Part Six

The End of All Things

Hold onto me love

You know I can't stay long

All I wanted to say was I love you and I'm not afraid

Can you hear me?

Can you feel me in your arms?

Holding my last breath

Safe inside myself

Are all my thoughts of you

Sweet raptured light

It ends here tonight

Evanescence – My Last Breath

The room was shrouded in silence. No noise disturbed it, save the steady breathing of the elf next to me. I was lost in thoughts, they drifted through my mind and I was powerless to stop their flow, whether I wanted to hear them or not. My thoughts were of Osellë. How could she have left? I still fought the truth of what Lord Elrond had said, despite all evidence to the contrary. Osellë would not abandon me. I clung to that fading hope as two small figures burst through the door. "Is this the chamber of Legolas and Vénea?" they questioned cautiously and I squinted through the gloom to try and make out their faces. "It is. Why do you ask?" I replied equally cautiously. There was a loud sigh of relief and I recognised the faces of Merry and Pippin as they drew nearer the bed. "Phew! Finally; we've been in six chambers already and we've made ourselves very unpopular doing so!" Pippin informed me, leaning his elbows on the edge of the bed. I frowned to hide my amusement, and got straight to the point, speaking quietly so as not wake Legolas beside me who still slept. "What are you doing here? Legolas is not yet awake, if you seek his company." Merry shook his head fervently, "We do not seek his company, nor do I think he will seek ours when he has heard what we came to say." His cryptic comment aroused my suspicion and curiosity so it was with some trepidation that I questioned him further, "What do you mean by that?" Pippin shuffled his feet and carefully avoided meeting my gaze. "We spiked his drink with cider." Merry muttered, so low that I felt I would have needed Elven hearing had it gone but an octave lower. "You did what!" I could not keep my voice quiet any longer. What on Middle-Earth was going here? I hoped for their own sake that these hobbits were playing a trick on me! "Have you no sense of self-preservation?" I questioned in genuine confusion, "Legolas will surely kill you when he finds out!" I had meant the last sentence in jest, but the looks on the faces of Merry and Pippin told me it had not been received as such. I was about to open my mouth and reassure them when there was a stirring on the bed at my side.

Legolas groaned. His head throbbed like there were a thousand dwarves all pounding away with their hammers in there. Even the slight light from between the cracks in the curtain that covered the window hurt and he moved his arm to shield his eyes, rolling onto his side. A small laugh from beside him caught his attention and he opened his eyes to slits as Vénea turned raising onto one elbow to face him, "How do you fare?" she questioned softly and he turned his head to face her more fully before replying. "I am fin-" she cut him off with an evil glare before he could even finish the word. Still glowering she settled onto both elbows at his side. "I should have known better than to ask you!" she chided, "You always say that and more often than not you lie! Next time I will not be so foolish, I will just check for myself." She brushed his hands away in impatience as he attempted to ward off the hands that pressed to his head to check for signs of fever. It was his turn to glower, as she held him helplessly pinned to the bed while she checked each and every slight thing that might have been amiss. Satisfied, she settled back, "It seems you are fine, for now." She conceded reluctantly, "Though not up to full-strength otherwise I would not have been able to pin you down so easily. I'd wager you have a splitting headache, but are too proud to admit it." She finished with a definitive side-ways toss of her head and turned towards the door. "Now be nice, meleth-nin," she added her tone of voice softening, "You have visitors, though whether they are wanted or unwanted is a matter yet to be resolved." She smiled cheekily and Legolas resisted the urge to groan once more as the cheerful babble of the two previously unnoticed hobbits made his head pound even harder than before. "We didn't mean to," blurted Pippin nervously as he approached the bed-ridden elf with trepidation. "We thought it would lighten you up a bit," added Merry helpfully, tactfully ignoring the dark look sent his way by the Prince. "It was just a little drop of cider," whispered Pippin remorsefully and Legolas' eyes flew fully open, "Pippin! Merry!" he admonished, "You know I don't drink! I have always said-", Merry cut him off. "We know what you have always said, but we thought maybe you'd never actually tried it and maybe-" It was Legolas' turn to cut him off now, and he did so with a roll of his eyes. "Did it not occur to you that maybe there was a reason I do not drink alcohol? This has happened to me before, only the last time…" He finished, his voice exasperated, "I do not even remember." I was suspicious of this statement as I saw the beginnings of a blush stain his pale cheeks a faint crimson. Merry turned to Pippin and muttered quietly, thinking Legolas would not hear, "That's five shillings you owe me Pip. I said it'd turn out like this."

Elrond stretched his arms out in front of him and walked slowly to the door of his chamber, easing out all the stiffness as he went. Pulling the heavy door open he suppressed his yawn at the tiredness that surged through him. It had been a long night indeed! He heard the distant sound of voices from Legolas and Vénea's chamber, just down the hall from his own. It was with some satisfaction that he surmised Legolas must have awoken, the effect of the cider and chocolate on him hopefully having worn off. He turned his weary head to look the other way down the hall, hoping to see Celboril and bid him prepare a refreshing cup of tea, which would be most welcome at present. "WHAT!" the loud shout broke through his tired brain and almost shattered his eardrums, "YOU MADE BETS ON THIS! I'LL HAVE YOUR HEADS!" this enraged cry was followed by the sound of fast moving feet, and only Elrond's quick reflexes saved him from being trampled by the two hobbits as they raced past. Elrond shook his head slightly; surely he was seeing and hearing things. He must be more tired than he first thought… Moments later Elrond was forced to throw himself flat against a wall as a very annoyed Legolas stormed past, hot on the heels of the escaping Halflings, his eyes burning in rage, still in his sleep tunic, crumpled from the night. Elrond watched bemused, this was all very odd, but surely it must be a lack-of-sleep induced mirage? All such ideas were banished as Vénea sailed past moments later, chasing after Legolas frantically. Had Elrond moved from his position against the wall he would have ended up flat on his back as she brushed past, intent on capturing her husband, "Legolas! Meleth-nin, wait!" she cried, just before she and Legolas disappeared from Elrond's view. Elrond gave a soft moan, just like a normal morning in the Homely house, he thought wearily. He turned around and, closing the door firmly behind him, Elrond went back to bed.

