Chapter 3

She felt someone touch her lightly on her shoulder, waking her up. She stretched her arms out above her head and yawned as she opened her eyes. She was surprised to she Legolas' head above her as he knelt on one knee next to her. She gasped out from the feeling of de ja vu she felt rushing through her.
"What do you want," she asked him tentatively.
"Elrond asked me to wake you up," he said. "And...I want to let you know that I've forgiven you."
"How gracious of you," she said, groaning as she sat up. The pains were still in her back.
"Well, if you're not going to take me seriously..." He began to stand up.
"No! No," she said grabbing his sleeve as she rubbed her eyes with her other hand. "I'm thankful for your forgiveness, really, I am. I'm just not very good at waking up sometimes."
He looked her over once. "Yes, well, we're leaving soon. Get your things ready." He began to walk away, but then turned around. "And do be more careful about exposing your...knives."
Mari looked down to her legs, noticing that in her sleep her skirt had moved and was caught above the holster right above her knee. She looked back up at him slowly, quite embarrassed. She caught the very satisfied glint in he eye before he turned away from her and walked off towards the horses.
When his back was turned, she was sure to give him a good glare.

Alidar popped up behind her, seemingly out of no where. "Was Legolas bothering you?"
"Not really. He was just saying I should pack up"
He gave her a stern look for a moment before speaking again. "And so you should. We're leaving soon." Then, he walked off in the same direction as the disgruntled prince.

Mari quickly reached a small clearing where she found the elves packing and mounting their horses. She noticed that Milhir wasn't mounting his own. As Mari entered the clearing, he motioned with the arm of his good side for her to come to him.
"You're not riding your horse?" she asked.
"No," he stated sadly. "Elrond thinks me too weak to ride alone. I'll be riding with Iflaím the rest of the way. You may mount Stiro."
She bubbled over with excitement when she realized that Stiro was the name of his horse. "Truly?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, amused by her reaction. "If you'd like to, you may ride him. He's oddly fond of strangers. Once he understood you were not trying to kill me, he became rather curious about you. Do you know how to ride, or would you need Alidar or Legolas to guide him for you?"
"Oh, that won't be necessary," she said as she smiling rubbed Stiro's nose. "I can ride on my own." She acquainted herself with him before she strapped her bag securely to his back. In one swift movement, she swung her right leg over his back. Settling into the saddle, she made sure her skirt hadn't ridden up and grabbed a hold of the reins. Iflaìm smirked at her as she settled herself atop the saddle. She noticed. "What?" she asked.
"You don't ride side saddle!"
"Well, given the circumstance, I think it's the best way to ride. After all, I can ride faster, and its safer this way."
"She's right, you know," said Alidar as he rode past Iflaìm, Milhir, and Mari, and up to Elrond to plot out the day's travels.
"Yes, Yes, I know she's right," he called to Alidar, though he wasn't listening. "I'm just amazed by her strangeness."
"I heard that," Mari called back, playfully as she rode to catch up with Alidar.

The company rode in good spirits, save for the sulking prince. As they rode on, the sun began to rise. The whole earth was bathed in its golden rays. That which could not be seen in the dawn's twilight was now clearly visible; vines climbing up the sides of tall trees, small animals scurrying beneath the fauna, and the gigantic mark on the side of Mari's face.
"What happened to your face?" exclaimed Alidar upon noticing her injury.
"What's wrong with it?" Mari asked, sounding a bit anxious.
"It's incredibly bruised!"
She reached her hand up, touching her cheek, but immediately pulling her had away. It was incredibly painful to touch. She winced.
"How did that happen?" he asked, both confused and alarmed.
At first, she couldn't remember, but then it was very clear to her.
"Someone hit me."
All eyes except Elrond's were instantly upon her.
"Who?" demanded Iflaím.
Her eyes strayed to Legolas. Mari wasn't sure if she should tell. Legolas disliked her enough as it was. Nothing would be achieved by tattling.
"I...I can't say."
"Why not?" questioned Alidar.
"Because... I didn't see who it was," she said, reverting her gaze to Alidar. "It was in the forest, before you all showed up. Something attacked me. That's when I climbed up the tree and why I was so on edge, eventually leading me to hurt Milhir.
They didn't stop staring at her. They knew she was lying.

