DISCLAIMER AND NOTE: Anything recognizable belongs to Tolkien, the rest is mine. This is Amorith's narrative. I will be leaving for overseas tomorrow so the next chapters to be uploaded will be some time.

The Task

I felt my head fall heavily to the ground, my tears still running down my face. I was sobbing now, fingers clenched into fists, pounding the leaf-laden ground beneath me. I again renewed my cry of shame to Lady Galadriel repeatedly, until I felt myself exhausted, and so I slipped into a state of semi-consciousness, bound by my grief, despair, and shame. My eyes were closed, yet I became aware of a blinding white light surrounding me. I felt relieved by this, and found that I was able to stand without difficulty. Ahead of me, I saw the form of a lady, beckoning with her hands. I followed her, feeling as if I were walking through a tunnel. After some time she vanished, and I hurried along, panic-stricken. I had to find the lady, she would help me; I knew that now. Stumbling forward, my breathing came in sharp intakes. When I felt I could not go on, I fell forward, and with a soft cry found myself lying next to the Mirror. On the opposite side, I saw the Lady Galadriel, and next to her was Forfirith. I stood at once, for it was my sister who I had seen and had been following. The pair was silent as they regarded me.

"Are we in Lórien?" I asked. "How can it be, when you were attacked?"

Lady Galadriel smiled, fixing her gaze on me. Forfirith moved away, seating herself on a hewn tree trunk. She kept her face hidden from me.

"Our location is of no importance. Yet to answer your question, Lórien was attacked, indeed, but the Orcs did not come to harm Caras Galadhon."

I directed my next question at Forfirith.

"Are you now in Lórien?"

Again, the Lady Galadriel answered, "She remains in Fangorn Forest."

"Then how can she be here?"

"You are in Mirkwood, yet here you are. It does not always necessitate that a person be present physically to be truly present. When you dream, you feel it just as real as if you were awake."

"Am I dreaming then?"

"Only you will decide that for yourself. You called out for help, and we have answered."

"I called out because there is no hope in Thranduil, there never was. I called out because I have

failed you, and Lórien will fall because of me. I have failed you most despairingly, shamefully."

Fofirith continued staring at her feet, whispering, "You have only failed yourself, then."

Lady Galadriel was silent, looking at me desolately.

"How can you have failed when you said yourself that there was never any hope in Thranduil?"

I sat down on the grass, wringing my hands together, shaking my head. I did not understand at all what was occurring. How could this be real, when I knew I was in Mirkwood? I could still smell the musty earth and feel the heaviness of its shadows. And why was Forfirith present? Lady Galadriel's presence was not surprising, but Forfirith, what stake did she have in any of this?

"Galadriel, I beg you to release me from my suspense, for I do not think I can tolerate anything more. I am at my wit's end, what with the palace in upheaval, and my Míriel—"I said, descending into tears once more.

At this, Forfirith softened, saying, "I think it wise to tell her now."

Galadriel nodded, solemnly, and into our minds she spoke, in her deliberately slow manner.

"Forfirith was quite concerned about you, Amorith. She questioned me regularly about your doings, and with what did I have to respond? That you were withdrawn, shut out from the company of others by your own desire, allowing yourself to be swallowed by your grief. Gone were the fierceness of your mind, and the sharpness of your tongue. Gone was the Amorith we all knew, the Amorith who vowed to let nothing stand in her way."

The Lady paused, and I glanced sharply at my sister.

"Is this a trial, to condemn me for something that is beyond my control? Or does Forfirith feel challenged, to have someone become as broody as herself? You do not know the pain I suffer, the misery I face—" I said, seething.

"It is true we cannot understand the intensity of your pain, but we can understand when we see someone who has allowed it to consume them. Forfirith was frightened, realizing the true extent of your love for Thranduil. But she would not see you turn into her, because that is not your fate. And so she worried about you in agony, thinking of a way to revive you to your true self. As for myself, I knew that the Amorith who dwelled with me now was not the same kinswoman who lived with me with such vivacity in Doriath. It is disheartening when a Noldo despairs, for we are filled with much passion, and whatever course that passion flows, a fire drives us on. I did not wish to see you pass on to the Halls of Mandos, overcome with your grief."

