"Found her!" Someone cried distantly and Miraleth suddenly found herself on the ground in the arms of someone much bigger than she.

"Agh! Get off!" She shrieked and lost her grip on the silver arrow nocked in her bow as she fell. It flew from the bow and embedded itself in the ground less than a foot from her face. Just as the first pair of arms loosened, another came and got her from the other side. "Stupid children, both of you! Get off!" She yelled.

"No, no. I'm quite comfortable." Elladan's arms tightened around her. "How about you, Elrohir?"

"Yes, I rather like this. Too long on horseback deprives you from things like catching your sister off guard." He agreed.

"Would. You. Morons. Please. Get. Off." Miraleth's voice was muffled by Elrohir's chest. "Can't. Breathe."

Elrohir and Elladan let her up but kept their arms tightly around her small frame. "Come on now, don't be so upset. Didn't you miss us?" Elrohir grinned. "We missed you."

"Yes, yes, I missed you…" Miraleth muttered. "Now get off."

"Mmmm, not until we see that smile." Elladan chuckled. "Please? For your favorite brothers?"

"My only brothers."

"But your favorite nonetheless."

Miraleth looked at them. After a couple seconds her pout broke and her lips parted in a grin. She laughed. "I was looking for you two earlier but you had gone. I'm supposed to be angry with you both."

"Ah, there it is!" Elrohir grinned and they let her go. "We didn't want to go into the hobbit's room to say goodbye to you. Between Bilbo and the other three Aragorn brought with him, Rivendell is being overrun."

"How kind you are towards Shirefolk." Miraleth teased and began to walk with them off the training grounds. She saw Elladan pick up her bow and quiver of arrows for her out of the corner of her eye. "Why did you go hunt? Who are we expecting?"

Her brothers' faces grew solemn. "Father's called a council." Elrohir said. "Men, Dwarves, Elves, Bilbo and Frodo, and Gandalf."

Miraleth frowned. "Why has he called a council? Why wasn't I told?"

The two brothers exchanged glances before Elrohir looked down at his sister. He knew she was frightened of the Ring, but she wouldn't speak to him for months if he lied to her. "To discuss the One Ring. Something must be done with it. Father won't allow it to stay in Imladris, especially not if Sauron and Saruman are both coming for it. We have not the strength to protect it anymore."

"And you weren't told," Elladan picked up his brothers words. "Because you are not invited."

Miraleth stopped in her tracks, astounded. "What? What does that mean? What do you mean I'm not invited?"

"Don't, Miraleth…" Elladan placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's not for you to worry about. Arwen won't be attending either."

"But I want to go. I'm the one who's been Seeing all that has to do with the Ring, I deserve to go!"

"No." Elrohir's voice was firm.

"But—"

"I said no, Miraleth." He remained steadfast. "You are not going. You are not getting caught up in this mess."

"It's for your own good." Elladan agreed.

Miraleth crossed her arms and glared at them. "That's fine then. I'll find out what happens anyways."

Elrohir looked at Elladan. "She's right, Legolas will probably tell her all about it." He muttered.

Miraleth stared at him. "Legolas? Legolas will be there?"

"Of course he is, Thranduil's heir wouldn't sit by on the sidelines, and you know Legolas…"

"Legolas is here? In Imladris, and no one cared to notify me?" Miraleth was running off before she finished speaking, not waiting for her brother's response.

Elladan watched her run off. "I'll just put your bow in your rooms then!" He called after her. When she didn't make any response he lowered his voice. "Think we should go along and make sure Legolas doesn't lay a hand on our sister?"

Elrohir watched her run. "No, no. I think I trust them alone. Besides if they had any thoughts for each other they'd be betrothed already. A thousand years is long enough to figure something like that out, don't you think?" He paused for a moment, thinking. "Right? Damn. Don't put thoughts into my mind; I would hate to have to tear such a close friend apart."

Legolas was in the stables tending to his tired horse when Miraleth found him. "Legolas!" She called and he turned just in time to catch her in his arms. He lifted her up and twirled her around before setting her back down on her feet.

