Hey, everyone! This chapter was supposed to be a bit longer, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting longer than you already have.

Chapter 12: A King's Decision

"This is a declaration of war!" shouted one elf amidst the cries of his kin. Like a great wave of green and brown, all of Thranduil's subjects had flooded into the great hall, washing over the floors and splashing onto the galleries above, filling even the narrowest corner. From the gallery where I was standing, I could barely make out a single face in the crowd, and those I could were unfamiliar to me.

Wood-elves, I learned, were more reclusive and wild than their Eastern kin, and upon their return to Middle-earth, many chose live among the trees, far from the elf-king's halls. They returned only after receiving word of Castien's death, and now they had a lot to say. I couldn't understand most of it, as they spoke little of the Common Tongue, but it didn't sound pleasant. Honestly, they sounded a bit like war cries. War cries from elves I always thought to be peaceful.

"Soon, they will march on this forest!" yelled another elf from the gallery. "The dwarves already spoke of this! They said this would happen!"

"They mean to destroy the forest," said a woman. "They have already burned down the southern wood. There, where our homes once stood, lies a city that holds hobbits as slaves. The air is polluted with black smoke that is bringing a sickness to the wood."

"Men are poisoning this land!"

"And now they have drawn their swords on us!"

Before he lost control of his court, Thranduil raised his hand to silence everyone, and his subjects obeyed. Then he said, "We must not make baseless accusations. We still do not know the nature of this attack. It may have been an accident, a simple misunderstanding."

"An accident?" said Sanya in a hoarse voice, her throat raw from screaming and sobbing. The crowd parted, and she climbed the stairs to the platform on which her father's throne stood, leaving a trail of bloody shoe prints in her wake. Her dress, once a brilliant silver, was soaked with blood, the same blood that was drying on her hands and smearing her face when she tried to wipe away her tears.

She'd been told to rest, that this council would be too painful for her, but she came anyway, and she said to the elf-king, "You mean to tell me that someone accidentally shoved a sword through Castien's stomach? Father, you are not so foolish. You know this was not an accident. This was an attack on us—" She broke off as her voice started to crack. "They are monsters," she rasped, "all of them. Their hands can only bring death and destruction."

Stepping away from the king's side, Legolas went to his elder sister and gently took her shoulders. I couldn't hear what he was saying to her, but it didn't seem to be calming her down, whatever it was, because she suddenly pulled away from him and slapped him across the face, leaving a smudged red hand print on his cheek.

"This is your fault!" Sanya shouted at him. "Castien's blood is on your hands." And then she took her bloody palms and rubbed them all over his clothes, over and over. And then her hands balled into fists, and she started pounding against his chest as hard as she could. He took blow after blow until she finally lost all her strength and collapsed against his chest. "He is gone, Legolas!" she cried. "He is gone!"

Shortly after, the queen arrived to console her daughter and take her out of the great hall. The fair elf-princess fought her at first, saying she didn't want to leave, but eventually she left with her mother; and as she descended the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder to meet my gaze. Her blue eyes pierced into me like a dagger, forcing me to cast my eyes away.

Elrohir was next to ascend the bloody stairs. "This attack was not the first, I'm afraid," he said. "Last week, a group of our people was attacked on the Great East Road. Only one survived, a young boy, but he is still in very critical condition. He remembers little of what happened, but he recalls seeing a coat of arms. A golden fox in a field of crimson, he said."

A golden fox? I thought. I know of no house with that crest.

"And just days ago," Elrohir went on, "a ship bearing elves was seized on its way to the Grey Havens. We suspect that all on board have either been killed or taken captive. The harbor is lost."

The elf-king sank deep into his chair. "And what does your brother make of this?"

"He fears war may soon be upon us."

My heart sank at those words. War? Did he really mean that? The Reunited Kingdom would never survive another war. The people were still recovering from Valmoria's plague. But what could I do? What could I say? The cool cavern air was thick with wartime feeling, and even Legolas seemed to be affected by it.

