Answers/comments to reviews:

Calenore: She is a loyal wood-elf, and anyone who threatens her king is in for it. Besides, she was feeling betrayed at the time… and just hold on a bit longer for that fessing up part.

Farflung: You're right, I see it quite clearly. It's hard to write something and then read it as if you never have before, which is my only defense. And in Leaf's defense… well, read below for that. Yup, he's the only child Thranduil has. Crowned and only prince of Mirkwood. As for the dense but sweet—she was raised as a guy after all… And angst is on the way…

Lady Jade: What 'other'? Oh, do you mean the 'other' Wind consoles Leaf with? If so… I'll break a standing rule and just say… not in this fic.

Davan: I always think it's funny when reviewers suggest I do exactly what I've already almost done. (I generally have the next chapter at least half written when one goes up, if not more. I like to read through and try to catch errors in grammar and spelling, though.)

Michelle: Glad you like it… and as for the 'lack of shock'… I'll admit I had some trouble figuring out how to write that in her view, so I settled for making her numb enough from it that the sword slips from her fingers.

To the rest of you who reviewed/e-mailed/read: thanks! I think this is either the most or close to the most reviews I have ever gotten for a single chapter. A little bit more confusion, a bit more pressure, and father comes home…

Phew! I was beginning to think I would never be able to get this up! My computer was trying to say it couldn't save to a floppy, but it finally decided to be nice and let me save, so on to the chapter!

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

"Don't mess up!" a sharp voice called just before my blow would have struck perfectly on the hot metal.

Would have. And if wishes were water droplets I could flood the world.

I rolled my eyes and set the iron aside, removing my mask to glare properly. "Joy," I complained.

He half-smiled at me, but then looked somewhat behind him. "You coming?"

"Yes," Leaf sighed, his arms crossed over his middle, almost as if trying to control some internal pain. His normally bright eyes were dimmer than ever I had seen them, his movements somewhat slow—as if he didn't have anywhere to be that was worth getting to.

"Leaf, what happened to you?"

He looked at me silently for a long moment, then blinked and looked down with a hint of a shrug. Before long he was called outside, wandering away silently, if sluggishly.

"Joy, what—"

"Don't you know?" he asked sharply, all pretense of laughter gone from his eyes. "He is suffering, Wind. If he doesn't snap back soon…"

"What?" I breathed in utter horror.

"She as good as broke his heart by leaving. Her not coming back…"

I closed my eyes and bowed my head. "How can she?"

Joy looked at me for a while, then shook his head. "I know you love him… I just can't tell how. Any way it is, though, you definitely are in better shape than he is. You could have the decency to miss him… though you of course get to see him, while he never sees her."

"She's here, just as I am. If he can't see that—"

"How could he?" Joy shook his head at me. "Tyran, you have to do something."

"There is nothing I can do," I insisted somewhat stubbornly.

He looked at me, then grabbed a blade from the wall, letting it clatter onto the table. "Then be merciful about killing him—make it quick instead of watching him slowly fade away." He whirled and stalked out without looking back, swallowed up by the light.

Fade away?

I fell back into my chair, my work forgotten for a long time. Eventually I automatically started working again, but even Haradan could tell it wasn't worth the force put into the blows, so he sent me home early. Instead of doing that, I pulled a blade from the wall, sheathing the sword at my waist.

After a long, long run and two more days off—which thankfully was vacation Haradan and I had planned on before the festival—I found myself at my tree without thinking about where I was going.

I smiled faintly—I always wound my way back here, whether I meant to or not. Well, some troubles could only be taken to the stars and the walls you can call your own. With a soft sigh I climbed up, hanging my bow up before setting my quiver on the floor, a small bird hanging from my fingers. Had I been thinking about where I was going, I would have taken it to Tara's on my way back. Although really, since tomorrow was wide open as well, I could take care of it myself.

"Where have you been, boy?"

Inside I cringed, but centuries of that same reaction to his voice had given me a mask so he didn't see the effect he had on me. "Hunting," I half lied, holding up the bird as proof of my semi-faulty claim.

My father was in one of my two chairs, and had pulled it across the room in such a way he was in shadows. It was odd, but though a mere half inch taller than I was he seemed huge to me, somehow, even when he was sitting down. "What have you been doing while I was in Imladris?"

"I spent time with friends, enjoyed the festival."

"Is that so?"

Something in his tone warned me, made my eyes move to him with a wariness I couldn't explain, but knew to trust. "It is," I stated cautiously.

"That's odd then. No one recalls seeing you but for an instant here or there, or for the last few days." He lifted a brow at me, and then abruptly changed subjects. "I hear things have been interesting at the halls. Apparently someone attacked the prince while he was in the beginning stages of fading. Imagine my surprise when the name given as the she-elf who captured our prince was the same one my wife gave my daughter."

