Heeeeeeeyyyy *slides into frame* I'm back. Again. This is the last chapter before the new year, yet another that I've spent on this brain worm. Just a quick recommendation: I write this story in Times New Roman, so I would recommend y'all reading it in that font, so as to really get the vibe of the story. It's your viewing experience, though, so do what y'all like!

I hope you all enjoy! Don't forget to review! Be that one brave one.

A little broken, a little new.

We are the impact and the glue.

Capable of more than we know,

We call this fixer upper home.

"North"

Sleeping At Last

The sun was already lowering in the sky as the cart rolled to a stop near the center of the camp, and Chyann was sorry to see it go. The sky was bursting with colors she hadn't seen in weeks; oranges brighter than her hair, purples and pinks softer than spring flowers. A deep gash of red filled the sky, and as she looked, Legolas was beside the cart, offering a hand down. "For the blood that has been spilled," he nodded to the clouds. Chyann, though she didn't need it, accepted his help and hopped from the cart

"What it that?" he frowned at the lump that was Thráin resting beneath the blankets. Megan replied, brusquely, "Who is that," and she climbed down beside Chyann on shaky legs. Legolas made as if to reach and draw the blankets back, but Chyann gently grasped his wrist. "Don't," she said. "He's resting for the first time in a long while." Legolas was visibly puzzled, but Megan set about distracting him immediately

"You seen Beorn?" Megan looked around, and Legolas was speaking to her, but Chyann stopped paying attention. The Lorien Elves who had found her in the woods were standing off to the far side of the center, and they weren't alone. Other Elves dressed just like them were speaking with Haldir, whose eyes she met. He nodded, and she nodded back. She saw the Elves he was standing with look back at her, and she frowned and looked back at her sister, who sat beside Thráin's sleeping body, and was keeping him asleep.

We need to go, Chyann thought out to her sister, and Cici nodded. Chyann leaned back against the edge of the cart and watched as more and more Elves began trickling into the camp, dressed in silver armor and grey cloaks that shifted colors as they moved, and Chyann had to blink to focus her vision on them.

The Mirkwood Elves exclaimed joyously as their Lorien kin mingled with them, and quickly more tents were being pitched, and the wounded were being transferred. More carts of supplies wound their way into the camp, and food and rations were passed around. The Elves in armor joined the Mirkwood guards at the perimeters of camp, and Chyann worried her teeth against her bottom lip.

This many Elves was going to make it even harder to slip away with Thráin unnoticed. There was only so long they could disguise their passenger; the last thing they wanted was for him to wake up surrounded by two kingdoms of Elves and flip his shit. She briefly longed for the time when the four of them were shuttled around in the back passages of the Palace, as unseen as they were named to be.

Chyann hopped onto the back of the cart as it rattled towards their sleeping quarters, and she caught sight of Tauriel emerging from a Healer's tent. Chyann raised her hand, and Tauriel loped over. "You're looking better," Chyann said, but Tauriel did not smile.

"Where did you go," she demanded, "I heard you were taken back to the fortress?"

"Yeah," Chyann admitted. It was going to be impossible to keep anything from Tauriel, as she was their personal guard, and she invited Tauriel to sit beside her with a pat of her hand on the boards the cart. Tauriel shook her head, though. "I will walk."

She stared hard at the lump of Thráin. "Is that Megan under there?" she trailed off as she noticed the movement of breath under the blanket. "No."

"No," Chyann agreed, and looked around, and there were too many Elves nearby to talk freely. Chyann knew the cat would be out of the bag soon, but she would rather avoid as many questions as possible. It was funny; after trying so hard for so long to be some hyper-visible symbol to the Elves, Chyann was ready to close the curtains around the Unseen and be, well, unseen again.

But it wasn't for her sake, or even her sisters'. Thráin deserved rest and peace and privacy and healing; he would not be getting that if the Elves were breathing down the Unseen's collective neck.

As Alyx had given her the rundown of the situation, Chyann had internally bubbled with fury at the idea of Thranduil politically exploiting someone in so much pain. Alyx had sworn, though, that he was placing the wounded Dwarf into their care, and that they were now responsible for him. Thranduil would not be using anyone to his advantage, anymore.

"How the fuck did you get him to agree to that?" Chyann remembered asking, and Alyx shrugged. "Oh, you know: Logic, some puppy dog eyes...a little magic. The works."

"Damn," said Chyann, who knew better than her friend why Thranduil was becoming a bit of a sap, "you really got him wrapped around your finger."

"I guess," she said, and then they had arrived to help Chardonnay and Megan before Thráin clawed their throats out.

Subduing him had been rather easy, though. With Chyann there, exuding power and authority and blocking any exit he may have taken, Thráin had hissed and made as if to retreat, but Megan, the sneakiest of the bunch, was able to work her own magic on him.

"Remember who you are," Megan's eyes glowed with the depths of the ocean of memories. "Durin's heir, father of three; come home." Beside her, Alyx held out her hands and cast her own spell around the Dwarf. "Begone the bane, begone the Dark. Shadows of Sauron, I command depart!"