I chased the hobbits and Legolas until my legs could carry me no further. I leant heavily against the wall, panting for breath as Legolas and the hobbits disappeared from my view. I waved them off with a 'good-riddance' flick of the wrist and turned my back against the wall placing my hands on my knees as I attempted to return oxygen to my starved lungs. When I could breathe once more I looked up and for the first time registered my surroundings. I was in the hall, just opposite from Osellë's room. My heart heavy with dread I pushed open the heavy oak doors and stared in dismay at the empty room and un-slept-in bed. My tenuous hold on control broke and I fell to the floor sobbing openly. "How could you leave me?" I wailed to the silent and foreboding walls, "How could you?" I had never felt so utterly abandoned since my father died. She had betrayed my trust and left me in this unfamiliar place, with so many unfamiliar faces. What had I done that she should leave me thus? In my opinion her betrayal was unforgivable. Forlornly, I stumbled to my feet and made my way, half-blind with tears, to the edge of the bed. I sat there and sobbed until I thought my heart would break. It was in the midst of this despair that I caught a flash of white on the table beside me. Reaching out I grasped the piece of paper and began to read;

Dear Venea,

It is best for both of us that I should go; do not seek to follow me. I will not be a damper on your married life as I would be if I remained.

I must tell you that I love your husband; I have adored him since childhood. I have had too many years of suppressing myself and I feel that I will be soon unable to control my ardour – therefore I leave and bury my love and grief in the West.

Watch those around you, especially those Elves of Thranduil's court; they do not take lightly to such a violation of their tradition.

When you need me, I will come, call my name in your hour of need and I will be with you as soon as I can. Do not fear that I will not hear you – our fates and that of Legolas are irrecoverably entwined. I will see you again ere you die.

Do not think that I hate you because you have married him whom I love, anyone who sees him cannot but fall in love with him. I do not blame you for it, and you are still "mellon-nin".

Ná Elbereth veria le, ná elenath dín síla erin rád o chuil lín.

May Elbereth protect you, may her stars shine on the path of your life.

Osellë

As I finished I dimly reached out and picked up the jewel that lay beside it. It was the necklace Osellë had worn on my wedding night. Realisation dawned on me, as powerful as the blow from a hammer and I was temporarily stunned. How painful this must have been for her! Had I been so blinded by love that I failed to see her torment? She had introduced me to the man she loved, watched him fall in love with her best friend, witnessed the entire courtship and then been forced to be bridesmaid at their wedding! Guilt overwhelmed me and I held the letter close to my chest, unsure what to think. Had she told me sooner of her intentions towards the Prince would all have been different? I realised with a pang of self-hate that I was not sure. Even with knowledge of her feelings there was a little voice inside me that warned I would not have changed my course of actions, though I would very probably have felt a lot guiltier about them. With a second shock I wondered how things might have turned out had she declared her feelings openly. Would I have been bridesmaid at her wedding instead of visa-versa? I shuddered with fear at the thought, feeling conflicting emotions of overwhelming relief and lingering sadness that things had not turned out such. This note changed everything and in my mind there was but one possible course of action. I would show the letter to Legolas and bid him tell me the truth. If he loved her also, then…Then my heart would break. But at least I would know. With this dark plan in mind I rose to my feet, reluctance in every movement, as I walked to face what I was sure was to be the end of my marriage.

King Thranduil awoke with a splitting headache as Lord Elrond had predicted. His bellows of rage at any servant who was unfortunate enough to put even a toe wrong, rang over the whole forest of Lothlorien. Not even Galadriel, wielder of one of the rings of power, dared enter his room. All the elves who had been drugged the night before awoke with headaches, but no further after-effects of the chocolate and began confused chatter with one another over what had happened the previous night. Aragorn, Arwen, Jonath and all those others, who had been kept up half the night chasing down the rampant elves, had sunken heavily into the deeply padded chairs at one end of the main hall and were sitting there trying to keep from dozing. Many of them were failing. The forest of Lorien continued on, blissfully unaware of the events of the night before, it's peace marred only by the shrieking of the elf and two hobbits that chased relentlessly under its eaves. Many members of the household awoke that morning to the cry of, "YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS, HALFLINGS!"

I knew the route the Halflings would take in their avoidance of Legolas; I had chased around it so many times. I took a short cut to the most convenient point along it and waited, it would only be a matter of time. My patience was well rewarded as mere seconds later the hobbits charged around the corner. I hastily rushed forward to put my plan into action and shoved the plant pot I had carefully collected earlier under the feet of Legolas. As I predicted he was still hung-over from his previous encounter with cider and his speed and balance were not at their best. He tripped right over it, as I had done many times before, but I was sure to step in and catch him before he hit the ground and did any real damage. "Meleth-nin," I greeted him with a wicked smile, "Finally, do you understand my mistrust of plant pots, now that you share my bad luck with them?" He glowered in response and my smile only broadened. "You tripped me," he muttered reproachfully as he regained his feet and I released my grip on him. Brushing off his tunic he gazed at me in reproach. "I know," I replied, calmly meeting his gaze with a steady look of my own. The two hobbits, who had stopped when they heard Legolas' yelp of surprise as he fell into my trap, slowly crept forward during our conversation and were now gazing at him beseechingly. "Please Legolas," gasped Pippin, "chase us no more, we are truly sorry!" Legolas favoured them with a glare, but I could see he was melting behind it. "You should not have given me cider without my knowledge or made bets on me," he growled, "there is a very good reason I do not drink. I think that the last time I was drunk, I shot my Father's attendant in the foot, mistaking him for an orc." I tried and failed to stifle my amusement at that comment and my misplaced efforts were rewarded with a further glare from Legolas, which I pointedly ignored. The hobbits did a better job of containing their amusement and within minutes they and Legolas were laughing together, forgiveness given on both sides. I felt a rush of dread as I realised that the time had come for the confrontation about the note I clutched in my hand, and with this in mind I began to tow Legolas away to a more secluded position. He did not question my tugging and followed amiably enough, convincing me to have Lord Elrond look him over when I was done; there had to be something wrong! The hobbits turned to leave giving us our privacy and momentarily forgot the wonders of Elven hearing as Merry muttered, "Well, now at least we can say that we outran an elf, and Legolas at that!" he muttered, his glee easily audible. Legolas turned with an annoyed snort, "It is well you did give me cider or I would have outrun you long before! Even elves get hangovers!" as realisation that Legolas had overheard their comment dawned the hobbits ran, fearing it would spark another chase, but Legolas merely laughed, turning to face me. "Why are you leading me away? Does something trouble you?" as he spoke he frowned slightly in concern, and at least one of my fears was acquiesced, there was nothing wrong with Legolas in that respect after all! "Yes, Legolas. Something troubles me deeply and I would not have you lie to me about it once I speak." His continence turned even more grave and he pulled me down so that we sat together on a nearby tree-stump. "Tell me." His brilliant blue eyes met mine and his gaze burned with intensity. "Osellë has departed this place," I spoke slowly, watching for the reaction my words would garner. He shook his head sadly, and I could tell from his eyes that he was wondering if this was all that troubled me. He opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand to silence him and continued, "She left me this," I handed him the note, and forced myself to watch as he read it. He took it from me and his expression changed from puzzlement, to sorrow, to grief. He placed it slowly on his knee and buried his head in his hands. I closed my eyes and gave a small sob of grief. It was as I had feared then. He did love her, and now I would have to give up everything I'd just received. The love of my life, a chance for eternal happiness and my heart, for it would surely break irreparably from this loss. I turned away and spoke my voice thick with tears barely held in check, "I shall begin to pack then. I would advise you inform Osellë of these proceedings with haste, she may already have reached the shores to the West." I spoke quickly as I rose not wanting to remain here a moment longer with my soon-to-be-ex husband. The weight of sorrow pulled heavily at my heart and threatened to pull me into darkness. I resisted the urge to scream, cry, do anything but remain calm and rational, even as I felt my heart shatter within me. Legolas' hand reached out and grabbed my arm and I raised my chin slightly, feeling my tightly leashed control waver, "I had no knowledge that Osellë felt so. For many centuries I harboured a hope that she would one day consent to be my wife, but she always seemed so withdrawn when I tried to bring it up." He sighed deeply as memories assailed him, " She was not always such. Before, when we were but children, she was the most open and caring soul you could wish to meet. But then orcs came and that Osellë was forever lost, though for many years I strove to re-find her." Legolas' voice was soft, lost in the past and my broken heart wept at the tenderness in it. Why did he torment me so? Could he not see, or did he no longer care, that I wanted only to leave this place and all I had lost? His next soft words were like a knife through my heart, "I did love her, more than the flower loves the morning dew." I could not control the quiet, but entirely heart-broken sob that wrenched itself from my lips as I fought against the grip on my wrist that kept me pinned by him. "But no more." His next words took my breath away and, though I still not dared turn to face him, hope twisted my stomach into knots. "She never returned my feelings, or so she led me to believe. I was always alone in this world: rejected by her and feeling as if I was doomed to forever be that way." The hollowness of his voice tore at my heart, and something inside me sprang free. Despite my own pain, I turned to pull him close and reassure him that I would not let him be alone. His next words came to my ears, muffled by my tunic; " I love you, not some shadow of Osellë that lingers in my heart. I love her now as a sister and nothing more. It is you that I wed and it is you that I will love until the end of days." His voice held total conviction and my emotions were still too raw to formulate any verbal response so I just held him tighter and relief coursed through me as I felt him grip me back even harder than I clutched him, if that were possible. Rain splashed down around me masking my tears with their cool drops and I could feel Legolas' own tears as they mingled with mine to splash onto the barren ground at our feet. The rain was fast staining the ground a dusty red and sobs racked my body with unusual force. My emotions still whirled in a vortex of confusion and there was but one thought that I clung onto in that mad world, 'He loves me.' Even as the rain poured down around us neither loosened their grip and I felt the heavy burden I had borne slowly wash away as the cool rain cleansed the glade.

