Caras Galadhon was silent when Rian left her tâlan. She had hardly slept, the image of Thuringwethil's pale hand laying in the grass always present whether or not her eyes were open. The fingertips were blackened, scorched for some unknown reason after Thuringwethil had attacked Arien. But it was the wrong hand. It had not been the hand that held the Silmaril.

A low mist hung around Rian's ankles as she walked with her head down toward the clearing they'd feasted in on their first night in Lothlorien. She could not see any sunlight yet but hoped dawn was near so she could get her questions answered by Galadriel.

She mulled over the questions in her mind and would have passed the stables without a second thought, but a single suspicious light was lit inside, and she could hear hushed voices. Her curiosity peaked - why would someone be sneaking around the stables before dawn? She wasn't proud of it, but she was excellent at eavesdropping, and the skill with which she drew close to the open window without being detected would have made Aragorn proud.

"We need to leave now."

Rian's eyes widened when she heard Hanna's voice.

"We cannot leave without Rian and Arien."

Rian was less surprised to hear Taelen's voice since he and Hanna typically followed each other around like a Hobbit following a food platter at a party.

"Arien will just try to stop us, and Rian will do whatever Arien says." Rian made a face but didn't have time to think more about it before Taelen replied.

"At least give me some time before we leave - there is no way we can find our way to the Ice Bay without a map if we do not have Rian or Arien."

Rian didn't care to listen to more: she needed to find Arien, much to her chagrin after hearing Hanna's comment.

Arien was not in her tâlan, so Rian followed the path in the opposite direction from the stables. She walked with urgency now, not caring as she caught the eye of an Elf here and there. Morning was coming, and more activity was happening throughout Caras Galadhon. Her heart raced as she turned down several paths that led to nowhere and cursed the Elves for not giving the Dunedain maps of the interior of Caras Galadhon.

"Rian!"

She heard Haldir shout and saw him appear from behind a gaggle of Elves who were carrying several stacks of linens.

"Haldir - have you seen Arien?"

He jogged over to Rian, matching her brisk pace as she continued down the path. "She was speaking with Legolas, last I saw. But Rian, you need to know -"

"I need to find Arien, Hanna and Taelen are trying to leave -"

"Rian!"

Rian spun around, nearly knocking Haldir over and sprinted toward Arien, who mirrored her urgency.

"Rian, Gandalf fell in Moria, he -"

"Taelen and Hanna are leaving - Gandalf fell?" Rian stopped several feet in front of Arien and dropped her hands. "He's dead?"

"I am so sorry," Arien said softly, tears shining in her eyes. She closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around Rian in a tight hug.

Legolas or the Elf Rian assumed was Legolas, stood close behind Arien. He spoke as Rian let Arien hug her, his voice somber.

"There was a Balrog of Morgoth - he gave himself to save us all."

"Aragorn is here," Arien told her, pulling out of her hug but keeping her hands on Rian's arms. "I am sure talking with him could help."

Rian did not respond but nodded her head as she pulled out of Arien's gentle touch.

"I can take you to him," Haldir said, putting a hand on Rian's back.

She pulled away from him too, turning her back on Arien, and started running. She couldn't remember which path led to her tâlan, so she took paths at random. Right left, right, right, left.

Caras Galadhon blurred around her, green and silver, and terrible and dark. Everything looked dark. Rian's lungs burned from lack of breath, but she didn't notice till she stopped and fell to her knees in the middle of a secluded patch of long grass. She started tearing up the blades of green, immaculate grass, wishing they would stop waving beautifully in the breeze.

"Why did you think it was okay to die!" She shouted, twisting her face in anger. "Why are you not here to tell me why using my powers is so hard? Why did you have to sacrifice yourself for others?"

She continued to shout till her throat hurt and her knees ached. A sob broke out and she allowed her tears to fall as she curled up on the forest floor, holding her head in her arms.

Rian stayed there till she fell asleep, and when she woke she could see the midday sun shining through the Golden Mallorn leaves above her. The air was still cold, and she felt clammy as she sat up, rubbing her sleeve against her face.

"Well, you do look a mess."

Rian jumped to her feet, the dagger she carried at her hip already unsheathed and poised to strike. The imposter was a tall Elf, taller than any she'd seen, with black hair and lavish black robes. She had never seen an Elf dress in such dark colors, and it made her hesitate before spitting out,

"Leave me alone. Take your ridicule elsewhere."

