Chapter Eleven

Dear Mother,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have traveled down to Rohan and it is nothing but grassland as far as the eye can see. I remember you telling me stories about this land from when I was small. The people here are just as you have described, a little mistrusting of strangers. I hope you are well and I hope to see you soon. Perhaps my travels will bring me back to you.

Your loving son,

Estel

It had been a rather lively morning as Elrond lead a small legion of his warriors to their borders where orcs have been reported. It had been another ten years since Ayla watched Aragorn leave the haven of Rivendell, and she had to admit, it was rather lonely without him but she had been kept busy, teaching some of the elves about medicine and how the anatomy of the body worked. She had never thought of herself as being a teacher but she was rather good at it, and the elves had been most receptive and fascinated (and somewhat disgusted).

Ayla couldn't remember the last time she had taken the time to sit and draw (never mind the doodles she made in the corners of her notebooks), the last time was probably when she was still in high school and going through her angst phase. She drew on thick parchment with charcoal pencils, drawing out in great detail the human anatomy, muscles, skeleton, and organs. She was currently in the middle of sketching out the heart and its four chambers for her next lesson when a commotion near the gates grabbed her attention. Wiping her hands, Ayla made her way from her bedchamber towards the source of all the excitement. A part of her wondered if maybe it was her son, returning from his adventures and the thought of it made her excited and hurried in her eagerness to see him.

It had been little over four years since she last saw Aragorn, though they didn't spend much time together as her son fell prey to a pretty face and pointed ears (he obviously takes after her in his preferences of attraction). Arwen, Lord Elrond's daughter, had also seemed to return the attraction to Aragorn, and like any good mother, Ayla had a hard time resisting to meddle in their development. It was almost painful to watch her son interact with the beautiful maiden, seeing him tripping over his words and his face growing red with embarrassment (it was adorable). Of course Aragorn's stay in Rivendell came to an end and he returned on his travels, heading south. Arwen stayed much longer and she and Ayla became close friends before the elven maiden left to return to Lothorien.

Following the noise, Ayla paused at the top of the stairwell.

She was not expecting this sort of company.

xxxxx

Thorin and his company were huddled in suspicion as Lord Elrond dismounted his steed and greeted Gandalf. They had escaped the orcs that had been pursuing them only to end up again in enemy territory. Thorin looked on in guarded suspicion but was soon distracted by an image coming down the steps to the landing. His eyes widened a fraction and his jaw went slack as he saw the one woman he thought to never see again… and she was as beautiful as he remembered, not having aged a day as usual, and glowed like an angel.

"Well bless my soul," came Balin's voice beside him. "If it isn't…"

"…Ayla…" Thorin said, his voice soft with the warm memory of her.

"What unusual guests," Ayla said, smiling brightly at the company. "And all of faces I haven't seen in years."

"Mother of Mercy, of beauty, grace, and warmth." Gandalf said, placing a hand over his heart and bowing his head to Ayla. "It has been a long time, My Lady."

"Gandalf, still wagging that silver tongue of yours, I see." Ayla said, though she smiled at him warmly.

"My Lady," Thorin said, bowing to her, and his men followed in the same manner. Bilbo hesitated for a second but quickly caught on to just bow regardless if he understood or not, his eyes glued to Ayla, having never seen someone so enchanting in all his life.

Elrond greeted them in elvish and it was obvious the dwarves had no idea what had just been said to them.

"What does he say? Does he offer us insult?" Gloin asked, ready for a fight.

"No, Master Gloin. He is offering you food." said Gandalf.

The dwarves all huddled together, whispering quickly amongst each other before facing them again. "Very well then! Lead on." said Gloin.

xxxxx

The dwarves were shown to a wing where they may stay and were given time to unburden themselves and rest before mealtime. Bilbo was enchanted by Rivendell, the magic there was strong and gentle, like being wrapped up in a warm blanket. It was hard to believe that he, a hobbit, was in the home of the elves. No one back in the Shire would believe him, or maybe they would considering he had left his home in a ruckus. An elf had come to lead them to the dining hall, a space with no walls and open sky and tables set for all of them with silver plates and goblets.

Bilbo looked over at the table where Lord Elrond sat, with Gandalf, Thorin and Ayla seated with him. The hobbit had noticed how Thorin had looked at the woman when they first arrived, never having seen such a look on the warriors face.

"So who exactly is that woman?" Bilbo asked from where he sat at the table.

"That woman is Lady Ayla," said Dwalin, his tone sounding almost offensive by Bilbo's ignorance.

"Folks also know her as the Mother of Mercy." said Bofur, "She's quite famous, the humans view her as a deity of medicine."

"A deity? So then how do you all seem to know her?" Bilbo asked.

"She is a friend to both dwarves and elves. Constantly travels between the kingdoms as an ambassador, of course no one has seen her in decades but from the looks of it she's been here the whole time." said Bofur.

"She travels between the elves and dwarves but not with humans? Isn't she a human herself?" Bilbo asked.

"Humans, over the years, had slowly turned against her. There is a story that a human King accused her of witchcraft and sentenced her death. That was the last time any attempt of rebuilding alliances with humans had been made." said Balin.

"Her own people tried to kill her?" Bilbo asked.

"They didn't try, they succeeded." Bofur said in a matter of fact tone, "And then she rose from the dead like nothing had ever happened."

"Rose…rose from the dead?" Bilbo was beginning to wonder if they were now just stringing him along with these absurd tales.

"Aye, lad, but don't ask us how she does it." Balin said, "Because nobody knows. And it's best to not ask, it's bad luck."

"And what about her and Thorin?" Bilbo asked, seeing the way Thorin looked at Ayla with such fondness and familiarity. "Is there something between them?"

"There was once." said Balin, "It's a long and very complicated history between them that had a…unfortunate ending, but he never stopped loving her."

"How…how did it end?" Bilbo asked, forgetting that Thorin had a different life before he met the stoic dwarf. And to see a softer side of their leader was as foreign to him as being in Rivendell.

"Not well." Balin said with a sigh, looking at the man who was his king. "It didn't matter how much he loved Lady Ayla, she is not a woman to be kept from the world. All people, all races will always need the Mother of Mercy. That, and I suspect that her heart still belongs to another man, even when she was with Thorin."

Another man? It sounded like a romance novel some of the women back home in the Shire often giggled about and wishing that they had such romance. From what he had heard, Bilbo thought of it as one of those great tragic love stories where the hero of the story sacrifices himself so that his love may live on. Bilbo couldn't help but stare, seeing the emotions on Thorin's face softening away the sever lines and making the dwarf look younger. While Bilbo shamelessly watched with curiosity his companions all complained of their meal being nothing but green leaves and no meat. The dwarves also complained about the soft music that was being played by the elves and Bofur took it upon himself to lift the moods of his brethren by bursting into a song well known in dwarven halls. He stole everyone's attention as the dwarves all joined in the song, throwing their food and laughing.

Elrond watched, rather appalled by their unruly behavior and Gandalf somewhat shrank in his seat. Ayla on the other hand was enjoying it, laughing at the merriment. She had forgotten how much fun the dwarves were compared to the refine elves. And Thorin watched Ayla, having forgotten how beautiful her laughter was.

xxxxx

After dinner, Thorin walked with Ayla upon the stone path as evening descended upon them. It had been so long since he last saw the woman beside him, their last encounter being a memory he would rather forget. He still blamed himself for what happened and for driving Ayla away. He wanted nothing more than to tell Ayla how sorry he was and beg on his knees for forgiveness.

"So you've been here all this time…with the elves." Thorin said, sitting beside Ayla in the small alcove where the unmarked grave was. Ayla always found herself gravitating to that place, probably because it was quiet and secluded.

"Yup, this is where I've been." Ayla said, hooking one knee over the other and then lacing her fingers over her knee. "Hiding away from the world."

"I'm glad to see that you've been safe and well looked after. I had thought you returned to Thranduil." Thorin said.

Ayla tensed up at the mention of his name, recalling the last she saw of him and how he walked away from her. The memory of it still made her heart ache. She forced the memory and pain back into the crowded corner of her heart. "So I hear you're planning to take back the mountain. That's quite a task you took on, Thorin." she said, changing the subject.

"It is necessary to take back what rightfully belongs to my people."

"It's a noble endeavor, but what about Smaug? How do you plan to kill a dragon?"

"All I need is the Arkenstone to solidify my claim as the rightful king."

"I don't think this quest of yours is a good idea. Some things are best left forgotten."

"No! This has to be done." Thorin said, standing up to turn and look at her. Ayla didn't move from her seat, simply looking up at him calmly.

"That stone was the starting point for your grandfather's madness; do you really want to risk it? Risk the same fate?"

"I am not my grandfather." he said sharply, looking at her. Determination to prove her wrong burning in his eyes as he took her hand in his. "I will take back the mountain, and I will then ask for your hand again with a greater gift. I will show you then that I am a changed man."

Ayla sighed heavily, shaking her head. "You haven't changed and this quest of yours has already consumed you." she pulled her hand away from his and stood up. "You should value your life and the lives of your men above gold…and above me."

"You're right…" he said quietly, laughing bitterly to himself. "You're always right."

"You should go. I'm sure you'll want that map read." Ayla said, giving Thorin the hint that he was dismissed.

"Ayla," Thorin said, and Ayla looked at him. "About what happened; I never apologized to you. For what I did to you."

Ayla looked away from him for a moment before looking back at him. "Before you say anything let me tell you that you hurt me deeply. You let your fear overpower you and you then lashed out at me and everyone around you. What you did is hard to forgive but I mostly just want to forget and move on."

Thorin's throat felt tight, trying to absorb what Ayla had just told him. "I had always suspected, but you never said a thing."

"I did tell you, but you only got angry with me and we would then end up arguing and nothing was ever resolved. Our problems only got bigger."

"What can I do to prove to you that I've changed?" He watched with a sinking heart as she averted her eyes from him, how she bit her bottom lip and a crease forming between her eyebrows. It was all too clear that he had caused so much damage that the scar he made will never heal. He reached for her hand again, gently holding her fingers as he continued to stare at her. Thorin knew that even to this day her heart still belonged to the Elvenking, and it slowly ate away at him like a cancer.

She looked down at their joined hands, remembering how his large hands had touched her gently but also striked her so hard she bled. "Don't ask me how you can prove yourself. That's not my responsibility." She then pulled her hand free and turned away, leaving him in her wake as she vanished around the corner. Thorin pressed a hand over his heart, feeling it break as he also left. Turning around to leave the opposite way he stopped when he saw Bilbo. The hobbit shifted nervously on his feet, his hands buried in his coat pocket.

"I uh…I wasn't eavesdropping, I promise." he said.

"Its fine," Thorin said quietly as he walked past Bilbo, "I'm sure you've heard the stories. I deserve this pain."

Bilbo turned to follow him, matching his pace. "Well, I'm sure there are plenty of other women out there who would be more than happy to be with a strapping dwarf such as yourself."

"Perhaps, but they're not her."

"Don't torture yourself, Thorin. What happened in the past cannot be changed and all you can do is look forward to do better in the future."

Thorin appreciated the hobbit's attempts at lifting his spirits, but it did little to ease his heartache. "Have you ever been in love, Master Baggins?"

"I…I can't say that I really have. I've had infatuations in my youth but love…not so much."

"It is a wonderful but painful feeling. One moment you are soaring in the heavens and the next you are ripped apart. It's a double-edged sword, and sometimes that sword will cut, but it is a risk worth taking when you know you've found the one."

"And is she the one? Lady Ayla, I mean?"

