A/N: It has taken a much longer time for me to get back to writing again. I hope to resume without further delay. As I stated before, the story will unfold slowly. Please bear with me. And thank you for reading, for comments and for favoriting me. :)

West of Misty Mountains. October 2, SA 721

THRANDUIL stood watching the swans take flight over the silver meres created by the rivers flowing down from the mountains.

They had camped just above a waterfall where the waters from the Misty Mountains dropped into silvery mists into the lowlands. From where he stood, at the top of the waterfall, he could see the fleet of swans gliding in and out of the swirling morning mists. It was like a glassy, gray sea except for occasional treetops that poke through them like islands.

Celebrimbor and Celeborn agreed, for the first time, to travel further up. The scouts had returned to report a more elevated plain where two rivers from the mountain converged. As for Thranduil, he was leaving the group to travel south with Durion and a few of the Sindarin warriors who had come with him.

Wake up, sleepyhead. Thranduil interjected his thoughts, although he knew Elrond was not awake to sense him, if at all.

Ever since Thranduil emptied his mind to Elrond, they could communicate through Sanwe-latya. But perhaps due to the limitation of their hroa (body) and the weakness of individual powers, their ability to communicate with each other through their minds was limited. It was not at all the way his mother was able to communicate with him. Her spiritual powers had been much greater than his, and despite the rigorous training of his mind that his mother had put him through, his innate powers had never been able to match that of his mother.

Of course, it didn't help that Elrond must be sleeping. The Half-elven was never a morning person. Elrond stayed awake long through the nights reading and doing whatever he does, and had a harder time getting up in the mornings. Thranduil, on the other hand, had a difficult time sleeping and often was up before anyone else did.

The blond Sinda looked up as two doves, light gray as the evening mists, flew and sat down on his outstretched arm.

"Ready to travel?" Thranduil fingered their soft feathers one after another as they cooed softly as they drew their heads together, rubbing them.

They were a pair of messenger doves Elrond had given him as a parting present. His friend had raised them at the window of his chambers. He said they are special birds, brought from Valinor to Middle-earth. Only a few of them existed on Middle-earth as they were difficult to breed. Unlike the carrier pigeons, these doves found their way back not only to the place they were raised but also to the place where their mate is. So, by keeping one of the pair close at hand, Thranduil could send and receive messages to and from Elrond even if his home changed in the future.

Home.

Thranduil turned toward the Misty Mountains to the east. The snow-covered mountains in front of him were the only hindrance now that stood between him and his father. In a matter of days, he will get to see his father again. He took in a breath to calm his hammering heart. Just a few more days.

The thought of meeting his father again after centuries… His throat thickened. Thranduil wondered if the forest in his father had woken from its winter slumber. His own winter had been long and bitter, and he knew his father's losses had been greater than his.

Thranduil gazed at the daunting height of the mountains where the highest peaks were already covered in snow and hidden in the clouds.

"That mountain range is quite impressive," a soft voice said from behind him.

"Well, those are the mountains that kept some of my kin back from traveling to Beleriand those many years ago."

"I always wondered how a mountain could sunder people, but now that I see it, I understand." Lassiel walked over to stand next to him.

"You are up early."

"I didn't want to let you go without saying goodbye." Lassiel turned to look up at Thranduil. "You are coming back to see us, won't you? Cellon tells me Elrond is planning a reunion of the cadets here once this place is settled."

"He said as much."

Thranduil wasn't sure how things will fare once he was with his father. It had been centuries since he last saw his father and his people. He was changed, but he could not say anything about them. Did time heal their hurts? It was hard to say. Thranduil was certain it was not the passage of time alone that had changed him.

"You are not making any promises."

"Can't."

Lassiel's eyes wavered, but she looked at the mountains again. "Ready to climb that?"

"No. We are not going that way."

"How then?

"There is a gap in the mountain range where it meets the White Mountains, a region we named Calenardhon because it is filled with green grass. It will add an additional week of travel time, but it will be worth it rather than attempting the mountain path this time of the year. Besides, that region belongs to the Dwarves, and they are quite protective of the area, especially the area around Mirrormere."

