Of Legolas and Lisaine

Leoglas thus rode away from Lisaine in the glade, just as the morning rays peeked through the rustling treetops. Though Neonean was of large stature, she was used to traversing uneven woodlands, and quickly trotted over the craggy ravines and jumped over felled tree trunks. At last Legolas came to the road, and stopped, for the procession of the elven army was already underway, coming towards them. Five elven battle lords led the way, Balanthos and Menarn, and Hanthenar, Marsanganion and Kerrinais. Each held a great elven shield, sparkling silver and blue in colors, depicting the arms of their homelands. Each held in his right hand a bow or long silver spear, with richly scrolled designs along the entire length of the shaft. Following the lead party were 300 horsemen, brandishing longbows and like battle shields, their helmets sparkling in the morning sun. Behind these marched a line of similarly armed elves, six deep, 400 in all. As they approached Legolas, Kerrinais lifted his bow of Mirkwood high in the air, and the whole company came to an abrupt halt. From the center of the city, a soft melodious music lulled over the forest, a goodbye from the elf maidens of Rivendell. A comforting sound it was, a constant low resonating song. When one voice died down, another began, so that the entire melody never ceased. Legolas tightened his legs slightly and Neonean trotted obediently up to the company and fell into place at the head of the line, beside Kerrinais. An elf ran up beside the great horse, handed Legolas his quiver, and waited patiently for him to tighten his knife and quiver belt to his chest before handing him two sparkling long knives, one of them Menea. The elf threw a thick satchel of supplies over Neonean's back, behind Legolas. Then the elf handed Legolas his vambraces, and finally his Mirkwood bow with the royal seals of King Thranduil, his father, scrolled upon it. When Legolas was thus prepared, Balanthos raised his spear, and the procession started again to the forest fortress of Isodor. The only sounds to be heard were the clanging of armor against shield, or horses hooves striking the hardened dirt of the road, and the soothing, musical lament of the elf maidens.

Then suddenly rising over the brisk morning air there came a single wretched cry from somewhere deep in the forest, so despondent and so grievous, that several horses reared up, and broke the lines, straying either to the right or left, and had to be coaxed back into their places. The soft music from Rivendell had also ceased; such was the overwhelming sadness of the wail, the elf maids too, stopped their song to listen to it. The elves maintained the march, but looked at one another in wonderment at what could utter such a desolate and sorrowful sound. It lasted only a few seconds, and then was gone, washed away by the soft sounds of the rushing Bruinen. The elf maidens returned to their task, their melody growing quieter and quieter. Kerrinais glanced over to Legolas, with the same questioning look, half expecting his companion to be gazing about the trees or the sky, searching for the source of the piteous cry. But Legolas had not done so. He rode stiffly on Neonean's back, tightly clutching his bow with one hand and a lock of braided hair, which hung from his leather belt, with the other. His face betrayed no emotion, but he rode thus forward, with his head bent low and his eyes shut.

It was late in the afternoon before Lisaine returned to her chamber. All of Rivendell was oddly quiet, the bustle of the past several days over with, as if past the end of a great festival. Walking slowly to her terrace, she pulled at the sparkling white comb in her hair, suddenly aware that her head and eyes hurt. She fingered the comb, gazing at it, but not thinking anything in particular before she returned to the chamber and placed it upon the rounded table in the corner of her room. Then Lisaine came back to the terrace. The afternoon sun's rays hit her face, making her skin feel hot. Shielding her eyes with a tiny hand, she watched several elf maids below. They wandered carelessly through the square, talking low to one another, not noticing Lisaine's presence above. With her other hand she aimlessly combed her tangled tresses, and her hand suddenly stopped at the cropped length of hair, the end still slightly braided. Her hand fell to her side.

The light sounds of footfalls running up the stairs to her door prompted her to turn around. Alnein walked through the door, anxious and tense, with a great smile upon her face. Lisaine was unmoved. The whole of the day's loss was not yet fully comprehended, yet the princess knew that an even larger hole was now left in her heart than when she first came to Rivendell some weeks before; a feat that she scarcely had thought possible.

"Not now Alnein," she said, "Please do not think me uncourteous, but I would rather be alone today. I am too tired." She turned back around to look out her terrace again while Alnein continued her way into the room grinning.

"Nevariel! Nevariel! I have come with news for you! Mithrandir has come back to Rivendell from the Northern Pass!"

Lisaine continued gazing out into the square, where only hours before, the elven army had set out to meet Rakal's dark forces. The surrounding trees beyond the gorge had lost some of their beauty to Lisaine, and she thought about abandoning her daily walks into the forest. She felt she could never feel the same about them.

"I care not of Gandalf just now," she replied with no feeling in her voice, "Alnein, do you suppose you will ever see your brother again after this black day?"