"Mae Govannen, Miraleth." He laughed and held his friend's arms out to look her up and down."Look at you, you've grown!" He teased. Miraleth, while still tall and willowy, was a bit on the shorter side compared to the other elleths in Imladris. She made herself graceful all the same, though.

"Don't tease me," She laughed, her smile lighting up the stables. "I've missed you. Nae saian luume'."

"Mirkwood has missed your loveliness as well, my lady." Legolas grinned and offered her his arm before leading her out of the stables and towards the main house. "Imladris is selfish to keep you all to herself."

She grinned. "You've seen my brothers already?"

"Not yet."

"How rude of them. They were the ones who told me you had arrived."

"Where are they?"

"Not sure. Probably running about causing mischief."

"Sounds like them."

Miraleth nodded once before nonchalantly changing the topic. "So you are to attend my father's council tomorrow?"

"Ah, there it is." Legolas chuckled. "Knew you were going to ask."

"Can you blame me?" Miraleth asked, eyes twinkling. "I haven't been invited."

Legolas shook his head. "I'm not going to tell you this time. Elrond hasn't invited you for a reason."

"Well that's why he invited you! So you could tell me all about it!"

"I think not." Legolas smiled wryly. "Is Aragorn here? I'd like to see him."

"He's here, but I don't think you want to see him. He's…otherwise preoccupied."

Legolas gave her a confused look.

"He hasn't seen my sister in a very long while. They're making up for lost time." Miraleth informed him, trying to hint at what she meant the best she could. Legolas was one of her closest friends, but he was one of the most naïve beings she'd ever met in her life.

"Ah. I see." He nodded and gave her a strange glance. "I think."

Miraleth sighed. "Really, Legolas. It's a wonder the elleths of Mirkwood haven't chewed you up and spit you back out already."

"Hurry, Miraleth. It won't do to be late." Elrohir called into his sister's rooms. He and Elladan exchanged glances and rolled their eyes.

"I know it won't." She replied as she appeared in the doorway, slipping a long, thin dagger into one of the folds of her gown.

"There you are, that took you long enough. Good to know you're still carrying that thing ar—Miraleth!" Elrohir's eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"You look absolutely freezing, sister, have my cloak!" Elladan frantically rushed to her side and wrapped his cloak around her, fastening it below her chin. "There you go, that's better."

"But you might want to run back inside and grab a nice blanket. You might get a chill. Here, I'll get one for you!"

Miraleth was not amused, and she threw her arm up, barring Elrohir from her rooms. "It's quite warm outside, thank you. Here Elladan, have your cloak back." She unfastened it and tossed it back into his arms. "You two are unbelievable."

"What's unbelievable is that gown; who did you get it from?" Elrohir interrogated as he and his brother caught up to her down the hall.

She didn't even glance at him. "The tailor, whom I get all my gowns from."

"And who approved it?"

"Funny, I don't ever remember having to get my clothes approved before."

"I don't ever remember you wearing something that needed approving." Elrohir gingerly picked up a silken sleeve before dropping it. "I think the tailor made a mistake. He seemed to have placed all the fabric that covers the chest in the sleeves. And there seems to be a rather large hole in the back. We must ask him to fix it, Elladan."

Miraleth frowned at her brothers. "You'll do no such thing. Arwen was the one that asked him to make it for me. If you go to anyone, go to her."

"Perhaps we shall." Elladan muttered. Leave it to Arwen to make his job of protecting their youngest sister that much harder. What was she trying to do, attract every tall, strong, handsome elf in Middle-Earth to whisk her away from them?

Miraleth ignored her brothers' bickering over her gown and let her eyes sweep over the various roads leading to the Hall. She had since grown used to the beauty of Rivendell, but the amazed, dazzled wide-eyed faces of guests traveling along the roads to the Hall reminded her that it had taken her quite a number of years.

Such guests included a group of men who were so taken by Rivendell's landscape they nearly walked straight into Miraleth and her brothers. The leader of the group noticed the three elves just in time and reached out to keep one of his companions from bumping into Elladan. He bowed his head in mutual, wordless acknowledgement to Elrohir and Elladan, but suddenly straightened and moved forward at the sight of Miraleth nestled between her two brothers.

