Mistril could hardly walk without losing consciousness so she let her whole weight onto Legolas, who was half carrying her into the basement. Gweluven was on her other side, carrying Illion bridal-style since his knee had just been snapped.
"He's so...so angry," Mistril gasped, her eyes burning.
She wasn't aware but her mark burned so badly into her flesh that even Legolas could feel it. He couldn't help but glance at it every so often on the way and remember his father's words. Once he grew more aware of the world, he accepted that his father was right, she was returned to Arda in order to be punished, and stumbling upon her was pure luck. But he still respected and loved her very much, she encouraged him to learn and experience the world outside the forest and she gave him something he had always craved: she was genuine with him, she got mad at him when he deserved it and she praised him when he needed. Mistril was very important to Legolas, she wasn't just the elleth he had saved.
Once they arrived in the healing rooms, Mistril sat on the bed and allowed the elves to chain her to it. When Lord Celeborn came into sight she could feel this sudden wave of annoyance fall over her. She growled at him like an orc and watched as he moved around, knowing that if she truly wanted to, she could kill them all, chains still around her hands.
"Do you really believe I can be kept down here now that he called for me?" She asked through gritted teeth. "You are weak. You don't know what is happening in the world."
Miluinir was the most shocked elf in the room. He had known Mistril to be very calm from the moment he found her awake in the Halls. That image was crumbling as she continued to show them her true colors.
"Give her something to calm down and keep an eye on her. Be wary even when she is asleep." Celeborn said before he signed for Gweluven to put Illion in a different room. "She is incredibly dangerous so be careful."
"How dangerous can she be, though? We are in Lorien." Was the question many young elves were wondering but only Elrohir had the courage to ask.
"She could kill us all in a matter of minutes," Celeborn answered before he left.
Elrohir and Elladan glanced at each other before they turned to Legolas. The wood elf looked like he was ready to chain himself to her.
"You know what this means, right?" Elladan started, "He has returned. No, he didn't even leave. We were naïve to think peace will be kept forever."
"She will not go to him. She has someone she can hold onto this time." Arwen sounded very sure for someone who had only recently met Mistril.
For most elves, that reason was Legolas. For many years they believed Legolas, her savior, was that glint of happiness that she needed in order to be saved. They weren't wrong but they weren't completely right either.
That night Legolas chose to sleep by her side. Mistril was heavily sedated and looked like she was dead.
"It's such a sad sight. He took it upon himself to guard us against her." Mumbled Miluinir as he stood in the doorway with his mentor.
"Is he really? Look at the way he grasps her hand, at the way he fell asleep facing her...he is protecting her from us. He found her to begin with so who are we to damage this person he brought back to life?" Gweluven explained, smiling softly when he noticed her waking up.
Mistril opened her eyes and figured there was something a lot heavier than a chain around her. She looked down and sighed as she saw the platinum blond hair of her favorite elf. She could barely get her hand out from his grasp and softly caress his forehead. She was old enough to be his mother but she preferred not to think of it like that. It made her feel bad for herself, for letting herself hope for a good future. Noticing the clarity of her marks and the way they seemed to taunt her, Mistril moved her head so that she was facing up. The ceiling was white but if she closed her eyes, it was all red.
"Will she be alright? Will we be safe?" Elladan asked his brother as they sat in the garden of Lady Galadriel's house. Arwen was on the bench while Elrohir was pacing around with a thoughtful expression. Elladan was picking grass, his own mind bothered by what he had seen. "I can't believe we saw the Shadow."
"Whether we like it or not the Shadow is part of her. It was probably her only identity, the only thing she knew back then. But she has us now. I'm sure father would say the same thing." Elrohir commented making his sister smile proudly.
"What about Lady Galadriel? We're in her land right now, not in Imladris." Elladan added pondering on a rock he found.
"The Lady knows that Mistril would never harm any of us."
"Tell that to Illion. He has a fractured leg and cannot fight or even walk for a while." Elladan added with a frown. He couldn't believe how easy and quick it was for Mistril to take control of the fight and turn it in her favor.
Arwen narrowed her eyes at her brother and scoffed.
"He had it coming. He shouldn't have egged her on." She replied, "Mistril can control herself. She has a strong reason to fight against her darkness."
"Legolas. He seems to be the only one able to keep her conscious." Elrohir approved with a nod. As long as Legolas was around, there was a chance for her, or else they had to call for Glorfindel, and even that option had uncertain outcomes.
Arwen looked down at her hands and thought about the real reason Mistril was ardently fighting to keep herself normal. Love was such a strong catalyst.
"What do you mean the king has a headache? He was perfectly fine just a few hours ago." Hinnorbes asked Tudor who informed her just in case. "And why do you look so bad? Have you been fighting every day?"
Tudor blinked and looked at his hands. His fingers were bleeding and he had a lot of dirt under his nails. His legs and arms were slightly trembling and his whole attire looked like he has been living in a wild land.
"Don't ask and don't tell anyone else about the king. I know because I witnessed it, so don't bother him," Tudor chose to ignore the questions about his shape. It was better for people who were not military to go on with their usual lives and not know what was happening outside the borders.
