A week after Taliesin was laid to rest, the weather was still fair. The nights were chilly, a harbinger of the winter; but the days still echoed with the warmth and color of autumn. Seren rose from her bed and stopped to draw in a deep breath from her balcony before pulling on a simple dress the color of sage green. She liked the corset lacing in the back. The ties were a deep brown and they matched the leaf-patterned embroidery that decorated the neckline, shoulders and hems. The reinforced vertical stitching around the ribs offered more support than the softer dresses she'd been given and yet was still flexible and moved with her.

She also had an array of trousers, shirts and shifts in varying colors of rust orange, deep berry, various tones of earth and some striking shades of green, but the fabric was a bit abrasive to her skin in tender places. She'd have to ask about how she could acquire sturdier undergarments. But for now, the dress would do. She picked up the brush Caireann had given her when she first arrived and admired the polished silver swirls laid into the wood. After she brushed and plaited her long red tresses, she padded down to her foyer and opened the door. She returned to her balcony, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine and waited. She didn't have to wait long.

Soft footsteps sounded in the corridor, followed by Ceridwen's appearance a moment later. She was holding a try of food aloft, as usual. The healer mounted the steps from the foyer and strolled to the table she always set Seren's breakfast on.

"How are you?" the elf asked, appraising the other woman's appearance.

Seren sighed and turned from the view outside. "Same as I've been since yesterday. And the day before that… and all the days you have asked. I'm left to wonder why you keep doing so." She smiled fondly.

Ceridwen returned the expression. "I keep doing so because one day, the answer will be different." Suddenly her smile widened over her features. "And I do believe today is that day."

Seren thought about that. Thus far, when Ceridwen asked about her, the reply Seren gave was 'I'm still here.' It was a lament against the reality of her situation; to the elves who worried she would slip away from despair and to Tal for leaving her behind. She always looked to the direction of his burial site and her eyes never failed to sting; 'I'm still here…'

Today was no different. Yet she was up with the sun and ready for the day long before the healer arrived. Usually breakfast was left for her to eat in silence. The elves seemed to be giving her space, presumably to grieve – and she had – but she didn't want to spend the day sobbing over how alone she was because her brother was gone. Perhaps that was what changed. Today, wallowing in her grief didn't feel like a compulsion she couldn't contain and seemed more like a torture she didn't wish to put herself through if she could help it.

"Have you eaten, Ceridwen?"

The elf blinked, clearly not expecting the response. "I see to my patients before I take my morning meal."

"I'm your last patient." It was true. Ceridwen saw to everyone else before checking in on Seren and bringing her more fruit, bread and cream than she could eat.

"Come; break your fast with me. I could use the company."

"And where would we sit?"

Seren looked around eagerly, her long braid swinging around her. She had no chairs as she usually just sat on the bed. That would have to be remedied. She pointed to the area of the merlot colored rug, bathed in the morning light. "The floor should do this once."

She retrieved the tray while Ceridwen sat in front of the balcony's arch. Once Seren had settled herself and had an apple wedge half way to her lips, the healer abruptly shook her head.

"What?"

Ceridwen smiled. "I didn't think you were serious."

Seren sighed and smiled simultaneously, a calm expression. "Of course I was serious." Her smiled faded and she inhaled a long breath. "I'm just tired of being alone."

Ceridwen laid a gentle hand on Seren's shoulder. "You've needed the time to heal. There are many who would love to meet you properly."

"Really? That's… surprising." Seren lowered her head as she mumbled.

"Is it?"

"Well… everyone had a chance to say what they wanted the night we buried Tal and the others."

Ceridwen nibbled on a grape. "True, but they haven't really met you. They're very curious about you: a human from another realm – a realm of flying machines – and one that has harnessed the light of angry gods? One who makes the trees sway in the wind with a touch, who haunts the libraries at night and who doesn't call our king by his title? They're very intrigued," Ceridwen finished with a smirk.

Seren flushed. "I don't know what happened with the trees during the burial." Indeed, no one seemed to have any idea what occurred. She had decided it was a weather oddity like what happened before at the doorway but Thranduil and Legolas had both looked her as if she'd grown a second head. Thankfully she hadn't been expected to stay once the Time Of Recollection had ended and she took the opportunity to flee back to her rooms with Ceridwen's guidance and cried until her head hurt and exhaustion claimed her.