The man stopped in front of her. "My lady," he reached for her hand and bowed down to bring it to his lips. Perhaps it was just Miraleth who thought he kept it there longer than necessary. "What a lucky man I am to have my night blessed so by your beauty." He spoke in the common tongue.

Miraleth could feel Elrohir and Elladan bristle at her sides. "Lucky indeed," Elrohir murmured in Sindarin. The man gave him a look and clearly did not understand him, but Elrohir's tone of voice offered the man a clear warning.

Miraleth studied the man before her, and her cheery smile faded. She had Seen him before in her dreams. "You flatter me, Boromir, son of Denethor." She spoke carefully. She had Seen him, and she had Seen the things he was capable of. Her Sight had not been specific about his deeds, but it had given her enough of a feeling to send chills down her back when he raised his eyes to hers. She gently pulled her hand out of his grasp. "I trust you're enjoying Imladris?"

"Very much. Your home is very beautiful." He straightened up, sensing the tension in the air. "Well…I must be on my way." He smiled charmingly, breaking the tension. "Until next time, my lady."

Her lips shaped themselves into a small smile as she relaxed a bit. "Until next time, son of Denethor."

He jerked his chin towards his group of fellow men and they obediently followed him down the path, every so often casting glances back at the three elves.

"What was that about?" Elladan asked Miraleth. His sister had never been the sort to be so tense with strangers. Rather, she cast them lovely smiles and treated them as if she had known them for years.

She lightly shook her head, still watching the men go. "It was nothing. A bad feeling, that's all."

"Yes, well, I don't blame you." Elrohir placed a hand on the small of Miraleth's back and gently pushed her to continue walking, his dark gaze never leaving the group of men whose laughter grew faint with the increasing distance. "Boromir's father sent him to take the One Ring for Gondor. Power-crazed, bitter old man, Denethor. He often mistakes his stewardship over Gondor for kingship."

Miraleth's voice was soft. "We were once friends with Gondor."

Elladan squeezed her shoulder. "We were once friends with Men."

Upon reaching the Hall and entering through the massive doors, Miraleth's mood was instantly lifted. The fires, the food, the drink, the laughter, the joy in the air; it all spoke to her like an old friend. There was happiness here, and she welcomed it. Two of Frodo's hobbit friends were dancing and singing on top of a nearby table, pipes in one hand and drinks in the other. They were not used to Elvish liquor—Miraleth could tell that much by the way they stumbled and slurred. Men and some elves were around the table, clapping to the beat of their tune and cheering them on. Elrohir and Elladan escorted Miraleth to the table at the head of the Hall, where she sat two seats down from her father's left side. Elrohir and Elladan would sit in the first two seats to his right, and Arwen would sit in the first seat to his left.

Speaking of Arwen, where was she? She was coming, wasn't she? The empty space between Miraleth and her father was awkward to those coming up to the table to offer respects, and even more awkward when Elrond left the table to make nice with a group of dwarves who had done nothing all evening but cast suspicious looks around the Hall.

—"Renich i lu I erui govannem?"

She was holding his hands to her heart, emotion strong in her voice. Tears clung to her eyelashes.

"Nauthannen i ned ol reniannen."

Love. Attachment.

She was going to do something dangerous…irrational.

The pain—

Miraleth flushed and shook her head, pulling back and throwing up barriers around her mind before she could witness anything else. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment. She did not need to see Arwen and Aragorn together—it was not for her eyes. It was not for anyone's eyes but their own.

At the same time…there was a warning there for Arwen. Would it really have hurt to keep watching, for her sister's good…?

Miraleth shook her thoughts out of her head and focused on a servant placing a platter of fruit on the table in front of her father. No. Arwen's business was her own, and no one else's. Miraleth knew her sister. She could take care of herself.

Miraleth reached over and plucked a strawberry from the platter, and when she looked back up, golden hair caught her eye. "My lady," Legolas knelt and bowed his head, and nearby candlelight shone off the silver hairpiece he wore that marked him as a Prince of the Woodland Realm.

