The Moons Halo of Light

Previously : "It has been a long time since I was named a blessing, old friend" a beautiful feminine voice chimed. All the men turned to the voice except for Gimli who had never taken his eyes away. "It is hard for anybody to give you such compliments when u hide yourself so deep in this forest." Chortled Gandalf.
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All the tension and wariness of the past few hours was quickly forgotten. "Maybe I do not wish for such compliments, Mithrandir." The corner of the strange females mouth curled into a half smile . The rest of the fellowship were in a mixture of awe and confusion. The ellenth was bewitchingly beautiful. High cheekbones, flawless skin, pouty rose lips. A milky amethyst coloured her wide sparkling eyes that were framed with long dark eyelashes. She wore black armour that showed her toned and lithe elven form. Her ebony locks flowed in waves passed the little of her back like the waves of the ocean. She also wore a unique crystal round her neck. More then that, it seemed as if was alive. It was emitting a dull blue glow, not unlike the hue of the bright light that Gimli saw while they were trapped. The two ornate blades she had attached to either side of her hips, and the full quiver and bow made her look dangerous. But the rueful smile she was giving their leader, eased the company's anxiety.

"My heart gladdens to see you my dear" Gandalf looked upon the ellenth with doting eyes. "And a good thing it is me too. If it had been any of my brothers on the north post, you and your company would still be part of the forest for a while longer, while they determined if you had notions to start some mischief again". She chided with a pointing soft glare, as if to coax information out of him.

Before Gandalf could fill her in any more, a dozen or so darkly cloaked warriors dropped to the ground ten feet further behind the female. The company, with the exception of the wizard pulled out their weapons and gathered defensively together. The other elves made no such movement and watched on like statues. The female raised her arms out to the fellowship in peace. "They mean you no harm, unless you invite them to." The trees swayed and creaked furiously. "Please lower your blades and arrows, the trees do not welcome raised weapons" she pleaded in a sweet voice. Aragorn and Legolas slowly brought their weapons down, Gimli and Boromir however were not so swayed by her plea.

"Drop your weapons! While we are on the topic, let them stay sheathed for the duration of our time here" Gandalf said with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. They lowered their weapons begrudgingly and the lady smiled at them reassuringly, and slightly dipped her head in thanks. The forest eased its rumbling.

He turned back to the women remembering his soft tone from earlier. "My dear, do you think you could persuade your father to speak with me. I have a request that could turn the tides of the battles to come". The woman side eyed Gandalf as she took a careful step closer to him. "Father will not be pleased with the numbers you bring, my friend, and not least the great evil I sense that poor hobbit is carrying" she gazed sorrowfully at Frodo.

Aragorn stepped in front of Frodo protectively. "What you inquire about is not information you are privy to. Our path is our own". He did not like his harsh tone towards the women, just out of chivalry to the fairer sex, but Aragorn did not like that she was already aware of the darkness they carried. They needed secrecy to ensure any hope of this quest prevailing. "It may not be my business, Aragorn, heir of Isildur, but the path you are now resting upon is very much my concern, so forgive me for my forward nature, in questioning ". The company were astonished at how well informed she was, not very many knew of Aragorn's heritage.

"Enough" bellowed Gandalf. He took a brief moment to calm his tone. "This here" he gestured to the lady "is Lady Ayla Aesira of the Ohtar elves, or in western, better known as the warrior elves." Aragorn and Legolas's faces were a mixture of stunned, disbelief. "It cannot be! They were slaughtered. Three thousand years ago. None survived." Aragorn choked out, shaking his head as if to make sense of it all. He still remembered the somber look on Elronds face as he recounted the battle, which resulted in the desolation of a large colony of elven forest dwellers. It was always clear to him that Elrond mournful and regretful, of this event.