It took ten minutes for Legolas to transport Avalain to his home. Gently, he lowered her off Belutha and more-or-less carried her into the sick room, where he gathered all the necessary herbs for an antidote. In another ten minutes, she had drunk the solution and was already feeling the positive effects.

With a contented sigh, Avalain sat up from the table he had laid her upon. She blinked and looked at him to see his blue eyes wide with worry. "Thank you, Legolas," she said softly. "I am in your debt."

"You are in no debt," replied Legolas. "I am simply glad to see you. I received your last letter only three days ago and was once again reminded how much I've missed your company. Seeing you here is enough payment to satisfy whatever debt you may accumulate for a while."

At this, the girl laughed. "You make it sound like I shall continually owe you!"

With a sideways smirk that was ever-so-constant upon his face, he retorted, "Perhaps you shall! Who am I to say otherwise?"

She scoffed and glanced around the room, contentedly perusing the Wood-Elves halls. It had been nearly seven centuries since last she'd roamed the Greenwood; to have returned spread warmness throughout her being. The only thing that bothered her about her visit was knowing that Legolas and King Thranduíl were more likely than not going to imprison Fili and the others. She knew she had to do something to prevent that.

But there was something else she had to attend to first. "Belutha," murmured Avalain. "Is she all right? She is being tended to?"

Legolas nodded. "Your horse has been stabled and fed. I believe she is regaining some well-earned sleep. I apologize for the discomfort you must have experienced on your journey here; the forest grows darker each day, and to think of what you must have had to endure on your way here…" He trailed off somberly, his eyes lowering to the ground.

"In truth, I did not suffer much," replied Avalain. "I was only within the trees for three days, though I will not deny the journey had its hardships." She thought of the night flight she'd had and knew she was correct.

Her friend nodded, though it was pensive. "Well, if that is the case, I will personally attend to you whenever you need me. If I had known you were coming, I would have met you at the forest's borders."

Avalain smiled ruefully. Why had she not had that forethought? But the answer to this question was glaringly obvious. "I'm sorry, my dear friend," replied she. "I left in quite a hurry; I was very excited to be coming to the Greenwood."

The Greenwood itself, however, was only a portion of the answer—the rest of it lay within the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.

Luckily, Legolas did not know this, and so he smiled and said, "It has been many years, hasn't it? We've quite missed you, Avalain… the day your father called you back to Rivendell was a sad day here."

She laughed. "Not too sad, I believe, seeing how much trouble you and I caused your father as we aged!"

Now he laughed too. "Perhaps you're right… but it was a sad day for me." When he said this, his blue eyes lost the joking manner so they were sincere.

Avalain's smile wavered slightly; if she thought informing Lindir of her relationship with the Dwarf was intimidating, the thought of informing Legolas was nothing short of paralyzing.

All the same, she nodded again, though this time she remained silent.

That silence passed for a moment before finally Legolas said, "Well, Avalain, perhaps we should get you upstairs. If your message is truly as urgent as you say, we can afford to waste no more time. Do you think you can walk?"

She thought for a moment and stretched her leg. It felt fine—now came the real test. Slowly, she moved her ankle, which had been severely inflamed after the battle since she'd abused it so much. But even that felt relatively normal; just a little sore. Climbing the stairs would be a daunting task, but nothing she couldn't handle.

Finishing her assessment, said Avalain, "Yes, I believe I can. I'm afraid that after a little while, I might need your help…"

"Of course," smiled Legolas. He offered her a hand to help her rise; Avalain gladly accepted it. As he aided her across the floor, however, she caught a glimpse of herself in a looking-glass, and she yelped.

"By the Eldar!" she exclaimed, observing her grimy appearance. Her face was streaked with mud and blood, and her hair was home to more mud and twigs and by Lúthien, if there were insects, she would—

Legolas laughed seeing the repelled expression on his friend's face. "Here, Avalain, let's get you cleaned up a little." He led her to a washbasin, where the Elf girl gratefully used some water to wash her face, cleanse her arms, and liberate her hair from its tangles and mess.

Once she was ready, she inspected herself again in the looking-glass. Though she was much more presentable, she knew there was nothing to be done for her dress; the hem was torn off of it in chunks, and parts of the fabric had been ripped away, revealing part of Avalain's underskirt.

With a sigh, she said, "It'll have to do. Let us go."

Again, Legolas helped her move toward his father's throne room. He helped her up the steps, and with each step Avalain grew more nervous. Would King Thranduíl take her message seriously? Or would he simply scoff and ignore it like her father believed he would?

Finally, they approached the throne room. Avalain was astounded with the sight—as a child, she had seen the room constantly, but had not been mature enough to appreciate it. Now, however, she was able to hold the room in higher regard. She enjoyed the gap in the ceiling that enabled the King to see the stars, and loved how she could see much of the kingdom of the Wood-Elves below. The caverns within which the kingdom was built glistened in the late twilight… a smile came over Avalain's face. The stars would be shining soon.

