The echo of her silent footsteps bounced hollowly on the plain, empty wooden walls as she slowly climbed the narrow staircase, her invisible shadow her only companion. Everything felt so distant, so unreachable to her senses, the sights, the sounds, so far away, like the foggy images of a forgotten dream. Her feet continued to carry her on their own, driving her without her mind ever knowing where. She could hear voices upstairs, feet rushing along a narrow, plain hallway, long shadows chasing behind them.

Her soaked clock dripped underneath her footsteps, the garment sticking to her figure with a cold grasp, bracing her with trapping arms as iced and harsh as the rainy night outside this plain building. Her insides felt empty, her heart sinking so deep inside of her that she could no longer reach it, could no longer feel its incessant drumming on her chest as only reminder that she was still alive. Her throat felt tight, tied in a knot, and something she could not quite name burned inside her veins: anger, rage, pain, despair. She did not know.

She reached the top of the stairs, although she did not know how long the journey there had taken her. Upstairs, the building consisted of a plain wooden hallway, various simple doors placed on either side of it. She walked, her feet moving without her even realizing it. The tingling in her fingers had disappeared, the strange force that had been burning inside her veins begging to be released vanished, and suddenly she felt more alone than ever; emptier than ever.

She walked past a half-opened door, stopping at the doorframe to peek inside the small room, although she already knew who was inside of it. Her heart sank even further as her eyes caught sight of Tadion, lying motionless on one of the beds inside the room. He looked peaceful, as if he was merely sleeping, except for the way in which his eyes were unusually closed in his sleep and the new white bandages that covered his bare torso. At least attention had already been paid to his wound.

Lossenel sat at the edge of the bed, one of her pale hands carefully stroking her younger brother's golden hair, so gently, so soothingly, as if trying to lull him to sleep, even though he could not feel the tenderness of her hand. The Princess' stunning ice green-blue eyes seemed dulled somehow, empty of their usual light. It was a sight she did not like seeing in her sister's eyes.

She let her eyes drift to the other bed in the room, trying to make herself small and unnoticeable in the shadowed doorframe. The Crown Prince lay on the other bed, only a couple of feet away from Tadion and Lossenel. Arahaelon seemed fast asleep, or no longer conscious, she could not tell which it was. His face was far too pale, just as Tadion's, eyes equally closed. He looked overly exhausted. She felt the knot in her throat tighten, her heart shattering as her eyes stared at him. His sudden outburst still played inside her head, her heart constricting to a point in which it felt almost like physical pain. She had not seen that coming. She felt hurt, angry, rejected. Did he blame her for Tadion's injury? For this unexpected journey out of the safety and comfort of their home? Part of her could not help but feel guilty, although the other part of her knew that none of it was her fault, she could not control anything.

Lossenel's eyes lifted in her direction, as if she had felt her quiet presence standing in the doorway. Dull ice colored eyes met hers, stained with sorrow. Different from what she had expected, her sister's eyes were soft, welcoming, looking at her with a strange mixture of regret and apology. She immediately lowered her eyes, not knowing what to make of the Princess' expression, but certainly not in the mood for any kind of conversation. Instead, she quickly walked away.

"Almarëa?" She heard Lossenel softly calling her name behind her, her sister's musical voice sounding faint, hesitantly, like a hopeless plea she knew would not be answered.

She did not turn around. She could not turn around. Her feet dragging her empty body along the dimly lit corridor, to the other room in which she could hear Elrohir's voice. The sound was clear to her ears, but her mind could make out any words. Everything felt so foggy, happening so fast, and at the same time so slow, as if her mind was allowing her to absorb bits and pieces of her surroundings, while on the remaining time it focused on crushing her insides, constricting her throat and digging a hole trough her heart.

She could hear voices: Legolas and Elrohir. She could see their shadows from the other side of the opened door. Her feet walked faster, her breathing coming quicker as a sole thought engulfed her entire mind: Elladan. She reached the opened door in seconds, but could not go any further. Her heart jumped inside her chest, beating loudly as her chest constricted painfully, her body frozen.

