Part Five:
Istar

Legolas woke up in Melia’s bed the next morning and found that he was alone.

He had expected to wake up to find her in his arms, the place where she had been nestled comfortably after they had hours spent in the confines of her room, making love repeatedly through the course of the night. As he took a deep breath and took in the lingering scent of her against the sheet, he was filled the memories of their passion the night before. He was uncertain of what he had expected their first coupling would be like and he was pleasantly surprised that she was able to match him in stamina and desire. It had all been about exploration and they did so fully, with all reservations and fears about the unhappy tragedy of their future all but forgotten. Each time he heard her call his name in wild abandon, he became convinced that he could never have another woman again, without wanting it to be her.

At an hour that was too late for either to remember, Legolas had finally succumbed to a happy but exhausted sleep with Melia lying against him in a similar state of weariness. They were both spent after hours of passion and Legolas remembered thinking, as he drifted into his dreams, that there was nothing finer than having her in his embrace after such a sensuous exchange. When he opened his eyes and discovered that the warmth of her body was not against him, his mind snapped quickly out of its fog to full alertness. He sat up immediately and allowed his gaze to sweep across the room, searching for her even though his senses told him that he was alone.

It was only when his eyes caught sight of the necklace lying against the pillow beside him, did he understand that she was gone.

There was no message left with the chain of gold but then its presence beside him was explanation enough and Legolas found himself staring at it, his jaw clenching with anger and despair at the understanding of what she had done. Climbing out of the bed, there was no need for any further investigation because he knew what he would find even before he sought it out. However, his heart refused to believe what his mind knew to be a certainty and he found himself compelled to seek out any hope that would allow him to believe that she had not simply left him after all they had been to each other the night before.

Unfortunately, there was none to find. All that was left of her presence in this room was the memory of their passion and the necklace he clutched in his hands in something of a daze. Everything that belonged to her while she had occupied this room was absent and Legolas wondered how much of this she had planned before she had given herself to him last night. Was that why she had allowed him to make love to her, because she was leaving him in the morning? Legolas knew that nothing had been solved in their heated passion but he had hoped that her willingness to trust him with her body might smooth the way to trusting him with her heart. Now it appeared, that had been his dream, not hers.

He would have been crushed with heartache if he were not so furious with her.

His anger kept the pain of her departure at reasonable levels and using its momentum, he dressed quickly and stormed out of her room, with every intention of going after her because she was not going to arbitrarily decided that this was the way things would go between them. He had attempted to be a gentlemen about this with her, tried his hardest to be sympathetic to her feelings but the truth was; she had inspired him into a proper fury and he was not going to simply suffocate its expression. It was time she listened to what he had to say instead of making her mind up for both of them.

Getting dressed quickly, he was a walking thunderstorm when he emerged down the hallway, striding forcefully to his own suite of room in the palace so that he could make haste in his pursuit after Melia. It was not to be underestimated the anger he felt at her for what she had done, for elves took their affairs seriously and this departure like a thief in the night had incensed him more than he thought possible. He supposed there was a certain irony to it all. In his lifetime, he had recalled being the one to depart in the morning with some benefice left behind to the lover who had shared the night with him. This was the first time that he had been on the receiving end of such a farewell. He dare say he did not like it very much.

He was walking past the throne room when he heard Thranduil’s voice calling out to him from the open doors. Legolas froze in his step, not wishing to explain to his father what his intentions were this morning especially when that intent would see him leaving court again. He had planned to slip away without notice, leaving word behind that he would be back once he had settled this matter with Melia. Taking a deep breath because there was no way he could avoid this confrontation now that his father had seen him, Legolas forced away the furious emotions running through him and returned himself to some semblance of calm.

"Father," he replied entering the room, his hand slipping the chain into the pocket of his tunic.

Thranduil was seated on top of his throne, his eyes studying some parchments that were no doubt reports of some kind pertaining to the business of his kingdom, appearing not all suspect that something might be wrong with his son. He did not raise his eyes to meet Legolas as his son approached, maintaining his gaze instead upon the papers before him.

"The housekeeper tells me that you did not sleep in your bed last night," Thranduil remarked casually.

Legolas flinched, feeling a little embarrassed that his activities last night had reached his father’s ears. Personally, he preferred to keep his affairs private even though realistically, this was Thranduil’s house and the king had a right to know what took place within it, no matter how personal the matter might be. It took a few seconds before he answered but when he did, Legolas decided that he owed his father an honest answer.

"No," he spoke finally. "I did not."

"I take it you were with that Ranger," Thranduil replied, his voice still indifferent and that only increased Legolas’ discomfort.

"Yes," he nodded. "I am a man grown, I do not think I have to account myself to you."

Thranduil looked up at him, his eyes softening but a little. "Son, she is gone."

Legolas stared at his father. "You know?"

"I was told by Nanaur that she departed at first light. Judging from the direction, she was returning to the Anduin."

"Why did no one tell me?" Legolas demanded, trying to remember that while he was addressing his father, he was also addressing the King of the Woodland Realms.

"Because I saw no reason to have anyone tell you," Thranduil replied, trying to be kind even though it might not seem that way at this moment to his angry son. "She decided to leave without telling you for good reason. I thought it best to respect her wishes."

"Her wishes!" Legolas swore out loud. "Does no one care anything for how I feel about all this? " He ranted, not expecting an answer but feeling the need to vent his frustration nonetheless.

"I know you are in love with her but can you not see that what she did was for the best?" Thranduil replied, aware that the words would not make it any easier for Legolas to accept the situation but was compelled to try at the sight of his son’s anguish.

"For the best?" Legolas glared at him in dismay, wondering how he could say that when suddenly he remembered the exchange between his father and Melia the night before. She had not told him what was said between them and now Legolas suspected that perhaps Thranduil might have said something to convince Melia even more that she should leave. "What did you say to her?" He accused.

Thranduil swallowed, realizing that the young woman had not betrayed him to Legolas. He tried to answer not as king but as a father and hoped that the boy would understand that what he had said to Melia was for the best. "I told her nothing that she did not already think, that anything between you two would ultimately end in tragedy."

Legolas did not say a word for a few seconds. The rage inside of him needed time to swell to uncontainable levels and when it did, he turned on his father viciously. "What gave you the right to decide that? My relationship with Melia is my personal affair! Not yours. You had no right to say anything to her! Do you know how difficult it was for her to even admit she felt anything for me? She has enough fears in her heart about what we could be to each other without you making things worse!"

"Do you have any idea what you are embarking upon by choosing a mortal, my son?" Thranduil defended himself with just as much determination. "Can you truly endure the pain of watching her grow older with each day, knowing that she will die and there is nothing you can do to prevent it? Do you know what it is like to lose someone you have been bound to? I lost your mother when you were a child and my heart has been cleaved in two ever since. I would spare you that pain. Your mother sailed to the Undying Lands so that we can be reunited some day, it will not be the same for you when Melia passes."

"Do you think I do not know that?" Legolas hissed in turn. "It breaks my heart to know that one day I will be without her but I can accept that if it means having her even for the scant span of her life. I know that I will not see her in the Undying Lands but when the world is done, perhaps we shall be reunited. No one can say for certain but I am not going to dwell on what cannot be or what may be for that matter, just on what is. "

"It is not that simple," Thranduil protested wondering how Legolas could be so naïve even if he was three thousand years old. In truth, he knew that he was his mother’s son who felt things passionately. If he had ever known his mother, he might have realized how much alike they were but unfortunately that had not been. She had fallen ill after his birth and never recovered, as she should have even with the advances of elvish medicine. The only way to save her life had been to hasten her journey to the Undying Lands and that was three millennia ago. Three millennia of loneliness for the husband left behind.

"You may delude yourself," the king insisted, "but you know it to be true."

Legolas did not have time to argue. Each moment he spent debating the point with his father, was precious seconds where she was widening the distance between them. Perhaps it would be for nothing, this pursuit and when they caught up with one another, they would find themselves locked in the same stalemate. However, Legolas would not rest until he tried. "I am going after her father," he said finally, drawing away from the king’s presence. "I ask your leave to depart but know that if you refuse me, I shall go anyway."

"You think that I would hold you against your will?" Thranduil stared at him in shock.

"I think you would try to save me from myself," Legolas returned aware that he sounded unkind but he was angry that Thranduil had exacerbated Melia’s fears and possibly incited her to leave.

"You just came home," the king said sadly, his eyes filled with hurt at his son’s desire to leave.

It was at this that his heart softened a little towards his father. "I will return," he said sincerely meaning it. When he took permanent leave of his father and the Woodland Realm it would not be like this, where neither his father nor his kingdom would have time to accept what he was doing. "We have things to discuss father and I will do that face to face when the time comes but I must go after her."

"She will hurt you," Thranduil replied, trying to reach him one last time. "Think about what you are doing."

"I have thought about it," Legolas answered as he started to turn away. "But it is not my mind that controls my actions in this father, it is my heart and to its desires I am powerless."

"You have no inkling of what it truly feels like to be powerless, my son," the king stared after him sadly. "If you chose to make this woman your wife, you will understand all too well what it really means. What you feel now will be a splinter in comparison to the anguish you will endure when the times comes for her to pass out of this world."

Legolas paused briefly, absorbing what his father had said but if Thranduil thought he had not given the matter much consideration, then the king was greatly mistaken. He did know what he faced if Melia chose to be with him. He knew it from the moment he met her and while it had frightened him and still did, he knew he loved her and so there was no choice really.

"I love her father," he met his father’s eyes briefly. "If suffering eternal sorrow is the price I must pay for having her then that is how it will be."

With that, the prince turned away from his father and left the king to weep silently in his heart for his son.

***********

It was not difficult for Legolas to discern where Melia was going once he set out upon her trail She was easy to locate because he knew the terrain she was crossing so intimately. He also knew which tracks were hers because the elves travelling across Eryn Lasgalen did not leave markers of their presence. Woodland elves were more than adept at moving through their realm without anyone being aware of them. Legolas himself knew this art well and was one of its best practitioners. Although Melia had taken care to ensure her departure from Thranduil’s court was as discreet as possible, not even a Ranger with her skill could remain hidden from the prince who was determined to find her.

While her tracks were easy enough to read in the woods she traveled, the reasons for her course was not easy to ascertain. All signs pointed to Melia returning to Dol Guldur, though Legolas for the life of him could not understand why. There was no reason for her to return to the place since it was clear that nothing remained there of her mother or of any clue that might lead to the whereabouts of the Istar who was the center of this entire mystery. Melia was no fool. She had understood this when they were at Dol Guldur together. Why would she return there when there was clearly nothing to find?

As it was, Legolas was greatly troubled by the possibility of the Istari being involved in this foul business. Melia had revealed that in her vision, she had seen an Istar at Dol Guldur in clear alliance with the Nazgul. While this was not unprecedented for Saruman was also an Istar who had cast his lot with Sauron, it made Legolas wondered why a wizard who was in service to the dark lord had not made his emergence during the War of the Ring. If an Istar was responsible for the disappearance of the River Women from Middle earth, then why had he remained silent when his master required him most? And why was he hidden still? Gandalf, possibly the greatest and the noblest of the Istari, had sailed across the western sea and Radagast was not far behind him. Saruman was dead at the hands of his own lackey and the whereabouts of the other remaining Istar was as much a secret as the one who had occupied Dol Guldur for so long.

Before leaving, Legolas inquired if Thranduil knew anything of an Istar that might have resided in Mirkwood at any time. The king had been able to offer him some scant information which was hundreds of years out of date and had little to do with the darkness that was emerging from the past of Dol Guldur. Two of the unaccounted Istari were said to have traveled to the far east of Middle earth upon arriving at Mithlond. These were called the Ithryn Luin, the "Blue Wizards". When Legolas was still a child, it seemed that one of these wizards, called Pallando, had journeyed through Mirkwood and had lingered at court for a brief time before continuing his journey southwards. Thranduil had no news of Pallando since then and assumed as many in Middle earth supposed, that the two had since taken the Straight Road back to the Undying Lands from where they had originated.

More than ever, Legolas wished Gandalf was still in Middle earth. The grey wizard would have been able to solve this mystery swiftly if he had been present. Unfortunately, Legolas sighed as he continued his pursuit of Melia, Gandalf was not here and he would have to solve this riddle himself. He had come to one conclusion since embarking upon this search with Melia, that she was possibly the key to everything, though he was uncertain where the lock was and how she was to be used to open anything. Goldberry, the daughter of the River Woman and wife to Iarwain Ben-adar in the Old Forest, would have been protected by her husband’s supremacy over his realm and it was almost certain that Goldberry’s father was not mortal as Melia’s was. Melia’s mind was human and perhaps its weakness allowed the visions to contaminate her thoughts with the terrible nightmares that had made little sense until she arrived at Dol Guldur.

Sweet Valar!

It came to him so suddenly why she was returning to Dol Guldur that its effect upon him was almost like a sharp blow. With that one discovery, the urgency in reaching that desolate place became an imperative and Legolas drove his horse hard to reach Melia quickly. He had no idea whether or not what she was attempting to do could kill her but he had seen its effects the last time she had made the attempt and knew that there was every possibility it could. Melia was more than stubborn and determined enough to try so dangerous a method in order to learn her mother’s fate at Dol Guldur, particularly since she had no other place to turn for the information.

Legolas cursed his foolishness as he forced his animal through the woods, trying to maintain a devastating pace he knew would not keep for too long. Melia was hours ahead of him and she was no fool. She knew how to maintain a brisk pace during travel and quite possibly, suspected that he might be in the mind to follow her. The Prince of Mirkwood wondered how a woman he loved with such untold abandon could be the cause of so much exasperation to one who had been alive for three millennia and had learnt the discipline of patience until he was in her company.

He was certain that not even the Valar had wisdom enough to answer that question.

Unfortunately, he had little choice but to press on and as his horse tore through the forests of Mirkwood, Legolas prayed that he would reach her in time or else he would learn what his father had warned him against, far sooner than he had possibly imagined.

*********

This thing she intended to do was pure insanity. She knew that.

And yet here she was, standing before Dol Guldur, with a descending blanket of darkness behind it, preparing to step in the maw of evil the likes of which she had never known. Alone. More than anything, Melia wished Legolas was here. Despite all their troubles, he had the unfathomable ability to bring her strength when she needed it most. She certainly needed it now as she started over the barren space of land between her and the former citadel of Dol Guldur. If it had looked imposing by day, then by night it appeared positively sinister. Melia shuddered as she approached it and was revisited by all the same fears of the last time she was here.

Even though she knew there was no danger in the surrounding wood, Melia took no chances and crossed the piles of stones that made up the fortress walls with her crossbow in hand. Legolas had suggested that perhaps she carry a sword as well. She was not good with a blade though she knew how to use it. The construction of Middle earth blades tended to be broad swords, far too heavy for a woman to wield with any effectiveness. However, she had seen Eowyn’s sword and knew that the shield maiden of Rohan’s weapon was really a dagger fashioned with extra length in order to be used as a sword. She told herself that if she survive this, she would have to see about acquiring such a weapon.

As she stepped to the edge of the pit where the dungeons once were, Melia felt her entire being suffuse with mind numbing terror. The feeling of it was so intense that she was almost tempted to run away from this place and return to Thranduil’s court and Legolas’ arms. Thinking of him lessened the fear somewhat and she focussed on what had happened between them to distract her mind as she made her descent into the darkened pit. Above her, the moon was high and offered some light to guide her way but she could not ignore that it was still very dark down there. She thought of Legolas and found comfort in the memory of their joining during that hot and passionate night. Each time she thought of his lips against hers, the way his eyes clouded in desire when his body could endure no more sensation and succumbed to his release, she found herself needing him more than ever.

It ached inside her the moment she slipped out of his arms that morning and started riding towards Dol Guldur. She was not surprised that no one made any effort to stop her departure. They probably thought it was for the best, as well. Only Nunaur, the king’s captain had confessed some sadness at seeing her go when she encountered him in the stables. It was easy to see that Nunaur was a true friend of Legolas because he told her unashamedly that the Prince had never been as happy as he was in her company. Melia wondered what Thranduil would have thought of his captain if he had learnt of the man’s words. Melia had hoped the yearning for Legolas would cease when she put some distance between them but it had not. The yearning for him was beyond her ability to describe. Over the next two days of her journey, her mind kept wandering and when it did, it almost always found its way to the Prince.

Melia knew she was in love with him but until she left Legolas, she did not realize how much.

When Melia reached the floor of the pit, even thoughts of her lover could not assuage the cold naked fear she felt as she found herself surrounded by dungeons where great atrocities were committed. Sauron had walked this very floor and his evil had soaked into the earth. No amount of time would ever be able to cleanse this place fully, despite the elves’ best efforts. It would always be a scar of darkness to remind those who came in the future of what evil once preyed upon this place. She took a deep breath as she saw the dungeon where the terrible vision had come upon her and knew that is where she had to go. She had been careful not to touch anything until now but if she wanted her answers that was going to have to change.

Closing her eyes as she reached the bars of the dungeon, Melia told herself that whatever the consequences of this, she was ready to accept it. She had lived a life where her destiny was hers to choose and if she were to die now, she knew that at least she had known love and shared one night with her prince. She only hoped that if the worst came to pass, he would understand why she had done this. Outstretching her fingers, Melia wrapped her hand around the bars and let what had to be, happen.

Its effect upon her was no less potent than before and immediately, that searing pain filled her mind and forced a scream from her. No one heard the silent cry that tore through the night and if anything stirred in the wood around Dol Guldur, it certainly did not care. Melia had been right about one thing when she embarked upon this course and that was that she was alone.

Utterly and truly alone.

*********

There was no weeping.

Just screaming. Loud, anguished wails of pain and torture, tearing the night apart like the angry cry of a soul being ripped apart, a piece at a time. Its sound was like music to those who ruled the fortress of Dol Guldur and those not shrouded in darkness but forced to endure the proximity of such an evil place could only shudder in fear as they heard its assault upon their ears. There was struggle to the helpless screams and as it grew in pitch and intensity, the struggles weakened to almost nothingness.

The Nazgul watched the Istar work, using magic that was never intended for the purpose it was currently being employed. Even the Nazgul for all its allegiance to Sauron was not the same as the two beings presently in the cell with him. Both had been creations of the Valar in some way or another, Maiar as they were called by the First Born. Even Sauron had begun his existence as Maiar to the dark lord Melkor and in turn had gave life to the Nazgul and the other dark creatures of shadow that served him so loyally.

The Maiar female was chained to the wall, far from the source of her strength. The particular type that she was ensured that once away from her natural environment, she was very susceptible to manipulation. She and the others like her had been systematically hunted down, trapped and enslaved before being returned here in secret to Dol Guldur. The capture of the River Women had been a task as laborious as the continuing search for the One Ring but what Sauron demanded, his servants were compelled to do.

The Istar clearly did not have the stomach for what needed to be done which was why the Nazgul was required to look over his shoulder constantly, to ensure the work progressed despite his weakness. On this occasion particularly, his presence was needed to ensure the Istar did not falter in the execution of the intricate spell that was presently making the Maiar female scream with such agony. The Istar was trying not to be affected by the screams or the terrible effect his powers was having upon the female Maiar as the spell did its worst.

The Nazgul smiled beneath its hood in what it could almost consider pleasure at the Istar’s attempt to hide his anguish. The Nazgul had selected this Maiar female as the first to be subjected to the transmogrification spell because she was the Istar’s favorite. The Istar had protested bitterly but upon realizing that there was never a choice in the matter, had grimly obeyed without further protest. The spell was sending waves upon waves of power through the room and even Sauron’s servant was impressed by how powerful these Maiar could be when properly motivated. If the Istar wanted, it was possible for him to leave Dol Guldur and none of them would be able to stop him but the wizard’s fear of Sauron was growing. He knew that the dark lord was far from vanquished and within these walls, the potency of Sauron’s power could be felt most overtly.

Even as she screamed fiercely, her struggles had begun to wane. Her flesh was beginning to boil under her skin. It bubbled like the dark sludge of a marsh bog and lifted muscle and sinew from her bones as the spell’s purpose began to shape her body. The chains held her in place but the Nazgul doubted she was strong enough to stand, let alone break through them.

The Istar’s spell was done; there was no turning back now.

***********

The ring of power had been found.

The Nine were being recalled to Minas Morgul to be given instructions. It was said that they would be sent after the one who carried the One Ring. At Dol Guldur, an atmosphere of charged anticipation had come into being since the discovery of the One Ring. It seemed the culmination of everything they had been working towards these many years had finally reached fruition. Barad-dur was rebuilt and the Orcs had increased in numbers. Slowly but surely, they were retaking lands that had once belonged to Mordor while Sauron himself was gathering his forces from all corners of Middle Earth. He was making unlikely allies and those allies were telling him to turn his eyes to the lands of the Periannath, were the legendary halfings were known to reside.

The work had continued steadily for so many years but for the Istar, it had come too soon. The work, which should have been his crowning achievement, had become his bane and now he was trapped almost as helplessly as the pure souls he had used to make it possible. Things were moving far too swiftly for his liking for he knew that once Sauron reacquired the One Ring, he would launch his assault upon Middle earth, anticipating the presence of the warriors he had cultivated for this purpose.

It was not the Istar’s desire to create a soldier but instead to fashion a creature possessing the singular beauty of the elves and the fiery passion of men. He wanted to create a new race that was capable of beauty and endurance and in his determination to do so, he never considered once how that work could be twisted into something so terrible that neither race would be able to withstand its assault. The Nazgul lord who oversaw his work had departed Dol Guldur at Sauron’s call, leaving the Istar alone for the first time in too long.

The Istar stood within the cell of his favourite, favourite because she had been so strong while at the same time because of all the others, she had been the one who wept more bitterly at her incarceration. He knew only her name and there was talk of a lover and possibly a child, for in her torture, she would utter names that were unfamiliar to him because they were not the names of her sisters. The wreckage of her remained in the cell; something that was once beauty personified had now been completely recreated into a horrific parody of life. Within her cocoon of flesh she remained encased, only a faint outline of her body could be seen through the viscous environment.

He had one chance to end this before the nightmare became any worse than it already was. He had to take it now before she and the others emerged from the pods within which they were metamorphosing. The orcs who had remained here in place of the Nazgul knew what he was and feared him. He could do what was needed and disappear. Middle earth was on the brink of war; it was entirely possible that Sauron would be too busy with his plans of conquest to bother about one Istar and the twisted fruit of his misguided dreams. He would take them far away from Dol Guldur and hide in the belly of the earth, perhaps the Grey Mountains and be forgotten.

With enough time, he might be able to undo what he had wrought upon them. Perhaps he might even be able to save them. He did not know if this hope was possible, only that he had to try. He had to try before the process was complete, before they emerged from their cocoons.

Before they woke up.

*************

Scrape.

Scrape.

Scrape.

The sound filled the world almost as completely as the overwhelming darkness. The darkness was the world, its sides pressed against her, wet sliminess against her skin. She pushed against it but it would not yield. It was like being trapped in amber that had hardened around her. She could move inside its hollow innards but she could not escape. Her nails raked the membrane around her but it would not tear, it simply stretched taunting her with the possibility of rupture. Fluid filled her ears, oozing into her terrified mind. She took a breath and it only followed the path into her lungs, making her cough. She opened her mouth and it flowed down her throat, blocking her scream.

The need to escape was overwhelming but she could not even see where she was because the darkness was everywhere. There was a faint memory that it was not always like this, that there was a time when there was light and sounds that was not this slow, turgid flow of liquid that filled her eardrums. There were memories buried in a place so deep that it was no longer possible for her to remember anything, except the disconcerting sensation when she tried to bring them into focus.

Sometimes, she could feel someone beyond her prison, someone close that whispered to her soft things. His voice was always filled with great sorrow and sometimes, she could almost remember him but the uneasy feeling would evolve into physical pain and she would be driven to abandon the effort. However, the overwhelming imperative of her existence was to escape the cage she found herself in and so she clawed again at the moist walls around her, praying that someday the strength would be given her to finally break through.

Someday, she would get out.

***********

She woke up gasping.

Her first impulse had been to scream but somehow she had managed restraint in the dreamscape. Melia sat up struggling for breath as she tried to control the intense fear that coursed through her heart. Little about her surroundings effected her at first because the terror had more or less shunted aside such thoughts. What she had seen stayed in her mind. Vivid images of things she could not possibly know but was certain to be true because she knew they had taken place inside the cell where she had attempted her dangerous experiment. She had hoped to find some clue as to where her search should take her next and instead succeeded in opening a door inside her mind that revealed more than just a destination. She had never expected the potency of evil to invade her as it did and supposed that the darker things in the world were often the ones that endured the best.

It was certainly true of Dol Guldur whose walls and foundations still carried the stain of its sinister past. Every terrible act that had been committed within its boundaries, every tortured cry of pain and drop of blood spilled was as much apart of Dol Guldur as its bricks and stone. Melia did not know how she was able to see what she had and she was certain that sharing her mother’s blood had something to do with her ability but there was no doubt in her mind that everything she saw was real. Everything she felt in that nightmarish place was the truth.

It was at this point that Melia realized that it was daylight. The sun shone above her head through the canopy of leaves and she saw that she was surrounded by forest. She was lying on her bedroll; a blanket draped over her where she had lain for who knew how long and the smell of something cooking was on the fire at the center of the campsite. Melia saw her horse and another waiting patiently under the shade of the tree they were tethered to, nickering at each other in their secret language. She recognized the steed next to her own and supposed she should not be surprised by its presence here. Her gaze swept across the campsite but saw no sign of its rider.

After a moment of contemplation of what would soon be upon her, Melia attempted to stand and found her legs rather shaky. She wondered just how long she had been unconscious. Her mind still felt drowsy from her slumber and it was a few seconds before she was able to brave a step forward. When she did however, her legs ached from the sudden demand for activity. She walked gingerly to the horses that raised their heads in interest at her approach and almost appeared as if they were glad to see a human amongst them. Melia stroked the brow of her horse gently before running her hand over the flank of the other.

"Where is your master?" she asked gently as she petted the horse.

The horse had no ability to answer other than to snap its head back in reaction to a change in environment. Melia turned around and found Legolas standing across the fire, staring at her. He was carrying his bow, indicating to Melia that he had just made a quick scout of the area to ensure they were safe. His first reaction upon seeing her was relief but then he did not speak and his blue eyes bore into her mercilessly. Under the scrutiny of that gaze, Melia had no defense and she was revisited by the memory of their last meeting.

"You came after me?" She asked after a few minutes of staring.

"You left." Legolas returned. "I had little choice but to follow."

"You found me?" She ventured a guess, imagining the fear he must have felt in coming to Dol Guldur and finding her in that cell. Melia immediately felt intensely guilty for making him endure such anxiety.

"Yes," he nodded slowly. "You were unconscious for almost a day. I thought your mind may have been lost forever."

"I am sorry to have made you endure such fear," Melia apologized and somehow guessed that it would not nearly be enough to soothe his anger, for despite the concern she could see in his eyes, Melia could also see his rage. Rage he was keeping under tight restraint. "It was the only way I could find him."

