The next morning they filled their waterskins at a clear spring they found close to the forest-gate until they were in danger of bursting, and unpacked the ponies. They distributed the baggage as fairly as they could, though Duilin thought his lot was wearisomely heavy, and did not at all like the thought of trudging for miles and miles with such a burden on his back; and Devin experienced another episode of déjà vu as the elf-twins answered:

"Don't you worry! It will get lighter all too soon. Before long I expect we shall all wish our packs heavier, when the food begins to run short."

Then they all said goodbye to their stout little ponies who had bore them so faithfully over the mountains and turned their heads for Beorn's home. Though they looked back at their riders with concern, they trotted off without much prompting and seemed very glad to put their tails toward the shadow of Mirkwood. The Company of four stood at the mouth of the dark forest-path.

"Remember," said Hannah gravely. "No matter what happens, don't stray off the track."

They walked in single file. They passed through the arched entrance to the path beyond the ivy-covered ornate posts smoothly carved to resemble stylized trees with antler-like branches curving off of them leading into a gloomy tunnel made by two great trees that leant together, too old and strangled with ivy and hung with lichen to bear more than a few blackened leaves. The path itself was narrow and wound in and out among the trunks. Soon the light at the gate was like a pin-prick of light far behind, and the quiet was so deep that even Elladan and Elrohir's light feet seemed to thump along while all the trees leaned over them and listened.

As their eyes adjusted to the dimness Hannah and Duilin could see a little way to either side in a sort of darkened green glimmer. Occasionally a slender beam of sun that had the luck to slip through some opening in the leaves far above, and still more luck in not being caught in the tangled boughs and matted twigs beneath, stabbed down thin and bright before them. But this was seldom, and it soon ceased altogether.

The elf-twins's sharper, more inquisitive eyes could easily catch glimpses of the black squirrels in the wood as they whisked off the path and scurried behind tree-trunks. They also heard strange noises like grunts, scufflings, and hurryings in the undergrowth, and among the leaves that lay piled endlessly thick in places on the forest-floor; but what made the noises even Elladan and Elrohir could not see. The dark dense cobwebs were still there with threads extraordinarily thick that often stretched from tree to tree, or tangled in the lower branches on either side of them. However many of them seemed to have fallen into disrepair and appeared to have been abandoned. There were none stretched across the path, and the elf-twins felt some magic must have kept it clear, if the path was not often patrolled. Hannah noted to herself that the air felt less oppressive since she was last there.

It was not long before Duilin came to hate the forest dearly, and to him it seemed unending. But they had to go on and on, long after they were sick for a sight of the sun and of the sky, and longed for the feel of wind on their faces. There was no movement of air down under the forest-roof, and it was everlastingly still and dark and stuffy. Their small Company felt as though they were being slowly suffocated. Hannah tried to look on the bright side by pointing out that the air seemed less heavy to her this time around. She was relieved that the shadow on the land did not seem to be taking a harder toll on her Elf friends.

The abysmal black nights were the worst. Elladan and Elrohir could barely see their own hands in front of their faces, which meant of course that Hannah and Duilin could see absolutely nothing: apart from the eyes. They slept all closely huddled together, and took it in turns to watch; and when it was Hannah's turn she could see their gleams in the darkness round them, and sometimes pairs of yellow or red or green eyes would stare at her from a short distance, and then slowly fade and disappear and slowly shine out again in another place. And sometimes they would gleam down from the branches just above her; and that was most terrifying. But the eyes she liked the least were horrible pale bulbous sort of eyes. 'Insect eyes' she thought, remembering how Bilbo had described the same sight to her while retelling this part of their previous adventure. From their size Hannah suspected they might belong to the giant spiders, but fortunately they seemed to be rare and remained reluctant to cross the elven-path.

