A/N: Welcome to the last chapter of part one. Thank you to all my readers and reviewers, especially LadyForlong for your continued support. I hope you enjoy! Can't wait to bring you the first chapter of part two very soon!

Chapter Nineteen - Maedeth

Maedeth opened her eyes, staring up at the void-dark ceiling speckled with tiny white quartz. In the darkness of the dwarven guest chambers, she could almost pretend she stared up at a night sky. But she didn't. And she needed to.

Her eyes stung. Maedeth rolled onto her side as she sat up in bed. There would be time for crying later, time for self pity over her failure to secure promises of aid from King Durin. She placed a gentle hand on a smooth blue gem on her side table. Soft light bathed the room in a gentle sea-storm blue grey.

Piece by piece, she pulled on her traveling gear. Lórinand still lay beyond the cavern walls. She'd only been there twice before, both times when much younger and a little less weary of the world. Maedeth tried not to consider how five hundred years may have changed her ability to fall in love with the Golden Wood again.

"Elladan?"

She forced her voice to go above the whisper she wished it could stay at. He had taken an adjacent guest room, connected by a small common area. Moments later, he appeared at her door. Already dressed clean greys and greens, sword strapped to his belt, she could've sworn he looked almost excited.

"Yes?"

She walked over, poking at the polished six pointed star clasping his cloak. Maedeth smiled. "Ready to leave these Halls then?"

Elladan shrugged. "Were we on a kinder errand, perhaps I could enjoy Hadhodrond more than I am at this moment. And I cannot lie," he said, unable to keep from grinning, "I am quite excited to see my family again. It's been years."

"Too many."

Maedeth had seen Arwen a few decades prior, but it had been longer since she'd seen Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. She guessed it was much the same for Elladan. As they extinguished the dwarven crystal lights and stepped out into the main street of Khazad-dûm to await their escort, she allowed herself to look forward to it.

Much of the heavy lifting would hopefully already be done. King Amroth had become good friends with Galadriel and Celeborn. Friendships again strengthened between Silvan, Sindar, and Noldor alike. As they followed their newest guide, a young dwarf wielding two small axes on his back, she focused on the next task.

"We are nearing the Bridge of Khazad-dûm," said the guide. "From there, you will go across the First Hall out into the Dimrill Dale beyond."

Nothing prepared Maedeth for the immensity of the chasm awaiting them. There was a bustle all around them, not of miners and craftsmen but of families and fellowship. And yet beyond them rose a black pit straight down and stretching as far as she could see through the bones of the earth. From where they stood looking down upon it, fear rose in her chest at the thought of crossing such a wide span over what she now realized was such a thin bridge.

The bridge was impossible to miss. Illuminated by the sun cascading through high windows in the First Hall beyond, it jutted out like a long claw made of grey stone. Two dwarves stood on either side of either entrance to the bridge, armored in the same gear as the royal guard of King Durin VI. Sunlight glittered off their blades.

"Take the bridge with care, but trust in its stonework," their guide said. "You will cross without concern."

She wished she had his confidence. They passed out of the winding streets of carved out homesteads and reached the flat stone shelf beside the chasm where several children played and minstrels made sweet music with harps and bells.

Her heart pounded. She had eyes only for the bridge. Their guide spoke to the guards standing at the entrance in Khuzdul. Maedeth turned to Elladan, face flushing as she tried to catch her breath. The darkness below would surely swallow her. She just knew it-

"I will go first," Elladan said.

Before Maedeth could protest or thank him, he bowed to their guide, and stepped onto the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. Only one could walk abreast at a time, a safety measure for the inhabitants of the mountain but treacherous for any with less sure footing. Elladan looked both far too large for the dwarven bridge and far too small against the black pit for her to ease her fears. But what was there to do, but go on?

Maedeth stepped forward. She bowed to the dwarves. They bowed back. Some ten paces ahead walked Elladan, a constant source of light amongst the darkness. She focused on the grey of his cloak.

She could've kissed the ground when they reached the other side had she not been representing powers more important than herself. It had been days since they'd seen much sunlight, but cold and piercing shined a late afternoon sun through the Eastern windows. She closed her eyes and smiled.

"Are you ready to see the green earth again?" Elladan asked.

"Am I ever," she said. Maedeth opened her eyes and grinned.

The Great Gate stood wide open at the top of the meandering stairs. The later afternoon sun melted the last remnants of a snowfall in the Dimrill Dale. Maedeth's eyes widened as she took in the beauty. Muddy but still green grass accompanied a small road down and away from the Great Gates. Beyond that lay the beginnings of the Silverlode and the Golden Wood. But the dark lake in the valley held all her attention.

"We should look in the lake," Elladan said.

She nodded. "Indeed. I would pay some homage to Durin's Stone before we move on. Perhaps it will gain us the goodwill of the dwarves."

Maedeth had never looked in Mirrormere before. As they wandered down the road, forgetting for a moment their haste, she felt a deep excitement. How many had looked in those waters? Waters that had stood in the crook of the Misty Mountains since the days before sun and moon?

They came upon Durin's Stone. It stood about Elladan's height, though the crowned king's face had long since weathered. She wondered why they did not repair it? Perhaps they thought it better to preserve this craftsmanship than replace it with their own.

Neither spoke. A gentle breeze moved through the valley, but the lake barely stirred. How many had stood before this monument before? They were so small in this wide world, even those with the blood of Noldorin royalty.

