The Light of Valar

Chapter 1:

"Mama, why must we go away alone?" the young girl asked, looking up at the older woman with shining eyes. They were like the green leaves of the north forest, yet the tears clouding them resembled the great seas to the west.

The woman knelt down to the child and embraced her. The young girl, only nine summers old, was shaking, but from the chilling night air or fear, she did not know.

"There is much darkness coming, my child. You must flee before it comes to us," the woman told her.

Behind them a chestnut mare neighed impatiently as it fought against the leather bindings holding it to the rail. It was as if it could smell the evil coming and was attempting to escape it. The woman looked at it, and then down the road. Her eyes could not see much through the darkness, but she could feel in her bones that they were drawing close.

"But what is the darkness?" the small girl asked, her face filling with curiosity. The woman smiled down at her; even in such times she could find a way to be young and naive.

"I cannot tell you now, but someday you will know. Then maybe you will understand why I am doing this."

She then stood, not caring that the mud of the road stained her skirts, and looked toward the house.

"Esalar!" she called.

A young boy came running from the house, a small pack cradled in his arms as well as a long black sheath. He was not even thirteen summers old and yet there he was with his father's sword, ready to protect his family. The thought made the woman shudder with grief, the idea of her son wielding such a thing against an enemy so terrible made her darkest nightmares seem like wonderful dreams.

As the boy approached, the woman relieved him of his burdens. The boy ran to the horse and climbed onto its back with difficulty, the mud making the bottoms of his boots slippery. And as if the night was not dark enough, the heavens opened up and it began to rain. It pounded on the earth, and they were soaked through within seconds.

The woman secured the pack to the side bag on the horse and went to the little girl. Picking her up, the woman carried her over to the horse and placed her in front of the young boy. They were all shivering now, but they had no time to delay.

Slowly the woman passed the long sword to the boy, who held it in his hands. It was too large, too bulky for his small form, there was no way he could wield it in real danger, but it was the best protection she could provide.

"I never thought I would have to see my son hold such a weapon in his own hands. I never thought I would have to see my own children face such evil," the woman said.

"Come with us Mama!" the boy shouted through the downpour.

The woman shook her head. "No. Nemarion cannot bear all of us and you will ride faster with just two."

The young boy and girl looked down upon their mother, their tears masked by the rain streaking down their faces. She looked back, trying to be strong, but felt her will beginning to fade.

"Esalar, you must take your sister and ride east. Do not go into the forest, they will find you there. Do not rest until you are past Midgewater. You must be invisible to everything," she said, tightening the bags and packs on the horse's saddle.

"Mama…" Esalar begged.

"When you see the white rock and the blue river, wait there for no more than three nights. Someone will find you there and they will take you to where it is safest. If anything is to go wrong you take your sister and you run. Do you understand me?"

Esalar looked at her and slowly shook his head. "Mama, I can't do this. I can't protect us both."

The woman reached up and put a hand on her son's face. "You can and you will. You have always been your father's son, Esalar. When the time is right, you will know what you must do," she said.

Suddenly there was a scream and the three looked down the road where a house was now a blazing fire. More screams pierced the night and more things were set alight.

"They are here," the woman muttered under her breath. She turned back to her children and untied the horse from the rail. "You must go Esalar. And go quickly."

The small girl reached out to her mother, her sobs now racking her body. The woman took her daughter's hand and kissed it gently. "You must be brave. We will see each other again," she said.

"When? Where?" Esalar asked urgently.

The woman looked at him with a smile on her face, but sadness in her eyes. "When the time is right. Where everything and everyone is at peace. In the undying lands."

Esalar's eyes grew wide. "No, Mama! No! You can't leave! No!"

"Esalar, look at me!" the woman shouted. "My time has passed. It is time for me to go on. There is still time left for you and your sister. Now go!"

The boy looked at her, still not commanding their horse to move. The screams grew louder, this time mixed with the hideous cackles of the dark creatures tearing apart their town.

"Go Esalar!" the woman screamed.

