I love all the suggestions coming out from you guys on who Amillo/ the girl is….but if only if it was that simple. Let me give you a clue…..i don't write stories in that straight forward manner and believe me, this is going to be one hell of a twist but a believable one at that! Just think outside the box!

Go back a bit and wonder why did the dissention ritual come into play…..as least if you thought about it, by the time I reveal why it'll make more sense.

People, if you want an accurate reason where the name Nerwen came from, click on my review pages and read what Zurgiea wrote – who does ramble a bit but hey!

Happy Chinese new year people!

Well here's another chapter and as you can see, I'm now taking my time to update for one main reason which is I don't want to rush and deliver a crap chapter so patience is a virtue!

The bond has been resurrected guys but in a way different than before, I hope it's pretty much self explanatory when you read that bit of the chapter. So enjoy and review any queries/questions/pov. Thanks!

Don't owe anything to do with Tolkien/LOTR or the films……yet!


Warrior Code – Always have plenty to say, even when you don't. words have a way where no weapons will.


"Too frumpy." Isil sigh as she watched Arwen twirled in yet another dress. She rose her head from the pillow and propped her chin in her hand with the onslaught of boredom.

"Frumpy?" Arwen looked in the mirror and tilted her head in wonder as she mused over Isil's choice of words.

"Something a human tart would wear and believe me I seen enough of them to know what they look like." Isil couldn't hide the smile she been struggling to conceal.

"Am I boring you? Do forgive me; you're here to have a rest not watch me in my dresses. Let me get changed." Arwen smiled and disappeared behind a screen where several moments later she reappeared in a more fitting dress.

Together they ventured out into the fields where they watched members of the Estolians wrestle, some bantered as they watched two heaving competitors skip and cajole each other into submission. They were sheltered by the silver trees of Valinor, a sense of divinity far from earth was their place they dwelt.

Settling down upon the grassy banks that overlooked the field, Arwen turned to Isil with a sense of purpose for she was determined to find out what was going on between the warrior lady and the fellowship prince.

"What's between you and Legolas?"

"Nothing." Isil didn't look up from watching Glorfindel and another elf from shedding their shirts and begin to grapple.

"Nothing?" Arwen rested her elbows on her knees as she watched Isil who wouldn't look at her.

"Why, did you think there was something going on?" Isil looked at her with one raised eyebrow but from the look on Arwen's face, she wasn't believed.

"It's……complicated." Isil finally gave in.

"How?"

"It just is. Complicated like your marriage to Aragorn. Is your ada talking to you?" Isil asked but Arwen shook her head with a wryly smile, "No he's not and don't change the subject."

"I wasn't." Isil grumbled.

"I know you don't want to tell me what's going on, but tell me this. Do you still love him?"

"Yes." Isil smiled.

"Will you be together?"

"In the future, I'll find a way."

Arwen went to ask another question, her divine face unrivalled in beauty looked puzzled as to how such a perfect relationship be faulted, when Gimli arrived with Haldir.

"Lady Isil, Lady Arwen, do you wish to make an old dwarf happy and join us for some duelling?" Gimli bellowed, the harmonious peace disrupted by the immense bellow of his voice.

"That will be our pleasure." Isil called back, casting Arwen a smile who rose to her feet.

Together they ventured down to the elves that smiled at their female companions and accepted a sword each.

"How does your axe handling skills fare, Lady Isil?" Gimli asked with a glint in his eyes that was impossible to miss.

"Fair enough, why, do you challenge me to a duel?" Isil smiled as Gimli handed her one of his own axes which was answer enough.

She grasped the heavy weapon to see Gimli frowning, "What?"

"You're holding it wrong lassie!" he bellowed with ill-concealed anger as he showed her how one was supposed to wield an axe.

Arwen was drawn into this lecture and before long, Gimli snorted at the clumsy attempts of some younger elves who threw the axes and praised the more accomplished weapon masters.

Time passed too swiftly and the party was interrupted by the arrival of Aragorn who applauded Arwen as he watched from the tree line.

"My love, Gimli training you in an art that have no use for you?" He teased as he yielded to her embrace; he suffered a lusty punch to his arm as Arwen pouted, "T'is not a useless art if I use my newfound skill to castrate my future husband is it?"

"Ouch." Muttered Glorfindel nearby as Isil rolled her eyes at Arwen's statement.

"I was hoping for a more welcoming arrival than to suffer the sharp edge of your tongue.

