Hey lovely guys, got you a new update and you will see from the note I've left at the bottom that I have a little important note to you readers.

Austin B – I have a father and brother who think me stupid regarding computers….and yet its me who qualified to use the damn things! Oh and Thranduil – affectionate? You spoke too soon!

MacadamiaNut – as much as I like 10th walker stories, it wouldn't work for this one even if I tried and the path I set this story on is one I feel is better and more compelling to you the readers. But I can say that Isil is worthy enough to be fighting in Helm's Deep, ride the paths of the dead and so forth..

Green eyed elf goddess – sorry but I can say that we will see more of their bond in the near future – I miss it too. Your suggestions are more accurate than you think but not in the way you know………;)

Don't owe anything to do with Tolkien's work or the films – damn!


Servant Rule Number 22:- As a servant, if you commit any crime in your household, you must pay for it.


Isil looked up from stirring the dough in its bowl, the heat of the nearby fire made the job more harder as she added raisins and spices to make a fruit loaf. It have been three weeks since Legolas departure and no words have been sent as of yet, she wasn't expecting any as she knew he yet to reach Rivendell. The guards on the borders of Mirkwood brought home the message that the small party have passed through the forest unharmed, the message already a week out of date as the forest was so wide, it took a long time to venture through it.

Her chores have been switched and her main jobs were to help the kitchen staff and the palace tailors with dressmaking and laundry. She welcomed the busy days with some comfort but she found herself thinking of Legolas in any quiet moment, her worries increased as so did her anxiety for his welfare as of late due to the increased number of sightings of orcs and spiders.

She looked up at the elven calendar someone stuck up on the wall near the larder and saw that someone circled the day Legolas departed with a red circle and counted. She made it twenty four days and sighed.

It have been too long and Valar!

She missed him!


Legolas stared at the view from his window, the mist rising off the waterfalls that surrounded the elven refuge, casting rainbows in the sun as the plants sparkled with the dew. White doves cooed nearby on their branches of tall trees with splendid foliage that made Legolas think of home.

Home where Isil was waiting for him.

He had arrived at Rivendell three days prior due to a shortcut Cleborn knew that cut through the mountains. Their journey encountered few orcs that ran the vast plains in small numbers and they met little resistance. He haven't been able to pass on his message to Elrond, as his servants told him, he was busy in affairs that were of uttermost importance. He guessed it was to do with the halflings Estel brought back with him, one was serious wounded from a stab wound by a wraith's blade.

His mind brewed with the many thoughts so much so he didn't hear someone enter the room behind him.

"What plague's the prince's mind so that it lets down his guard for me to creep behind him unaware?" the soft voice asked and Legolas smiled, he turned to see the elven beauty and like so many times before, all he could do was stare.

"Arwen, well met." He greeted and formality aside, he hugged her tightly with a grin as she giggled.

"Its been too long." She smiled and Legolas nodded, slipping comfortably into the role of her good friend, and one he grown up with. For all the songs and words that many elves tried to compare Arwen to, none could do her justice.

Her beauty was not of this world, neither was her spiritual being that made her feisty and argumentative then sweet and alluring. All who looked upon her knew that the Valar must have bestowed her with great grace.

Legolas looked down at her hands that held his, wondering how they weren't marred by the sword training the Evenstar so rigorously undertook.

"How fare your brothers for I haven't encountered them since my arrival…..thankfully." he grinned, a dozen memories of Elladan and Elrohir's infamous pranks came to mind and he saw a smile spread on their sister's lips as she shrugged, "Well as can be I suppose, they been kept busy by Ada, running around passing messages on, escorting Glorfindel with the halflings…..you did hear about that?"

"I did, it saddens my heart to hear that the nine have come so close to polluting this divine kingdom with their very presence." Legolas replied, speaking of the chase Glorfindel lead as he hurried to carry the almost dead halfling to the care of Elrond.

Why was such a small being so important? He mused but no logical answer came to mind.

"What is it?" Arwen asked, her eyes searching his enquiringly as he looked at her and shrugged, "What is what?"

"There's something on your mind, don't deny it for your aura and fea tells me much. Have Prince Legolas fallen in love?" she smiled as Legolas cast his attention to something most interesting out the window, most inexpertly as he was not use to being read so easily.

He prided himself on keeping his innermost thoughts locked away, so even the wisest elves couldn't read his face to know what's on his heart. Only to be caught out by Arwen. He sighed, there was no point denying it, he wanted to talk to her and find comfort in his friend's presence. She knew much for her age and love was a thing she specialised in.

Always was the romantic was Arwen.

"Ai, I've fallen Arwen." He softly said, his eyes not seeing as his memories stirred up the face of Isil smiling, laughing, crying, shouting…..already his image of her was fuzzy and his heart despaired.

