AN: Happy April everyone! I hope this finds you all safe and well during these days of isolation and worry. I myself am locked away in my home with just my hubby, Reisa and our baby girl. Our sweet little one is doing extremely well. She sleeps well at night, eats well and is actually generally a very happy creature for only being four weeks old...and she is one chubby sweetheart! You should see the fat rolls on her. lol. It's good. Means she is nice and healthy. Right now I am super thankful that I had my little girl when I did. We were out of the hospital before things really hit in Ontario, she is healthy and my husband is home to help me which is awesome considering I ended up having a c section in the end (failed induction, hella long painful labor...mildly traumatic...whoohoo!) All round I am recovering well, we have each other and I have a 'good' and 'easy' baby. With all the negativity in the world right now, I wanted to share something I am grateful for, and encourage you to do the same in the reviews. Let's support each other.

Chapter 19

"How is this even possible?"

Faervel's harsh voice broke the long silence that had hung in the room which Thranduil had discretely gathered his children. After managing to spirit the unconscious elleth who seemed for all the world to be his dead wife into his great halls and summoning Medlinor, Thranduil had swiftly found himself kicked out while the healer assessed his patient. The elf king had not been pleased and ended up needing the council of Glorfindel to keep his head and see reason.

She was unconscious. There was nothing he could do in that moment to help her, for while there was an unmistakable connection between who he had known to be Gwilithel and himself, it was still only a fragile connection and therefore of little use in helping the elleth now. Instead Glorfindel told him to gather his children and tell them of what he knew, keeping the news as quiet and hushed as possible until a later date. With so little information, it was unwise for the entire kingdom and their guests to have something to gossip about.

The image of her ran through Thranduil's mind. Her pale face, whiter than the sheets she lay beneath, the way her long dirty hair framed her unmistakable features and the reassuring way her chest rose and fell, her closed eyes, thin body. How he loathed to even let her out of his arms, let alone leave her side. Anger flickered through his bones again upon that thought, raging with confusion every second he was parted from her.

"Ada?"

Aewnith's faint, lost voice drew him back to the wide eyed, disbelieving faces of his children once more.

"I do not know." Thranduil sighed. "I do not have any answers for you, save that it appears that Gwilithel was your mother all a long...as impossible as it might be."

"How can we be certain it is her?" Faervel asked sharply, ever sceptical and unwilling to believe what he heard. "How do we know this is not a trick, or that she is merely a reincarnation of the elleth we knew as Cellissel? We all felt nanath die. We felt her bond with us shatter into a thousand pieces! This cannot be her!"

"I am not convinced that she is not." Legolas said quietly. "The connection I felt...the call of her soul to mine...the way she defended ada and I...and her hand in bringing him back from the brink of death...they are all too much of a coincidence to be insignificant."

"I felt a connection to her as well the first time I saw her." Aewnith breathed. "I thought I was going mad for a moment...dismissed it too quickly..."

"Well, I have not sensed anything about her!" Faervel snapped. "And I will not so gladly be deceived that this...this creature is our dead mother! Have we not all suffered enough with her loss than to torment ourselves in hoping she has come back to us!?"

"You know that is a lie." Legolas contradicted. "I can sense it in your heart! You do feel a connection...you did the first time you met her, in that moment you faced her down before Emily stepped between you."

"Do not read into things you do not understand." Faervel warned, eyes flashing. "I felt nothing! I saw a threat and I saw my duty. Nothing more."

Legolas opened his mouth to press the matter further.

"Enough. Both of you." Thranduil ordered. "We know nothing for certain until she wakes. I have shared this with you, as it is your right to know. We will let nothing of what has transpired out of these walls, save in the event that I choose to take others into my confidence. Other than the small team of healers hand picked by Medlinor, no one else shall know of this for the time being."

"But, do you think it is really her? Ada?" Aewnith asked, her eyes searching his face earnestly.

Thranduil hesitated, weighing out his own hurricane of emotions carefully. That there had been a confusingly specific connection to Gwilithel could not be denied. The fact that the beast form had fallen away at the sound of Cellissel's own song of remembrance also could not be denied. Nor could the fact that she was the spitting image of Cellissel and had even shared mannerisms with her while in beast form. Too many variables. Too many unanswered questions. His own thundering heart, aching to go back to the elleth could easily betray him, and he could hear the logic in both of his sons arguments.

"Nothing is certain." He answered finally, clamping down on his own flurry of desires until they were buried underneath ice and stone. "Time will tell who she truly is."

