To the anonymous 'fan' who asked if she was still bared when she ran to her savior: My guess would be most definitely, since her dress was ripped at least to the waist in the attack. Tatters won't do much to cover her up, and I rather think she wasn't likely to take the time to try, anyway. ; }

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"What's taking so long?" Elladan was asking, his horse pacing anxiously.

"Arwen went to speak with Lunian. They may be a while yet," Estel answered.

Lunian smiled to herself mentally at her sort of brother's response, but even so it was weak. "Won't they ask?" she asked Arwen, looking down at herself.

"Not yet. You should have a while to recover." Arwen smiled softly and tugged the cloth that covered Lunian's face up a little higher. "Just ride to the side of the group and look straight ahead. Don't avoid them or they'll know something's up."

"All right," she agreed, taking a deep breath.

"I want you to take this."

Lunian shook when she saw the silver-handled dagger.

"It is not the same one, though it was wrought by the same smith. You should carry it when traveling. I should have given it to you earlier, instead of keeping it as a last minute parting gift."

"It was not your fault," Lunian protested, hearing the guilt almost hidden in Arwen's voice. It grew deeper as she continued speaking.

"I never liked him. I should have had him removed from the hall long ago." Arwen lifted her eyes and smiled suddenly. "But you are right, it was no one's fault but his own."

Lunian smiled in return as she realized Arwen had forced her to admit that fact. The pain made it brief, but it was a smile. "Thank you again, Arwen."

"Dear little one," Arwen murmured, tucking a small piece of Lunian's hair under her hood. "I wish we had more time together."

"As do I," Lunian agreed, hugging her dear friend for a long moment. Then she took the dagger with a resigned sigh. She put it at her waist and took a deep breath before the two began walking to the assembled group.

"You must forgive me for delaying you, but I had a few things to say to my little sister before you take her away."

"No problem, sister of mine," Elladan murmured gallantly, getting astride his horse. "Shall we be off?"

The others mounted and followed. Lunian closed her eyes and was grateful no one asked what had been said or done. She wouldn't have known what to say.

'You'll have to forgive my tardiness, but I was being assaulted by a man but Arwen killed him before cleaning me up and making sure I knew it wasn't my fault and that I would be okay?' That would require lengthy explanations she wasn't up to just yet. Actually, no one would say a thing if she asked them not to, but the silence and sympathy—along with the rage—were just too strong and volatile for her to handle while she was trying to get a grip on her own feelings about it, which she had to do, and quickly.

She was still shaky, but had stopped shaking. Her tears had dried, and didn't look like they were going to come back any time soon, thankfully. The only thing she worried about was them noticing that she now wore not only her hood but a cloth covering her face, and her dress had been changed from one with light, airy sleeves that showed her arms to one that would not. If they noticed that, and insisted she change for the journey, her bruises would be exposed. And that would require her to explain…

She sighed softly and clutched at her worry stone, rolling it in her fingers even as she absently moved so she was riding between Elrohir and Legolas. Elrohir would keep her mind from wandering too far down that path, because she had been saved. And she knew he would have given anything to save her mother.

"Are you well, Lunian?" Legolas's voice was concerned.

"Yes," she agreed softly, deciding to go with the broadest possible definition of the term 'well'. "Why do you ask?"

He was frowning, she knew that much without looking at him.

"You aren't asking him a thousand questions, you aren't looking around at the land around you, and you haven't even removed your hood to feel the sun. All are unusual for you."

"What is your point or your question, Elrohir?"

He frowned as well but looked away. "Are you feeling well?"

She sighed softly. "I am pondering what Arwen said," she murmured at last, figuring that was safe enough. It was true, after all. "May I ride in contemplative silence?"

"As you wish," Legolas murmured, his tone confused.

She closed her eyes but didn't let her guilt override her common sense. If she wanted to make it back to Rivendell without them knowing what had happened, she couldn't let them see her face or her arms.

Which would make it hard to eat.

She blinked at the thought, her eyes wide. How was Arwen expecting her to get around that?

She probably wasn't, Lunian admitted. While she could draw away without being noticed for a day or two, she probably wouldn't last to Rivendell, just because she wouldn't always think to make sure the cloth covered her face.

She closed her eyes, and vowed to make it as far as she could.

They rode the day in silence, and no one objected to her taking her food as she stretched her legs when they stopped for the night since they knew she grew sore even though they did not. The next morning, Legolas woke her with a gentle shake. "Good morning," he murmured when she opened her eyes.

She stretched carefully, putting her arm in front of her face before rolling so her back was to him. She sat up, checked that her face was covered, and then accepted her food before mounting for the day's ride.

Once again she managed to keep her face hidden through meals and conversation, which were slightly stilted because of her unusually subdued nature.

With a sigh of relief she removed the cloth that evening as she knelt before a stream. She pulled off her cloak and set it aside, rolling up her sleeves so she could bathe a little before one of the males would call for her to return. She dunked her hair and lathered what of herself she could reach in her limited time, then dried off.

Just before she could pull her sleeves down, she heard the call. She sighed and rolled her eyes before something she'd not noticed caught her attention. The call was from far closer than she'd expected. She spun around, rising to her feet at the same moment.

The color drained from Legolas's face as he looked at her exposed face and arms. He reached out and touched her cheek lightly where the bruise's farthest edge had begun to fade. "Lunian," her name was a hoarse croak, a tortured murmur. "What happened?"