"She doesn't have to tell if she doesn't want to. Things reveal themselves in time," Elrond called from up ahead.
She was quickly relieved.
"Do you have any other, more serious, injuries?" Alidar inquired, concern in his voice.
"No," she quickly responded. She was lying. Her back was still hurting from when she fell from the sky the day before. There were several cuts she felt should probably be cleaned and have some antiseptic on them, but she didn't feel much like stopping. They weren't that serious any way.

They rode hard all day. They rested only once and for a very short time over the course of the entire day. Mari thought that the horses must have been of amazing stock to be able to ride so hard for so long. In the late afternoon they stopped and set up camp.
"Why do we stop?" asked Mari. "It's not nearly dark."
"Yes," said Milhir, "But we are waiting for some one to met us here."
Mari grew curious. "Who is coming? Is he an elf as well? Is he from Gondor? Will this person come with us to Gondor?"
"So many questions, young one," Alidar said, bemusedly. "We are actually waiting for three others. Yes, they are elven, and yes, they will be coming with us to Gondor. The rest you will find out when they arrive. For now, I suggest you rest and help to set up camp." The last part he said as he dismounted.
She dismounted as well and followed him with Milhir's horse to where he was leading his own. Moments later they had reached a spot where Legolas and Elrond had already tied their horses. Iflaím's horse was standing near by also. He had dismounted and was carefully helping Milhir to get down. Seeing this, Mari had another flash of guilt.
Iflaím saw the grief written on her face. "Legolas," he called.
"Yes?" the surly prince responded.
"Attend to Milhir, would you? There's something I need to do." Just before Legolas came over to help Milhir, Iflaím whispered to Milhir, "If any one asks, Mari and I are getting fire wood."
As Legolas started to get Milhir settled, Iflaím came up to Mari. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Would you come with me?"
"She looked at him confusedly. "Where are we going?"
"To get fire wood."
"Um, all right."

They walked for several minutes in silence, picking up bits of wood. Finally she broke the silence.
"Do all elven conversations begin in silence?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, smirking.
"It's obvious you want to tell me something."
"You're rather perceptive."
"Thank you," she said with a large smile and her nose in the air.
He gave her an odd look. "And a bit cocky as well."
"So I've been told."
He paused for a moment, then saying, "Don't be so hard on yourself for what you did to Milhir. Elves heal faster than humans, you know. Besides, all have forgiven you."
"All except one..."
"Yes, I've noticed how Legolas regards you and I can see how it causes discomfort, but know that he is wary at first with all new people he meets. Soon enough he will let his guard down when he is around you. My advice until then is to ignore him."
"I'll try,"she said.
He continued. "You must understand that elves are beings of extremes; extreme happiness or extreme sadness, extreme love or extreme loathing."
"Well, it seems I have a long way to go until he's madly in love with me."
Iflaím laughed. "That you do, that you do! Until then, try to keep yourself in check when in his presence."
She stayed silent for a moment. "I'll keep that in mind."
"You'd best do that."
There was another comfortable silence between them as they gathered more
wood.
"So Mari," he said after a moment, "Tell me about where it is you come from. You didn't say much last night."
She thought for a moment.
"In many ways my world is much like this one; the trees are green, the sky is blue. But everything here is so much more alive. Magic still lives here, I can feel it."
"And in your world, is the practice of magic dead?"
A far off look passed over her face. "So much is dead in my world. It is
not suppressing that magic died with it all."
"But you journeyed here, did you not? If not by magic, then how?"
"Magic?" she questioned, turning to face him. "I never called it magic. I suppose one could call it magic, but I always just thought of it as a skill."
"Magic is a skill, Mari! A skill greatly valued in all of Middle Earth."
She stood silently in thought again. Iflaím regarded her speculatively before interrupting her silence. "Come now, Mari. We have enough wood and should be getting back."

When they returned the moods of the camp were generally better. Even Legolas was smiling. This was a bit odd for Mari to see, being that as far as she had seen he had neither the want nor capacity to express any emotion besides contempt when in her presence. As soon as he realized she and Iflaím had returned however, his expression became solemn and stern again, not quite as mean as it had been before, though. Nor were his eyes as filled with an ice-like sheen. They had changed to a softer sky blue.
She looked into those eyes and was struck with a lessened version of the fear she'd felt when she'd first seen them, yet she found her feet taking her toward him. She wasn't sure what it was she feared about those eyes, but she couldn't tear herself from them as she neared him. As she got closer his gaze grew darker. When she had finally walked up to where he sat with Milhir,
Legolas glared up at her.
"Yes?" he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.
It was then she remembered she had no reason for approaching them. Thinking quickly she said, "I came to see if your wounds had been re-wrapped."
"Alidar already did it," he said, nudging his head in the direction where Alidar was standing, talking to Elrond. "Why?" he continued. "Were you looking for a chance to reopen our healing cuts?"
"Legolas!" Milhir exclaimed.
His words had truly hurt her. After all she had been through in three days she did not have enough energy to feel angry at him. Only very hurt. She could only stare into the depths of those eyes that she feared with her own sorrowful expression.
"I think I'll go help Iflaím start the fire." With that she walked back to Iflaím who had set to work digging a small pit for the fire.