Just then Glorfindel slipped into the room, not bothering to knock and looking out of breath.

"Thranduil...she is awake. I think you had better come. I have a feeling your presence will remedy the situation better than any other."

"What situation?" He demanded, already in motion towards the door with his robes billowing.


A less than ideal circumstance, to be sure, but Medlinor had really come to expect nothing less when dealing with ANY member of the royal family. Nothing was ever simple with them.

His assessment of the elleth had been long and careful, his own healing song twisting round hers and seeing years of damage and loss. Though the baseline personality of the elleth was muddled and confused, everything else about her the healer could confirm was impossibly identical to his once dead queen. Right down to the last scar and echo of age in her bones, up until the point she had been lost to them, he recognized her. As her healer, he knew well the song of her health. There was no mistaking it. In the physical sense at least, this was some how Cellissel.

Her mind on the other hand...

Only moments after tapping into it could he see layer upon layer of confusion, chaos and damage. The time spent in beast form was undeterminable, but clearly it had been a very long time, during which her identity had been deeply buried...possibly lost forever.

Of course, it had to be when he was stepping away to make notes and allowed Sidhel to care for some of her hurts that she decided to wake up unexpectedly and filled with fear.

Things escalated quickly from there.

In a flash the fragile elleth had flipped the poor young healer into a choke hold and snatched a scalpel from the tray of tools, levelling it near to his throat as she somehow dragged the taller elf back against a wall, using him as a shield. He complied easily, letting her drag him, and then making it easier by dropping to his knees while waiting a little tensely for Medlinor to take action.

The chief healer turned to one of his assistants. "Tell Lord Glorfindel to go and get the king. Quickly."

Not even bothering to nod, the elleth hurried out to the next room where the warrior had been waiting in Thranduil's stead while he spoke with his children.

"Cellissel!" Medlinor said calmly, moving towards them. His other two assistants not too far behind him.

She gave a feral growl in her throat as she moved the scalpel closer to Sidhel's throat, clearly indicating that she wished them to stay far away from her. Despite having health and height to his advantage, the young healer wisely remained still, preferring to risk being stabbed by his confused queen than to put her weakened body at risk by trying to break away from her.

"Cellissel..." Medlinor tried again, this time using her mother dialect of elvish, halting his approach and holding his hands up in gesture of peace. "No one is going to harm you, you are among friends. Just put the scalpel down and let him go."

A flicker of hesitant recognition quivered through her at the sound of her name and the familiar language. It tugged at her heart longingly. Then, fear and suspicion clouded her face once more as quickly as lightening.

"What have you done to me!?" She demanded in a voice that sounded raw and clumsy from infrequent use. "And who are you?"

"My name is Medlinor, and we didn't do anything to you...Thranduil brought you here after your beast form fell away and you collapsed in the snow." The healer paused as he gauged her reaction to the name of her husband. It was hardly noticeable the way her lips parted as she drew a sharper breath than the short pained gasps she had been taking thus far. "You are among your own people, Cellissel. We are not here to harm you..."

"My people..." She repeated, her voice light and feathery she stared at him with glassy eyes that were still filled with mistrust and fearful doubt.

Medlinor bowed his head in acceptance, though hope began to seed itself in his heart the long he spoke with her. He knew Cellissel well, for she had long been his patient and friend. The hard shell she hid behind was as see through as a pane of glass. She may yet still be there, though lost at this moment.

"Cellissel..." He took a step forwards as she swayed on her feet, the knife tipping outwards unconsciously to avoid harming Sidhel as she struggled to stay on her feet.

In an instant her awareness returned and she clamped the knife back to his neck once more with growling yell of, "Stay away from me! I mean it!"

"What is going on in here!?"

All eyes turned at the sound of the soft, deadly calm voice in the doorway.

Thranduil entered, tall and regal as ever as he strolled in with every bit of control and authority he had mastered over his long years. His eye were fixed on his wild wife as she returned the gaze with utter bewilderment.

"Look at your hands, Cellissel," Thranduil commanded softly, as he took advantage of her shock and approached slowly. "Look at the life you are threatening at this moment in your fear...I know that even at your most feral, you never wanted to harm anyone. You saved us. You sacrificed you well-being for me...for my son...my granddaughter...you have connected with her, and began your journey home. Let the boy go, continue on this path out of the darkness and fear, for a new day is dawning, a day of hope and peace, not of fear and doubt."

As he spoke, the hands of the elleth began to tremble as she tore her hard, frightened eyes from his face to the knife in her hands and the young ellon kneeling quietly at her feet.