She returned her attention to the present. "I'm in the libraries at night because I feel like I'm in the way during the day." She shifted uncomfortably and glanced at her friend. "I also found what I think is a child's learning card for written Elvish. I've been using it for a project."

Ceridwen grinned. "If you wish to learn, I can see that you are taught."

Seren nodded after a moment. "I'd like that." She tried to leave her reply at that but Ceridwen looked at her expectantly until she caved. "As for the king…" She huffed as the elf grinned. "Where I'm from, royal families are rare and those that exist are symbolic more than anything. The time of kings is a distant memory. I'm simply not accustomed to having a king to answer to or address and so I keep forgetting. I'll remember it one of these days."

Ceridwen sighed, a faraway look in her gaze. "Such a strange place, your Earth; tell me about it."

For the next hour, they passed the time eating and idly chatting about Seren's world and how it compared to Middle Earth and Seren took the opportunity to regale the healer with Legolas's experiences on Earth. The tale about the cooking knives amused her greatly. Soon enough however, Ceridwen had to return to her duties and Seren insisted she would find her way and take the tray down to the kitchens.

Or rather, she tried to. The cavern she now called home was vast and she had to double back from more than one dead end and wrong turn. As she wandered, she met many elves who startled when they saw her. Some clasped their breast and bowed their heads before continuing on and others walked alongside her for a while asking and answering questions. Like Ceridwen, they were fascinated by what they heard of Seren's realm and only too glad to satisfy Seren's curiosity about their home. Once satisfied, they wandered back to whatever task they had left unfinished.

Her most recent visitor was a young girl of maybe ten years and possessed of a meter's length of pale golden locks. As they walked and Seren answered still more questions, she found herself following the child as they strolled. She kept Seren talking so much that she hadn't really noticed. Suddenly the scent of fresh baked bread filled the air and at the end of the hall they were in, a door stood open. The girl led her to it.

"You can put your tray in here," she said brightly, the pointed tips of her ears flushing red.

They entered a vast room with three small stone doors set chest high on the far wall. An elf opened one and Seren saw golden rounds of bread within. The room was hot and smelled strongly of spices and yeast. A long, wide wooden counter dominated the center of it. There were elves kneading dough and chopping and mixing things there while more were perusing a tall shelf of ingredients. It rose to the ceiling high above and a rolling ladder allowed them to reach little catwalks for one of three levels of shelves. A basket on a pulley at the end allowed them to send down their selections so they could climb the ladder with both hands. Opposite the pantry and near the door, a rack of wine bottles stood, glittering like a setting of rubies bearing every shade of red.

"Wow." Seren looked around her. The kitchen was a bright and warm space. The elves called out to each other in a good humor, though Seren didn't understand the words.

"Menui!" A plainly dressed elven woman with gray eyes and brown hair approached them and paused when she noticed Seren.

Seren waved and smiled. "Hello."

The other woman smiled when she saw the empty platter. "It's about time you managed to finish a full breakfast! I was beginning to think I'd have to complain to Lord Thranduil that his guest was being wasteful."

Seren's eyes went round. "Oh! I do eat – It just takes me some time and they remove the tray before I'm done…" Seren blinked.

The woman was chuckling. "It's alright dear. I was more concerned that you weren't eating enough." She took the tray and laughed as Seren stood there looking confused. "It's good to see you've an appetite now." She placed a hand on the child's back. "I see you've met my daughter, Menui."

Seren smiled down at the girl. "So that's your name?" A nod was her only answer.

"My name is Seren."

"I know," the girl said. "Is that all of your name?"

Seren's eyebrows rose. "Well no. My family name is Evans. My given name is Seren Aneira."

"It's a pretty name," Menui decided with a grin. Then she looked up at her mother. "Wait until the others hear I met the human!"

The girl scampered from the kitchen, leaving the two women giggling.

"She has been so curious about you," the elven woman said. She placed a hand over her chest and dipped her head. "I am Nuineri, First In Order of this kitchen."

"Wait…this kitchen? How many are there?"

Nuineri laughed. "Fifty six; a kingdom this large requires a lot of food," she added at Seren's look of shock.

"How many live here?"

