Ten Years Later

Sìneag had returned to find her village in its new location already with foundations built, thanks to the aid of the elves. The moment Tammara had caught sight of her, she'd raced towards Sìneag and thrown her arms around her, refusing to let go.

"Don't ever do that again," Tammara had said, her voice muffled against Sìneag's shoulder.

"I'll try not to," she'd smiled, but remembered the debt she owed to Thranduil. "Not for a long while, at least."

Time flew by quickly in Dale's new location. Rebuilding and resettling took much of Sìneag's focus and she found the days quickly slipping past. Her grief remained but it eased subtly with each sunrise. Mairead had blended Tammara and Sìneag into her home without a second thought and the two girls and Grier comfortably became friends and co-inhabitants.

Sìneag also found now that he worst had happened in her life, since great tragedy had struck, that the days quickly flew by. Life was short and fleeting and it seemed her ways of measuring it had changed with the dragon's appearance. Days felt like hours and months felt like weeks and before Sìneag could realize it, she was growing up. As was Tammara, who was becoming prettier and cleverer each day that passed. She grew tall and lithe while Sìneag remained short, well beneath five feet. Stories were told of children who went through great shocks or trauma that stunted their growth and kept them short and Sìneag realized when she reached the age of eighteen that she may be amongst them. However, Helena had always been rather short and her perhaps she taking after her older sister.

Dale faired well for itself, despite its many hardships. The elves of Mirkwood continued a silent alliance with them and traded with them through the river. When they would come to Dale, which was rare but once or twice a year, Sìneag avoided them as much as possible, in fear that one day they would ask her to repay her debt. However, they spent their time speaking with Damhán and conducting their business.

For all of his hotheadedness and rage of his youth, Damhán had changed somewhat in the last few years. He was still angry and still bitter, but he had promised to not seek his revenge on the dragon, especially upon Sìneag's return and her assurance that the dragon would be asleep for the next century or so. There remained something restless and unfinished in everything that Damhán said or did and Sìneag wondered if his ability to resist revenge would truly last. But the years past and he took no action and she hoped that perhaps it was simply the residual affects of his ill-nature, not any maddened scheme to bring "glory and honor to Dale" – something Damhán was devoted to – through violence and battle.

And so the days passed, Sìneag working and studying until she graduated from the local grammar school, after which she began to work in Mairead's garden and gathered and hunted on the edges of the forest. She helped Tammara with her studies, though her sister preferred to work with Grier, whom Sìneag was certain Tammara fancied. Nights were filled with stories and music and conversation and, despite all that had happened, Sìneag felt rather happy.

One morning, on the dawn of her twentieth birthday, Sìneag woke early and decided to take a walk through town before the day began. She loved watching the sunrise from the edge of town and as it was a warm summer morning, she decided there was no better opportunity.

She'd hardly made it past the blacksmith's home when she came across a familiar face. Staring at her coolly and cryptically was the elf Legolas, standing there as if he'd been waiting for her to appear.

"Hello, Sìneag," he said softly.

"Legolas," she said softly. "This can only be about one thing, can't it?"

"The elves do not forget. Nor do you, it would seem."

"I could not forget this – I always wondered when this day would come. I don't suppose I can refuse, can I? I must repay this debt as Thranduil wills it."

Legolas inclined his head in agreement.

"So this means I must leave Dale again. When?"

"Before night falls tonight."

Sìneag was flabbergasted. "I can't just up and leave like that! I have my family and commitments."

"Leaving is easier than you think," Legolas assured her. "You must go. Angering the King of Mirkwood would not be wise."

"No, I don't suppose it would," Sìneag sighed. "What exactly does this repayment entail?"

"Thranduil will tell you himself. It is complex and not without its challenges."

Though she was loath to go, Sìneag knew what her answer must be. "I will meet you here tonight at nightfall, I promise. Until then, let me say my goodbyes to my family."

"Of course," Legolas acquiesced. He turned to go and Sìneag called after him.

"Legolas!" she cried. "How dangerous is this journey Thranduil plans for me?"

Legolas gave her a sobering look. "I do not know. But it would best if you not think too hard upon it. Return journeys are always the most impossible to plan." With that, he walked away towards the rising sun.