Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Warning: 

It contains non-graphic depictions of torture and violence. No good guys die though. 

0.0.0

The other four members of their patrol waited for Avaleina and Tern to come back from their tentative scouting mission to get more specific information from the trees about whatever threat had been lurking through the human villages and the edges of the forest for nearing two months now.  

The two of them were the smallest and the fastest at slipping through the tree’s, and the most difficult to knock out of the branches. There was hardly ever a reason to be worried about them, but Legolas always did until he heard the familiar thudding of them landing back on the ground. 

Two thuds, right on time, “Well?” Legolas asked. 

Avaleina and Tern looked at each other, probably hoping the other had a better explanation to offer than they did. 

“Well, that’s encouraging,” Farlen said dryly and leaned dramatically against a tree. 

Avaleina gave him a prolonged dirty look before she turned her full attention back to Legolas, “It’s had to tell.” 

She paused again, and Legolas held up a hand for Farlen to remain silent, “The trees say that they are not orcs or goblins of any kind and that they remind them of humans but they aren’t human. They know they’re sinister, but they can’t tell for or about what.” 

“And what did you feel?” Galdahon asked with open sincerity. 

“Nothing,” Tern and Avaleina said together. Without a glance or change in expression, they bumped the backs of their hands together in silent delighted acknowledgment. 

This time Tern elaborated for the both of them, “We looked around everywhere they were last felt but couldn’t see or feel anything. We have no idea what it is. There are tracks and whatever it is, is wearing some kind of footwear. But that’s it.” 

They were all silent for a few minutes while they pondered the situation. 

“If we do nothing?” Legolas asked the group, seeking their most common opinion.

Technically every patrol team had a captain even the Amrath. And the technical leader of this particular group of Amrath was Legolas, but if they were allowed the fortune of time to discuss things amongst themselves and come to a group decision they always tried to take it. 

“If we do nothing, then they continue killing random farmers, fishermen, young women, and Eru only knows what else,” Farlen answered, and the rest didn’t argue with his statement. 

“And if we try to investigate?” 

“Well,” Avaleina said, “all things considered I think it seems very likely this could be some sort of elaborate trap, that seems likely to end very, very poorly for us.” 

None argued with her statement either. 

“When have things ever not sounded like they could end very poorly for us, hmm?” Galdahon asked, looking around at all their faces, “And when have any of you had the will to leave the village to be slaughtered like cattle?” 

“So instead we should be the cattle?” Farlen countered. 

There was a heavy silence as they all contemplated the words, Avaleina broke it by doing a fairly good impression of, “Moooo.”  

All the others copied her Moo, Farlen only after a deep sigh. 

“Come fellow cattle,” Legolas proclaimed enthusiastically, throwing an arm around Farlen’s shoulders and starting forward, “Let’s go stomp around in the underbrush and see what scary things come out.”

0.0.0.0.

Regardless of what other people might have thought, Thranduil didn’t give his son any special treatment when it came to official matters. Just because he could theoretically ‘see’ what was happening in most parts of the forest if he put enough thought or power into it didn’t mean that he allowed himself to do so. 

While the vague, and at first rather haunting, feeling of Greenwoods vastness lived permanently at the back of his mind, it did not often tell him anything about the happenings of anything that was not close to their home unless he looked or asked for it. 

That was not to say the forest did not tell anybody of suspicious things or of patrols in danger. There were just proper channels for that. 

So when they frantically reached out to him without prompting under the command of their Prince, followed by sending borrowed emotions of complete distress, surprise, dread, and some sort of aching numbness Thranduil had never felt before he paid attention.

“Excuse me,” Thranduil said without really even noticing or caring who was talking or what he was interrupting. 

He was halfway to the door before anybody could think of a reply. 

Because regardless of what others may think, Legolas did not ask for any special treatment for attention. In fact, it seemed he had done the opposite and trained himself to stay silent perhaps even when he should not have been. 

So if he had reached out with urgent and clear intent to communicate he needed help, not even Mandos could have kept him from going to his son. 

He was about to yell for Galion when he came skidding around the corner, “I was with Ferdan when Ava sent him a message too. He’s on his way to get elk’s and medical supplies, he wants you to get ‘his good knives’ because he doesn’t think I would get it right.” 

The two of them were practically jogging down the hallway, “Do you think you would have gotten it right?” 

“I would have just brought him all of them.” 

0.0.0.0

Legolas had to admit, the Necromancer had thought it out this time. 

The dart with a tranquilizer that worked on elves, sending men instead of orcs, finding a cave deep enough that a few simple charms on a few necklaces could keep them from contacting the forest, and chains fastened securely to the wall and ceiling to keep them from going anywhere. 

Except the Necromancer hadn’t quite anticipated how little the men knew of elves. He hadn’t anticipated that the men would not properly check to ensure that the rest of their elven patrol was dead when they choose him and Avaleina to take. 

‘We can’t leave any of the others alive.’  

Granted, the wounds they inflicted would have killed any man. 

But elves are not man, and elves do not have to breathe as often as humans, especially when they’re in a deep and artificial sleep. Elves’ hearts to do not beat as quickly as men do and so they do not bleed out at the same rate, especially when they’re in a deep and artificial sleep. 

They rushed. 

The only thing the woodland realm took more seriously than injured elves, was missing elves. 

“I really, really, wish I had something to tell you, but I don’t. I don’t know anything,” Avaleina said, a few words slurred due to a badly split lip, forcibly not looking at Legolas who hung by his wrists several feet behind the three men and their fire.

A knife slid farther underneath her fingernail and Legolas watched with hopelessness as Avaleina tried valiantly not to scream out with the pain of it, the strong boards her legs were chained to creaking with her effort to try and kick them in the face.

0.0.0.

Even Ferdan had lost the trail when they entered the mountains, but none of them had lost their resolve. The trees would tell them if they departed the mountains, and so they intended to search every crack and crevice until they found Legolas and Avaleina. 

Even with the sun setting, they didn’t slow their methodical but hastened search. Thranduil knew that Ferdan was as determined as him to not return home without their elfings. Which was for the best, because if they hadn’t been, then they wouldn’t have been around to hear the echoes of an agonized scream. 

Avaleina’s agonized scream, to be specific. 

Like the fires of Mordor were lit beneath them, Thranduil and Ferdan began scrambling up the mountainside towards the sound. The rest of their company struggling to keep up. 

0.0.0

Blood still streamed from the three fingers that were already missing their nails, pooling on the cave floor at her feet. 

“Tell me what you know,” The human man said, twisting the knife sideways until finally, she did scream, the sound echoing around the cavern with incredible sincerity. 

“I told you,” She said, spitting blood out of her mouth onto the ground with a few gasping breaths, “I don’t know anything.” 

With the flick of the humans’ wrist, another nail popped off and Legolas struggled not to cringe at the sound and the sight. The human seemed disappointed when she didn’t scream again. 

