Littlesaiyangirl: blushes profusely Thank you very much! big hugs

Frodo: Thank you so much for your encouragement and your words of praise. They really give me the boost I need to kick my butt in gear and work on my writing. Reviews are like nectar of the gods and more addictive than drugs I swear! LOL Thank you and I hope you like this chapter as well. I kinda wondered if Elrond had other relationships than Celebrian and thought, 'why not?' I hope to get a good relationship going between all the characters and take the story in odd directions…. Its like my signature. EG

Dragonfly: THANK YOU SOOO MUCH FOR CATCHING THAT! I have since fixed the little prob of Galadriel and Celeborn not being related to Yarna.. I hope it now makes sense.. thankfully that was the only point in which they were brought up. Just goes to show ya that everyone makes booboos and oversights that I and my two beta's have overlooked. And here's an elf as thanks! sends over an Elf

Supergurl15: Yeah, just the idea of Gollum with the ring ruling over a kingdom.. kinda odd. Wonder if all his soldiers would have multiple personality disorder as well? LOL Be funny to see them fight on the battle field.. course they would mainly argue with themselves… Hope you survived long enough to read this chapter. Enjoy!

Irish QT: blush with a cheeky grin Expect the unexpected with me. I like to add twists and turns and tweeks here and there… keep 'em guessing! Hope this chapter is as enjoyable as the others.

Faila Gamgee of Sandy Downs: Its FF.net… since when do they get ANYTHING right. giggles I will try to remember and endeavor to call you 'downs' instead of 'dow'. :D  THANK YOU VERY MUCH for your review and encouragement! bows graciously I like to keep my audience guessing and give them twists and turns that they didn't expect. :D There are more to come in future postings.. so be warned. J

Elenillor: yes, life sucks sometimes but it is the best muse we writers could ask for. I wanted to portray Legolas as a 'stand up/protect' guy, one who isn't interested in what he gets out of it but for the gentlemanly and chivalries of it. Something respectable. Her name is explained in this chapter. I thought it a cool twist to have an evening star already there.. and now an  opposite. Thanks again and I cant wait to see the pics!

Dragonsdaughter: Thanks! Though strider isn't a main character, he just seems to take the limelight from time to time… he has that personality.. at least I hope that's how it turns out in my opinion. Your family sounds as 'fun' as mine…. But mine is more 'disFUNctional" than enjoyment.. LOL

Lúth: Legolas is a great elf and I mean no permanent damage, but sometimes torture is necessary to get the readers involved and create a bond between characters. And yes, this story is leading up into Fellowship… don't really know how many years it is until it, but I'm thinking at least a year or two.

Gwyn: I had NO IDEA that the 'Elronds daughter' thing was popular.. I really don't read LOTR fanfics that much, but when I do I don't read MS's and according to another viewer and my beta, this ISNT a mary sue cause there is NO romance whatsoever in this fic, so according to the 'ms guidelines' I was recently given, this fic doesn't even come close. :D  And I'm keeping the guidelines handy for future reference so I don't slip into the dark territory known as MS writing. LOL  Thanks for your review.. made me think and learn something new! J

Hex of the Unseelie: accepts award and bows, tears streaming down my face Thank you! Thank you! I DO try to keep my audience guessing and give them something to think about and make them go 'I didn't think of that!'. There are a couple more turns in this story until the ending, so I hope you enjoy this chapter. :D

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Chapter Eleven

Legolas raced quickly through the halls even though he knew that Lord Elrond had prohibited such actions within his home. Somehow, the Prince reasoned, he thought the Lord wouldn't mind at this particular instance.

Slowing down his speed into a brisk walk, Legolas stopped in front of the doors that were to be Yarna's room. He hesitated briefly and then rapped on the heavy wooden door.

"Who is it?" came Yarna's muffled reply.

"Legolas."

"Come in."

Legolas entered and his expression instantly grew grave. Yarna was curled up on the floor in the corner, the leather overcoat wrapped firmly around her, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Yarna, what is wrong?" Legolas immediately went to her side.

"I do not know this place," Yarna's voice was hushed and broken with hiccups. "I am scared. Do they truly believe I am the Lords' daughter? Am I to become one of them? What is going to happen to me, Legolas?"

Legolas eased himself down beside Yarna, at a loss of words. He had never encountered such a situation, and the words of comfort didn't come easy to him, "You are to be you. No one is asking you to be different."