Alnein came up from behind and touched Lisaine's shoulder.

"Fear not for Kerrinais OR Legolas, for they are the bravest and the best in all elvendom, save for the great and noble elf kings and queens. None has better skill or is a better warrior. They will come away without harm." The princess turned around to face Alnein, her words of comfort seemed to lighten Lisaine's mood somewhat, and she smiled weakly.

"But come! You have not heard my news!! Gandalf is returned from the passes beyond Imladris and he brings with him the King of Irwindal and three lords! I walked through the forest this morning when the army had left, and I thought to stay there, but I heard a plaintive and hideous cry, so unhappy and wretched that I sought to leave the woods at once. Some are saying that it was the cries of the forest Birch, the love of Imladris, all come to one at the leaving of the elven army. And as I walked on the forest road, a multitude of 5 horseman flew up behind me shouting, "Make way! Make way! The King of Irwindal comes forth to meet with Lord Elrond!" and as I stood to the side, Gandalf galloped past me, and then the king, with the banner of Irwindal unfurled in his very hand after, and three lords behind him, all bearing the marks of the Anduin kingdoms!! Your father is alive! Alive!"

Lisaine's face had now turned ashen white, and she stared in utter disbelief. She could not have been more shocked by such news were it that Rakal had come to Rivendell to surrender.

"Is it true?" she gasped, "Can it be possible?"

"I have been searching for you all morning and much of this afternoon, where have you been?"

Lisaine's countenance now changed to pure joy and excitement. Running to the wooden chest at the foot of the bed, she flung it open and pulled out her gown, now cleaned, and the small swatch of linen that still contained her tiara and her father's royal signet ring. She closed her eyes, hugging them.

"Please help me Alnein! I must go to him at once! Surely he thinks me dead as I did him! I must dress myself at once, so that I might present myself to him as a princess. So that he knows me for myself!"

Alnein smiled and helped Lisaine pull off her elven gown. The dress that Lisaine had worn the night she escaped from Irwindal was far more ornamented than the plain brownish gray gown of the elves. The dress had been re-stitched where it was torn. Pearls and rubies dotted along the bodice, though stones were missing in several places. As she pulled it over her head, she caught sight of the Nissalos gown and veil that Alnein had given her, and she bent down to pick them up, suddenly remembering the events of the past several days.

"No," she thought to herself, "This is not right. I will go as I am." Lisaine placed the ruby and pearl laden gown back into the chest. Then, she pulled her own elven gown back over her head.

"What is it?" said Alnein, "Come get dressed!"

Turning to Alnein, Lisaine smiled again.

"I am his daughter," said Lisaine, "But I will not abandon the gifts that the elves have bestowed upon me. You and I have much to talk about, but I must tell you later! Now I must seek out my father! I will wear my elven gown, that will be enough."

Quickly securing the gown, Lisaine grasped Alnein's hand in excitement, and the two maidens quickly made their way out the door to Lord Elrond's council chambers.

Lisaine ran up the steps so fast that Alnein, close behind her, could hardly keep up. A new and vibrant energy seized the young princess, and she ran forth, unable to control her enthusiasm and delight. Running through the long open hallway, the princess could hear the monotone voices behind the heavy doors before her. She shoved them open, and ran into the chamber, crying,

"Father! Father!"

All conversation in the room stopped, as she excitedly looked about. But the smile left her face as she espied instead her uncle, Lord Hollein, sitting in the council circle, her father's crown resting upon his head. Lisaine and her uncle stared blankly at each other. Lord Elrond, clearly annoyed, stood up as two tall elves came running up behind Lisaine and Alnein to escort them away. One put his hand on Lisaine's shoulder, but she angrily brushed it aside and stood her ground. Before Lord Elrond could speak, Gandalf stood up.

"No, Lord Elrond. Let her stay. For this is Lisaine. Daughter of King Gillindon of Irwindal."

Lord Elrond slowly sat down, surprise and wonder upon his face, and sent away the two elf guards behind the women with a wave of his hand. One of the lords who had come with Lord Hollein sat scrutinizing Lisaine. Another jumped to his feet.

"What manner of trickery are you attempting of us Gandalf? Would you have us believe that this wench is the queen of the combined cities kingdom? We all know that King Hollein is the only surviving heir of the attacks that have besieged us. Our purpose in this council is not to decide what we already know to be truth. We have no time for your games."

"Yes," raged another, "We have come here for help of the elves, and you instead have led us into trap to confuse us."

"I lead no one into a trap," Gandalf snapped, irritated by the man's comment, "You have come here of your own accord. I have only helped bring you here. I boast of no other involvement. And now you would be willing to tear apart your unity when one more truth is laid at your feet. No salvaging of a kingdom is so easy, my lords. There are many truths in this world, and equally as many deceptions. If your hearts do not seek the truth, then you have only yourselves to blame for your entrapment."

