Chapter Seven

"Do not worry, my Lord. She will sleep as long as she needs," a voice said, clearly attempting to pacify someone. A healer?

"Do you know when that is?" a familiar voice asked, sounding worried. She knew that voice, but how?

"No, my lord. I can stay with her, if you wish? You shall be notified as soon as she wakes," the healer assured the other.

"No. I will stay with her," the second voice commanded, sounding closer than before. "Leave me." This voice was deep and comforting, even with a cold tone.

"Very well, my lord," the healer said. There were footsteps, growing fainter. A door opening and then closing.

The rustle of fabric. A warm hand clasping her own. Another warm hand joining it to cup her hand. Warm breath on her ear. "Sleep well, my daughter. I will be here when you wake," the comforting voice assured her, speaking lowly into her ear.

Her breath caught. She did know the voice! It was her father! Why could she not move? She was home! She was awake! She had to show him!

Finally, her lips moved, allowing her to whisper, "Ada..." (Father...)

In under a seconds, one of the hands had left her hand, seeming to fly to her face, where it cupped her cheek gently. "Mirilas, sellath nin, non si." (Mirilas, my daughter, I am here.)

Mirilas tried her hardest to squeeze her father's hand, only managing a small amount of pressure, but he had felt it. Her father squeezed her hand in return before bringing it to his lips to press a reassuring kiss to her fingers.

"Na hanar si?" she asked weakly, struggling to open her eyes.

"Non si, nethig," (I am here, little sister) her brother's voice reassured her from the other side of her. She felt more hands, one clasping her shoulder and the other taking her hand in an eager grasp.

"Edro lye hin lin?" (Can you open your eyes?) her brother nearly pleaded.

Mirilas tried again to open her eyes, finally succeeding. Thankfully, her room was dimly lit. It must be night. Only then did the caverns take on such a glow.

She was in her room, in her bed. She had missed the feel of her sheets, her blankets, though not nearly so much s she had missed her family. She was home.

Her father and brother were on either side of her, each clutching a hand. Her cheek felt cold as her father moved his hand to tangle it in her hair. "Man plada lye?" (How do you feel?) her father asked as he combed his fingers through her hair as he had since she was very little.

"Lom. Lhaew... Bar."(Tired. Weak...Home.) Mirilas said, attempting to blink away her weariness.

"Idh, nethig. Min tirathar lye," (You can sleep, sister. We will watch over you.) her brother said softly.

"Daro," (Wait) she urged them, trying with every bit of strength she had to push off the urge to sleep again. She had to tell them. This could not wait, even if she could do nothing until she was stronger. "Le baur golodh sen." (You must know this.)

"Man?" (What?) Legolas asked gently, urging her to continue.

"Ten darathar," (It can wait,) their father, seeing the weariness that seemed to permeate her entire being. There were few things indeed for which he would forestall her recovery.

"Golodhon an i Erin Galen athair!" (I know why the Greenwood is sick!) she said, her voice gaining a little strength.

Thranduil sighed. She had only just arrived, and already she could sense the sickness of the forest. The Elven King placed a hand on her cheek and said to her seriously, "I fuin loathant Dol Guldurello, Mirilas, ar met udara i loa!" (The darkness has been growing from Dol Guldur, Mirilas, but there is nothing we can do!)

Mirilas stopped him, shaking her head briefly. "Uar," (No) she whispered. "Thanden i erin i lumbulegulello. Ennathon thand," (I kept the forest shielded from the dark before. I can do it again.) she said in determination.

Both brother and father looked speculative for several seconds, each realizing that the forest had degraded only after she had left. Legolas could not help but draw a comparison between the forest's decline and his fathe's decline in his sister's absence.

Thranduil smiled in relief and pride and kissed his daughter's forehead. "Isten i eryn gurthadim ulye, tithen nin," (I thought the forest seemed to mourn your absence, my little one) he said fondly.

Legolas said with hope as he reached out to embrace his sister where she lay, "Lye edraith i erin!" (You can save the forest!)

"Na, uar idhathar erui," (Yes, but I need to rest first) Mirilas said, closing her eyes and bowing to the demands for sleep her body was making.

"Idho maer, sellath nin," (Sleep well, my daughter) their father said softly as she sank back into a restful sleep.


"Dol Guldur, the Hill of Sorcery," Gandalf said, peering up at the old fortress through the twisted, dead trees.

"It looks completely abandoned," Radagast commented.

