A/N - THANKS so much to the people who have reviewed: Chook, luminous ONE, Shallan, and Indil Elondili! I really appreciate it (I know this is kind of a quirky story and format)! And fear not, I have no intention of killing Legolas off :-D

As always, big THANKS to my sis, Arien, without whom I would never have had the courage to put any of my writing up for other people to read.

The morning brought a gray dawn, but the rain continued. Tinuviel lay curled in a ball in the corner of her cell, watching as the water dripped through the ceiling and splattered on the stone floor to flow down to the holes cut deep in the stone floor. Already they were overflowing, it would not take many more days of rain before the whole room was flooded. Tinuviel could not muster the enthusiasm to care overmuch. If it would not have taken too much effort, and more courage than she had at the moment, she would have drowned herself in the water already collected in the room.

Hope had fled and had taken her will with it. Legolas was not coming, he was probably even now laying dead in this accursed excuse for a forest. The taint of evil was thick, she could feel it's filthy tendrils crawling over her skin leaving her feeling unclean. When the heavy door of the cell swung open, Tinuviel did not even bother raising her head, she did not care who it was.

"I know you are awake." Aldan's voice echoed through the dim chamber, but Tinuviel did not stir. "Do not make it harder on you than it must be." Aldan strode forward and pulled her up by her bound hands to stand before him. The bonds cut into the flesh of her wrists, but she no longer cared. She did not cower, there was nothing more he could do to her. But neither did she rage. There was no use. She had no weapon and her voice had been silenced, there was nothing she could do now but await her fate.

Aldan smiled at her defeat, evil and self satisfied and looking more like a demon than an Elf. In fact, Tinuviel thought, he did not deserve to count himself among the fair people she had come to know and love. In that moment she hated him with every fiber of her being and if she could have had one wish granted at this moment it would be for him to die a slow and painful death. Her hate must have shown in her eyes because his smile faltered ever so slightly. "Come on, then. Time to be on our way." Grabbing her roughly by the arm, he pulled her out of the room beside him.

Outside the dark tower ruin, Aldan's horse was waiting, already laden with provisions for the trip they were taking. Tinuviel noticed there was only the one horse, apparently the two of them were going alone, and he didn't trust her to ride by herself. Easily lifting her up, he settled her on the horse and jumped up behind her. "After you take care of our visitors, follow."

It irked Aldan that he would not personally be the one to finally end Legolas' life, he had waited so long for just this moment, but The Master wanted his property and it was up to Aldan to deliver the human girl to Mordor. For what he was offering Aldan, power beyond his wildest dreams, he could afford to let this slide, especially knowing he took the one thing from Legolas that would hurt him the most. As they rode south toward Mordor, leaving Dol Guldur and Mirkwood far behind, Aldan could not help but gloat a bit. "I'm afraid you will be a widow soon, my dear. But, no worry, I'm sure we can make other arrangements." As disgusted as she was by Aldan, the one bit of information that Tinuviel clung to was the fact that Legolas was not dead. If he was alive, then there was yet hope, and she would not let him down again.

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Legolas roused everyone as soon as dawn began peeking over the edge of the wood. Not that it made it any easier to see under the heavy canopy of trees and the steady fall of rain. But he knew it was morning, and it was time. Leaning over, he shook Boromir's shoulder. "It is morning, we must go now." He did likewise with Aragorn and Gimli, each rousing almost immediately and making himself ready for battle.

The closer they moved toward Dol Guldur, the more evil creatures they encountered. Huge snakes and spiders, though none as large as they once had been, their kind had been driven from Mirkwood forever, thank goodness. And some creatures that never saw the light of day and had no names by which those of the sunlit world knew them. But despite all that lay in their path, they made their way to Dol Guldur without hesitation. When they did not meet any patrols along the way, they knew they would be expected. The question was, would they be strong enough to emerge victorious? Would they be in time to save Tinuviel?

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Gandalf and Arien could neither one go back to sleep. Instead they sat there, silent, waiting for daybreak so that they might ride into battle with the others. The rain continued steadily and the only indication that morning had arrived was a hazy grayness that replaced the black gloom of night.

