A drop of ink splashed over the previously pristine parchment, blossoming and spreading right over the words he had been so carefully writing. He let out a sigh, cursing his lack of attentiveness immediately placing the exquisite quill to one side over a linen cloth so that it would not drip over the desk.

His father's eyes lifted from his own work to gaze in his direction for what seemed like the hundredth time, lowering them once again wordlessly, continuing his reading undisturbed. The Crown Prince took a second glance at the splotch of black now in the middle of the parchment. A couple of words could no longer be read. He would have to start again from the beginning.

Silently, he placed the ruined yellowish parchment to the side, taking a new blank one and carefully cleaning the quill from any remains of ink that might fall before starting all over. Word by word he let the quill dance, the soft scratching sound singing in harmony to the cracking flames in the majestic fireplace.

The weather outside was doing little to help his concentration. The pale grey light filtered dully through the tall crystal windows, signaling a sky overcast with heavy clouds, the window crystal's frosting under the harsh cold air outside. Soft flurries twirled slowly down the air in a weightless dance, accumulating over the stone windowsill and covering in uneven patches the ever green grass. It would melt throughout the night. He could already tell the snow would soon turn into rain.

Normally he would have taken his paperwork to his chambers and work there, but there was no point in trying to move everything he would need when in less than an hour he was expected in this very room with his father for yet another meeting. He did not need to ask for the time to know that there were still some long hours left before the sunset.

Sunset. Only thinking of that made his mind start drifting again, his eyes absently gazing outside the window, easily finding that particular frozen pond amidst the infinite gardens. Unsurprisingly, there were very few elves outside, only a handful of ladies strolling casually, wrapped in thick elegant cloaks and gloves.

She was there, sitting on that same chaise facing the pond, although why she was there this early in the afternoon and in this freezing wet weather he could not comprehend. And yet, he wished that his father's grand study had a better view of that particular garden, for he could barely make out her delicate figure through the lush green branches of the neighboring gardens, everything looking so tiny from above.

He placed a strand of his long hair behind his ear, returning his eyes to his work, copying word by word from the previous parchment. He cursed inside his mind once again: he had misspelled the last word. Why did these reports have to be neatly written in ink where no mistakes were ever allowed? Silently and taking a deep breath, he placed the quill aside again, discarding the newly ruined parchment and picking out another blank one.

His father closed his book, the heavy thud echoing over the tall book covered walls of the massive study. He turned his eyes up only to find his father's ice blue eyes studying him carefully, the ghost of a sly smile curving on the corner of his mouth.

"You may go." Did he hear correctly? He knew he had not shown hi puzzlement in his face, but his father could always read through him no matter what.

"I will finish here. Send for Tadion on your way out, I will have him attend the meeting this afternoon for a change. You are free to go." His father continued, waving a hand elegantly at the pile pf parchments currently sitting in front of his son. He could not help feeling guilty at the offer, knowing that his father would must probably spend nearly all night working if he took over these reports as well.

"Ada…" He started, but his father but him off almost immediately.

"Go before I change my mind." His father dismissed, picking up the book once more and lowering his eyes to the infinite pages, a strange gleam sparkling in their icy blue depths.

A smile curved up on his lips, his hand almost immediately setting the quill down and carefully closing the cut crystal flask of deep black ink. He neatly arranged the parchments, quickly sorting the finished and unfinished reports in separate piles before rounding the large oak desk, feet walking in long strides towards the pair of tall doors.

"I want to meet her." He did not have to turn around to hear the smirk in his father's voice.

"How…?" Was all he was able to say, turning around only to find his father's eyes smiling back at him, a strange combination of pride and teasing gleaming hidden in his ice blue eyes. But he did not even need to ask. He knew there was nothing he could ever hide from his father.

"I have never seen you so eager to finish with the day's duties, or paying so little attention." His fathers waved a hand almost absently as he spoke, even though his knowing eyes continued to smirk at him underneath a raised brow. "And it has been a while since you have smiled this much at dinner, almost every day now."

The Crown Prince shook his head, unable to contain a smile from growing on his face. He did not say anything else, simply turning around and heading outside the room, his father once again immersed in his heavy book.

"My father sends for Tadion." He instructed the guards flanking the door, not turning to look at their faces. He knew they would follow his command almost instantly. It felt strangely relieving to give that command, as if for the first time he would not be the one forced to sit through another endless meeting.