Nuineiri's expression became distant and she went to a shelf, picking two empty baskets and handing one to Seren. "We need some vegetables from the gardens. Will you accompany me?"

"Of course."

They wandered the halls and Seren studied them politely, having given up on memorizing every turn. They'd descended many stairs and Seren waited while her companion considered her thoughts.

"We once numbered just over eleven thousand…" the elf said as they reached a long room with a high ceiling and four doors. The light peeking through the bottom of each was sunlight and they went through the nearest one out into the daylight.

"But the king took seven thousand to the battle at Erebor. Barely half that number returned."

A population reduced by nearly a third… Seren winced. "I am sorry. That's awful…" She gazed around her at the wild and overgrown path they were on and considered her companion's words. They were heavy with grief. "You lost someone to that battle," Seren stated.

Nuineri glanced wide-eyed at the human. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you'd pick up on that. The loss of blood kin is so recent for you."

The corners of Seren's mouth rose in a sad smile as she continued to watch the stone they traveled over.

"My husband fell in that battle. As did my brother – it's been five years…"

Seren closed her eyes against images of her own brother's demise. "Does it get any easier?"

Now it was Nuineri who smiled. "Elves live for so long… we grieve very deeply and for many years. The passage of eternity is eased by those we love so each loss takes away some of the light that makes our time on Arda endurable. I suspect you know that loss is never a light burden. Elves have given up their physical forms from the despair of it. But when you lose the last person you have to lose, no burden is heavier. Without Menui, I might not have been here to chide you for your habit of leaving a half-eaten breakfast."

Both women smiled about that.

"You must find your own reason for continuing on."

"I'm still searching," Seren replied.

The path sloped upwards and when they crested a gentle round hill, Seren saw the vegetable garden. It was vast. Neatly cultivated rows spread before them and Nuineri led Seren to the rows of beets and carrots.

"I will get the beets," Nuineri said. "Fill the basket with as many carrots as you can." The elf started to turn away but she doubled back a moment later. "I'm sorry. I've assumed you are familiar with this. Do you need me to show you which are ready for picking?"

She seemed so abashed and concerned that Seren laughed. "No. I've kept a garden most of my life, including carrots."

"Oh good!"

Nuineri returned to the beets and Seren put herself to the task of pulling up orange stalks. She didn't mind the dirt or the bugs, finding a fascination with everything that grew. It might have been her brother's idea to plant a garden all those years ago but he wasn't the one with a green thumb. This was familiar. She knew when a plant's fruit was ready to be plucked and she knew when a garden was ill. The stretch of manicured rows, pretty as they were, showed signs of a fungal rot. The soil carried a scent of something pungent that it shouldn't have and she spotted the occasional mushroom cap. She decided to ask Nuineri about procuring tea tree oil. She chuckled to herself when she thought she might have to explain what it was. Not everything here had the same name or use as she knew it to have.

In the distance from where she worked, the clearing was fenced in at the back by a dense thicket of brambles and dead trees. Seren stopped more than once to look in that direction. The strange tugging in her mind had diminished to a low pressure in the days since Tal's burial and she had nearly forgotten it, thinking it a passing oddity. Now, however, it pulsed in her awareness whenever she stared at the bent and gnarled bark in the distance. The urge to cross the field felt like it was imperative, as if she had heard a cry for help.

"Ah! Good!" Nuineri exclaimed as she returned and saw the basket full of carrots. When she noticed where Seren's attention was focused, her smile faded.

"Do you not feel it?" Seren asked her, looking from the briar patch to the elf.

"I feel sad when I gaze in that direction."

Seren shook her head. "No… I mean something else…"

"Like what?"

Before Seren could consider how to explain, Menui called from across the field. "Mother!" The child sounded distraught and she ran as fast as she was able. "Mother!"

Seren could see she held a tiny soil pot in her hands and the girl was crying. Nuineri bent a knee to the ground and caught her daughter as she all but collapsed from her frantic run.

"Look!"

Menui held up her little pot and Seren could see a seedling drooping within. "No matter what I do, my Niphredil keeps dying! I wanted it to bloom for winter!" Menui sobbed and let Seren take the tiny pot from her as she buried her face in her mother's neck and cried.

Nuineri sighed and embraced her daughter, her gaze on Seren as she studied the plant. In her hands, it felt like a tiny flame that was dying out. She brought it to her nose. "You used the soil from here in the garden?"