POV switch? why, i think so...

Milhir was in astounded at what the Prince had said He turned to him.
"What's gotten into you? Why are you so uncivil toward her?"
Legolas kept his gaze fixed on her as she walked away. "Tell me you don't feel it," he implored Milhir. "Tell me you don't feel it...when she looks at you!"
"Sympathy?"
"No! It's something else. Something stronger. There's sympathy, yes, but something else as well."
Milhir stared at the wood-elf analytically. "I think it's just you, my friend. I do not recognize what it is you describe."
"It cannot be just I who senses it. She emanates it too powerfully for just I to feel it. Perhaps because she injured you worse than me is why it doesn't affect you. There might be a means by which she keeps it at bay." Milhir's concern grew as he listened to his friend speak.
"You are not being rational Legolas. She's just a girl. A human girl, at that."
"A human girl from who knows where..."
"Legolas, just look at her!" He waved his right arm to where she and Iflaím were nearly done setting up the fire.
"That's just it Milhir. I am looking at her. Something she emits draws me to her. It makes me...uneasy."
"Do you know why you would feel such unrest toward a person such as she?"
"No." There was silence between them for a moment. "Do you think I'm misjudging the situation?"
"I'm not sure...but I do know that your instincts have never been wrong. I suggest to you though, that you stop being so uncivil toward her. Keep yourself in check around her."

Legolas eyed her with an unwavering gaze. What could be so special about this human women to have me acting so? he wondered. Perhaps the answer lay in her appearance, though over time Legolas had learned that appearances could be deceiving. Her clothes were odd enough, but her true distinction was in bodily features. Her brown curly hair and brown eyes were common enough, but her skin... It was dark, not from the sun, but dark in actual complexion in a way he had never seen any race in all of Middle Earth. Not quite brown but certainly not light in the way he'd seen other people. It was strange. Not at all ugly, but strange.

She had been watching Iflaím blowing on the embers of the stack of wood, but at that moment she turned her head, steadily meeting Legolas' gaze again.

There were times when it was difficult to tell apart Mari's second nature actions from those of her first nature, but this one was most defiantly first nature. Her instinct was always first; she felt before she thought, and at that moment she felt someone watching her. Turning her head slightly she found herself, again, locked with Legolas' eyes. There was less meanness, but a new very intrusive look was in them. It was as if he was trying to see into her. She didn't like it. He was taking liberties he had no right to. On her own face, where there had been a blank stare, there was now an expression that easily
read "Stop it".

He didn't stop though. He just kept staring at her, trying to unravel her mind through her eyes, until finally she couldn't take it any more. She turned her head away and settled herself by the fire Iflaím had finished. She could still feel him staring at the back of her head.
On top of being kidnapped by elves from who knows where, there has to be one who's out to get me, she thought. This is just my luck.
She sensed he was still staring at her. The same impulse that had made her go over to him before was poking at her again and telling her to... To what? She didn't have the slightest idea. She didn't like it when her intuitions only came half way. To get her mind away from her current issues she allowed herself to by hypnotized by the flames. Her mind's wanderings strolled over many things while she was in her trance-like state. Every now and then she would come back to the elf with the strange blue eyes. They were paler before. Today they're slightly darker. Perhaps they change with mood. Do all elf eyes do that? Quickly though, she veered off into other thoughts and ponderings. When she came back to a state of full consciousness the elves were now seated around the fire, talking merrily as they had the night before. Even Milhir sat with them. Perhaps elves do heal faster than men...