Heedless of the rain, Gandalf gathered together their packs and called for Shadowfax. The loyal horse came without hesitation, and soon enough the two of them were off, riding now into the darkest heart of the wood.

Arien could feel nothing but evil all around her, and held more tightly to Gandalf. Whenever thoughts of Tinuviel and what the poor girl had endured entered her mind, her hand would itch for the hilt of her sword. She wanted revenge, justice for the girl she didn't even know and yet knew more than she could understand. As they moved ever closer, she could see things in the gloom that she did not want to know, hear things she did not want to think about. If they all made it out of this alive it would be a miracle indeed.

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The rain fell hard on the trampled earth surrounding the fallen tower making it into a mire, a sucking bog that made movement difficult at best. The small contingent of humans and orcs led by the remaining two Elves waited anxiously for the first attack.

They struck just before dawn, under the cover of the twilight. Arrows flying through the brightening sky, meeting their marks with deadly accuracy. But the small band of rescuers did not have the element of surprise for long. Three orcs and a human were down, but that still left them outnumbered nearly three to one. It didn't matter. If it had been a hundred to one they would still have fought.

And fight they did. When the arrows were exhausted, they moved forward and engaged with blades. It was a bloody battle, and dirty, the mud sucking at their feet as they tried to move, tried to gain some advantage, but there was none to be had. They fought long and hard and at the moment it seemed they would fail, a light brightened in the darkness. From behind them shone a blinding light. The wind carried with it the sound of a thundering voice and the ground trembled. The small band of friends turned, and what they saw gave them hope. Gandalf stood, shining bright in the darkness of the forest, his hands upraised, the howling winds swirling around him making his mane of white hair seem an ethereal veil floating about his head. Strong and terrible he stood, holding his staff in one hand and his sword, glowing blue, in the other. "Evil shall not prevail here this day."

As if buoyed up by unseen hands, the fellowship moved forward, ever more determined to fight and win. Gandalf joined into the fight, his magic exploding all around them. From the darkness of the forest, like a shining, avenging angel, Arien came riding forward, Shadowfax plunging into the fray with no fear. Holding tightly to Shadowfax's mane, the sword Elrond had gifted her with was brandished high, slashing down at the enemy with vengeance and cold anger. Blood, red and black, stained the bottom of her dress in an abstract pattern of violence, but she did not care. Every ounce of hatred she had felt growing within her since she had felt Tinuviel's pain was visited upon whomever stood in her way.

The fight raged on until none stood but Legolas and his band of friends. They were dirty, covered in mud and muck, blood and gore, but there was a feeling of satisfaction, accomplishment. Hesitating for just a moment, Legolas looked around at his friend, whole and alive, and was thankful to the gods that he could count himself so lucky as to be blessed with such a band of brothers. Without a word, for none was needed, he ran forward into Dol Guldur, searching for Tinuviel.

Jumping down from Shadowfax, her sword still in her hand, Arien strode forward into the gathering of men. The first thing she noticed was the anger flashing in Aragorn's eyes. "Did I not expressly forbid you to leave Rivendell? You have no business here, you could easily have been killed."

Arien's eyes flashed green fire. "As could you, any of you might have died. It is my life, my choice and you have no say in it."

Aragorn looked as if he might say more, but he was stayed by Gandalf's hand. "No, Aragorn. She is here because she is needed. She belongs here as much as you or I."

Unable to argue with the ancient wizard, Aragorn ground his teeth together, the anger he felt did not lessen with the wizard's wise words. "As you say, Gandalf."

The tension of the circle was fierce, the heat of the battle they had waged still flowing in their veins. It was as if everyone was wrapped in some unseen force that they waited to be released from. In truth, they waited for some sign of Tinuviel, that she was alive or dead.

All eyes turned toward the ruined tower as Legolas exited the dark mass of tumbled stone and suddenly the force that held them was dissipated. There was no longer any sense of tension or readiness to do battle. There was nothing but weariness and sorrow. Head held low, Legolas came forward, a scrap of Tinuviel's dress in his hands, dirty, bloodstained. "She is not here." His voice, normally so lyrical, so resonant, seemed hollow and distant to their ears. "She is gone." Dropping the scrap of material onto the dying fire, he turned toward the edge of the trees.