Both Menui and Nuineri looked at her. "We did," Nuineri said.

She sniffed it again. "I can't be certain but I think there is a fungal infection in it. I kept finding mushrooms as I picked carrots."

Nuineiri's face went slack in shock. "What? We've already lost two of our crops this year to this."

"Do you have any tree oils? Something strong and that smells almost like mint?"

The elf's face registered confusion. "We've tried that. The quantities we'd need to use would kill the crops as surely as the infection." Then her eyes went wide. "We should apply it to the other crops as a preventative! I've been so busy with harvest, I didn't think of it!"

Seren smiled and then returned her attention to the ailing plant in her hands. Suddenly, a shudder of strange energy cascaded through her and an unfamiliar stillness fell over her mind. She breathed over the little leaves and the seedling stood up from the prodding. As her lungs expelled the air, something from within her pressed against the awareness of the Niphredil. When she stopped, it remained standing.

Menui gasped and gently caressed a green leaf. The stalk allowed the pressure without buckling. "It's strong!"

Seren blinked, feeling though she was waking from a dream. She stared at the plant, now standing on its own.

"How did you do that?" Nuineri asked as she examined it.

"I don't know." It was an answer Seren was beginning to tire of but she had no explanation. The seedling was looking alert and Seren imagined it already appeared larger as she handed it back to Menui.

"Thank you!" She hugged Seren and backed off a moment later, smiling down at her plant.

Nuineri was still watching her and Seren chewed on her bottom lip. She gazed down at her hands. The elf tentatively touched the skin of her palm, frowning when nothing happened.

"What are you?"

Seren shrugged and for the first time, she had to believe that perhaps there was something strange about her. "All of my life I've been an ordinary human."

"All of your life, you've lived in a world without magic," Nuineri replied with a smile. "Perhaps here, in Middle Earth, you are not so ordinary."

The thought frightened and intrigued Seren and she considered what it could mean as they gathered up the baskets, now brimming with beets and carrots, and headed inside. Menui took off, chattering excitedly about showing her friends the Niphredil.

One of Nuineri's kitchen staff was waiting for the First In Order and immediately began a conversation about the night's menu so Seren let them draw ahead of her and followed through the network of walkways and stairs at a leisurely pace. She was glad when they rose from the dank lower floors to the brighter and warmer levels.

She had just passed through the main floor landing and turned toward the kitchen when a shadow fell into place beside her.

"I trust you are being treated well?"

Her insides jumped at the sudden presence and deep tone as Thranduil fell into step next to her. She spared a glance his way, having to raise her head more than she remembered for his height and found herself appraising his appearance. He was dressed in a long shimmering gold tunic with a high collar that he left open and a crown of berries and twigs stood up from the back of his head, arching down over his ears and framing his cheekbones.

Finally she met his gaze and was struck with just how bright his eyes were. Following Tal's death, she had been too preoccupied but seeing him again, this close, she found him imposing and the faint scent of cloves drifted to her from the strands of white blond hair as they walked. She liked cloves. Abruptly she forced her attention back to the approaching kitchen door.

"Hmm," she pretended to think about his words. "I've not been out much but what time I have spent among your people has been pleasant."

Thranduil kept his gaze ahead. "Good. Ceridwen tells me you've been absent from your chambers since breakfast. And your," he paused and she had to turn back a step, "labors are obvious."

It sounded casual enough but Seren felt as if she was being measured and couldn't help the blush that crept over her cheeks because of her appearance. Her dress was covered in dirt patches and she knew she likely had bits of earth in her hair from her habit of tucking back flyaways regardless of whether her hands were clean.

"I was helping Nuineri in the garden, picking root vegetables. I like carrots."

Thranduil's gaze fell to the basket in her arms and he seemed to consider them. "Beets on the other hand…"

He cast a glance down the now-empty hall at the open kitchen door. His features pinched into the same sour expression that had made Seren smile before and a giggle escaped her. When he looked at her, eyebrow raised, she clamped down on the grin.

"Sorry," she said half swallowing air and giggles. "I don't like beets either."

He inhaled sharply. "So is this what you do?" He began walking again, clasping his hands behind his back and she kept pace with him.

