Iladya wanders around through the valley of Rivendell. Her dress hugs her waist before sweeping elegantly after her over the ground. Lord Elrond had been kind to offer her these dresses that she simply couldn't refuse. It is something she fails to get used to as it is odd not to wear her usual tunic.
It has been weeks since her conversation with Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel. The dream slowly began to fade, no matter how desperate she tried to remember. The Elf walks onto the bridge she found a moon ago. A bridge is hidden from the valley and it ends near a small lake with waterfalls. She gently inhales the scent of nature while closing her eyes. It feels as if she never went to War. All her concerns and worries seem to die away in Imladris. She lowers and sits on the edge of the bridge, her feet dangling just above the water.
     Iladya gazes at the beauty of nature, noticing her ears move back and forth. She stays still and concentrates on her surroundings. She hears footsteps approaching, footsteps that are heavier than those of an Elf. She glances over her shoulder and her eyes meet those of a man with shaggy brown hair. She rises to her feet in an elegant way. The man watches the Elf rise to her feet as he feels his breath hitch in his throat.
     "Do you want to be alone here? Shall I leave?" Iladya questions, fiddling with the sleeves of her dress. He holds up his hand and speaks.
     "No," he answers, slowly approaching Iladya. "I was told two Elves were searching for me," he continues. "And that one of them could be found here." Iladya stares at the man, vaguely recognizing the features on his face. Then she thinks about his words: I was told two Elves were searching for me.
      "You," she pauses. "You are the Ranger from the North." Her heart skips a beat because he finally stumbled onto their paths. He nods before Iladya drops a curtsy.
     "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Strider," she continues. He takes the final step and stands before her.
     "What name do you carry, my Lady?" he questions.
     "My name is Iladya, daughter of Thranduil," Iladya answers, extending her hand. Strider's eyes widen for a brief moment before he gently gets a hold of her hand and presses a gentle kiss on her knuckles.
     "Princess Iladya," he says and bows his head. Iladya chuckles, "Please, no formality." Strider chuckles while he agrees.
     "As you wish, my Lady. Lord Elrond has informed me about your search for me," he speaks, walking to the end of the bridge.

''Welcome, my Lord,'' the guard greets and bows his head, ''Lord Elrond awaits you.'' Strider nods and walks to Elrond's office.
     ''You called for me, Lord Elrond?'' Strider asks. Elrond turns around and faces the man.
     ''I did,'' he says and gestures to the stool. Strider sits down as he waits for what Elrond has to say.
     ''Two elves of the Woodland Realm passed our borders weeks ago. One of them spoke to me that they were searching for a Ranger,'' Elrond speaks, ''they are here in Rivendell and they mean no harm. You should see for yourself.'' Aragorn nods as he slowly comprehends Elrond's words.
     ''Where can I find them?'' he asks.

"Why did you search for me?" he continues to question, gazing at the lake. Iladya casts a glance aside, almost forgetting her purpose of being in Rivendell.
     "Our father sent us," Iladya answers, shifting her gaze to the water. "He believes that you will grow a great man because your father was a great man." Strider looks aside, mentally questioning why the King would send his children away.
     ''I do not know if it is my place to question,'' he pauses, waiting for her reaction. Once he sees her nodding, he dares to actually form his question out loud. ''May I ask why the King sent his children away?'' Iladya had seen this question coming as soon as her answer left her mouth.
     ''We fought in the Battle of the Five Armies, near the Lonely Mountain,'' she speaks. ''As he retreated a friend of mine turned against him... He was about to swing his sword at her but we stopped him. We, too, turned against him. His children turned against him.'' She pauses for a moment, gazing at the water falling into the lake. ''After the War was over, we met again and we all three realized we couldn't return, so he gave us a purpose, which is you.''
     ''My apologies,'' he replies, but Iladya waves away his apology.
     ''You have no impact on the situation, Strider,'' Iladya says. ''The bond between us and our father has never been strong... Ever since our mother died.'' Strider feels a sense of compassion rushing through his veins. He watches her attitude change before she questions him.
     ''What do you do, Strider?'' she questions. ''As a ranger?'' He watches her wall build as no emotion is to be read in her eyes. He casts her a glance before answering her question.
     ''I have protected the borders and I served during Wars,'' he replies. Iladya takes a look at him, stating that he doesn't show any age. She has too many questions to ask, yet she restrains herself from doing so. She mustn't catch him off guard so soon.
     ''Can I offer you our service?'' she questions without much thought. Strider tilts his head at the rather odd request.
     ''What service would a prince and princess do a ranger?'' he questions with a soft chuckle.
     "Allow us to travel with you," she suggests.
     "I will allow your company," he says. Their hands brush, causing them to look down at their hands. Strider's fingers reached for her fingers as if they needed to touch again. Iladya intertwines her fingers with his, not daring to look at him. Strider lets out a shaky breath, not wanting to let go if he were honest. He remembers the dream he was having night after night. He remembers the affectionate words he spoke to her. He remembers the face that went along. The very face of the person standing beside him.
     "Let us return to the valley," Iladya breaks the silence. "My brother would be pleased to meet you." She lets go of his hand as if nothing has happened. Although she knows all too well that he is the man who has been in her dream. She knows he will be part of her life.
     Strider follows Iladya who is searching for her brother. She finds her brother in the room where the shards of Narsil rest.
"Legolas," Iladya calls softly. Legolas glances over his shoulder, his eyes landing on Iladya for a brief moment before shifting to the man next to her. The two males bow their heads.
     "Legolas, this is the Ranger in the North," Iladya introduces. "And Strider, this is my brother Legolas." Strider simply nods as he somewhere still finds it bizarre that he stands with the prince and princess of the Woodland Realm.
     "It is a pleasure to meet you," Legolas says. It is not long before Elrohir requests their presence at the dining table.