Gandalf spoke to the group as a whole, yet he gazed directly at Lord Hollein. The first lord, still seated, looked angrily beyond Gandalf.

"Lord Elrond. If you will not send this woman away, we have no more business here. The king of Irwindal sits before you. The old king was a fool in allowing Rakal's army to continue unopposed into the north and plunder all at his whim. The new king would lead us to restoring our homelands, and if you let this woman counter what we have thus far managed to accomplish, the army we have assembled will fall apart, for they will not follow such questionable leadership. To permit this accusation in our company is treason, and an act of war!" Lord Hollein remained silent. His entire attention not focused upon the argument, but upon Lisaine. Gandalf laughed.

"Lord Beildan, you can hardly claim war against the elves with such a pilfering band of men. Surely you have other foes that need more conquering right now besides those whom you seek to be your allies." Flustered, the man said nothing and sat back in his chair, but clearly quivered in anger at Gandalf.

Until now, Lisaine and Alnein had remained silent. In all her life, none had ever been as disrespectful to the princess as this stranger, yet the dire circumstances she found herself in and the noble company of the room kept her from speaking. But the insults thrown at her father's memory were more than she could withstand. Stepping into the chamber, Lisaine bowed her head to Lord Elrond, who nodded in return. Then she walked directly to the first man who had spoken. She stood there before him, searching for the right admonishment. But her anger took over the better part of her judgment and she suddenly found herself slapping his face. Leaping to his feet, he began to draw his sword. Lord Elrond leaned forward in his seat, quite alarmed at the unfolding confrontation, but Gandalf sat calmly watching the whole scenario with wrapped amusement, an impish smile upon his face. Lisaine instantly drew her silver dagger from her waistband, and deftly cut the man's sword hand with the white elven blade, causing him to cry out and loosen his grip. Stepping forward, she placed her tiny foot in between the large man's legs, with her heel propped against his foot. Then lunging in, she forcefully pushed the man with her shoulder, completely throwing him off his balance. He fell backwards into his chair with a loud thud. The delicate wooden chair held his weight for a moment, and then broke apart under the strain. He fell onto the floor, dazed. Leaping over him, Lisaine wrenched the hilt away from his hand by bending his forearm inward, and then drew the sword from its scabbard herself. She cast the weapon aside, while holding her own dagger to the man's throat, the edge of the shining blade just below the man's chin. The man froze.

"So," mused Gandalf, "The skills of the princess of Irwindal come to light at last. Your father once told me of your sword training, but until today, I have never seen it."

"Enough!" ordered Lord Elrond standing up, "There will be no fighting, Gandalf! Nevariel, release him at once! We are not enemies here!"

Hearing Lord Elrond's stern words shook her, and Lisaine seemed to recover herself. She lowered the weapon and took several steps backwards. The man sat up immediately, his face red. Still holding his hand in pain, he slowly pulled himself to his feet and limped over to pick up his sword.

"It proves nothing," he snarled while glaring at the princess.

"You are correct in that, at least," Lisaine said coldly, "Mere skill with a blade does not make me a princess, but if you will allow me, I can prove myself to you." Returning the elven dagger to her belt, Lisaine turned to Lord Hollein, who sat motionless and rigid.

"Uncle. I know not how you survived the fray that night, but I am glad to find you alive. I came here because I thought my father was in this company, but now I see that, in thinking all your kin were dead, you have rightly assumed my father's place on the throne. But as you can see, I am alive as well. And I now stand before you, and beg you to give testament to these men at who I am by right and my heritage, because I know them not."

All eyes in the room fell to Lord Hollein as he looked at her up and down. The only break in the silence was the rush of the falls outside Lord Elrond's windows, and a bird, somewhere in the nearby trees, singing gaily. Lisaine stood tall before him, her shoulders held back.

"You look as my niece," he said slowly, "but I cannot be sure. You have changed much, if indeed you are my niece. But much has occurred since that wretched night, and my memory plays tricks upon me."
Until that moment she had always admired and respected her uncle, but now he seemed changed somehow. A dark pall was upon his face. Gone were his lighthearted smiles and gentle voice, and he now became almost guttural in his conversation. His eyes were dark and foreboding, his looks haggard. But in her mind, the princess attributed this to their mutual ordeal.

"He does not see himself so changed, yet he is very different somehow," she thought to herself.
Indeed, he looked like her uncle on the outside, but his personality seemed not to be his own. Lisaine could not help but wonder if he saw the same changes and differences as he looked at her now, and could not quite decide that she was indeed his brother's only daughter or no. Reaching into her waist satchel she said,

"We, both of us have changed much since our last parting uncle, but if you cannot know me at my face, perhaps you can remember this." Pulling out the royal signet ring of Irwindal, Lisaine held it up for everyone to see. Low gasps and murmurs filled the room as Gandalf merely smiled at her approvingly.

