that Middle Earth would be better off without him.

"However, I will not kill him. If he wishes to go to the Undying Lands, very well; then I will stay here with my family. But the Greenwood is no longer my home. Erebor is not my home. There is a saying that Arathorn once told me: home is where the heart is. I always thought of it as a place, but I have come to realize that it is family. My home is where Kili is. He is my betrothed, and where he goes, I go. I doubt that we will ever return to the Greenwood whether Maladernil is king or not. I know that if he is king, you will finally be free. I know how much you have longed for your freedom since Mother died."

"Answer the question, Aeyera," he chided me gently, cutting off my rambling. I hadn't realized how off topic I had gone. "Do you want to kill Thranduil?"

"No. There has been too much bloodshed already, and I will not kill my father, even if he has no right to call me that any more."

"Then why did you call forth an army?" Legolas pressed, searching my eyes for an answer that I was finally willing to give.

"Because I made a promise," I told him. "Long ago you watched a little girl rush to the air of a people who were not her own. That little girl grew up, but she still fights for them, she fights for her people. She promised that she would protect them with her life." I looked my brother in the eye. "And I intent to."
"I will not let you die."

"I do not plan on dying."

"Few do."

"The army rides to stand between two opposing forces and keep them apart until the true threat is recognized. If we keep the elves, men, and dwarves apart long enough, they will see the orcs and turn on them instead of each other. Do you understand?"

"I think I do." Legolas and I looked up to see Bard and Gandalf standing in the doorway. From their stances, I guessed that they had been there a long time. Bard bowed his head. "Princess."

I smiled and rose, curtsying. I quickly rushed over and hugged him, hearing him laugh. "Bard, it is good to see you again."

"And you. I have heard what you said, and I agree. I will do all I can to keep my men from attacking. We need recompense, yes, but if what you say is true and the orcs plan on attacking, then the gold can wait."

I stepped away, noticing that the sun had sunk down behind the mountain. "You are wiser than Thorin, then," I told him.

He chuckled humorlessly. "The dwarf king is foolish," he replied, "caring only for gold."

"He is overcome by gold sickness," I replied. "My hope is that the coming battle will break the darkness' grip on him."

"I hope you are right."

"I am," I answered immediately. I had to make sure my point was across, though; I was out of time. "Thranduil will listen to no one. He will not believe that the orcs are coming; he will think it is a ploy to protect the dwarves. Be ready."

He nodded. "You have my word."

The sun then set, and darkness covered the land. "Come, Princess," Gandalf said, motioning for the door. "We must leave the city."

"Wait." I turned at the sound of Legolas's voice and stared at my brother, who was on his feet, glancing between Bard and I. I knew he was struggling. His whole life he was tried to make Thranduil proud, and now he was being asked to betray him. "I will come with you."

I stared at him in shock. "Really?"

He gave me a slight smile. "Really. I would see a better world, one with peace. I will stand by you and our brother to see that happen."

I nodded, so happy I could not speak.

"Let us be off, then," Gandalf urged as Legolas and I rushed from the room and out of the city. Although we were far away by the time he said them, hurrying down the aged stone steps, the wizard's words reached my ears and awakened a fire and a fear deep within my heart. "The last night is upon us, and come morning there will be a battle the likes of which has not been seen for an age."