"What a coincidence," I managed through my dry throat.

He held up the pendant, the sudden flash of light on the flowing lines seeming to condemn me even before he spoke the words I expected. "Don't lie to me, boy."

"It must have fallen off of Leaf's elf. She was here a few times." To my Father, I could—and often did—lie without guilt. Anyone else I would have trouble with, but not with the one elf I should have had the hardest time being dishonest with. Probably because I knew what would happen if he always got the truth from me.

He got up, his eyes hard with a flame of anger not tempered by reason. Before I could think to move, he struck me with the hand holding the pendant, two long jagged wounds gouged into my cheek. "No son of mine creates jewelry. Understood?"

My face hurt. My jaw hurt. By the Valar, I hurt. Only now my outside matched my inside—aching and bleeding. "Yes, sir," I stated through clenched teeth, feeling my shoulder grow warm from the blood dripping into my tunic, staining my shirt.

"We leave for the undying lands in the spring."

I started to open my mouth to protest, and he started to lift his hand. It was warning enough. I remained silent, clenching my jaw against sound. When he left I let out a sigh and went to the water barrel, finding he had dumped it as I half expected.

With a shake of my head I picked up a few of the broken necklace links and set them on the table, grabbing the bird as I placed the sword at my waist again. It was with a heavy heart I wound my steps to Taradriel's flet.

She looked up from whatever she was doing, took one look at me and nearly knocked the small table beside her over in her haste to get to her feet. "By the Valar! What happened to you, dear elf?"

I just shook my head, and held out the bird.

"You came over here to give me that?" she asked sharply, her eye tracing the blood dripping from my chin to stain my hair and shoulder. Drip. Drip.

I sighed softly, having long years ago given up on the anger and pain that went with being struck by my father. "And to get some water. Father dumped mine out."

She shook her head while biting her lip, then shoved me back into the chair I usually used. "That idiot elf," she grumbled, pushing my hair back, gently pulling the blood stained pieces from the wounds before quickly securing the strands behind me as she went for a cloth, dropping it into the water before getting a bowl and an herb from a shelf. She sighed and tended the wounds, shaking her head and muttering every now and again. "What did this?" she asked softly.

I held up the pendant, unaware until then that I still held it. "He found it, and heard that Alyeni wore it, and that I had crafted it. No son of his is to make jewelry," I finished bitterly, dropping the pendant to the table.

"Oh, Wind," a soft voice sighed from the other side of the flet.

My head snapped around, making me wince as Tara was jolted into pressing against the wound.

Leaf flinched when he saw my face, my bloodied clothes, and began shaking his head. "Wind," he sighed, moving to sit in front of me, his eyes following the renewed flow of blood. "You have to get away from him."

"I can't. Rules are rules, unwritten or not… and he plans that we shall go west in the spring."

Tara froze. "No."

"Wind, you can't—" He broke off and looked down at my tightly clenched hands, slowly taking the pendant from them, setting it on the table with fingers that held a fine tremor. "You can't leave," he insisted, his voice rough as he picked up another cloth to wrap around my hands, since I had held the pendant so tightly it had ripped my palms.

"I don't want to," I whispered softly, my words trailing off as Tara began cleaning my wounds again, allowing another trickle of blood to run down my cheek. "But I have no choice."

"You could go before the king to be released from him," Leaf stated suddenly, his eyes sparking with anger as he watched the blood drip from my chin to my lap. "Merely the sight of you would be enough."

"But it is only my word he did it. If he says I fell and blame him…" I shook my head, smiling faintly. "I've considered that for centuries, Leaf. I need a good reason."

"I'd say you've got one," Tara murmured, her eyes darkening, hinting at her true meaning though she said nothing more. As she continued to fuss, we fell silent.

I noticed Leaf's eyes were always drawn back to the pendant. I nudged Tara with my foot and tilted my head at him, waiting while she noticed what he did.

She looked at it, then at me. I nodded quickly, so she picked it up, his dimmed eyes following it. "Well, as it's been left behind," she murmured softly, hesitating. "Perhaps you would like it?" she finished a bit lamely, holding it out to him.

He looked up at her in surprise, his lips parting as he studied her face for any sign of insincerity before he reached out, his fingers shaking slightly as they hovered over the cool metal for a long moment. His eyes closed as he held it, his lips forming 'Alye' inaudibly as he cradled the metal.

The only recently familiar burn of tears stung behind my lids, but I held them back as ever, shaking my head at the pain Leaf was suffering. Tara's hand on my shoulder was a quiet comfort, but she looked troubled, shaking her head as I asked in a glance if she had a solution. As Tara finished cleaning me up, Leaf began asking quiet questions of her. My guess would be to gather information, to talk about her was the reason he'd come here in the first place.

He looked awful, eyes so dull and skin too pale. And it was my fault. But I couldn't see anything I could do…