Chapter 7: Dark Battles
Several days passed. Legolas and Elizabette avoided each other, angry words hanging like a cloud between them. Elizabette went each day to visit Manonaicë and the ill elves that stayed there. Their conditions improved with every passing day.
But another problem had arisen. More elves fell ill and at a greater rate. It took all of Elizabette's strength to heal them and she grew weaker.
The healing was not the largest problem. Her memories, awoken by the first sight of the elves with the disease, haunted her. They tore at her delicate spirit and stole her sleep. She ate less and less and spoke little.
The king knew that if Elizabette fell ill, all would be lost. Her powers lessened as she grew weaker each day.
One evening, he said as they finished dinner, "I would speak with the two of you this night in my study." Legolas nodded silently. Elizabette did not move.
The king watched her with worried eyes. When she had first come to Middle- Earth, her laugh and cheer had helped everyone. Though she had been overly thin at first, the generous meals at the palace had improved her appearance to no end. But now she ate little and she became thinner once again. Her face was shadowed from lack of sleep and she seemed constantly weary.
Elizabette curtsied as she entered the study. "My Lord," she said.
Legolas followed her. He bowed respectfully and said, "Atarinya." (My father.)
The king motioned them to chairs near his desk. Elizabette wrestled the memories back into the locked chamber, trying to concentrate.
She felt quite ashamed as the king spoke to both her and Legolas.
"Is there not enough confusion and discord already without the two of you arguing? Are not people ill? Do you care not? Remember, Legolas, that as the prince, you set an example for the rest of our people. Imagine what our lands would be like if everyone argued. Are we not close enough to that? Think before you answer, both of you."
Elizabette bowed her head. She knew better than anyone how bad the disease was. She stood and curtsied. "I apologize, My Lord."
Legolas frowned slightly but also rose and bowed. "I apologize also."
The king looked pleased. "Now you will apologize to each other."
Elizabette curtsied to Legolas, repeating the statement. She did not meet his blue eyes.
Legolas bowed to her, echoing her words.
"You may go," said Thranduil. "Thank you."
Legolas went to his chambers but Elizabette went to Súláríl's stall. The day spent with the sick brought out more painful memories, and as she became weaker they could overpower her even in daylight.
The previous night had been the worst. She had not slept for several days, and the memories had completely overpowered her. She had sat in agony for hours, awaiting the cold dawn.
Súláríl could not help her when she was far from him, but he could help her drive some of the memories away when she was near him.
As the night darkened, Elizabette lit her lantern and leaned back against Súláríl's side. He lay quietly on the fern leaves, resting.
Against her will, Elizabette's thoughts turned to her first view of the sick elves. Weak and feverish, barely controlling their own minds... Just like her mother, on the last night before her death...
A tear rolled down her cheek and she bowed her head.
---
Legolas sat by his window, staring out into the dark trees.
Mirkwood it is indeed... he thought. How my heart longs for the sea and the blessed lands beyond... Yet I will not leave Aragorn before his death... Nor can I leave the elves who are afflicted with the disease...
Idly he watched a small light from the stables. Then, as his pondering thoughts faded, he wondered at the light.
Curious, Legolas opened his window and lightly dropped to the ground below. A guard glanced over but most were familiar with the elf's method of exiting the palace hurriedly.
Legolas slipped over to the darkened stables and entered quietly. He patted Silrocca as he passed her stall, but he felt that he already knew where the light came from.
He was correct. Súláríl lay on the ground, Elizabette beside him. She held her head in her hands, gold- tinted curly hair slipping over her face.
"Elizabette? What ails you?" The elf dropped to his knees beside her.
She shook her head mutely. Súláríl lifted his head and looked at Legolas for a moment, then dropped it to the ground again. Elizabette shivered suddenly.
"Elizabette?" he asked again.
Silrocca spoke into his head, Legolas, Elizabette fights a battle in her mind. You must help her draw outside of her thoughts and relax.
How do you know this?
Súláríl told me. You must help her. Every night she fights the memories. They were reawoken when she once again came in contact with the disease.
How can I help her? Legolas asked.
That I cannot tell you. You alone can help her.
"Elizabette? Can you not hear me?"
Elizabette nodded slightly. She lifted her face and Legolas saw that tears streamed down.
"What is wrong?"
Elizabette dropped her head and did not respond.
"Elizabette. Can you not hear me?" he asked again.