"Mirrormere?"

"Name of the lake on the other side. There is a narrow and steep path through the highest peak among those mountains. Once you come through the dangerous path, a stream of water flows down like silver stairs into a lake at the bottom of the valley. It is said that the father of their ancestors saw a reflection of himself with a crown on his head there and founded a realm of the Dwarves in the caverns beneath the Caradhras."

"Caradhras (Redhorn)? That is a strange name for a mountain covered in white snow."

"The last time we were here, we arrived at the bottom of the mountain as the sun was falling. The red gleam of the setting sun cast a bloody glow on the mountain peaks. My father thought the peak of the mountain looked like a horn covered in blood. The name seemed apt at the time." Thranduil shrugged. "And the path is treacherous. The first time we were here, we attempted a climb over a sheer wall of ice. I fell several hundred feet and delayed the crossing by three days."

"What did you do?" Lassiel shook her head as if the whole incident had been his fault.

"I did nothing. It was the inclement weather, the snow and the ice."

"Indeed. Why don't I believe you?" Lassiel laughed.

Over the past few centuries, they had become friends. She was patient with him, and Thranduil was comfortable with her the way he was rarely with others.

"All right. Perhaps I should not have made a jump instead of scaling the wall like everyone did, but if I succeeded, it would have saved us at least a day, maybe even two."

"Instead, you took a shortcut and cost others three days."

"That had not been the intention. Still, that was nothing compared to what almost happened with the Dwarves when we got to the other side."

"What happened? You didn't get into a fight with them?"

"This side of the mountain does not have a visible Dwarven presence, but on the other side, Dwarves had guards. As we came down the stairs, following the stream, the Dwarves saw us. We did not know at that time that the region belonged to the Dwarves. Had we been less worn out by the treacherous passage, we would have paid more attention to our surroundings. But before we could prepare for it, we were surrounded. They would have taken us as prisoners to their underground fortress, but as tired as we were, all of us would have died rather than allow the Dwarves to take us as prisoners."

"Why try to fight? Could you not have explained that you were just trying to cross the mountain?"

"We did. But they insisted we drop our weapons, and none of us were willing. It was quite tense."

Lassiel's face paled. She shook her head. "You did not harm them, did you?"

"Harm them? We do not harm people who leave us alone, Lassiel. They would have harmed us if they thought we were weaker. But the Dwarf in charge of the guards was not a half-wit. I think he could tell we were no mere hunters like the Silvans they had dealt with before. By calling other guards within their cave, they could have killed us all, but I think he knew we would have taken down as many of his guards before we fell. There were twenty of us. Well-armed and armored."

"No wonder they wanted to take you as prisoners. They probably thought you were a threat. Ai, why can't we all get along? I believe Lord Celebrimbor plans to work with the Dwarves of the Misty Mountains. Had you and your father's warriors attacked them, it would have made his work that more difficult."

"We didn't attack anyone." Thranduil harrumphed, piqued by her words. "We just didn't want to be taken as prisoners. We didn't know what they would do to us. Unlike you Noldor, we do not have a pleasant experience with the Dwarves." Onar had been an exception, he and his nephew, Buri.

"I am sure the Dwarves are not the friendliest of people, but then, neither are you. Valar were with you when you were with your father who is probably more diplomatic than you."

"Ha! My father? Diplomatic? That is not the word I would use to describe my father. Perhaps I am difficult, I admit, but diplomatic my father is not."

Lassiel shook her head as she crinkled her forehead, worry clear in her eyes. "And about that. Thranduil, please do not make people work so hard to get to know you. Most people are like me. Words cut them as easily as any blade. And if I am allowed to say this as your friend, high is the wall that you build around yourself."

"I do not know what you mean."

"Will you deny it? The moment someone walks into a room, you raise the walls around you and slip on that impassive mask of yours."

"Trusting without knowing who they are is dangerous."

"But one must trust to live with others, to love."

"It is good, then, love is not in my plan."

"And why not? What is wrong with you? Elrond and you are the only officers who are still unmarried. At least, Elrond has found love."

Thranduil grimaced. "Fondness is not love. And she is a child and a spoiled one at that. She doesn't deserve him. He is too good for her."

