Time's Pain

Days passed once more at a far slower pace. Little news had not come to the elves of the company of Frodo, nor had Gandalf arrived in Imladris during that time. The twins had yet to return from their outing with the Rangers, thus leaving both Arwen and Coruwen worried about their well being considering the Nazgul were abroad. Elrond's foresight had shown him that Glorfindel had found Frodo upon the Road with Aragorn and three other Halflings. That news had arrived a day ago.

Coruwen and Arwen were busying themselves with other tasks to keep their mind off of the warriors outside of their home. Finally after a bit of thought, the ellith decided to check up on their horses after nearly driving Lindir into an overwrought state. Ithil and Arthion greeted the ellith with two happy whinnies. Arwen's dappled grey mare was sleeping in her stall with her side leaning heavily up against the light wooden wall.

Arwen walked up to the mare and gave her small nudge with a teasing smile on her lips. "Iavas," Arwen whispered sweetly into the mare's ear. Instantly, the mare's head up with her brown eyes filled with a sleepiness that reflected that of a child. Iavas had been Arwen's favorite horse; she was a sweet, gentle mare. "Do you want to come out?"

Iavas nudged Arwen's shoulder playfully. Arwen let her free of the stall, and then proceeded to trot outside with the wind tossing her dark grey mane. Ithil followed after Iavas; trotting in figure eights around the other in a graceful dance. Ithil halted before Arwen and gave her a soft nudge on the shoulder before wheeling around to join Iavas again. The maiden laughed at the silliness of horses.

"Wherever did you receive such a mare?" Arwen inquired, turning to look at her cousin. Coruwen smile faintly with a hint of happiness truthfully gleaming in her blue eyes. It pleased Arwen to see her breaking free of her old self bit by bit. For a long while, Coruwen had been easy spooked and practically mute. At least she was smiling. Her cousin turned her head towards her, but still watched the mare's play out of the corner of her eye.

"Thranduil gave Ithil to me," Coruwen said as her blue eyes met Arwen's own. "He has been very kind to me; which I find strange."

Arwen nodded, agreeing with her that it was incredibly odd, "Indeed, you must be of some importance to him. Does your title mean anything to him?"

Coruwen's eyebrows shot up, and she scoffed, "Nay, and if it did; he would use it more often."

Curiosity started getting the better of Arwen's spirit as she was able to get answers out of her cousin for once. It was strange how much stress cracked open her protective shell. Arwen might've thought that was how the dwarves had gotten to know her, but then she reminded herself that Coruwen had been different back then. "How far does your title extend in the eastern regions?"

"To my knowledge, only as far as Esgaroth to Erebor," Coruwen shifted her weight to her right hip. Arwen watched her fumble around with the leather reins of their horses. She was nervous, Arwen noted. "I could, of course, be entirely wrong."

Arwen felt a question prod her mind viciously. She wanted to ask about her adventure. She had heard it dozens of times, but never once had Coruwen spoken about it with just the two of them. Either the twins or one of the many lords were nearby listening. The maiden decided to speak her mind.

"Why did Thorin name you, 'Dragon Queen'?"

Coruwen let out a small breath. The elleth removed her gaze from the jumbled mess she'd made of the leather reins, and walked under the shade of a red-gold leafed tree. The leaves had begun to change into brilliant colors such as this; some bright vermillion and others aged gold. The light of the sun weaved its way through the tree; casting light and shadow upon Coruwen as she looked on to the great waterfalls of Imladris with a forlorn expression. The elleth had her hands wrapped around her arms, but Arwen noticed her nails digging into her left upper arm.

"I never truly knew why. Bilbo came to me when he had passed and gave me Thorin's ring, speaking about my new title. From my memory, I remember him speaking about it being a title given to me by the dwarves after I had quarreled with Legolas," Coruwen explained. "Ever since the Battle of Five Armies, I have been known to that region as Dragon Queen. Such a title no longer befits me."

"Coruwen," Arwen murmured. The elleth's own heart ached at the somber tone of her cousin. "There would be no other for such a title."