"Did you?" He asked tautly.

"Yes," she nodded, suddenly feeling as if she were a badly behaved child. "I think the Istar went to the Grey Mountains to hide. I am not certain of everything I saw but he did something to his prisoners, something that he did not wish."

"I see," Legolas nodded. "Then we will go there."

Melia raised her eyes to his. "We?"

"Yes," he nodded slowly, his jaw flinching in controlled rage. The tension between them was so thick that it could have been run through with a sword. "We will go there together and deal with what menace he has wrought upon your mother’s people."

"I cannot ask you to do that…" she started to say

"It seems that there is very little that you can ask me." Legolas retorted as the last vestiges of his restraint finally snapped free. "How could you do that? How could you simply leave? Without even the decency of a word of farewell? After what we shared together, I thought I meant more than for you to simply depart as if I were a strumpet at an inn to be left when the sun arose!"

"I thought I did what was best," she struggled to explain but he was right in this. She had behaved badly. The more resolute she was to her decision to keep away from him, the more she had broken the rules of conduct between them.

"What was best?" He glared at her. "Do you know how sick to death I am of hearing what is best for us?" He roared and she jumped a little by the sharpness of his voice. It was quite something to hear the controlled elf suddenly lose his temper for it was like a storm had suddenly exploded into being in the midst of beautiful day. Legolas crossed the distance between them and was standing before her in seconds.

"I woke up that morning filled with hope," he replied softly. "I thought that perhaps we may find happiness together. You speak as if I have a choice in my decision to love you. I have no more ability to harden my heart against my love than you do. You wish to spare me but what you do not understand is that it is too late, I love you! I will love you until the end of time, whether or not you stay with me or leave now forever. I have done all that I can to convince you. If it were possible for me to become mortal such as the Evenstar has chosen, I would do so without thinking twice but that way is not open to me. I seek desperately to reconcile our lives so we can share what time we have together while we still can."

Melia did not know what to say. All she knew was that since she had left Thranduil’s court, her heart had been a heavy stone inside her breast and each time she allowed her mind to drift, invariably it would drift to the Prince of Mirkwood. He was a part of her now, no matter how much she sought to deny it. Yet fear still lingered in her heart for she knew what was at the heart of her refusal. She had not wanted to say it because she had clung to it for so long but now was the time when the words they could not speak must be uttered if anything good was to come out of this.

"I am frightened," she replied simply and it was from the heart.

His gaze softened, understanding that at last the Ranger had stepped aside, it was the woman speaking now. "Of what are you frightened? That I will hurt you?"

"That you will leave me," she answered, her eyes glistening. "I do not wish to become like my father."

"Your father?" He stared at her in confusion. "I do not understand."

Melia exhaled deeply because it was so hard to speak of this. "My father met my mother on the banks of the Anduin where I was born. When I was but an infant, he chose to return home and he wished my mother to come with him. The morning we were to leave, she was nowhere to be found. He waited for her to come back but she never did and finally he left without her. It broke his heart to be abandoned by her; he never recovered from it. I swore that I would never spend my life pining for someone the way he did. He loved me dearly but each time he looked at me, he saw the love that he could never have again."

"Do you think I would leave you?" Legolas came to her, his hands on her shoulders as he looked into her eyes.

"I do not know," she started to weep and the tears he saw running down her cheeks were enough to break the back of his anger completely, until all he wished to do was bundle her in his arms and promise her that he would never walk away from her. Not while there was breath in his body.

"I only know that I fear someday you will tire of me when this woman you love grows old and withered. I cannot bear the thought that you would look at me and feel yourself bound to me out of obligation. I never want to know that pain."

Legolas drew her to him in a tender kiss and whispered in her ear as he held her close. "I promise you on all that I hold dear, that I will never leave you. I love you Melia and if it means that I can only be with you in a flicker of time that is your life, then I will accept it as long as I spend what years there are with you."

Melia could not see so far ahead but for the moment, she chose to believe him. Perhaps what love they held for one another would be enough to sustain them through the years and perhaps it would not. For now, Melia would not ponder too deeply that question because she did not know what her future held. Finding her mother had been the most important thing in her life for so long and until she fulfilled the quest, she could not think of anything else.  

"Legolas," she took a deep breath and placed her hand gently against his cheek as she looked into his eyes. "I cannot think of my future until this quest is done. For now, please know that I love you but I need time to deal with all this. I am still afraid and I think that what we have is doomed to failure but I cannot deny how I feel or ignore it. Let us leave things as they are between us now and I swear to you when this is all done, I will know my mind. You said you would aid me in finding my answers, do you still hold to that?"

"You know I do," he answered, his arms still about her as he absorbed what she had to say. He did not agree with her words but he understood her need for time. As much as he wanted her in his life, he also had patience enough to know that her admitting the truth to him went a long way to aiding their cause. Melia had more or less succumb to their fate together, she was simply too stubborn to admit it. He was not so ignorant that he could not see what a tremendous step this was for her and he was willing to accommodate her the rest of the way.

"Help me find the truth, my love," she whispered as her lips sought his and they indulged in a searing kiss of deep, smoldering passion. "Help me understand who I am so I can chose my fate with you."

Legolas’ response was to kiss her back with the same intensity, until their mouths were dueling each other with such demand that they lowered to the ground and reminded themselves why they were so perfectly made for each other under the warmth of the afternoon sun.

**********

 At dawn’s break, they set out again, this time crossing Mirkwood in order to reach the Grey Mountains. Melia believed that the Istar was there and if he were there, so would her mother be. Legolas was grateful to see that she was slowly accepting the idea of his being a part of her life and knew with more confidence than he felt before that their future did lie together, despite her protestations of it being folly. Melia seemed more comfortable with having him at her side and Legolas could not deny that the day they had spent under the stars, adjusting to this new part of their relationship, exploring each other without the entire court of Mirkwood watching closely what they were doing, was very liberating. When they were alone, they were simply Legolas and Melia, two lovers caught in the same net, not the Prince of Mirkwood or the Ranger. Legolas almost wished it could be like this always.

The journey to the Grey Mountains or Ered Mithrin as it was known to the elves would require them crossing the length of Mirkwood. Legolas had traveled that far north in his time, though when he last visited it had been to settle a quarrel between the Woodland Realm and the dwarves who resided deep in the mountain. The issue had been one of passage and the dwarves resented it greatly that the fastest route from the Anduin to their domain required them crossing the Woodland Realm of the elves. The old prejudices were heavy in those days and Legolas remembered coming to a very uneasy alliance with Durin, the dwarf lord who spoke for his people. Of course, the city of Durin and his people were no more and though Legolas did not speak of their fate to Melia, it preyed heavily upon his mind what they would find when they arrived there.

As far as he knew the mountains were a nest to cold drakes who by nature were hoarders of wealth and had driven out the dwarves from their city and taken their city. Since that time however, little was heard of the drakes though it was believed they were no more for travelers who journeyed through the mountains to reach the city of Esgaroth, were not menaced by the fearsome creatures.

What concerned Legolas more than the drakes as they journeyed eastward was not the drakes however, but the goblins that were known to occupy the lands between Mirkwood and Ered Mithrin. In recent years, the goblins that had been driven from Dol Guldur were content to remain within the lonely lands in between the great forest and mountain, taking refuge in rock hills where the sunlight would not touch them. On occasion, they emerged far enough to bedevil the elves of the Woodland Realm and though Thranduil had yet to mount an expedition to destroy them completely, it was only a matter of time before the campaign to finish them once and for all was put into effect.

It was an easy enough business to cross Mirkwood in good time, Legolas chose to follow the Forest River, which would bring them to the mountains soon enough. However, once they reached the edge of the Woodland Realm and began moving towards the mountains, the prince’s wariness grew. His senses began to feel an uneasiness encroaching upon them the instant they set their horses towards the mountains and though he could not understand what the danger was, he felt it in every fiber of his being. Even though it still remained in the distance ahead, Legolas could feel its soft whisper. It reminded him a little of the One Ring and its ability to coax the sanest mind into committing all kinds of atrocities to satiate avarice and ambition. Yet this was different, as if the land itself was crying out in despair from some place they had yet to reach.

"What is it?" Melia asked once they had left Mirkwood behind them and traveled through lands which were unfamiliar to most of Middle earth, save the few who had reason to wander this far from the north. Her feelings for him gave her some insight into his moods and as they crossed the field of tall grass into the trees that framed the range of mountains in the distance, she saw a dark expression marring his handsome face that prompted her question.

"Nothing," he said simply, having no wish to alarm her, feeling more conscious of the looming darkness of night and made a mental note that they should make camp soon.

"You do not have a face that says nothing," Melia retorted. "You have a face that tells me that something plagues your thoughts greatly but you do not wish to tell me for you fear causing me undue worry."

Legolas gave her a look with a brow raised, "I have a face that says all that?"

"Oh yes," she remarked with a teasing smile. "You cannot hide anything from me."

"I will remember that if we are ever married," Legolas muttered with a frown, uncertain whether or not he liked being read so well.

"You had better," she winked playfully but her tone soon became sober once again. "So what is it you do not wish to tell me?’

"A threat grows near," Legolas confessed after a moment. "I can feel its presence growing in my mind. It comes from the mountains."

Melia stiffened immediately, her eyes staring ahead at the irregular shape of the mountains in the distance. "I know of what you speak. I feel it too."

"You do?" He looked at her.

"Not in the way you do," she added quickly. "I do not need elven senses to see that there is danger here. Too much is an unknown about the lands before us and that is always dangerous."

"It is more than that," Legolas confessed. "Until Dol Guldur, I had not given much thought about these things but since you revealed to me that you believe the Istar may have traveled to Ered Mithrin, I have had time to consider what has happened in the region of late. Particularly, since the War of the Ring."

"Of what do you speak?" She stared at him hard, seeing that he was clearly troubled by this.

"Since the War, the goblins of Dol Guldur have fled beyond Mirkwood and remain trapped in the rocky terrain between the mountain and the forest. The mountain with its darkness is the perfect thriving ground for goblins but they do not go there. They stay clear of it. It was believed that perhaps the cold drakes that vanquished the dwarves of Durin’s line still inhabited the mountain but they have not been heard of for many centuries. So why do the goblins not go there? What frightens a goblin away from the dark places of the world?"

Melia could understand his apprehension and began to fear it herself. Her thoughts lingered on the Istar who had used his magic on her mother and the other River women. What had he done exactly to them to fear his own spell that he needed to spirit them away like thieves in the night? She had fears that she dared not speak but she had to because he was risking his life to help her because of his love and she owed him the right to the truth but there were questions she needed answering.

"Legolas, what do you know of Saruman?"

Legolas looked at her sharply.

"A great deal," Legolas replied remembering the experiences the Fellowship had endured because Saruman the Wise had become Saruman the betrayer. "He was one of the Istari as you know, the head of the Order, Mithandir has said."

"Mithandir," Melia asked before realizing he meant Gandalf. "What happened to him? What made him become Sauron’s servant?"

"I do not know, I do not think even Gandalf could comprehend it," Legolas said sadly. "They had come to Middle Earth in the second age, all five of them. Their purpose was to battle the evil of Sauron. I think there comes a time when one studies the enemy to such a degree that one can become consumed by it. I think Saruman’s intention had been to learn Sauron’s ways to defeat him and in the end, all he did was become him."

"They say that he made the Uruk Hai," Melia asked. "That he bred orcs and goblins is that true?"

"No," Legolas shook his head, "their creation was Sauron’s work alone but Saruman created his own Uruk Hai and ensured they were loyal to him. By the time the War of the Ring had come to Middle earth, his intention was to take the ring for himself."

"That is something at least," Melia sighed deeply. "Prince, when I dreamed in Dol Guldur I saw something that I must tell you. I have always intended to find my mother but I expected that she would not be woman that bore me for the dreams I have grown up with prepared me for the worse. I knew something terrible had happened to her though I knew she was not dead. I never doubted that. What I saw at Dol Guldur explains some of it but not enough."

Legolas saw Melia’s eyes had become full of emotion and understood how hard this was for her to admit, that her quest may be for naught but she was driven anyway because she had to know the truth. However, painful it might be. Astride his horse next to hers, Legolas reached for her hand and held it tight within his. He offered her a smile that told her that however this journey ended, she could be assured that he would be at her side to see it through.

"Tell me," he coaxed gently. "What does it explain?"

"The Istar wanted to create something, something better than elves and men. He wanted to be a creator of life as the Valar and Melkor sought to do. I think Sauron learned of what he intended and, under the guise of aid I suppose, he tricked the Istar into fashioning something new, something that has not walked the earth before. I think that whatever he sought to create, he did so using my mother and the other River women."

The enormity of what Melia was saying horrified Legolas intensely for it was more than just abomination, it was twisted and evil in a way that sent a cold chill through his entire being. He had thought being in the balrog’s presence had been fearful enough but this was even more terrible. The River Women were Maiar spirits, intensely powerful though their power lay in the rivers that gave them life. How would they be when that power was twisted into something else?

"You think that the Istar has turned your mother and her kind into creatures of darkness?"

"Creatures yes," Melia nodded. "Darkness, I do not know. I only saw that it was against their will that they were made into whatever the Istar intended, that even he after a time became afraid of their power and was forced to take them from Dol Guldur before Sauron was able to unleash them upon his enemies."

"If that is so," Legolas looked at her, "where have they been all this time?"

Melia shook her head and was about to answer when suddenly a sound was heard and Legolas sprang towards her like a coiled serpent lunging from his saddle. He toppled her from her own horse and they both landed on the soft ground with a heavy thud. Melia was about to demand what he was about when she saw her horse standing on its hind quarters, braying in pain at the arrow that had struck its neck. Blood was spurting from the exposed flesh and another arrow soon joined its mate. Legolas’ own steed, smelling the blood of its kindred began to stamp its feet in anxiety.

"Goblins!" Legolas cried out, recognizing the arrow well. The darkness around them ensured their enemy would soon be upon them.

As he made that exclamation, Melia’s steed, which had been easy to shoot for its color of snow, had taken the worst of the goblins’ marksmanship. The animal had dropped to its haunches and Legolas grabbed her hand and pulled her towards his horse, aware that their survival rested in putting as much distance between themselves and the goblins that would soon attack in greater numbers. Melia scrambled to her feet, allowing him to drag her forward. He climbed onto the horse just as an arrow swept past him and embedded its point into a nearby tree. Melia paused long enough to retrieve her crossbow but she agonized at leaving a wounded beast to the ministrations of the goblins. Unfortunately, there was little choice in the matter as she took Legolas’ outstretched hand and climbed on behind him.

The horse bolted with arrows flying after them. One tore through the fabric of her leggings, cutting close enough for her skin to bleed. Melia winced in pain but knew the injury was minor. Her arms slid around Legolas' waist as he rode hard through the wood, intending to reach the river if possible. Suddenly another hail of arrows flew at them from a different direction, forcing the prince to veer the horse from the track they were taking, into an another direction. Melia looked over her shoulder and she could see them, the goblins moving in the darkness and the shadows and felt her heart freeze at just how many of them there were. They were like insects, scurrying out from underneath a rotting log when it was lifted and exposed to the sun.

Legolas could hear water rushing and knew that if they had to, they would ride into the river for goblins did not like water and were prone to stay away from anything so pure. More arrows came at them and Legolas knew that they could not avoid them forever and shifted his course again even though he started to suspect they were being herded like sheep. Realizing that to follow the path the goblins would have them take would lead to disaster, the prince forced the horse to turn back towards the path of the arrows, intending to break the blockade at all costs.

"Keep your head low!" He ordered and Melia took refuge in his shoulder as he himself lowered his head and prepared to break through their trap one way or another.

The horse thundered forward through the uphill track, past trees and rocks, a slave to its master’s demands when suddenly it came to such an abrupt halt that it did not entirely stop even though the beast had ceased to gallop. Too late did Legolas see what it was that made the animal brake so sharply and could do nothing but come to the unhappy conclusion that perhaps goblins would not be the death of them after all.

The river would.

"What’s going on…." Melia demanded when she felt herself being propelled forward by the combination of their great speed and the sudden stop that followed it. Her words turned into a scream as all three toppled over the edge of the cliff into the dark waters of the churning river below.

Part Six:
Dimulmaion

They hit the water hard but not enough to damage themselves from the great height they had fallen because Legolas’ horse landed first and broke the surface tension of the river before he and Melia plunged into it. A blanket of cold water immediately swirled in overhead as the momentum of their fall forced them almost to the bottom of the river. It was hard to keep stock of each other after such a tumultuous landing and all Legolas could do when the black waters hid the sky from him was to follow the course the bubbles emerging from his mouth to reach the surface. Beneath the river, it was absolute dark, not even sunlight guided them to air. He could not see Melia at all and that filled him with some sense of panic. It did not help matters that the current of the river was strong and was sweeping them further down its length with each passing moment.

"PRINCE!" He heard a panicked cry as soon as he broke the surface and emerged into the night air again.

Legolas’ eyes searched immediately for his lover and found her not far behind him. She had managed to surface long enough to utter that frantic cry and he soon saw why she had called, because she was clawing frantically to stay a float. It took but a second to realize that she was not swimming or threading water for that matter. She could not swim! Legolas immediately broke into powerful strokes as he fought the current to reach her. However, the white frothing waters around him did not make it easy. He took a deep breath and dove under the waves, swimming unhindered once he was beneath the onrush of water.

The elf reached Melia just as she faltered in her battle to stay afloat, her hand clawing desperately for something to keep her above the surface when she began to descend into the depths of the Forest River. With far more speed than he thought himself capable of, Legolas surged towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist, as she became completely submerged in the icy water. Securing his arm around her, Melia immediately did the same around his neck and clung on for dear life as he used their collective buoyancy to push them both to the surface.

When they broke the surface, Melia was gasping greedily for air she had been denied almost to the point of death when he had reached her. She clung to him tightly as he tried to steer them towards the embankment but her added weight upon him and the strength of the river would not allow them to break free of its powerful currents. Legolas tried to catch sight of their horse and saw that the steed had been born further down river. Suddenly, something surge into the water near his ear and as he followed its direction, saw the goblins were staring at them from the edge of the small cliff over which they had fallen. The creatures were hissing at them in fury at their escape but were not about to relent in their pursuit. They were soon descending the cliff by way of the incline that led to the shore, hoping to ensnare their prey when he and Melia emerged from the river.

"Hold on," he ordered over the sound of the rushing water and she complied with a frightened nod as he let himself relax no longer fighting the flow of the river. The rushing water was more than happy to accommodate them as it swept them further down its length, until they were moving so fast that it was difficult to keep track of the enemy and almost as difficult to keep the river from claiming them permanently.

The river carried them further downstream for how long, neither Melia or Legolas could say but the goblins seemed to falter in their pursuit after a time. The water had frozen their limbs beyond tolerable levels and it was very necessary for them to leave its cold behind or else they would be seriously chilled and possibly take ill. Neither had any desire to have that eventuality befall them, especially since it felt as if they were on the edge of the world or beyond it perhaps. Legolas knew that if his elvish endurance was teetering to the point where he was unable to withstand their situation any further, Melia’s state would be even worse. He searched the shoreline and saw no evidence of their pursuers but he could not be sure. He sensed danger all around them, not from any specific place so he could not tell whether or not it was safe to make for the embankment.

Legolas caught side of his steed staggering out of the water, the creature appeared exhausted as its hooves dug into the shale beach. It shook the water off its body and did not appear uneasy as it had been during their flight from the goblins. It was still dark overhead and would be so for many hours but Legolas knew they could not stop here. It would not be truly safe in this area until the sun was above them once again. He started swimming towards the edge, deciding that the nearest shore was as good as any to make their emergence. Fortunately, his bow and arrows had remained fastened to his body as well as did Melia’s crossbow. If there were to encounter the enemy, at least they would be far from defenseless.

After what seemed an eternity, they arrived at the shore, almost completely exhausted from the effort because the weight of their clothes and their weapons had increased the load upon them considerably. Legolas was rather surprised that they had managed to remain afloat whilst battling the river but would not question what little consolation that was to be had from their present crisis. Upon crawling onto the embankment, they collapsed heavily against the sand, succumbing briefly to their ordeal in the river. Melia was already starting to shiver against the icy cold water against her skin but she was doing her best to tolerate it.

"How is it," Legolas said through his exhausted breath when he finally turned to her, "that you can ride as well as any man, shoot a bow better than most, fight and I might add curse like even the most hardened of warriors and somehow in all that accomplishment, forget to learn how to swim?"

Melia scowled at him darkly, "I do come from the Sunlands you know, there is not a great deal of water there. What little there is we conserve for bathing and drinking, not anything as frivolous as swimming."

"But you have been in Middle earth for some time, did you never think to learn?" He asked.

"No!" She declared defensively. "Do you know how to sew?"

"I am a Prince of Mirkwood," he retorted with great dignity. "I am not required to know such things. Besides what use is it to me?"

"Exactly," she grumbled, wringing the water out of her hair and quickly scanning the surrounding trees. "We need to get out of here," she muttered.

Legolas was already on his feet and striding towards the horse that had sighted his master and came in search of their familiar scent, waterlogged as it might be. For someone who was soaked to the skin, he moved with surprising speed and made Melia swear under her breath when she stumbled about like an infant on unsteady legs, in her saturated clothes. She needed to get warm but could not even think about a fire or anything resembling a campfire until they were well away from here. While there was still darkness about them, there was no reason to assume that the goblins would have given up their pursuit and if they had not, then they were most likely converging upon the riverbank even as she and Legolas stood upon it.

"The saddle is gone," Legolas noted with a frown as he noticed the bare back of the animal. Fortunately, the reins still remained but everything else was swept away by the river. Legolas decided not to complain for he was accustomed to riding Arod in such a manner but was uncertain if Melia was capable. "We will need to ride double," he stated as he took hold of the reins and steadied the animal in order to mount it.

"All right," Melia nodded, loosening the fasteners that held her crossbow in place across her back. Her stores of bolts had dwindled substantially for some had been washed away in the river. Only a handful remained in her possession and she was not happy of this fact. They were hard to replace at the best of times and out here in the middle of nowhere, it was damn near impossible. As Legolas slipped onto the steed’s back, he outstretched his hand towards her. Melia caught his arm as he pulled her up and she nestled behind him comfortably.

"We must move now," Legolas suddenly replied, digging his heels into the horse’s flank and sending the animal surging towards the cover of trees.

She did not need to ask why when a band of goblins burst out of the shadows. The closest one ran across the ground with surprising speed towards them, brandishing a cruel looking mace that was meant to disable the horse. Melia raised her crossbow without thought and let fly a bolt of steel. It embedded itself in the goblin’s forehead and the creature barely had time to offer a shriek before dropping dead in its tracks. Not that there were not already enough of the foul beings to take its place.

Legolas had already forced them into moving but the horse was struggling to pass the goblins that were beginning to swarm around them. Surging ahead nonetheless, the noble steed hastened the pace of its momentum as its hooves sought firmer ground than the soft shale of the shore. Nostrils flaring, the horse snapped its teeth at the goblins attempting to approach it and the riders entrusted in its care. The shadow warriors retreated a little but not enough for they were determined to attack and concerted themselves in an effort to push Legolas and Melia off the animal when it appeared that they might escape.

From the corner of her eye, through all the flurry of activity about them, Melia saw two goblins closing in on them, one raising a dagger to impale the horse or its rider, whichever it reached first. Melia aimed her crossbow at the vile creature, ending the threat of him before he could strike while Legolas kicked the other away and returned his focus to escaping the vulnerable position in which they found themselves. He reached for one his daggers, tucked neatly with his bow and slashed wildly at the forces attempting to converge upon them as they tried to slip past the line of goblins. Fortunately, the goblin archers had yet to catch up with them but Legolas did not dare believe they were anything but close behind.

"Back you foul things!" Legolas hissed and slammed his boot into the jaw of one of their attackers, feeling bone shattered beneath his heel. Another swung at him but the elf turned in time to catch the blade and returned it with as much intensity. Melia was shooting her steel arrows at the enemy but he could tell by that taut expression in her eyes that she would soon run out.

Suddenly a glint of moonlight caught something speeding towards the Prince. Melia saw it an instant before it struck. She pulled Legolas out of his path without thinking and they both fell off the horse just as the creature broke into a run, dragging a few goblins with it in its desperate attempt to escape. The arrow that would have killed her prince was now embedded in the steed’s neck, blood staining the gray of its pelt. The goblins triumphant in having succeeded in unseating the elven prince and his companion were now closing in for the kill. Legolas knew that if they were allowed to be trap, neither he nor Melia would live to see the morning.

The goblins had closed their route to the river and so there was only one thing left to do before they were surrounded completely. Legolas grabbed Melia’s hand and started running for the trees. In the wood, there was a chance of escape if he could lose them amongst the trees. Though he was more adept at losing himself within the forest then Melia, her skills as Ranger were nothing to underestimate. A goblin attempted to intercept them as he and Melia ran for the woods and Legolas made quick work of it by swinging his blade at the creature and tearing open its insides. Melia was also accosted but she reacted just as swiftly, slamming her crossbow, now exhausted of its supply of bolts across the face of another advancing enemy.

The action gave them the precious seconds of a cleared path and both took advantage of it, running faster than either had ever raced in their lives. They could hear the goblins falling into pursuit behind them as they tore through the woods, running through the foliage. While Legolas left no tracks, Melia certainly did and those tracks were unfortunately seen by the enemy. Had they the time, Melia would have been able to disguise her path but their main goal was too put as much distance between themselves and the goblins as possible. Dawn was still hours away and there would be no safety until the sunlight had returned.

Trampling through the forest, the terrain towards the mountain was hard and it was with dismay that Legolas saw that the canopy of trees would soon come to an end. The goblins would move with greater speed over the cleared terrain and they would have no place to hide. He could feel their presence behind them, relentless in their pursuit. It was with surprise that he realized that they were ravenous from hunger and were on the verge of turning upon themselves. He could feel the deep growling craving for food that was driving them so desperately after the first morsel of food they had seen in too long.

If they did not find a place to hide, they would die in the belly of the enemy.

They were close behind and as he came to a pause, he saw that Melia knew it too. Her fear was thick but she was too proud to show it. This journey on foot would not do, Legolas realized and searched the trees. They were as strong as they were old. Some of the branches were spread out like giant palms upturned towards the sky, their leaves a blanket of green. Legolas saw the branches that were thick and old and knew that if there was any escape tonight it would be have to be in trees above them. In the bosom of the forest, they might be able to double back the way they came, while the goblins continued their pursuit.

"Follow me," he instructed. "Put your foot where mine has been and nowhere else. Fail in this and we will both die tonight."