"Do you truly wish to spill his blood? Could you really do that?"

There was long pause as Cellissel stared, mind whirling as she tried to make sense of everything. Then she gave a soft, gasping cry and tore her hands away from Sidhel, taking herself and the scalpel back against the wall, remorse and horror at her actions flooding her face.

As Sidhel swiftly moved away with the continued calm he had been exhibiting thus far, Thranduil took a step closer, only to have Cellissel step into a defensive stance, holding her small weapon ready as she ordered him without much strength, "Stay away from me..."

The king stopped instantly at her request and waited, watching her. To anyone who didn't know him it would seem nothing she did could ruffle him, however Medlinor could tell the elf's heart was breaking for his poor, frightened wife and that he loathed not being able to go to her and keep her safe in his arms, banishing every doubt.

Thranduil felt all reservation of her identity melt away the longer she stared up at him. How could he not recognize and see her? Even beneath the confusion, distrust, and lost memories, the elf king knew she was there. His own feƤ singing for joy as it sensed her scattered one trembling at the end of the bond he had began to build with 'Gwilithel'.

"Melleth...if that is what you wish, I will leave. We will leave you in peace...only if that is indeed what you wish. Do you want to be alone?" Thranduil asked gently, "Lost still and only a shadow of who you are hidden beneath fur and claws so that the world could not take you? Do you want to live again, or merely survive as you have been forced to do these many years?"

She closed her eyes in pain at his words, indecision and confliction working through her body. Tears began to spill over.

"Or..." Thranduil moved closer, until he stood directly before her. The intimation of his height and size was softened by the tenderness and love shining in his eyes, effectively freezing her in place as he gently closed a hand over the knife hand to take it form her limp fingers. She resisted a moment, breathing quickly as she gripped the knife once more. The other's words came softly to her, inviting and calm. "Will you come home? No more running. No more hiding. No more fear. No more fighting. You are safe here...I promise you, with all my heart, I'll keep you safe...come home, Cellissel. You have wandered long enough."

A ragged sob tore from her throat.

"Who is Cellissel?" She cried, dropping the scalpel and instead scratching at her arms and clawing at her body. Panic rose in her voice as she bumped against the wall behind and her breathing hitched dangerously. "What am I!? W-what am I!? I don't...I don't understand...what happened to me? Where are my wings...? What did you do to me?"

"Shh...shhh" Thranduil took the knife as it slipped from her grasp, tossing it aside and instead catching her as she finally lost strength to stand. "Breath, my dear friend...breath...we have done nothing to you. This form is your true form...you have merely forgotten it. Breath...Cel- Breath, Gwilithel. You are safe...do you not sense my words are true?"

She clung to him, gasping for air.

"Focus on my voice...you have always known us...you know we are going to take care of you...relax...let go of this fear."

"I...I can't..." She wheezed. "I'm so afraid."

She went limp after that, finger going slack and sliding away from his forearms as she lost consciousness once more.


Waking the second time was not nearly as dramatic or sudden as Gwilithel previously had experienced. She rose to met the world gently and almost peacefully this time. First the sound of running water graced her ears, thundering in the distance with a comforting rhythm. Next the sweet smell of lavender and clean air filled her lungs as she inhaled deeply. Then she took note that she was warm and comfortable, tucked snugly beneath linens and a soft pillow under her head. In that place of peace, Gwilithel nearly let go once more and drifted back to sleep...however...the question swiftly rose in her mind.

Was she truly still Gwilithel? Or was she Cellissel? Who was she? What was she? Why did the two leggers know her, and how was it that she now stood like one of them...and why did she sense that this was as she was meant to be?

Panic threatened to surface and she drew another long deep breath to stave it off. Panic would do nothing. She needed focus.

A few more breaths lead her to resolutely open her ears and meet the world head on, guarded and careful, ready to fight if need be.

Slowly she looked around her, not moving too much and biding her time.

As she had suspected, she was in a bed that was housed in a small room light by shafts of light from high above, crystal lanterns and a cheery fireplace. Her eyes flicked to the left in search of the way out and instead fell upon the one they called Thranduil sitting next to her and watching without a noise.

She flinched, then stared him down. Had she still her tail and large ears, both would have flicked in great annoyance. Despite the lack there of, it must have been communicated through her face for the watcher tilted his head in slight apology.

"I regret startling you, my friend." He said genuinely. "It was not my intention."