NINE YEARS LATER

"When will you tell him then?" questioned Aswen, a wicked glint in her eye. I wrung my hands together nervously, "I have sent the guards to call for him. I said to tell him it was urgent. According to my calculations he should be here in three, two, one…" just as I finished Legolas burst through the door, his hair enchantingly ruffled from the wind. "Very good Vénea!" said Aswen below her breath as she stood to her feet to leave, "You'll have to tell me how you worked that out!" Aswen was my closest friend in Mirkwood and married to Legolas' cousin, Eldreth, who was worse than Legolas for staying out until all hours on a hunt. I rolled my eyes at her as she gathered her skirts and hastened to the door, sweeping a low curtsey to Legolas as she did so, "My Prince," she said reverently and left, I just caught a glimpse of her out-stretched tongue as the door thudded closed. I turned guilty eyes on Legolas, "What has happened, meleth-nin?" he questioned, taking me by the forearm and looking me over to check for obvious injuries. I wriggled in his grasp and when he did not release me I stomped on his foot in annoyance. With a short cry of 'Ouch!' he let go and hopped backwards, glaring reproachfully as he did so. "I am fine! I have some news that I need you to hear." I told him, edges of annoyance still lingering in my tone. He sat warily on the edge of our bed, twisting his leg so he could hold his injured toes more protectively in his hand. "Does it merit standing on my foot?" he questioned mildly, his annoyance fading to curiosity as I sat beside him. He turned to face me, one eyebrow raised. "Well?" I shifted uncomfortably, then making up my mind, just like that I blurted it out, "Legolas, a child is given to us!" The expression on his face said he thought I was joking. I moved my hands up to his shoulders and gave him a little shake, "I'm not lying to you, meleth-nin! A child is given to us!" the look of disbelief on his face changed slightly to become an expression of shocked disbelief. His flew wide open, "What? How?" he asked, his tone utterly perplexed. It was my turn at disbelief. "Surely you are not that naïve? We do not share a room purely to save space!" He was too surprised even to frown, "I know that!" he cried in exasperation, "But I did not think it was possible for Elves and humans to conceive." His eyes were still wide and I gave him a short hug out of sympathy. Aswen had said it was always a shock for the father. "Apparently you thought wrong." My eyes sparkled with mischief and he finally returned my smile, "But… this is wonderful! We shall have a celebration! Our very first child!" he grinned his exuberance madly. My eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What do you mean, 'first'?" I questioned warily. His only response was a wicked smile and he danced out of my reach so I could not even attempt to tickle it out of him. The guards, well aware of the antics of their playful monarchs, were quite expectant of what happened next. In fact when we burst out of the door moments later each armed with a pillow, I caught one of the guards checking the sun's position, as if wondering what was taking so long. I aimed a low blow with my feather-filled weapon, which Legolas easily parried, but I was prepared for that. As he opened his mouth to make a witty remark about my lack of skill in the art of pillow fighting, as he had done many times before, I flung my pillow at his mouth filling it with feathers. While he coughed at this unexpected mouthful, I forced all the air out of his lungs with a well placed swipe of my pillow and finished straddling him on the floor to a round of applause from the watching guards. I grinned down at him, "Now tell me," I said brightly, "what you meant by 'first'?"

