"You may be well learned and have some skill with blades, but I still see little more than a child of privilege,"

Haleth led Márafea and Thranduil down more torch-lit tunnels, traversing this way and that, hearing whispers as they passed and occasionally dark shadows moved behind them. At last, they came to a vast cavern with a stream running through the bottom; they had carved steps into the rock along with a platform for speaking with a stone table placed upon it. "This is the great chamber, where all important councils are taken," whispered Haleth. Sitting on the steps were hundreds of Dúnedain, men, women, and children. Márafea had never seen so many of her mortal kin in one place before. Near the platform sat the Lords, Elders and Wardens. They looked on as Haleth led Márafea and Thranduil into the great chamber. Ronil sat with them, Haleth led Márafea and Thranduil to seats of honour, then took her place alongside Ronil.

A bell sounded, echoing around the great chamber and silencing the crowds, Ronil stood and approached the platform to address the waiting crowd. "Good people, Lords, Elders and Wardens. Today, we have summoned a great council. A council that will change the lives of all the Dúnedain forever. Our good King Elessar has, at last, sent emissaries to us, Regents in his name, to help us reclaim our home, restore our lands and take our rightful place in Middle Earth!" he announced.

"They are what King Elessar sends us, a mere slip of a girl and her Elven husband?" laughed one elder. "At least we can have faith in the husband, but a pampered princess in fancy armour is another matter," called another. Haleth stood up, "I can assure you Anberenien Telcontar, is no pampered princess. She saved my life, in Bree and fought off my would be assassin, then executed him herself," said Haleth.

"Sit down Wardress, no one asked your opinion, girl," called the first Elder.

Márafea looked at Thranduil, he nodded and she rose from her seat to join Ronil. Without a word, she unsheathed her blades and placed them on the table for all to see. "You all knew my father, Lord Beren of Duincar. You know of what happened to my Lord Father and Lady Mother. And of my grandmother, Gruinith the Cheerless, as you called her. Seven sons, she bore the Dúnedain and when her husband was killed, with my mother still quickening in her belly, she continued to train her sons in his stead. Yet knowing a terrible doom had been laid upon her, that she would outlive all of her children and should Gruinith's only daughter bear a child, her own doom would not be long upon her. I am the child of her doom, yet she loved me as much as any grandmother, perhaps more so. She had great foresight and knew I too had a great doom upon me, that I would play a part in the restoration of my people. Died fighting with these blades in her hands, just as her sons did. She taught me to use them as soon as I could stand and passed them to me as the light of life faded from her eyes. These are no mere blades, they are of our ancestors, the Númenóreans, a gift from Princess Silmariën to her female bodyguard, then passed from mother to daughter ever since till they came to me," she said.

The first Elder clapped slowly and sniggered "a touching story, Queen of the Wood Elves. But what good are stories to us now? What care we for the Númenóreans and their pompous Armadas, they are best forgotten along with that accursed Island."

"Princess Silmariën was of the faithful, mother of the Lords of Andúnië, our ancestors, do we not stem from their line? Were we not spared from the judgement of Eru? Are we not the people of Elendil, Isildur and Anárion? Does our King not hold the reforged sword as the great seer Malbeth foretold?" said Márafea.

"I see you learned much from your studies at Rivendell. Lord Elrond would be proud indeed of his protege. You may be well read and have some skill with blades, but I still see little more than a child of privilege. What do you know of what we face here, the constant fear of being slaughtered? What our enemies do to our wives and daughters if they can get their hands upon them. You know nothing, child!" cried the Elder bitterly.

Thranduil made to stand, but Márafea motioned him to stop, she fixed the old man with her silver gaze and smiled "You are right, I was raised with many privileges after my parents were murdered by those after the bounty set upon me by the Dark Lord Sauron. He sort to wed me by force, to break the will of the Aragorn and the Dúnedain. Many times I was sort, captured even, yet here I stand before you alive, free and wed to my good husband," said Márafea.

"So you were captured and rescued. What has that got to do with anything?" asked the Elder.

"The Dark Lord does not like those who would resist him, even I was not exempt from his wrath. His priest's sort to break my will, but I did not surrender," said Márafea.

The elder smirked, "So you say, and what could the Dark Lord have possibly done to you if he wanted to wed you, you look perfectly well to me."

Márafea sheathed her blades. "Very well, Wardress Haleth, I need your assistance."

Haleth approached the platform, "What would you have me do, Vice Regent?"

"Help me remove my armour," instructed Márafea. Haleth obliged and assisted Márafea in removing her plate, "Now the Mithril." Haleth looked confused at first, then assisted Márafea in taking off her Mithril shirt."Now my boots and trouse," said Márafea.