"No matter." She replied curtly, then cleared her throat a little. The words fell from her mouth naturally, but her voice itself felt sluggish and raw. "Where am I."

A faint smile pulled at the other's mouth. What for, Gwilithel could not guess, but it annoyed her.

"You are in the healing wards, within the walls of my palace. I assure you that you are quite safe here."

"And I'm supposed to just take you at your word?" The question was sharp and growly. It made her feel strong.

"That is up to you. I have my suspicions that if you search your heart, you know I am telling the truth." Thranduil answered, unphased by her fierce tone. That only served to irritate her more. "With your permission, I would like to reintroduce to you two old friends of mine and talented healers, Medlinor and Elrond."

"I sense you would introduce them whether I liked it or not." Gwilithel snarked, her teeth baring a humourless grin that was closer to a snarl. Again, her defensiveness did not have the desired affect. Thranduil merely smiled a little and then gave a soft nod.

"Perhaps you are correct. But I ask all the same. Would you speak with them?"

The female's eyes flashed a little, then her expression became bored and she turned her head to stare forwards at the wall.

"Very well."

Thranduil rose and crossed the room to admit the healers. It troubled Gwilithel that she felt a sense of familiarity towards both of them, past what she cared to admit.

"Lady Cellissel," The raven haired one greeted her, the timber of his voice kind and inviting. "It warms my heart to see you."

"You are so certain that I am this...Cellissel...how can it be that I remember nothing of that name? Perhaps you are mistaken." Gwilithel answered, looking sharply at the three standing before her and holding her head high regardless of the quivering fear growing inside her.

Medlinor spoke up next. "Truly, you remember nothing? The name has no sense of familiarity to you?"

"No." The word came too quickly.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you do not feel any connection to it, or the form you are now in, or the people in this room...look at me in the eyes and tell me you did not feel the call of home right before you changed." Thranduil ordered quietly, stepping closer to the side of the bed and bending forwards ever so slightly as he stared intently at her.

Bristling, Gwilithel found she couldn't make eye contact. "No...I do not...not really...perhaps there is a vague sense, though I would hazard a guess it is because you all keep referring to me as such. You gave me one name already, why must you insist upon a second?"

Thranduil opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by Elrond.

"As you wish, my lady." He said smoothly. "It is clear nothing we tell you can convince you we tell the truth. We could tell you everything there is to know about you, but I can see in your eyes that you are still filled with distrust. I would be willing to guess only remembering it on your own will be proof enough of who you are...tell me, what are your earliest memories?"

Gwilithel opened her mouth haughtily ready to retort, only to find she had nothing to tell. She frowned, sifting through her sluggish memories and fighting the alarm that was spreading through her.

"There...there is very little..." She murmured, voice becoming light and lost sounding. "So very little...why is there so little...?"

Had she never thought about it before? She didn't know.

"I know I was held captive by Orcs for a time. Those are the earliest memories. And that we escaped, myself and the rest of my...friends, I suppose I should call them...they escaped with me from that dark place so very long ago. Then I know I stayed with them in a land far from here past the town on a lake, way across great mountains because I knew of no where else to go. I thought I was one of them...but then...perhaps I always knew I was not at the same time...they had no wings. They...they took the form of great strong two leggers from time to time. I did not." She drew a short breath as her eye bored into the fabric of the white gown she was dressed in. "There is so little...how can that be..."

"What of recent events? Do you know how or why you came to these lands?" Medlinor asked gently, his gruff demeanour no where to be found in the face of his old friends crumbling wall of strength. With each passing moment her fierce, protective exterior broke, leaving behind the same frightened and confused elleth he had seen the previous night.

"The foul beasts...orcs...they took great wolves who were our friends and attempted to take other creatures as well, like the little lioness. A group of us went to rescue them...we were successful, for the most part. We didn't get them all. The other went back with those they had, and I...I went after the rest."

"You went alone?" Thranduil asked, his voice hinting at his displeasure at her recklessness.

"Yes. I couldn't leave them. I remember that...but there was something else. The orcs had a creature like me, and I couldn't stop myself. I needed to know what it was, were it came from...why it seemed to serve the dark creatures." Gwilithel shivered, recalling suddenly. "I got too close. They captured me and tried to turn me...the other creature, the one like me...for some reason he helped me escape, twisted with darkness as he was. Perhaps he was not beyond hope. I roamed the woods, haunted by darkness until the little light bringer's song called me back. I then returned to my original mission and moved to rescue the remaining captives only to find she had already done so. The rest you know."

