Warm, white mist shrouded my body, almost tangible but barely there.

And I knew where I was and who stood before me.

I spoke first. "It has been completed, this task that was set upon me so many moons ago."

The voice that answered was not that of Lórien, which is what I expected, but instead of his wife, Estë. Her gentle voice came through the air, simultaneously one with the mist and a separate entity.

"You have done well, my child, and it is due to your perseverance that no longer the ancient malice of Sauron can tarnish Middle-earth. I know you have suffered on the road, and have earned rest. As you wake, all your hurts will cease to be."

"Thank you, gracious lady," I said, bowing my head in thanks.

"Now we turn to other matters," she said, almost with regret. "As you know, this is not your world... we opened a rift to bring you here, owing to your ability to overcome this evil both through courage and your origins."

My heart pounded in my ears; I had known as soon as I recognised where I was. I could not stay. I was to leave, I did not belong--

I had stopped paying attention and realized that Estë was still speaking.

"You were given time, time measured by our stars and not those of your world, marked by the stars you bear now. Because your task is over, your time is short."

As she ceased speaking, I tried to reply. "How-- how much time do I have?" My voice in my own ears seemed tired and pitiful.

"You have the power to decide that for yourself," she said, surprising me.

"What? How?" I asked, sure I had misheard. I became aware of another immense presence near me, and this time it was Manwë, Lord of the Wind, Sky, and all other Valar, who spoke.

"It has not escaped us that you have found a home here as much as in your own world," Manwë said, his deep voice gentle. "Though never done before, if you so choose, you will be allowed to stay."

"For how long?"

"For the rest of your life."

I knew I had misheard him-- there was no way that this was possible. Immediately, I tried to ignore my mind's images of Faewyn and I running through the trees or of Legolas smiling, instead speaking again. "But-- how? That cannot mean--" I broke off suddenly.

"It is as you think," the voice of Manwë said through the mist. "But there is a price. You cannot be of both worlds, and if you choose to stay, all memory of your presence in your world will fade. Your parents will be childless, your friends will not remember you, other events which you have impacted may not happen or change in nature. This is the condition, else the fabric of your existence be compromised."

"What if I choose to go back, what then?" I asked, my words hollow and resounding in the empty fullness of my surroundings.

"You will remain part of your own world, and will never return here again." Estë said gently.

My mind spun with thousands of thoughts I was in no fit state to attend to.

"May I--" I swallowed thickly, my throat dry. "May I consider both options for a time?"

"Of course," said Manwë gravely. "This is, I think, no easy decision to make."

"No," I whispered.

"By the next day of this name, you must choose, Gianna," came their voices again.

My dreams returned to scattered, hollow recollections of the day before, recalling again the blood and death that I had wrought.

Before long, I would wake to find myself completely devastated.

*******

"Good morning," said Legolas, who was sitting across from me on what seemed to be a dark wooden bench, intricately carved and draped with a faintly shining fabric. He had looked up as soon as I opened my eyes. I propped myself up with my hands, noticing that I sunk a few inches into a blanket-covered mattress.

I didn't trust myself to speak. I couldn't find the words to tell him what had happened-- I would have to, eventually. But for now....

"Good morning," I replied at last, looking around. "Where are we?"

"My tent," he said with a wry smile. "It was closest after last night, you were exhausted."

"Was I?" I remarked. "Didn't you rest at all?"

"I did not need to," he said lightly. "Music played by the elves is an elixir in itself."

"Not for me, I suppose," I said, half wistful.

"It is not that," said Legolas thoughtfully. "You simply needed to rest. Nothing can take away exhaustion, only dull it temporarily."

I stretched and swung my legs over the edge of the bed-- Legolas' bed, I realised. The thought made me blush horribly, and I pretended to be looking around to try and hide the fact.

The tent was wide and bright, with red draped walls and flowered golden carpets on the floor. In the corner was a small footstool on which Legolas had left his bow and quiver.

"It is beautiful," I commented, admiring the clearly very fine woodwork of the furniture.

"Thank you," said Legolas, "It is indeed."

"How did you get all of this over here?" I frowned. Even the bench he was seated on would be difficult to bring on foot, not to mention the rest of the furniture.

"My father," he said dryly, "Insisted."

That explained a lot. Thranduil had but to insist and surely he could command a mountain over here.

Suddenly rather self-conscious of the fact that I was still sitting in Legolas' (admittedly very comfortable) bed, I stepped down onto the floor absentmindedly.