He looked like he'd been struck, drained of all strength. She closed her eyes against the pain in his and drew a deep breath. Her eyes snapped open when she felt his hands close over the marks on her arms, shifting here and there. He swallowed as it became obvious several of the bruises were in the shape of fingers and palms. His eyes darted over her, catching a hint of bruise beneath the neckline of her dress. A long finger nudged the material out of the way, before his eyes narrowed and his jaw drew tight. The blue fire was back in his eyes, making her shiver and nearly made her back away, but he didn't allow it. He looked at her for a long moment, and then strode quickly away.

Legolas was nearly shaking in rage as he left the small grove of trees. "Elrohir!" The elf looked up, took one look at his face and hesitated in his greeting. "Follow me," Legolas growled, turning back to where he had left Lunian. When they arrived she was covered as she had been, and he suddenly understood why she hadn't let the sun caress her hair on their return trip so far.

"What's going on?" Elrohir asked, not seeing anything wrong.

Legolas moved forward, a low growl escaping his throat as she backed away from the anger she could no doubt see and feel radiating from him. He caught her carefully, trying not to hit any of her bruises, and tugged the cloth from her face.

Elrohir's breath hissed out between his teeth as he saw the dark discoloration that covered most of her face beneath her nose, and a good portion of her throat. "Not you too," he protested weakly, sounding ready to collapse.

Lunian's eyes went from slightly defiant to worried in an instant. She moved forward and clasped Elrohir's hands, shaking her head, ignoring that the cloth fell aside completely. "No. Arwen came in." She winced as Elrohir hugged her tightly, but merely returned the gesture, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Calmacil?" Legolas asked in a low voice, barely above a growl.

"You will not kill him," she murmured, a faint smile touching her split and bruised lips.

"That's right. I get to," Elrohir cut in, eyes narrowed.

She shook her head. "Arwen beat you to it." She took a deep breath and looked between them. "Please don't say anything. I couldn't bear it right now."

"What were you thinking, not telling us?" Legolas was barely holding in his rage, but his question was louder and sharper than he had intended.

Lunian paled slightly, lifting a hand to her head. "I can't take this now!" she insisted, a fine tremor running over her.

Elrohir laid a hand on her shoulder, saw her wince for the pain, and pushed the material out of the way. He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. "I hope it was a slow death," he finally muttered, before turning to Legolas. "You must try and control your rage, Legolas."

Legolas was incensed farther by the slow dying of anger in Elrohir's eyes. "I will not accept this so easily," he hissed.

"You need never accept it," Elrohir countered sharply, "but you must control your rage, for Lunian." Elrohir replaced the cloth around Lunian's face, and sent her back to the others, remaining to explain the harsh reality to the outraged prince. "Lunian is like her mother in her ability to pick up on the feelings of others. It is probably that which kept her silent. Having four furious, concerned and otherwise emotional elves around her while trying to deal with her own feelings about what happened would tax her control too quickly."

Legolas closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It didn't help much, but he forced himself to think instead of react to the rage. "How could it happen? We were right outside. Wouldn't we have heard her…?"

"Not necessarily," Elrohir murmured, his voice so sad it stopped a good portion of the rage in Legolas from continuing.

Somewhat calmed, he reminded himself the bastard was dead, and could never touch her, or even look at her again. That helped a lot. Knowing that letting his emotions run wild could hurt Lunian was the final thing he needed. A shudder went over him as he released the rest of it. "This won't last long."

"I'll make sure we don't stop in Lothlorien," Elrohir assured him. "Just remember anything strong she'll pick up on, whether she wants to or not. Try to remain calm."

Legolas nodded, hoping it wouldn't be beyond him. As they turned back to join the others, they saw a hooded and cloaked figure waiting for them at the top of the hill. She looked up at them, and sighed in relief when she read in their faces they weren't going to say anything. She hugged Elrohir, then cupped Legolas's face with her hands. She tilted his head down and kissed his forehead before hugging him, laying her head against his shoulder for a moment. He started to return her hug, but recalled the wince on her face when Elrohir hugged her. Instead he stroked her hair, tilting her head back so he could kiss her forehead as she started to move back.

"Where are you hurt?" Elrohir asked in as neutral a voice as he could manage.

She sighed heavily and reached for his hand. "My arms, shoulders, back, neck and face have the worst of it, but I'm probably bruised pretty much all over." Feeling a flicker of anger from Legolas, she turned her head to him, sighing when he winced upon seeing her face. "I am better, Egola. I shall be fine before long."

He stopped suddenly, remembering something. "You lied to us."

She winced, her eyes closing in pain the physical gesture had caused. "I evaded telling the absolute truth, but I didn't lie."

"You consider this being well?" he asked, knowing as she swayed on her feet his rage was getting out of hand again.

"Considering what could have happened, yes!" she snapped back. Then her head swiveled to Elrohir, and she moaned. Her eyes rolled into her head and she passed out, her limp body caught by two pairs of arms before she could hit the ground.

"What was that you were saying about being calm?" Legolas ground out sarcastically. Even he had felt the tumble of emotions pouring out of Elrohir at the same time her head had turned to see him.

Elrohir sent him a look that quite plainly told him to shut up, and helped him lift her carefully, before covering her face once more so they could return to the others.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Okay, I realize it's not quite what was expected… but I preferred playing with Legolas's reaction this way.

I received one very, very tentative e-mail saying it might be a good idea for me to change the rating, which I obviously did. If you could handle the last chapter, you've got nothing to worry about for the rest of the story… as far as I'm planning, anyway. I doubt it will get much more graphic in any way… for those who are queasy.

I'll try and have the next chapter up by the end of the week—probably by Thursday, at the latest. Still, any ideas are welcome and encouraged… along with catching any possible mistakes. It may take me a while, but I'll try to fix them if someone mentions them.

Until next time, thanks for reading, the reviews, and the e-mails. It's nice to know not everyone stopped reading when I had to stop updating over the summer.