There was a long thoughtful silence before the lady spoke up once more, breaking the other three from concentration. "What happens now? Am I free to leave?"

Her eyes fell on Thranduil as she said this, mixed with challenge and fear. Honestly she wasn't sure what she was more afraid of. Him saying that she was not free to go, or him saying she was.

The elf king's brow creased with a flash of pain, then he dipped his head gracefully to her. "You are no prisoner. You are free to leave, if that is truly what you wish."

Medlinor jumped in quickly on the heels of that statement as though he were afraid she would leap up and run off immediately. "You could also stay! You could stay just for a while and see if you remember anything of the lady we know to be Cellissel. To ensure you can trust the memories, I propose that you be told the minimum. Nothing more than your name and that you do indeed belong among us. Allow time for you to recover yourself, for it was you who buried it. I sensed it within you and you must be the one to will it forth. If you remember nothing at all in say...two months, then we will leave you in peace."

Gwilithel considered his words carefully, weighing them and balancing out the choice. "And if I do not recall this person you think I am? Will you let me go and help me regain my other form? Will you let me remain as Gwilithel?"

"You have our word, my dear friend." Thranduil told her gravely, the words falling with thickness from his lips. The tone made her heart give an uncomfortable twist.

"Very well. I agree. Two months. That is all. After that I find my own way."


With the agreement of Cellissel, Thranduil swiftly set into motion what needed to be done in order for the lady to live among them without being told much about herself in hopes she would remember on her own.

First, Thranduil called together all of his family, including his brother in law, Rimdir who was Merenith's grandfather. It was a difficult conversation for some of them (namely Faervel) were still very resistant to the idea that Gwilithel was truly Cellissel.

Second his chief advisers and staff were gathered in order to be brought into the loop. This was swiftly followed by mixed reactions and confusion, but in the end they all agreed to follow his wishes.

Next the kingdom was gathered and informed of what was happening. This caused a great amount of gossip and murmurings, however there was one thing that could be said about the people of the Greenwood Great; they had tremendous respect for their king and would do anything for him. Thus, all was settled and all had agreed to keep their tongues still when tempted to over share with the returned queen or gawk and stare. All understood or at very least accepted that it was imperative that Gwilithel remember Cellissel on her own. Unless very specifically asked by Gwilithel to tell her something of what they knew, no one would say anything. Gwilithel knew the rules that the rest of these people would be going by and thus felt at ease to wander about, humouring them and waiting out the two months. There was no need for her to ask questions...or so she kept telling herself.

Oddly enough, she found that she couldn't help seeking out the one called Emily. She supposed it was because the young girl had known her first as Gwilithel and she owed her much for calling her back from darkness.

On the third day of her allotted time among the elves, Gwilithel ventured out of the healing wards and went looking for Emily. The young apprentice healer, Sidhel, told her she might find Emily in the stables and had happily supplied her with directions of how to get there. Admittedly, it bothered the lady that she found she hardly needed them at all and her feet carried her easily to the stalls.

It was quiet there, with only the sound of horses; munching hay, swishing tails and breathing. A few other individuals were there, however despite their curious stares, they left her in peace. The voice of the little Light Bringer carried down the corridor to her. Gwilithel followed it to find Emily grooming a small white horse, talking to it softly and humming as she worked.

Gwilithel stood in the archway a moment watching and listening. The horse snorted when it saw her, drawing Emily's bright eyes up and over to her.

"Hello." Gwilithel said quietly.

"Hi!" Emily was big eyed and surprised to say the least, her voice stammering a little. "H-How are you?"

A smile pulled at the mouth of the older elleth.

"I am well, thank you." Gwilithel replied, walking closer to the horse and reaching out to stroke the sweet geldings' face. "Who is this? I have see you riding him before."

"This is Beau. He's a dear boy, sensitive and sweet." Emily told her. "But, don't let that fool you. He is actually head of his little herd and one tough little horse."

"Indeed. He is a soul of great strength."

"He is..." Emily fidgeted and then asked softly, "How are you doing...with all of this? It must be so confusing for you...I can't even imagine."

The other remained silent for a time, absentmindedly picking up a brush from the box and setting to work on the other side of the animal before her.

"I am not certain, if I am entirely honest." Gwilithel said at length, mildly shocked with the way vulnerability came so easily when speaking to the young girl. Perhaps it was because Emily, being so young, had no preconceived ideas of who she was. "They say my name is Cellissel, and yet I feel more at ease thinking of myself as Gwilithel...in fact I think that there is a part of me that would be happy to remain as such."