"Here is the ring of Irwindal," Lisaine said in a loud voice.

"None but the rightful king," she paused and looked directly at her uncle, "or Queen may possess this ring. I am princess Lisaine, daughter of King Gillindon."

Lord Hollein's face changed slightly at the sight of ring, and then he gazed back at Lisaine, but made no answer to her. Immediately, the lord sitting to the left of Lisaine's uncle left his seat, and knelt down in front of her, his head bent to his knee.

"Your majesty. I am Lord Kellindle of Euphratas. And this is Lord Arkon and Lord Beildan of Tuluth. Although we have never met, I knew your father, and recognize your father's ring at once. I believe you beyond doubt, for your father would never have parted from this ring to anyone, save you. You are the rightful queen of the combined kingdoms of Euphratas, Tuluth and Irwindal of the great river valley, and I am your servant, and to you I swear my allegiance. Happy this day is to find you alive, your highness."

Lisaine glanced over at the other two. Slowly, one left his seat and knelt before her, but glanced sideways at Lord Hollein, who was clearly perplexed at the situation unfolding before him. The third lord, whom Lisaine had disarmed, refused to submit, and angrily took to another empty chair within the circle.

"Gandalf," Lisaine said severely, "I did not come here looking for a kingdom, only my father."

"What you look for is sometimes entirely different from what you will find...to good or evil," the wizard said. Lisaine gazed into Gandalf's ancient eyes, and thought that perhaps he knew of Legolas and all that had transpired in the last few days. Seldom were secrets kept long from him, but to his credit, he said nothing.

"Alas!" Gandalf continued, "Your loving father is dead my child, and now you find yourself not so alone in your company as you have previously thought. Your rightful place now is at the throne of Irwindal."

"I did not come here to claim a throne," she repeated glaring back at Lord Beildan, "But none shall deny me my very name!"

Lord Kellindle lifted his head to her, fear gripping him.

"But your majesty! You MUST come with us! We have assembled a small army of 400 men. This is all that remains of the kingdoms of the valley. Most of the survivors were away from the towns and cities as they were being sacked, either traveling by the river or along the river trails. Every able-bodied man was found, and is ready to do battle to retake our kingdoms, which were left by the evil one's army to rot and disappear from the world. Even now they await word of this council. If we may receive help of the elves, we might retake our kingdoms and rebuild. Rakal has left with the vast multitude of his warriors, and leaves but few sentries in the valley. It will encourage all who fight to see the princess of Irwindal, escaped from Rakal's very clutches. Everyone thought you were dead."

"You can hope for no aid from the elves," Elrond said grimly. All attentions turned to him. "At this moment the greater host are marching to engage Rakal's army in defense of the city of Isodor. I can spare no warrior in defense of the Anduin valley."

"Then we will waste no more time here," said Lord Beildan walking towards the doorway, "I told you this was a fruitless venture. Let us gather our army in the pass and retake our lands ourselves." The other two lords followed suit and began towards the long hallway. But Lisaine jumped to the doorway, blocking their exit.

"Wait!" she cried, stepping in front of Lord Beildan. He stopped abruptly, now seeming to tower before her, and Lisaine felt a sort of determination that she had rarely felt before. Alnein stood to the side, perfectly willing to let everyone leave. But an urgent and sudden realization came to Lisaine, and all at once she had decided to attempt to sway the valley Lords to a different direction.

"I would say to you now my Lords, do not return to the river valley, which will be only a short-lived triumph. Our peril should be better spent for the common good. I say as your rightful queen, let us not vie for the Anduin valley and ultimate defeat, but make all haste to defend the elven city of Isodor." Another long silence ensued in the room, as this new proposition was laid before them.

"You may be a queen," Lord Beildan said trying to constrain his anger, "But you are no general. Would you spend what few people we have left in defense of the elves, who refuse to come to our aid? We cannot hope to defeat the Dark Lord's evil minions out in the open! It would be a massacre. If we retreat now, we can take back our fortresses and regroup against Rakal, if he should ever return. Then you may sit on your throne and sew your needlework."

"SILENCE FOOL!" Lisaine bellowed. Lord Beildan jumped back away from her, unnerved by her powerful voice.

"Irwindal was no village, Lord Beildan! The fortress alone maintained 1,000 men when the city was overcome and destroyed in but a few hours. How can you believe then a mere 400 might retake and keep three such fortresses against Rakal's return? He leaves you alive only because he thinks you are dead. When he realizes that men have reappeared in any of the cities, he will return and wipe you out at his leisure. But together, our army and the elves in alliance, we may defend the elven city of Isodor from the same destruction that we have suffered in the valley."

