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I was encouraged at how readily Luinthol emerged from the Darkness. The first day he was quiet and drowsy when I visited and I thought for a time that perhaps my song had not been that effective. On the next day, though, when Ereglin and I arrived, Luinthol had been moved to one of the sunny veranda rooms. He was sitting with his back against a stack of pillows and his dark hair was braided. He wore a nightshirt of pale green. His face was slowly loosing that haunted look and his grey eyes looked rested and calm.

"Mae govenan," he greeted me as I entered the room, "I'd get up and bow to you properly, but Mainid has yet to give me permission to be out of bed." His voice was warm and bright and moved with the lilting cadence of one from the villages.

"Don't bother yourself," I responded. "I've brought you something. Sedeliel makes the best bread and she's sent me with two butter rolls for you. I asked her if she could send some honey cakes, but she said maybe tomorrow." I produced the two rolls and put them on Luinthol's bedside table. "Is there anything else we can bring you?"

"Only good health quickly," said Luinthol, "I need to get back to my company as soon as possible."

"You would go back and fight after what you've been through?" exclaimed Ereglin.

"I would go back and fight because of what I've been through," said Luinthol decisively. "The Darkness must be removed from the woods, and I aim to do my part. Besides, save for Celduin the Sinda, I'm just about the best swordsman in my company. My comrades depend on me and I need to be with them."

"How long will you be here?" I asked.

Luinthol sighed, "At least a fortnight, or so Mainid says. I hope to prove her wrong."

"We'll have to visit you often," I said. "Ereglin tells the best stories and I can bring you some of the rocks that we collect from the stream."

Luinthol smiled. "That would be welcome," he said, "but perhaps you'd be willing to tell me what goes on here at Thranduil's Halls. I hear things but these windows are too high for me to see out of properly. What would I see if I were allowed outside?"

Ereglin and I spend the next half hour or so talking to Luinthol about the happenings at the Keep. In turn, he entertained us with stories of his little brother and sister. His brother was about my age and always into mischief. I had to laugh at some of the predicaments he got himself into.

"I'd like to meet him, someday," I said at last.

Luinthol grinned, "I think you'd get along quite well, Legolas. He's hoping to become a warrior like our father, so perhaps he will visit the Keep for his training."

After a time, it was clear that Luinthol was ready to rest. I was not eager to go, but I found myself looking forward to our next visit.

A thunderstorm rolled through that night, and when I woke in the morning the air was clean and crisp. The curtain covered door between my room and my father's had been kept open since my father's return, and I eagerly scampered into his room for breakfast. He seemed sincerely delighted to have me with him, and took great interest learning all the events that happened in his absence. I took special care to avoid talking about Amondorn. I wasn't sure that I ever wanted to read or write again, and I didn't want my father to think that he needed to secure me another teacher right away. Talagand, on the other hand, had become one of my favorite people and I was happy to show my father some of the funny postures and breathing exercises that Talagand promised would improve my singing.

"Do you really feel that you've learned a lot from him?" asked my father.

I nodded, "He teaches things quite differently than Istuilalf, and he makes it fun. He said that he would teach me to play the little harp if I were willing to practice."

"And are you willing to practice?"

I wrinkled my nose, "I'm so very bad at playing. I don't think I have the patience to learn."

"And you would rather be outside, no doubt."

I grinned, "On a day like this, who would want to be indoors?"

"Well, unless I can find a way to move my papers into the yard, indoors is where you will find me today, nethben," said my father, "Where do you plan to go today?"

"Gaelin showed me how to fletch arrows," I reported, "Ereglin told me that she'll meet us at the range up by the Midsummer clearing."

"Well, off with you then," said my father. He poured himself another cup of tea as I left.

Gaelin was as good as her word. I was afraid that the arrows we had made would not be sturdy enough to really shoot, but as Ereglin and I came to the range, Gaelin was shooting them into the target one at a time to try them out.

"Good morning, Neylar!" she cried as she finished the task. "Your arrows came out quite well. Come and show me how well you can shoot."

Under Gaelin's watchful eye, I strung my bow. We moved a target closer. I worked hard to remember all of the steps she had taught me. It took three tries, but I finally got one of the arrows to stick in the bale of hay that held the target.

"You've got the steps down, Legolas," she said finally, "now you've just got to smooth things out a bit and relax. Let's let Ereglin take a turn, then you can try again."

"Does a tauron really need to know how to use the bow?" I asked somewhat petulantly after my second round went nearly as badly as the first. Working with the bow was becoming a source of frustration for me. Not only was my shooting erratic and fair and best, but Ereglin was proving to have a definite knack for the skill. Gaelin was ever patient with her teaching, but I could tell my slow progress was a challenge for her as well. If I just relaxed and shot the bow in a way that felt right, the arrow inevitably flew wide. If I recited the steps for shooting, my body did not seem to want to listen and I always had an arm or a shoulder out of alignment. I found myself breathing deeply quite a lot that morning, just to stay in balance. Finally, Gaelin saw that I had had enough.

