As Erienne finally had her first restful slumber in hundreds of years, Thranduil sat by her side just watching her. She looked tired and drained and it was apparent that though she tried to be strong, the years of torture had taken their toll on her body. Even now, her sleep was not natural, having been induced by a drink that Galaden had made for her.

Thranduil ran his fingers through her hair, sweeping back the stringy wisps that were falling across her face. Blur as he had been about her presence, he had not paid much attention to it when he had first seen her. And then she had been quick to cover it.

They had shaved off her hair to humiliate her. Had she been stripped as well? Most probably. The tears of anger and agony welling up in Thranduil's eyes did nothing to make him feel better and he took in a deep breath to compose himself. Yet, the heavy lead in his heart remained.

He was not sure if he ought to do it but he went ahead to remove her clothes. Riding tunics were awfully uncomfortable to sleep in. He had asked Elda to bring up her clothes that Galaden had arranged for her. Poor Elda, she had been shocked to realise that she had made the Queen work and though Thranduil was not one to show emotions, he could understand Elda's joy mixed with fear and worry that she might have offended the Queen. Elda was nearly like a mother to him, he had told her that Erienne would be sure to come down and see her once she was well.

Changing her clothes brought further horrors upon Thranduil. They were tears of anguish but tears of fury as well. How badly must she have been whipped for the lacerations to be so deep? He could understand why Erienne had been so fearful of returning. Her skin looked like a treacherous pit of bumps and holes. There were whiplashes all over, the scars of hot brands and parts looked like someone had just gouged the flesh out. Most were nearly healed by now but the scars would never go. Once Erienne regained her strength, she could use her magic to cover them but that would be a mere illusion, wouldn't it? The suffering could not be washed over.

Thranduil heard a knock and looked up. Aradan was at the door. Beckoning him in, Thranduil told him to look after Erienne while he went to wash up. When he returned, Aradan was sitting at Erienne's side, his hands gently rubbing her feet as his eyes roved over her body. There were deep marks on the sole of her feet as well. Thranduil could see that Aradan was overwhelmed when he saw his Commander sink his forehead towards Erienne's feet, his body convulsing. He stood away, allowing Aradan to have some time alone. He was sorry and upset for the way he had treated Aradan for he knew how affected Aradan would have been by them even if he had meant none of his words. Though, he was the Commander, the most courageous, stealthy, skillful and fearsome of them all on the battlefield, he was also the most sensitive of the four. The loss of Erienne had affected him badly and so had the state of her return.

After awhile, Aradan appeared to have composed himself for he stood up, rubbed his face and leaned over to kiss Erienne's forehead. He looked up to see Thranduil and for a moment, the two elves just stood there, looking at one another. It was Aradan who broke the silence.

"Have you eaten, my lord? You must be hungry."

Thranduil looked far away. "Aye, Aradan. I am hungry but its not mere food that will satiate this hunger. Dol Guldur must fall forever."

Aradan looked at Thranduil and though he hesitated a moment, he said softly, "Caution, my lord. 'Tis a powerful and ruthless enemy we speak of. Dol Guldur will fall but we shall bide our time. 'Twas to protect our elves that we did not act all those years ago when King Oropher fell. 'Tis for the same reason that we shall hold ourselves again for our lady's suffering be in vain if we march our soldiers with neither thought nor stealth."

Thranduil did not respond as Aradan's words sunk in. It was not for the first time that he thanked Eru that he had such an able and wise commander at his side. He knew that Aradan was standing behind him, resolved in his decision but fearful of his King's reaction at the same time. The old Aradan would just have refused point blank and argued it to his face.

Without turning to face Aradan, he said softly, "I feared missing your frank opinions, Aradan. Yet, they miss the force of my Commander's. When I decided to enter Dale a few weeks back, I nearly had to beg my Commander for he refused to commit his elves to what could be and was death for them. 'Twas only when he heard that his Prince had most foolishly landed himself in the midst of that madness, that he marched his soldiers to the battle."

"Whether it be the folly of your King or the desperation your friend, I hope you can forgive both. 'Twas only the strength of your presence at my side that allowed me to live and rule all these years. Now, that happiness is slowly honouring me with its presence, do not cast a shadow over it by holding back your friendship. I could never bear it."

Thranduil looked uncertainly at Aradan, looking for any signs of unhappiness but could find none. Aradan was shaking his head at him, "Do you remember, Thranduil, when we were both young elflings, back in Doriath and in the Woodlands, all the trouble we landed ourselves into? You always got the punishment from King Oropher, I always escaped. Just by telling my Ada that the Prince of Mirkwood forced me to do it."

Aradan looked at Thranduil in the eyes, "You never corrected me and I neither apologized nor thanked you."

"Neither apology nor gratefulness exist between friends, Aradan."

"Exactly, King Thranduil."

There followed a moment of comfortable silence in the room as the two elves contemplated their own thoughts. There was no need for any other explanations, apologies or thanks.

A knock on the door announced the arrival of their dinner. Aradan sank onto the comfortable oak chair, his head resting on its cushion. The day seemed to have tired him. Thranduil was standing, leaning against the table. When the young soldier announced Elda with the food, he had to stop himself from showing his surprise that the Commander was sitting so casually whilst the King stood. He had heard of their great friendship. Many had told him that the rank of King over Commander was only in name for the Commander, very rightfully, had the full respect of his King. Today, he was witnessing it for himself.

Elda did not seem very surprised though, bowing to them both before she left after having laid the simple dinner on the table.