Melia nodded quickly not doubting his claim for an instant. Legolas started climbing a nearby tree, scaling its branches with such speed that he almost look like he was flying. He was well off the ground when his hands reached for her and he pulled her up into the cover of the leaves above her head. Poised on the thick branch, they moved as silently as was possible, the slight rustle of leaves making too much sound as they retreated into the forest once more. Below them, they could hear the goblins spreading out and when those noises drew too near, they froze in silence, praying that they were not betrayed by circumstance or by any failing of their own.

Legolas seemed made for the trees as he was crouched in the shadows, blending in as if he were one with its life in a way she could never understand. She watched him, still as the night air, seeming nothing at all like the man she loved, skin luminescent the way only elves’ could be, eyes burning in the dark, watching everything. She realized at that moment that she would always be this way. It gnawed at her as she felt the callused palms of her hands, scars and dullness of her skin that it would never endure as his would. The calluses would become more acute, joined with wrinkles and lines, markers that time was catching up to her. He said she was beautiful but she knew it would only be true today.

Tomorrow, she would be different.

"I think it is safe," Legolas whispered finally, breaking the silence after what seemed like hours. "We should remain where we are until sunrise."

Melia could not hear them but that meant nothing. Goblins knew the art of stealth as well as they. She looked up into the sky and saw that the indigo night was giving way to sunlight but dawn would not come for an hour yet.

"Then what?" She asked softly. "Do we continue?"

"We must," Legolas nodded. "We must put some distance between ourselves and the goblins for they will be roaming these woods as soon as the night falls again. It would take too much time retreating. We are safer continuing ahead."

"I have never known them to be so persistent," Melia shook her head in confusion. "Usually, they do not persist in such a relentless hunt for no reason."

"They are hungry," Legolas explained. "Did you not notice how there are no large game here? All the life we normally expect to find in a wood this size is absent. I have seen nothing larger than a rabbit and a diet of that alone cannot be enough for goblins who are used to larger fare for their bellies."

"The same was said of the Blue Mountains," Melia pointed out, remembering how barren it had been in the foothills before they reached the mountain range. However, that aberration was due to an infestation of worms that had thrived in its crevices. "But that was caused by the worms that Eowyn, Arwen and I battled."

"There are no worms in Ered Mithrin," Legolas said simply. "However, there are known to be cold drakes."

"Cold drakes?" She almost hissed loudly before realizing that they needed to remain silent for their own safety and looked at Legolas again, this time with more restraint. "There is a name I had no wish to hear again."

Melia remembered all too well what it was like to fight one of these beasts. She had no wish to do it again.

"The mountain was inhabited by the dwarves of Durin’s line until the cold drakes forced them out. Since that day, the drakes have remained in Ered Mithrin though I think many of them have returned to the deeper pits of the earth for none have been seen in some time."

"I thought the same," Melia remarked sarcastically, "then I found myself fighting one."

"Do not fear," Legolas said quietly, "there are far more dangerous things in that mountain than mere drakes."

"Mere drakes?" Melia’s brow arched. "I admire your ability to make so measured a judgement."

Legolas was content to offer a little smile in answer before his gaze dropped to the ground once more. He could not see the goblins but he could feel their presence near. Very soon they would discover that there were no more tracks to follow and ascertain that their prey might have taken another route into the forest, which meant they would be coming back. As much as the trees had provided them shelter in their hour of desperate need, Legolas did not believe that it would be enough. Sunlight was not long away and the goblins would be returning this way in order to return to their hiding places under the earth.

"We need to reach the edge of the forest," Legolas informed her quietly.

"Yes," Melia nodded in understanding. "If the dawn breaks, they cannot pursue us into the open."

"I should like to go eastward but that way takes us too far out of path and we already have a long way to go now that the horses are gone." He declared before his voice fell silent and he went very still. His superior senses heard their coming first. Against the serenity of the forest, their harsh language and their brackish natures were easy to locate. He could hear them trampling over everything that lived, hacking away living plants out of sheer spite as they sought out their prey. They were coming back this way and though Legolas was not as fluent in their speech as he liked to be or was comfortable with, he understood their far sounding words clear enough.

The goblins knew they were in the trees.

"We need to move," Legolas replied quickly, working his way across the long branches with Melia following closely. "They have guessed where we are."

"That was inevitable I suppose," Melia said tautly as she followed him and watched his movements closely, remembering what he had said about repeating his every step. Elves knew more about stealth than Melia would ever learn even if she did live as long as three millennia.

"Watch out!" Legolas turned around sharply as his senses warned him of danger.

The arrow came out of nowhere and it struck her deep in the thigh. Melia let out a cry of pain as the metal splinter tore through her leg, upsetting her balance on the precarious walk she was perched upon. Legolas watched in horror as she slipped off the branch and he rushed to catch her but failed to reach her in time. She landed heavily in the center of the goblin raiding party; the arrow still embedded in her thigh. There were at least ten of them, two of them being archers and most likely the ones responsible for her injury. Legolas immediate unslung his bow from around his shoulder and removed two arrows. Positioning them carefully, he let them fly and felt some measure of satisfaction, when both struck their mark as he leapt out of his hiding place to help the woman he loved.

The pain in her leg was beyond belief but adrenaline and fear had shunted the pain aside as she saw the goblins coming towards her. Rising to her feet far quicker than she thought herself able in light of her injuries, she saw a goblin raising a weapon to her and could do little more than block the blow with her crossbow. The construct of her weapon was made of steel and the heaviest wood known to Middle earth and beyond it. It was her father’s and it was old when he had received it. They said that it had been fashioned by elves, but she never really paid it much heed. All she needed to know was whether or not it could stop a blade.

It did.

With far more determination to survive than it had determined to kill her, Melia shoved the goblin back and swung the weapon like a club, smashing the crossbow’s full span across its body and sending the goblin reeling backwards in pain. She wished more than anything she had a bolt to arm the thing with but all had been exhausted when they were battling the goblins at the riverbank. Unfortunately, the crossbow was not meant to be used in such a fashion and her swing though effective at first had left her wide open for attack. The other goblin barreled though her and tackled her to the ground. With the pain in her leg, she was able to do little to stop him.

She winced when he struck her across the jaw hard but it was not quite enough to disorient her from retaliating. She struggled hard to dislodge him from the straddling position he had taken over her body and damn near succeeded when the vile thing grabbed the arrow impaled in her leg and shoved it deeper into its wound. The pain it produced was beyond belief and Melia found herself screaming despite herself.

Legolas heard her scream and swung the dagger in one hand through the neck of the goblin closest to him. The other that was sneaking behind him during the confusion soon found the Prince of Mirkwood glaring murderously at him before a foot struck him in the chest and sent him flying backwards. Legolas threw the other blade in his hand and impaled the creature upon the tree it landed. Black blood spurted forth from the wound, staining the sword’s blade. Legolas retrieved his weapon and began to kill anything that stood between him and Melia. They were goblins and they knew nothing of skill in battle, their only strategy was to overwhelm by sheer force of numbers.

Fortunately, he was not held back by such deficiencies. He had fought at Helm’s Deep where Sauron had hurtled at the people of Rohan everything he had to take the territory. Legolas had stood with Aragorn, Gimli and all the other warriors who sought to prevent that and in doing so fought numbers even worse than this. A group of goblins were not that much of a problem when his blood was sufficiently fired up as it was at this moment. With dagger and sword, he fought without pause. Swinging his blade with such fury that it more or less killed on the first blow. He used the sword to wound and the dagger to kill. With the two weapons in his hands, it was not long before the battleground was covered with goblin corpses.

There would be more coming, he did not delude himself on this as he took the head from one of the beast. The creature’s head spun in mid air before hitting the ground hard with a loud squelch that would have made him shudder a little if he had cared enough to notice. He did not. Melia was struggling to keep the goblin poised on top of her from bringing down his blade against her throat. Her face was contorted in pain as the vile beast kept his firm grip upon the arrow in her leg and twisted it viciously.

"LEGOLAS!" She screamed desperately when she saw him at last, relief flooding into her terrified face.

The goblin turned around, just in time to see Legolas thrusting his sword deep into its body. It looked ahead at Melia, its own face now snarling with vicious pain as the point of the blade remained between them both, having passed through his body. Before it died, he felt the Prince of Mirkwood’s hand on his shoulder, tossing him away from the woman. He was the last to die and for the moment at least, there was a pause to allow them to catch their breath.

Legolas dropped to his knees next to Melia who was on her back still, groaning in pain, her hand clutching her leg. He examined the wound briefly and was gratified to see that it had penetrated flesh but had not severed anything that would kill her. His relief at seeing this to be her only injury filled him with untold joy even if he could savor it for only a moment because they would need to be on the move again.

"I am here," he said slipping his hand underneath her to help her up and succeeded in being on the receiving end of a heartfelt embrace.

"I almost was not," she said gratefully, tears in her eyes from pain and the relief at her survival. "Thank you."

"I promised you that I would let nothing harm you," he said softly as their lips met in a soft kiss.

"Yes," she murmured, taking comfort from his mouth against hers. "I should learn to believe you by now."

"Can you walk?" He asked softly, hating to disengage from her arms but the urgency of the situation demanded it.

"I think so," she nodded as he helped her to her feet. "Best to leave the arrow where it is," she suggested, looking at the sliver of wood protruding from her thigh. "I can manage until we reach the edge of the forest and step into the sunlight."

"Are you certain?" Legolas asked not at all happy about that. Goblin arrows were sometimes known to be poisonous and Legolas could see that the one lodged in Melia’s thigh was causing her a great deal of pain, though she would not admit it. Unfortunately, if he attempted to remove the arrow now, he would have to treat the open wound left behind immediately. They could not afford that precious time, not when there was still enough dark to ensure that they would be troubled by more goblins if they stayed where they were. Even now, he could hear their distant voices and the soft thrum of their war drums echoing through the forest, a call for more of their kind to come aid in the hunt.

"Yes," she answered slipping her arm around his shoulder. "I cannot hear them as well as you but I know that they are coming."

Legolas shifted his eyes away from hers for a moment, unable to admit to her that the goblins were closer than what she thought because she was already trying so hard not to be a burden upon him. If she knew how truly close they were, Legolas had no doubt that she would attempt to do something selfless and undoubtedly foolish to save his life.

"We must move out of the shadows," Legolas said quickly avoiding the question all together and burying a little truth in his non-disclosure. "They are calling for reinforcements."

"I shall keep up as best as I can," Melia grunted, trying to force away the pain as she hobbled forward with his help. She did not wish their escape hindered by her injury and grit her teeth to endure the pain that surged through her each time she made a tentative step forward with that cursed arrow trapped in her leg. If she removed it now, she would bleed profusely unless he bound the wound immediately and they did not have time for that. For now, the arrow would make her wound weep a little if she could tolerate its invasion.

"I will carry you," he offered.

"No," Melia retorted hotly. "You need to keep your hands free in case they come upon us far sooner than we think." She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you for the thought."

"We will survive this," Legolas said staring into her eyes as they left the dead bodies behind them. "I promise you."

"I expect to be killed by something far fouler than goblins," Melia replied bravely as they moved through the trees.

Climbing into their branches was beyond her now. There was no way she could maintain the poise or agility required to stay aloft and so they were forced to take this course. Legolas tried not to think about what would happen if he could not get her out of these woods before the beating of those distant drums brought the swarm he anticipated it would. The worst they would do is kill him. The worst they would do to her was keep her alive.

"I am glad you have some preference in the matter," he replied.

They kept a brisk pace despite her injury and Legolas tried to ignore the pain he saw in her eyes each time she took a step. Unfortunately his efforts to convince her to allow him to carry her were met with strong refusal and in truth, there was a good deal of sense to her desire that he be free to fight if the enemy stumbled upon them far sooner than either he or Melia anticipated. If they could clear the wood, then perhaps they might survive this night but as they neared the edge of it, Legolas grew even more wary of their chances of reaching it alive. It was always darkest before dawn, someone had once said and at the moment, the Prince of Mirkwood thought it was very dark indeed.

He could feel them closing in even if he did not see them. Their presence was close and they were desperate to reach their prey because if he and Melia reached the sunlight then they would be robbed of the best feeding they had caught sight of in weeks. Legolas felt his blood chill and he drew his sword even as he supported Melia’s frame around his shoulder. She saw him unsheathing his weapon and her eyes filled with the same sorrow that it might end here, tonight and all the things they could have been together in the lifetime that they would be stolen from them.

"Prince," she said softly, "leave me."

"No," Legolas retorted, barely hearing her and expecting something like this to come from her lips in light of the growing hopelessness of their situation.

"You must or you will die here with me," she implored.

"Melia," he paused long enough to look her in the eyes and say firmly. "Do not tax my patience on this matter. I will not leave you. Clear that thought out of your mind this instant, it only wastes your energy."

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?" She hissed in exasperation. "I do not wish you to die."

"And you think that my leaving you here to face those goblins will not kill me? Were I actually cowardly enough to do that, I would take my own life in shame." He stared at her.

"It is not cowardly to save oneself," Melia retorted. "Why must you be so difficult?"

"Because I love you and like all your race, your efforts to be noble are usually half thought and usually made when high on too much emotion," Legolas declared sharply, not really paying attention to her because the tree line was just ahead and he could see the sunshine beyond it. Unfortunately, he could no longer hear the goblins.

"If it were not my life you were trying to save, I would be most furious about that statement Prince," she glared at him.

"You do not mean it," he remarked as his eyes searched the woods around him and found the shadows were too long for his liking. "You love me too much."

"Well," Melia frowned at him through narrowed eyes. "You have me at a disadvantage there though I might ask you to remind me why again."

"Because you like what it is I do to that sensitive place at the crook of your neck," he answered with a completely straight face.

She gave him a look and returned dryly. "It is good to know that we die in character."

Legolas did not answer because the shadows began to move as he expected and the brief interlude of levity withered away like ice in the sunlight. The goblins emerged, having waited for them to arrive, guessing that they would make for the sunlight as their only means of escape. Melia closed her eyes as she saw their numbers, too many to count and knew that there was no way either of them would survive the united assault of the forces rallied against them. The goblins sneered in triumph, their jagged and rotting teeth bared in expressions of exultant victory and menace as they closed in on the two. She released her hold on Legolas, putting her weight on her injured leg for it did not seem to matter any more. Taking his dagger as he held up his sword in an invitation for the goblins to try and take them if they dared, Melia held her ground next to her prince.

"I love you Prince," she whispered softly. "They will not take us easily."

Legolas met her eyes and felt his heart fill with love. "I had hoped for longer but what has been between us, is worth even this terrible end. I love you Melia."

And that was all that they were allowed as they faced the enemy once more, preparing to fight and die before they became a meal to any goblin.

The goblins moved in for the kill cautiously for an elf was nothing to be underestimated even if they surrounded him in the dozens.

Legolas raised his weapon, preparing to kill the first goblin that came upon them when suddenly, a bright and powerful ray of light flooded the clearing in which they were about to do battle. Its intensity was so strong that even the prince and his lady, accustomed to daylight were forced to flinch away. Its effect upon the goblins was far worse and the creatures screeched collectively in pain as the white light flooded their sensitive eyes. Legolas blinked once or twice as his eyes adjusted and saw that there was a floating orb producing the brilliance, as if a small sun had suddenly sprang up in mid air before them.

As stunned as he was by what he was seeing, the elf recognised salvation when it was upon him. Sheathing his sword, he wasted no time as he swept Melia into his arms and starting running for the forest edge, past the goblins that were trying desperately to shield their eyes from the overpowering illumination. Some had started to scatter in order to flee the burning ball of radiating energy, disappearing into the shadows only to find that it was no more and forced to flee deeper into the forest.

Legolas saw none of this retreat because he was surging through the forest like a stag running from a hunter. It was with a sense of irony that Legolas understood that the analogy was not so dissimilar considering what would have been their fate if the enemy had caught them. He let out a gasp of breath as they passed through thinning forest and burst into the terrain beyond the woods. They emerged into a field full of tall grass but decidedly lacking in hulking trees that would keep the sun from their skin. The heat of the morning was like a breath of air to those who lived because of its presence.

Legolas’ chest was pounding as he finally came to a pause and dropped to his knees, Melia still in his grasp. Only when he took a moment to catch his breath did he notice the wet streak across her cheeks, the tears that had come because his exertion had brought the pain in her leg to almost searing proportions and yet she had forced herself to remain silent. When he put her down, she lay flat on her back, her body shaking from the opportunity at last to rest.

"Take this thing out of me!" She demanded, glaring at the arrow.

"Aye," he nodded and cast a final gaze at the wood and knew that the goblins would not emerge into this deliciously sunny day. He dropped next to her and tore the fabric of her leggings surrounding the shaft of the arrow. Legolas felt it rip easily though the stench of blood saturated the dark material.

"What happened back there?" Melia asked as she looked away from what he was doing, trying to occupy her mind with thoughts other than the pain that would be soon inflicted upon her when he pulled the arrow out of her leg.

"I do not know," Legolas answered honestly. "If I did not know better, I would say that we were given a reprieve by a wizard."

"Then you would be right," a male voice said behind him and Legolas fairly spun on one knee to meet this new arrival with his sword.

The man before them was unlike any man they had ever seen. His skin was not that different from Melia’s though while hers was a rich bronzed shade, his was almost ebony and flawless. If not for the tufts of grey in his hair of short, tight curls, it would have been difficult to tell how old he was. He did not appear to be as old as Gandalf and there were markings under his eyes, shaped like teardrops against his skin. His eyes appeared kindly and Legolas sensed no danger from him. His robe was not unlike the garb of russet worn by Boromir with studs that seemed more fashionable on a warrior of Gondor. Although there was no doubt in his mind that this man was no warrior but rather a wizard of unknown allegiance and that made Legolas nervous and unwilling to lower his weapon.

"Speak your name Sir or I shall strike," Legolas said forcefully.

"My name is Dimulmaion and I would think that you would have no fear of me since I saved your life in that wood." The man replied rather patiently despite the circumstances.

"That was your work?" Legolas asked cautiously. He sensed no danger from the man but he was not about to assume that a wizard who was able to drive away goblins with balls of light would not be able to addle the senses of one elf.

"Yes," Dimulmaion said with a slight nod but his attention was focussed on Melia. "The young lady is hurt, I would ask you let me tend her."

"So you are a wizard and a healer?" Legolas retorted skeptically.

"Tell me," he looked at Legolas. "When did the Eldar become so cynical? There was a time when your kind had hearts as open as the sea."

"A great deal has changed in the world since then," Legolas replied. "Who are you? Are you Istari?" Considering that Melia had claimed an Istar had escaped to these mountains with her mother, it was not an unfair assumption to think that this might be the one they sought, though why he would help them was beyond Legolas’ ability to answer.

"No," Melia spoke up immediately. "This is not the man I saw at Dol Guldur. Legolas, he just saved our lives, be a little more civil."

"Your wife speaks wisely," Dimulmaion remarked as he lowered himself next to Melia.

"She is not my wife," Legolas remarked as he joined them, not liking this stranger to take such a familiar approach to Melia. "But we are together." He replied emphasizing the last word so that Dimulmaion would make no mistake.

"Oh forgive my error," the man said dryly as he examined Melia’s wound briefly before reaching into the pouch on his belt to produce some strangely aromatic herbs. "The way you were arguing in the wood before the goblins found you, I thought for certain you were husband and wife." 

"No," Melia replied with a little hiss as the herbs he put on her wound burned a little but brought a strange numbing of pain once it had subsided. "That is how we always speak to each other."

"Then it must be an interesting relationship," the man smiled.

"You have no idea," Legolas frowned, wishing Melia was not so familiar with this stranger. "You did not answer my question. Are you Istar?"

"There is an Istar reputed to live in those mountains," Dimulmaion answered the prince, aware that he could not aid the woman unless he gave up that answer. "I am not he. Now I need to help your lady. The poison from the arrow is spreading and it will kill her if I do not remove it."

Legolas could not ignore that fact when presented to him so starkly. He had only to look at Melia to know that there was truth in the man’s words. Even as he questioned the man about his origins, Legolas could see the fine sheen of moisture that had appeared on her skin and her pallor had lost its richness, fading into a growing shade of gray that alarmed him once he paid closer attention. She was ill and growing worse so by the minute. She had hidden it from him as long as she could because his Melia was brave and would not admit defeat in anything, even when struck by an arrow. He loved her stubbornness although it caused him no end of ire.

Kneeling next to Melia, he watched Dimulmaion’s skilful hands prepare Melia’s leg for the extraction of the arrow. Even Legolas knew enough about such injuries to be certain that no matter how much the wizard attempted to dull the pain; she would feel it when they removed the arrow. Melia knew it as well for she clutched his hand tight and braced herself for what their new companion would be forced to do. Legolas could see in her face that she was having difficulty coping with the pain as she had. Her body was gripped with light trembling which he knew to be the onset of fever. Her skin against his did not feel warm but cold and damp.

"I have to remove the arrow," Dimulmaion spoke, his gaze meeting Legolas’ more than Melia.

Legolas tightened his hold on her and nodded in understanding, "Melia," Legolas spoke staring into her face, "this will hurt."

"I know," she said softly looking back at him, swallowing thickly as she attempted to be brave. She held his hand tighter, trying to draw the strength he was offering her so readily. "Do what you must. Remove this accursed thing from my body," she said finally.

Legolas shifted his eyes back to Dimulmaion and gave him permission to continue. The wizard said little resting his hands on the shaft of the arrow, securing his hold. The world seemed to drain into that one moment, when Legolas waited for the arrow to be freed from Melia’s body. He held his breath, almost in anticipation, trying to brace himself the same way she was preparing to tolerate the agonising pain that came with such removals. He had been on the battlefield and seen the most hardened warrior’s succumb to the cutting pain of such extractions. Legolas himself had endured an arrowhead once or twice in three millennia of existence. He did not envy what she was about to endure nor could he stand hearing her agony when Dimulmaion finally acted.

Suddenly, without further ado, the wizard tore the arrow out of Melia’s leg.

The scream that ripped through the air came easily from one who was so accustomed to hiding every weakness. It almost cleaved Legolas’ heart in two hearing that cry of pain and her fingers dug into his hand with such force, it nearly drew blood. Tears ran down her cheeks as she bit down hard, almost passing out from the intensity of the pain. Melia nevertheless slumped weakly against Legolas, exhausted from the ordeal. She was panting hard, trying to wrestle with the stinging pain and attempting to spare herself the indignity of fainting but failed when she lapsed against his body and did not move.

"Melia!" Legolas cried out in fear as he held her against him.

"She will be fine," Dimulmaion said soothingly, showing sympathy for the elf’s worry for the fate of his lover. "It is best that she sleeps for awhile. Come," he stood up regarding briefly, the bloody arrow in his hand with disgust, before tossing it away. "I have a place where you both can take a moment to rest and gather your strength," he responded before proceeding to treat the wound with some herbs from the pouch hanging from the belt around his waist. Once, he had completed that immediate treatment to draw out the poison in the blade, he looked at Legolas again indicating the elf follow him.

Legolas swept Melia’s unconscious form into his arms and stared after the wizard as he drew away from them.

"I do not sense danger in him Mia," he whispered softly to her though she was quite oblivious to anything he was saying. "But he is not what he appears and that worries me. Unfortunately, we have little choice but to trust him for now."

If she were awake, Legolas was certain Melia would agree.

**************

With the sun on their backs, the wizard led Legolas through the tall grass, browned by the sun. Despite the sunlight overhead, the landscape still appeared gray and dour, blending perfectly with Ered Mithrin in the distance. As Legolas followed him across the terrain, the elf took time to study his new acquaintance and wondered if Dimulmaion was the Istar that had brought about the destruction of Melia’s mother and the rest of the River Women. Melia said that he was not the man she had seen in her visions and yet Legolas knew for a fact that Gandalf was in possession of great power. An Istar who managed to fight off a balrog would have little difficulty in conjuring a minor glamour to hide his identity. If so, why was he helping them now? If this was the Istar who was once allied to the Nazgul then what purpose did he have in prolonging their existence?

Perhaps the Istar had as little idea as Legolas, what would happen when Melia finally found the Istar she had seen in her dreams. Legolas wondered what would happen when they finally came face to face with the one who had possibly killed Melia’s mother? Would she kill him in turn or demand of him the answer to the question of what had done to the River Women. Gandalf had died as a mortal but he had been powerful when he lived and more so after his resurrection. Did he and Melia have a chance of combating such strength if it was pitted against them? If the Fellowship were here, Legolas would not be so defeatist about their chances but the Fellowship was not. He and Melia were alone at the edge of the world.

They walked for a good hour with Melia still in Legolas’ arms. His limbs grew weary but she was a weight he did not mind carrying. The fainting spell had taken her into slumber and Legolas saw no reason to wake her since in her unconscious state, she would be spared the pain of her injury. He shifted his gaze from the road ahead to glance at her briefly. She slept peacefully, with her head nestled against his shoulder and he thought how childlike she looked when she was quiet like this. In her face was the nakd truth of the person she was, with none of the complications that made her so guarded or reserved. Legolas came to the conclusion that if she was ever his in the way he wanted he would love spending his mornings looking to her face as she slept.

"I never thought I would see an elf look upon a mortal that way," Dimulmaion remarked with a little smile.

Legolas looked up; his face feeling hot with embarrassment for he had not noticed the man had stopped walking and was observing him so closely. Dimulmaion looked at him with curiosity, not derision but Legolas felt nonetheless self-conscious about being caught indulging in so personal a moment. He was a Prince of Mirkwood, taught all his life to be king, to be a paragon of virtue that would be a shinning example for those around him. Thranduil had told him time and time again that a king did not show his thoughts to others and though Legolas knew that he was more relaxed with the friends in the Fellowship, he had lived his long life always being guarded about his thoughts.

"She is the woman I love," he muttered in response. "It matters not that she is human."

"Then you will live a good life together," Dimulmaion replied with a little smile. "For however long she lives."

"I am aware of that," Legolas responded, wondering if everyone had an opinion on how impossible their relationship would be. "I have been told that a number of times already."

"And you chose not to heed their advice?" Dimulmaion remarked, a brow arching at that.

"How can I?" Legolas retorted with some measure of irritation. "I love her and she loves me. I do not even know if she will remain with me once we are done with our quest."

"Your quest," Dimulmaion stared at him "You are here on a quest?"

Legolas bristled because he had revealed more than he should have. "That is our affair."

"Of course," Dimulmaion nodded and continued walking through the large field of grass. It was clear that he was headed for a hill of rocks not far away from where they lingered. "It used to be so quiet here."

"How long have you dwelt in these lands?" Legolas asked, glad that they had moved the subject away from Melia.

"I have only recently returned," the wizard replied. "I have been wandering for many years in the Far East and thought I might return to the lands I knew in my youth but they are gone. Too many friends have left this world," he sighed with a little sadness in his voice that drew Legolas’ unwilling sympathy.