The boy looked at her one last time before turning Nemarion around. He nudged the horse forward and they broke into a gallop. The small girl screamed for her mother but no one, only her brother, was there to comfort her.

The woman stood in the middle of the road, watching as her children left the village. The creatures grew closer and she could now see their silhouettes in the dark. With one last look over her shoulder towards her children she said, "Run hard Esalar. And I will see you soon."

A creature came into focus and it grinned at her with crooked yellow teeth. In its hand it held a blackened piece of metal, covered in what she could only imagine as the blood of her friends and fellow townsfolk. The creature raised its weapon and walked over to her, seeing that she would not run.

"You were our last wish Aeothen. I love you."

And with that she took her last breath.

They rode on hard for days and did not stop until they had gone well past the village of Midgewater. Aeothen had not stopped crying until the day previous, unable to believe that their mother was gone. Even her brother Esalar, who usually always found a way to cheer her up, could do nothing to lift her mood. Not that he had tried very hard. Esalar was in a fit of depression as well and being the only protector and guide made things worse.

They were camped in a small hollow in the side of a rock face, but Aeothen did not pay much detail to that. Her mother was gone. Dead. She had stayed behind so that they could escape. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

Aeothen looked up when a hand touched her shoulder. Esalar looked down at her, his eyes tired and weary, and held a piece of bread out to her. She took it but did not eat right way. She merely stared at it.

Her mother was gone. To the undying lands, as she said. She used to tell them stories of its beauty and how everything was in its right place there. She told them of the cool blue water and the lush ivy trees and the radiant sunlight.

She used to tell them of where their father was.

Aeothen never knew him, he passed on before she had been birthed, but her mother told her stories. He was a great man, handsome and strong and brave. He died protecting another, she said, but Aeothen never asked more. Now she wished she had. Now she wished she had done so much more.

"Aeothen, you must eat something."

She was brought out of her thoughts and looked over to Esalar. He was watching her encouragingly, but the pain was still evident in his eyes.

"How can I eat? Everyone's gone now," Aeothen said, tearing up at the end.

Esalar stood up and came over to her. He sat beside her, wrapping his arms around her and resting her head on his shoulder.

"We still have each other. We'll keep riding until we find the white rock and the blue river and we will be safe. Not everything is lost Aeothen," he said.

Aeothen nodded. He was right. They still had each other. And she remembered what her mother had told her. That she must be brave. Aeothen knew she would try to be, but how brave can one so small be?

She woke later, not knowing how long she had slept for, but darkness had once again fallen over the fields before them. Aeothen could not even see her own hand it was so dark, and she no longer felt Esalar beside her. She began to panic, moving around in the darkness searching with her hands, but she could not find him. It didn't occur to her for a while to use her voice and when she did, it came out in a frightened whisper.

"Esalar?"

Something stirred beside her and then she heard, "Aeothen? What is it?"

Aeothen let out a relieved sigh and felt her way over to where the voice had sounded from. She quickly found Esalar and curled up beside him again.

"Aeothen, what's wrong?" Esalar questioned.

"Nothing. I couldn't find you and I thought you were gone," Aeothen answered.

Esalar sighed. "I'm not going anywhere Aeothen," he said.

Aeothen looked up in his general direction. "Do you promise?" she asked.

"Yes, I promise."

Aeothen smiled in the darkness and her eyes began to drift closed again. She was on the edge of slumber when Esalar tensed beside her. Aeothen stirred and opened her eyes. It was a bit brighter, dawn must have been coming, but still dark enough for them to be hidden.

She looked up to Esalar and could now see that his face held a look of fear and concentration. "Esalar, what…?"

"Shh!"

Aeothen sat still, unmoving, and waited for whatever had him so nervous. A few moments passed and she wondered perhaps he was imagining things, but then she heard it. Hoof beats and mumbled voices.

Fear rose inside her and Aeothen too tensed. Whoever it was, they sounded like they were coming closer and there was more than one of them.

"Esalar! Nemarion, he's…!" she said in a hurried whisper.

"I know! Quiet!" Esalar interrupted.

