The next day was as beautiful as any other in the Valley of Imladris, but it was difficult to appreciate when one knew what was to be held later. Nevertheless, all were determined not to waste whatever joy they may have, for it was possible that this would be the last for a long time. Having agreed to meet earlier than usual, Strider stood in the open library overlooking the courtyard. Presently, the gate opened, and a flurry of people began to arrive. He saw his friend Legolas, an elf of Mirkwood, and merely raised a hand in greeting, knowing they would speak later. He did not pay much attention to anyone else, until the men of Gondor arrived. His eye was drawn to the white tree emblazoned on their tunics, and his heart grew heavy at the thought of his people. He could not be the king they needed. No training in such matters had been imparted to him in any lasting way, and the blood of Isildur, the man who had kept both ring and Sauron tethered to this world, ran through his veins. He had failed his people, and the guilt of that would stay with him for the rest of his very long life. But he would take that punishment one hundred time over if his people were safe from the evil that followed him. By staying away when his heart yearned for the White City, he was doing what he could to protect them.

As he watched, he heard Miriel's voice as one of the men who had been in the lead dismounted, and his blood froze in his veins. The man was tall, around his height, and he too bore a shield, though not as large as that of the shieldmaiden. The stranger turned with a grin as the blonde woman moved swiftly to him, gathering her into a tight embrace, his face happy and relieved. Aragorn turned and sat upon one of the chairs, shock coursing through him like a flood. She was a shieldmaiden of Gondor, and the man she had greeted with such joy must be her betrothed. She had spoken of a younger brother, but by description this was not him. They had not spoken much of family, and she had only told of him because of a dagger of his she had kept with her.

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Miriel's heart was gladdened to see her elder brother, and relieved that he was alive and well, but she had places to be.

"I will speak to you later, muindor, after the council, for there is much to speak of. For now, there is somewhere I need to be." Boromir raised an eyebrow at her.

"My sister, actually worried about being on time?" She shoved him, laughing as he had not seen her do in far too long, even the last time they had been together in Minas Tirith, for much had been wrong then. The same was wrong now, but she seemed more carefree here in this valley.

"I will see you later, Boromir." She chuckled, and raced off to the library. Arriving, she found her Dunedain companion sitting on a chair, deep in thought. She knew him well by now, and wasn't worried about interrupting him. With everything that had happened, along with his own personal struggles, his guard had been lowered enough that she learned to read him, as he did her, and him putting it back up did nothing. She chose a chair next to him, and collapsed into it in the most unladylike fashion.

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Strider looked up as she flopped next to him, listening as she spoke.

"I am sorry that I am late, I wished to meet someone very dear to me who just arrived." he nodded rather glumly.

"Did you find them well?" She nodded happily.

"Perfectly, thank you." She looked at him concernedly. "Are you alright?" He nodded, clearing his face and mind of all he could. He had forgotten how well she could read him.

"Of course, why?" She shook her head.

"Nothing, you just seem more subdued today. Gloomy is a fitting word."

"I am quite alright, Miriel, simply thinking about what must happen later." They spoke in this vein for sometime, until the topic turned to home. "You have not told me, I believe, where you come from, mellonin. You know I am Dunedain, but we have said little of you." She frowned slightly, but not enough that he would guess her mind.

"I haven't mentioned that, have I?" He shook his head, and she chuckled. She knew he was confirming his own suspicions about her, guessing that he had seen her greeting with her brother and their father's advisors. "I hail from Gondor, though I think you have probably guessed as much." Strider felt his shock flood him again, and his heart sand to his toes. He still believed her ignorant to his true nature, and felt she would despise him if she knew. After a moment, he realized she was calling his name, and snapped back to reality.

"What?" She frowned again, instead of laughing as she usually did at his lapse of attention, and he did his best to keep himself blank. The ease with which she read his innermost thoughts unnerved him, though he could usually do the same to her. He was unused to anyone seeing such things.

"Are you certain you are quite well? You went terribly pale just now, and I have been trying to snap you of whatever that was for a good while." He nodded, trying not to look into her eyes. For once, he feared their piercing gaze, wishing to keep these thoughts to himself.

"I am fine, simply weary and troubled for what is to come." She smiled, placing her hand on his arm, causing him to look at her in surprise, afraid of what she might see in his heart, and of what he would find in her eyes. She simply smiled.

"Do not lose faith before anything has started. If you give up before you have even begun, much will be changed for the worse." Before he could respond, footsteps came their way, and both rose to greet the visitor. The blonde head of Legolas Thranduilion appeared, and they all greeted each other in the elvish way, bowing and placing a hand over the heart, before straightening and extending it towards the other. Legolas greeted the person strange to him first, inclining his head in respect.

"I have not yet had the pleasure of your acquaintance, my lady. I am Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood." Miriel smiled graciously at the elf, not intimidated in the least by the regality of his speech, returning the bow with grace equal to any elf, and his words with a voice filled with the same confidence she always held.

"Mae govannen, my lord. I am Miriel of Gondor."

"Ah, then this is a happy coincidence." She gave him a questioning look. "The Lady Arwen asked me to find you, something about preparing for the council." Miriel sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Well I suppose I can't keep her waiting. I'll see you both at the council." Strider embraced her, she nodded in a friendly manner to Legolas, and left the room, calling behind for them to wish her luck. Legolas and Strider then greeted each other, sitting in the recently vacated seats.

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From one of the rooms higher up in the house, Gandalf and Elrond watched these events transpire, and Gandalf turned to his friend.

"You may say that man is weak, and you may speak true, but there is strength still in the line of Isildur, and the line of Ecthelion." Elrond frowned, shaking his head, but Gandalf persisted. "Look at them, Elrond! You have seen their future even better than I, you are simply far too stubborn to admit it!" Elrond sighed, smiling at his friend wryly.

"You know as well as I do that there are many possible futures, and that it is impossible to see them all. You are right in thinking I have seen them, but only a few are good. Miriel will indeed influence him, and their hearts are meant to be in harmony. But whether they will live to see it through is uncertain."

"What do you mean?" Elrond's frown deepened.

"I have seen many ages of this world, Gandalf, and looked many times into the mists of the future." He paused. "But never in all my life have I been unable to see the end of my visions. It is almost as though the outcome has not yet been determined by Illuvatar, or it has and I am not to know. I do not know what will happen, but it will affect everything we hold dear."