Disclaimer: I don't own "Lord of the Rings". I guess that explains everything else.

Author's note: Thanks everyone who is reading. :o) Smiles and kisses to all who reviewed. Here is another "chain" chapter. Sorry if it's not very eventful, but one needs to stay logical when it comes to untying the knots one made.

Deana: I thought you had left me… (sniffs) I was doing my best. :o)))

Faerlas: M-m-m, that would be too obvious. :o)) And too soon. And too good for Legolas. (By the way, should your name be translated from Sindarin, Drowish or Hen Llinge? I found equivalents in all these languages.)

Rennjenn: My applause. :o)) May I ask when you guessed about it? And – thank you for your review.

x-jacqui-x: I'm afraid Edwen is not very nutritious. :o)) Besides, he is important for the further development of events. We don't want it to finish right in this chapter, do we?

xerena: Wow. :o) Sure. As you wish. Here you are. Thanks. :o)

Chapter sixteen.

Never thought it was you.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!"

"Out of my room…" mumbled she through her nose and pulled a blanket on her head. Darkness was so cozy, so somnolent… Somebody dragged back a splendid piece of it, leaving her face bare again.

She felt soft lips on her forehead. The girl lifted the eye-lashes a little to decide, whether the one who was disturbing her deserved to be killed or forgiven, and made out a figure of her brother, dark against the golden torrent, flowing from the window of her room.

"Ralon…" smiled she, as he sat down on the edge of her bed and wrinkled his nose at her, just the way he did it when she was ten years old.

She was on the verge of telling him what an awful dream she had seen, when the last picture of it floated to the surface of her mind's vision, leaving her speechless. The same broad shoulders, the same height… The same black figure was imprinted in the bright door opening behind the majestic silhouette of the King of Mirkwood…

"Ralon?" repeated Rexia with distrust, "You? It was you?"

"It was me," agreed her brother calmly, "It had always been me, my little one."

Somehow she stopped doubting herself as soon as he spoke. He changed so much… His face lost its usual expression of naivety and capitation, she had used to see on it. Now it was the face of an easy-tempered, reserved and endlessly wise creature with deep, a bit sarcastic eyes and a serene line of the lips. He looked older, much older…But he still was her brother, now may be even closer to the one, she had needed him to be. She chuckled at her slow-wittedness.

"Why are you laughing?" asked Ralon, yet she saw that he was rather pleased with it than vexed.

"I was silly, wasn't I?" stated she, smiling an ironical smile, "Thinking myself so smart…"

"You were just too busy, love. And it's my fault."

"It wasn't you to make me a healer, brother," to her surprise he grew serious and looked down with a strange guilty air, "What's the matter?"

"I'm afraid you're mistaken," said he barely audibly, getting darker at her mistrust, "The thing is that your gift should have been mine. And it had been mine up to that day at the river. Remember it?"

Rexia nodded, still unbelieving. Her brother leaned against the backrest of the bed, staring into the empty air.

"You know, you should have never been brought into the world. I was to be the only child. I was to be taken to Valinor. I knew it and I hated it. I was lonely, and I think my loneliness was so great that I quite against my will used my power to make you born. Your birth caused certain changes in the line of fate, the result of which was my coming with you to the river. This body," he nodded at himself, "is imperfect. I understood what had happened when my soul was already leaving it. I had to do something, so I delivered a part of my abilities to you – enough to bring my body to life. I thought I would take it back."

"So why didn't you?" she wanted to know, trying to ignore a small shadow of resentment at finding out that she was not as important as she believed. And it didn't matter how much she herself disliked her talent.

"Those people didn't allow me to," Ralon shrugged his shoulders, "They had recognized you as a healer and I understood that I had no way back. I'm so very guilty before you. That burden was not yours."

Rexia frowned, remembering all the years she had spent in running round like a squirrel in a cage, tossing from one sick man to another. It filled her with odd pride and jealousy. She had never failed. She had stood it.

"I did well," uttered she obstinately, "You shouldn't feel sorry for me."

Ralon lit up, but immediately got gloomy again.

"Then I must show you one more thing," he stretched his hand out for her, "Take a look."

She touched his fingertips and the walls around her shrank, having covered with leaves. It was dim… The cold wind was lashing against her face. She peeped out of the trees, among which she was standing. She was doleful… She was angry…

…Her eyes caught sight of a lonely elf, aimlessly walking along the wrinkled mirror of the lake. She hated this elf, all the elves. It was their fault she had to live in the shadows… It was their fault she had to leave all she loved. Be they all cursed!

