Sure enough, they arrived in the very same cavern Gilrael and Legolas had first stumbled upon, that long-ago time. Etrielle led the way to the cave where they had left Gilrael, Tauriel following anxiously, and Legolas faint with worry.

When they burst into it, Legolas melted with relief. There, in the middle of the cave, was Gilrael, sitting in an area dotted with blood, and weeping, but alive.

He rushed forward, Etrielle and Tauriel staying behind at a tactful distance.

As he approached her back, Gilrael shook her head. "It is all over, Legolas." Was he that loud? She could not have seen him.

"Tauriel is gone. Etrielle is gone." She didn't say traitor. "R-Roquen…" but she could not continue.

As Gilrael broke into fresh tears, Legolas knelt beside her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, squeezing her tight to him. All awkwardness he might have felt was gone, replaced by his concern for her, and his relief that she wasn't dead.

He didn't urge her to stop crying, for her grief and suffering was much more than he knew. He didn't tell her everything would be alright, for how could someone know a thing like that? He simply was there for her, there to listen, to provide companionship. And he did not care who was watching, even though Tauriel was grinning.

After a moment, Gilrael glanced at him with teary eyes, and cracked a smile. "Please don't crush me that much. I appreciate your concern, but I think I dislocated my shoulder."

How the world's best swordsman could manage to do that was beyond Legolas, but he pulled away gently. "Does it hurt much?"

Gilrael rolled her eyes. "Believe me, if Sauron had given you his super deluxe torture circuit, this would feel like a walk in a forest."

She winced. "But don't try landing on your arm while fighting with it at the same time."

"Did Roquen injure you?"

Gilrael pursed her lips. "My wounds are of no importance. The other two, however-"

"No need to worry, Gilrael," Legolas promptly told her. He glanced behind, and the elleth turned. Etrielle and Tauriel smiled and waved. Gilrael gasped, then fell back, fainted dead away into Legolas' arms.

Why his heart was pounding when Gilrael was passed out was more than Legolas could guess. Etrielle and Tauriel approached, but neither wanted to step in blood, which had been splattered on Legolas' garments.

He glared at them. "What am I supposed to do?"

Etrielle shrugged, and said, "You're the man around here, so to speak." while Tauriel clasped her hands and sighed, "This is so romantic!"

Legolas glanced down. Gilrael could not have fainted because of surprise. She had stronger nerves than that. So she must have had a graver injury than she had let on.

The prince stood, carrying Gilrael, and set her on the ground in an area with no blood.

"Etrielle, you know healing. Can you see if Gilrael has any serious wounds?"

The elleth came forward, and pinched his cheek. "That's my man. Taking charge."

Legolas fought the urge to roll his eyes, and knelt while Etrielle made an inspection.

"Hmm, looks like her shoulder is dislocated, but I can fix that in a minute." She rolled up her sleeves, laid her hands on the shoulder, and give it a firm twist. Legolas flinched as he heard a pop, and Gilrael gasped.

"Ooh." Groaning, she tried to sit up, but Etrielle wouldn't hear of it.

"Lay down. You are in no condition to walk any more, and certainly not fight. Why did you not stop when you first broke your ankle?"

After more fussing for Etrielle, lots of worry for Legolas, and a few trips back and forth to the river for Tauriel, Gilrael was mostly cleaned up, with her more serious wounds bandaged with Etrielle's emergency wraps.

The maid stood, wiping her hands on a cloth Tauriel had. "Well, let's not linger more than we should. It's high time we get back to the palace, lest your father go mad."

Legolas froze. How long had they been gone? The king would assume the worst, and Falluen and Arkanil would suffer the thick of it.

Arkanil! The general wasn't in the palace at all! He was still in that cozy room underground, possibly dead when the tunnels collapsed.

"Etrielle, we cannot leave yet. Arkanil is still in a room underground, near the entrance."

The maid shook her head. "He will have to wait. We need to bring Gilrael to the palace right now, or she will risk infection. Even a warrior like you should know that."