She tried to breath, but it was becoming harder and harder, the knot in her throat only getting tighter. She felt in a daze, as if her mind was trying to fool her by telling her that the image in front of her eyes was not real. Elladan was lying on his stomach on the only bed inside the room. His soaked cloak and tunic had been removed, his back completely bare as Elrohir hovered over him, Legolas at his heels. A large wound was opened in Elladan's lower back, but she could not see the extent of the damage due to the alarming amount of blood flowing freely from it, staining the room with its sick coppery smell.

She could feel her body starting to tremble, all of her senses telling her to run to him, to hold his hand to stroke his head to kiss his face, but she could not move. She could not get herself to walk inside. Elrohir's silver eyes shone with fear, a kind of fear and urgency that make her own worry and anxiety grow triple. Legolas was pressing a cloth tightly against Elladan's back, in a failing attempt to stop the bleeding. Her brother's infinite blue eyes held the same urgent look as Elrohir, and he kept throwing desperate glances in the younger twin's direction. Elrohir's hands ran urgently down his twin's back, probing carefully, examining if the blow had caused any damage to his brother's spine.

"Elrohir, he is loosing too much blood." Legolas pressed and a look of despair crossed Elrhoir's gaze for a second, seeming to hesitate on what to do, whether or not he should forget about his task of examining Elladan's spine. She could already see an aggressive large bruise covering the middle of the elder twin's back, larger than her open palm, marking the place where the orc had slammed against him.

She felt as if a hand had been pressed to her neck, her body shaking without her able to control it. Legolas' eyes darted in her direction once, meeting her dark green ones. He tried to offer her a smile, but it did not look reassuring at all, and his gaze quickly lowered once again to focus on the wound on Elladan's back, pressing the cloth tighter.

Her attention quickly turned to Elladan, her heart shattering in a million pieces under a sight she was sure would haunt her dreams. The elder twin was overly pale, beads of sweat covering his ashen skin. The muscles on his back were tensed in agony, his hands gripping the pillow with a force that could almost rip the open. She could not see his face, pressed tightly against the pillow. His breathing was shallow and quick, and she could see him growing paler and paler by the second, as if every drop of blood inside of him was drifting out of his body, draining all of his strength with it. Elrohir's eyes did not look at his twin, as trying to only focus on his wound, his expression as hard as stone.

"Elrohir." Legolas pressed again, and the younger quickly turned in his direction, finished with his examination. She could feel her body trembling, fear wracking her senses. Elrohir hands moved quickly, looking over the wound, pressing yet another cloth at it, instruction Legolas to do some things, but she was no longer paying attention to their words. Elladan seemed to be on the brink of consciousness, no longer completely aware of his surroundings as he sharply tensed and pulled away from his twin's hands, trying in vain to escape the torturing pain.

She shut her eyes tightly, he feet rushing away from the scene, even though her mind kept yelling at her to run inside, to hold Elladan, to try to ease his pain. And yet her body was fleeing, rushing out into the hallway, not knowing where to go. Breathing was too hard; despair holding her in its caging claws.

She suddenly stopped, paralyzed in between the door concealing Elladan and the door concealing her siblings. She had never felt so lost, so despaired, so frightened. Something wet covered her cheeks, and only did she realized she was crying. She felt herself falling, falling into a dark, endless abyss, Arahaelon's word's chocking her from the inside, accompanied by the bloodied image of Elladan's back, of Tadion's bandaged torso.

She hit the wooden floor with her knees, making herself small against the edge of the hallway, pressing herself to the cold humid wall, feeling the empty wood absorbing every bit of warmth inside her body. She continued to shake, not aware of anything around her, only hearing distant sounds, seeing blurry shadows. The seconds merged with the beats of her drumming heart, hours dancing before her empty eyes, time becoming as hollow and lost as her insides, until she could no longer tell if she had been there for hours, or days. Everything around her looked black, although her eyes were open and seeing. Everything around her was silent, although her ears caught the echo of voices along the hallway. She could hear someone saying a word in the distance, but was not sure if it was only a product of her mind. The voice repeated the word. Too distant. She could not understand what it said. The voice spoke again. Her name. Someone was calling her name. Slowly she came back to her senses. She was still sitting on the dimly lit hallway, her small body curled against the cold wall.