A knot of rage within her had grown so tight, that she wanted to scream and crush everything. The bark was peeling off under her nails… And then her mind exploded and she ceased existing…

…Rexia was gaping for air, unable to get rid of the image she saw last – a squirmed, broken body of that unlucky elf, his hair of or, soaking in blood from fresh wounds on the immaculate pale skin… And his sky-blue eyes, growing overcast with a dim shroud. For five years ahead…

"Legolas…" sobbed she, her heart tearing apart with pity and helplessness. Had she only known… A pain of parting renewed. It scorched even more to feel that she had left him alone, she, who had hoped to keep him safe for the rest of her life. She had betrayed him…

She felt Ralon embrace her, his hands stroking her loose hair.

"Don't cry, darling," whispered he, "It is all in the past. Now, look around."

Rexia turned her tear-stained face off his warm shoulder and opened wide her eyes. The room smothered in flowers, which she hadn't noticed before. Her bedside table was cluttered with fruits.

"Where did it come from?" asked she, wiping her eye-lashes, which stuck together from tears.

"Well, those ones," Ralon pointed at the bunch of sharply purple spheres, "are from king Thranduil. With his apologies and his gratitude for healing his son."

She winced a little, but braved a crooked smile. Her brother seemed not to notice her reluctance to elaborate on the subject, because he went on happily, showing her sweet-scented tufts, one after the other.

"Those lilies are from such a very tall elf. He insists on being acquainted with you. And this is from Edwen. With protestations that he regrets about his actions…"

"I wouldn't believe a word he says," interrupted Rexia angrily, "Throw them away."

"As you wish, darling," agreed Ralon with an evil smirk, "But you know, after I had a talk with him, he would regret even his having drowned Numenor. And he would be absolutely sincere."

"Oh please, Ralon, how can you be sure?" growled she, for a second casting aside the fact, that he wasn't the one to be reproached anymore.

His grin curved in a malicious manner, imparting the tinge of wicked irony to his face.

"Because he remembers almost nothing," drawled Ralon, perfectly mocking the voice of Legolas's uncle, "It's convenient for everyone. I'd tear him into pieces with great pleasure, but I'm not in the position to be cruel."

She arched a brow at his statement.

"Does it mean that you have already done something of the kind?" inquired she acidly. He nodded and suddenly burst out laughing.

"Tell me, sister, what would you do if a simple troublesome boy, who had been constantly getting underfoot and staring at you with his mouth always open, ran up to you and told you that he was the divine creature you had been looking for years?"

"Turn you out of the house," answered Rexia unhesitatingly.

"King tried to do the same," Ralon cast a dreamy glance at the ceiling, "And now, I'm afraid, a part of his house doesn't look as refined as it had looked before. I was in a hurry, you know…"

In spite of her low mood the girl couldn't help but smirk, having imagined the face of king Thranduil in that moment. "Rowdy", muttered she under her nose.

"I'll ask you one thing," said her brother, still smiling, "Don't tell Legolas I caused his blindness, all right? Or I won't live to see Valinor."

Valinor… How could she forget? How could she be so happy, when it was over?

The book was read up to the end. Now, they will leave, both of them. She was losing her brother, whom she had never known properly… She was losing her love, whom she had just found… And it was her fault.

"Don't worry," her voice was a hoarse whisper, "I won't talk to Legolas again."

"Oh!" suddenly exclaimed Ralon, as if he had passes off her words, "I almost forgot. I have a present for you, too."

He felt in his pocket and took out something brown and creased.

"I've found it here. Thought you will be upset to lose it."

"I don't understand why didn't you throw it away," said she, having a mere look at the withered leaf, laying on his palm. That leaf… Her lips were trembling with insult and sadness, though she was bravely endeavoring to keep a straight face. She couldn't believe Ralon was able to mock at her so cruelly.

"To throw away?" echoed Ralon, "Are you sure? Have a better look at it."

In the blink of an eye the leaf got smoothed out. Deep green colour filled its dry veins. Its blameless contours restored. Rexia was gazing at it, dizzy with astonishment. Then she reached out weakly and clutched it between her fingers – it was as fresh and beautiful as the day when she pulled it out of her locks. Ralon covered her hand with his and brought it to his lips.

"What a Vala am I, if I cannon make happy my own sister?" teased he softly, "Now rise and chant. They are waiting for us in the palace of Mirkwood."