Would he forget her?

"Who is she?" Arwen stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm, her humour was replaced by gentle affection as one would feel to a brother and her heart warmed with the prospect of Legolas finding his love.

"She's the most beautiful, intelligent, spunky and graceful person I know." He replied, his attention back on Arwen as she lead them to two chairs next to a fire place that laid unlit. Somewhere wafted the scent of the many flowers that bloom despite it being late autumn and Legolas leant back in his chair to feel Rivendell's soothing presence.

"You would like her Arwen, she cared for me and saved my life during an attack on Mirkwood. She fought in battle by my father's side and received the honour of the sword." Legolas recalled some of Isil's achievements with a smile that Arwen didn't miss. His new found enthusiasm left him youthful and like the young elf she remembered before duty and sovereignty claimed him.

"And she loves me for me, not Prince Legolas or Legolas the elf with many honours but Legolas the being." His smiled broadened as Arwen leaned forward, her fingers holding out a glass of wine which he gratefully sipped.

"What's her name?" she asked, wanting to hear as much as she could of the elleth that claimed her good friend's heart.

"Isil." Legolas said with a dreamy note to his voice.

"What's the problem? Marry her!" Arwen grinned.

In that moment, his face fell and his eyes darken like the clouds of a thunderstorm rolling over the sun. his aura became turbulent and dark as worry and many troubles that a-sailed him resurfaced.

"That is the problem. She's a maid and laws in my father's kingdom forbade such a relationship. We've bedded and even formed a temporary bond but marriage evades us for we fear the wrath of my father." Legolas explained. Arwen didn't reply, she knew much of Legolas's dislike to his bloodline he feared he would fail to. He been brought up to live up to his grandfather, the great Oropher and his own father. Such pressures are not needed by a gentle soul such as Legolas.

"I miss her Arwen, so very badly." Legolas spoke out, his voice hoarse with emotions as Arwen perked her head up from her quiet reflection of her own life.

"Write her a letter, you'll feel better for it. Come on, I'll help you start it." Arwen yanked her friend's arm as she tried to snap him out of his misery that she knew didn't suit him at all. He laughed and sluggishly stood to his feet but a knock on the door prevent ed him for retorting to Arwen's invitation.

"My lord, Elrond calls for you to attend the council in the west wing." A servant informed him and with a bow, closed the door to leave the two elves with their thoughts.

"I do not like this one bit, Legolas." Arwen spoke up, he saw that her fingers fidgeted and knew that she was nervous. She had every right to be for this council was not a thing to be taken lightly and Legolas said just that, "This council has yet to reveal its purpose to me but something makes me think that my fate is caught up in this moment. Maybe I'm to see my true path."

"Then let's hope it's a good one." Arwen smiled weakly as Legolas pressed a kiss to her crown and left the Evenstar to her nerves and thoughts.


All need not know what happened next for all is known through legends and the countless times the story been told, Legolas went to the council as called and there he saw a gathering of the last few races of Middle Earth.

There was the dwarves who rumbling tongues were quick to recount all those moments they suffered under the elves hospitality. The frail race of men, some old and pompous with wisdom whilst others where barely out of their days of youth. But hope sat amongst them in the form of one ranger.

Estel…….Strider……….Aragorn. no name was enough to the man who would be king in the adventure we all know so well.

And lastly was the elves, represented by Elrond and Legolas themselves, the beings that saw over time how the land they loved grew and decayed with good and evil.

Here was hope's last stand against Sauron and his armies.

Legolas watched as the ring bearer brought forth the one object that was central to all this trouble, a small band of gold that harboured more evil than thought possible. Responsible for the attacks, betrayal, treachery, death and darkness that swept this land, and we all know what fate it must befall.

It must be unmade in the heart of Mount Doom.

And it was there that moment when Frodo called over the clamour of voices that argued over the ring and their fates, that this small being would take the ring and destroy it did Legolas knew that his life was tied to the halfling. As he watched Aragorn pledge his sword to the quest, his heart found his true path and it took five words to seal his fate……….

"And you have my bow."

It was done.

Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood was about to start the one journey that will become a legend that time wont forget.

Though his heart rejoiced at finding a path he wanted to followed, it was also saddened by the fact his absence could stretch into months even years without Isil. And he took up Arwen's suggestion. With a pen in hand, he wrote one line…….

"To my love, Isil………"

he couldn't go on, what words that seem so meaningless now, could encapsulate the feelings he felt when ever he saw her, how many times could he say sorry?

Would she understand that this may be the last time she hear from her lover for the quest may take him in death rather than victory?

