Notes: You will notice that I am trying to keep my timeline a bit vague so as not to stray too far away from the actual canon timeline. It's not perfect by far, but I'm doing my best.

Henig = child, or my child.

"Keep still, mellon, please." A melancholy voice slid through the blackness. Elle's entire body hurt. Even breathing caused the muscles in her chest and sides to ache. Elle recognized the voice but somehow, she couldn't place it. She didn't want to place it. She just wanted to go back to sleep. She tried to force this by squeezing her eyes shut even harder, never opening them.

"Leave her be for now. It seems she does not wish to wake just yet." A deep, rich voice filled her ears. tempting her eyes to open. Elle resisted. She wasn't ready to return to the world of the living yet. Something unnamed nagged Elle's mind as someone stepped outside of the room. Elle heard a heavy wooden door open and shut.

"Although..." the rich, soothing voice sounded again, "We do not always have our wishes fulfilled." Elle heard the king slide into a seat near her head. "Open your eyes, henig," Thranduil gently ordered. Elle obeyed.

A light-colored wood ceiling filled her vision. The pattern etched in the wood told her she was back in Mirkwood, though not in her room. Elle sighed, eliciting a soft "hmmmm" from the king beside her bed.

"Nauethe has fretted over you for days, child. It is not kind to put on such an act," his words were not unkind. Elle, still lying flat in bed, turned her head to face her savior.

"Either way, I am glad you are awake and feeling better," Thranduil seemed to falter here, unsure of whether to push on for a moment. "You do remember the events which placed you here?" Thranduil's voice was even, though Elle noticed a slight tinge of concern.

"Yes," her voice was horse and her throat dry. "I remember." When there was no response, she continued. "How did you find me?"

"Rochiril, the maiden-horse, returned to the city bloodied and with no companions. She led us to the location of your capture. We had no difficulty from there." Rosie. She was alright.

"And Aegon and Fannor? What about them?" Elle pushed back an anxiety attack, tears near the surface and her chin trembling. A soft, yet heavy hand placed itself on her shoulder.

"Be calm, henig. It will do you no favors to upset yourself. You need to recover," Thranduil leaned forward a few inches.

"Aegon. Fannor." Elle choked the words. Thranduil took a moment before responding.

"We recovered Aegon, with heavy wounds. He is still recovering and has not woken. Fannor did not make it. His body has been given proper funeral rites while you were asleep. I am very sorry, Elle." Thranduil's voice was calm, but the strain in his neck showed he fought to keep it so. It did not help. Elle burst into silent tears, imploding in on herself over and over again. She found herself in the fetal position, falling apart.

After a few minutes of this, there was no end in sight to the inky blackness that Elle felt surrounded by, but through the impossible darkness she felt her head being lifted and her upper body resting against something firm. Thranduil held her tight and something inside Elle clicked and she hugged him as she would have hugged her mom if she were there.

The two stayed this way for quite a long time. Thranduil waited patiently for Elle to calm naturally. Eventually, she did. "I should have never allowed you or my son to leave Mirkwood. I am sorry."

Elle lifted her head and rubbed her eyes. She was being unfair, unfair to the king. He must be in so much pain, losing a citizen and nearly losing two more, his son off to the Mountain of Death and Doom. Elle forced a few shaky, steadying breaths.

"Don't say that. None if this is your fault. Bad things happen sometimes," Elle managed.

"I am the king and those under my care have been hurt and killed. I must shoulder the responsibility." Thranduil stated matter-of-factly.

"Bu-" Elle began, but was interrupted by a squeeze of her shoulder and a slow shake of the head, his platinum hair swaying with the movement.

"Quite, henig. We must speak of more important matters if you have the strength, if you do not then you must rest."

"What do you need?" Elle relaxed a little, feeling the fatigue wash over her again.

"You were in the orc camp for nearly a week. You must have heard of their plans?"

"Yea. They were heading west to where Mr. Baggins is from." This earned a nod from Thranduil.