"She is my heart's desire." Thorin said, "I don't think I can ever settle for less."

xxxxx

Fili and Kili were overjoyed to see their godmother again, sitting with her in her private alcove, admiring the scattered parchments of drawings she had created over the years while catching up with Ayla. Kili had come across a collection of drawings of a young boy and upon further investigation he saw there were more spanning from infancy to adulthood.

"Who is this, Auntie?" Kili asked.

Ayla leaned over to see and a fond smile formed on her face. "That is my son, Estel."

Both Fili and Kili looked at her in shock. Ayla let out a light laugh at their expressions as she plucked one of her drawings from the pile, admiring it fondly.

"Is he…? He's not…?" Fili began.

"No. Estel is adopted. His parents, unfortunately, passed away. They were the reason why I needed to leave all those years ago." Ayla sat the picture down on the table with care, smoothing out the curling corners. "Because they're gone I decided to raise him myself, here in Rivendell where he would be safe."

"Where is he now?" Kili asked.

"His last letter to me said he was in Rohan but I suspect he's moved on since then." Ayla replied.

"So then you've been here all this time?" Kili asked, looking up at Ayla.

"Yes."

"Then why haven't you come back?" Kili asked. Ayla reached out and stroked his messy hair. "We've all missed you."

"I've missed you all, too, but going back would have complicated matters and honestly I missed being free to go wherever I wanted." Ayla said, and that was the truth, or at least, part of it. The other reason she didn't go back to the Blue Mountains was because a part of her was afraid of Thorin. The last few months leading up to her departure had been…eye opening. It was almost like witnessing Thorin succumbing to the dragon sickness like his grandfather, and she was the horded gold he coveted so jealously.

Ayla picked up another picture, the one she was fondest of with her son sleeping soundly in the flowerbed after a morning of playing. Ayla had happened upon him by chance; finding him passed out cold with a giant butterfly perched on his curly head and a line of drool running down from the corner of his mouth. Estel must have been four at the time.

"He's a good looking boy." Fili said, "He was lucky to have you as his mother."

"Thank you, Fili." Ayla said, smiling at him. "I was lucky to be his mother."

xxxxx

Ayla remained in her alcove long after her two godsons had left to return to the rest of their company, sitting in the bay window and gazing out at the shadowy landscape. In her lap was a crude drawing her son had made when he was a child. Looking at all the pictures she had drawn of her son had made her nostalgic of those days when he was still young. Those were some of her happiest memories, raising Estel. Aragorn. Now she can say she raised two sons. But now they're both grown and no longer in need of their mother. This must be what they meant about empty nest syndrome, missing your children once they've moved on to live their own lives. She wanted another baby, adopted or otherwise at this point. She loved every second of motherhood.

She just wished Thranduil had…no, she couldn't allow herself to go down that path of thinking again. It will only upset her.

She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, remembering the days when her boys were still small. Before she knew it she had drifted off to sleep, only waking again when she felt the roughness of callused knuckles brushing her cheek. When she opened her eyes she looked up to see Thorin standing over her and it made her heart skip in surprise. In the moonlight he looked intimidating with his wild dark hair loose around his shoulders and his clothes worn out and tattered from his rough journey. But despite his rough exterior it was his eyes that bothered Ayla the most. They were sad and lost, looking at her with longing and regret.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to startle you." he said gently.

"No need to worry." Ayla replied, sitting up straight and feeling her back was tight and annoyed from where she had slept at a terrible angle. "Was there something you needed?"

"I was hoping we could talk, but it's very late and I'm sure you're tired." he said, taking a step back.

"It's fine, Thorin, we can talk now." she said, gesturing to the empty space across from her on the bay window. He sat down, his hands clasped between his knees. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I know now that my behavior towards you in the end had been unbecoming of me. And I'm sorry if I frightened you and hurt you. Thinking back on it I was just afraid of losing you forever, and in the end that was exactly what I did."

"Thank you for apologizing." Ayla said, "But you know we can't go back to how things were. We can't be together, it wasn't healthy for either of us."

Thorin felt like she had dropped a boulder on him, but it was the least he deserved for what he had done. He supposed he should count his blessings that Ayla didn't outright despise him, especially when he was responsible for killing their child.

"We should go, I'm sure Lord Elrond and Gandalf are waiting to read that map of yours." Ayla said, standing up from her seat. Thorin followed, stand up as well.

"Yes, let me get Balin."

xxxxx

"For goodness, sake, Thorin…show him the map." said Gandalf as they stood within Elrond's study. Their host, Ayla, Bilbo and Balin also present.

"It is the legacy of my people. It's mine to protect, as are its secrets." said Thorin.

"Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves!" Gandalf exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Your pride will by your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle Earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond."

Thorin stared up at Elrond who matched his stare. Gandalf, Balin, Bilbo and Ayla were also waiting until Ayla simply rolled her eyes and smacked Thorin in the back of the head, surprising the dwarf while Gandalf hid a smirk.

"Just give him the map, Thorin." Ayla scolded. Bilbo was quite startled; his impression of the Lady Ayla was one with a gentle nature, not a woman who would so quickly strike a man on the back of his head.

"A voice of reason." Gandalf clipped as Thorin begrudgingly handed the map over to Elrond who unfolded the parchment and glanced it over.

"Erebor." Elrond said, his eyes quickly catching Ayla's for a split second before returning to the map. "What interest is there in the map to you?"

"It's mainly academic." Gandalf said, "As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text. You still read ancient dwarvish, do you not?"

Elrond looked at Gandalf, knowing the wizard was hiding the truth and then turned to hold the map up to the moonlight for clues. "Moon runes."

"Of course," said Gandalf, "An easy thing to miss."

"Well, in this case, that is true. Moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written." Elrond said, lowering the map to look back at his guests.

"Can you read them?" Thorin asked. It didn't go unnoticed to the dwarven prince when Elrond's eyes glanced up to Ayla before back to him.

The elven lord motioned for them to follow as he led the way to a cavern behind the waterfall where a crystal dais sat in the light of the moon. Elrond carried the map over to the dais. "These runes were written on a midsummer's eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago. It would seem you were meant to come to Rinvendell." He looked to Thorin with a smile. "Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines upon us tonight."

The light of the moon illuminated down onto the map and the hidden runes appeared at the bottom right corner of the map. "Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the key-hole."

"Durin's Day?" Bilbo asked.

"It is the start of the dwarves' New Year, when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together." Gandalf informed.

"This is ill news." Thorin said, getting everyone's attention. "Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us."

"We still have time," Balin reassured.

"Time? For what?" Bilbo asked.

"To find the entrance." Balin said, "We have to be standing in exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened."

Ayla groaned, her suspicion was right. She knew Thorin had intentions of taking back the mountain but to sneak in through a back door? That was almost has back as going through the front gates. Not to mention there were only thirteen of them! What will a handful of dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard going to do against a full grown dragon? Elrond seemed to have been on the same line of thought with her.

"So this is your purpose, to enter the mountain?" Elrond asked, looking down at Thorin.

"What of it?" Thorin asked, already coiling up and readying for an attack.

"There are some who would not deem it wise." Elrond said, handing the map back to Thorin who took it.

"What do you mean?" Gandalf asked.

Again Elrond had glanced at Ayla, both of them knowing something that the others obviously did not. They seemed to be having a silent conversation with their eyes before Ayla looked away. He then turned to Gandalf. "You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle Earth." he then turned to leave, and Ayla followed right behind him, not looking or saying anything to the others.

The next day Bilbo occupied himself by wandering the grounds of Rivendell. He admired the architecture of the buildings, the details in the paintings and murals. He admired how natural the trees and plants looked, growing healthy and strong and how the structure of the buildings looked as if they were part of the mountain itself. His wandering eventually brought him to an open room that looked more like a menagerie of exotic plants that Bilbo could not recognize and in a nook sat Ayla, with a large board on her lap that had a parchment on top and her hand carefully moving over it with a piece of charcoal between her fingers. Not wanting to disturb her Bilbo made to leave but bumped into one of the pots and nearly knocked it over but caught it in time.

Ayla looked up at him and Bilbo then felt compelled to awkwardly bow to her. She let out a soft giggle. "You are traveling with Thorin, right?" she asked.

"Ah, yes." he replied.

"And how did he manage to convince a hobbit to go on an adventure?"

"Well that's a long story of which I doubt you'd want to hear…M-My Lady."

"Nonsense," Ayla said, setting aside her sketch and wiping her hands on a cloth. She waved for him to come closer and he did, nervously twiddling his fingers as he stopped in front of her. Ayla suddenly felt a strange sensation come over her, much akin to having a rush of blood go to her head. It was strange and short-lived, and she was able to shake it off before Bilbo could suspect anything as she smiled at him. "Let's start with your name."

"Oh, right. I am Bilbo Baggins of Bagend." He saw her brown eyes light up.

"Baggins? You wouldn't happen to be a descendant of Baldo Baggins, could you?"

Bilbo looked at her in wonder and confusion. "H-how would you have known my great grandfather?"

Ayla's smile only grew, even though she felt another odd feeling come over her. It was all so very strange. Was it something she ate that morning? Doubtful but not in the realm of impossible. "I had traveled to your Shire many years ago and your great grandfather was a very hospitable host. And his wife, Berylla, she made the most delicious tea cakes I've ever had and she had even made a personalized handkerchief with the most beautiful embroidery work I've ever seen. I hope to visit the Shire again one day; hobbits are my favorite type of people."

Bilbo couldn't help but feel flattered as his cheeks turned rosy. "Well then, if you ever find yourself back in the Shire, you are most welcome to have tea in Bag End."

"Well, I thank you kindly. So, how did a group of dwarves wrangle you into their mess?"

"They just showed up at my doorstep, unannounced."

Ayla let out a light laugh, her face lighting up and her eyes sparkling with amusement. "That sounds about right. Dwarves have terrible manners, don't they?"

"Ah-ha! Don't get me started." Bilbo grinned, "I've heard that you are friends with the dwarves."

"Yes. For years I traveled to all seven kingdoms, extending good will and passing on secret love letters between young couples. I even traveled between the dwarves and the elves as an ambassador, trying to maintain what little relation there was between them."

"I was told you don't deal with your own people much."

Ayla shook her head. "No, sadly humans don't take too well when answering to the calls of dwarves and elves. They especially don't like it when a woman has more authority than a man."

"Yes, that is quite a shame. But you don't come off as the type to abuse her power."

"That really depends on who I'm speaking to."

Bilbo nodded and made the move to leave but stopped when his curiosity got the better of him and he turned back to Ayla. "If I may ask, and please let me know if it's too personal, but…I've heard that you and Thorin have a past?"

Ayla braced her elbows on her lap as she looked at Bilbo. "Yes, as does everyone."

"That—that's not what I meant. What I meant to say is—"

"I know what you meant. How about we start with what you have heard?"

"Just that Thorin…that he loved you—still loves you." he started to feel foolish for digging around for gossip. "I'm sorry; it's not my place to pry."

"It's all right. If you must know, I've known Thorin since the day he was born. I was very good friends with his mother, Dagna, and his father, Thrain. I also was there to help deliver his younger brother and sister."

"Wait, you were there when Thorin was born? H-how…?"

"Well, like all the other mothers I've helped I simply took on the role of a mid-wife." Ayla said, "I'm immortal, remember?"

"So then…were you there when it happened? The day the dragon came?" he said her smiled fade until her lips were in a neutral state.

"Yes. I was there when the dragon came." she said, looking at Bilbo as she leaned in closer to him. "Bilbo, if I may ask a favor from you?"

"Of course, My Lady."