Elizabette shivered again but said nothing.
In desperation, Legolas said, "Elénwen, poltyë hlar nin? Lasta nin!" (Elizabette, can you hear me? Listen to me!)
Slowly Elizabette lifted her head. The pain in her eyes was obscured with liquid sadness, forming a shimmering pearly wall that Legolas could not reach through to help her.
"Elizabette, what is wrong?"
Elizabette only shook her head, tears sliding down her face. Legolas moved closer to her. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he repeated the question.
"Everything..." she whispered so softly that he could barely hear.
"Can you tell me?"
"You would not understand..." She dropped her head again, gray eyes swimming with tears.
"Elizabette," said Legolas. "Something haunts you. Can you not tell me what?"
Elizabette slowly looked up. It seemed that it took her a great effort. Her soft curls slid off of her face as she looked up at the elf. She searched his blue eyes.
Seeming to decide, she whispered, "My memories haunt me... Ever since I saw the elf... with the disease. Each night I battle them... and as I become weaker, they become stronger."
"Why do you not eat?"
"I have not been myself... Sometimes I feel the present, sometimes I am wrapped in the past."
Elizabette trembled again and Legolas squeezed her shoulders.
"I am myself now... You have helped me."
"Why are you in the stables?"
"My bedchamber was too dark and empty. I desired company. Where else could I have gone?"
"Can Súláríl help you drive away these memories?" asked Legolas.
"He tried. We held them off for a while, but in the end, they prevailed, as they always do and will. Someday, I fear, I will be overpowered and will never return to the present."
"What haunts you?"
Again she searched his eyes. Seeming to find something there, she whispered, "Seeing the elves with the disease brought back painful memories..." She paused for so long that Legolas thought that she would not continue. "My mother... on her deathbed... She looked just like they do. Her forehead was feverish, and her golden hair damp. Her skin was pale and wasted, and her eyes..." She caught her breath and a single tear slid down her face. "Her last words to me were, 'Elizabette, I leave this world. Farewell, my daughter.' " She paused, more tears slipping down her face. "That was the last time that I saw her. My uncle brought me away and I did not go to her funeral."
"What is a funeral?" he could not help but ask.
"A gathering where people mourn for a death." After a moment, she continued, "My father had already died... oh..." She did not continue. Legolas squeezed her shoulders again and she leaned against him.
"Elizabette," he said softly a moment later, "My father wishes to send a messenger to Lord Elrond. I think that he could help you. Will you allow us to send a message to him?"
Elizabette looked up slowly. "As you wish," she said.
"Will you remain here the whole night?" Legolas asked later.
"I have no desire to return," she replied. "But I cannot sleep. When I am in less control of my mind, my memories take over with more ease."
"Do you want me to stay?"
"No. You need your sleep."
He left after a time. He felt somewhat guilty doing so, but he thought that he could not help her much anyway.
He was wrong. As soon as he left his warm presence dissipated into the darkness of the night, and Elizabette felt cold and lonely.
Súláríl slept and the stable was silent. Her lone candle was the only light, sometimes flickering so much in the draft that she thought it would go out, leaving her immersed in darkness within and without.
Hour after hour she sat, waiting for dawn. As the sun slipped over the edge of the horizon, she stood and walked silently back to her bedchamber.
She arrived in the dining hall a few minutes after Legolas and the king. She took a seat, walking slowly so as not to cause herself dizziness.
Legolas noticed that the shadows on her face were more pronounced than ever. He urged her to eat but she took little.
Legolas went to speak with his father. Thranduil was pleased that Elizabette had agreed to allow them to send the message. He told Legolas that he would send someone off at once.
When Legolas went to Elizabette's bedroom, she sat in her chair, looking out of the window. She looked all right and so he left her.
---
Elizabette stared out into the dark forest. Legolas had helped her more than he knew. Even after he had left the stables, she had had more strength to resist. Now she was weary but she could not sleep.
Two more elves had fallen ill but she had not the strength to go to them.
---
Legolas and Silrocca went on a short ride. The elf told her everything that had occurred.
As they made their way back, Silrocca said urgently, Legolas, Elizabette needs you. Súláríl sends word to me. Go to her.
Why?
I know only that it is urgent.
Legolas hurried to Elizabette's bedroom. She lay on her bed, asleep. At first Legolas was surprised that she would allow herself to sleep, but he thought that she had probably fallen asleep against her will.