As it was cold, they tried lighting watch-fires at night, but they soon gave that up. It seemed to bring hundreds and hundreds of eyes all round them, though the creatures, whatever they were, were careful never to let their bodies show in the little flicker of the flames. Worse still it brought thousands of dark-grey and black moths, some nearly as big as your hand, flapping and whirring round their ears. They could not stand that, nor the huge bats, black as night, either; so they gave up fires and sat close at night and dozed in the enormous uncanny darkness. It was decided a fire would only be lit if the cold grew more bitter and became intolerable enough to justify the harassment it would bring.

All this went on for what seemed to the scholar (and to a lesser extent Hannah) ages upon ages; and he was always hungry, for they were extremely careful with their provisions. Even so, as days followed days, and still the forest seemed just the same, they began to get anxious. The food would not last forever: it was in fact already beginning to get low. They tried shooting at the squirrels, and they wasted a one or two arrows before they managed to bring one down on the path. But when they roasted it, it proved horrible to taste, and they shot no more squirrels.

They were thirsty too, for they had none too much water, and in all the time they had seen neither spring nor stream. This was their state when one day they found their path blocked by a running water. It flowed fast and strong but not very wide right across the way, and it was black, or looked it in the gloom. It was well that Beorn had warned them against it, or they would have drunk from it, whatever its color, and filled some of their emptied skins at its bank. As it was they only thought of how to cross it without wetting themselves in its water. There had been a bridge of wood across, but it had rotted and fallen leaving only the broken posts near the bank. Hannah had expected this, but she was disappointed to see that the lost boat had not been replaced.

However, they had made provisions for this. The lack of means to cross was quickly remedied with help from the elf-twins. Elladan attached a steel hook to the end of a sturdy rope and swung it over the dark stream so that it wrapped around the trunk of a tree and caught on itself. After a few strong tugs to make certain it would hold, they pulled it taut and tied the loose end on their side round another tree. Elrohir ran lightly across the rope with his pack to the far bank and Elladan tossed him a second rope to tie at comfortable height for Hannah and Duilin to grip while they crossed, gripping the rope tightly while they carefully inched along. Elladan went last and helped steady the anxious scholar when he threatened to lose his balance. When Hannah looked down at the water flowing beneath her feet, she felt a flicker of temptation to allow herself to fall and relive the sweet dream of her family again, before they had been separated by death and war, but she quickly brushed it aside and silently scolded herself for thinking so irresponsibly.

All four of them made it across without incident and no one lost any memories, and after a short break to allow Duilin a chance to recover his breath and his nerve, the small Company resumed their journey. They had been walking for some time when Elladan and Elrohir were alerted to a far off noise and stopped and signaled for the others to halt. Then Hannah and Duilin became aware of the dim blowing of horns in the wood and the sound as of dogs baying far off; and it seemed they could hear the noise of a great hunt going by to the north of the path, though they saw no sign of it. Sticking to the path they pressed on, moving closer to the source of the noise.

Suddenly on the path ahead appeared some white deer, a hart and a young hind as pale and bright as snow. They seemed to Hannah to glimmer in the shadows like stars in the night. No one moved. The deer looked at them and stood stock still until the horns sounded again. Quickly they turned and vanished as silently as they had come, and Hannah was startled to feel herself being pulled back to safety just as a group of sleek hunting dogs streaked onto the path with equal stealth, snapping their jaws as they pressed on with great speed to pursue their quarry. The rest of the elven hunting party followed on great steeds, so focused on their task that they spared not a single glance to the travelers on their path. The hounds bayed as they disappeared again into the thick dim of the surrounding forest. For a moment all Hannah could do was stand there, feeling quite stunned by the beautiful beasts and their elegant riders, but she was not so astonished that she did not recognize the familiar faces leading the charge.

"Was that him? Was that the Elvenking?" asked Duilin, gazing after the Wood-elves in wonder.

"No, but that is their prince and his guard," Hannah replied with a smile.

"That was Legolas Greenleaf at the head?" said Elladan.

"He's just as you described him," said Elrohir. They heard the dogs bark and the horn sounded again.