"If war is indeed upon us, then we must be ready," he said in a voice I'd never heard before, like that of a soldier. He kept glancing at his king father, as if he was trying to gain his esteem. "They cannot defeat us in battle. Our numbers may be smaller, but our strength is greater."

The hall erupted into cheers then, and I quickly slipped down from the gallery, intending to follow Elrohir, who had exited the hall just moments before. With every step I took, I was met by a wall of elven resistance that I had to push and squeeze through, but I eventually broke free of the crowd and ran in the direction Elrohir had gone.

"Elrohir!" I called upon exiting Thranduil's halls. The elf was walking his horse out of the king's stables by the time I reached him, and I was so tired by then I could barely speak. "Did ... Did you really mean what you said? Will there be war?"

"I don't know, Anariel," he answered with a deep frown. "I hope it doesn't come to that, but I don't know."

"I just can't imagine Elladan declaring war on anyone."

"Of course he doesn't want war. Nobody does. But Elladan has a great burden on his shoulders right now. He is responsible for many lives."

"I know, but—"

"I'm sorry, Anariel," he said upon mounting his horse, "I wish I could stay for the feast, but I must go. I must return to Rivendell." Then he whispered something into his horse's ear, something that made it start to move across the bridge slowly.

"Elrohir," I said as I walked alongside his horse, but the animal's pace was quickly becoming too fast for me. "Elrohir, wait!" I tried my best to keep up, but then the horse suddenly broke into a brisk gallop, leaving me in its dust.

Desperately, I continued my pursuit through the dense forest even though I knew it would be in vain. "Elrohir!" I yelled. "Elrohir, please!"

Gasping with exhaustion, I dropped to my knees in the middle of the forest. "Please," I begged, "tell me what's happening. I just want to know."

In the distance, I could hear the soft thud of horse hooves trampling the dirt, but soon that too disappeared, and then I could hear nothing, not even the gentle whistle of the wind. For the first time in a long time, the forest was silent, and I felt like I was all alone.

"Everything is about to change," I muttered. "The days of peace will soon be over."

I gazed sadly at the flowering trees, trees that had just years ago seemed lost to an everlasting slumber. Middle-earth was finally becoming beautiful again: the forests were blossoming with life and the rivers were flowing with blue, sparkling water. But all that beauty would be destroyed by another war, and it would never come back. I saw my tree, a tree I had climbed dozens of times, beginning to shed its green leaves once more. One by one they started to fall like rain drops, drying and shriveling up once they hit the ground. That's how I knew Middle-earth wouldn't survive.

As I made my way back to the elf-king's halls, I noticed something lying on the ground, partly hidden beneath a pile of dry leaves. Brushing away the leaves with my hand, I discovered Castien's wooden harp, covered with dirt but perfectly intact.

With gentle hands, I picked it up and dusted off the dirt. Sanya would have wanted it, I knew, so it seemed only right to bring it to her.

After entering Thranduil's halls, I found the elf-princess in the highest chamber of the mountain keep, a chamber so high it seemed to reach all the way up to the sky. When the soft grey mists rolled over the mountain peaks, they almost looked like clouds.

In this chamber, which was warm and full of light, Sanya stood over her deceased lover, who lay still upon a slab of cold stone. With a bucket of water at her side and a soft cloth in her hand, Sanya began to wash away all the dried blood and dirt from his body in preparation for his funeral. Tomorrow, they would travel east and send him down the Great River, which would then carry him all the way to the Great Sea.

"This has always been his favorite room," she said. "When we were young, he used to bring me up here and tell me the names of all the stars in the sky. That sounds impossible, but he could do it. Everything came easily to him, and he never worried about anything. I suppose I worried enough for the both of us, though."

She chuckled quietly to herself, but as her hand found its way to the fatal wound on Castien's stomach, her laughter stopped.

"But he is gone now," she went on. "There is no color in his cheeks and the light has left his eyes." She lightly caressed his jaw with her fingertips. "His body is broken and his spirit is gone."