The company of three has been staying in Rivendell a couple of weeks after their first encounter. Strider has taken Legolas and Iladya as trustworthy companions. He entrusts them with his real name, revealing who he is and what he is destined to become.
''Lady Iladya,'' Strider breathes once he recognizes her form from afar. Iladya glances over her shoulder, averting her gaze from the sky.
''My Lord,'' Iladya greets softly, waiting for Strider to approach her. Within these weeks, Strider and Iladya have grown a special relationship. As if an invisible force attracted them to one another.
''What keeps you awake at this hour?'' Strider questions. Iladya looks up at him as he looks down at her.
''I could ask you the very same question,'' she says, reaching for his hand.
''I failed to fall asleep,'' he replies, his fingers entangling with hers.
''What is on your mind?'' Iladya continues. Strider brings their hands to his heart. ''I cannot allow you to carry my burden,'' he reasons. She lays a hand on his cheek.
''Your burden will be my burden,'' she whispers. He leans into her hand, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
     "Aragorn," he breathes. "My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and thus—" "Heir to the throne of Gondor," Iladya finishes, which catches Aragorn by surprise.
     "How did you know?" he questions suspiciously, squinting his eyes.
     "I have spoken with Lord Elrond about you and he informed me that you had chosen exile to Gondor," Iladya explains calmly. "And that was when I connected the dots that you were the one to inherit the title of King. I did not want to scare you away. I hope you can forgive me." She lets go of his hand, feeling ashamed all of a sudden. Aragorn watches her for a moment before placing his fingers underneath her chin to gently force her to look at him.
"I forgive you," he whispers and sends her a faint smile.
"Why do you fear the past?" she questions cautiously. "You are Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself." She takes notice of sadness flashing in his eyes. It is noticeable that he is conflicted with himself.
     "The same blood flows through my veins, that same weakness,'' Aragorn sighs. Iladya lies her hand on his cheek, caressing his cheek with her thumb.
     "Your time will come," she replies. "And I will be there with you. I will bind myself to you."
"Do you feel it as well? This attraction toward each other?" Aragorn questions, gazing into her eyes.
"Yes," she replies. "My guesses are on the dream I had a couple of moons ago." He tilts his head, surprised to hear this as he too experienced a dream similar to it.
"Dream? Do tell," Aragorn encourages. Iladya lets out a soft chuckle. "This is what I remember of it, I remember standing in a hall with Gandalf, my brother, you, and a few others. I said that I was leaving for Minas Tirith and that we set up a point to meet after the battle because it was too risky to be seen together." The ranger is stunned by how similar the dream is.
"Then we were having similar dreams because I have dreamt this as well," he replies. Iladya nods and mentions, "This must mean something."

"Do you have to hold the string between your second and third finger?" Iladya questions, observing the way Aragorn holds his bow.
     "Yes, how would you hold it?" he questions. Iladya walks up behind him and starts correcting his hand to how Iladya holds her bow. Aragorn looks at Iladya from the corners of his eyes.
     "This is how I grip the string," she says and steps away. Aragorn fires the arrow and it thuds home into the tree. "It is quicker if you need to fire several arrows." Aragorn watches Iladya fire several arrows and they thud home in a neat row.
     "Wow," he breathes. "Is that your bow?" Iladya nods, handing him her bow. "It was my mother's." While she retrieves the arrows, Aragorn examines the design of the bow.
     "It is one of a kind," he replies. "If I may ask, what did happen to your mother?" She pauses the process of pulling out an arrow. Aragorn watches her shoulders slump, realizing it is an unwise question to ask. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—" "It's okay. During the War with the Kingdom of Angmar, we fought in Gundabad. The Orcs killed her and my father couldn't bear the pain to set up a grave. He receded from the world, wanting to protect his kin and land."
"My condolences," he says, walking up to her. He lays his hand on her shoulders and pulls her into his chest.
"It feels like we have lost our father the day our mother died," she adds in a soft murmur.
"I'm sorry you had to endure this," he says, pressing his lips on her hair.
"Eventually, you learn to cope and live your way around," she smiles, even though he cannot see it. She lies her hand on his hand.
     "I did not mean to bring this up, forgive me," he apologizes. Iladya turns around in his arms and looks up at him.
     "It is alright," she mentions. "As I said, I learned to live with it."
     "I will be there for you," Aragorn whispers. "And I will bind myself to you."
     "You used my words against me," she chuckles, softly slapping his chest.
     "There are no lies spoken, my Lady," Aragorn chuckles. "I know," she whispers. He pulls her closer and presses a kiss on her temple.