Lassiel rolled her eyes with exasperation. "Can you not be happy that Elrond found love? He seemed as fond of Elloth as she is of him the last time I saw them."

Thranduil did not want to talk about Elloth, so he said instead, "You said all the officers, but Belegor is not married as well."

"He is a different story."

They didn't say, but Thranduil knew Belegor would never marry. The Noldo's heart was given to the one who could not and would not return it.

Thranduil was glad he kept his, although when he hears clear laughter like the silver bells, a tinge of regrets came. But soon, the regrets passed, followed by relief. He didn't deserve her, anyway. She was better off with someone who valued her like a treasure that she was.

"What about you?" Thranduil nudged Lassiel's shoulder. "Not over him yet?"

Lassiel smiled and shrugged.

"Perhaps you will find someone else. You fell for me once."

The healer laughed. "Only because you reminded me of him, but I learned well enough that you are very different from him."

She never told Thranduil exactly who he was, and Thranduil never asked. He only guessed that it was someone who could not return her love. But if it happened before Thranduil met her, Lassiel would have been only a child when it happened.

But it was like that among his kindred. They loved early and deeply. Most of the ones who found their mates found each other while they were young. The older they became, the more fixed in their ways they became. And those who were fixed in their ways found it harder to find mates. Didn't matter to him. Love and marriage were not something he was cut out for.

"Perhaps you will find another who reminds you of him. There are still many, many people out there that you have not met."

"You believe that?" Lassiel looked up at him but turned away when another figure approached them.

"You two are up early," said Cellon. The new commander of the guards walked up next to Thranduil and greeted Lassiel before turning back to Thranduil. "Lord Celeborn is looking for you."

"Are others up?" Thranduil looked toward the mountains. The sun was still behind, but the day was brightening.

"They are getting ready." Cellon glanced at Lassiel, then grinned widely. "Did I interrupt something?"

"I was just saying goodbye." Lassiel smiled, then turned to Thranduil, reached out and grabbed his hand. "Stay well, Thranduil. May the Valar watch over you." Then she bit her lip before continuing. "Don't give up on it, Thranduil. If you won't, perhaps, I won't either." She squeezed Thranduil's hand before leaving.

"What was that about?" Cellon asked.

Thranduil shrugged.

"You are not trying to seduce her, are you?"

"I am leaving in few hours, Cellon Brundorion."

"Just making sure. Poor girl. She is still heartbroken about Gelir. My Ithiliel tried her best to get Lassiel interested in other warriors to no avail. Her heart is set. Ai, what a pity."

Celler shook his head with a frown but perked up instantly. "But then, she is still young. Perhaps she will be like her mentor and marry late. Mistress Taurien was quite old when she left with Gilmagor."

"Wait, what?"

"I told you already. Back when they left together."

Thranduil could not keep his mouth closed. He had known Mistress Taurien left in the same ship with Lord Gilmagor, but he had never expected those two to be together.

"They got married? When? How?"

"They got engaged just before leaving Lindon. Being the private people that they are, kept it quiet, but I knew it, of course. What am I if I don't know these things, right?" Then, Cellon crunched his face. "I told you this already. You have not been listening to me."

Thranduil could not deny it. Cellon knew a lot of things, and he talked a lot. But Thranduil found gossip tedious and did not bother paying attention to more than half of what Cellon blabbered.

"But they are so old. How could they get married that late?"

"Unlike you, cold-hearted bastard, people love. Nothing matters, not age nor race, when it comes to love. Look at Elloth fawning over our beloved Peredhel even when he looks older than Lord Cirdan."

"Don't call him that. And even if Elrond looks older, he is still much better looking than you or anyone else."

"What is this? Admitting your admiration for Peredhel?"

"I mean it, Cellon. Do not call him Peredhel."

"Why? It is true that he is only a half-blooded Elf. And you call him that all the time."

"He is my kin, friend and brother, dearer to me than life. I will die in his place if ever there's a need. I can call him what I want. But I won't let anyone else…"

The moment Thranduil saw Cellon's eyes bulge, he knew he had said too much.

