Part 4

Thranduil paced back and forth in his tent, his silver sleeping robes flowing behind him as he went, and muttered to himself. The king had slipped his note under Baradeth's front door almost an hour ago, and his restlessness had grown to great heights.

Has she not seen it yet? Baradeth couldn't have gone to bed; she mentioned earlier that she does not sleep. Hopefully she had found it, read it, and was currently responding to it.

Thranduil halted as an upsetting thought flitted across his mind.

"She does know how to read and write…doesn't she?"

Baradeth had to know, of course, Thranduil told himself as he lowered himself down onto his bed of pillows. If she couldn't read, then why did she have all of those books? Possibly as decoration, yes, but she is a clever and curious girl, she had to have taken a glimpse once or twice. All elves, rich or poor, are required schooling in the first few years of their lives, so she had to know to how read and write at one point. She may have forgotten though, and that was a very upsetting thought.

The king hadn't noticed it, but he'd crossed his arms and begun tapping his fingers anxiously against elbows.

Maybe she had written back and was merely waiting to send the letter. Waiting for what, Thranduil did not know. Did she expect some carrier pigeon to deliver her mail? What a foolish idea to have. Maybe she had slid her letter back under her front door and was waiting for him to—

Before Thranduil could even finish this thought, he was up and out of his tent, walking briskly up the hill to Baradeth's home. Sure enough, a folded piece of paper sat neatly on her porch, just waiting for someone to come by and read it. The king glanced at her front door with squinted eyes, feeling as if he should knock on the door and scold her for how careless she was with her letter. He did not though, and hid the letter in the folds of his robe, deciding to go back to his lodging and read what she had written.

He had hardly stepped foot into his tent before he had the note in his pale hands and unfolded.

T,

I do not think it wise to address these letters to one another in the case of someone finding them. We should also burn our notes after reading them, and deliver them to my porch for the other to collect—your men will not take too kindly to me walking directly up to your tent. Quite a nice tent, might I add; it's more of a house, really.

As for any connection to Sauron that I may have, I ensure you, you do not know nearly as much as you think you do. It is true that I stood beside him to pose as his ally when in reality I was planning to give information to whomever so wanted it. Sadly, I was discovered before I could escape to tell his secrets, and "cursed" as you so fondly called it.

Sauron watches over me now, even in spirit, and is willing to send his army to stick my head on a pike the moment he thinks I am up to something. There is only one thing that would make me tell his secrets, and it is not a thing so easily given by others.

I suggest you put a stop to your foolish hopes, for I will not simply tell you his plans because you wish me to.

-B

The king read her letter twice before tossing it into his fireplace and moving back to his desk to write another letter. The contents of what Baradeth had said frustrated him to no end.

Did she not hear him when Thranduil said he would offer her anything? Did she think him lying when he said those words to her?

B,

Would you like a dress made of rubies and sapphires? Would you like a mansion as big as the Sea of Rhûn? Would you like to be made the queen of Mirkwood? I would shower you with gold, my darling, and have a marble statue made in your likeness that reaches the skies if you wanted me to.

None of these things are easy or simple, dearest, but if you wish for them, then they shall be yours. If you yearn for more or for less, then so be it; I do not care what it is that you want, for it will be given to you no matter the cost.

All I need are a few bits of information.

-T

Even though the king wanted to deliver the letter to Baradeth's very hands, he knew he could not give it to her tonight. The soldiers would surely notice his abrupt coming and going of the elleth's home and he did not want to raise suspicion. So he ate dinner and tried his best to go to sleep.

The king was still awake when the sun rose; he could not silence of distract his overactive mind and decided to give stop trying and just go to Baradeth. If anyone questioned him, he would simply say that he wanted to have breakfast with the elleth before the day got too exciting.

The king dressed in fine brown and gold robes, grabbed a few apples and pieces of bread, and slowly made his way up the hill once more the meet with his new friend. Of course, he had the letter with him as well, hidden neatly up his long sleeve.

"Father," called Legolas as he jogged up to the king, "what are you doing up so early?"

"I wish to speak with Baradeth. You may join me if you would like." Thranduil held out an apple to his son, both surprising and pleasing the prince at the same time.

"Thank you father, I think that I shall."

Thranduil rapped on her front door only once before strolling in, expecting to see her in the kitchen or perhaps sitting in one of her chairs in the living room. The elleth was nowhere to be seen however and Thranduil wondered if she had left. Baradeth then came walking down the stairs, her clothes damp and her hair dripping down her back, having heard her door open and close.

"Can I help you?" She seemed to be a bit flustered, straightening her clothes as she walked. Thranduil smirked at this and held out his letter towards her unabashedly.

"Good morning to you, darling Baradeth. Have I interrupted something?"

The elleth quickly snatched the letter from the king's hand and watched Legolas carefully to try and see if he knew of their notes. From the squinting look of mistrust on the prince's face, though, she would have bet that he was clueless.

