A/N: So...I FINALLY GRADUATED HIGH SCHOOL! I am so excited, and terrified to go out and face the real world. On the bright side, there is always this world of creative fantasy that I can lose myself in. So to celebrate, I decided I would post this chapter for you, my readers, to mark the end of an extremely long four year journey that has flown by. Please enjoy, and please know that everything is coming down to a boil! We are so close to finding Círdan that not even Elros can hold in his excitement and nerves!

Elrond and Elros jumped the remaining three or four feet to the ground.

Once there, Heledhon came forward, "We are under orders to get you to the healing wing. Once we are done there, we need to get to the caves and search there quickly. Lord Tegolon knows that you were intending to search there."

"We packed the supplies we would normally take when exploring caves, and he has seen us do so before." Elros said.

"It is good to know that he recognized the signs and could give us clear instructions." Idhrenor said from the shadows. Surprisingly, neither twin jumped, even though they were startled. They were too well trained to reveal anything that could give away thoughts or feelings, especially when it was during a mission.

Both twins nodded and Elrond said, "We are running out of time," his eyes distant and voice ominous.

Heledhon seemed to decide not to dwell on morbid or unhelpful thoughts. He only nodded; then seemed to melt back into the foliage, followed quickly by the others.

Moving through the underbrush showed off the skills of the twins. No twig cracked the entire time that they slipped through the trees and bushes of the elaborate gardens of the palace grounds. In no time at all, the silent elves had made it to an arch in the palace wall. What set this one apart was that there was no door, only a brick wall.

This did not deter Belegon, who went to the arch and knocked a pre-arranged signal on the wooden portion of the wall.

In an instant the door was opened, causing the twins to start. They had not, in all their explorations, known about this passageway.

"The maids use it more than anyone else," Nestor whispered quietly.

Both twins nodded, and relaxed when Merilinel opened the door.

Belegon stepped through first, after quietly touching her shoulder and smiling gently. She returned the smile with one full of affection.

'It seems I was wrong,' Idhrenor thought, 'He is in love with Merilinel, not Glaeweth. Oh...wait. Glaeweth and Belegon are close cousins. That actually explains a lot, including why Heledhon had not cared when I told him that a few months ago.'

Idhrenor shook his head and took up the rear; helping Merilinel shut the door.

She stayed at the door in the semi-darkness as Heledhon took a torch and started walking.

Erestor had decided that if he did not lose his position as an aide to the regent of Mithlond and Lindon because of this conspiracy, then he could survive anything.

With those and more entertaining thoughts running through his head (including trying to figure out how he got talked into this. He was of the firm opinion that it was because he was the only one of Lord Tegolon's aides that was devious enough to think of something like this. Having three brothers was helpful as well, since outsmarting them was easier said than done); Erestor sat down in a chair near the fireplace.

Lavaneth and Levenil came over; curious as to who this person was and what he was doing. A few minutes later they curled up together on a very comfortable-looking cushion on the couch across from Erestor; curiosity satisfied and finding him not worth their interest.

Erestor raised an eyebrow and looked around. An open, incomplete manuscript was on the desk; and Erestor could just make out the title: "Of The Sack Of Sirion and the Tale After."

Erestor shook his head; there was a lore-master in the making here. He wondered if anyone knew just how gifted the young Peredhel were.

'They probably do not even know themselves,' he thought as his ears picked up the sound of footsteps coming near from the hallway.

Glancing toward the slightly closed bed-chamber door, Erestor stood and squared his shoulders.

'Time to see how good of a deceiver I can be,' he thought as the hallway door started to open.

The passageway ended in the hallway where the door to the healing wing was.

Ólerydeth was waiting at the exit, and when they were close enough she whispered, "The guards will change soon."

"What use is that to us?" Elros whispered, "Fresh guards are more vigilant."

"These fresh guards will helps us," Elrond said quietly before turning to Heledhon, "Am I correct?"

