I returned to my flet that evening, where Cellinneth had drawn a bath for me. I adamantly ignored her lecture about propriety and whatnot as she helped me undress, which was alarmingly difficult to do. After the still-lecturing nurse removed my bandages, I stepped into the hot water and sank into the heat, wincing. Still, it was a good kind of pain. Then I leisurely began washing off the Moria grime, accepting Cellinneth's continued assistance.

When I was clean, Cellinneth rebandaged everything and helped me into bed. I fell asleep almost immediately.

The elleth was walking toward a boat in the water, then paused and glanced behind her. A dark-haired Dwarf watched her go with sad eyes, which lit up at her hesitation. She glanced at a blonde ellon, waiting for her in the boat. Then she shook her head at him. She would stay. She would help the people of Laketown rebuild their homes in Dale.

The Dwarf smiled shyly as the elleth approached him. Then he handed her a small hatchet. Picking up a larger axe, he motioned for her to follow him into the evergreen woods. As they walked, he hesitantly reached up and took her hand.

Meanwhile, at the lake's edge, the blonde ellon sat alone in the boat, his oceanic blue eyes hardening to an icy gaze.

The scene shifted. The same elleth sat in a small room, her hair straight and lank, her face gaunt. In her lap sat a baby—a happy baby. But the elleth did not share the child's joy. The elleth stood and handed the baby to a Dwarf woman, then left, never to return.

The child began to cry.

Again, the scene changed. A short, brown-haired girl was walking down a road, holding hands with a blonde ellon with loving blue eyes. At her other side walked a red-bearded Dwarf. The ellon said something, and all three burst out laughing, each genuinely happy to be with the other two.

Then time froze.

The trio of friends began walking backward, their gestures and moving lips working in reverse. The elleth walked backward into the small room and took back her child, sat and replaced the baby in her lap. The elleth and Dwarf's hands parted, and the pair walked backward to the lake. Exchanged a few words in reverse, then the elleth backed up to the initial halfway point between the ellon and the Dwarf.

The reversed vision halted, then played forward again.

The elleth gazed sadly at the Dwarf, but turned away. Got in the boat with the ellon and didn't look back. Never got pregnant. Never gave birth to the child.

The scene returned to that of the blonde-haired ellon and red-bearded Dwarf. But the brown-haired woman was nowhere to be seen. And the two males were arguing bitterly, agreeing only not to speak at all.

A new scene came next. A battlefield, slick with blood and dotted with bodies. The red-bearded Dwarf lay on his back, an Elvish arrow protruding from his chest. Blood matted his beard around his mouth, and his eyes were locked open in an eternal stare. Nearby lay an ellon, his blonde hair fanning out, stained with blood. His head lolled to the side, his throat sliced open and already bled out. His stunning blue eyes were open, and when a fly landed on one, he didn't blink.

Legolas...

I awoke with a sharp cry, tears streaming down my face. It was a dream. It was just a dream.

I sat up in bed and focused on evening my erratic breathing, and stemming the flow of tears. This wasn't a logical reaction, after all, I'd had nightmares before.

But never one that vivid.

It wasn't long before Cellinneth came in, carrying a new dress. "Good morning," she chirped. "Lady Galadriel has invited all the Fellowship to dine with her, and we mustn't keep her waiting!"

My blood ran cold. Lady Galadriel? Me eat with Lady Galadriel? Tremors ran through my body and my breath hitched. This wasn't happening. Mordor, this couldn't be happening!

"My lady?" Cellinneth called, concern written in her expression.

Get it together, Eda. Now. If Galadriel knew, she wouldn't invite you to breakfast. You're just another member of the Fellowship. Deep breath. Galadriel doesn't know.

"Yes," I responded, my voice a little shaky. "I'm all right. Just nervous."

"Well, that's understandable," Cellinneth replied, most of her concern disappeared. "But don't worry, the Lady is a very kind and noble elleth. She hears the very thoughts of our minds, and none can be hidden from her."

The blood drained from my face, and I swayed. Eru dammit, this was bad. Very, very bad.

"My lady," Cellinneth exclaimed, rushing over to me.

"I don't feel good," I moaned. And I wasn't lying. Mordor, it was the bloody truth.

"Let's get you dressed," Cellinneth said gently. "What you need now is a proper meal to strengthen you. Come along, now."

I nodded weakly and did as I was told. Cellinneth expertly dressed me and fixed my hair into a fancy Elvish updo I had no hopes of learning for myself. Finally, she took my elbow and led me outside.

I wasn't expecting Legolas to be waiting for us on the other side of the door. And, embarrassing as it was, I gave a short scream at his sudden appearance.