"Please look after Thorin. Be a friend that he can confide in."

Bilbo nodded his head while his brows knitted together and he pursed his lips slightly. Clearly concerned by what Ayla was requesting of him. Another wave of dizziness was surging up and Ayla did her best to hide it as she turned her head away and closed her eyes, waiting it out. A flash of white light and blurry figures appeared before her for a split second and then it was gone. What was that?

"Will Thorin be all right?" he asked softly.

A feeling of pressure was building up in her head like a bad migraine. Where was this coming from? Gathering all her strength and will power Ayla looked back at Bilbo and gave him a gentle smile.

"If you are with him I'm sure that I am leaving him in capable hands." she said, doing her best to keep her voice even. "Now, please excuse me. I have a few things to finish."

"Of course. Good day, My Lady." Bilbo said, taking his leave. The further Bilbo was the faster Ayla's strange headache relinquished its crushing hold on her. She wondered if there was something Bilbo carried on him that was causing her to feel this way. But that didn't explain the brief vision she had.

xxxxx

Bilbo continued his wandering, exploring all of Rivendell until nightfall and as he returned to the wing that was given to the company to stay in he overheard voices below in the night. Down below, walking across the bridge was Gandalf and Elrond, with Ayla between them.

"…Of course I was going to tell you, I was waiting for this very chance." said Gandalf, "And really, I think you could trust that I know what I'm doing."

Ayla scoffed at him. "Do you? So then do you know what to do about that dragon?"

"That dragon has slept for sixty years," Elrond said, "What will happen should your plan fail? If you wake that beast—"

"—But if we succeed? If the dwarves take back the mountain, our defenses in the East will be strengthened!" said Gandalf.

"It is a dangerous move, Gandalf." Elrond said.

"Wrong, it's suicidal." Ayla corrected.

"It is also dangerous to do nothing! Oh, come now, the throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright. What is it you fear?" Gandalf asked.

"Have you forgotten?" Elrond asked, "A strain of madness runs deep in that family."

"It's true, I've seen it myself. His grandfather had gone mad long before that dragon even appeared; even his father had shown early signs of it." Ayla said, stopping herself before mentioning that Thorin already had the madness.

"Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall? Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle-earth." said Elrond.

Bilbo turned around and was caught off guard to see Thorin behind him, having also heard the conversation below. The look on his face, showing a shadow of doubt. Bilbo understood that hearing two people speaking about their quest, obviously against it, must have struck a blow to his morale, especially when one of the nay-sayers was Ayla.

xxxxx

Gandalf continued to walk with Elrond and Ayla, up the steps that gently curved with the hill it was built upon. "With or without your help, these dwarves will march on the mountain. They're determined to reclaim their homeland. I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield feels that he is answerable to anyone. Nor, for that matter, am I."

"It is not us you must answer to." Elrond said, looking ahead and Gandalf's gaze followed, landing on the waiting Lady Galadriel, standing radiant in the moonlight.

"My Lady…" he said, bowing. "I had no idea that Lord Elrond had sent for you."

"He didn't," came another voice. Gandalf seemed to have frozen, recognizing the voice as he slowly turned to face the leader of his order. "I have summoned this meeting."

"Saruman." Gandalf said.

"I'm not taking part of this." Ayla said, making a move to leave but was stopped by Elrond.

"You are as much a part of this as we all are." Elrond said.

"I would like to use my get-out-of-jail card." Ayla said as Elrond "gently" pushed her forward. "I don't want to be involved in this!" she hissed over her shoulder at Elrond who continued to strongarm her towards everyone.

"And yet, despite your protests, you have been involved from the very beginning." Elrond replied, his tone light as he did so enjoy making the strange woman squirm. They gathered around the round stone table, the night slowly giving way to morning as the meeting went on with the two wizards at odds with each other. Ayla was sitting in one of the seats, fighting off sleep as she found the arguing between the two old men tiresome. Galadriel stayed out of the arguing, saying very little while Elrond would intervene, trying to act as the voice of reason as he mediated between them.

"Gandalf, for four hundred years we have been at peace. A hard-won peace." Elrond said.

"Are we? Are we at peace?" Gandalf questioned, "Trolls have come down from the mountains. They are raiding villages, destroying farms. Orcs have attacked us openly on the road."

"Hardly a prelude to war." said Elrond, as he looked to Ayla, half asleep in her chair. "What does our ambassador think? Lady Ayla?"

Ayla gave a little start at the sound of her name, her eyes opening to alertness before letting out a long yawn. "Gandalf, you're looking for ghosts that don't exist." Ayla said tiredly as she rubbed the sleep from her tired eyes, her patience gone with all the back and forth. "Let it go."

"Let him speak." Galadriel said; her voice gentle and calm despite the tension in the air as she circled around them.

"There is something at work beyond the evil of Smaug. Something far more powerful." Gandalf said, looking at each of them. "We can remain blind to it, but it will not be ignoring us, that I can promise you. A sickness lies over the Greenwood. The woodsmen who live there now call it Mirkwood." he turned his head to look at Ayla. "They speak of a necromancer living in Dol Guldur. A sorcerer who can summon the dead."

Ayla had to shake her head at the absurd rumor, knowing that the castle was abandoned. "And what makes you think that?"

"It's absurd; do not be fed by such tall tales, My Lady." Saruman said, "This…necromancer is nothing less than a mortal man—a conjurer dabbling in black magic."

"So I thought, too. But Radagast has seen—" Gandalf began.

"Radagast? Do not speak to me of Radagast the Brown. He's a foolish fellow." Saruman said.

"Well, he's odd, I'll grant you that. And he does live in solitude." Gandalf said.

"It's not that. It's his excessive consumption of mushrooms." Saruman said, "They've addled his brain and yellowed his teeth. I've warned him. It is unbefitting as one of the Istari."

Ayla let out a frustrated, tired groan. "Look, now I'm not one to argue that consuming mushrooms doesn't affect the mind," Ayla said, "But Radagast is harmless and timid. Sure, he knows his psychedelic plants to give you one of the best trips in your life, but I hardly think he would purposely consume a bad 'shroom to make up a story about summoning the dead. Gandalf, if Radagast is telling the truth, can you prove it?"

Gandalf sat quietly for a moment before reaching into his grey robes and pulling out something wrapped in a heavy cloth and set it on the table.

"What is that?" Elrond asked, sensing the evil that emanated from the mystery object as he reached for the fold.

"A relic of Mordor." Galadriel said, her words heavy with warning as Elrond revealed the blade. Ayla stood from her seat, her eyes glued to the broken sword as she felt the low pressure forming in the back of her head, slowly creeping forward. Galadriel came up to stand beside Ayla, wrapping her arms gently around Ayla's shoulders. Almost instantly Ayla felt the pressure in his head subside, releasing the pressure. "Made for the Witch-king of Angmar…and buried with him."

"This is not possible. A powerful spell lies over those tombs." Elrond said.

"What proof do you have that this weapon came from Angmar's grave?" Saruman asked, remaining the skeptic.

"I have none." Gandalf admitted.

"Because there is none." Saruman said, "Let us examine what we know."

"Just shut up!" Ayla snapped, silencing the wizard. "This is proof enough that a problem is coming our way. Orcs, trolls, necromancers…next you're going to tell us that the One Ring has been found."

Lindir approached the council, "My Lord Elrond, the dwarves, they have gone."

Ayla let out another yawn, figuring she was free to return to her room for the night she turned to leave. She felt a lithe arm slide into hers and she looked to her left to see Lady Galadriel at her side.

"Allow me to escort you, my Lady, so we may talk." she said, her rich voice soft and soothing. Ayla nodded her head, too tired to protest as they walked at a leisure pace together. "I have noticed the scar on your cheek has healed, and I sense that your heart has mostly healed. Your son is well, I imagine?"

"Yes," Ayla said, a small smile on her lips. "I had received one of his letters earlier today, though I do wish they weren't so infrequent."

A sympathizing smile splayed out on Galadriel's lips. "I understand the feeling, and believe me when I tell you that it does not lesson with time. I still long for the days when my child was small and full of wonder." Ayla remembered Celebrian, having only met her once in Thranduil's court when he was hosting one of his rather legendary parties celebrating a holiday she could not remember. Those had been happier days. Sensing Ayla's mood turning, Galadriel stopped and gently tugged on Ayla's arm to make her stop as well. She touched the cheek that had once bore a deep scar, now completely healed. "I suspect whatever magic is at play that keeps you young and out of death's grip is tied to your heart. When you are happy and content, you heal quickly from even the gravest of wounds. And when you are heartbroken you heal slower than the average human."

Ayla turned away from Galadriel's warm touch. She had known that her strange healing ability was tied to her emotions, having pieced it together over the years. Raising Aragorn had healed her heart though she felt like she was still incomplete.

"He mourns for you; his heart weeps for his beloved." Galadriel said softly, seeing Ayla's shoulders tense up. "Has enough time not passed yet for you? To stubbornly keep your distance and only making both your hearts ache for an unforeseen amount of time? Is that what you truly want?"

"No, it's just…" flashes of the day when Dale was destroyed and Smaug took over Erebor. Seeing Thranduil turn away from his allies while the people died.

"Can you not find it in your heart to forgive him?"

Ayla blinked back the tears that were brimming in her eyes as she took in a shaky breath. "Good night, Lady Galadriel." she said stiffly, walking the rest of the way to her quarters alone. Ayla knew what Galadriel was trying to do, obviously knowing that Ayla was still hurting from leaving Thranduil. She had to wonder if the elven beauty also knew about Thranduil agreeing to leave her in Rivendell because of Aragorn? They had both agreed that it was for the best, after all, but watching him leave that night…it had broke her heart all over again. Ayla didn't think she was strong enough to face him again. She wasn't ready. She was too much of a coward to ever think she will be.

Even with the right push.

xxxxx

"My Lady, if I may have a moment of your time." Gandalf said, approaching Ayla the next morning in her small haven where she sketched her anatomical drawings. Ayla didn't bother to stop her sketching, nor did she look up at the wizard.

"Go ahead, Gandalf." Ayla said, having an inkling of an idea as to why he was approaching her right before he was leaving.

"I understand your stance against this quest, but I must ask for your help."

"And what sort of help are you asking for?" Ayla asked, her hand never stopping as she continued her measured strokes on the parchment.

"Your connections. You have more allies than I who will listen to you. Your words carry more authority and respect than even Saruman's. If you were to just hold out your hand and help Thorin in even the smallest way, it could change the course for him for the better."

"You're asking me to help Thorin reclaim the mountain?"

"I'm asking that you clear the path to the mountain, nothing more. You know the forest and its many tricks, without you to guide them they will be lost. Please, I am asking you as a friend to help another friend." Ayla stopped sketching and carefully set her parchment and charcoal down. "You of all people should know what it feels like to search for your home that was out of reach. Do you not empathize at all? Would you not help your friends return to their own home?"

"You play dirty, old man." Ayla said. Gandalf let out a breath of relief, knowing that he had her help. "Where would you like for me to start?"

xxxxx

Thorin and company had all ran into a house, scrambling to keep the door shut and the beast that was chasing them out. In a frenzy they managed to lock out the giant bear while trapping them inside for the night.

"What was that?!" Ori asked.

"That…is our host." Gandalf said, looking around at the perplexed faces. "His name is Beorn, he is a skin-changer."

"And he owes me a favor." the company all turned around, their hands at the ready to grab their weapons when they paused at the sight of Ayla, sitting at the giant table. She was dressed in elven clothes for traveling, her long dark brown hair tied back. At her feet was her pack of supplies.