"Painting was how I made a living." A sobering thought struck her and she mumbled, "Though I suppose it's not a very useful skill here… Gardening has always been a leisure hobby for me. In recent years, I was growing a greater variety of vegetables so I wouldn't have to go into town as often for food."

Thranduil tilted his head once in approval. "Self-sufficiency is a worthwhile endeavor."

They reached the kitchen door and Seren turned to pause, expecting the elvenking to take his leave. Instead he walked past her and into the stuffy room. It was telling that none of the elves stopped in their work to address him or acknowledge him beyond a polite "Excuse me," as they slipped around him to continue their tasks. She spotted Nuineri waving her over to a large pot boiling on a fire and she did as bade. The carrots were lifted from her and dumped unceremoniously into a nearby sink where two elves began scrubbing them and handing them to off to another pair of elves to be sliced and added to the pot.

When Seren turned back to Thranduil, he was picking and nibbling morsels from a sweet roll as he surveyed the kitchen. Seren couldn't help it; her grin returned. After a moment, he seemed to sense her attention.

She ducked her head and chuckled. "You don't care for beets and you slip down here before dinner and sneak a sweet roll?"

He paused and then swallowed. "I like them," he said a little defensively.

Nuineri and a few who had stopped when Seren spoke, grinned and then turned to hide their expressions, some trading sly glances between each other.

"Is that a problem?" Thranduil asked, his head tilting ever so slightly.

Seren shook her head and looked down at her shoes. She managed to restrain another giggle but her smile wouldn't fade. Finally she looked up. "Of course not, my lord."

At that, his lips parted and his brows rose a little and then his eyes narrowed skeptically. "Have you been practicing that?"

Seren winced. "More than I want to admit."

Now it was his turn to smirk. "Of all the revelations you could offer, that is the one I'm least interested in."

Seren inhaled deeply. Thranduil wanted talk. "Of course." Nuineri nodded when she looked to her and Seren took long purposeful strides from the kitchen.

The king didn't immediately follow her and when he did appear, he had another sweet roll. She didn't know why she found it so amusing but she had to bite her cheek and stared ahead, waiting for their walk to begin.

However, he called her name and when she turned, she saw he actually had two of the rolls and held one out for her. "Compliments of Nuineri," he said when she hesitated.

"Thank you." She took it and tore a small piece from the warm bread and started walking. When the morsel touched her tongue, she stared at the roll.

"They are quite good," the king said.

"They are," Seren agreed, choking on a well of sudden emotion. "It's reminiscent of Tal's honey bread." When will everything stop reminding me of him? She sighed, forcing the thought away, putting another piece of the roll in her mouth.

They walked for a time in silence, passing doors and stairs. Whenever someone happened upon them, they paused and bowed their heads to Thranduil with an utterance of "My lord," before continuing on. It was surreal for Seren to see such casual observation of their king when she could barely manage to use his title directly.

When they entered a set of empty stairs and started up, Thranduil finally spoke. "I can't help noting that you had made considerable efforts to remove yourself from the humans around you on Earth. Why?"

Seren blinked. It wasn't the question she expected. "I simply preferred the company of my family. In their absence, I was content to be alone."

"I think there is more to it than that."

She stopped and turned toward him a little. He was gazing at her in that focused way he had and she cursed herself for forgetting what he said about seeing more than others did.

"I find most people… trying to be around." She resumed their path up the stairs, thinking how to phrase the real reason she hadn't liked her neighbors. "Humans can be kind and courageous and generous to a fault…"

"Why do I sense a contradiction in your words?" Thranduil asked smoothly.

Seren swallowed. They rounded another flight of stairs and she idly wondered how high up the mountain they were. "When I was sick, and all treatments had failed, I was sent home to be with my family."

"To die…"

She stopped and looked at him. "Yes." In the deserted staircase, that one whispered word seemed to echo loudly. From this height, all of the sounds from the kitchen and other busy areas had faded away.

"Everyone in my town was… so ready to make their condolences. Businesses were placing orders for the impending funeral – florists ordered lilies by the dozen, caterers put their extra staff on standby… Even our neighbors were buying additional food to bring dishes to my soon-to-be grieving parents and anyone who knew me was planning the poetic words they would speak about my 'precious life' over my casket."

