Disclaimer: I don't own any of the LOTR characters or settings (that's all Tolkien's) ... regrettably ... what's mine are the OC's … and the mistakes … yep, that's about it.

Chapter 3

The first thing I realised upon waking up was that my head hurt something fierce. The second was that light made my headache much worse. I was laying on my back and the only thing I could see were the tree crowns above me.

What happened? This situation was awfully familiar of the few times I let myself drink too much. I was usually pretty careful about that, yet I still had couple of mornings when upon waking up I wasn't exactly sure where I was or what happened the night prior. However, that didn't seem to be the case this time. My head wasn't the only part of my body that hurt, in fact almost everything did. The worst was the throbbing pain in my right foot, or at least that's before I decided to sit up. Once I tried that, my ribs solidly took the first place. I almost passed out in the process and wouldn't have managed it without someone's hands steadying me.

"Easy there, little one." The person helping me up seemed familiar and before I realized, I was propped up in a sitting position, my back resting against something soft, yet firm. The movement made me nauseous. Yet my thoughts seemed to spin even faster than before Where am I? What is going on? And who the bloody hell is this guy? No matter how much I tried to recall yesterday the memories just didn't make sense.

There was pain, darkness and a wet mouldy stench. Followed by the sounds of rustling and footsteps. Then the mouldy odour changed into the fresh smell of the sea. Suddenly, I was sitting on the cliffs talking with a guy who was wearing a silver crown. And to top it all off we had a conversation about his silver cloak. I almost laughed out loud once my memory got to that part. It felt more like a psychedelic dream than a memory.

"Are you well little one?" snapped me out of my amusement. I focused my attention on the man, who was now kneeling by my side. He was tall and dressed in a manner that reminded me of my first Comic-Con and the Robin Hood costume I tried to make for it – tried being the key word here. It could in no way be compared to this man's attire. I especially admired his cloak, what caught my attention was its colour, it seemed to change from green to grey and then back as if it couldn't decide which colour was better. Green, grey, and green a-

"Little one?" the familiar voice brought me back to reality once again. What's wrong with you? I chastised myself. Concentrate! I tore my eyes away from the cloak and instead focused on the man's face. I was immediately surprised by how young he looked. He seemed to be around my age, maybe even a little bit younger. Except for his taste in clothing, he looked perfectly ordinary. He had dark shoulder length brown hair; long enough that he could put it up, if he wanted. His eyes were similar in colour to his cloak, but they were, just barely, closer to grey than to green.

There was a name on my tongue, a name that I have heard in that dream.

"Logon" my voice was horse and barely above a whisper, yet the man – Logon – seemed elated.

"That's right little one, it is I." Satisfied with my response Logon turned away from me and started to look for something in his satchel, that was hanging from his shoulder. I used this opportunity to gauge my surroundings.

I appeared to be in the middle of an old-fashioned campground. There were no tents, just blankets that were, at least at first glance, randomly placed on the ground. The campsite was lively, I could see quite a few men all of them tall and dressed in the now familiar green greyish cloaks. They were either walking around, laying on their blankets, sharpening their weapons or simply chatting. Why the weapons? There was something off about them and it wasn't just the weapons. Nor the not so inconspicuous glances they casted in my direction. It was something else. But what? I wasn't sure, that is before I focused my attention back on Logon. I was surprised to find him speaking in soft tones, gently unwrapping bandages on my wrists and putting some sort of ointment on them, before bandaging them again with a clean piece of cloth. My wrists were raw and swollen. A rope burn? Another surprising thing was that I didn't even realise my wrists were hurt, the pain paled in contrast with my headache.

During the whole process I watched Logon carefully, he was surprisingly gentle as if he didn't want to cause me any unnecessary pain. Yeah sure, that's it. Yet there was something slightly off about him, something not quite right. His hands. That was it, his hands were the wrong size, too big. And it wasn't just his hands. I realised, that although he was kneeling next to me, he towered over me as if I've shrunk, as if I was no bigger than a child. I could feel myself beginning to panic. Breathe I reminded myself breathe.