"Rina?" She slowly turned her head in the direction of the gentle voice, her void eyes taking their time to recognize a pair of kind silver eyes staring back at her. Elrohir. How long had she been sitting there?

Elrohir's gentle silver eyes stared into hers, patient, sympathetic, and she noticed that one of his hands lay softly on her shoulder. He had been shaking her slightly. The younger twin slimed faintly at her, a smile that did not reach his soothing silver eyes. She could feel him carefully studying her, looking at her as if she was made of fragile glass. She immediately looked into his eyes, a new urgency suddenly visible in her own green eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her before she could pronounce a word.

"He is fine." His voice was calmed, as soothing and comforting as it always was. Relief did not come to her as she had expected it would. She knew what Elrohir's words meant. Elladan was alive, and he would recover. But Elladan was not fine. He was far from fine. Elrohir's hands travelled to her cheek, thumbs softly wiping away the trace of her tears.

Gently, he pulled her to her feet, her body feeling like a ragged doll, easily letting him guide her in the direction of Elladan's room. Elrohir kept an arm around her shoulders, the other holding to her arm as she walked. Suddenly she was overly glad for his soothing presence, which seemed to calm her wracked nerves. His touch felt so comforting, so warm against the cold bitter air.

Elladan was still lying on his stomach, white bandages covering the lower half of his bare back. He was no longer moving, his body limp on the bed, and she could see that pillows had been arranged around him to prevent him from rolling over in his sleep. Her heart sank once again, her feet instantly moving in his direction. He looked pale, far too pale, his dark hair splattered over the pillow in sharp contrast.

"He lost a dangerous amount of blood, but he will heal completely." She heard Elrohir telling her softly as she made her way to the bed. A hole expanded in her already shattered heart. Elladan looked so frail, so vulnerable. She stretched a hand to brush away a strand of dark hair form his face, but stopped mid-way, scared to touch him.

"He is unconscious." Elrohir informed, his voice merely a faint whisper. She absently noticed that he had walked to her side, watching over her. "He passed out early on, so he did not feel anything as I cleaned and stitched the wound. He is lucky that wound did not cause any permanent damage."

Slowly, she let her hand gently caress against Elladan's cheek, her heart sinking further at the unusually cold temperature of his skin. He did not stir, did not react in the slightest to her touch. He could not feel it. She had known that beforehand, but still the fact that he did not react felt like a new stab to her chest. Silently, she placed a strand of dark hair behind his pointed ear before letting herself drop to the floor, kneeling next to the bed. She did not want to sit on the mattress for fear that she might disturb him, even though she knew he would not wake.

"You should get some rest, Rina." Elrohir whispered to her, although she could hear the defeat in his voice that told her he already knew she would not move from her spot. "You are well past exhausted."

"I will be fine." She heard her voice answering although she never commanded her mouth to speak.

Her eyes remained fixed on Elladan's face, which was facing her over the soft pillow, roaming over his closed silver eyes and over his handsome features. She could distantly hear Elrohir moving around the room, and absently noticed him placing a chair next to her, facing the bed, but he did not force her to sit on it. Then, she felt him gently place a warm blanket over her shoulders, not even telling her to rise from the floor. Her eyes lifted to meet his sad silver ones, staring at her with a pained expression. She tried to smile at him in thanks, but was sure that her attempt must have looked pathetic.

"I will be in the next room with Legolas. Wake me if anything changes." She heard Elrohir telling her in a soft comforting voice, offering her another sad smile. The younger twin's silver eyes darted to his brother once more before he walked to the door, clear pain staining his silver irises. She knew that leaving his twin's side was not an easy task for him.

"You can stay here if you wish, Ro. You do not have to go." Her voice sounded frailer than she imagined, and Elrohir stopped in his march, turning his gentle silver eyes to look in her direction.

The younger twin smiled faintly at her, shaking his head lightly. "You watch over him. I am sure he would rather wake up to your company than mine."

She was not sure if his comforting words made her feel better or not, but she nonetheless gave him another pitiful attempt of a smile. Without another word, Elrohir turned around, once again headed towards the door. The golden rays of the sun threatened to filter through the dark closed curtains. It had already dawned. A painful hole settled in her stomach as she remembered the date.