It was some weeks later when all the celebrating was over that Legolas and I came to have the discussion I had most feared and anticipated. I was sat on the swing in the Palace grounds, rocking idly to and fro, pondering just who might be forming in my stomach when he appeared soundlessly behind me. Twisting he sat next to me and turned to face me fully, "Vénea, would you have me give up my immortality for you?" just like that! To say it was out of the blue was an understatement. Perhaps seeing my stunned look, he hastened to make reassurances, "I would not mind! I have lived the life of an immortal and the life of a mortal would be a welcome change!" I could see that he did not lie to me, the truth was apparent in his gaze, but was there was something further he was not telling me, "Your Father does not approve, does he?" I questioned softly. Legolas sighed and reached out and grasped my hand, "He does not, but I would defy my Father if it is your wish, for I believe it is my wish also. I have lost too many people dear to me and I do not wish to count you among them. My heart would surely break and I would die anyway." He spoke with sincerity, but I could not help but feel that his Father would break from losing his son and I would not have the fall of Mirkwood as well as the death of Legolas on my head, "Meleth-nin, I would not ask you to do that for me. You will have much to live for after my passing: Aragorn, your Kingdom, and your Father, to name but a few. I cannot expect them to give you up. It would kill Aragorn if you died first and well you and I know it. I do not ask this of you." He bowed his head as I spoke and gave no reply. I saw a solitary tear slip down his cheek and felt a sudden need to take action, "I will never truly be dead to you, meleth-nin. As long as you live so will I." I reached out a hand to press against his heart, "In here. You won't loose me. I won't let you, I'm not easily got rid of you know," I finished proudly, raising my chin in defiance and certainty. He gave a sobbing laugh, "Oh, that I know all too well!" he cried raising his head and turning so that his gaze met mine, "I have been trying for the past nine years!" It was only through the fact that the agility and speed of elves far surpasses that of mortals, that Legolas was spared the vengeful kick aimed at his shin.

Being pregnant is not as easy as it looks. My head throbbed almost constantly and morning sickness made my life a living hell until at least noon every day. Many of the attendants in the Palace of Mirkwood were very sympathetic, even though many had never undergone pregnancy themselves, the majority being male. It was a dull and achy existence and my temper was almost constantly frayed. It was early one morning, and the morning sickness was giving me what-for. My head felt like an entire clan of dwarves, all armed heavily with hammers had battered their way in and were now proceeding to smash everything in sight. It was a most unpleasant feeling and, to top it all, the infant in my stomach seemed to have decided that nine months were too long to wait and was trying to kick it's way out here and now. It was well that Legolas was out hunting with Aragorn, for I fear had either one of them approached me at that precise moment they would have met with a painful and untimely death. It was as I was struggling to open a window at the far end of one of the smaller halls of Mirkwood, hindered in no small measure by the gigantic lump that was my stomach, that I heard sniggering laughter from the other end of the hall. With a loud and very displeased sigh of annoyance I drew all the air possible into my lungs, thinking it to be Legolas and Aragorn returned early, and in high spirits no less! "Will you two quit laughing! I may not be an elf, but I can hear you just fine. If you would stop having a fit of the giggles at my expense I would like some help opening this damned window!" The laughter behind me stopped instantly, and I allowed myself a small, satisfied smirk as I heard the abashed silence that followed. My smirk morphed instantly as I heard the voices the laughter had belonged to, "We are sorry Vénea. We didn't mean to offend. It would be out pleasure to assist you in opening that 'damned window'." I recognised the voices of Elladan and Elrohir, and moving faster than I would have thought possible for a human eight months pregnant, crossed to hall to them in record time. They looked rather taken aback at this sudden flurry of movement from me and watched apprehensively for a moment, as if they were afraid I was going to come over and pull their pointed ears off for some reason. I could feel the tension ebb out of their bodies as I flung my arms around their necks and cried joyfully, "El! Ro! It's been so long! There's so much you have to see, I've had all plant pots, completely removed from the Palace, nasty useless things, and Legolas has been busy out in the woods; the spiders are all but gone!" I grinned at them happily and would have continued on, but for the hand clamped gently over my mouth. Elrohir held his hand there until he was sure I would not speak when he removed it, as his hand dropped back down to his side Elladan spoke up, nudging his twin with a meaningful side-ways glance at me, "It is good to know some things never change, eh brother?" I sent an evil glare at both of them. "Laugh if you will," I retorted, in mock superiority, "But remember it is the Princess of Mirkwood to whom you speak and I could have you removed from this Palace just as easily as any plant pot, perhaps more so." I narrowed my eyes at the twins, who shifted uncomfortably where they stood, "Don't think the guards, nor Legolas, have forgotten that trick you played the last time you were here." Elrohir winced slightly, but Elladan, grinned as memory finally dawned. "Oh yes! That was a good one though, was it not? The look on Legolas' face when he found those five swamp frogs in his bed was priceless!" I couldn't help it, I dissolved into laughter, yes, and even I had to admit it had been incredibly funny! "He didn't stop checking the bed every night for weeks, even after you'd left!" I managed to stammer out between fits of laughter. Elrohir threw his left arm over my shoulder and Elladan did the same with his right. "I believe…" started Elladan, "… we have much to discuss." Finished Elrohir. A wicked smile played on all three of our faces we disappeared into the garden, embarrassing tales of my husband springing into my mind by the bucket load.

The trees rustled slightly attempting to warn the mortal and two Elves that frolicked under their boughs. The two elves were momentarily distracted, but they had not the way with trees as the wood elves and they could not hear the whispered warning that the trees told of. Hidden in the shrubbery a she-elf watched the scene. She heard the warnings of the trees and knew what they were trying to do. Rob her of her prize. Well, they wouldn't succeed, she thought sweetly, an evil smile marring her beautiful features. That woman would never know what hit her…

Deep in the woods Legolas' sharp hearing picked up the distant noise of riders fast approaching. Reaching out swiftly he grasped the sleeve of the ranger next to him, and with a swift nod of his head motioned that they should take cover. The ranger complied silently, picking up moments later what had alerted his Elven companion. The drumming of hoof-beats was getting closer. With a wild snort two horses burst into the clearing and the two Elven riders on their backs dismounted with ease and grace. Aragorn gave a small cry of joy, it was his brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, he broke from his cover in the bushes and hastened into the opening to greet them, "My brothers! What brings you to Mirkwood?" Legolas appeared at his elbow moments later, and, ignoring their brother totally, Elladan and Elrohir turned to face the Elven Prince. "Legolas, Vénea is taken!" Elrohir gasped out, his eyes wild with fear and anger. "We were attacked near the Palace by a she-elf and she took Vénea, insisting that we find the Prince of Mirkwood and bring him or she would kill her where she stood." Elrohir looked down, unable to continue, so Elladan spoke up, "We would have tried to free her, but she held a blade so near her throat that we dared not." He looked down then also, fearing Legolas' gaze would reflect the shame and failure shown in his own. Legolas laid his hand briefly on the shoulders of the twins and spoke calmly, "My friends, you did all you could. I would rather you came to tell me of her capture than her death." As soon as the words were out of his mouth Legolas had remounted his horse and was steering it at a gallop back towards the Palace, Elladan and Elrohir soon on his tail. Aragorn was left behind, "Hey wait, you guys! I don't have a horse! Wait!" None of the three elves disappearing into the forest heeded his cry and, muttering some very creative curses in dwarvish under his breath Aragorn set off at a run for the Palace.

