Disclaimer: This is simply a fanfiction, I do not pretend to own the Lord of the Rings or any of the characters.

She reached her room without incident, and rushed inside before anyone could notice. She spent a few moments brushing her hair until it was smooth and shiny, focusing on breathing evenly and calming her frayed nerves.
Suddenly a head popped around her half-closed doors, Ildrith jumped, but managed to maintain her aura of calm as she reclined on the bed.
It was Othar. "Ildrith… Where have you been?"
She inclined her head politely, determined to set a good mood between them, she sat up and dangled her legs off the edge. "Evening brother-mine. I had a nap, and then went for a walk. I wanted to thank you, for organising these rooms for me. They are far too grand for me of course, but I appreciate them none the less."
Othar eyed her suspiciously, and then sighed in defeat, it was clear by the set of his shoulders that something good had happened. He might not even notice if she was a bit… off this evening. "You are welcome dear sister." He strode over and embraced her fondly, "Come, Lytham will meet us there."
Ildrith stood, and hurried to follow as Othar walked back out her room and turned right. To the dining halls then. He pause, allowing her to catch up, and took her arm in his so they could walk together.
Ildrith struggled to keep her eyes from searching the room as they crossed into the giant dining hall. This time was different, it was a lot fuller, there was music amidst the chatter, and every fire had a small crowd about it. Every table seemed full, the sheer number of elves had Ildrith hiding behind Othar as they picked their way towards the buffet tables.
Her brother stopped here and there to exchange pleasantries with the people, and Ildrith peeked from behind him on occasion to wave shyly at them even as they stared openly at her, many inquiring after her recovery. Suddenly Ildrith stopped and gaped at an overly full table near the edge of the hall. Those were Beornings. Othar noticed her hesitation, and walked back to her, a smile plastered on his face.
"Is that?..." She glanced at Othar, who nodded. Ildrith clasped a hand to her mouth as joy radiated through her.
Othar laughed, "Go on!" And Ildrith squealed.
She raced towards the table, unaware that she was turning many a curious head as she bumped into elves and tables alike.
"Igdan!" She yelled as she neared the crowded table.
One of the black heads popped up, and a Beorning boy of twenty-four turned his head to witness her coming.
"Ildrith!" He yelled, and leapt to his feet. The whole table erupted into chaos, and soon fifteen or so Beornings had abandoned their meals and were hugging her, clapping her on the back, or tussling her hair.
She couldn't help the tears of joy that welled up and spilled over at the sight of so many of her kin. Many of whom she hadn't seen since she was a child, but recognised purely from their scent as they embraced her fondly. Her childhood friend Igdan, whom she hadn't seen since she was sixteen when he left the village to join the Guards in the Mountains, came to her rescue. He grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the bench to sit beside him. The rest of the Beornings came back to sit by their meals, except for two who greeted their leader and helped Othar secure an extra table and benches so they could spread out a little.
Igdan turned and hugged her again once they were seated, and Ildrith laughed giddily.
"What are you doing here?!" She squealed, swatting him on the arm affectionately. He flinched and tussled her hair in retaliation, she reached up to push his hands away, "Alright, peace, peace!"
He chuckled and turned to his plate. Ildrith glanced down and gasped, "Where did you find honey cakes?"
"We brought them with, here you can have half. Only half!" He exclaimed as Ildrith grabbed a whole handful and stuffed it into her mouth. His laughter echoed from the ceiling as he poked her in the ribs so she spat half the cake out trying to control her ticklish response. "You wicked girl!" He laughed and took a deep drag from his mug.
Ildrith chewed as fast as she could, and sniffed the contents of his mug. Her nose crinkled, "Ugh, mead!"
Lytham, who had been sitting across from her the entire time, piped up, "Yuk! Close your mouth while you eat, you beast!"
Ildrith looked up at him, and her joy diminished somewhat. Suddenly she was pulled from the happy nostalgia, back into the complicated present as she remembered Lytham's embarrassing conversation with Legolas. She smiled tightly at him, and turned back to Igdan, she couldn't exactly confront Lytham about it anyway.
"So, what are you doing here?"