"Lady Ayla?" Balin said, "How did you know we'd come here?"

"And how did she get here before us?" Kili asked, getting a shrug from his brother.

"Gandalf asked me after you all left Rivendell." Ayla said, "Anyone injured?"

As the company settled for the night, sleeping on the floor of the house, Thorin remained awake with Ayla and Gandalf as they spoke quietly in the back corner.

"Why would you come when you were against this quest to begin with?" Thorin asked, looking at Ayla.

"Whether I approve of this or not doesn't matter, Thorin." Ayla said, crossing her arms under her breasts and leaning back against the wall. "I'm here now."

"Lady Ayla knows the roads better than any of us here. With her as our guide you'll be able to make it to the mountain with time to spare." Gandalf said.

"It matters because she came upon your request." Thorin said, his tone slightly bitter.

"That's enough," Ayla said sharply, glaring down at Thorin. "I have my doubts about this but it doesn't mean I wouldn't help you. Gandalf asked me because your pride wouldn't allow it."

"Before, back in Rivendell, you said so yourself that madness runs in my family." Thorin said.

Ayla sighed, "Mental illness can be passed down from the parents; that is a fact, and I would hold onto the hope that you'd be the exception but you're not." Thorin averted his eyes from Ayla, knowing of what she spoke of.

"It's late; let us get some much needed sleep." Gandalf said as he turned to find a place to lay his head for the night.

Ayla sat down on the floor, pulling out a blanket from her pack. Thorin sat down beside her, getting her attention as she looked back at him. It was too dark to see his face, but she was sure that he was looking back at her. Not wanting to encourage anything, Ayla simply got up and crossed to the other side of the cottage, finding an unoccupied spot to sleep for the night.

Settling in for the night, Ayla laid her head down on her pack, using it as a pillow. Sleeping on the floor…her back was going to be angry in the morning.

As predicted, Ayla found that her back, indeed, was not at all happy to have slept on the floor all night. Sitting up stiffly, Ayla took a few minutes to stretch and try to work out the kinks in her back and neck before even attempting to stand. Quite a few of her joints popped, reminding her that she might be immortal but her body was still that of a woman in her mid-thirties. She saw that she wasn't the first to awaken, finding Gandalf had risen before her and he greeted her with a nod of his head before he went around and began to wake the others. Ayla went to where Thorin was still sleeping and shook his shoulder and called his name softly. He woke with a start, looking up at her with surprise in his eyes before they quickly softened at the sight of her.

The sound of wood being chopped could be heard coming from outside. Bofur climbed onto a chair to a window and peered out, wiping the grimy build-up on the glass with his coat sleeve to see the silhouette of a large man outside swinging an ax.

"We cannot pass through the wilderlands without Beorn's help. We'd be hunted down before we ever get to the forest." Gandalf said, "Now, this will require some delicate handling. We must tread very carefully. The last person to have startled him was torn to shreds. I will go first and—Bilbo? You come with me."

"Did you know that Beorn isn't very fond of wizards, either?" Ayla asked pointedly, placing her hands on her hips. "I'll come out with you, he at least knows me."

"I-is this a good idea?" Bilbo asked, uncertain of the plan.

"Yes. Now the rest of you, you just wait here and don't come out until I give the signal. No sudden moves or loud noises and don't overcrowd him. And only come out in pairs."

"Hurry up." Ayla grumbled impatiently, taking the lead out the door.

Gandalf looked back at the faces who stared up at him and he cleared his throat before following the woman with Bilbo in tow. As they approached closer to the giant man Bilbo could see Gandalf was uneasy while Ayla seemed sure of herself.

"You're nervous." Bilbo stated, looking up at the wizard.

"Nervous? Nonsense." Gandalf balked.

"Good morning!" Ayla greeted, startling Gandalf as he looked to her with wide eyes.

Beorn turned to look at them as he lowered his axe, his eyes fixed on Ayla. "Lady Healer, what brings you to these parts with strange company?" he asked, his eyes looking beyond her to Gandalf and Bilbo.

"I want to start off by thanking you for your hospitality," Ayla said.

"We took refuge in your lodgings here last night." Gandalf said before getting an elbow to his ribs from Ayla.

"You humble me with your presence, Healer. I thought to never see you again." Beorn said.

"Oh please, what kind of friend would I be to not visit every once in a while? I saw you've expanded your house last time I was here. It looks great." Ayla said.

"And your companions …?"

"I am Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey." Gandalf said.

"Never heard of you." Beorn said bluntly, looking down at Bilbo. "And what is he? He's not a dwarf is he?"

"Why no, Mr. Baggins here is a hobbit." Gandalf said, letting Beorn's slight roll off his back.

"What is a hobbit?"

"Not a dwarf." Ayla interjected.

"I accept that answer." said Beorn, "How come you're here?"

"We have a favor to ask of you." Ayla said.

"And what favor may that be?" Beorn asked.

"My companions and I are in need of your ponies, if you can spare a few." Ayla said and saw that Beorn held up his ax as he looked beyond her. Ayla looked over her shoulder to see Balin and Dwalin had come out. "Ah crap." she muttered.

"We must confess that several of our group are; in fact, dwarves." Gandalf said, trying to take control of the situation from Ayla. From there is just fell apart as the dwarves kept coming out two at a time until finally Thorin came out. Ayla sucked in her lips between her teeth to keep herself from screaming while Gandalf fumbled with his words.

Ayla clicked her tongue in annoyance as she glared up at the wizard. "What's the matter? Silver tongue turned to lead?" she all but mocked Gandalf as she stepped in front of him to mitigate the situation. "Beorn, we need your help."

With Ayla calming Beorn down, the skin-changer agreed to help them and gave the company his ponies to borrow on the condition that they do not take the ponies into the forest.

"Lady Healer," Beorn said, looking at Ayla upon one of his ponies. "Take heed as these lands have grown more dangerous since you last traveled them. Orcs have been seen gathering each day. An alliance has been made between the orcs of Moria and the sorcerer in Dol Guldur."

"You are not the first to warn me, thank you, Beorn." Ayla said, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Take care."

Beorn nodded and walked over to Thorin, looking at the dwarf sharply. "Give me your word that the Healer will come to no harm."

"I swear it on my honor that Ayla will stay safe." Thorin said.

They rode out, crossing the lands swiftly. Ayla and Gandalf led the company, knowing the way to Mirkwood. When they finally arrived they dismounted at the edge of the forest and began to unsaddle the ponies. Ayla stared up into the trees, sensing something was off. These weren't the woods she remembered, it felt…foul and foreboding, making the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stand on end. She shouldered her pack and walked to the entryway that led into the forest.

"Here lies our path through Mirkwood." Gandalf said.

"No sign of the orcs." Dwalin said, "We have luck on our side."

"Set the ponies loose. Let them return to their master." Gandalf ordered as he walked over to the gate and stood beside Ayla. "Are you ready?"

"What happened, Gandalf?" she asked, "Why does the forest feel…sick?"

"A darkness has crept into the woods since you've been away." Gandalf said.

"Is there no way around?" Bilbo asked.

"Not unless you want to travel two hundred miles north." Ayla said, looking back at the hobbit and feeling a mild headache being near him. She couldn't explain why but ignored it. "Cutting through the forest is the fastest way to Erebor."

Gandalf entered the woods and pulled aside overgrown ivy from a statue, seeing the mark of the necromancer graffiti on the stone. He looked back at Ayla who had also seen the mark, recognizing it. He turned and exited the forest quickly.

"Not my horse! I need it!" he said.

"You're not leaving us, are you?" Bilbo asked in disbelief.

"I would not do this unless I had to." Gandalf said sadly. "I'll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and key safe." he said, approaching his horse and then stopped to turn to Thorin. "Do not enter that mountain without me."

The company stood at the edge of the forest as it began to rain, now with Gandalf gone; they had to take extra precautions.

"You've lived here in the past, what should we expect?" Thorin asked, looking up at Ayla.

"This isn't the forest I remember, I advise that we stay on the stone path." Ayla said, "Otherwise if you stray you'll never find it again."

"I feel like there's more that you're not telling us." Bilbo said, sensing the thick, heavy magic in the air, making him fidgety.

"You're right," Ayla said, "The forest is alive, the air and waters are enchanted. You'll see illusions that aren't real that will try to lure you off the path. And if you stray, no one will be able to help you."

"Stay on the path. Got it." Bilbo said.

Ayla took the lead into the woods, knowing the path better than anyone present. Though she, too, remained cautious because she had always traveled with the elves through the woods, always protected from its magic. She just hoped that the forest hadn't forgotten her. They traveled deep into the woods until all light had been blocked out by the thick canopy of the trees. The deeper they went, the darker it felt, making them lose all sense of time. Their path soon became hard to see as they had to tread carefully with each step to make sure that they remained on course. The magic in the air was almost choking Ayla, making her lightheaded.

When they finally came to the bridge that would take them over the enchanted stream, they were met with a complication: The bridge was broken, forcing the company to find another way across.

"These vines look strong enough to cross." Kili said, making a move to start when Thorin stopped him.

"Kili! We send the lightest first." Thorin said, and all heads turned to Bilbo. As the hobbit began to test the strength of the vines as he crossed the stream Thorin looked up at Ayla. "Are you holding up all right?"

"I'm fine, but I don't think I can use the vines to cross." Ayla said.

"You'll make it across; I'll make sure of it." Thorin said.

"No, the gap isn't that wide. I think I can just jump across." Ayla said, walking onto what was left of the bridge to gage the distance with her eyes. She knew the forest was playing tricks on her, making the gap seem larger than it actually was. She took her pack off her shoulders and threw it across, seeing it land on the other side.

"Ayla, don't." Thorin said, trying to stop her as she walked back so that she could get a running start. "Ayla, NO!" he yelled, everyone stopping as they saw Ayla run and then leap across the gap of the bridge. Everyone held their breaths as their eyes followed her, watching as she landed on the other side as she rolled her body over the ground after landing. Everyone finally exhaled in relief when she made it safely. Thorin especially as he tried to reign in and calm his pounding heart.

Ayla waited for them on the other side, helping Bilbo first as he made it, shaking his head out of the fog.

"Something is not right, at all." he mumbled.

Once everyone had crossed safely they continued on. Their minds all becoming clouded as the stifling air and the lack of sense of time was beginning to take effect. It was difficult to not lose focus as it became harder to stay on the path.

"There! That way!" Thorin said, marching through the trees.

"Wait! Thorin! Stay on the path!" Ayla said, though she was just as affected by the woods as they all were. Soon they became lost, traveling in circles. Madness began to descend upon the group as they started to fight amongst each other.

"Stop it!" Bilbo said, trying to break the fights up.

"Bilbo," Ayla said tiredly, dropping to her knees to look at the hobbit. Her mind felt fuzzy and her headache had grown into a throbbing migraine for being so close to Bilbo. "Climb up the trees and tell us if you see anything."

Bilbo nodded and began to climb. Ayla shook her head again, trying to clear the fog as she leaned against the tree to balance her weight as she stood up. Her hand then was caught on something sticky. When she blinked her eyes a few times she saw a film of white, stringy threads covering the trees all around them. When she looked up she let out a scream as a giant spider descended upon her, grabbing her and wrapping her up in its web. She heard the others scream as they, too, were taken by the spiders. Ayla struggled against the strong fibers as panic flooded her brain and her adrenaline kicked in, telling her to fight, but she was also still fogged up from the forest's magic, making her weak and tired.

She heard the spiders hissing and clicking their fangs and then she suddenly felt herself dropping and then landing on the forest floor. She felt other struggling bodies landing all around her and she hoped it was the others as she struggled to rip the webs off of her.