Lord Beildan's expression changed and he blinked, gazing at her. He knew in his heart that there was some truth to Lisaine's words. There was little hope of keeping the valley kingdoms with so few men. If the orc army returned before they could fortify their positions, they would easily be overtaken. Her imploring eyes captivated the lords standing before her, and they listened intently as she poured forth her arguments to them.

The lords of the valley were not the only ones hovering upon every word of her discourse. Lord Elrond's interest was peaked also. He had not anticipated help to the elven city by the very people that he had turned away. He could not have achieved such a pact between elves and men himself, not with these men. The cold truth was that the elves, superior in skill against the approaching orc army as they were, would be sadly outnumbered. But this single, diminutive exile was turning the tide of a decisive war before it had begun, before his very eyes. And suddenly a silent, small glimmer of hope came to his expression, where before there was none.

"We fight not for mortals to live once again in our own lands, my lords, but for all manner of beings, the privilege to live in any land. Once Rakal overtakes Isodor, he will come for Rivendell, and so continue until all men and elves are wiped out. Only then will his master, the Dark Lord, release his hordes from Mordor to finish what Rakal has started, and so enslave all creatures to his service. Can you not understand his purpose and speed in this? Rakal can do nothing without the permission of the darkest one who sits in the dark, high mountain. The great ring is lost to him now, and he would rely on stealth and numbers to overtake all the land, if he can. Do you think he gives up his quest merely because he has not ALL his powers available to him? Can you not see it? Indeed, I think the Dark Lord sits and waits to see at what point Rakal and his army will be driven back, as a test to the strength of the free kingdoms of Middle-Earth. He has destroyed the valley kingdoms first to make way for everything behind, and now he comes to the elven lands. I tell you now what the elves already know. Upon Isodor, everything depends. Rakal must be driven back; of this there can be no question. Only if we combine our forces may we hope to save all things from annihilation. Not mortal men only, my lords, but everything. Every living thing depends upon this one moment, this one test. Help your queen to destroy Rakal's army and send a message to the Dark Lord that the all the free lands cannot yet be taken with even his most evil creatures. Give to him a taste of utter defeat and he will perceive that he has not yet contrived enough power to win over all of Middle-Earth to darkness. Is that not worth battle in the forests of Isodor? Is that not worth our very lives?"

The tension inside the chamber was profound, and all was silent. Somewhere from behind Lord Beildan, Lisaine's uncle suddenly appeared before her. He stood there and then knelt to the ground on one knee. The other Lords glanced back and forth at one another, and then followed suit.

"My niece you are," Lord Hollein said solemnly, "None but my brother's daughter would have such fierce conviction and acuity. I am at last convinced and step down as king to the rightful sovereign of the combined kingdoms. To you I pledge myself until the end of your days."

Holding out her hand, Lisaine's uncle kissed her hand, but his touch felt cold and barren to her, and she gazed into his lifeless blackened eyes. Alnein had said nothing during the entire council. But now as she gazed at Gandalf, who stood behind the gathering, leaning against his long wooden staff, she sensed a kind of misgiving about the whole situation within him.

"Now then, my lords," said Lisaine, "Where is this army exactly, and how long will it take to get them?"

"I can answer that, your majesty." said Gandalf, "Even now they have come across the high pass to Imladris. For they hope to obtain aid from the elves and whatever arms and horses they may."

"Upon our weapons you may rely," Lord Elrond interjected, "but there are few horses to spare. Most left with the defenders this morning."

"It will not matter," said Lisaine turning around to leave the chamber, "The forest of Isodor is thick, and at least most horses will not fair so well for their keepers. We will need but 5 horses Lord Elrond, for the lords of the valley and myself. Let us ride within the hour!"

Gandalf smiled approvingly as they filed out the door. Speeding towards the stables, Alnein set off to alert the horse master that additional steeds were now needed. The princess seemed to find new purpose, and she strode fast and strong back to her chamber. Minutes later she emerged and went directly to the armory to find such a weapon and mail as she might obtain. She did this more for its appearance than for her own protection, feeling that at first sight, the men of the valley kingdoms must see her as a warrior, a leader. To defend the city she was resolute, but for her part of a queen, she was less certain. In Rivendell, her life was happy. Her whole existence there was based upon a desire for the ordinary. In previous years she had relied on Rivendell to save her from the stuffy confines of her father's house, filled with servants and such people as would oversee her every action. Here in Imladris there was blessed normality. Instead of being a pinnacle to those around her, it was she who could strive to rise to the level of the immortal and beautiful elves. Now she found herself in the very capacity that she had sought all her young life to escape, not even knowing if she could fulfill all she had promised. A heavy responsibility was suddenly laid upon her, and she wasn't sure if she was willing to risk all that was left of all the valley kingdoms. But of one thing she was certain, if she did not help, all of Isodor and Imladris would befall the same fate as her own lands. As a gleaming mail of silver was pinned over her gown, she began to drift away to the previous night. Of Legolas's bright eyes, of his tender touch, of their farewell, of her tortured moments when he left. Looking down at herself, she straightened a sleeve. Her resolve began to strengthen, and she pursed her lips. In whatever small way she could, she would come to aid of the elves.