"We demolished that particular orc pack, along with the one responsible for Fannor's death; however, others are already reaching the 'Shire' as we speak. This land is at war. Nowhere is safe, including Mirkwood."

"Wha-" His long hand held aloft silenced her.

"Mirkwood must do its part in the fight against Sauron, meaning I must travel outside the city to lead my army. You will accompany me."

"Me? Why?" The adrenaline that must be pumping through her veins did not do much to help her exhaustion.

"You are safest by my side, henig. I gave you my protection when I allowed you to stay and live here in my city. My son loves you. I will not allow any more harm to come to you, I promise." With this, Thranduil gently pushed Elle back onto her pillow and pulled the covers back over her. "But now I have told you what I must." Thranduil stood, allowing his hand to momentarily lay on her head, before resuming his normal posture. "I will inform Nauethe of your improvement. Sleep. You will need your strength in the trials to come," Thranduil finished with his back to her, gliding to the door.

"Thank you," Elle whispered as she fell into the easiest sleep she'd had since Rivendell. She did not see the smile play across the worried king's lips as he left the room.

...

Legolas sat in the corner, watching the merriment of those whose king had been healed. Gandalf the White had cured the Man King Théoden earlier that day. His people were overjoyed. They were to ride to Isengard on the morning. A battle seemed imminent, but Legolas was unnerved by a different cause.

"Sorrow is ever on your countenance, mellon-nin," Aragorn prodded Legolas yet again. His friend had been very attentive of late. Legolas shrugged, not a normal gesture for an elf. He had picked it up from Elle.

"I worry for her. I cannot give you a logical reason." Legolas stared at the stone floor, covered in dirt and straw.

"One does not need logical reason to worry for the ones we love," Aragorn's smile was resigned.

...

Elle leaned herself against Rosie, the sunlight cascading through the tree canopy and falling on her shoes in fragments. Rosie stood still, unwilling to cause Elle any sort of discomfort. It had been almost a week since Elle had woken. She waited near the Mirkwood gate now, waiting for the king and his personal envoy. Thousands of Mirkwood soldiers were waiting just outside the forest, prepared to depart to head off orc flooding in from the north.

Aegon stood not ten feet away, still and serious. He had been promoted in rank since his recovery. Elle hadn't been able to really talk to him, but he didn't seem overly eager to speak with her either. He had changed somehow, the ever-present smile gone from his lips. Any smile he gave anyone was forced. She didn't blame him.

Elle gazed up towards the trees. The memory of her first riding lesson with Legolas flashed across her mind. She missed him deeply. Thranduil had told her of his safe arrival in Edoras. She had gone to the library to look the place up on a map. He was quite a ways south of Mirkwood, but away from the Mount of Doom and Demise. She dreamed of him most nights. Sometimes the dreams were more like memories, memories of their lessons together, or the party where they first danced, or the hill on the yellow plain where they first kissed. Other times she dreamed of him in battle, felling foes, but ultimately being struck down by orc. Those made her wake up covered in a cold sweat, nearing a heart-attack.

The best dreams though, by far, were the ones where he would just be next to her. Sometimes they were sitting in a forest near a little lake like the one in Rivendell; sometimes they were lying together on a beach much like the one her mom used to take her to when she was little; sometimes they were holding each other, in a very nondescript place. They never talked in those dreams and nothing ever really happened. They were just existing together.

Elle vowed that those dreams wouldn't live and die as only dreams. She would make them a reality. She just had to live through this. Legolas would do his part.

Elle looked back to the earth to see Thranduil riding her way, his large elk treading gracefully. She wrapped her arm around Rosie's reigns and hauled herself atop the horse. Aegon was soon a pace behind her, her ever-present bodyguard. As Thranduil reached the gates, Rosie fell in line next to the elk. Two guards opened the large, wooden gates. Elle felt comfortable with the long knife and bow strapped to her back. She had been practicing while atop Rosie.

She was ready this time.