Come to think of it he wasn't the only one, the other men around the campground all seemed taller than normal. Too tall my mind not so helpfully added. Fuck! The illusion of safety I gained by sitting up, instead of just helplessly laying down, was shattered.

Breathe I instructed myself as I continued watching Logon care for my injuries. Just breathe. I tried to convince myself, that at least Logon seemed to be invested in my wellbeing. You can't be so sure whispered my mind Maybe he just wants to kill you later. I shuddered; I tried to stop the tremors from overtaking my whole body; I tried to calm down. It's okay. It's going to be okay I tried to reassure myself. However, from the way Logon suddenly started frowning, I could see that I didn't quite succeed. Breathe, I reminded myself.

"What's the matter, little one?" I was too concentrated on my breathing, that I didn't register Logon's question, nor his hand moving towards my face. That is before his hand got too close for my liking, and I've flinched away almost falling over in the process. Logon immediately stilled his movement. I saw his face morph first into a look of confusion, realisation and then something akin to disgust.

But it was too late, the scare was enough for the terror, I was so laboriously trying to keep locked away, to break free. No longer able to keep my panic under control, I started to shake even more. My breathes were coming in short uneven gasps. There didn't seem to be any air left. I can't breathe.

To his credit it didn't take Logon more than couple of seconds to regain his composure and realise my distress.

"Breathe, little one, breathe." And I tried, I really did, but I couldn't there was just not enough air. There wasn't anything to breath. I felt my vision beginning to swim, the sounds were getting muted. The last thing I've felt before losing consciousness again was a familiar hand on my forehead.

I was back at the seaside. I was sitting on the rocks and gently rocking myself. The rocking and the water were helping me to calm down. I wasn't sure what happened to make me so rattled, but no matter what it was, I didn't want to have anything to do with it. No, I mused, I would rather stay here, safe and hidden.

"Mistriel?" The Calm voice interrupted my musing. "I thought we've come to an agreement Mistriel, no more hiding." the Calm voice gently chastised me.

"Go away, go away." I repeated as I was gently rocking myself keeping my focus on the sea.

"Mistriel, we need to talk, you need to wake up." But I didn't want to talk now, I didn't want to wake up, I didn't want to go anywhere, I wanted to stay here, safe, hidden. Hidden was safe.

"Mistriel" Not wanting to hear anything else I covered my ears, only to realize that they were unusually pointy. The realisation hit me like a truck. No that couldn't be, I… No… that was impossible… there was just no way...

Yet my panic was soon interrupted by gentle hands cradling me against a warm chest. "Shh…, little one, shh all will be well."

At some point, I must have 'woken up', for the sounds of the sea disappeared and only the voice of the Calm one remained.

It took me a couple of minutes to realize that I was being carried by someone. However, once I did, I realised that somehow, I've gotten myself into quite a predicament, I seemed to be unable to wake up completely. I could feel things, I knew I was being carried by someone. However, I seemed to be unable to open my eyes, speak or otherwise show that I was awake. My body felt distant as if I wasn't really in it. I felt the familiar hand on my forehead and suddenly the darkness surrounding my senses has lifted a bit. Now, I could hear a voice chasing away the darkness that seemed to linger. At first it seemed to be working, but then the voice abruptly stopped sighing "This is beyond my skill."

"Is there anything you are not telling me Logon?" I could hear a thinly vailed warning in the voice of the Calm one, that if that man was lied to, it wouldn't end well.

"I … She looked terrified. She..." There was a short pause. Then after couple of seconds Logon continued "She seemed convinced, that I would harm her."

I heard a troubled sigh "I was afraid this would happen." After another sigh the Calm one ordered

"Wake the others, we leave at first light."

"As you wish" Before Logon's footsteps faded too far, the Calm one added "And Logon?"

"Chief?"

"It wasn't your fault."

The camp was slowly coming back to life, and soon I heard voices all around me. Some joking, some complaining about having to get up.

The whole camp was suddenly full of "Where are we going chief?" and "Again?" slightly annoyed "Why?"