Suddenly a little cry escaped her lips and she shivered. Legolas stood uncertainly at the door.
Hesitantly, he stepped inside, asking Silrocca, What must I do?
Wake her.
He stepped over to Elizabette's bed.
Hurry. Silrocca's voice echoed in his mind.
He gently shook Elizabette's shoulder. She stirred slightly but did not awaken.
"Elizabette." He shook her again, adding, "Cuiva." (Awaken.)
She stirred again and opened her eyes. "Legolas?"
"Are you all right?"
"No." She lifted a hand and rubbed her eyes. "I was weary and fell asleep against my will."
"How long has it been since you last slept?"
Elizabette closed her gray eyes. "Four days, I think."
"Can you not sleep?"
"I can for a time. Then I lose my guard."
"Can you sleep if I stay here?"
"Perhaps. As you entered the room the pain lessened."
"I will stay. Go to sleep."
"Thank you..." Her voice trailed off as she dropped her head. Legolas took a chair near the bed.
At one point, she stirred and whispered something so softly that the elf could not hear it. He laid a hand on her forehead, half expecting to feel the fever of the disease. But Elizabette's forehead was cool, and she lay quietly, golden- brown hair spread out on her pillow.
She awoke just before noon. Legolas heard her breathing pause as she awoke. He turned from the window. Elizabette's clear gray eyes were open and no longer filled with pain or tears.
Her lips curved into a smile. "Thank you. I feel much better."
"Are you rested?"
"Fairly. I am stronger now."
Legolas still wondered what had afflicted her.
Elizabette sensed his unvoiced question. "Someday you will understand."
"What do you mean?"
"I cannot tell you, for it is not clear to me."
Legolas shrugged. "You had better eat something. It is almost midday."
He glanced around the bedchamber. The sword lay on the table. "What did my father say about your sword?" he asked.
Elizabette thought back. "He wondered how it could have fit into the trunk... He said that it was ancient... He spent a time looking for a name on the hilt, but I do not think that the found anything."
The elf nodded. "Lord Elrond may know where it came from. My father sent a messenger this morning."
They walked together to the dining hall. As they entered, King Thranduil looked up. He noted at once that Elizabette did not look so weary as she had that morning.
Elizabette ate enough at that meal. She did indeed feel stronger as she finished.
Elizabette left the table before either Legolas or the king. When Legolas went to her room later, he found her sitting on her bed, studying the photograph, though without pain or sorrow.
She glanced up as he entered. "These are my parents," she told him, pointing them out. "My aunt Allison and my uncle Thom- Arërel and Turcë Rúnya in Elvish. These are my grandparents." She sighed, and a shadow of pain crossed her face. "These are my cousins, Sara and Michael. And this is me." She tapped her face in the picture, remembering that day. Her curly golden hair blew in the wind.
"That is you?" The elf was obviously surprised.
Elizabette laughed. "I was four years old."
Legolas was again surprised. "Four? How old are you now?"
"I was fifteen when I left my world. I do not know now how old I am."
"It does not really matter," said Legolas with a laugh. "You are immortal, now."
Elizabette frowned. "Exactly," she said. "I thought that elves were immortal- why, then, are they dying?"
Legolas' smile vanished. "Elves can die of wounds, but never before have we died of illness. This disease has evil powers. It kills us like nothing else can."
"Have you been to Manonaicë?"
"Several times. It is horrible but it does not trouble me as it does you." He paused for a moment. "Someday my father and I will join their number."
Elizabette looked at him thoughtfully. "Perhaps," was all that she said.
She went down to see Súláríl later. He waited in his stall.
You are more rested, he said.
Yes. I slept this morning.
Has the king sent a messenger to Lord Elrond?
Yes. She rubbed his face gently. How long do you believe that it will be until he returns?
Súláríl considered. On horseback? Perhaps a fortnight, perhaps more. It depends on many things.
I must wait a fortnight?
Yes.
Will you visit the diseased today? he asked later.
I do not know. Each time I see them, I feel worse.
Why do you not ask Legolas to accompany you?
I could... But he has already done so much. More than I deserve, after... She did not complete the sentence, but Súláríl understood.
Can we go for a ride? she asked Súláríl later.
Not by ourselves. You cannot fight if we are attacked.
Elizabette sighed. Mirkwood is so gloomy. The very darkness depresses me. Around the palace there is more light but the rest of the forest is damp and the sun does not penetrate.