"You mean...you don't want to remember?" Emily sounded distressed, her brow drawn together painfully.

Immediately Gwilithel regretted her choice of words. "Perhaps not...perhaps I had a good reason to forget.

"So, you would rather just stay Gwilithel, the winged creature, wandering and forgetful of who or what she is, belonging nowhere and falling back into more of an animalistic state than on of sentience?" Now the girl sounded crushed.

"I am uncertain." Gwilithel sighed.

"But...we love you...and we miss you...you have no idea how much so." Something about the way Emily said it caught the attention of the older elf and she could read nothing save utter sincerity in those brown eyes pleading with her over the back of the horse. The girl barrelled head, unable to stop herself. "You told me once that you trusted in the plans of Eru, and in his goodness, even when you knew that would mean you were going to...leave us...now with how everything has come together, all the pieces aligning and fitting perfectly, I refuse to believe you were not in the right place at the right time in order to reclaim your true form, nor will I accept it was all for nothing."

"And so you are certain I will recall myself...I will recall Cellissel?" Gwilithel raised her eyebrows at so decided a speech from one so young.

"I think..." Emily hesitated a little then. "I think you already know the answer to that. You won't be able to help yourself. Your heart already knows the truth even if it scares you, and you're strong enough to face that."

"Hmm."

They fell into a long silence before Emily blurted out. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't push like that..."

"No offence was taken." Gwilithel murmured.

Beau gave a soft snort then, ears perked forwards as he stared off into the hallway. Gwilithel and Emily both turned to see what had drawn his attention only to see no one.

Sharp eyes searching, Gwilithel clamped a strong hand down on her unease, knowing full well someone was watching them. She could feel it with every fibre of her being.

"I don't see anyone." Emily breathed softly, "But, I know someone is there."

Gwilithel remained alert, then she said with a deadly calm and her teeth barred in a small snarl. "I see them. It's that pesky prince again...the oldest son of Thranduil."

"Faervel?"

"Yes. That's the one." Gwilithel growled. "He's been trailing my movements off and on ever since I was free to roam the halls. Insolent cub watches from afar, his face leaving no secret of his suspicion and displeasure. He seems to have appointed himself as my keeper without leave, for I sensed no lie from your king when he assured me I was free among you all."

"Oh..." Emily sighed, glancing to the hallway with a tired frown. "Yeah...he has some...control issues...but, really he means well, it just takes him a while to...sort himself out."

Consideration for what Emily said about Faervel lingered for a long while in Gwilithel's thoughts, haunting her steps hours after she had taken her leave of the girl and set about wandering the halls, generally avoiding anyone she saw. Her shadow remained with her, ever hidden and staying at a distance.

While she could appreciate that the elder prince was feeling protective, or suspicious, she found that she could only take being followed for so long. Quickly, she grew irritable, both at the fact the more she walked the halls the more she had to face the fact that they were as familiar to her feet as breathing was to her lungs, and because of the fact that as she admitted this to herself she felt the need for privacy.

Feed up, and as though on pure instinct, Gwilithel turned a corner suddenly, swiftly sprinted a short distance, then pressed an innocent looking rock on the wall. It gave way, opening a passage through which Gwilithel slipped before her shadow could catch up. She then took a series of twists and turns through the maze of pathways between the walls until she was satisfied.

Upon exiting the labyrinth of passages, she found herself in a great room filled with shafts of light and in which the ceilings had been carved so perfectly, sound bounced exquisitely around her. Further inspection brought her attention to the great shelves filled with leather bound books of music, a great many musical instruments and several chairs.

Music. This was what got her into this situation in the first place. Had she not stayed to listen to the music that night, she might still be free.

Stopping, Gwilithel ran an agitated hand through her hair.

No. Not free. She wasn't free. She was just as trapped and lost in that form as she was now. The only difference was these people seemed to have answers and believed that she would remember all of them soon enough.

A long sigh echoed through the room as she walked towards the instruments on the wall, eyes scanning them over until she spotted one that called to her.

It was a violin.

With a trembling hand she reached out to removed it from it's place of honour, her fingers greeted by the wood like a old friends' embrace after a long time apart. There was no escaping it. She knew this instrument as though it were a part of her own soul, lost as it may be.

