It was a solemn party that packed camp that evening. All had heard of the prince's departure and though each harboured strong sentiments about his actions, he was still the King's son, their prince. They would not talk about it for it would be disrespectful to their King. Tauriel was another matter altogether. The soldiers were less forgiving towards her. They had lost their brethren, friends and brothers, too. For the safety of their land, for the future of their families. She was being selfish, they muttered amongst themselves. Sensing the discontent and friction amongst the elves, Aradan personally addressed his soldiers. "Soldiers of Mirkwood, heed well my message. I address you today on behalf of our King. This war has seen losses, great and heartbreaking. Yet, the danger is far from over. Our land lies threatened, our home and our future in need of our defence. Our enemies are strong, ruthless and without scruples. A day will dawn when the elven race would have eventually reached the sanctuary of Valinor, but till that day dawns, the duty is upon us to protect our land, our home, our future. Every elf of Mirkwood is important and none shall be left behind. This is not the time to quibble amongst ourselves. No war was ever won with discord and discontent. We will not call upon any soldier against his will. Come forth if you believe in your King, to stand and fight, to defend and uphold what is ours, the right to live in peace. Else, know that you are free to leave. The Woodlands will always stand tall and face what may come."
Thranduil came out of his tent upon hearing the rally, in time to see the elves bowing before their Commander. When they sensed his presence, all turned and knelt before him, pledging their loyalty to the Woodland Realm. As Thranduil raised his eyes to his Commander, Aradan joined his elves. Placing his right arm over his chest, he repeated an oath that he had taken many years ago, "I will follow you to the last, Thranduil, wherever that might be." The import of Aradan's actions was not lost on Thranduil. Only the wise realised that a ruler would last only so long as he had the respect of his people and the trust of his deputies. And whatever Thranduil was not, he had always been a wise ruler. He looked at Aradan and when their eyes met, he knew that he did not have to say anything. Friends did not thank one another, they just made sure they were there for them.
As for Tauriel, Aradan was not totally heartless. He had told her that she was free to leave if she wished but welcome to come home with them. When it was apparent that she was returning to Mirkwood, he ordered her direct lieutenant-general to keep an eye on her and make it easy for her for the next few days. He had, however, made it clear the King did not apologise for his actions or his decisions and that the safety of Mirkwood and its elves overrode all decisions.
Thranduil had thrown himself into work. Leaving Aradan to see to the packing, he had started to think. Seeing the prisoner was a stark warning of the danger that lurked over Mirkwood. Aradan had done the rallying for him. But the work was far from over. Building up Mirkwood's defences were his first priority and he vowed to see to it.
He was leaning against a tree, his lips pursed in concentration as he tried to picture his defences in Mirkwood when Aradan approached him, seeking permission to send a few guards to trail Legolas, just to be sure he remained safe. Thranduil looked up, a faint smile on his face, "You mean you have already sent the guards, Commander Aradan." Aradan looked down sheepishly. Much as he scowled at Legolas, Thranduil was aware of how fond the commander was of the prince and he had expected him to do something of that sort, which was why he still felt relatively safe about his son. His commander would have informed him ought anything be amiss.
As all the elves packed, Thranduil and Legolas went over to their "prisoner". Since Legolas' departure, there had been a visible improvement in her as well and she had regained consciousness on the day that they had to start travelling back to Mirkwood. Aradan had been so relieved though he did not show it. "Thought we'd bury you here and be done with it," he muttered gruffly. Looking at her, he continued, "But since you have put us through so much trouble, better make sure you are well. Don't like burying my elves." As Aradan turned, the elf smiled briefly noting his use of his possessive pronoun.
Extremely weak, she was still unable to walk on her own and Aradan had to help her unto Thranduil's horse. He could have left her to the care of the other soldiers but it did not feel right. For some strange reason, both Aradan and Thranduil felt a deep sense of protectiveness over her since discovering the extent of his torture.
For her part, the "prisoner" was very subdued. It could have been due to her illness but Aradan felt that some sort of sadness had come over her. Perhaps, she was remembering her past. Gently, tucking her in safely on the horse, he looked at her questioningly when, for the first time, she betrayed her emotions, expressing surprise. "This is the King's horse," she said in the same silvery whisper of hers. Aradan nodded, "I have to be around my soldiers. We are riding and could be attacked. It is best for you to be with Thranduil." Thinking that she was fearful, he added, "Our King might not be overtly benevolent and many find him fierce but no innocent shall come to harm under him."
As Aradan patted her and was about to leave, he paused and turned to her. Hesitating awhile, he continued, "Thranduil is likely to be distant, perhaps even cold with you. Don't take it to heart. He does not take well to being too close to anyone." In answer to her puzzled look, Aradan explained, "He lost our Queen Erienne in the worst possible way. He has never recovered from that loss. His gruffness and cold demeanour is a mere cover for that pain." The prisoner looked down, "I am sorry," she whispered. Before he left, the prisoner called out softly to him, "Neither have you, Commander." At Aradan's puzzled looked, the prisoner repeated, "You have never recovered from the loss of your Queen either." Aradan stared at her. Few had ever seen through that gruff exterior to his own pain and loss. "I have work to see to," he mumbled and turned away.
But she called him back. "There's something you ought to know. I do not want you to think that I am hiding it from you." This time, Aradan looked at her sharply. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Thranduil approaching them. "You should tell your King too," she was continuing softly, "I can hear you." Aradan's eyes furrowed as he realised what she meant. So, she could hear, had heard, their whispers and their conversations. Just by summoning the wind? She shook her head. So, her hearing was sharp, sharper than an average elf's. "Anything else?" he asked lightly. "I can talk to animals, and so can they." Aradan sucked in his breath. That explained the butterflies that were always near her.
He could not make a decision without Thranduil on this. As his King approached, he knew that the latter had heard their conversation. Before Thranduil mounted his horse, he looked at the prisoner and then at Aradan. "Her fate is sealed then. For the better or for the worse, she is stuck in the Woodlands with us. So long I live and so long you live, I will never let you leave."