Suddenly she realized her eyes were misting and her cheeks had grown warm with the memory. She wiped savagely at her face as she continued up another flight of stairs, leaving the king to follow silently.

"You can imagine how surprised everyone was when my death never came and my health returned. Instead of being happy all of their preparations were for naught, they scorned my family. Ever since, the town decided something had to be strange about me. I hadn't done what I was expected to do. The shops lamented the loss of their goods. Other children gave me terrible nicknames and my parents heard no end of poorly concealed conversations complaining of the money people had wasted – how dare I have the indecency to continue living!"

Thranduil kept silent. He was solemn but he couldn't understand this event in Seren's life as elves didn't grow sick like humans did. Human greed and pettiness, however, those he understood quite well.

She stopped again, studying his features critically. "Well… needless to say, it was nearly impossible to show my face before them for a time. That mountain was my home and I refused to be bullied into leaving so I stayed away from the town and did everything I could to not need to come down."

Suddenly a wave of homesickness struck her and she sat on the steps, staring at the wall before her and wondering what Thranduil would ask next.

The elvenking took the last step to a landing and wandered to a doorway, looking down the hall it led to. He thought over the story he'd just heard, analyzing it.

"What disease brought you so close to death?"

Seren didn't look at him. "It's called leukemia. It's a wasting disease, a cancer of the blood. The only treatment is to kill the part of the body responsible for producing blood and replace it with donor tissue. It's a dangerous and damaging procedure and many die attempting it. The weaker one is, the higher the likelihood of death. I had two such treatments before I couldn't tolerate another."

Thranduil wondered if she was lying to him now but he could detect no deception in her. "Such a thing does not seem possible."

Seren turned to him and scoffed. "Legolas thought someone's bare hands and a plant could save my brother – are we really going to argue over what seems possible to whom?"

Thranduil acknowledged the difference of perspective with a smirk. "I'd prefer not to argue with you. I've seen your world, the weapons and the machines that have been built… Legolas has told me everything about his time there, yet your words are difficult for me to believe."

This was where she felt fundamentally alienated from the elves. Something as basic as the truths of the worlds they lived in were opposite to hers, as it was the other way around. "No more than it is for me to believe in magical plants and enchanted weapons."

She saw the corner of Thranduil's mouth crease upward from her vantage of his profile. She drew in a deep breath. "You will simply have to accept there are some things in my world beyond your ken."

Now he looked at her, debating with himself over whether to remark on her bold tone or counter with a reply. "I could say the same to you. You deny the power you've displayed is your own doing, even as new instances arise. In this world, there is much that someone from a land without magic wouldn't think to consider possible."

Seren stood, rising to the last step. "How am I supposed to accept that I did these things – things I've never been able to do before – that are established as the sort of talents only wizards and elves possess? Even here, I should not be capable of doing any of the things you claim."

Thranduil frowned. "It is no mere claim, Seren. You live among creatures of magic. When magic is used, it is felt. During the incident at the doorway and at the burial we all felt the source of it coming from you."

"But… I'm human."

He tilted his head, meaningfully. "You look human but I'm convinced there is more to you than what we see." He watched her as she shook her head and turned away. "At first I was willing to entertain the possibility that it was a phenomenon of the doorway, that you had absorbed some if its magic and it was bleeding away on its own. The proximity in time to your crossing it and the first instance being the most powerful supported that assumption."

Seren gazed warily at him. "But you've disregarded this hypothesis?"

Thranduil's stare went flat and inscrutable. "Before I left the kitchen, Menui showed me her Niphredil."

Seren's eyes fell closed. "Of course she did…"

Now he moved close to her, circling. "You cannot tell me it wasn't your doing. Aside from the obvious reasons, no one here has such ability."

"I'm not trying to hide it, Thranduil!" She faced him, green eyes sparking with annoyance and turned to watch him as he walked. "I don't know how I did it, but I also can't deny that it was me."

He looked away from her but continued his slow circular strides. "There may be clues in your past, clues you may have dismissed as a meaningless oddity, which might give me more insight."

Seren sighed. "Then I suppose I should start by telling you about the night I died."

At this, Thranduil stopped and turned fully toward her, eyes wide. "You died?"

She nodded. "Even now, it's a tale I'm not sure I believe. It defies all logic."

"Your logic, perhaps; please… tell me."