An elf with a long, serious expression walked up to her and held out a small handled sword, richly ornamented with green stones on the hilt. She swallowed and faltered before gripping the hilt with her tiny hand. Immediately the elf pulled back on the sheath and uncovered the brightly polished silver blade. She looked at it as if she were a child again, looking up at her first pony.

"Lord Elrond requested that you take this sword with you," he said. Stepping in, he tightly wrapped the sword belt with its sheath attached around her waist. It was perhaps too tight, but Lisaine remained silent in front of the elf, thinking that she would have time to adjust it later. Upon her head remained her golden diadem, and on her forefinger was her father's ring. Finally, being so clad, Lisaine walked outside and into the courtyard where her uncle and the valley kingdom lords waited on newly acquired horses. Also there, astride her gray mount, and holding the reins of another horse, was Alnein.

She was clad in silver mail, a long leather quiver of arrows tied to her back. In her free hand she held a long bow of Mirkwood. The princess placed one delicate foot in a stirrup and pulled herself atop of her mount. Gathering up the reins in her hands, Lisaine looked over at her friend.

"Alnein, there is no constraint upon you to accompany me," Lisaine said, "The road will be long and dangerous, and I do not know what hardships await us before we are through."

"You need my bow," Alnein replied with a solemn look, "Each one of us must make a decision to come together for the good of all, or lay by the wayside, and wait for evil to fall upon us. I cannot let you go into this totally friendless. Besides, perhaps I will be saving my mother somewhere in Isodor by my actions."

"I go not into this battle friendless," Lisaine said, "But if you will go, I will not dissuade you."

Then turning to Lord Elrond and Gandalf, Lisaine bowed her head and received theirs in return. Gazing at the wizard, Lisaine said,

"Gandalf, will you not go with us?" He smiled gently, shaking his head.

"No my dear, I will be better put to use here. Your father would've been happy to see you now."

She was pleased at his words. Her father frowned upon many of the decisions that the princess made in her life, her keeping the forest close to the castle, her visits to Rivendell. It was pleasant for her to think that finally she could take an action to make her father proud. A slight grin came to her lips and she bowed her head once more, this time to Gandalf alone. Then, looking over the group of riders, Lisaine cried,

"To Isodor all!" and spurring on her horse, galloped away with Alnein, her uncle and all the valley kingdom captains with her.

The first day passed quickly, spurred on by the urgency to find the host awaiting the valley lords. Onward they galloped, until the waning sun forced them to set down for the night along the Bruinen. A cold mist covered the mountains, and its dampness penetrated every layer of cloth on the young queen. A small fire had been lit, and the group shared a meal of fruit and fish. Lords Kellindle and Beildan fell asleep quickly. Lord Arkon and Alnein tended the horses. Lisaine's uncle left to gather more firewood, and had just returned to the camp with a large armful of fallen limbs. Alnein gazed at Lord Hollein in the firelight as she polished her elven dagger. He rummaged through the wood, organizing the largest branches, and he seemed unaware of anyone. Beside Lisaine in the darkness was her elven belt that held her dagger and sword. The weight of the weapons was a drag upon her, and she felt relieved to remove them, if only for a short time.

Staring into the crackling fire, Lisaine felt tired, but sleep would not come to her. All her thoughts were focused on the next day, when the company would meet up with the small army, and how she would handle herself. A sudden thirst drove Lisaine to stand. Wrapping her blanket tightly about her she glanced over to Alnein and Lord Arkon, who were feeding and watering the animals. She walked towards the river, which was only a short distance from the camp. Her face was covered in dust from the road, and she longed to wash her face in the cleansing water. Pushing through some brushes, she came to a small clearing among the trees, and there knelt beside a small area of rapids. Dipping her hand in, she was surprised by its cold touch. It seemed colder than in Rivendell, having no slate bedrock to warm the icy mountain water late into the evening. The river was deeper here, and black swirls of whirlpools danced in the moonlight. Looking up at the stars, her mind began to stray to Legolas again, and she wondered if perhaps he was looking into the sky at that same moment. A slight crack from a broken twig behind her jolted her back to reality, and whirling around she saw the vague outline of her uncle, coming up from behind her.