They sat in silence and soon enough they heard the horses stop and the strangers dismount them. Esalar wrapped his arms around Aeothen tightly to protect her, and she turned away towards the rock wall, trying to block out the sound of the approaching outsider.

She heard Nemarion snort and step around a few times and then a strong, deep voice reached her ears.

"What do you see, Malnhir?"

They listened as someone shifted through the packs still attached to Nemarion's saddle, and a new voice, lighter than the last replied, "Enough provisions for a fortnight at least. Clothes for two. Small… like children."

"Tracks?" the strong voice asked again.

Aeothen heard more shuffling and grass being moved. "It's too dark to tell for sure, but they too seem small. What would children be doing out here?"

No answer came and then suddenly the strong voice seemed remarkably close. "Come out, we will not cause you any harm."

Aeothen looked at Esalar, who shook his head. She turned back to the rock wall and prayed to the Valar that they would survive till morn.

"We are of the Dunedain," the voice said. "We are no enemy to those who are innocent."

She felt Esalar relax slightly beside her, but his arms did not release her.

"We know you are hidden in the rock hollow. You can come out, or we can drag you."

Aeothen looked at Esalar in shock and he sighed. He let her go and moved away towards the entrance. When he was gone, Aeothen suddenly felt very alone and scared.

"What is your name boy?" the strong voice asked.

Aeothen wished that Esalar would just come back and they could pretend to be invisible again.

"Esalar."

"From where do you hail, young Esalar?"

"I lived in a village not far from the Chetwood forest a league back. It was attacked not one lunar cycle ago. My sister and I were the only ones who escaped."

"Where is this sister you speak of?"

Esalar reappeared at the opening of the hollow and held out his hand. Aeothen cautiously took it, and was lead out of her hiding place.

When she came into the open, she stood before five brown clad figures. They were all hooded so that Aeothen could not see their faces, which seemed to be more unnerving than the fact that they were strangers.

They all watched her with surprise as she stepped out, but she didn't know why.

"So, you tell the truth young Esalar. Tell me child, what is your name?" said one man, and she recognized him as the one with the stronger voice. He appeared to be the leader of the group, she could tell by the way the others stood behind him and made no move to interrupt or question.

"Aeothen," she answered, surprised to hear her voice break from nervousness.

The leader spoke again. "Aeothen, is it true that your home was attacked?"

She nodded. "It was attacked by the darkness. That's all I know," she said.

The leader turned to the others behind him and they nodded. He then turned back to Esalar. "The darkness? This is true?"

Esalar nodded.

The leader sighed. He seemed to be thinking about what to do with them and Aeothen felt the fear rise in her again.

"Where were you headed before we found you?"

"Our mother told us to head east until we saw the white rock and blue water. She said we would find help there," Esalar answered.

Aeothen hung her head at the thought of her mother's last words. Could it have only been a cycle ago? It felt like so many years had passed since that night.

A movement brought her attention back and she looked onto the face of the leader. He had drawn his hood back and she could now see a weathered face framed by dark black hair and green eyes. He looked wise and learned and Aeothen got the impression that he had seen many battles in his lifetime.

He knelt on one knee before them, so that he was at their height and he said, "I am Bethrohir, the leader of this clan. These are my fellow rangers. It is Rivendell you seek, the city of the elves. It is still leagues away; you will not make it there unharmed in these times. Travel with us, so we may keep you protected."

Esalar turned to Aeothen, but she did not know what to say. They did not even know that they were headed to Rivendell before these strangers appeared and she would much rather travel with those who knew these lands. Then again, these were five complete strangers, who she could not fully trust.

He turned back to Bethrohir. "If you take us to Rivendell unharmed, I will be forever in your service. My sister's safety is my only priority. If you can help us then it will make that much easier."

Bethrohir nodded. "We will rest here till morning light, then we will head east. We have seen what little supplies you carry, is there anything else that burdens you?"

Esalar nodded and entered the hollow once again. He came back with a small pack of food and their father's sword in his hand. Bethrohir looked at him questioningly. "That is quite a weapon for one so small. Why do you carry it?"