Perhaps we will go to visit Elrond, suggested Súláríl.
Perhaps.
Súláríl ears flicked. The prince approaches, he thought to Elizabette.
Legolas appeared at the door of the stall. "Elizabette?" he asked softly. "My father wishes to know if you plan to visit Manonaicë today."
Elizabette sighed. "I do not know," she answered. "You have helped me more that you know, yet I think that if I return there, I may weaken again."
"Do you want me to accompany you?" asked Legolas.
"I am certain that you have more enjoyable things to do," replied Elizabette, gently rubbing Súláríl crest.
"I will come if it will help you," said Legolas.
"It will," said Elizabette softly. "Thank you."
She patted Súláríl. Legolas came into the stall and held his hand out to the horse. Súláríl shook his mane, warily sniffing the elf's hand, and allowed Legolas to pat him gently on the forehead.
Elizabette played with Súláríl's forelock absently.
What is troubling you? the horse asked in her mind.
I am nervous about going to Manonaicë, as well you know, she replied.
Yes, that I knew, but something else troubles you.
What is it?
I cannot tell. You have locked it into your mind.
Elizabette shrugged and withdrew. Legolas was watching her.
"Shall we go?" he asked.
"I... I suppose so," she replied hesitantly. Well did she know that the first sight of any of the fevered elves could send her back to fighting her memories.
Legolas sensed her thoughts. "Come, then. I will stay with you," he added gently. "I do not see how I can help, but..."
"You have helped me more than you know. Thank you."
The elf smiled and led the way to Manonaicë.
Elizabette paused just outside the door. Are you certain that I should do this, Súláríl? she asked.
Legolas will help you, he replied.
Legolas came over. Glancing at her face, he asked quietly, "Are you quite certain that you want to do this?"
"They will die if I do not." She took a breath and stepped inside.
The usual pain in the atmosphere weighed her down. For a moment her breath was short and she could not move. Legolas sensed it also and took her hand.
Elizabette felt warmth rush through her as Legolas' fingers touched hers. All of her nervous dissipated and was replaced by confidence.
She smiled at Legolas and together they entered the first room.
Elizabette drew the Star of Eärendil out of her pocket and fastened it around her neck. As the power surged up inside her, she laid a hand on the elf's hot, sweaty forehead.
She pressed a little of the power out of her palm, impressing her will upon it. After a moment the elf opened his eyes and smiled. His eyes were clear and his damp hair began to dry.
"Thank you, My Lady." he said to her. Seeing Legolas, he added, "My Lord."
Legolas came over to him. "You need not call me that, Aryonsûl. Do you feel better?"
"Yes, indeed, Legolas," answered Aryonsûl.
"How long have you been ill?"
"Only three days, Your Highness."
The elf smiled. "Ser uróma," (Rest quietly) he said as they left.
There was one more male elf, and three females. One of the females was only just beginning to show the symptoms. She hardly looked ill.
"Legolas," she said aside to him, "Do you not think that you should not come here?" She glanced around. "What if you catch the disease?"
"I am quite as likely to catch it in the palace as I am here," he replied. "It is not transmitted in any recognizable manner."
"It is very strange," said Elizabette after a moment. "I perceive that this disease is caused by some evil. It must be stopped."
The elf frowned. "Do you know where it may come from?"
"I believe that its source is in or near Mirkwood," replied Elizabette thoughtfully, "for it started here. Perhaps the power grew stronger and that is the reason that it spread everywhere. I can heal the disease in individual elves but in Lothlorien and Imladris it still spreads. There must be a way to stop it for once and for all."
Legolas frowned. "But how?"
"I do not know."
After Elizabette had helped all of the diseased elves, she and Legolas returned to the stables.
Elizabette patted Súláríl, and told him in her mind what had occurred. He made no comments, but Elizabette sensed his question.
I am all right, she told him. It did not trouble me as much as it might have.
Because of Legolas?
Perhaps.
Have you forgiven him?
Well... He has helped me much. But I cannot completely forgive and trust him until he understands. Someday he will.
How do you know? asked Súláríl.
It came to me in a dream... Something will come about that will pain him greatly, though perhaps not beyond recovery.
Elizabette? Do you know what will happen?
Yes. It came to me in a second dream.
Súláríl slipped into her thoughts, then carefully withdrew after a moment.