The Elf ignored her and with a wave of his hand, conjured a black chair that he promptly sat in. Rian's eyes widened, and she took a step back, still holding her dagger aggressively.

"I am not here to ridicule you, Rian." He spoke again, his voice devoid of sarcasm. "I am here to help you."

"Help me?" She snarled.

"Do you not recognize me, Fëanáro?"

He smiled a tight-lipped smile at Rian, and she slowly lowered her dagger at his use of her Ranger-given name. She gazed intently at his face: age lingered in his eyes, more age than the lifetimes of the Elves. But she supposed the observation was not necessary, seeing as Elves cannot make chairs materialize.

"Are you disappointed?" She asked, narrowing her eyes. She did not sheath her dagger.

"I do not prefer one way or the other. I suppose you would like an introduction?"

"I would like to be alone, but since it does not seem like you are planning to leave," she gestured at him sitting casually in the chair he conjured, "would you prefer I call you Mandos or Namos?" She grimaced internally: there was no one in all the realms of Middle Earth that could make her call him father.

"Whatever suits you."

Rian was only slightly alarmed when the smirk on his face was so clearly the same smirk she often gave Aragorn when they spared.

"Why are you here?" She asked.

"You seemed to require assistance."

Out of everything he'd said thus far, Rian believed this the least.

"Assistance?" Rian's voice was as sharp as the dagger in her hand, "You choose now to offer me assistance? When you have allowed the person who mattered most to me to be taken away?"

"You wish Mithrandir was still here?" He cocked his head to the side, but Rian could tell it was not in mockery. "Do you think he can answer all of your questions? Do you think he would?"

She did not answer right away. She knew to say yes would be a lie, but not even when she practiced with Taelen did she imagine it meant she would never practice with Gandalf, no matter how angry she was with him.

"Do you think you can answer my questions better than him?" She finally asked.

"I know I can."

"Then tell me why I, of all the children of the Valar, was raised with no knowledge of who I am and why I am here."

"There are many things you do not understand," he closed his eyes, looking almost as pained as Rian, "I would never have chosen the life you have had if I had any better option."

Rian didn't want to admit it, but sincerity was falling off him in waves.

"Rian," his voice was soft, "You have every right to be upset. No one blames you for feeling this way, especially Mithrandir. But let me help you move forward. Let me help you."

Rian sat cross-legged on the grass and stuck her dagger in the ground in front of her. "Is Valinor beautiful?"

"It is the most beautiful place you can imagine."

"Describe it to me."

More than an hour passed of their odd conversation. Rian mostly listened, picturing the lush green mountains of Valinor, the looming halls of Mandos, the Silver palace of Manwe and Varda - every inch as it was described by her Father. Their conversation seemed untouched by reality, and she was sure at any moment she would wake up.

"Gandalf was right to be afraid of your powers."

Rian was snapped out of her peaceful stupor by his statement.

"Why?" She asked, "He could face a Balrog to protect his companions. I could barely cut off Thuringwethil's hand - and even then it was the wrong one."

"You saved your companions when they could not see, as best you could against an opponent who had laid her trap." He looked at her intensely. "But, I will remind you to trust in yourself. You are capable of more than you know." He stood and the dark chair he'd conjured vanished.

"You are leaving?"

"There are many things I must do," he reached into his black robes and pulled out a red pendant strung on a thin, black chain. "I want you to wear this. It has my blessing, and you may find it aids you to develop your powers."

Rian took the necklace, the cold metal heavy in her hand. There was something inscribed on the black metal that held the stone to the chain, but she could not read what she assumed was an ancient text.

"Thank you." She did not immediately put it on, eyeing the brilliant red stone. It looked almost like something moved inside it.

"Do not grieve too much for Mithrandir, Rian." He moved almost close enough that she could reach out and touch him, but the feeling made her uneasy despite the comforting words he spoke. "His spirit is strong and shall dwell in my halls until Manwë calls him forth once more."

Rian closed her eyes, bowing her head as she felt a single tear roll down her cheek. When she looked up he was gone. The darkness that she'd seen as she ran through Caras Galadhon was gone too, but the pain in her chest was not. She still would mourn for Gandalf.