Coruwen whirled around with a certain quality that made Arwen jump. Her eyes were dark with anger. Her voice became stern as she spoke, "That is a lie; I am no longer that which you and the others remember."

With that, Coruwen departed the stable area. Arwen shook her head, feeling terrible. Many things came to her mind, but she put them aside. All of her life, Coruwen had been an older sister to her; they were close once, but as of late she seemed to be growing apart from her. She was far out of reach, turning into a living shadow. In her heart, Arwen felt as if she did not know the entire story of how the Battle of Five Armies played out. There were pieces Coruwen left out or had forgotten that made the maiden question her cousin's authenticity of the tale. Only one person knew what truly happened without beating around the bush. A certain hobbit would tell her everything.

"Ithil, Iavas, back inside!" Arwen ordered. The mares' attention snapped to her as they came trotting up to her with their heads held high in the cool autumn breeze. She placed the mares back inside of their stalls before walking around Imladris for Bilbo. She checked in every place that would see logical for a hobbit to go, and finally deduced that he must've been in the Hall of Fire.

Few elves sat in the dimly lit hall, but Arwen found Bilbo in a corner writing in his leather book with a strange amount of fervor. He was peculiar to her, and it was so strange that he enjoyed busying himself similar to the way her own people did. As she approached him, Bilbo slammed his book shut and gave Arwen a bow of his head.

"Greetings, Lady Undomiel," Bilbo greeted setting his book on the floor. Arwen gave him a genuine smile and sat beside him in the window seat, "And to what do I owe the pleasure of having you in my presence?"

Arwen giggled at the use of words, "I have come desiring to ask you a question." She said, and the hobbit gave her a small tilt of his head. Quietly, she began, "I wish to know what happened to Coruwen after the passing of Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews."

Bilbo's elderly face became downcast as he picked up his red book; his gaze sorrowful. He flipped through the parchment to a page where Bilbo sighed heavily. Slowly, he handed the book to her. Arwen saw a picture of Erebor standing tall and proud above masses of mangled bodies all with distorted faces of agony. Tentatively, Bilbo spoke.

"It was a day that no song could cure; the only words were of sadness and the wails of people mourning their lost loved ones. If you listened close enough, you could still hear the guttural chants of troll drums along with the thundering of horse hooves upon the parched ground of the Desolation of Smaug. It was a day that I wish I could go back and erase.

For you see, Coruwen had been instructed to remain behind with the healers and Freya in the encampment, and upon the return of the elves, dwarves, and Men; Thorin and the boys weren't among them. She instantly fled to Legolas, and together they rode out. I had awoken after they had returned. According to Gandalf, Coruwen had found Fili dead and Kili passed away in her arms. But Thorin still drew breath; though what he drew was little. I remember looking upon Coruwen and seeing pain along with great sorrow. Thorin forced her from his side so that she may not have mourned him….

As she left, I saw a certain glint in her eyes fade. As Thorin lie before me, practically willing himself to hang on; he gave me one last command.

"Coruwen will no doubt grieve me and I want you to be there for her when she breaks." Thorin told me with his voice hoarse. In his hand sat a small silver ring, that I had seen on a chain once before. It struck me then and there as I looked at him; that he wanted her to be reminded of him in a happy memory, not one of sadness. "I name her Dragon Queen, like the Dragoness she serves. Do not let her forget that title…"

He pressed the ring into my hand and gave me a faint, tired smile. And as he spoke before passing, I saw all of the lights leave his eyes and he slipped under the influence of death. Then it came…

Bilbo shut his eyes tightly, and Arwen patted his hand softly. "Continue, my friend," Arwen urged. The hobbit's brown eyes became soft, almost teary. "What came?"

Bilbo drew a sharp breath. "I cannot speak anymore, my lady. The memory is still very strong and very painful in my mind," Bilbo whispered. "I am truly sorry." Indeed he was very sorry; it was written all over his face as Arwen gazed down at him. She pressed a gentle hand against his own, and he clutched her hand tightly.

"I begin to understand," Arwen murmured. She was starting to piece together Coruwen's story bit by bit. "My cousin is no longer the once proud lady she was, and I fear that as time goes on. I will lose her to that memory."