"Holy Trees of Valinor! Is this the admission of love I hear from our frigid friend? Does Elrond know?"

Dammit! Thranduil regretted instantly, but the damage was done.

"Is that mean you love me as well? I am your friend and brother at arms."

"Hardly!"

"You wound me. I am your friend, too." Cellon placed his hands over his mouth in a dramatic gesture, his eyes glistening as if he would cry, making his voice like a child's. "Will you not die for me, too, Thranduil?"

"Why should I?"

"Do you not love me even a little? I love you."

Thranduil groaned. He wanted to deny it. Flatly.

"Only very little. A tiny bit."

Cellon brightened as he laughed out loud. "Yes! Yes! My frigid little stone heart loves me." The Elf pounded Thranduil's back enthusiastically. "I knew, of course, but I finally got you to admit it. Wait until I tell Elrond…"

Thranduil took hold of Cellon's collar and pulled him close, lowering his voice into a hiss.

"Listen here, Brundorion. Should I ever hear anything even remotely close to what was said, I give you my word that I will make your life intolerable. Do you understand me? I am just that mountain away from here. If I hear even a puff from your lips on this, you will regret it."

"Fine. Fine! I heard nothing." Cellon raised his hands.

"Swear it."

"I swear on my honor."

Thranduil let go. Cellon rolled his eyes.

"Dear Valinor, Thranduil. You didn't need to turn dark lord on me. And what is wrong with letting us know you love us, too? I am not afraid to show my love."

"You are a good friend, Cellon. I am grateful that you included me when most of the cadets would have nothing to do with me. That took courage and empathy, and I respect you for that. But your tongue needs some restraint."

Cellon shrugged, then nodded as if in agreement. "I will admit. Ah well. It is going to be hard, though. Can I tell it to my Ithiliel, at least?"

"No."

Cellon drooped his mouth. "Look what you made me do, Thranduil. Sad face. On the day I am here to bid you farewell. And I can't even accompany you to the other side because of the stupid new agreement."

According to what Thranduil knew, his father, King Amdir and the Woodelves had not only insisted on having a Sindarin lord rule over the new city, they had also insisted, and Gil-galad had agreed, that no Noldor shall cross the Misty Mountains to the eastern side without the explicit permission from the lords of the Woodelves.

THRANDUIL stepped into Celeborn's tent opened to face the mountains. There was a table laden with food for the two of them.

"I thought we could share a meal before you depart," said Celeborn as he sat down, gesturing Thranduil to do the same.

"I wish I was going with you," Celeborn said, his voice regretful.

"You have much to attend to here, lord. My father will understand that."

"Once we are settled, I would like to invite you and your father. Do you think…" Celeborn did not complete the question and Thranduil knew instinctively that he wanted to ask if his father would come.

Back in Menegroth, Celeborn and his father had been great friends. Best of friends. Closer even than brothers.

"You and my father had been more than just friends. I am sure my father had not forgotten."

Celeborn turned toward the mountains. There was grief there, thick, saturated, and unappeased. Celeborn's face was unreadable, but the air of grief brushed Thranduil's skin, its invisible tendrils curling around his neck and chest like morning fog. Had he Elrond's senses, Thranduil might have choked on them.

A servant brought a jug of fragrant water and poured it into their glasses. When he left, Celeborn turned back to Thranduil again.

"You are packed and ready?" Celeborn smiled although it did not reach his eyes.

"Ready. Even the chests you wanted me to bring to my father. And I have your personal letter to my father here." Thranduil patted his chest where he stashed the letter Celeborn gave him for his father's eyes only.

"Good." Celeborn nodded. "Good."

Thranduil could tell there were more things the elder lord wanted to say. Thranduil waited, but Celeborn remained silent.

"These look great." Thranduil looked at the food on his plate. The salted, herb marinated cubes of grilled venison wrapped in wild greens was a very Noldorin dish, one of the few Thranduil liked. "How did you know I liked this?"

Celeborn smiled. "Actually, I didn't. It is one of the dishes that Galadriel introduced to us that Oropher liked. I am glad you like it. It will be the last Noldorin dish you will taste for a long while."