Maedeth moved to the bank of the Mirrormere. The dark blue waters looked freezing, though no ice formed to cover the beauty below, sparkling like with stars or perhaps shavings of fine metals and gems. As Elladan stood beside her, she looked at his reflection. They'd both washed and dressed in their finest that morning. Excitement glittered in his silver grey eyes.

She mirrored that, as they approached the edges of Lórinand. As the golden glow of evening bathed the Mellyrn trees in warmth, she listened for the singers. Their songs floated on the breeze from deep in the forest. Her heart lifted. She felt almost young again.

"Welcome, Lord Elladan of Rivendell, and welcome Lady Maedeth of Arthedain."

They found a handful of elves waiting for them at a river crossing. Their hair colors ranged from brown to blond, each in simple, natural colors with bows of yew. All of them smiled and bowed. The one who had spoken stepped forward.

"I am Elanorion. Allow us to accompany you to Cerin Amroth," he said. "If we walk through the night we can arrive by midday!"

Maedeth grinned. She let out a sigh of relief. She had not anticipated running into trouble getting into the kingdom but as they graciously accepted the offer of escort, she realized some part of her felt a shadow's grip.

They marched mostly in silence. The minstrels of Amroth's kingdom could be heard through all the trees and over any stream, a lullaby by night and a rousing anthem in the day. She focused on the beauty around her, the protection she could feel, and tried to breathe.

It had been too long since she'd just been able to breathe.

"Do they know to expect you?" Elanorion asked, as the sun climbed to mid morning. "Your names are of course known to us on the borders but not your task."

"Likely not," Maedeath said. "But I am eager to treat with King Amroth. Thank you for all your help."

"Of course. And Lord Elladan, your sister is here as well. She has been tutoring some of the children in the songs of Rivendell," Elanorion said. "My own daughter among them."

Elladan grinned. They came to stand at the foot of Cerin Amroth, the massive hill rising through the golden trees crowned with a simple, but beautiful, elven structure. "I am glad of it!"

"Follow me."

Elanorion led them up the hill. Under the King's Talan in the highest tree upon Cerin Amroth sat a garden filled with flowers, bushes, and running water. Their escort showed them in through a trellised gate. Maedeth grinned and thanked him.

"Enjoy your stay," he said.

Maedeth turned back to the garden. At the center stood a pedestal with a basin, surrounded by four elves. King Amroth sat upon a bench, running a hand over his mouth. Celeborn and Galadriel eyed the basin. Alone, to the side, Arwen wept.

Elladan rushed forward. He went to his sister immediately, speaking words of comfort or confusion, Maedeth couldn't tell. The shadow that had held her heart returned with vengeance. Instead of creeping down her spine, it shot through her like lightning in a thunderstorm.

Celeborn took Amroth aside, glancing their way only once. But Galadriel looked up from the basin and straight at Maedeth. She frowned.

"It is a grave hour that brings you to the Golden Wood, Maedeth." Her voice stayed just above a whisper, eyes wide as she stared unblinking at her approach.

Maedeth slowed her pace. All hours were grave these days. "Doom awaits us in Arthedain. What doom has befallen this kingdom?"

Galadriel closed her eyes. She shivered for a moment, before reaching out a hand. "Come. Do you wish to see?"

See? Maedeth glanced at the basin. Galadriel explained how it worked, the new Mirror she had gifted to King Amroth as a token of friendship between their peoples. She had woven some of the magic of Melian she had learned long ages before in Doriath and Menegroth.

"I fear what you will see," Galadriel said.

Elladan looked over from his still weeping sister, who would say nothing. "Speak plainly, please!"

"I am, Elladan."

"I'll look."

Maedeth did not hesitate any longer. She'd made the decision. She would see the Doom Galadriel spoke of. The choice made that could not be unmade.

Her tears fell before she saw Rínior. The splashed into the water, rippling its surface until she saw the clear, sharp eyes of her brother reflected back. She saw the twisting of his blade, the rivers of blood through the Weather Hills. She saw the darkness in his heart and she wept.

Then she heard the words. His clash with Elrohir. His ruthless abandon. Each slam of his steel blade on armor and shield. She heard the tearing of flesh and the rending of clothes. She witnessed the spirit of fire overtake him.

"What is this?" Elladan said, whispering from the other side of the mirror. He too had seen it. "What has he done?"

Maedeth's mouth ran dry. Her eyes darkened for a moment. The shadow dread filled her whole body. She knew what he had done. And for a moment, she understood it. He wanted to end the war. The endless war, the war they had inherited and been told to fight for five hundred years. He was ending it.

"'Tears unnumbered ye shall shed'," Galadriel said, bringing up the first line of the Doom of Mandos. The Doom of the House of Fëanor. The doom of their house. The curse of her life.

Celeborn returned, without King Amroth. "We must send word to Rivendell and Arthedain," he said. "The wrath of the house of Fëanor is not to be ignored."

But Maedeth still stared at her crying face in the now simple water basin. Red hair, beautifully braided that morning, mocked her. Her eyes matched her brother's. What was the point now? Why did they seek out allies when her own brother tried to bring ruin down on Arthedain?

"Maedeth."

She looked up at Elladan. Tears streamed down his face. Her heart crumbled; Rínior had been dear not only to her. They'd watched Elrohir flee, anger and agony on his face. Elladan covered his mouth, strangling back the tears. Tiniel needed them. Mirien needed them. The North needed them. Numbness settled in the pit of her stomach.

In a thin whisper, she finally spoke.

"We need to go home."