Aragorn turned to follow his friend, to offer him some modicum of comfort, but he was stayed by Boromir's hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps, just now, it would be better if he were alone."

It hurt them all to see the defeat in Legolas' dark eyes. The utter despair that shone where, a mere week ago, there had been nothing but joy and contentment. How soon the world could turn and that which you loved most could be stolen away. Aragorn knew the pain Legolas was feeling and it hurt him, perhaps more than anyone, that there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help.

Everyone remained silent as they began moving slowly down the road that would lead them out of Mirkwood. Everyone walked, even Gandalf for Shadowfax had been injured in the fight and so was not able to bear a rider. Two horses had been taken from the camp, but they were so frightened they could not be mounted. The small group did not go far, wishing only to be away from the evil that pervaded the area around Dol Guldur. And though Legolas said not one word to anyone as they made camp, he swore that he would never again set foot on the cursed soil of Dol Guldur.

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That night as they slept, an uneasiness flowed through the camp. Nothing that anyone could have named, but none slept well. Legolas kept watch, not even wishing to walk the waking dreamlands of Elves. He felt a pulling, an urge to move, to run, but he did not know the way. Deep in his heart he knew that Tinuviel lived, knew it with every breath in his body, but she could have been a wisp of air for as much good as his knowing did him. And he would no more be able to touch a strand of her hair as he would to catch a wisp of air in his hand.

Deep in the night, in the unnatural darkness of the canopy of trees, Arien turned fitfully in her sleep. Strange images assailed her. Gandalf, ever watchful, lay awake and watched and waited. This was the key, the window he had been waiting for. Arien was the key to finding Tinuviel. Though Aragorn may not have wished to admit it, she was the most important element to bringing Tinuviel back to the husband who loved her.

A dark horse. Two riders, a tall man, a weeping woman, silhouetted against the moon. The land stretching out around them was barren and cold. They rode hard, the horse below them barely carrying their weight as his flanks heaved and his muscles shook from the exertion. All around them was nothing, but ahead, looming in the distance, was a dark, evil, menacing shadow.

Arien screamed as she woke. Struggling against bonds that did not exist. Feeling pains that were not her own. "NO! Please, don't take me there. I'd rather die." Her breath was shallow, her body covered with a sheen of cold perspiration. She felt fear and despair. As her eyes focused she could see everyone hovering around her, wakened from their own restless sleep by her cries.

"Have you had another vision?" Aragorn's blue eyes seemed to flicker with concern, but it was fleeting and quickly concealed.

She searched out Legolas, who sat pensive, waiting, the hope reflected in his eyes almost a tangible thing that made Arien's heart ache, hoping against hope that what she'd seen was more than a wishful dream. "Yes. I have seen them riding across a barren plain." She looked at Gandalf, who, no matter what, seemed always to be one step ahead and completely unsurprised by anything she said. "He's taking her toward Mordor." She chanced a glance at Aragorn, knowing the thoughts he harbored and knowing that he was wondering if this was some sort of trick to lure them into an elaborate trap. She could not thing about that now, her only concern was for Tinuviel now. "Legolas, she is alive and he is taking her toward Mordor. I don't know why, I couldn't see that, but you must go. Now." She grabbed his hand and held it in earnest. "Please trust me."

"I trust you." There was determination in his stride as he gathered one of the horses they had captured. The stallion reared, but Legolas lay a hand on his flank, stroking the other over his wild mane. He murmured something low and the horse began to steady. Grabbing his mane, the nimble Elf swung himself onto the back of the great beast and pulled him away from the others.

"Wait," Boromir called out after him, "You cannot go alone."

Legolas turned back to the company of friends. "I was wrong before, I did need you. And I need you now."

Aragorn and Gimli stood at the side of the horse. "Then wait and let us go with you."

The tall Elf shook his fair head. "No. I need you to go to the river and gather the horses then procure a boat. If... when I find Tinuviel she will need to be taken to Lothlorien. Be my friends, do this for me. Wait for us by the river. Wait for three days. If we are not there, leave a boat and go on to Lorien." He did not wait for an answer and he did not say the good-byes that stuck in his throat. Digging his heels into the horse's sides, he pushed the beast through the trees, heading toward Mordor.