Heledhon nodded, "These guards know about this. Their orders are to keep everyone out of the wing for now, even the counselors. No one will disturb us."

Elrond turned back to his brother, "Will you please shut up before we are spotted or heard?" he hissed as Elros opened his mouth yet again.

Elros snapped his mouth shut and was quiet.

There was a slight rap on the hallway side of the passage, and everyone stopped what they were doing to listen as two sets of feet walked by.

Ólerydeth peeked her head out a tiny bit, then opened the door all the way. Once everyone was out, she went back in and shut the door.

Órodon and Talathon were guarding the door, and they did nothing as the six elves slipped in.

Hadlathon came forward, "This way," was all he said, "Be as quick as you can, but do not rush."

"Do not try and stop what comes next, no matter what," Elros stated seriously, "Even if we are found out do not interfere."

Hadlathon nodded and the crowd of healers surrounding the bed parted.

The king was stiller than before, his face ashen and breathing almost non-existent. He seemed to be starting to struggle to draw breath.

For those who had not seen the king in this state it was a shock, but Elrond ignored the signs of impending death. He walked over to the side of the bed and sat down; extending his hand to rest against the king's cheek. He closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them again; they were completely blank as he looked at his brother, but there was a question in his eyes.

Elros shook his head in a negative manner, " You are better at this than I."

Elrond nodded and turned to Hadlathon, "I need freshly cut athelas and hot water."

Faneth immediately left, while Hadlathon cocked his head in confusion, "Why do you need...?"

"It is the way of things," Elrond said while he set up the water near Gil-galad, "We do not bother to ask why. It is not for us to question what our older instincts tell us to do," and ancient knowledge burned in those silver eyes that seemed older than time.

Hadlathon, indeed everyone, stared at him. Now, Elrond did not look like a young elf scarred by a home being destroyed, but like an ancient being that had seen the world in the Beginning, and as a descendent of kings.

The moment was gone in an instant, and Elrond had leaned down and breathed on the athelas. He murmured something, then threw the athelas into the water.

In an instant, the room filled with the smell of spring air in the forest. Everyone's heads and hearts seemed lighter and calmer, which was a surprise.

Normally the smell of athelas was mild and faint, even when in hot water. How this was possible was beyond everyone in the room. Almost everyone; for Hadlathon had suspected them capable of this for some time. He had not known Melian personally, but he had known of some of her skills and abilities.

It seemed her descendants had inherited this talent as well, even though Hadlathon was worried. Calling a fëa back was draining, and they did not have time to wait for Elrond to regain his strength enough to help search for the missing Shipwright.

Glancing around, he saw that Elros had wandered over to Nestor and touched his arm. When Nestor looked at him, he only nodded in the direction of the herb table.

Nestor looked ready to protest, but Elros shook his head, "There is nothing anyone can do now but wait. I need your help with something for both Elrond and Gil-galad when Elrond is finished."

Nestor looked over at Elrond, whose hands were on Gil-galad's brow and over his heart. His eyes were closed, breathing deep and steady. It seemed things were out of their hands, so with a sigh of resignation Nestor turned away to help Elros.

Hadlathon, after watching Elrond for a time, also went to where the apprentice, Aernith, and the junior healer Ladrengilien were getting things ready for when they returned from the caves. The surgery room was being carefully cleaned, as was every surgical instrument and tool they could possibly need or think of. The herbs were being prepared, as were all the bandages they could find.

They needed to be prepared for what was to come, since they did not know what to expect.

Gil-galad drifted in a world of pain and darkness. He had tried to get out and back to his body, which he sensed was getting farther and farther away.

If only he knew where it was so that he could try and get back. Nothing he had tried could get him out of this place, whatever it was, and he was desperate. He knew where Círdan was, and he needed to tell someone!

Right now!

That brought him back to the fact that he did not know how to return to his body.

All of a sudden, a mist began to form. Great gates appeared and a hauntingly familiar melody started to come to his ears from the fog. He recognized it as the song his father had sung to him before he had been entrusted to the care of the Shipwright.