"But they say I am one of their own!" Yarna exclaimed, her voice rising. "What if I do not want to be one of them?"

Legolas felt a stab of pain at the words, though he knew Yarna didn't mean them as insulting. "You can be whomever you wish. I told you, your wishes will be respected here. There will be no demands, no commands. Only people that wish you well and are willing to help you through your trouble."

"But I do not know them;" Yarna gasped through tears, "I do not know anyone here, but you."

"Yes Milady. You DO know me. But at first, you did not. You came to trust me in time. And I swore to stay by your side and protect you," Legolas said placing his right hand over his heart and bowing his head slightly.

Yarna's eyes pooled with tears. She closed them, her breath coming in sharp gasps, "No one has ever been so kind to me, Legolas. Tell me truly, are all Elves like you?"

Legolas resisted the urge to laugh, knowing that now was not the right time. He draped an arm around Yarna's shoulders, feeling them trembling and gave her a small squeeze, "I wish I could say yes, but most of them are wary of strangers. They do not trust outsiders, as you do not trust them. They are fearful of persecution, attacks, and misconceptions."

Yarna leaned against Legolas, her sobs coming harder, racking through her body painfully, "So we are the same?"

"It appears so, Milady," Legolas said softly. "But Lord Elrond and his sons are willing to bring you back home. Everyone will be pleased that you have returned. Amrungil," he whispered her name absentmindedly.

Yarna stirred, pulling away from the Prince and staring at him, "What does that mean again?"

Legolas smiled and answered, "It means 'Morning Star'."

Yarna repeated the translation several times, then smiled at the Prince, "Elvish is a beautiful language, but difficult to remember. But I think I like it."

"Good," Legolas said with a sly grin. "I am sure your brothers will help you. That is, if you want their help. They will be most helpful, mainly with chaos and confusion."

"The two that I met?"

"Yes," Legolas held back his mirth, remembering the trouble he had gotten into thanks to the twins.

"Did they say that I have a sister?"

"Her name is Arwen Evenstar."

"I think elves have a thing for stars," Yarna said with a small shove at the Prince beside her. Her tears began to dry upon her cheeks and her eyes shone with mirth.

Legolas laughed, "We love the stars and do name our favorite things after them."

Yarna looked seriously at Legolas, "And what are you? Autumn star? Midnight star?"

"Nay. Legolas means 'leaves'. I am named after the leaves that fall in autumn."

"I was close," Yarna grinned. "Legolas…. Legolas… do you have a surname?"

"Greenleaf."

"I should have guessed," Yarna sighed, rolling her eyes.

Legolas nudged her back, "So, what do you want to be called? Yarna, or Amrungil?"

"I do not know if what the Lord speaks is truth and I do not wish to give him false hope by accepting a name that does not belong to me." Yarna said, her demeanor becoming shadowed with worried.

"If Lord Elrond says it is so, then I believe him." Legolas said certainly, "I have known him for many ages and put my complete faith in what he says as truth. But if you are not comfortable with the name, then I shall refrain from using it."

Yarna seemed lost in thought for a moment and said slowly, "I am not used to Amrungil, but maybe with time, I will become accustomed to it. It is a beautiful name"

"That it is." Legolas said softly.

She smiled, then a questioningly look came across her face, "How did you know where to find me? I did not hear anyone say where I would be."

Legolas gestured to the chambers around them, "These are the spare rooms for important guests. I am staying in the room across the hall. Lord Elrond is two doors down; his sons have their rooms on the opposite side of the hall."

"They are close by?" Yarna's eyes grew worried, but didn't hold the usual fear.

"They wish us to be close, in case they are needed. And they wish their long lost sibling to be close by," Legolas stared at Yarna, his tone sincere. "They will never harm you, Amrungil. You could be no safer anywhere in Middle Earth. They would rather suffer pain and death than see you harmed in any way."

Yarna thought for a moment, then startled when a faint knock came on the door.

Legolas immediately rose and strode to the door, calling through its thick mass, "Who is there?"

"It is Illiandruil. I have brought My Lady some gowns." came the answer in a female voice.

Legolas opened the door and felt Yarna come to his side, watching the visitor closely, "I will take them."

Yarna gasped at the fabrics, their colors shimmering and roiling around like water. She looked up into the face of the she elf and asked faintly, "These are for me?"

"Certainly My Lady. There are a few here to choose from. If you wish, I will bring more for you."

