The Exile's Daughter

To The North

It all seemed so unreal.

We stood in the courtyard outside the House of Elrond, cloaks drawn around us in the misty pre-dawn light. Aragorn had decided travelling on horseback would be the best option, so Calanon was saddled behind me, my pack secured over his pure white back.

Elrond, Arwen and Glorfindel were the only three to see us go. Even most of the elves didn't know I was leaving with my friends, as Elrond had thought it best that as few people as possible knew of my decision to take up the duty of fighting alongside men.

Aragorn and Arwen had already said a proper farewell earlier that morning, I knew, but the lady gave all of us a hug anyway. She lingered a little in the man's strong arms, with her father's frowning gaze boring into her back.

I had grown to like Glorfindel, and I was saddened to leave such a dependable friend behind, but I was determined not to dwell on all I would lose leaving here. He squeezed my upper arms with his hands and smiled. "Good luck", he said simply. I forced a smile onto my face.

"I'll be alright. I'm stubborn, you know".

"I recall", the Elf Lord said dryly, raising an eyebrow.

After Glorfindel had said goodbye to the other two, he and Arwen stepped back. Elrond clasped his hands in front of him, ready to speak.

"The future of the Dûnedain race is in great danger. You must reach your people, Aragorn, before it is too late. I fear even then the odds you will face are not a cause for hope. But hope you must." He dropped his gaze from Aragorn and looked at all three of us, taking. "Draw courage from each other." He sighed then, and I knew he would speak to me last. "Nesseldë?"

"Yes my Lord?" I answered, trying my best to gaze at Elrond unfalteringly. He gave a sad smile and spoke.

"Come back alive".

The threat of never returning hung over me with such a dangerous journey ahead, but I could not think like that. I surprised everyone by stepping forwards and throwing my arms around the Lord of Imladris. After a second, he hugged me back, then released me, stroking back my hair with his capable hand.

"I will."

He hesitated for a second, then reached into his cloak, taking out a small box. "This is yours." I opened the box and unwrapped the silk around a fine silver clasp. Looking closer, I saw a familiar symbol etched subtly into the circular object – the eight-pointed Feanorian star.

"The heraldry of your house." Elrond explained. "Your father gave this to me before he left. It is time it was returned to its true owner. It will not give you away, for elvish lore is long forgotten in the eyes of most men, but it shows your friendship to those who know."

"Thank you, Lord" Elrond stepped forwards and replaced my plain clasp with the Feanorian one. I noticed the etching glint like diamond as the light of the rising sun shone upon it.

***

A black leather jerkin sat atop a dark green tunic, the laces of which were visible above the leather and tied tightly. The loose, wide sleeves were bound to my wrist by my brother's black armguards. On my belt my light twin swords sat either side of my hips, sheathed in the same dragon skin as the handle; my brother's dagger sat behind the right sword in its leather sheath. My slender black trousers fitted perfectly, and my boots of supple leather were laced up to my knees. Over all went my black cloak and brand-new quiver, designed to sit comfortably on the shape of my back. As we turned out of fair Imladris, I pulled my wide hood up against the drizzle, my hand brushing against the Feanorian star etched into the clasp of my cloak.