The Exile's Daughter

Final Preparations

"I am still not happy about this".

I was sitting in Elrond's study, Legolas and Aragorn beside me, looking steadily into the eyes of the lord who was now my protector. "You said it yourself, lord. Nesseldë's fate is not to sit here in peace and safety awaiting our return. She is to fight beside us, and if not now, when?" Legolas argued stubbornly.

Once he and Aragorn had decided I was serious about joining them, they had argued against my wishes no further, instead helping me to prepare, giving me last-minute training and advice on the best ways to survive and kill in the likely event we were caught up in the midst of a skirmish. It was our last night in Rivendell and, for what felt like the hundredth time that week, we had all been called into Lord Elrond's office. He had been resistant to my leaving since we had told him that the three of us would be travelling out to aid the Dúnedain, and it seemed he was still not abandoning the attempt to keep me safe under his watchful eye.

"I know well her fate. I also know that she is yet inexperienced, and fresh from a trauma so deep it consumes her mind in ways she cannot control".

"We will be with her." Legolas countered. "Do you think, my Lord, that we will let our dear friend deal with such a task alone? I swear I will take care of her, however her past hurts her, however much guidance she needs to counter her inexperience."

Elrond gave Legolas a calculating look. He stared back determinedly and eventually the elf lord broke his gaze with a sigh. "Many elves older and wiser have less honour and kindness in their hearts than you, Thranduilion. Yet you cannot shield her from all harm, no matter how hard you try."

"She is skilled with her weapons. She needs real experience now. We cannot give her that in the safety of Imladris" Aragorn added simply. He still had things to pack, and I knew it irked him that this pointless meeting was eating into his limited time with Arwen.

"Your father would never forgive me if I sent you into the hands of those who killed him. They are still out there, Nesseldë. I sense it."

"My father is not here, Lord Elrond" I sighed exasperatedly. "You said it yourself – he was killed, and if I had not been lucky, I would be lying in the ground beside him. Those who slew him may still be out there, but I am alone now. I value your protection, I want you to know that, but I am still my own person – an independent person capable of making up her own mind! If I find those men, it is them who will be afraid."

Elrond sighed deeply. "There is no persuading you, is there?"

"We did try but she is not to be swayed." Legolas muttered.

"I know you did. I suppose I will have to accept it. You are going"

"Yes", I said. "I am leaving. I will not be alone, though. Your own sons will be beside me; so will Aragorn and Legolas, and the Dúnedain are good men."

"They are", Lord Elrond said. He smiled with effort. "You are as wilful as my own children, and they have never been taken off course. But you must take care, child. You are still healing from what happened."

"I will be thinking about what happened to my family until the uttermost end of Arda. They did not get an opportunity to fight, so I must do it for them. For all free people."

"You have your father's spirit." Elrond smiled unwillingly and stood to get the door. "May his fire serve you well in the years to come."

***

Dinner was eaten, the final few items packed. I stood under the Bruinen's waterfall, still my favourite place in Rivendell since that first night here with Bilbo's stories and the heat of cocoa warming my heart. The sound of the rushing river washed over me, and I closed my eyes, feeling tiny flecks of cool spray hitting my uncovered hands and face. A breeze made my deep blue dress flutter around my ankles, the long sleeves whipping against my waist.