Elrond sat on the bench in the garden, head in his hands. He had been trying to fake happiness for far too long, and now, he gave himself a welcome reprieve from that. He sat in one of the only patches of moonlight that fought its way through the branches of the trees. He had been sitting in the shadow, but the moon reminded him of all the evenings he spent with Celebrain strolling the gardens. It was the closest he could get to being with his wife, so he took it.

Thousands of times had he tried to come up with a way of telling his beloved that she would never see her little girl again, and quite possibly her two sons as well. How was he supposed to tell her something like that, after failing to heal her? After being the reason she had to sail and leave her children in the first place?

He wanted to be happy for Arwen, and Aragorn. But as the closer and closer they got to their wedding, he found it harder and harder to be happy. With every day it drew closer to his daughters inevitable end.

Which brought him to his next problem, should he stay in Middle Earth? Or sail? Of course he wanted to stay with his children, contrary to the belief that people seemed to have; just because they were adult didn't mean they didn't need him anymore. Aragorn would no be a king, and would no doubt need help, guidance, and support. Arwen was sure to become a mother, and would also need help.

But in his soul he could feel himself crumbling, too much had gone toO wrong in his long lifetime; and he feared that if he stayed in Middle Earth for now, he would never leave. Would never get to see Celebrain again.

Light footsteps alerted him to another presence in the garden. He raised his head from his hands, pushed his hair from his face and looked over.

Ava was slowly walking towards him, probably so there was enough time for him to hear her approaching and shoo her away if he so wanted. Her hair was out of the braids that normally restrained him, she wore short leggings and an undershirt that look suspiciously like Legolas' size. She wore no shoes on her feet, and being a wood elf would have made no sound while walking if she hadn't wanted to.

For a moment he contemplated asking her what woke her; but decided he probably wouldn't like the answer. If she gave him one at all.

"Its a little late to be sitting and brooding by yourself" She took a careful seat next to him on the bench "Isn't it?"

He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees, and glanced at her "Who say's I'm brooding?"

She smiled softly "You're always brooding Elrond" She brushed hair from her face and reached beside her to grasp something "Here, this for you" She thrust a steaming cup into his hands.

He glanced down at the tea in his hands. The tea smelled wonderful, with hints of honey and cinnamon in it. There was also an edible flower floating on top of it that was supposed to bring peace to troubled minds. It was the tea Celebrain used to make for him when was particularly troubled by something.

He glanced up shocked at the younger elf, "How did you.."

"You know Elrond, once people leave Middle Earth, weather by sailing or otherwise; they leave a mark. A memory. A lesson behind" She looked into his and he was surprised to find a look of suffering, pain, and wisdom not normally found in younger elves

"They leave the feeling of love, and happiness with those that remain. Those who leave never truly leave" Ava dropped her eyes again, her fingers tracing a scar on her leg that hadn't yet begun to fade with time "Your children know you love them, but they also know you're tired"

Carefully Elrond placed the cup beside him on the bench and turned to face Ava fully, and found words spilling from his mouth he had told on Glorfindel "What if something happens to them, and I'm not here to help. I just want to spare them the same pain that I've felt"

"You can't protect them forever, and no matter what you do they will get hurt. Its a fact of life" Elrond felt his eyes prickling with tears, his mind a range of emotions. He knew his children had been hurt, that he had not been able to stop it even though he had been here.

He turned away from her, faceing forward on the bench once more not wanting her to see his unshed tears.

He shuddered to think how quickly they had to grow up, compared to how it should have been. Along with the pain and suffering both Legoals and Ava had to endure, for unarguably all five of the young elves were far too wise and broken for their ages.

"Elrond I can't begin to imagine the pain you've suffer through. Go home" She leaned into his side and he wrapped one arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. "Go to Celebrain. You deserve to be nothing but death for you here"

...

It had been a very long few days. The elves had hardly spoken to one another, afraid to say or do anything that could change that air of tension into one of violence. As many of the Woodland elves knew, their kind was generally a very gentle person, even though he had quite the temper. He was only ever unreasonable when something or someone had harmed his loved ones. Now, they were petrified that perhaps Chalion wouldn't survive the trip.

Chalion of course being as stubborn as he was had tried constantly to get Thranduil to speak with him, no matter how many times Thranduil shot him down or simply ignored him. Or worst of all, when he glared.

However the raven haired elf had been quiet for some time now. As if contemplating his soul, before abruptly speaking

"Thranduil, what's she like?" Out of the corner of his eye Chalion watched as Thranduil pondered whether or not to answer the question "I know you will never approve of me again, but you're a father. Spare me the wonder of who my daughter has become"

Again the proud elf king said nothing "Did she become a healer like I wanted her to be?"

"No" It was a simply answer, one that filled Chalion with both hope and distaste. He always hoped that Ava would turn into a great healer one day, like Elrond. Apparently, Thranduil felt differently

"What does she do then? Smithing?"

"No. She's a warrior, a Captain" Thranduil finally answered slowly

"Does she still walk with the tree's every night?" Chalion hadn't spent much time with his tiny daughter before he left, but he always remembered her spending hours walking and talking with the tree's. As opposed to doing her lessons as she had been told.

"Not every night, no. But quite often"

"Is she a sweet and lively as I remember?" Encouraged by the responses, Chalion anxiously pressed for more details

"Probably not. She's older than you remember, and has lived through terrible hardships." Thranduil glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, gauging his reaction. He as thought he would find rage at the statement, concern, or even sorrow. All he found was an empty expression

"Such as?"

"Being abandoned by loved one's" With that Thranduil spurred his horse faster, effectively stopping any further conversation.