Humans were always the most dangerous when they were abducted to the ways of darkness, always too eager and ready to prove themselves. So cavalier and uncaring about whatever pain and destruction they caused, too excited to inflict it. 

If they hadn’t been, then the men wouldn’t have taken turns slicing random parts of their flesh before they were even half awake, just to say that they spilled elven blood. Again and again, before chaining them up for the entire day with no food or water.

Humans were easily blinded in conscience, forethought, and guilt by greed and the tantalizing scent of fleeting power. 

Some of them already so full of hatred already, even before the darkness crept into every part of their minds, “And I told you that I know that’s a lie. We were ordered after you for what you know, now tell us,” 

Leaning in until his nose was practically against hers, he gently ran his dirty and unworthy fingers across her cheek and purred “Come now, little kitten, our master is waiting. I think you are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and I’d hate to have to keep marking you up like this, but our master is not patient.” 

Avaleina just stared at him with cold fury and jerk her head as far away from his hand as she could. The knife in the human’s hand was replaced with a near red-hot one, and he sliced it across her stomach in a deep but near bloodless gash.

 Her teeth were gritted with pain, “I think I’m over two thousand years old, I know many things that you do not-” 

He backhanded her across the face again for her backtalk, hard enough her head bounced off the rock behind her and Legolas wrestled inwardly against his own temper to not struggle against the chains that hung him against the wall and roof.

They couldn’t know how much hurting her affected him, they couldn’t know that he would have done anything in the world at that moment to take her place. 

Anything. 

Because that would only make their game that much more fun. 

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They both stood perfectly still, listening. 

Trying to get some sort of clue which way to go, which way it had echoed from originally. 

Which hole they had crawled in. 

“Anything?” Thranduil whispered, knowing that his friend’s ears had always been better than his own. Ferdan shook his head in silence. 

Together they began creeping up the mountainside again, this time much slower. Internally berating themselves for not being able to find a clue or a trail. Externally nearly glowing with anger. 

Like living proof that falling stars hit the earth. 

When they found whoever had done this, not even Mandos himself would be able to put the pieces together to figure out what part belonged to who. 

0.0.0.

“What do you know?” Before even waiting for an answer, another one of the humans stabbed her in the thigh, and left the knife in as it sizzled and burned away, “We’re growing impatient of your lies.” 

“I’m not lying!” She nearly shrieked, face wet with tears and sweat, “I’m not lying, I’m not lying, I’m not lying. I swear to you I’m not. I don’t know-”

They twisted the knife slowly to the right until blood oozed out in a small river and she cried out in pain, “Do you want to hear the names of all the flowers that used to grow in our forest? Or how many different kinds of tree’s there are to call friends? I know that. I can tell you about that-”

Another fingernail dripped into the puddle of blood. Another scream. Legolas accidentally bit a chunk out of his cheek with and effort of withholding his reaction. 

He knew he was next. After they were done playing with Avaleina, he was next to be questioned and tortured. But that thought didn’t matter to him, not in the slightest. Not now.

All that mattered was finding a way to get her out of there, through freedom preferably, but death if there was no other choice. He wouldn’t let her get taken to Dol Guldur, and he wouldn’t let the vile humans force themselves upon her. 

He just hoped that they would be rescued before it came to anything as drastic as that. 

The human looked about ready to ask another question or to stab or cut her again, and so Legolas interrupted him, “We don’t know anything. We’re exiles. Our people sent us away years ago, anything we might have known will be useless now. They’ll have changed everything.” 

The leader turned to scrutinize him, “I have never heard of elves being banished from their people before this very moment.” 

“I don’t suspect you’ve come across many elves before this moment.” 

Because if he had, he would have known better than to not do everything to reduce noise. Better than to force scream after scream to echo out of the cave, so easy for other elven ears to hear. 

Legolas continued, “King Thranduil does not tolerate disobedience from his subjects.” 

He must have said it convincingly enough because the humans faltered and glanced at each other. Legolas and Ava took the opportunity to do the same, he tried to make his look as strong as possible for her steadily weaker one.

The tallest and seemingly the leader of the men turned back to Legolas, “Then why were you with so many other elves, so heavily armed and with good weapons?” 

“Do you really believe that there are only two elves in an entire kingdom that has been exiled? As for the weapons, King Thranduil is strict and cautious, but he is not cruel. He would not send us out into the forest with no way to protect ourselves.”

The man laughed mockingly, and it echoed around them, “Are you telling me that we were told specifically to capture members of a military patrol at that specific time and just so happened to get a group of exiles instead?” 

All the retorts that immediately came to his mind were much too rude and hostile for such a situation, and Legolas stalled to think of a better way to word it. 

Avaleina picked it up seamlessly, even with her bloody lip, “There are plenty of us exiles wandering around at the edges of the kingdom, are you sure whoever told you it was a patrol didn’t confuse us with them?” 

The humans looked at each other again, and Avaleina spit more blood onto the ground and continued, “We can’t stay in one place, there are people like you around and far worse. It’s dangerous to travel aimlessly in these woods, even for us, so we have chosen routes. Our paths probably look like some sort of patrol.”

One of them punched her in the face, and Avaleina’s head banged harshly against the cave wall again. For a very worrying few seconds, her head didn’t right itself. 

Legolas’ heart couldn’t beat until it did. 

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In a rage, the man whipped around and threw the dagger as hard as he possibly could at Legolas. Probably aiming for something more vital, but striking the spot where his right shoulder and his chest met. 

He grit his teeth and tried to remember how to count to ten in one of the Avari languages to distract himself from the pain. He stormed across the fire and ripped it out without thought or concern. 

Still not adequately vented, he also stabbed Legolas in the leg twice and one that struck his rib. 

Legolas was dizzy with the pain or perhaps the blood loss, but he still saw the same internal heartbreak and struggle reflected in her eyes that he had been feeling for hours. 

The man ripped the knife back out of Legolas and turned back to Avaleina, “Now where were we?”

0.0.0.0.0.

“Tell us what you know!” It echoed towards them from somewhere rather close, not the voice of an orc or goblin as they expected. The voice of a man. 

A soon to be a dead man. 

They quickened their pace again, well aware but uncaring that many of their companions hadn’t been able to catch up with them yet. That didn’t matter much, there were very few creatures who could stand in the way of Thranduil and Ferdan’s collective furry. 

And a group of men was not one of them. 

Soon they were able to catch the scent of blood and human stink and crept over the last hunk of rock, careful to keep low enough to not create a silhouette. Around thirty men stood gathered around a fire at the entrance to a cave, while another fire seemed to burn from within. 

Legolas and Avaleina were nowhere in sight. 

The crept down the back of the rock again, and then carefully around the side towards the completely unaware campsite. They unsheathed their weapons in silence, and stepped out of the shadow at once.