"Not at all; I merely lost track of the time as I bathed."

She placed the note in her pocket and pulled out the king's ring, slipping it into the pouch of his trousers with a sly wink as she walked past him to poke and prod at the fireplace. Thranduil's brow rose in surprise at the elleth's boldness, and the grin he bore could not leave. More and more intriguing became Baradeth as the king grew nearer to her.

"Bathed? Here, in your home? I was not aware you had running water." Said the prince, not catching the flirtatious move Baradeth had just pulled.

"Only on the second floor. The water comes from a hot spring nearby, runs through some simple piping, and is filtered with many pieces of cloth. How I managed to figure it out on my own is a magical mystery in itself." She paused then and saw what the elves held.

"Surely you're eating more than just that, right?" She asked, looking at the apples and bread in the king's hand. When the prince and king only looked at one another, the elleth sighed and shook her head, taking the food from their hands and going into the kitchen before they could protest.

"No wonder you two are so scrawny, if this is all you ever eat in the mornings."

Legolas frowned and went to glance over Baradeth's shoulder to see what she was making.

"Naturally you must know," Thranduil grumbled, the pleasant grin now gone from his face at being called scrawny, "that elves are not required to eat quite so much, so that we may stay light and quick on our feet."

Baradeth chuckled as she threw some ingredients together to make a salad.

"You think that starving yourself will make you faster? Well, it'll do you no good when you get fatigued from hunger and find yourself injured. All muscle and bone," she muttered to herself before turning about and lightly poking Legolas in the stomach. "You have hardly any fat on you to protect the important bits!"

"Whoa, hey!" The prince barked in offense, stepping back and covering his stomach. "Keep your hands to yourself."

The king had to keep himself from smirking at the outraged and scandalized look on his son's face, but it was a rather difficult feat to accomplish. Baradeth snorted and faced the counter once more to chop and mix the foods before her. Turning to his father, the prince mumbled something about "talk about my important bits", and grouchily stood against a pillar with his arms crossed.

"You stubborn elves can never listen to reason until proved wrong. Never mind, then. You two obviously didn't come here to be scolded by me, so what is it you want?"

"You are right, darling Baradeth. Yesterday, as you told us your story, you said something rather interesting."

"I consider most things that I say to be interesting." Chuckled Baradeth as she began putting large heaps of the salad into two bowls.

"Indeed they are. I believe you mentioned that you would explain your…" Thranduil paused as he was served his colorful food, "anatomy to Legolas and I."

He looked down into his bowl warily, unsure if it was sanitary to eat food prepared by a dead person. It did look quite scrumptious, though.

"Ah, I did say that, didn't I?" She wiped her hands on her pants and took out two clean mugs and began filling them with water. She passed the drinks to the elves before her and put her hands to her hips.

"Why don't I save that one for after the two of you've finished eating, yeah? Not exactly a conversation fit for breakfast."

"I promise to have a strong stomach if my father does." Legolas teased as he began spooning the green leaves into his mouth. Thranduil ignored his son's challenging jest and smiled for the elleth.

"Please, Baradeth, it is something that's not left my mind all night."

She smirked and crossed her arms.

"Glad to know that my anatomy still interests somebody."

Within a heartbeat the king's smile was replaced with a look of irritation while it was the prince's turn to keep from snickering.

"That is not what I—"

"I know, king Thranduil, I only joke. Very well, I suppose that I'll explain it to the best of my knowledge." A chair was pulled from its corner and abruptly spun around so that Baradeth could sit on it backwards as she made to explain herself. "And those bowls best be empty by the time I'm finished." Scolded Baradeth with a finger pointed at both of the elves.

She scrunched up her face and thought hard, trying to remember the first few years after being sent into the forest. It seemed like such a long time ago, and yet she could recall it all quite easily.

"I was both killed and brought back from the dead by the power of dark magic. It took me a while to figure it out, but being ran through with a sharpened blade more than once made my predicament quite obvious. Whatever wounds I get do not bleed or heal, so I must stitch them up and hope that the string holds."

Thranduil's eyes fell to the large cut on Baradeth's throat what had been made by Legolas's arrow the other day. Indeed it was not bloody or scabbed, but held closed by some perfectly sewn stitches. Had she first learned her skill of sewing from mending clothes, or from tending to wounds?

"I found out that my insides had dried and shriveled up, to the point where they became mere flecks of dust, when I was sliced right across the belly," with a dark grin Baradeth dragged her finger across her midsection crudely "and nothing fell out.

"I went days and days before realizing that I felt no hunger and hadn't had a single bite to eat, and it took me even longer to notice that I wasn't the slightest bit tired. I suppose that I can sleep, if I try hard enough, but it doesn't make me feel any different, and just seems like a waste of time."