Yarna stepped aside, gesturing for the she-elf to enter, "That will not be necessary. I think these are beautiful." she eyed the rich material as it was spread across her lavish bed.

"My Lady, do you wish assistance in preparing your bath and dressing?" The she elf asked pleasantly, her tone melodious like bells.

Yarna looked to her quickly in alarm, but immediately relaxed and smiled, comforted by another females' presence, "I think that would be nice. Thank you."

"As you wish," Illiandruil said with a small bow, then walked to a large tub that sank deep in the stone work. Within seconds, the sounds of splashing water were heard in the room, and Illiandruil curtsied at the door, "I shall return with some hot water and bathing oils for you."

Yarna looked at Legolas, her jaw slack and her eyes a mixture of confusion and wonder. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but she found no words forming, so she closed her mouth and stared awkwardly around the room.

Having been mistreated by males most of her life, the company of another woman was easing on Yarna's warring mind, her senses relaxed and soothed as her defenses dropped from their constant heightened state since arriving at the Elven paradise.

Illiandruil returned shortly, carrying two large containers filled with water that sloshed around. On her belt, several small sachets were swinging, their weight making the belt tip lopsidedly across her hips. She added the hot water to the semi-full tub and dipped her hand into the water.

"Just a bit more should do it."

With a nod, she left to retrieve more water.

"She is so nice."

Legolas stepped closer, his expression kind, "There shall be only she-elves in your company until you are comfortable. Illiandruil has been with Lord Elrond for many millennia and has taken it upon herself to look after the family. You are in good care My Lady."

Amrungil looked up at the Prince, a slight frown creasing her face, "And you are sure that they are to be trusted?" She subconsciously started to fidget and shift uncomfortably on the balls of her feet.

Legolas let out a small laugh, "They are to be trusted."

Illiandruil returned with her containers filled to capacity once more and tipped their contents into the bath. She dipped her hands in and smiled, "Much better." Then she untied a couple sachets from her belt and sprinkled their powder into the steaming water. "And just a bit of asea aranoin and it will be ready."

Illiandruil crushed some small leaves in her hands breathing heavily across then, then dumped them into the water. The water instantly turned a soft rose hue.

A sweet, relaxing peace filled the room, wafting through the air and scenting everything with their fragrance.

Illiandruil turned to the two, and placed her hands on her hips in an authoritative manner, "My Dear Prince, though your company is enjoyed, I must ask you to leave. Your attendance is most improper."

Legolas looked momentarily stunned then recovered, placing an impassive look on his face, "Forgive me."

Yarna looked wide-eyed at Legolas as he turned to the door, "You are leaving me alone?"

"I do not think it wise for me to stay," Legolas smirked. "You are in good care. I will return shortly." Legolas unconsciously scratched at the dried blood that still encrusted his clothes, causing them to be rigid and itchy against his skin.

"I beg your pardon?" Illandriul said, frowning at the remark. "We will call for you when it is appropriate for your presence."

Legolas bit back his tongue and smiled at Yarna, "I will be waiting outside your door Milady when you are ready." With a crisp nod he left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Males," Illiandruil scoffed, "They think that females can not take care of themselves and have to be ready to lead the charge into any situation. Always posturing and acting so dominating."

Amrungil looked at the she elf quizzically, "I like it. I think it is noble."

Illiandruil smiled and began pulling wide curtains across the windows, blocking the view inside and plunging them into semi-darkness, "Oh, I am not saying it is not nice to be treated with such protectiveness, but it does get frustrating after a few centuries of it. Such behavior now only serves to irritate me."

Amrungil cocked her head, "They fear you can not take care of yourself?"

"I have been able to defend myself since I was a couple hundred years old, but it is the chivalry of it that amuses me." Illiandruil said and gestured at Amrungil. "Now My Lady, let us see if we can not get the filth off of you and dress you more appropriately. Lord Elrond said you had some injuries that needed attending to, let us get them cleaned up and dressed properly as well."

Yarna felt tense, but nevertheless, slid out of her dirty ragged clothes. Illiandruil helped remove the patchwork of leaves Legolas had wrapped around Yarna's legs to prevent them from becoming infected and to aid in healing.

"Most impressive," Illiandruil said as she inspected the nearly mended wounds. She looked at Yarna and explained, "The aspa plant is the most healing plant in Middle Earth, for all species; but more so for Elves. It speeds our healing and rejuvenates us."

