I had decided I wanted to sleep in my own bed, near my parents, and not in the palace. To visit with mother and father.

I ate dinner with them. Talked about my journey, leaving some things out. Answered their questions, only to become unresponsive to others.

It wouldn't go back to the way it was before. When the world hadn't taken my innocence and blissful ignorance away from me. In between the words and the bites of soup, I wanted to scream. To blame the world for changing what was once perfect. But I kept my outcries in.

For it wasn't the world that had done this, rather the evil that resides in it.

While spooning mouthfuls of nostalgic soup in, I came to a realization: I would never be able to love the world. For the world contains all sorts of evil. But I could love the good. I could mourn for all the goodness that was lost, for the goodness that is suffering, and for the goodness that will be destroyed.

But the Valar—Eru—would preserve most of the goodness. Using people like Aragorn.

Like me.

And maybe... maybe I could live with that.

*********

Legolas was silent before he continued quietly. "You did tell them you'll be leaving?"

I nodded slowly. "They... got quiet." The quietness had been so thick I could've cut it with a knife.

"And... they wanted to know where I'll be headed." Oh, the silence then could've strangled a chatterbox.

Our footsteps bounced off the walls, accompanied by others who traversed the corridors. "I could speak to them, if you'd like."

"Yes," I breathed. "That'd be wonderful."

Legolas's hand brushed mine as we walked, the small touch as loud as thunder, as igniting as a bomb. I sucked in a breath, wishing to just reach out and grab his hand. The wish was so strong I didn't think I could breathe. But Legolas shifted away.

I need to tell him.

But the door we had been travelling to appeared and the guard positioned in front swiftly opened the gateway.

Legolas stopped, letting me enter first. I did, but with a quiet 'thank you' to the overly fancified armored guard. I guess Thranduil's sense of fashion extends to his palace soldiers.

It was a garden—a small one, with a large hedge acting like a fence. Hand-planted flowers lined the bottom of the hedge, with wild-flowers galore spread sporadically throughout the rest of the small clearing. A fancy-looking table, big enough for a small conference, sat nestled in the grass, matching chairs as accessories. A weeping tree watched over the table, long leafy tendrils reaching down.

Under that tree, seated at the engraved oval table, was the King. No kingly robe sat on his shoulders, but a dark silver uniform, very well-tailored, adorned his body. Instead of a crown of wood and leaves, there was a silver circlet. Small and had no jewels but was twisted elegantly enough to fit a king.

I immediately—instinctively—bowed, fist over heart.

"Father," Legolas greeted with the bow of the head.

The King stood and instantly my palms began sweating, I tucked a few white strands behind my ear. He's a giant light switch. For my nerves.

The intense urge to inspect Thranduil's shoes, instead of his face pulled my eyes downward as if connected to a string. But—I forced myself to gaze into his eyes. A terrifying thing.

And then his blue eyes—the same thunderstorm color as Legolas's—met mine. It was like slamming into a stone wall. But as I maintained eye contact, I could melt into him. See the kindness he could have towards his stewards, his love for his citizens, his care for the nature around him.

My shoulders relaxed. I couldn't tell what he was thinking through his eyes—not like how people seemed to do with me—but I could see his good intentions. And that was enough. For now, anyway

Finally, his eyes shifted from me—apparently done with his inspection—and I hoped he found something good.

"Ion, I know why you have had this meeting called," the King said rather bluntly. "I do not intend to have my thoughts changed on the matter."

"Perhaps so," Legolas agreed. "However, I may be able to change your actions."

His Majesty preceded to sit in the grass, not a care in the world (that could be seen) that his clothing may get a bit grass-stained. As soon as he sat, I sat. Glancing at Legolas, I found that he had done the same. His eyes met mine.

What now? I tried asking, biting my cheek.

We change his mind, he seemed to say. We get him to help us with the upcoming battle with Sauron. Troops. Healers. Supplies. Whatever we could get.

Hopefully all three and more.

And if we were to get anything, we'd need it now. Time was pressing us. If we didn't leave quickly, then we'd miss the battle entirely. And possibly having the deaths of many on our hands because we couldn't get there in time. Or had no supplies in any way.

Thranduil holds the lives of many in his hands now. Especially with the Uur Rauko now a factor.

"Father, as I have told you, Sauron is regaining his strength. With Lumornel's help we've discovered that Sauron is planning an attack with a force much larger than one Gondor can summon."