Maybe Lady Isil's welcoming is more acceptable?" Aragorn smiled at Isil, "As always, a pleasure to meet you my friend. I hope you don't mind me bringing a guest?"

"A guest? No why should I mind?" Isil smiled and inclined her head in respect for the human king.

"Who is the guest?" Arwen looked up at her lover, "An old friend." Was her answer.

"Legolas!" Gimi yelled, the question answered as the dwarf welcomed his brotherly comrade who walked over to join the party.

"Legolas, you are very welcome here." Arwen smiled as Legolas bowed his head to her.

"It is my pleasure to be here, I've much to catch up with since my long absence with your soon to be husband. And I see my little friend made a head start." Legoals raised an eyebrow and looked down at Gimli, who puffed out his chest as if he wasn't to be deterred by such a look.

"Isil asked if I would assist her upon her journey down here so naturally I accepted, with the prospect of seeing Lady Galadriel…."Gimli trailed off, knowing he revealed more than intended.

"So naturally that swayed your decision and left my kingdom without my knowledge. Very ill-ly done Gimi." Legolas chastised his friend in a cool manner but a smile broke out upon his face, "But I forgive you, for I too have been struck by wanderlust."

"It seems we all are brother, I wonder as much for the rest of the fellowship." Aragorn smiled.

"We'll soon find out at our wedding wont we?" Arwen smiled up at Aragorn who kissed her, such a sign of emotion provoked an exasperated groan from Gimi who muttered, "Here we go again."

"Well, we best leave you be then, Isil and myself have an invite to see Keay and Arkle's place. Perhaps you wish to join us Legolas? After all, they were your servants…..that if Isil……" Glorfindel looked at Isil with worry as he realised his suggestion may prove tricky to agree with.

"I'm sure Isil will be most hospitable and put aside any emotions directed towards me." Legolas replied, his unusually bold and straight forward comment for an elf who usually think twice was greeted by surprise when Isil rose her eyebrows and Glorfindel hastily turned a gasp into a cough.

"After all, we are adults aren't we?" Isil recovered.

"Quite and that reminds me, your parents send their love." Legolas smiled though the gesture didn't reach his eyes which remained cool and alert, picking up signals he hoped to gain from his new approach to Isil.

"My parents? How did……"Isil slowly mumbled her confusion till she realised that Legolas must have come into direct contact with her family, her face changed from caution to pure anger and Legolas, ignoring this looked over at Glorfindel and smiled, "Lead the way for I'm eager to catch up with Arkle and Keay."

Glorfindel and Legolas talked loudly and good heartedly as they walked into the city of Lothlorien, where the trees were busy with the traffic of elves yet held tranquilly in their everyday movements unlike rowdy, noisy Eryn Lasgalen.

They were followed by Isil who silently fumed at Legolas's behaviour, many a curse whirled round in her head at how he seemed to follow her every movement and she kicked a stone with such force, she watched it clatter down the dirt track for a good few meters.

"Here we are, let me go on up and announce our arrival." Glorfindel started climbing up the rope ladder leading upwards to a talan where came some tantalising aromas that told them Keay was a remarkable cook.

"What are you doing you…..you…snake!" Isil grabbed Legolas arm as she marched up to him, he looked innocently at her, "What? Are you really fussed about me inviting myself to Keay's talan?"

"Yes….no! you know what I mean! How dare you see my parents….."

"They are citizens of my kingdom and I'm entitled to pay a visit to them though I have to admit I was troubled by what I heard. But never you mind…."

"Never you mind!" Isil snapped, her anger was almost comical for him to see but he looked up the ladder and started climbing, leaving Isil to stare at the empty air he once occupied.

"Coming?" he called down and Isil angrily started climbing the ladder and ignored Legolas's pro-offered hand.

"After you." He drawled all good natured and charming as he gestured to the threshold that was Keay's home. Isil stomped past him then pasted a stiff smile upon her face when she realised she was a guest in someone else's home.

"I thought I heard more voices than yours Isil unless you talk to yourself." Keay called out as she bent down rather awkwardly due to her bump to take out a hot plate of food from the small oven she had.

"Nay, you got another uninvited guest." Isil smiled as she stepped away from the door to allow Legolas to enter who had to duck his head down to squeeze under the door frame.

"Oh prince Legolas! You're most welcome!" Keay smiled as she hugged her former master in a friendly embrace.

"I hope you don't mind me coming up here?" Legolas smiled.

