Finally decided that this story is disgusting, and went back and did a rewrite. I tried to make more of a marked difference in Legolas' grammar and speech and Lizzie's. I hope it shows.

I still haven't changed the language, and probably won't until I really get some time on my hands and a whole bunch of motivation to do so, but I clarified my plotlines and improved my writing. You probably won't have to reread, but you might want to... and in chapter 5, the small, round brown stone- remember it? -was given a better part- and that sounded weird, so whatever...

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I still find it amusing that some people put me on their author alerts and favorites lists, and never leave a review. Yes, that was a hint.

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I removed my song lyrics. A friend warned me about that.

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Chapter 6: Powers Unsheathed

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When Elizabette awoke the next morning, she felt refreshed. Part of it had been the sleep, she reasoned. But there was something else- talking to the king had helped also.

Elizabette felt a power rise inside her. On an impulse, though she felt that she had long planned it, she fastened the necklace of Eärendil around her neck.

At first, she felt no different. Then a pure white power surged into her, filling up the spaces in her soul that had long been waiting for this moment.

She felt aware of the things that she could do. Her power made her great, and she could do much.

Elizabette unclasped the necklace and folded it into her hand. The power had gone but the awareness had not.

An idea came into her head. She considered it carefully, then concentrated on one name,

Silrocca! She shouted it into her mind.

Yes? came an answer. The voice was much like Súláríl's, and yet unlike. It held more power, more wisdom of the passing years.

Is that you, Silrocca?

Yes. How is it that you can speak to me in this manner, Elizabette?

I do not know. I put the Star of Eärendil on for the first time, and I saw that I could.

What do you wish from me?

Is he listening right now?

I have sealed my mind against him.

Elizabette sighed. Is it rude for me to contact you in this way?

No. But it is unusual. Legolas is the only one who has ever spoken to me in this way before.

Is he angry with me?

No.

Does he understand why I became angry?

Partly. He understands your reason for not wishing the king to know about the trunk. But he only somewhat understands your reason for anger yesterday morning.

Do you understand? asked Elizabette desperately.

Yes.

How?

Someday you will know.

Elizabette paused, perplexed. Silrocca spoke again.

Legolas has had no terrible happenings in his life like those that you hold in your mind. Yet he too has a sorrow in his past.

Silrocca paused before continuing, The Queen, his mother, died giving birth to him. Legolas never knew her, so he does not miss her as he might have, as you miss your own family. But he does miss having a mother, as anyone might.

Know that neither the King Thranduil nor Legolas ever speak of her. Know also the reason that I tell this to you- it will help you understand his reactions.

Elizabette pondered for a moment. Does Legolas have no siblings?

None. He is the crown prince and Thranduil's sole heir.

Do you think that I should forgive him?

Forgive him? For not understanding? Yes. But do not forgive him yet for your misunderstanding yesterday. You will forgive him in time, when he comes to understand. For now, forget.

That is what Súláríl suggested.

Yes.

Thank you, replied Elizabette gratefully, as she withdrew from the connection. She was unsure whether Silrocca would tell Legolas that they had communicated.

Elizabette slipped the necklace into the pocket of the sky-blue silk dress that she wore. Already she had become accustomed to wearing dresses. She relished the soft luxurious rustle of silk and enjoyed the feel of velvet against her skin.

Legolas did not appear and she walked to the dining hall alone. The king sat at the high table. She curtsied and sat in the chair that he indicated.

Legolas did not come. Elizabette surveyed the dining hall. She was puzzled- Silrocca had told her that Thranduil and Legolas were the only royalty, and that there were no females. But... Elizabette frowned, thinking hard. There were hardly any female elves at all. Elizabette had seen the maid that straightened her bedchamber, and she had glimpsed one other female elf, but otherwise she had seen few. As a matter of fact, she had seen few elves at all.

After a moment she decided to ask. "Why are there so few elves?"

The king sighed. "Many have passed over the sea to Valinor. The few that remain are careful and wary because of the disease. Most of our elf- women are in the house where the diseased wait for death. We call it Manonaicë, Place of Pain."

Elizabette shivered at the words. "I would like to go to this house," she said.

The king was about to reply when the door to the dining hall opened and Legolas stalked in. He threw himself into a chair and took some food.

The king's eyebrows flicked up. "You are late, onya," he observed. "What is amiss?"

Legolas glared at Elizabette. "My horse, Silrocca, told me that you spoke to her!"

Elizabette frowned. "I did."

"My horse! Why do you not talk to your own and leave mine alone? She was loath to tell me at first. When before has Silrocca kept things from me? This is all because of you!"

Elizabette was surprised at the elf's wrath. "What is troubling you?"

"What is troubling me? How is it that you can talk to my horse?"

"The Star of Eärendil," Elizabette replied, trying to keep her own anger from rising. She drew it from her pocket.