Chyann could tell that the Shadows were clinging to Thráin stubbornly, but after a few more moments the two brunette Unseen were able to get close enough to touch him, and Thráin sagged as the Shadows were burned away.

Chardonnay rushed forward and enfolded the old Dwarf in a blanket. "He's so thin," Cici muttered, and she closed her eyes to concentrate on pouring healing power into him. The other two joined her and kept their hands on him like it was some Pentecostal service, while Chyann felt a little useless just standing there. She had done her job (sort of), so she shuffled her feet and turned around to leave.

"Chyann," Chardonnay called, and Chyann perked her head up. "Come here. He needs all the help he can get. Help us warm him up."

Chyann had only really used her power to hurt her enemies; with Mellianor her effort had been to just keep her alive, not actually heal her, and Thráin was way worse off than Mellianor had been. Chyann wrung her hands. "I'll try," she said, and sat and took up Thráin's thin hand in her own.

He was cold, and so hungry and in pain that Chyann nearly started crying like Megan and Alyx. But she sucked in her tears and tried to think strength, and letting her red-hot power fill him, and to not hurt him. She adjusted shakily, at first, and nearly stopped when Thráin seemed in pain, but Chardonnay gently redirected her, and Chyann found the right balance of what to give him.

GraduallyThráin became stable, and with her sisters, Chyann felt her powers help him. She was able to do things even Chardonnay's couldn't: she could remind the old Dwarf how strong he had once been, and to grip her hand tight, like he had once held his weapons.

"We have to take care of him ourselves," Alyx was telling the others, softly. "Somewhere away from Elves."

Megan nodded. "He still remembers when Thranduil abandoned them to the Dragon. He hates the Elves of Mirkwood almost as much as he hates Orcs."

"Geez," muttered Chardonnay. "That's harsh."

"We need to keep them separate," Alyx said, "so that way he'll trust us a little better."

"Where can we go?" Chardonnay asked. "I wanted to go home..." Chyann was surprised to hear Chardonnay call the Palace home. Just hours ago, it seemed, she was reluctant to return to life, let alone live with the Elves. But what other home was there for them, now?

"We can take shifts," Alyx suggested. "A couple of us could stay with him, help him out, and we can commute back to stay with the Elves for a bit, get supplies, and recharge."

"That's dumb," Megan said. "If you said we're taking care of him, we're all in this together."

"And it shows, where we stand, hand in hand, makes our dreams come truuuuueee," Chyann warbled, and they all giggled despite the circumstances.

Chyann brought herself back to the present and looked sadly at Tauriel. She opened her mouth to tell her that the Unseen may have to leave Mirkwood, but Chardonnay, probably reading her mind with their new-found connection, cut her off. "How are they doing in there?" Chardonnay asked, meaning the Healers, and yet again an Elf was distracted from looking further into the lump of Thráin.

Chyann crossed her arms under her breast and felt a lump of anxiety build in her throat. What had they gotten into, this time? The more she thought about it, the crazier it seemed. Four teenagers, magically-imbued or not, were going to be responsible for rehabilitating a traumatized geriatric Dwarf, and they had to do it outside of King Thranduil's protection, as far as she knew. Well, she thought, we've basically been doing that since we got here... But it had been awful.

The Battle Under the Solstice had nearly been lost before the King came with his army, and she remembered the biting cold, the hunger, the pain of being Morien's captive. She fingered the fine fabric that made up her post-lunch outfit: long green sleeved tunic over even softer pants, embroidered with twining knots of leaves in thread-of-gold. Her cloak was a deeper green that retained her body warmth perfectly. She was warm and full, and she and her sisters were safe. That had only come when Thranduil came to help, finally.

Chyann looked again at Thráin, though, and sighed. This wasn't about her anymore, though, or even about the Unseen. This was about doing what the Valar had sent them to do: be heroes. To heal, to help. Maybe they can help us build a house, Chyann thought, outside the woods and away from the Elves. But who knew how long that would take?

She wondered if it might just be a better idea to bring Thráin sooner rather than later back to his family. She knew the Iron Hills were comparatively close at hand, and Megan had mentioned something about the Blue Mountains. Geography wasn't her strong suit, but even Chyann knew that was much further away.

She glanced over at her big sister and knew to bring it up later. The cart was nearing their new sleeping quarters, and Chyann prepared to disembark. She noticed many Elves, mostly females with pin-straight hair, were waiting to serve Chyann and Chardonnay, yet another luxury given to them by King Thranduil. Many were approaching the cart and bowing, and Chyann felt herself tense up.

Chyann said, "Tauriel, can you make everyone leave the general area for a bit?"

Tauriel frowned. "What is the matter?"

"No questions right this second, please," Chyann begged, "Just have them come back later?"

Tauriel frowned, again, but did as Chyann asked and spoke in rapid Silvan to their little entourage. A look of understanding came over most of their faces, instead of suspicion or anger, and most quickly flowed around the cart back towards the center of the camp with soft smiles at the two Unseen.

Chyann's Sindarin was rusty, and she asked what Tauriel had said.

"I told them that you wish to be alone, and to get themselves settled into the camp and help welcome the Elves of Lothlorien." Tauriel blushed a little as she looked back towards where they had come. "Those brothers are quite handsome."