"Ayla!" she heard Thorin as he cut through the webs and helped her out. The dwarves all took up their weapons and fought back against the spiders, though they, too, were weakened by the forest's magic. Thorin guarded Ayla against the spiders when suddenly arrows began to fly out of nowhere, striking the spiders. Looking up, Ayla saw the elves of the forest coming down from the trees, fighting off the spiders. One elf landed behind Ayla and killed a spider that was sneaking up from behind. When she turned she was met with a familiar face that also looked back at her in surprise. "Legolas?"

"Naneth!" Legolas said softly, before looking away and quickly shooting an arrow at another spider, striking it between its multiple eyes. Once the chaos of exterminating the giant spiders had ended, the company found themselves surrounded by elves, their sharp arrows pointed directly at them. One stepped forward, the Prince of the Realm, staring coldly down at the dwarves, his glare as cold as their color.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, dwarf." he demanded coolly, his arrow trained on Thorin.

Ayla quickly stepped in front of him. "Stop it. They are not your enemy."

"Lady Ayla," said Tauriel, bewildered to see her in the company of dwarves.

"Legolas, let the dwarves pass through the woods. Please." Ayla said.

"I cannot allow trespassers to wander freely through these woods and therefore we must take them as our prisoners." Legolas said in Sindarin, "I know these alliances are important to you but I must obey the orders of my King."

Ayla narrowed her eyes at him and placed her hands on her hips. "Your King orders their arrest?" she asked in the same language that had taken her years to master. "Of course he would. Why would I expect anything else from him?"

"Much has changed since you left. Had you stayed you would know." Legolas said, suddenly cold towards Ayla as he revealed to her that he, too, had been affected by her leaving. Legolas gave the order to take the dwarves' weapons, one elf bringing forth Thorin's sword to the prince, recognizing it immediately and glared down at Thorin. "Where did you get this?" he demanded.

"It was given to me." Thorin said.

"Not just a thief, but a liar as well." Legolas said.

"Enough!" Ayla said angrily, "Your prejudice is equally as disgusting."

"And your loyalties for these dwarves is misplaced." Legolas said before giving the order to take in the prisoners. The dwarves' hands were all tied in strong elven rope and were herded along like sheep. Ayla was the only one to not be treated like a prisoner as she followed behind Legolas and Tauriel through the forest.

Despite her anger and disappointment towards Legolas acting exactly like his father, her head, at least, was beginning to clear up in their presence as the magic of the forest left her. Upon entering through the gates Ayla was overcome by nostalgia as she took in the beautiful world around her, remembering it fondly. Unfortunately the circumstances she was in made her stomach feel like there was a lead ball in it as she grew nervous to see the one man she had been hoping to avoid. The last time she saw the Elvenking had left her heart shattered to pieces. She could only watch helplessly as everyone except for her and Thorin be taken away, down towards the dungeons while they continued onward towards the throne where Thranduil sat in his usual pompous manner.

He was still as beautiful as she remembered, looking so perfect and godly upon his throne carved into the root of an ancient tree. Upon his head was his seasonal crown of autumn leaves and berries, only enhancing his beauty. Though as distracting as his beauty was, his cold demeanor was what kept her from falling completely under his spell. His grey eyes locked with Ayla's brown ones, holding her gaze and freezing her in place, paralyzing her will to rebel.

"Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand." he began, his velvety voice wrapping itself around her as she and Thorin stood before him. Thranduil rose from his throne and descended the steps towards them, his gaze now fixed on Thorin. "A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon. I myself suspect a more prosaic motive. Attempted burglary or something of that ilk." The air around him had returned to that chill from when they first met his stare cold and his words just as icy. He clasped his hands behind his back as he looked down at Thorin as if the dwarf were a fly in his spiced wine. "You have found a way in. You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule. The King's Jewel; the Arkenstone."

He moved gracefully, standing before them, tall, proud, and incredibly arrogant. Everything that Ayla had once hated about him but now found it irresistibly sexy. She had to force herself to not look directly at him, trying her hardest to stay calm as old wounds began to slowly reopen, making her heart beat a hundred times per second. She felt a little light-headed.

"It is precious to you beyond measure. I understand that. There are gems in the mountain that I, too, desire. White gems of pure starlight." Thranduil's grey eyes didn't look away from Thorin, not betraying himself to the dwarf by glancing at Ayla as he placed a hand over his chest and bowed his head ever so slightly. "I offer you my help."

Thorin let out a low chuckle as he smirked. "I'm listening."

"I will let you go…if you but return what is mine." Thranduil said; keeping his eyes focused on Thorin.

"A favor for a favor." Thorin mused, seeing that he may have leverage after all.

"You have my word. One King to another."

"I will not trust…Thranduil…the Great King…to honor his word." Thorin said, his voice rising to echo throughout the Realm. "Should the end of all days be upon us! You! Who lack all honor! I have seen how you treat your friends." he said, looking pointedly to Ayla and then back at the Elvenking. "We came to you once, starving, homeless, seeking your help. But you turned your back! You turned away from the suffering of my people! And the inferno that destroyed us!"

Enraged, Thranduil swooped down on Thorin, lowering his head to be in his face. "Do not talk to be about dragon fire." he hissed, "I know its wrath and ruin. I have faced the great serpents of the north." he pulled back, standing tall again. "I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon. Even the Lady Ayla had warned him of his creeping madness. But he would not listen. You are just like him." he waved a hand and immediately two of his guards took hold of Thorin, dragging him away to the dungeons. "Stay here if you will…and rot. A hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf. I'm patient. I can wait."

He returned to his throne, sitting down upon it and resuming his previous posture. His eyes finally descended upon Ayla whom he had yet to decide her fate. He had not expected to see her again, especially not in the company of dwarves led by Thorin Oakeshield. He had thought Ayla would once more vanish into the wide world now that her son was grown and flown from the nest. But should he really be that surprised? After all, it was the dwarves she had ran off to, and it was because of the dwarves that she did not return. It was somewhat amusing, to see her like this. Dirty and travel-worn, covered in spiders webs, dead leaves and mud. It was almost a reflection of their very first encounter.

"Nothing to say?" he asked, wondering why she wasn't lashing out at him for his cruelty and selfishness. "Have the years away leashed your tongue?"

She looked up at him, showing him her stubbornness that he remembered. The defiance burning within her brown eyes. He knew the words were ready to come out from her mouth but still she said nothing. Denying him the backlash of her wit before her closed lips. He was not going to be made the fool in this game of wills as he waved his hand for another guard who took Ayla away.

xxxxx

Hours had gone by as Ayla sat in her old room. She had not been taken to the dungeons where her friends were being held. No, throwing her in the dungeon like the rest was too easy. Instead of being locked away in the cold dungeons, she was locked away in her old room, surrounded by the bare essentials again. Though she was comfortable unlike Thorin and his company. All of her things that had been left behind were either thrown away or still in Thranduil's wing, left to collect dust. It felt strange to be back, almost surreal as she stared out into the forest. The same smell of dirt and pine lingered in the air, but it did not mask the slight sourness of decay.

Earlier a servant had come in to fill her bath and bring her fresh clothes. It was a different servant, not her usual handmaiden Ester. She also had guards outside her door keeping her inside her room. No one would speak to her; inform her of her friends if they were all right or not. It was obvious that they had all been ordered to not say a word to her, which annoyed Ayla greatly, but then again it was probably his way of getting back at her for keeping her silence. But what could she have said to him? She didn't trust herself to say the right things as her mind flashed back to the last time she saw him. It had been for the best that she kept her mouth shut when she did, otherwise she probably would have been thrown in the dungeon.

And yet her heart ached for him.

xxxxx

(Past)

"We're here together on this day because…?" Ayla looked up from her menu at Pamela. They had both managed to get the same day off from the hospital they were training at, and lucky them, it was Valentine's Day. And the restaurant Pamela chose had a ceiling littered with red, pink and white balloons with glittery ribbons of the same colors streaming down, and when walking around they were annoyingly in your face. It was a nauseating décor of poor taste that would make Martha Stewart vomit in disgust.

"Because it's fun to go out on a couple's holiday with your best friend." Pamela said, "Besides, if we pretend to be a lesbian couple we might actually get a break from perverts tonight."

"That's shocking coming from you." Ayla said.

"Hi there, my name is Karl and I'll be your server tonight. Can I start you ladies with a drink?" said Karl, holding up a note pad and pen as he waited for their order. "May I recommend a glass of—"

"Red wine." they both said together without looking at Karl.

"Okay, and would you also like—"

"Leave the bottle." they said together. Karl wrote it down and walked away.

"So, I overheard you talking on the phone with your mom today. Everything all right?" Pamela asked. Pamela was very familiar with the strained relationship Ayla had with her mother.

"It's nothing unusual. She's just trying to interfere with my life again by telling me which field of medicine to pursue. She wants me to go into plastics now. Something about Jackson needing a nose job. Blah blah blah." Ayla said in annoyance.

"Doesn't she realize that you hate her?"

"I'm sure she knows but pretends to be ignorant."

"Why not just ignore her calls? That's what I do with my parents."

"It gives me a reason to vent, plus a part of me likes to piss her off. My favorite topic being what a disappointment I turned out to be."

"Shit and I thought my relationship with my parents was dysfunctional. Are you and Greg doing all right?"

"You're rather nosy tonight. What's it to you if we've been fighting?"

Pamela laced her fingers together atop of the table to keep them down; she had never liked Greg and had always been vocal about how Ayla deserved someone better. "You guys fight all the time, I don't understand how you can be on and off with him for a year now. He didn't even call you today."

Ayla shrugged her shoulders. "That's because we're off again. And this time for good. So how's your sex life?"

Pamela frowned, "Soryn, I'm serious; I'm really worried about you. You're never happy with him and as your friend I want to see you happy with someone who deserves someone as amazing as you."

"Pam, can we please drop this? This holiday was hard enough hiding alone in my apartment after breaking up with Greg again, and being dragged out here—reminded of what I don't have…I just want a night of no bullshit."

Their waiter returned then with two glasses and a bottle of house wine, pouring them each a glass and leaving the bottle at their table. "Are you ladies ready to order?"

"Can we have more time looking at the menu?" Pamela asked and Karl nodded his head.

"Of course, I'll be back." he said before dashing off to another table.

"You still have me, Ayla." Pamela said, reaching out and putting her hand on top of Ayla's. "You will always have me at your back."

Tears stung Ayla's eyes and she quickly pulled her hand away, taking her cloth napkin with dab at her eyes just as their waiter returned, looking a little uncomfortable at the sight of Ayla's tears.

"She's just crying because I proposed." Pamela said to Karl with a smile.

"Oh, um, congrats. I can come back again to give you both another moment." Karl said.

"Thanks." Pamela said.

Ayla managed to pull herself together and folded her napkin down on her lap. "I was actually ready to order."

xxxxx

(Present)

Thranduil had hoped that Ayla would come to her senses and see his reasoning for imprisoning the dwarves, though he shouldn't have been so surprised by her response. The way she stood with her arms crossed tightly in front of her, her shoulders stiff and tense, and her jaw set. She had turned away everyone who came to her door, not accepting food or water for the full night and day she had been there. She did not bathe in the bath that had been prepared for her, allowing the water to cool, and remained in her filthy clothes and the dried mud that had caked itself on her.

Even when still dirty with mud and sweat, and her dark brown hair looking almost black from being unwashed for days, she was still beautiful in his eyes. She was still Ayla. Thranduil took calculated steps towards her, watching her back intently as he approached. He knew she was aware of him; he made no secret of his entry into her space and settled himself to stand behind her.