"Ro." She called, and she heard him halt just as he opened the door, once again turning to face her.

"Yes?"

"Happy begetting day."

Elrohir's kind silver eyes met hers, looking pained and at the same time lighted with a new expression. A faint smile drew on his lips, very small, but real. He did not say anything else and after a second she heard the door closing silently behind him.

Time dance before her eyes once again. Seconds stretched into minutes, minutes into hours, until she lost track. She did not move from her spot, her mind feeling like a turmoil of thoughts she could not order. Her hand slowly stroked Elladan's long dark hair, or caressed his cheek, or gently traced the length of his eyebrows. She was exhausted, she could feel it, but she knew that even if she tried, she would not be able to sleep, her mind would not be able to rest.

She did not know how many hours had gone by, if it was still morning or already afternoon when the faintest of moans suddenly brought her drifting thoughts back to reality. Her eyes flew to Elladan. He was beginning to stir. She continued to soothingly stroke his hair, watching his brow knit together in pain as he began to regain consciousness. For a second, she wished he would not wake, knowing that he would have to face the pain form his wound if he did.

Another faint sound escaped his lips, but she could not tell what it was. Making up her mind she rushed to her feet, determined to get Elrohir before Elladan woke up entirely. However before she made it to the door, the same opened suddenly, the younger twin standing at the doorway, looking at her. He must have felt Elladan starting to wake. Elrohir's eyes flew to the bed, where his assumptions were quickly confirmed, then he shook his head lightly.

"He should not be waking still." Elrohir muttered, and she was sure who he was talking to. Then his silver eyes turned to her. "I will mix him something for the pain. I will be right back."

The younger twin did not wait for an answer on her part, quickly leaving the room to complete his task. She returned to the side of the bed, her hand flying to gently grasp Elladan's unmoving one as she once again dropped herself to her knees, for her face to be at the level of his. Elladan had tensed, his body trembling slightly, handsome face lined with pain. She caressed his forehead gently, brushing away some strands of hair as she leaned her face closer to his.

"Dan?" She whispered in a barely audible voice, as if scared that loud noises would disturb him. His breathing had quickened, and she could feel the hand she was holding starting to move, his slender fingers loosely curling around hers, too weary to manage a steady grip. "Dan, can you hear me?"

"Rina?" He rasped, half of the sound dying before he had finished pronouncing the word, but she understood it nonetheless. She pressed a hand to his cheek, her thumb carefully caressing the end of his dark eyebrow. His silver eyes opened only halfway, as if his eyelids were too heavy to lift them entirely. His eyes were dazed, unfocused, and she felt her chest constricting once more as she saw him trying to make out her face in the blur that he was probably seeing. Pain was clearly visible in his confused silver eyes, their usual strength gone.

"I am here, Dan." She answered immediately, leaning closer to him as she saw his eyes close tight once again, another pained expression crossing his overly pale face. Her hand continued to gently rest on his cheek and he leaned into her touch as if trying to hide himself in her hand, desperate to escape his misery. Then his mouth opened again, and he muttered something to her, but she could not make out the words. His voice was too low, barely pronouncing each word.

"Dan, I cannot hear you." She replied softly, leaning closer to hear what he was trying to say, desperate to know what he needed. He spoke again, the words slurred, merging with one another, and she only caught pieces of what he was saying. Panic crossed her heart like a piercing dagger. Elvish. He was speaking in sindarin. She had no clue what he was trying to say.

"Dan, I cannot understand you." She tried, letting her hand brush through his hair and gently rub his bare upper back. "My love, I do not speak sindarin."

His silver eyes open half-way once more, trying to focus on her face. He spoke again, leaning into her touch as she continued to rub his back soothingly, trying to offer the little comfort she could. She had never felt so desperate. She could not understand what he was trying to tell her, not a single word. She knew he could not distinguish he was speaking another language. In her despair she tried to reach him through their bond, trying to understand what it was he needed, but his mind was too foggy, none of his thoughts clear, she could not read anything but pain.