"It was my father's," Esalar said. "It was the only protection our mother could give us when we left. I would wield it if I had too."

Bethrohir smiled. "That is noble of you young Esalar. But take no worry; the use of that blade should not be necessary so long as you travel with our company."

Esalar nodded and rested it against the outer rock face. Bethrohir then turned to the rest of his company. "Take rest my brothers, for we do not depart till daybreak. Before you do, perhaps our guests should know who they ride with."

The others nodded and pulled back their hoods.

Bethrohir nodded to the man on his right, who had short graying hair and icy blue eyes. He wasn't as tall as the other men and he had a comforting quality to him, but he still seemed as fierce as the others. "This is Malnhir; he is second in command of this clan. He is strong for his age and takes true joy in story telling. He is the one you see when there is little else to do," Bethrohir said, a tone of laughter in his voice. Malnhir chuckled and Aeothen was pleasantly reminded of the elder in her village, whom answered all her questions with a tale.

"This is Denorthan, our best archer. His brother Denhathen, our watcher," Bethrohir continued gesturing to two similar-looking men behind him. They both had dark brown hair and brown eyes and Aeothen knew she would have a difficult time telling them apart.

"And finally, this is Aragorn, our youngest brother. He came to us not two winters ago."

Aeothen looked over to see the last man and it was true, he was the youngest. He was tall and strongly built, with dark brown hair and dark eyes like Denorthan and Denhathen, but he also had a more youthful look to him.

"It is best that we all get some rest. We will start early tomorrow," Bethrohir said.

Aeothen followed Esalar over to a quiet spot where they sat and watched the others, both either too nervous or too intrigued to sleep. Denhathen had perched himself a distance away from the group, his eyes scanning their surroundings for any sign of movement. Denorthan and Aragorn sat together, and soon they were eating a meal of bread, meat, and water. Bethrohir and Malnhir also sat together, though they were in deep discussion about something.

"Can we trust them?" Aeothen asked quietly.

Esalar nodded. "Yes, I think we can. Mama told me stories about the Rangers from the North. They have no home, just moving place to place as they please, helping those who are lost, and defending those who cannot defend themselves. I think we can rest easy with them," he told her.

"And Rivendell? It sounds familiar, but I can't remember where I've heard it," Aeothen said.

Esalar looked up at the sky. "I don't remember either. And I don't know why Mama would send us to the elves. We don't know anything about them other than from stories," he said.

They soon became lost in thought, but neither slept, and before they knew it the night had vanished and they were preparing to leave.

Days passed and Aeothen felt as if she was at home with the Rangers. Malnhir was like a grandfather to Aeothen and Esalar and he had told them many stories that they would have never heard from anyone else. Denorthan and Denhathen always kept them entertained, and Aeothen found it much easier to tell them apart than she first guessed. Aragorn was a good friend too and had been asked to teach both Esalar and Aeothen some defense. Although they did not have any weapons their size, Aragorn said they had done well for what they had been given. Bethrohir was a true leader and he never made them doubt their company or their way to Rivendell.

They had long since passed Weathertop, or Amon Sûl as Bethrohir had called it, and they were making their way to the Last Bridge, where they would cross the Hoarwell River (Mitheithel) and continue on their way to Rivendell.

The company stopped to rest for the night and Aeothen looked around at her surroundings. Esalar was already fast asleep as well as Denorthan and Denhathen. Bethrohir was keeping watch and Malnhir was sitting alone and reading what seemed to be a tarnished leather book. Seeing no other option than sitting by herself, Aeothen walked over to Aragorn, who was staring into the fire.

"Hello," she said quietly as she sat down beside him.

He looked over at her and smiled before he too said, "Hello."

Aragorn turned back to the fire and they sat in silence until Aeothen finally said, "Aragorn, may I ask you something?"

He nodded and turned his full attention to her.

"What is Rivendell like?" Aeothen asked.

Aragorn smiled. "I cannot tell you, Aeothen, for I have not been there myself."

She looked at him unbelievingly.

