OMG i'm back! it's been like forever since i last updated i'm so sorry! i've been super busy. this chapter is a little shorter than normal because of it. also, IMPORTANT NOTICE: in this fic we're pretending that the elf who was galadriel's husband in the books just doesn't exist. i forgot to mention that last chapter in my a/n, sorry. also, her daughter who married elrond doesn't exist either. this fic is already AU so they're just not in the story.


I am pissed, to sum it up. I asked the Lady of Light to tell me the story of my parents. And she made one up.

Well, maybe she didn't. She told me the story truthfully but very obviously neglected to inform me that she is, in fact, my mother, and that Gandalf is my father.

Which sends the classic wince of awkwardness crawling into my shoulders.

"Legolas, why hide the truth?" I ask him for the hundredth time, as we walk side by side through the plains of Rohan. "Why would she hide that from me? Why would Gandalf hide that from me? I mean obviously they believed it best that I either figure it out myself or not know at all, but why?"

"Saerinil, think. Everything about you- your fake name, the riddle on your sword, it all points to the idea of leading people in the wrong direction regarding your heritage. You are a very powerful weapon in a very dangerous war. It was to protect you from the forces of darkness. Now that you know who you are, you can harness your power. Sauron would want that power as a weapon for himself. Better you were shielded, not knowing the extend of your magic, so that Sauron would not hunt for you."

I sigh quietly. "I know. I understand. It just kind of hurts knowing that they lied to me."

"Did you ever think to look at that necklace Lady Galadriel gave to you?"

I shake my head. "No. I kind of figured that wearing it would help me control my power. And that's all it is."

"What if it's more?"

But before I can answer, we are ambushed by fifty men on horses. They surround us, and I recognize them as the Rohirrim. I'm not quite sure how I know that, except once more I hate that my mind is wiped of all my knowledge of Tolkien's books, except for names and places.

"Eomer." I step forward, and he dismounts his horse.

"How do you know who I am?" Legolas steps protectively in front of me, but I push him lightly to the side, wanting to hold my own ground.

I say nothing, waiting for Aragorn to speak up.

"We are the company of Gandalf Greyhame. I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. We are hunting a pack of urukhai across the plains, to retrieve two hobbits from their grasp."

Eomer bows his head. "Then I am sorry for your loss. We slaughtered the orcs and burned their carcasses. You may search for them, but I doubt you will find your friends."

He brings up two horses, offering them to us as a form of remorse. "May these horses guide you to better fortune than their former masters."

I remember this scene from the book. Something happens- a turn for the better, but I cannot put my finger on what.

Aragorn and Gimli mount one horse, and I mount the other behind Legolas, riding toward the carcass pile.

"I need to speak with Galadriel, when this is all over. I have a bone to pick with her, and while I doubt I'll get an apology or a real explanation, there aren't a great deal more half-truths she can tell me that I won't see for what they are."

Legolas says nothing, patiently listening to me vent my emotions, the shock of all this new information still soaking in. But still, behind that, there is a sense of surety. There is that little part of me that I ignored that suspected all along.

"There was something Galadriel said to me. 'Right now you would be in far too much danger if you knew the truth.' That was her excuse for not giving me the names. Do you think that was her way of saying 'I totally made the whole thing about your parents being friends of mine to get you off my case?'"

"No, I think that she was honest with you. You are in grave danger. If the urukhai find you, you will be taken to Sauron."

"Joy," I mutter bitterly, about to say something else, but the words die on my tongue as I see the heap of corpses smoking in front of us.

"There is no way they could have survived," I whisper, tears forming in my eyes, and Legolas draws me close. "They must have died."

Aragorn dismounts, but as he makes to vent his sorrow, drawing his sword and sticking it in the ground, his eyes catch another Elvish pin left on the ground, and he begins to follow a trail. I myself have little to no experience with tracking on such ground as this.

Then he stops before the entrance to Fangorn. Gimli gulps. "Are we going in there?"

I meet his eyes. "We must."

And so we walk into Fangorn. The trees are old, and I feel connected to them, as if they can speak with me. I place my hand on the trunk.

"It's an old forest," murmurs Legolas beside me, brushing a kiss to my cheek. "Can you feel the trees, reacting to your presence? They feel your power."

"It must remind you a little bit of home," I whisper back. "Back in the Greenwood."

"Somewhat," he says sadly. Then his ears perk.

"What is it?"

"Something… or someone… is following us."

I draw my sword, Celestion, watching the trees around us. The others do the same, feeling a presence draw near through the thick, old trees, their bark carved and cracked like words written into stone.

There is a flash of white light, blinding us for a moment, and then a familiar figure appears.

"Can it be?"

Book memories fill my mind, and I know in an instant who has returned to us.