I lifted my head, tears glistening in my eyes. I had not known the Lady had observed the intensity of my pain, for it was just as she had described. She was always attending councils, seeing to the affairs of her realm, accompanied by her Lord—why would she bother herself with my misery? Coming to Lórien, I allowed myself to live through my pain, and my pain only. I truly had become what Forfirith was, a recluse from the world, selfishly immersed in my own burdens.

"It was known to me for some time that Dol Guldur would in all likeliness launch an attack on us. I was not afraid, for I knew we would vanquish them. We did not know the exact hour. And I knew that Thranduil had known, and I doubted very much he would warn us, and therefore was not surprised when he did not. You Amorith, of all of us perhaps, know the full reasons, but I knew them just the same. His unwillingness to warn us did not trouble me, but the news that the kin of my people were without their King was very concerning, for I also knew that Dol Guldur would not be satisfied until Mirkwood was attacked as well. I took counsel with my Lord, and long we debated what, if anything, we should do. True Thranduil did not care for us, but the same did not necessarily hold true of us, of me." Lady Galadriel continued, pointedly.

"How can you be so sure that Lórien will not fall?" I asked. "The Orc forces are vast,"

At this, the Lady smiled, filling the Mirror with water from the small waterfall cascading behind Forfirith. Galadriel waited until the last silver-clear drop of water fell from the jug she held before replying to the question she had been posed. Forfirith, I noticed, was looking at me with the expression of one who is taken by a sudden astonishment.

"You amaze me, Amorith, you who pride yourself on knowing the greatest accomplishments of the Elves. Have you truly forgotten what it is that enables me to guard this fair realm from the evils of this world?" Galadriel said, and she lifted back her sleeve from her hand, revealing what lay beneath it, glimmering in the night. "Without Nenya, Lórien would be nothing at all. It has remained unused when the One Ring was with its master. So long as Sauron does not possess his Ring, I may wield mine to ward off his attacks. The Orcs will not be able to overcome the power of Nenya so long as He does not reclaim his Ring. Now, I may unleash my fury on those Orcs. They will come in great hordes, and my Silvan people, with the aid of Nenya, will crush them."

I stared at the Lady, who had spoken those words so coldly and with such venom in her voice that I wondered if the Ring had affected her. But looking into Galadriel's azure eyes, I knew that what the Lady said was the truth, that Lórien would indeed be spared.

"Forgive me, for the matter is rather delicate and secret in nature." I whispered. "You knew all that when you sent me away, why did you send me then?"

Forfirith lifted her head, her eyes darting between Galadriel and me.

"For a great many reasons. You have guessed them yourself, journeying through Mirkwood. You know there are those here who doubt your worthiness; they would gladly claim that your hand joined in the workings of evil. During a time as this, it would not do to have my people divided. So it was decided by Lord Celeborn himself that you would present yourself before Thranduil—"

"On a task to ask for his help, help which he would never give us, and most importantly, which is not needed. Was I to be made a mockery, then?"I asked, feeling the heat of my anger.

"Amorith!" Forfirith cried, attempting to rein my haughtiness.

I only turned my head away, fighting the urge to scream. I had been made a puppet, a puppet sent on a hollow task to burn for the entertainment of all. They had tired of me in Lórien, so they decided to return me to Mirkwood, only this time I would not return. Had they told Thranduil of this? Was there an exchange of gold or jewels even? Did Haldir know?

"I am partially to blame, Forfirith, because the purpose of the task was never told to Amorith, she only implied it to herself," Galadriel said, smiling, and I recalled suddenly the day prior to my departure, meeting with the Lady in her garden after my nightmare, discussing my future, conversing about the war, the discrepancies of old, telling her I agreed to the task…but what had the task been? Galadriel never indicated anything but a way for my redemption, it was I who had assumed—"Since we were discussing Thranduil, and the coming war, you took it to indicate we needed his assistance, and that you were to achieve that. I am sorry now, for it was meant for you to leave, but not to obtain his assistance, for we all knew even then that it was a pointless endeavor. None knew the real nature of your task except for those who had to know."