"Mae Govennen, Prince Legolas." The corners of her lips drew up in a smile. "I hope the hospitality of Imladris has been good to you."

"As always, my lady."

They stared at each other for a few long moments before Legolas' formal countenance broke and he began to laugh. Miraleth lost her composure as well and joined him before clapping her hands in joy and gesturing to the seat next to her. "Come and sit, Legolas. Besides, you belong up here. Heir to the King of Mirkwood and all," she teased as he walked around the table and took the seat on the other side of her, nodding to a servant when they poured him a cup of wine.

"Where's Arwen?" He asked after taking a sip.

"Guess." Miraleth reached for another strawberry.

"Oh, no need. Here she is." He gestured to the door, where Arwen was gliding through in all her beauty, her lavender gown flowing behind her in tendrils of grace. Men and elves alike stopped to gaze and bow their heads as she passed.

Miraleth was beautiful—of course she was, she was an elleth. Daughter of Elrond and Lady of Rivendell. They said she had a lovely beauty. Songs of old claimed that her youthful beauty made the sun smile and the trees laugh. They said her loveliness filled hearts with hope.

But Arwen had a beautiful, serious, solemn beauty. If Miraleth was the sun, then Arwen was the moon. She was gifted with the kind of beauty that made men swear their lives and souls to her and kings go to war with each other in her name. The kind of beauty that almost hurt to look at. The kind that made you question your existence, because if that kind of beauty lived and was not yours, what was the point of life at all?

Miraleth knew she was beautiful, but she would never have the heartbreaking kind of beauty that her sister had.

"Hello, sister," Arwen greeted as she took her seat beside Miraleth. "Legolas," she acknowledged gently.

Legolas respectfully inclined his head. "My lady."

Miraleth smirked. "Enjoying your night, Arwen?" She raised her wine glass in a teasing toast when Arwen's face turned stony with embarrassment. Miraleth was just about to move on from her jesting and comment on the loveliness of Arwen's gown when her eyes swept over the base of Arwen's throat. Pale. Beautiful. Graceful.

Empty.

Miraleth's breathing caught in her chest and her eyes stared, shocked, at her sister's neck. "Arwen," she breathed out. "You didn't." Her gaze snapped up to catch Arwen's wide, frightened eyes.

"Miraleth…"

"You didn't." Miraleth repeated, unable to form any other words. "Please, Arwen." Please say you didn't. Please say you didn't. Please say you didn't. The words repeated in her mind like a mantra.

"Miraleth, dina." Legolas' soft voice. Miraleth barely spared him a glance before turning back to Arwen.

"You don't understand—!"

"Then make me understand!" Miraleth could feel Legolas' strong hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. When Arwen didn't reply, Miraleth reached out and grabbed her wrist. Immediately, images flashed through her head.

—"You said you'd bind yourself to me, forsaking the immortal life of your people."

"And to that I hold."

A gem.

A necklace shining in the darkness.

Stupidity.

"I choose a mortal life."—

Just as quickly, Miraleth released Arwen's wrist.

The three were silent, the joyous celebration around them forgotten. After a long, tenous moment, Miraleth gathered her skirts in her hands and fled the hall, ignoring every man, dwarf, and elf who knelt before her as she passed, just as they had her sister.

Legolas found Miraleth in a quiet glade, sitting calmly on a stone bench that had been there longer than she'd been alive. That was why she liked it there. Because everything had been there ages and centuries before she had. It reminded her that something had always been, before her and after her, and it made her problems seem smaller. Legolas allowed the silence to continue and joined Miraleth on the bench, placing his hands on his knees and looking out over the beauty of Imladris and waiting for what he knew would come. Sure enough, after mere minutes that seemed to stretch on forever, Miraleth let her head fall to rest on Legolas' shoulder and she curled up into him, breathing out a barely audible sigh. It was another few minutes before Legolas gathered up the courage to speak.

"Does the Evenstar grant Arwen her immortality?" He asked quietly. He knew the stories about the House of Elrond. They were the Half-Elven, and were ultimately given a choice between the immortality of the elves, or a mortal life and the death that came with it—the Gift of Man.