"You have no right to treat them so poorly." she said, her voice tense.

"I have every right. They entered my kingdom. That is crime enough; the very fact that they're dwarves makes it more just." Thranduil said.

She whipped around to look at him, anger flashing through her eyes. Ah…finally, a reaction. "And throwing them in prison was your response?"

"I would not trust them so fully as you already have. What intentions do they have for awakening that dragon? It will only bring further ruin upon them and all who lay within the dragon's path of destruction. Will you allow that to happen? Watch as lives are destroyed all due to the ambitions of another dwarf's greed?"

She closed her eyes, reigning in her temper before opening them and looking up at him. "They lost everything. Their home, their family, their history…they're fading away."

"Then let them fade."

She looked at him, startled by his coldness towards the people he had once been allies with. She couldn't believe this was the same man, no, that's not right...this was the cold Elvenking she had first met all those centuries ago. Having resurfaced while she was away. "When did you become so heartless?"

"I am not the heartless one here." he said coldly, grabbing her upper arms firmly in his grip. "You left against my orders and then chose to never come back. I waited for you. Foolishly thinking that you would come back to me. Then I learn through reports that you had gone to the Blue Mountains to be with the dwarves where you remained for years before I found out by chance that you had gone to Rivendell where I find you raising someone else's son. You call me heartless, but it is you who is heartless…telling me you love me and then you run off with my heart." Fat tears spilled from her eyes and her bottom lip quivered but his hold on her remained. He needed answers.

Ayla looked into his eyes, "You know that I couldn't leave Aragorn…" she said, her voice soft and straining back from sobbing. "I couldn't leave him. He needed me."

"And after he was grown? Did you not think to return then? Were you still angry then?" he asked, his temper rising as he gave her shoulders a firm shake. "Answer me! Had you not once thought of me? Do you despise me so much?"

"I wanted to…but I couldn't come back." she choked out, her tears still falling.

"Tell me why!" he demanded, tightening his grip. "Why?"

"Because I was scared!" she blurted out, feeling her body tremble from the adrenaline pumping through her.

Thranduil was stunned speechless, not expecting the answer to pierce his heart like an arrow. Realization began to rise as the anger was suddenly replaced with something he had not felt since the death of their unborn child…heartache. She pulled away as soon as his grip became slack, backing away from him as her heart broke all over again. The shame of how many nights she had pined for him, how she would make plans to travel back to the Woodland Realm and even get as far as packing a bag but then chickened out in the end. The image of his back as he walked out the door in Rivendell always replaying in her mind.

Fear had held her back.

She was afraid that she was no longer good enough for him. That he deserved better. That she didn't deserve him and his love.

That she didn't deserve love at all.

She flinched when she felt his hands holding her face, his thumbs wiping away the tears as he tilted her face up to look at him. She saw in his eyes reflecting her pain, reflecting everything she had wanted to spare him of. "You held onto this pain…all on your own?" he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. "Did you think I would have turned you away?" She squeezed her eyes tightly, more tears falling. "Ayla, look at me." she slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him. She looked up into his grey eyes, showing her that he still cared. His mask melting away like ice on a hot summer day. Thranduil closed the gap that was between them and wrapped his arms around her shoulders and back, hugging her close and closing his eyes as he released a sorrowful sigh.

Had he truly given her such a reason to be afraid?

"I'm sorry," she hiccupped, hugging his waist tightly. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry..."

He allowed Ayla to cry until she had no tears left to shed. He took her inside and laid her on the bed; sitting beside her as she laid her head on his lap and he stroked her oily hair until she fell asleep. He watched her sleep, taking in her pallor and the dark circles under her eyes. The hollowness of her cheeks, the dryness of her skin and her chapped lips, his earlier rage had been extinguished by her tears. Now all that remained were charred wounds of hurt pride at the failure to recognize that she had been suffering as much as he.

"You broke my heart...and though I thought ill of you I had been waiting for you." he said softly. All that was left was for them to heal together. Perhaps now they will have the time.

xxxxx

Ayla awoke hours later, alone, and feeling emotionally raw. She recalled everything, Thranduil's anger towards her and then her confession of being a coward. What did he think of her now? What else did she say? She couldn't remember and she was afraid…incredibly afraid now that he knew, and she was afraid of how he will then look at her. She didn't want him to look at her with pity. What should she do? Jump out the window and make a run for it? That seemed too cliché.

She bathed in the full tub; the water cold now and making her wish she had bathed when it was still hot. The spider webs tangled in her hair were a challenge to get out, and by the time she was clean the bath water was murky from the mud and filth from the woods. She changed into the clothes that had been provided for her, one of her old gowns. It was simple and comfortable to wear, light and warm, but not practical for traveling like her other clothes she wore. Once she was clean and dressed there was little else for her to do but sit around and wait. Her damp hair had been combed through and hung over one shoulder to air dry. She wanted to leave her room but knew there had been guards posted outside her door, keeping her trapped inside.

She went to the fireplace and lit a fire to warm her room, and as the fire slowly grew she grabbed a throw blanket from the chaise lounge and wrapped it around her shoulders before returning to the fireplace and sat down beside it, letting the warm heat dry her hair a little faster. She looked up when she heard the door open, expecting to see Thranduil again but was surprised to see instead Legolas. He walked over to her and sat down beside her. They sat there quietly, and Ayla could tell he had something to say. She recalled the sharp words they had exchanged in the forest and vaguely wondered if he had come to apologize or wanting an explanation. Either way she felt tense with anticipation.

"I'm sorry, Naneth." he began, and Ayla felt relief in her chest. "I should never have spoken to you like that. I know that you were merely protecting them and I had allowed my bitterness to cloud my judgment."

Ayla leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's all right. I deserved it after abandoning you the way I did."

"You did what you thought was right back then, I see that now." he said, "You put us all to shame by showing how much heart you have by putting others above yourself. You have more honor than I do most times."

"I never wanted to hurt you or anyone, but I was just so angry at him."

"Was that the reason why you didn't come back? Because you were angry with my father?"

"At first…but the further I got, the more I realized how childish I've been for letting my pride drive me away. But then…something happened and because of it I couldn't bring myself to come back willingly."

"What happened?"

Ayla fell silent, feeling her chest squeeze and her stomach tighten. She was feeling her anxiety returning.

"Naneth?"

She took in a calming breath. "I...it's too complicated."

"Complicated, like raising another man's child?" Legolas asked.

Ayla groaned and wondered what "version" of the story Thranduil told Legolas. "I adopted him and raised him as my own because he had no one." She lifted her head up and looked at him. "Estel came ten years after the dragon first attacked. He saved me in so many ways."

Seeing her smile at the mention of her adopted son, it made Legolas feel worse for having harbored so much bitterness towards her, thinking so low of her to have broken his heart and that of his father's. He smiled softly back at her. "He was lucky to have you as his mother. As was I."

She turned her head and looked into the fire. "It's funny how alike you two are. You two would have gotten along so well."

"Where is he now?"

"Hmm…that's an excellent question. Last I heard he was somewhere in Rohan but that was months ago, I'm sure he's moved on by now. Of course I told him to not use his real name."

"What name is he using?"

"I forget, but it was definitely not very imaginative."

"I'd like to meet him."

"I'm sure you will, he has a habit of showing up unexpectedly and always hungry." Ayla said with a slight giggle.

Legolas smiled, "Like you?"

She let out a laugh at that. "Yeah, like me."

Legolas eventually left, leaving Ayla feeling less burdened. Eventually sitting on the floor put her legs to sleep and then moved to the chaise lounge, laying on her side and closing her eyes. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep, her mind wandering to the dungeon and to her friends locked before bars. The troubling thought kept her from sleeping too deeply and when she next woke she was met with Tauriel at her side.

"I do not mean to disturb you, My Lady." she said, lowering her head in submission even though Ayla was the prisoner. "But I've come for your council on a delicate matter."

Ayla rubbed her eyes as she pushed herself up into a sitting position and then surprised the Captain of the Guard by hugging her tightly. "There's no need for formalities, Tauriel. We're still friends, right?"

"Of course, My Lady." Tauriel said, hugging Ayla back before the other finally released her.

"What do you need?" Ayla asked. The Captain of the Guard looked into her eyes and showed that she was troubled by something.

"The spiders from the woods, the ones that attacked you, more will come and I wish to go to their source and eradicate them completely. But Lord Thranduil forbids it."

"Why would he forbid that?"

"Because the spiders come from Dol Guldur, and he forbids us from leaving our borders. He has no concern of the darkness spreading to the outside world."

Ayla bit the inside of her cheek, her earlier woes gone and replaced with dread as terrible memories of that placed resurfaced. She remembered it as an evil place where orcs had kidnapped her and killed her baby while it was still inside her. "I can't help you, Tauriel. I'm powerless to do anything."

"You can try to persuade him. Show him that actions must be taken to protect not only our lands but the rest of the world as well."

She gave her a rueful smile. "I doubt he'll listen to me. But I share your concern, Tauriel."

The elf looked down in disappointment, but she understood Ayla's situation. Her current position. "Thank you for your time, My Lady." she stopped when Ayla took her hand.

"Are they all right? The dwarves?" Ayla asked. Tauriel raised her eyes up at Ayla.

"They are as well as they can be in the dungeons."

Ayla rose to her feet, feeling s surge of strength. "Will you take me to them? Please? I need to see for myself."

The red-haired elf hesitated a moment before she smiled kindly at Ayla. "It's the least I can do for everything you've done for me." She helped Ayla slip away from her room through the balcony, avoiding being seen by other guards as they made their way towards the dungeons. Once there, Tauriel looked down the steps that lead towards the cells where the dwarves were being held. Seeing no guards around. "Be quick, my Lady."

Ayla practically flew down the stairs, looking into each cell and checking in on them all. They were all cold and starved in their cells, but at least they were all okay for the time being. She came to Thorin's cell last, finding the dwarf pacing back and forth.

"Thorin," Ayla called softly, getting his attention. He rushed to the cell doors and reached out through the bars for her hands. "Your hands are like ice."

"I'll be fine. They're not mistreating you, are they?" he asked, looking up at her, noticing for the first time the dark circles under her eyes. Ayla shook her head and dropped down to her knees, wishing she could help them escape but her powers were limited and she was being watched constantly. Thorin reached out and touched her cheek, raising her face up to look at him. "Ayla…"

"Where is Bilbo? I didn't see him in here." she whispered.

"I don't know where he is, but Ayla…you must stay safe. Your part in this company…I will never forgive myself if you got hurt because of my ambitions."

"Thorin, I'm going to find a way to get you out of here."

"Please, Ayla," he pressed closely into the bars as he lowered himself to eye level with her. He lowered his voice so that only she could hear him. "I love you too much to ask that you risk your life for me. I would rather die first than see you get hurt by my selfishness. As much as it pains me to say this, you're safest here with the elves. They will at least protect you."

She looked into his eyes sadly, unable to say another word as her voice was paralyzed with the fear of saying something she would come to regret. She knew he loved her, he told her every chance he got but she couldn't return the same feelings. In truth, she never did. Her heart forever remained with Thranduil. He pulled her face close and kissed her through the bars before pulling back to look into her eyes one more time.

"My Lady," came Tauriel's voice, alerting Ayla that her time was up. Standing up she looked at Thorin one last time before she hurried back up the steps, passing by the other cells but unable to look at the occupants. Tauriel helped her back to her room, again keeping out of sight from other elves.

"Thank you, Tauriel." Ayla said softly.