Yet the Calm one was unperturbed, he spoke in calmly. He didn't shout, and still once he started to speak none interrupted him. No more questions were raised, the whole camp fell silent trying to hear the voice of their chieftain.

"The young one needs more help than we can provide." His voice almost gentle as he added "We shall leave for Imladris at first light." The disapproving voices were no more after this.

When I opened my eyes again, we were already on our way to Imladris. I awoke only to realise, that I was riding a horse for the first time in my life. Well, to say I was ridding would be a bit of an exaggeration. More accurate would be to say, that the person who carried me was the one riding a horse. I was wrapped in a warm cloak and surprisingly I was relatively comfortable. I was tired and everything seemed foggy, but the pain in my leg and ribs was lesser than before. I seemed to be detached from it the same way I was from my other senses.

I don't remember much from our journey to Imladris. I spent vast majority of it asleep and even when I woke up, the darkness surrounding my senses left me in a dazed state, not quite asleep, but also not fully awake. Just thinking took unimaginable amount of effort. The darkness surrounding my mind was peculiar. I couldn't decide whether the darkness's existence was a good thing or a bad one. On one hand it did give me reprieve from my pain, and I no longer felt any panic. On the other it didn't dull just the pain, it also dulled everything else. It felt like living in a dream. Something was missing. All my emotions were either non-existent or had a dreamlike quality to them, as if they weren't quite real. The same could be said for my senses.

During our journey, I was never left alone. Usually either Logon or the Calm one kept me company. I wasn't aware of them for the most part. The only time I truly registered their presence was when my mind ventured closer to the realm of wakefulness.

When that happened, they would coax me into eating something, or at least drinking some water. And I didn't fight with them, I didn't have any energy for that.

I would drink, and for the most part eat what they gave me, before getting lost in my own world once again. Even though the darkness kept my panic at bay for the most part, it would come back with vengeance during those moments of lucidity. Then I would be too busy trying to quiet my own thoughts to worry about anything else.

You know where you are they would whisper over and over again. You know what it means the thoughts continued. Let's be honest you are fucked.

There were times when someone from the company would try to talk with me, but I would just blanky stare at them. Too busy in my head to be able to distinguish what they were saying. I could see their worry deepen whenever their efforts were in vain. It seemed that my detachment bothered my companions. Not just Logon and the Calm one, but the whole company seemed to be discouraged by my constant refusal to communicate. Yet I couldn't bring myself to care for whenever I was more present, the pain also became more present, and my head was suddenly full of disturbing conclusions about where I was and why were the people around me behaving so strangely. I was obviously in a … No! I chastised myself Don't think about it, don't … I couldn't deal with those thoughts; they spoke of a reality that scared me.

Days passed like this, drenched in darkness and so bleak that I couldn't even tell them apart. Then on one morning everything changed. It was surreal, one moment the darkness was everywhere and the next as if crossing an invisible line, it hid itself. Mind you the darkness wasn't gone completely; I could still feel it in the back of my mind. However, its existence was no longer overwhelming. For the first time in days, I felt something else than pain or a whirlwind of thoughts that I tried to keep at bay, I felt curiosity.

I realised that instead of being on a horse, I was being carried by someone. As far as I could tell the whole company opted to walk and lead the horses instead of riding them. I could hear a river close by. The whole forest felt alive. The trail we followed earlier was now much steeper and full of roots and rocks. The trees seemed to know the Calm one, they greeted him like an old friend. No, not like an old friend I corrected myself more like a young wayward child who has finally come home.

"Hope" they whispered, "Hope is back."

At this point I started to doubt my own sanity. Afterall when confronted with possibilities of either I've gone completely mad, or the trees here can talk. It wasn't hard to pick the more likely option.

What's more, no one else seemed to be bothered by the fact that the trees talked. I was the only one who seemed to hear them "hope" I repeated. The person carrying me stilled his stride at that before answering in his usual soothing voice.

"Ay it is I, little one."

Now, I could add name to the Calm one - Estel.

Notes:

„Cursive" = dialogue in Elvish

„Normal text"= dialogue in Westron

Cursive = thoughts