The room I had been pulled into was dark. Or at least, either it was dark or someone had pulled a bag over my head. I hoped very much that it was the latter as, from the smell that surrounded my nostrils, if I was purely in a dark room it would have had to have been a latrine of some kind, and an atrocious one at that. I wrinkled my nose in disgust and spoke aloud to my unseen attacker, "This is terrible. I had expected, if I was ever to be kidnapped, that my captor would have had at least a vague notion of style." This earned me a rather hard cuff on the upside of the head, which was as I had expected, but at least it proved one thing. A very small, very feminine hand had delivered that cuff. I spoke up once more, despite the ringing in my ears that lingered from the last time, "What has this Middle-Earth come to if women are now forced to kidnap others to see their demands met?" I cringed slightly, expecting another cuff and was surprised to find none seemed forthcoming. Straightening a little from my crouched position, I was hopeful that my comment had taken her so by surprise she had neglected to punish me. No such luck, the minute I eased out my aching spine (could morning sickness have returned at a more inopportune moment?) she delivered a crushing blow to my chest and I saw stars. As I lay winded on the ground I heard for the first time the voice of my assailant and, to my dismay, it was distinctly Elven and distinctly female. "You, human," she emphasised the word like the insult it was intended to be, "are in no position to make witty comments. Either the Princess of Mirkwood is brought for me to dispose of, or I shall kill you." I could almost hear the triumphant sneer in her voice. Great, I thought wearily with a surprising touch of humour: either way it doesn't look like I'm going to get out of this alive.

Legolas dismounted from his horse with speed spurred on by worry. Osellë had been right, he thought despondently, he had had far more trouble trying to keep his wife out of mischief than he had ever had with Aragorn. His features hardened into a stony mask, if anyone tried to harm his wife, they would fell the sharp edge of his sword. His features were still grim as he sprang nimbly up the steps and towards the place the attendants had seen Vénea dragged. He could only pray she wasn't in too far over her head this time.

I lay on the floor of the small room, gasping for breath. I was certain that it was a room now, as the bag had been removed some moments before so that I could see the blade she was about to press into my side. The pain came in blurring waves of nausea and I struggled not to give to the darkness that pulled relentlessly at the edges of my mind, she had not just stabbed me with blade as I had originally feared, no, this elf was not that direct. She had heated it slowly over a fire she had set burning in the room, forcing me to watch as the metal glowed first red then white. Bringing it up near my face so I could feel the blistering heat that rose from it, she had taken to small measure of delight in seeing me writhe as she pressed it flat against the vulnerable skin just above my hip. She repeated this many times, until I felt I was ready to give in to the bliss of oblivion. Only one thing kept me from slipping away. The distraught voice I could hear mirroring my own screams from just outside the wooden door that separated us, I would recognise that voice anywhere. For him, for Legolas, I fought the darkness' call as long as I was able. My tormentor moved away from me and my breathing came slightly easier as my raging terror dimmed minutely. Though my heart was in my throat, I could feel it pressing there every time I swallowed, I spoke around the lump, "Legolas! Please do not stay and hear this! Just leave and fetch the Princess." I spoke and knew full well that Legolas would understand my meaning. I wanted him to leave, go to our chamber, go anywhere, just not to stay and listen to me scream in all my mortal weakness. He responded, as I had already known he would, "No, Venea! I will not abandon you here to this fate! I shall fetch the Princess." I had expected the first part but the last sentence caught me off my guard. What did he mean 'fetch the Princess', I was the Princess! Surely this evil turn of events had not caused him to lose his mind? I was stopped from further wondering by a dark whisper in my ear, "A good rapport you seem to have with the Prince. I am glad I picked you. I wonder what his spouse will think when he sacrifices her life for yours. Are you perchance his bit on the side? Tell me…" she leaned close each word dripping with dark dread, "does the Prince of Mirkwood like it rough?" I squirmed away in revulsion from her words, "Back, you foul creature!" I screamed, "How dare you speak such to me? Know you not that I am-" I was cut off from saying the words that would surely have ended my life, by two figures bursting through the door. Aswen, her pointed ears hidden by her long black tresses, stole the words I had been about to utter, "I am the Princess of Mirkwood." I was momentarily taken aback, but my horror soon overcame my shock. This was what Legolas had meant by fetching the Princess! But, I could not allow Aswen to take such a risk for my sake! I opened my mouth to issue a denial, but the she-elf that had captured me cuffed me once more and, while I was reeling from the sharp blow, wedged a hefty scrap of material into my jaw. I spluttered in revulsion, but the material was firmly stuck, I was gagged. I could only watch wide-eyed with dread at the scene that was playing out before my eyes.

The she-elf approached Aswen slowly, appraising her. Taking in every detail of her fine gown and delicate crown, she nodded as if satisfied and took a sharp step forward, as if to catch Aswen by the wrists. Legolas intercepted this move. Placing himself swiftly between Aswen and the she-elf he brought his hands up in denial. "No! You must deliver the girl first." The she-elf seemed intoxicated by his closeness, and her next words were slurred and dreamy, "You are so beautiful, my Prince. What need do you have of two such wenches as lie before you now? Agree to marry me and you shall have a real woman!" Legolas shuddered with revulsion. This elf in front of him seemed to be no woman, virtue of features did not make for beauty and his hands shook at the prospect of actually having to touch this creature. But, to save his wife and her loyal friend… "Very well. I do not deny I have wished long for a real woman to join me. Set them loose and I will wed you as soon as is fit." Legolas' voice trembled slightly in horror and he stood next to the she-elf, his body leaning back as far away from her as was possible. The elf seemed enraptured by his words, "Soon…" she echoed, and her eyes fixed on his, although she failed to notice the disgust in their depths. " Give me a taste," she demanded, "A physical sign of your oath." She started forwards as if to kiss him, but he dodged back. "Patience. Only on our wedding night can I do such." His voice cracked as the lips came forward, halting only inches from his own, and his body shook for what he might still have to endure. She looked disappointed, but satisfied at his words and, still in that dreamlike state, she approached Vénea to make her stand and prepared to hand her over to the waiting Prince.

