Alright… I've had a couple requests for a Leherim point of view. It's not going to happen, but you can assume it was probably much the same, with Elrohir instead of Mirimir. Also, Leherim is NOT dead. She and Elrohir sailed into the west. I repeat: NOT DEAD! Eventually she'll be seen again.

Okay, I had a complaint that the term she-elf is a derogatory one, equivalent to b****. I don't believe that, sorry to anyone who does, but I can't think of another way to make the differentiation between males and females. I utterly refuse to call any she-elf a woman. They are not of men, and shouldn't be called as if they are. Personally, if I were a she-elf, I would be a lot more annoyed being called woman than anything else. What do you guys think?

Farflung: Yeah, I remember that mess. Mine was worse though because I put off deciding where to go until the day before the final one to enroll for the next year. Sorry if it was a bit abrupt, but they both knew long ago that one day she would leave and he would stay. After all, Elrond had nothing keeping him there, and if the twins didn't go with him they would have to remain on middle-earth to one day die. So Leherim, of course, went with her husband.

Green *Eyed*Elf*Goddess: Makes sense to me. Let me know when you're posting.

To everyone who reviewed: Thank you, I appreciate it… and I was admittedly shocked when I apparently got no reviews because their e-mail system failed. Keep that in mind if you reviewed recently with a question in your review that I haven't tried to answer. And spring break is coming up, so after next week, there won't be updates for one/one & a half weeks. After that I'll go back to at least one update per week.

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Even as Legolas smiled and lifted a hand to greet his friend, he felt Mirimir study the short being curiously.

What is it?

That's Gimli, he murmured in amusement, getting down to properly meet with the dwarf. "It is good to see you, Master Dwarf."

"Well, Master Elf, I must say I am glad to see you as well. And who is this?" Gimli tilted his head curiously at Mirimir. "I would say the princess, but I always thought your sister would share your golden looks."

"That she does. This is Mirimir," he reached up and settled his hands about her waist, tugging her from the back of his horse to the ground. "Mirimir, this is Gimli."

"I have heard of you," Gimli stated, looking her up and down. "And for what he told me of you, he told me neither that you were so lovely, nor that you were of his height."

Mirimir blinked, then smiled faintly. "I have read much about dwarves… and you do not seem to be one of them, despite what Legolas has said. He has told me of you as well… and did not tell me you were so short."

Gimli laughed heartily, his small dark eyes dancing with mirth. "Then there is something the elves fail to do perfectly—recount to other races the differences between them."

"Enough!" Legolas laughed softly. "Are you going to ride with us, Gimli?"

"I will travel with you… but I still have no great love for horses."

Mirimir smiled. "Then I am not alone in my preference for my own feet," she stated, lifting teasing eyes from Gimli to Legolas.

For his part, he crooked a brow and looked at the pair of them with mocking disgust. "To scorn such a fine creature as this horse has proven himself to be is a crime against the very fabric of the world."

"I have nothing against the horse, Legolas, merely in riding him." Mirimir sent him a slight smile and set off walking.

Mirimir?

What?

Gondor is to the South.

Aren't I going South?

No… If you keep going that way, you're going to end up in the West, eventually.

Oh. She was silent for a long moment, having come to a complete stop. Finally she turned around, tilting her head. Well?

Legolas chuckled softly and tilted his head in the correct direction. "This way," he instructed.

The three… and the horse… continued walking towards Minas Tirith. It took them several days from where they had met with Gimli, but their pace was not hurried, as the two friends shared the times between their last meeting, and jested over things from the quest.

Their arrival was expected, and they were led into the great hall at once, where Aragorn and Arwen rose from their throne to greet them.

"Welcome, my dear friends," Aragorn murmured, greeting both in the custom of their people. "Legolas? Who is this lovely lady?"

Legolas lifted a brow slightly. "Mirimir. She agreed to accompany me, to see more of Middle-Earth."

Arwen frowned slightly when she looked at Mirimir's eyes, and scanned her face quickly. "You have seen things of horror greater than any who endured the quest… save only, perhaps, the ring bearer."

Mirimir frowned, and slowly shook her head. "I don't know what you mean, Evenstar."

"You shall not ever be able to entirely forget, no matter how hard you try." Arwen's frown deepened, before she called for a servant, instructing the young girl to show Mirimir to a guest room. When Mirimir was safely out of earshot, Arwen turned to Legolas. "What happened to her?"

"She doesn't speak of it," he defended slightly.

"She tries to forget… but she should not be allowed to do so."

"Why would she want to remember, Arwen?" He turned slightly, his fists clenching as he recalled her pitiful initial state. "When first I laid eyes upon her she looked less human than the wild men do. She had shackles and metal over her head and ears. She was on the verge of death—beaten, burned, covered in dirt, ash and blood. She walked as any animal—on all fours, crouched. She expected blows from every male around… and was uncomfortable with anyone, though she only expected physical abuse from males. It took many years for her to grow comfortable enough she didn't hide and cower when she heard my voice…" In agitation he ran a hand through his hair. "It was only in the last few years that she began walking as any would have expected. In truth, I did not know of her height until I returned from our adventure. Speech came a while after that, slow and hesitant—she had been told she would die if ever she spoke. She remembered that much, Arwen, and it held her silent for far too long."