"No, Arkle will be most pleased to see you. He'll be home any moment now but please, sit down." Keay gestured to a spindly, worn wooden chair that looked as if it was a hand me down.

Guilt racketed Legolas's body at the prospect that he was the main reason why Keay and Arkle were forced from their homes to reside miles away from family and friends, when especially with Keay due to give birth any day now.

"How the young one today?" Glorfindel asked, and Keay smiled, "Been kicking quite a bit today so I know he'll be coming soon."

"He?" Legolas smiled, "You're expecting a boy?"

"We are and we can't wait!" Keay beamed as she stroked her bump with a loving gesture that any expecting mum would do. She looked out the door and smiled, "Arkle's here."

It was commonly known for elleths to be super-receptive during their pregnancy and heightened senses were one issue they had to deal with. Keay's prediction proved correct when the three guests could hear Arkle trample along the path and began climbing the ladder to his home.

"Coo-ee!" he yelled as he entered and walked over to Keay, pressed a kiss to her cheek and affectionately stroke the bump.

"And how's the expecting father?" Glorfindel smiled as he rose from his chair to see if he could help serve up dinner in any way.

"Excited, though situations are far from perfect, Keay's mother should be here but since that bastard Thranduil….." Arkle snarled but he was hushed quickly by Keay's elbow as she called out, "Cup of tea Legolas?"

Arkle blinked and then looked behind Glorfindel to see as well as Isil who he was expecting, the other chair was occupied by his former master who sheepishly smiled, "Please."

"Prince Legolas, I was just saying that Thranduil….that…." Arkle tried to soothe his hasty words but Legolas rose to his feet, "Don't worry about it, I'm quite aware of what my father so wrongly done to you both. In fact I agree to your choice of words. My father is a bastard……from what I can gather." Legolas shot Isil a look, who ignored him.

There was a moment's silence then Arkle sheepishly shrugged, "Like father like son eh?"

He grinned as Legolas swiped at his head but missed, "If you're implying I'm a bastard then you're wrong."

"That's open to interpretation." Muttered Isil but Legolas heard every word, "Though Isil may disagree." He added, and all eyes looked at her.

"Er….disagree to what?" Isil stumbled as she sought an answer to avoid yet another fight she would lose.

"That's sorted, let's have dinner!" Keay smiled, as she pulled out a dish which in sat a large chicken surrounded by herd infused vegetables that got much praise as they took their place at the table. Legolas shrugged out of his travelling cloak and took a seat across from Isil who had quickly taken her seat next to Glorfindel to avoid an unsuitable partner.

They politely talked for a while of the comings and goings of Lothlorien and of Aragorn and Arwen's forthcoming wedding, their voices accompanied by the clatter and scrape of cutlery upon plates, compliments to Keay's wonderful cooking and general request to past the salt or the bread.

"I hear Lady Sana's in town." Glorfindel spoke up, unaware he couldn't have picked a worst topic to bring up, and this news was greeted by groans and to their surprise a curse from Legolas.

"I take it Lady Sana isn't the most popular elleth in these parts then?" Glorfindel slowly asked unsure weather to pursue his chosen topic or to bring up a new one.

"No and you couldn't find another elf in middle earth who is as unpopular as her." Isil smirked as she speared her potato with her fork with some relish.

"Maybe Morgoth." Arkle smiled as he spoke of the first dark lord long before Sauron who was once an elf like them.

"That's pushing it." Legolas replied, this was greeted by a few chuckles and Keay rose to her feet and gasped. They all halted in eating, forks poised to open mouths and cups halfway in the act of being drunk from.

"Are you ok?" Isil went to rise to her feet but Arkle got there first and gently moved his wife to sit down in a more comfortable chair.

"I'm fine, just a painful kick from trouble in here." Keay winced as she fidgeted to find a more comfortable position in which to relax.

"You're overdoing it again." Arkle frowned as she waved his fussing hands off her.

"I'm fine now finish your dinner." She scolded and Arkle reluctantly went back to the table to join his guests.

"Just don't give birth on me." Arkle muttered a joke that was greeted by a few smiles.

The rest of the dinner went by without any more interruptions and much to Keay's protest Legolas started washing up.

"Well I suppose I better take it easy." She grumbled as she accepted another cushion from Isil who placed it behind her back.

"It is nice that we're having a royal wedding." Keay mused aloud, this was greeted by general murmurs of agreement, "Couldn't happen to a nicer couple. So, got a lady friend yet Glorfindel?"

