A/N: I'm sorry about the delay, guys. I had a lot of trouble with this chapter, and I'm still not entirely sure I'm happy with it, but I figure I've made you wait long enough :) There is some Quenya in this chapter, translations are in a note at the bottom. Enjoy!

Chapter 10

The party was led through the forest and very soon the trees fell away, revealing a city of tents surrounding the rocky foothills leading up to the now-broken gates of Moria. No one seemed to take any notice of the new arrivals as they dismounted and their horses were led away almost absently. The twins wove their way expertly through the morning bustle and entered a large meeting tent without any ceremony whatsoever, Legolas and Gimli following in their wake.

Both Mel and Boromir hesitated. It was only for a moment, but they exchanged a glance and Mel knew that he was thinking the same thing she was. If anyone was going to recognize him, it would be here. Mel reached out and took his hand, squeezing gently and he returned the gesture. Together they took a steadying breath, and ducked inside.

The tent was dim, filled mostly with a large table that looked as if it were being cleared of a morning meal, a few elves scurrying about removing bowls of fruit and goblets. Elladan and Elrohir were standing with their father, whose head was bent over a parchment in his hand. He flicked a quill quickly over the bottom of the paper and handed it over to another elf before he looked up.

Lord Elrond seemed… tired. Far more tired than Mel could ever remember seeing him. And old, almost ancient, though his face had not physically changed. His eyes lacked something, some spark that Mel hadn't even noticed was there before, but now that it was gone she could sense its absence keenly and it made her heart ache.

"So, Legolas Thranduilion, you return to us much sooner than expected," he said, his voice still powerful and commanding, despite that sense of weariness, "You are well met indeed, as are you, Gimli son of Gloin. As for your other companions…"

He trailed off, his eyes sliding over Mel with almost no pause, and lingering almost a fraction of a moment too long on Boromir. But then he moved on, with no hint of anything amiss, and Mel let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

"…they are unknown to me. Perhaps you would care to perform introductions."

Legolas bowed.

"Lord Elrond, I present Esgalion of Ithilien and his wife, Lindel. We came upon each other by happenstance, and Gimli and I have since taken up their… quest, of sorts, a sacred mission that has been entrusted to them. But the goblins of the Misty Mountains have set upon us, causing us to seek refuge with your company and ask admittance to your house, where knowledge of many things thought lost can be found."

"You seek something which has been lost?" Lord Elrond asked with a hint of intrigue, turning his eyes back to Boromir, "May I inquire what that might be?"

Boromir stood tall and straight under the elf-lord's gaze, but it was Mel that answered, the truth bubbling up almost without permission.

"We seek the entwives."

Elrond's gaze snapped to her, and some flicker of that spark seemed to reignite.

"The entwives have not been seen in many an age," he said, speaking slowly, deliberately, "There are many who believe they are gone forever."

"The one who sent me believes otherwise," Mel said, "I've been sent to bring them home, back to the light they have hidden from far too long."

"And who would deign to burden you with such a task?"

"My mother, Yavanna," Mel answered, "For I am called Calenhiril, and I bear her ring."

She lifted her hand and the emerald on her finger glittered, even though there wasn't enough light in the tent for it to have been possible. Elrond tilted his head curiously, but he didn't immediately discount her claim. Mel figured that had to be something.

"These are strange tidings," he murmured, before turning unexpectedly to Legolas, "You put your trust in her?"

Legolas visibly balked at the question and Mel felt her heart sink. He still didn't trust her. He had pledged her his service, but she had still not earned his trust. And the worst part was she couldn't even be angry about it. After all, every breath she took in his presence was a lie.

"I have seen proof of the power she wields," Legolas hedged, his voice surprisingly level considering his hesitancy, "She speaks to the Ents in their own language and they call her sister."

"As well they should."

Mel whirled and came face-to-face with Gandalf the White, framed by the sun in the tent entrance. He regarded her for several long moments, his sharp blue eyes searching hers, though for what Mel couldn't guess. She resisted the urge to swallow nervously.