Eight were dead before they could even blink, silent enough that Thranduil could hear the sound of bones breaking from inside the cave, and then Avaleina cry out in pain again.

The next ten men died before they could scream. But there was another pained scream from within the cave. 

Thranduil watched Ferdan’s thin grasp on composure slip, he sliced a knife across one’s face before smashing the hilt over his head. Another lost its head at the same moment, putting a swift end to the start of a terrorized shriek. 

Then he stormed into the cave, leaving Thranduil to kill the few that remained and follow him in. 

0.0.0.0.0.

“Tell us what you know!” The leader screamed in her face, punching her in the stomach over one of the older wounds. She doubled over as far as the chains would let her, coughing, blood dripping from cuts on the inside of her lip from being smashed against her teeth so many times. 

When she took too long to catch her breath, he bent all of her fingers backward until they cracked and snapped, she screamed again. By the strength of her arms alone, Avaleina pulled herself back upright, “That’s a very broad question, do you have something more specific perhaps?” 

He twisted the knife that was still in her leg, drawing out yet another shriek, “Think of the most important secret you’ve ever been told, and we’ll work our way down from there.” 

A terrorized and clearly cut short scream ripped from near the mouth of the cave, and everybody froze. 

Silence echoed after it, and Legolas waited for the storm. 

He might have laughed with the knowledge of the vindication yet to come if he didn’t fear the might manage to kill Avaleina if he did.

Like absolute rage incarnated, Lord Ferdan appeared out of the darkness. 

Two of the men were dead before they could even take in the sight of him. The third, the leader, the one who Ferdan had probably seen break Ava’s hand and wiggle the knife like a toy found himself pinned by his throat with his feet dangling off the floor. 

Ferdan demanded in a tone even more deadly than his knives had been, “The key?” 

Face turning red the man pointed with a shaking hand to the body of one of his companions, Legolas couldn’t turn his head to see but he assumed somebody was checking the pockets. 

Ferdan didn’t take his iron stare off the man’s face even as he asked, “Thran?” 

There was a small jingle, before Legolas heard his father’s voice, “Here.” 

Like a twig, Ferdan snapped the man’s neck and dropped him to the ground, catching the keys as Thranduil tossed them since he was the one closest to Avaleina. He undid her feet first, momentarily letting most of her weight hang off her wrists while he undid those locks as well, draping her over his shoulder.  

He tossed the keys to Thranduil, just as he arrived to free Legolas in the same manner, “Oh my poor little leaf.” 

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This got wwaayy longer than I expected, so I’ll see you all in chapter 2 :)

Chapter Text

She should have been able to tell who it was long before the newcomer spoke, before the two other men were dead. 

But the ache at the  back of her head bellowed so strongly in her mind that she couldn’t focus enough on her vision to see the face. The agony in her leg from the knife a ringing chorus, and the persistent thrumming from her broken hand added itself seamlessly into the world's worst orchestra. 

The charm prevented her from feeling the soul of anything else, she couldn’t sense the life leave the humans bodies. She couldn’t even feel Legolas, and she surly could not sense to tell who had come to rescue them. 

The newcomer was too fast to be a human, and so it must have been an elf. It was not blond, so it could not be King Thranduil. Her head pulsed with pressure and pain the more she tried to focus, Avaleina struggle to resist the urge to gently rest her head on the cave wall behind her. 

It felt so heavy. 

She hoped it was Ferdan. If Ferdan was here, then it would be alright. Everything would be alright. Even if it wasn’t alright, if Ferdan was here that meant others were on the way. Probably Thranduil. And then surely everything would  be completely fine. 

She coughed out the blood in her mouth. 

“Keys?” Ferdan snapped. 

And even her symphony of pain paused long enough for her to find pure and utter relief somewhere in the recesses of her mind, even for a moment. 

It was Ferdan.

 It was okay. It was okay. It was okay. It was okay. 

It was Ferdan. 

It was okay. It was okay. It was okay. It was all going to be okay. 

She might have sagged in relief at the conclusion, had the harsh chains not been hanging her from the ceiling like a deer on a meat hook. 

It was okay. It was okay. It was okay. It was okay. 

It was Ferdan. 

Before she was even aware of what was happening, gentle hands began undoing the harsh and burning bindings around her ankles. Even with them undone, she couldn't find the energy to do much more than open her eyes again, she hadn't even been aware that they had closed in the first place. 

Right before he undid her hands, she felt Ferdan place a warm and loving against her face, “Its okay now, its okay. I’m here. It’s all going to be okay.” 

And then the bindings from her wrists gave way, and she fell rather gracefully into his arms and onto his shoulder. 

0.0.0.0.

“Get me out of this cave, get me out of this cave, please get me out of this wretched cave.” Avaleina almost chanted with gasped breathes mixed equal parts terror and pain, “Please get me out, please get me out. I need to get our, I need to. Please. Please. Get me out of here.” 

Ferdan’s blood continued to boil mildly in his veins, the small slaughter of humans was not enough to drain his body of all its volatile rage. Not clear his thoughts of the hatred of men, nor of hearing Avaleina’s desperate screams. 

The echo that came from these mountains tonight would be just another dark moment to haunt his dreams and convince him that another part of his heart had been taken to the Halls of Mandos. 

With as much care as he had ever moved any creature, Ferdan shot out of the cave and past all of the cranage at the mouth of it. Not stopping his swift movements until they were behind a ridge and in the open moonlight. 

Only then did Ava stop her broken chants, and returned to ragged breaths. 

Ferdan laid her down as softly as he could, pulling off his cloak and pillowing under her head to keep the already heavily damaged area from receiving any more, and laid a delicate hand over the bruises that darkened her cheeks. “Oh, my poor sweet girl. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry it took us so long to come and find you.”

Dozens of cuts littered her body with several deep gouges, gashes, and cuts added to the mix. Her skin was pale and clammy with blood loss, and where it wasn’t near pale white it was colored black with a bruise. The sight shattered his heart fundamentally. 

A few tears slipped from her eyes, and she gave him a weak and broken smile.  

“Better late than never,” She managed, voice trembling as she began to shake gently. Thranduil appeared and laid Legolas next to her. Automatically, their hands found each other and entwined. 

Legolas asked for the both of them, while Avaleina struggled to get more blood out of her mouth, “The others?” 

“All alive,” Ferdan reassured immediately, “They’ll be hurting for a while, but they’ll be alright.” 

“Good.” Legolas said, gripping his father's hand with his free one in an effort to steady himself.  Although, judging by his expression, it was probably Thranduil that needed the support at the moment. 

“What did you tell them?” Thranduil asked, and Ferdan could practically feel how much he hated having to ask a question like that in a time like this. 

But there were few elves in Greenwood that possessed enough knowledge to potentially tear the entire kingdom down. Knowledge of their defenses, their positions in the woods, routines, food storage and trading. It just so happened that both Avaleina and Legolas were apart of that group. 

