The last chapter was about forty or so years from the time Elrohir left.

Mirimir is more or less fine with Legolas… though still wary of anyone else. As far as they know, she has never spoken, and is incapable of speech.

I'm glad you don't think Mirimir is a Mary-Sue. I think every writer probably writes at least one that is sort of Sueish… and mine is unfortunately still posted, though a new review or positive comment pops up about it from time to time, so I probably won't ever remove it, though I cringe sometimes at some of the things I wrote. Thankfully, I've learned more about the characters and how to write cohesively. By the end of this story, hopefully all questions will be answered (and if not, I'll change things around until they are.).

What exactly is 'purple prose'? I write because I enjoy it… so if that's an English term or something, I'm utterly clueless (rather obviously, since I've asked.)

Maybe The Worry Stone is starting to influence my other stories in progress… this is a rather short chapter, for this story, anyway. Hopefully it won't happen often.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Relief flooded through Legolas when he saw the grey-eyed and dark-haired elf from Imladris. Looking at him, the elf smiled a polite hello.

"It is about time you arrived, Elladan," Legolas murmured. "Where is Elrohir?"

Elladan lifted a brow. "A new skill, Legolas?" he asked, as very few could ever tell them apart, especially when they had not been seen in several years.

"An old one put to use in a new way," he dismissed the comment, not caring to spell out how he knew which twin he was speaking to. He lifted a brow instead, silently reiterating his previous question.

"He headed off once we got here, mumbling something about a gar—Legolas?"

Legolas closed his eyes and slowly smiled. "He has found her."

"He… how… oh, never mind. Where are we to sleep? I am ready to rest for about an age."

"I hear things have been interesting in Imladris in recent years. A mortal, I believe?"

"Ah, yes, Estel. He's headed off to the wild, now. Joined the Rangers. Things have been quieter since, but Father and Gandalf always seem to be doing something. Not long ago Gandalf arrived with thirteen dwarves and a hobbit! Hard to imagine, him bringing so many dwarves to Imladris, even if it is known as the Last something or other to travelers."

"Thirteen, you say?" Legolas asked, lifting a brow as he slowed their journey down a hall. "Hard to imagine," he agreed, his brows knitting as his voice dropped to a growl. He would have to speak with Father. Perhaps this would help soothe the ruffled feathers caused by the grand escape. Of course, Mithrandir would have some explaining to do next time he showed up. "You two took longer than expected."

"Yes, Father detained us for a time. Truthfully, I think he was testing Elrohir."

"And?"

"And, I believe he shall arrive soon enough with Arwen, assuming things will go well here."

"She has a temper, but has missed him enough it won't matter."

"A bit of spirit is a good thing. Nice to know she hasn't lost what she gained in Imladris," Elladan murmured slyly, glancing at Legolas out of the corner of his eye.

"Unfortunately she has not," he agreed without missing a beat. "She still seems to like dwarves." With that Legolas left Elladan outside the rooms he and Elrohir would be sharing, and walked quickly to Mirimir's room. "Mirimir?" he called once inside, feeling the room was empty.

She came in from the library, her arms full of books which she dumped on the bed before taking one to a chair. She looked at him questioningly when she was settled and he still hadn't spoken.

"Elladan and Elrohir are here. All things considered, I came to warn you you probably won't see too much of us for a day or two. Things are going to be rather hectic." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'll be able to worm free by tomorrow evening, no doubt, but Leherim… you know how she got last time Elrohir was here." With a faint sigh he reached out and fingered a velvety leaf from her original plant. "They're pretty good company," he mused after a while, "and I suppose I should get used to them, since everyone involved in this mess who can look at the thing objectively thinks the Wood will soon be united with Imladris. Elrond's even arranged to bring Arwen here for the marriage, without Elrohir having spoken to Leherim, or Father, for that matter."

A faint sound made him turn his head to look at her. She was frowning lightly at him, in what he took to be reproach.

"So they'll be family. So what? Does that give them the right to… mess things up. Huh." He dropped down onto the bed and lifted a hand to his forehead, unaware of Mirimir just then. "Damn it all, she was right. I am jealous. Elrohir's stealing away my sister, and leaving me with nothing but her shadow, and memories of what I once had." He shook his head in annoyance, entirely self-directed. "No wonder I was making excuses not to be around them. They're ending all I've known."

He got up and absently glanced at Mirimir. "I should go… think things out," he murmured, motioning vaguely before he walked out.

Mirimir looked after him for a long moment, then turned her book around the right way and began reading.