Legolas stared furiously and turned away. After a moment, Elizabette asked, "What is the problem? I wanted to ask her a question!"

"Why do you not ask Súláríl? Leave Silrocca alone!"

"I will, and you too!" Elizabette flared, and hurried from the room.

Legolas took a bite of his breakfast.

"Onya, what is the matter?" asked King Thranduil.

"Ai, Atar, do you not understand? She was talking to Silrocca through mind- communication!"

"It is unusual," responded Thranduil, "but I fail to see how it is bad. She told you herself that she wished to ask a question of Silrocca."

"Silrocca is my horse! Why does she not ask Súláríl?"

"Silrocca is older and more experienced. She is also your horse, as you mentioned."

"What about it?"

"She has been here long and knows you well. She may have been able to tell Elizabette something useful."

"She would not say what they spoke of."

The king sighed. "Onya, I am older than you and have more wisdom. Let this go; forgive her. She had a reason, I am certain."

"Yes, Atar," replied Legolas sullenly.

The king laughed softly. "Legolas, you have not spoken to me in that tone since you were an elfling."

Legolas did not smile. His anger was fading and he was almost beginning to regret his outburst. He was able to release the anger but a small chafing hurt remained.

---

Elizabette arrived hurriedly at Súláríl's stall. He had been listening to her thoughts and quite understood what had occurred.

My mother wishes for you to contact her, he said into her thoughts.

Why?

She asks that you contact her, Súláríl repeated.

Sighing, Elizabette collected her thoughts. Silrocca?

Yes. Súláríl asked you to contact me.

Yes. Why?

Silrocca's voice dropped slightly. I am sorry about what has occurred. At first I had decided not to tell Legolas, but he knows me too well and recognized that I was hiding something.

So I told him. His anger surprised me, and I believe that something else troubles him. Know that he is also angry at me.

I did not mean to cause so much trouble, apologized Elizabette, stricken.

He will come around.

Did you tell him what I asked you?

No. I will not.

Thank you.

Súláríl will tell you if I wish to speak with you again.

I was planning to visit the diseased elves, Elizabette told Silrocca. Do you think that I should?

Yes. Ask the king; he will have someone show you the way.

I will. Elizabette withdrew from the connection.

She patted Súláríl's neck, playing with his golden brown mane.

You will visit Manonaicë? he asked in her thoughts.

Yes. The time has come.

Elizabette left after a time. She went to the throne room, where the king sat. Legolas sat on a chair beside the throne.

Elizabette ignored him. She curtsied to the king. "My Lord, I wish to go to the house Manonaicë."

"Yes. I will ask someone to show you the way." His eyes slid over to his son. "Legolas, go ask Duinral to come to me."

"Yes, Atar." Legolas hurried out of the room.

He did not return but Duinral came. The king asked him to lead Elizabette to the house.

"Yes, My Lord," he replied respectfully.

When they arrived at Manonaicë, Elizabette immediately sensed pain and watchfulness in the atmosphere.

Duinral showed her to the first room then left as a female elf appeared.

She curtsied. "My name is Mirwen," she told Elizabette with a sad smile, who curtsied and greeted her in return.

Mirwen motioned to the bed. "He has been here for a week. The king sent us word that you have healing powers. Can you help him?"

"I do not know," replied Elizabette absently. She fingered her necklace. "I shall try." She turned to the elf. His pale skin was waxy and his hair was damp with sweat. He opened his eyes weakly. With a flash of pain, Elizabette remembered her last sight of her mother before her death. Her throat constricted and for a moment she could not breathe. Then a shiver ran through her thin body and she closed her eyes, fighting panic.

Reaching into her pocket, Elizabette touched the Star of Eärendil. The pain and panic subsided as the power replaced them.

Power given... The words seemed to come from afar. This star had been given to her by her grandmother, through her uncle. The power was hers.

Elizabette stepped over to the bed. She pushed back the panic that started to rise and slipped the necklace out of her pocket. Suddenly certain and calm, she fastened it around her neck and relaxed her mind, allowing herself to feel the power. She gathered it, much as she had when fighting Matron, and twisted it tightly into a knot. Laying a hand on the elf's fevered forehead, she released a little of the power. She waited a long while, feeling her strength gradually drain as she impressed the power with her will. Finally the elf's breathing became easy, and his glazed eyes became clear. The waxiness vanished from his skin, and Elizabette sighed and staggered back.

He smiled slightly and thanked her.

Still surprised at what she had done, Elizabette smiled in return and stepped away. The elf was still weak, but the clutch of the disease had been broken and he would live.

Elizabette leaned against the wall, releasing the power.

I must not allow my emotions to overcome me again, she thought, irritated with herself. A memory of the panic arose in her mind but she pushed it back into the locked chamber of her mind, closing the door securely.

Closing it. But not locking it. Elizabette knew that someday she would have to acknowledge her memories. Someday. They caused her much pain at times, on those dark nights when all was black. Then they crept out into the conscious part of her mind and tortured her.