Legolas sighed, but suddenly, Gilrael sighed dramatically. "So, just stand over me discussing matters as if I don't exist, will you? Etrielle, how are we supposed to go if I can't…walk."

With a graceful scoop, she was laying safely in the Sinda's arms. Legolas smiled. "I hope you're not as heavy without your weapons."

Gilrael glared at him. "Don't make a habit out of carrying me, Greenleaf. I hate feeling useless, like baggage."

"You're the most beautiful baggage I have ever seen. And baggage is not useless."

"Legolas…" Gilrael threatened.

Etrielle cleared her throat. "We need to move now."

She turned on her heel and marched out, and Legolas followed. Tauriel trailed behind him, but she looked worried.

"Um, Gilrael? Have you seen my daggers anywhere? I know it's kind of-"

The elleth raised her head, and rested it on Legolas' shoulder while glancing behind. "Actually, Tauriel, I have them in my belt. Roquen left them before he departed. I'll give them to you when we-"

"Don't worry about them! Thank you!"

Gilrael settled back down, and whispered so only Legolas could hear. "I struck him in the hip, and I think that was the final act, because he didn't try to retaliate. Slowly, he drew the daggers from his belt and placed them next to me. Then, while he limped away, he called back to me, 'I wish we didn't have to be enemies, Gilrael, but you chose the wrong side. We will meet in battle again, and the next time, I will kill you.'"

She choked back a sob. "It's all my fault, Legolas. I was the one who corrupted him."

The elves followed Etrielle down a side tunnel, beyond the rushing rivers.

Legolas glanced down. "Is there no way to reverse it?"

Gilrael swallowed. "Yes, but I would be dead before I could reverse it." She rested her head against him, sniffling.

"Please don't leave me like Roquen did," she whispered.

Legolas was bewildered. He thought Gilrael didn't like Roquen. It would be well over a millennia before he untangled everything.

The tunnel they were going down was very dark, but it was navigable with elven eyes. At first, Gilrael was tense, as if she was uncomfortable laying so close to Legolas. But when they walked through the darkness for a while, she relaxed, allowing her body to be more easily carried.

Legolas murmured, "Not afraid of the dark, hmm?"

Gilrael sighed. "I'm more comfortable in it, which tells you a lot. Nothing good happens at night and all that. Still, I wish I had been exposed to the sunlight more often when I was growing up. I've often missed the light."

So she wasn't a hopeless case as Legolas had thought.

They wandered through the tunnels for some time before Tauriel groaned. "My feet are killing me. I've tried to keep up, but I just can't anymore."

Etrielle stopped and turned back. "I suppose it's time for a rest. Legolas can't carry everyone."

Legolas muttered, "As if I can carry Gilrael forever. She's heavy."

"Hey!"

They settled down in an alcove of rocks, Legolas gently placing Gilrael on the ground.

Tauriel leaned against the wall. "I'm hungry. And cold. And tired."

Etrielle shook her head. "Sorry, sweetie. I don't have anything that can help that."

"I do," Gilrael announced. She slipped a torch and a piece of flint out of her garments, handing them to Legolas, and pulled a blanket out.

The other elves stared at her, and as she received the blanket, Tauriel asked, "How do you fight carrying all that stuff?"

Gilrael shrugged. "It's a really good bag. Holds a lot of things, and stays close to you. That's also why I wanted my cloak, Legolas," she added. "It has a lot of nice compartments."

The prince stared at her as he held the blazing torch aloft. "You made all that fuss about the cloak because it has good storage? It's not magical, causing paralyzing fear?"

Gilrael shook her head. "No, not magical. Just an ordinary cloak."

"Would you care to explain what causes the fear?"

The elleth turned her back to him, and didn't say a word.

Etrielle cleared her throat. "Do you have any food for the elfling?"

"I'm not-"

"Here, Tauriel." Gilrael handed her a small biscuit, which the elfling took readily enough.

Etrielle rubbed her hands. "Well, while we're resting, I do believe this is a good time to tell you the story of my past."

They murmured an agreement as Gilrael turned back and absently threaded her fingers through Legolas'.