Bilbo gave her a firm look, which she found mildly startling. "Thorin's memory is what broke the dragon's back…" The hobbit stated, drawing Arwen's attention. His hands tightened around hers, such force was strange for one so small. But Arwen knew that Bilbo cherished Coruwen's company a great deal; almost as much as herself. "Now, we must find a way to fix the dragon's broken back."

Arwen felt her stomach tie itself into knots over and over. She needed to find Coruwen, quickly.

Coruwen had grown tired of Arwen's badgering, and she had fled from her cousin. She had run to a small clearing nearest the river outside of Imladris' borders. The sound of the Bruinen's roaring waters in her ears dulled out her surging sorrow. Why did she break? All Arwen had asked was to tell her what happened after the Battle of Five Armies… But something had snapped; something always snapped. The elleth trembled as she dipped her fingers into the river's smooth flowing waters. Crystalline waters flowed up and over her palm like clear silk as it rushed along in its merry path. She let out a sigh as she let the water run over her hands. Behind her, Coruwen heard horse hooves crunching river stones and then there was a thud as a rider dismounted its steed.

"Coruwen," A voice said gently. Legolas stood behind her, watching her intently. Her gold hair rested upon her shoulder and her pale face rueful. She drew her knees near her chest and she looked up at him with her blue eyes distant. Legolas walked up to her, kneeling down beside her with an arm wrapping around her shoulders. "What are you doing out here?"

"It does not concern you," Coruwen growled into her arms. She did not need to look up at him to know his expression. He was irritated by her words… His hand that rested on her shoulder tightened as she shifted her eyes up. "Leave me alone…"

"What did I tell you the last time you said those exact same words?" Legolas asked, his tone becoming playful. A smirk crossed his fair face, and lightened his storm grey eyes. Coruwen withheld a deep sigh of annoyance, knowing that he had saved her from too many emotional distresses. "Well?"

"You said you could not leave me," Coruwen repeated trying to match his typical arrogant tone. He frowned as she mocked him and he removed his hand. Her tone dropped back to its normal hollow one again; strangely mocking him brought her a strange joy but not enough to smile or laugh… "My memory has not failed me of that incident."

"Aye, that it has," Legolas drawled. "Now, what are you doing out here by yourself?"

Coruwen narrowed her eyes at the Bruinen. "The past has been haunting me as of late," She murmured. The prince shook his head in disbelief. "You did not have people die in front of you…"

Legolas' gaze became stern. "No, I almost lost someone very close to me. I saw my kindred being slain in front of me, but when the battle ended I nearly lost my father to his own insolence and you to a beyond ridiculous reason."

Coruwen shot him a small glare through the folds of her dress. "Legolas…"

The prince sighed shortly. "Chastising you won't fix anything… But you shouldn't hide from others because you afraid to voice your emotions. You are hiding…"

"I am not."

"Really?"

"You do not possess the right to chastise me like a child. I know what I am doing. I do not need you to babysit me."

"I have been doing it for years… Why should I change?"

Coruwen looked over at the river and then stood. "In any case, I suggest you stay to your own priorities and I stay to mine, prince. I am returning back to Imladris, if you wish to follow me then so be it."

He took that moment to stand and follow her with his horse following him like a lost puppy. He watched her walk ahead of him almost appearing like a spirit. Her dress floated around her in waves of grey and grass green that were contrasting her gold hair and pale complexion. He could have sworn he saw her old self shining through that mask she wore. A piece of him wanted to fix her, but his father had told him to let her fix herself. If she wanted to be fixed, then she would tell him. If not, she would stay as she was. He desperately did not desire the latter.

"Coruwen!" Arwen's voice cried once they entered the carved walkways of Imladris. He saw Coruwen stiffen as Arwen rushed at her in a flurry of silver fabric and dark waves. There was a certain gleam of worry in the daughter of Elrond's eyes as she looked her cousin over that Legolas had never seen before. Quickly, her gaze snapped up to his, "Thank you, Prince Legolas."