Gil-galad knew what this was, but he was not sure if it was what he wanted. All the same, the lure was almost overpowering.

He looked behind him but all he saw was darkness.

He faced front, and stood on the precipice of death and life, uncertain which path to take.

One was here in front of him, but the other he could not find in this thick, cloying darkness that surrounded him.

Gil-galad's breathing became thready and irregular, causing Faneth to become panicked as he seemed to slip farther and farther away.

Warms arms encircled her, and she leaned into her husbands embrace as they watched the silent battle continue; for Elrond's face was one of extreme concentration and focus as he searched for Gil-galad's wandering fëa.

Elrond searched the darkness, but he did not looked for too long in one place.

Having done this before he knew what to listen for, and he heard the singing in an instant. Following the sound, he came upon the gates and Gil-galad, who was uncertain and staring at them.

"Ereinion," he called, and the king turned. His eyes lit up as Elrond came forward, then he frowned.

"How is this possible?" he asked, "I am dying, but you are not and right here."

"You are not dying, Gil-galad," Elrond stated firmly, "Your fëa has just wandered a little too far. I can bring you back. You will have a long road of recovery ahead, but you will live. Your people need you. My brother and I need you. You are the last of our kin this side of the Sea. Any others are long gone."

Gil-galad hesitated; the lure of the gates being almost too much.

"Círdan needs you," Elrond said as he continued to hesitate.

Those words reminded Gil-galad of what needed to be done and what he needed to say, "I am assuming I will not be able to say anything when we return?"

Elrond nodded, hope starting to appear in his eyes as he reached out his hand to the king.

Before Gil-galad took his hand, though, he said, "There is a tunnel entrance near the dining hall. It leads to the caves. The entrance on that side is just inside the cave entrance, but it is hard to see," he stopped as he looked closely at the young elf, "but you know this already."

Elrond nodded once; and Gil-galad closed his eyes and shook his head as he reached for and took Elrond's hand. He would never understand how Elrond knew these things, "There is also a room deep in the caves that used to serve as a cold place to preserve jams and jellies. I do not know where it is exactly, but I think it would be the perfect place to hide someone." He stated as he prepared for what was to come.

Warmth spread through his body, starting from his hand. It then felt as though he was flying; faster and faster and faster until he slammed into his body with a pained cry.

Elrond suddenly tensed, and Elros was by Gil-galad's side in an instant, cup in hand. Nestor stood behind Elrond with another cup, Heledhon there to catch him if need be.

Things happened very quickly in the next few minutes.

Gil-galad coughed: a deep, choking cough followed by a gasp. He breathed in deeply, then let out a cry of pain as his lung protested such a deep breath.

Elros was there in a heartbeat, and with Edraithel's help had Gil-galad drain the cup completely. He quieted after that, slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Only this time he would wake, and he would recover.

At the same time; Elrond had fallen backwards and to the side. He was pale and shaking as he was held up by Heledhon, and his eyes were closed. His hands were also very cold.

Nestor held the cup to his lips, and Elrond drank without hesitation. His hands warmed, and after a few moments he was able to hold himself up without aid. Nodding his thanks to Heledhon, Elrond turned his attention to Hadlathon who was examining the king. He carefully peeked under the bandage to check for fresh bleeding, then gently pressed the area around the stitches to see if any of the stitches inside had come undone.

After a few moments, Hadlathon turned his attention to Elrond, "Well done," was all he said, but Elrond knew that he was pleased and happy with what had just been done and accomplished.

Turning to the others, Hadlathon said, "He will wake in the morning, and should be fine; even though it will be very difficult to breathe for a long time."

"That is good to hear," Lord Tegolon's voice sounded from the door.

Turning to the doors revealed the elf lord carrying the twin's weapons and looking relieved.