"Then what do you do all night, if not sleep?" Questioned the prince before taking another bite.

"Oh, there's quite a lot to be done around here. Hunting, cleaning, cooking, sharpening weapons, keeping the pipes sturdy, making sure the trolls stay at bay," she paused and stared off in thought, scratching behind her ear, "sometimes I make clothes from what the intruders carry onto my lands, other times I just use the pelts and skins left of my hunting expeditions… and read, I mostly read."

Legolas chuckled at how simple she made her life sound. His days were certainly filled to the brim with important, law-concerning things, that he couldn't take even a moment to find a book what might interest him.

"Why do you make food if you do not eat it?" The prince asked.

"It serves more, than anything, as a reminder of what my life used to be. A bit of a hobby and a pass-time, too."

"Quite a lot to be done, indeed." Thranduil said doubtfully.

"Mock me if you wish, king, but some would be glad to have so little responsibilities. Few might even see my life as a vacation, if it weren't for all the violence and whatnot."

Baradeth took a deep breath, resting her cheek against her arm as it sat on the back of the chair.

"The real reason I don't like to sleep, I suppose, is because I'm worried I won't ever want to wake up. That I'd voluntarily put myself in a coma, just so I could forget the rest of the world and be left alone for once. Things would be so much simpler if I didn't wake up."

A sad and awkward silence fell across the room at the elleth's words. It was made clear that the elleth felt old and tired and was ready for whatever true death awaited her. Legolas wondered if one's life could be considered a "vacation" if it was filled with so much sorrow.

"In that case, I would prefer you to never sleep again." Thranduil said with stern eyes and his held chin high. Baradeth frowned and raised her head to look at the king in confusion.

"I might still make use of you, yet." The king explained.

The elleth smirked and sat straighter.

"I certainly hope so; I haven't been made handy for quite some time. Back to the topic of the moment, though."

"What happens if you lose a limb, or are burnt, like you said you were?" Legolas wondered as he handed his empty bowl over to Baradeth.

"You, little prince, are full of questions today." She said as she stood and moved to a large pot filled with water that sat on the counter made to be a makeshift sink.

"If any part of my body, for whatever reason, becomes not a part of my body, said part will disappear in a flurry of black mist and reappear where it once was. Toe, leg, breast, head; it all goes right back where it belongs."

"You've had your breast cut off?" Exclaimed king Thranduil in utter surprise and disgust. Baradeth hummed in affirmation as she scrubbed the bowl and put it back in a cupboard.

"I've lost both of them; more than once actually. You'd be surprised at the creativity of some people, king. And as for being burnt, well…that's a bit of an odd thing, even to me." She turned towards the elves and leaned back against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest.

"When I was tied to a pike with stacks and stacks of lumber at my feet, poisoned by the dwarfs so that I could not move, I had thought it really was the end of me. I thought 'this is it for good ol' Baradeth, creature in the forest'. Alas, it was more of a new beginning; at least for my body it was.

"Once the fire died down, and the ash and charcoal what had become of me threatened to float away in the wind, I came back. Whatever pieces of me that were lost quickly returned and the blackness peeled away from my flesh. My body was practically reborn because of the flames that had engulfed me. I had new, unscarred skin, hair regrown and shiny, bones and muscles strong as ever; my organs and whatnot even recovered, fresh as the day I'd first been brought back. A bit of an odd thing, surly."

"Destroyed by fire, reborn by ash; quite similar to a phoenix, I think." Mentioned the king. Thranduil stood and took his bowl to the pot of water to wash it himself, casting a sideways glance at Baradeth every now and then.

The elleth's brow furrowed as she tried to think of what a phoenix might be.

"It's a bird," Legolas explained, "that when it dies, it goes up in flames and is, as my father said, reborn from its own ashes. It's not real of course, only a myth."

"You mean to say that you think it is a myth." Baradeth corrected. "For many people think the creature in the woods to also be a myth, and yet here I stand." She gestured to herself with a grin and took the bowl from Thranduil's hands to quickly dry it off and place it with the others.

Legolas watched this with keen eyes and yet another thought struck his mind.

"I suppose you are right…pardon the question, but you wouldn't happen to be a mother, would you?" Baradeth's actions slowed and came to a stop; she refused to look either elf in the eye. Thranduil shot his son a warning glance, displeased at the obvious display of uneasiness that Legolas had brought to their host. The prince was quick to bow and apologize.

"I am sorry, Baradeth, to turn your mind towards whatever sorrow it is that burdens your heart."

"You speak far too carelessly, young prince." She muttered, walking past them and to the front door.

Thranduil's eyes grew in worry that his son might have upset the elleth so terribly that she would just leave them there. Hopefully whatever friendship there was between them, however small or quickly made, would not be ended so abruptly. He stepped after Baradeth in hopes to console her, but her next words calmed his anxiety, if only slightly.