"Didn't know Lady Galadriel cooked."

"Cooking and gardening are her favorite pastimes. Your father and she used to compete against each other as to who made the best dishes." Celeborn laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. " They are very competitive, you know. They used to make even your mother roll her eyes. And your mother was the most patient person I had ever met."

Thranduil's heart clenched at the mention of his mother. There was so much about his mother he didn't know. In his youth, his mother had been his light, but the darkness within him had covered everything but his own pain.

Celeborn's eyes clouded. "I am sorry, Thranduil. I shouldn't have mentioned your mother."

"No. Please. I want to hear about her. My father does not talk about her. And I could not ask." And he had not wanted to talk about her. Or about took in a quick breath. "Tell me about her. Please. How did my father and she meet? I know she stayed away from most people. How did he even know about her?"

Celeborn gazed at the mountains again, his eyes far away.

"Your father fell in love with your mother's voice even before he had met her." Celeborn smiled. "It was not until forty years later, as he lay dying that Oropher finally met your mother. He heard your mother singing when he wandered away from Eithel Ivrin and the mass of people gathered there."

Thranduil looked up, surprised. "Wait, Eithel Ivrin? You are not talking about the source of Narog River? About the feast Fingolfin had beneath Ered Wethrin (Mountains of Shadow)?"

Celeborn laughed. "Yes, I am talking of Mereth Aderthad (Feast of Reuniting). Apparently, Oropher heard someone sing and was so mesmerized by the voice, he made us stay extra days trying to find this imaginary woman. At least we thought so at the time."

"You couldn't be." Thranduil shook his head. "Pengolodh taught me history, and he said only two people came from Doriath for the feast."

"You could believe what the Noldor tell you in their stories or believe me who had actually been there. Pengolodh, I respect, but he wasn't even born at that time. What he knows of the Feast of Reuniting would have been through the mouth of others or from the books written about it. Mablung and Daeron represented our king. That is true. But they didn't count the servants or the guards who accompanied them. We were there, but not as ourselves. Trust me. I should know. I saw Galadriel for the first time at that place."

Thranduil knew without Celeborn's defining it that 'we' meant the four princes of Doriath.

"So, you were not supposed to be there."

"No. But we were curious, and Mablung and Daeron allowed us to accompany them as their attendants. As we were disguised as servants, no one paid attention to us."

"And you tell me I do not listen. You didn't listen to your King's commands either."

"We were not doing anything dangerous. And unlike you, we never got into trouble."

"Why don't I believe you?"

Celeborn laughed, genuine laughter that rang through his tent.

"Well, perhaps we got into trouble here and there. But, nothing compared to what you and Elrond did at Lindon."

"We didn't get into trouble. The trouble came to us."

"Yes. The food didn't get into our mouth. The food just filled us."

"It's different. You had hands that fed."

"And you had legs that walked."

"Not the same."

"Don't see much difference."

"I will be asking my father about this. I am quite certain I heard enough about the four princes of Doriath and their many misadventures."

"You do that." Celeborn laughed again, then looked into Thranduil's eyes. "I will miss having you around. You made life interesting once the worry passed. Promise me you will come and visit often. If he…" Celeborn stopped.

Thranduil knew even without Celeborn completing that sentence that the elder lord worried whether his father would allow him to visit.

"I am my own person, my lord. And I know my father. He will allow me to make my own decisions. Isn't that what you and Lord Istuion counted on?"

Celeborn's face darkened.

"I hope your time at Lindon had not been all about suffering, Thranduil. When Istuion and I agreed to help the king, we didn't do it only for the political benefit.. We thought it could benefit you personally as well. Your father believed in the Noldor once even if he does not now. Istuion, Lord Cirdan and I, we still believe that Noldor are a vital part in keeping peace here. In these lands. Now that we know Sauron is here and is planning to take control, it is even more vital that we work with them. My joining the Noldor, it was never just about me.

"I want to keep my people safe. Just as your father wants and Amdir wants. We know what our duty is. It is just…" Celeborn closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. "The way I see it differs, that is all. My feelings have not changed. I believe it is by unifying rather than separating that we could become stronger."