"I have had little pain and have felt stronger." Yarna admitted, flaking off dried pieces of the herb from her skin. She ran her hands over the places where red welts and large knots once marred her skin. Now, only a soft pinkish hue showed the damaged area, the areas of intense bruising were haloed with a reddish copper. She whispered absentmindedly, "They are already healed….. how curious."

Illiandruil busied herself with finding a certain ingredient for the bath, to which Yarna felt grateful as she slipped into the warm water. The warmth enveloped her, relaxing her almost instantly as she submerged into its welcoming embrace. She sighed low and slowly, closing her eyes and reclining in the pool. The hot water lapped around her neck, wetting the tangles of her hair, but easing away all her misgivings, mistrust, and misery.

Illiandruil kneeled beside the bath, holding a small vial, "This will clean your hair."

"Thank you, Illiandruil. For all you have done. You are most kind."

"It is my pleasure. Lord Elrond has been a gracious host to me these long years. I am indebted to him," Illiandruil answered, "I know you only found out about your past, and that you have had another name. Which would you like me to call you Milady?"

"Yarna is what I went by, but I will also answer to Amrungil," She smiled slightly, realizing that the more she heard it, the more natural the name became, "I have taken a liking to that name."

"It is very fitting," Illiandruil said. "Now, what do you say to working those tangles out of your hair?"

Illiandruil worked her nimble fingers through Amrungils' hair, tugging gently at the tangles and smoothing them out before moving on to the next knotted mess. Amrungil scrubbed at her soiled body, washing away the dirt, grime, and blood. By the time both finished, the water was a murky brown color.

Illiandruil held up a robe and wrapped Amrungil in its folds as she stood from the bath, "I do not think there is any need to redress your wounds. They are already closed and well healed."

Amrungil smiled, holding the edge of the robe up to expose the slightly pink marks on her legs, "They do feel much better."

"I am afraid I did not know your favorite color, so I brought several different ones to choose from," Illiandruil said waving a hand over the bed that was littered with the gowns.

"They are all so lovely," Amrungil exclaimed, running her hands over the textures and finely woven fabrics.

"If you need more of a selection, I am sure I can find some others," Illiandruil said with a smile.

"These are perfect. So much more than what I have ever worn before!" Amrungil said, holding up a soft flowing gown of a pale gray. She held up the gown, which fell perfectly to her feet.

"Perfect" Iliandruil exclaimed, then began to collect the other gowns and deposited them on a chair, "When you finish dressing, I will help you with your hair."

Amrungil dressed hurriedly, then gave the she elf a strange look, "Why am I to be dressed so?"

"Lord Elrond has announced a banquet tonight, in your honor, Milady. It is proper to be presented in a appropriate manner."

"A banquet?" Amrungil gasped, her throat starting to constrict. "With others? More strangers?"

Illiandruil sized her up momentarily and huffed, "You are the daughter of Lord Elrond. You will be treated with the utmost reverence and respect," A playful smile graced the elf's face, "Besides My Lady, I will be by your side, and I am sure we will have the honor of a Royal Mirkwood escort."

Amrungil smiled despite herself at the thought of Legolas defending her against an entire armada of Elves, "He promised he would never leave me. He promised to protect me."

Illiandruil gestured towards a large mirror set above a table burdened down with brushes and numerous hair accessories of the finest quality, "It is a high honor to be protected so. You are most fortunate to have such an Elven pledge."

Amrungil remained silent as Illiandruil began to brush, braid, and weave her hair in a beautiful pattern. For a lifetime she had been a slave, tortured, starved, beaten and devoid of all hope. Now she had compassionate people that seemed genuinely concerned about her and willing to help her in this confusing time. Yet the contracting thoughts that plagued her mind would not allow her any rest. Was is possible that she was what they claimed? Could she really trust this Elven world? Is there really hope left afterall?

As Illiandruil stepped back to admire her work a tapping came on the door.

"Yes?" Amrungil called.

"My Lady, are you ok?" Legolas asked through the thick wooden barrier.

"I am fine Legolas. You may come in now," Amrungil called back.

Legolas inched the door open, then stepped inside. His jaw went slack at the site before him.

Yarna was no longer dirty and disheveled. Her clothes were no longer tattered and stained, hanging off her tiny frame. Her hair was no longer tangled and discolored from filth. Her shoes no longer meager pieces of torn leather tied onto her feet with long laces.