He came forward and handed out the blades, saying: "Be careful, and do not do anything foolish. Erestor is running out of excuses about why you will not speak with anyone, so please be quick in your search."

Both twins nodded and Tegolon left. Once the door was closed, Faneth asked: "What were those two brews, Elros?"

"One was a powerful sedative, so your estimate may be a little off, Master Hadlathon," Elros said. Hadlathon raised an eyebrow and asked, "How far off?"

Elros winced slightly, "I would say maybe five or six hours."

Hadlathon shook his head before asking, "And the second?"

"A stimulant the dwarves taught us to make," Elros said, "Elrond will have enough energy for another day or so. Then he will collapse, and will not wake for maybe eight hours."

"The guards will be changing soon," Uilosseth said from the doors where she was keeping an eye out for unwanted company, "You must hurry."

Faneth disappeared for a minute; coming back quickly with a packed healers bag. She gave Elrond, Elros, and Nestor three more bags.

The twins took one last at Gil-galad before leaving with everyone, including Faneth who could not be convinced to stay behind.

Heledhon seemed particularly distressed about this and looked as though he wanted to argue. Thankfully he realized how time sensitive this was and let it alone.

The trip to the passageway was made without trouble or incident; as was the journey through it. Merilinel let them out and the trip through the city was easily made, as was the trip down the beach. It seemed the Valar were shining down on them in that moment. Unfortunately, bad luck seemed to follow not far behind the good. The group approached the cave entrance quickly but stopped when a red-haired figure stepped into their path.

"Halon," Belegon said in greeting, "What are you doing here?"

The twins were staring at Halon in surprise as old memories assaulted them.

"Stopping you," Halon said calmly.

Belegon, indeed everyone except the twins, was surprised by this statement, then Heledhon said, "Halon, what-?" but was cut off.

My name is not Halon, it is Faerthurin of Doriath," he said through gritted teeth.

"What are you talking about?" Idhrenor asked, completely confused.

"We know," Elrond said. Everyone turned to him, and he said, "You betrayed Sirion when the Fëanorians came. And after that you attempted to teach us to fight left-handed."

"You said it was Maedhros that injured your hand," Nestor said as he turned to Elros.

Elros shook his head, "No, it was Halon. We only lied because we saw him here and did not understand how he got here or how he was accepted. It took us months to piece the puzzle together. The only thing I do not understand is why? Why hurt us? We have done nothing to you."

"No, but your father did," Halon sneered, "When the Sons of Fëanor attacked Doriath I stayed behind to let Elwing escape. It was only a stroke of luck that I managed to escape. When I learned she married Eärendil I considered killing him, but he was never there when I was in the city. When she abandoned Middle-Earth for you I decided you two would be better substitutes. I was going to hurt her, but I was too late. And what better way to hurt you then to hurt those you care about? But be assured that I left Himring in quite a state when I left. I think I framed Lainor, but I cannot be sure."

Only Elrond's powerful grip kept Elros at bay.

"Círdan is probably dead by now," Halon said suddenly; the quick switching of topics showing how deep into the abyss of madness he had fallen, "You have two options: follow me and avenge yourselves for my wrongdoing in whatever way you see fit; or search the caves for Círdan's cold corpse. It is your choice."

Nothing could stop Elros now, and he lunged at Halon. Halon was quicker though, and was halfway down the beach before they realized what was happening.

"Elros, no!" Elrond yelled when Elros looked ready to pursue, "We have to focus, and Halon is not worth our focus right now!"

Elros still hesitated, and Elrond said, with a note of desperation in his voice, "Think of Círdan. It has been two weeks, and you know what Halon is capable of."

Those words got Elros into the caves and lighting a torch before they realized it, and he was ready to go and pacing while more torches were lit.

They then followed him as he moved quickly into the twisting tunnels of the caves.

All except for Elrond. He went more slowly for a few minutes before hurrying after the others into the darkness.

Translations:

Peredhel – half-elven
Fëa – spirit
Athelas – King's foil