"My home is starting to feel a tad too cramped, don't you think? I am going for a walk, feel free to join me." Her hand reached out and took hold of her black cloak of wolf's fur before strolling outside. The king and prince followed her, slightly relieved that they would not be shunned.

Prince Legolas could not help feeling rather terrible for being such a nuisance, and decided that his father should do the speaking from now on. He might be wondering of her past now, and yearning to ask of her family, but held his tongue still for fear of further upsetting Baradeth. The magic, what had made him act so sourly towards her yesterday, must have changed so that he could not tell when to necessarily shut his trap.

Baradeth lead them down the hill and to the right of her house, following alongside some piping that hid itself in the grass that would lead to the hot spring it was connected to. The king and prince quietly walked in time beside the elleth, Thranduil offering his arm for her to take. At first, she didn't seem to understand what he was doing, before she wrapped her own arm around his and let his other hand pat the top of hers in a comforting manner.

"It's been quite a while since a man has offered me his arm." She said. Thranduil did not respond, and just let Baradeth lead him and his son where she wanted. He was slightly on edge, not having been familiar to these woods, but tried not to show it for the sake of the elleth's still-tender heart.

"I once had a husband. He was a loving person; very strict and lacking of humor, but kind and loving nonetheless. We happily raised a son and a daughter together in the Grey Havens, up to the very moment when I was called by the ruler of our homeland." Her tone was soft yet emotionless, almost as if she wasn't aware that she was speaking.

"I had once been apart of the small group of archers there, before my husband and I decided to start a family, and the ruler was asking for the aid of everyone who had ever served him. He had every right to, and I will never call him an unfair ruler, for it was the beginning of the Second Age, and Sauron was making his rings.

"There were many jobs for all of us. Most were meant to stay in the city and protect its people, while others had more specific jobs that lead them far from their families and homes. My mission took me to the enemy's lair and into the path of danger."

Their walk had veered to the right of the piping and onto a new path, leading them to a clearing of soft green grass and white wildflowers. There was an interesting tree near the back of the path that bent and curled on its own, as a snake would wind around someone's leg, and had a small stream of water falling from its branches into the eye of the tree's cylindrical shape. Baradeth stared into that waterfall longingly.

"I was called Hallbess then, because I was always doing things in secret." Hallbess translated into hidden wife. "My mother did not tell my father—who was a married noble—that she was pregnant with me for fear of losing his love, and so I was born out of wedlock and into seclusion. It was no use though; he quickly found out about me and made ruin of my family's name.

"I was hardly as mistreated as my mother thought I would be, but only because I knew when to run away and hide. After I became of age, I worked as a spy of sorts for Grey Haven, learning what goods were being traded where, what kings had what plans in mind for their cities; things of that sort. I was always horrible with a bow and arrow, and much too slow to wield a sword, but I knew how to be as silent and nimble as a fox.

"It was because of my career of investigating other peoples' business that the making of Sauron's One Ring came to be known by others. I watched with my very eyes from the edge of Mount Doom as the ring was forged, felt the magma's heat upon my skin. I sent word to my ruler of the evil being born before me as soon as possible…I paid for this, and many other things I'd done to wrong the enemy, dearly."

Baradeth sighed and moved closer to the tree, letting her arm slip from the king's. Clearly lost in thought, she reached up and ran her fingers through the mixture of water and tree sap, watching it ripple and divide around her digits.

"I suppose that they've forgotten about me by now—my husband and children, that is. You spoke of myths earlier, my prince…I might very well be one to them. They must have moved on in their lives and found other people to love and call their own. I hope that they have; it's been a hundred years, at least." Her dripping hand moved back to her side, and the king and prince observed as her head lowered dejectedly.

"To know that I caused even a moment of grief in their hearts is painful enough as it is…but to think they've suffered for one hundred years because of my carelessness…I cannot…fathom such a thing."

Baradeth covered her face and her shoulders began to tremble as she fought so hard to hide the tears falling from her eyes. Thranduil quickly stepped beside her and engulfed her with his arms, his robes and sashes catching each droplet as the descended. He hushed her and softly stroked her hair, lightly waving Legolas off as he did so.

"It is alright, my darling Baradeth, there, there. Oh, my sweet, tender-hearted Baradeth…you must not let these memories plague you so. I too have lost a loved one, and I too have shed many a tear for my loss." He pulled away and palmed her face in his hands and gazed into her white eyes as he wiped the wetness from her cheeks.

"Do not lose yourself in your sorrow, Baradeth, lest you wish to become a cold, cruel creature like me."

Baradeth shut her eyes tightly and rested her forehead in the hollow of Thranduil's throat, trying to regain her composure. When she spoke, it was in a broken and breathy voice, but of strong words.

"Cold, cruel creatures do not comfort strangers when they cry."

…

T,

I am willing to make a deal.

-B