Chyann felt a mischievous smile tug at her lips, and Tauriel blinked and straightened her back. "Not that it matters. I am dedicated to my duties and to the Woodland Realm, and besides..." she trailed off. Her eyes studied her shoes when she spoke next. "What would any Sindarin Elf want with a lowly Silvan guard, anyways?"

Even Chardonnay, who was focused on keeping Thráin asleep, was taken aback. "What? Tauriel, you are gorgeous! Anyone would be lucky to have you!"

"Yeah!" Chyann said as she jumped off the back of the cart. "And if they're too snobbish about being Sindarin or whatever, that's their loss. You're one of the prettiest, strongest Elves in Mirkwood! Except for Thranduil. He's prettier than you, sorry."

Tauriel burst out laughing so suddenly even she seemed surprised. Her sad look remained, though, at the very back of her bright eyes. Geez, only I'm cheering everyone up halfway, aren't I? Chyann wrapped Tauriel in her arms and buried her face in the leather plate covering her chest. "We love you, Tauriel. We wouldn't be us without you. And honestly," Chyann looked over to her sister to let her know that Tauriel was about to be in the know about Thráin, "we need you now more than ever."

Chardonnay, after checking that the coast was clear with her eyes and powers, pulled back the blanket to reveal their new project. "We need to get out of Mirkwood; he can't stay with the Elves."

Tauriel stared hard at Thráin before closing her eyes. "Is there no other way? I am sure Our King will host him in honor."

"No," said Chyann, "Too much bad blood. We need to avoid war, and to help Thráin."

The distaste melted off her face as pity replaced it. She looked between Chyann and Chardonnay and sighed. "Very well," she said. "Tell me what you need, my friends."

Megan

Beorn was a distance out of the camp when she found him. He was whittling a wooden figure with a knife that would have be a dagger in Megan's hands, but seemed miniature in his. Legolas fell away from her and remained a distance away while Megan approached her new friend.

"Hey," she called, and Beorn looked up that the sound of his voice. His animal-human eyes bore into her face silently, and even Megan, who reveled in awkwardness, was uncomfortable. He sighed and shook his head before placing the figure into his lap.

"What is it?" Megan asked softly as she approached. She sat beside him on the log he also perched on. She felt a wood shaving stick into her butt, yet she remained still. Beorn finally spoke with that rasping bass. "I had just begun to accept that you and your kin were dead. But you returned. I watched you eat. I watched you walk and speak. What I do is a magic, you understand, child, but it does not defy the laws of life and death."

Megan shrugged. "Being dead was weird," she admitted. "Coming back to life hurt. And I'm still super tired. Are you scared of me?" she looked up high into his face, with that broad nose and wild eyebrows and kind eyes that always seemed on the brink of tears or rage.

"No, child, I do not fear you," Beorn replied. "I fear your destiny. It is beyond my comprehension, and I am not eager to venture into what I do not understand."

"We need your help, though," Megan said, and she felt her eyes widen. "I know you're not sure what it means for us to be the Unseen, and maybe we don't really know ourselves, yet, but we do know a few things: we need to beat Sauron, kill Orcs, and help people. But we can't do it completely by ourselves, yet."

"What do you mean?"

"We found Thráin," Megan said, and she watched carefully as suspicion grew in his face. "A Dwarf," Beorn scoffed. She could tell he wasn't keen on them. "They are a greedy people. Stubborn and blind to lives they deem lesser than their own. You should not trust him."

"It's not about trust, it's about helping him. He's been Sauron's prisoner for I'm not even sure how long," Megan shook her head. "They tortured him. The Unseen can help him, but we need somewhere to keep him."

Beorn sighed heavily. "And the bitterness between the Dwarves and Elves means that dwelling in the King's Halls are out of the question."

"Exactly." Megan begged with her eyes, and Beorn stared steadily back. "I understand the pain he has experienced," Beorn sighed. "Very well, child, stop looking at me like that. He may take refuge with me. But know this: I do not want a Dwarvish host banging upon my door and trampling my garden," he warned. "Nor can he stay forever. And you four say you shall help him? Very well."

Megan gasped and glomped Beorn with all her pitiful strength. "Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you! I knew you would come through."

"I simply want company for the last months of winter," he grumbled, and ruffled Megan's hair. "You four will have to work to earn your keep, though, with more mouths to feed. My house is no palace. There are animals to care for, and bees to keep. Thráin, royalty or not, will also help."

Megan help up her hands. "Hey, as long as we're out of the wind, I'm happy. I'm not picky, and I'm sure anywhere will be a step up from Dol Guldur."

Beorn's eyes glowed with warmth. "My house is my refuge. I find peace in tending my livestock and making my goods. Whether it will be the same for Thráin as it was for me, I cannot say. But I can say that the sooner his kin come for him, the better. That he does still have a family, I envy him."

Megan frowned sympathetically and leaned her head against his shoulder. His memories flowed across her mind's eye: a mother tall and proud, and a father stronger than even Beorn roaring into the night. All his cousins, all his friends, dead as doornails.

Megan said, "I'm sorry."

"There is nothing for you to be sorry about, child. What's done is done. All we can do is make sure those hurt us face our fury, when the time is right."