"Mithrandir, what do you know of this matter?" Lord Elrond asked, in what Mel could only describe as fond exasperation.

"I know that the Calenhiril lives and while she yet lives, so does hope for our friend Treebeard and all his kind."

Gandalf's eyes finally released Mel and flicked over her shoulder.

"We would do well to help her and her-" His eyes passed over Boromir, but didn't hesitate before returning to Lord Elrond, "-companions on their way. I imagine the journey to Rivendell was not taken lightly."

"I admit I've felt a strong draw to the place," Mel said, turning back to Lord Elrond, "The Last Homely House has long been known as a place of learning and wisdom. I had hoped I might find answers there."

Lord Elrond inclined his head politely.

"I do not know what answers you may find, but my house is open to all who seek to help those of Middle Earth. You would be most welcome for as long as you like."

"Not long, I think," Mel said, glancing at Boromir, whose rigid stance and clenched jaw was beginning to make her own body ache in sympathy, "Winter will be setting in and I would like to make as much progress as possible before the trees fall into sleep."

Elrond nodded and waved his hand absently.

"Of course, whatever you need. We will be leaving in a few hours, you may travel with us."

He seemed distracted again, ill at ease, and so the four companions bowed and took their leave of him. Legolas and Gimli split off immediately, probably to search for the hobbits or other companions. Gandalf followed Boromir and Mel from the tent.

"I wonder if I might speak to you," the wizard said, giving them a side-eyed glance, "Both of you."

Mel and Boromir exchanged an uneasy look.

"Of course," Mel said cautiously, "What can we do for you, sir?"

"I do not think it is a question of what you can do for me," Gandalf said, "But rather, what can I do for you, Melody Calenhiril."

Mel opened her mouth to respond… and then froze, the breath trapped in her lungs. Melody… He'd… He'd said…

The wizard's eyes were sparkling and Mel started to shake.

"…Gandalf?" she whispered, too afraid to believe, too scared to hope…

"My dear girl," the wizard said, opening his arms to her, his smile spreading from his eyes to the rest of his face, "How good it is to see you at last."

And then Mel was wrapped in the wizard's embrace, her face burrowed in his chest to prevent a sob from breaking loose. He knew her. He really knew her, and she hadn't understood just how much it would mean, to be known in a world that didn't remember her, to see a familiar face that found her own face familiar too. She managed to take a few steadying breaths and blink away her tears before she pulled back to search the wizard's face again. But he wasn't looking at her now. His eyes had strayed to Boromir, standing stiffly to one side, looking strangely helpless.

"Boromir of the White City," Gandalf said, his voice low, but powerful, "You have been most favored, Son of Gondor. I am pleased that you have found your place at last."

The wizard's words hit Boromir and whatever barrier he had placed around himself collapsed, his expression deflating into muted shock and relief.

"You do know us," he whispered hoarsely, "How is this possible? We thought…"

"You did not think I was sent back to this world blind, did you?" Gandalf said, eyes twinkling mischievously, "My brief respite after the fall of the Balrog gave me knowledge beyond any comprehension, even mine. I did not know you until I saw you, but now I want to know everything. Mel, I remember your fall on the battlefield and I thought my heart might be torn in two, but that is the last memory I hold of the world that was. What happened? How have you returned to us?"

"That's…"

Mel trailed off, suddenly hyper-aware of the elves flitting to and fro around them, busy with preparations, but certainly not deaf. She wasn't sure it was wise to dive into the details here, especially not when someone they once knew could walk up on them at any moment.

"That is a long story," Boromir finished for her, stepping up beside her, their arms brushing, "One perhaps best saved for the walls of Rivendell."

"Ah," Gandalf said, his brow furrowing as he glanced about them surreptitiously, "Am I to assume then, that no one else has been blessed with the same enlightenment I have? Not even the companions you travel with?"

"You assume correctly," Boromir said, "It has been…"

He glanced at Mel, and then quickly away.