"I know. Being a Ranger I am supposed to have seen all these lands, am I not?"

Again they sat in silence before Aeothen spoke up again. "I miss my mother," she said sadly.

Aragorn looked at her with sympathy in his eyes. "What was she like?" he asked.

Taking a deep breath Aeothen began. "She was beautiful. She had golden hair, like wheat fields, and green eyes like mine. She raised my brother and me all on her own. My father died before my birth, she said he died protecting another. She was very proud of him. I remember she would tell us stories, about the elves. She said they were graceful and the most beautiful beings in Middle Earth. I wish she were still here."

A tear slipped away and rolled down her cheek. Aragorn hugged her tightly, the way Esalar would whenever she cried. Like a brother. That's when she realized that Aragorn wasn't just a friend; he was now her eldest brother, maybe not by blood but always in her heart. And inside she knew that Aragorn now knew he had a sister and that he would protect her from anything that came just like Esalar would.

When the day came for them to cross over the Last Bridge, Aeothen was bouncing with excitement. She was riding behind Aragorn and when she began to talk eagerly about meeting the elves, he laughed.

"Be patient, Aeothen, or you may scare them away!" he said cheerfully causing the rest of the company to join in their laughter.

They managed to control her long enough to pass over the bridge and travel towards Trollshaws, a small woods near the river Bruinen, the last river before Rivendell. The company stopped as the sun set and Bethrohir decided they should set up camp.

"We will arrive in Rivendell tomorrow before dusk. There is no need to hurry now, for I believe the danger has passed," he said stepping down from his steed.

Aragorn and Aeothen did the same and they all settled in for the night to come.

"Esalar, do you think maybe the elves knew Mama?" Aeothen asked him as they sat by the fire.

He looked at her strangely. "I'm not sure, why do you ask?

She shrugged. "I was just trying to figure out why she would send us here. Mama must have known someone in Rivendell if she expected them to let us in," she said.

Esalar thought about it for a moment. "I still don't know…maybe…"

"Bethrohir!"

Aeothen and Esalar looked up to see Denhathen run towards Bethrohir, who had stood up as soon as his name had been called. They whispered to each other quickly and it appeared that Bethrohir was becoming either more furious or more agitated with each word Denhathen spoke. When they finished, Denhathen ran back to his station and Bethrohir approached him.

"A band of orcs have been spotted near the boarder line of the forest. We passed by there earlier and they will pick up our scent," he said.

Aeothen and Esalar looked at each other, panic written across their faces. Even though Aeothen had never seen an orc, she now knew that they were "the darkness", or at least part of it, and the fear on both Esalar's and Bethrohir's faces confirmed it.

"Denhathen says they out number us, even if both of you fought, so our best chance is to escape to Rivendell as soon as possible."

They both nodded and began packing their things as quickly as they could. Aragorn and Denorthan brought their horses forward and Aeothen and Esalar mounted either of them. When their packs were secured, the others joined them, all had their bows drawn. Aragorn got up behind Aeothen and Denorthan did the same with Esalar, while Bethrohir and Malnhir mounted their own steeds and Denhathen mounted Nemarion. Aragorn and Aeothen had just pulled forward as an arrow whizzed over them.

Aeothen looked towards the forest where it seemed like shadows were creeping out of its trees. Those of the company who were not guarding Esalar or Aeothen, let their arrows lose, killing a few of the orcs that came too close. They ran forward and Aeothen felt her hair wipe across her face and the wind sting her cheeks. How could the orcs catch them on foot if they were going this fast?

She looked under Aragorn's arm to see Esalar and Denorthan riding fast beside them and the other three bringing up the rear. At this point they would make it to Rivendell without any injuries, Aeothen figured.

However as soon as she thought it, a yell pierced the night and Denhathen fell back off his horse. Bethrohir stopped and turned to help him, facing the entire group of orcs. Aragorn and Denorthan slowed their horses, both wanting to help their fellow men, but torn between doing so and protecting Aeothen and Esalar.