For a moment, Legolas was caught off guard by Arwen's statement; but he managed a short bow of his head. The ellith walked off leaving Legolas with his horse, which was sniffing his hair with a strange fervor. He heard a snicker behind an aspen tree and beside it stood Himon.

Behind the tree emerged Calenfaire, who was smirking proudly at the horse. He was dressed in identical garb as his older brother. Legolas whirled on his horse, making the gelding take a step back in fright.

"I give the horse credit, he actually likes you," Himon mocked. Legolas rolled his eyes at the general, who walked toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You cannot fix everything, my lord."

"Do not remind me," Legolas muttered. The gelding nudged him in the back and he yelped in surprise. Calenfaire let out a hearty laugh with his hand gripping the reins of the horse. Legolas shot the horse a glare. "Not funny, horse."

The horse shook his mane out as if in retort which made the ellyn smile. "I'll go put him up before he starts causing trouble," Calenfaire stated as he led the horse off towards the stables. Legolas shifted his gaze upward to Himon, who had abandoned his side to perch himself up in the aspen tree.

"Remember what the Elvenking said, my prince." Himon reminded. Legolas placed a hand over his eyes. He mentally told Himon to get out of his head. "And no, I will not get out of your head."

Legolas' snapped his gaze up to the smirking general; feeling like the ellon was reading his mind. Himon played with the tip of his braid like an elfling. "Stop that," Legolas scolded.

"Stop what?" Himon laughed. He stood, balancing himself on the tree similar to one of the Galadhrim Marchwardens. He was like an agile fox when it would run throughout the forest; the way Himon stood on the branch was a copy of how foxes start across a log. "You are an easy read, my prince. After all, I watched you being trained as a young elfling."

"Your father trained me, thank you."

"I know, you were the first and last student he had outside of family."

"Anyway, how did you know what I was thinking when all thoughts are in my mind?" Legolas felt his irritation boiling in his blood as he watched Himon step down from one high branch to a lower one.

"I am a firm believer that my brother has magical telepathy, but that is physically impossible," Calenfaire said as he appeared beside the prince, slightly frightening him. Legolas mentally growled; he was getting tired of being caught off guard today. If someone made him jump one more time, there might be a small reckoning. Calenfaire walked up to the aspen tree and gave it a hard kick in the trunk; knocking Himon out his perch. Himon glared up at his little brother with contempt glowing in his cerulean eyes. "I just know that my brother can read people in a simple glance. He has been around you and me so much that he just knows."

"You are correct, pup," Himon replied. The reply was followed by a low growl that made the ellon chuckle in victory over his brother. "However, you have been on edge lately. Tell me what has been bothering you."

Legolas felt a nagging feeling tear at his soul in attention. The Nazgûl appearing along with Coruwen's strange behavior were quite bothersome. Maybe it was the fact he wasn't home to ensure the safety of his people… His mind became filled with the sound of 'maybe', and it was giving him a headache. He looked up at the swirling autumn sky with the mixing colors of white and grey. He cleared his head by watching the thin, sheet like clouds. His mind told him that the Nazgûl were his biggest bothers. "The Nazgûl have been on my mind." He told them.

Calenfaire physically shivered, moving closer to his older brother. Himon put his hand on the side of his head and pushed him away. Their relationship reminded Legolas of one he had long ago… It plucked various heartstrings like a string instrument, making his heart ache.

"That is understandable, my lord. The Nine being abroad is bothersome, but that is not what is bothering you." Himon agreed with his voice becoming questioning. Legolas mentally rolled his eyes. Himon was perceptive; a trait that Calendir, Himon and Calenfaire's father, possessed as well. Legolas knew this was why Himon was a general; nothing got by him. "Legolas, speak."

"It is nothing, Himon. The Nine have been in the forefront of my mind, and they bothering me. There is nothing else," Legolas replied shortly. Himon put up his hands in defense of the prince's snap, backing away from his perceptive nature. Legolas let out a breath as his irritation died down in the sea of emotion churning within his spirit. "I apologize for my outburst, Himon."

Himon chuckled, "Nonsense. I understand if you are on edge. You worry for our home, which is understandable."

