To Kermit: Well I hope you will still have your happy face after this chapter! And thanks for correcting me, I already replaced the previous chapter.

To RiRiana: Yeah, I prefer this version too, it's better!

To merrymagic56 and Shorty51: Thanks!

Chapter 2 : Moving On

"They've returned!"

Háthien dropped her book and ran as fast as she could to the gates. The guards in their posts could already see the riders from above, but Háthien could not see them yet. She waited anxiously, wanting to see her brother and Legolas again. She had missed them both. She never really understood why she would miss Legolas like she had, since she had only met him once, but she had spent so much time thinking about him, wondering how he was. Sometimes his face had even invaded her dreams, and now she could not wait to see him again in the flesh.

The riders now came into view, and Háthien peered at them. She could not spot Legolas, even though she saw Celoril riding at the front. Worry began to creep into her bones, but she pushed them away, telling herself that he would be coming, that her eyes were playing mean tricks on her.

Even when they rode through the gates and Legolas was nowhere to be seen, Háthien was still telling herself that there had been a dreadful mistake.

Celoril dismounted the minute he saw his sister and ran towards her, hugging her tightly. "It's so good to see you again, my sister!" he said. "I've missed you!"

"I've missed you too," Háthien whispered back to her brother. "Next time, you have to bring me wherever you go." She looked around. "Where is Legolas?"

"He was chosen to represent the Elves on a quest." Celoril quickly told Háthien all that was decided at the council. He noted the worry on his sister's face. "Don't worry, muinthel, Legolas knows full well how to take care of himself. It is a great honour for him to be chosen."

"I know it is a great honour, but who's to know the dangers that he will face? Anything is possible."

Celoril put an arm around his sister. "It is a risky mission, but it must be done. Legolas was glad to be chosen, and eager to go. He told me that if there were any way he could be of service to Middle Earth, he would take any responsibility immediately. He said that it was an honour for Mirkwood that he was chosen. We should be proud of him. He knows what he is doing, and he is in the company of many capable individuals. I have faith that he will be all right. Do you?"

Háthien sighed. "Yes, muindor, I do." But she still couldn't help but worry about him, and knew that she would not rest easy until she saw him again.

After the War of the Ring…

As the Elves began moving, Háthien turned for one last look at Mirkwood, now renamed Eryn Lasgalen by Thranduil and Celeborn. She had never left Mirkwood in the long years of her life, and she would miss it, but she also knew that there was no way she could stay. Too much had been lost here. Both her father and brother had been killed by Orcs, and she could only stand by helplessly as her mother died from grief, fading away more and more each day until there was barely anything of her left. There was too much in Mirkwood that was now pushing her away, and she could only pray that in Ithilien she would find the peace and happiness she once had.

"Naevaer, Eryn Lasgalen."

"Saying goodbye?" Legolas asked, riding up to her. He looked at her, concerned. It could not be easy for her to leave Mirkwood. It was all she had ever known.

Háthien nodded. She refused to let go of the tears that blurred her vision. She was tired of crying, and she wanted to put everything behind her. Now, all she wanted was peace, and somewhere for her heart to mend. Celoril was not here for her now, and she told herself that she had to be strong. But it was so exhausting…

"Why are you leaving, Háthien?"

She gestured to the trees, the houses, everything. "Too many memories walk on this land. And that is all that I have now. Memories. There is nothing else left for me here in Mirkwood. I want to find someplace else where I can try to move on, and live life alone in peace."

Sadness invaded Legolas' heart as he watched a tear slide down Háthien's cheek. He could find no words to say to her, no way to comfort her. She once had everything one could want, a loving family and a beautiful home, and had lost everything in the blink of an eye. He nudged his horse closer to her, and took her hand. "You're not alone. Celoril was a dear friend, and I miss him too. I know that there is no way I could replace him, but I'll always be here for you whenever you need someone to turn to, gwathel."

Háthien squeezed his hand gratefully, and turned away. Legolas sighed. "During the War of the Ring I fought so many, fought in the greatest battle of our time. From one who did not understand death, it became something I witnessed at every turn. I wonder, through this great ordeal, how many children have become orphans, how many wives become widows, how many parents have lost their children? At times, it just does not seem fair that so much had to be lost."

"Much was lost," Háthien said distantly. "But all for a good cause. It had to be done, for the freedom of Middle Earth. Men died so that their sons could experience fatherhood. Mothers made their sacrifices so that their daughters would someday carry their own children. Those who died today died for those who live tomorrow, just as those who live tomorrow might have to die for the next generation. The fallen are gone forever, but they have left to us the most beautiful gift: the gift of life. And we repay them by remembering them, and honouring them. It is the only thing we can do now."

Legolas looked at Háthien, amazed. With those words she had demonstrated a wisdom and a strength so admirable that he was struck speechless. How she had changed when he was away! When he left she was a carefree child, knowing only love and laughter. Now she had grown into a woman who knew heartbreak and lost, and had refused to succumb to the overwhelming power of suffering. The joyful light in her eyes had dimmed, but the fire in her heart burned on, strong as ever, and it demanded respect.

He looked down. She had made no move to withdraw her hand, and he still held it. "Ithilien is beautiful," he said at last. "The Elves could make it even more so, with the help of Faramir and the people of Gondor. I cannot tell you that you will forget all sadness there, but I will do all I can for you, that I promise."

"Thank you," she said softly. "You will never know how much I needed to hear those words."