Aeothen saw Denhathen on the ground struggling to get to his feet, with his hand over his left arm. She cringed with she saw a black arrow protruding from it, but focused on what was going on instead. Denhathen drew his sword and parried a blow that would have severely injured him and Aeothen looked away as he plunged his blade into the chest of the orc.

Bethrohir got down from his horse and drew his sword as well and was soon joined by Malnhir. They fought against the onslaught of orcs, but they were outnumbered and they were growing weary. Aragorn shouted at her to hold the reins and he turned in his place, drawing an arrow and placing it on his bow. He drew back and let the arrow fly, and it hit its mark. Across from them, Denorthan was doing the same, his arrows piercing metal and killing instantly. They continued to do so, until Bethrohir shouted from the battle.

"Aragorn, take them and leave! Get them to Rivendell!" he shouted still in combat with a number of enemies.

Aragorn drew another bow and let it lose, stopping another attack. He did not stop firing and Bethrohir shouted again.

"Aragorn! Do it now!"

In Aeothen's eyes it all happened so slowly. An orc that was purposely avoiding the battle drew and arrow and fired at Denorthan's horse. The horse neighed in agony and fell to the ground, throwing Denorthan and Esalar with it.

Seeing an opening the orc drew an arrow again and fired.

It was the most terrifying thing Aeothen had ever seen. As the light left Denorthan's eyes and he fell, Aeothen screamed. Aragorn turned to her and saw Denorthan fall to the ground, an arrow stuck in his back.

"Denorthan!" he shouted alerting the others to the fall of their comrade.

The others looked around for a moment to find their worst fears coming true and they continued to fight even harder, their fury and pain fueling their attacks.

It was then that Aeothen remembered that Esalar had fallen too. She looked back and saw him getting to his feet, their father's sword raised in his hands.

"Aragorn!" she screamed.

He turned and saw Esalar and pushed the horse towards her brother. Aeothen watched as an orc approached Esalar and he swung, missing the creature by inches. The orc raised his weapon and slashed at Esalar, but it was blocked. Esalar held his sword high above his head, pushing against the orc's weapon. The orc seemed surprised and gave Esalar the opportunity to throw the beast away from him. As the orc stumbled backwards, Aragorn and Aeothen were stopped by another enemy. Aragorn quickly disposed of it and they looked back to see the orc Esalar was fighting knock the sword from his hand.

"Esalar!" Aeothen screamed.

Esalar stepped backwards and stumbled, falling to the ground. Aragorn raised his bow and shot the orc, hitting it in the arm. It did not seem to bother the monster and it raised its sword above her brother.

"ESALAR!"

The orc thrust its blade into Esalar's chest and twisted. Esalar screamed in pain and suffering and Aeothen did the same. Aragorn raised his bow again and shot the beast in the neck, sending it to the ground. Aeothen cried out for her brother, but he did not answer. He lay there motionless and Aeothen began to weep and shout for him.

"Aragorn!" Bethrohir called again. "Get her out of here!"

Aragorn stared at the body of the young boy who he had grown to love and respect, before turning his horse around and speeding towards the Bruinen.

Aeothen cried and sobbed as they flew past trees and darkness. She wanted to go back. She wanted to kneel by her brother's side and never leave. She wanted to protect him and make sure no one ever hurt him again. But she could never do those things.

He was gone.

She woke from the light, years later it seemed, and looked around at her surroundings. She was in a very bright room, with lavish furnishings and beautiful carvings along the walls. The bed in which she lay was covered in thick, snow-white sheets that felt like soft feathers against the skin of her arms. Sound came to her, the gentle flowing of water and the sweet, harmonious songs of birds.

Aeothen sat up in the bed, causing the sheets to fall from her front, reveling soft blue material. She looked at the clothing and stared in awe at the fine details of silver roses and petals embroidered in it. Never had she seen such a beautiful garment and to think that she was wearing it seemed less believable.

She then looked around the room again, trying to figure out where she was. Neither Aragorn nor any of the other company could be found, and Esalar was nowhere in sight. The thought of Esalar brought back a terrible dream. She dreamt that they had been ambushed and Esalar and Denorthan had perished, and that Aragorn had taken her away from the battle and her fallen brother. It was a terrible nightmare, one that she wished to forget.