Calenfaire leaned against the aspen tree, playing with the peeling, white bark. "Does Lord Elrond know if the Nazgûl came from Dol Guldur?" He inquired.

Both ellyn looked to the younger one with furrowed brows. In all honesty, they weren't sure. It seemed logical since Sauron had come from the old fortress many years ago, but they could have come from anywhere. Legolas knew one of the Nine lingered behind whilst the forces within grew. Which one lingered behind, he knew not. It could have been the Witch-King or Khamul since they were the closet to Sauron.

"I believe he doesn't," Himon muttered in thought. One long hand was curled over his mouth as he tapped his foot against the stone walkway. "I do not even know which one lingered."

Legolas ever so slightly narrowed his eyes at Himon. The general's lips curled up in a smirk when their eyes met, knowing he had spoken the words on the prince's mind. There was a heavy tension in the air as the ellyn thought over the position of the Sauron's lieutenants. Legolas' mind drifted off to when Sauron had proclaimed himself known amongst all folk of Middle Earth.

The day was cool, but dry as the scent of orc blood clung to the brisk winds. Battle had ensued that day with arrows whistling songs mingling into the screams of the trees. The ring of metal still clung to the belly of the winds, but the hisses of orcs, goblins, and the chanting of the Black Speech thundered against the sky's ceiling.

Legolas remembered how the fortress of Dol Guldur stood tall with its broken form, ruins practically crumbling away as the orcs clambered over its sides to stand aside for an unknown figure stepped through the crowd, parting the way like a knife. In fact, the parting created a V in its wake. Before them stood a frail creature, in the shape of a man, cloaked in a tattered black cloak. The creature raised its head with one amber eye staring down at the elves. The eye was the epitome of fear and power by itself.

It was Sauron, in a semi corporeal form.

Beside him stood nine figures cloaked in black cloth with blades at their hips and gauntlets of varying irons and designs. The figure closet to Sauron let out a shrill scream that held no equal on this earth. The elves cowered at the scream, many tumbling to the ground in agony. It seemed to make blood turn to ice in everyone's veins as the scream persisted. The beating leathery wings followed the scream; drawing many from their fear induced panic.

Hovering in the sky were ten fell beasts with silvery scales gleaming in the dim light with their serpentine bodies flexing heavily with each pump of their tattered wings. They let out a bellow and turned south, flying off to Mordor, taking the terrible shadow with them.

"I have a feeling Khamûl stayed behind," Himon stated.

Legolas looked up at the general with a bit of curiosity in his eyes. Himon returned the gaze, but his gaze was firm instead. "Why do you suggest that?" Legolas inquired.

Himon shifted the weight back onto his heels. "When Sauron fled, he would not leave Dol Guldur unchecked. Khamul is an Easterling, meaning he would be able to know the weaknesses of Erebor, Dale, Esgaroth, and Mirkwood. He is the most logical choice for the task of destroying the East." Himon explained. Calenfaire nodded in agreement, and Legolas bowed his head to the general's excellent idea. In truth, there was no easy way to depict the Nazgul from the other since they all appeared as black figures cloaked in heavy cloth. "The Witch-King of Angmar is the ruler of Minas Morgul, meaning he cannot leave his post in the old city, and the others are not high enough rank to control an army or keep tabs on a citadel."

"No wonder you are the right hand of my father," Legolas praised.

Himon bowed low. "No one else is best suited, my prince."

"That does not mean you get to be arrogant." Legolas chastised. Calenfaire snickered from his place behind the tree. The prince walked up to the general, placing his hand the ellon's shoulder. "That job belongs to someone else."

Himon looked surprised with a sly smile on his face. "Oh?"

"Whoever that person is, I don't know."

Calenfaire snickered, with an identical sly smile on his face to that of his brother. Had they not been parted by age, they could have mistaken for twins. The only quality that drew them apart was their height, and ever so slight drop in voice. "That aside, when are we going to return to Mirkwood?"

"When the Council is finished, the Ring-bearer is named, and the quest is made final," The prince instructed. "My father will want to know everything in the aftermath, thus I will send him a letter."

Both brothers bowed to their prince. "Of course, my lord," They said in unison.

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