"I know all too well what you mean," Legolas answered, referring of course to the departure of elves from these shores. Since the end of the War, the call of the sea had become too loud for many of his kind to endure and so they set sail for the Straight Road that would take them to Valinor. Legolas himself had heard the siren song but he remained tethered to Middle earth because like so many of the elves that had opted to delay that final journey, he had reasons to remain. His imperative to stay initially had been because Aragorn was still his best friend as was Gimili and so many in his life would be sorely missed if he left them too soon. Now there was also Melia and her presence in his life had ensured that he would remain in Middle earth at least until the end of her existence, painful as that might be for him to think about.

"Yes," Dimulmaion answered, not looking at him. "Many of your people are leaving these shores. Soon the elves will be a memory."

"Not all of us are leaving," Legolas found himself saying defensively. "Some of us are remaining behind."

"But you will go too," the wizard replied and though Legolas could not see his face, he knew that he was smiling. "In the end the call of the sea is too much for your kind."

"And what of your kind?" Legolas asked, certain that this man was not a man at all. "Who are your people?"

"Oh they are gone now," Dimulmaion’s voice became sad again, engendering a feeling of guilt within the Prince because he had provoked it into being. "They have either lost their way or gone from this world forever."

"I am sorry," Legolas offered. "I did not mean to stir such sadness."

"It has been there for some time," Dimulmaion said dismissively. "You have not told me your name or hers."

"I did not think I needed to," Legolas retorted, realizing that he had not introduced himself or Melia to the man and was surprised by his lack of manners. "You seemed to know so much about us."

"I do," Dimulmaion glanced over his shoulder. "But the introduction is always nice nonetheless."

"Then it is the least I can offer you," Legolas replied. "I am Legolas."

"Legolas," the man mused softly. "Of Mirkwood?"

"Yes," Legolas frowned, supposing that it was not so unheard of that he had achieved some measure of fame. The Fellowship’s adventures had become something of legend now, though Legolas hated the fact that he was looked upon as some sort of great hero. The purpose that had driven the Fellowship to fight Sauron had been the desire to see all that they loved remain standing, not for fame or glory.

"And she?" Dimulmaion inquired further.

Legolas looked down at Melia a moment before answering. "Her name is Melia, daughter of Hezare of the Tribe of Bors."

"Bors?" Dimulmaion exclaimed. "She is a long way from home. An Easterling is she not?"

"Yes," Legolas nodded. "I believe she hails from the Sunlands."

"I had chance to travel there once," Dimulmaion remarked. "Dry as a bone that country. Here we have mere patches of desert while there it is a way of life. They are a hardy people, though twisted by war and Sauron’s brutality."

"She spoke something of it," the elf replied.

"What brings an Easterling so far from home?" Dimulmaion asked. "Their women are not prone to leave home. Actually, their women are not allowed to leave their dwellings for that matter."

"She searches for her mother," Legolas answered, offering only a scant bit of information for he did not entirely trust Dimulmaion yet.

The wizard did not say much but Legolas saw his shoulder sag slightly and wondered why that answer made him react so.

"I hope she finds her," Dimulmaion said with deep sincerity. "But such searches often end with the seeker regretting it. I hope that is not the way with her."

Legolas did not answer but he feared the same thing and deep inside, he was certain Melia knew it too.

Part Seven:
Revelation

When Melia awoke, she did so with some measure of alarm.

As a Ranger, she was accustomed to knowing where she was at all times. To open her eyes and find herself in a place she neither knew nor recognised immediately sent waves of fear through her heart. Her first impulse upon regaining consciousness was to seek out her weapon for only when it was in her hand was she capable of facing the dangers before her. When she clutched the space beside her and found that it was gone, it drove into her a greater sense of panic. Her first impulse was to jump to her feet but the pain that coursed through her at that attempt, forced a cry from her lips and had a sobering effect on her state of mind.

"Let that be a lesson to you to not do that again," a voice spoke to her through the amber glow of flame around her.

Melia faced the one who had addressed her even as she was hissing in pain with her hand clutching, not a weapon as she had wished, but rather the bandage around her wounded thigh. Dimulmaion was staring at her thoughtfully from across the cavern Melia had now noticed they were in. She did not answer him for a few seconds as her eyes moved over the ceiling of their shelter because she was more interested in learning all she could about it. Judging by its size, it was not a very large cave for from where she was lying, she could see its mouth. Beyond it, the stars twinkled in the night sky and Melia was suddenly filled with the panic of not knowing just how long she had been unconscious.

"How long have I been asleep?" She muttered, searching his reflective expression for any inkling before he spoke.

"Almost a day," the older man replied. "The pain was too much for you after I removed the arrow. You fainted."

Melia balked at the suggestion. Fainting was the work of genteel females accustomed to soft living, not a Ranger of Angamar.

"I do not faint," she said stubbornly.

"Considering the agony that must have been caused by removing that arrow from your leg, there is no shame in it," he pointed out.

"I do not faint," she repeated herself, immovable on this point.

Dimulmaion let out a heavy sigh that indicated he was not going to argue continuously on this issue. "In that case, you selected an opportune moment to fall asleep."

Melia frowned and said nothing, deciding to choose the safer option of studying her immediate surroundings instead of fencing with him on her state of unconsciousness. The cave was small but was littered with enough belongings and evidence of past fires, beyond the one that burned in the center of its confines, giving good indication of its occupancy before tonight. It was upon realizing that she was alone with Dimulmaion that Melia discovered that their company was missing one of its number.

"Where is Legolas?" She demanded her concern for the prince overriding her fear of incurring more pain by movement as she tried to stand up in order to seek him out.

"Still yourself," Dimulmaion responded quickly but his tone was laced with sympathy for her feelings. "He is merely ensuring that my spell of protection is doing its work. For some reason, he is unable to take me at my word that we are safe from goblins."

"He is vexing that way," Melia remarked, easing into her sleeping place once more, glad to hear Legolas was well although she wished he were here.

According to Dimulmaion, she had been unconscious (not fainted) for almost a day and yet it felt as if she had been away from her love for much longer. While the desire to see him was intense, Melia could not help feeling a little embarrassed that she was longing for the Prince like a lovesick maiden.

"He has scarcely left your side," Dimulmaion revealed. "Not even to sleep. The only time he did leave is to ensure that my spell would protect us from the goblins because he will risk no more harm to you."

"It is pointless to convince him otherwise," Melia shrugged, intensely uncomfortable about discussing her feelings about Legolas with this stranger. Despite the fact that he had saved her life and seemed trustworthy, her private emotions were her own and she had no desire to discuss them. "He forgets that I am a Ranger of the North and am quite capable of fending for myself, though at this moment it may not appear that way."

"He loves you beyond measure," Dimulmaion reminded. "It is hard to be impartial when one’s heart is as lost as his."

Melia swallowed thickly and allowed herself to make one small confession to that remark. "His feelings are not unique though I think he does not fully appreciate what it is to love a mortal."

"He is three thousand years old," the wizard responded with an edge to his voice that could possibly be reproach. "I think he is perfectly aware of what he risks by giving you his heart. The question remains - do you know what it is to love an elf?"

Melia stared at him hard. "My hesitation is for his sake."

"Is it really?" He asked her softly.

"What do you mean?" Suspicion crept into her voice as she made that demand. Of course it was for his sake, what other could there be?

"Perhaps a little of it is for yourself," he replied as he continued to smoke his pipe. "After all, it cannot be easy to love someone who will never age, who will remain as beautiful as the first time you beheld him while you yourself, grow old and withered. There is no shame in admitting that you fear your feelings for him might deteriorate into envy, that the love you were willing to endure for his sake might twist into hatred and jealousy because he does not decay as you do."

Melia opened her mouth to protest but she could not. She could not because a small kernel of truth had surfaced in his words. Amongst all her reservations about Legolas, was the hint of that ugliness in the mix as well and though she might think herself a better person than to feel such things about an elf who made her heart soar each time she saw him, Melia could not deny its existence. It was one of so many things that made her fear a future together with the Prince of Mirkwood. She loved him deeply, there was no denying that but she did not know if she was strong enough to be his wife and yet equally, Melia did not know if she was strong enough to give him up either.

"You do not answer," Dimulmaion replied, understanding all too well her silence "It is none of my concern however."

Melia wanted to respond. Hearing her fears put so starkly made her realize how petty it was, how paltry the doubts seemed in the face of how she felt. For the first time, she felt the uneasiness drain from her because hearing a stranger’s unbiased opinion was liberating and having it presented to her so bluntly, made her understand that love was not meant to be easy, not between a human and elf or between a human and human. Whatever the combination, there would always be difficulties attached.

"For someone whose business none of this is, your arrows of wisdom fly accurately," Melia remarked with a hint of mischief.

"Thank you," Dimulmaion remarked as he stirred the meal that had been simmering on the fire and had filled the cave with a pleasant aroma. "It is difficult being so astute in one’s indifference."

His eyes met hers playfully and Melia could not help but smile. "You do it well."

"Now then," he stared at her as he filled the small bowl in his hand with some warm broth. "Tell me about your dreams?"

"My dreams?" Melia declared, cursing herself that she was unable to remain silent in her slumber. He had probably overheard her cries while she was tormented by the usual demons in her sleep. "Why?"

"They seemed to be plaguing you while you slept," he pointed out. "Your Prince did not tell me a great deal but I sensed they were connected to what brings you to Ered Mithrin."

"Who are you really?" She asked instead, certain that he was not merely some wizard who happened upon them so fortuitously.

"I will give you an answer only if you tell me what you saw at Dol Guldur and in your dreams," he returned instead.

"How do you know that we were at Dol Guldur?" Melia questioned suspiciously.

"Answer my question and I will tell you what I can," he insisted.

Melia drew a deep breath, not wishing to speak about her dreams to anyone. It had been difficult enough taking Legolas into her confidence without her having to reveal something so personal to a stranger she had met only hours before. However, owing the fact that this stranger had saved her life gave Melia some measure of latitude in allowing him to hear her innermost secrets. There was also a sense of belief within her that his presence here was not coincidental, that he might have some part to play in the search for her mother and the Istar who had Ninuie in his power.

"Ever since I was a child, I have dreamt about my mother," Melia revealed reluctantly and captured Dimulmaion’s undivided attention as she explained her unique heritage and the effects upon her nightly slumbers. Melia spared nothing, explaining her visions at Dol Guldur and the terrible images that had brought her to the edge of the world with Legolas at her side. Dimulmaion listened without comment. The only movement he made during her narrative was to present her with the bowl of broth he had poured earlier and indicating that she should nourish herself with its contents.

"Now it is your turn," Melia declared once she had finished speaking, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her chest by her revelations. "It is time for you to keep your promise."

"Then it appears that I have returned just in time," Legolas announced himself as he appeared at the mouth of the cave.

"As always elf, your timing is impeccable," Melia retorted playfully, unable to hide her happiness at seeing him.

In response, Legolas felt himself filled with relief to see Melia awake and appearing on the mend from the effects of the goblin’s poisoned arrow. He had spent the last hour patrolling the area, ensuring that the wizard’s enchantment, however it worked, did indeed keep away the goblins that had injured her earlier. Fortunately, whatever the magic was at work here, was more than capable of seeing to it that they would be left alone by the vile goblins living in the dark shadows of the wood they had left behind them.

"I am glad to see you are well," he replied warmly as he dropped to his knees beside her and met her lips with a gentle kiss while brushing her cheek gently with his fingertip. "How do you feel?"

"Like I have been set upon by a goblin’s arrow," she said wryly but then added because she could see the concern in his eyes, "but I am better then I was."

"You must be," he said sitting down next to her and facing Dimulmaion, "if you were able to make our wizard reveal some truth about himself."

"She is a shrewd woman," Dimulmaion chuckled. "She gave me no choice but to comply if I wished to hear her tale."

"And now that you have," Melia raised a brow in his direction. "Will you tell us who you are?’

"A promise is a promise," Dimulmaion sighed loudly, displaying some reluctance of his own at the telling of his origins. "I know something of this Istar that you speak. I know his reputation and it was the wish of one of his order that I find him, for the others not carried away by destruction or death have departed to the Undying Lands."

"You are speaking of Gandalf?" Legolas asked, wondering if Dimulmaion’s words were the truth. Why did Mithrandir not ask any of the Fellowship to make this journey instead of a wizard none of them had heard of? Prior to his departure, Legolas was aware that Mithrandir had passed some of the Istari’s teachings onto acolyte wizards who would carry on the work of guarding Middle earth against the forces of darkness when he and the elves had departed for the Undying lands. Was Dimulmaion one of these? Legolas wished he could be certain because Dimulmaion was extremely powerful for an acolyte.

"No," he shook his head. "There are Istari other than Mithrandir."

"I know of Radagast who dwells in the wood and Saruman who is dead. I believe that the Istar that is here is Pallando."

"Pallando?" Dimulmaion arched his brow. "What makes you say that, Prince?"

"Pallando visited my father’s court many years ago," Legolas explained. "I believe that when he left the Woodland Realm, he fell into the service of Sauron the Deceiver."

The wizard absorbed this for a time before he finally spoke in answer, "that is possible. However, my task is to escort the Istar that resides in Ered Mithrin to the Undying Lands, to save him if I can."

"I do not think it is possible," Melia stated for the first time. "He has done something unthinkable. He has twisted the River Women into some terrible parody of themselves. He has become a monster."

Dimulmaion’s voice became somber when he spoke again; "I am told that it was not his intention to be a monster. He was always something of a dreamer, believing that the way to fight Sauron was to eliminate the seed of evil entirely."

"That is impossible," Legolas declared. "As long as we have free will, we will always be swayed by good and evil. It is the choices that give our soul substance."

"I do not argue with you on that point," Dimulmaion replied. "But to him, it was a dream he was determined to fulfil. He believed that perfection came from an amalgamation of the best of both men and elf, to create a form of life that was beyond corruption."

"I cannot believe that one who would be party to the kidnap and despoilment of Lord Ulmo’s River Women could be anything but evil," Legolas retorted. "It takes a great deal of free will to twist a thing of beauty into a creature of absolute darkness."

"You may think so but sometimes the small compromises made with the best of intentions can quickly evolve into something immensely dark," Dimulmaion responded, his voice shrinking into a sad whisper. "Perhaps he thought he was acting for the greater good at the time, blinding himself with arrogance and devotion to his cause from the true nature of the beast he had chosen to ally himself with. The Istar were given men’s forms when they arrived on Middle earth to keep their ambitions from outstripping their calling. No one ever considered that the failings of men could also taint their thoughts."

"I do not think that the race of men has failed or has failings," Legolas added his voice to Dimulmaion’s sad soliloquy. "Elves often consider themselves better because of our longevity, claiming that we are superior because we live longer and have more civilized sensibilities. Yet we forget that it is because of our immortality that we have this sense of balance. For us, we do not fear that we have only a finite time on this earth and so we are not constrained by it to fulfil our goals. Men have no time to seek perfection because their lives are so short."

"Did you know we would be coming?" Melia suddenly cut in abruptly because the wizard had explained a little bit about himself but not enough to satisfy her curiosity. From the appearances of this cave, it seemed as if he had been here for some time. Had he been awaiting their arrival? If so, how did he know of it?

"That is a question I would like answered as well," Legolas retorted. "I do not sense that you are a danger to us Dimulmaion but I feel that your presence here is not merely serendipity."

"Then you would be correct," he declared without hesitation. "I did not know that it would be you two that would arrive specifically but I had a sense of premonition that I should wait, that the last part of my quest would appear soon enough if I held my ground. Sometimes wizards are forced to rely upon our instincts as elves do and mine told me that I could not complete my journey because I was not to walk the path alone."

"Then you know where we must go," Melia looked at him.

"Yes, I do." Dimulmaion nodded. "However, I will not lead you there without having your word that you will not move to strike the Istar until I have a chance to plead my case."

Both Melia and Legolas stiffened simultaneously at the suggestion but it was the Prince who voiced his displeasure at the request first, "that is an exceedingly difficult promise to make. You said yourself, the Istar has been led to commit some heinous acts, are you certain that he is capable of being reasoned with?"

"I have to try," the wizard said earnestly.

Legolas did not answer for a moment and Melia wondered what was running through his mind. For herself, she thought it would be extremely dangerous to grant the wizard his request for the fortunes of battle, especially with a powerful Istar may not allow them the opportunity to hold back without costing them greatly. However, she knew her elf and she knew that in him, compassion ran rivers that were far longer and more powerful than the great Anduin itself. It was in his nature to see the good in everyone, no matter how much he had seen in his lifetime that might indicate that not every person could be saved. She loved him for this but it was uniquely an elven luxury to be so yielding in matters such as this.

"We will do as you ask," Legolas finally answered and gave Melia a sharp look, demanding her adherence to his wishes to this matter. "But I will risk none of our lives if the situation calls for us to fight. I would do the same if it was your life as well or Melia’s and my own. Your Istar is no longer the person he once was. Good intentions aside, he may seek to kill us all to conceal the magnitude of what he has done."

Dimulmaion nodded slowly, deciding that he could not expect any more than was offered. Despite his reluctance to believe that the Istar was beyond redemption, wisdom demanded that he faced the possibility. The prince had agreed to Dimulmaion’s request while his own demands were not unreasonable. Considering what awaited them when they finally reached Ered Mithrin, Legolas was taking a sensible approach in trying to honour his word but at the same time, risking none of their lives if the Istar was truly beyond all help.

Dimulmaion met Legolas’ eyes and answered softly; "if it comes to that then I will stand by you and fight."

************

Melia’s injury saw to it that the company could not leave their cavernous sanctuary for at least two days despite her protestations that she was well enough to travel as soon as she had regained consciousness. Neither Legolas nor Dimulmaion would give in to her claims that she was able to continue their journey to Ered Mithrin despite her most passionate entreaties to them that she was healed. Finally, the Ranger was forced to surrender to her situation and though she did not complain as much that they were not yet on their way, she could not deny the impatience that gnawed at her while she languished on a sick bed. Legolas remained at her side, ensuring that she wanted for nothing during this time, showing infinite patience not only with her stormy disposition but also at being held in place when they were so close to their goal. The wizard was more or less the same and seemed content to wait out her recovery even though this matter was as close to his heart as it was to hers.

As for the spell that protected them from the clutches of the goblins that seemed to roam these lands in such great numbers, Melia saw little of it even though its effects could not be denied. Legolas who was more than accustomed to seeing powerful magic performed in his lifetime was impressed by the effectiveness of it since they were troubled by nothing during the two days of their sojourn. When he questioned the wizard about the spell, Dimulmaion would only reveal that it was a glamour that made those who feared light see it in great quantities. Considering how much goblins detested the light, Legolas had to assume that the enchantment was working splendidly.

After two days of rest, the companions set out once again for the Grey Mountains whose presence was no longer on the horizon but surprisingly close. The journey there would not take more than a day on foot even with Melia’s injuries giving them reason to pause frequently. They set out at the break of dawn, hoping to take shelter in the foothills of the mountain by the time the sun had set that evening. While it was good to know that Dimulmaion’s enchantment would protect them from any goblins, Legolas was still filled with a deep sense of uneasiness. There was danger all around them but none more potent or powerful then the emanations he sensed from the mountain. Not since being in the presence of the One Ring with Sauron’s influence saturated into its gold, did Legolas feel such emptying blackness.

"Prince," Melia noted as she walked along side of him, seeing the subtle shift in his body as they neared the looming mountain. He was shuddering, Melia thought to herself wondering what could make someone so brave and unswerving in his determination to be shaken.

"Aye Mia," he glanced at her briefly before his gaze returned beneath his furrowed brow as he stared hard at the uneven line of the mountain before them.

Melia smiled, finding that she liked his little nickname for her and asked gently, "are you alright?"

"Yes, yes," he nodded still distracted. "Danger draws close to us. I feel it against my skin like a cold hand."

"Then let a warm one give you strength," she replied gently and took his hand in hers and clutched it tight.

Legolas felt her touch and whatever loomed in the distance was forgotten as he cast his eye upon her again, looking first at the hand that held his with such affection and then at the eyes of the one who loved him with as much intensity that he loved her.

"When we are done here," he said quietly, revealing to her the secret he had told only one other person since it was conceived in his mind. "Assuming that we survive, I will be returning to Mirkwood."

He had hoped to tell his father when he returned to Mirkwood but what passed between himself and Melia whilst there had made it impossible. However, it felt right that he should tell her since he hoped that she would be apart of what he intended to do with his future.

"I thought you did not wish to return home," Melia stared at him.

"I have unfinished business there which requires me to make my appearance in my father’s court. I owe it to Thranduil to say what must be said, face to face," Legolas replied after a moment. "There had not been time when we were last in each other’s company and I must finish what I went there to do."

Melia did not ask him to explain because she knew that the reason he had departed the Woodland Realm so prematurely was because of her.

"What must you tell him?" She asked, sensing that it was terribly important and something that Thranduil was not going to be happy to hear.

"That I am leaving his court permanently," Legolas answered and it felt as if he had been holding his breath forever when the words finally left him. It was strangely liberating to say it even though he had kept it close to his heart like some dark secret he dared not reveal to anyone for fears he could not even begin to imagine. However, hearing it spoken made Legolas realize the world had not ended with its revelation. In fact, the world seemed quite oblivious to it and to him.

"Where will you go?" She asked, not surprised by his statement but unable to imagine him as anything else but the Prince of Mirkwood.

"I spoke to Aragorn before we departed the White City," Legolas explained. "I told him that if Faramir did not wish the responsibility of South Ithilien then I would accept it. I understand that the woods there are vast and beautiful and I know many of my people are unhappy about leaving these shores just yet. Elladan and Elrohir tell me that the elves who linger still in Imladris now that Elrond has left are restless. They wish to settle somewhere because Imladris without its Lord is not the same for them. I think if I offered them a place in Ithilien they might come with me."

"South Ithilien is terribly close to Mordor," Melia pointed out. "Will that not be dangerous?"

"No more dangerous than it was growing up in Mirkwood," Legolas pointed out, remembering the terrible creatures that inhabited the woods for so many centuries before the destruction of Sauron. The worst of Middle earth had for a time taken refuge in its darkened glens and shaded clearings. Legolas knew this because he had spent the better part of three millennia hunting down these beasts and destroying them to hone his skill and to amuse himself. "The forests of South Ithilien, I am told, is very beautiful despite their proximity to Mordor. The orcs who have taken refuge there will not linger for long if my people were to establish a sizeable colony in its wood."

"So instead of the Prince of Mirkwood, you will be the Elven Lord of Ithilien," she said playfully. "I do not think I shall ever become accustomed to that."

"It might be easier if you were called the Lady of Ithilien." He returned swiftly, catching her off guard with the question.

Melia’s eyes flew open and she stared at him in shock, "was that a proposal?"

"Yes," he nodded with a smile. "Marry me and be at my side. I know it will be hard toil but I swear it will be worth it. We can built something together, something that will outlast us. Melia I love you, I will never stop loving you and what time there is for you in the world, I want to spend it at your side."

"Prince," she swallowed thickly, uncertain of what to say in response to his entreaty. "I cannot give you an answer now. There is too much that is uncertain. Please, let us wait until this quest is done. I do love you but my heart is torn at this moment. I must know who I am before I can pledge my future to you, do you understand?"

He did not but Legolas was not about to force her to make a choice when she was unprepared for it. "I will not speak of this again until we are finished here," he said quietly, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice as he pulled his hand out of her reach and strode some paces ahead.

Melia watched his back retreat further ahead, cursing herself at being unable to make a decision. She knew she had hurt him especially after he had opened his heart to her and revealed his innermost dreams and desires for his future. She knew he did not make such revelations lightly and she rebuked herself for not being more sensitive to his feelings.

Dimulmaion who walked behind the two lovers remained silent and watched.

*********

They were coming.

He had known they were coming for some time now but until their presence stirred the goblins in the wood like a nest of insects catching the scent of prey, he had not realized how close they truly were. In reality, his miscalculation was due to the fact that much of his power was fixated on one purpose and very little of it could be spared for other uses. His prescience was limited to his immediate surroundings though in the beginning, he was able to watch a far wider field then he was now allowed. They were coming and yet there was little he could do to stop them.

The fear that they would discover what he had done was no longer a consideration. For so many years he had rebuked himself for what he had done at Dol Guldur, enough to know that nothing an outsider could say to him would equal the venom of his own self loathing. His life’s work had been twisted into an abomination of horror and his victims, a sob escaped his throat when he thought of the creatures they had been and what he had made them, his victims had avenged themselves by his enslavement to them. All that he had been was now trapped in a singular existence of ensuring that they never leave the mountain in which he had hidden them and it drained his strength like a leech drawing blood from a man.

There was no escape for him or for his charges.

That is why he did not fear his visitors for he had not the strength to even discern who they were, aware only that he was their purpose for coming. What was left of his powers was waning because his charges were becoming stronger. He had worked tirelessly to reverse what he had done but it was not possible and in his frustration and with their continued incubation, the balance of power between them had shifted from the jailer to his captors. Soon he would be drained of all strength and they would finally be allowed to see the world beyond this dark cave where he had secreted them for so many years.

And when they did, it would not matter who found them or whether or not he was alive, because very soon, everything in Middle earth would perish.

************

The foothills of the Grey Mountains were very much like the rest of the landscape, appearing as if it had been abandoned. Other than the smaller wildlife that lived in the long bladed fields of grass leading to the mountains, there was no other trace of larger game. Dimulmaion claimed that not even the goblins dared traverse this terrain and remained at a respectful distance even though they saw no evidence as to what would frighten them so. However, all this changed when they reached the mountains and followed Dimulmaion through its cracks. After encountering nothing but barren land it was forgiven if Melia and Legolas lapsed into some measure of complacency. The terrible danger that Legolas had sense emanating from the mountain had become almost common place now but until they descended into the dark caverns beneath the great range of rock, neither had been able to appreciate how sinister a realm they were entering.

Dimulmaion led them through twisting passages in the dark, lighting their way by illuminating the tip of his Noldereth wood staff in much the same way Gandalf had once led the Fellowship through the mines of Moria. They moved deep into the mountain in steep descent, passing the ground level Legolas was sure until they were so far into the earth that Legolas felt his connection to the land above thin. The lack of sun made the elf uncomfortable but he hid it well, his senses seeking out danger even though at present the walls of their surroundings were saturated with it.

He had not spoken to Melia other than making a few obligatory remarks about their situation, her welfare during the journey and the path they were taking to the mountain. It required no clairvoyance for her to guess that he was still angry with her. She could not blame him for his anger and envied his certainty that their lives together would not result in tragedy. Melia wished she had his faith but her world was not as gracious as his. Her life had been full of hard realities which she had been forced to face alone. Melia doubted that Legolas had ever faced a moment alone during almost three thousand years of existence where he was truly alone. Yet even as she thought this, she knew that it was an excuse to justify her fear of giving her soul to him, even though she had already shared her heart and body with him.

Legolas seethed silently but he knew that it was not Melia’s fault that she could not give him the answer he desired so much. She had not his years of experience to draw from to tell her that whatever happened; their love would overcome any hardship. Her world was far different from his, as was her life. She was frightened; even he knew that much and though he was angry with her, he also understood her hesitation and that drew the bite from his ire somewhat.