"Uncle," she said standing quickly, "You should be back at the camp. It is very cold away from the fire."

"I was worried of you," he said sweetly, "The banks along this river can be treacherous. You should have someone to accompany you when you wander to the water's edge."

He took two more steps towards her, laying a cold, long hand upon her shoulder. Lisaine stood her ground and did not back away, but she shuddered at his touch, and longed for him to be gone from her company. There was something undeniably different about him, something she could not quite estimate exactly. His demeanor, though still kind and considerate was at the same time empty of feeling. She opened her mouth to speak, but a sudden crack whizzing by them, caught them both off guard. Instinctively, Lisaine jumped back, jerking her uncle's arm away from her shoulder as an arrow flew by in between them, not more than a few bare inches from each of their faces, and continued through a young sapling tree not more than five feet from them. Lord Hollein stared in the direction of the arrow, with a great redness of face, and then glared in its opposite direction, as Alnein, bow in hand, calmly stepped through a large pricker bush.

"Forgive me," she said, "I heard rustling in the bushes here and thought there was a deer."
Alnein walked up to Lisaine, who stared at her incredulous. As the elf spoke, she looked directly at Lord Hollein.

"A little more caution would be wise for you, elf woman," he replied hotly under his breath, "You could have easily killed my niece or myself! It is late in the evening to be out hunting, is it not?"
Alnein gazed at him, unruffled by his obvious displeasure.

"No need to fret Lord Hollein," Alnein replied coolly, "Even as I released my shaft I realized that it was you and Nevariel. You were in no danger of being stung, unless, of course, you might have leaned in to grab her at that moment for some reason."

"You are full of confidence when your quarry is unarmed!" he uttered angrily, "But I wonder how you would fare in such a quarrel with someone so armed as you!"

Her uncle's hot words filled Lisaine with dread, and she ran up to her uncle, grabbing his arm.

"No uncle!" she cried, "It was a mistake, I am sure! We are not injured! Let us not make more of this accident! Come, let us return to the warmth of the fire, for I grow cold, and tomorrow will be long!"
Pulling on her uncle's arm, Lisaine stepped over the brush and drew him away from the area, looking back worriedly at the elf, who stood upright, bow in hand, staring at them as they left.

Sputtering with fury as they approached the camp, Lord Hollein's anger over the near miss could barely be contained.

"She is a danger to you Lisaine!!" he muttered, "You should send her away from us! How dare she say such words to us! This quarrel between her and I is not over!"

Lisaine stopped short of the camp, lowering her head and sighing. Lord Hollein stopped abruptly with her.

"Uncle," she implored, "It is a quarrel you cannot hope to win. She is elf-kind and trained well in bow and sword for low these last three thousand years. She need never miss a quarry unless she wishes it. Believe me uncle, if she meant harm to either of us, we would be dead now. Save thy anger for the battlefield, for I will need you there with me."

"Whom will you trust?" he said in a softer tone now, "She is merely an elf, but I am your family. You are all I have left of my house. Will you not trust to me in this?"

His tone became a little sadder, and he turned away from Lisaine to continue back to the fire. Standing there, Lisaine suddenly retraced her steps back towards the river. She was startled again as she nearly ran into Alnein returning to camp herself after retrieving the arrow. The two stood blocking each other's path. At length Alnein spoke,

"Do not trust him," she said gravely, "Some great evil has befallen your uncle. I can see it with my elf eyes. His heart has a shadow hovering over it. Do not leave yourself alone with him."

"Alnein, he is my uncle!" Lisaine said, "What am I to do then? Would you have me believe that my own blood is ill disposed towards me? He saved me from Rakal's very grip in the forests of Irwindal. But for him, I would not be alive today. I beseech you do not provide any further displays of thy prowess, unless it should be against the real enemy. Promise me. The race of men may react differently to such acts than another elf, and I would not have you provoke an old man who has lost everything."

The elf's eyes gleamed bright blue in the moonlight, and no other feature of her face could be seen. The elf was clearly distressed. For the first time, Lisaine became unnerved by Alnein's stare. Looking hard at Lisaine, she continued,

"It was a warning to him Nevariel, and he heard it well. Harken to my words, young queen! For I am your friend, and I swear to you, on your love for Legolas, that he is fallen into darkness somehow. A pall of doom surrounds him. Do not leave yourself alone with him!"

The cold night air drove at Lisaine's tangled hair and her head sunk to her chest.

