Skids to a halt after legging it from Chapter 15.

I made it! Here we go, chapter 16.

Faerlain.

Chapter 16: Words cannot express…

Thranduil literally goggled at the letter he had received from his son. He was silent as he scanned his eyes over the parchment, his heart beating hard and fast in his chest.

…attacked in the Pass…

…Dinnu got killed…

…Lady Celebrían kidnapped…

…Elladan and Elrohir went after her…

…made our way back to Rivendell…

…everyone exhausted…

…Elrond trying to heal his wife…

…stay calm, Cel and me are fine…

"Stay calm?" he asked out loud. "Legolas, how in Middle-Earth do you expect me to remain calm?! Galion!"

"Yes my Lord?" The butler peered round the door.

"Will you please fetch my wife? Tell her it is an emergency."

"Of course my Lord." He disappeared again.

Thranduil sighed and slumped back in his chair. Why did these things always happen to his son? And now his daughter was involved! Was it a curse upon their family or something?

Eilianu came rushing in a few minutes later. "Melamin? Galion said it was an emergency."

Thranduil handed her the letter, not saying anything. Eilianu sat down and read it, her sapphire eyes taking in every word. Thranduil saw them widen, then narrow at certain sentences. He waited patiently for her to finish.

She placed the letter down on his desk, her hands trembling violently. "I leave for Rivendell at once," she said calmly.

"What?" Thranduil stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"Elrond needs my help. I am skilled in the arts of healing. You know that Thranduil. And I have to see my children."

"Eilianu, they will be returning as soon as possible. You have seen what Legolas has said. There is absolutely no need for you to go galloping off to Rivendell. It is far too dangerous."

"I have to. Celebrían is a dear friend of mine. I am not going to let her suffer this alone."

"Eilianu…"

"No, Thranduil, I am going." She rose to her feet. "Galion."

"Yes my Lady?" He peered round the door.

"Ready my horse. I leave in an hour."

"Certainly my Lady." He left again.

Thranduil stood also. "Eilianu, please reconsider this. It is a rash decision."

"I know what I am doing. Reply to that letter immediately, telling them I am on my way. I shall go and prepare." She left without another word.

Thranduil sighed, sat back down, and took up a fresh piece of parchment. "Well, at least I know where my children got their stubbornness from," he muttered.

Eilianu swept down the hallway to her chambers, her maid following. "Fetch my travelling bag," she told her. "Fill it with enough food and drink to last me to Rivendell."

"Yes my Lady." She scurried off.

The thing we need to learn about the Queen of Mirkwood is that she is very determined. She knew what she had to do and how to do it. A headstrong woman, who let nothing get in the way of what she believed was right. At times, she could be soft and gentle, a lovely caring person with a heart of gold. Which she was always anyway. Even now, as she burst into her room and started getting changed into riding clothes, she was going through everything in her head. Her worries for Celebrían were increasing ten-fold by the minute, and all sorts of thoughts were entering her head. What had happened to her, was she going to survive?

Braiding her hair so it was suitable for riding, she checked herself in the mirror. Her maid arrived back with the bag, and she put a map, plus other necessities in it.

An hour later, she was mounted upon her stallion, Lind. The reply had been sent, and Thranduil was stood beside her, holding her hand and wishing her well. She had a small escort travelling with her, consisting of six able-bodied warriors.

"I shall be perfectly fine," she assured her husband. "Now let me go, before anything else happens to any of them."

He nodded, and she galloped away, under the Arch, the chosen Elves following.

Thranduil sighed as she made his way back inside. Why was he letting all of his family gallop off like that? He must be going mad. His wife was now making her way straight into unknown dangers, and he was letting her! What was wrong with him?

Eilianu cantered along through the forest, her determination to reach Rivendell as fast as possible rising. The six Elves were spread out behind her, urging their own steeds to keep up with the Queen's.

"It should take us just over a week to reach Rivendell if we continue at this pace," she told them as they sped on.

They just nodded in agreement. They knew better than to disagree with her.

They stopped briefly that night for the horses, but were off again before dawn. They were out of the forest after just two and a half days and raced to the Bridge, over the River, and then on into the Pass.

They came to the entrance and stopped. Eilianu glanced up at the sky. "It is growing dark," she said. "It is unsafe to go through whilst it is dark. We shall camp here, and enter at dawn. Agreed?"

"Yes my Lady," came the answer.

They set up a small camp, and let the horses wander. The next day, they were to enter the Pass.

"Oh no…"

"What? What is it Legs?"

"Naneth is coming."

"WHAT!"

Legolas sighed and passed his sister the hurriedly written letter. Celeblaith read it quickly.