Megan smiled at that. "Sounds good. Come on back to our side of camp; we need to hammer out the details."

Bard

There were more Pointy-Ears around him than he ever conceived existing. A few shot him curious glances or else ignored him altogether as they flowed about their duties. Bard worried if the new arrivals would delay his departure back home and looked around for any familiar faces which to ask. So many Elves blended together in his eyes, and he did not see the girls or the Wizard anywhere. He did not think to seek for the King and bother him with more questions.

But Bard reasoned thus, and calmed himself, that the Battle had just been won, and the hundreds of wounded were being treated. He had faith, also, that word was on its way to the Palace, and supplies would be sent soon to his town. He longed for his children, though, and his own hearth.

At the thought of sleep, he looked about himself and noticed that dusk was falling swiftly over the camp. He did not remember where it was that he was to rest for the night. As he gaped around himself like some lost duckling, a Mirkwood Elf, clad in dun greens and bronze plate, apparently took pity on him and approached with a slight limp. A wide bruise was darkening on slim cheeks, and it seemed to Bard that this Elf was younger than most. "You're that Man who was rescued from the fortress," said the Elf by way of greeting. "I suppose I am," Bard nodded. "And you're that Elf with a shiner."

The Elf-boy smiled suddenly and laughed. "You have already met my cousin, Angambar. He told me about you. Thank you for helping Far-Seer. She's a dear friend."

"She helped me more, I think," Bard shook his head, but the Elf only shrugged and looked off to where wagons of supplies led by fair-haired Elves were being led into camp. "I am Avrith," said the Elf, and reached out his forearm to clasp with Bard's, who accepted it. The lad's grip was strong, for looking so lanky, and Bard was reminded of his own son's growth over the past year.

"You look lost," Avrith remarked, and they fell into step out of the way of the main path. Bard sighed. "I know not where I'm to go to get some rest," he admitted. "All the new additions to the camp do not help."

Avrith nodded. "I have not seen so many Lorien Elves in all my life. Aren't they a wonder?" he sighed as the 'Lorien' Elves flowed by, apparently as blind to Avrith as they were to Bard as they went about their business. Indeed, they were beautiful and elegant, but colder than the Mirkwood Elves Bard had come to know. They seemed to only have one foot in this world, as though they would fade from sight as soon as one sighed too hard in their direction. Bard shrugged. "Aye, they are."

Avrith regarded him again. "You know, I am unsure of where they meant to put you—it is above my paygrade, as you Laketown folk say. Perhaps closer to the Unseen?" Bard didn't know why Avrith would figure that, except for the fact that he too was human. If those four even are human, Bard thought to himself as Avrith peeled away to speak with a silver-armored Mirkwood Lieutenant. Not that it truly matters. They are good people, and that is enough.

Avrith returned. "Come, friend. You will be with the soldiers tonight; the Unseen have requested to be alone tonight. I can imagine why," he looked away, and then shook his head as though to dispel dark thoughts.

Bard shrugged. He did not think they would put a grown man amongst young women, anyways, and he was glad of it. They were all his daughter's age. He decided to ask Avrith more of his burning questions, now that he had found a friendly guide.

"Do you know when we may depart back North?"

Avrith frowned in thought. "No more than a week, I should say. It will take time to travel back, though. We do not want to leave our wounded behind. I understand you have been away from Laketown for quite some time?"

"Yes," Bard rasped. "I have been too long away from my children."

Avrith smiled. "How many, my friend?"

"A boy and two girls. My eldest is of an age of those girls."

"The Unseen," the young Elf nodded. "I met Chyann first. She had gotten herself into a spot of trouble, and I was her gaoler."

"Really?" Bard was surprised. The four girls were so worshipped by the Elves it was difficult to think of them doing any sort of wrong enough to warrant punishment. But Avrith chuckled, and Bard could hear the potential for a deeper voice therein. "Yes. It was with Morien, actually. He attempted to sneak on Lady Far-Seer in a bath, and Chyann punched him. She later escaped parole, and she led the Battle Under the Solstic." He rolled his eyes. "That they all went to trial was ridiculous."

"Trial?"

"Oh, yes," Avrith nodded. "Trial. The Unseen won, though, but that was before...all of this." He gestured out to the forest and Dol Guldur. "You might say it was the cause. But who can say? Morien was rotten to the core even then." A deep hate passed over his features. Bard asked, "Will they decide what to do with him here, or will he be escorted back north?" With us, Bard almost added, but even the idea of travelling alongside that piece of filth was abhorrent.

His companion shook his head. "I hope not," he said quietly. "I want this to be over. I want to return home with my friends and forget the horror of what happened here. I was there," Avrith pointed to the broken towers smudged with fire-stains. "I was there when the Unseen died. I helped bear Chyann out from here. I have been by their side since the beginning, but I have been able to do nothing to help them. I want to forget that," Avrith nodded. "And I want to be useful. I want to help."

Bard nodded. "I am sure you will." He clasped the lad's shoulder, even though Avrith was likely far older than Bard. Cookfires were springing up around the camp, and the smell of good food and wine filled the air. Singing was raised around them, too, and they paused to listen.