"I know you are ever at my side Alnein. But I beg you, speak not to me of this again, or of Legolas, for the mere mention of his name tears at me. But for your help I could not have hoped for such a waking dream as I have lived these last days. Would that he were here with me now! I could be braver going to this war if I knew he were near! Alas, I too have sensed a difference in my uncle. He is perhaps sadder, more forlorn, and his appearance has changed much to me. But then how much different must I seem to him? He recognized me not even in Lord Elrond's house. Happy and carefree as my uncle and I once were, everything we held dear has been taken from us, and we are both changed for it. But beyond that I cannot believe. For your sake, I would agree to stay weary of Lord Hollein on this trip. But I beg you, please do not provoke him further, for he bears the pride of kings and we will need every warrior if our campaign is to be successful."

The elf was silent, and her heart towards Lord Hollein remained as stone. But as Alnein walked slowly by Lisaine, she suddenly stopped and placed her hand upon Lisaine's arm. The young queen smiled to her friend, and it seemed to Lisaine that Alnein's eyes began to emanate a familiar, soothing light again. Lisaine's agreement for caution was the only satisfaction the elf would receive, and Alnein would have to accept it for the present. The two women made their way back to the camp, where all was now quiet.

Eight days had passed since the elven host had left Imladris. Fearing no enemy, the nightly camps were settled with well-lit fires in damp cold of the mountain foothills. But the fogs had little effect on the elves, who could bear the unforgiving mountain elements better than mortal beings. While Lisaine and her companions (all save Alnein) huddled before a bonfire, wrapped tightly within their blankets during the bitterly cold autumn nights, the elves merely walked about their camps unconcerned of the weather, tending to horses or weapons. Legolas said little during the march. Some great confusion was upon his mind. Some grievous weight that he had never before encountered was troubling him. Kerrinais could see it.

Seldom without his weapons, this final night before coming to Isodor, Legolas placed his bow and quiver and two white knives beside his pack. He ran his slender fingers along the edge of Menea, closing his eyes and whispering an elvish prayer, a wish that Illdinar's spirit had found the end of its travels over the seas. Slowly approaching from behind, Kerrinais spoke to him.

"You are thinking of our friend," he said softly. Legolas placed the shining blade within its new sheath that was made for him in the forges of Imladris. He laid it beside his own knife, and stood up.

"Yes," he said looking into a fire, "Illdinar was a good companion. It is hard to see such times, when an immortal friend falls to a merciless foe. You and I deal with all encompassing death in every battle Kerrinais, and when we see the death of our enemy, it does not taint us. But when death touches its icy hand to a friend, it is hard to accept. It is hard for me to understand that he will not be with us anymore until we make that journey ourselves, and perhaps never."

Lowering his head, Kerrinais placed his hand upon his chest and quickly spoke an elvish prayer. Finishing, he looked again at Legolas.

"But that is not all," he said with sympathy, "Some other thing troubles you besides Illdinar, I can tell. You have not been yourself since we left Euphratas, yet I perceive that there is some other thing that weighs upon your mind. It is not the impending battle, you have seen a thousand such battles, and they no longer trouble you."

Legolas smiled briefly, and then a small frown crossed his face.

"Kerrinais," he paused, "Have you ever...loved before?"

The question took Kerrinais completely by surprise. This sort of remark, coming from an elf, especially Legolas who had never displayed any favor to a female before, astonished him. He blinked several times, thinking back on his long life before answering. Such things were seldom discussed between the elves. Kerrinais was not sure how to reply.

"Well...no," he said at last, "Perhaps I was once long ago. I thought I was. But she was not a Mirkwood elf, and did not wish to stay in the Northern Wood to be set down with hearth and home and children, and left on a quest and did not return." His voice trailed off. He tried to constrain himself to only certain happier memories, and not remember others. All at once, he lifted his head, amiably dismissing it.

"Besides," he grinned, "She was very close to my house, and a union between us would not have been possible. But to me, more beautiful she could not have been were she Luthien or Arwen. She is happy now, and I am as content. That is the closest I came to love."

"But," Legolas implored, "When you thought you loved, how could you tell?"

"You must search your own self," Kerrinais answered glancing downward at the length of shining braid attached to Legolas's belt, "I only came close to love once, but never possessed it. I would say this to you Legolas. When you look upon the stars in the sky at night and wish for her presence, or you see her face wherever your eyes can look, or you can long for her touch, her voice, and all the woodlands are better around you because of her, then I believe you have loved."

Legolas stared at his friend, and seemed to be shaken by Kerrinais's reply. Kerrinais felt that he somehow had not helped him. He knew Legolas was looking for some kind of other answer to the question and he simply could not provide the solution. Such things were difficult for the elves to understand, and generally an elf decided upon a mate much sooner in their long lives than this. Trying to recall when he had seen his friend with anyone while they were in Rivendell, Kerrinais decided the riddle was not worth the trouble of solving when so many other grim realities were at hand. He returned to the largest bonfire, 20 feet away, and began to speak to Hanthenar of the coming day. Legolas stood watching Kerrinais before turning to walk into the woods alone, singing softly.