Crossing the long labyrinth of corridors in long strides, nearly running to his chambers and picking out the first thick winter cloak he saw. Never mind the cold outside, his feet were already guiding him out towards the terraces, deep blue robes trailing silently behind him.

He had to blink a couple of times as he stepped outside into the snow patched grass, the soft cold flurries sticking to his eyelashes and hair. His slender fingers pulled the cloak's hood over his head, even though it did little to prevent the wind from blowing snowflakes into his face, touching his skin in a cold kiss and dying in droplets of iced water.

The snow churned underneath his feet, making the ground uncharacteristically slippery as the drops of ice accumulated in a thin ephemeral layer, making it hard to distinguish in between puddles and ice patches. The ground smelled wet, that sweet fresh scent of humid leaves travelling in the gentle iced breeze. He walked in silence, enjoying the manner in which the cold weather meant there were very few elves to greet in the gardens, the majority of which did not even pay attention to him under the heavy cloak.

It was as his feet knew their trajectory better than his own mind did, turning left and right around trees and bushes, rounding large beds of snow-covered roses and blossoming silver flowers on their own accord. Up above his head, the heavy sky seemed almost white, a pale gloomy grey that extended homogenously as far as the eye could see, the kind of sky that makes everyone wonder if there was even a sun somewhere amidst the mist.

He stopped when he saw her, still oblivious to his presence, her honey color eyes lost in the frozen pond. The dull grey light heightened the ashen tones in her long silken hair which fell freely down her back and to her waist. She had not even pulled the hood of her cloak up, the tiny snowflakes showering over her head as her hand made a long stick of graphite dance over the pages of an open book in her lap.

"Oh, my eyes!" He laughed quietly as he sat down next to her, exaggeratedly pressing a hand as if to shield his eyes as his other hand pointed at the image she had been drawing.

Honey colored eyes, as bright as the morning sun, lifted in his direction, a chorus of laughter sweeter than any melody leaving her mouth.

"You are early!" She smiled, closing the book over her lap, the graphite rolling over her knees and falling to the grass with a deaf sound. He leaned down to pick it up, shaking the water and snowflakes from it before handing it back to her.

"Were you drawing the lilies again? Under this weather?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am getting better at it." She pushed a strand of her long ashen hair behind her ear.

"You are not." He pointed out the truth with a light chuckle as she placed the opened book over his lap for him to inspect her messy arrangement of lines. "Why do you keep insisting on drawing?"

"Because I like it." She shrugged, and Valar, he would never understand how she could not have cared less at how ugly her drawings were. "Can you teach me?"

"To draw?" He studied her face, slightly surprised by the request, only to find her honey colored eyes looking at him peacefully, gentle.

"Yes." She nodded, and he did not know what to say for a moment. He could not say no to her, he would never say no to her, but it had been so long since he had last drawn, since he had held a piece of graphite or charcoal in his fingers…

"Not right now, of course." She added quickly, as she could easily read through to his thoughts. "But perhaps someday."

"Perhaps someday." He agreed, breaking his gaze from her eyes and gently closing her book over his lap.

"Are you free for the rest of the day? You are still wearing robes." She asked him, her eyes brightening up at the prospect and Valar he wanted to press his lips to hers.

"I am free." He smiled at her expression. "I had a meeting but no longer have to attend it. What plans did you have for the afternoon?"

"None, really." She chuckled, pressing her thick cloak closer to her body at the iced breeze toyed with her hair. "I thought I might head into town for a walk. Would you like to come with me?"

Her eyes lit up at the expectation, but he raised a questioning eyebrow at her words. Into town? With this grim wet weather? And still he already knew he would comply with her request. Although leaving the Palace meant that due to protocol he would require at least one guard following him – even if two were always preferable. He would have to tell the guards not to follow him and stay in the Palace. It would not be easy, as it was his father's orders that him or any of his siblings were always guarded when leaving the Palace…He had not been into town for so long he could barely picture what it felt like to be there.

"Into town? Now?" He questioned her, that smile that seemed softer than the falling snowflakes playing on her delicate face. "You do know it will rain soon, do you not?"

"It will not rain." She laughed at his words at if the prospect of rain sounded completely absurd, and, Eru, he could hear that sweet melodic sound for the rest of eternity. "It is snowing."

