Aiwë sat on the banks of the Anduin, her back to Mirkwood. She looked towards the west bank, trying to reach a decision. Mirkwood is my home, I have lived there my entire life. How can I turn my back on it? But then another part of her argued, Yes, you lived there your entire life, and so did he. You will not be able to go anywhere without thinking about him.
        Is that so bad? she argued back. If I leave Mirkwood, what will I have to remember him? But as she thought this her hand strayed to her neck. By some miracle the necklace was still there. You see, part of her said. You can leave and remember him without being overwhelmed by memories.
        Aiwë looked back towards Mirkwood, her home, but all she could think of was Legolas. She blinked away tears and turned her back on the forest. I cannot go back, she decided. I do not know where I will go, but I cannot go back to Mirkwood. Or Lothlórien, or Rivendell. I can never go back, for I will think only of him.
        And with this resolution Aiwë rose to her feet and set off south, following the Anduin. She would go as far away from Elves as she could. Suddenly she hated being an Elf, hated the immortality granted her. To her it was now a curse, a curse that she should live forever without her love. Tears streaming down her face, Aiwë broke into a run, fleeing her home, her past, her people.

        Luingil* tilted his head back and looked up at the sky. The moon was nearly at the top of the sky, but clouds threatened to hide her at any moment. With a sigh the Elf sat down and settled his back against a rock. He had been traveling for a few weeks, following the Anduin as it twisted through the land. He had recently entered the Brown Lands where food and shelter were scarce. ‘Travel on the West bank, it is nicer there’ I told myself, but did I listen? Of course not! He thought irritably as he tried to find a more comfortable position. As he did, he saw a shadow in the distance. It did not try to conceal itself and was traveling at a rapid pace. Crouching down behind a rock Luingil picked up his bow and notched an arrow to the string. He could not tell what the shadow was or what business it had in these parts, so he waited, willing to let it pass if it meant no harm.
        As Luingil waited, a cloud passed over the moon and he lost sight of the shadow. Then he saw it again, racing swiftly over the lands. It would have passed him, but Luingil rose to his feet and command it to halt. The shadow stopped and turned its head towards Luingil.
        The cloud passed and the moon shone brightly down on the Elf and the shadow. Luingil saw now that it was not a shadow, but an Elven maiden. Her dark brown hair hung to her waist, and her blue eyes watched Luingil with the caution of a cornered deer. Immediately Luingil lowered his bow.
        "I am sorry, Lady," he said, bowing slightly. "In the darkness I could not tell whether you were foe or friend, I am sorry if I scared you."
        "It is alright, you did not frighten me," the Elf maiden replied calmly, but she still eyed him with mistrust.
        "My name is Luingil," the Elf said, shouldering his bow. "Who are you?"
        "My name is Aiwë," the Elf replied, but she did not yet trust Luingil completely. "What errand has you wandering through the Brown Lands?"
        "I would ask you the same thing," Luingil said with a smile. "As for me, I am traveling to Gondor. To where do you travel?"
        Aiwë glanced to the South. "I am not sure," she answered truthfully. "But why do you go to Gondor?"
        Luingil shrugged. "Men say that it is a great sight, the White City, so I thought I might see for myself."
        Aiwë stared at him. "You are traveling to see a city? What of your home and your family?" Aiwë winced as she asked the question, but Luingil did not notice.
        "My family was killed by Orcs when I was little," he replied. "I was raised by the Dunedain, and so have picked up their desire to roam."
        It was then that Aiwë noticed Luingil was not clothed in Elven fashion. He wore clothes of simple make, dyed brown and green. He carried as his weapons a plain bow and a quiver of arrows.
        "And what of you?" asked Luingil, cutting across her thoughts. "Why do you leave your home and family?"
        Aiwë winced and looked away. "My family is dead," she said quietly, but with a coldness that startled Luingil. "My family is dead and I have no desire to return to the place I once called home."
        "Fair enough," Luingil said quietly. "Have you any food? You may have some of mine, if you wish."
        Aiwë looked at Luingil closely. He had long black hair and bright blue eyes. If it were not for his pointed ears and his graceful movements, Aiwë would have easily thought him to be a Ranger.
        "I would be grateful for food," Aiwë said at last.
        Luingil nodded and sat down. Opening his pack he produced fruit and some lembas. He handed the food to Aiwë and sat quietly while she ate.
        She is a strange Elf, Luingil thought, studying Aiwë. She has suffered some great hurt and wishes to leave it behind her. I suppose that is why she runs so. She said she does not know to where she goes, perhaps we can travel together. For some reason he could not explain, Luingil felt drawn to Aiwë, as if he had known her at one time. Shaking it off, Luingil saw that Aiwë had finished eating, and he rose to his feet.
        "Lady Aiwë, you are welcome to travel with me, if you wish," Luingil said, offering her his hand.
        Aiwë looked up at the Elf. He could not be much younger than her, and he seemed very familiar to her, though she could not think why. Something about his eyes and mannerisms... Aiwë cast aside her thoughts and took Luingil's hand, allowing him to help her to her feet.
        "I will travel with you," Aiwë said with a small smile. "I think I too may like to see the White City."
        The two Elves set out across the Brown Lands, steadily leaving everything Aiwë had ever known farther and farther behind.
 

*'Luingil' means blue star