"You look--"

"Probably terrible," I said airily, "You know, I just fought a battle."

Legolas tilted his head just a little. "That is not what I was going to say," he admonished, amused.

"And what would that be?" I raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"I thought I would mention that despite the previous few days' turmoil, you still manage to dull the light in any room," Legolas said softly.

"You flatter me," I managed to say mildly, though I felt faint at his words.

"Not without due cause."

"You are entirely too much." I said flatly, meeting his gaze rebelliously.

"So are you," he returned. His eyes held me still with blue fire. "Utterly too much."

I walked towards him, not knowing what I wanted.

But he did.

No sooner had I thought it than Legolas caught me up in his warm embrace, gently tugging on my hair.

"Oh," he breathed suddenly, his voice in my ear. "I forgot to tell you."

"Tell me what?" I murmured.

"You dance very well," he replied, eyes glinting.

"I am glad it was to your liking, my prince," I whispered.

"You are always to my liking, Gianna," he said impishly, half-smiling.

"Goodness, what a scoundrel you are today," I said, almost dizzy from Legolas' unusually suggestive comments.

He only smiled. Actually, he almost smirked.

I suppressed an eye roll and tried to pull my boots on without any indication that I was ludicrously happy, and consequently could not keep a straight face.

But not for long, a voice in my mind whispered. Not for long...

******
As usual, Faewyn sat next to me as we had breakfast around a yellow fire which lent just enough warmth to the spring morning to keep everyone comfortable.

"We are to leave after breakfast," she commented, taking a bite of bread. "Towards Greenwood."

"How long will it take?" I asked, leaning back against a moss-covered boulder.

"If we simply walked, it would take another two weeks," Maldor answered, "Which is far too long."

"Lucky we have horses," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

"We actually do, Lady Gianna," said Gwithor. His arms were crossed as he stood next to a tree.

"Enough for all of us?" I asked skeptically. Including Maldor, Faewyn, Legolas, and myself, there were at least fifteen other elves who had met up with us in Mordor. It was unlikely that there would be that many spare horses for our use.

"Enough for five," Legolas said, turning and throwing another log on the fire. "Gwithor has volunteered to return with us rather than stay in Ithilien for a time."

"I must return to Greenwood regardless as I have a convoy to request after seeing what is wanting here," Gwithor replied, in rather bored voice. He was fully armored still, the hilt of a sword just barely protruding from the sheath on his back.

"Are you not from Lothlorien, Gwithor?" I asked him, recalling that it was Galadriel who had sent many elves behind us.

"I am not," he said, looking over, "but I serve as an envoy between both lands. King Thranduil and Lord Celeborn are both interested in expanding their respective borders and eventually joining together both our realms. As result, I spend equal time in the service of the Elvenking and of the Lady and Lord."

"He is originally from Greenwood," Faewyn commented, not looking up.

"Yes, thank you," Gwithor said sharply.

I looked at them both in surprise.

"Do not start with me," Faewyn snapped, tossing her raven hair. "Gianna asked a question."

"Which I answered!" the other elf said coldly.

"Faewyn," I said, aghast. "What...

"Gwithor is my cousin," she said irritably. "Which, I am sure, he would not like you to know."

"Does it matter now?" Gwithor said, raising an eyebrow. "Since you have already told everyone?"

"There is nothing to tell, Gwithor," she said, annoyed. "I cannot even fathom your reasoning for dredging this up now."

"Am I supposed to just forget that you cast me out of your family?" Gwithor scoffed. "Faewyn, if your father--"

"Could you leave him out of this?" she said, her eyes like cold steel. "It is hardly his fault you were too reckless to be trusted."

"Then whose is it?" Gwithor asked coolly, raising an eyebrow.

"There is no use arguing about the past," Legolas cut in, "Gwithor, if you believe you can stand riding alongside Faewyn, then ready your horse. We must ride soon or will lose valuable time."

Gwithor shot another look at Faewyn but inclined his head to Legolas and walked through the trees looking as composed as ever.

I must have been in shock, because I did not move for several seconds. Finally, still completely perplexed by what had just happened, I turned to Faewyn.

"What... was... that?"