"A long time ago, when I was about your age, Gilrael, I served as Oropher's most valuable and trusted scout, spying out the enemy. When we marched south with the elves of Lorien for the battle against Sauron, right before the Battle of the Last Alliance, it was my lot to slip inside the dark ranks and hunt for information to be reported back to Oropher.

"But he didn't know that Sauron had found me a long time before, in the days of my youth, and had trained me, then sent me to infiltrate the elves of Eryn Lasgalen."

Gilrael made a gagging sound.

"So whenever I came back to report to the king, I always gave him false information, which put his army right where the orcs needed him. Thus, he and the lord of Lorien launched an early attack, disobeying the orders of Gil-galad because they thought, with my hunting, they knew better. They were wrong.

"Countless Silvan and Sindarin elves died that day, including Oropher, which had been my main task, but I felt like a wretch. The army was very diminished, precious few compared to our grand ranks at the start. Thranduil, the prince at the time, led a dejected troop back home, but he didn't banish me, for all who knew that I gave false information were dead.

"I dealt with that guilt very heavily. By Sauron's orders, I was supposed to return south and betray the combined armies of High-elves and Men, but I could not do an efficient job. Still, we won many battles, until Isildur broke off Sauron's hand and took the Ring. Then we were finished, and the Dark Lord's ranks were scattered."

Gilrael murmured, "Sauron hates you."

Etrielle started, and turned to her. "Really? Tell me more."

Gilrael sighed. "That's why he sent me. Well, partly why. He wanted me to, like you, infiltrate the elves, gain their trust and betray them."

Tauriel piped up, "And what Roquen wanted me to do."

Gilrael nodded. "But Sauron also wanted me to, um, exterminate Etrielle. She knows part of his future plans – not as much as I do but still a decent amount – and she was his one weak link. Now, of course, he has two weak links."

Etrielle shook her head. "One. My fighting days are over. I will remain silent, and take up healing. Besides, Gilrael probably knows what I do, and more."

Legolas stroked her hand which was in his. "What do you know, Gilrael?"

She pursed her lips. "Many things, none of them good." She glanced at Tauriel, whose eyes had started to droop, and who was fighting to stay awake.

"Sleep, Tauriel. We have traveled far enough for one day."

The elfling dropped off in a moment.

Later that night, while Legolas was 'resting', he overheard Etrielle and Gilrael's hushed conversation.

"Roquen is still out there, Etrielle, and that concerns me."

"Why? What harm can he bring?"

"He is intelligent, unlike the other orc generals. He will not make stupid plans, but ones that will never fail. Sauron doesn't like him very much, for various reasons, but he knows Roquen is cunning."

Etrielle looked grim. "So, are we dead?"

Gilrael sighed. "If Sauron had both Roquen and me at his disposal Middle Earth would be doomed, but he didn't expect I would switch sides. With Roquen on that side and me on the good side, we have some hope."

Now, Etrielle leaned forward and talked even softer. Legolas had to strain his ears to their maximum potential.

"Do you still have your ring?"

Gilrael nodded.

"What is it like?"

Gilrael exhaled slowly. "It is a curse, a burden. It gnaws my soul, presses immense weight on it, and sometimes I cannot breathe, or I feel so depressed and low in spirit that I…want to give up my spirit and fade away to Valinor. It provides a way for Sauron to channel himself into me, bestowing me with his thoughts, his strength, his skill, his power. He possess me, and I cannot control it."

She was clearly shaken, and something clenched around Legolas' heart. How dare anyone treat her like that! His hatred for Sauron burned anew.

Gilrael took a slow breath. "However, with it comes great power, more than you can imagine, but I use it very sparingly. A few days ago, when I blew up that tunnel, was the first time in ages. What of yours?"

Etrielle shook her head. "I destroyed it long ago."

Gilrael looked surprised, yet eager at the same time. "How did you do it?"

The older elleth sighed. "Well, I didn't do it, exactly. When Isildur cut off the Ring from Sauron's finger, it disintegrated. I felt so free, so refreshed. Oh, and my hair and eyes turned back to their old color."