His thoughts slipped away from Melia when they entered the mouth of a new cavern and the gleam of light from Dimulmaion’s staff illuminated it with such brilliance that for an instant, Legolas had to turn away from the sharpness of it. It took a few seconds to accustom himself to the overpowering brightness after being forced to travel in near pitch-black darkness. Once the glare had faded from his vision, Legolas found himself staring in wonder at the scene before him.

Durin’s city lay before them, an expression of majesty carved out of the rock and inlaid with marble. Not since the great dwarf city of Moria had Legolas seen such crafted splendor and like it was in Moria, found himself marveling at the skill of the race. It made him wish that Gimli was here because his old friend would have no doubt loved to have taken in the wonder of the construction before him. Great columns rose into the ceilings so high that it was something of a marvel when one considered the diminutive race that had carved them. Polished marble covered the floor and it seemed to stretch across the space of the mountain.

However, what had caused the astonishing glow was not at all from the impressive construct of the dwarf city but rather the reason they had chosen to settle in Ered Mithrin in the first place. The radiant light that had almost blinded the company of travelers entering the city was the result of what appeared to be millions of gemstones gathered in one place. A fortune beyond the dreams of avarice stood before them, unclaimed by any and forgotten with time. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, objects fashioned of gold and silver lay sprawled before them like a wanton mistress tempting them with her lusty gleam. The dwarves’ lusty appetite for such treasure was well known and it was one of the reasons why elves and dwarves seldom agreed on anything. Unfortunately, their desire for such treasure was greater in only one other race in Middle earth.

"What happened here?" Melia whispered, wonder had turned quickly into horror as they stepped further into the city and discovered among the beauty of the dwarf city and the gemstone littering its confines, something whose only power was to strike fear into all their hearts.

Legolas shook his head because he had been in this city once long ago. He had mediated some business for his father with Durin’s folk but those negotiations had come to naught because it was not long after that a nest of cold drakes had decided to lay claim to the city and horde the treasure for themselves. It was common knowledge that the dwarves residing in the city were killed by the creatures and the mountain was since known as a haven for cold drakes. When he and Melia had first journeyed here, Legolas had thought that perhaps it was the drakes that frightened the goblins into keeping clear of the mountain. However as he stared before him now, Legolas knew that it was not drakes that they feared.

It could not be when those drakes lying on the floor before himself; Melia and Dimulmaion were dead.

Their bones bleached through time and forces that Legolas could not begin to understand, lay intermingled with the jewels these drakes had attempted to horde for themselves through destruction and death. Complete skeletons were lying in scattered collections throughout the cavern as if some great force had swept through the enormous city and smote the drakes where they stood. What had killed them had done it fast and utterly, giving the creatures neither time to escape nor fight back. It was like moving through a menagerie of bones and seeing such mighty creatures, killed with such ease, shot fear through everyone who saw it.

"What power did this?" Legolas turned to Dimulmaion expecting the wizard to have some answers for him.

Dimulmaion did not speak but his eyes revealed much. Legolas saw that he was just as horrified by what they had found though not necessarily surprised. His expression shifted subtlety from horror to sorrow, possibly at the realization that it was the Istar he was trying to redeem that had caused this destruction. It was quite something to see death on such a scale, even if it was of creatures that had no value and were inherently evil. Still, seeing beasts as powerful as cold drakes reduced to piles of bones lying in the belly of a mountain would chill even the steeliest of hearts in spite of their inclination to fear such creatures.

"The Istar," the wizard whispered softly.

Legolas stared at him sharply. When Gandalf fought the Balrog in Moria, the battle had claimed his life. If it were not for the fact that the wizard was a Maiar spirit, he would have remained permanently in Mandos’ realm and not been resurrected some days later. Mithrandir’s power was great but even Legolas did not think him capable of single handedly vanquishing a nest full of cold drakes with such complete destruction that their bones now lay in piles like an uncovered graveyard. It was beyond Legolas’ comprehension that what he was seeing before him was the work of one man and if it was the work of one man, how in Eru’s name could they hope to stop him?

"Do the Istari have this kind of power?" Melia asked the question that Legolas could not.

"Not usually," Dimulmaion answered, shaking his head as if he were in a daze. "However, he has been dabbling in forces that should not be abused and who knows how it may have affected him."

"I for one am grateful that we did not have to face these creatures in the flesh," Melia remarked, her gaze sweeping across the skeletal remains of the cold drakes and shuddered a little. Even in death, they looked fearsome. She recalled the creature that she had battled at Arwen and Eowyn’s side at the Blue Mountains, thinking how difficult it was to kill one drake. She could not even begin to imagine their chances if they were called on to fight the number that made up this nest within the dwarf city. "Still, I do not know if I wish to face what has vanquished all of them either."

"Do you really think you can convince him to make the journey to the Undying Lands?" Legolas asked Dimulmaion who did not answer immediately. His mind seemed to be trapped in something of a fog and Legolas guessed that he was more shocked than he cared to admit by what he was seeing here.

"Dimulmaion, do you think he can be reasoned with?" Legolas repeated himself.

For the first time, the wizard’s certainty of this was absent from his eyes. Legolas saw a man who was stunned by what he had seen and was certain of nothing anymore. Perhaps in some corner of his mind, he clung to the hope that the Istar might come to his senses but the evidence of what lay before them had destroyed that belief and now he was as rudderless as the companions who relied upon him to be their guide.

"I do not know," Dimulmaion answered honestly.

Legolas let out a deep breath, trying to decide what he wished to do. It was no longer about simply finding Melia’s mother but rather keeping this menace from leaving these boundaries to wreak havoc upon the rest of Middle earth. A force that could destroy an entire cavern full of cold drakes could do much damage beyond this mountain. Middle earth was just beginning to recover from the ravages of the War of the Ring; it was too soon to find themselves pitted against the forces of an Istar gone mad.

"I would prefer that we were not alone in this endeavor," Legolas spoke after awhile. "Unfortunately this is not to be. This menace must be stopped here and now. It cannot be allowed to leave this mountain and plague the rest of Middle earth. Do you understand?" He stared at Dimulmaion hard.

"Yes," the wizard nodded in grim agreement. "I do."

Legolas turned to Melia, his expression softening as his gaze met hers once more. Forgotten was their earlier quarrel. It seemed trivial when their time together was dwindling fast since it was very likely that neither of them would survive the battle with the Istar. Yet, they still had to try. He looked into her eyes and saw that she understood what was being asked of her and in response, she raised her head high with courage and reminded him all over again why it was he loved her so.

"This was not my plan," he whispered softly as his hand reached for her cheek. "I wanted a lifetime with you."

She held it against her face, savoring the feel of his upturned palm against her skin. She shifted her head slightly and planted a small kiss on his hand. "I know."

"It must end here," Legolas explained. "You know that."

"Yes," she nodded. "Whatever we must do, I will be by your side however it comes to pass."

Legolas smiled at her lovingly and whispered, "I love you more than my life. You would have made a wonderful queen for my kingdom in Ithilien."

"You would have made me happy," she answered in turn.

They kissed each other gently, taking a moment to themselves because it was all that they had left to them. Neither expected to survive the battle with an Istar who could do this but dying was permissible if they could take him with them. When they parted, it was with complete acceptance of the dying to come if that was what was required. They were both at heart, idealists who believed in sacrificing themselves for the greater good, no matter how jaded each might sometimes profess to be.

"It is time. Wizard," Legolas said firmly as he and Melia left behind their tender moment and returned to the business at hand. "Take us to the Istar and let us finish this."

************

The Istar chose not to run.

It would have been so easy if flight would solve this but escape was an option that no longer existed for him. He saw their determination in his mind’s eye to end the threat of him because they believed him responsible for the destruction of the drake nest in this mountain. A part of him wished he had the power to wreak such havoc because it would have made things a great deal simpler if he had it at his disposal. So much could have been changed if he had the strength to devote to its cause. Unfortunately, what power he had when he arrived in Mithlond with the rest of his brothers was depleted considerably in his undertakings since departing from Dol Guldur. He had been siphoned off slowly and surely, feeling it draining from his body until nothing but a husk would remain behind one day. He would have died long before that.

And despite his doom, it was still not enough.

His creation was too powerful for him. All he had managed to do since bringing them here was to prevent their awakening into the world and that had taken almost every ounce of strength within him to maintain. He could not stop their ravenous hunger and they craved constantly. When they had first arrived, the feeding had been good. He had more than enough power at his disposal to ensure that he and his charges were able to slip past the drakes to find sanctuary in one of the forgotten rooms in Durin’s abandoned city. Mistakenly he had believed that the drakes would never allow intrusion into their domain so he would be safe from Sauron’s forces should they chose to pursue him. How terrible a mistake that had been.

All he succeeded in doing was to ensure that his creations fed well.

Slowly but surely they drained the cold drakes that had no inkling of what was happening to them and thus had no way to combat it until it was too late. They ambled along in their enclaves filled with treasure, hoarding as usual the gold and precious jewels they never used to buy luxuries or comfort, puzzled by their lack of energy but unable to reason out what was happening to them beyond that one realization. They continued this way until one day they simply did not even have the strength to walk or to leave their confines to nourish themselves. They died where they laid down in fatigue, aware that some malaise had overtaken them but not possessing sense enough to understand what that might be.

With the passing of the drakes, the tendrils of hunger stretched forth beyond the mountain, seeking life in any shape or form. For a time, his creations were satiated by the goblins that dwelt on the foothills until the vile creatures understanding that something darker than themselves was hungry enough to see them as a meal. The goblins sensibly fled the area and retreated beyond the reach of the creatures that were slowly killing them. Since their departure, the feeding had been poor and with each day, the Istar sensed the intense hunger that drove his creations to struggle more violently than they had ever done before, to be born finally into the world.

He had struggled for so many years to keep this from happening and now he was finally beaten.

He had lingered and waited because he sensed one amongst them who had the strength to take his place, to restrain the evil that was struggling for freedom in a battle he could not longer continue to fight. If he could hold on for just a little longer until they arrived, then all would not be lost. There was a chance that the world would never discover what evil he had spawned in Dol Guldur that was now about to awaken unless he was replaced.

He just needed to hold on for a little longer….

*************

Even before Dimulmaion told them that they were nearing their destination, Legolas Greenleaf felt it most acutely. They had crossed the graveyard of gems and cold drakes, leaving behind the splendor of the main hall and moving deeper into the city. From cavernous passages, they now traveled within corridors of white marble polished and smooth despite the years of neglect. It felt strangely disorientating and Legolas was reminded why he disliked enclosed spaces so much. Elves thrived in the sunlight and the open air. This confinement took them away from the light of the world in which the elves thrived the best. The threat that loomed all around him was so palpable now that Legolas was in danger of choking on it. He tried to dispel it from his senses because it could only cause harm but it refused to go away, clinging to him like stink to the skin.

"Prince?" Melia took his arm as she saw him falter a little. "What is it?"

"We are close," his gaze fixated on the doorway at the end of the corridor.

"He is right," Dimulmaion agreed staring at the doors whose wood had started to rot from age. "The Istar we seek is there. I can feel him."

"Can he feel you?" Melia asked as she unsheathed the dagger that Legolas had given her in place of her crossbow. She would have preferred her own weapon but it was useless without a fresh supply of bolts and Melia wanted to be capable of defending herself.

"Yes," the wizard nodded grimly; not about to hide this fact since it would become apparent the moment they crossed the threshold of the door. "He has been awaiting us."

"Well," Legolas sighed heavily as he unslung his bow from across his back and prepared himself to engage the enemy, "we should not disappoint him."

Fearlessly, the elf strode forward, leaving Melia and Dimulmaion behind briefly before they hastened their pace to match his. Melia found herself walking alongside her prince; ready to face whatever dangers awaited her. He offered her a little smile as they reached the door but no words were spoken for all they needed to say to each other had been done before this. Whatever lay behind that door, they would face together and as Legolas stared into Melia’s eyes all too briefly, he knew that whatever happened, she would be at his side. The wizard stared at them both, offering them his own silent pledge to fight with them, whatever took place once they crossed the doorway.

Legolas pushed the door open, allowing it to creak loudly as fragments of wood crumbled underneath his palm. Legolas had seen trees in Mirkwood that were diseased that had the same appearance and he wondered if the Istar was responsible for this too. Unfortunately, there was little time to ponder the question when the door swung open in a wide arch once Legolas had propelled it forward with enough strength to ensure that its own weight swept it the rest of the way.

The sight within was enough to freeze the blood in their veins.

For a few seconds, no one dared speak. They could only stared in astonished horror. It was thought that the skeletons of so many drakes were a horrifying enough sight to behold but they were wrong. This before them was far worse. It was a scene of evil not seen since Angband during the First Age of the Sun when Melkor had created a host of terrible demons to fight his war against the Valar, if any of them were alive to remember it. The large room was filled with gelatinous globules of viscous material encasing the vague form of a woman within its cocoon-like prison. Through the slime inside it, they could see movement; fingers attempting to breach its wall, desperate clawing that made those who witness it sick with disgust.

In the center of this vile hatchery sat the man who was the creator of this terrible vision before them. His eye stared at them from hollow sockets and his cheeks were sunken so much that his face appeared almost skeletal. His hair was gray and long, pooling around him where he sat cross-legged. His robes of blue were darkened almost to black and his arms stretched out reverently towards the cocoons surrounding him were spindly with skin hanging from his bones. He gazed at them through watery blue eyes, fixating on their faces as if he needed a point of reference or else he would lose them completely. The Istar turned his uncertain gaze upon Dimulmaion and exclaimed with great relief.

"Pallando, you have come."

Part Eight:
Ninuie

For more seconds than Legolas could keep count, no one spoke following the Istar’s revelation.

Legolas was stunned into disbelief as his gaze looked away from the horrific scene before them to rest finally upon the face of the wizard he and Melia had known until now as Dimulmaion. Accusation filled his eyes as he waited for Dimulmaion - Pallando to explain although rage did not immediately grip him. This was largely because his mind was whirling through his recollection of Dimulmaion’s revelations about his identity. Begrudgingly, the elf was forced to admit that at no time did Dimulmaion ever deny being Istari even if his words were somewhat cryptic at times. Presently, the wizard himself did nothing to illuminate the situation, his own eyes fixed in open anguish on his emaciated brother before him.

Melia however, was not restrained by memories of what Dimulmaion had said previously and wasted no time in demanding openly another piece of clairification.

"If you are Pallando then who is that?" She asked pointing to the other.

Dimulmaion continued to stare at the other Istar, his eyes brimming with sorrow but he answered her question nonetheless because they deserved an answer for no matter how cleverly he had masked his identity, he did in truth deceive them.

"That," he said without moving his gaze from his Istari brother. "That is Alatar, a Maiar of Orome, as was I."

"I knew you would not turn your back upon me Pallando," the Istar Alatar spoke, his ghost like face attempting to smile but to those present, it looked instead like a grimace of pain. "I knew that you would find me someday."

"I never turned my back upon you Alatar," Dimulmaion replied as he approached the Istar slowly. "I left because you were more dedicated to your dreams of creating new life then you were to fighting the will of Sauron. It was not what we were sent here to do."

"I was trying to fight the will of Sauron!" The Istar cried out like a child attempting to justify the pulling of wings from an insect. "I wanted to create something that would be adverse to his will, something that could not be swayed by his evil or become corrupted by it."

"And you have created something," Dimulmaion replied, his gaze sweeping across the obscene hatchery about them. "Something that has no need of being corrupted by his evil."

The Istar eyes dropped to the ground, shame overcoming his face for he knew to what his friend referred. "I did not mean to do this," he whispered, lips quivering as he tried to explain himself. "They said they would help me. They said that they wanted to realize my dreams. I sought to use them as a means to an end but did not realize that I was the one being used."

As he spoke, his body seemed to tremble as if taking his attention from one act to accomplish another was weakening him even further. He seemed so frail that it was impossible to believe that this being was a Maiar spirit sent from Valinor to save Middle earth from Sauron’s darkness. How had that mission become so utterly twisted into this abomination of itself?

"You made a bargain with Nazgul!" Dimulmaion rebuked sharply. "How could you do that? How could you allow yourself to be party to this abomination?"

"It was my way of fighting Sauron!" Alatar burst out, his voice threatening to break into a sob at any moment at Pallando’s lack of understanding. "I thought if I used the river women, creatures of purity, without any stain of darkness to them that I could make my creation work."

"Your creation!" Melia burst out, having heard more than enough to be provoked into speaking. "My mother is one of those that you took! Is she here? In one of these, these things?"

"Your mother?" Alatar stared at her in shock as if noticing her for the first time. "Which one is your mother?"

"Ninuie!" Melia almost shouted in fury, unable to believe that somewhere in this disgusting collection of cocoons was her mother or rather what was left of her.

If seeing his Istar brother had not brought him to tears, then hearing the name of one of his victims surely did. The Istar started to sob loudly at the mention of Ninuie’s name and for an instant Melia did not know how to react. She looked to Legolas for help but the elf was just as bewildered as she regarding his manner. For a moment, none of the company could say anything because they were robbed of all thought upon hearing the Istar vent his tears of grief they did not know or understand.

"You are the child," he managed to gasp through his tears. "You were the child she spoke of."

"She spoke of me?" Melia took a step towards him but Legolas caught her arm to ensure she did not approach the Istar too closely. Despite the man’s remorse, Legolas still did not trust that the Istar was a benign as he appeared.

"You and the man were all she ever spoke of," he said in a small voice. "In the beginning, she used to beg to be released so she could be returned to him. As the years followed, she stopped making the plea but I often heard her muttering their names. In the end, the names were all that were left of who she was."

There were tears in her eyes as Melia turned away from Alatar, not wishing him to see her weep. She felt Legolas’ hand on her shoulder, trying to offer her comfort but it seemed paltry in light of what she had just learnt. She cast her gaze upon the hatchery and saw that within their cocoons, the river women were oblivious to their presence. She saw hands flailing sluggishly through the resinous fluid they were trapped within like amber, trying to break free of the membrane that kept them out of the world. Nails clawed at the walls, some strained the material to breaking point but it was not enough to escape.

"Which one is she?" Melia demanded when she looked up at Alatar again.

"She will not know you," Alatar answered, still appearing as if a fog was resting over his mind.

"Tell her!" Legolas added his voice to the mix forcefully.

Alatar's eyes drifted across the floor of the chamber before coming to a rest upon a cocoon at the far end of the chamber. Melia’s breath caught when he paused and nodded in her direction. She swallowed thickly; barely aware that Legolas was holding her arm protectively when she walked towards it. It appeared no different than any of the other cocoons that were found within the chamber. She could see the faint outline of a body inside it, struggling to escape the prison of flesh. A wave of nausea welled up in the pit of Melia’s stomach seeing the figure’s hand clawing at its boundaries, trying to rip through the membrane that held her within.

Despite her revulsion, Melia placed her hand against the slick wall and recoiled inwardly at its warmth. She was reminded of an insect egg she had once seen and the connection almost made her gag in disgust. The cocoon’s membrane was warm against her skin and beneath its thin layer, she could feel the gelatinous fluidity of its contents. The figure inside became very still, most likely because it sensed her presence. Suddenly, a fist struck the flimsy walls of the membrane, trying to break through in order to catch Melia’s hand. The Ranger shrank back in fright and was then overcome with anguish when it dawned upon her that it was from her own mother that she recoiled with such disgust.

Legolas felt his heart break with sorrow for his love when Melia buried herself in his arms for comfort. He could feel her sobbing softly against his chest and burned with anger that after searching for so long, this was the reward for Melia’s efforts, to find not her mother, but a creature that bore little resemblance to the woman who gave her life. He would have killed Alatar for causing Melia that injury alone.

Dimulmaion or Pallando, whatever you call yourself," Legolas declared firmly, unable to endure seeing her pain as he held her close. "This cannot go on. These poor souls deserve peace. They cannot be allowed to exist in this way."

The wizard drew a deep breath, meeting Legolas’ eyes and it was at that instant that the elf saw how difficult this was for him. The Istar Pallando had come in search of his friend, hoping to bring him redemption but Legolas suspected that not even Pallando could imagine how far into darkness Alatar had descended. In his heart, Legolas felt great sympathy for Pallando and to some extent, Alatar as well, his devotion to an ideal had driven him to commit the worst atrocities imaginable. Legolas now knew where that overwhelming evil he had sensed since approaching the mountain originated. It did not come from Alatar; it came from the creatures trapped inside their cocoons.

"No, it cannot." Pallando nodded in agreement and faced his old friend once again. "Alatar, these beings you created out of Umno’s blessed must be released from their torment. What has been done to them cannot be undone and their torture continues as long as they live. Let them go, Alatar, let them go to the Hall of Mandos, as they should. Do that and we will sail the Straight Road and return home."

The vague expression on Alatar’s face seemed to clear at Pallando’s suggestion and he stared hard at his brother. For a brief instance, Legolas felt hope flicker in his heart at the possibility that Pallando’s heartfelt entreaty might have succeeded in convincing Alatar to surrender without further conflict. However that hope withered when Legolas saw the Istar’s eyes sharpen into points of flint and he stood up, his body stiffening with anger.

"You did not come here to help me!" Alatar cried out in betrayal. "I thought you came here to take my place! I have been waiting so long for you to find me, to help me! Now you wish me to abandon my duty?"

"What duty?" Pallando retorted in bewilderment. "These women have been twisted into obscene parodies of themselves. You have destroyed them more completely than any being has ever destroyed another! Let them go! Let them know peace in the bosom of Mandos. It is the least you can give them!"

"I am not keeping them alive!" Alatar screamed in fury. "They do not require that of me! They drain the life of anything they desire to feed upon. The only reason that they have not stolen your lives is because I have exerted what little strength I have left to keep them from killing you like they killed the drakes."

"Then what are you doing?" Legolas asked, his own confusion rising. "If you are not keeping them alive and they have no need of you to be nourished, why then have you remained here?"

Alatar turned to the elf and hissed, "I have remained here to see to it that they remain here. What they are cannot be unleashed into the world! I know what I have created and I have tried to undo it but the knowledge eludes me and so I remain here, keeping them and the world safe from each other."

"If they are so dangerous, why not simply destroy them? Give them the release from this twisted existence that they deserve." Legolas demanded.

"Because he does not know if he is strong enough to kill them," Pallando whispered, understanding at last why Alatar had bound himself to his creations in this dark place at the edge of all things.

Alatar, blinded by the passion of his work had allied himself with the Nazgul, in much the same way as Saruman and hunted the river women, one by one and brought them to Dol Guldur. At the fortress of Sauron’s evil, second only in darkness to Barad-dur, Alatar had put foolishly into effect his desire to create a being of purity, free of corruption, unaware that his noble ideals had already suffered that very same malaise and instead of creating purity, he had created abomination. Too late had he realized what he had wrought and tried to correct his mistake by spiriting them away from Dol Guldur when the Nazgul had withdrawn from the fortress to begin their pursuit of the One Ring and the hobbit who possessed it.

He had brought them to Ered Mithrin, hoping that its distance away from the war that Sauron had unleashed upon Middle earth would see him forgotten in the dark lord’s reckoning. Despite Sauron’s destruction, Alatar was unable to reverse what he had done to the river women and so they remained in their cocoons, the butterflies that would never emerge into the sunlight for to do so would mean that everything else living in it would die. Alatar had kept them trapped but even Pallando could see that he could hold on no more. Alatar had thought that his arrival here would mean that Pallando would take his place but the wizard had no intention of prolonging the existence of these poor unfortunates.

Legolas was correct. This had to end here.

"While they are trapped in this shell, they must be vulnerable," Legolas swept his gaze over the hatchery like a warrior preparing for battle. In essence they were, although Alatar and Pallando did not know it yet. There was only one course to take and though it pained him to do so because all these women were turned into instruments of destruction through no desire of their own and yet they would pay the ultimate price for it. "Perhaps that is the way to destroy them."

"Destroy them?" Melia stared at him. "That is my mother in there!" Her eyes looked at him with accusation.

"Melia," Legolas said gently, knowing no way to put this gently. "I cannot imagine asking this of anyone but she is not your mother. She has not been Ninuie since this Istar turned her into his creature. A river woman would die rather than become so destructive to all life. Do not let her suffer inside the shell of her ruined body. Let her go to Mandos and find some measure of peace."

"I cannot!" She turned away from him, crying out in sorrow at the choice that was being forced upon her. Tears ran down her cheeks as she saw the cocoon before her and the thing within that was once her mother. She approached it stealthily once again and placed her hand on the membrane, heeding not Legolas’ words of caution. Her heart felt as if it would shatter within her breast and she wept again as she saw the figure inside move through the fluid inside the membrane to reach her. When Melia pulled away in revulsion, she knew that Legolas was right. What was inside this shell was not her mother.

Legolas came to her, feeling more helpless than he had ever been in three thousand years and hating himself for forcing her to make such a terrible choice. "Please," he almost begged her. "I would rather die than hurt you but you must see the truth in what I say. She would not wish to live this way, no one would."

Melia wiped her tears away and nodded slowly, "I will not see her suffer any more than she already has. Let it end for her so at least she and my father can be reunited in Mandos’ realm."

Spinning around, she raised her dagger and decided that if this thing was to be done then it would be she who did, preparing to plunge the weapon into the membrane in order to end the suffering of the creature within it once and for all.

"NO!" Alatar screamed defiantly and raised his hand in her direction.

The Ranger was swept of her feet and swatted aside like a rag doll. Legolas watched in horror as Melia tumbled into the ground behind them, her body making a terrible sound of impact as she landed.

"Melia!" Legolas cried out and ran to her side.

"Alatar what are you doing?" Pallando demanded, unable to believe that the Istar had attacked the Ranger.

"I will not risk their freedom!" The Istar cried out and turned his attention to his brother. "I do not know if they can be killed but I will not risk the foolishness of others to give them their means of escape!"

"They must be destroyed Alatar!" Pallando tried once more to reason with his brother but it was becoming clear that Alatar’s mind had deteriorated in the face of his long confinement here, no doubt aided in part by the terrible guilt he must have felt for what he had done.

"NO!" Alatar screamed again, becoming more irrational by the minute.

Pallando attempted to approach him but the wizard found himself swept off his feet by an unseen force. He fell hard against the ground and discerned quickly that it was Alatar that had attacked. His heart sank at the realization that his old friend was beyond reason and that Legolas had been correct, that in the end, Alatar would give him no other choice but to fight.

Pushing himself up on all fours, Pallando raised his head and saw Alatar glaring at him, still surrounded by his cocoons, his eyes wide and almost feral with madness. Through his white beard, Pallando saw that Alatar’s teeth were bared. With sorrow, Pallando realized that Alatar was insane as he appeared and tried one last time to reach his old friend.

"Do not make me fight you brother," Pallando pleaded out, unashamed to beg. "I do not wish to hurt you."