"No," Miraleth replied just as softly. "But it represents her choice. By forsaking the Evenstar, she forsakes her immortality and her birthright as Lady of Rivendell."

Legolas gazed at her out of the corner of his vision. "She forsakes her family. You and your brothers. Your father." Her silence was confirmation enough. "Is it set in stone already?"

She shook her head once, her hair rustling against the fabric of Legolas' tunic. "No. My father will try and change her mind. He wishes for Arwen and I to sail for Valinor." Her voice grew softer yet. "He says the time of the elves is over. Perhaps he is right."

"Mirkwood is disappearing," Legolas said after a moment, thinking of the green forests of his home, so different from the magical, silvery forests of Imladris. "My father remains as king, along with some of our court, but many of our people have already sailed."

Miraleth laced her arm into the crook of his elbow and curled further into him, her dark curls of hair falling over his shoulder. "It frightens me," she whispered. "Sailing to the Undying Lands. Gone forever, never to return. I'd like to stay in Middle Earth…but I would not give my immortality for it."

"Nor would I." Legolas absentmindedly stroked his fingers over her shoulder as the two looked up at the inky black of the sky pinpricked with gems of stars.

"Legolas?"

"Hmm?" The hum vibrated in his chest and through Miraleth's own body. She shivered.

"Council."

"No."

"I'll find out what's going on whether you tell me or not. I know all of Rivendell's little hiding places," Miraleth promised with a wry smile. "Do not underestimate me."

"Oh, I don't doubt you for a second." Legolas sighed. "I'd just rather you get in trouble than the both of us."

"That's mean."

"Self-preservation, more like." Another moment of comfortable silence, broken only by bugs chirping in the trees. "The Seeing," Legolas started. "Does it bother you?"

"No. I barely notice it."

"Don't lie to me…"

Miraleth turned her head to look up at Legolas. He was frowning down at her. She turned away and surveyed the landscape before her before answering. "Of course it bothers me. It's terrible, having to See everything. What has passed, and what will come to pass. Private moments that are not meant for your eyes. And since Frodo arrived, Seeing has not brought pleasant dreams, but nightmares." She exhaled harshly. "And it's unreliable at best. I don't feel powerful. I only feel as if I have no control. The stories of Man and Dwarf may make it seem as if being gifted with the Sight renders you all-knowing, but I cannot see what the future holds. Only events and feelings that may or may not come to pass."

"Are you alright? It doesn't injure you?"

Miraleth shook her head, sighed. "I'm fine. It just…wears me down, that's all. I'm not quite sure what to do with it."

"The Lady Galadriel has the same Sight. Perhaps you could ask for a word with her about it."

Miraleth shuddered. "No…no. Going to my grandmother is my last resort. Galadriel is beautiful, but she is wicked and cruel. She is corrupt in the power her knowledge brings her."

Legolas stroked her hair apologetically. "I can think of no one else who bears this same burden. If I could take it from you, I would."

"No, don't say that. I would not wish this on you, Legolas." Miraleth smiled weakly.

"Then perhaps I could merely help you bear it." He suggested, the corner of his mouth turning up. "Mirkwood will not miss a short absence. How long am I welcome in Imladris?"

"For as long as you are willing to stay."

"Then I will stay for as long as my land allows," he promised, taking note of the way his friend's eyes fluttered shut in relief. "I would not sit by and let you bear this pain alone."

A/N: Forgot to mention, if it doesn't bother you, this story is best viewed (or I think so, at least) with the story width at 3/4. I love FanFiction and all, but the story format drives me crazy. The width of the default full view makes all the paragraphs seem shorter and thinner and the automatic double spacing between the paragraphs makes me have to use the line breaks when I want to transition and I really don't like them and it's just one big mess for my OCD mind. Ok.

Mae Govannen—Well met

Nae saian luume'—It has been too long

Renich i lu I erui govannem—Do you remember when we first met

Nauthannen i ned ol reniannen—I thought I had strayed into a dream

Dina—Be silent