Her heart jumped with hope as she heard the door opening. She lifted her eyes quickly, relived to see Elrohir rushing to her side, a steaming cup in his hands. The younger twin's silver eyes were glued on his brother, frantically examining him. Elladan repeated his mumbled phrase and to her release Elrohir answered, in the same musical language she could not understand. She felt utterly useless as Elladan closed his eyes once more, finally getting an answer to his words. She instantly rose to her feet, to allow Elrohir to come closer to the bed, and the younger twin quickly placed the cup he had been holding on the tiny bedside table.

"Dan, we need to move you so that you can drink the draught, alright?" Elrohir's voice was soothing, the way one speaks to a sleeping child, as she saw Elladan's eyes open to look at his twin, nodding his head once in understanding. Extremely carefully, she helped Elrohir rolling Elladan onto his back, the younger twin arranging some pillows behind his brother's back, propping him up. Elladan's eyes were shut tightly in pain, the slight movement more than he could take.

Elrohir did not waste time, immediately helping the steaming cup to his twin's lips. She stood there, unmoving, unable to do anything, simply watching. Elladan drank slowly from the cup, not even attempting to hold it in his hands, as if he knew he would not be able to carry its weight. In short minutes he had finished the draught, and she wakened from her daze as she saw Elrohir placing the now empty cup back on the bedside table. She noticed that Elladan's eyes were tightly closed once more.

"Dan, do you want to lie on your stomach again?" She could hear Elrohir asking, his voice soothing, no longer a healer but a brother. Elladan shook his head wearily. He did not want to move.

"Rina?" Elladan rasped again, not opening his eyes.

"I am still here." She said instantly, moving to sit at the edge of the bed, opposite to where Elrohir sat. Elladan did not say anything else, but only leaned into her touch as she once again let her hand gently stroke his hair. To her greatest relief he somehow relaxed under her touch, although the pained expression never left his face. It felt like an eternity before the draught started making an effect, Elladan slowly relaxing, drifting off into a deep dreamless sleep. Neither Elrohir nor her moved for a while, simply sitting there, silently.

"What was he saying?" She broke the silence, her voice a faint threat hanging in the air. She could not name what she was feeling, but the fact that she had not been able to understand Elladan felt like the drop that spilled the cup. She felt frustraded, desperate, a deep anger starting to boil inside of her. She knew nothing, and no one seemed to be wanting to explain anything to her.

Elrohir's kind silver eyes lifted to meet hers, so gentle and sympathetic, as if he could read her thoughts inside her own eyes. She knew the younger twin did not have the answers that she needed. She knew he knew nothing more than she did about her past, about her powers, about the reason why the Crown Prince had suddenly pushed away so bitterly, but still she could not help but feel frustrated.

"He was asking for a pain reliever, that was all."

That was all. She knew Elrohir was just trying to soothe her, to make her feel better, but she did not feel any better. Elladan had been asking her for something to relieve his pain, and she had not understood anything, had not been able to help him. The younger twin seemed to be able to read her frustration, her rage at no one specifically for he continued speaking.

"Rina, he was disoriented. He could not tell he was speaking sindarin. You could do nothing about that." Elrohir tried again, and she let her eyes meet his once more, trying to offer him a reassuring smile.

"Go get some rest." Elrohir commanded, although his voice remained as comforting and soft as ever. "Or at least go out get some fresh air. You need a break, or you are going to drown in your frustration. I will stay here, and I promise I will send for you if he wakes again, although he should sleep for some hours still."

She nodded her head, her thoughts once again a turmoil she could not put in order. She felt hurt, angry, confused, helpless, angry again. Silently she rose from the bed. She would go outside. She knew that she would not be able to sleep, no matter how tired her body felt, but at least she needed air and time to think. She grabbed a spare piece of parchment that had been lying over the small desk in the room, and something that looked like a small charcoal next to it. At least she would try to draw and distract herself. She threw Elrohir one last glance, smiling faintly in thanks before she left the room, once again walking down the narrow, empty corridor.

The door that let to the room in which her siblings were was once again half-way open, and she could not help from peeking inside. She did not know what time it was, or how many hours had gone by since the last time she had peeked at them. Arahaelon had awakened and he was now sitting on the edge of Tadion's bed, looking strong and powerful, not a single sign of the poison left in his body.