"All I wanted was for you to come and help me!" Alatar screamed in turn, providing further proof of how far his mind had deteriorated. "To take my place before my life ended! I wanted to make things right again and you have taken that away from me!"

Another surge of power ripped Pallando from the floor and slammed him hard onto his back. The wizard let out a groan of pain and knew that if he did not retaliate soon, he would be injured beyond his ability to recover. Alatar’s insanity had made his powers wild and frenzied. It would exhaust him far sooner than normal to expend his strength in this way but before that his strikes could cause Pallando considerable damage. Pallando lashed out as he saw Alatar approach him, the Istar’s eyes were wide and his pupils opened to the sun, clearly beyond all measure of rationality.

Hurling his own power forth, Pallando threw Alatar to the floor, face first. The crunching of bone filled the air with its sickening sound and Pallando rose quickly to his feet, hoping to incapacitate him before he attacked again. Unfortunately, as Pallando was only a few steps away, Alatar raised his eyes to his brother, revealing a smear of blood running across his nose. There was fury in his eyes as he screamed and threw out his arm, his fingers pointing at the space above Pallando’s head. Pallando looked up in time to see great chunks of rock breaking free from the ceiling, plunging towards him. He leapt out of its way just as it crashed upon the ground, shattering the marble work beneath it.  

Pallando saw the rising cloud of debris and knew that he could not hold back because Alatar was not bound with similar restraints. By now, his brother had risen to his feet and was preparing to launch another assault. Pallando did not give him the chance to do so and sent a broken piece of ceiling flying at the disgraced Istar. Alatar froze the rock in mid air and for a few seconds, the fragment remained trapped in the space between them, suspended over the floor as it struggled to choose which direction it would go. Pallando could see the strain in Alatar’s face as he maintained the battle of will and magic, his jaw clenched and his teeth biting down in a grimace of grim determination.

Suddenly the rock exploded, unable to take the pressure placed upon it. Both Istar turned away as some fragments became flying projectiles that bit into their skin and drew blood. The rest of it crumbled to the floor in a cloud of dust. It was at this point that Pallando discovered that Legolas and Melia were strangely absent during this battle. While the most sensible explanation would be that they chose to take cover since bystanders would most likely suffer gravely when caught in the crossfire of battling wizards, Pallando knew his companions would not stand idly by and allow him to face Alatar alone.

It did not take him long to realize why they had remained strangely quiet during this engagement. Pallando saw what was happening to Alatar’s hatchery and came to the shocking conclusion that Legolas and Melia were dealing with a much greater problem.

**********

When the battle between the two wizards had first begun, Legolas had been kneeling at Melia’s side, ensuring that she was not injured severely after Alatar had lashed out at her for attempting to end her mother’s misery. Fortunately, the Ranger suffered only minor bruises and scratches, nothing that would impede her ability to fight. Though she was a little dazed when he helped her to sit up, Melia’s senses returned swiftly enough when she became aware of the pitched combat taking place between Alatar and Pallando.

"Are you alright?" He asked concerned as she gripped his arm and used it to support her attempt to stand.

"Yes," she replied quickly, wiping a line of blood from across her cheek. "Nothing is hurt that will not heal in time."

"The Istar is mad," Legolas declared, glancing over his shoulder to witness the progress of the battle so that he could ascertain how he might help Pallando.

"He was mad before this," Melia retorted bitterly, feeling no sympathy for the man.

All she could feel for him was pure hatred for what he had done to her mother. However, her attention was soon drawn away from the conflict between the Istari as her gaze rested upon one of the cocoons before her. Her eyes widened in fascinated horror as she saw a hand push against the membrane that surrounded it and then break through. The balled fist tore through the flimsy material, ripping it apart easily and sending a gush of wet fluid spraying about in all directions, splattering the other cocoons, the floor upon which it rested and even soiled Melia and Legolas’ clothes.

"By Valar," Legolas whispered softly. "They are awakening."

Tearing her way through the shell that had kept her prisoner for so long, the creature that stood up from the ruins of her fleshy cage was naked and covered with slime. Her form was very much like a woman with hair slick with fluid to appear almost black. The true color of her skin could not be discerned for the resin covering her skin was amber in its hue and masked her pigment. She paid little attention to her two observers, more concerned with her own appearance. She examined her long tapering fingers, ran their tips across her face and seemed to accustom herself with the world she had just stepped into.

For an instant, she looked like any woman and Melia found herself clutching wildly at the hope that perhaps the Istar was wrong, that whatever had been done to the River women was not as terrible as it appeared. The person before her was no monster, merely a woman appearing confused at her surroundings. If she were not a danger to others than perhaps Ninuie would be the same as well. Melia knew that desire sounded desperate but she was hurtling towards an unimaginable conclusion and was doing all that she could to avoid it.

"What are you doing?" Legolas demanded when he saw Melia take a step towards the creature.

Legolas had no such illusions about the nature of the beast before him. While it was wearing the skin of a woman, beneath it was anything but that. His elven senses could detect the terrible evil emanating from it, the evil that lay dormant now to Melia’s eyes. She was blinded by hope for her mother’s existence and fear of what she needed to do in order to release Ninuie from her torment. Legolas could not blame her for believing the creature before her was redeemable but he knew better. Even as she approached it, Legolas could see its eyes narrowing at Melia, looking at the Ranger not as a person but as prey.

"Melia!" Legolas called out before she got any further. "Hold your ground."

Melia froze in her tracks but she was not ready to believe that there was danger, not when she could see other cocoons beginning to stir with life. They were clawing at the walls of their shells, breaking out the way that this one had done. She saw the cocoon her mother was in, starting to tremble with movement and knew that soon, she would be face to face with her mother.

"Legolas, it is alright," Melia cried out in turn. "She does not want to hurt you."

Legolas was not listening. The archer had already removed his implements and was loading his bow in readiness to fire. His eye was fixed upon the creature that was staring at Melia with her dark gaze. At his request that Melia stop her approach, she turned her eyes to the elf and Legolas saw the malevolence there, followed by black hatred for interfering with her prey’s advance. "Back towards me Melia," Legolas ordered.

"But Legolas……" Melia started to protest.

"DO IT NOW!" He fairly roared, making Melia jump a little.

Melia swallowed thickly, facing the woman again and fighting the feeling that wished her to continue onward. Her prince would not make such a demand lightly and Melia could not ignore the order he had given with such intensity. Slowly she began to retrace her steps. The river woman saw that she was complying to the order of her lover and seemed to take great exception to this. Whether or not it was instinct or premonition, Melia did not know but when the woman raised her arm towards the Ranger, Melia’s first thought was to run. It was an instinct that proved correct when a dark veil seemed to surge forth from her fingertips. Diving out of its way, she heard the woman howl in rage upon missing her intended target. The dark veil came to rest on piece of wood that was probably a part of furniture in the days when Durin’s folk inhabited the city.

It crumbled and withered before Melia’s eyes, decaying in seconds when it should have taken years.

No sooner than it had disintegrated before their eyes, Legolas let his arrow fly. He aimed so that he would only need to shoot once. She saw the arrow coming and screeched an unearthly sound before raising her arms again. The strange power consumed the flying projectile and snapped it as it flew in the air. It tumbled towards the floor, its shaft withered, the quiver rusted and flaking. She raised her eyes to Legolas only to see another arrow surging towards her and this time, it was one she could not stop in time. It slammed into her forehead, tearing through flesh and bone. Black blood spurted out from the wound as the arrow’s force tore through her skull and emerged at the back of her head. She dropped to the ground wordlessly, her blood creating a pool beneath her dead body.

"Legolas! Watch out!" Melia warned loudly.

Legolas turned away from the river woman he had killed in time to see another had emerged from her pod to witness the death of her sister at his hands. Her eyes were glowing with fury as she hissed at the elf and once again that surge of power was moving swiftly towards her prey, only this time it was not Melia who was its intended target but rather himself. Legolas leapt out of the way, dodging what would almost have been certain death. He landed hard and saw Melia throwing her dagger at the beast, trying to give him time to escape the deadly reach of the creature determined to kill him.

As he scrambled to his feet, he looked up to see Melia’s dagger slicing through the body of the river woman. More and more of them were beginning to tear the walls of their prison and Legolas knew that if they were allowed to emerge from their shells, nothing would be able to stop them. He stood up as he saw more and more fingers piercing the flimsy membrane that kept them trapped, ripping away the material that had kept them secured for so long. He thought quickly as to what needed to be done and came to the swift conclusion that they were most vulnerable within their cocoons. They had to be destroyed before they emerged.

The elf thought furiously as to what was to be done and a solution came to light immediately, though he wished there was some other way to go about it. He raised his eyes to see Melia hurrying away from the creature she had struck with his dagger just as she spewed forth more evil power. The black veil did not strike his love but instead the fallen creature he had killed. Legolas saw Melia’s eyes widen in horror as the flesh decayed on the bones of the corpses, turning from rancid to dust within a space of seconds. Melia searched for him and was flooded with relief as she hurried towards him.

"What are we to do?" She demanded more than a little lost at how to combat this enemy.

Before them, all the cocoons were starting to shudder with life while Pallando and Alatar were locked in a life and death struggle. Their battle seemed almost inconsequential now, not when one considered what other dangers were beginning to awake inside the room. A thundering crash tore their attention away form the river women briefly as Legolas and Melia saw that the ceiling had collapsed due to the potent magic being used in battle by the two wizards. The shattering sound did nothing to hinder the progress of the emerging River women and it even appeared as if the noise was giving them focus in their emergence.

There was little that could not be destroyed by fire and as Legolas saw more and more of the metamorphosed River women attempting to escape their cocoons, he knew that it was the only weapon of any real use. Fire did not wither or decay, it remained unchanged no matter what power assaulted it. Igniting a small piece of wood, Legolas handed Melia his arrows and prayed that this gambit succeeded or neither of them would live to tell the tale.

"You are going to burn them?" Melia exclaimed.

"There is nothing else for it," Legolas replied without looking up as he set one of his arrows into his bow in readiness to shoot, lighting its quiver and upper shaft with flames. The fire burned quickly through the wood and Legolas could not delay in shooting.

Melia thought about her mother and knew that he was right. They had no other choice. Taking a deep breath to strengthen her resolve, she met his gaze. "Do what you must."

Legolas nodded briefly and aimed not at the ones who had torn their way out of the cocoon but rather at the one’s who had yet to surface. The arrow escaped his bow and flew across the air like the streak of a falling star. It struck the side of one cocoon, its walls thick enough to ensure that its shape did not rupture and extinguish the flame of the arrow. Instead the arrow remained steady in its side, allowing the fire to find fuel in the flesh of the cocoon before the flames engulfed it. A terrible wail screamed in their ears as the unholy creature within it discovered its doom in a symphony of heat.

One of the river women who had emerged fully screeched like a banshee in the night as she turned upon her sister’s killer. She chose not to send forth her cloud of decay but rather elected a more physical attack. She ran straight for the elf but Melia intercepted her with a powerful tackle that threw her to the floor. The creature stunned by the attack finally resorted to using her dark powers but as she attempted to cause Melia’s destruction, a force almost as powerful as hers, swept her across the ground, causing her to roll like bales of hay.

Melia rose to her feet and saw Pallando staring at her in relief while Legolas wore an expression of gratitude. However, her prince could not stop to express his happiness at seeing her alive, not when he had much to do. He continued to shoot at the remaining cocoons and even at the creatures half emerged while Pallando returned to the task of fighting Alatar who was determined to ensure the survival of his charges. Melia ran behind Legolas and removed the sword strapped to his back. The other river women who had escaped the wrath of his archery would soon converge upon him and Melia intended to offer him as much protection as she could.

Glancing briefly over her shoulder when an arrow surge past her, striking the fleshy membrane of another cocoon, Melia could not help but be awed by the skill of her lover when he wielded his favorite weapon. There was no doubt in her mind that his aptitude was enhanced by his elven heritage but Melia was certain that his reputation with a bow had been earned through sheer natural ability. When he strung his bow, he moved with almost fluid grace and one could not help but wonder that anyone could move so swiftly and aim with such deadly accuracy.

Unfortunately, she could not continue to appraise his magnificence in battle for there was still terrible danger about her. She saw one of the river women striding forcefully towards Legolas, recognizing his strategy. She was not close enough to ensure that if she spewed forth her terrible powers he would escape. The creature was making good pace towards Legolas who had seen her but was holding fast to shoot another arrow past her. Melia hurried forward, intercepting the creature before she could reach him. Lashing her foot out, Melia struck the beast against the leg. The river woman turned sharply to her in pain, preparing to attack when Melia lashed out, her blade swinging in a wide arch and slicing the fingers from the creature’s hand.

Another pitched scream followed as blood flowed from severed digits.

"Melia!" Legolas shouted, lowering his bow as his face contorted in fear.

Melia felt arms around her, pinning her own to the side of her body. She could feel the fetid breath of the creature against her skin and immediately felt fatigued as if the life were being drained from her body. In desperation, Melia threw back her head, connecting with teeth and soft flesh that could have been the creature’s lips. The grip around her slacked and Melia broke free, turning around to see the creature that had attempted to seize her, reeling back in pain. Melia took advantage of its disorientation, swinging the heavy blade in a neat arch and taking the River woman’s head. The weight of the broadsword almost made Melia stumble and she wondered how Legolas endured carrying the thing on his back.

Remembering Legolas made Melia turn to her lover. His efforts had set the room ablaze and the air was filled with screams of agony as the fire did its work to protect Middle earth from the creatures that might have wrought its complete destruction if allowed to escape. Suddenly, the creature whose fingers she had taken was upon her lover while Legolas ignored the advance to cause as much damage as possible. He knew that shooting an arrow would do little good and so Legolas opted for a more direct attack. Hissing with anger, the river woman lashed out at him as if he were a fly. The elven prince flew through the air from the first blow, landing hard on the floor not far away. Ribs that had only weeks ago been broken due to his encounter with the Olog Hai, snapped anew, sending a groan of pain through the prince.

Despite his injury, he saw the creature advancing upon him. Legolas forced himself to his feet, a groan escaping his lips as his stood up painfully. He had lost his grasp of his bow when the creature had attacked and he searched the ground for it. When he found his weapon, the prince felt his heart sink at the realization that he would need to pass the creature before him in order to retrieve it. The river woman, seeing that she had been able to hurt him with the slightest exertion of her powers, grinned triumphantly, a manic smile stretched across her face as she prepared to attack again.

"Legolas!" The Ranger shouted, catching his attention.

Legolas averted his gaze to Melia and saw her flinging his sword at him. The prince hurried forward catching the blade with one hand and swiftly firming his grip around the hilt to strike. However, the enemy did not use her considerable strength or the dark blast of power that could wither everything in its path. Instead her splayed out fingers aimed at his direction did something else that was as unexpected. He found that he was suddenly fatigued, as if all the life was being drained out of his body. In a matter of seconds, he was overcome with such overwhelming exhaustion that he could barely stand. Legolas dropped to his knees weakly, seeing the creature close in on him, that same sneer of victory across her face.

Suddenly, a burning arrow struck her full in the neck. The quiver tore through her throat, burying the arrow so deeply in her neck that it almost protruded from the other side of her neck. She screamed at the fire that soon ignited her hair and stamped furiously at herself to extinguish the flame. The malaise that had gripped the prince left him during her agony and he struggled to stand as he saw her hair starting to burn. Though he was considerably weakened, he was not worsening and Legolas watched with stomach turning disgust as the woman before him resemble a candle when her head was soon consumed with fire. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on the perspective, she did not suffer long for a second arrow soon flew, this one striking her heart and killing her dead where she stood and ending her agony.

Melia lowered the bow that felt uncomfortable in her hands. She preferred her own crossbow and no matter how well she might shoot with the one she now held in her hands, Melia felt that it was rightly Legolas’ to use. However, when she had seen her prince in danger, she had thought only of saving him.

The room was now ablaze with fire from their onslaught upon the sealed cocoons. They had killed enough in battle to ensure that no more of the creatures had escaped to wreak havoc upon Middle earth. Melia took a step towards Legolas who from where she was standing looked deathly pale.

Suddenly, his head snapped up in panic and he cried out, "Melia, behind you!"

Melia turned around and saw the cocoon her mother had inhabited to be torn open, its resinous fluids spreading out in a large pool. There was a moment of clarity when she felt a hand clench her throat, lifting her easily off the ground and felt her legs dangling helplessly in mid air. The air was forced from her lungs as she struggled to escape the vise like grip the creature had upon her. Melia stared into the face of the beast and felt her heart sink with an anguish she could not even begin to express. The face before her was one she recognized well enough. She had seen its features in the mirror so many times during her life.

It was Ninuie who was trying to kill her.

Legolas had rushed to her aid, not caring that his body had been drained of its strength, knowing only that the woman he loved would die if he did not force himself to move. He reached her, preparing to strike when the creature raised her hand at him and he was struck by that terrible feeling again, unable even to lift his sword high enough to strike. He was driven to his knees once more as a terrible weight pulled him to the ground. He wanted to gasp but he had not the strength to do even that.

"Melia," he croaked in anguish, unable to help her or himself.

"Stop it!" Melia pleaded helplessly with the creature that was once her mother. "You are killing him!"

The creature did not seem to register that she had spoken at all and Melia tried the only thing she could think of and it was a measure steeped in desperation. "Mother, please."

The eyes of the creature that was once Ninuie snapped open, staring at her daughter in shock. For a few seconds, she did nothing but stare at the victim in her grip before clutching Melia’s head with her other hand, forgetting Legolas all together. Melia did not know what to think as she felt nails digging into her hair as she was held securely by the back of her skull and forced to look into the face of the river woman before her. The Ranger was certain the creature was going to kill her for daring to remind her of who she once was. Melia did not care because though she saw Legolas lying face down on the floor unmoving, the slight rise and fall and his body indicated that he was still alive.

It did not matter if she died, as long as he lived.

Suddenly, Melia heard the creature who had been her mother, speak. The word escaped her like a strangled whisper but Melia recognised it.

"Hezare."

And that was the last coherent thing Melia knew before everything around her spun out of control.

**********

Images exploded in her mind in blinding flashes of light that made her flinch.

Melia tried to understand what was happening but could not conceive of any explanation that might shed light upon what was happening to her. She could feel Ninuie’s grip still tight around her throat but the pain seemed distant somehow, eclipsed by what was taking place about her. A moment ago, she had been standing in the middle of a monstrous hatchery, crying out in fear because her lover was being slowly drained of his life force by a creature that was once her mother. Now she was still in that creature’s grip but they were no longer where they once were.

Around them was the wood and its fragrance assaulted her lungs with its fresh scents of moist, living trees and loamy soil. It was a scent that had cradled her to sleep on many nights alone while she was a Ranger roaming the wilderness. The smell was powerful and the heat of the sun overhead was just as intoxicating. Melia would have become lost by its power if she had not known that none of this was real. She had presence of mind left to understand that this was something that she was seeing in her mind, not a state of reality.

Still, for an illusion, it seemed oddly familiar, Melia tried to place it but the memory was too far back in her mind to be able to place it clearly. She saw the Anduin before her, running through the landscape and knew it could be no other river for she knew the land well after years of searching for Ninuie by its banks. Melia tried to look at the creature holding her captive but the river woman was once again silent, her malevolent gaze having lost much of its hatred and she now appeared confused and troubled. Her face was contorted into the very human expression of anxiety and Melia wondered what it was that was happening that had them both in its grip. Ninuie’s eyes were fixed on a point in the distance and Melia found herself compelled to follow her gaze.

A man and woman were lying under a tree in the shade. It was the kind of tree that spread its branches through the air, offering shelter to any being that happened past it from the heat of the day. The couple was stretched beneath the canopy of leaves, lying together in each other’s embrace as they enjoyed themselves without shame of discovery or care in the world. They gazed at each other and Melia knew that they were in love, the kind that poets devoted so much of themselves to express and artists spent lifetimes attempting to immortalize.

The woman with her sheeny dark hair and her luminescent skin surrendered completely to her lover, a handsome man with skin of ebony that glistened in the sun when the sunshine covered it in a fine sheen of moisture. With a start, Melia realized that he was her father. For a moment, she could not believe it but there was no denying it the more she stared at him. He looked nothing like the weathered and seasoned warrior he would become in the years ahead. Here he was young and strong, appearing as if he was ready to take on the world single handedly. Melia could do nothing but stare at what she was certain was the glimpse of the past. The past that had been stolen from Ninuie when the River woman had been turned into the creature that was about murder her own child.

She had no memory of her mother that remained with her when she grew to adulthood and so these images of her parents in their youth were more than Melia could ever dream of having. They were so happy, she thought and wondered if her mother had wrestled with the problem of a having a mortal lover the way Legolas and Melia did. She doubted that Ninuie ever considered it because the two of them looked so happy together. Tears formed in her eyes as she saw her father holding her mother in his arms, laughing with joy and felt droplets running down her cheeks at the realization that he was never again that happy, not after he lost Ninuie.

His daughter had brought him love but not happiness.

Another blinding flash of light filled her consciousness and Melia shrank from it again. This time she opened her eyes to a new scene but one that was steeped in almost as much warmth as the first. There was sunshine again and a small house that sat by the banks of the Anduin with a window that faced the Misty Mountains on the Western shore. There was mallos in the garden and for an instant, the house resembled in some fashion the comfort of the hobbit holes she had seen in the Shire. Ninuie was smiling as she walked down the path away from the door and running before, taking uneasy steps was a child with dark hair and bronzed skin.

Melia felt her heart stop beating when she understood that she was staring at herself as a child. She was very young, not much more than an infant but she was loved by the mother who watched carefully over her. It came to her with a sudden start that it was not her memories they were seeing but rather that of Ninuie, buried deep inside her mind for so long until one catalytic event forced it to emerged from the darkness and that was the presence of her daughter. The memories were tumbling forward faster and the kaleidoscope of emotion and images were converging in a potent mix that made Melia’s head swim.

Blackness swept over them and the sunlight disappeared from the sky. It became cold. So cold that Melia could feel the chill right through her skin. Tendrils of ice wrapped itself around her spine and made her tremble. The pain around her throat was no longer registering in her mind. The darkness around her was all encompassing. The air reeked of sinister intent and the trees that surrounded them no longer appeared comforting but rather ominous. The thunder of hooves could be heard in the distance, gaining momentum with each passing second. It grew from a faint distant sound to a loud, pounding rumble that made Melia wince at its impact upon her ears.

Ninuie was running.

She was running on bare feet, her dress trailing behind her as she ran desperately through the tall grass, breathing hard, her face showing her terror. Dark hair followed in her wake as relentless as the unseen pursuers. The scene was visceral. It was primitive with fear and it was happening right before Melia’s eyes. Ninuie looked over her shoulder, trying to see if her pursuers were behind her but they were nowhere to be found. Yet both she and Melia could hear them. She could hear them closing in. Suddenly, Ninuie tripped over an exposed root of a tree, the sudden stop after running so fast ensured she took a nasty tumble.

A cry of anguish escaped her lips as she tried to get to her feet and realised that her foot was injured. Dirt covered her face as well as scratches and bruises as she hobbled forward unsteadily. She was sobbing pitifully, frustrated by her injury and the growing inevitability that she was not going to escape. Melia wanted to help her but she was only an observer to what had already happened. The course of fate would not be altered, no matter how painful it was to watch.

"I went to find my sisters," the creature before Melia stunned her by speaking.

The river woman appeared lucid for once, her gaze still fixed on what was happening before them.

"I was going to say goodbye, that I was leaving."

Melia did not speak but her eyes asked the question why.

"I was going away with him, with my man," the creature explained as if she were in a daze. "I was going to follow him to his land because I could not be without him. I knew it would not be a permanent departure for the man would not last forever, not him or the daughter I gave him but I loved him so, I would have crossed the heavens to be with him."

"What happened?" Melia found the strength to ask finally.

Ninuie turned her eyes to the scene once more and the sound of horses pounding in their ears soon evolved into the explosion of black emerging through the trees. It was difficult to say which was darker, the riders or their horses. Melia had never seen the things that rode hard after the fleeing Ninuie but she knew instantly what they were. The description Arwen had given her and the reputation of these beings left an indelible impression upon the mind. With their black robes trailing in the wind, their faces obscured and the horses they rode snorting with vile grunts, Melia knew without doubt that she was seeing the Nazgul.

The Ninuie of the past had screamed at the sight of them and she was running again, despite the injury to her foot though she was not as fast as she could be. The desperation in her eyes was wide and frantic, especially when she knew that she could not escape. The Nine fanned out and surrounded the terrified Maiar spirit easily, circling her like a ring of doom. Melia felt her heart reaching out to that poor trapped woman but there was nothing she could do. One of the Nazgul broke the ring and thundered towards the frightened woman, tossing something into the air. Melia had trapped enough animals in her time to know what it was. The net fell over Ninuie and sealed her doom as easily as it sealed her in its meshed confines.

"They drove me from the river," the creature resumed speaking. "They forced me away from my place of power. I was helpless in the Wood, they knew that."

"Mother," Melia whispered, finding it strange to say but aware that she had bridged an important gulf between them. "We can help you, we can find some way to return you to yourself."

"I had forgotten all of it," the river woman answered. "I forgot until you reminded me. I forgot my name, who I was and I even forgot the man."

Melia did not know what to say to that.

"He is dead, is he not?" Ninuie asked.

"Yes," Melia nodded slowly.

"He died believing I abandoned him," Ninuie replied, sensing it from her daughter’s thoughts.

"Yes," the Ranger answered because there was no avoiding it.

Ninuie was silent for a moment before her eyes rose to meet Melia’s again, "I am myself here because of you my daughter. You make me remember but I feel the wizard’s power growing within me. It makes me want to hurt you, it makes me want to destroy. I will not be able to endure for long. You feel it do you not?" 

Melia was weeping but she understood. "Yes, I do."

"I should never have left him," Ninuie whispered softly. "I lost him the moment I chose to leave our home, long before the Nazgul took me, before the wizard destroyed me."

"There must be another way," Melia pleaded. "There must be some other choice."

"No," Ninuie shook her head. "The time for my choices is past. All there is left is the end and I must find it. I will remain myself as much as I can when we return but you must do what is necessary."

"I cannot!" Melia wailed, "I cannot do that!."

"Please," Ninuie stared at her. "Send me to the man. Send me to Hezare."  

***********

Legolas felt as if he was dying.

In almost three thousand years of existence, he had never felt as awful as he did at this moment. His limbs felt like stone and each effort to move made him reconsider the entire notion as pain coursed through him. It would have been easy to let go, to let the fatigue claim him and succumb to the inviting numbness that was sweeping over his body. However, he would not yield to anything when he did not know how his Melia fared. Opening his eyes, he saw her still caught within the grip of the creature that that was her mother. She had stopped struggling and both were staring at each other almost trance like. Legolas suspected something was taking place between them but he could not even begin to guess what that might be.