"As it is meant to," Gandalf returned, recognizing the disguise for what it was. "A spell of concealment lies on this place," Gandalf explained, "Which means that our enemy is not yet ready to reveal himself. He has not regained his full strength."

Gandalf turned to look very seriously at his fellow wizard. "I must ask you to carry a message to the Lady Galadriel. Tell her: we must force his hand."

"You mean-" Radagast began to ask, not believing that Gandalf would walk into so dangerous a place.

"Once you have carried the message the Lady, you must go to the Woodland Realm. We need the young sorceress Mirilas," Gandalf continued.

"But are you-" Radagast began to ask again.

"I will go in alone," Gandalf confirmed. He bent in further to impress upon Radagast, "On no account come in after me."

Radagast glanced at the fortress in apprehension before returning to his sled and his rabbits.

"Do I have your word?" Gandalf called to Radagast as he continued to watch the fortress in speculation.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," Radagast said dismissively without looking back.

After heaving in a deep breath, Gandalf walked down to the bridge.

"Wait, Gandalf!" Radagast called after his friend.

Gandalf paused along the bridge.

"What if it's a trap?" Radagast asked.

"Turn around, and do not come back," Gandalf instructed his friend before saying more quietly, "It's undoubtedly a trap."


Mirilas slowly opened her eyes to the light shining into her room from the shaded window set into the far wall. It was a bright, autumn morning, and she was home.

She took in a deep breath as she stretched her arms before slowly rolling onto her side, feeling already much stronger than when last she woke. Only then did she notice her brother gazing down at her from a chair beside her bed with a book lying open on his lap. "Maer aur, nethig," (Good morning, sister) he said serenely as he closed his book and set it aside before leaning forward in his chair. "Pladam maer?" (Feeling better?) he asked as his hands moved to smooth the stray locks from her face.

"Ubelt, uar maera," (Not strong, but better) she answered as she moved to take one of his hands in hers. "Buinen le, hanar nin," (I have missed you, my brother) she assured him as she gripped his hand.

"Ar im le," (And I you) he returned with a smile before reclaiming his hand to retrieve her robe from it's place in the wardrobe for the past century. He laid the robe over the back of his chair before helping his sister to sit up in bed and move to the edge of the bed. Now, as he helped her with what should be a simple task, he could see just how weak the spell had left her curiously vacant expression. In the new silence no longer marred by the sounds of fabric shifting, the siblings heard footsteps tracing a path back and forth in the corridor. He had forgotten of his sister's caretaker. The poor ellon had been pacing the hallway just in front of her door for almost as long as he had been watching over his sister's rest this night.

"Feren," Legolas said lightly as he sank down to sit beside her on the bed.

His sister smiled fondly at him before turning her head to call softly toward the door, "Feren?"

The elf's reaction was almost instantaneous. The door opened rather abruptly, and Feren hurried into the room as he said, "My lady! You have woken!"

Mirilas smiled gently at him and said, "Yes. mellon nin." (my friend)

"Feren, would you please get my sister something to eat?" Legolas asked, wrapping his arm around her waist as she began to lean into his side for support.

"Of course, my Lord," Feren said with a quick bow before leaving, seeming at the same time reluctant to leave and eager to serve.

Once the door was closed, Legolas shifted his sister to prop her up against the wall in bed. He tenderly adjusted her robe to lay over her legs before rising to lay out a dress for her.

"What would you like to wear?" he asked as he opened her wardrobe to look through her gowns.

Mirilas turned her head to look over at the wardrobe she had not seen for a century. These gowns seemed to be but a distant memory compared to her time with her father and brother. There were gowns of blue, silver, green, and every colour of which she could think. What did they matter when she was finally home? "You choose," she said, offering a thin smile to her brother.

As her brother fished through the gowns, Mirilas watched her brother carefully while asking, "How has Tauriel been?"

Legolas stilled instantly as his head shot up so that he could look at his sister with wide eyes. "Why do you ask?" he asked, attempting to hide the emotion in his voice.

"You were fond of her when I left," Mirilas said with a playful grin on her face.

"W-what do you mean?" Legolas asked, a quaver in his voice.

"You know very well what I mean, hanar. I am your sister. I know you well enough to know when you are in love," (brother) Mirilas responded easily as she laid her head against the wall as gently as she could manage.