Slowly and carefully, Aeothen got out of the bed and walked over towards a wide window, overlooking a stunning scene. To her left she saw a brilliantly flowing waterfall, tumbling down the stony, grey rock face and crashing to the bottom to meet the wide base of a river. Many elegantly carved buildings surrounded the area, all connected by arching bridges and walkways. In the distance, figures in blue walked around the small city, all with such grace Aeothen believed they were floating on air.

They were in Rivendell.

A new sense of adventure and excitement swelled inside her and Aeothen smiled. She peered through the gap, trying to spot Esalar amongst the grace and elegance of the elves. She could only imagine his wonder at seeing the elves and wished to join him as soon as she could.

Suddenly the door opened behind her and Aeothen spun around. Before her stood a beautiful maiden, with long, flowing black hair and pale white skin. The woman's eyes were blue like the river outside, matching her dark blue garments. They too were gracefully embroidered, but had a more mystical look on the woman, than Aeothen's did on her. The woman wore a silver circlet of leaves on her head and it was only then did Aeothen see the pointed ears the woman had. She was in fact not a woman, but an elf-maiden.

The elf smiled at her, with such beauty that Aeothen felt as if all evil had gone from the world. "Welcome to Imladris, small one. I am Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond. I am glad to see you've woken, for it has been three nights since you were brought here," Arwen told her, her voice gentle and melodic.

"My name is Aeothen. Where are the others?" she asked.

Arwen's smile turned sad and she walked further into the room. She placed a careful hand on Aeothen's shoulder and led her to the bed, where they both sat.

"I am afraid, my friend, that your company is no longer," Arwen said, her voice filled with sadness.

Aeothen looked at her unbelievingly and shook her head. "No, that was a dream. They're all here, Esalar and Bethrohir and Malnhir… they're not gone," she said.

"What you wish not to believe is true. Your company was attacked not far outside our lands and they perished in the fight. Only Lord Aragorn and yourself escaped."

Tears welled up in Aeothen's eyes and she began to cry. It was true, they were all gone!

Arwen hugged her and rocked her back and forth soothingly, as Aeothen wept onto her clothing. Aeothen eventually heard Arwen singing, in a language she could not understand, and assumed it was Elvish. Although she couldn't understand the words, Aeothen knew it was a song of grief and despair. It was a lament for her fallen friends and her lost brother. They had left to the undying lands, like her mother had not long ago. And they left her behind.

"We will see each other again… when the time is right… where everything and everyone is at peace."

Those were her mother's words. Could she have known? Had she known that her son would die trying to defend his companionship, or that her daughter would be left alone with the elves? Aeothen wondered and soon her tears stopped.

Arwen kissed the top of her head caringly. "Do not despair. Let the light enter your soul, and may you be filled with hope," she whispered.

Aeothen felt herself relax at those words. Perhaps she was not alone. Lady Arwen had said Aragorn had survived as well, and he was a brother to her. Even Lady Arwen herself seemed to consider Aeothen a friend and her show of affection and comforting had Aeothen already feeling safe with her.

Aeothen looked up at Arwen and smiled weakly. "Thank you, my lady. I miss them dearly, but my brother wanted me to be safe," she said. "May I ask where Aragorn is?"

"He left the city yesterday morn, to return to the camp. He wished to give his brothers a proper burial and to re-claim what had been lost. He will not return until late this eve," Arwen told her.

Aeothen nodded and looked at her feet, unsure of what she would do while she waited.

"Come," Arwen said drawing her attention. She stood up and held a hand out to Aeothen. "Let us find you some fresh clothes and we will see what food we can find to feed your hunger."

Aeothen took Arwen's hand and followed her from the room, leaving her thoughts of misery behind her.

A while later, Arwen and Aeothen sat near the river, sharing a book between them. Aeothen now wore ivy green robes and Arwen had plaited and wound her dark hair back to the base of her neck. Arwen said she looked like a real elf in her garb, but Aeothen just laughed. She would never compare to any of the wonderful beings that she passed that day.