I could see the faint tremors that wracked Legolas' body and the revulsion he forced himself to hide. I strained desperately against my bonds and the gag that inhibited my speech. He should not have to endure this for me! I ceased my struggles as the she-elf approached me once more, her eyes dilated and dreamy, her mouth slightly agape. I was repulsed. How had I ever thought her beautiful? She seemed to me now more hideous than all the orcs I had fought in that last battlefield of Middle-Earth and a hundred times more evil. I spat at her feet as she stooped to raise me, and she halted momentarily to favour me with a hideous grin, "Sore loser are we, little human? The better woman has won and you can't handle that your Prince has abandoned you so readily or so happily?" Her words did not provoke a response from me; I knew them to be untruths. I had seen the revulsion in Legolas' eyes even as she seemed blind to it. Without a further word she finished untying me and thrust me into the waiting arms of Legolas and Aswen. I wanted nothing more than to collapse there and then into that embrace, to hide behind Legolas and never have to face the outside world again. I could feel my severely bruised courage cry out under all the pressure it was put under, but it held strong, and so, minimising the pain that showed on my face, I span to face my former captor. She stood tall and proud but a few feet away, confident of her victory and her ownership of the Prince's heart. It was almost laughable. How could someone be so totally wrong, and yet at the same time be so confident of being totally right? I was almost moved to pity, but not quite, after all she had tortured me. I shifted my position slightly, assuming the stance Legolas had taught me, not long after our marriage, that would allow for rapid movement in any direction at a moment's notice. I had a feeling I was going to need some very rapid movement if I was to out distance the response to the upcoming confrontation. Legolas began it. Stepping swiftly forward he placed himself between Aswen and I and that mad she-elf. "I would know the name of my future bride." Said Legolas softly, but I could detect the steel edge behind his words, the approaching she-elf, however, seemed oblivious to the impeding danger. "I am Mamë, and, as your future wife, to be referred to as Princess." Her voice was haughty and utterly confident, I grinned inwardly, little did she know how wrong she was. Legolas gave a slight incline of the head that she took to be an agreement, but I recognised it for the cover-up that it was: Legolas was bowing his head to hide his fury at her words.

It was almost as if I was watching the entire scene with a dream-like distance and, somewhere, that far off part of me thought with mild detachment, 'Legolas will leap to the right and aim for her left shoulder.' I observed with comfortable satisfaction as my husband did just that only a few seconds later. Driving with his shoulder to the right he drew his bow, that he had concealed in the folds of his cloak and notched an arrow in one fluid movement. Taking swift aim he let it fly lose where it struck true, piercing her left shoulder and effectively pinning her to the wall. His shoulders and chest heaving with barely contained fury he strode to where the she-elf, Mamë, was tearing at the arrow in her shoulder in vain. She let out a soft whimper as he came close, "But, you love me…" Legolas threw his head back and turned away, "I do not love you, Mamë, nor will I ever. You come into my home kidnap my wife and expect me to love you? You are worse than the orcs." He spat the last sentence out at her and his eyes blazed with a red-hot fury I have rarely seen in those contained depths. This was enough to break me from my detached state, though I wished moments later that it had not. As I made a move to step forward and gain the side of my husband, white-hot agony lanced through me and I gave a sharp cry, stumbling terribly, as the pain slammed into me. I crashed into the wall, the entire room spinning most uncomfortably and I let loose a very creative curse in dwarvish that, were words seen in colour, would have turned the air blue. I was not alone against that wall for long though, moments later Legolas was at my side and the anger I had seen seconds before was replaced by heart-breaking fear and worry. If it were possible I would say that seeing that was even worse and, had I had the breath to spare, I would have cried out with the sheer misery of it. As it was I allowed Legolas and Aswen to assist me from that chamber, their voices seeming to echo to my ears from a place far distant from Middle-Earth. They left Mamë there, in that dark room, giving strict instructions to the Palace guards that she was to have a trial before the council of Mirkwood and suffer punishment as they saw fit. Legolas would have nothing more to do with her and her final cry rang dismally in my ears as I was hurried out into the burning light of day, "Come back, Legolas! Please don't leave me here!" No one took any heed and within seconds I had been hustled far out of range of hearing her voice. Each step for me was agony and I stumbled often, forcing Legolas to compensate for my extra weight. He moved swiftly, every movement fluid and smooth, but they still seemed to jar against every aching bone and muscle and my battered body protested violently against the motion. I leaned heavily on Legolas drawing comfort from both his nearness and support and his calm words. My free hand was ensnared in the vice-like grip of Aswen, who had seized it some moments earlier, and I gazed dimly at our intertwined fingers, the first spikes of worry assailing me as I realised I could not feel her grip, though her knuckles were turning white with the pressure of it. I swallowed hard and turned towards Legolas, feeling very much like a small, frightened child and desperately needing his reassurance, "I can't feel my hand," I whispered dejectedly and I could feel my lower lip trembling without my permission. He turned his face towards me and his eyes shone deceptively bright with unshed tears, he pressed his free hand to the side of my face and spoke softly with a confidence in his words that betrayed the fear in his eyes, "That's ok, meleth-nin, that's ok. You'll be fine, we're taking you to a healer, you'll be fine." His voice did not tremble in the least but he gripped me tighter and pulled me closer as if somehow that would help. I just had time to wonder briefly whether he had said what he did to reassure me or to convince himself before we burst into a room that I recognised as the palace infirmary. Legolas and Aswen lowered me down with utmost care onto one of the many beds there, but even so this gentle movement made me wince. In an attempt to block out the pain and the worsening numbness that was spreading through my limbs I thought back to the last time I had visited this particular room. If memory served me the last time I was in the infirmary I was being treated for twisting my ankle after falling over a plant pot and not torture and its aftershock.

Legolas' heart felt like it was trying to pound its way out of his chest. His throat felt constricted and tight and his stomach was twisting and knotting and making him feel like he was about to throw up. His hands clenched and unclenched on the soft material of the bed as he watched the healers tending to his wife. Her face was pale and her eyes seemed far off and unfocused almost as if she was retreating away from the pain and fear, to somewhere safe inside herself. He wanted nothing more than to go up to her and talk to her, to bring her back and hold her close and vow never to let anything hurt her again. But something stopped him, some dark sense of déjà-vu that told him he'd said those words before. He'd promised a thousand times not to let anything hurt her and what had happened? He could not keep her from harm, he couldn't fight away all the pain and, the thought struck him like a physical blow, this was all his fault. If he wasn't a Prince, if he wasn't always getting himself into problems and scrapes then she would never have been hurt like this. He gasped as the sudden realisation of the pain he'd caused her washed over him: coming home injured after some mishap with Aragorn, the pain and fear in her eyes, people demanding to see him, angry voices, threats of death and torture, verbal abuse and more, instances of other torture, his own or hers, all that pain… his fault. His eyes went wide with shock as the realisation hit him like a slap in the face. He was putting her in danger; his very love would be the cause of her death. He stood in shock, he had to leave, get away from her, and make sure his love would never hurt her again. His mind and body numb with pain and shock he turned and began to walk slowly towards the door.

