A/N: Last part of this mini-excursion. This one really just elaborates on some things a touched point on in Chapter 40 that I didn't think of as I wrote it.

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On the third day, Ithilwen chose to ignore Legolas' presence altogether over breakfast. She really didn't want to start out the day angry, so she chose to stay silent for much of the meal. Occasionally she would glance out the corner of her eye and see him sulking. 'Good,' she thought to herself. 'He needs to see that I don't back down. So why they hell do I feel guilty?' She felt the guilt the night before as she finished the last touches on her Sweet Pea costume as she also finished off the bottle of Jack Daniels. Her dreams that night were nonexistent, or if she did dream she didn't recall anything. 'Better that way, after these past couple of days...'

"I fail to understand why these mortals would introduce letters with their logic," Erestor said flatly, looking down at the algebra textbook in his hands with distaste.

"I think it was the Greeks that started it," Ithilwen said with a frown. "I had to take remedial algebra in the beginning of college because my second year of the class in high school nearly failed me. The teacher was well-versed, he just didn't know how to teach it." She laughed, recalling a memory. "There were times we would brandish our test scores and compete to see who got the lowest marks! Poor teacher was so confused, but we had to find some humor in the bad situation."

"What was your lowest marks?" Elrond asked, inspecting the bookshelf. Both uncle and scholar had cornered her, wishing to talk with her about her mortal schooling days. They were presently standing before the bookshelves that housed all of her former textbooks, her framed high school diploma and college degrees, as well as other pictures and mementos from the events.

"A 67 out of 100," she replied. "Not bad, but it was borderline failing. I managed to squeak by somehow and get a satisfactory average so that I could graduate, course that was back when algebra was a required course to graduate."

"What is this?" Elrond lifted up a blue and gold silken band with Greek letters embroidered at the pointed end.

"That? I wore that with my cap and gown when I got my associate's degree," she pointed to one image in particular. "I started out at community college so I could take the remedial maths and get my core classes out of the way while I got used to the change of curriculum. That's the honor society, Phi Theta Kappa. Because my grades were high enough, I was invited to join the society, and I got to wear the colors when I graduated."

Neither ellon understood completely, but they both looked pleased. "It is good that you have not missed an education while you have been here," Elrond told his niece.

"Even if what I learned won't matter in middle earth?"

"What you know will make for interesting stories to tell your children one day," Erestor told her.

Ithilwen frowned at that. "I don't see that happening."

"Nonsense, Little Star. Do not let things that have occurred recently affect where your destiny lies for the future."

"Are you trying to tell me to go forgive Legolas?" she eyed him warily.

"We just want you to return to your former, happy self," Elrond assured her. "We do not like seeing either yourself or Legolas in this distress."

"He's the one that needs to apologize-"

"We never said otherwise."

Up in her room, Arwen, Eowyn, and Tauriel were making themselves at home going through her closet and containers, finding all of the different clothing styles and pieces of jewelry fascinating. Ithilwen sat on her bed, thumbing through a Pyramid Collection cataloge while Fiona sat in her desk chair silently. Fiona had brought up the piece of mail for her, and would have turned to leave had Ithilwen not invited her in. They were still on rocky ground, but at least Ithilwen was speaking directly to her today and not telling her where she could get off.

"So what can we expect when we get back to middle earth?" Fiona asked finally. She had taken note of how intricately detailed the gowns the women had been wearing, wondering if she would ever get to wear something so nice.

Arwen scrunched up her nose as she thought. "It will be a bit of social and cultural shock to you both, but you are considered noblewomen, so you will have both more freedoms as well as expectations in public."

"Will I have to drink tea with my pinkie out?" Fiona imitated the motion, making Ithilwen snort for the first time in days.

"Only if you want to," Eowyn offered. "In my homeland the women are taught defensive maneuvers with swords. Before the war I was a shieldmaiden of Rohan, and I was prepared to die to defend my country."

"And now?"

"Now I am the princess to the new steward of Gondor," she smiled. "I no longer wish to go to war, for I have seen enough and bared witness to the death of my uncle in the same battle. If it was not for Lord Aragorn I would have perished that day." She looked gratefully to Arwen, and a small part of her still felt shame for the once-crush she had developed on her new friend's mate.

"What about you, Tauriel?" Fiona turned to question her next.