“She didn’t tell them anything. We didn’t tell them anything. Nothing. The only things we told them were complete lies. Fabrications without an ounce of truth.” Legolas said, while Ferdan set himself to addressing Avaleina’s head wound. 

“What did you tell them?” Thranduil asked again, the tone the perfect example of pure and wholesome patience.

“That we were exiles,” Legolas answered, struggling to swallow “That we hadn’t been apart of the kingdom for many many years. That they got us confused with a military group. That we had nothing to tell them.” 

“Nothing else?” Ferdan pressed, briefly worried that Thranduil wouldn’t be able to make himself do it. 

“Nothing.” They answered together. 

And then Ava added another, slurred, “I swear we didn’t, I swear.” 

Leaning down Ferdan kissed her delicately on the forehead, “Shhh, it’s okay, we believe you. It's okay, you’re okay.”

She settled back down a fraction, and returned her focus on trying to breath. Then Thranduil and Ferdan returned to tending to their wounds before deciding anything further.

0.0.0.0.0.

“Are we getting close yet?” Avaleina asked, fully aware of how whiny her voice sounded and not caring in the slightest bit. Every step and turn ached her entire body, all she wanted to do was fall asleep but Thranduil and Ferdan wouldn’t let her. 

Legolas had tried to stay awake, but has succumbed to the will of his exhausted body one or two hours ago. 

“More than halfway to the bottom.” Ferdan assured, giving the hand he held (the only one with any remaining fingernails) a gentle and reassuring squeeze. 

“Come on now,” Thranduil prodded from her other side, where he walked between the liter that held Legolas and the one that held Avaleina, “What's the next line of the poem? I know you know it, you can find it.” 

She searched her brain to find answers. Looking under every ache and pain like they were rocks in the way of her worm discovery, but her search yielded nothing, “I don't know.” 

“It starts with ‘Star’” Ferdan hinted, helping to maneuver her more gently over a large drop. Even so, she couldn't help but hiss at the pain, and there were several murmured apologies. 

Avaleina resumed her search, cursing the injury at the back of her head the entire time she did so, if only she could have just rested on the way back to the mountain. If only they did not have to be worried she would fall into a slumber she might not have any hope of recovering from. 

If only none of this had happened.

“I hate this game,” She complained, “It's too hard.” 

“Good,” Thranduil replied, “Then it will keep you awake.” 

“Lets go, next line. Starts with ‘Star.’” 

0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.

“Please, please let me sleep. Please.” 

Ferdan replied because he didn’t entirely trust that Thranduil’s voice would remain level through the entire sentence, “I know you’re tired, and I know you hurt so much right now. And I know you just want to forget for a little while. But you can’t. Not until we get you to a healers.” 

“What if I promise that I’ll come back?” Even as Avaleina said it, her eyes began to drift closed. 

“No, no. Wake up. Come on.” 

But her eyes didn’t open like all the other times they had closed.  

Ferdan used his stern voice, “Ava, open your eyes. Now.” 

She didn’t so much as twitch.

Thranduil didn’t hesitate before he placed a gentle hand onto her forehead and sent some of his power directly into her. Around them, the tree’s ruffled themselves like a summer breeze had kissed their leaves even during the crisp frosts of late October. 

Once the warmth of magic faded, her eyes dragged themselves open again. Ferdan forced himself not to sigh with relief, “There, we let you sleep. Now, I’m going to say a word and you just say the first thing that comes to mind.” 

“Do I have to?” 

“Yes, you do.” 

0.0.0.0.0.0.0 

By the time they were within a few miles of their home, the only way to keep her somewhat calm and still on the litter was if Ferdan sat with her on it. One leg on either side, and her back leaned at a gentle angle against his chest to help keep her awake. 

The fingers of her uninjuried hand were entwined with his, and his other kept a gentle pressure on her thigh wound. Together they sang the lullaby he had used when she was still a very small elfing over and over again trying to more easily pass the time, distance, and pain. 

Trying to keep her awake. Keep her body from getting the rest that it begged for, yearned for, and desperately needed. Trying not to feel like he torturing her all the same as the men, but in a different manner. 

His heart broke over and over again for every bink and every breath. 

"How Legolas?" She mumbled to nobody in particular. 

Ferdan looked over to Legolas and felt his own blood turn cold at the sight of how pale he was. Looking nearly translucent in the moonlight with his blond hair. "He's still sleeping, still with us." 

Such sweet and gentle creatures should not be forced to endure horrors and pains like this. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right.

"Good." She said, this time almost a whisper.

It hurt so much to witness, and certainly much more to experience. 

Ferdan could feel as Thranduil willed a little bit more of his strength into Avaleina for perhaps the fourth time. Anything to keep her awake.  

Anything to keep her alive. 

0.0.0.0.

While the healers got to taking a look at all her wounds, cleaning and carefully assessing her head so that they could create a treatment plan for it, Ferdan had to hold her in a sitting position. Otherwise she swayed dangerously

The word games had stopped for the most part it, it no longer seemed possible to prod her into active conversation, unless asked a very direct and pressing question. Or unless she decided to speak. 

She didn’t even react to any pain she must have felt from the healers touches. 

“Still with us, Ava?” Ferdan asked, his voice sounding sickeningly concerned even to his own ears. 

It took four to five seconds for her eyes to meet his from where they had been staring out a nearby window, and she gave the slightest nod. She appeared to be gathering the will to speak, “How’s Legolas?” 

“He’s okay, they’re almost finished dressing all of his wounds. None of them seem to be infected or poisoned.” 

“Everyone?” The rest of the question seemed to be too difficult for her to force out. 

“Everybody else is resting, healing.” She didn’t even nod at the information, and he moved one hand from where it held her shoulder to cover the largest and darkest bruise on her face and stroked her cheek very gently, “Soon you can be, too. So soon. You’re so close.” 

Ferdan hated how accurately the word ‘listless’ described her. She looked at him and it spoke without words as well, ' Not soon enough' 

All of her bruises had somehow managed to darken, and her wounds had keep stubbornly leaking for hours. The entire right side of her face was deep purple and blue, to match the color of Legolas’ entire abdomen. 

They both had obvious circles of near black around their necks. 

It was hard to tell if the bruises made her seem even paler now, or bleeding from other injuries, but either way she could have blended in well with stone. Poor Legolas looked near dead with his light blond hair rendering him nearly colorless in the moon lighting.

Thranduil took a small glance up from his son to meet eyes with Ferdan, and nodded nearly imperceptible at one another.  They each turned back to their charges. 

A few tears began to slip from Avaleina eyes, so before she could rest her head on his shoulder Ferdan brought his forehead to rest gently against hers, and began another go of the lullabies. He kept his hand on her face, but adjusted so that the heel of it helped her hold up her head.

