The Exile's Daughter

Before the Morning

I heard a gasp behind me. Raina was sitting on the floor, her possessions bundled up in a blanket beside her. There was something crawling up the leg of her skirt. She tried to move away, and I moved towards her, but Legolas reached her first, bending to brush the spider off. She still looked nervous, however, and he chuckled, picking it up and setting it free on the bark of a tree in the nearby woods. "It will not hurt you."

"You never know." The girl said shyly. "Da usually takes them out for me."

I sat down with them both, offering her a small slice of meat saved from dinner, hours before any of this had happened. She nibbled it unenthusiastically.

"I hate them too." Legolas smiled.

"You have reason." She blushed. "Mirkwood has huge spiders."

He grimaced. "The little ones move just the same. Nasty creatures."

We sat in silence for a few moments. I thought I knew what was on the girl's mind. "Your father and uncle are fine warriors."

"I don't like it when they leave." She choked. Legolas and I exchanged a sad glance. He reached for her hands and I wrapped an arm around her.

"I know." was all either of us could murmur, while the child between us cried.

All at once it was time for them to leave. Before they could farewell their menfolk, I rose and rushed over to Ancalimë, Almarien and Firiel. All were pale with exhaustion, but resolute. These were bold women, I tried to convince myself. Surely their strength would see them through.

Without a word Ancalimë stepped forwards and pulled me into a hug. I held on to her for dear life, wishing there were another way than this agony. "Keep them safe." I said to all three once she had stepped back at last.

I hugged Almarien next, barely stretching over her stomach to reach her, then Firiel.

"All of you, after everything I have seen, and everything that has been done to me, from my first day here, you..." I trailed off and sighed. How did one put into words the weight on the heart of such kindness never repaid? "I will never forget it." All three shook their heads, an almost identical gesture. We smiled wanly at each other once we had run out of words.

All too soon they were ready to leave. Glorfindel led the group, his bright hair tied back and hidden with his dark hood, and two of the reinforcements brought up the rear, with Firiel between them, her sword bared in her hand. Their horses snorted, eager for the off. Raina cast a glance back at me. Wide-eyed and agonisingly young she was, her dark hair stirring in the wind and her hands clenched on her bridle. I gave her an encouraging nod, a slight smile, and she almost returned it. Her eyes moved away from me, and I knew who she sought. I moved back, allowing her some privacy to look her last upon her father, brother and uncle. 

Aragorn had asked Beriadan and Tar, the only two fathers among his most faithful men, to go with those they loved. However, they had insisted on staying with him, and I knew they would die before forsaking their chieftain. Assured by Glorfindel's vow to protect their families, they had no further worries but Aragorn.

I made my way back into the meeting hut, breathing shakily. Outside, Legolas was to be heard comforting the men. There were tears, snatches of conversation, and, in my peripheral hearing, the faint beat of hooves upon the ground. They were going... going... gone.

I only hoped it would be enough.

I sunk to the floor, took out the pencil and parchment that Elrohir had let me borrow and, hesitantly, with many crossings out, started to write. I had no idea how to put this into words, but many things must be said, if all was to go ill for us.