Instead a beautiful woman stood before him. Her body draped in a shimmering molten gray gown that flowed gently against her. Soft, petite lines arched and curved in all the right places. Her skin was fair and flawless alabaster, her light brown hair braided on either side of her head, then wrapped and draped around in a crown on her head, a few stray natural ringlets accenting her small face that were framed by familiar gray-green eyes. True to Elven perfection.

The change was staggering.

Legolas bowed low, "My Lady."

Amrungil looked hesitantly at the Elf Prince, "Do I look alright?"

Legolas straightened up with a pleased look, "My Lady, you look every bit the daughter of an Elven Lord."

Amrungil blushed, then noticed Legolas' clothes, "You changed as well?"

"Yes Milady," Legolas unnecessarily smoothed his tunics, "I thought it rather rude to wear my previous clothes to such an honored event. Luckily, Lord Elrond supplied me with fresh attire."

Amrungil thought back to the Princes' ripped clothes that were lashed open with a whip, to the bloodstains that discolored the fabric. She winced inwardly as she recalled the welts and suffering Legolas had endured.

"Shall we go My Ladies?" Legolas grinned, offering his arms to Amrungil and Illiandruil.

"How gentlemanly," Illiandruil snapped playfully, eliciting a giggle from the other two.

The trio made their way down the hall, winding their way through the many twists and turns of the Elven structure. Amrungil hoped that Legolas knew where he was going as she walked by his side, arm draped over his, and Illiandruil on the other side.

They stopped at a large doorway, flanked by two strong, agile looking elves, dressed in robes of moss green. Long bows and a quiver full of arrows were strapped to each of their backs; elegantly arched knives graced their sides. They bowed low upon the arrival of the guests of honor.

Amrungil tensed by Legolas' side, and then felt her stomach drop into her shoes as she looked for the first time into the Grand Hall of Lord Elrond, seating roughly fifty guests, though to the scared eyes, was filled with hundreds of watchful eyes, all seemingly boring straight into her soul.

Lord Elrond and his sons were seated at a top of a large engraved table slightly away from the other tables, all of which were laden down with food platters and decanters of wine. A seating for three at the far end of the head table was placed a bit further away, giving a safe distance should Amrungil feel suffocated by the presence of so many others.

"Ah, very good," Elrond said, rising to his feet as he watched the trio walk towards him.

Legolas used his arm to pin Amrungil's tightly against him and gave her an encouraging smile, "Things will be alright. If you wish to, you may leave at any time."

Amrungil's breath was coming in short gasps as she walked to the lead table. Her nerves felt frayed and her stomach felt like it was doing flip flops, but yet she trusted the Elf Prince and allowed him to escort her to her chair, which he held out for her to be seated at.

Elrond bowed low to his daughter, then turned his attention to the other guests, "My dear friends, today is a day full of joy and happiness. My first daughter has been returned home."

There was a round of excited applause, some elves even standing and nodding at the head table. Every face because alight with smiles, their eyes twinkling like stars as they regarded their leaders' family and guest.

Lord Elrond waved a hand towards Yarna, his voice lilting with paternal pride, "My daughter, Amrungil, has been through an ordeal, therefore I wish to impress upon everyone that she is to be given her space. Respect her wishes for solitude."

Amrungil looked down the table to the Elven Lord, her face set in a shocked expression. She had feared the Lord would tell those present the trials she had suffered and ask that she answer the questions that undoubtedly burned on so many minds. The idea never crossed her mind that the Elf would order others to leave her alone and allow her some time to adjust to her new environment.

"Amin vesta," everyone murmured, their heads bowing and their hands resting over their hearts.

Amrungil looked to Legolas for a translation.

Legolas leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "They said, 'I promise'."

Amrungil gazed at the Elf Lord now seating himself in his chair. She felt a twinge of guilt. He had shown her respect and kindness, and enveloped her in his arms to comfort her even though she never recalled him as her father. His immediate love and trust made her heart ache dully in her chest, her mind wondering how wounded the Elf Lord must feel to have his long lost daughter returned and remain so distant and fearful of him. Closing her eyes, she could still feel his warm embrace, still shockingly vivid in her mind.

Amrungil's thoughts were interrupted by Legolas' gentle nudge. She looked over at him and saw him gesture to the food and wine. Feeling suddenly ravenous, she filled her plate as Legolas filled her goblet with a spiced wine.

 It had been weeks since Amrungil had real food and not the overripe fruit and murky goo that the prison served once a day. She spooned as much food as she could into her mouth, allowing it to stuff her cheeks and barely give room to chew properly. She feared it would disappear if she didn't eat it as quickly as possible.