"Unifying under the Noldor?"

"Does it matter where or under whom? The unity is what matters."

"It matters to my father."

"Because he is listening to his heart more than his head."

"Says the Elf who left his family to be with his love."

"Galadriel and I also asked your parents to come with us."

"My father had a duty to the king and the people. And so did you."

Celeborn's face crumbled; his usually calm demeanor wavered before he turned away and hid his eyes.

Silence invaded the space in the tent.

"I didn't know what would happen." Celeborn's voice was low and trembled as if he felt the chill. "Had I known, I would have never left. I would have fought beside your father." Celeborn's blue-gray eyes glistened. "I didn't know the Noldor…the Feanorians would, that Doriath would fall. Galadriel needed to get away because of what happened at Nargothrond. I thought we will be back after few years, a decade, maybe. That our king would perish, that the queen would leave and her protection would disappear, we could not foresee." Celeborn shook his head, his eyes a dark, churning sea of suffering. "Not even Galadriel saw that. She knew only that there will be sorrow and after losing her brothers and the people at Nargothrond, she didn't think she could bear it. Had we thought there was a threat to the people…to the king…my brother…" Celeborn's voice trailed into a choked silence.

Thranduil swallowed a burning lump that lodged in his throat. The elder lord did not need to say further. He knew how it felt to be the one who survived when so many of those you loved didn't.

"My father said he asked you to lead the Sindar to the east, with him. Why did you refuse?"

"How could I go? People from Menegroth are not the only Sindar, Thranduil. There are others, most of them are back in Lindon, some who will join me here later. Feanorians attacked Menegroth but did not touch the rest of Doriath. There are many who didn't experience the slaughter who didn't mind living in Lindon. Then, there are Mithrim who had served the Noldorin lords. They needed a leader, too. Both Amdir and your father were leaving Lindon. Am I to abandon the majority because the two remaining princes were leaving with some of the people? You tell me, Thranduil. What do you think I should have done when these remaining Sindar came to me to lead them? My heart told me to go with Amdir and Oropher. They are my brothers. My family. But I had a duty to these people."

Duty.

Thranduil looked at the mountain. The daunting height of the mountain sometimes discouraged people and turned them away. But for some, they had no choice but to climb, even when their hearts told them to turn back.

Sanwe-latya (Quenya. Mind Opening): telepathy. According to Osanwe-Kenta (Enquiry into the Communication of Thoughts), all minds are equal in status but differ in strength and capacity. People who are more attuned to their spirits like Ainur and Elves could use it but how easily they could depend on their individual strength and capacity.

Mind, in its original state before Morgoth marred it, is open and could perceive other minds. But on the ones with bodies (incarnates), perception of other minds are dimmed, and in order to penetrate other minds, strengthening is required. There are 3 ways to do so: affinity of mind to mind because of kinship (family) or love (lovers/friends); urgency (great need as in joy, grief, fear), and when such feeling is shared by the receiver, the clearer the message; authority where one had duty to another or has a right to issue command.

But in order to use sanwe-latya, the mind must be open, or at the least passive. A closed mind cannot be read or be able to receive, no matter the strengthening or the power or the capacity.

Ethel Ivrin (Pools of Ivrin)—waterfalls and pools of water that were the source of River Narog. The pool and the waterfalls lay under the Ered Wethrin (Mountains of Shadow which surrounded Hithlum where Fingolfin ruled). Fingolfin held the Feast of Reuniting in the lands around the Pools of Ivrin.

Mereth Aderthad (Feast of Reuniting)—In order to unite all the divided Elves of the land against the forces of Morgoth, Fingolfin held a grand feast by the Pools of Ivrin. Representatives from all over the Middle-earth, even from the Green-elves came.

A/N: Carrier pigeons were used throughout history to carry messages, but they could only be used one way. Despite the distance, they could find their way back to their home, but could not be used to go back and forth (except in short distances where the other area was set up as a feeding area). So, these messenger doves are somewhat different from the carrier pigeons. (my creation, not in Tolkien's stories)

Elloth is a minor child character from What It Means to be a King, Ch 31: Light Within. She has grown up now into a young maiden.