"Not as of yet, been far too busy to even begin looking. Maybe with all this war being over, I can settle down a bit and play the field." Glorfindel looked up from putting the dishes away.

"Maybe I can join you?" Legolas smiled, the two elves shared a masculine smile and the matter was agreed to.

"And you Isil?" Keay asked.

"Don't be silly Keay, I'm not wasting my time on matters of love." Isil replied somewhat tersely.

"But everyone needs to seek relief from time to time." Arkle pointed out, Legolas couldn't miss the challenging glint in Isil's eyes, "And what if I'm already taking my relief. Doesn't mean I have to be public about it." She smiled a smug smile as she watched Legolas's eyebrows rose to the claim.

"Do we really need to be talking about this?" Glorfindel tactfully complained, he looked from Legolas to Isil who both seemed to be engaged in a silent duel of the eyes, it was Legolas who broke away first and resumed washing up.

"Do you know where you're staying yet Legolas?" Glorfindel asked the prince who looked up from the soapy suds, "I haven't met Galadriel yet so I need to do so soon before she thinks ill of my arrival."

"Then you best be on your way!" Keay called out, having heard them quietly talking from the other side of the talan.

"Then at your insistence, I'll be off but rest assured, I'll be back soon to catch up with you two." Legolas kissed Keay on the cheek and patted Arkle on the shoulder, after saying a somewhat terse farewell to Isil and smiled at Glorfindel, he left the talan and began climbing down to the ground.

Walking back onto the main paths, his memories lead him to the central heart of Lothlorien where the trees stood taller and prouder due to their powerful occupants.

Here, melodious songs were sang, sweet words that drifted to the ground like the autumn leaves he seen the last time he was here. The plants sparkled like they were coated in a thin film of frost and even though winter has yet to relinquish its icy fingers, tiny buds of spring were blooming, offering the air a sense of hope and renewal. Legolas smiled as he started ascending the steps which he knew lead up to the quarters of the Lady Galadriel.

"Bringer of hope is stepping upon my stairs yet his heart lies as dark as the troubled times he's been through." A clear, harmonic voice echoed in his mind, he knew not to disregard the voice for he knew it was Galadriel talking to him in her unique way.

He climbed the last few steps to see Galadriel standing as regal as he saw her last time with fellowship, Celeborn was noticeably absent and Galadriel smiled at his curiosity.

"He's not required to be my side every moment of the day and night Prince Legolas, my heart sings to see you once more yet I am troubled for you too bring the clouds of trouble and strife."

"Milady?" Legolas bowed his head though his eyes watched the divine lady.

"I sense that Isil in the centre of your turmoil. Her heart still houses the pain she been through hence remains the ice from her long winter. But like the barren, chilled land, it will warm with the arrival of spring.

But hold! I feel something….something that's was apart of you. Something that lingers with you, waiting for you to rediscover it." Galadriel smiled. "Close your eyes Legolas and try to find it."

Legolas did so, closing his eyes with no clue as to what he's supposed to find.

"Think deeper." Galadriel's voice resonated in his head as he felt his mind plunge deeper into the deepest depths of his soul, the emotions he had hidden and forgotten surrounded him. They reached out for him, pain from his departure from Isil, the childish arguments he had with his father, the agonising suffering of the death of his mother. His choked back a sob as he heard Galadriel's voice command to dig deeper. He felt himself being sucked down to a dark pit where he felt very alone, he looked up to see like clouds, his ghastly memories lazily drifting overhead. Whatever was down here, kept them from touching him. His ears picked up a faint sound, his heart recognising before his brain registered the voice. The sweet, faint song danced about him and he reached out for it, allowing the tune to lure him closer and closer till he saw a small ball of light which from it grew tiny tentacles of divine light that swam and danced to some invisible tempo.

The song grew louder and Legolas strained to hear the words which were unknown, instead he reached out and the ball of light with its tentacles danced on his fingers like a dandelion seed with its feathery sails before sinking into his palm and illuminated his body, the sweet light making him feel warm and safe. Somewhere he could here Galadriel's voice calling him to resurface and he did so, waking from his trance as clear and alert as normal.

"What was that?" he breathed as he flexed his hand in wonder of what it was that captured his soul.

"You hold something close to you that belongs to another, someone you shared a bond with." Galadriel spoke, her voice softer than before as Legolas reached into his pocket and pulled from it a plait of hair. Isil's hair.

"You've found the bond that once existed between you, something that kept you safe and loved."