"Will you be all right?" Tauriel asked, concerned of how upset Ayla looked.

"No, but I will get through this." Ayla said, "It's just hard to see my friends treated this way while I'm sitting in relative comfort. It's not right."

Alone again in her room, Ayla was resigned to sitting up on the chaise lounge, leaning against her raised knees as she stared out the window. Seeing her friends locked up in the dungeon, it was more upsetting than she had anticipated it to be. She wanted nothing more than to steal the keys and free them but she knew that she would get caught and the guards would stop her before she could even get the first key ready. She didn't want to dwell on such unpleasant thoughts; she would rather be in denial and pretend everything was all right. But her mind disobeyed her wish to avoid upsetting thoughts. She felt so stupid, leaving him out of anger all those years ago. If she had simply returned then maybe… No. No, she couldn't punish herself and dwell on the different scenarios she had already gone through in her head. What was done is done. This was all her fault. The rift between them was her doing, but it was too late to change the past. All she could hope for was his forgiveness, if he was in a forgiving mood. If she was lucky he might just never bring it up and they can both move on with their lives…separately.

Separately…

She then thought of Thorin and touched her lips lightly with her fingertips. The kiss in the dungeons…she was a horrible person. Wretched and undeserving of such devotion. The two men in her life…she already broke their hearts too many times. She felt like crying again and hated herself for feeling so much self pity. Why couldn't she go back to the uncaring bitch she was before? Why did she have to change so much?

The day went by slow and quiet. The servant from before returned; bringing a bowl of fruit and nuts and setting them on the table before leaving quietly. Hunger shot through her as she picked up an apple and took a large bite from it, the crisp crunch and the explosion of juice in her mouth only made her hunger for more. But she had to pace herself, knowing her limits and forced herself to slow down and chew each bite thoroughly lest she choked on a chunk (she had already died once that way and that had been embarrassing to come back from).

She walked back out onto the veranda, resting her elbows on the rail as she looked out at the changed forest. She had been told the forest was sick with a darkness from Dol Guldur. She had been in Middle Earth shortly after the defeat of Sauron, recalling the suspicion and wariness of the people back then. Her arrival and mysterious origins made people paranoid and fearful of her, she had only been lucky when King Isildur had seen what she did for his soldiers and took pity on her for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If the rumors were true then they were on the verge of another dark age.

If she listened closely enough she could hear the distant merriments of the elves of the Realm, celebrating Mereth Nuin Giliath: the Feast of Starlight. Out of all the elven holidays (and there were so few), she enjoyed this one the most. She closed her eyes and remembered fondly the beautiful songs that were sung, the joyful laughter and the spiced wine. And his beautiful face, smiling at her as they danced together under the stars.

"I see you're finally eating." came Thranduil's voice, pulling Ayla back to the present as she opened her eyes and turned around to face him, her half-eaten apple still in her hand as she returned inside. He walked into her room, setting down a bottle of wine and two silver goblets on the table next to the bowl of fruit and nuts.

"I wasn't expecting you to come back so soon." she said softly, watching him as he filled the two goblets of the ruby liquid, the sweet fragrance of the wine reaching her nose. She was nervous to be in his presence again, wondering what to do or say or act. Should she simply act like usual? Use playful banter like they used to? No, even the thought of it felt uncomfortable.

"And why wouldn't I?" he asked, picking up the goblets and walking around the small table towards her, handing her one which she took. She set her half-eaten apple back into the bowl and took a sip of the spiced wine. Sweet and tart, just like she remembered. He watched her carefully for a moment, taking in her timid posture. "I want to clear the air between us," he began, gaining her attention as she looked up at him. "I had allowed my resentment towards you to blind me when last we spoke and I know I had frightened you. For that I am deeply sorry. Had I known about the burden you had been carrying…I should have set my pride aside and gone after you, perhaps then the outcome would have changed."

Ayla looked down into her cup, feeling a shadow of the pain she used to feel echoing in her chest. "I'm sorry, too. I regret a lot things and running from you is the one I regret the most."

"Are you willing to start over? Be a part of this Realm again at my side?"

She felt like weeping at that very moment as she closed her eyes to hold back the tears. When she opened them again to look up into his grey eyes, she felt nothing but warmth spreading out from her chest, soothing the remnants of past hurt. She allowed herself to open her heart again, hoping beyond hope that this time…this time she will get it right. But then she thought of Thorin and the others still locked away in the dungeon. She lowered her eyes, suddenly feeling conflicted between her desire and the promise she made.

Sensing her inner struggle, Thranduil raised his hand to cup the side of her face. He understood her dilemma, especially when he knew that she was helping Thorin on his foolish quest. Her heart was too big and her net of generosity was cast too far for her own good. He had to make her see that her role with the dwarves is done. He set his cup down and took hers and added it to the table before he drew her close, holding her gently in his embrace.

"Ayla, is it worth risking your life for them?" he asked quietly while stroking her hair. "You owe them no loyalties."

"I made a promise to help them through the forest, that was all." she said, "As soon as they're safely out of the forest then my part is done."

Of course she would promise such a thing. How could he have thought otherwise? "Then it's a shame that your promise will go unfulfilled." he said, pulling his warmth away from her as he picked his goblet up once more, taking a few swift steps towards the open archway that led out to the veranda where the moonlight shined through, casting its soft glow onto him.

Ayla felt a swirl of insult and embarrassment rise from the pit of her stomach. She felt so stupid. Why did she think otherwise? "Clear the air," he said, inviting her back to his side with gentle touches and seductive words to lower her guard. He was obviously toying with her, pulling on the strings of her emotions, using her pain and guilt against her. A tear fell down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away while she struggled to rally the rest from pouring from her eyes.

"You're so cruel." she said softly, knowing he could hear her.

"Am I?" he asked, approaching her again, circling around her like she was his prey. Reenacting their first meeting when she first came to the Woodland Realm all those centuries ago. "I am not the one giving that dwarf hope where there is none. I've seen how Thorin Oakenshield looks at you; I know it was he whom you have been with in the Blue Mountains. Possibly warming his bed to further insult me. Though years have passed and you more than likely grew bored of that dwarf, you had then ran off to Rivendell where you raised another man's child. Now you yet again lead him on, dangling the treat in front of him just far enough where he can barely reach. You call me cruel yet you are the cruelest of all."

She swallowed a lump in her throat, the sweetness of the wine on her tongue now sour. The way he summarized her life after leaving him, making her out to be nothing more than a gold digger looking for sympathy. It was unfair of him to put it in such a harsh way.

"It is not my intent to cause you more heartache," he said softly, stopping in front of her. "But you need to open your eyes to the truth. Should Thorin and his company of dwarves awaken the dragon, then they will bring about more ruin and heartache, and you will once more run away with your misplaced feelings of guilt. You have given too much of yourself and how has the world thanked you? The humans have driven you from their cities with fire and violence. The dwarves use you for their greed and ambition. How much longer do you plan to remain ignorant?"

She was powerless under his scrutinizing stare as the tears she had fought to keep back spilled forth and cascaded down her cheeks. What could she say to redeem herself when he stripped her raw to the bone?

She couldn't look at him as she lowered her head.

"You've made your point," she croaked, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. She walked away from him, needing physical space before she did something she was going to regret. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling like she was about to crumble into a deep black void

"Ayla…"

"WHAT?!" she snapped, whirling around to glare at him, showing him that she had been humiliated enough. "What more can you say to make me feel worse about myself?! You've already brought up how I'm a horrible person! You've made it clear that I'm a slut and undeserving of anyone to love me! Not to mention you're practically calling me stupid for trying to help people! How about you hit me where it really hurts next and say how those orcs killing our baby was my fault, too? That'll do it!"

Thranduil set his goblet down again on the table before stalking towards her, seeing her shoulders stiffen up as she backed away from him until she hit the wall. He raised his arms, bracing them on either side of her, trapping her in place as he looked into her teary eyes. Her face was red from holding back her sobs as she physically trembled under his stare. This wasn't how he wanted this conversation to go. He was trying to mend things but at the mention of the dwarves—how she still intended to help them—he couldn't hold back. If she was a cruel temptress then he was a ruthless tyrant, stinging her with guilt like a whip.

He may as well have struck again like he did after learning she had slept with Thorin. In reflection she had admitted to it instead of hiding it and he had been so blinded by her betrayal he refused to stop and think about what he had done to drive her into another man's bed. But it had been too late then, because Ayla had ran away after that and for that he was to blame.

"I will never blame you for the loss of our child." he said softly, bringing his head down to touch his forehead to hers. A soft sob escaped passed her lips and she covered her mouth with her hand, feeling herself fall apart in front of him. Thranduil raised his head and wrapped her in his arms again. He hated to see her like this, to be the one to make her cry but she was like him; needing to be told the truth up front with nothing censored."Your compassion and kindness is admirable, but it is also your greatest weakness. It is one of the reasons why I love you."

He felt the trembling of her shoulders lessen and then finally calm down, and they stayed like that for a few long minutes. He rubbed her back in soothing circles and pressed his lips to her temple. Regardless of their past hurt, Thranduil held onto the hope that this time she will stay. He wanted them to go back to those happier days when they were so very much in love.

"I'm sorry," he heard her whisper. She raised her head to look up at him. "Do you forgive me? Please say you do. Having you hate me hurts more than any—" he cut her off with a searing kiss. When he pulled back enough to look into her eyes, he saw her glassy brown eyes searching his.

"Nin mel," he said, stroking her cheek with the back of his knuckles. She was not the one in need to apologize. Thranduil had always known that he was the one that had started this spiraling path for them both, because he was the one who broke his promise first. "May the stars tonight burn bright with jealousy." He kissed her again, this time slowly, taking his time as he moved his lips against hers, showing her that he forgave her and more. Hands searched over their clothed bodies, the heated tension from earlier now replaced with rising desire as they made up the only way they knew how. With their clothes flying off in record time, Thranduil picked Ayla up and carried her to the bed. With the covers of the silky sheets over them, they laid in each other's arms, both knowing that they had all the time in the world.

She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and exhaled a deep breath as the warmth continued to spread between them. His heart, that strong, steady, eternal organ, pounded with a familiarity that made her ache for all the time they'd spent apart. There was no way it had only been sixty years. It felt closer to a thousand. Yet, still, she wondered idly if this had all happened too fast. Her mind and heart had barely had the time to prepare, and seemed to be struggling to accept that what was happening around her was truly real. For all the perfection of his body against hers, there were still words between them that needed to come. Ayla wasn't sure where to start, but they both knew it was in his eyes and hers, in the restraint and caution of their bodies.

Her head rolled back and she closed her eyes while her mouth gaped open in ecstasy, feeling him fill her completely, his thrusts were controlled and tight. She moaned softly, her legs hugging his sides and her hands running over every part of him that she could reach. She wanted more of him, she wanted all of him and she wanted to give all of herself to him.

"Thranduil, don't hold back." she said, looking up into his eyes.

His eyes flashed with smoldering desire. He locked his fingers with hers, pinning her hands to the bed by her head, holding them there, and thrust deep and hard, closing his eyes at the sensation, hearing her gasp and smiling in satisfaction at the sound. I want to hear you gasp when I do. Once. Twice. And then again.

So good. He opened his eyes to find her watching him.He slowly lowered his head to kiss her. He continued the movement, faster and deeper, and she matched her pace to his. He released her arms, moving his hands to either side of her, bracing himself higher so he could thrust deeper. She cried out when he did and he smiled again, watching her now, still moving, but watching every expression on her face. They were both perspiring now.