Crawling towards her because he could not stand and he did not want to waste all his energy until he was ready to strike, the Prince of Mirkwood dragged himself painfully across the debris-covered floor. The air was thick with smoke and he wondered if Pallando still lived. A moment later, his question was answered as he saw Alatar spinning in the air before the Istari slammed into the floor, not far away from him. Alatar’s energy seemed to have drained with that final assault and he moved no more. Legolas watched as Pallando stepped forward, his eyes wet with tears as he approached his friend. The elf felt the wizard’s sorrow, knowing that Pallando had been given no choice but to put down his brother like one would put down a rabid animal. Legolas prayed he would never have to make such a choice.

"Pallando!" Legolas let out a gasp, snapping the wizard out of his grief and returning the remaining Istar’s mind back to their present circumstances.

"Prince," Pallando hurried to the Prince and noted his condition. "You have been drained of your energy. You must rest and recover your strength."

"I care not for that!" Legolas gasped, "something is happening between Melia and that thing!"

Pallando helped Legolas to his feet, using his healing powers to infuse the elf with some measure of strength. The Eldar had remarkable powers of recuperation and it required only a little exertion for Legolas’ natural abilities to give him a little more energy to function. Legolas pushed away from the wizard once he had power enough to walk on his own but each step forward came at a price and the prince knew once he had submitted to the will of his exhaustion, he would be quite immobile for some time. His hands grasped tightly the sword in his hand as he strode purposefully towards Melia, ignoring the pain and the pull of exhaustion upon his limbs.

"Careful prince," Pallando warned as he hurried next to Legolas’ side. "Their minds are linked. You may kill one and hurt both."

Legolas stared at him in frustration, "this cannot go on! Who knows what this link between them is doing to Melia."

As soon as he said those words, both the creature and Melia returned to life. The river woman relinquished her grip on Melia’s throat, dropping the Ranger to the floor. Melia hit the ground hard, coughing and clutching her throat as she tried to recover her senses.

"Melia!" Legolas called out and started towards her, his teeth gritting against the pain.

Melia wanted to answer but her mother’s voice kept her from doing so. Ninuie looked down at her, appearing as if she was still herself but that grip upon her sanity and her purity was waning fast. Even now, Melia could see the darkness creeping into her eyes again. They did not have much time.

"Do it," Ninuie ordered, her voice strained as if she battled even through her words. "Do it now before I harm you. I cannot endure any longer!"

"No," Melia started to sob, crying out against the unimaginable course she had to take. "Do not ask me this!"

"It must be done!" Ninuie hissed. "Release me while you still can!"

Melia blinked her tears away and turned to Legolas, sobbing as she cried out to him "finish her prince. Finish her!"

Legolas nodded, understanding completely. He had heard the exchange between mother and daughter and was saddened by the choice that Melia was forced to make but he had the power to spare her the agony of doing the deed herself and he would not fail her. Taking a deep breath, Legolas raised the sword in his hand and swung hard and true. The blade seemed to slice through air, making a slight swoosh of sound before the Prince pulled back with expert handling. For a moment, no one uttered a word and all that could be heard in the room was the crackling fire.

Ninuie’s head tumbled to the ground first, causing Melia to burst into fresh tears as the grisly scene unfolded. Her body collapsed soon after and both men let out a heavy breath. Legolas dropped to his knees as the last of his strength left him and he was overcome by the effects of the river women’s attacks. He cursed his inability to move because Melia was sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, breaking his heart with each sound she made. He wanted to comfort her but he could not even crawl towards her in his lamentable condition.

"Melia," Legolas croaked as he rested on all fours, aware that soon he would meet the ground.

She looked up at him, her face filled with sorrow but was moved into action when she realised how badly harmed he was by the battle. She scrambled across the floor and came upon him, clutching his body in an embrace as if she would never let go. As weak as he was, just feeling him against her was enough to sooth Melia’s sorrow. Melia knew deep in her heart that he had been right all along, Ninuie needed peace and now thanks to him, Legolas had been able to give Ninuie what Melia had not been able.

"Thank you Prince," she whispered as she held him in her arms. "I could not have done it."

"I would spare you that anguish my love," Legolas whispered weakly. "I would never see your heart broken by forcing you to do it."

"I love you," Melia said softly, holding him even tighter.

"I love you Mia," he answered with a weak smile. "Your mother’s soul will find her way to the halls of Mandos."

Melia nodded and hoped that perhaps Ninuie would find Hezare too.

Part Nine:
The Elven Lord of Ithilien

A thousand years into the Third Age of the Sun, the Istari had stepped onto the shores of Mithlond, having completed their journey form the Timeless Halls to begin their work in Middle earth. If it were not for Alatar’s insistence that he joined the brotherhood, it was quite possible that Pallando would still be there. Their friendship had been older than time and for many years after their arrival in Middle earth; Alatar and Pallando had been constant companions. They traveled to the Far East, saw the lands and people they existed there before returning to the West again.

When they had parted company, in some way Pallando knew it was a mistake and that his departure would come at a price. Alatar’s dreams had made him irrational and had taken his mind away from the duty that they had sent here to accomplish. Pallando should have remained at his side and tried harder to sway him back to their proper course. However, he had not. He had chosen to leave and now he found himself in this terrible place in time, aware that all that had transpired could have been avoided if only he had chose to stay with Alatar.

Standing over the ruined and broken body of his friend, Pallando wanted to weep as much as Melia had wept in Legolas’ arms at this instant. He lowered himself to his knees and brushed his hand against Alatar’s hollowed cheeks, knowing that he was dead. Alatar had given him no choice but to act and with chaos ensuing around him, Pallando had been decisive in his attack. The Maiar, who was his best friend in the world, no longer lived. Pallando wondered if his death had come long before this because the Alatar he knew would not have been party to the nightmare they had seen inside this room.

"I am sorry old friend," Pallando whispered softly. "I should not have left you."

Unfortunately, Alatar was beyond hearing anything.

He would have like to have buried Alatar but there was no time for such rituals. The fire was stinging his eyes and the Prince was struggling valiantly to remain conscious but it was obvious it was a battle he was losing. The creatures attack upon him had been severe even for his Eldar metabolism. Pallando would have to aid him in his recovery or there was every possibility he may never recover. It was the least he could do for Thranduil’s son after failing Alatar so utterly.

"Pallando," Melia called out when Legolas finally slumped into her arms. "We must get him out of here, now."

Pallando nodded and rose to his feet. The Ranger seemed more composed than previously but the wizard was sensing something rather disturbing from her. It was as if her heart had hardened against the pain of all that she had seen and she was allowing nothing to breach it again. Did this also mean the same of her love for her Prince? The wizard could not answer that question but he did not hesitate in reaching her to aid her with the unconscious elf that had endured as long as he was able considering the nature of the enemy’s attack upon him. Melia fastened his bow across her back and replaced his weapons before she and Pallando dragged him to his feet.

Both of them were coughing intermittently now as they hurried out of the burning chamber, with Pallando being able to do nothing more for Alatar’s dead form than to give him a farewell glance. They emerged from the chamber and hurried away from the fire. Whether or not it would spread through the rest of the city was uncertain but at this point none of them seemed to care. The darkness here needed purging and if it was a cleansing to be done by fire than none of them would argue the point.

"I am sorry about your friend," Melia said softly as they moved through the chamber where the drakes’ had died with their hoard.

"Thank you," Pallando whispered. "I know it cannot be easy for you to say that after what he did."

"I do not forgive him for anything," Melia said icily, not about to deny that her feelings towards Alatar would ever be anything but bitter. There were no words for what he had done no justification to destroy life as completed as he had but she did see that his death had hurt Pallando deeply and the wizard who had saved her life and Legolas’ had earned her sympathy. "I am sorry for your pain. I know that he meant a great deal to you."

"He did," Pallando nodded. "I would not be here in Middle earth if it was not for him. I was going to take the Straight Road home. I had hoped it was not too late for him."

"What will you do now?" Melia asked. "Will you leave?"

Pallando did not answer for a few seconds. It would have been easy to leave the world behind, to return to the Timeless Halls and forgot that this ever happened but he could not. He could not return home with the specter of Alatar’s absence to remind him of his failure.

"No," he answered finally. "I am not ready to take the Straight Road yet. It may be a long time before I am ready to do that, not after all this."

Melia nodded somberly, feeling as if she was just as unprepared for the next step herself. Her heart felt burnt out and there was nothing left inside her that wanted to feel. Buried under all this grief was her love for Legolas but she could not see it for her grief. Pallando sensed this within the young woman and it alarmed him greatly for he believed that the Ranger was about to reach a heartbreaking decision because of her grief that was premature and ill advise.

"You are leaving him," Pallando stated. It was more of an accusation more than it was a question.

Melia looked up at him and did not answer but then she did not have to. Her eyes spoke for her.

***********

Elves were not prone to such black sleep but when awareness finally came up Legolas almost three days after he had fallen, he was gripped with a great sense of lost time that left him uneasy upon awaking. His dreams had not been pleasant and when he awoke finally to find himself in the same cave that Pallando had first offered them refuge after Melia had been injured by goblins, he was unable to shake the sense of some foreboding evil lurking in the shadows. Fortunately, his return from the dreamscape assured him that he was on the road to recovery after his battles with the river women. Though he felt tired still, there was none of the fatigue and exhaustion that had threatened his life earlier.

Upon awaking, his first thought was to sit up and upon doing so, found Pallando staring at him across the small cave. A fire was burning in the middle of the space and outside Legolas saw that it was night for the star brought the twilight alive with its glimmer. Pallando’s expression was sad and Legolas supposed that it was most likely because the wizard was still suffering the loss of his dear friend. Legolas had seen Alatar’s state after their battle and he doubted that the disgrace Istar had survived the combat. However, something else soon dawned upon the Prince of Mirkwood, something that struck cold fear into his heart.

"Where is she?" Legolas demanded for he saw no presence of Melia in herself or her belonging throughout the cave.

Pallando drew in a long breath and Legolas felt his heart pounding because he knew that wizard’s answer before the man spoke.

"She is gone," he answered softly, feeling for the elf and the sorrow that would soon envelope him.

"Gone," Legolas said mutely.

"She said you would understand," Pallando answered and could tell by the fading sparkle in his eyes, that Legolas did not understand at all. Not one bit. "She helped me bring you here and then she departed after she was certain you would recover. She said that she was returning to Angmar."

Legolas swallowed thickly, forcing down the bubble of frustration and anguish that was rising up his throat like bile. His mind screamed in betrayal and fury as her departure. He could not believe after all they had endured together, she still could not trust him and could leave him so easily, without so much as a word of farewell. Once again, he was forced to wonder how much of this had been planned before her departure. After all, she had refused to give him an answer to his proposal, using the quest for her mother as an excuse to deny him. Had she never planned on staying with him? Had everything she had said a lie? To ensure that he remained and helped her find Ninuie? Legolas refused to believe that Melia could be so calculated. He swore by his life that she had meant everything she said to him and yet, she was still gone. How was he supposed to believe anything else?

"Are you alright?" Pallando asked quietly, aware that he was anything but that. Nevertheless, the wizard felt compelled to inquire.

"Yes," Legolas spoke not quite his own. Considering that his soul was weeping inside him, Legolas acquitted himself rather well, showing little sign of grief or his anger at her actions as he stared at Pallando.

The pain that was coursing through him was beyond belief and he knew he should have expected this on some level but hope had blinded him from the reality of the situation. What had taken place with her mother was further proof of why they should be apart, the unbridgeable differences between mortal and elf. Knowing this, did not make it any easier to bear and the emotion that suffused him more than astonishment at her abandonment of him, was anger. He was angry that she would arbitrarily make this decision for them, yet again. Had he not learnt how accustomed she was to running after what had happened between them at Thranduil’s court?

"She wished you well," Pallando offered, knowing that what words he offered would be cold comfort to the prince who was trying so hard to keep his emotions contained even though it was obvious that he was hurt badly by his lady’s actions. "She said you fought bravely and that she would always love you but you know the reasons why she had to depart."

Legolas did not speak. He lay down on his bedding and rolled away from the wizard. His eyes were glistening despite his best efforts to conceal his sorrow and he wished to be spared the indignity of having all his emotions exposed to Pallando. With his back to the man, Legolas was grateful when the Istar did not try and console him with words and left him alone to his silent tears.

************

Despite the emotional pain he suffered at Melia’s abrupt departure, Legolas recovered quickly and far sooner than Pallando gave the elven prince credit, they were ready to depart the Grey Mountains. Legolas had invited Pallando to return to the Woodland Realm with him and as the wizard had no present destination in mind for himself, the suggestion did not disagree with him. Pallando decided it would not be so terrible to visit with Thranduil again and a part of him felt protective towards the Prince who had saved Middle earth from an unimaginable peril by destroying the river women Alatar had twisted so irrevocably.

For one who had fought so bravely against such terrible odds, Pallando thought it was terribly unfair that Legolas would be rewarded by the loss of his love. While Pallando understood the reasons for Melia’s departure, he did not condone it, not when it was bringing them both such heartache, he was certain. He was sure that much of her desire to leave had to do with the terrible ordeal of being the one to give the order for her mother’s death. Even if Ninuie had asked for her life to end, it was no easy thing for any child to see dead the parent she had spent so much time attempting to find.

Once they had began the journey towards Mirkwood, Legolas spoke nothing of Melia and seemed to have purged all memory of her from his mind. Of course, Pallando knew that this discard was only surface deep and no doubt, in his heart, the lady was never far away. However, he respected Legolas’ wishes and made no mention of the Ranger, knowing that such talk would only bring Legolas pain. Whatever route Melia had taken home to Angmar, there was no sign of her departure when Legolas and Pallando begin their own journey to Mirkwood. No doubt the lady had chosen to avoid the goblins they had encountered earlier by finding the vein of the Anduin and crossing it into the western shore.

The two travelling companions however, made for the Woodland Realm and thanks to Pallando’s ability to generate light in the darkness, they were free from the plague of goblins until the entered the great wood of Eryn Lasgalen or Mirkwood as it was known to most. The Wood of the Greenleaves had changed a great deal since Pallando’s last visit. In those days, the woods were a perilous place and the Silvan elves who held dominion fought to keep the passage through it open despite the evil things that Sauron had let loose into the forests from his fortress at Dol Guldur.

Of course much had changed since the War of the Ring and when Pallando entered the Woodland Realm once more and found himself soon in the court of Thranduil, he saw just how much the world had progressed during his travels in the east. The southern woods once a place of darkness had become the home of the elves of South Lorien and the space between were inhabited by the Northmen who aided Thranduil in the past to defend against Sauron’s minions at Dol Guldur. The fortress itself was completely gutted and for the first time in so long, Mirkwood belonged to the true people Middle earth.

Thranduil was happy to see the return of his old friend and even happier to see his son. They spoke nothing of Melia but it was plain to see that Thranduil knew about her by the tension in the air. This mood did not dissipate even after the king ordered a feast and celebration for the return of the Prince and to entertain his guests. At the event, Legolas played the part of the gracious prince, happy to be home again but the court was whispering about the absence of Melia and those who knew the Prince could see the sadness in his eyes of which he would not speak to anyone. Even Thranduil’s expression seemed strained because he knew his child was in pain and could do little to ease it.

Legolas tried hard not to show the court his somber mood but he could not help it. The Prince of Mirkwood displayed an impassive front to all that saw him because a prince always kept his emotions well hidden, Thranduil had taught him that. On this occasion, it seemed to serve because it kept anyone from asking him any uncomfortable questions. He could see it burning in their eyes every time they gazed upon him, the intense curiosity to know what it was that had transpired between Melia and he. Especially after her last appearance at court had seen her wearing his mother’s chain, a gesture that could only mean intimacy between them.

Since she had left him, Legolas had done nothing but rationalize her behavior, trying to see their relationship from her point of view. He knew she feared he would leave her, the way her mother had abandoned her father. Surely, he had proven himself to her by his love and his actions, that he would never do such a thing? How much more did he have to earn her trust? What was to say that she would not leave him? He bound himself to her already and he knew that until he passed from the land of the living, he would always yearn for her. The ache in his heart was more than he could stand; it gnawed away at him constantly, even when he tried to put her behind him.

For better or for worse, Melia was apart of him now and that was all there was to it.

The discussion that Legolas had returned home to have with Thranduil took place the next morning within the king’s throne room. It was Thranduil’s habit to rise early and look over his agenda of the day within the silence of his throne room, for that was one place that no one would dare enter without invitation or a very good reason. With everything that had occurred in the Grey Mountains, this was not an audience that Legolas’ was looking forward to, unfortunately he had no choice in the matter. His father deserved an explanation and he deserved it face to face with his son.

"Father," Legolas announced himself.

"You are up early," the king rose his eyes to his son, lowering the scrolls in his hand.

"What I must say to you cannot wait," the prince replied.

Thranduil stiffened and his jaw set. "Is this about the Ranger?"

Legolas felt himself infuse with anger at the mention of Melia’s name, especially when it came from Thranduil. His father had been part of the reason why she had gone. If Thranduil had been more encouraging of their feelings for one another, it might not have led her to the decision she had made to abandon Legolas. She was already filled with enough doubt when they came to Mirkwood to have Thranduil’s deepen her anxieties. Rather than led anger induce him into saying something he would regret, Legolas calmed his temper because he had not come here to argue with his father.

"No," he said with equal rigidity. "It is not. She has returned to Angmar. What there was between us is done."

Thranduil absorbed this but he was not about to let the matter go just yet, not when Legolas had finally deign to speak of it to him.

"You have bound yourself to her haven’t you?" It was not a question but rather a statement of fact.

"That is none of your concern," Legolas replied tautly because it was obvious enough that he had. His father had the same senses he had and would know it.

"You bound yourself to a human who has left you," Thranduil shook his head in disapproval. "I warned you that this was ill advised. I know she loved you but she was far more sensible than you in her conduct. I know it will take a long time but you must try to forget her."

"Were you able to forget my mother?" Legolas accused.

"That is different," Thranduil returned shortly. "I have some chance of being reunited with your mother. When your Melia is dead, she will go beyond you and the only way that you will ever see her again is to die."

"Well that is not going to happen is it?" Legolas tone became viciously, what restraint he had been maintaining during this audience with his father was now lost completely. "She left me. Without a single word, like a thief in the night she left me! I did not even warrant a moment of her time to say farewell. She crept past me like a coward, not daring to even say it to my face!"

The hurt in his eyes made Thranduil’s heart ache in his breast and the king wished that his son was a child again, when the pain the boy sustained was no more than a skinned knee and within Thranduil’s power to take away by soothing words. This kind of anguish was different because the king could do nothing to ease his son’s sorrow and he wanted to, badly. Thranduil’s did not begrudge Melia her decision, aware that it was most likely the sensible thing to do but it had come to late and now his son was bound to love her forever and for an elf, that was a terribly long time.

"She loved you son," Thranduil finally spoke. "Whatever she did, she did because she loved you. Perhaps she wanted to spare you this pain or perhaps she believed a little cruelty now would be kinder for you in the future. I do not know for certain her reasoning but I know she loved you."

"Then how could she leave me!" Legolas exploded. "I did not care that she would die someday. I was prepared to face the emptiness that followed her passing. What more I did I have to prove to her that my love would not wane with time?"

"Because the Edain do not love as we do," Thranduil rose from his chair and went to his son who was trying not to remain composed but failing. He placed his hands upon Legolas’ shoulders and bade the prince to meet his eyes when he resumed speaking. "For them, life is short and to bind themselves to one person for all time when it is so easy for them to die is folly. They fall in and out of love at a whim. I have no doubt that your Melia loves you but she can forget in time. You will not. There is nothing I can say to advise you in this except to say that you must try and do the same, hard as it is. Time does heal all wounds."

"I cannot forget her," Legolas confessed, "I carry her in my heart wherever I go but I will try to go on without her."

"That is all that can anyone can do," Thranduil replied with approval though he knew that gave Legolas little solace.

Legolas sucked in deep and strained breath that managed to quell the churning emotions inside of him. He had almost broken down in front of his father and he was too old and too much the warrior to endure that exposure. Regaining his composure, he did not look up at Thranduil when he spoke again.

"Father I am leaving,"

"I know," Thranduil answered.

Legolas looked up in surprise at his father’s revelation. "How did you….?"

"I know you my son," Thranduil replied, his eyes filling with emotion in a way a king was not supposed to show anyone. "You may be three thousand years old but I was there when you first entered this world. It was I who watched your first steps and heard your first word, I may be king and I may not have been there as much as I should have during your childhood but I was there. I know that your trips away from here is not because you have business elsewhere is because your heart is not here. You will always love our home but you have no desire to be king of this realm. Perhaps that is my fault, I ruled too long and should have relinquished the crown to journey to Undying Lands. It was not my wish to deny you what was rightfully yours."

"No," Legolas quickly countered, not wishing his father to think that for an instant. "For me, you will always be the King of Mirkwood. I cannot see myself as king because I cannot imagine Eryn Lasgalen without you. I do not want your throne nor do I want you to leave in order to acquire it. I want to find my own destiny father, just as you when you came here so long ago. My fortunes lie elsewhere but my love for the Wood of Greenleaves will always be, just as my love for you."

Father and son captured each other in a heartfelt embrace. For once, Legolas found that it was good to not be the one who was oldest, who should know everything and simply succumb to being the one who was in pain and resting in the comfort of the father who cherished him above all else. He wanted to weep, to tell his father that being without Melia was cleaving his heart in two with such pain he could not stand it. However, he knew what his father would say because in that one matter, they could not reconcile. Thus he remained content for a moment to feel Thranduil holding him as if he were a little boy again, stung by some little hurt, being soothed by the father who had tried to hard to make up for the absence of his mother.

"Where will you go?" Thranduil asked when they had parted and faced each other again.

"I am going to Ithilien. There is a great forest there. It survived through some miracle despite being in such close proximity to Mordor. Faramir, Lord of Ithilien has washed his hands of the southern lands and King Elessar believes that if an elven presence is established in the South Wood then it will drive what remaining orcs and evil remaining from Sauron’s reign away for good. I would like to try and establish a colony in South Ithilien," Legolas explained.

"You have thought this out well," Thranduil commented.

"I have," Legolas smiled faintly, pleased that his father had approved his decision. "I have also been conversing with Elladin and Elrohir of Imladris. Since the departure of Lord Elrond, the elves that chose to remain in Middle earth do not feel that it is the same without him. I believe that if I were to offer them a place in South Ithilien, a good number of them may join me."

"Then you should take Nunaur with you as well," Thranduil offered.

"Nunaur?" Legolas exclaimed with some measure of surprise, "why?"

"I think he grows restless with his role here," Thranduil explained with a sigh. "Since the new lands have opened up southwards, he is displaying more and more a desire to see the world beyond Mirkwood. I think sending him with you will make it easier for him to leave since he believes himself bound to serve me."

"Are you sure?" Legolas looked at his father. He would be pleased to take his father’s captain to South Ithilien. With the challenges there, an experienced elven captain was always an asset and Legolas was further ingratiated by his father’s acceptance of his choice. "I know that he is dear to you."

Thranduil’s expression became thoughtful and he gazed at his son in unbidden affection, "sometimes when you love something, it is necessary to let it go."

"Thank you father," Legolas said softly, knowing it was not Nunaur that he was speaking of.

"You are welcome my son," Thranduil smiled, "and you will always be welcome here."

********

Legolas remained in the Woodland Realm for another two weeks, using that time to prepared for his return to Minas Tirith where Aragorn’s efforts on his behalf would be awaiting him. His father had ensured that he had everything he needed to set up his own kingdom in South Ithilien despite Legolas’ protestations that he did not need the assistance. Still, Thranduil was ever the protective father, desiring to see to it that his son was well provided for the undertaking that he was about to take on by establishing a kingdom of his own. In the end, Legolas decided it was best not to argue with the king for Thranduil could be extremely obstinate about such matters when the mood took him.

Thank Eru he was nowhere that stubborn, Legolas thought to himself.

It also appeared that Thranduil was correct about Nunaur wishing to leave the boundaries of Mirkwood to explore the outside world. The captain of the Woodland Realm was initially reluctant to sever his links to Eryn Lasgalen but it did not take much convincing. Eventually, Nunaur even persuaded a few of his comrades to join him and thus when Legolas finally departed from the Woodland Realm, it was with a sizeable group of elves. He made his farewells to Thranduil who discarded any effort to remain kingly in the face of his loss and the king was most vocal in expressing his sadness as seeing his son go but said nothing to burden Legolas’ heart. Pallando had opted to remain in Mirkwood for a time and of this Legolas was pleased because it appeared that he and Thranduil were good company for each other and in light of recent events, the companionship they provided each other would be good for both men.

Once again, Legolas set out from the Woodland Realm, this time making the journey by land instead of boat, owing to the horses and supplies that they had brought with them for their new colony. Most could be bought and acquired on the way but the rest could not be replaced or found anywhere else from Mirkwood and Legolas wanted his new kingdom to start on the right foot. For most of the days during their journey from Mirkwood to Minas Tirith, Legolas immersed himself in the welfare of his people and his plans once reaching South Ithilien. He forced himself not to think of Melia because it would only cause him pain and she had made the decision for both of them. Despite the anguish to his heart, he would abide by her choice because his father was right, sometimes if one loved something, they had to let it go. If Melia could not give herself to him then Legolas would not waste his time trying to convince her otherwise. He would let her go because he loved her and because that was what she wanted. No matter how much it hurt him. However, he had known what danger he had placed his heart when he gave his affections to a mortal and now he would have to suffer the price of the choice.

There were still moments however, when he would look to the west, towards Angmar and wonder if she thought of him because he was never free of her.

**********

 Upon arriving at Minas Tirith, Aragorn and Arwen were there to greet the Prince of Mirkwood and the elves that had journeyed with him from the Woodland Realm. As always, his old friends were happy to see him and were glad that his audience with his father had ended so well, especially when they learnt that Thranduil had offered Legolas his blessing. Although Legolas was disappointed to hear that Gimli had returned home to the Glittering Caves shortly before his return to the White City, Legolas was gratified to learn that the dwarf would not be away from his life for too long. The work had yet to be completed on Aragorn’s gates around the city and Gimli was too much the craftsman to let the work continue too long without his supervision.

Prior to his departure, Legolas had asked of Aragorn to send a message to Elladan and Elrohir at Imladris, to tell them of what he intended to do in South Ithilien and to invite them and as many of their people who desired it to join him. They had replied most enthusiastically to his offer and Aragorn was happy to show Legolas the return message from Imladris, indicating that they would meet Legolas in South Ithilien as soon as possible, if not on route. With this final matter finally taken care of, there was nothing left to stand in Legolas’ way and he knew that he would not remain long in Minas Tirith before he would be required to set out again. Still, for the moment however, he intended to take some time with his dearest friends in all the world for who knew when their paths might cross again.