Avaleina's eyes drifted closed against the world, but she continued to nearly silently whisper the words along with him, and so he let her be. As long as she kept singing with him, he wouldn't make her watch. 

Ferdan wiped her tears when they reset Avaleina’s hand, cleaned and stitched her various and plentiful wounds scattered over her body. 

When everybody was done their work but the ones on her head Ferdan asked, “Can you stop for a moment so that I can sit with her.” 

They stopped. 

Without even knowing the word hesitation, Ferdan sat on the stereal bed. He moved so that Avealian’ was practically sitting on his lap. But also strategically so that she would be easier to gain the upper hand on if she so choose the time to fight back. But also so that he could be 

0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.

Avaleina’s knew that part of the reason that Ferdan held her like this was so that she could not hurt one of the healers if their ministrations took too long or were too painful. Even if she wanted to, she was certain that she would have been able to muster the strength for such an action. 

Instead, she took a moment to bask her in her newly refound feeling of safety and tranquility, and tried as hard as possible to seep it into her soul. So that it could send the feeling to every part of her body, they were safe. 

She was safe. She was safe. Ferdan was here, so she was safe. 

Avaleina continued to try and ignore the feeling of a needle sliding in and out of her mostly numbed skin. Her body gave its absolute best shot at shaking for some specific purpose unknown to her, and every inch of her skin felt cold and clammy.

“You’re okay, it’s okay. It's all okay. You’re okay.” Ferdan kept saying to her, rubbing one hand soothingly up and down her arm. She didn’t have the strength nor the heart to tell him that not a single part of her seemed to believe that it would be okay. Not one. As if sensing this fact, he switched to, "It'll be over soon. I promise. You're so close." 

“ ‘Stars in the sky long and cry, for the creatures on earth they love still die.’ “ Avaleina mumbled without context, and she could almost physically feel him frown, even if her face was nearly squashed against his shoulder,  “The line of the poem I forgot.” 

“Ah yes,” He let himself laugh once, and then rested a hand upon her head and began ‘playing’ with her hair. It grew even harder to feel the touch of the healers hands. To feel the needles “I’m so proud of you, sweet girl of sunshine and flowers. I’m so proud.” 

If possible she snuggled even closer to Ferdan and his warmth, one of the healers handed him a blanket when he gestured with one hand and helped to wrap it around her shoulders. “It’s just a poem.” 

“I wasn’t just talking about the poem. I was talking about everything you do and are ” 

After three more rounds of the lullaby, the healers all stepped away. They were done. 

They were finally done. It was all over. She could finally rest soon. Finally. 

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“Avaleina, you need to drink it.” The healer told her sternly, attempting to hold the cup to her mouth again. But Ava didn’t so much as bink in reaction to it. Ferdan watched the healer struggle for not even two full minutes before he practically snatched the tea out of her hands for fear she might spill it on her, “Move. I’ll do it.” 

The healer scuttled away without any further prompting. Ferdan resisted the urge to roll his eyes are her pathetic attempts to somehow force an only half-conscious and less than half functioning Avaleina to drink the beverage. 

He put the cup on the table next to him for a moment and carefully eased himself slightly away from Avaleina. This caused her to react to the world around her for the first time in several minutes, “Where... going?” 

Kissing her forehead he said, “I’m not leaving you, just adjusting.” When he was more beside her on the bed rather than behind he picked up the mug again, “Alright, now you have to drink at least half of this  up or they won't let us let you go to sleep.” 

Her green eyes usually to clearer and sharper than any bird of prey were now seeping closer and closer an alarming dullness. Ferdan laid one of his hands over hers, “Small sips at a time, okay? Thats all we expect.” 

 Ava managed an almost nod of confirmation. So Ferdan held the rim of the cup against her lips and waited for her to take two very small sips of it. He pulled it away from her, and laughed at the expression on her face, “Not enough honey?” 

With a nose crinkled with with distaste, she nodded. He grabbed the jar of honey he had asked to have them brought up for this exact situation he had expect to happen. After stirring moe in, she took a few bigger sips. She still seemed to be mildly disgusted, but it was better than before. 

After another two or three attempts, a little more than half of the brew had been drank. 

“Can I sleep now? Please? Please? Please?” Avaleina whined and borderline begged. 

“Yes, you can rest now.” Ferdan said, and began to help ease her into a lying position, “You’ll need to be woken up every few your to make sure that your head is not getting worse, and that you can still wake up when we call for you.” 

“But I can sleep?” 

“In two hour intervals.” 

“But I can sleep now?” 

“Yes, my poor sweet girl, yes you can.”  

O.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.i.o

See you in the last  chapter!!

Chapter Text

The rest of the world and all the noises and sensations that went with it came back to him slowly, tingling at the tips of his ears and nose with the warning that he was about to wake up.

Only, he wasn’t sure he wanted to wake up.

The only time he felt like this, was when something that really, really hurt had happened to him. And right now, he had no intention whatsoever about suffering through anything horrible or painful at this current time.

He was just about to fall back into the peacefulness of complete oblivion when he heard his father’s hopeful voice, “Little leaf?”

He could never ignore his father. Well, he could, just not when he sounded like that. Never when he sounded like that.

And so with all the energy that he could muster from all the corners of his body, Legolas managed to groan and open his eyes, ”I think I can taste my spleen.”

He heard his father give a small laugh, but even as his eyes adjusted to the scorching daylight he could hear the tremble of tears threatening to overtake it, “Does it taste good?”

Legolas allowed his eyes to drift gratefully shut against the onslaught of light they refused to grow accustomed to, “Not particularly, no.”

Then a large warm hand appeared to take one of Legolas’ cold ones, while the other brushed some hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear until some breeze could distribute it again, “Then I suggest you stop eating it.”

“I’ll think about it.” He took a few deep breaths ignoring the pain in his ribs with each intake and then asked, “Ava?”

This time, Legolas could hear some sort of relief or fondness, “Still among us, Ferdan is sitting with her a few beds down from yours. She hasn’t woken up yet.” Not even knowing how long he himself had been asleep, Legolas was still disappointed by this news, Thranduil squeezed his hand reassuringly, “I’m sure she will wake up again soon.”

“She better,” Legolas managed to say while also trying not to register glimpses and flashes of pain from the various wounds that littered what felt like every part of his body, “Or I’m going to be really angry when I find her again in Valinor, whenever that may be.”

Even against his best efforts, his voice wavered with the weight of what that would actually mean. If she were to go to the halls without him. In front of the humans he had been iron when it came to concealing what she meant to him, and what losing her could mean to his soul and to his heart but in front of his father, there was no point in even trying. The idea of even a single year with Avaleina gone from Arda while he remained, was almost near enough to cause him internal pain to match the physical.

A year without seeing her smile or hearing or laugh or at the very least the knowledge that they existed somewhere on the earth was unthinkable.