Cellinneth rubbed my arm, shooting a disapproving look Legolas's way. "My lord, you should be down at breakfast."

Legolas rolled his eyes and hobbled closer, leaning on a walking stick. "Eda, what's wrong?"

I shook my head vaguely. "I'm just not...I don't..."

Legolas turned to Cellinneth. "Thank you. I'll walk with her from here."

Cellinneth hesitated, then scurried away. Legolas's hand cupped my elbow, and we began to slowly descend the stairs winding around the mallorn tree trunk.

"Is it true that Galadriel can hear our thoughts?" I burst out at length.

A smirk tugged at Legolas's lips. "Yes. Though, I have never met the Lady in person before." He glanced at me. "Does this trouble you?"

"Yes," I admitted in a whisper.

Legolas turned to look at me again, the amusement long disappeared from his expression and replaced by concern. "Why do you fear?"

I dropped my gaze to my feet, watching the stairs slowly pass beneath me. "Legolas—" Eru, but his name was beautiful. Too beautiful to pass over my tongue. "My history is...shameful. Too dark for me to willingly reveal to her."

"Eda." His voice was reproving. "The Lady will not condemn you for your parents' actions."

"I know." I shook my head. "It isn't that. I—" I hesitated. Did I really want to tell Legolas how I'd spent the last thirty years?

Legolas's thumb stroked my arm just over my elbow. "You can tell me," he said gently.

I still avoided his gaze. "But if I do, she'll be twice as likely to hear about what I've done."

He gave a quiet chuckle. "I'm quite sure she's already heard your thoughts, Eda. It's said she can hear the thoughts of all within Lothlòrien—as well as a handful of other people all across Arda."

My steps faltered. Illùvatar, I was walking to my own execution!

Legolas's hand tightened on my arm, holding me upright and keeping me moving. "Please, Eda," he said quietly. "I would like to know."

I nodded mutely, but it was a few steps before I could force the words out. "After I fled Erebor, I spent the first few years begging and stealing. I noticed I had a knack for slipping things into my pockets without people noticing, so I started stealing for hire."

I glanced at Legolas to monitor his reaction. His brow was slightly furrowed, but in concern—not anger. So I continued.

"Then someone offered me a lot of money for an assassination." I swallowed hard and dodged Legolas's sudden glance. "I was paid half in advance, and told I'd be given the second half when the job was done."

"Who was it you were to assassinate?" Legolas asked quietly.

"Lady Galadriel," I whispered, swallowing hard. "So I came here. Everything was going according to plan...Celeborn was gone on business or something, Galadriel was asleep, and I climbed in through her window. But when it came right down to it...I couldn't kill her."

Legolas gave a relieved sigh. His hand moved to the nape of my neck and gently stroked the exposed skin. I felt my muscles relaxing, almost against my will, but I gave a soft exhale of my own. He didn't hate me. I closed my eyes, inexplicably grateful.

"What happened then?" he asked gently.

I opened my eyes again. "I fled," I responded. "Moved on to the next job stealing. I took another assassination job soon enough, and lots more after that, but..." I shrugged bashfully. "I never could bring myself to complete them."

By now, we'd reached the base of the mallorn tree, and we went onto the worn path winding between the other mallorn trees.

"I believe it's safe to say Lady Galadriel will not criticize you for the actions of your youth," he said.

"If you say so," I murmured, unconvinced.

Legolas gently patted my uninjured shoulder and gave a light chuckle. "Do not sound so resigned. You will be with me—and the rest of the Fellowship. We will protect you," he said, his tone teasing.

I grinned; this side of Legolas was both pleasant and encouraging. I would try to enjoy it, while I was still around. And, for everyone's sake, I hoped he wouldn't revert back when Galadriel had me executed.

The path led to a mallorn tree even larger and glowing brighter than any of the others. The staircase around its trunk was broad and elaborate, and Legolas moved to climb it.

"Wait," I said, hesitating. "Are you sure this is the way?"

He glanced back at me, a wry grin lifting his features. "Yes. Come on." So I followed him.

Climbing was quite a bit more exerting than descending, and both of us struggled. Yet, finally, we reached a large, open flet encompassing the tree's width and extending outward. It was here that a long table made of white wood had been set up. The Fellowship was gathered around, some sitting, some standing. At the head, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn stood side-by-side.

"Eda!" Pippin exclaimed, jumping up and started running over to me. I flinched, but grinned at the overjoyed look on his face.

Legolas reached out and caught the Hobbit before he could wrap me in a potentially very painful hug. "Careful," the ellon murmured. "She's injured."

Pippin's cheeks turned pink, and he said bashfully, "I'm sorry."