Once his people were settled for the evening, Legolas, Arwen and Aragorn finally gained the opportunity to talk in a more informal setting. Joining the king and queen in their private suite of rooms, the elf was happy to be with his friends again, although he wondered why neither had mentioned Melia or made any inquiry about the Ranger. Legolas wondered if Aragorn had learnt that Melia had returned to Angmar and ascertained something had precipitated that return after their urgent departure from Minas Tirith what seemed almost a lifetime ago now. Legolas explained as best he could the course of their journey after leaving the White City, omitting the more personal details involving himself and Melia.

"Are you certain they are all dead?" Arwen asked after Legolas had finished his tale and they stared across each other at the table where they dined.

"I am certain they are," Legolas confessed. "Though I must confess I was no condition to see for myself after the battle was done. However, Pallando said that the fire was raging within the hatchery and nothing could survive the heat. I trust his judgement."

"Well," Aragorn said lowering his cup of wine after taking a sip. "I am glad that you fought so bravely. It would not have bode well for Middle earth if those creatures were allowed to be unleashed upon as all."

"We did what was necessary," Legolas replied shortly, not wishing to dwell too much on the subject because inevitably, he would find himself thinking of Melia again.

"You did what you always do," Arwen smiled, reaching across the table to clasp his hand. "You fought with courage, with no thought to yourself."

"You give me too much credit," the elf said graciously. "Although I sense that there is something on your minds that neither of you have deign to bring to my attention. I will spare you the trouble of finding some way to bring up the subject with me. What is it that you wish to say."

Arwen and Aragorn exchanged a brief glance across the table before Arwen nodded at the king who sucked in his breath as if he were being forced into some unpleasant duty. "We have not asked you about Melia because we saw her."

"You saw her?" Legolas’ eyes flew open. "When?"

"She came here for her horse Lomelindi," Arwen explained, her eyes full of sympathy. "Melia told us what took place between you. Legolas, I am so sorry."

Legolas swallowed hard, having no wish for them to know and his gaze fell on the space before them. His jaw clenched as he tried to compose himself to keep from showing just how much it still hurt him. If it were anyone else but Arwen and Aragorn before him, he might have succeeded in concealing his sorrow. Unfortunately, both the King and Queen of Gondor had known him far too long and so his pain remained exposed before them, much to his chagrin.

"It was her game," he spoke after a moment. "I knew what I risked when I chose to play."

"I do not believe it was a game to her," Arwen tried to speak in Melia’s defense but it was difficult to do so when Legolas’ eyes were filled with such pain. Since his arrival, he had worn that tough mask over his emotions, hiding his anguish from all that saw him. However, now in the privacy of this room before his dear friends, that mask had lowered and they saw the prince’s true feelings behind his impassive demeanor. "She loves you Legolas but her heart is still wounded from what happened in the mountain."

Aragorn had remained silent, allowing Arwen to speak about Melia to Legolas because the king did not feel comfortable about discussing so private a subject with the elf, even with the best intentions. In truth, he understood Legolas’ pain and his anger. He did not think well of Melia for simply leaving as she had. If it were Arwen who had done that to him, it was quite possible that Aragorn would behave with less restraint then Legolas was comporting himself. The elf had wisely chosen to let Melia make her own choice, even though it wounded him greatly.

"Legolas," Aragorn found his voice at last. "You do not have to speak of this if you do not wish it. We just want you to know that we are here if you need us. You are dear to us both and should you decide not to confide in us, then we will understand that too."

"Estel…" Arwen started to say but Aragorn cut her off abruptly.

"I have spoken Undomiel," Aragorn said firmly in that voice of his that tolerated no argument, even from her. "This is a private matter between Legolas and Melia. We will say nothing more."

Legolas cast Aragorn a grateful look even though the king was being treated to a frown from his wife. Legolas had the distinct impression that Aragorn would be hearing from his wife about the matter before the night’s end. However, for the present, Legolas was glad that it was at his discretion whether or not the subject should be discussed. Not wishing to be spur Arwen’s desire to help completely, Legolas found himself turning to the Evenstar.

"I know you wish to help but this matter can only be resolved by Melia and myself. She had made her choice clear and though it pains me more than I can say, I have to abide by her decision. I cannot hold her to me if she does not wish it."

"But she loves you!" Arwen cried out in frustration, hating to think that it should end so tragically between two people who were so obviously meant to be together. It pained her that Legolas should give his heart to someone after so many years alone, only to have it broken in this way. She had seen Melia’s eyes when the Ranger had told her what transpired between herself and the Prince of Mirkwood. Arwen was certain that what difficulties between them would be resolved if only they met each other face to face.

"Undomiel!" Aragorn rolled his eyes in exasperation at his wife stubbornness in this matter. "I am certain Legolas knows that."

"Evenstar," Legolas declared, "I know you mean well and you are right, I do not doubt that Melia feels something for me but she does not trust me and until that can be overcome, nothing between us is possible."

Arwen frowned, realizing that Legolas was right. Trust was vital in any relationship, even one without the complications that existed in Legolas’s and Melia’s. Arwen trusted Aragorn with her heart and soul to never betray her. She could look into his eyes and know without doubt or hesitation that he loved her and would never do anything to break her heart. It was quite a thing to have that assurance because it made everything else easy. Arwen was convinced Melia loved Legolas that much but she could not give herself to him because of her doubt. However, the Queen of Gondor was certain that Legolas was wrong about being unable to trust him.

Arwen believed that it was herself that Melia did not trust.

*************

Legolas did not remain long in Minas Tirith and shortly after receiving blessings from Aragorn as well as a few documents from the king making his claim to south Ithilien a legitimate enterprise, the elves departed from Gondor. Journeying down the Anduin in ship large enough to carry horses and all their supplies, Legolas and his elves soon arrived at Pelargir. For the elf, returning to Pelargir brought back the memories of the past as he recalled that it was at Pelargir that Aragorn truly defined himself as King of Gondor. With the dead of Dunharrow at his side, Aragorn had defeated the Corsairs, Sauron’s minions who had brought Gondor to the brink of collapse. At Pelennor Fields, the last battle had been fought and Legolas remembered standing at Aragorn’s side in that conflict seeing the forces rallied against them and perfectly willing to die to win the day.

The world had changed that day in more ways then they knew. They had changed with it too and as Legolas and his band of elves rode through the streets of Pelargir, now a bustling sea port with the frantic excitement of people of all races coming and going about their business, he saw how much it had changed. It did not take the group of elves long to reach the woods of South Ithilien and it was indeed as magnificent as it was claimed to be. How the wood had managed to remain unspoiled by Sauron and his minions was truly and miracle and as Legolas and his elves found themselves the ideal spot in which to build their new home. Situated by the banks of the River Poros, the new elven city of Eden Ardhon meaning ‘New World’ in the Sindarian tongue, would be built in the spirit of the elven kingdoms of past ages past..

Of course claiming the land and making it theirs was nowhere as easy as it appeared. Even with the arrival of Arwen’s brothers, Elladan and Elrohir who brought with them, elven smiths who were master craftsmen in the number who had departed Imladris, they were still plagued with difficulties of weather, land and of course the inevitable attack by Orcs. Still Legolas enjoyed the challenge of taming a new land and his attention was busy enough during the day that there was little time to notice the emptiness in his heart where Melia should have been. At night however, he was not so fortunate as to be able to forget and in those silent moments in the night, when he peered at the stars unable to sleep, he dreamed of her.

***********

"You elves are a peculiar lot," Gimli remarked as he observed closely the construction of Legolas’ dwelling, the prince did not wish to call it a palace for it seemed to vulgar for a place he wanted to call his home. Unfortunately, he was the only one who seemed to think that way since everyone else considered it a palace, since nothing else would do for the elven Lord of Ithilien.

"How so?" Legolas replied as he and Nunaur studied the parchment spread across the table before them. Gimli had arrived only a few days ago, having claiming that an elf was unable to build anything that would stand the test of time unless there was a dwarf to help him. It had taken a bit of convincing, before Legolas was able to convince all the elves in the colony that the dwarf had not meant any offense and that Gimli was just being Gimli.

"All this trouble to built around the tree when you could build inside of it," Gimli retorted, staring at the huge trees who trunk was so thick that if anyone chose to carve out its innards, it would be enough space to house the entire colony. Instead the elf had chose to build his home among the loft branches of the tree, an enterprise that required steps that coiled around its thick trunk like a serpent.

"You dwarfs would destroy anything," Legolas grumbled, wondering how many times he had to have this discussion before the dwarf understood that an elf would consider it an act of murder to butcher a tree that had lived as long as the one he had chosen to support his home.

"Its just a tree," Gimli teased and saw Nunaur smiling because the captain knew that the dwarf often amused himself by baiting the elven lord.

"Like you are just a dwarf but you do not see us trying to build around you." Legolas drawled, his eyes still fixed on the plans before him. "Probably because the noise would drive us to distraction."

Gimli gave Legolas a look just as Nunaur started to chuckle.

"You can tell the smiths that this is fine," Legolas straightened up as Nunaur rolled up the parchment and made a hasty retreat before the dwarf and his lord launched into one of their infamous ideological ‘discussions. Usually this ended with either axe or arrow being drawn.

Gimli was glad to see Legolas was showing some measure of contentment. Even though there was occasionally a glimmer of sadness in his eyes, for most part, Legolas seemed recovered from his heartbreak. Part of the reason why he had come to South Ithilien was at the request of Arwen who was worried about her old friend and though Aragorn did not say it out loud, Gimli could tell the king too was concerned about the elf’s welfare. Fortunately, Legolas seemed to have moved on with his life, immersing himself in the business of building himself a new home in the Southern Wood. Judging by all the building he saw around him, it would not be long before Eden Ardhon would be as enchanting to behold as Lothlorien or even Imladris.

"See what you have done," Legolas turned to Gimli. "You have frightened away the captain of my guard."

"Elves scare easily," Gimli said smugly.

"Why are you here?" Legolas retorted. "I have enough difficulty in establishing this colony, I do not need further vexation by your company."

"Well I had to see the Elven Lord of Ithilien," the dwarf replied.

"You have ridden all this way to call me that, have you not?" Legolas stared at him through narrowed eyes.

"Yes," Gimli grinned remembering how much Legolas had relished addressing him as Lord of the Glittering Caves and inspiring his ire to no end with that exalted title. It was good to know that he was able to do the same.

Suddenly, the expression on the elf’s face changed from annoyance to that of astonishment. For an instant, the color drained from his face and his jaw set hard as if he were going into battle. Gimli looked over his shoulder and saw what he was staring at with such surprise. In some ways he was, Gimli thought as he saw the lady walking across the grass towards them both. She was clad in the dress she had worn when they had celebrated the elven new year at Minas Tirith, her dark hair worn loose over her shoulder. In her hand she held a bundle of clothes and a crossbow. 

When she stopped walking, Melia and Legolas stood before each other, the space between them felt like a great chasm that was kept them beyond each other’s reach. Neither said a word as they basked in the sight of each other even though much needed to be said between them. Legolas looked like a statue carved out of marble as he stared at Melia, his expression unfathomable. Melia’s expression was equally cryptic. Time seemed to stretch into an eternity as neither said anything and the waiting drove Gimli mad with impatience. Finally, the dwarf could endure no more.

"Well if you’re both just going to stand there, I’m going to leave! But before I go, let me be the first to say that its about time you both grew up and just get on with things!"

With that the dwarf made a less than discreet exit, hoping that his words would spur either one of them into resolving the matter between them. Legolas threw Gimli a little glance at the dwarf left but he made no effort to speak and after a moment, his eyes returned to Melia, boring into her mercilessly. Were his gaze a dagger, he would have drawn blood by now.

Melia dropped the belongings in her hand at his feet before raising her eyes to meet his, waiting for him to say something. He did nothing of the kind and continued to stare.

"I am sorry," Melia whispered softly when she realized that he was going to say nothing unless she did so first. Melia supposed that it was fair considering her actions at their last encounter. She behaved badly and she knew it. Though he remained as impassive as stone at this instance, she knew what she had done had hurt him badly and there was no adequate apology that would ever make up for it. However she had to try. Melia had to try because she loved him and this time, it was her turn to fight to make Legolas hers again.

"It was cowardly and unfair to leave you as I did. I was wrong," she continued to speak, never believing an apology could be so hard to make. "I used my mother’s death as an excuse for why we could not be together when in truth, I was afraid. I was afraid that I would fail you. You said you loved me and that you would never hurt me. I believed you all too well but I did not know if I could be trusted to feel the same for you when the years began to age my body. I did not wish to see my love for you become hatred when you were spared all the things I would endure when I grow old."

Tears were running down her cheeks and she wiped them away, looking for some assurance in his eyes that her plea had not been made in vain. He offered her no such comfort all Melia could think to do was to keep speaking. "I went home to Angmar thinking I could forget you but my heart felt as if it were torn apart beneath my breast. I could not stop thinking about you and I yearned to hear your voice, to feel your touch for every second of every day that we were apart. I am sorry I made you suffer Prince, I am sorry I made a choice for both of us without even consulting you."

Legolas’ silence remained and Melia found herself weeping before him. She wished he would speak. She did not care if he even screamed at her. She just needed to hear him say something.

"Please," she begged. "Please say something."

"What would you have me say?" Legolas finally spoke, his voice low.

"Tell me you understand, tell me how you feel, anything!" She exclaimed.

"Understand what?" He demanded, the anger that he had been holding back for months finally escaping him. "Understand that you left me there, without a word of explanation! Not even to say farewell! After everything we had endured together, you could find it so easy to discard me?"

"I was confused and afraid," she stammered.

"THAT’S NO EXCUSE!" He roared. "You broke my heart when you left! Do you know that? I thought I would die when I heard you had gone! And you are here now, for what purpose? To play with my affections again? For me to give you my heart and soul only to have you toss it aside at a moment’s notice when you begin to doubt me again? I am long lived Melia but not impervious to pain!"

"I am sorry!" She wept harder. "I have no right to expect anything of you but I know that I love you and if we are bound for tragedy then it is something I swear to you we will face together. I have disappointed you Prince but no more, I promise!"

Legolas stared at her, feeling his anger give way to the effect of her tears upon his heart. He had given up hope these long months that she would ever be with him and he had not arisen a single day without wanting her in his arms, they were they had been when they journeyed to Ered Mithrin together. If it had not been for the goal he had set himself with the establishment of the colony here in South Ithilien, there was every possibility he would have died of grief. Sorrow did have that power over the heart of an elf though most did not know of it. However, he had forced himself to heed his father’s advice, to go on without her. Now she was here and she was the one begging him to trust her with his heart. How could he refuse an offer like that?

"I will hold you to that, Mia," he swallowed thickly, his heart melting before he stepped towards her and threw caution to the winds.

Their mouths met in a passionate kiss as her hands wrapped around his neck and his arms enveloped her body, pulling against his son. For a few seconds, there was nothing else in the world as they tasted each other again, tongues dueling in heat as they relished the pleasure of being with each other again. Time seemed to have frozen as they basked in each other’s scent and touch, revisiting the sensations of their passion once more. When Legolas and Melia finally parted, it was only their lips that pulled away for the Prince was not willing to let her go, not after waiting so long to feel her in his arms again.

"So Lord of Ithilien," Melia asked, happiness apparent in each word she spoke. "What now?

"Well," he returned with a teasing smile. "How about showing me the fruits of human pleasure again?"

"Not until we are wed," she declared.

"Oh so now you want to wed?" Legolas retorted. "I do not know if I want to marry you. My father warned me about mortal women you know."

"You are impossible," she pointed out.

"I am not the only one," he grinned before kissing her again and this time he knew it would be forever.

**********

With the Grey Mountains behind her, she walked towards the forest, her senses seeking out, with the accuracy of a wolf tracking a bleeding stag, the life she could sense in the wood. Above her, the moon shone its full light upon her bare body and the coldness of the air could be seen by each breath of warmth that condensed it into vapor. She felt did not feel the cold that would reduce most to shivering ruin by now. She felt nothing of the kind as she walked across the land, seeking out sustenance after her enforced hunger. Her primary concern was to feed herself even though she was consumed with another need that would not be as easy to satisfy.

Memories of fire branded her thoughts and the cries of her sisters who had all perished in the flame, accompanied her solitary journey aware from Ered Mithrin. When she had emerged from her shell, her intelligence had overridden her instinct to attack when she saw the fire. In the chaos of smoke and flame, she had chosen to leave her sisters and the battlefield, opting for survival. She had walked out of the cave and hidden herself away, hoping that the others would do the same. She had waited until the smell of smoke had died and when she returned to the birthing chamber, the enemy had already gone but the results of their handiwork had been left behind.

She did not know how to feel grief for she was not constructed to feel the gentler emotions. The dead bodies of her sisters, some who had never even emerged from their cocoons lay before her in mass of charred and blackened flesh. Even the body of the creator was among the dead and she could only stare as growing rage suffused her soul and made her understand that she was alone. The enemy’s face was in her mind and like the fire that had branded itself upon her consciousness, so had his face upon her memory. What had the River Daughter called him with the bow and arrows carrying fiery death?

Legolas.

Prince.

She would find him. Someday, she would find him.

And then she would destroy him.

Epilogue:
Eternity

In the year 1541 in the Fourth Age of the Sun, the last gray ship sailed from Ithilien, journeying first down the River Pouros, before entering the great vein of the Anduin. It was the last gray ship to depart Middle earth and it carried with it the remaining members of the Fellowship that still survived in this realm. It was a sad time for Middle earth for it was not long since the passing of the great King Elessar. Much of the land was still in mourning for the leader who had, for 120 years of his reign, maintained peace and prosperity through the Reunified Kingdom and ensured that the rest of Middle earth was similarly blessed. Although his son Eldarion was proving to be a good and wise king in the stead of his father, his reign was still too new for his people to love him as much.

Arwen had returned to what remained of Lothlorien, choosing to visit Cerin Armoth, the place where she and Aragorn had been betrothed. Despite Legolas’ entreaties that she should remain with her children, the Queen of Gondor was adamant. Legolas, just by looking at her, knew her reasons for going to that particular place and it was with sadness that he bade her goodbye when he left the White City, for he knew that she would die within the year if not sooner. While she may have chosen a mortal life, she was still an elf and without Aragorn, Legolas knew that she would not be long for this world.

Eden Ardhon was thriving when he left it and Legolas was certain that those behind him would follow soon enough in due course, for himself, he had ruled there for more than a hundred years and he had accomplished all that he had set out to do. His father had gone into the Undying Lands some years before and now the Woodland Realm and Thranduil’s court was fading into memory. Legolas had no doubt that Eden Ardhon would do the same in time. The valley where Imladris used to be had become lost to men and only the few remaining elves left in Middle earth could find where it once was. Lothlorien had disappeared completely into the wood and now there was no trace of the great lady who once lived there.

Arwen had said the world changes and she was right, Legolas thought sadly.

His world had changed and when Aragorn had passed into the world, he realised how much. It was the final cut to the many wounds his heart had incurred in the last century and when he saw the light fade from the eyes of his oldest and possibly best friend, he knew that the time had come to answer the call of the sea. It was not to say that he did not have ties left behind in Middle earth, in truth he had many. The children borne of the Fellowship were dear to his heart and there were his own children, a son, Thalionhis, who now sat upon the throne at Eden Ardhon and a daughter, Annúnmelien who was wife to Eldarion and Queen of the Reunified Kingdom. He would miss them but he knew that their lives would be happy and they would go on without him.

Just as he had gone on without their mother after she had died.

Although it had been almost fifty years since Melia had passed away, for Legolas the pain was as fresh as if it were but yesterday that he stood by the plot of earth where her body had been buried two days after her death on Midsummer’s Eve. It had never truly faded away and he had awoken every morning since that terrible day to find his heart breaking a new when he realised that she was no longer at his side. Finally, he understood the pain that Thranduil had warned him of and Legolas could not deny that it was far worse than anything he had imagined was. When he remembered what they had shared together, the perils that came along the way, the adventures and even the quiet moments, he wanted to die with her. An elf could die of grief and there was more times than he would like to admit when he almost lost the will to continue.

Yet he would have changed nothing if he had the choice to live over again.

They had loved each other for as long as they were together and though it saddened him to see her grow old because her age was a reminder of his impending loss, to him she was still the beautiful Ranger he had met in the Blue Mountains. Nothing would ever change that vision of her in his eyes. There were occasions that he caught the longing in hers as she looked at him, the secret pain that he would endure long after she was gone and that he would be alone forever. However, that sorrow never tainted their love and they lived a life full of surprises but they were never apart.

With Aragorn’s passing, there was nothing left to hold him in Middle earth and since Gimli still lived, Legolas did not wish to see another friend lost to the ravages of mortality thus he invited the dwarf to join him on the grey ship to the West. Gimli, the curmudgeon that he was would not admit that part of his reason to accompany Legolas to an isle full of elves was to see Galadriel again but Legolas was not complaining, it was good to have the dwarf at his side for one last journey. For as long as Aragorn had ruled over Middle earth, Gimli had been Legolas’ constant companion and they had seen each other through great many things, the loss of Melia and eventually the loss of Gimli’s own wife, Lorin.

Now it was time for them to pass on into legend for the years had caught up with both of them. The time had come for the Fellowship to pass into legend and as its final two members sailed into the horizon, going with them was the Age of Heroes.

************

 The isle of Valinor was nothing like the descriptions of it that either Legolas or Gimli had heard. It was more. As they crossed the Enchanted Sea, they could see the tall cliffs and the white sands that made up the coastline of the legendary home of the Valar. From the distance, they could see the home of Manwe and Varda perched atop the peak of Mount Taniquetil, the tallest mountain in all the world. The resplendent beauty of the isle filled their hearts with wonder and took away some of the pain that came with leaving behind everything they knew. The realization that they would soon be reunited with old friends began to loom closer in their minds and suddenly their hearts did not seem so heavy any more.

When the grey ship finally sailed into the Bay of Endamar, past the isle of Tol Eressea, Legolas and Gimli saw the friends that were waiting for them to arrive. He caught sight first of his father and let out a little breath of surprise to note that the woman standing by Thranduil’s side was his mother. Legolas had not seen her in so long that he almost did not remember her. She was smiling at him from the shore, with waves of long golden hair around her shoulders. Also there was Mithrandir and the hobbits, Sam and Frodo. Seeing them made Legolas’ heart heavy for the members of the Fellowship who would not be joining them, most notably Aragorn but also Merry and Pippin and finally even Boromir, who was a good and honorable friend, despite the One Ring’s seduction.

There were happy reunions when the ship finally came to port and Legolas was rather overwhelmed by all the familiar faces. Gimli seemed to take all things in stride and merely contented himself with greeting the members of the Fellowship he knew, leaving Legolas to be reunited with his happy parents. Legolas had been a child when his mother had departed Middle earth and it was with some hesitation that he regarded her but when she smiled at him, mirroring himself in her features, he understood completely why his father had always been so protective of him. He was his mother’s son and the best part of her that Thranduil still had in his keeping when she had left him for Valinor.

When he finally turned joined the Fellowship, after hearty assurances to his parents that he would be with them soon enough, Legolas could not deny how good it was to see his old friends again. He wished, more than anything, that Aragorn was standing with them but contented himself with what he had instead of what he did not. Frodo seemed a good deal more at peace then he had when they had last seen him and Sam was the same, always at his side, ready to protect him no matter what, even in a place where everyone was beyond harm. Gandalf was the same as well, wise and all knowing. He looked at Legolas with an expression that was almost bemusement, as if he had knowledge of some secret joke to which the prince was not aware.

"It’s so good to see you again Master Legolas and Master Gimli," Sam smiled happily as the old friends conferred. "It will be like old times again."

"But with not as much peril," Gandalf added as he gazed upon Legolas and Gimli. "How have you both been?"

"We grew old," Gimli retorted with usual aplomb.

"Well you look it," Frodo joked and then glanced at Legolas, "he doesn’t though."

"Damn elves," Gimli snorted.

"Remind me again why I invited you to come with me," Legolas teased, giving the dwarf a little look.

"To keep you from getting lost," Gimli retorted. "You know you could not find your way out of a room without me."

"I forgot," Legolas nodded, rolling his eyes.

"Well it looks like some things never change," Gandalf chuckled softly.

Legolas was about to join his laughter when suddenly, a feeling of familiarity struck him and it was nothing to do with the friends present. For an instant, his heart stopped beating because he recognized when he had last felt this way and he was struck with the impossible thought that somehow the gods had favored him with a wondrous gift. For an eternity of time, he dared not breathe until he heard her voice behind him.

"So it this the famous Legolas you have been telling me about Frodo?"

Legolas turned around and found himself staring at a young woman who was not much older in appearance than he. She was clearly elven with long dark hair, soft brown eyes and luminescent skin that could only come of being Eldar born. She reminded him a little of the Evenstar though she was not the ravishing beauty that Arwen had been. Still there was a loveliness in her features that was hers alone and she stood before him, her eyes studying him with great interest.

"Yes," Frodo let out a heavy sigh as if he were a little embarrassed by her sudden interruption of this reunion between old friends. "Legolas, Gimli, this is Ariel."

"Ariel?" Gimli asked. "Named after Arien no doubt."

Legolas stared at her for a moment, saying nothing because he was still too lost in astonishment to form the words. Outwardly, she bore little resemblance to anyone he had met before but when she stared at him, with a little smile of amusement at his scrutiny, Legolas swore that he knew her. He had no idea how it was possible, how an elven woman born in the Undying Lands could share the same soul as the wife he buried in Middle earth years before but there was no denying it. His heart recognized its soul mate and leapt at the excitement at being near it again.

"Ariel was born here," Gandalf explained, with a hint of knowing in his voice. "By elvish standards she is but a child. She is only fifty years old, born on Midsummer’s Eve."

"Midsummer’s Eve?" Gimli’s eyes widened, recognizing the significance of that date as well as Legolas.

"Yes, Midsummer’s Eve and I am standing right here you now," the woman said impatiently.

Legolas swallowed thickly, his spirit bursting with life for the first time in fifty years. He did not know how it could be but somehow, possibly through the grace of Iluvutar or some unknown power that ensured that soul mates throughout the ages would find each other again, Melia had been returned to him in the form of this elven maid. Ariel would not know him and she would know nothing of the life they had shared together but Legolas would love her just the same because in time, she would come to love him as well, for they were meant to be.

Ariel stared at the elf before her with interest, pleasantly surprised because Frodo’s description of the Prince had not done the elf justice. She did not know why but she felt drawn to the handsome elf though he appeared a little pale upon seeing her.

"So, are you as good with that thing as they say?" She asked, glancing at the bow strapped to his back after composing her thoughts a little better.

"I have been known to be proficient," Legolas replied softly, trying to hide the emotion in his face though Gimli and Gandalf knew all too well what he was feeling.

"Well then," she replied with a playful lilt to her voice. "I look forward to seeing you again."

"I doubt you will be rid of me," Legolas could not help but remark.

Her brow arched slightly and she gave him a long stare, "I have this feeling you are going to be more trouble then you are worth."

And with a smile that told all before him that he had truly come home, Legolas Greenleaf met Ariel’s gaze and remarked playfully, "I would say that I am not the only one."

THE END

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