"…a difficult journey. But our task has made it necessary."

Gandalf nodded.

"Yes, I noticed your injury, Mel, in Lord Elrond's tent. He would have seen it himself, but he has been… distracted. The last few days have not been kind."

"He's lost his daughter," Mel said, "I get it."

Gandalf's smile bloomed on his face again.

"So your… foresight continues as well. For how long, do you think?"

"Not long," Mel admitted, "After the fall of Sauron things get a little hazy. The story is almost finished, and after that it's all scattered, moments without dates or concrete details. Soon I won't be of much help to anyone anymore."

"Then you will be as much a part of this world as we are."

Mel swallowed. She hadn't thought about it like that, but she guessed it was true. Soon, there would be little left of her old life that could help her. She really would be a part of this world, for good.

"It is a strange thing indeed, the knowledge of what once was and what now is," Gandalf said, kindness softening his eyes, "I think now I understand a little of what you went through at the beginning, Melody Calenhiril, and I do not envy you. But you have been favored by the Valar, that much is clear."

"Sometimes I think we could have done without their favor," Boromir mumbled bitterly.

Gandalf frowned at him.

"Do not be so quick to assume that your life would have been better had they not intervened, Son of Gondor," the wizard said, "Remember what they have given you."

Boromir hung his head, but his jaw still flexed stubbornly.

"I do," he said, "Every day. And I remember what has been taken as well. What they might still take from us. It is not an easy task we have been set, and the road has already been fraught with peril."

"But not impossible," Gandalf said, "Or you would not be here."

Then the wizard's smile brightened, and he waved his hand in the air, as if to dispel any lingering tension.

"But there will be time to debate such matters later, when we are not tired and hungry. Come, I expect there is a little of breakfast left, if you know where to look."

He winked and strode off, leaving Mel and Boromir little choice but to exchange bemused expressions and follow after him.

They ate what breakfast they could find in the madness of packing up such a large camp, filling Gandalf in on the details of their quest, as much as they could anyway. It was strange to hear him call them by their aliases, Esgalion and Lindel. Mel understood the need for it though, and she found that just knowing that he knew it was a ruse made it a bit more bearable.

As they were leaving the tent that had served as their dining hall, Mel felt… something, a strange presence sifting through her mind, something she had not felt in what felt like a lifetime. She turned…

Lady Galadriel was staring at her, her blue eyes piercing straight through Mel's mind, even from several tent lengths away. Mel froze in her tracks. Boromir and Gandalf were still walking, unaware that she had stopped, speaking in low voices that seemed muted and far away. Lady Galadriel's head tilted slightly to the side, her expression impassive. Lord Celeborn stood at her side, but he was deep in conversation with another elf, and neither took any notice when the queen slipped away, her strides long and sure, her eyes still pinning Mel to the spot. Mel swallowed. What should she do? She could not even bring herself to glance away, to see if Boromir or Gandalf had noticed yet that something was wrong. She could only watch and wait as the Lady of Lothlorien approached her, her expression frighteningly unreadable. She was so close that Mel could see the lines on her face, lines that had not been there the first time they'd met.

Those blue eyes pierced for another long moment.

"Your name, child?"

Lady Galadriel's voice was like soft music in Mel's ear and her breath caught in her throat. It took her a moment to reply.

"Li… Lindel, my lady."

The elf tilted her head, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Lindel…" she murmured absently, as if testing it on her tongue, "Tell me, child, have we met before? For your name speaks to my heart, but my mind cannot place you."

Mel's hands started trembling and she bunched them into fists.

"No, my lady."

Galadriel's eyes narrowed.

"Why do you lie?"

Mel's heart jumped to her throat and she had to swallow hard.

"I'm sorry, it's… it's complicated. I didn't mean any harm, my lady, I just…"

"You met her in another life, my lady," Gandalf said gently, gripping Mel's shoulder with a comforting steadiness, "She meant no deception, and indeed she spoke none. In this life, the two of you have never met."