The Lorien Elves were joined by those of Mirkwood, and as the sound washed over them, Bard felt a tear come to his eye, though he did not understand what was being sung, and he blinked it away. Avrith was the more open sort. He wiped the tears with a long hand and said quietly, so as to not disturb those singing the lament, "Come, let up go find a fire, and get you settled for the night. Perhaps we will see my cousin soon."

Alyx

At first she thought she had gone crazy; the power slowly approaching from the woods, alone and on foot, was as pure and strong as that of the stars, and Alyx knew it was calling to the Unseen, though she seemed to be the only one her heard it. The others were too focused on helping Thráin. Alyx looked at her little sister and silently communicated for her to head to camp and talk to Beorn, and Megan, though still on the nauseous side, agreed. She was settling, though, Alyx was relieved to see.

So soon after returning to Life they had exercised their powers in ways they simply hadn't had to chance to, before. And while they certainly hit their limit, Alyx could tell there was almost infinite room for improvement.

Gandalf, like her, was also being called. When he noticed the look on her face, the old man nodded and sent the cart off, and they together approached the tree line.

Through the dark and diseased branches, she came to the ruined fortress still crawling with Shadows. Alyx felt herself shake at the vibrations that exuded from this most powerful Elf Queen, and Gandalf placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her. He bowed his head, and she knew she was supposed to do the same, but Alyx simply couldn't bestir herself to look away from the figure surrounded by white light.

The Lady was golden haired and tall, as slender as a bough of willow. She was enshrouded with white lace, pale-skinned, and blue eyes as clear as water under the sun watched Alyx carefully, weighing her, Seeing into her, and Alyx had the odd sensation of what others must have felt like when she turned her powers on them.

Awe filled Alyxandra Karsons in a way that only the Valar could, and she understood then that this Elf Queen, if she had so chosen, could have smote the shit out of Sauron. At the thought of it, Alyx remember Miriel, and smiled sadly. Both had been worthy rivals of each other, even if one had gone beyond the land of the Living. Hell, that makes Miriel even cooler.

A foreign presence brushed against her mind. There was no malice, like Sauron, so, cautiously, Alyx allowed Galadriel to speak in her mind.

I have wondered at great length about you, child. The voice was ancient, older than Thranduil, and within it was the wisdom of ages. I saw that you are four, and watched the shadows stealing about you. I could sense your lights be snuffed out. And yet you have returned...

At last she emerged from the dark woods, and Gandalf raised his head. "My Lady. It has been too long."

"Mithrandir," her speaking voice was just as pretty as the one in her mind.

"It is an honor to have you here, with us, my Lady," Gandalf said, the smooth old coot, and he placed a hand on Alyx shoulders again. "Allow me to introduce Lady-," Alyx cut him off, embarrassed to introduced as someone high-ranking to the genuine article of divinity before her. "I'm no Lady. I'm not, really."

"You are so young..." The Lady Galadriel said, "But Lady you are. It is in your bearing. Tell me your name, child, as you would have it."

"My name is Alyx," she said, swallowing, but drew herself up. "Alyx of the Unseen. Counselor to the Elvenking."

"I see much suffering behind you," the Lady said, tilting her head ever so slightly down to Alyx, as she was so tall. Her eyes scanned Alyx from the ends of her shortened hair to the tip of her winter boots. "I see fear, and pain, and death. But I also see the fire within you, and the love and hope that carried you home with your brethren. I see you have earned a place for yourself here, and won perhaps something greater, still." She reached out as if to touch Alyx, who tilted her head in askance, but Galadriel had looked away up towards the height of the broken towers. Alyx couldn't tear her eyes away from the Lady's face, and blurted out, "Miriel always respected you. Even in death."

That got her attention. Alyx went on. "She was here, in Mirkwood, all this time. She won her fight against Sauron; she banished him to the east." The thought of Miriel brought a tear to her eye. "We didn't really do anything, here. We just got killed. Miriel is the one who saved us all."

"You saw her," Galadriel said softly, and she smiled softly. "You did."

"Yeah, said Alyx, who sensed that Thranduil was approaching. "We might need your help," Alyx said, and showed her Thráin in her mind, how he needed help. "By the stars," Galadriel whispered. "He lives." She looked at Gandalf, who set his mouth at whatever message she sent to him.

You tread a dangerous path, she whispered to Alyx. Beware the fury of the Dwarves. They will die for their own.

Alyx replied as Thranduil emerged from the fortress, I know.

I do not doubt that you know much, Galadriel fixed her with a firm stare. But you do not know everything.

Alyx flinched as she recalled the death of her friends, while Thranduil bowed to the Lady with a hand over his heart. "Lady Galadriel. It has been an age since you have graced these woodlands. I only wish it were in happier times. Thank you for bringing aid."

"Oropherion," she greeted. "Long it has been, it is true. Tell me," she looked back at Alyx, "where are the others?"

"They're preparing back in camp," Alyx said. "My sisters are probably going to rest for a bit, before we head out." She looked at Thranduil, "She knows."

"Where will you go?" he asked, and Alyx could sense his resignation, and wistfulness, at the fact that the Unseen were leaving.