Legolas quickly grabbed the dress in his hands and laid it over the back of the chair beside her bed as he returned to his sister's side. He took one of her hands in his but refused to meet her eyes as he admitted quietly, "I love her."

Mirilas sat up from her lax stance against the wall to hug her brother. "I knew it," she said happily before assuring him, "You can trust me with this."

Before either of them could say any more, the door swung open again, this time allowing an elleth into the princess's room. "Isn't that sweet? My two little elflings having a reunion," she said in a sweet tone.

The siblings broke away as Mirilas said, "Mae govannen, Rigbrethil." (Hello)

"'Mae govannen'? Is that all I get, Child, after how long you have been gone?" Rigbrethil asked as she hurried over to the siblings to sweep Mirilas up in a warm hug.

"I missed you, too, Rigbrethil," the little princess responded before pressing her face into the older elleth's shoulder. Rigbrethil had raised her as much as her father after her mother's untimely death.

"Le na vana autant," (You are more beautiful than ever) Rigbrethil returned, making her fondness for Mirilas evident. The nurse squeezed her close one more time before breaking away from her former charge to scold him lightly, "What are you still doing in here, Legolas? Your sister needs to change! Go out in the hall!"

Legolas chuckled a little, slightly in disbelief that the nurse would address him thusly and accepting of her at the same time. This was, after all, the woman that had raised them while their father was busy doing his royal duty. Legolas rose from his seat on his sister's bed to wait in the hall as requested, much as Feren had been waiting before his sister had woken.

As the door closed behind him, Rigbrethil plucked the robe from Mirilas' shoulders and began to undress her while launching into what she deemed to be the important news of the Woodland Realm from the last century.

"You remember that cook Belthil that gave you little pastries after lunch? He started making pastries every day for Heledh, your maid, and he finally approached her last year! They have mated! And, there is Fennas, the guard with the two missing fingers. He has been lusting after Leuca, the woman that cleans the library, but Leuca has been trying to catch the attention of Nenar, your father's guard. But, you know Nenar is mated to Quetta, the seamstress. But, Heledh heard Leuca talking with Gelin, your brother's lieutenant. Heledh said that Leuca said that Gelin wanted to mate to Leuca, but Orithil still loves Gelin and still will not admit it. And-"

Rigbrethil was interrupted in her avalanche of rumours by a knock at the door. Instantly, Mirilas' hands flew to her chest only to realise that as the nurse had talked her ear off, she had slipped the dress on her. There was nothing to shield, for she was completely dressed.

"Come in!" Mirilas called, turning toward the door as Rigbrethil reached for her hair.

Legolas strode into the room followed closely by Feren, who held a small tray of fruit in his hands. As Feren brought the food to his mistress, Legolas moved to sit near his sister, prepared to wait until Rigbrethil thought she was ready.

As the nurse began to braid Mirilas' hair, she continued to tell the siblings rumour after rumour of who was in love with whom and who had mated with whom. Mirilas listened closely at first, but her attention began to waver as she enjoyed the feeling of her nurse's fingers working through her hair as lock by lock she braided the platinum strands together.

Mirilas was started from this lull as Rigbrethil's hands stilled. The elf princess looked up from where she had been absently staring at her hands in her lap to see her father striding toward her, gesturing for the nurse to leave. While both siblings were fond of Rigbrethil, they were also glad that her presence was being replaced by their father. He knew when to be silent.

"You have duties, do you not, Legolas?" their father asked evenly before Rigbrethil shut the door.

Legolas sighed and rose to his feet, quickly promising his sister, "I will see you later today," before he followed the nurse out. He had not meant to avoid his duties. Apparently, not even the return of his sister was important enough for him to gain even an hour's reprieve from his duties to spend with his sister.

"Ni le maan hi aur, mirig nin?" (How are you feeling this morning, my little jewel?) Thranduil asked as he strode over to her.

"Maan," (good) she tried to assure him. However, her body betrayed her. She tried to stand to embrace her father, but her legs collapsed under her, refusing to hold her weight. Thranduil caught her before she could hit the floor, but instead of placing her back on the bed, he scoopedher up into his arms, holding her as effortlessly as when she was a baby.

"Indon le golodhad vior, Miri," (I think you should just read today, Miri) he said gently. "Aniriel le dartha sinome uar?" (Would you like to sit somewhere else?)

"Usi," (Not here) she responded, resting her head against her father's chest.

He chuckled lightly as he strode out of her room and down the corridor, motioning with his head as he passed for Feren to follow them.