His three friends looked after him in concern when he turned away, his shoulders tense. Arwen was the only one to speak. "As it was with Leherim, it is with her, isn't it?"

Slowly he nodded. "Yes. From the day our families united."

"Would you speak so I can understand?" Gimli growled.

"It is not something they would wish told to the entire hall," Aragorn stated softly. "A most horrifying tale."

"Not a tale, Elessar," Arwen murmured, a faint frown on her brow as she studied Legolas, "merely a statement. An instant in a life spent in unknown despair. She seeks to forget it, tries to convince herself it is nothing but nightmares, false memories. If she is allowed to do so, a good portion of what she has become will be destroyed… as will she, eventually."

"How can forgetting that which nearly killed her destroy her?"

"If she forgets the truth, she will eventually seek it out, not knowing why she forgot it. And when she finds it, what then? When she has succeeded in forgetting everything before she was taken to the palace, how will she survive the return of memory when she finds the truth?"

Legolas's breath hissed in as he understood what she was getting at. "But how could she ever forget it? She knows it was her father who told her not to speak."

"She knows it now, yes. But one day she may convince herself it was just a dream, an illusion."

"She is too intelligent for that."

"An injured heart often overwhelms the mind, Legolas. I said she would be unable to forget… I hoped to convince her, for it is too possible that she will succeed."

He frowned at her. "Then what is to be done?"

"You have the ability to reach her, Legolas. Use the gift you share to keep her aware of the truth."

"At what cost?" he asked bitterly, not relishing the idea of forcing Mirimir to speak of something that was indescribably hideous, if the slight remnants of emotion from her nightmares she unintentionally sent him were of any indication.

"The connection cannot be permanently closed, can it?"

"Leherim and I never tried."

Arwen sighed softly, and shook her head. "I don't know, Legolas. She is your concern more than mine. I just hope you do what's best… for you both."

He frowned at the nearly inaudible addition, noting that Aragorn heard it as well, though he would bet she hadn't intended that. He shook his head slightly and crossed his arms over his chest. "Are we to be shown rooms as well, or shall we take our rest as we did when last traveling together?"

"Speak for yourself, Elf. I never went on so little sleep in my life as when I had to keep up with you."

He smiled faintly at his vertically challenged friend, but lifted a brow at Gondor's Queen.

She made a small motion, and a servant stepped forward. "You will show Prince Legolas to the room to the west of Mirimir's. Gimli is to be placed across the hall."

The servant's face registered shock, first at the declaration of his title, then at her decision for his room, but she said nothing, leading them quietly away. She paused, opening the door for Gimli first, then turning to the room across the hall. "This is your room… your highness."

He sighed softly, muttering under his breath about shaking Arwen.

The girl looked up at him in shock. "Beg pardon?"

He shook his head dismissively. "Nothing," he murmured, switching his tongue so she knew what he was saying.

"Need you anything?"

"Nothing I cannot find." Hopefully.

The servant bowed her head and backed out of the room.

Mirimir?

Hmm?

He smiled faintly. Sorry. Go back to resting.

Hmm.

His smile grew to a true grin as her presence faded into absent slumber again. With a quick turn of his gaze about the room, he understood the cause of the servant's second instant of surprise, and reconsidered whether or not he should shake Arwen. Still, announcing his title here was only a way to give the humans another reason to be uncomfortable around him.

Pressing against the shutters until they swung out he was able to catch a bit of the breeze, letting his head rest against the cool stone. He did his best to block the slight twinges he was getting from Mirimir's dreams, needing a moment to think on his own.

"I'm sorry if I spoke at a poor time."

He smiled faintly. "You are not," he accused softly.

"No, I suppose not." There was a faint smile in her voice. "How was Elrohir?"

"He was well, last I could speak with Leherim."

"Good. He was always happy with her."

"And she with him."

Louder footsteps echoed down the hall. "Legolas, I—" Aragorn stopped, his normally confident steps halting as abruptly as his words. "I think I'm interrupting something."

"Just catching up on family news," Legolas offered softly when Arwen remained silent. He turned at last to see them, smiling faintly as he saw Aragorn try to grapple with a bit of jealously the man knew was ridiculous.

"Ah," Aragorn stated after a moment, having won out over his emotions once more. "Well, the meal shall be ready soon."

"Then I shall wake Mirimir, shan't I?" Legolas smiled faintly at Aragorn's slight annoyance when he didn't move. Mirimir, wake up.

No.

Come on, little one. Aragorn and Arwen are in here, and I rather think they'd like you to join us.

Here where?

You know that quite well. He blinked slightly, seeing a look exchanged between the King and Queen. Come along.

"You needn't make me sound like a recalcitrant child, Legolas," she chided softly, walking through the connecting door that stood between their rooms.

"Sorry," he offered softly, smiling as she blinked a bit of glassiness from her eyes.

"Hmm," she murmured softly, reaching past him to close the window. "Storm's coming," she explained.

He looked into her eyes, pale grey and filled with shadows left over from her dreams. "So I see," he agreed softly.