She sighed. "He has always been so dramatic, but not without cause, I suppose. His father fell in the Battle of Mirkwood, and thereafter he saw my father-- his uncle-- as a second father. So did his other two brothers. We were as close as siblings, and often he would convince me to sneak out at night and go with him and his brothers. They enjoyed running around in the dark, getting lost on the old Forest Road and finding their way back. But it was not as safe then as it is now, and several times, we did not make it back by morning; they got more and more daring as the years passed. My father, horrified of what could happen to his daughter, always brought several of the guard with him to find us. After several similar incidences, we were attacked by an Orc raid near the old fortress and one of Gwithor's brothers was killed. My father is fortunate to have found us when he did, as he was out on a late patrol with several of his comrades and heard the commotion. He forbade Gwithor and Rhen-- his remaining brother-- from ever coming near us again."

"I did not know that Tirenion was Gwithor's brother," Legolas said, "I remember when that raid happened. It was tragic to lose an ellon so unexpectedly."

"How terrible," I said with a shudder, "But why does he direct his anger at you? It was not your fault, and besides that, it was over sixty years ago."

"Perhaps not," she shrugged. "I had originally hoped he would have forgotten his grudge that now goes against my entire family-- you know he fought with us against the Remnants, you were there. It seemed he had, but apparently not. I know it could not have been easy to be cast aside by my father but it was not without reason. When he was younger, he truly was foolish and rash with what he did."

"Do you see him often?" I asked. "He makes it seem that he has not seen you for years."

"He hasn't," Faewyn said wearily. "Somehow, he has avoided us all for years after. The fact that he is was sent here by Galadriel is purely coincidental, and I do not think anyone expected it."

"I am sorry," said Legolas, "If I would have known, I would not have suggested he ride with us."

"It is of little matter," Faewyn said mildly, "Do not burden yourself with it, Legolas."

He nodded at her and said something in a low voice to Maldor, who had been sitting impassively on a log nearby the entire time without saying anything.

"Faewyn, would you help bring the horses?" Maldor asked, getting up and putting whatever he was sorting (pebbles?) into a leather pouch.

She nodded and shot me a sunny smile before walking with Maldor through the trees.

Legolas approached me then; I knew he had wanted to see me alone as I could have just as easily accompanied Maldor to see about the horses.

"Your quiver, bow, and knives I had cleaned," said Legolas, handing me a leather wrapped bundle.

"How is it," I began, recalling that indeed, I had been missing the feeling of Almirae, "that you always manage to get my weapons without me noticing?"

"You let your guard down too much," Legolas said airily, "You are fortunate I mean you no harm."

"You are fortunate I see fit to let my guard down, then," I returned.

He smiled to himself as he turned away, and I slung my quiver onto my back.

"This knife is yours, actually," I commented, tapping the hilt on his shoulder.

"You can keep it until you no longer need it," Legolas replied, adjusting the strap on his own quiver. "Besides, you seem to need extra protection every time you are around me."

"I can't help it if you are trouble," I protested, looking at him with mock annoyance.

"Then do not let your guard down," Legolas said, a gleam in his eyes than had nothing to do with the morning sun.

I turned away. "Incorrigible," I muttered, tightening my belt. Legolas was laughing inaudibly behind me.

**********
Faewyn soon came cantering up on a bay stallion, with two more horses behind and Maldor bringing up the rear.

Astoundingly, one of them was Eärlin, who I figured had walked back to Gondor or Greenwood, not stayed in Ithilien.

He greeted me delightedly with a whinny.

"Hey," I murmured, patting his neck gently.

"That horse," said Legolas, shaking his head. He easily mounted a tall black mare and the four of us continued through the forest.

Gwithor rode out to meet us a few minutes later, also on a black horse, but gave no indication of his previous annoyance, greeting us all courteously.

He was strikingly impassive, with dark hair the same colour as Faewyn's and a rigid countenance, but perhaps now I thought I could see that he held back a great desire to prove himself.

As we all do, I thought.

We rode on, the sunlight dappled on the leaves, and Legolas halted for a moment to inform one of the elves there of a message to Lady Gwileth.

"I have decided to accept the council's proposal," Legolas said to us, as he rejoined our small group. "Perhaps it will serve them well."

"I am sure that it will," Faewyn replied.

"Does that mean that you must live in Ithilien for longer periods of time, now that you will lead the elves here?" I asked, riding up next to him.

"On some occasions, most likely," Legolas said. "There is a certain convenience to being present when giving orders." He smiled dryly.

I laughed. "A small advantage, that is."

"Quite true," he replied good-naturedly, "For if you are not present, who will care?"

Though obviously his words had been a jest towards his future position, I still suddenly recalled my encounter with the Valar.

If I am not present, who will care?

That seemed a heavy question to me.