"Then what is my purpose?" I asked.

"You knew your purpose when you left," Galadriel resumed, and withdrew a single sheet of parchment. "This was found trampled beneath the Orcs, with blood staining the ground and the branches of the tree above where it lay. This letter has served more than one purpose, and all in your favor. But that is not what you have come here for, is it?"

I closed my eyes, not to stem tears once more, but in confirmation. I had known, since reading Celemirë's letter, what my purpose was. Though the letter had been short, I had been able to see what was not written, and piece that together with the information Legolas had given me. I knew Mirkwood was without King for all considerate purposes, that a request for help was not the key issue, that the King himself was the key issue. Everything was opposite. I opened my eyes.

"That is not an option," I said, swallowing back my feelings.

Forfiirth stared at me with distaste.

Lady Galadriel moved to the Mirror, her azure eyes closed beneath her lids, her hands deftly stirring the water in the bowl. Forfirith was the one now to speak.

"Lord Elrond knew of the Ring being kept by Frodo from Gandalf, and when it was decided that the Shire was no longer safe, Elrond sent emissaries for what would become the Council. The choice of who would represent the Elves was more tedious; Elrond himself wanted someone from the home of his wife, but Galadriel refused. It was enough, she stated, that the Council was held by the bearer of an Elven Ring, and those dwelling in Lórien were also under the power of a Ring. Mithlond, home of Círdan, would not be as greatly concerned with the matter of the One Ring as the rest of Middle-earth. There only remained Mirkwood," my sister narrated, and at her pause I felt my chest tighten. I did not want to know why the choice had been made as it was. I felt cheated, lied to. "It was deemed the most suitable choice, for they had guarded Gollum before his escape, and so they were aware of the perils of the Enemy. When Legolas arrived at Imladris to report the escape of Gollum, I was present, by request of Lady Galadriel. I spoke to the Prince, bestowing the honor of this privilege upon him, and to which he readily accepted and agreed without hesitance. But I also told him that the suspicion of Dol Guldur to attack both Lórien and his father was known to the Golden Wood, and since it was no secret the state of Thranduil, specific aid would come to him, but it would prove beneficial that Legolas join the Council and aid the Ring-bearer in his actions. The Prince did not question me, having already guessed the nature of the aid his father would receive. Bound to secrecy, he could tell no one, not even you, Amorith, when he met you here. He was appointed to further assist you by informing you of the King's frame of mind, and when he saw me in the Forest of Fangorn, I knew he had succeeded in what he had been tasked. All we awaited was your actions."

I was rooted to where I stood, unable to believe what my sister had just told me. That she had left her Forest had been my first shock, but it paled beyond comparison to the tale she just shared. It had been planned, for some time, this I could clearly see now. There was nothing that had not been rehearsed, thought out, enacted; again I felt as if I were merely a puppet moved hither and thither by higher powers. Was there no one who was not involved…Lord Elrond for the Valar's sake! And Legolas, my dear Legolas, who had sat with me, pouring his anguish to me, feeding me what was needed for the days to come! Legolas, of the Council of Elrond, and the Council of Galadriel! There had been many secret meetings about me…without me…

"Come, Amorith, there is something you must see," Galadriel beckoned.

I found myself moving stiffly towards her, until I was standing exactly opposite her. Eyes open now, with her palms facing up, spread out as if in welcome before her for me, she indicated the Mirror with her golden head. Nenya flashed as it stood above the waters beneath.