Rian began the trek back to find Arien, assuming the latter had found Hanna and Taelen and stopped them from leaving. As she walked she fingered the necklace suspiciously, holding it up so it caught the light. Decidedly she put it on the ground and took her stance she had practiced with Taelen, moving two fingers around in a circle, creating a small flame in her hand. The flame flickered, and she wanted to groan under the effort of trying to maintain it before she gave in and extinguished it. Rian could almost hear Taelen saying "again" as she reached for the necklace. She put the chain around her neck and let the stone rest against her chest under her shirt. It had been cold when she held it in her hands, but against her chest, it was almost hot. She liked the feeling.

With a deep breath, she retook her practiced stance, circling her two fingers around her palm. Immediately a large flame - larger than any she'd made before - flared up, almost scorching her eyebrows. She stumbled backward, putting the fire out by merely closing her palm around it. She felt no strain - no exhaustion. This was how she imagined working on her powers with Gandalf would be. Easier, more natural.

She bowed her head, placing a hand over the spot where the pendant laid under her shirt and thanked her father for his gift. She also sent a prayer to Valinor, hoping somehow the message would reach Gandalf and he would know she was sorry and that she would visit him when she could return to the spirit halls of her father.

Melkor will pay for your death, Gandalf. I will send him to his grave with my own hands if I must.

It was the first time she had thought to pray. She'd seen Aragorn do it many times but never felt the need. Now it granted her some peace that Gandalf would know she forgave him.

She'd not thought long about their argument after she left Rivendell. It wasn't common for her to dwell on concerns she couldn't see. But it had resurfaced when she practiced with Taelen in Lothlorien, her lack of ability to manipulate her powers causing the root of her anger toward Gandalf to resurface. Her father had said Gandalf was right to be afraid of her powers - maybe the Wizard had been right to hide them from her. And she wasn't about to complain about the skills the Dunedain had taught her.

Elves skirted around her as Rian traced the path she'd taken out of the center of Caras Galadhon. She guessed they'd heard about Gandalf as well or seen her reaction first-hand.

It wasn't hard to find Arien. She was sitting alone under the canopy of an artfully crafted gazebo, her hands holding a wrinkled handkerchief, and several of her hairpins had fallen out of place.

"Rian!" Arien stood when she saw her, hesitating before motioning for Rian to join her. "I've been worried about you."

"I am alright," Rian patted Arien's shoulder awkwardly, trying to relieve the apparent distress the latter felt. She did not want to share the pain of losing Gandalf with her companions any more than she had to, though she was sure Taelen would pull it out of her eventually. "Did you stop Taelen and Hanna?"

Arien shook her head and slumped back into her seat. "There was no trace of them when I made it to the stables. I can only assume they are headed to the Ice Bay in the North."

"Then we must follow them."

"I am afraid I do not think it would be wise for me to leave Lothlorien at this time."

Rian, who was poised in the path to run to her tâlan, turned to Arien in surprise. Arien's face was flushed, and she wouldn't make eye contact with Rian.

"What do you mean?"

"I think there is something...wrong with me."

"Wrong with you?" Rian couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I saw you after the fight with Thuringwethil, the light healed you, and -"

"And you do not think it is unsettling to have wounds healed by a light coming out of your chest?"

"Yes, but -"

"And have you stopped to think about what other light might have that kind of power? And what I might jeopardize if I bring myself close to the enemy again?"

Rian narrowed her eyes, looking at Arien's head closely for any kind of injury. Did she really think she held a Silmaril inside her? "I admit it had not been the first thing on my mind."

"I cannot leave Lothlorien. I might lose another Silmaril."

"We all lost the Silmaril - it was not you alone that faced Thuringwethil." Rian wanted to feel sympathy for Arien, but anger boiled up in her chest.

"I do not want to have the mission fail because of me!"

"You can stay here, and think whatever you deem best about the light and whether or not you feel you can risk your chest getting hurt again." Rian huffed and started walking away, "But we may fail without you there."

She turned to face Arien, who was leaning against one of the pillars of the gazebo. Her usual calm demeanor was replaced with despair, and her hair hung limp around her clouded face.

"I know this is your first time being afraid of something," Rian called to her, "but I would have thought you would stand to face it, not hide from it."