LadyJadePerendhil: There will be a little bit more of Kalick… at least in this chapter, maybe a bit farther on. She doesn't say he didn't die, she says He (her father) didn't kill him. Kalick gave up on life and faded away.

Animir: I wrote that she closed her eyes to keep from sleeping. I don't know if that's how it would really work (of course, we're discussing a fictional race). Tolkien writes that elves can take rest—such as they need—with their eyes open. If they don't sleep with their eyes open, I don't really know. It's a common thing in fanfics that I've read to have it be the case that even when they lay down to sleep their eyes are open. I've just taken it a step farther here, saying that at least Mirimir cannot rest with her eyes closed; her world dark.

Princess Myra: Kalick is truly dead, and I don't plan on having him reborn. It's possible, I suppose… Elrohir played tricks, yes.

Galorin: Yeah, Kalick was her older brother. There's more about that below.

D. K. Blackwater: It will take a while, and so far, Thranduil is the only one to see it.

Thanks for reading and reviewing to: Elainor, Iluvien, Tara6, Coolio02 & Mystress Deidra.

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"I'm sorry," he murmured softly, his hands resting outside of hers on the balcony as his warmth soaked into her back. "You do like this garden, don't you?"

"Yes," she agreed. "Things went well?"

"Fairly," he agreed softly, stepping slightly closer. "And you are?" he trailed off, letting her choose to answer however she would.

"I'm all right," she answered quietly after a moment, her pause concerning him when her words should have reassured him.

"Have you gotten any rest?" he pressed gently, the majority of him hoping she had, for her sake, but part of him liking the thought that she might need him for something so basic as rest.

She sighed and looked down at some of the flowers she had recently planted in the garden, not seeing their new growth. "No," she admitted after a pause, her voice low. "It seems every time I try to rest, I find someone else I had forgotten."

He was silent for a long moment. "Someone else?"

She almost smiled faintly at his horrified tones, but the things she was remembering, whether she was asleep or not, made it impossible. "Yes. Kalick was my older brother. He held on the longest."

"Oh, Valar," he breathed. "Others died?"

"My sisters, my mother."

His head dropped down, his forehead resting on her shoulder. "I've had Kalick added. Their names? Ages?" He sounded slightly strangled, his voice raspy and hoarse.

Absently she lifted a hand, rubbing her thumb behind his ear before letting her fingers slide through his hair, eventually settling her hand on one of his. He turned it, taking it to her waist for a partial hold. She sighed. "Mother's name I don't recall yet. Yeradriel wasn't much younger than me." Mirimir tilted her head, seeing one instant of true happiness in the lives of her and her siblings. "She was the only one with light blue eyes. The other's eyes were darker, at least until the end neared. Rallene was truly the baby. She never learned to walk."

"He killed her that young?"

"She was not killed… she just never learned to walk, not even such as I had. He never killed anyone, as far as I know…"

"What do you mean?" he asked huskily.

"We never spoke. Kalick could, and sometimes did, would cry or yell… but the rest of us were mute, and were beaten for so much as whimpering, if He could hear us. But it is possible there were others… before Kalick." With a shake of her head she ducked under his arm, heading back into the halls. "I wouldn't know."

"Do you know why he was the way he was?"

"No. I only know He swore to kill us if we ever spoke, and that his actions drove every thought of hope and joy from the eyes of my siblings."

Legolas hesitated, but followed her, feeling exhausted by the emotions running through him. They hadn't let up in so long… "Then how have you survived?"

She froze, frowned slightly and continued. "I had to."

"But how?"

"I don't know how, just that I had to. I had to go on. For them. Because they thought I would make it."

"Why?"

"Does it matter? They thought I would, and Kalick…"

"Kalick?" he asked, stopping her with a hand on her arm when she would have moved on past him despite his question. He sighed, reaching up to caress her cheek gently, soothingly. "I'm getting something from you, but I can't identify it." He frowned as that unidentifiable something twisted again within his chest.

"Well, I doubt you ever sacrificed yourself for Leherim in quite the way he did for me and our sisters, so…" she shook her head and pulled her arm loose as he was struck with the implication. "Legolas… I need to think this through."

"You're telling me to get lost?"

"The memories are coming through more strongly while you're gone. But they have managed to arrange themselves in such a way I remember a comfort when I need it."

He let out a short laugh. "So you're telling me you don't need—or want—me around right now?"

"Basically," she agreed. A flicker from blue eyes in her memory, so dark they were nearly black, contradicted her quickly. She took a deep breath and steeled herself against them, recalling instead a smile Kalick gave her at one moment when He was out of the house, and they were locked up, mostly uninjured, in the small cellar.

"You will make it," he promised her, touching her cheek lightly. "You will survive."

She looked at him with wide eyes, frowned in uncertainty.

"Yes you will," he insisted with a faint smile.

She shook her head, bringing her back to the present to see normally bright blue eyes darkening slightly, the dark edges spoking in to meet, worrying about her. "What?" she asked, tilting her head at him.