Igdan gestured to himself, "You are looking at a seasoned warrior now little cub!"
Ildrith's eyes bulged, "You fought in the war?" He nodded and took another drag of his mead. "Why?" She asked, and Igdan chortled into his drink.
"Why? Why not?"
Ildrith gaped, "Because… You could have died you fool!"
Every Beorning within earshot seemed to roll their eyes in unison, and Ildrith crossed her arms to sulk. Lytham laughed, "Not everyone is as soft hearted as you little sis."
Ildrith pouted, "Yeah, well…"
Igdan poked her cheek, "Quit scowling, you'll get wrinkles." Ildrith's lips twitched, quite unable to resist the joy of having her old friend back. "There's that smile. So what were you doing then, while the rest of us were slaving away on the battlefield?"
Ildrith giggled. Igdan never took anything seriously, and somehow he always found a way to turn the direst of circumstances into a trivial matter.
"I was safe at home actually."
He clutched his heart dramatically, "Oh the mere thought!"
Ildrith smacked him, "It wasn't all sun and daisies you know."
"Sure, sure. That's why you are living out the rest of your vacation here with the elves, is it?"
Ildrith rolled her eyes, "Hardly!"
Lytham took a bite of his dinner roll, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Actually Igdan, the village was attacked."
"What?" He said, his playful expression gone. "When?"
Ildrith held up a hand, "Lytham no."
Igdan picked at the wood of his mug and frowned, "Tell me."
Lytham raised his eyebrows at Ildrith and she sighed, "Fine, It was after you were finished fighting."
"What happened, were you okay?"
"I don't know… I sort of… Freaked out, lost control."
"You changed?" He asked, eyes wide.
"It's not a big deal," She said, a firm elbow poked into his ribs for emphasis.
"Ouch! But seriously, you?"
"I was going to learn eventually, you know. Othar was going to teach me when they got back."
"So, what happened?"
"I scared them off. But…"
"The blood-lust took you and you set off into the woods after them, intent on avenging the village all by yourself?" Ildrith's mouth popped open and Igdan laughed, "Seriously? Ugh you are so predictably stupid sometimes."
"Hey! Okay fine, it was stupid, I'll admit, but I got them."
His eyebrows shot up, "All of them?" She nodded with a smirk, "Woah, alright! That's impressive Lil, really."
Ildrith peeked up at him, touched that he remembered her old nickname. "Thanks."
Lytham sighed, "Finish the story sis."
"Oh, you can't just let me have my moment can you?"
Lytham smirked, but it was too tense to hold any true mirth. Igdan glanced between them and took a sip of mead, clearly something big had happened between the siblings.
"One of them managed to get me." Said Ildrith, her hand touched her side subconsciously and Igdan sucked a noisy breath in between his teeth.
"How did you survive?" He whispered.
Ildrith bit her lip, touched by the genuine concern that shadowed his eyes. Where was her carefree friend, the one who would have brushed this all off with a joke and a laugh? Igdan had grown up while they were apart.
"Ah, I was changed, obviously, and I had set up a medicine camp nearby." He startled her by laughing then. "What?"
He shook his head, "Nothing really, that's just another one of those things only you would do."
"Do you want to hear the rest of the story?"
He chuckled, "Yes, please continue."
Ildrith glared at him for a moment. "Anyway, so the one orc managed to stab me, his blade broke my arm without getting through, but that made the tip ricochet into my side right here." She touched the sensitive point just below her heart where the scar sat. She could see that Igdan was dying to interrupt her, but wisely bit his lip and motioned for her to continue. "I was in pretty bad shape. I changed back and passed out before I made it back to the camp. I woke up all wrapped in bandages."
"Who found you?"
"Ah it was Legolas, you know the, ah, the king's son. You shouldn't know him, he was fighting in the East when you were here. A dwarf named Gimli, and Legolas found me, and they patched me up. They were the ones I travelled here with."
"What?" said Igdan, picking up on Lytham's sudden tension.
"Nothing," said Ildrith, she glared at Lytham and repeated the word through closed teeth. "Nothing."
Lytham shrugged and looked away. Igdan pursed his lips and then shrugged.