She dragged in a long breath, thinking where she could start.

"Momma, I want to see the stars."

"It's too cold out there, Seren." Brenna smiled as her daughter pouted dramatically.

"But I haven't seen the snow or the sky since the snow fell – pleeeease mom?"

"I wanna go outside!" Tal chimed in.

Their father chuckled as he entered the room. "I think it's a grand idea. It's what she wants, Brenna."

Their mother smiled sadly. "Okay. I've been outvoted. We'll go out – but just for a little while. Seren can't handle the cold for too long."

Together they bundled themselves in warm clothes and took off for a hike up the mountain.

When Marc spotted a constellation, he asked Seren and Tal which it was.

"Orion!"

"It's Pisces, Tal," Seren yawned.

"I think it's time to get someone back to her bed," Brenna said.

"No! Not yet!" Seren begged her, "Just a little while longer? I want to make a snow angel."

Her brother raced to a clear spot and lay down. Seren kicked snow in his face when he declared himself the winner of a race she hadn't agreed to run. They lay in the snow, gazing up at the stars and talking about what constellations thought about people who watched them.

"Where did that star come from?" Seren pointed high above and toward the eastern peak of the mountain.

Her father frowned. "I don't know. Strange… it wasn't there yesterday."

"It had to be," Brenna said. "Stars don't just appear at random."

"Maybe it's an alien," Tal said.

"Don't be ridiculous, Taliesin," Seren shot back.

"Then what do you think it is?"

"I don't know…" Her eyes began to feel heavier and heavier but she stared up at that star. A thought that wasn't her own drifted through her mind but she didn't understand it. She took ever deeper breaths and felt her heart slow as consciousness drifted further away. "It's alive… and it has something important to say…"

"Alive?" Tal raised himself up to look at her, eyes widening when he saw she was slipping into sleep.

Seren stared at the bright pinprick of light as it seemed to fill her vision. "I just have to listen…"

She didn't hear him shout. Her mind and her vision were filled with light. The star came to her. She was falling into forever and she held onto it, not wanting to be lost. Knowledge, thought and emotion filled her and carried her away to the land of dreams where trees glowed and beautiful music filled the air. A voice sent her back to the world she left and she was simply Seren once more.

When she woke, she was in her favorite PJs and sunshine streamed in through her window. Her IV port had been removed and she wasn't attached to any of her monitoring nodes. Her parents always attached the monitors before going to bed.

"Mom? Dad?" She rose from her covers and the ease of the movement surprised her. Then she noticed her skin: it was no longer pale and bruised. She rushed to her little standing mirror and gasped at the sight: a healthy pink girl stared back at her.

"I don't look sick anymore!" She ran from the room. "Mom! Dad! I don't look sick anymore!" Then she stopped. "I can run?" She laughed and tore off to her parents' bedroom.

Tal scampered from the front yard where his parents were speaking to each other over coffee and wiped tears from his face. He entered the hallway and stopped, shock making him scream when he saw Seren.

Brenna and Marc went running when they heard their son and had a similar reaction. Tal was hugging Seren.

"It can't be!" Brenna said. "Marc, please tell me you see this! I can't be hallucinating!"

Marc fell to his knees and beckoned Seren to him, eyes filled with tears. A moment later Seren was in his arms and he cried into her shoulder.

"Daddy? Are you alright?"

Brenna knelt to look at her daughter. "He's fine, honey – better than fine."

"So am I!" She said brightly and held up her pink arms. "Look! I don't feel sick! And I can run!"

Suddenly Brenna wrapped herself around them and wept. Taliesin joined them and the family remained there for many moments. He kissed his sister's forehead, thanking the stars for granting his wish.

"They said I had died that night, up there on the mountain. There was no breath in my lungs or heartbeat, so they took me home and laid me in my bed and waited for morning to begin funeral preparations. They were quite surprised when I woke up. I told them about the star that had come to me. Of course, they thought it was merely a child's fancy even though the mysterious new star was gone from the sky. Being six years old, it was perfectly reasonable to me to believe it had cured me like Tal had asked. We never told the doctor about the incident. It just sounded… too much like magic."

She huffed out a silent laugh and looked at Thranduil. He was thinking hard about what he'd heard and there were any number of questions he could ask but none seemed to offer a hope of answers.