"The King has been lost in his thoughts ever since lord Glorfindel's last visit," Hinnorbes changed the subject. "I wonder if it is about lady Mistril. King Thranduil has been melancholic ever since he received that gift from her."
"You mean the drawing in the library? It's very realistic, she really caught his essence." Tudor said remembering the last time he saw it. Nobody expected him to frame it and put it in such an honorable place, moreover, have Thranduil stare at it from time to time with nostalgia. "Do you think that maybe Thranduil has deeper feelings for Mistril than he wants to admit?" He suddenly asked.
Hinnorbes stopped and looked at him with wide eyes. Of course, that could explain a lot of his mood changes and glances at the gate.
"When there is a deep connection between two elves, sometimes it gets so strong that if something happens to one of them the other gets affected as well. Maybe that is why he has a headache..." she said, finishing the disinfection and applying ointment on Tudor's arms. "I'll go check on him now," she added and left the archer all by himself.
Only a few minutes later the door opened and Faervel barged in with an arrow still stuck in his abdomen.
"Where is Hinnorbes?" The commander asked as he sat on the bed. "Call her, or any other healer for that matter." He instructed Tudor.
An hour later, with his wound patched up and resting in his own bed, Faervel sighed heavily. The forest was being poisoned by evil and no matter how much he tried to keep it as far as possible from the Wooden Realm, it was getting worse.
"Sir," Tudor walked in with Faervel's son, who was just as tired as his father. "There are more and more orcs going to Dol Guldur. The number doubled over the last month. Something must be done,"
"And what do you want me to do? We already asked a few more guards to be part of our brigade. If I tell Thranduil, he'll only enforce the borders and eventually make everyone move into the Halls. We need to fight back not retreat." He said in a stern tone.
"What about lord Glorfindel," his son started. "He must have told lord Elrond about our problem."
"He did but Elrond is busy enough with his own land. He can only send a few men to assist us but that's not enough. We don't need a war."
"We don't but the dwarves are ready to awaken a dragon in order to take back Erebor," Tudor said taking a step forwards. "What about them? They will come through Mirkwood soon and from what I heard, they have a wizard and a hobbit with them."
"A hobbit?" Faervel asked with a raised eyebrow. "Where are they exactly?"
Tudor shrugged and looked at Faervel's son, who shrugged in response.
"We have the spiders and the fortress to worry about. A few dwarves and their friends automatically take second place on our scale of high risk. Father, someone has to enter Dol Guldur and inform us of what is truly happening there."
Faervel and Tudor glanced at each other, the latter growing pale at the mere thought of setting foot near that place.
"Not yet. Let's deal with the dwarves first, see how much ruckus they will cause and maybe we won't have to go in. I'm sure evil has eyes everywhere and also knows about their company." Faervel said and laid back as a sign for the two to leave.
Thranduil was lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling with a confused expression. His headaches began soon after Legolas left for Lothlorien and yet they intensified a few hours ago. The pain was so strong, it was just as if someone was banging onto the door of his mind, so hard that his whole head was vibrating. He wondered if it was because of Mistril and the link she created towards him but it felt as if this immense force was not coming from her.
A knock interrupted his daydream and with more or less care, he answered.
"Enter," he said, his head pounding even harder when he spoke.
"I'm sorry, my lord, but I heard of your headache and prepared a calming potion for you." Hinnorbes started as she took a few steps inside his room.
Thranduil looked at her and unconsciously frowned. Hinnorbes' figure was so fragile and feminine compared to Mistril's warrior form and she made a lot of noise as she moved around. He tried his best to ignore her haunting presence and turned his attention to his healer, who was busy mixing some herbs before pouring the liquid into a vial.
"What are you doing Hinnorbes? And who told you I have a headache?" He asked, visibly uncomfortable.
"If you drink it, it will not only calm your pain but also lady Mistril's. If you two are indeed connected by a strong bond, you feel her pain. If it is so, she will also feel your ease." She continued before she placed the vial on the bed and left with a bow.
Thranduil stared at the little container and sighed. He did take the medicine and was able to fall asleep thanks to it. But the next morning he woke up with a jolt, his ears ringing and head spinning. Whatever was going on in Lothlorien, he really hoped it would stop already.
But the evil was gaining more and more power and Mistril's condition was growing worse. Gweluven shuddered when the Shadow of Angmar glared at him while still chained to the bed.
"You do know what this means, don't you?" Gweluven asked Lord Celeborn once they left the healing rooms. "She is not suddenly having these fits out of desire."
"No, she is not,"
Gweluven frowned as Lady Galadriel entered her own home. She walked past the healer and went to her husband, having a silent agreement before she continued.
"Evil is at work in Dol Guldur. The forest of Mirkwood is being assaulted by monsters." She looked up at Legolas, who just entered when the subject touched his home. "But the wood elves are prepared, I see." She added with a smile as she peaked inside the prince's mind.
"How can we help you, Legolas?" Lord Celeborn asked after a few minutes of silence. He knew that his wife had already found enough information from the way she was staring at the young prince but the others did not.
"I want to take Mistril to Mirkwood. The years she spent with us were peaceful and happy, unlike her stay in Imladris and Lothlorien. Gweluven can tend to her and-"
"No," was Galadriel's quick answer. "I know you care for her but she cannot return to Mirkwood. Not now, not ever."