Legolas,

Get ready, your mother is on her way. I have tried my best to dissuade her, but to no avail. She is worried for you, your sister, and Celebrían.

Tell Lord Elrond as soon as possible, for it will not take her long to reach you. You know how she is.

Good luck, and come home soon.

Adar.

Celeblaith cursed under her breath, receiving a glare from Legolas after doing so. "Sorry Legs, but this is…why does she have to come?"

"You know she is friends with Lady Celebrían. And she is worried about us. Come on, let's go and inform Lord Elrond."

Elrond had emerged from the room in which he was healing Celebrían the day after Legolas had sent his father the letter. He was shattered, and had slept all day. He said Celebrían was seriously ill, but she was going to be ok. That had been four days ago. Now Arwen was sat in with her mother, whilst Elrond took care of other duties that had gone unnoticed since his wife had arrived back.

Legolas knocked politely on the study door. "Come in."

He went in, Celeblaith following. Elrond was sat behind his desk, reading a letter from some official. He looked up at the two who had entered, and smiled. "Ah, hello you two. It seems I haven't seen you in ages. Sit down. What can I do for you?" He placed the letter to one side.

Legolas took a deep breath and handed Elrond the letter. Elrond read it quickly and smiled. "Queen Eilianu's help will be most welcome," he told them. "I appreciate her coming at such short notice."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Lord Elrond, are you sure…?"

"Yes, completely. I know of your mother's marvellous skills in healing, seeing as I taught her some of them. And she is one of Celebríans' dearest friends. It is a good thing that she is coming."

"If you say so my Lord." Legolas stood and bowed, Celeblaith following. "She will be here within the week I expect. She can ride very quickly when she wishes."

"We shall prepare for her arrival. Do you know how many she shall bring with her?"

"Not many. Seven at the most I should say."

"Ok, thank you Legolas." He handed back the letter.

Legolas smiled and left quickly, Celeblaith at his heels.

"Well that went well," she said, smiling.

"Hmm."

"What you thinking about Greenleaf?"

"What do you think?"

"It'll be fine. You know what Naneth is like. Perhaps it'll be a good thing to have her around."

"Did you know she had been taught by Lord Elrond?"

"No, you?"

He shook his head. "I think there are a few things we don't know about our mother." He grinned. "I wonder what skeletons father has hidden in his cupboard."

Celeblaith laughed. "I dread to think."

Eilianu made her way through the Pass as quickly as possible. She soon came to the place where the dreadful battle had happened. She could see the mounds of her people everywhere where they had been buried, and the stench of death still lingered upon the air. The group stopped for a while, whispering fervent blessings to those who had passed away.

"Dinnu is here somewhere," she said softly. That memory seemed to kick her back into action. "Come, we cannot linger. Let us continue." They carried on towards Rivendell.

Three days later, they left the Pass and galloped on down into the valley of Rivendell. They were admitted in through the gates without questioning, and Eilianu went straight to Elrond's study.

"I take it your journey was uneventful?"

"Thankfully, yes. The Pass is in a state though Elrond. And I am not talking just about where the attack took place. Something must be done."

"I know that Eilianu. It is an awful place really. It will never be perfectly safe to travel through there."

"How is Celebrían?"

He sighed, handing her a goblet of wine. "Bad. She received a poisoned wound. The poison infected her blood, and has spread throughout her body. I worked for three days solid to get it all out of her system."

"And…?"

"And I did. Now she is just resting. Her body is working by itself to recover. There is no more I can do for her. Arwen and the twins, one or the other, are always in with her. Talking to her, coaxing her back into the world of light and laughter. Hopefully, she shall decide to return to us, if not…"

"Oh Elrond, of course she will. She loves you all dearly."

"I know that, but it is this wound that worries me. It may have convinced her that all in Middle-Earth is evil. And I do not wish for her to see our world in that respect."

"She won't. She has a good head on her shoulders. Give her time, she will recover."

There was a knock at the door. "Enter," Elrond called.

Legolas and Celeblaith peered round. "Naneth!" Celeblaith cried. She ran in, straight to her mother who welcomed her with her arms open.

Legolas smiled and stood aside, waiting for his turn. Eilianu stood up and embraced him fiercely. "Thank goodness you're safe," she whispered in his ear.

"Am I ever not so?" he asked in reply.

She scowled at him as they separated. "Now you two are here, you can do me some favours."

Legolas and Celeblaith pulled identical faces of annoyance. Elrond couldn't help but laugh. "You two are just like mine."

"Of course. Legolas literally grew up with them."

"Alright mother, that's enough!"

They laughed, whilst Legolas and Celeblaith went on scowling.