"The star that came to you, did it have a name?"

Seren shook her head. "I just remember feeling like there was an entire lifetime of emotion in it, the greatest focus of which was for these trees that gave off light."

"Light?" The mention of such trees intrigued Thranduil. In elvish lore, there were only two trees that had ever given any kind of light.

Seren closed her eyes, trying to see them in her mind. "One that gave off golden light, and the other one –"

"Silver."

Seren opened her eyes to find Thranduil's gaze narrowed on her. He seemed disturbed.

She swallowed. "Yes. Have you seen such trees?"

"Not with my own eyes." A thought struck him and he went to the doorway, firelight flickering on his face from the torches in the corridor. "There's something I wish to show you."

Seren followed out into the hallway and they walked in silence. She was curious enough to have questions but the silence after so much discussion was a welcome reprieve and she simply took in the new surroundings as they walked.

The hallway let out into a vast cavern that offered more halls and she was led to one on the left, back in the direction of the main hall. They were high above Thranduil's throne however and the place he led her was to the large golden doors she had seen on her fist day here. Gold armored elves stood at attention and let Thranduil pass without comment or salutation as he opened the doors.

It wasn't the king's chambers as Seren had surmised that first day, but a vast round room filled with beams of sunlight spilling through carved openings in the stone. Gold accented everything and caught the light, making the room brighter than the light that it had would otherwise allow. The floor was a pale vanilla shade of rock and etched with a circular lotus pattern in the center. Arrayed around the edge of the room were shelves of books and scrolls. Cabinets with artifacts lined the wall behind them and there were many tables and desks set in nooks on the far end of the room.

"This is our treasury of knowledge," Thranduil said by way of introduction. "Few have unfettered access to this room. It is closely guarded for the secrets and wealth of knowledge it contains." He went to a particular shelf and began looking over its contents.

Seren stared around her, feeling a hum against her mind. The air felt thick with energy and she extended her hands out as if she could wade through it like water, features slack in surprise. "What would magic feel like?"

Thranduil turned to her and watched. He hadn't expected her to know that it was magic she was sensing but he had at least thought she might pick up on its presence. "It is different for everyone. One constant is that it feels like it echoes in one's mind. What you are sensing are the wards that protect this room and the enchantments of some of the artifacts here."

He came toward her and held up a scroll, taking it to a nearby podium and unrolling it. Two feet of parchment fell open and Seren stared at the sloping and swirled, neat and tiny writing that crammed every inch of it. The letters were perfectly aligned in straight rows though there were no lines. What caught her attention most was the picture in the upper left corner. A vertical box, four inches by six, framed an image of two trees standing in a clearing which was surrounded at the edge by a forest. They were the very trees Seren had been seeing in her sleep since the day she returned to life.

Depictions of beautiful elves wandering near the trees displayed opulence the likes of which she hadn't seen before. Thranduil seemed almost drab by comparison.

The trees were painted to show the light they emitted and the soft silver and golden hues played over the surface of everything in the image. Suddenly, as she stared, she could almost see them in her mind, dragging them up from the memories of dreams. She had tried many times to capture these trees and was never satisfied. Even this rendering was a poor reflection of what she saw in her mind.

"They're beautiful…" She lifted a hand to reach for the image but remembered that she probably shouldn't touch the parchment with her hands. "I have tried so many times to express what I see… I've never come this close however." A great sorrow welled within her and she knew without asking that the trees were no more. "If only I could have stood before them while I painted…"

Thranduil watched her profile as it changed from awe to sadness and grief. It hadn't escaped him that he never mentioned the trees' destruction and yet Seren spoke of them in the past tense.

"These are the trees you dream of?"

"All my life I've seen them. How…?" She slowly jerked her head toward him as though surprised he was there.

He stepped back from her, startled by the impossibly emerald hue of her eyes when she focused on him. There was a light to her that hadn't been there a moment ago. It was as familiar as any of his kin and yet unfathomably strange.

Her eyes lost focus and she cast her gaze toward the floor. "Laurelin… and Telperion…" She gazed back at the image and tears sprang to her eyes. "How do I know them?"

She looked at the elvenking who could only stare. "Thranduil? How can I know them?"

He shook his head once. "I don't know. The only explanation I could offer is impossible."