"You aren't telling me something."

"What?" she asked, forcing a slight smile.

"I don't know," he admitted, frowning, "but I wish I did."

"Why?"

"Because then I wouldn't have to either drag it out of you, or accept that you won't be telling me."

"You don't have to accept it. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Mirimir, don't insult me. I was linked with Leherim for nearly three thousand years. I can tell you are hiding something, and that you are well aware of it."

She looked at him, shrugged and opened the door to her room.

"Mirimir," he growled, stopping the door from swinging closed on him. He stepped in and closed it behind him.

"What?"

He frowned at her, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read her well enough to gauge what she was hiding. "Why won't you tell me?"

"Did Leherim never keep anything silent?"

"You saw it."

"That was the only time?" she asked in astonishment.

With a faint frown lingering he nodded. "Yes. And it was one time too many, in my opinion."

She shook her head. "I can't believe she always told you everything."

"Pretty much. Why wouldn't she?"

"Some things aren't worth sharing, and some should be secret."

"Why?"

She stared at him like he'd grown an extra head. "Because some things are private."

"Between any two people who don't have the chance we have, Mirimir. Most people can never truly know anyone else, can never get any closer than knowing approximately what's probably being thought of about certain things. Only three inches, but it can be a very lonely distance. That distance isn't between us, and never has to be."

She reached up and touched his cheek. "In this, it does. I am recalling things that make me want to crawl out of my own skin. It is an alienation you never need to feel."

"And if I want to feel it? If I want to be there for you?"

"You will always be there, if I need you. But I don't. This is one of those things that needs to be done alone." She tucked a bit of light golden hair behind one of his ears, drawing her fingers down the silken length to the ends, dropping them lightly against his chest. "You have had such things, I know you have."

"Of course, but it doesn't mean I shut…" He broke off and turned his head to the side. He sighed softly. "You plan to spare me, is that it?"

"And why not?"

"Because I don't wish to be spared."

She looked up into his flashing eyes, and slowly shook her head. "It is not your choice. It is mine, and I have made it. This is something I must do alone, just as I had to decide to give living here a chance. There is nothing you can say or do to make me change my mind about this."

He looked back at her, his jaw tight. He bit off his words, his eyes narrowing even farther as he spoke, his anger making the words nearly come out as a hiss. "I doubt I shall have to, once the memories become bad enough."

As he made to leave the room, she found a small bit of strength she had long ago forgotten. "I am not a child, Legolas. I am not weak. I have never been weak, even if I have allowed myself to lean on you too much, for too long. I stand before you now, on my own, and I know I can stand alone. I shall, as I have most of my life."

"You couldn't even stand not a decade ago. Not truly. Why this sudden change, this desire for independence?"

She studied his face for a moment, then took a breath and lifted her chin. "I need to be on my own. You have acted as a shield, Legolas, when I needed to be pushed into the fray. I am an elf, partly in thanks to you, but I have never been an elf before, not truly. I cannot become who I was meant to be if you are forever hunting me out if I feel even the slightest flicker of pain. When I came, you saw me as a child, took me in, taught me, trained me, as if I was your own offspring. But you never let me fall, never let me make my own mistakes." She smiled faintly, sadly, and reached up to lay her palm against his cheek. "You have to let me go."

He stared at her in stunned silence for a while, then placed his hand over hers, turning his head slightly to kiss her palm. "It is difficult."

"Yes," she agreed softly, "but it must be done." Just as this had to be done.

He threaded his fingers with hers, frowning at a space behind her as he thought things out. "If you are in earnest, as I believe you are… then I should go. If I'm here, I will always come when you need me." He snorted ruefully. "And even when you don't, apparently."

"Legolas, for a long time that is what I needed most—someone I could trust to be there, someone who would help me when I needed it. A solid presence, a constant friend. But now I need room to grow."

"I would have you stay here, though. Spread your wings in the safety of familiar spaces, venture into waters you know." He nodded. "That would be best."

"Then what of you? You cannot exactly leave."

"And why not? I have considered removing to Fangorn since I first stepped into that wood, and I know we would be welcomed. As it will not be many years before the journey to the undying lands is undertaken, there is no reason any would be against filling that wood with light for the time we remain."

"Not even your father?"

"He will understand, and accept my decision." Legolas nodded slightly and brought her hand up to his lips. "I shall speak with him in the morning, then."

She nodded, and let out a sigh of relief when he finally left. With him in Fangorn, the connection wouldn't be so easy. It would still work, but the distance provided a sort of interference, which blocked a good portion of emotion unless they were already talking when the emotions were felt.

But that wasn't the real reason she was shoving him out the door.

The funny thing was he would probably never realize she was still terrified of falling to her dreams, still afraid when she faced her memories, still uncertain she could face them on her own. She would have to, because she didn't intend for him to ever realize she was pushing him away because he needed to be gone. Not for her sake, but for his.