"Don't stop." she pleaded. "Oh, please don't stop." Something was building inside her, an impossibly perfect something. She tossed her head back, biting at her lip.

Just the sight of her. "Ayla." he moaned. He was so close.

"So close." she gasped out echoing his thoughts. "Don't stop." she said again. She gripped his forearms feeling the muscle flex as he moved, using it to brace herself so she could meet his every thrust. They were moving faster, harder now and she was positively writhing beneath him. He knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer. He slipped his hand between them and with just the slightest pressure, just a few strokes of his thumb against her clitoris and she cried out clutching at his arms, clenching around him and arching off the bed and then he was coming too, a release, that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside and he couldn't help the hoarse cry of her name as he collapsed on top of her. Her arms went immediately around him.

After a moment he pushed himself up to look at her. She was flushed and her mouth was swollen from his kisses. Perspiration matted her dark hair to her face and she eyes were half-lidded. He slowly pulled out of her and rolled off to the side with a satisfied groan before pulling Ayla to him, holding her in his arms.

She breathed in his scent, missing the smell of earth and spice. "I was afraid that things might be too different. That maybe you wouldn't want me back." She nuzzled in deeper and ran her fingers along the plains of his smooth chest. She had tried not to nurse too many fantasies of taking him back. Their relationship was constantly up and down and she always felt insecure that she wasn't good enough for him.

"Don't ever think that." he said, his brows furrowing until the little crease at the bridge of his nose formed. Ayla melted inwardly a little bit as she realized how desperately she missed that. And those lips remained as exquisite as ever.

"Then I'll stop thinking that." she answered with a gentle smile.

He squeezed her tightly, crushing her against his chest. "I can feel you in my arms but I can still barely believe you're really here." he breathed.

A firm palm found her jaw, urging her face up to his, her lips immediately captured in a hard kiss. She sighed deeply, a wave of relief flooding through her chest and down to her toes. How she had missed his kisses. Her whole body began to awaken again as his mouth took hers over, the warmth of his skin breathing life back into her cold-numbed limbs. She squirmed in closer, tilting her head and welcoming his tongue, returning his kiss with a slow deliberation. God, he felt so good, tasted so good, so much like she remembered. So warm and soft and strong, his touch both desperate and tender.

His pillowy lips pulled and teased at hers, suckling and pressing, his breath coming hot through his nose as the intensity grew and smoldered. His kisses pulled her in, an undertow removing the ground from beneath their bodies, tossing her into a roiling, tumultuous sea of memory and desire. She tried to calm her body, not get so caught up that they forgot to say the things they needed to, but she wasn't sure how much of that there was. The situation had always been impossible for both of them since they were equally stubborn. What more could be said or done now but to move forward, to reclaim what time was left?

"Nin mel," he breathed, looking deeply into her eyes. She cupped his cheek, feeling an intense ache grow within her, a need to consume and be consumed. Her body was moving against his even as she tried to order it to be still. The scorching heat of his skin, the call of her body to join with his, it would not be silenced. Sixty years. There was so much time to make up for. What was the point of waiting any longer when she'd already been waiting so very long? "Please, don't ever just disappear like that again."

She shook her head as his mouth found her neck, skimming tauntingly up to her lips as his body pressed in deeper against hers. Her legs had gone numb due to the insistent throbbing within her thighs, a torturous absence of him inside her that overpowered all other sensation. An aching hunger that radiated outward, demanding to be sated.

"Home…I'm home…" she whispered as she pressed the full length of herself against him, letting her eyes roll closed. Yes, that's what this was. That's what he was. No word could describe it more perfectly.

She pushed him fully onto his back and she climbed on top of him, straddling his hips as she obeyed the siren call of her body without question or hesitation. Even if she crashed upon the rocks and never recovered, she couldn't have denied the song that was luring her in. Her thighs were flooded with readiness, already halfway to the finish line before the solid mass of him ever made even the lightest contact. She found his mouth again as his hands found the curve of her hips and ground their sex together. Ayla reached down between them and grabbed his hard cock, guiding it to her entrance and completely swallowed him inside her. His tongue penetrated at the same moment that his manhood did, flaying her open with a searing peal of sensation that streaked straight through, skewering up her chest and forcing a cry from her throat. Even the raging heights of lovemaking they'd achieved years earlier had not prepared her for the instant intensity contained within her body at their rejoining. Her body knew, every cell in her singing and rejoicing: she was home.

At some point the blankets were gone, having escaped the writhing mass of flesh that twisted and coiled its way toward the heavens. As soon as flesh was exposed it was claimed again, by a hand or a mouth or the wrapping of legs and the squirming of muscles, pushing closer, finding the furthest reaches within the other possible. She had not realized how hard she'd clawed in her desperation to get him closer until she saw a faint smear of red on his shoulder. On her throat his mouth made a tight seal and suckled, biting down her shoulder and devouring the sensitive flesh as his hips thrust hard into hers. He palmed the soft flesh of her breasts, squeezing until her nipples smarted with a thrilling sting. Her hands found his buttocks and rode the waves of his thrusts, rocking a steady rhythm that devastated the aching center within her, her nerves quickly fulminating into buzzing shards of white.

His body entangled within hers was a marvel; smooth expanses of fuzz-softened flesh that bowed over firm hills of muscle, a palpable urgency driving him to cover every part of her with every part of him. He was heavy and careful, abandoned and present. Thorough, corded arms kept her right up against him as his hands got reacquainted with her curves; while kiss reddened lips claimed her mouth and then scorched across her skin. It was everything she remembered, and so very much more.

"Thranduil," she breathed, needing to hear it spoken aloud. For so long she hadn't even allowed herself even the indulgence of his name. But it had always been in her heart, forced into dormancy by time and the sting of loss. Now it spilled forth on its own, escaping its cage and rolling off her tongue as easily as a sigh.

His smoky, velvety voice crooned agonized responses into her ear. Her name, beautiful words of love, whines, whimpers and moans, as his body wrenched control away from his mind and heaved him into a shuddering, keening climax. He bruised her thighs with a barely restrained hand and pulsed his hips hard against her as he finished, straining against the limits of her inner walls while cupping her head and holding her mouth in a deep kiss.

She wasn't ready for it to be over, her body still blazing, still crying out with the desire for more. The drought of touch had become just another droning discomfort that she edged out of her consciousness on a day to day basis. But the truth had always been that if she couldn't have the man she really wanted, she had no real interest in having anyone. And even though she'd just feasted, she still felt starved.

He collapsed beside her and she rolled into the cradle of his chest, breathing in the light scent of sweat and the musky spice that was his scent. She stayed wrapped around him, thighs securing his pelvis against hers, belly to belly, mouth to mouth. The pounding of her heart as it slowed was drowned out almost completely by his, and she contented herself to just continue to kiss him while they calmed, threading her fingers through his hair, tracing the dark arches of his brows, the little divot in the flesh below his bottom lip. Reacquainting herself to his face again, his skin, his scent, his touch.

"Is this real?" she asked dazedly.

He let out a soft laugh. "I hope so."

Somewhere in it all, she briefly slept and when she woke, the light outside the windows had changed, the direction of the shadows cast through the windows telling her that it was still night with just a few hours left until dawn. Thranduil breathed quietly beside her, his lids drooping while lightly picking through her hair and tracing the lines of her neck with his fingertips. Every few seconds he paused to place a kiss on her temple. She moaned as the mists of sleep dissolved, revealing bodies still entwined, his half erect cock still nestled in the slick folds of her sex. She couldn't help but resume rubbing and writhing against him, moving her hips to slide her awakening slit along the growing length of him. The warm cover of his roving hands only spurred her on, sliding over her breasts, down her ribs to her navel and then around her hips to grasp firm handfuls of buttocks. There was no stopping, no being still. Thranduil was here, the Elvenking still loved her, her agony was over and they were going to be together.

"My beloved," he whispered as he ran the pad of his thumb over the firm point of a nipple. Almost deliriously, he rotated his hips, finding a slow, languorous entry into her body. His eyes were dark and glazed; his saturated voice the musical manifestation of desire. This time they would go slow, she decided. She would draw it out and savor every second. She slid a hand over the sharp angle of his jaw, and held his face before hers, gazing deep into his grey eyes as they slowly bucked and rocked together. He breathed out, and she breathed him in, inhaling warmth and musk and the scent of sex. His broad shoulders flexed as he braced himself on one arm and dragged slow flames of pleasure out of the depths of her, sending them dancing across her skin. They found an unhurried rhythm, and she closed her eyes for a moment to focus on the rapturous sensation of his thickness gliding, pushing its way deeper, and landing upon tender, neglected places that confused twinges of pain for sparks of pleasure.

She took his lips again, the tip of his tongue gently breaching the boundaries of her mouth and running hot and soft along her lips. He struck electric jolts of need down into the depths of her stomach with every flick, every deep drink of her mouth. A throbbing ache welled up around her heart, and she found herself gasping for breath as she mourned for all their lost time, mourned for all those cold, empty nights that could have been warm and full of the love that she didn't get to give.

She handed herself completely over to this god of pleasure, losing her mind in the tenderness of his touch, in the building sighs and groans, the sweet, escalating turmoil of their gyrating bodies. She clutched him close with every ounce of her strength and slowly the storm within her calmed, as her thoughts turned from the past to the present and slowly leaning towards the future as doors of possibilities opened up for them.

He came hard, pinning her against the bed as the slow burn of their lovemaking rose to an unexpected inferno, driving her deeper and deeper into the down mattress and rattling the bed frame against the wall. She broke open and spilled out a chorus of wild, wanton cries, welcoming the driving force of his hips, of his cock, of his mouth as she continued to shatter beneath him, her orgasm cascading through her bones with a delicious violence, plastering her flat and helpless at his body's complete domination of her. She groaned delirious yeses as he slammed into her, each thrust shaking ecstatic shrieks of pleasure from that aching center of nerves, pushing her up and over the precipice of control, satisfying a need sixty years in the making.

Afterward she lay trembling and panting, the muscles of her legs quivering like jelly, her skin drenched in a salty layer of sweat that matted her hair to her face. She turned to him and smiled. All tension had been pried loose from her muscles, all doubt that things might not be the same as they once had been, completely destroyed. She beamed warmly at the pink flush in his cheeks and the stormy wildness of his eyes, and she thanked the universe for bringing her back to him. But in the back of her mind there was the ever nagging voice, reminding her that her promise had not yet been completed. But how can she help Thorin and his dwarves when she had made yet another promise to her love that she would never leave him again?

xxxxx

(Past)

It was rare to get snow in Seattle during the winter, since it usually just rained. But when it snowed, it SNOWED; which made driving in Seattle incredibly risky since the snow had frozen overnight, creating sheets of ice. Salt would be sprinkled on the sidewalks but the road itself—that was at the driver's own risk. Luckily for Ayla, owning a car when you live in Seattle is virtually pointless when everything was either walking distance or a bus ride away. And that was the case for her that morning. Walking to work was convenient when she only lived on Capital Hill and her workplace was just two hills down and four streets over.

As per usual, she stopped in the coffee shop on the corner, black coffee, extra hot, one pack of sugar mixed in. From there, she would cross the street on First Hill. It was early, and it was still fairly dark outside, looking no different than night time. The streets were practically empty say for early birds like her and the homeless people curled up in their dirty sleeping bags on stoops. She took a cautious sip of coffee as she crossed the street when the loud blare of a truck horn sounded coming her way. Looking up, her eyes widened as the truck wheels had no traction on the icy hill and the idiot driver didn't have his headlights turned on.

"Ayla!" she heard someone scream.

The last Ayla saw was white.