Lady Galadriel's eyes did not leave Mel, but she nodded in acknowledgment of the wizard's words.

"Even with the power of our enemies vanquished our times are still strange and full of mystery," she said finally, "Forgive me, child. I feel in my heart there was a time we were of help to one another."

"You were a help to me, Lady Galadriel," Mel agreed, "Though I'm not sure I can say the same for myself. When I was lost, you helped me find my way."

The lady's eyes flicked over Mel's shoulder and the set of her face changed infinitesimally, hardened and sharpened.

"You," she said, her voice not quite as gentle as before, "I know you as well, though I sense that you are much changed from what you were before."

Mel flinched and reached behind her instinctively, fumbling until she found Boromir's hand and gripped it tightly. She could feel tension trembling through him.

"We saved each other," Mel said, "We are neither of us the same."

Lady Galadriel's eyes found their linked hands and then flicked back to Mel, searching. Finally, after what felt like an hour, but was only a moment, a smile spread across the queen's lips, growing until it reached her eyes and gleamed there.

"That is as it should be though I am prevented from seeing the whole truth of it," she said, "Something hides you from me, and hides you well, but still I rejoice in the hope you have found."

"Melda tárinya?"

The elf-queen turned toward Lord Celeborn's voice. He was eying the group of them curiously and Lady Galadriel reached out to clasp her husband's hand.

"All is well, veruya," she assured him, "I was only becoming acquainted with old friends."

The Lord of Lothlorien quirked an eyebrow at his wife's curious choice of words, favoring her with a small, endearing smile. Mel got the impression he was used to being slightly in the dark when it came to these things. He inclined his head to the rest of them politely.

"Please forgive the interruption," he said, "But we are needed."

"Of course," Gandalf said, answering for all of them.

The lord and lady bowed and left them, Galadriel throwing one last smile over her shoulder before they glided out of sight.

"The Lady of the Golden Wood is very perceptive," Gandalf muttered, almost to himself, "I am surprised that she gleaned so little."

"I think she might have gotten more than she let on," Mel said, "Like you said, she's very perceptive."

Gandalf nodded.

"True enough."

"We should take our leave," Boromir said, speaking for the first time, "I would like to check our horses and supplies before we break camp."

"I have many things to see to myself," Gandalf said, shaking from his reverie, "Carry on, carry on, we shall meet again."

And then he too disappeared, lost in the throng of people hurrying past, hauling the last of the tents and supplies. Boromir tugged Mel in the opposite direction, his expression calm, but otherwise unreadable. Somehow that still managed to make Mel uneasy. They entered the makeshift pen serving as the impromptu stable and took charge of their horses.

Mel tied her mare to a nearby post and started going over her tack, along with what remained of her supplies, but she didn't get very far. The moment Boromir had secured his gelding, he took Mel's arm and pulled her in, as if grasping for something to tether him to the earth. He was shaking. Not trembling, but really shaking, as if he might come apart at the seams any moment, and that scared her more than anything that had happened to them so far. She didn't speak, just held on to him for what felt like a long time, listening to his heart pounding in his chest and waiting for the erratic stuttering of his breaths even out. When the last of the tremors finally ceased, he stepped back so he could look into her eyes, still gripping her arms as if to anchor himself, just in case.

"Forgive me," he said, "Please, I… I don't…"

"It's okay," Mel said, cupping his elbows in what she hoped was a supportive gesture, "I know. It's okay."

Boromir closed his eyes and his head dropped to rest against hers. A long sigh escaped him as his grip on her arms relaxed, less of an anchor than a comfort now.

"I did not realize what a burden it was," he said, "Until the burden was lifted. To be seen, and then reminded there are those that should not see..."

"I know," Mel said again, "It's gonna be hard, but we'll get through this. We've been through so much, I know we can get through this. And we have help now. It's going to be okay."

