Prologue

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Disclaimer: I na owny nothink.

She clutches the tree as the world spins around her. Her breathing is uneven and she knows she is barely conscious. Through the trees, she can barely make out a wall of rock, looming above her, the light of the early morning sun just sliding around the edge.

She staggers forward and hits the wall with a pained groan, the pain in her head growing worse. She faintly registers that she can barely feel her abdomen any longer.

Her long brown hair is coated in sweat, grime, and blood. She pushes it out of her face before she begins to slide along the face of the rock. She reaches a slight bend and when she turns the corner, the relief of seeing the elven city gives her a small burst of strength as she continues down the slope towards Imladris.

She thinks she can hear her pursuers behind her, but she could be imagining it. She can't be certain anymore. The noise of the river is too loud.

And then she hears it, the faint sound of laughter.

But of course... she could be imagining that too.

The elven party near the river Bruinen laugh merrily. They are celebrating the birthday of a family member. The celebration is ground to an abrupt halt when their sensitive ears pick up a faint cry. They all look at each other and then across the bank of the river.

They see a figure descending the steep slope opposite them and that it moves at an unnaturally slow pace. Suddenly, it collapses, and because of the extreme angle of the slope, he, she or even it, rolls the rest of the way down, coming to a stop just a few feet away from the Bruinen.

There is shocked silence for a moment, before two of the ellyn strip off their outer robes and wade into the river. When they reach the other side, they kneel next to the prone figure. The small group of elves sees them glance at each other in surprise before picking up the... it must be either be an elf or a human... and carrying him or her across the river. With no small amount of difficulty.

When they reach the other side, the elves crowd forward and peer and the medium sized bundle in their arms and seeing that it is indeed an elf... and an elleth nonetheless.

Several gasps of shock and horror travel around the group as the whispers start. Those who can see her, see a face, covered in no small amount of blood, as well as most of her torso.

They cannot yet tell if she is dead. The two ellyn carrying her, push through the crowd towards the healing houses.

If she is indeed alive, her only chance of survival will be Lord Elrond.

Elrond gazes down at the unconscious elleth. Her breathing is shallow, as are the chances of her survival. He cannot but wonder if she will make it. For now all he can do is wait. Either she wakes up, or passes on to the Halls of Mandos.

A/N: Ehhhh... *awkward slide*

Rousdower out_

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