"It sounds like you were quite lucky."
"Extremely!" Said Ildrith with a dry chuckle. "And yourself? How fared you during the Great War?"
Igdan brushed the air dismissivly, "Ah, nah, you don't wanna hear about that. I'm sure you are sick to death of the tale by now."
"Not really, come one, I want to hear your side of things."
"Another time perhaps, it looks like your brother is trying to catch your attention."
Ildrith looked up and around, she saw Othar standing some distance away. He waved her over when he saw her looking, and Ildrith sighed.
"I guess I better go see what he wants." She extracted herself from the crowded table, and touched Igdan lightly on his shoulder. "It was really great to see you again Ig."
He touched her hand briefly, "You too Lil."
She offered Lytham a parting smile, and waved goodbye to all the other people who noticed her parting.
Othar smiled warmly as she reached him. It heartened him to see her so happy in the company of her own people. He touched her on the shoulder and turned her to face across the room. Ildrith stifled a gulp, Legolas was seated at a small table with Gimli and one or two unfamiliar elves. They were dressed in overtly fancy garb, but seemed to be amicable enough together. Ildrith scanned the surrounding area, and saw that the table was placed a short distance from a set of stairs that lead up to a throne. Upon which sat Legolas's doppelganger. Ildrith blinked, and her brows furrowed, that must be Legolas's father.
"The King wishes to meet you." Othar said, startling her from her reverie.
Ildrith baulked, "Now? Why?"
"You are well enough now, and he wishes to meet the girl you caused his son's return to be shrouded in so much drama and intrigue."
Ildrith blushed and bit her lip. "But… I am not… dressed well enough."
Othar laughed, "When are you ever? Come, it would be rude to refuse him."
Ildrith swallowed and nodded, "Yes, that is true. I do need to thank him after all, why postpone it?"
Othar smiled and picked his way carefully through the crowded room. Ildrith followed carefully, wringing her hands together nervously. Anything could happen, there was simply no way to prepare herself. When she looked up, she saw that the King had noticed their coming, and began his descent from the throne.
By the time they reached him, he was standing at the bottom, a glass of wine in one hand. Ildrith kept her eyes on him, terrified what might happen if she so much as glanced in Legolas's direction.
Othar greeted him in elvish, and the king replied graciously before turning his uncanny eyes on Ildrith. She curtsied, unsure what else to do seeing as she didn't know a single line in the sing-song language they all suddenly seemed to speak. When she met his eye again, the king was smirking, his eyes thoughtful.
"My greetings to you Lady Ildrith," He said with a small inclination of his head and a twinkle in his eye. "It is a privilege to finally meet you."
Ildrith blushed of course, and stammered over her words, "Greetings, oh King. Thank you, for your kind words and your hospitality. It means a great deal to me that you have provided so freely for me and my kin."
"My kin and I." Corrected Othar cheekily, Ildrith glared at him briefly, and then turned back to watch the king.
He was studying her intently, trying to read her mind, of that she was certain. It was only natural for him to be curious she supposed. What she did not anticipate however was his next move.
He turned suddenly, and called out, "Legolas, come."
Ildrith blanched, and dug her thumb nail into the side of her middle finger to keep from reacting in any way. The king turned back to her.
"You are most welcome my dear." He said, "It is an honour indeed to entertain so many of your kind under one roof. Ah here now."
He held out a hand, and Legolas appeared from behind him and stood diligently by his side. The king patted his son lightly on the back, and Ildrith risked sneaking a peek at his expression. Legolas's lips were pressed in a tight line, and his back was stiff with tension. The king scrutinised him closely, and then his eyes shot up to study Ildrith with just as much depth. She squirmed, wondering what exactly he could see with those piercing eyes of his.
Othar watched the silent exchange with great interest. One sniff in his sister's direction had told him of her discomfort, and he fought the protective instinct in favour of pride, the king was about to confirm all his suspicions...
Thranduil's nostrils flared, in the space of a few seconds he seemed to have deduced all there was to know. He turned to his son, and Legolas flinched before he had said a single word.
"Legolas, ped!"