"It is not cold enough for it to keep snowing for long." He shook his head, explaining the situation to her even though he already knew his words would absolutely ignored by her reasoning. "This will easily turn into rain."

"I still want to go." She was stubborn, her hands fidgeting with the corners of her book. "I have not been there in such a long time."

At first he was confused, but quickly remembered that she had spent the past years in Lorien. Perhaps she had not been to town for as long as him. He let his eyes gaze around them, knowing that this particular garden was already empty. Still, the wet weather and patches of puddles and snow reflecting the greyish blue of the overcast sky above was all that he needed to confirm his thoughts. There would be few guards outside in the main courtyard in this weather, and none of them would look twice at him wearing the hood of his cloak, especially if it was snowing.

"Very well." He said, rising to his feet and extending a hand for her to take, pulling her up in a gentle move. "We will have to sneak out."

"Sneak out?" She narrowed her eyes in slight disbelief. "You are Crown Prince, certainly you are allowed to go into town as you please?"

"Certainly." He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head once more at her trail of thought. "However, unless you would rather have a guard following us, we will require to sneak out."

"Do you always need a guard?" He watched as the corners of her smile dropped, and for the first time in his life he wished he could have been any common elf who could accompany her anywhere in Arda she wanted without any of this obnoxious protocols and complications.

"Most of the time, yes." There was no point in denying it, even though he wished he could tell her otherwise. "It depends on the situation and place, and it is mostly out of decorum."

"Can you not order them not to follow you?" She seemed confused, turning her head slightly to the side as her honey eyes stared deeply into his, once again giving him that feeling that she could see right through him. And she knew what she was thinking. How could he have so much power and at the same time so little.

"Not if the orders come from the King." He clarified, and he watched her mouth curve in the delicate shape of a tiny 'oh'.

"All right." She spoke, suddenly sounding a little too excited about sneaking out, making another chuckle leave his lips as her face lit up like that of an efling who was about to be shown magic. "How do we sneak out? Is there a secret way out? A hidden door?"

"You have far too much imagination." He mocked her, letting his fingers intertwine with hers as he started to lead the way slowly through the ample gardens. "We will sneak out through the main gates."

"The main….? That does not make much sense, does it?" She sounded slightly disappointed at the lack or hidden door or secret passage.

"It makes the most sense." He corrected her. The snow was starting to fall heavier now, and he watched as she pulled her own hood to shield her head from the falling flakes. "If we do not hide, the guards would not think there anything to look for."

"I do not get it." She shook her head, but did not ask anything else.

He could already see the grand courtyard in front them, a fine layer of white covering the grass like a soft blanket. Just as he had anticipated, there were only two guards standing duty, not really paying much attention to their surroundings. He knew the guards were to be watchful of anyone attempting to enter the palace. Leaving would be entirely too easy: After all, all elves that lived at the palace left continuously to spend time either in the forest or out around town.

He kept walking at the same slow pace, Indilene close by his side. With the snow wearing hoods was not unusual, and nobody would pay attention to who was hiding under the cloak. He could have been any other elf in the Palace. And just as he expected, they walked right out of the main gates, the guards noticing them without turning to look at who they were.

"That was not much fun." She muttered with a quiet laugh as they strolled down the sloping path that started to meander in between thick trees. The stones were unusually slippery under their feet, and they were forced to slow they march, being overly careful as to where they stepped.

"Next time I will think of some secret passage or door to make it more interesting for you." He mocked her, his eyes looking through the dense screen of grey and brown tree trunks, already seeing the small houses and buildings that composed the center of town. It was only a couple of minutes' walk down from the palace.

"So what would you like to do in town?" She changed the subject, her honey eyes glinting once again with their usual fascination. Even the most banal of things seemed fascinated to her, nothing ever seeming too plain or boring to her eyes.

"I will go wherever you wish to go." He shrugged, letting his hand once again reach for hers, lacing their fingers together. "I have not been here in years."

"There must be a place you wish to go." She insisted. "There are no guards following you. You can go anywhere. Anywhere. We can do anything."

He let out a quiet laugh at her enthusiasm. Valar, who ever heard must think he was prisoner that had just been set free for the first time in his life.

"It does not work that way." He placed a quick kiss on her cheek, noticing how cold her skin had gotten under the iced breeze. "It is not as if the absence of guards following me means that I can do and behave in any way I wish. Not in public. But it is refreshing not to have someone shadowing my steps."