"Hush," I said to them both, moving forward to hug my friend. He gingerly wrapped his arms around me in return, but didn't squeeze. "I'm fine," I whispered to Pippin.

When we pulled apart, he looked up at me with big, moist eyes. "I thought you were dead," he said quietly.

"Nope," I replied, grinning. "You won't get rid of me that easy."

He grinned again and grabbed my hand. Tugging me to the table, he said, "You must try their sausages and tomatoes. Cooked just long enough!" He pulled me to two empty chairs between Merry and Boromir and promptly plopped down beside his friend.

Boromir stood and pulled out my chair for me. "I am glad you are well," he murmured, meeting my gaze for a split-second. His expression was not joyful, though. His brows were furrowed, and for the moment that he looked me in the eye, I saw deep angst in his soul.

"And I you," I replied in the same tone, seating myself. As Pippin loaded my plate, I longingly watched Legolas sit beside Aragorn on the other side of the table. Legolas met my gaze, understanding in his eyes. But he wasn't worried.

I took a deep breath, desperately hoping that I was wrong in my judgment of Lady Galadriel.

The Lord and Lady of Lothlòrien seated themselves once the rest of us were situated. Lord Celeborn began talking with Aragorn about battle strategies and the best armory and whatnot, but Lady Galadriel—what she did scared me.

She did nothing.

She sat primly at her plate, not even serving herself a bite, and stared at Frodo. Frodo, in turn, took small bites, glancing at her for brief moments before looking away once more. Then, he gave a weary smile at his plate. Simultaneously, Galadriel masked a smile of her own. And her gaze turned to Samwise. Samwise blushed bright red, and he stared dutifully at his plate.

And that's when it clicked. She was talking to them—in their minds. Panicked, I caught Legolas's eye, and he nodded subtly.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Why was this so scary for me? I'd faced death on more than one occasion, and while I'd been a little shaky afterwards, I'd never gotten this rattled.

But, back then, I'd always been alone. I'd denied the throne of Erebor and chosen the life of a mercenary. I'd had nothing to lose but a life I despised. Now, I had the Fellowship. Nine—no, eight, I corrected myself with a wince—other people that truly cared about me. Eight people that would be directly affected by whatever befell me today.

A moment later, Lord Celeborn's conversation with Aragorn petered out, and Lady Galadriel turned her stare onto my friend of old. He met her gaze bravely, but lines of concern etched into his expression.

Their silent conversation lasted a bit longer than the ones before, and beside me, Boromir began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Doubtless waiting his turn to be cross-examined, as I was. I reached across myself with my left hand to touch his arm comfortingly. He startled at our contact, then glanced at my hand. I motioned that he could hold it, and to my surprise, he accepted.

Holding Boromir's hand was not like holding Legolas's. Boromir gripped my hand as though it were a lifeline, the power in his hold testing the strength of even my bones. But despite the pain, I wouldn't deny him the gesture if it brought him comfort.

I felt Legolas's eyes drilling into the side of my head, so I met his gaze. His expression was disapproving, but the intensity in his expression didn't demand I pull away. Still...it was odd. Why would it bother him for me to give comfort to Boromir?

That trail of thought ended when Boromir's body went rigid. Slowly, he looked up at Lady Galadriel, then he began to tremble.

That scared me. If a full-grown Man and a trained warrior was shaking like a leaf from mere words within his mind, I wanted nothing to do with whatever this Lady had to say to me.

"You comfort him."

I jumped at the sudden sound of Galadriel's voice. But, judging by the stoic expressions from everyone else, only I could hear her. Except Legolas. He'd noticed my reaction, and was watching me with a concerned expression.

"Of course I comfort Boromir," I snapped internally. "He's frightened."

"He has seen the true depths of his own heart," Galadriel replied. "He is right to be afraid."

There was an awkward silence in our "conversation". In fact, awkward silence had settled over the entire table. And I found it remarkably difficult to not think about the things I didn't want Galadriel to know about. To occupy my mind, I studied the one thing I found remotely interesting.

Legolas.

His hair had apparently been washed since last night, and was now combed out and hanging down midway between his shoulders and elbows. The silver tunic he wore drew attention to the gold in his hair, and electric blue of his eyes. His dark eyebrows quirked up in amused curiosity at my open stare, but I didn't look away. I didn't dare.

A tinkling laugh sounded out, at least in my mind. "You guard your mind dutifully, Amariel, but a detailed account of the prince's legendary attractiveness will not prevent me from searching your mind."

Mordor. I let my gaze drop back to my plate, and I studied a slice of tomato, just for something to do with my eyes.

"You think I am angry." Her voice—or mental voice—was mildly amused. "It will undoubtedly come as a shock to you that I am not."