“Ferdan says that he will wrestle Mandos to the ground if he has to.” A cool water glass was pressed to his lips after Thranduil finished speaking. Legolas took careful sips until it was taken away and he heard the gentle sound of it being replaced onto the nearby table.

“I believe him,” Legolas managed to say as his voice grew noticeably weaker with every word.

Already it was getting harder and harder to keep his mind from wandering through the universe again while leaving his conscious knowledge and his body far behind. Legolas wasn’t even awake long enough to hear his father laugh at him softly again and press a kiss to his forehead.

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Ferdan had one of her hands clasped in both of his own, head resting on them and elbows resting on the side of her bed. His eyes had hardly strayed from her face for the past few hours, not unless he absolutely had to. And even then only half of the time.

The fingers on her hands that no longer had a nail were heavily bandaged to say the least, the only thing that was perhaps more painstakingly wound was her head. Layer after layer of stril white fabric that efficiently concealed the stunning mazework of stitches that it took to piece her head back together.

Although her hands were on the verge of being ice cold, her face, neck, and chest were flushed with heat. Her eyes had not moved from beneath their lids since the moment they told her that she could go to sleep, and she gave no reaction to any of their probes for signs of life.

The only thing that brought him any sense of measurable relief was that her breaths may have been shallow, but at least they were rhythmic and unchanging. He just wished she didn’t look so finally rested laying on the bed so pale and unresponsive.

He kissed her hand and then folded it between his own again, “I’m so sorry, my poor sweet girl. I’m so sorry this has happened to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t faster.”

0.0.0.0..00..0.0.0.0.

Even her dreams were dark, confusing, and twisted with pains. Voices rolled and echoed in her ears louder than anything had ever heard before. Leaving scorch trails of pain and fire wherever they passed, and even some places they didn’t.

She desperately wanted something. Her soul needed something, someone. Multiple people. Of that she was certain, she just didn’t know who they were or where they were.

If she found them, then she would be okay again. Everything would be okay.

The pain grew along with the fire until both were towering figures that hopelessly dwarfed her, the menacing laughter roared to meet their height. Making her feel all the smaller, all the more helpless. Defeated. Trapped.

Alone

She was starting to sink into the idea that she wouldn't be getting out of here, she had been trying for hours. Maybe days to crawl or claw her way out to no avail. No progress at all, as far as she could tell.

And so she fell backward into the embrace of the pain

Everything burned in this all consuming fire.

There didn’t seem to be an end to this fall.

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Thranduil pried himself away from Legolas long enough to go over to Avaleina’s bed and check on Ferdan. His friend sat slumped over the bed, with one of her hands held in his hand in such a manner it appeared as though he thought it might shatter under any pressure or breeze.

As far as he could tell, Ferdan had not moved from his position since he had arrived early that afternoon after having been regretfully and bitterly pulled away for a matter in the morning.

Thranduil stopped next to the chair and looked down, his friend kept his head bowed. Too heavy with his thoughts or emotions to raise it to meet his eye. With a soft hand, Thranduil placed it on the base of Ferdan’s neck and gently pulled it towards himself.

With little to no resistance, the great and proud weapons master of Greenwood let his head rest in defeat and in search of comfort against Thranduil’s stomach. Not letting go of Avaleina’s hands. The king’s hand rested soothingly on his hair while the other ventured to Ferdan’s back and started to rub circled there instead.

“I don’t know how I’m going to handle it if this is finally the time she doesn’t wake up...” Ferdan nearly whispered, eyes still on Avaleina’s pale face.

“She will wake up. She has come this far, she is too stubborn to let them win now.”

Thranduil pointedly ignored the growing wet spot on his shirt from his friend’s tears, “She can not know how far she has come if she does not wake up to see it.”

“She will feel it.” Before Ferdan could argue, Thranduil pressed on, “The world whispers everything to that child. They will whisper this too.”

Ferdan nodded absently, and then his voice slithered into the air like a deadly and determined snake, “I’m going to lose it if after all the training, the practice, all the Orcs, Wargs, Spiders, Trolls and Eru knows what else that she had fought and survived, if the thing that finally gets her is some disgusting bunch of humans.”

He didn’t respond because Thranduil had learned over the thousands of years they had spent by each other, that sometimes there was no point in responding to Ferdan. None. So he kept rubbing at Ferdans back in comfort.

When another voice drifted from the doorway, “She told me that she absolutely refuses to let Mandos take her for anything less than a Cave Troll, I do not recall reading in the report anything about a Cave Troll being involved.”

Ferdan pulled away from Thranduil to look at the attendant as he came in with food both warm and cold, so when they inevitably denied eating now something might still be enticing later.

Maybe.

“I don’t remember you having the authority to ready those reports?” Ferdan stated more than asked.

Galion was unphased as he placed the food on a nearby table, “I don’t. However, Thranduil once agreed to allow me ownership of half of his desk as hazard pay, so therefore, I own half of the things that are on top of it. So I do not need any authority for things that are on top of my property.”

“Half your property.” Thranduil corrected.

Galion nodded, “Right.”

Ferdan looked back to Thranduil with narrowed eyes, “Did you really give him ownership of half of your desk?”

“Probably,” Thranduil shrugged, “I really would not be surprised if I had.”

0.0.0.0.0.0.0.