Yes, he said, it will pain him horribly. He may indeed go beyond help, as you nearly did.
Elizabette closed her eyes. I dare not tell him, she told Súláríl.
No. You should not.
"Elizabette?" She had forgotten that Legolas was there. "Are you all right?"
Elizabette opened her gray eyes. "Yes, I am fine." After a moment, she added, "When do you believe that the messenger will return?"
"The messenger to Lord Elrond? I know not; six days, perhaps, at the least."
---
They went back to the palace together for dinner. After dinner, Elizabette returned to her bedchamber. Legolas followed her later.
"Elizabette?" he asked softly. "I wish to know something. Have you forgiven me?"
Elizabette sighed. "In the way you mean, yes. But I cannot truly forgive you until you understand what torments me." She sat. "You will not be able to do so without great pain."
"Why not? What will happen?"
"I cannot tell you." She turned away.
"Why must it cause me pain?" Legolas asked.
"It must, for, without your own pain, you cannot understand mine." She sighed again and closed her eyes. "Please do not question me about this, Legolas. You do not wish to know, for it would haunt you and you would attempt to prevent things that must come to pass."
The elf was puzzled. "I do not understand," he said.
"You will," she responded softly.
---
A week passed. Every day Elizabette went to heal the sick elves, but every day their numbers grew. Sometimes Legolas accompanied her and sometimes he did not. Every night the memories returned, welcomed by the darkness, but as Elizabette grew stronger and as Legolas helped her, their power over her grew less.
Ten days after he had set off, the messenger to Lord Elrond returned. King Thranduil called Elizabette and Legolas to the throne room to hear his messages.
The elf's name was Rúnayë. Elizabette listened carefully as he told them,
"My Lords and Lady, I rode quickly to Imladris and I was well received. I presented your messages to Lord Elrond. He seemed quite surprised and indeed, horrified, at first, for though he said that he had indeed had another brother named Elráy, he had been killed in battle.
"After a time he decided that, since Elráy's body was never found, it could be true, and he asked you to bring me these messages:
"Firstly, he wishes that Lady Elénwen be sent to see him. He intends to see and speak with her.
"Secondly, he wishes to know how she can heal the disease." He paused for a long moment before continuing. "And thirdly, he wishes you to know that in the fall of this year, he and Gandalf the White will leave Middle- Earth with the Lady of Lothlorien and the hobbit Frodo."
"They will leave," Thranduil repeated. "Then we must hurry. Thank you," he added to Rúnayë. The messenger left.
Thranduil looked at Elizabette. "Do you wish to go to the House of Elrond?" he asked.
Elizabette smiled. "I do indeed, sir."
Thranduil nodded. "You will then depart in three days, if you are strong enough."
Elizabette replied, "I shall be, My Lord."
"I shall arrange an escort," continued the king.
"Father, may I go?" asked Legolas. "It is many years since I was last in Imladris."
Thranduil looked long at his son. Finally he nodded. "Yes, Legolas, you may go." He sighed.
---
Each night the memories crept back, though Elizabette now had more strength to resist. She ate enough and grew stronger.
On the third day after Rúnayë's return, she and Legolas left for Imladris, or Rivendell as it is called in the tongues of men. With them went an escort of ten elves.
After saying farewell to the king, they left. Many looked upon their leaving with sorrow, for without Elizabette the elves would die.
Elizabette rode Súláríl and Legolas Silrocca. Elizabette delighted in the first part of the journey. She enjoyed the long days of riding, wearying though they were, and relished the growing light as they neared the borders of Mirkwood. When they finally emerged from the dark forest, Elizabette had to shade her eyes with her hand. She had forgotten how bright the sunlight was.
None of the other elves fell ill during the journey. Elizabette was glad of this, for she needed all of her strength to continue traveling.
On the fifth day from the palace, Elizabette and Súláríl rode behind Legolas and Silrocca. Around midday Elizabette saw a sharp flash of pain cross the elf's features. Immediately Silrocca stopped and he jumped down. Súláríl stood beside his mother. The other elves behind them slowed and came to a stop.
Silrocca lifted one of her feet and the elf examined the sole. He grimaced in sympathy. Elizabette came over to look.
"What happened?" she asked.
Legolas showed her the foot. A sharp rock was embedded in the tender flesh. He dug it out gently with deft fingers. Silrocca stood still and unmoving as he removed it carefully.