Gilrael was very perplexed. "Hair and eyes?"

Etrielle nodded. "As you see, my hair is quite red, with a little brown. My eyes are light brown. But with the ring, my hair was dark brown, and my eyes black as night."

Gilrael whispered, "Like mine."

Etrielle smiled. "But you are fortunate to have golden accents. Mine had none."

"I wonder what color they used to be."

Etrielle took a deep breath. "I know, but that is not for you to know until the evil is destroyed."

Gilrael looked pained. "So you know how mangled I have become."

Etrielle ignored her. "Do you remember anything before your capture?"

Gilrael sucked in a quick breath. "Very little. Only the names of my parents, a-and Legolas."

The eavesdropping prince caught his breath. She remembered him?

"Alas, most of my memory of him has faded, but through all these years, I have held on to life because of him. I-I thought if I waited long enough, h-he might come a-and bring me to a better place."

Etrielle raised an eyebrow. "Why did you think of him instead of…the others? Do you remember…Glorfindel?"

Gilrael frowned. " 'Golden haired?' No, I recall no such person."

Etrielle looked down. "He will not be happy to know that."

Gilrael suddenly reached forward and grabbed her shoulders. Legolas tensed, prepared if she attacked the maid.

"NO! Do not tell anyone! The ones who know cannot be avoided: you, Legolas, Tauriel, Arkanil, Falluen, the king. Maybe a few guards. But I do not want anyone else to know of me. No one. You hear?"

Etrielle was startled. "W-why?"

Gilrael was, strangely, desperate. "Please, Etrielle! I will tell people in my own time, when I get to know them, when I deem it suitable. But until then, do not breathe a word about my past!"

Astonishingly, Etrielle conceded. "Very well, my dear. Now get some rest. I need some as well."

The maid laid down on her side, facing the wall. Gilrael inched towards Legolas slowly, and the prince stilled his breathing.

She brushed her fingers lightly over his cheek, a touch so soft if he had really been resting he would not have awoken. But he was awake, and it was all he could do not to allow a shiver to permeate through his body.

Gilrael murmured, "You did bring me to a better place, in the end. And you convinced me to turn from my corrupted ways, an impossible thing."

She paused, before whispering, "I owe you my life."

Her hand dropped, and she shifted to the side. Too suddenly. Her foot slammed against something, and she cried out. But no one responded.

Biting her lip, Gilrael laid back against the wall, her eyes scanning the room, and finally fixed her gaze on the sleeping elfling. How peaceful she looked! How much different Tauriel was than Gilrael when she was that age.

Gilrael felt a sudden attachment to her. She knew Tauriel's history; Roquen had told her. She knew if Legolas had not intervened, the elfling would eventually become much like her: stricken with endless, unrelenting guilt for more-than-grievous crimes, but unable to stop doing them for fear of the master.

That was really it. Gilrael had faced so much darkness, so much evil without any cowering that she may have been called a courageous warrior, but it was only because she feared someone greater than anything she had faced.

Gilrael didn't want that for Tauriel, or anyone else for that matter. That was why she was loath to tell anything that had happened to her while in captivity. The sorrow in her story was so great, the person hearing it would probably have nightmares for the rest of their life. Which was why Gilrael hated resting.

So she sat in the dark, watching with keen eyes that could pierce through the shadows looking for threats, and alert ears listening for…cursing?

Gilrael sat up straighter. It was a male voice, but her heartrate slowed when she realized it wasn't Roquen.

"You're not an elfling, Arkanil! Get over it! It's just a, just a broken knee! A broken, bleeding, painful…shut up!"

Gilrael blinked. Arkanil? The general had walked all the way to their tunnel with a broken knee?

The elleth shook Legolas, and fortunately she had the sense to pin his arms down and hiss, "It's Gilrael!"

The prince uncurled his fists and sat up. "What is it?" he whispered.

Gilrael sighed as Arkanil swore.

Legolas widened his eyes. "No…"

"Yes. Now don't just sit…there."

Legolas had disappeared into the darkness, weaponless in his excitement.