Legolas turned to his father and said a single line in Sindarin, too fast for Ildrith or her brother to catch. The king's eyes flashed dangerously, and Ildrith took half a step instinctively to protect Legolas. Thranduil's eyes turned on her, and she shrank away.
"Nae, hathand." He said sternly. He turned to Legolas, "Fine, we will discuss this later."
He looked to Othar, and smiled elegantly. Ildrith's hackles raised, it was almost impossible to detect the falsehood behind the King's warm smile. "It was very nice to see you both." He met Ildrith's fearful gaze with a burning intensity and added, "I am sure we will meet again, child."
Othar grabbed her arm when she remained planted despite the clear dismissal. Her eyes flashed to Legolas, and he shook his head infinitesimally. She allowed herself to be towed away, wondering how the King could be so perceptive.
They crossed the strange little bridge that separated the King from his subjects, and Ildrith shook her arm free. Othar turned to her and she held up a hand.
"I need to go and see Echanar." Othar raised an eyebrow and Ildrith sighed, "I'll see you in the morning, please Othar I can't do this right now. I am so tired."
He frowned, but motioned for her to go, turning his back on her without a word. Ildrith close her eyes and sighed. What a strange day.
She, rather shockingly, remembered her way back to the halls of healing. This time round she walked slowly, taking extra time to fully appreciated the brilliance of the elves' architecture along the way.
The halls were built into the side of the only decently sized hilltop in all Mirkwood, and, despite it being an underground fortress, Ildrith didn't feel the least bit claustrophobic. The halls were all adequately lit, and cool air blew past her in draughts of unidentifiable origin, carrying with them the scents of the forest. Guards littered every hallway, and she felt completely at ease knowing that if she became lost, they would be able to point her in the right direction.
Echanar was overly pleased to see her, remarking about the colour in her cheeks and spring in her step. He was just sitting to dinner when she arrived, and happily chatted with her about unimportant things while he ate. Giving her less of a physical analysis, and more of a psychological one, he let her go with a promise to check in on the morrow. Which Ildrith happily gave, and took her leave. She felt a tad guilty for abandoning her friend so suddenly, but she had the sudden inescapable need to be back in her rooms. An insane notion that someone would be waiting there for her.
When she burst through her doors though, the only thing that awaited her was a cold draught from the open windows, and a dark bedroom. She sighed and set about closing the curtains and lighting candles.
Someone had been kind enough to light the modest fireplace for her, she stumbled over to her bed and dragged the soft blanket and a pillow from its inviting embrace. She just knew the bed would be too soft for her tonight, and she found herself craving the warmth of the fire rather than the coolness of the sheets. She lay for a long time before the fire, her mind running itself in endless circles.
Ildrith couldn't help but wonder if the appearance of the Beornings had something to do with the secret her brothers were keeping from her. Seeing Igdan again had been an unexpected delight, she couldn't believe how much he had grown, not just in maturity either. She had always been smaller than her kin, at only five foot six, she was short in the company of most creatures if she was honest. Igdan was never that much taller than her, and even though he was five years her senior they had always got on very well. He had been her best friend, and when he left to join the Guard in the Mountains, she had been devastated. She honestly never thought she would see him again, but here he was. No longer the gangly nineteen year old who tugged on her braids and filled her boots with mud. The feast was going to be a lot more fun with him around.
As soon as the thought crossed her mind however, she cringed. Legolas. That delectable complication that kept popping up whenever her eyes drifted happily towards sleep. Her stomach twisted itself into white hot knots when she thought of their sunlit afternoon together. She felt giddy like a proper love-struck teenager, but couldn't quite sink in to the warm and fuzzy feelings when she knew that their tryst was all but forbidden. Among both their people. She wanted nothing more than to run to his room right now and sit with him by his fire, they could share a blanket, and she could tell him about Igdan.
Igdan. How she longed in that moment to find her old friend. She could tell him about Legolas, and he would chase her fears away with a joke and a smile. She slapped her pillow, and sighed. If she had any idea where he was staying, that's exactly what she would do.
She tossed three small logs onto the fire and settled down to doze off watching the flickering flames. Eventually her thoughts would tire themselves out, and then resurface in the twisted shape of her colourful dreams.