He wrote long into the night, the piles of letters all starting with the same line…."To my love, Isil…….", all in varied state on completion and all thrown aside, scrunched up into a ball. It was in the middle of the night that a letter poured from his soul to the paper was the one he tried to encapsulate. He sealed it with wax and placed it next to a letter to his father.

They were handed to Cleborn, his closest friend to take home with him the following morn. They were placed in separate bags for they were unmarked for who was the reader they were destined for. Thranduil's in the left saddle bag and Isil's in the right.

Loegolas bade his friend farewell for he knew it would be a long time till he next saw him, "Farewell and may the valar grant me a chance to see my homeland once more." Was his last words to Cleborn, son of Mirgal, who rode westwards back to his home of Mirkwood.

Little did Legolas know that whilst one legend was about to begin in Rivendell, another was already starting as Cleborn rode closer to Mirkwood, and we like Legolas will hear that legend when he does return home.

We now leave the ring walker to start his journey in an adventure later known to all, as penned by Frodo's hand as "The Lord of the Rings."

For whilst his fate was mapped out, fate for another being was unravelling and uncharted.


The first snow fell as five riders rode into Mirkwood's courtyard. The tiny icy flakes drifted lazily upon the cold, bitter wind and the walls of the courtyard a rang with the clatter of swords as recruits trained, despite the worsening weather conditions.

Some maids ran out of the kitchens to save the laundry that was put out to dry in a pathetic attempt considering it was now winter. Already ice have frozen over the king's fountains that he had commissioned several years ago amongst the palace grounds, and it looks as if the river that was the kingdom's main source of transport for the food barrels was to freeze as well.

The guards that stood on duty, though they didn't feel the cold, stood close to the small fires to warm off the chill as they laughed and drank mead with gloved hands.

Horses stamped their feet impatiently in their stalls, determined to be let out to graze despite the grass been frozen and washed over with mud as stable hands ran out to take the riders horses.

"Cleborn!" cried a voice, and the elf in question, pulled down the fur lined hood of his cloak to turn and see Isil walk up to him, a smile upon her sweet, fair face as she carried a basket of bread upon her hips.

"How fare you?" she asked, her eyes counting the number of horses that came home.

Not waiting for Cleborn's answer she frowned, "There's one missing, tell me where is my lord?"

"He stays behind in Rivendell for reasons my heart weeps, he asked me to deliver you a message for your eyes only." Cleborn burrowed his hand into the left saddle bag and handed her a dented scroll from its rigorous journey.

She stared at it as it laid in her hand, the red wax seal teasing her as her heart raced and mind whirled with the prospect of the letter being bad news.

It must be.

"Get inside! We've warmed Dorwinion for you and a mighty feast for who knows when was the last time you've eaten a proper meal." Rowan called out, the four riders that accompanied Cleborn trooped in as the elf stared at the open door that admitted the tempting smell of cooked meat and spicy tarts.

"Forgive me, I must present the king the news I am forced to bare." He smiled and patted her shoulder as Isil nodded, not listening to his words as she stood lost in thought.

She turned and left the bread in the keep for the soldier's rations as she headed to her quarters. She closed the door behind her and lit a candle to ward off the growing darkness as she sat herself down in a rickety chair and stared at the scroll.

What words did it contain?

Does he want to end what she allowed them to build?

Is he well?

She exhaled a frustrated breath and snatched it up, running a thumb under the wax to break it, she straightened it up and began to read the first line.

"Dear Ada……."

Ada?

Was this meant to be handed to Thranduil?

A quick read at the formal contents told her it did, and her heart thundered at such a mistake.

Cleborn!

He must be stopped before it was………

The door slammed opened, dis-spelling Isil's very thought as she saw in the door frame stood Thranduil himself with her scroll in his hand.

His face impassive as he kicked the door shut with his foot, the slam ringing in her ears as he slowly paced before her, he was angry, she didn't even needed to look at his aura to know. She could feel it several paces away, heated, sickly anger that spiralled off him.

"What have you been doing with my son?" he asked, his voice barely restraining the anger he fought to keep in check.

"Milord…." Her voice wavered, not sure where to start or how much he knew.

"I received a letter in my son's hand to you, a love letter telling me that you bedded him on more than one occasion. That you've bonded with him!" Thranduil snarled, shaking the letter he held, he snatched the one from Isil's hand and quickly read it.

"And yet to me, he tells me nothing of his love for you." He breathed, he angrily scrunched up his own letter and threw it to the floor where it skittered under her bed.

"You lied to me, posing as a trusted servant when all the time you lied!" he roared, Isil cowered, tears fell from her eyes as she whimpered.

"We fell in love, it wasn't anyone's fault!"