"I know," he said, "Only I… I watched you and it was… so easy for you, to slip back into what once was, and it was… humbling. You have done this before, lived with your mind in two different worlds, and I thought I knew that, thought I understood it, but... Melody, I never truly realized until today what you must have gone through, all this time, even before. My love, can you ever forgive me for such blatant ignorance?"

"Forgive you?" Mel asked, "Are you kidding me? Boromir, I am nothing but grateful for what I've been through, every moment of it, because it led me to you. And now I can help you and we can get through this together. So no, I won't forgive you, because there is nothing to forgive."

Boromir stared at her for a long moment. And then he kissed her, closing the distance between them so quickly that Mel barely had time to realize it was happening. It was short, but more than enough to take Mel's breath away and make her wonder if she was keeping herself upright or if Boromir was holding her up.

"I do not deserve you," he whispered, "In no life, past or present, have I done anything remotely worthy of you."

Mel grinned.

"Yeah, but you're still stuck with me," she said, "Better get used to it."

"Never," he said, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

He pressed another kiss to her lips before they broke apart, each turning to their own horse, but Mel still felt like she was floating, her mind somewhere in the middle distance instead of firmly behind her eyes. She ended up checking her tack three times before she was certain she had gotten everything, and Boromir was waiting on her, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Are you distracted, my love?" he asked innocently.

Mel managed a fairly decent glare despite the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Shut up."

He barked a laugh and Mel's glare broke down into a frustrated grin and rolled eyes.

As they led their horses from the pen, they passed Legolas and Gimli on their way inside.

"So anxious to be on our way, lad?" Gimli asked jovially.

"I admit, Master Dwarf, I will be much more at ease with the shadow of these mountains at our backs," Boromir answered.

Gimli nodded, his expression turned moderately graver.

"Aye, that I can understand," he said, his eyes flicking momentarily behind them, where Mel knew the broken remains of the Moria gates stood, "Still, our coming to this place was not all bad. For I was able to look upon the face of the most beautiful creature I ever beheld, one last time."

Mel turned to follow his shining gaze and smiled. Lord Elrond stood with Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel against the backdrop of Moria, their hands clasped together. Though far in the distance, the elven rulers of Lothlorien appeared almost ethereal, tall and pale, their long blonde hair and flowing robes of white and gray catching the morning light so that they seemed to glow.

"And so Lord Elrond takes his leave of the Lord and Lady of the Goldenwood," Gandalf said, leaning on his staff and gazing at the group on the rocks with sad eyes, "It's a shame, really. Loneliness is like a disease on elvendom, one that they so often bring upon themselves."

Mel almost didn't catch the look that Gandalf threw at Legolas, a pointed glance that even Legolas himself did not see. But… Legolas wasn't lonely. He had Gimli. It wasn't until Gandalf caught her own eye that Mel understood. It was her. The wizard remembered, remembered the friendship she and Legolas had once shared. And even though her heart didn't want to believe it, had been denying it ever since he had saved her on the plains of Rohan, deep down Mel knew they would never share that bond again. She wondered if that was why they had been thrown together in the first place, so she would know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she had lost her friend, her orenyanil for good.

The elves on the rocks parted company, and Mel and Boromir mounted with the rest of the company headed west, away from the mountains, bound for the Last Homely House. But before they left, Mel couldn't resist one final glance back. Even from this distance, she could see a shining figure atop a white horse, paused on the last rocky outcropping. Mel could almost sense that the Lady Galadriel's eyes were upon her, and something soft and warm brushed against her mind.

"The peace of the stars and the strength of the elves be with you, Lindel i taurëo…"

Mel smiled.

"And with you, Lady of the Golden Wood…"

She felt another brush of warmth against her thoughts, and then it was gone. The figure in white disappeared over the rock formation, and Mel turned to catch up to her companions.

Elvish Translations

(all translations are Sindarin unless otherwise noted)

Melda tárinya (q): My beloved queen

Veruya (q): husband (an endearment)

Orenyanil (q): a word of my own creation meaning a platonic soul mate, literally "my heart (inner mind) friend"

Lindel i taurëo (q): Song of the Forest