"There is no going back, is there." She said to the violin cradled in her hands. A thumb plucked the strings gently, and to her surprise, they rang out with clear and perfect pitch. Encouraged, Gwilithel lifted it and raised the bow in her other hand to draw it across the strings. The sound rang out, shaky and imperfect. Wincing, she tried again and let her fingers move clumsily. It was terrible, stiff feeling and not at all what she felt in her mind that it should sound like. After several more tries, Gwilithel found the simple tune came with more ease, though still far from perfect. All the same, it soothed her soul to play and let the music echo around her, painting an image of herself she had been resisting.

Cellissel was still there, buried and trying to find her way out. Gwilithel needed to accept that they were one and the same person.

Stopping her playing, Gwilithel stood staring at the violin, heart thundering in her own ears.

"You are not wrong."

Spinning round, Gwilithel found herself nearly face to face with a very tall, extremely fair elven lady. A river of golden hair cascaded down her back and unfathomable years of life shone in her keen blue eyes. How the elf had snuck up on her, she couldn't tell.

"I beg your pardon?" Gwilithel gaped, finding the shock of being caught of guard robbed her of all prickly attitude.

"You are not wrong that Cellissel is still there, nor are you wrong that Gwilithel needs to accept that you are one in the same person."

"How can you know that?"

'I have seen it in your heart, and heard it in your mind.'

Gwilithel bristled and tried to flick her tail, momentarily forgetting she had none. "That doesn't seem like a breech of privacy at all, now does it."

The lady only smiled. "And yet you know I speak the truth."

The chip fell from her shoulders and her mask of strength gave way to defeat as she lowered her eyes to the floor, feeling suddenly very young. "I do."

A warm, gentle hand took her chin and raised it so she looked the other in the eyes. "Do no fear reclaiming yourself, Cellissel, my dear child. There is too much at stake. Your people will need you before the end of the coming darkness."

"I got lost once before," She answered in a whisper. "Was it not weakness that caused me to forget not only myself but also my own people?"

"No. It was necessity in order to protect them. You will remember soon enough. You are stronger than you know, little one."

"I don't even know your name."

A light laugh escaped the ancient lady, and she replied, "You will soon enough. Find me when you have, even if it be long after I leave these woods, for I would greatly love to hear from you. You have been sorely missed. Farewell thee well, Cellissel. May your music never waver, and your soul find its way home."

With that, the golden lady walked away leaving behind a very baffled, yet oddly peaceful elleth.

Shaking her head a little and giving a rueful smile, the musician lifted her instrument again, playing lightly with more confidence as she let her thoughts clear.


"You mean you got to speak with her?!" Merenith obviously a little green with admiration. "My great aunt...your grandmother...just think! How was it! What's she like?!"

"Like Gwilithel? I don't know..." Emily shrugged a little, accepting a canteen of hot tea from Tirnel as she and Merenith sat comfortably up in the tree structure that often housed the Four Dull Ones.

In the winter months, the ellons typically lived within the barracks with the other guards. During the nicer weather they lived outdoors like most of their people did, high up in great tree houses constructed across many trees and cleverly fashioned so as to not harm the trees in any way.

Merenith still lived with her parents (much to her annoyance), however Tirnel had long since moved out and in with Sidhel, Gurador and Rusgon. Neither Gurador nor Sidhel had any living relatives in Middle Earth, Rusgon's parents were happy to throw him out and Tirnel wasn't about to be left behind when they had all banded together thirty years ago. He had also done it in the name of being a good friend. The house had belonged to Sidhel's family, and at the time the young healer was grieving deeply from the loss after the Battle of the Five Armies. Not being alone had saved his life.

Though it was the dead of winter, the six of them still would come out and enjoy the outdoors, for despite the prank war, the girls were always welcomed warmly.

"How can you not know what she's like?! You spoke to her, which is more than any of us can say...aside from Sidhel, of course!" Merenith pressed, eyes sparkling with interest. "I never got to meet the queen. From the tales I did hear from my daerada, she was legendary!"

"I just mean that she wasn't exactly who she once was, and more like Gwilithel, the winged beast, that I knew."

"And what is that like!"

"Leave her alone, Merenith." Tirnel groaned. "You knew Gwilithel, figure it out yourself."

"I didn't know her as well as Emily."

"She is not much different, Merenith." Sidhel sighed. "Still dangerous, still moody and queenly, still good at heart, and still irritable when faced with things that scare her."

"You should get along famously with her then, Mer!" Rusgon laughed, tossing a walnut into the air and catching it in his mouth like a dog. The elleth shot him a thoroughly unimpressed look, which only made him grin more.

"Watch it, fox face." She growled.

