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.

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 Twelve-

Laiste knew not how long it was before warm, familiar hands were gently holding back her pale hair and a soft voice murmuring sweet words of comfort into her ears. Recognizing the voice, tears flowed faster and thicker. Ecthelion glanced back to the servant and asked her to send for Lord Elrond or Mithrandir immediately, and with all due haste the poor surprised girl rushed off to do as the seneschal bid.

"Hush now, dear one- it is alright." Ecthelion murmured trying to calm the woman down. Never before had he seen her cry like this, not even in the First Age. Eventually her body seemed too tired to heave any longer and Laiste grew limp. Cradling her in his arms, Ecthelion wet a towel and wiped away the dirt from her face. Blue eyes so full of pain locked onto his and he knew what she had seen. Sitting on her bed, he found that there was simply nothing that he could say to ease the sorrow, and merely held her close, offering comfort and like a lost child she held onto him tightly, her distress growing as she wept and halting questions bubbled out of her lips.

"Shhh. The time will come for answers, my sweet one."

"I want- them now!" She choked up and more sobs ripped from her lungs.

Pushing her head to his chest the Lord of the Fountain stroked her soft hair and held her seemingly frail body closer. At that moment Glorfindel, Elrond, and Mithrandir walked into the room. It was a relief to the warrior that they understood almost immediately what had happened. Glorfindel's faced twisted in a mask of similar pain and sad down beside his best friend. Tears made their way down his face and though his voice was steady as he murmured soft words in Quenya- the first elven language and the one that the three of them had grown up with.

"I will make some tea." Elrond murmured and together he and Mithrandir left the room allowing the three Gondolrhim to, at last, mourn together. By the time the Lord had returned with calming tea Laiste lay silent on the bed, her mind far too exhausted to do anything more than shut down. On seeing her eyes closed Elrond moved forwards and laid a hand upon her head.

"She is ill at heart." Glorfindel murmured his words heavy. "A healing sleep is what she need now."

Mithrandir nodded, "She will awaken when she is ready."

Elrond nodded and looked to the former Gondolin Lords, "You have my permission to stay here. The Lady Galadriel seems to have foreseen such an event and has created a suitable explanation as to why the three of you are missing from tonight's celebrations."

Glorfindel nodded, "She will want explanations and it would be best to hear them from us."

"A wise choice." Mithrandir murmured. Walking over to the elleth he placed a hand over her forehead and frowned, murmuring words under his breath. After a moment he pulled away looking more at ease, "She will awaken tomorrow morning."

The two lords looked at one another, both had suffered greatly on their reawakening in Valinor and it has taken them many months to heal with the knowledge that their sacrifices had been in vain and that their beloved city had fallen. Even the news of Idril's safety and that of her husband's and child's had not been enough to console the two.

"She will not, I think, want to speak of it at first, but when she is ready you will most certainly know." Mithrandir continued, "Remember you must be patient with her as I was with you."

And with those words Mithrandir departed talking in a low voice with Elrond, who spared him every bit of attention that he had.

Silence descended on the chamber and Glorfindel began to wander about the room taking it all in. Ecthelion traded off between watching his best friend and gazing at Laiste. At last Glorfindel's uneasiness would deal with the silence and he tossed it away with a simple question, "What caused her memories of Gondolin's fall to appear?"

"Anearith- what else was there that would have forced out such a memory?" Ecthelion murmured, nodding over to the sword that lay on the ground.

In a few quick strides Glorfindel was picking up the sword and examining its sheathed state. "She tied it." He noted aloud.

Ecthelion peered at the hilt and then nodded in agreement. "So she did."

A long suffering sigh parted Glorfindel's lips. Carefully he set the sword down, leaning it against the wall near her bed. "What should we tell her?"

"The truth? For what else is there to say- would you rather give her a book that details the Fall of Gondolin and let her figure it out on her own?"

"Nay, but I would that we could make it easier upon her. She has little to hold her to this world and I worry that she shall Fade."

At this mention of the possibility of Laiste Fading, Ecthelion felt as though the ice waters of Helcaraxë had slid down his spine. "No- she is not so weak."

"There is only so much pain the fëa can bear before it shatters my friend. We have no way of telling if the Valar gave her the same kindness bestowed upon us. At the very least, we cannot recall the precise pain of the Balrogs or that pain of which we bore in watching our city fall- you and I would have both Faded had it not been for that mercy."

"We will find out soon enough." Ecthelion said, silently pleading for his friend to cease such talk. The late afternoon worn on, blending into twilight which turned into full on night and eventually the day's excitement and cares wore the two lords down enough that sleep soon overcame their senses and they too rested their uneasy minds.

The morning of the summer solstice burned brightly and refreshing breezes from the mountains brought with them the fresh scents of summer and life. Birds twittered and called to all who live on the lands while all the elves had risen early and greeted to rising sun. Now as morning blossomed through the valley every elf donned their best attire and excitement trilled through the air. Laiste awakened to the bright sounds and smiled, feeling the life and sunlight brushing across her skin.

"Good morning." Ecthelion murmured softly in Quenya, making her turn to see the black haired ellon arise from a chair.

Laiste looked at him, fully taking him in and bathing in his presence. He was alive! Her hearted soared in a temporary happiness. Replying in the same language she tossed aside sheets and stood on the floor.

"How long has it been since my mind drifted away?" She asked seeing the bright dawn.

"Many long hours. Do you wish-"

"Don't. Please I beg of you. Let us not utter words of death this day." She interrupted, determined that nothing would ruin this day, no matter how heart sick she was.

Ecthelion gazed at her before nodding, acquiescing to her sole demand, "Very well then, but are you ready to start?" At her confused expression he explained with a small smile, "It is the day of the summer solstice. Glorfindel has already left to prepare himself."

Blue eyes widened and she quickly pushed her mentor out of her room, as he laughed. "I will be escorting you so perhaps you ought to hurry!"

"It will take longer for you to get dressed than I!" She yelled before hurrying to the bathroom. Thanking the Valar for their small mercies on seeing a steaming tub of water ready and waiting for her, Laiste quickly stripped and jumped into the water. Forcing her mind to remain in the present and not linger on a newly recovered past, Laiste bathed quickly though thoroughly. As she stepped into her room once more her feet carried her to the vanity and in turn her eyes locked onto the reflection that gazed back as her.

In essentials nothing had changed over the long evening. Her hair still shone like dimmed silver and her skin showed the effects of a healing sleep, glowing softly with renewed beauty and youth. To her eyes however something had changed and Laiste pondered what it was that she perceived, until her gaze met that of her reflection. It was there that she saw it, the same deep pain that filled the eyes of the Eldar who had remained in Arda after the end of the Second Age. The pain within echoed the knowledge of a true battlefield and the loss of loved ones and kin.

"Enough," She told herself, "Those I love yet live and today is no such day for these dark reflections- therefore no longer will I think upon them until all of our visitors leave." Nodding to her reflection she turned away from the mirror that was too often reflecting more than it should, Laiste made her way to her closet, where with any luck, she would be able to find something more suitable for the festivities.