"But not forever," I blurted out. "He will go to the Halls of Mandos, and soon he will be re-embodied, and you will be reunited."

"So reading a few books has made you an expert on the fate of my people? How impressive. Tell me, does it say in those books of yours how long that process can take? – No? Well, allow me to educate you. It can take years, hundreds maybe even thousands, for a spirit to be re-embodied, if it happens at all. Until then, I can only wait, ... or perhaps Nienna will take pity on me and allow me to join him now."

My eyes widened. "You cannot mean ...! Castien would never want that for you!"

"And how would you know what he wants? You barely knew him!"

"Yes, but—"

"Leave me to my grief!" Sanya ordered, and then she dipped her cloth back into the bucket and started to wash him again. "You are the last person I want in my company."

"Sanya ..." I stepped forward, intending to give her Castien's harp, but again she told me to leave, so I did as I was told and, before leaving, placed the harp beside the doorway.

Down I walked, descending the spiraling stone stairway that the elves had carved to resemble a tree. It's great branches served as bridges that extended throughout the entire cave. I stopped after reaching one of these bridges and sat myself upon it, not to rest but to think. Even now, with everything that was happening, Turin was at the center of my thoughts. All the bridges in my mind led straight to him.

Most of all, I hoped he was safe, and that he would stay safe.

"What are you doing all the way up here?" Legolas asked, making me jump a little. If I had been any closer to the edge, I would have probably fallen straight to my death, but not before breaking all the bones in my body. Thankfully, I was not so foolish as to sit on the very edge of a bridge.

"I am preparing my mind for war," I dryly replied. "Are we to be enemies now, Legolas? Should we battle right here in your father's halls? The great hall, perhaps? Let me fetch my sword."

"You should not jest," he said. "This is a very serious matter."

"You think I don't know that? I may have never experienced war myself, but I do understand the consequences of it. This kingdom will be torn apart. People will die, innocent people, and Turin—" The reality of his situation hadn't completely sunken in until I'd said those words. "He's just a silly boy. He's not ready for all this. I'm not ready for this."

"You do not have to be," he said.

"Everyone must be ready."

"Not you. Tomorrow, many elves, my mother and sisters among them, will be traveling north, to the Far North, further than you have ever gone, where they will then sail across the Sea and return to Aman. My father has secured a place for you on one of the boats. You will sail to Aman and live there in peace until this war is over, and then I will return to you, and we will be married."

I could hardly believe my ears. After years of desiring paradise, I was finally being permitted to go where few men were able to go, to a place that was beautiful and ever-green, free of the woes of the world. I should have been happy, and yet I wasn't, not at all, because while I would be sailing off to paradise, my family and Turin would remain in Middle-earth. I would never see them again.

"You would have me leave?" I said, and the words left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"I would have you live."

I sighed. "Then it is decided," I went on as I rose to my feet. "You will not have me at all."

Before he could say another word, I pulled the silver ring off my finger and placed it in his hand.

"Anariel, what are you doing?" he asked, his blue eyes writhing with pain like I had just stabbed him in the heart.

"Middle-earth is my home, Legolas. I cannot abandon it so easily as you."

I strode past him then and started down the stairs, leaving him standing alone on the bridge, clutching my ring in his hand.

"Anariel!" he called. "Anariel, wait!"

I'm sorry, Legolas, I would have said, but elves do not marry in times of war, and I fear our people will be at war for a very long time.

I know, it was a pretty short chapter, but now the story's about to take off, so I hope you keep reading!

Until next time!

If you guys want me to update more frequently, nothing motivates me more than reviews!

Update as of 6/15/2014: This story is on hold until further notice. Due to a decline in readership and reviews, I've decided to focus my time on another story. Now, I'm not deleting this story, but it probably won't be updated for a while.

Update as of 1/25/2015: I'm currently in the process of revising this story. Once that's finished, I will begin working on new chapters. Thanks for all your patience and support.

Update as of 3/29/2015: I've just finished the revisions and will begin working on the next chapter soon. Sorry for the wait!