She let out a sound that seemed a strange combination in between a sigh and a chuckle, her honey colored eyes turning to gaze at him momentarily. All right, perhaps one thing seemed boring to her eyes: him, at this precise moment.

"I am disappointing you today, am I not?" He rose an eyebrow as he spoke, too amused at her obvious expressions. "No secret doors, no hidden paths, no rebellious attitude now that I am guard free and outside the Palace…."

"You should keep a list." She smiled as she spoke, gleaming eyes teasing him. "Keep track of all of those things of which you now have to make up for."

He laughed as a response, not telling her that he was indeed keeping a detailed list inside his head. It was so easy to laugh freely in her presence, to say anything that came to his head. It fascinated him and at the same confused him, as if there was really nothing he could hide from her, as if she could understand through any of his actions, read even through his silence.

The path was widening a couple of meters ahead of them, and he could already see the collection of smaller lacing paths that met it, houses with long thin columns and buildings that seeming to grow out of the trees coming into view. They were still a little far from it, but even from the small distance he could see that the streets and paths were mostly deserted: The weather had everyone tucked warmly in the comfort of their own houses.

She screamed, his head immediately flying in her direction, suddenly alert. She jumped, the back of her head hitting against his cheekbone, making him close his eyes at the unexpected impact. He felt her collide against him, the move too fast, slipping on the snow and iced covered path, and then her hands were gripping at his cloak for support, his own feet sipping. He did not notice he was falling until he hit the rocky path, a negligible weight falling over him. A sharp pain flashed on his left arm, just under his elbow, and only then he realized he had used that arm to stop his fall. The rocks in the paths must have probably cut through his skin.

His head turned immediately once again in her direction as she let out another panicked cry, her body writhing around, hands frantically brushing at the skirts of her dress. It was as if his heart had momentarily stopped beating, eyes flashing around to their surroundings, to her, all of his warrior instincts suddenly taking over as worry pooled deeply in his stomach. What was wrong? Was she all right?

He tried to reach for her, but she squirmed violently again, throwing her back against him and nearly knocking him out of breath, his elbow sliding more over the rocky path and be bit down a hiss of pain. He managed to grab at her, his arms frantically wrapping around her waist protectively and he saw her kicking her legs around, hands continuing to brush the skirts of her dress.

And then she was still. Her body suddenly relaxed, her back awkwardly falling against him as she breathed out heavily, seeming relieved, a hand flying to rest over her chest. For a second he was sure he had never before been more puzzled in his entire life, his warrior instincts still alert, eyes searching all around them for anything that might have caused this reaction. And when he saw it, he did not know whether he wanted to laugh at her or murder her. Just there, a couple of feet away from Indilene's feet, the tiniest of spiders was quickly making its way away through the stones, like a little black dot that moved. And yet Indilene's panicked eyes were still watching it intently, following its every move as if it was the largest most terrifying monster her eyes had ever seen.

"Quiet." He whispered in her ear, her arms wrapping tighter around her slightly shaking body. She was absolutely terrified. "It might hear you, and eat you alive."

He received an elbow to his side in response, honey colored eyes glaring at him fiercely, but he decided he deserved it. Instead, he let out a laugh, not able to stop his chuckles at the absurdity of the situation, laughing until his sides hurt. How long had it been since he last laughed like this? He could not stop. He could see her eyes glaring daggers at him at first, as if attempting to stress her point that she did not find it funny to be mocked, but not even she could hold her laughter for much, and soon enough she too was shaking with chuckles to his side.

He could feel the wetness in his robes and cloak, the snow and iced water covered nearly all of him now from he had fallen, but she was no dryer. And Valar he was only glad that there was nobody to be seen around, for the first time thankful for the horrible weather.

"What happened to you?" She asked in between chuckles, her eyes widening slightly as he felt her cold finger's gently brushing against his cheekbone, just underneath his right eye.

"You happened to me." He narrowed his eyes in reply, reaching for her hand which fell exactly on the spot where the back of her head had collided against his face.

"I am sorry." Her eyes went wide, the expression on her face suddenly slightly panicked, resembling that of an elfling's. He waved off any of her worries with an elegant movement of the hand.

"I am fine." He placed a quick kiss on the back of her hand, but her eyes continued to look at him almost too guilty.

