AN/ I've been wanting to write this chapter since I first wrote this fic! I am so excited to share it with you! Not my best chap, but oh well. It's as good as it's going to get *sigh* very, very short chapter. Sorry, not sorry. I currently am drowning in work and exams so please bear with me. Thnx :)

all reviews have been answered privately. pm off: the7horcrux: it was an honest mistake, one I could definitively done myself. *cough* hope you like this chap! :)

Also, I plan to delete all my ANs, once I complete this story, bc, right now, it looks a little (okay, very) messy. :)

in 2021 we are. (ok, I know I'm not Yoda, but who cares?)

. . . Chapter 20- Reunited . . .

.~.

" Be at peace,

Tempest tossed seas of soul,

Give me rest,

From doubt, and fear,

Sun find my face,

Light find my heart,

Song find my story,

Smile find my face,

Be at peace,

Be at peace,

For my life is finite,

And these storms,

Have raged too long,

Even winter,

Must surrender spring "

- R. Queen

.~.

Alysae sat quietly in a corner of Celeborn's grand library, her face resting on her hand, and her knees drawn up in the chair, as she had a book open on her lap. If one had passed by her, she would not have noticed for she was completely enthralled and lost in a far away marvellous land. Her hair like golden sunshine fell over her shoulder and against her cheek, and her eyes reflected the burning lights of the candles as they darted from line to line.

No sound was uttered, safe for the low turning of pages, and her soft breathing.

Lord Celeborn himself sat not a few footsteps away, scrolls and parchments littering a long table in front of him. He was focused on scribbling with his quill a few notes, correcting things here and there; but his gaze often strayed to the small girl in the too big armchair for her, as a small smile made its way on the usual stern Elf Lord's face.

He returned to his work, dipping his quill in the small pot of ink, and wrote in flowing script the answers to the next few letters.

There came the sound of a page being turned, and once more he looked at the girl. This time, as he studied her, he noticed shadows under her eyes, and pale and gaunt skin, that could only be seen if observed carefully. Celeborn frowned.

His wife, Galadriel, told him everything, safe for some visions, which she kept for herself. That did not bother him very much, as he understood the burden of knowledge about the future. Indeed, Lord Celeborn knew the fate of Alysae; he knew that the mirror had shown she would die. How or when or where? He did not know.

Even though he was aware she was mortal, and as such doomed to old age and death- although some might call it a gift - it still pained him to hear about her near passing, as he had grown fond of her. When he looked at her, he was reminded of his daughter, Celebrìan.

Celebrìan. She was his little gwilwileth, his little butterfly, a ray of sunshine in his life. That had changed, when she had been ripped from the lives of her family, of her parents, her husband, and her children, when she had been captured by Orcs. She was never the same afterwards.

She had sailed to the Undying Lands, in hopes of finding healing there.

That day, he had lost all hope.

And now, he found himself caring for the mortal girl, and he understood why she was so beloved by the elves. He felt a small twinge of sadness as his gaze returned to his parchments.

She was going to die, still a child. And there was nothing anyone could do.

-xxx-

The weary Fellowship had been led to a small clearing by a couple of tall, lithe elves, and were now in the process of taking out their packs to set up their bedrolls. The great roots of the mallorn trees twisted like many large serpents, forming small caves and bumps to snuggle in, especially as they were covered in fluffy green moss.

They were still awed by the beauty of Lothlorien, the golden boughs above, the silver glow like walking in a beautiful dream or among moonlight... Well, safe for Aragorn, as he had already traveled through these woods before; but it was still as mighty and impressive as the first time he'd seen it.

Sam's eyes were wide with wonder, his mouth slightly parted. "Elves living in trees of gold...! Now, what would my ol' Gaffer say?" he could be heard murmuring.

Frodo sat a little away from them all, his back half turned, staring into the distance. From times to times, his hand could be seen darting to his collar, before it fell away. His shoulders were slumped.

A little further away, Aragorn tucked a small golden bloom of elanor in his pocket with a small sigh. Arwen vanimelda, namarië!* he had said not long ago, and his heart ached. His fingers longed to touch the silver necklace beneath his tunic.

"Do you reckon they have food?" whispered Pippin anxiously to Merry.

He gave a tired snort. "Pippin, elves have to eat too, don't they? I'm sure they have food." He returned to his half empty pack.

"Yes, but," said Pippin exasperately, "when are we going to eat?"

"I don't know, Pip."

"But I'm hungry," whined Pippin.

That brought smiles to the Company, although they were small, tired and weary, just like themselves. Pippin muttered under his breath, kicking a pebble to the side.

Suddenly Legolas cocked his head to the side, listenening intently. Life in the wild had sharpened their senses, and made them wary and ready for attacks, so as such, the Fellowship tensed, expecting danger.

"What is it?" asked Aragorn, fingers resting on the hilt of his sword.

Legolas frowned a little, his head still tilted, before a wide smile began to spread across his face.

Moments later, the sound of running footsteps came and grew louder, and a yellow and green blur shot through the air, straight at the elf prince. He nearly toppled over but managed to steady himself.

"Legolas!" cried a young female voice.

A blonde girl had her arms around the elven archer, her face hidden from view. Legolas buried his face in her hair as his arms tightened around her.

"Alysae?" came the incredulous voice of Pippin. Which was promptly ignored.

Alysae's shoulders were slightly shaking, and Legolas' mouth seemed to be moving, speaking words too softly for the Fellowship to understand. His hands ran over Alysae's back.

"Oh, Legolas," said Alysae in a choked voice, "I have missed you so much."

"So did I," murmured Legolas against her hair, "I thought of you at every time of the day."

She sniffed, drawing back a little, and her face was wet with tears. "I thought you were going to die."

"But I am here now," he said gently. He reached out to wipe her face with his hands. "Do not cry, gwathel, or else I shall cry too."

She let out a small giggle, wiping the rest of her tears with her sleeves. "We would not want to destroy your reputation, now, would we?"

He smiled. "Of course not." He brought her back in his arms, crushing her to his chest.

-xxx-

AN and Glossary:

*Words spoken by Aragorn on the hill of Cerin Amroth, as he remembered the moment where he and Arwen pledged their troth. Arwen vanimelda, namarië! means Fair Arwen, farewell! Taken from "Lothlorien", The Fellowship of the Ring. ~~just for some added fun! ;)

As you surely remember, gwathel means sister. It actually means sworn sister, but as I did not find the actual word for sister, I decided it was going to mean sister, as in kin.

gwilwileth - butterfly

So, what did you think? Anyone as happy as I am to be reunited with the Fellowship? :)