"Megan is asking Beorn."

"Is that wise?" Gandalf frowned. "Beorn is not overly fond of Dwarves."

"What's the worst that could happen? He says no, and then we'll ask Radagast."

Gandalf was taken aback. "He would never agree. He is more the solitary type."

"So, let's hope Beorn says yes, then." Alyx laughed.

"Must you truly go?" Thranduil asked. "Mine halls will treat him with honor. And you will be more comfortable."

"No," Alyx shook her head, frowning. She noticed he only questioned her with another Elven lady there, as if she would somehow change her answer to avoid offending Galadriel "No Elves. Maybe Tauriel, if she wants to come, but being clear of Mirkwood will help the Dwarves feel more comfortable with the Unseen. We can introduce that relationship gradually." Gandalf was mildly impressed with her gall, and Alyx hurriedly added to the Lady, "You know, not that they wouldn't love you if they met you, my Lady, but you?" She winced at Thranduil, who only narrowed his eyes minutely at her. She smiled, to let him know she was just kidding, and Gandalf pounced on the empty space in conversation while Galadriel watched the Elvenking carefully.

"I will leave at first light to send for Thorin; the last I heard, he was headed to the Blue Mountains to speak with his kin."

Alyx sighed. This was moving along so quickly. "How long until you can return with him? Thráin's missed his son; it's been one of the few things that's kept him alive." That and spite, Alyx acknowledged. It was hardly a healthy coping mechanism, but then again, who was she to judge?

Gandalf murmured to himself as he calculated. "Weather permitting, and we are not beset by enemies, I should say perhaps four months. Less, if we have reliable horses along the way." He glanced at Lady Galadriel, who gave him a small smile. Alyx could tell those two were like peas and carrots, and they made a very good team.

"You will have whatever you need for you journey, Mithrandir," Thranduil interjected. Alyx was surprised at his generosity, but she supposed he wanted the Unseen back in Mirkwood ASAP and was willing to empty his stables if he had to. "My Lady Galadriel, if you would care to join me for dinner, I would be most honored."

"I would," she said, and as they set off Alyx let herself fall back from those ranked so high above her. She started wistfully at the two; so golden, and silver, and tall and beautiful. They were perfection embodied in two immortals, and what was she? A skinny human, not much more than a kid, with an ugly haircut and an attitude. She looked for Gandalf, but he, too, had joined them, and together they looked out over the joint camp of Lothlorien and Mirkwood.

Alyx looked back up towards the fortress, trying to look for what had given her bravery and strength to stand up against evil, but it only reminded of her greatest failures. The Unseen had been nigh useless to the fight; they had not beaten Sauron, and they had not taken on the Army of Darkness. They had lost.

Alyx sighed, and a bitter touch of cold had returned to the air as the sun finally sank behind the skeletal tree line. She turned away from Dol Guldur, all the while wishing to tear it apart and drown it in fire. With heavy feet, she made her way to follow the others, even though she feared she would be blinded by them.

Thranduil had waited for her, she saw. Gandalf had continued, walking side-by-side with the Lady, and Alyx could sense she preferred it that way. Mutely, Thranduil held out his hand to her, but she ignored it and leaned into his chest instead. It was darkening; no one likely saw them, and she was glad. She didn't want anyone to see Far-Seer be vulnerable, but Alyx was only human, and she could hear the comforting beat of his heart.

He was surprised, she sensed, but deep happiness exploded in him. His hand came around and brushed down her short hair. The motion reminded her strongly of her mother, and Alyx wanted to cry. "What is it?"

"I want to go home," she whispered against his shirt. "But I can't. I need to finish what I've started. We need to see it through. But I'm tired," she squeezed her eyes shut. "And I'm afraid to fail again."

"You did not fail," Thranduil tilted her chin up. Compassion filled his eyes, and something else was laying behind them, although she couldn't tell what it was. Thranduil was too skilled at keeping himself in check. She looked away. He continued. "You did what I could never do. All of you did." He gave her a small smile. "My halls will always welcome you and your sisters."

"I'm proud of you, you know," she looked up at him, and smiled. "You didn't let this get in the way." She reached up and touched his temple and blushed in the dim light. "You have been very flexible."

He reached up and twined her fingers with his. His hand was warm against her cold fingers, and he held their hands together between them, warming her. Something trembled in the air between them, and Alyx inhaled shakily as she raised her eyes to look up at him. Thranduil's gaze grew increasingly intense and yet immeasurable soft. She felt like she was on the edge of some great lake, no, sea, but the lights were gone, and she could not see what it was inside. She didn't fear it, per se, but she sensed if she dove in, she would be carried away and lose the path she was meant for. She would be replacing her own burden, one shared with her sisters, with one not quite so heavy, and perhaps more delicious, but nonetheless a weighty one, and one she would bear alone. She longed for that second burden.

She wanted so badly to be selfish, to let herself enjoy something, but she wondered if she would have tolerated it if one of her fellow Unseen chose what she so wanted right then, and she looked away from Thranduil. No, she knew she would not be okay with it. The Unseen no longer belonged to just themselves-she could not give away the heart that belonged to those it was meant to help.

She chose duty.

