Hello to all my readers, as well as to those of you who are imensely pissed off because I have failed to finish off what I have started. I'm getting there- but laetly I've been working on a final project for two classes, which just happens to be what you are about to read.

I do not own, JRR Tolkien's Lord of the Rings- nor any of the movies or have any property claims over plot, storyline, characters. etc- save for Laiste and her story.

I hope you all enjoy, comment please!

Elvish translations:

Namárië, Brand, ná Elbereth veria le, ná elenath dín síla erin rád o chuil lín- Farewell, Brand, may Elbereth protect you, may her stars shine on the path of your life.

Belain na le- The Valar be with you

Ada- father

Namárië, mellon- Farewell friend

Hannon le- Thank you

Im gelir ceni ad lín, mellon-

Manen nalyë? - How are you?

Im maer- I'm well

Gen hannon- I thank you

Elleth- female elf

Eldar- the word used for elves who left the shores of Aman and took the Great Journey

Secret Souls

Chapter Eight-

Breakfast passed with laughter and much joy, especially on the parts of Lindir, the composer of most of the music of Rivendell and Gildor, one of the House's finest musicians. The two interrogated the Ishtari about the music of the Valar, going to far as to asking the wizard to recite verses, which he seemed to do with great relish and evident enjoyment. He would later confide in them all that he would talk as much as possible, going on and on unless someone stopped him- at breakfast before this warning was issued, Mithrandir dominated much of the conversation asking questions, giving answers some vague and others direct, all the while eating and offering his 'most wonderful compliments to the chef.'

The Istari's presence brought about so much discussion on its own, and so breakfast extended into lunch, and it was not until a reluctant Erestor reminded Lord Elrond of the documents that awaited his attention that the party broke up, going to oversee their separate duties. Lindir and Gildor alone remained seated, heads close together as they scribbled over numerous musical sheets, occasionally singing softly or arguing about the placement of a note here or there. Arwen and Celebrian wandered off together, talking about the upcoming summer solstice and the preparations that would be continuing until their first guests arrived on the marrow. Ecthelion and Glorfindel stayed with Mithrandir and the female squire for a short while before heading out to train and conduct a brief examination of the patrols that guarded our borders.

Laiste looked nervous as she bid her two mentors and friends farewell and followed Mithrandir in his retreat to his chambers, "Will this really work?" She asked the former maiar spirit.

"I am not quite sure," Sharp blue eyes gazed at the elleth, the bright light within flashing as he regarded her, "you see all things have a purpose. Sometimes that purpose is too difficult to discern and understanding would be- at best- vague and unclear. It is like the seed of a flower, some are eaten and some are planted in the ground, while some blossom others don't. The Valar have a reason behind everything young one and not even one so wise as I can see everything they have designed. Though if I many flatter myself, I can see and determine quite a bit of it." The old Istari said, winking at the end of his statement. "Now then, let's have a look at you shall we? Sit wherever it happens you're comfortable- we don't want you falling into a heap upon the floor."

Offering him a small smile in return for his humor Laiste sat on a nearby chair. Mithrandir walked to the corner of his chamber and gently took into his hands a staff like none she had ever seen before. Sturdy, as though made for long and laborious travels, the deep brown wood was uneven and gnarled, like that branches of the great oak that towered near the far shore of the Fords. Similarly the top of the staff, almost reaching beyond the wizards head, reached out tiny yet sturdy branches in order to cradle a rugged crystal which Mithrandir had placed within after pulling it out from someplace within his grey robes.

"A brief question before we begin Mithrandir-", Laiste said hesitantly, "Did the Hobbit that gave you the box tell you anything?"

"Ah, Hobbits- curious creatures aren't they? I can assure you, your friend- Brand was it? - is doing quite well and was immensely cheerful when we happened upon the fellow. There seemed to be a great hullabaloo going on, something about a wedding not long after the harvest season."

"I see." Laiste murmured softly.

"Now Laiste- have you had any recent memories return?" Mithrandir asked his voice kind as he looked down at her.

Biting the bottom of her lip Laiste nodded, "Yes, of my home-Gondolin."

Under bushy eyebrows, keen blue eyes widened a small degree in surprise. "Gondolin? And you have not informed Glorfindel or Ecthelion of this?" His voice was sharp.

"I saw no reason to." Laiste explained, mentally grimacing at her inability to tell a lie- though it was likely that even if she could lie, the Istari would likely be able to discern the falsities. "It was yesterday afternoon- there has been little time to tell them."

For a time Mithrandir asked sharp questions, aimed at revealing all she knew of what she had regained. Laiste told the wizard everything, though at times, like any elf, she was extremely uncomfortable with revealing anything more than events. The sun was in its slow descent before the former maiar spirit was satisfied with her answers. "And now we may begin."

Slowly he walked forwards and placed his staff before her face, mere inches away from her nose. Then the magic swelled and Laiste no longer cared to see what went on as her mind was pressed under a great weight. Magic swirled around the two beings, slow and thick. Abruptly the magic stopped and a pained cry slipped out of Laiste's mouth. Her head felt like it was about to explode! Flashes of faces, people, caves, mountains, the clouds- Ecthelion smiling down at her, Glorfindel dressed in white, a man with dark hair and a golden circlet upon his brow, and bright eager eyes that belonged to a young elleth who wore a pale tunic and trousers. Streets, screaming-everything burning. Anger, pain, and sorrow to keen that Laiste could have sworn that in that brief second her heart broke.

Mithrandir frowned to himself and he mentally examined the elleth's mind. It was almost as though a wall had been built around her past, small cracks allowed a few memories to slip through, like thin streams of water. Pressing against it would do nothing and for a moment the Istari wondered what it was that Mandos and the other Valar had done. A cry tripped his concentration and slowly he pulled away from the depths of the she-elf's mind.

Gasping for breath Laiste leaned heavily against the chair her eyes wide as what she recalled grew dim even as she struggled to retain the memories. They slipped away and soon she recalled nothing more than the raw emotions that had ripped through her mind. Forcing herself into a state of calm she turned her head to look at the wizards, who somehow appeared to her to be worn and more aged.

"Mithrandir?" She called softly.

"I am afraid that there is little I can do without giving you great pain, Laiste." His voice was slow and sounded almost regretful.

Ignoring the sting of disappointment Laiste laughed softly and smiled, taking his hand. "Do not be so down Mithrandir. I am no worse than before."

Byes eyes met blue and the more aged of the pair narrowed, and the corners crinkled as a small smile upturned the edge of Mithrandir's mouth. "Indeed." His serious expression returned, "I will help you regain what it is you have lost."

"Gen hannon." She murmured. For a time the two rested in quiet but after a time the elf left and returned to her chambers where she slept through the evening meal, during which Mithrandir conveyed his limited success much to the dismay of those with whom he dined.