Everything was dark but she was awake, she was certain of it. Not even swimming in the scalding acid of her fever dreams had hurt this much. Every breath hurt her chest and both hands seemed to have been replaced with an endless throbbing pain.
Her eyes must not be open, and not a thought existed on her mind on how she might fix that.
Judging by the softness beneath her, Ferdan and Thranduil seemed to have successfully brought her back to the stronghold. Either that or Mandos let you have a good long nap before you woke you up in the halls.
Then the thought occured it could be even worse yet. That she might be back with the men, or still with them. Maybe the rescue had been nothing more than a blissful fabrication her mind kissed onto her subconscious to allow her a few moments of peace and comfort.
Trying to ignore the pains in their body, Avaleina attempted to speak but her mouth did not even open and all her throat offered was a pathetic excuse for a mumbled growl. Even that hurt, causing a tear to slip from her right eye.
She wanted Ferdan, or Thranduil, or Legolas.
Actually, in that moment, she might have accepted any and all friendly company, for all she wanted was to not be alone. To be assured she was safe. The humans' laughs echoed disturbingly in her ears and it was near impossible to tell if they were real or a cruel invention of her mind to make upf for hte sweet dreams. Avaleina scrunched her eyes against the noise.
Attempting to shut the door on the nautsating sound.
An extremely gentle finger wiped the tear for her before it reached the spot on her cheek that prickled with the promise that the gash had needed stitches. She all but melted into complete liquid with recognition of who the finger belonged to.
“Don’t try to speak, my sweet girl.” Ferdan said, hardly above a whisper. “Legolas is healing fine, better than you. Nothing is that important enough for words.”
Her lips began to tremble at the sound of his soft, caring voice. And about the fact she wanted to tell him not feeling alone was more important than any pain or discomfort her physical body could provide her.
That the lingering loneliness and fear was made all the worse whenever it was combined with darkness to make the ultimate and unstoppable enemy.
Avaleina could practically feel the weight of his concerned and loving gaze resting on her, and it made it all the worse to hold in her extreme emotional reaction. She was preparing to speak again when his calming voice was heard again, “Are you frightened, Ava?”
She squeezed her eyes tightly closed twice, Greenwood armies universal sign for yes. Two knocks, blinks, or other sort of notification for yes and one notification for no. Usually she was not one to openly admit fear, especially not to their Weapons Master. Most times she would rather die than admit weakness, fear, or bring her master disappointment.
But this was not Lord Ferdan the Weapons Master, but simply the elf Ferdan, who had helped to guide her the best he could through this tumultuous life after her parents had been taken from her. He was the one who could fix everything, south any wound, untangle the most complicated of problems, bring laughter to every sad soul.
Chase away every fear.
“Do you want me on the bed with you?” Ferdan asked.
She squeezed her eyes closed twice again, completely shame free. Almost immediately after the signal, Avaleina listened to the feet of his chair as it was gently relocated across somewhere else on the floor. Leaving hardly even a faint whisper of its movement for proof.
Very gently Ferdan moved her a little to the right side of the bed to make room for himself, moments after a dip appeared on the left side of her. If possible, the tremble returned to her lips and chin with even more sincerity than they had before. Every inch of her skin prickling with the anticipation of feeling the warmth of a familiar body that had always meant completely safety since near her first memory after her parents.
Once he was reasonably settled sitting upright with his back pillowed against the wall his voice reached her, “Come here, little flower.”
With extreme care and slow pace, Ferdan managed to get it so that she was laying between his outstretched legs one more, with her head pillowed on his lap. Similarly to how they had been on the stretcher on the way here.
Due to the broken ribs, she was not able to lay on her side and nearly wrapped her arms around his leg like a life preserver, as had been her tendency since they found her, she was forced to simply lay on her back.
To try and make it up to her, Ferdan pressed his legs against her sides as tightly as he dared, began to gently play with her hair then began to sing more lullabies of old.

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Thanks for reading!!! It was supposed to only be three chapters long, but I’ve convinced myself it needs to be four.
So i hope you enjoyed it, and I hope to see you again in the next (and final) chapter!!!!!

Chapter Text

With the help of his father, Legolas collapsed back into the chair. Panting and seating both from warmth and from the pain his various injured parts throbbed with. The worst being his knee, the worse was always his knee. 

Even as his abdomen screamed with the displeasure of reforming torn and stabbed muscles, his knee hollered ever louder. No matter what the healers did. 

No matter the exercises that he did. 

The patience he kept with it. 

He could feel a similar frustration rolling off of Aveleina as she continued to restrain her eyes to focus and unfocus like they should. Head still wrapped in thick bandages, and her broken, fingernail-less hand resting limp in her lap. 

Even after they had been rescued, half the time it still felt like they were alone in that cave together. An island of their own, cut off from the rest of the world. Not moving at the same speed or wavelength. 

Unable to fully free themselves of those wretches chains that kept them from returning to their people. The people that depended upon them. 

Elrond stood at the bottom of the steps to the main house and stared down the roadway with obvious confusion, the setting sun making it near impossible to see who from the Woodland Realm had suddenly appeared without warning.

A circumstance that Elrond could count happening on previous occasions on one hand, and none of them had been for pleasant reasons. 

Out of instinct, Elrond looked to his right at Celebrian who was the resident excerpt on all things Wood Elf. But she just shrugged at her husband, meaning it wasn’t Thranduil or one of his henchmen. 

Another two minutes and finally a small troupe of elves on elk back trotted into the welcoming courtyard, Glorfindel riding at the head with them since he had come to inspect who had ventured so close to their borders. 

They dismounted and the leader of the visitors removed his helmet and Celebrian gasped with equal parts surprised and delight, “Farlen! What brings you here so suddenly?” 

“Not good news, as I assume you expect.” He said, bowing with respect to everybody present, “I come on behalf of our healers, they wish to humbly ask the help of Lord Elrond’s healing knowledge.” 

“Of course,” Elrond answered without a moment of contemplation, “Whatever I can do to help.” 

Farlen passed a sealed envelope to the lord to keep the papers from getting destroyed by the elements, and Elrond gently peeled the sealing wax off of it. Quickly sorting through the pages he pulled out the two that seemed to have the most detailed sketches of the injuries.

Only his professional training kept him from wincing at what was expected. One showed serious head injuries, and the effects it was having on a badly dislocated hand. The other was a wound in a leg, a twisted and partially shattered knee and a Femur that had deep stab puncturies into it. 

“Oh, Valar,” Celebrian whispered in heartbreak from where she peaked at the wounds from over her husband's shoulder. 

“Yes,” Farlen agreed sadly, “Our sentiments exactly.” 

“What did this?” Elrond asked, it was uncommon to see such precious wounds from any of the dark creatures. They didn’t have patiences for precision. 

This time Farlen nearly spat the word, every letter dripping with venom and hate, “Men. Bought men.” 

“Men?” Celebrian and Glorfindel asked together with mutual shock, wide eyes flicking between the younger elfs face and the pages held in Elrond’s hands.  

Farlen only nodded his confirmation, “Our healers are doing all that they can to help restore movement but-” 

“But the nerve to the hand is damaged and the fingers won’t respond correctly, and you’re not sure how to restore the knee so that it can without any sort of load or body weight.” Elrond mused out loud, not intending to interrupt. 

“Who did it happen to?” Celebrain asked, “Do we know them?” 

“Legolas and Avaleina.” Elrond and Farlen answered together. 

Feeling the scrutiny of all their visitors' eyes on him Elrond lifted his gaze and lazily offered them a look at the pages as he pointed to two of the fingers, “Avaleina broke those here when she was 83, I reseth them for her.” 

He moved to the next picture, to a small fracture on the side of the Femur, “Legolas fractured this part of his leg the same day. I remember every injury that I treat.”  

He turned the pages back to himself again and began to mentally make dozens of notes, “Did Thranduil send a healer?” 

“Yes, my lord.” A young elleth said, stepping forward from the ranks. “I assisted with both of their care and will have the answers to your questions about previous treatments.” 

Elrond nodded once, eyes still on the pages, “Excellent. Follow me, please.” Turning to his side, he kissed Celebrian on the cheek, “I will see you tomorrow morning, my love. I plan to spend all night on this.” 

She smiled at him adoringly, “I expected nothing less.” 