"Or what?" He taunted, orange-brown eyes sparkling with mirth. "You have yet to follow through with any successful revenge for anything I have done or said of late."

"RUSGON!" The other four in the room chorused.

"We just calmed things down from the last time you opened your big mouth." Sidhel grumbled, tossing a throw pillow at the guilty party and hitting him square in the face.

"Not only that, things nearly ended in disaster!" Gurador added.

"Well, it wasn't my fault that these two have no sense of timing and that their plans have failed miserably from the start." Rusgon chirped remorselessly, loving every bit of annoyance rolling off of Merenith.

"Must you always be such a pest?" Emily all but snapped, catching Rusgon off guard. Usually she tolerated him very well and often seemed amused by his and Mereniths' banter. There was a brief and awkward silence before Emily blurted out, "Sorry. I'm...I'm just...sorry...I guess I'm a little cranky today."

"Don't be sorry." Tirnel grunted as he flopped back in his seat so he could stare up through one of the sky lights. "He's an idiot."

"You know, it wasn't entirely your fault that we kept evading your traps of revenge." Sidhel said quietly, swirling his drink casually.

"What do you mean?" Merenith demanded after sharing a look with Emily.

"Awwww! Don't tell them!" Rusgon pleaded. "It takes the fun out of it!"

Ignoring him, Gurador smiled and said, "Let's just say, we were tipped off on more than one occasion by someone."

"Who!?" The girls wanted to know.

Drawing out the suspense, Tirnel asked his comrades, "Should we tell them? We risk the wrath of our informant..."

"Informants...plural." Sidhel amended. "And we should be able to handle them if we recruit a few individuals."

"Who?" Emily asked again, this time allowing her face to shift into a more sweet and pleading expression as she stared directly at Sidhel. Though she was oblivious to how his ears when a slight shade of red, the rest of the room was not.

"No, no. That's too easy." Tirnel interrupted. "You have to guess."

Rolling her eyes, Merenith drew a deep breath. "Our brothers?"

"Nope."

"Joel?"

"Nope."

"The twins." Emily tossed out there before Merenith could guess again.

"Yes."

"Of course." Emily laughed. "Are there more?"

"Yes."

"Vede Legolas?"

"Surprisingly not."

"Estel?"

"No, not him either. He has been very focused in the library these days studying our records and accounts of the lands around us." Gurador supplied. "I believe he is leaving us in the spring and journeying to the kingdoms of men."

"He is?" Emily asked, momentarily distracted. "Why?"

"I over heard him speaking to his brothers and Lord Elrond." Gurador replied, "Something about familiarizing himself with other lands and spending more time among the race of men? It sounded as if he meant to be gone for a long time and was choosing a different name for himself to go by. It seemed to burden him greatly."

"Oh..." Emily shifted uncomfortably, not liking the idea of her friend leaving for a long time or the fact that it was troubling him also. "Ok...well what about...what about Glorfindel, because it can't be Clare..."

There was a pause and look exchanged among the ellons. The wind blew, rustling the tree boughs and sending the snows that had gathered on them thudding to the ground.

"Yes, on both accounts." Tirnel grinned. "And that is everyone."

"What!?" Emily squaked. "But...but Clare was on our side! And Glorfindel...I should have known he would be involved..."

"That traitor!" Merenith flumed good naturedly. "How shall we get her back?"

"Nah uh! We can't! We promised." Emily reminded them all.

"True..."

"What if we could convince someone else to do it?" Rusgon piped in, his ever devious brain working.

There was an air of consideration among the others.

Tirnel kicked forwards from his reclined position. "Who would you suggest?"

"It would have to be someone that can't get in trouble as badly as we can."

"And someone who has more brains and experience, no offence everyone."

"None taken!"

"Speak for yourself, Sidhel! Emily and I are insulted. Merenith is really very rude to sugges-"

"Rusgon, you can't speak for me. I'm really not insulted...our plans were terrible."

"On the contrary they were good, just poorly timed."

"Thank you for that."

"But really, who do we get to take this mission on?"

Who indeed. The group of young elves spent the rest of that afternoon tea brainstorming and coming up with the perfect candidates. The question was, could they convince them to help?

AN: Not as long as I was hoping to make it, however I was anxious to update sooner with everything going on in the world right now and hopefully give you a little bit of sunshine. If you are looking for more to read, I have some short stories, AU's and snippets I haven't used for Walking In Worlds. This can be found on my website, and I encourage you to go check it out and leave a comment :) Hope to update again soon, even if it's a shorter one again. Let me know what you thought! Take care!