There was the palace of Thranduil, but it was not the same. The halls were full of angry Elves, carrying torches and weapons, crying out for Thranduil to revenge their lost loved ones, to avenge their home, but Thranduil did not answer, for he lay dead on the cold floor beneath them, his blood flowing as freely as the river waters from his wounds. And the Silvans, devoid of King, devoid of any solid leader, rushed out to the oncoming Orcs, but I knew they would never find victory. They were fearless fighters, but without someone to guide them, they were unable to organize themselves as one united front. Dispersed as numerous little clans, they were easy targets for the Orcs, and Mirkwood burned with their bodies, and their trees served as their kindling. From there, the Orcs spread northward, into Lake-town, and east to Imladris—

Horror overtook me, and I wrenched the Mirror from its stand, throwing it to the ground, screaming. This is the fate of Mirkwood, the fate marching black; at noon it would be here. The King would have no time, no warning. Even if he had, he would do nothing. I could do nothing. His people would not believe in me, and there was not time enough to convince them of what needed to be done. They would cast me out, kill me…

"The Mirror has shown you what will become of Mirkwood if Thranduil does not find the strength he needs to lead his people into battle," Galadriel spoke.

"He does not have enough warriors," I said, knowing the doom was sealed.

"After Imladris, I accompanied Legolas to Mirkwood, but I did not go into the palace, I stayed amongst the trees, for Fangorn spoke of hardy Ents who had long been slumbering, and they had sworn an oath long ago to protect Eryn Galen in its time of greatest need." Forfirith said.

"In all my time there, never have I seen an Ent,"

"It was said only the lady of the woods could awaken them, but I failed, and even Galadriel said in the time of Oropher she did not see Ents, nor were there any spoken of when the Queen lived.

"The Ents have long slumbered, and may have forgotten their promises, yet if they have not, then surely there is no lady of the woods now since three women's efforts were not reaped. If it warms your heart to know this Amorith, then I hope you listen. Lord Elrond has sent a legion of his best warriors, feeling that since he has risked the kingdom of Mirkwood by occupying its Prince, this is the least he could offer in return. At dawn they will be present. And the Men of Lake-town, with whom Thranduil has maintained a cordial friendship with over many long years, and at councilor Aranel's request under the command of Legolas, have sent a legion of Men arriving by river as well. They too shall be there at dawn."

I paced in silence, my mind filled with the visions from the Mirror, and the voices of Forfirith and Lady Galadriel. I was astounded at the level of oversight, the great lengths that had been taken to conceal this grand arrangement. So much concern for Mirkwood, even when a greater worry exists now, but it was needed. Mirkwood was a delicate realm and its downfall could mean the downfall of other realms as well. And the inactivity of Thranduil forced Elrond and Galadriel to initiate protective measures without consulting him, not out of superiority, but rather out of need and worry. They implemented all that they could do, but the one obstacle remained: to convince Thranduil of what he had to do. None of these arrangements would be beneficial if he did not feel the desire to accept them, if he was not persuaded.

Galadriel smiled softly at me now, taking my hand in hers. Her eyes were slightly misty as the true nature of my task now unfolded itself in my mind. I did not hate her, not for the manner in which she executed matters, nor from concealing this news from me. I had known what my true task was, but did not wish to believe it so. And she had known from even before any of this had started that I would prove to be the most formidable obstacle, not Thranduil. Galadriel knew I needed to leave Lórien and travel to Mirkwood to see with my own eyes the actual manner of affairs, for there was no other way to convince me. Patiently she waited, sensing my growing awareness, feeling my despair at the situation. And everything that occurred along the way was meant for this moment: the poison had cleansed me of my impatience, the Eagles were indeed a sign of my redemption, and Celemirë was my motivation. If for nothing at all, it was for her, for the people, because they deserved to not die in such a callous manner. They were the pawns in this private war between Thranduil and me. It was the people of Mirkwood whom I cherished the most, for they had welcomed me into their midst, allowed me to refine them, and in turn I had fought for them and their King, and they had called me Mistress…and then I abandoned them.

"I have always known since my exile he would never love me again. It was not all his fault, for I knew he detested lies, and I lied to him for so long, how could I have expected him to be anything but himself? Is it always so, love and lies?" I whispered, feeling myself calmer now than before.

"Only if there is reason for shame or embarrassment," Galadriel replied.

We smiled at each other, sharing between ourselves the understanding of many things. She gripped my shoulder tightly before releasing me, and I nodded towards Forfirith.

"May the Valar strengthen you, Amorith…"