"It is red…I will bruise." She looked mortified. Anyone who saw her face at the moment would believe she had stabbed him.

"It is fine." He calmed her, but her eyes seemed to be scanning him already, looking for any other point in which she might have accidentally hit him.

"You are bleeding." She breathed out, all traces of her gorgeous bright smile leaving her face, and he would have done anything to have it remain there, always outshining the sun.

Immediately his right hand flew to cover the cut just underneath his left elbow, trying to keep any blood out of her sight, afraid that she might faint again but her fingers were already fighting his, trying to get a look at the wound.

"Do not look at it." He indicated, but her eyes threw a quick glare at him.

"I will be fine. If the blood is not coming out of me then it does not bother me." She clarified, her hands managing to gently unlatch his fingers from around his elbow, turning his arms to inspect the minor injury. The wide sleeve of his robes had slipped back during the fall and the long sleeve of his silver tunic underneath now lay ripped where his arm had smash against the ground, revealing a long scratch that was stained with a combination of fresh crimson blood and dirt and dust and tiny little rocks.

"It is merely a scratch." He pointed out, which was the truth, but she was looking at it as if someone had cut his arm off.

"We should clean it." She was right about that, even though he shook his head, wanting her to forget about that tiny scratch and let them continue their way.

And yet, before he could say anything he felt her delicate fingers gently pushing at the sleeve of his tunic, just where it met his wrist, starting to pull it back from his arm, revealing his skin…..He snatched his arm away from her grasp, a sudden fear rushing through him, leaving her perplexed for a second, both of her hands rising slightly in the air as if to prove she meant no harm. Her eyes pierced through him, gentle, patient, and yet once again making him feel as if she could see right through him.

"I am merely going to clean it." She spoke gently, her expression as calmed as before, as if his sudden reaction had not affected her. And yet her eyes continued to carefully study him, patient, as if she knew…..

She could not know. There was no way for her to know. For a moment he did not move, eyes staring deeply into hers, keeping his left arm close to his body almost instinctually. He should not have reacted as fast as he did, she now knew something was amiss, that he was hiding something. Btu she had peeled his sleeve back, she had been about to see it, and he did not know how he felt about that, did not know why he kept it so concealed, as if revealing that almost invisible mark meant revealing the much deeper wound along with it.

And he never really knew why, but the gentle quietness of her peaceful eyes, which swirled as sweet as liquid honey, warm and welcoming, made him move. It seemed to go against all of his instincts, against anything that he would have done in any other circumstances. Slowly, he extended his arm once again for her to inspect, feeling the cold touch of her bony fingers as she solely started to pull his long silver sleeve back.

He closed his eyes, his face a stone mask of serenity, not betraying anything that might be going through his mind. He could feel her fingers against his skin, the sleeve being pulled higher and higher, right over it, and he knew it was in plain sight now, his sleeve now over his elbow, but he did not open his eyes to see her reaction. He did not want to see her eyes looking at it.

Instead, he felt her fingers turning his arm, so that his elbow with the minor scratch was facing up, and he felt a cloth being brushed against it gently, cleaning the dirt and dust. He opened his eyes, mostly in confusion, only to find her carefully cleaning the small scratch, her eyes still as peaceful and open as before, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She had seen it, of that he was sure, but part of him was glad that she acted as though she had not, even if the other part ached at how she immediately pretended to not have noticed. He was hurting her by pushing her away, by not letting her spirit reach his, not letting his own spirit reach for her, never once pushing him.

"That is as best as I can do." Her voice pulled him out from his wondering thoughts, his eyes flying to inspect the now roughly clean scratch. It would heal within a day, two at most.

Still he did not say anything, slowly turning his bare arm around, eyes landing on his inner arm. There it was, seeming to jump immediately in sight, so vague and yet so noticeable to him, as if always calling for his attention whenever on sight. His eyes followed the contours of the little fingers imprinted on his skin, and he was aware that she too was watching, even though she stayed silent. Such a tiny insignificant mark, barely a scar at all, but he knew the scar was not on his skin. Such a tiny thing, and yet so much of him lost.

He lifted his eyes, meeting a silent pair of gentle hazel orbs looking patiently at him, not looking down at the mark in his arm even though it was right there on plain sight. He knew she would ignore she had seen it, would pretend it was not there. And he knew the reason why: to not push him away….better said, to not make him push her away, not make him suddenly become cold and distant once more…But could he let her know just how deep the wound really reached? Would it hurt him?