The Crown Prince's hand softly stroked his younger brother's hair, the way one does to a small child, a smile present on his handsome face, reaching his melted emerald eyes. She could see Lossenel sitting casually on her eldest brother's lap, even though there was plenty of space on the bed. She had an arm looped over his shoulders, and she could hear her saying something to her brother as she smirked, whatever she had said causing Arahaelon to laugh in return.

Tadion was also awake, siting up on the bed against the wooden headboard. He still looked pale, but he looked peaceful, much better than he had looked the night before. She could hear him joining his older sibling's conversation, adding something else in elvish only to have Arahaelon laugh louder. The sight made her smile, and at the same time made her feel a sharp pain stabbing her heart.

Tadion's clear blue eyes found her hiding behind the door, and she saw his face light up with a wide smile. Even in bandages and bedridden, he looked so carefree and content, as if nothing could ruin his fun. He lifted a hand, waving at her to enter, but she tensed. Both Arahaelon and Lossenel's eyes lifted in her direction, noticing that Tadion's attention lied somewhere else. The Crow Prince's eyes caught hers, but she did not look at them, instantly lowering her gaze to her feet, continuing her march down the corridor like a child that got caught in a place that had been forbidden to her.

She walked straight to little backyard of the building, not stopping to speak with anyone, or to glance back at the many stared she received on her way. She did not even bother in observing the small town, in looking at the people around her. She simply sat down on the couple of long stone steps that led into an open small courtyard, parchment in hand, absently starting to trace the lines of the buildings and people she saw before her eyes. She was not even thinking about what she was doing, her hand moving quickly through the page, sometimes a little bit too hard on paper as her anger boiled deeper inside of her. The drawing was not looing right, she could tell, but she did not care. No. Instead she kept dragging the little charcoal over and over again, as if trying to break the paper from the force she was applying.

The deaf sound of light footsteps alerted her that someone was approaching, but she did not turn to look. She did not need to turn to know who it was. She could see him from the corner of her eyes, his long light blond hair falling loosely down his back, his emerald eyes looking at her hesitantly. She only felt her anger rising, tears of rage threatening to form in her eyes, but she forced them back, concentrating her gaze on the poor charcoal in her hand. She could see Arahaelon standing silently behind her, simply looking at her, hesitant.

"May I sit here with you?" His voice was soft, as serene as ever, not powerful or authoritative. She did not turn to look at him, not knowing how she would react. She already felt like her emotions were too strong to hold them back or to pretend she was all right any longer.

"You may sit wherever you wish." She snapped at him, but he did not seemed surprised or hurt by her hostility. Instead, he casually lowered himself next to her, as if she had kindly invited him to join her. She focused once again on her drawing, nearly ragging at the poor piece of paper as she tried to make a specific line that she could just not get right. She was trying to take her frustration out on that line, but to her further ire, she could not seem to get it right.

Arahaelon sat in silence next to her. She could feel his melted emerald eyes staring at her softly, apologetic, hesitant, simply observing her for a while, not knowing what to say. She suddenly felt small, like a small child in the presence of her eldest brother. He just sat there, so elegant, so powerful and at the same time so patient, not complaining about her obvious rejection.

"Do you need help with that line?" He offered. Once again his voice was gentle, the musical sound incredibly calmed and patient. She snapped her eyes in his direction, her expression unfriendly as she tried her best to contain her boiling anger.

"Are you going to explain to me how to do the line correctly or are you just going to draw it and let me wonder how you did it?" She said bitterly, for the first time allowing her eyes to glare through his open and gentle emerald irises. He did not wince at her hostility, did not look hurt or provoked. His expression remained the same, calmed, his endless eyes staring at her patiently, as he hesitated for a moment, trying to think of something else to say.

"We are not talking about the drawing, are we?" So he had understood what she meant. She did not confirm his assumption, but did not deny it, instead choosing to lower her eyes once more to the paper in her hands, continuing to trace thick angry lines across it. Arahaelon let out a sigh.

"Rëa." His voice was soothing, and she once again snapped her furious eyes in his direction.

