“AWAKE, FAITH!” I groaned at the familiar, deafening voice and reluctantly left my dreams. “I am awake!” I snapped. The elf took several steps back at my outburst, “I see. And what has caused the Elven Princess to be in such a mood on this fine morn?” I gave him the you-are-most-definitely-crazed-look. “What in the blazes do you mean? Firstly, we are riding to war. ‘Tis not a fine morn. Secondly, I am tired. Thirdly, you need not have shouted in my ear to wake me. And fourthly, I am most displeased with you for the reasons that I have just stated.” He chuckled and neatly caught the bag that I threw at him. I scowled before he returned the bag and presented me with a look of concern, “You are tired? Why? Did you not sleep well?” I lifted myself from the ground and glared at the Prince. “If I had slept well, do you think I would be in need of rest?” He held up a hand in defeat, “I see. So you did not sleep well. May I inquire the reason?” “You may inquire yet I do not have to answer,” I retorted. He rolled his eyes, “Princess Faith, why did you not rest well?” I sighed, irritated. “I did not sleep well for reasons beyond my control.” Legolas raised an eyebrow, “Beyond your control?” I tossed my hair back, “Yes, beyond my control.” He grinned and I knew a half-hearted jest was coming. I braced myself for it and turned to face him. “Were you thinking of one you love?” I blinked, “Yes.” And I was. My sister. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at his broad smile. “Was it a certain Lord?” I frowned, utterly confused. I stared into the distance for several moments, trying to grasp what he said. And then the words sunk in. I stood there, still as stone, for a second with widened eyes in complete horror at the mere possibility of such. Images blurred and I fainted dead on the ground.

*

“Faith? Faith! FAITH!” I was rocked out of my dream world, being shaken violently at the shoulders. Pain tingled in my cheek and I knew I had been slapped. Anger boiled in me as I left the blackness. Legolas sighed with relief and then winced. I stumbled to my feet as he nursed his jaw. I unclenched my fist and smiled, “You deserved that, Prince. That was entirely uncalled for. I hate you!” He attempted at a dry smile, “That I already knew. I take it from your reaction that it was not the Lord that kept you awake.” I shuddered, “No, you ill-minded idiot! I swear that all companions on this journey are insane! UTTERLY INSANE!” I turned at a tap on the shoulder. “Might I ask you what you were yelling of, Princess?” I shrieked and recoiled quickly at the sight of the Marshall. Legolas burst into laughter as I attempted to regain my composure. “I was speaking of various companions.” I shot a look at the Prince and followed by one tossed at the Lord Eomer. I then stormed off, towards the horses. I accepted the offered apple from Aragorn and crunched into it angrily. Aragorn winced as I threw the core to the ground, as it shattered into pieces, rebounding, fragments now scattered on the grass. He glanced doubtfully at me, “Angry?” “How could you ever guess?” I turned to him. He gestured over to Legolas, “What has he done now?” he asked. I pondered his question mockingly, “Perhaps it was waking me inhumanely, or perhaps it was startling me to such an extent I fainted, or perhaps it was slapping my cheek. Take your pick of one of those options I just gave. And you will have your answer.” He blinked before grinning curiously, “How did he startle you?” I put up a hand to silence him, “Ask not.” I shuddered once more at the memory before packing up my items, mounting my horse. I threw one last glare at the Prince who shrugged apologetically. I tossed my hair before touching the Star-Jewel, tightly fastened around my neck. I turned my eyes to the road ahead. Battle and war we approached. Behold! A constructive way of releasing all my anger. Bring it on.

*

“Who were you thinking of, Faith?” I glared at Legolas before turning my sight back onto the path. He chuckled, “Fine, ignore me then!” I nodded swiftly and tossed my hair once more. That Elven Prince would be most certainly be blessed if he lived to see the leaves of Mirkwood again. “Legolas!” He glanced over his shoulder, “Yes, Princess?” I smirked at him; “I hope you will understand when you are banned from Rivendell for the next thousand years or so. Depending on my mood when I return.” He returned my smirk and then frowned, “So you are not leaving Middle-Earth then?” I rolled my eyes, “Leggie, you dare bring up that topic again and I will find reason to kill you. ‘Tis my life, not yours. You should know that by now, Leggie.” His eyes narrowed, “Call me not that.” “Leggie, Leggie, Leggie!” I grinned joyfully. I had forgotten about that name. He attempted to wave my comment off carelessly, but I could tell it annoyed him. “Oh, I apologise, Leggie. I knew not that you disliked that name. Leggie,” I taunted. “It is quite strange that members of the Elven Royal family of Mirkwood and Rivendell could be so immature,” Gandalf commented, ending our jests. We continued on for a few moments in silence, “From pure curiosity, what caused you to think up of such a name, Faith?” “I cannot claim that honour! ‘Twas a great one that created such a name. ‘Twas not I!” My eyelids dropped slightly and I bowed my head. “And that one was?” I smiled weakly at the dwarf, “The Evenstar of her people. Fair face, fair voice, fair mind. She held statecraft and power, yet merriment and joy. The most perfect of all elves.” “Did you ever meet her?” I turned to the ignorant Marshall. “Yes, many times, beyond count. It is because of her death that my hate of the slaves of the Dark Lord is so bitter. ‘Tis even the reason that I am on this quest. To gain revenge and to cast down Sauron. Yet it is with Ringwraiths that I hold my grudge. ‘Tis not a grudge, actually. ‘Tis a hate more powerful than anything.” “She must have been your friend,” Lord Eomer commented thoughtfully. My voice changed, floating, drifting upon memories far away, ones long past, “Yes. My friend. All that knew her loved her. Yet she was my dearest friend. My dearest friend.” “Whom was her father?” “Lord Elrond of Rivendell.” He frowned slightly, “But that is…” I nodded slowly, “My father.” “Then Evenstar was…?” “Yes. My sister.” At those words, my sister, I jolted back to the present and clenched my fist, furious at myself for revealing so much of my private thoughts. I purposely ignored his sympathetic gaze and tossed my glinting hair out of my face, breaking out of the group and cantering at the front, briefly touching Aragorn’s shoulder comfortingly as I passed. I rode closer to the war. Closer to the black horizon. A tear slid down my cheek and I briefly closed my eyes, dwelling in my own thoughts, my own dreams. I raised my eyelids to challenge the black cloud. They would pay. They would pay dearly.