Closing his eyes sadly, Thranduil hugged Alassë close and began to rock her gently. She continued to sob, her whole body shuddering as she hid her face away; unable to look at any of the others, terrified of the hatred she was sure she would see.
"Alassë," said Elrond gently, kneeling beside Thranduil. The child flinched at the sound of her name and continued to hide her face in Thranduil's shoulder.
"Look at me, child," asked Elrond softly and Alassë reluctantly obeyed, tears streaming down her face. She did not let go of Thranduil.
"None of this was your fault," Elrond told her, reaching out to wipe her tears away with gentle fingers. "None of it. It was your Nana's decision, little one. You could not have changed it in any way. Trust me, it was not your fault."
"No mother would ever put her own life before that of her child," whispered Thranduil, pressing a kiss onto her short blond hair. "Your Nana did what every other parent in Middle Earth would have done. In a life threatening situation, I would have given my own life to save Legolas, just as Elrond and Celeborn would give their lives to save the twins or Haldir."
"Of course we would," said Celeborn, who was wiping Haldir's red eyes. "Alassë, how on earth could you have been responsible for any of that? Did you tell your Nana not to take the herbs?" Alassë shook her head, hiding her face in Thranduil's chest.
"Could you have stopped her from refusing to take them? Or asked her to change her mind?" The child shook her head again. "Then how can you believe it was your fault, penneth? You had not even taken your first breath at that stage. You could have done nothing to change the way it happened!"
"Then why did they hate me?" sobbed the child, her expression so painfully confused that Glorfindel wanted nothing more than to storm out, find her brothers and give each one of them a hiding they would never forget!
"Your father did not hate you, child. You must have seen that," Celeborn told her softly. "And nor did your twin."
"I do not think your brothers really hated you either," Thranduil explained, turning her on his lap so that she was looking into his eyes. "Little one, you must understand that grief…grief can make people do things they'd never even think about in other circumstances. It can make you heartless and cold. Believe me, tithen-pen, I know."
Elrond blinked in shock, realising the memories Thranduil was referring to, while Celeborn regarded his younger kinsman with a mixture of pride and sympathy in his eyes.
"Many, many years ago, hundreds of elves were involved in a great battle against darkness," Thranduil explained, while Alassë hung on his every word. "And both Lord Elrond and I fought in it, though were both very young at the time. I swore to fight at my Ada's side; to make sure nothing happened to him and so I followed him when he led an early attack. But I could not keep him in my sights every moment and, as we were overwhelmed by orcs, I lost sight of him. In the haze of blood and screams, I could only concentrate on staying alive. When the battle was concluded, I found my Ada lying near a large group of my friends. The servants of darkness had slain him, as they had slain so many others.
Hearing the pain in his father's voice, Legolas snuggled closer to Thranduil's side and placed a small hand in his father's. Thranduil looked down at his blue-eyed son and flashed him an affectionate smile as he squeezed the little hand and continued.
"While I knelt beside him, I let my heart be overcome with grief and self-hatred. How could I have been so stupid as to take my eyes away from him, when I had sworn to protect him? I had let him die. I had failed him. I had let my ada down. How could I have been so weak?
I simply sat there, crying myself into a stupor, letting rage and grief fill my heart. I do not know how long I would have stayed there if Elrond had not found me. When he did, he came up behind me and embraced me, telling me how sorry he was for what had happened. He explained to me how the rest of the battle had concluded; who else had been lost, but I heard not a word.
I pulled away from his embrace, glaring at him with a fury like I had never known before. My destructive guilt suddenly found a new target in Elrond. I told him that it was his fault; that he had not responded to our calls for help soon enough; that he had taken my ada from me; that I hated him. I accused him of all sorts of terrible things, simply screaming at him as a way to get rid of the grief that was hurting me so profoundly. I could have carried on like that for hours, so great a frenzy was I in, until I met his eyes and saw the tears he had been shedding. His earlier information suddenly registered with me. He had lost Ereinion Gil-Galad, who had meant as much to him as my own Ada had to me. The sudden realisation and the hurt in his eyes shook me to the core and caused me to come to my senses.
This was my greatest friend; an elf whom I had long loved as a brother. And I was hurting him so vindictively, merely because I was grieving. I realised that my grief had ruled my heart and my mouth momentarily and before I knew it, I sank to my knees, sobbing and begging his forgiveness over and over again."
"And of course I forgave him," Elrond said, continuing the tale. "For I knew he had not meant those words. His heart was hurting. Thranduil did not hate me – he was just struggling to cope with the pain inside him. I do not believe that your brothers truly hated you, little one. I think that they too were overcome with grief and showed it in the only way they could think of – by hurting you. Does this help you understand, sweetling? I know it is difficult for you. But they were not hurting you because you were to blame for the death of your Nana. They were hurting you in an unforgiveable way because their misplaced grief made their hearts cruel and bitter. Do you see what we are trying to tell you?"
Stunned, Alassë could only nod. She did see. It did not make it easier for her to think about her past; one conversation could not banish years of fear and grief, but suddenly it occurred to her that it might not have been completely her fault.