Legolas noticed Amrungil wolfing down her food and gave her a slight bump with his shoulder. He dropped his voice so that no one else could hear, "My Lady, you should eat slower. You do not wish to make yourself sick."

Amrungil glanced up and saw that several of the Elven guests were staring at her disbelievingly, borderline horror. Swallowing down a large mouthful, she selected a proportioned amount of food on her plate and with a bit more etiquette, began to eat at a normal pace.

After her first plate, Amrungil finished off another and another, drinking down just as much wine as food. By her fifth glass, she began to feel wobbly, her eyes drooping, her legs like jelly, and her stomach full and satisfied.

Settling back against her chair, Amrungil took closer notice of those seated around her. Her attention was drawn in to a couple elves seated at the end of the long hall. Her eyes drew down in focus as she realized one of them had a bandaged head. He was flanked by two Elves wearing long robes of white, their posture straight and proper. Another was seated opposite, flanked by the elves dressed in white also, though this one was completely bound with bandages, hiding its identity.

"Legolas, who are those Elves?" She asked with a hushed whisper, her eyes never leaving the entourage.

Legolas's voice was saddened as he answered, "The ones with bandages were injured, the ones on their sides are their personal healers by Elrond's orders." Legolas noticed the look on Amrungil's face and added softly, "They were attacked by Men. They are under the care of Lord Elrond and his healers until they are well."

Amrungil's voice trailed absent-mindedly, "They are just like me."

Legolas's face softened at the empathetic look on Amrungil's features, "They are well tended to. When they are ready, they will decide their future."

"Decide? How?" Amrungil's interest piqued though slightly intoxicated, "What will they decide on?"

"Whether to remain in Middle Earth and go back to their homelands, or to go to the Undying Lands and rejoin their loved ones," Legolas answered.

A strange feeling swelled and crested over Amrungil. A sense of longing, of deep urgency and solace filled her heart. Thinking that she had engaged in too much drink, she pushed her goblet away with shaking hands, and tried to control the strange agony that crashed into her mind like breaking waves on rock.

Distractedly, she glanced down the table to the Elven Lord seated at the High Table. Though her vision was blurry due to the drinks, she could see the sadness in his eyes as he stared at his plate, picking through the food and absent-mindedly rearranging its patterns.

With a heavy sigh, his eyes rose and met the perfect gray-green reflection of his daughters'. He slightly inclined his head; a pale smile graced his fair face.

Tears welled up in Amrungil's eyes as she stared at the fair being that claimed her as his child. Her heart beat painfully against her chest as sobs began to rise from her stomach. An overwhelming urge to fling herself into the strangers arms and cry uncontrollably, battled against her slavery-bred instincts.

Not able to fight the torment raging through her, Amrungil leapt awkwardly from the table and began to race back towards her room. Her face stained with tears as her heart pounded, partly from exertion, partly from a strange foreign longing.

Legolas jumped to his feet, startled at the change in demeanor in Amrungil and made to follow her, but a hand shot out and grabbed him forcibly.

"What did you say to her?!" Illliandruil snapped harshly.

Legolas wrenched his arm free of the overbearing nursemaid as Elrond arrived at his side, "I did nothing."

Illiandruil interrupted the Prince's explanation, "You must have said something to her. She was just fine until you spoke with her!"

Legolas's brilliant blue eyes flashed dangerously, his voice even and clear, "I would NEVER cause her any harm. I have protected her and brought here for safety and would NEVER do anything to hurt her!"

Illiandruil made to scoff, but Lord Elrond interjected his tone unmistakably curt, "Legolas has protected my daughter, though she was a stranger to him and to her kin. Do not show him disrespect when you do not know the cause of such reactions."

Legolas set his jaw and stared hard at Illiandruil and added in a very low dangerous voice, "And never again will your raise your voice to me."

"I only keep your daughters' well being into mind Lord Elrond," Illiandruil said, clearly bristling over Legolas's command, "And as for you, Prince Legolas, I am only concerned over Amrungil, and when I feel someone is under threat, I will talk in any way I see appropriate."

"Enough of this!" Elrond shouted, surprising the two bickering. "Legolas find my daughter, Illiandruil, remain here. I do not wish to have Amrungil upset more than she is." Illiandruil made to argue, but the Elf Lord raised his hand and cut her off, "She is very vulnerable right now. She does not need strangers chasing her. She will respond more openly with someone she has more familiarity with."

