Author's note ~ I haven't been keeping my promises, have I. I'm sorry, I keep saying that I will update quickly and I haven't. I couldn't continue on with this story until I had it all figured out. Now that I do, it will get finished by the end of the year.

I would like to extend my thanks to my readers for all of your fantastic reviews, it means a lot to me. And also, although I do know how I am ending the story, I would like to know how you, as my readers, want it to end. Thanks so much! So, on with the show! ~ Arwen

"Sun Star ~ Child of Light"

Chapter VII ~ "The Waking World"

Legolas sighed, leaning deeper into the plush chair. He had been sitting in this room for two days and nights, and another night was fast approaching. Anorel had not shown any signs of waking in all that time, although her breathing was slow and regular and her skin was cool to the touch. The Elf prince knew that she was now sleeping peacefully, as opposed to being unconscious.

"This may well be the first restful sleep that Anorel has had in her life," King Thranduil said, coming over to stand behind his youngest son. "I think that she has deserved it."

"As do I, Father," Legolas replied, standing and stretching his rather stiff muscles. "When will we return her to Rivendell?"

"As soon as she is able to travel. No sooner than what is safe, though. Elrond would be most displeased if his youngest child arrived home for the first time in her life only to collapse from exhaustion."

Laughing, Legolas took a quick sip of wine and sat again, stifling a soft groan. Checking his father's words before they were even spoken, Legolas held up a hand. "I will be fine. As soon as Anorel wakes, I will take some rest in my chambers. Not before."

"You have inherited your mother's stubbornness, I see," Thranduil mused, shaking his head tiredly.

"Strange, as I recall, Mother said the same thing, save that it was your stubbornness that I had inherited."

Thranduil laid a hand on his son's shoulder and smiled. "I would like to speak with Anorel when she is feeling well enough to leave this chamber. Please send her to me when she is ready." Thranduil cast one last glance over the sleeping form of Anorel and left the room.

Although Anorel had heard most of the conversation going on around her, she was not yet certain if it was dream or reality. Although the headache throbbing behind her temples was significant proof to show that she was indeed awake, Anorel could not recognize with any accuracy the voices or the place she was currently in. "Am I in Mirkwood?" she asked softly, her voice laced with the pain that she was feeling.

To his credit, Legolas did not jump, though he waited for a few moments before answering, in order to calm his nerves. "Yes, Anorel, you are in Mirkwood," he replied. "I found you on our southern borders a few days ago and brought you here, to my father's palace."

Anorel slowly opened her eyes and winced in the bright light of the setting sun, which shone directly in through her west window. "So I am free, then," she said softly, carefully sitting up. "Am I to recover here, or be moved elsewhere?"