"Are you all right, My Lady?" Mirwen had come over.

Elizabette slowly opened her eyes. "Yes," she said softly. "Yes, I am fine. Who else is ill?"

Mirwen led her to the other rooms, one by one. Elizabette gathered the power each time, releasing a tiny curl of it through her hand.

When she had broken the disease in everyone and they all slept easily, Elizabette at last allowed herself to sink into a chair.

All of the elves had thanked her. Yet Elizabette felt that the thanks should not go to her. They should go to all of her family- all down the line, back to Melian the Maia.

"Are you all right?" Mirwen asked again.

"Yes." And indeed she was. This was what she had come into Middle- Earth to do. It was her purpose.

Yet she was not finished. The disease was still there. It would return. Elizabette had to find a way to stop it for once and for all.

After taking her leave, she returned to the throne room. The king seemed to have been waiting for her. She told him all that had occurred, save only the panicked memories that had filled her.

---

Legolas sat in Silrocca's stall. She spoke softly into his mind,

I should not have told you, cundunya.

Legolas stood and rubbed her neck. I suppose that I should not have gotten so angry.

If I am correct, something else troubles you.

You are. The elf said nothing for a long moment. Then he continued softly, I know not exactly what it may be. Partly it is a shadow that grows in my mind. But there is also another thing. Can you tell me what it is?

No, cundunya. You have locked it into your mind.

Are you certain?

Yes. But the shadow is from the disease. You fear that it may come to you and your father. Also you know that something evil causes it, and it must be stopped.

The elf smiled in spite of himself. You are correct.

Then know this: Elizabette has healed some of your people of this disease.

What? How? How do you know this?

Silrocca's voice was calm. In answer to the latter... Súláríl told me. The necklace of Eärendil gave her the power that she needed.

I thought that she would not do it, said Legolas. Did she not become angry because that is what we wished for her to do?

Cundunya, she did not do this for you. She did it for her own family, and for her distant ancestor, Melian the Maia.

For her family? What do you mean?

That, cundunya, you must discover for yourself. I will not betray her.

Legolas' voice was angry in Silrocca's mind. This is her doing! Why did she force you to keep things from me?

Silrocca remained composed as usual. This is my own doing, cundunya. As I said before, you will have to learn for yourself.

Why did she trust you? Why not another elf? Why not me?

Has she a reason to trust you?

Legolas leaned against her silver neck and did not reply.

---

Legolas was late again. Elizabette and King Thranduil sat in the dining hall. Neither spoke much. Elizabette was concentrating on keeping her thoughts contained and staying the panic whenever it rose.

When Legolas arrived, she tensed immediately. He took his seat without looking at her. She finished quickly and left.

When she had gone, the king sighed heavily and said to Legolas,

"Onya, can you not tell me the reason of your anger?"

Legolas replied, "Atar, I cannot tell you because I do not know myself. I was angry only partly because of Elizabette's communication with Silrocca. A shadow haunts me, growing longer with each passing day." He paused for a moment. "And yet, Atar, I cannot tell you the reason of Elizabette's anger at me for it would be another betrayal of her trust." He sighed.

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Thanks for reviewing: BlahBLANKo-o; (A new reviewer! Thank you.) Inwe (Another new reviewer. Thanks!), shannon, Mystical Full Moon Maiden, BellaRu (I try:), Eleniel of the Stars, (yeah, it's a mary-sue, but hey... I'm glad you like it anyway), IwishChan, and Navaer Lalaith (Thanks for your offer to translate. I'm thinking about it... but I'm thinking right now that I'll change all the Quenya when I do my (eventual) rewrite of the entire story. I suppose I should explain: I have problems writing stories in chapters and posting them, then writing more chapters... I don't even know why :) but I guess it's because I'm always going back and changing things and it's a hassle to repost each chapter. So far I think I've replaced each of the five chapters, except maybe 5, at least twice. I have an unfortunate tendency toward laziness.

I wrote the story in seventh grade, but as was my habit then, I didn't really have a plot in mind until maybe three chapters in... so consequently I hate the beginning and some of the rest of it too... it was mainly my experiment story. Did I mention that I'm a perfectionist at the most inconvenient times? It's paradoxical that I can post this and not care that it's not perfect... but whatever.

I know it badly needs rewriting... but right now I'm working on a bunch of things and don't really want to.

Right now I'm just pretty much posting the chapters as they are, with a few edits and changes, but redoing the story will be a major job, I think. I actually have it written until chapter... 26? I think. And after that, I got writer's block, and dropped the story in the farthest corner of one of my files. So eventually I'll rewrite it... but not now. So thanks for the offer.

As for my 'common tongue' theory, I think I will try to put some more effort into it. It was interesting that I thought of it when I just needed an excuse to be lazy...)

Thanks for reading, and please review.