And so, even though she had been the one to lean against him seeking comfort, she stepped back. Alyx swallowed her own ocean as she turned from that depthless sea being offered to her so willingly. She wondered if it was love and scoffed. As if he would love a child. But what else would it have been? Guilt, perhaps, and n small amount of compassion, an offer of comfort and protection for her and her sisters' services to the Woodland Realm, she figured. The idea of love was a bit ruined for her for the time being.

"It's getting late," Alyx said, and cleared her throat. "We have to get ready."

Something in him noticed her change, and it was as though he drew all the tides of his heart back into him and was ashamed of himself. She worried about him, and wanted to say, No, it's alright, it's not your fault, I'm just a mess.

"Come, then. You must be hungry." He did not release her hand, though, and Alyx could sense a promise there. A promise of what, she could not sense, and she squeezed his hand with a tight smile. "Very," she laughed. It sounded hollow. "I could eat a horse."

Thranduil looked up and whistled a high note, and Taurhir came out from around the fortress. With his hands Thranduil wordlessly asked to lift her up onto the saddle, and she nodded just as silently. His hands were so long, and her waist so thin from genetics and captivity that she could feel his fingers meet. Swiftly she was lifted and set in the saddle, but this time he did not join her. He strode alongside the great elk with his hand guiding the reins, and as they entered the camp, she could hear the whispers of the Elves. She saw Bard, then. The Man was staring at her, and she waved at him with what she hoped was a mature smile. Avrith, who stood beside him, returned the gesture, but Bard did not raise his hand. He only stared hard at her, as though looking for something.

She wondered what it was that he was searching for, and if he found it.

The King's tent was always the largest and one of the first pitched whilst on campaign. Inside she could see his armor on a stand, and the table of his maps pushed against the westernmost wall to make room for the long table. Wine, roasted rabbit, dark winter greens and thinly cut venison graced the table. Her stomach rumbled.

The guards in front of the entrance fell away, and Alyx prepared to slide off as quickly as possible, but Thranduil was ready this time. She was embarrassed, really, but couldn't find it in herself to deny Thranduil as he assisted her down from Taurhir in full view of his pavilion and captains. Galadriel stood in the entrance, hands clasped gracefully before herself, watching them.

Alyx wondered at her; Galadriel seemed to have it all: the strength, the beauty, the marriage.

But inside her, deep, was the longing for release into the West. Alyx regarded the Elf queen sadly. As yet, she was still adamant, but Galadriel was tired-and she was alone, even for being in love. She truly had no peer on this side of the sea, and maybe not even on the other side, and that was a lonely pedestal to be placed on.

Alyx remembered, then, what had kept her strong while in Dol Guldur. It was not the great evil against which to throw herself, or her vicious hatred for Morien, or her budding love for Thranduil (though it did play a small role). It was her friends. Alyx didn't see them in the tent; they must have been with the old Dwarf, and she decided what was where she belonged.

She looked up at Thranduil. "I'll have to pass on dinner with you all tonight."

"Is there anything wrong? You need not worry about the Lady Galadriel," Thranduil seemed diminished even in the golden light pouring from his tent. He reminded her of a wilting flower, and guilt gripped her heart. Taurhir cast them both in his shadow and concealed their conversation from his Lieutenants. "...Can I give you nothing?"

She smiled as comfortingly as possible, like he was some wounded creature. "I just need to be with my family," she said, and touched his arm. "You've already given me so much, Thranduil. We'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

He nodded deeply to her, almost bowing, and she departed from Taurhir with her cheeks feeling four shades too warm even in the cold air. Elves were staring at her, incredulous that she would be escorted right to the King's quarters and depart immediately. Behind her, she could feel Lady Galadriel's eyes burning into her back, and Alyx turned and walked backwards, silently communicated her new resolve to the Elf Queen as she waved to them.

Galadriel made no outward indication that she heard Alyx, but raised her hand, and Alyx could see a bright silver glimmer on her finger. At last it faded, and Alyx followed the trail of her friends back to their tents on the furthermost reaches of the camp, eager to be with her peers and hammer out the details of the latest plot of the Unseen.

When she arrived, there was a fire already crackling high, with hot stew positively stuffed with carrots and meat and herbs. Alyx saw that Megan was asleep on Tauriel's lap as they sat beside the fire. Chyann was already asleep in her own tent. Chardonnay was the only one awake and free to come to her. She put down her mug down, and Alyx smiled as she came close. But as Chardonnay searched her face, Alyx felt her facade crack a little. Tauriel caught her eye and lifted Megan away into a tent and stayed there.

"What is it?" Chardonnay asked. Alyx and Chard were often at opposite ends of the spectrum on many things, and she felt closer to Chyann and Megan. But now, Alyx felt tears well in her eyes, and Chardonnay opened her arms immediately, and Alyx leaned in, again seeking comfort for the third time that day. She felt pathetic.

Words didn't come, but Alyx showed her how Thranduil had looked as she left, and guilt and longing poured through her. Chardonnay sighed as Alyx sniffled. "Oh my God, girl. It's just a little crush. It'll go away."

"I'm not sure," Alyx scrubbed her face with the heel of her hand. "I love him. But we have to leave."