"Now that you are awake, you should not need much more healing time. One of the best Elven healers in recent history tended to you when you first arrived. I should think that you will be walking about tomorrow. As for the moment, I would suggest that you go back to sleep. Tomorrow will come quickly enough."

~~~~~~~~~ Twelve days later

Anorel stood on the balcony attached to her room, bathed in the bright light of the setting sun. The Palace of Mirkwood stood in one of the only clearings known in the entire forest, so the Silvan Elves could enjoy both the rising and the setting of the sun, Anor.

She smiled happily, finally having a chance to reflect on the events of the past twelve days. Busy was, perhaps, rather inadequate, but it seemed to describe her first two weeks of freedom fairly well. As soon as she was fully recovered, Anorel was introduced to her temporary home, learning much about the ways of Elves. She had also been taught to read, at least, partially taught. Legolas still became frustrated with her from time to time, but only when she purposefully misunderstood his instructions.

Lessons in proper court behavior had also been taken, which Anorel disliked from the very beginning. Sadly, they were necessary.

Equally as necessary were lessons in archery, sword-fighting, and riding. These were far more enjoyable, and much easier for her, as these traits came naturally.

Anorel's thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on her door. She half-turned, recognizing the presence behind the door. "Come in, Eithon," she called, feeling slightly curious about this unexpected visit.

Eithon stepped through the doorway and inclined his head politely. "My father wishes you to attend a meeting in the main conference chamber. He says it is an urgent matter. May I escort you?"

Anorel's eyebrows rose as she pondered this. "Of course you may. Why am I to take part in this meeting?"

"You have unique information that is important to us and our survival," Eithon said softly, walking her down the long halls. Pausing before a large pair of double doors, he gave her an encouraging smile. "Good luck."

Anorel stepped across the threshold of the large meeting chamber, looking warily at the many obviously high-ranking Elves sitting around the long, oval table. She moved slowly toward the head of the table and sat in the chair prepared for her. Thranduil sat two seats away, looking very regal and powerful in full royal dress and crown.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Anorel," he said, smiling at her. "Please, tell us what you know of Sauron, how powerful he is becoming, and so on."

Anorel blinked, studying her hands while she attempted to order her thoughts. "In truth, I know very little about Sauron himself, save that he is indeed becoming more powerful. When I escaped from Mordor, Sauron did not yet have a corporeal form, but he does not need a physical body to inflict pain. I sustained many serious injuries while in Barad-Dur, both from Sauron and from his Orcs."

Thranduil sighed, leaning back into his throne and steepling his fingers. "Very well, thank you. Is there nothing else of importance that you can recall?"

"Nay, my lord, nothing. I will inform you if I do," she promised.

Thranduil turned his attention to the other Elves sitting around the table. "I believe that we are all agreed that there is nothing we can presently do about this situation. But we must be alert, Sauron may well feel the sting of Anorel's escape and take action to retrieve her. Watch Mordor closely, my friends."

Each Elf rose gracefully from his seat and nodded respectfully at Thranduil before turning to one another and talking softly. One tall, handsome Elf extricated himself from the crowd and walked swiftly toward Anorel, his blue eyes fixed on her face. A few steps away, he halted and stared at her, shock slowly spreading over his face.

Legolas stood and moved behind Anorel, his eyes on the Elf. "Glorfindel, an Elf from your father's court."

"Why has he stopped like that?" Anorel asked nervously, watching Glorfindel closely.

"I do not know," Legolas answered, stepping forward slightly. "Glorfindel! You may approach, my friend!"

Glorfindel glanced at Legolas and nodded, walking the last few paces. "I wish to speak with you, Prince Legolas. But first, 'tis an honor to meet you, Lady Anorel. My name is Glorfindel, your father's emissary to this meeting."

She smiled at him, still slightly unsure of herself. "Thank you, Glorfindel. I apologize, I am not sure of what to say under these circumstances."

Glorfindel gave a slightly evil grin. "You have inherited your father's disdain for social functions, I think. You have nothing to be ashamed of, milady. I have brought you a package from your family. There are letters from all of your siblings and your father, as well as a few other items." He took a packet from an hidden pocket inside his robes and handed it to Anorel.

She accepted the package gratefully and excused herself, practically running from the room.

Legolas smiled to himself and turned his attention back to Glorfindel. His smile quickly faded, as he saw turmoil and surprise running rampant on the older Elf's face. "What troubles you, my friend? Never have I seen your emotions so clearly."

Glorfindel glanced around the room before answering, checking that none would overhear their conversation. "Does Anorel always feel that way?"

Legolas quirked an eyebrow, giving Glorfindel a bemused smile. "What do you mean, my friend? Feel what way?"

"This is quite serious, Legolas," Glorfindel said. "What do you sense when you first see Anorel?"

"Mostly what I sense from any other Elf, save that she has within her a touch more darkness than most. But is that not understandable, considering what she has been through?"

Glorfindel laid a hand on Legolas' shoulder, forcing the younger Elf to meet his gaze. "And has that dark feeling been growing larger since the first time you saw her face-to-face?"

Legolas glanced at the floor, casting back into his memory for the answer. "Yes, it has," he said finally, beginning to feel somewhat apprehensive. "What does this mean? You suspect something, I can see it in your eyes."

"I suspect that Anorel may have been meant to escape from Mordor," Glorfindel said slowly. "Sauron is extremely devious, Legolas. He may have plans for Anorel that we cannot even begin to fathom. I can say nothing more until I explore this theory. If Anorel has any type of dark power at work within or without her, I will know."

"And I will inform my father of this new development. Good luck, my friend," Legolas said, clasping Glorfindel's shoulder.

Legolas took a deep breath and threaded his way through the Elves, searching among them for his father. Thranduil stood still at the head of the table, speaking quietly with an Elf from Lothlorien. Legolas waited until his father noticed him before coming closer. "Father, I need to speak with you," he whispered. "Tis important."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. He excused himself and walked with his son toward the outer halls. "Something troubles you," he said calmly, "else you would not have interrupted my conversation."

"Indeed, Father. Glorfindel believes that something is amiss with this entire situation. He wonders if Anorel was not meant to escape from Mordor."

"I see," Thranduil mused, pondering these new thoughts. "This confirms what I was beginning to suspect myself."

Legolas turned sharply, catching his father's arm. "Then why did I not see it as well?"

"Perhaps because you are too close to her to sense it." Thranduil sighed, knowing that he had only one option left. "Nevertheless, Anorel cannot remain here. We are not in a very defensible position, Rivendell would be safer in an attack. Prepare Anorel for our departure, we leave in two days. But tell her nothing of our suspicions, she does not need to know yet."

"Yes, Father. We will be ready," Legolas said, fighting off the sense of foreboding that was pricking at the corners of his mind. "We will be ready."