I felt Thranduil's eyes on me. But I focused on the ground I sat on. Ran my hands through the silky grass. Plucked pink and white and blue flowers. And as Thranduil shifted his attention once more to his son, and their conversation grew in length, my pile of wild flowers had grown considerably.

I picked flower after flower, like I did when I was younger. Maybe I'd do the same and give them to Mother. Each flower was different in length, but beauty the same. After awhile, I branched out.

Moving back a couple feet, I relocated my flower pile and began to add more to it. Using nimble fingers, I began to weave the flower stalks together. Soon enough, I had a "crown" of sorts in my hands.

Glancing up, I noticed the two royals were deep within a heated conversation. Suddenly, I was transported from my serene flower-world to their tension-filled one.

I hated it. Politics. Using words as swords, weaving bits of information in and out of conversation, hinting at something one did not know. Manipulation. Lies. Scheming.

And tension. This confrontation without using threats.

Refraining from shaking my head, I stood and made my over to the seated elves. The grass even looked like it wanted to lighten the mood, for the green tendrils looked as if they were tickling the Royal's butts and backsides.

I sniggered and went to join the conversation (the one I wasn't supposed to leave) and placed the flower-crown on Legolas's fair head. And at once sat down.

Their conversation abruptly stopped.

However, with a small smile lighting what once was a gloomy face, Legolas quickly glanced at me and continued the argument—more softly. More reasoning. Flowers matching perfectly, helping adorn his bright face.

But Thranduil was still taken aback. His surprised gaze flickered from the flowers rimming Legolas's sunnier face, to me biting my lip, looking anywhere and everywhere like I did nothing wrong.

Then, a corner of the King's mouth lifted up. And his eyes became lighter, like pebbles instead of boulders. He returned a lightened gaze back to his son, jumping back into a milder conversation.

And to me, he then looked like an ellon, instead of a faraway king.

I relaxed further, the sight of something more normal calming me.

I then looked fondly to Legolas, the pastel flower crown fitting him perfectly. In the middle of a sentence, he reached up almost absent-minded and adjusted the crown.

I smiled.

"And what about you, child?"

Like a deer caught in front of an arrow, I froze. Thranduil looked at me expectantly.

But I hadn't been following their conversation. And the King knew it.

"I agree with Legolas. Middle-Earth needs saving, even if it will cost lives," I blurted, hoping I said the correct thing.

Thranduil nodded, a surprising expression of satisfaction upon his features.

Legolas glanced at me, brows raised in almost surprise.

I gave him a returned expression, as if to say, yeah, I got skills.

He tightened his lips to hold in either a smile or a laugh. Maybe both.

"The forces of the kingdoms of Men will be enough. Why bring in elves?"

Legolas sighed, as if they had already been over this.

"Esgaroth is further from Mordor than we are, and maybe the armies and cavalries of Gondor and Rohan will be enough. But we cannot be sure. Sauron gets stronger with every passing day. A time will come when we can no longer surpass him." Legolas talked with his hands, as if trying to push reasoning into his father.

Inwardly, I nodded. But had to grip the grass to steady myself as a wave of dizziness over took me.

Dread settled in.

"I will not waste elven lives in a doomed battle," The king stated.

A sudden ache bloomed behind my eyes.

"But if you do not do so now, then the whole of Mirkwood will be destroyed!"

I gulped. "Legolas..."

And just as his eyes glided over to me, an explosion of pain rocketed my brain.

Crying out, I doubled over, soft grass itching my forehead as light tried shining through my hair. Red filled my vision with agony, warmth dripped from my nose, my ears.

Legolas was calling my name, saying something else. But it sounded like it was coming through cotton. I couldn't make out the words.

His strong hands guided my shoulders upward, to face him. Legolas's wide eyes took in my flushed face, blood from nose and ears stark.

But I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed raggedly through clenched teeth as the pain began to climb. An unimaginable pressure just under my skull.

'Another vision?' Legolas's mouth formed, the sound barely audible.

I opened my mouth to answer, but a groan escaped instead.

And then, as I saw the king calling for someone, the pain faded.

And was followed by darkness.

"—at full strength," a voice contemplated, deep and hauntingly beautiful.

"We are now, my Lord," he replied, steadying himself more on his feet.

Sauron, forever trapped in metal gear, stopped his pacing and gave him a deep stare. "We are not at full strength, nor will we be for many months to come."

The Dark Lord strode to the other side of the dark room, forcing open a door. He stepped out onto a balcony, looking out over Mordor.