Chardonnay nodded. "Well, Beorn will let us stay with him."

"Good," said Alyx as they sat beside the fire. Chardonnay handed her a bowl and served her some soup from a long ladle. Alyx thanked her. "Gandalf is going to leave tomorrow to go get Thorin. We have four months to take care of him, give or take. In the meantime, Ertharom will be on these shores by then, and we'll find him later. He'll be looking for a new place for us."

"I really miss the palace," Char sighed, and Alyx nodded into her soup. "Me, too. I miss our room. I miss Galdor."

"He looked pretty okay in Mandos," Chardonnay remarked, and Alyx agreed. "Everything is going to change so quickly," Alyx shuddered, and scooted closer to the fire. "Let's leave with the Lorien party. We can hide Thráin with our luggage and make all the Elves here think we're going to Lothlorien on a vacation, or something. That way they won't look for us."

Chardonnay thinned her mouth. "That might take too long. Thráin needs to get out of the forest as soon as possible. It's stunting his healing."

"Could we send him first? With Beorn? Maybe go with Radagast?"

"I haven't seen Radagast in a while," Chardonnay said, "Maybe he could go with Gandalf?"

"That could work," Alyx nodded into the fire. "He trusts Gandalf. Is he awake?"

"No," Char nodded off to another small tent. "He's catching up on a few weeks of sleep over there. I don't think Dol Guldur was a very good place to nap."

Alyx shook her head. "You have no idea..."

"What about Morien?" Chardonnay asked suddenly, and Alyx jumped. "What about him?"

"We can't just leave him in Thranduil's hands. He's ours." Chardonnay's hands clenched into fists. "I don't like having him still alive. He should have died when I dumped all that poison in him. Can't believe he's still alive," she muttered, and Alyx chuckled darkly. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Miriel threw his ass off the highest tower, too. I guess he used magic to cushion his fall."

"We couldn't beat his Shadows," Chardonnay said, and Alyx nodded, again. "I was thinking about that, earlier. We need to get stronger."

Chardonnay huffed. "How can we do it? We've come so far, but it's not enough!"

"Babe," Alyx said. "We've only been here about four months. We've done some amazing things. There's not going to be another showdown for a while, so we have time to figure that out." Alyx frowned. "We could learn more magic. Like, real, Elvish magic."

"From who, though? What Elf would teach us?"

"We could teach ourselves," Alyx said cautiously. "Maybe with the right books?"

"We are not taking Morien's books," Chardonnay shuddered. "Just think of nasty those must be."

"True," she sighed. "Let's figure it out in the morning."

Chardonnay frowned. "I want Morien dead before we leave."

Alyx thought about their enemy and knew whatever Morien was now was not the same who had caused them so much pain. Killing him now would accomplish nothing, except prevent Sauron from ever taking him over again. Killing him wouldn't undo anything that had been done to them or bring back those who had been killed. Now, for her own part, Alyx doubted Morien's death would even be satisfying. She wished he had not been cleansed by Miriel, that he had remained Dark and broken. Then there would be some sweet taste of revenge as they put him down.

Put him down. Yes, that was what they would doing. Morien was broken beyond repair, an animal in pain, a shell whose crab had been burned away in the sun. He longed for death and punishment, just like Alyx had, and it would be a kindness to have him die.

Still, Thranduil was likely going to draw out Morien's sentence, especially with Galadriel there. Alyx knew, then, that Galadriel might influence the King to some other course for the former Dark Elf.

A vision swam in her mind, then, of Morien down on his knees before Galadriel, who would take him and set him off into the world, seeking redemption. Alyx could See that Galadriel would convince even Chyann of it, and the Unseen would watch as their tormentor was cast into the wild with only a pack on his back. His punishment would be to live with his guilt and seek atonement. His path disappeared before her eyes-such a possibility was slim but growing stronger every moment Galadriel was with Thranduil and heard of what had happened here.

It was the wise thing to do: Morien was not the same Elf he once was, it was true, and Galadriel was a kind ruler. She was powerful. But Morien's fate did not belong to her.

Alyx grit her teeth and looked at Chardonnay and shared her vision. Chardonnay, although bewildered at the vision, had the presence of mind to seethe. "She has no right to butt in, whether she's helping us or not. Tomorrow," Chardonnay swore, "we're finishing this."

This is a bad idea, Alyx thought, but fuck it.

"Deal." They shook on it and retreated into a free tent, and for the first time since they had awoken to life, Nienniel and Far-Seer slept.

Whelp, that's enough from me for now. Good googly moogly, that last bit almost went into the next chapter, but I think I'll save the machinations for next time.

And oooooh, looks like Alyx just cockblocked herself. Friendly reminder that Thranduil is very good at keeping himself in check, and Alyx is very much in denial right now, so she really doesn't realize that Thranduil loves her. For her, she associates 'love' with losing her freedom, and pain.

And Galadriel kind of scared me a little when I was a child, and so I wanted to communicate that wonder and not a little fear at Alyx's and Galadriel's first meeting. The Unseen really are starting to grow up, though, and are really starting top actively take on the mantle given to them by the Valar, and Eru.

Now go smash that review button!