"You and Ereglin leave your bows here and go pay a visit to Luinthol," Gaelin suggested, "He'll be happy to see you and when you get back, you can start fresh." Relieved, I unstrung my bow and set it carefully against a tree with my quiver. I didn't wait for Ereglin, but ran quickly from the clearing. I liked Luinthol and looked forward to our visit.

When I got to the healing house I made a beeline for Luinthol's room. The door was open, so I slipped inside unannounced. Luinthol was lying belly down with his shirt off. Manid was rubbing salve into his back. I tiptoed closer to greet him.

Mainid shifted to one side, and suddenly the sight of grotesquely battered flesh met my eyes. I paused, shocked. All of Luinthol's back, from his neck to his hips, was covered in welts and great raw patches of torn skin. Neat rows of stitches crossed each other in several places. His whole torso was bruised and discolored. Many of the wounds looked red and angry. Manid worked silently. I could just see Luinthol's face. His eyes were closed. He was biting his lips against the pain. I stared at the Luinthol for one eternal moment, then I turned and raced from the room.

I nearly ran into Ereglin as I leapt off the veranda.

"Eh, Legolas, what is it?" He caught me by the shoulders. "What's frightened you so?"

I shook my head and tried to speak. My stomach began to rebel and I clutched it trying to calm myself. "It's Luinthol." I said desperately, "He is hurt! He's hurt so badly. What happened to him, Ereglin? Why is he hurt like that?" I could almost feel his pain.

Ereglin knelt and took my two hands in his. He spoke carefully. "The orcs did that to him, Legolas. They abused Luinthol when he was with them. He's in the hands of healers now. He'll soon be well."

"They did it to him on purpose?" I cried, "On purpose they hurt him?" I was frantically trying to understand. "They can't do that, Ereglin. That can't have happened." I could not stop trembling. I had heard that orcs were evil, but until that moment I never realized all that it meant.

Ereglin embraced me again and held me. My fists were clenched in fear and rage, and sorrow swept through me tearing at my soul. "They can't do that, Ereglin. Why did it happen?"

"It's part of the Darkness we fight, Legolas. You don't need to go back in there. We can go away."

"No," I said. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I was still trembling. "I promised Luinthol that I would see him today. I'll be fine in a minute." I breathed deeply to calm myself.

Ereglin gazed at me soberly for a moment. Finally, he nodded his head. "We'll go see Luinthol then. Do you want me to see if he's ready to receive us?"

I nodded, blinking tears from my eyes.

I allowed Ereglin to lead the way. I peered around him as we entered the room. Mainid had left and Luinthol was there resting against his pillows. He looked a little pale, but if I had not seen his back, I would have thought nothing was amiss.

Luinthol looked at me soberly and raised his eyebrows, "That was you who left the room so suddenly, wasn't it?" I nodded. He sighed, "Eh, Legolas, I'm sorry." He extended his hands in greeting.

Slowly I took his hands in mine. They were warm and soft and whole. My feelings were still spinning inside of me. "Does it hurt much?" I whispered.

"Not anymore. Well, when Mainid comes it hurts sometimes."

"And orcs did that? They did that to you?" I still could not believe it. The idea of causing pain purposefully was unfathomable to me.

"It's how they are, Legolas."

I paused. I remembered in the village one spring there was a wolf that kept attacking our small herd of goats. It did not always eat what it had killed, but seemed to kill and maim the goats for sport. Celthar had finally shot and killed it with his bow.

"What do orcs look like?" I demanded. "Are they like great wolves?"

Ereglin and Luinthol looked at one another.

"Ai, Legolas," murmured Luinthol at last.

"But I want to know," I protested. "I need you to tell me."

Luinthol sighed, "They are like beasts bound to the form of men, but are neither one nor the other," he said, "They walk and move as men, but they are greatly disfigured and their skin is sallow and often scarred. They answer only to the Necromancer. They are consumed with the desire to maim and kill, Legolas. It is all that they know. Killing them is the only way to stop them."

I looked away. My heart was still stirred within me, and Luinthol's words brought no comfort. I kept remembering what I had seen. I needed to breathe or sing or climb or run, but the pain was on the inside and it wasn't going away. They had hurt Luinthol on purpose.

Luinthol still held my hands and he pulled on them gently, "Legolas, listen to me. The wounds I bear are the price I paid for killing three of the orcs. They hurt, but I will not be broken by the pain. With your help, I have already put the fear aside. Take what you are feeling now and push it from you, just like you pushed aside the darkness for me with your song."

I nodded. I wanted his words to make sense, but they only confused me. I pulled my hands from his and turned away. I could not bear to think of his pain.

Ereglin said our farewells and ushered me from the room.