"How do you say it again, Arwen?" Aeothen asked, looking at the beautiful elf beside her.

Arwen smiled. "Mára aurë. It means 'Hello'."

"And goodbye is…"

"Mára mesta."

Aeothen nodded and silently repeated the words in her head. She had asked Arwen if she could teach her Elvish, and she had happily agreed, and Aeothen was trying her best to remember. She had only been taught a few words that day, but Arwen promised that she would teach her more as each day passed. And as far as Aeothen knew, she would be in Rivendell for a very long time.

Arwen continued to smile and looked back down at the book. "This is the story of my people. One day, when you have learned enough, you can read it. Until then you may keep it in your room."

Aeothen looked down at the beautiful scripture, but could not find one word that she understood. There were many markings that she had never seen before, and wondered if she would ever learn all this.

Just then they heard the sound of a horse galloping through the gates and they looked towards it to see a young man dismount from his steed.

"Aragorn!" Aeothen exclaimed and she put the book down and ran towards the gates.

The elves she passed looked at her as she ran by, but they did not scorn her, only laughed and continued on. Soon she reached the gates and ran over to Aragorn, who had his back turned to her as he untied the packs. Aeothen launched herself onto him and he stumbled forward in surprise. She laughed and threw her arms around his neck so she wouldn't fall.

"Mára aurë, Aragorn!" she said and she heard him laugh.

"Who is this? A young elf-maiden?" he asked grinning and Aeothen jumped from his back. He turned around and embraced her in a hug. "I am so sorry Aeothen. I should have done something to protect him," he said more seriously.

Aeothen shook her head. "I'm just happy you're here. I have been filled with light and hope. I do not wish to grieve, so I will not."

Aragorn looked at her questioningly, as if wondering how she could possibly be so happy after just learning about the death of her brother.

"Arwen told me."

"Arwen?"

Aeothen turned around to find Arwen standing behind them, a smile gracing her perfect lips. Aragorn straightened and bowed to her deeply, something that Aeothen found quite odd, seeing as neither Arwen nor anyone else had told her to do the same.

"My lady," Aragorn said. "Thank you for helping her. She is my only company now and it grieved me to think her sad."

Aeothen looked at him, realization filling her eyes. It had not occurred to her that she had not been the only one to be left alone. Aragorn had lost his brothers too, and now all they had was each other.

"She is a spirited child and I have taken a liking to her myself. I feel that her pain is mine, and it was the least I could do to help her," Arwen said smiling too.

Aeothen watched as Aragorn and Arwen regarded each other, but she soon interrupted. "Aragorn, Arwen said that you had gone to retrieve what was lost. Did you find anything?"

He pulled his gaze from Arwen to look at her. "The orcs took most of the provisions. Whatever food and water was left is now gone. And we didn't have many other things to be thieved. Except…"

Slowly he reached around the horse and pulled out a long black sheath. Aeothen froze and stared at it, not wanting to speak, not wanting to breathe.

"I found it in the brush not far from the camp. They must have dropped it as they fled," Aragorn said solemnly.

Aeothen still did not move, her body had unattached itself from the rest of her mind.

"It is yours."

Aeothen felt a hand on her shoulder and saw Arwen standing behind her. "You do not have to fear this, my friend. It was wielded by great men before you. You must not use it if you like, for it will have no use within these walls, but you must accept that it now belongs to you."

Aeothen waited a moment before nodding. Aragorn smiled at her and knelt before her. "Your bravery and strength is like none I have ever seen. I am honored to call you sister."

Aeothen hugged him again, knowing that she was not alone. She had a brother who loved her, a home to shelter her, and a family to watch over her. She would grow into a woman, with her family of men and elves to guide her. She would learn to someday wield that sword and would become a fierce warrior. She would someday become a part of something so great, that it would gamble her life. She would someday fall in love and swear to fight every evil that had ever taken away someone from her.

Someday she would know the truth.