Mari's thoughts were interrupted by a loud rumbling in her stomach.
Alidar, from beside her asked, "Are you hungry, child?"
"Yes," she said meekly and slightly embarrassed. Where had all her courage from confronting Legolas gone?
Alidar handed her a flat wafer of bread from his pack. She held it between her fingers and looked at it quizzically. Does he really think this is enough to sustain me?
"It's quite good, I assure you," he said after several moments of her not eating it.
As not to seem rude, Mari quickly bit off a small piece off the edge of the bread to taste. To her surprise it was good. Very good. No, these were not the proper words to describe it. Only to say that it was the most incredible thing she'd ever tasted could pass for an accurate description. What surprised Mari even more than its taste was how full she felt after only one bite. She broke off a second piece, slightly bigger than the first. After the second bite she was entirely full.
She re-wrapped the wafer and moved to hand it back to Alidar.
He put his hand up. "Keep it. You'll need nourishment over the course of the trip."
"Thank you, " she said as she stood up. She moved to the horses to store away the bread in her pack. It was still strapped to the back of Milhir's horse, and without unstrapping it she slid the bread into the side pocket. Moving toward the horse's head, she stroked its neck. This calmed the beast a little, who had been startled awake.

Mari turned her head and gazed at the elves. An ethereal glow surrounded them, complimenting the light of the fire in a strange sort of way. They were beautiful. It was true that Mari didn't usually think beautiful was exactly the right word to use when describing men. Perhaps handsome or dashing would normally be appropriate. But these were not men. They were elves. Who have kidnapped me, Mari kept having to remind herself. It was difficult to think of them as kidnappers though, because of their courtesy and generosity, but she didn't know these people or their abilities. It was terribly stressful and frightening being around beings such as they. Yet, inside her was a fight between the part of her that was feeling the fear she knew she should feel, and the complete awe of her other half. Being near them made her feel as if she could some how gain some of the grace bestowed upon them. In a strange way it made the actions of Legolas more bearable since she was jealous; it was easier to hate him. Yet even in the depths of his cruel eyes she was still saw the same beauty and, as with the others, she wanted to be near him.

Just then, all the elves stopped talking and turned their heads in the direction Elrond had been watching. One by one, they slowly stood and came to stand behind Elrond. Faint, warm smiles marked their faces. Mari staid frozen by the horses. The woods had ceased to make noise. Even the crackle of the fire had diminished. Then, in the distance Mari heard hoof beats.

In the dark, away from the fire, the glow emitted by the elves was more clearly visible. In fact, it was something more than a glow. It was sheer light; a pure, white light that hovered around their bodies, an aurora around each of them illuminating the area in which they stood. How they didn't attract every wild beast in a mile radius was a mystery to Mari. One of them was enough of a beacon to draw a pack of wolves.

The hoof beats came closer and through the trees she could see riders approaching. There were three of them. As they got closer Mari was able to make out the distinct forms of two men and a woman. Two elves and a she-elf, she corrected herself. The three slowed down their steeds to stop in front of the standing company of elves. The two elves dismounted first, getting off their horses and immediately embracing Elrond. The three of them stayed in each other's arms slightly longer than Mari had expected. These two were obviously very dear to the elven king.
When they pulled away it was plain to see they were twins. They're frames were built strong, their hair dark and their eyes bright, excruciatingly similar to Elrond. One of them went back to the third horse where the she-elf was mounted who, Mari assumed, was Elrond's daughter, Arwen. Mari looked to the elves for any sign of who these two new travelers escorting the princess were. The only thing different in them was that their smiles had grown and their eyes were shining brighter.
She looked back to where Elrond was embracing his daughter. If this is his daughter, she thought, Those two must be his sons. The idea of elven parenthood sat strangely in her mind. Being immortal and unaging, wasn't it odd having parents who looked no older than yourself? Well, to her it was odd.

The elf maiden pulled away from her father finally. Mari took a deep breath. She had already wasted the title of Beautiful on the elves. With that being taken, there were no known words to describe Elrond's daughter. Exquisite? Breath taking? No, none of these in the least bit appropriate.
The sons had already started greeting and embracing the other elves and
now the Maiden began to do the same. When they finished greeting the ones that
they knew Elrond lead them to Mari.
"This is Mari," he said to them. "She will be traveling with us to Gondor to meet with Aragorn. Mari, these are my sons, Elladan and Elrohir." They each responded with a bow of their head and a "milady" after their stated name. "And this," he continued, "Is my daughter, Arwen, but I assume you knew that already."
Mari felt a wave of embarrassment as they looked at her confusedly. The presence of three more elves suddenly made her three times more nervous and intimidated than she'd been before. "Hello," she said some what sheepishly. She felt her face begin to redden when their confusion grew.
"You understand and speak Sindarin?" exclaimed Elrohir. The rest of the elves looked at one another then laughed.

"Come my children," Elrond then said. "There is much to be told by all."