"The bond that I had with Isil? How come it still exists after all this time?" Legolas asked with the greatest of confusion.

"The bond anyone formed to another being is something that remains always, like a scar or a memory. Though broken, it still there like a broken cord that can be retied. Though with this bond there is something different. Instead of seeing that Isil sees now or how she's feeling at the present. You can see what was by something that triggers off the bond like a memory. You may share her dreams as well and inner most thoughts by you cannot communicate to her, rather you're like a ghost." Galadriel patiently explained as Legolas stared dumbfounded at the plait of hair.

He stroked the golden strands as somewhere a voice chided him to close his eyes and think. Almost at once, the vision of Isil came to him as if he was a spectre in the same room watching in.

The pale light of day was stifled by the heavy drapes of red velvet curtains. Within the room, candles were the replacement for natural light. The room though dark was heavily occupied. Two guards were at the door with their armour of Mirkwood, Thranduil's own guards glistening in the faint light. Two more stood rigidly behind Isil who was seated on a stool, clad in a virginal white gown and her hair flowing free. By the fire place which was alit with the flames that gave light to the painter, an elf with hair tied back and dark eyes glistening as he surveyed the beauty who sat before him, he mixed his paints with painful patience till he's happy with the right hue he been struggling for. With baited breath, he bent his head down and applied his one of many fines brushes made from various rare woods and fine horsehair, to the maid in his painting. The rosy complexion was caught superbly as so was the fire in her eyes as she stared defiantly back at him, despite the punishment awaiting her. With the last touch of paint, he looked over to Thranduil who just joined the scene to watch the gifted crafts man paint his wares.

"Milord, it is finished." He barely spoke, somehow his heart thudded harder as he was the distant panic in the maid's eyes as Thranduil looked up from the painting and waved to the guards who silently obeyed to his wordless command. Another guard entered the room, a large bowl of water in his hands and a small dagger hanging from his belt as he placed both items on a small table next to Isil.

"Begin." Thranduil spoke and the guard wordlessly selected a handful of the thickest hair and pulled it taunt, provoking a gasp from Isil's mouth as tears pricked her eyes from the tautness of her scalp. The pain of feeling her hair being wrenched from her body and the crude knife scraping through her thick locks made Isil bite her lips but it didn't prevent a tear from crawling down her cheek.

Her golden strands floated down into her lap, her fingers touching the hair that once was hers that was now strewn upon the floor. Again the guard grabbed her hair and again painfully began to cut it in a rough, saw like manner and again the pain made tears came too easily.

"It's too late to cry." Thranduil's voice spoke coldly and at his very words, Legolas flinched at how heartless his beloved father sounded.

"It's too late for you Thranduil." Isil spoke calmly back.

"Too late for what?" Thranduil snapped, when Isil didn't speak but instead looked at him if she knew something he didn't; he stormed over and grabbed the dagger from the guard's hand.

"Milord!" the guard objected but he was silence by the very anger in the king's eyes as he grabbed Isil's hair, ignoring her loud cry of pain and hacked at her hair, not caring if the knife blade slipped too deep into the maid's scalp, not caring if blood mattered his fingers and made his work clumsy and slippery. Not listening to the pleads of Isil as she begged him to stop, ignoring the salt tang of blood in the air, of the sick horror in which the guards were forced to watch on. Only when he finished, Isil was a mess and when he stormed from the room did Isil cry.

The guards and the painter looked at the bleeding elleth, the elleth the prince so loved and prayed to the valar that the prince will be merciful if he ever found out their part in which they played. They went to help the elleth, ignoring the regimented calls of duty that normally compels them to remain emotionless but Isil refused all help, and walked from the room tall and proud, despite the tears upon her cheeks and her bloody scalp that bled with rough tatters of hair scattered in places, giving her an air of an insane creature.

At her departure, the painter collected her shorn hair and place it in a pouch. The guards too, took a strand of hair each, a reminder of the elleth who defied her kingdom's laws and paid dearly.

Legolas came too, and found himself upon his knees, his fingers clutching his own scalp as if to prevent his own father from horribly cutting his hair. His eyes bright with unshed tears as he slowly looked up at Galadriel who bent down before him.

"Your path is going to be a long one Legolas and one where you'll have to make a choice. The waters which tell me much forbids me to allow you to look upon its surface. But know this, answers are closer than you think." Were her words before he passed out, the pain of Isil were the last thing he felt as his body slumped against the cold floor.