"They're coming back," said Elladan. It was true. Hannah could hear the thumping beating of horse hooves against the forest floor draw closer again. They didn't have to wait long for the elf-prince to return. Legolas stopped on the path in front of them. He looked curiously at Hannah.

"It can't be..." he said, despite the flicker of recognition in his eyes. The rest of the hunting party caught up with him. Hannah could see through the dim gloom that they had captured the hart.

"I almost thought you didn't recognize me," said Hannah, giving him a smile. Legolas returned it warmly.

"Hannah! You've grown!" he said.

"Not much," said Elrohir jokingly, holding a hand above her head to emphasize her lack of height.

"Just because I haven't become much taller, doesn't mean I haven't grown," said Hannah, crossing her arms. "Legolas, this is Elrohir and that's Elladan. They're sons of Lord Elrond," she said, introducing them. "And this is Duilin son of Duinhir, a scholar from Gondor. Everyone, this is Legolas, prince of the woodland realm."

"At least you seem to have made a better choice of company this time," said Legolas a little teasingly.

"Now none of that," said Hannah. She would not have one friend disparage another. "It's good to see you again."

"Come! We shall have a feast to welcome you!" said Legolas, reaching down to help her up onto his horse. Other elves shared their horses with Elrond's sons and Duilin. Elladan and Elrohir mounted with their usual grace, but the poor scholar clumsily scrambled up only to fall off again.

"Will your father approve?" asked Hannah while Duilin was helped back onto the horse. "I don't recall him being overly fond of me."

"He does not dislike you," said Legolas reassuringly as they began to ride down the path. The Elvenking had not forgotten how Hannah had saved his life and Legolas's when they were in danger by using a troll as a weapon. "And I'm sure he will want to show proper hospitality to the sons of Lord Elrond."

"Good thing he sent them along," Hannah said, glancing back at the elf-twins. She had to hold onto Legolas when his horse sped up to a run. They flew down the path.

Although they were several days away from the halls of the Elvenking traveling on foot, they would reach their destination in just two, thanks to the wood-elves' shortcut and their swift horses. Hannah was glad to see that Legolas and Elladan and Elrohir were getting along. As was Duilin. He could often be seen writing as they were talking, taking down everything that was said. He also asked many questions, but to his consternation they were rarely answered.

"Well, they hardly know you," Hannah reminded the scholar that night, sitting around the campfire (the wood-elves appeared to have some magic or trick to keep the moths and bats away, because none bothered them). Would he truly expect a person to spill their secrets to a complete stranger? It would seem he did, because he continued to pry as much as possible. Hannah thought the scholar could do with learning some manners.

"Why did you bring that man along?" Legolas asked her the next day as they were riding.

"He has something I need," Hannah answered truthfully. "He promised to give it to me if I led him to you. He wants to study your people."

"Oh?" said Legolas, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Obviously you don't have to humor him if you don't want to," said Hannah. "I already told him there was no guarantee your father would allow it."

"You are probably right," said Legolas. "We shall soon find out." They had reached the bridge leading to the magic gates of the Elvenking's halls. They all crossed the bridge. Another group of Elves came to stable their horses for them. Legolas and his hunting party and guests dismounted, and he led his guests to the throne room. They passed an Elf holding a rolled up scroll that the Elvenking had just dismissed. There they stood before his royal majesty: a wizard's apprentice, two Elves, and a Man.

Thranduil did not know the Elves or the man, but he recognized Hannah's eyes at once. He had never met anyone else with that eye-color. There, in place of the skinny child he remembered, stood a blossoming young woman. He knew how quickly children of Men grew. He should have been prepared for this, but he still found himself surprised by the sudden transformation she had undergone in the time since they had last seen her.

"My lord," said Legolas, "Hannah has returned, and she brings with her two sons of Lord Elrond: Elladan and Elrohir. And a scholar from Gondor."

