Rivendell

For a while, it seemed as if time moved very fast. The captain proved more amenable to Maltariel's request to leave than either of them had expected, even to the extent of dismissing her from her duties immediately. The following days rushed past in a flurry of packing, of hasty goodbyes and hurried preparations. Maltariel emptied out her house entirely, passing those possessions she couldn't pack among her friends. There was less than she had expected – somehow, what with all the years patrolling the borders and living in outposts, she had avoided really gathering much.

Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap
A breathless footfall on the cool marble. In the eerie silence, it resonated within the hall.
Creak.
The door opened wide and the Elf-maiden stared into the sunny sky.
Rustle.

Alas, it seems that fortune is not on my side afterall. Setting out from Imladris the fair, whom as always, I leave with heavy heart, I travelled west, seeking to pass the Last Bridge and head to Duillond and start my search for my beloved there. It was not to be so. As I neared the bridge, I was met with a hail of arrows. My shield took most of them but one sought home in my left shoulder, The pauldron keeping me from sustaining serious injury. I charged them on my steed and after slaying the ambushers, I sought high ground.

Here lies a proprechy once sang by a minstrel in the Vally of Rivendell. 

Thus a maid shall flee

The starlit valley of song and dance

The last home of the Eldar will see

The day a maid holds a blade

Strong and free.