We returned to the range in silence. As we walked, I felt a great rage building inside me. It was wrong for the orcs to hurt Luinthol so badly! It was wrong for them to frighten me, too. I began walking more quickly to get the anger out, but the more I thought about it, the more the anger and sorrow built. It was almost as though the Darkness was over me again, so powerful were the emotions.

When we arrived at the range, Ereglin said nothing, but picked up his bow and slung his quiver over his shoulder. He picked up my quiver and handed it to me as though it were time to go. I held the quiver and looked down at the arrows resting within. A vision of Luinthol's battered back came to me, and with it another wave of profound rage and sorrow. I needed to act, to do something.

Without a word I set the quiver down and strung my bow. I nocked an arrow. I poured my rage into the bow as I pulled, aimed and shot. I envisioned killing the orcs that hurt Luinthol. I envisioned killing them dead. The arrow hit the target with a satisfying thwack. I didn't take time to see where it landed, I just pulled another arrow from the quiver and made another shot. Hurting Luinthol was wrong. Seven times I pulled the bow and with each shot I envisioned that one orc was slain. When I was done I looked at my handiwork. Five of the shafts were neatly clustered near the center of the target.

Ereglin whistled low between his teeth. "Eh, Legolas, you looked like a warrior killing orcs!"

"I was not killing anything," I muttered. I put away my arrows then left the clearing.

I was quiet and subdued for the rest of the day. Ereglin was nearby, but he was wise enough to give me some time to sort things out. I was restless and took to the trails near the keep. I climbed any number of trees. I didn't stay long enough to let them comfort me. They hurt Luinthol on purpose. My whole world darkened with that one thought. Finally, I left Ereglin behind and climbed to the peak that my father had taken me to. The rock was bare and hard and large enough that I felt quite small sitting under the cloudless blue dome of the sky. There was a breeze that played among the rocks, but it did not blow my thoughts away. They hurt Luinthol on purpose. I wrapped my arms around my knees and stared into the sky.

"Ereglin said that you would be here." I watched my father climb across the granite face to where I was sitting. I looked at him and then looked away. He sat down near me but did not touch me. "He told me what happened." We sat in silence for a time.

"What is it like in the south?" I asked my father. "What is it really like?"

My father chose his words carefully. "It is as I said, Legolas, a beautiful place. It is strong and wonderful and good. But the Darkness is there, too. I will not deny it. There are many vile creatures, orcs, spiders and others that would lay claim to the forest. They are the enemy that we fight."

"And people get hurt."

"Yes, they do. And people die. Many, many of our warriors have died, Legolas. But they continue to fight."

"Why do they fight, Ada? Why don't they just go somewhere safe?"

"You have seen the map, nethben. Where would you have them go?"

I remembered the map. Most of the great wood was covered in Darkness. I rested my chin on my knees. "My village is safe," I said in a little voice.

"And the warriors can seek safety there?" My father looked at me kindly. "Yes, your village is safe, and that is why we fight. Places of joy and love and harmony are the very things we need to preserve. The forest is ours, Legolas, and we are the forest. Every tree and every creature depends on us. Would you willingly leave the forest to the orcs? For they will take over if given the chance." He paused and shook his head, "No, the dark creatures need to be killed, and the Necromancer purged from the forest. The battle that we face is far greater than just physical might. It is a battle for the soul of the woods and the spirit of the Laegrim. We cannot hide and we will not step down."

"And what about Luinthol? He is hurt so badly!"

My father sighed, "We cannot step down, Legolas, no matter what the cost."

The silence resumed as I considered my father's words.

"Are you going to the south to fight again, Ada?" I asked finally

"Yes, Legolas, but not right away."

I chewed on my lower lip which had begun to tremble. "Are you going to get hurt like Luinthol did?"

"I don't plan on it Legolas. But if I do, I will do my best to come home."

"But you will come home, won't you?"

My father got to his feet. "Wait here," he said. He began walking across the rocks slowly, looking carefully into the crevices and cracks. His face lit up and he smiled. "Legolas, come," he whispered urgently. He knelt down and I hurried to kneel beside him.

There, sheltered by his hand, was a tiny flower no bigger than the tip of my thumb.

"Look at this blossom," he spoke from behind my shoulder, "Ten thousand tons of rock sit beneath it, it is vulnerable to the rain, the wind and the parching sun. It will live but for a few short days. In spite of all those many troubles it grows and brings beauty to the world." He moved his hand, "There, you see? It's dancing in the wind. Dancing, Legolas!" He turned and shrugged and gave me an apologetic smile, "I can't protect you from all of the evil in Arda. But I can ask you to remember the flower. When Darkness threatens your heart you can fall to worry or sorrow or fear, or you can hold fast to the beauty in your soul and decide to dance in the wind."

He sat next to me then, and drew me into his strong embrace. I leaned into him and wept.