"The law states it's forbidden to do so!" Thranduil roared again, "My advisors now know of this scandal you committed against me and its all over the court, I must be seen to be doing my duty to uphold any oath breakers and punish them! Guards!"

four guards, who must have been waiting for his command, stormed into the room and apprehended Isil, who tired to kick and pull away from their hard grips, her tears forgotten as she screamed her fury of ill-judgement as she was lead down into the dungeons.

Servants hissed as they watched her being pulled past, ladies of the court spat at her path as she went and advisors' numerous voices cried out her crimes as the door closed behind her when she was thrust into the darkest, foulest place she ever seen.

Ignoring the damp floor that ranked with vile odours, she sank to her knees and cried, hot tears burning her cold cheeks as she started to shiver with the cold air within the brick room.


She didn't know how long she was in there for, for the room held no windows. She slept when she thoughts it was night and cried when she thought it was day.

No water or food was provided for her, and if any was offered to her, she wouldn't have ate it for she felt the first spiralling clutches of one who was fading.

Her heart dully thudded within the cavity of her ribs but her usually alert senses were fogged and hazy.

Her skin tingled constantly as her body welcomed the first touch of death, and Isil didn't fight it.

She couldn't, Legolas took her heart the day he left to Rivendell and now he was on some far flung mission that involved journeying to Mount Doom to his certain death.

No, the valar will be kind to grant her death now for she will wait for him when death does send him to the halls of Mandos.

She laid on the floor, weak and reluctant to move. When the door did open to let in bright, painful light, she winced and screwed her eyes shut, as dimly she heard footsteps enter.

"Close that door!" whispered a voice and the click of the heavy, wooden door followed.

"Isil?" another voice softly asked, one that held a high feminine note as a cool hand touched her hot forehead. "She's fading!"

"Out of the way!" the first voice snapped, Isi felt larger hands cradle her cheeks as she whimpered from the lack of senses she suffered from, she couldn't smell, feel, barely heard and certainly couldn't taste.

And for her sight…….

"Open your eyes." The voice commanded. Isil forcibly opened them and hissed at the dull light from a candle. She blinked for what felt like forever till her vision cleared and she saw three faces. Her memory stirred as an elleth wiped a tear from her own cheek as she handed an elf a cool cloth.

"Cleborn? Keay?" she murmured as she tried to move away from the elf's healing hands that seemed to burn her skin.

"We're here, let us help you." Cleborn's voice whispered.

She looked at the third elf who held her face in his hands as his wide blue eyes beheld her own, his golden hair was like a halo against the backdrop of the candle and she thought it was a vision.

"Are you an angel?" she coughed, then felt a cup pressed to her lips and the cool, sweet water passed down her throat.

"Me? Nay, I am Glorfindel. You must sit up for I've medicine to give you." The elf spoke, his soothing voice penetrating the fuzziness of her mind as she felt his hands pull her to sit upright.

She felt the shadows of someone's hand wave in front of her eyes, then a voice whisper as if to hide the mere fact, "She be dead soon if we don't get this down her."

"I know." Glorfindel replied, as he held Isil's sluggish head upright and allowed her to slump against him as he fumbled in his bag for the one thing that could bring Isil back from the shadow lands that lead to Mandos.

"Then let me die." Isil murmured, "Please……"

"I'm afraid I cant let you do that. Drink." Glorfindel help up a small vial that cast the room with a eerie silver blue light, and Isil groggily realised it came from the bottle itself.

It was pressed to her lips and in one motion, Glorfindel tipped the contents down her throat and pressed her chin closed so she didn't spat it back out.

"Sleep, let the light of Valinor sooth you." Was the last words Glorfindel said as she closed her eyes and slept a blissful sleep she haven't felt in days.


Hey guys, yes things are patchy in places if you look had enough and its written to be, as we will find out our answers alongside Legolas when he returns. I'm just wrapping up the first part of the story by leaving you in the next chapter a few loose threads to keep you hanging. And I will apologise for that now but it will work to keep the story going. In the next chapter it will be barely outlining the deeds Isil have to complete as her punishment but this is again some thing we will find out more when Legolas does for when the second half of Don't you Fall come into play, Legolas is our elf who leads us into the story no Isil.

As a warning, you'll need to remember the small details as for example, mentioned in this chapter….

how many of you noticed that Isil's letter was placed in the right saddle bag in Rivendell, but when Cleborn hands it to Isil in Mirkwood, he pulls it out the left?…..hence the mix up of the two letters.

In future chapters, I will be making references to past chapters on small, insignificant details that are written to be overlooked at first, but play a bigger part in whole. If its wished by you the reviewers, I could leave a explanatory note and reference on where such links are made to clear up any misunderstanding. Let me know.

Well, the next chapter coming is the last told on Isil's behalf and many things will be cut off abruptly…….you'll just have to wait for the return of Legolas to pick up the pace………I'm mean aint I?

Xxxxxxxx