"Alassë, was Thranduil a bad son for letting his ada out of his sight while he was fighting?" prompted Celeborn gently. She shook her head. "So are you a bad elfling for being blamed for something you didn't do?" She hesitated, and then shook her head uncertainly.
"No, child, you are not." Thranduil embraced her for a moment, as he met Elrond's eyes. The Lord of Imladris smiled slightly. It would take more than this to help Alassë forget the guilt she had heaped unjustly upon herself, but at least this was a start, thanks to Thranduil sharing his memories of the horrific battle of the Last Alliance.
"I do not think you are bad," said Legolas unexpectedly, reaching out to touch her hand. Thranduil looked down at his son and smiled, ruffling his hair. He knew that being accepted by children of her own age would help her a great deal and they all knew that they could count on the compassion of all the younger elves in the room.
"Of course we do not," said Elladan, who was still very pale. "I think your brothers were vile and cruel! They are the ones who should be punished!"
Alassë began to cry again, though this time they were tears of mingled relief and confusion. She had thought they would call her a murderer; scum; a lowlife. But they had not. They had said she was not bad. And the knowledge that her Ada had not wanted her dead was such a balm to her broken heart.
"So many tears from such innocent eyes," murmured Elrond sadly, picking her up from Thranduil's lap and sitting her on his own. It still pained him to see how the child flinched at the sound of her name – that would have to be addressed. But now that she had her memories back, he had a very important question to ask her.
"Little one, before we looked into this mirror, I offered to let you live here in Imladris and grow up as my daughter. This does not change in anyway because of what we saw, as you are utterly blameless. However, now that you can remember who you are and where you come from I must give you the choice; we can help you find your family if you want to go back to them…"
"No! Please no! Do not send me back there!" pleaded Alassë desperately, the relief she had shown a moment ago replaced by the old terror. While she thought she would like to see Ada and Feredir again, nothing on earth would ever make her go near Alyan or any of her other brothers again; not after what they'd made her endure. She would not risk being thrown back into the clutches of Faelurinc. She shivered as she remembered what he'd threatened to do if she ever tried to run away. And her father thought she was dead anyway…
"Please do not send me back," she pleaded tearfully, looking up at Elrond with wide eyes.
"Calm yourself, sweetling; I had no intention of sending you back unless that was your express wish. I would much prefer that you stay here where you are safe. Is that what you would like?" Alassë nodded and Elrond smiled.
"Good, for that is what the rest of my family would like too." he told her, smoothing back her blond hair. "We have always wanted another addition. And you deserve so much love."
Alassë put her arms around him, leaning into his chest; unable to believe that this kind, gentle elf-lord would still want to become her new Ada, even after all they'd seen in the mirror. And…she would have a sister. She had never had a sister before. And two brothers…
At this thought, her blood went cold again. Other than Feredir, who was her twin and therefore more special, her experience with brothers had been very bad. She turned timidly and met Elladan's clear grey eyes.
"They were not real brothers, little one," he said simply, uncannily reading her thoughts. "Brothers are supposed to look after their sisters, not hurt them. Elrohir and I will show you what it means to have real brothers."
Elrond could not help but smile, pleased and proud at this grave speech from his eldest son. He knew that even a few weeks spent around the twins, Legolas and Haldir would turn the mouse-like little one on his knee into a completely different elfling – the child she should have been all along.
Suddenly a low grumbling was heard in the room. Elrohir blushed sheepishly and put his hands on his stomach. The others simply laughed.
"I think all our stomachs will be answering yours soon, ion-nin," chuckled Elrond affectionately. "It is late morning now, and no one has yet partaken of their break of fast. You young ones may go down now if you like. I expect Celebrian and Arwen are already there. We will join you in but a moment with Alassë.
As Legolas, Haldir and the twins proceeded out of the door, Elrond once again noticed how the young child cringed at the sound of her own name. It stood as testimony to the depth of the emotional scars on her young soul.
"Why do you hate to hear your name so badly?" he asked, while checking that the splints on her ankle were still firmly in place.
"It is a stupid name!" Alassë burst out shakily. "They should not have called me joy, for as soon as I arrived, I caused sadness to all my family. I made everyone unhappy as when they saw me, they remembered Nana dying. I hate that name! Alyan was right to curse it! I caused too much sorrow to be my Ada's joy!"
Once again, they were at the crux of the matter. The child still bore so much needless guilt. And she would never recover if she kept being thrust back into desolate memories every time someone said her name.
"I think perhaps," said Mithrandir, speaking for the first time since watching the visions in the mirror. "That it would be wise to give this elfling another name. It may help her heal faster, and will probably help her adapt more quickly to a new life – she will not be thrown back into the past so often; as she would be by the sound of the name she hates."
"Would you prefer it if we called you by another name?" asked Celeborn gently, looking into the child's unhappy countenance.
"Call me anything! Just please not that name! I do not want to be Alassë anymore!" she pleaded, and the four elven lords exchanged looks of agreement with the wizard. The time had come to wash the little one's guilt all away and give her the life that had been kept from her from birth. Now they would just have to think of a name that suited her.