As Elrond and the healer departed, Celebrain turned to the rest of them, “Come, let us get you fed, warmed, and tucked into beds.”

“Ava, that’s enough.” Ferdan said from where he lazed on top of one of their great stone walls that kept the forest from getting too close to their home. The sun was warm on his skin but not as warm as the small flash of annoyance when Ferdan realized he was being ignored. 

He didn’t like being ignored, never had. 

He opened his eyes and turned his head to the left, to the grass clearing that Avaleina was practicing her dancing in, the one she had been practicing in for the past two hours. An hour longer than the healers wanted her to do, but Ferdan knew better than to only allow her one hour. For she would be dancing in the moonlight after the others had fallen asleep if that was all she were allowed, her soul needed more connection than that. 

“Ava,” He went to continue but paused when he realized why she was ignoring him. 

Her hand wouldn’t move the way she wanted it to for a move, a move that was needed if she were to dance in the next yule celebration. As she had done near every year since she had passed the dance mistress's carefully constructed course. 

Ferdan sighed with sympathy, and received a scalding glare from Avaleina for his troubles. She didn’t want sympathy, she wanted her hand to work the way she knew it used to. 

He hopped easily down from the wall and paused for several seconds before seamlessly stepping into the dance with her, catching both of her hands so that he could lead her into another dance. One that didn’t have any complicated hand motions. 

She gave him a look that said she knew exactly what he was doing, and that it wouldn't work forever. 

But she seemed content to let it work for that afternoon, and that was all that Ferdan was going to ask from her.

“Legolas,” Thranduil said from his bedroom doorway. He knew his son was awake, but still wasn’t surprised when Legolas remained laying on his side facing the wall. He hadn’t been overly willing to speak with anybody but Avaleina since he had been discharged from the healing ward. 

Mended to completion except for his leg, which remained too stubborn to even make an effort towards healing. Thranduil blinked away a few tears from his eyes before he came farther into the room and stood next to the bed, “Not all hope is lost.” 

“Maybe not lost, but blocked from me.” Legolas muttered bitterly into his pillow. 

“For now.” Thranduil gently amended, “Only for now. But the rest of us hold the hope for you that you have lost.” 

Legolas snorted with slight disdain, and asked “The same hope you have for Ava’s hand? The one who won't let her move four of the fingers?” 

“Yes,” Thranduil answered confidently and without hesitation. 

Legolas remained silent, his back so rigid it looked nearly painful. 

“Do you want-” 

“No.” Legolas interrupted, “I want to lay here.” 

“Alright, how about-” 

“I want to lay here. Alone.” 

Thranduil superseded another sigh and more tears, he knew better than to try and force company upon Legolas when he didn’t want it. “Alright, Galion and I are just in the next room.” 

“Stay there,” Legolas grumbled again. 

Ava knew that Thranduil and Galion were still awake and talking in the sitting room, and so she carefully climbed through Legolas’ window and into his bedroom. Not because she thought it would hide her presence, in fact she knew the two of them would sense her the minute she crawled through the window, but so she wouldn’t have to face them directly. 

At least not yet, she wasn’t up to having any more conversations right now. 

Unless it was with Legolas. 

He rolled onto his back when he heard the window open, and Avaleina felt her heart warm at how quickly he always reacted to her presence, even if he hadn't turned to face anybody else for several days now. 

He opened his arms to her, “Come. Talk to me about it.” 

Tears that she had been holding all day slowly began to spill from her eyes and she crossed the room to collapse onto the side of the bed he wasn’t laying on. Apparently not satisfied, Legolas slid one arm under her so that he could roll her until she laid upon his chest and then wrapped both arms around her rib-cage. With extreme caution she laid her legs so that one was between his and the other on the side of his non-injured leg. 

“I still can’t dance right,” She whispered miserably into his chest, “No matter how much I try, I just can’t. My hand won’t do it.” 

He carefully slid one hand up and down her side in a soothing manner, “I’m sorry my love, I know how much dancing means to you. I know the joy you get from the connection.” 

    She sniffled and shrugged her shoulders, “It’s fine.” 

    “No,” He whispered into her ear, “It isn’t fine. You didn’t deserve what they did to you, the effects it's having.” 

    “Neither do you,” She whispered back miserably. 

“My knee isn’t stopping me from one of my greatest talents.” 

Avaleina kissed his jawline and then snuggled her head back into his neck, “Perhaps not, but it’s keeping you from the only thing that makes you feel like you’re making a positive impact on your people.” 

He kissed her lovingly on the top of the head, and said nothing. 

They both knew there wasn't much left to say tonight. 

“Are you sure you will remember everything?” Elrond asked anxiously. Had his sons been home, he would have sent the both of them with those from Greenwood to ensure that all of the instructions were remembered and carried out exactly as they were supposed to.

The healer nodded, “Yes, my lord. And I have ample notes to share with all the others.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“She’s certain,” Glorfindel answered for her, “Absolutely positive, Elrond, stop asking.”

“And if she forgets so much as a word,” Farlen added, “I’ll remember.” 

Elrond nodded, he knew all three of them were right. Ferlen had spent every spare moment studying and listening to the care that Elrond was prescribing. Even if he did not understand the words, he had memorized them. 

And repeated them every night. 

Still, Elrond could not help but wring his hands with worry. They had one chance to make this right and if anything was done wrong, then Legolas and Avaleina were to spend the rest of their lives in Arda with limited movement and chronic pain. 

    “Good luck,” He wished them with all sincerity in his heart. 

    Celebrain stepped forward to hug Farlen and a few others goodbye, “Send us word of how their healing progresses, and let us know if you would like us to send the twins.” 

    Farlen dipped his head in thanks and kissed Celebrain on the cheek in thanks, “We will, I’m sorry we could not stay longer.” 

    “Do not be sorry,” She chided lightly, passing around a few more last minute traveling snacks to those returning to Greenwood, “You go home now and end their pain.” 

    Glorfindel mounted his horse, as he planned to help escort them across the Misty Mountains to ensure the package arrived safely, “I should be back within two weeks.” 

    Unable to help himself, Elrond asked, “Are you certain you do not want any of our warriors to accompany you?” 

    Glorfindel rolled his eyes, “Yes, Elrond, I’m certain. Go rest.”

With the remainder of the Greenwood visitors on their elks, the group turned and departed at a hastey trot. 

“Do you think it will work?” Celebrain asked Elrond, melting into his side as he put an arm around her waist and puller her comfortably against himself. 

 “I certainly hope so.” Together the two of them watched their visitors turn into specks winding up a complicated path out of their valley, “If anybody has the strength of determination, its them.” 

Hello my loves!!!! Its been so long!!!! 

I’m sorry for the loooonng gap between he updates. Its been….. A rough 8 months or so. But I’m so grateful to those of you who have stuck with me through it! 

I really hoped you liked the update, I can’t wait to hear your th oughts!