I saw Legolas looking at me, even through the haze of pain. I saw as emotions of pain and guilt warred behind his eyes and some sudden revelation hit him. He turned to leave my room. I cried out in sudden confusion, "Legolas, please!" I didn't even know what I was pleading with him about, I just didn't want to be left alone here, I was already scared and his abandoning me was far worse torture than I had already endured. I writhed weakly on the bed I had been placed upon, but my body would not obey my frantic commands, I couldn't rise, I couldn't stop him from leaving me! I cried out again in desperation, "Come back, Legolas! Please don't leave me here!" unconsciously mirroring the words of the she-elf Mamë as we left her in that dark room. My voice broke as I cried out and still he did not turn to face me. Fear and desperation fuelling my movements I threw the last of my strength into a desperate attempt at movement, the force of it rolling me off the bed. I landed heavily on my knees and gave a sharp moan at the pain that resounded through my body. I tried to tell myself that it didn't matter, and with one thought on my brain I tried frantically to rise, one word tearing itself from my lips, "Legolas!"

Legolas heard his wife call out to him for a third time, each sounding more frantic than the last. He could bear it no more, whirling on his heel he span to face her, he knew he needed to leave, but he couldn't. It would break his own heart even as he could hear the heartbreak in hers. He was ill prepared for what he saw next. Vénea was on the floor, he could see the sheets that tangled about her legs and surmised that she had rolled off the bed in a frantic attempt to reach him. Even as she lay, hopelessly tangled, pain etched onto every contour of her face she was trying desperately to rise, moaning his name softly as if she no longer had the strength to shout it. He was horrified. Using all of his Elven speed he flew to her side, and cradled her to him, desperate to comfort her and stop her from injuring herself further. As soon as she felt his touch she reacted, throwing herself at him, and fastening her arms tightly about his waist. She tightened her grip effectively pinning him in place as if she was scared that if she loosened her grip even a little he would leave again. It came dangerously close to breaking his heart. He pulled her further into his embrace and held her close, rocking gently and speaking soothingly into her ear. She kept her fierce grip on him even as she raised her head to speak, "Please…" she whispered her voice breaking with the weight of tears unshed, "don't leave me. I'm scared and I don't want to be alone." She looked imploringly into his eyes as if searching for reassurance that he would stay, her grip never loosening. He gave a heart-broken sob as he watched another solitary tear slip down her already tear-stained face, and pulled her even closer, trying to draw all of her pain into him and make her well again, "I will never leave you. I promise, I promise…" his own voice broke as he spoke, of course he could never leave her, how could he have been so foolish? It would kill them both. She seemed reassured by his voice, but still needed further confirmation of his words, "Where were you going?" she asked softly, her grip loosening minutely. "I asked you to stay and you didn't listen. I thought you were angry," her voice was soft and with all the innocent pleading of a small child, wanting to know why bad things happen to good people. Her pupils were dilated as she gazed into his eyes, making her look far younger than her twenty-six years. Legolas gave another soft sob, "I was wrong, I was very wrong," He implored her to believe him, his brilliant blue eyes silently pleading with her, "I love you, I do. I won't go, I didn't mean to hurt you. I never wanted this…" his own voice was cut off as pain rose violently in his stomach and in his heart and tears choked his words and blurred his vision. She released her grip immediately, reaching up to dry his tears with a shaking hand. "Hush, now," she whispered softly, the roles reversed, "It's ok. I understand. Don't cry, please, I love you too." She used the edge of her bloodstained sleeve to wipe tenderly at his eyes, still speaking softly to calm him. "It's all right, don't be sad, it's all alright now." She spoke to him softly, her words gradually penetrating the mind-numbing guilt that had paralysed him. She had managed to raise herself up onto her elbows, and was gazing levelly into his eyes, talking him out of his daze. Eventually he responded and shaking his head slightly at his own weakness, he rocked back on his heels, and pulled her gently to her feet. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly even then. She gave no verbal response, just raised her hand to brush it lightly against his cheek, her mouth forming a small gentle smile, "I know," she whispered. "Excuse me, but we have more pressing matters to attend to." Came a booming voice to the couple's right and they both turned to face it, surprised by the sound cutting into their private world. The countenance of the healer who had spoken was sombre as she spoke, "Her waters have broken."

The next three hours were the worst of my life. If I thought the pregnancy was bad, this was at least ten thousand times worse. My world blurred into one unending tunnel of pain and shouting voices, sometimes giving encouragement, sometimes commands. Through it all I never let go of the warm, strong hand that was firmly in my grip. Legolas never stirred from my side and I could hear him whispering to me in the brief moments where I could concentrate on his words, "Please Vénea, stay with me, meleth-nin. I cannot loose you." I had very little strength left to respond with, so I just squeezed his hand extra tightly and met his anxious gaze with my own. It seemed like a lifetime before the midwife that was tending me gave a cry of triumph, "There it is! Your baby is out!" I gave one huge sigh of relief and turned my head towards my husband whose expression matched my own. Minutes later I was handed a soft blanketed bundle, a mixture of curiosity and fear danced in my stomach as I peeled back an edge to gaze upon the face of my child. The most beautiful baby I had ever seen gazed back at me, tiny little pointed ears just visible on the soft material and a little hand reached out towards my face. I gave a soft gasp and extended my own hand towards the child. It was quickly snatched and held in a firm little grip and the baby chuckled softly up at me. My heart was lost. I looked up at Legolas who was peering curiously over my arm for a glimpse of our child and held the precious bundle out to him, though I was loathe to let it go. He took it and held it close whispering softly in Elvish to the child. The midwife approached us, "You have a healthy baby boy," she announced and I smiled hugely. Legolas turned towards me, joy lighting up all of his features and giving him an almost otherworldly beauty. He moved to sit on the side of my bed and passed the baby back to me, his features still wildly happy, his slender hand finding and tightly gripping my own. "What will you name him, meleth-nin?" he questioned softly and I gazed up at him in wonder, "Should we not both decide?" I asked. He shook his head slightly, "I want nothing more than to have my wife in my arms and our boy between us, and that I already have. The naming is for you." I smiled at him gratefully before turning my attention to our son. I gazed long into the blue eyes and cherubic features, a whole host of names playing on my tongue, but only one seemed to fit. "Keldarion," I announced, and Legolas smiled at me happily. "It fits," he said softly, bending to kiss me on the lips. "Keldarion it shall be." I was gazing happily at my husband and son, pondering on just how quickly things can go from being very bad to being very good, when the situation changed again. I felt a violent twinge of pain from my stomach and my face contorted in agony. Hurriedly I placed the babe in the arms of his father as the convulsions rocked me again. "Apparently you have a sibling, little one," I ground out between my gritted teeth. Legolas started forward in shock. "I am having contractions," I explained slowly, fighting waves of nausea, "Good things never come in ones," I managed to make the comment before the contractions returned with a vengeance and coherent speech passed behind possibility or desire.

