Mae govannen!

I present to you the third and final installment of The Redeemed One series. Though not necessary, it's advisable to read the first two stories (The Elven Huntress and The Stirring) to make complete sense of the whole ...thing. This one will be rather long, and might take a while since I'm a very busy person with higher priorities (unfortunately) but please stick with me!

I'd love to hear each and every one of your thoughts (concerning this story, of course, otherwise it would be...awkward) so please don't hesitate!

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Have a blessed day. :)

Elluviel

"Ilweranael, please stop this!" Naneth cried. "It is for the best that we leave! Lorien is safer for us!"

"NO! I don't care! You're taking me away from home!"

"Lorien is your home. You were born there!" Naneth exclaimed.

"You're taking the only friend I have away from me!"

"You do not understand the danger," Ada calmly said. "And you will find new friends in Lorien."

"No one can replace him!"

"Your brothers will."

"They're older than me! And I don't know them!"

"You will, with time," Ada pointed out.

"I will never forget Legolas! I hate you!"

"Please, don't say that, Ilweranael!" Naneth pleaded.

Gilrael opened her eyes with a start. Those were the last words she had said to her parents before they were so ruthlessly murdered. I hate you!

She breathed heavily. A dream, that's what it was. A look into the past. A scene she had forgotten entirely, until that night.

Ilweranael…was that her real name? Yes, it was, she realized. The name that had been wiped from her memory during her time as a captive.

…

"Please forgive me, Tauriel!" the bleeding, wounded ellon pleaded as he lay, dying, on the icy ground.

"Of course I do."

"You don't understand! I've spent my whole life as Azog, a cruel orc. Do you have any idea what I've done?"

"Valluen-"

"I've corrupted innocent souls! I've murdered countless beings! I've ripped families apart!"

"The only part that matters is that you repent now."

"I do. Oh, of course I do! Please, Tauriel, t-tell Gilrael, tell her to forgive me. Tell her she was right, that she didn't deserve what I made her endure."

"I will."

"I love you, Tauriel. Never think otherwise. I risked my life, risk being captured, to save you. So did Ada."

"Valluen?" Tauriel anxiously cried as he coughed out blood.

"F-find Naneth. S-she's …"

"She's what?"

"She's still in Middle Earth."

Tauriel stared at the fire, absently stirring it with a stick. The rain poured outside the cave, and the wind howled. It was times like those that she missed her cousin's company, Legolas, and felt lonelier than ever, especially when she replayed that scene in her mind.

Valluen had died after she met him for the second time. He had been killed as Azog, but she knew, deep inside, that he had died as her brother. Her loving, courageous, noble brother.

It was due to him that she had been exiled, but she didn't fault the king for it. Someone had to be punished for the doings of her brother. And, though she never would have thought it, she was glad to. Glad to live out the punishment for him, to bring honour to her family.

No, she wasn't just wandering the wilderness as an exile. She was searching for her mother, the last bit of hope Valluen had given her. She's still in Middle Earth. Well, then Tauriel would find her.

…

"Legolas, what do you mean?"

"I…cannot stay with you, Nuileth. You are not the right one for me."

"Why are you telling me this? Just the other night you declared your love to me, and I to you. You cannot reject me now!"

"I am sorry. I have spent many hours pondering the matter, and I have decided. You are not the one."

"Then who is?"

"Ilweranael."

"Legolas! She is dead!"

"Do not say that!" he snapped.

"Y-you are breaking my heart," Nuileth whispered.

He pursed his lips. "I am deeply troubled about this, but I know it is the right choice. Please forgive me."

"Legolas!"

"I am sorry."

Nuileth sat up straight in bed, gasping for breath. Beyond, the dim lights from the other flets flickered, casting a silver glow onto the Mallorn trees. A glow that had comforted her many times, but not that time.

She tossed the silk blanket off and parted through the soft canopy, soundlessly stepping onto her balcony. Stairs spiralled down her tree, the ones that Legolas once ascended regularly to visit her. Until he left Lorien.

Nuileth gazed up above the golden leaves cast into silver at night. Up above, the stars shone and twinkled, stars that she and Legolas adored. But through her tears, they were simply bright orbs.

It had been many centuries since he left, but Nuileth had never recovered, never forgotten. She still held onto the hope that he remembered her. Yet he had not visited her, not even once.

Nuileth's only comfort was in Haldir. He was quiet and sometimes intimidating, but he listened. He visited. And he had managed to convince the Lord and Lady to accept her as a scout, to patrol the borders. To do something worthwhile with her life, with her skills as the best archer in Lorien.

I am sorry. How was that supposed to heal a broken heart?

…

"Run, Ithiriel, run!" Naneth ordered, tears streaming down her dirt-stained face.

"What about you? What about Ada, and Legolas?"

"Never mind about me! Ada and Legolas are well protected. But the orcs will not get to you!"

"Naneth, I cannot leave you!"

"GO! Do you have the Ring?"

"Yes."

"Then fly, fly with the wind. Run as fast and as far as your legs will carry you."

"Naneth-"

"GO!"

Ithiriel sat in the back of the cavern, staring at the mug of wine that the bartender brought her. Her hood was drawn over her head, concealing her fair, elven, and disturbed face in a cloud of darkness.

She twisted the Ring, blocking out the sounds of the drunken men around her with her memories.

GO! It was the last thing her mother had ever said to her. The last word before she was slaughtered by the orcs, though, Ithiriel was sure, with a few kills of her own.

The elleth sighed, slowly picking up the mug, slowly taking a sip as her sharp, blue eyes scanned the cavern. She had spent most of her adult life among Men, but she had never grown accustomed to their strange ways. True, she often had to adopt them herself, but only as a disguise. Though how much longer she would be able to fake her identity and live away from her home and family, she did not know.

Ithiriel's muscles tensed, and she laid a hand on her sword as a stranger brushed by her. But her eyes rested on the folded note he left on her table. Keeping an eye on the stranger, she unfolded it, and gasped. It read, 'GO!'