"Gandalf," says Legolas, as the light fades. "Can it be?" There is he is, standing before us as if he never fell into the darkness of Khazad-dum. His gaze traces over the remaining members of the fellowship until they come to rest on me.

His eyes soften, in what appears to be some sort of silent apology.

"Maethrian," he addresses me this time. "Is the past behind you now?"

I shrug, still surprised by his reappearance. "I'm more angry at Galadriel for lying to me." My eyes are hard, traces of a grudge still flecking their clear violet. "I want to talk later," I say hardly.

He dips his head. "How are you here? And so powerful?" asks Aragorn, his eyes wide with shock.

"It was not yet my time to depart. The eagles found me when I killed the balrog, and brought me to Lothlorien, where I was healed."

So Galadriel had saved him? Guilt, probably. Maybe my mind is delving into its more cynical side, but I don't care right now.

"We will rest in Fangorn for now. But tomorrow we will ride to Rohan, now that I can assure you that Merry and Pippin are safe."

"Aragorn, search the perimeter. Legolas and Gimli will round up your horses. There are some things I need to discuss with Saerinil."

They wander off, Legolas somewhat reluctant to leave my side. As soon as they are out of earshot, Gandalf turns to me.

"I am sorry for not telling you the truth," he says sincerely. "But I worried that once you knew, Sauron could access that information as well. And I am sorry for the… stretched, truth that was fed to you in Lothlorien. We made an agreement, before we sent you to another world, that there were things you could not know until the right time."

"Well what is the true story?"

He chuckles. "I was not always an old man, you know. During the first War of the Ring, I was young and strong, not unlike Aragorn, though far more powerful."

"That's reassuring."

"It was remarkable that you survived your first year of life. Even with Sauron defeated, there were still orcs running loose and danger lurking at every corner in the aftermath of war. That was when we made the decision to send you to Earth, where you would grow up and be safe. You are three thousand years old in Middle Earth years, but only twenty four years old in True Earth years. It is rather complex."

"No kidding," I grumble.

"Maethrian, these secrets were only witheld from you for your protection."

"So I've been told. But if I'd known about this power, I could have done so much more to help on this journey! I could have saved you!"

He chuckles. "Well, Maethrian, if you had saved me, I would not be with you now. Everything happens for a reason."

I sigh. "Why didn't she tell me the truth?" He knew exactly who I was talking about.

"She believed it would be best if you found out on your own. But she did tell you a story. I don't think she ever could resist a good story to tell, and I think the guilt of allowing you to slowly unlock your power without any sort of information or assistance finally tore through. She had to tell you something, but she could not tell you the whole truth."

"Well that's somewhat reassuring."

"Will you forgive her?"

"I'm still deciding that." I pull back my hair, knotting it into a long, flowing braid.

"Maethrien, you two are so alike. So stubborn and determinted to follow your own paths. You will grow to have her wisdom, when this war is over. You will understand why you've been kept in the dark all this time."

"Gandalf," I sigh, "What am I doing here?"

"I asked myself the same think, when I was young."

"Why are you no longer young, while the Lady Galadriel does not age?"

"When we return to Valinor, the years will peel away, and all will be as it was three thousand years ago save that there will be peace, but for now I have the guise of an old wizard."

"Is that why you could never marry?"

"Partly, but the union of so much power, especially in the age of the rings, was also advised against. Too dangerous. You must understand that your birth was kept a secret to all but Lord Elrond, who is your godfather. This secret must be kept, until Sauron is defeated. No one knows who they can trust in this age."

He falls silent as Aragorn and Legolas return, Gimli grumbling behind them, and when he speaks again, his voice is low. "And those who you trust could easily be frightened of you."

"But Legolas knows the truth. He helped me figure it out."

"If he does not fear you, Maethrien, then Legolas loves you. Be proud you have earned the heart and trust of the Prince of Mirkwood. Sindarin Elves do not offer that love easily, nor without reason."

I dip my head. I am reassured, slightly. But still my resentment towards Galadriel for lying to me remains. I am not as angry at Gandalf, for he has not offered me any information until now. And now he is giving me the whole truth. Galadriel tried to feed me half-truths, and even if it is for my protection, and even if she does love me enough to try and tell me a story, I don't like it when people aren't entirely honest with me. I am always honest with them.

Well, up until now.

I look at Aragorn and Gimli. Neither of them know entirely of my heritage. Aragorn probably suspects that I am the daughter of someone powerful, probably even that I am the daugher of Gandalf, but he doesn't know the whole truth. He doesn't know who my mother is; after all, there were many powerful Elves alive in the First Age.

And it looks like I can't tell them all I know yet. I will have to settle for exchanging true emotions with none but Legolas. And if nothing else is sure, my love for the Mirkwood prince is to be the constant in my life.


review plz! i missed having reviews to read while i was gone, and i will give you lembas bread for reviewing!1