This pain was worse than any I had endured or even imagined before. There was no let up in its intensity and I was in too much pain even to cry out with the torment of it. The healers hovered nearby, and I could hear their anxious whispering, even though they strove to keep their voices low, "She will not survive the night," one whispered, her voice tinged with sorrow. "We will lose either her or the baby, perhaps both, if we do not act now." Another spoke up, her voice firm with authority, although her words opened a chasm of heart-pounding dread in the pit of my stomach. "A choice must be made: the mother or the child. Time is running out," They were speaking among themselves, but Legolas heard their words and I saw him bow his head, unimaginable pain etched onto every contour of his face. The contractions lessened for a moment to more bearable proportions and I summoned the last of my strength to speak, "Meleth-nin," I whispered hoarsely, my voice choked. He heard my words and span at once to face me, his eyes great wells of sorrow. "Save the child," I told him, knowing that my request would mean my own death. He shook his head, horror growing on his face, "No…" he whispered, his voice soft with heartbreak, "You cannot ask me to do this. I love you, I cannot let you die." I shook my head, even that slight motion causing an ache of tiredness to descend on my already weary limbs. I knew I was failing. "I am already dead." I said brutally, and he flinched visibly at my words, shaking his head frantically in denial and opening his mouth to contradict me, I cut him off before he could speak. "If you truly love me grant me this. Save our child," my voice was husky from being unused, but it held strong, and I was proud of the fact that it did not tremble. He sat there shaking, his mouth opening and closing silently, tears pouring freely down his face. There was not much strength left to me, but I forced myself to action. I could not leave him like this. Moving my right arm out from under me, I extended it towards him, loosely catching his shoulder in my grip. He needed no force to follow my gentle guidance and it was with ease that I pulled him to rest against my shoulder. "I love you," I whispered, my voice fading away to almost nothing. He raised his head to press his forehead against mine and spoke with determination, "I love you too," he held onto me tightly, as if he could keep me anchored to this world by sheer force of his will. I knew it would not be possible, I could not hold on for much longer and there was still so much that I wanted to say, that would never now be said. I stifled the urge to sob for what I would now never do or see, never grow old, never see my children play or laugh. It was all too much and I couldn't stifle the low whine that wrenched itself from my throat. "I don't want to go," I whispered, barely audible even to my own ears, "So don't," Legolas replied, his desperation growing, "Don't go! Don't heed the summons to Mandos! Don't leave me here alone!" I swallowed hard, his words and the desolation behind them burning a jagged hole in my heart. "You will never lose me, remember?" I smiled at him sadly through a veil of my own tears. "I'm in here." I whispered pressing my hand against his heart. He snatched my hands up in his and held onto them, tears slipping unnoticed down his cheeks. I knew I was dying and now so did he. I drew in a deep breath and pressed him against my chest drawing another ragged breath, I began to sing, "Lay down, your sweet and weary head. Night is falling, you have come to journey's end." As I sang my voice gradually began to fade and my vision to dim. I could feel Legolas' sobs shaking against my chest, but the sensation was beginning to feel further and further away. It was with this dimming vision that I beheld Osellë burst through the door and hasten to my bedside. I managed a weak smile, but my song did not falter. She was here. That was a turn of events I did not expect, though it gladdened my heart much to see her. My attention was focused solely on my weak and fading notes so completely by now that I could form no words to say my final goodbye to either of them, but I was glad they were here, at the end of all things. I tried hard not to let the melody falter, but it was getting harder and harder to go on, my voice was by now a mere thread of itself and even that was waning. My voice cracked and stopped and I managed to summon the composure to give my last command, "Hope," I croaked out, praying that the two of them would understand. Slowly I took one of Legolas' hands that clung tightly onto mine, and joined it with the hand of Osellë, hoping they would understand what I meant. They would need to comfort each other, after my passing, after all I would not be there to help them. I gave one last weak smile, my final parting gift, and my eyes drifted shut. I could feel and hear the darkness rushing around me like the beat of a thousand wings, echoing into the night. Far off voices called my name, but I could not reply, though I strained desperately to. There was a strong urge tugging at me and I could not disobey. I struggled against its force, straining to return to the calling voices that were growing ever more distant to my ears, but it dragged me ever nearer to the dark that was closing in on all sides. I gave a final sigh, I was defeated, I had not the strength to struggle any longer and my mortal body was spent. I gave a final scream, one name as a last resort to keep the dark tide at bay as the darkness rushed at me, but it was no good and silence claimed me. Silencing what I would never speak. I was lost to the night and the beating of the wings receded into the gloom.

And all will turn to silver glass

A light on the water

All souls pass

Hope fades

Into the world of night

Through shadows falling

Out of memory and time

Don't say

We have come now to the end

White shores are calling

You and I will meet again.

Annie Lennox – Into the West

Vénea gave one last sad smile, before her eyes closed to the outside world for the last time. Legolas' control broke and, wrenching both hands loose, he fell onto his knees beside her cradling her head in his hands. "No, no, no…" he muttered, shaking his head and rocking slightly where he was crouched. His head fell forward and his eyes closed, almost as if he was seeking to follow where his wife already trod. He muttered things to low for even the near-by elves to hear, and for a short time he was silent. Then a cry was ripped from him with all the force of a hurricane, a blast that nearly deafened everyone who heard it with the aching call of loss, despair and heartbreak, "VENEA!" his wife gave no response, lying still as death on the bed. He bowed his head over her still body, his tears a flood, soaking the sheets on which her pale hand lay. The silence of the room was thick and sorrow and despair lay heavily upon it like a heavy coat of dust, suffocating and toxic. One final noise disturbed the silence, like a final sigh, almost a scream, of breath, "Legolas…" the voice was so faint many thought it later to have been just a dream. The woman on the bed let out a long breath, like she had just been released from a very hard life. She did not breathe in again. Legolas stared down at the bed in silence, his mouth working silently, but no sound escaped the barrier that seemed to have formed there. His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed soundlessly to the floor. The room was covered in a shroud of silence and not a sound disturbed the two pale, unmoving figures that lay, as if discarded, within it. The rain began to beat slowly on the roof, as if the very Gods were crying on that mournful day. Pit pat, pit pat, nothing moved and the rain only got heavier.