"I am every bit the noblewoman and princess of Eryn Lasgalen as I am its captain. When duty calls me to patrol, I do so. If I am to be present for a gathering my adar is hosting, I will stand as his daughter."

"And when we traveled to Gondor she was both the princess and the guard," Arwen chuckled. "It was most amusing to see her personas change from inquiring princess to alert captain."

"I never said I could do it flawlessly."

"What about you, Arwen?" Ithilwen asked. "What is your role now?"

"I will stand with Estel and be his queen," her cousin smiled. "I hope that we will be able to forge alliances with the remaining elven kingdoms that have not sailed yet. Now that the war has passed, many will likely sail to Valinor in peace, but I hope to gain influence from my kin as we pass into the Fourth Age and the Dominion of Men arrives."

Fiona looked around at these women, suddenly feeling as small as Ithilwen felt in that moment. Neither one had any great feats to speak of that compared to what these women had done or planned to accomplish. By all accounts they were insignificant in comparison, even if they were to be classified as noblewomen. "I've got a lot to live up to, don't you think, Ithilwen?" she laughed.

"You should not compare yourself to any one of us," Arwen told her. "You will do many great things when you return, so do not fear the unknown."

"Well, you guys have plans-"

"I don't," Ithilwen interrupted her.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. I have no ambitions, no goals, and nothing to look forward to in the foreseable future."

"What about my brother?"

Ithilwen looked tiredly at Tauriel. "What do you mean?"

"Surely you will not stay angry with him forever?"

"No," she shook her head. "No, it won't be forever...but he has to earn back my respect once he finally apologizes."

Tauriel nodded in satisfaction. "I agree. He's lucky I haven't jumped him for the way he's been acting; he knows better! I can't begin to imagine what's gotten into him!"

Ithilwen looked down at herself, wearing a Mushroom Kingdom babydoll tee and jeans with ripped and worn holes in the legs. 'Noblewoman, huh? I wonder what they'd think if they saw me now?'

Outside, she was reclining on the porch railing and listening to Eomer, Faramir, Aragorn, and Gimli trade battle scar tales as they smoked their pipes. Oddly, it reminded her of an old school friend's Sunday family dinners. The men would sit out on the porch and grumble about the stupidest things over pipes or bottled beers in the afternoon while the kids played in the yard. Sometimes they would have interesting stories to tell. Now whether they were true or not was up to debate, but they were captivating enough to get five or six little butts to sit still for hours.

So when the conversation switched from Gimli's famed toss at Helms Deep to the topic of her, she nearly lost her balance on the railing.

"Ye got to forgive the lad," Gimli told her. "He's really upset about the whole thing."

"He has to apologize," she said simply.

"What happened, exactly?" Aragorn asked, hoping to have some light shed on the situation.

Sadly, that was not going to happen. Whatever took place left Ithilwen tight-lipped on the matter, and she refused to elaborate. "He hurt me, that's all I'll say."

Eomer frowned. "He did not strike you, did he?" He wasn't familiar with the mannerisms of elves, and while Ithilwen was an enigma to everything he was slowly learning, he couldn't imagine the archer prince to do something so horrendous as hit a female.

"No," she shook her head. "He just hurt my feelings, and I can't forgive that easily."

"That's good," Faramir told her. "By doing so you would forfeit your beliefs."

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome, my lady," the steward said. "Although, if you forgave him sooner, things might return to normal around here."

Ithilwen groaned and let her head hit the support behind her. "You men are impossible."

"Yet you women require us to continue life," Aragorn reasoned, "thus you have to contend with us."

"Estel, science has proven that women don't require a man to physically supply his fertilizer for creating life. It's called insemination."

"Yes, but how do you propose to bear a child without an elf to plant the seed?" Gimli laughed.

She narrowed her eyes and playfully glared at them. "I don't know, I'll bring a turkey baster with me to middle earth and milk an elf in the middle of the night!" Ithilwen got some satisfaction out of hearing them choke on their pipes.

"Would that even work?" Aragorn wheezed, trying to regain his breath.

"We'll get Arwen to use you as a guinea pig the next time you make her mad," his cousin responded smugly.

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A/N: I think that covers some of the gaps from the three days. What'd you think? Again, it was just one of those diversions that wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. Chapter 48 is coming along slowly; real life has me tied up but I'm trying to make time.