Eilianu frowned as she felt Celebríans' forehead. "She is rather hot," she commented.

"She seems to have this constant fever," Elrond told her. "It just won't leave."

Legolas slipped his hand into Arwen's' as they watched their parents work. "Don't worry," he whispered. "She'll be fine."

Arwen sniffed. "I hope you're right."

He looked at her. She was putting on a brave face. He could see there were tears in her eyes, tears that were going to start falling very soon.

"Come on," he said, leading her out of the room. "Let's go for a walk. It's getting stuffy in here."

"But, what if she wakes up?"

"We won't be long. And someone will come and get you. Come on."

He took her outside into the gardens, which were more or less empty due to the fact that everyone was helping out in and around the House.

They made their way down the path, and came to a clearing beside the River. Legolas sat down beneath a willow tree, and pulled Arwen down into his lap. He held her close, and they sat in silence, each mulling over their own thoughts.

"It's so peaceful down here," Arwen whispered after a while.

Legolas nodded in agreement. "I know. Come here often?"

"Yes. Whenever I want to he alone. It gives me a sense of comfort. I can get away from everything for a while, just be myself."

"I know exactly what you mean."

Arwen twisted round so she was facing him. "Do you ever get fed up of being royalty Legolas?"

"All the time. You?"

She nodded. "Sometimes…I just wish I could be a normal person, not have to go through all these things. Formal dinner and dances, meetings, processions…it all gets so tedious after a while."

He smiled sympathetically. "Sometimes, if I ever get fed up of life, I go and see my sister. If she can't cheer me up, I just go for a long ride, or practise my archery. I also snap at anyone who addresses me as 'Prince Legolas', or 'my Lord'. Bit unfair on them really, but I can't help it."

"When I was little, I used to sneak into mother's room, and she would tell me stories of Lothlórien. I would pour my heart out to her as I got older, and she would always understand. She knows what it is like to be a Princess, the only Princess in the realm. It's hard."

"That's why I try and help out Celeblaith as much as I can," Legolas agreed. "I know what it's like being a child of a King and Queen. When she was born, I spent as much time as I could."

"You're doing a wonderful job of bringing her up."

"You're making me sound like a parent."

Arwen laughed. "Not quite. But a perfect older brother."

He smiled at her, and brushed a stray hair out of her face. "So, Elladan and Elrohir aren't perfect?"

She screwed her nose up. "They'll do, I suppose."

Legolas laughed. "You had better not tell them that."

"Of course I won't! I love them dearly, it's just…being twins, they're always together. I can never get one on his own. They may be identical, but in some ways…you know what I mean?"

"I find Elrohir is the more sensitive. Elladan…he tends to do before he thinks. Elrohir likes to think things out, plan in advance. And he can give excellent advice. So can Dan of course, but I just feel that Elrohir has a better understanding of everything."

Arwen nodded. "That's exactly what I thought. Elrohir is certainly quieter. Sometimes, I just want to talk to him alone, because I know he will listen and understand me more. Perhaps it is because he is the youngest."

"Maybe." Legolas frowned thoughtfully, turning his face away to gaze contemplatively at the ground. "I wonder…"

"What?"

He looked back at her. "If one of them gets married before the other…would that change anything between them?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. What would be quite ironic was if they got married to twin sisters."

Legolas laughed. "I would just find that exceedingly funny."

They laughed together for a while. Then Arwen sighed and slumped back into Legolas' arms. "Thanks Greenleaf."

"For what?"

"Cheering me up. You always manage to do that."

He smiled and kissed the top of her dark head. "Any friend would do the same."

They made their way gradually back to the House.

"Thrálindë?"

"Yes my son. She is fading."

"Where is she? I must see her!"

"Calm down Elrohir. I shall take you to her."

Elrond led his distraught son along a hallway, nodding in acknowledgement to Elves that they passed by. Elrohir followed as fast as he could, fear stabbing at his heart.

Was it his fault that Thrálindë was dying? Because he had cast her aside so offhandedly? Perhaps, if he hadn't have been so…cold-hearted, she would still be in the land of the living.

Elrond opened the door to the healing room, and let Elrohir pass through. His eyes darted straight to the bed where Thrálindë lay, pale and still. Sinyë still sat beside her, but rose when the two Lords entered. He bowed his head. "My Lords."

Elrond smiled gently at him, but Elrohir walked over to the bed. Elrond tilted his head back to the door, and Sinyë left with him, closing the door behind him.