"Do not call me that." She snapped, her voice cold. Once again he did not look affected by her reaction, as if he had been expecting them. The fact that he remained so patient and open only made her ager intensify, feeling smaller and smaller next to him, feeling naïve and inexperienced next to this noble and wise Prince. Why did he not simply yell back at her, the way he had yelled the night before? I would make things easier for her, she would then be able to take out her frustration at someone, to be able to yell and scream and cry with a real reason.

"Almarëa." He tried again, but she acted as if she had not heard him. "Almarëa, please look at me."

She could not deny his request. Even in her rage, she could not say no. It was as if her body did not have the will to disobey her eldest brother, even she desperately wanted to continue to ignore his presence. Slowly, she let her eyes turn to meet his. She could already feel tears starting to for in her eyes, whether from anger, pain or exhaustion, she did not know, but she forced them back, putting on a straight face. His melted emerald eyes stared deeply at her, entirely open, apologetic, letting her all into their depths, the color of a welcoming forest in a warm summer's day.

"I am sorry." He finally said. He was sorry. She could see it clearly in his apologetic eyes, in his calmed welcoming face. And still, his honest apology did not made her feel any better.

"I forgive you." She said flatly, not really meaning her words. She knew he had caught her tone, for he lowered his eyes for a second.

"Almarëa…"He started, hesitating on what to say to her. She could feel the angry tears blurring her vision. They would come whether she wanted them to come or not. She could not understand why was it so hard for him to find his words, to simply explained to her what had happened?

"Almarëa…I did not mean to react that way last night." He started again, but she snapped her eyes up in his direction once more, unable to contain herself any longer.

"Why did you pull away from me, then?" She blurted out fiercely, the first angry tears starting to roll down her cheeks as she tried her best not to simply yell. "Why did you back away from me?"

He lowered his eyes. So that was the question he did not want to answer. She felt her anger rising more as she understood that he would not answering her question, just like all the other questions she wanted answer. No. He would just sit here, tell her he was sorry and she was supposed to forgive and forget, never receiving an explanation. Had it not worked that way ever since she arrived in Mirkwood? Why could he not simply answer her. It could not be that hard.

To her surprise he lifted his eyes to meet hers once more. Nothing in his expression had changed, emerald irises as serene and patient as before, so powerful and yet gentle. She saw him take his right hand to his left arm, hesitating for a moment before slowly rolling up the sleeved of his elegant tunic, all the way to his elbow. She simply watched him silently, unsure of what he was doing. Then, he turned his arm so that the inside of his forearm was facing up, and slowly extended it for her to see.

She continued to look into his eyes, not sure of what to do. Hesitantly, she lowered her gaze to his bare arm, not sure of what to look for. She saw nothing, just his flawless white skin. She lifted her eyes again to meet his, but he silently nodded her to look again. And she looked again, staring into his perfect pale skin, confusion replacing her anger for a moment.

And then she saw it, so faint that she had to look for a while to be sure it was not a fragment of her imagination. No. It was definitely real. There, on the inside of his left forearm was a mark, only slightly lighter than his skin color, nearly invisible. She knew elves did not scar, so this could not be the product of an old injury. She stared at it more closely, following its contour. And then it hit her. It was a handprint, a very faint tiny handprint, the size of a baby's hand. She froze, all of her anger disappearing in a second only to be replaced by shock. She needed no explanation to know whose hand it was the one imprinted permanently on her brother's arm. She could only stare into his emerald eyes, so deep and impenetrable, the lack of expression in his piercing yet gentle eyes silently confirming her assumptions. It was her hand…

Here is chapter 24! Sorry that it took me a little longer to update! The chapter is also a little longer so I hope that makes up for the wait! Please let me know what you think!

Also, again thank you so much to those of you who reviewed my latest chapter! Really you have no idea how much your comments meant to me! So as many thanks as words in this story! The Lead Mare, Luckyponygirl, Mary Elrondile, Paperlanterns86, CeffylGwyn, wonderpanda10, Jibril, AmazingWriter123, booklover1598, SarahWeasley, dindongsong, Kirschflower, Through Jaded Eyes, elizabethtran12, Martine9295, Danda225, world-classgeek, Coco99, xX-MissyMoo-Xx, and Wtiger5.

Also I want to thank Martine9295 for doing the cover image for this story!

Love,

Elena