Sauron's first Lieutenant General followed him to the overhang. Mordor was a haze of action, so many dark bodies milling about. It looked like an ant colony, with as many of them there were. Forges sent up smoke and steam and yells, the weapons-places littered everywhere across the morbid land. Orcs hacked at the ground for minerals, at the sparse trees. Many were picking fights—although unintentional, a great way for battle practice.

"The armies of Middle-Earth are far too unwilling to jointly attempt a successful assault against my forces. Even as it is, I have more numbers than that of all the kingdoms of Men combined. I have all my armies congregated in one land. Weapons and armor have already been made. Trolls and wargs have been bred and trained. Even if elven companies march against us, they'd be hopelessly overwhelmed."

The Lieutenant General gripped his hands behind his waist, waiting tensely in the intentional pause of speech. Sauron was nothing if not dramatic. Perhaps something he learned from Morgoth.

"We may not be at full strength," disgust could be heard in his voice, "but we are ready."

The Dark Lord's Lieutenant General nodded. "How may I be of use to restore our strength?"

Saurons gauntleted fists clenched the warped iron railing. "Arrange for that girl to be captured by any means necessary. Do more than simple orc raids with ropes." The fists released, voice becoming lighter. "I do believe that girl owes me her side of a bargain."

The Lieutenant General nodded . "Your will will be done, my liege."

He waited to be dismissed while his lord basked in the bitter cold air of Mordor.

"The Uur Rauko shall finally be tame..." Sauron murmured joyfully—ruefully.

"You are dismissed."

And with a thanks and bow, the Lieutenant General strode purposely out. Once out of sight, his fists clenched. He'd follow his master's orders. He'd do so with glee.

But that didn't mean Alagosson couldn't hope to be the commander of the Uur Rauko. To have the mortal-elf be no more.

My own sight and senses returned to me in Legolas's arms. I breathed in deeply, anchoring myself more in this world—place, finding delight in the cedar and fresh rain scent of Legolas.

And yet my stomach dropped with dread and panic overlaid my mind.

I sat up, out of Legolas's arms.  He gladly pulled away as my shoulders slumped. I wanted to close my dry eyes against the experience, but was too afraid that if I did close my eyes, I'd be back there.

Legolas gave me a moment of silence, as if to let me absorb what I just saw. What I heard.

"What's coming?" Legolas asked softly.

"I didn't see the future," I replied with equal softness. I gripped at the grass, feeling some of the blades pop free. "I saw the present."

A look of horror passed over the Prince's face.

"Has Gondor engaged in war?"

"No. No, not yet. But Sauron is readying for war. He's not at his full strength. We have maybe months until he is. But his forces—they're more than enough to overwhelm Gondor and Rohan's military power."

"What else?" Legolas knew me too well.

"He's ordered for more power to go into my capture. He wants me to finally control the Uur Rauko." And Alagosson, the foe that Kaylessa and Ellelote warned me about, wants me dead.

Legolas sat back, digesting this. "When will he be ready?"

I shook my head dreadfully. "He's already ready. It's just a manner of how long he wants to grow his strength."

Thranduil's voice reminded me that real life was happening and that not just Legolas and I were in this garden alone. "How many infantrymen does Sauron have prepared?"

I shook my head again. "I can't be sure—he didn't mention it. But it's destined to be too many."

Sauron—he wasn't beautiful this time. He was crude. Dressed in iron. No glowing skin to be seen. Not even iridescent eyes.

And... an overconfidence in him. Except for when I was brought up. However, that wasn't worry, that was anger in the tightening of his fists. Shown in his voice when speaking to his Lieutenant General.

I froze, breathing and all.

Alagosson. Alagosson had been the Lieutenant General. Sauron's Lieutenant General. His second in command. Just under Sauron himself.

Oh Valar.

*********
"All have their worth and each contributes to the worth of the others"
           —J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion

So... this book will soon be coming to an end. Like in a few months. So I'm starting to think about what needs to be cleared up/wrapped up.

So the obvious one is; how is Lumornel a human when she was conceived by elves? Are there any others? So I don't forget? (Because trust me, i will)

IMMA RANT REAL QUICK. ON GOOGLE, IF YOU LOOK UP TOLKIEN, THE PICTURE THEY HAVE FOR HIM IS WRONG. I THINK THE PICTURE IS OF THE ACTOR WHO PLAYED THÉODEN. I sent in a 'complaint.' But I did that last week and they did nothing.

Okeyyy, has done.

See y'all next week. Many blessings.

Novaer, mellyn
~awatin~