Alright. I'm back. Not necessarily a good thing—all new classes. Sorry the updates were a bit more sporadic than usual before I left. I had too many term papers, finals, job interviews to set up/prepare for, extra work for my current job, packing to do for my trip (to the interviews), and one of my life-long friends passed away. So, obviously, things were a little hectic on my end. I nearly threw in the towel on my stories completely.

But then I looked at my reviews, and though I'm beginning to wonder at my own sanity for continuing this, as some people actually like my plot, my characters… I'm continuing for them.

And responding to their comments/questions:

Farflung: My two weeks weren't all that great… but I'm less sleep deprived! That's a good thing, right? I'm still playing around with how exactly to begin this whole upcoming mess. But a mess it will be. It really has to be, I think. Well, no omelets without breaking eggs, right? I hate eggs. Okay, I'm rambling…

Tara6: Yeah, you can believe Arwen. Some say she turns into a woman when she makes her choice, but I still think of her as an elf, so she retains much of her elvenness (is that a word??).

LadyJadePerendhel: Um… good point. I kindof forgot about that. Well, I'll find some place for it… just not in this chapter. Feel free to bring it up again if I forget.

Maren L P: If she forgets, eventually she would wonder what she had forgotten, and try to find it again. The first time around, she survived because she didn't know there was anything else. She didn't know things were supposed to be better. Reliving her memories after living in mountain with the royal family would throw things in stark relief. The horrors she went through could destroy her if she managed to forget them only to recall them. If, however, she remembers them, even if in a diluted way, she should be all right.

Princess Myra: I was a bit sorry to see her go, too, but I always thought the twins went with Elrond when he goes to the undying lands, so she had to go. As no one would ask her about things that all could see would be painful, it would be quite hard to pinpoint exactly where she began forgetting. Psychologically speaking, she could have begun forcing herself to forget when she began to get more comfortable with Legolas, as her past experience wouldn't allow her to be comfortable with him in the least. As she couldn't shut Legolas out, she shut out the reason she felt she should. Cognitive dissonance theory, if you're bored.

Green*Eyed*Elf*Goddess: Did I answer everything?

Emeraleyes: Thanks! I tend to get bored with really explicit, over-written stories which pin down every thought and idea. If I wanted that, I'd buy another textbook to read. Glad you enjoy.

Thanks to the rest of you who reviewed my story! On to more… though since I've been gone, this chapter may be considered 'filler'. Well, better than nothing, right? After all, this way you know I'm still alive, and still writing.

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"What's the matter?"

Legolas lowered his unseeing gaze and shook his head. "You as well?"

"What do you mean?"

Legolas sighed and turned to face his father. "Leherim never let me stew, Mirimir doesn't—which is why I've come here, since she knows she's not allowed—and now you."

"Why should anyone let you stew? What is the matter, son?"

With a shake of his head Legolas folded himself into one of the chairs. "Mirimir can speak, yet she never speaks of what brought her here. I have come across evidence now that she is forgetting it."

"Forgetting? That's not possible!"

"That's what I thought… but it seems to be true. She will recall nothing before Leherim. Forgetting is not something elves do. Why should she, no matter how painful her past memories must be?"

"Maybe she isn't really forgetting at all. Perhaps she is just refusing to speak—"

"Father, I felt her confusion, and I saw the blankness in her eyes. She doesn't know what her name was, doesn't know—"

"Maybe… Maybe she never had a name, Legolas. She was in a bad way when she was brought here."

"True, but if she had always been treated so horribly she would never have made it to being brought to us."

"Wasn't she extremely close?"

"Yes," Legolas agreed softly, closing his eyes. He laid his head back on the edge of the chair, and let out a sigh. "But she has come back, learned to read, started speaking… She seems as any other elf, save for her hair, but she isn't. She lived through atrocities we would never consider an elf capable of creating, and she has said nothing about it. She needs to remember, to let it go."

Thranduil considered his son and the problem at hand for a long moment. He turned his gaze from contemplating a bit of dust to Legolas's darker than cheerful eyes. "You fear for her."

"Yes." Legolas nodded slightly.

"You worry if she forgets, and is later forced to remember, she will be unable to handle the truth."

"Yes. Arwen suggested that would happen."

"Do you believe it?"

"It makes perfect sense," Legolas frowned. "And yet, I am not sure. I want her to be happy, but I do worry about what will happen if she does allow herself to forget, and then one day searches for the memories. Right now, she is happy. If I pry, she won't be. She'll remember, be hurt all over again… and it will be my doing. I swore I would never hurt her. Several times."

"But if it is ultimately for her own good—"

Legolas shook his head. "She would be hurt, and I don't know that she would take the time to consider the truth about it, that I would only ever hurt her if I thought it would ultimately be in her best interest—and that is a trust I will not fail, not as long as I have any choice whatsoever."

"Then what are you to do?"

He sighed and closed his eyes once more. "Just be there, poke and prod her as gently as I can, and always be there when she begins aching, to help it go away."

"Isn't that kind of against the point?"

"The point is for her to remember, Father. Not for her to be hurt. If I can get her to remember without her sinking back into despair, then by all means, that's the way I want to go." He stood up abruptly, and paced over to the painting he had been staring at originally. He saw as much of the detail and design at that moment as he had to begin with. Absolutely none.

"How do you plan to do that?"

Silent for a long moment, Legolas finally frowned and lowered his head slightly. "She has nightmares. Nearly every night, in fact. I don't always wake up, because they aren't always that bad, but I usually do, because they usually are." He stopped there, shook his head slightly at his own idea and ran a hand through his hair.

"And?"

"And… and I can insist she tell me about them. In truth, I don't know why I haven't pressed for details before this… Well, perhaps that's not true. If I didn't ask, I wouldn't know."

"And as long as you don't know, you can sleep at night without those images haunting your dreams?"

With a shameful nod, Legolas turned. "Yes. I know what she will tell me will stun and horrify me—would horrify almost any elf and most humans, even though I've no doubt she would gloss over the details to spare me as much as she could. Orcs were treated better by the dark powers than she was by the one who held the keys to her bonds."

"You assume she will tell you," Thranduil muttered dryly.

"If she doesn't, there is another way I can find out… which I would rather not use."

"What are you considering?" Thranduil frowned, his eyes narrowing. "You aren't planning on—"

"A form of sharing I tried once with Leherim. It was not wholly successful, but with practice, I believe I could enter Mirimir's memories and see for myself what she is forgetting, hiding."

"Then could she not do the same thing to you?"

"Yes." Legolas shrugged. "I have nothing to hide from her—even memories from when she came I would not be against sharing with her, should she so wish."

"Then instead of taking her memories, give her some. Share yours with her, ask her to reciprocate. Show her your mother, ask to see hers. Nag her when she wakes you with bad dreams, but I do not wish to have her complain to me—ever—about you digging through her mind in such a way! And what do you know of such? Couldn't it be dangerous for you, as well? You said this was different from the way Galadriel touched your mind, so couldn't it be—"

"Enough!" Legolas held up his hands and forced a crooked smile. "Enough, Father. It is a very last resort, which I will only seriously consider once I am convinced there is no other way, and that she is in danger."

Thranduil looked at his son grimly. "If you are correct about her, if she is beginning to forget… then she is indeed in grave danger."