"What was the War of the Ring like?" Aderthon asked Nimwing as they strolled through Amon Loth on the way to her home.

Nimwing gave a sad smile. "It was war." She turned to face him as they walked. "It was death and evil and destruction. But it was also a time of heroism and valor."

"As Legolas mentioned of you," he grinned, pointing with his finger at her heart.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and chuckled. "I was a foot soldier, Aderthon."

He nodded and decided to try a new tactic. "Who was Carmegil?"

Her face brightened instantly, but a sad smile played at her lips as well. "A warrior beyond what we see in Middle Earth today. A remnant of ages past."

"Nice riddles," he smirked.

She laughed for awhile. "Nay, not riddles. Carmegil was King Oropher's Captain and greatest friend. He was a warrior of incredible prowess who fought in the War of Wrath alongside the Ainur." Nimwing closed her eyes for a moment. "He used to tell me stories. He'd describe the wondrous halls of Doriath, the great forests and the bright stars of those days. For he and Oropher had grown up in Doriath together."

Aderthon smiled to himself. "He sounds like a great and kind man."

She gave a long laugh at that. "Great? Yes. Kind? On his good days and only to his friends." She chuckled still. "He was the only one King Thranduil tolerated speaking in such a way."

Aderthon found himself enchanted by her laughter. He longed to hear it again. But for now he supposed he would be content to hear her voice. "Did he die?"

"No!" She shook her head. "After we helped the Lady Galadriel clear Dol Guldor, once Mirkwood was freed, he sailed West as he always longed to do."

"Perhaps he has met my parents, then." He gave a tiny smile.

Nimwing nodded. "Perhaps." She stopped in front of a small house with large gardens. "Here we are."

Aderthon and Nimwing entered the house. Inside it was decorated with many potted plants, flowers and succulents of all kinds. A long sword sat on her mantelpiece, and a bow of yew hung above it. The matching quiver lay against the fireplace, stocked with arrows.

"Good looking weapons," Aderthon commented appreciatively.

Nimwing ducked into a side room but she called out her response. "All of them have seen combat." When she returned it was with three large saddle packs. "Clothes are the most important, followed by my collectibles." She sighed. "I fear I cannot bring my plants."

"I'll start on your collection," Aderthon volunteered, taking one of the three packs.

She smiled and nodded. "Wrap the breakable items in these cloths." She tossed him a bundle of rags.

As she retreated into her bedroom to begin packing clothes, Aderthon took a look around the room. He found several small glass animals. There was a fox, and a bird, and a fish, plus many others. He decided to start by packing these.

Nimwing, deep inside her closet, began choosing dresses and tunics for her trip and stay in Minas Tirith. Shoes, too, she made sure to stuff into a saddle bag. She decided not to worry too much about what to bring; she assumed she could send for more things later, or buy new clothing. Her armor of Mirkwood was packed in a special, separate bag. She kept it purely for emergencies and nostalgia.

By the time she had finished and come into the main room, Aderthon was examining her daggers. She had several of all sizes and types.

"Here." Nimwing took them from Aderthon. "I can fit them." She slipped them inside the bag with her armor for they were another rarely used set of items.

"Well, is that everything you think you need?" Aderthon looked around her small house.

She smiled. "Almost."

Aderthon watched as she grabbed the sword and slipped a scabbard onto her belt. With a flourish, she sheathed the blade. "And one more thing." Nimwing then attached the quiver to her back and across her chest. She picked up her bow along with two packs. She allowed Aderthon to take the other two.

"Shall we?" He smiled and opened the door.

Nimwing nodded. "We shall!" As she walked out the door, she took a path to the right. "My horse is at a stable towards the far side of Amon Loth."

"Mine is near Legolas' house," said Aderthon. "Let us fetch your horse and then find mine and bid goodbye to the lord."

They did as planned, finding Nimwing's white mare and strapping three of the saddlebags to her flank. Her horse was a swift steed, built for agility and speed, not war. Her horse's name was Dínen.

Once Nimwing was satisfied that the packs were on correctly and not harming Dínen, she attached the lead rope and they walked to where Aderthon had stabled Histo. It was nearly lunch, and the pair were eager to get on their way. Histo, right where Aderthon had left him, was patient as they attached the last of Nimwing's saddlebags onto him, plus Aderthon's own pack.

Legolas came out to meet them. "I thought I heard you out here. I went ahead and prepared a small lunch for you." He brought with him a tray of wine, apples, bread, and cheeses. "I thought you might enjoy eating up at the pavilion."

Nimwing smiled wide. "Indeed, my lord. A marvelous idea!"

"Up on the hill?" Aderthon asked in suprise.

Both elves laughed, but Legolas responded first. "But of course. The pavilion is not just a decoration."

Aderthon shrugged and admitted his had been a silly question. He took from Legolas the tray of food and drink. Together he and Nimwing made their way to the center of the settlement where the large hill was located. They took the winding path up the Flower Hill, Aderthon taking in every second of the beauty and magic in that place.

"Why did you decide to leave Mirkwood?" Aderthon asked her as they drew close to the top. A few other elves were there, but it was a spacious pavilion.

She shrugged and let out a small sigh. "The Battle Under the Trees was a hard one on my people. Much of Mirkwood was burned to the ground, our people lay dead around us who survived." Together they sat down and she continued. "I love the forests of Middle Earth, truly I do. I spent some time after the War visiting Lorien and Fangorn, but in my heart and mind I continued to see the destruction of all I held dear."

Aderthon nodded. "So you needed a change of pace?"

"In a sense I suppose." She took a sip of wine in contemplation. "The King has never been there same since the War. For a long time he debated sailing West at last, almost went with Carmegil." She sighed. "But, well, he didn't. He tries to act like nothing happened, but so much did happen, Aderthon. Our trees were gone!"

A tear slipped down her cheek and Aderthon wiped it away. The action surprised them both, and both blushed immediately.

"My mother, she suffered much in her later life," Aderthon told her slowly and quietly. "The Battle for Arnor took its toll on all of us, but she most of all. It broke our family apart."

Nimwing was intrigued. "How so? We only got bits and pieces of news."

"My youngest sister, Tinneth." Aderthon began to explain what happened. "She was an angry and jealous child, full of greed. My parents did their best to control her, perhaps too much. Tinneth grew to resent us all and when provided with a chance to claim 'her inheritance' as a descendent of Fëanor, she did not hesitate to try to destroy us all. In fact, she was happy to do such deeds." He lost himself in his thoughts for a moment and paused before finally continuing. "Tinneth nearly killed my mother during the battle. I was forced to kill her." He hung his head after swigging some wine to cope with his pain.

Nimwing frowned, reaching out and taking his hand. "I cannot claim to understand the pain you and your family must carry."

Aderthon flashed her a small smile. "I do not desire pity, but I do not scorn it."

"Pity is a gift," she agreed. "One would be foolish to scorn it."

The pair continued to eat, changing the conversation to happier matters. Aderthon was at a loss for how beautiful the view was, and he heartily enjoyed the food and drink, and the company.

A/N: For more on Carmegil, see Battle Under Trees and Exploring Westernesse. For the War of the Ring in Mirkwood, see Battle Under Trees.