"I see you have not learned from previous experience," said Thranduil, descending from his throne to greet them. "Have you forgotten what happened the last time you showed up on my doorstep unannounced? Why did you not send a messenger ahead of you, then we could have prepared a proper welcome for you and your companions." He looked at the elf-twins. They bowed their heads to him. Thranduil bowed his head to them in return.

"Knowing from previous experience that you do not seem to like having outsiders in your domain, I suspected you might decline my request for a visit," said Hannah.

"Indeed I might have," said the Elvenking, both impressed and annoyed that she should be so bold about it.

"I also hoped that your quality of goodness would not allow you to turn us out so easily if we arrived on your doorstep along with winter," Hannah admitted. Legolas tried not to smile. Elladan and Elrohir managed to keep their expressions neutral. Duilin's eyes shifted nervously from Hannah to the Elvenking.

Thranduil didn't show it, but he almost laughed. Was that a joke? He shook his head: only she would dare say such a thing. "Shameless," he said. He looked at last at Duilin. "And who is this?"

"This is Duilin son of Duinhir," said Hannah. "As Legolas said, he's a scholar from Gondor, and he would like to study your people."

"Study them?" said Thranduil, looking hard at the scholar.

"Yes," Duilin stammered; "Very little is known of the wood-elves of your great kingdom. I wish to correct that." A hungry gleam grew in his eyes as he spoke. "I want to learn your ways: your language, how you live, your legends. I want to share this knowledge!"

Thranduil smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "You know little of my kingdom and have seen none of it—how do you know it is great?"

"Oh, well, I—I—" Duiling stuttered, starting to lose his nerve under the stare of the Elvenking's piercing eyes. The scholar fell silent and looked at the ground, wringing his hands nervously.

"I think it's a safe assumption," said Hannah, taking pity on him. She looked pointedly around the impressive throne room to prove her point. "I'm sure he wouldn't dream of publishing anything without your permission. Would you?" she asked Duilin.

"Oh, no! Of course not!" Duilin said quickly. "Never without your permission."

Thranduil regarded the nervous scholar, who was all atremble."We shall see," he said at last. "If I discover you have lied to me and make ill use of my people, I shall curse you till your dying day."

"Yes, thank you very much!" Duilin stammered, bowing low. Hannah wondered about the curse but did not question it. She knew Elves gave blessings, but she had never before heard of one performing a curse.

"Now that is settled," said Thranduil; "we have to welcome you."

As Legolas said, there really was a feast. Hannah and company were shown to the guest chambers, where they were given several hours to settle in and freshen themselves up for the occasion. She assumed all of the chambers would be the same or similar, with intricate carvings on the ceiling that framed a chandelier that cast back flecks of light on the ceiling like stars in the sky. Rich tapestries hung on the walls. The bed was a four-poster with warm wood and velvet curtains; it looked so inviting, after those troubled nights spent in the forest, that Hannah knew she would fall into a deep sleep and miss the feast if she tried lying on it. There was a handsome desk and matching chair beneath the tapestry portraying the Lamps of the Valar.

Hannah washed up, brushed her hair, and changed into the nice dress she had brought along in case of such an event. She suspected Elladan and Elrohir had packed something more formal than their ranger garb as well. She wondered if Duilin had come so prepared. Hannah had just finished brushing her hair when the same elf-maid who had led her to the room knocked on the door. Hannah followed her guide to the feast halls. They would have their feast in the halls of the Elvenking rather than the woods, as she had seen the wood-elves do before. Hannah was curious and inquired why. The elf-maid told her that feast she saw was one where they admired the stars, so they feasted under the starlight. Hannah could not remember if, at the time, there had been an opening in the trees large enough to allow a view of the sky, but then she had been focused on the food. And, come to think of it, they had also feasted in the halls the night Bilbo and the Dwarves escaped, though she had not attended. But she was impressed by how quickly the feast was being thrown together upon their unexpected arrival.