She woke early the next morning, her lungs regrettably full of smoke. A brief bathroom break and freezing bath fixed any misgivings she might have had about the day. When she opened the wardrobe, she found her fingers lingering on the pretty dresses rather than shying away. She debated with herself for a long time, her own clothes (the one remaining set), lay crumpled and filthy in the corner of the bedroom. She gave in with a sigh and pulled one of the simple cream coloured cotton dresses over her head. Accompanying it on the rail was a simple brown belt, and Ildrith donned this gratefully, letting it hang from her hips at such an angle that her smallest medicine pouch could be tied neatly alongside her little dagger.
These simple additions boosted her confidence, and she made her way boldly to the door, determined to visit Echanar before starting the rest of her day. She had given it much thought, and decided she was strong enough to venture into society as a functional individual. If she could survive the previous day, she could survive anything.
The sun had barely risen when she arrived at the Halls of healing, she helped herself to the fire in the tea room, setting a small pot of water to boil while she made a mug of tea for herself. When the tea was steeped, boiled and drunk at a leisurely pace, Ildrith heard Echanar moving about in the wards. She poked her head out and called to him softly.
"Ah, Ildrith, I thought it might be you."
She smiled, "Would you like a cup?"
He shook his head and made his way over to her, "Not for now, come and sit, let me examine you." She followed his lead and sat in one of two wooden chairs that faced each other in his office next door to the tea room. It was sparsely decorated, and Ildrith soon lost interest in her surroundings. "Did you sleep well?" He asked softly.
She nodded, keeping quiet and still as he went through the motions of checking her vitals, blood pressure and iron density. The blood sank to just over halfway in the blue mixture this time, and Echanar smiled.
"You are improving. Still, I wanted to give you this," he passed her a small stoppered vial, "it contains the blood building mixture from before. This has three doses in it, and I want you to take one dose every second day, starting right now at breakfast."
Ildrith grimaced, "I was rather hoping we were finished with this."
Echanar smiled in sympathy, and rubbed his hands together. "Right, other than that, I think we are done."
Ildrith popped the vile into her little pouch and stood. "Thank you Echanar, truly, for everything. I know now that I would have died without your intervention and skill."
Echanar reached out and clasped her hands in his. "You were a most rewarding patient Ildrith. Not all would have been so lucky in your condition." Ildrith bobbed her head and squeezed his hands. He led her to the door, "How are you finding your new rooms?"
"Pfft, they are far too grand for me! That being said, it is nice to have a place to call my own while we are here."
"I take it your brothers are remaining enigmatic on the subject of the feast?"
Ildrith rolled her eyes, "Not you too! What is it that everyone must remain so taciturn about?"
"I must say I do not agree with the whole surprise aspect, but I will hold my tongue as asked. I can tell you this, it is nothing to make a spectacle of yourself. So wipe that haunted scowl from your face, and look forward to the day."
Ildrith frowned, but heeded his warning. "Very well, I will. When exactly is everything happening by the way? I am a bit turned around."
"Tomorrow evening will mark the official start of the festivities, and yes, I deem you sound enough of mind to govern your own body. You may choose when to stay away and when to go. I am sure you will have plenty of… assistance dealing with the finer aspects of the magic involved."
"What does that mean?" She asked, exasperated once more.
Echanar smirked, but held his tongue on the matter, choosing instead a new topic as they walked. "Did you see any of your kin after their arrival?"
Ildrith nodded and smiled, "Yes! My brothers didn't tell me they had come, nor that they were coming at all. It was a wonderful surprise to bump into them at dinner last night."
"I am pleased to hear it." Said Echanar softly.
Ildrith stared ahead, startled to realise that Echanar had walked her right past all familiarity and deposited her by the foot of a large stone stairway that lead up into a stream of sunlight.
"I think you will find what you are looking for up those stairs. Do not forget about your medicine!" He said in parting, and the pretty elf turned on his heel and swiftly disappeared from view.

…

Igdan is pronounced Ich-dan, with the 'ch' pronounced as in the German word 'ich' ("I")
Ped - Speak
Nae hathand¬ - Alas, it (is) true