I snapped my gaze up to meet hers. "You aren't?"

Lady Galadriel gave me a serene smile. "No. I was aware of your presence the moment you entered my realm—this time and the last. Aware, and quite fascinated."

My eyes widened. "If you knew...why didn't you stop me?"

"I was curious at your dedication to your mission—and your determination to escape the past."

I looked away. "You mean Erebor."

"Indeed." A pause, then, "Look at me." I obeyed—I could hardly do otherwise. Then Galadriel said, "I was awake that night you came to my bedchamber. I was even the one to send my husband away—I feared he would overreact when your intents became evident."

I took a deep, steadying breath. "You were waiting for me, knowing what I intended. Yet, you allowed me to enter your room and leave freely. Why?"

Another slight smile became evident on her elegant face. "Rest assured, I was in no way unprepared. But I wanted to know if you would truly attempt to kill me, or if your natural respect for life would prevent you. I was not disappointed."

I gave a tiny sigh of relief.

"However."

That tiny sigh of relief stuck in my throat.

"There is still the matter of your behavior toward my marchwarden and his brother."

I flinched and reluctantly met Lady Galadriel's saddened gaze. "Yeah...about that..." I bit my lip, trying to organize my thoughts. Not that it mattered, since she'd already been through them all. "I'm not proud of that," I answered finally. "There are a lot of things I'm not proud of...but that ranks among the highest."

"Right alongside teasing my grandsons."

I cringed. Sad that I had to ask, but, "And...who are your grandsons?"

"Elladan and Elrohir."

I choked on my spit. Coughed a couple times, then exclaimed, "What!?"

Lady Galadriel was definitely trying not to laugh now. "Yes, Elrond Half-Elven is my son-in-law. But, that is another conversation for another time. And I do hope we may speak again, for there is much to discuss."

I squirmed uncomfortably. I couldn't think of anything I'd rather do less. Except maybe kiss Dwalin. That would be disgusting.

"But, for the time being, I should like to know why you joined the Fellowship of the Ring."

The Ring! I snuck a glance at Frodo, which he noticed, and frowned at. "Well...I joined because I was bored, and I didn't want to stay in Rivendell."

"But you could have quit at any time," Galadriel argued. "You could have sought out adventure further south, or west, or even returned to Erebor. Yet, you chose to brave the hardships the Fellowship has faced. Even when Legolas lost consciousness in the dark of Moria, you carried him out at great risk to yourself. Why?"

I didn't answer immediately. I didn't even know. Why had I?

"Search yourself," Galadriel said gently. "Find the answer. For knowing your own heart is the key to understanding your own actions."

My thoughts shifted to the Foragar—Eru, I didn't even know where it was. But that little compass said nearly the exact same thing on the back. I was about to question Galadriel about it, but her gaze had already shifted to Gimli.

I closed my eyes and let out a soft breath, relaxing in my chair. Boromir's callused thumb scraped over my knuckles, reminding me I still held his hand. I met the Man's gaze, which was still agonized in a way I didn't understand, but it also held concern for me. I gave him a soft nod to tell him I was okay.

Under the table, a foot rested on top of mine, and startled, I looked up at Legolas.

I'm okay, I mouthed at him. He nodded his response, then raised an eyebrow pointedly at my plate.

"Yes, mother," I replied, then realized a moment too late Galadriel was the only one that heard that. I gave an internal huff. This in-the-brain talking just wasn't natural.

"Bah!" Gimli exclaimed suddenly.

The entire Fellowship startled at his unexpected reaction, as well as Lord Celeborn. Lady Galadriel just smiled and kept looking at Gimli.

Legolas gave a disgusted exhale and rolled his eyes, then returned to eating. I covered my mouth, pretending to muffle a hiccup or something, but masking a snicker instead. I was extremely grateful to be only half Dwarf.

After a moment, Legolas looked up at Galadriel, his gaze tranquil. A slight furrow appeared between his eyebrows, and he glanced at me.

They were talking about me.

I bit my lip, staring at my plate. I couldn't help wondering what they were saying, wondering what Legolas was thinking. Was Galadriel telling him about my dealings with Haldir and Rùmil? I seriously doubted Legolas would take that as lightly as he had the rest of what I'd revealed.

"Rest assured, Amariel, I do not share secrets that do not belong to me."

I looked up at Galadriel, startled that she'd decided to weigh in on my dilemma.

She met my gaze. "But if you hope to maintain any lasting friendship with the prince, you must share with him the entirety of your past. The truth he accepts. It is falsehood and deceit that Legolas will not forgive so easily."

Mordor. I was screwed.