"Shall we keep going?" She smiled at him, that warm smile that brushed away any sort of concern. But he did not want her to pretend any longer.

He shook his head, not finding words as he braced himself for the decision he had struggled to make amidst the fight inside his head, inside his being. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Why was it so hard? It should not be this hard, and yet it was. He was scared, frightened beyond what he could explain. He avoided any kind of contact with any other spirit, even keeping his father and siblings at bay through the bond they shared as family, not letting any of them reach him, scared of any contact on the still tender wound. The wound was there, pulsating, a black hollow void where what left of his energy strained in a painful imbalance, form being easily ignored somedays to suddenly dropping or magnifying like waves at other days.

It was the hardest thing he had done, seeming to go against all of his instincts, his fear wanting to pull him back. But he reached for her, slowly, tentatively. Her spirit was so close to his now, close enough that he knew she could feel the presence of such an obvious wound even if he had not fully reached her. He braced himself for pain, for the torturous jerk he would feel once anything came in contact with his fractured spirit, his imbalanced energy.

He drew in a breath. And it felt as if he was breathing for the first time after many long years. Her spirit reached him, almost too easily, warmth suddenly filling him, and he felt…..he felt fine. He did not know what to say, what to think. The painful void had seemed to disappear, it did no longer hurt, no longer tortured him, even though he could still feel it there, where it was, where it should have bene painful. For the first time in many long painful years, it felt as if his spirit was…whole. It was like floating after being anchored by heavy weights, head finally breaking through the surface after drowning. He felt….like himself….whole….well. For the first time nothing hurt.

He opened his mouth, but could not speak, her spirit still intertwined with his, a frail bond yet already growing stronger. She did not know how it felt, the magnitude of the burden that the sole presence of her spirit laced with him lifted from him. He had almost forgotten how it felt without that void, even though it was still there, only not able to feel it. He could not feel the wound. He could not feel it.

He felt claws closing in his throat, not able to find his words, closing his breathing momentarily. He had believed he would never feel this way again, had come to terms with it….it felt surreal, a wish he had not even attempted to make. It was relief. Relief that had finally come after a long suffered torture. Relief that he had expected would never come.

He felt cold fingers grasping his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, and at first he was confused, but he felt something sliding down his cheek, slowly trailing down his face. A tear. He was crying? In front of her? But he could not control it, the momentary relief from his misery was too great. He closed his mouth, knowing that words would not come out at the moment, his throat too tight. Instead, he breathed. And for the first time the air was fresh.

The first few drops hit his head and body, ice droplets of what had been snow not too long ago. It quickly turned into rain, giving little warning drops before it poured right over their heads. Just as he had predicted. The iced drops trailed down his face, drenching his hair and mixing with his tears. But it too felt as if for the first time in many long painful years he could feel them, could concentrate purely on them since he did not have to maintain a part of him focused on keeping his own torn spirit at bay, keeping the wound ignored so that it would not affect him. He had forgotten how it felt to feel everything around him so clearly, to focus on the world instead of keeping his thoughts and efforts centered inward, trying to keep himself together and functioning properly.

"Are you all right?" She broke the silence, eyes carefully looking at him, partially worried, having to raise her voice slightly to be able to speak above the thunderous drumming of the raindrops against the ground. She was drenched, her silken ashen hair sticking to her head and face, and making her blink away the drops that gathered in her long lashes. He knew he must have looked ridiculous, sitting down on the ground next to her, in the middle of the main path towards town, even it was deserted at the moment, unable to stop his tears from flowing.

"I am well." Was all he was able to force out of his throat, squeezing her hand tightly in his, not wanting to ever let it go. As long as her spirit remained close, intertwined with his, as long as she stayed by his side, he was well.

Here is chapter 8! It was supposed to be a little longer but because of the word count I cut it into two parts, so the next chapter will start right where this one left off.

Again thank you so much to those of you who reviewed the last chapter: Amsim, Exey23, StarFilledSkies, And the visitor and guest reviewers!

The story should start to align with Alamrëa in the next chapter. For those of you who asked what was happening in Almarëa/Elerrina during this story begins in the same fall where Elerrina has just arrived in Imladris. The twins and Rina get to Mirkwood by Winter's Solstice, and it's already winter in this story.

Anyway I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Love,

Elena