The point of the rock was sticky with blood and the mare's foot bled profusely. Legolas took out his herbs and bandages. He crushed the leaves and gently applied them to the wound. Elizabette helped him wrap the foot in cloth.
At last Legolas turned to the other elves. "Silrocca cannot carry me," he said. "Either we must stop until she is rested or I will walk."
Elizabette asked Súláríl, Can you carry two people?
You mean you and Legolas? Yes. Elves are light.
Elizabette glanced at him. "You can ride behind me," she offered.
Legolas looked over at her. "Are you sure?" he asked in surprise. "Súláríl does not trust me."
Elizabette glanced at the horse. Súláríl? she asked.
I trust him when you are there also, he answered.
Elizabette looked at her friend. "He does not mind," she said.
Legolas grinned. "Hantalë," (Thank you) he said.
After a brief meal they continued. Elizabette had been wearing pants for she had found riding astride more secure and less tiring. Her indigo mantle flowed around her knees. She mounted Súláríl first and Legolas sprang up behind her.
Súláríl? she asked anxiously. Are we too heavy?
No. As I said before, elves are light.
Lighter than Men? How would you know?
My mother told me.
Legolas slipped an arm around her waist to help balance himself. She could cling to Súláríl's shoulders with her knees but he had nothing to grip.
Elizabette stiffened almost imperceptibly and he let go at once. "I am sorry, Elizabette," he apologized instantly.
Elizabette shook her head. "I do not mind," she said, slightly breathless.
"Are you certain?" Legolas asked doubtfully.
Elizabette smiled. "Yes," she replied. "You will want to hold on sometimes... like now!" Súláríl sprang into a canter. Legolas' slender arm encircled her waist again. Her golden- brown hair whipped back, as did Súláríl's long mane. The hood of Legolas' jade- colored cloak blew back and his long blond hair streamed out behind him. He laughed. "Slow down," he called. "We are leaving the others behind!"
Suddenly Súláríl wheeled and ran back toward the others. He whinnied and Elizabette laughed. He stopped beside Silrocca.
Silrocca? Legolas asked. Can you walk?
Yes, cundunya.
Súláríl turned again and started. The other elves followed and Silrocca walked painfully behind.
Elizabette pulled the hood of her cloak over her curls so that they would not fly in Legolas' face. They led the others for most of the afternoon.
Elizabette enjoyed riding with Legolas. Occasionally he offered her a tip or a correction on her position. Her riding had improved immensely and she felt confident on Súláríl's back.
Legolas enjoyed it also. He was unused to riding a horse that he was not in control of, but he could see easily that Elizabette was secure and would direct Súláríl carefully. He kept an arm around her waist for balance but even in his relaxed state, he was alert for any signs of danger.
---
That evening Legolas sat quietly on his blankets, thinking deeply. Briefly as he had known Elizabette, he felt that though she was often serious, she had another side. Sometimes she pulled down the wall and allowed him to see her different, playful personality, perhaps the personality that she would have had if her parents had lived.
He had realized that she had urged Súláríl to canter that day to cover her embarrassment, and he felt that she knew that he understood.
Fifteen, he thought. Such a long, long time ago it was that I was fifteen. Yet time seems to run differently in her world, for she appears quite as old as I. Perhaps all of the sorrows that she has passed through have caused her to conceal her emotions.
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Not a particularly happy chapter, a little fluff though:) I just hate this story though, nothing I can do about it. Editing the first few chapters didn't help much. Don't worry though, I will complete it.
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Not to advertise or anything:) but I've started another story that's being updated much faster than this one. It's an original fiction, romance, posted at http/ It's getting very little response, and it's lonely :) If you check it out and review, I'll love you forever... please?
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And finally, I have a few questions that I'd really appreciate answers to.
1. Do you like the way I've portrayed Legolas, and why or why not?
2. What do/don't you like about Elizabette?
3. Is there anything you'd like to see happen in this story (more explanation of details, more Legolas/Elizabette interaction, more action, less action...)
4. What is your favorite chapter so far, and why?
Thank you so much for reading.
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Thanks for reviewing: Kichou, Horse lover, Yellow Peanutbutter Ruler, Miriellar (I really appreciate criticism- can you elaborate on the Thranduil thing?), bandgeeks101, Eleniel of the Stars, and Celti Cross.
Navaer Lalaith: Where are you? I miss your criticism :(