AN: meekly enters the room I am SO sorry for not writing sooner. I tried, I really did, but there's been so much happening in the Real!World…I just didn't have the time to type it up. I promise to try and update sooner next time (and make a longer chapter…I can't WAIT to get the next few out bg). Thank you so much to everyone for sticking with me for this chapter. Sorry to have to say there's a minor Kleenex Warning for this one.

Okay, I won't keep you any longer…runs off

Chapter Eleven

Current Mood: weak

Current Music: 12 years old- Kim Stockwood

This morning I woke up with the worst headache I've ever had.

After we left the ship, Haldir and I were attacked by spiders. I was stung several times, but luckily Haldir was unhurt. Legolas and his scouts found us and brought us back to Lasgalen.

Doran and Cariell came to see me this morning, which helped my mood somewhat. They said that the crew arrived without incident and are all enjoying their time in the city. Doran tells me Haldir delivered his message as soon as he could gain audience with the King, and that when he'd left the court he seemed…upset. I want to ask him about it later, I don't even know what the message was.

Salébiel tells me that I'm healing well, and that the dizziness is normal after being injected with so much venom. She said it will be at least a day or so until I'm back to normal, and until then I have been restricted to the healing wards. I'm starting to get a little restless. I'd rather be doing something – anything other than just sitting here.

At least they brought me my favorite chair.

Mirien sat sprawled across the arms of the large, soft chair dominating the corner of her room, idly braiding her hair. On the floor in a circle around her lay a myriad of various items – a stack of books, paper and quill, a pitcher and glass of water and a half-empty food tray. After several escape attempts, Salébiel thought it best that Mirien be confined, lest she exert herself and become more sick than she already was.

After finishing off the end of one braid, she tossed it over her shoulder with a sigh and picked up the book that lay open on top of the pile. She'd been reading it off and on all morning, hoping to keep her mind off trying to leave her 'prison', but knowing that it was for her own good. She wasn't really paying attention to the words on the page, instead going through all the concerns her mind was plagued with. What was Haldir's message? Why did it upset him? What was the King's response? And most importantly, why does Haldir's being upset bother her so much? But that wasn't all that was on her mind.

Every few moments, thoughts of her parents would work their way into her mind. She knew they had come to see her when she'd been brought in, but hadn't seen them since she'd woken. She couldn't help the feeling of scared excitement at the thought that they could come at any moment to see her. Part of her, a big part, wanted desperately to see them again - it had been a long time since she had been held close in her mother's warm embrace. But there was still a part of her that feared their meeting. She still did not have the words she needed to explain her feelings towards Ameron, and she knew they wouldn't understand. At least her father wouldn't.

It was then, nearly noontime, when she looked up from her book at the sound of the door opening. Somehow, she wasn't at all surprised to see her parents walk in, but still she felt the jolt of shock (or was it fear?) at finally seeing them. With a trembling hand she lay her book back down and opened her arms to embrace her mother, finally feeling the safety of her arms around her.

"My dear child," she cooed at her daughter. "I am so glad to see you safe. I was so worried when they told me what had happened!" She released her and sat one of the chairs her father had brought over. Mirien looked up, caught in his gaze that made her feel more like an elfling than a Captain.

"You are well," he asked, sounding more like a statement than a question. Somehow, he always managed to make the simplest question sound like an interrogation.

"Yes," she answered hesitantly, "the healers say I should be fine by tomorrow."

"Good, then you can attend the banquet tomorrow evening," he said curtly. Her mother turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"Almerin, please, is that necessary? She should rest and recov-"

"She said she will be healed by then," he responded, cutting her off, "and she will have today and tomorrow to rest."

"I would, Ada, but I really think that I should-"

"It is the celebration for the anniversary of the King's conception. As daughter of the Chief Advisor you will be expected to attend." Mirien opened her mouth to protest further, but closed it again, realizing the futility of such a gesture. She learned at a very young age not to ever argue with him.

"Yes, Adar," she said meekly, lowering her head. Almerin looked as if he were about to continue when an elf appeared in the doorway.

"My Lord? The King asks for you." All three of them looked up at the words and Almerin turned back to smile apologetically at his daughter. Leaning forward, he took her face in his hands and kissed her on the forehead before rising from his seat.

"I will come back to see you later," he said with a warmth that surprised her. She nodded mutely and watched him leave.

"Well, I am so glad to have you back," her mother began as if they had been deep in conversation for the past while. She didn't seem to notice her daughter's awkwardness at all. "Everyone has been wondering how you're doing. I knew when you married that I would be seeing you less and less, but it still would be nice to have more time with my only daughter," she said, punctuating her statement with a soft caress of Mirien's cheek. She leaned into the touch, grateful for her mother's warmth that somehow made it easier for her to bring up what's been troubling her.

"Nana," she said quietly, unable to meet her mother's eyes. Concerned, she tilted her daughter's chin up to look full on her face.

"What's troubling you, mela?" Mirien sighed, and decided it best to be direct.

"Have you ever…fallen out of love…with Adar?" she asked. Her mother stared at her for a moment, as if deciding whether her daughter was being serious or not, before frowning.

"I don't understand, how do you mean?" Mirien sighed again and sat straighter in her chair, clasping her hands in her lap and studying them as if they held the answers to all her questions.

"I mean…have you ever, even just briefly, not loved him?" She looked up hopefully at her mother once again to find her seriously considering the question.

"Well," she said after a moment, "I suppose sometimes after he'd disciplined either you or your brothers for something when you were children, bu-"

"No, nana, that's not what I mean," she interrupted, instantly feeling guilty for cutting her mother off. "You just feel…well, nothing. You don't feel anything for him at all, and cannot understand why…" she trailed off. Her mother looked closer at her and lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Mirien, is something wrong between you and Ameron?" she asked gently. Mirien looked up, feeling tears pricking her eyes.

"We have decided to separate," she whispered. She watched as her mother's face crumbled in what might have been pain, or sympathy. Reaching for her daughter, she enveloped her in a tight, comforting hug, listening with a mother's love to her daughter's weeping.