She returned her attention to the throne, where King Thranduíl was sitting rather laxly upon his throne. His piercing ice-blue eyes were upon her face, and the look in them was unreadable. Avalain would have quailed underneath his stare had she not known him so well beforehand.

It was then that she realized the Dwarves were all standing on the pavilion, although she could not afford to be distracted now. She had a job to do—inform Thranduíl about the Necromancer.

When at last Avalain and Legolas arrived, she was more than nervous. King Thranduíl's expression had not changed, and she was worried about his apathy…

"Avalain Nightshade," he announced once she was within ten feet of him. "How time has passed!"

She nodded uncertainly. "How it has, my Lord."

He stood up from his throne and began walking down the stairs. He was silent for a while before he stood in front of her. She stared tentatively back up at him and his intense eyes—after what seemed like an eternity, he began to laugh.

"My dear child," he chuckled as he embraced her, "you look positively terrorized. You do not have to be afraid here."

Relieved, Avalain laughed, though the shake in her voice betrayed her. "I was worried you did not see me as a daughter anymore."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the King. "You are as much of a Wood-Elf as you have ever been. As it is, it has been much too long… what is the purpose of your visit? I had not received word of your coming."

"I was sent to relay a message, my Lord," answered Avalain. "One that my father and grandmother classified as highly urgent. I rode here immediately to tell you what dangers they have uncovered."

At her words, King Thranduíl's face became both curious and guarded. "Very well," he said after a short pause. "When we are in more private quarter, I shall speak with you. I guarantee it shall be as soon as possible. Unfortunately, I have another problem I must deal with." This last was said as an irritated groan; Avalain noticed his gaze swung over to the Company of Dwarves.

When he gazed back at her, however, his face morphed back to caring and concerned. Upon noting the state of her dress, he clucked his tongue in dissatisfaction. "Oh, my dear, you cannot possibly be seen in that," he sighed. "I shall have someone provide you with a new dress."

Avalain laughed. "Thank you, my Lord, but I'm afraid everyone has already seen me in this filth. But it is quite all right. My confidence has not been shattered."

"Well, it shouldn't be," came a mutter from the Dwarves.

King Thranduíl swiveled back to them, his light blue robes swishing behind him. Avalain was worried about the outcome of the looming conversation; the King of the Wood-Elves was prouder than any other Elf she had come to meet. If the Dwarves were to insult him in any way, things would not go well for them.

But of course, she could not say anything for fear of infuriating him. She had to remain silent, as much as it might pain her.

"I almost forgot you were here," muttered Thranduíl, his gaze riveting back to steely cold. "It was a nice conversation with my dearly prized daughter."

"Daughter?" asked Thorin Oakenshield, raising an eyebrow. "Is she not the daughter of Elrond of Rivendell?"

Thranduíl seemed mildly irritated as he responded, "She was raised under my care for the better part of six years, seeing as Elrond could not bear to look at her for much of her childhood. It was only once Gandalf and I convinced him to give her a chance that he reclaimed her, and it was a sad day when he did. Even so, I consider her as one of my own."

Avalain swallowed hearing this. To know how highly she was thought of by Legolas's father meant much to her—although she was saddened at the reminder that her father did not always love her the way he did now, Elrond had more than made up for his lack of fathering since her summon to Rivendell.

The leader of the Dwarvish Company did not seem to care very much, not that Avalain would have expected him to. As it was, he remained silent, seeing as there was not much he could say.

It was Thranduíl who spoke next. "Now… what were you doing in my land, disturbing my people?"

Thorin glared at him. "We were passing to get to the Iron Hills, and we approached your people because we were starving."

The Elf King frowned, a look most unbecoming of him. "I do not believe that is the entirety of the story. I sense there is much you are not telling me—and I will not let you leave until that information is relayed." He turned to Legolas then and said, "Grab some guards and put these Dwarves into the dungeons."

Avalain's eyes widened. "My Lord!" she cried out.

Thranduíl turned to her. "Yes?"

"I… I mean—what is the harm of traveling to the Iron Hills through the safest path, the Elven road? Surely you have noticed that these woods have been growing darker these days. Can you blame them for wanting to remain closer to safety?"

Although she spoke well, Avalain's speech also revealed the concern she held for the Dwarves' welfare. Thranduíl heard this within her voice and drew closer to her, a troubled expression on his face. Slowly, he deduced, "You care about these Dwarves. Don't you?"

Avalain knew that there was no lying to the Wood-Elf King. So she answered, "I do, my Lord. They are my friends—they passed through Rivendell three months ago. By lucky chance, on my way to see you, I reunited with them."

Thranduíl raised an eyebrow, but said nothing to her. For a moment, he was silent… and then he said, "Legolas, escort all the Dwarves except Thorin Oakenshield into the dungeons for now. I wish to discuss matters with their leader alone. But not before I speak with Avalain… if you will all excuse us."

With that, the King placed his arm around Avalain's back and gently moved her off to the side of the throne room. The Elf princess looked towards the Dwarves and Legolas to see them being led by three more guards away from the throne room… She would make it a point to visit them in their prisons.

And she would do her best to free them, if possible.