Thranduil rose from his seat. "No Thorwen, you cannot do this, I forbid it!" he protested.

"Please Vice Regent, they do not need to see that," begged Haleth.

Márafea looked at Thranduil sadly, "If I am to win the respect of my people, they must know what I suffered at the Dark Lord's hands. You have said yourself husband, sometimes our duty is unpleasant." Reluctantly the Haleth obliged and Márafea stood upon the platform in her undershift, revealing the scars upon her legs. She then pulled up the sleeves on her arms to reveal the scars upon her arms. Some of the women in the audience covered their children's eyes, others cried out in distress. None among them could unsee what they had witnessed. The Elder gulped and cast his eyes down in shame. "My apologies Vice Regent, please, cover yourself, I beg of your pardon and that of your good husband." Márafea nodded and Haleth quickly assisted her in dressing. The Elder approached and bowed low, "I am called Thanben, Elder of Dolenbar, I lost my wife and daughter Angnith to the outlaws. May I ask, did those who did this to you receive justice?" he asked.

"King Elessar hanged them from the walls of Minas Tirith and we, in turn, will get justice for all the wrongs committed against us. This is our time, time for the Dúnedain to come out of hiding and return to Annúminas, the city of our forefathers!" Márafea called. She stood in silence as cheers and shouts echoed around the Chamber, then looked back at Thranduil, whose face was a mixture of pride and discomfort.

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"How could you Thorwen, you are a queen, my queen, how could you expose yourself in that manner?" argued Thranduil.

"Are you ashamed of me? Ashamed of my scars?" replied Márafea.

"Never, it is a sign of your courage........ and my........ failure," said Thranduil.

Márafea took his face in her hands, "You have never failed me, you are not responsible for what Nuta did to me."

"What about the battle under the trees, I lost you and you were taken," protested Thranduil.

"The smoke was darkened with Sauron's malice, it was not your fault. That part of our life is behind us now, we must go onwards, lead the Dúnedain back home and return to our daughter. That is what is important now," said Márafea.

Thranduil kissed her and smiled, "Promise me, you never do anything like that again."

Márafea nodded and kissed him. She dropped her hands and paced the small chamber they had been lodged in; it was simple but clean, with only a couple of torches for light. "At least we achieved what Elessar wanted. The council agreed those who cannot fight would go to the safety of Bree and those who can, will join us when we take back Annúminas, we have quite the army now," said Márafea.

"You got them to agree, I was merely a bystander. Still, it will be a relief to leave this most basic of living conditions. The Elven Halls it is not," said Thranduil as he appraised the chamber. "This is how the Dúnedain have survived all these years, a hobbit hole it is not, but it has kept them safe," said Márafea.

Ronil appeared at the entrance, "Vice regent, I must speak with you?"

"What is it Ronil? You look worried?" asked Márafea.

"Haleth, she is missing. I fear she has gone to Fornost, foolish girl. Her father's head has been put on a spike there and she is determined to rescue it, but the place is crawling with outlaws, her own brother included. The council banned our people from going near the ruins, less our location was exposed. I promised I would not tell the council of her desire for her father's head, but you are not of the council. I have known Haleth since she was born, I promised her father, I would watch over her. She is as a daughter to me, I ask if you would find her and fetch back," said Ronil.

"When was she last seen?" asked Thranduil.

"She was at the feast, but could not be found by its end," said Ronil.

"Then there is no time to waste. Ronil, would you summon the others?" asked Márafea.

"We are going after a foolish girl?" asked Thranduil.

"No, we are saving an important bloodline and the future of my people," replied Márafea.

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Below the warm, clear, moonless night, a small company crept lightly on foot towards the city ruins. "She wasn't very good at covering her tracks," said Elladan as he inspected the ground.

"Perhaps she knew someone would follow," said Elrohir. Márafea placed her hands upon the ground and closed her eyes.

"She is not thinking with sense, we must hurry. Her steps took that direction," she said.

"What was the Queen doing?" whispered Fimas.

"I fear she is more sorceress than queen lass," Glendi whispered back.

After an hour's walk uphill, they came to the rubble that was once the walls of the ruined city. Following it around till they came to what was left of a gatehouse. Márafea motioned for the company to be still, placing her hands upon the walls again, she closed her eyes. When at last she opened them, she drew her blades and silently motioned for the company to follow suit.

"What did you hear?" whispered Thranduil.

"Nothing, I felt the vibrations, they are not far," replied Márafea.

"They?" said Thranduil. Márafea nodded, slowly they entered the ruins of the once great city. It was strangely quiet. They could hear not even the sound of nocturnal creatures. Stars were the only source of light as they picked their way through collapsed and blackened buildings. Suddenly Márafea halted, a scream echoed across the darkness.

"It is coming from over there?" she whispered.