Elrohir took Siny's empty chair. He felt Thralind's' hand. It was as cold as ice, and felt thin beneath his touch. His eyes drifted up to her face. Her eyes were shut, and her cheeks ashen coloured. Her lips had lost their vibrant redness; they were now a dull pinkish tinge. Her breathing was shallow and ragged – it was almost as if she was hardly breathing at all.

"Thral," he whispered, squeezing her hand. "Thral, it's me, Elrohir. Open your eyes for me. Please? Saes?"

He got no response, which he was of course expecting. He tried again, bringing her hand up to his lips. "Saes Thrálindë, echuivo."

He didn't love her, not in the way he had done all those years ago. He thought he had hated her, but now he realised that was not the case. He couldn't hate anyone of his own kin. No matter how hard he tried, he just could not hate her.

She hadn't done anything wrong. Their relationship just seemed to be all wrong. Everything went badly after a few months. Constant arguments, whole days passing without speaking to each other. That was not how lovers were meant to be. So they had split, and she had moved to Lothlórien. He had more or less forgotten all about her.

Now all the memories came flooding back. They had had fun, while it had lasted. She was younger than he was, but that was a good thing. She was much more childish than any other lovers he had had were. She shared his sense of humour, the same interests, and she had loved him.

And still did by the looks and sounds of it. He gazed down at her pale face, and gripped her hand tighter. "Come on Thral," he whispered. "Your family will kill me if I don't make you wake up. Your sister is dangerous when she's angry, remember?"

He sighed. It wasn't working. Then he had an idea.

"Thral, do you remember that time we went riding, and Dan followed us without us realising? He saw us kissing, down by the pool, and didn't let me live it down for weeks. He would always tease us. And the time we were practising archery and your arrow went zooming off into the undergrowth. It was funny; you have to admit. And our horses, you remember them? Losse, yours was called. White Flower, because she was pure white all over. And mine was Liltarána, Moon Dancer. You gave him that name. You said it was because he was as grey as the moon on a clear night, and he was so delicate and light on his feet, that he was like a dancer. Hence the name, Moon Dancer. It was a beautiful name for him, and it suited his personality. Gentle and loving, like you." He kissed her hand. "Thral, we can't turn back time. We shall never be together again. I cannot love you in the way I used to, or the way I love Dolenmíl now. But…please don't fade away. We can be friends, close friends. Let's forget the problems we had in the past. No more arguments, no more planning revenge. Don't fade. This world will be empty without you."

Elrohir did not realise he had fallen asleep until a caressing finger brushed his cheek. His eyes clicked back into focus, and he stared at the hand. Then he eyes travelled up to meet the owner of said hand.

"Hannon lle," Thrálindë whispered, smiling faintly. She was propped up on one elbow, gazing down at him.

Elrohir sat up and looked back at her intently. "Thrálind" he stared, but she silenced him.

"I think I have some apologies to make."

"Not now. Get some sleep. You must be shattered."

"Please Elrohir, let me explain."

She struggled to sit up against the pillows so she could look at him properly, and so Elrohir helped her. She smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you. Now, as I was saying, I have some apologies to make. First off, I am sorry for everything bad that happened between us. All those arguments years ago, the smallest thing, the biggest thing, everything. Secondly, for coming back here after being away for all those years. I should never have come back. Look at where it has landed us. Thirdly, for ever thinking that you would love me as you used to again. I was young, immature, and I had dreams. You were Prince of Rivendell, and to even imagine being with you was heaven. Then, when we were together, my life was perfect. I don't know when or why it all went wrong, but it did, and so I am apologising for every mean thing I said or did during that time. And finally, for this. For being so pathetic and weak and useless. But I cannot control my heart. I never have been able to. I always seemed to fall in love with the wrong person. But I only loved truly once. And that was when I loved you. In a sense I still do. But I understand now, that you and Dolenmíl are meant to be. I am not going to spoilt that for you now." She took a deep breath. "I've said everything I have to say, but I still feel it is not enough. There are no words that can make up for the way I have behaved. I'm sorry."

Elrohir smiled at her. "Its ok," he assured her. "I understand. Thank you." He leant across, kissed her briefly on the cheek, and then squeezed her hand. He stood without a word, and left, going to find Sinyë.

Thrálindë sighed and slumped back against the pillows, exhausted from just that small amount of talking. At least she had said everything now. And Elrohir looked like he understood too. At least there would be no more tension between them, no frosty glares or harsh words. And hopefully Elladan wouldn't be so bad.

She wondered where Torfithien was. She had a lot of explaining to do there as well. She wriggled around to find the comfiest spot under the covers, and settled down again, relaxing her mind.

All the apologising would be done sooner or later. She would make sure of it.

Not much more to go. In fact…4 chapters. Then that's it.

Faerlain.