Legolas nodded quickly and dashed out of the great hall without a backwards glance.

Amrungil ran, to where she didn't know. She thought she was heading in the direction of her room, but after seeing tapestries and carvings that were foreign, she knew she took a wrong turn and was lost.

With her breath coming in short gasps, she slowed to a walk and began to choke back tears. She leaned against the wall for support as her breathing became ragged and she hiccupped in air. She felt as if her entire world was collapsing in on itself.

 She wanted to flee, but remain. Her mind screamed of all the torment she suffered, yet her heart argued that nothing like that would ever happen again. She wanted to shy away from people and spend time alone, yet she wanted others around her to ensure it wasn't a dream. She wanted to stay with the elves, but a part of her wanted to give in to that strange sensation that was always present within her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a tiny voice said, 'You wish to sail to the lands that Legolas spoke of. You have known this all your life.'

Confusion railed viciously against her mind though it was nothing in comparison to the torment of her heart. Sliding down the floor and pulling her knees to her chest, Amrungil cried tears that burned her face and wrenched her soul. Sobs so painful they were almost unbearable, leaving others to wonder how a creature could survive such ache.

With only her loneliness and uncertainty as companions, Amrungil buried her face in her hands and didn't hear the soft footsteps that rounded the corner and stood before her.

Sensing that another was near, but not wanting to look up to allow someone to see her in such a state, she said softly into her hands, "I am sorry, Legolas. I did not mean to be rude. I am sorry."

A quiet shift alerted her of the being beside of her and she continued through sobs, "Maybe I should go back. I do not belong here. I can not fit in here."

"Perhaps that is a good idea," said a strange silky voice.

Amrungil jumped, her bloodshot eyes focusing in on an elf, crouched down beside of her. With a jolt, she recognized him as the sentry that stopped her and Legolas before entering Rivendell.

"Who are you?" Amrungil asked through spasms.

"An elf that feels that you are not welcome here," he said cryptically.

"I… I know you.." Amrungil paused, her brow drawn in thought as her mind recollected memories, trying desperately to place the face as she unsteadily gained her feet.

"It is unlikely. But I know who and what you are," the elf said, rising up and posturing himself a little too close for Amrungil's liking. "I know the true you. You may have Lord Elrond fooled, but you do not fool my eyes." With a snarl, he grabbed Amrungil roughly and pulled her so close their noses were almost touching, "Yarna di'thang!"

Amrungil gasped at the elf, her eyes widening. Her voice was barely over as whisper as she recognized the elf holding her tightly, and sneering at her, "You.. you gave me my name. That is what the elves called me when my master would send me to them."

"Yes," the elf growled, his eyes sweeping over the cleaned, porcelain features of the former slave. "Yarna di'thang means 'decrepit slave'. You will never be of noble birth, no matter how much you change yourself and try to hide behind this pretense of being of my kind."

Amrungil felt her heart stop, her stomach dropped, her mouth went dry as fear overwhelmed her. She could only stare wide-eyed and open mouthed at the elf roughly holding her.

"I think you need to be reminded of your place, slave," the elf hissed in her ear as he began to steer her down the hall, "You will not bring your human filth to this hallowed place!"

"Please, no. Not again," Amrungil began to plead. Her whimpers were drowned out by the elf covering her mouth with his hand as he forced her down the hall.

Mustering all her strength, she pulled away and scratched the elf's face, ripping several angry bloody streaks down his face, "NO! No more! Father will not let you!"

The words were barely out of her mouth when she started at what she just said, her eyes wide and wild in shock.

The elf snarled viciously, striking her across the face and roughly threw her against the wall, pinning her easily with his pressed body, "You have no claim to Lord Elrond. You are just a human slave and I will not allow you to remain here and soil this land!"

The elf pulled a long pale knife from sheave on his back. Amrungil closed her eyes, choking back her fear and waited for the blow to fall.

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AN: Well, do you hate me now with all the cliffies? giggles There are about three more chapters left and then, sadly, this story is over. hears groans from readers Yes, I know.. but fear not! For there are two short ficcies ready to be uploaded and hopefully, muse willing, a nice LONG story to begin its posting. The shorter fics are centered around 'secondary' characters but the big one will be focused on Haldir and his lovely pain in the butt brothers. EG Until that time…. Keep reading and remember to drop a note telling me what ya think. :D