Thank you, everyone who reviewed! I love hearing your thoughts and feelings on the chapters, and it is so fun to see people speculating what might be happening, whether or not it's correct. I'm sorry for the delay between the chapters. I can't promise I'll have more frequent posts, but at least know that I am trying.
On that note, I now have a beta! The wonderful and illustrious tSionainn (Pronounced Shannon. She prefers the Gaelic spelling.), who I'm pleased to now be working together with on this story! She's been a kindred spirit right from the first couple messages. I hope for us to be life long friends, and I am so excited, and thoroughly looking forward to the very long journey ahead that we're going to share with this story.
We will be going through the already posted content, making a few minor alterations/touch-ups, and re-posting that at some point in the future.
So you all can look forward to that as well.

As always, I welcome all constructive criticism, and reviews help keep me motivated, so feel free to comment/review with your thoughts, questions, concerns, or miscellaneous musings.

Thank you to my new beta, tSionainn, for helping to edit this chapter!
Happy reading!

Awareness happened slowly, just a vague realization that it was dark and I was warm. Then pin pricks of white began to appear in my vision. As more and more white specks materialized, the faint sound of a voice began to come through.

I recognized that voice.

I'd been hearing it for months, whispering darkness into my mind. With the voice and the white came a creeping feeling of bitter cold and unease. I took a few steps forward, trying to find my way out of the blinding white, and as it overtook everything, I realized where I was.

It was the mountain pass that the fellowship tried to traverse before turning to Moria.

I looked around frantically, trying to find someone, anyone from the fellowship, to reassure myself that I wasn't alone here with that horrible voice. That no one was hurt.

On one side of me was a steep, snow-covered mountainside, and on the other, a sheer cliff dropped away into nothing. The path I was on was thin and each step that took me closer to the edge was slowed by the building layer of snow on the ground. One moment bled into the next and the more I searched, the worse I felt.

Because there wasn't anyone else here with me, but there were items. Items belonging to each of the fellowship, buried in the ever growing layers of snow and ice. Weapons, backpacks, torn cloaks.

They all looked like they had been dropped in an effort to hold on or regain balance, and around them were marks in the snow. Disturbed snow and blood. Evidence that something horrible had happened; that they had fallen. Despite the ever falling snow, the marks were not covered, staying stark and apparent for me to see where I had failed to save my friends.

The voice became an angry yell, a thunderous crack ringing out around the mountain as the sounds of an avalanche began to form.

I cried out, cringing towards the side of the mountain, arms thrown up in the vain hope of protecting myself as I shivered violently.

The cold was unbearable. A million tiny knives of ice stabbing me, seeming to drive through my skin, right into my heart and soul. Tears fell and froze upon my face for my fallen companions. I'd failed them. Everything would have been fine if I had just not been there, but now..? Now all was lost.

I could do nothing but huddle against the mountain, shaking. Fear, panic, and loss rendered me incapable of movement.

Then a second voice began to speak, followed by a third, and a fourth, and with them, came a warm breeze. A slow growing sense of safety.

As if in competition, the first voice rose in volume, echoed with thunder and flashes of horrible lightning, determined not to give up its hold.

The battle raged on for ages, each moment dragging into the next, my huddled form buffeted by raging cold and soothed by comforting warmth in seemingly equal measure.

The first voice fell away haltingly, losing intensity, drowned out by the other combination of voices, and with it the cold feeling started to fade. The snow around me melted slowly, tiny pinpricks of green pushing out of the ground.

My eyes scoured my surroundings. Was it over?

This had never happened before. Despite the encompassing feeling of safety, I couldn't help but feel that something was very wrong.

Slowly, still hampered by the lingering chill in my bones, I rose, leaning heavily on the side of the mountain. Maybe there was hope yet. Maybe they hadn't fallen very far? Or, if worse came to worst and they were truly gone, maybe I could still try to complete the quest on my own? Many would still die without the fellowship to intervene, but maybe with my knowledge I could still complete the main focus of the quest.

As if in one last ditch effort, the first voice sprang up sending a shock of pain through my head, and my surroundings changed. Darkness. Not the dark of a restful sleep or a silent night, but the dark woven with monsters and horror, slinking demons concealed in the shadows, and the cold brush of unease. The mountainside that I leaned on fell away, and I with it. It was a momentary fall, but in the darkness I could see no salvation, nothing to grab hold of, no hope to keep me safe.

I landed in a sprawl, cold stone bruising my skin. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Around me rose four razor edged points of black stone, framing a small circular landing, and beneath my fingers I could feel some sort of lines etched into the stone.

The wind blowing as it was, I dared not stand for fear of falling. I crawled over to the edge carefully, breath catching for a moment when the land spread out before me. It was a familiar sight, though the last time I saw it was after leaving Fangorn forest. A great wall of stone, set in a large ring around the tower. Filled with fruitful trees, paths, and small streams fed from the mountains.

I backed away from the edge, fear worming its way into my heart. This was Orthanc. Orthanc before Saruman corrupted it. Before he killed the trees to create his armies. How did I get here? Did Saruman know I was here?

As if in answer the voices returned, one by one, slowly growing in volume to be heard over the blowing wind.

The first voice was the most noticeable, the strongest, though it was softer now. It was no less powerful, but the tone was different. Smooth and friendly, provoking recent memories of the voice that had accompanied me since entering Middle Earth. It was familiar now—recognizable. And though I had yet to hear his voice in person, I knew it belonged to Saruman.

Drawn by his words, I slowly stood, making my way to the center of the stone landing. His voice encompassed everything. It was in the air I breathed, in the stone I stood upon, in the wind that gently pushed me towards the edge to look out over the land. I couldn't understand the specific words he spoke, and yet still, I knew what he was trying to communicate to me.

The land stretched out before me and I could feel that he claimed it as his, that I was to rule with him. I couldn't help but catch myself wondering how it could be bad if said with such a kind voice. All I had to do to claim this reward was to continue walking forward. Accept his aid and offer my knowledge in return. It would be so simple to enter his realm and accept the gifts he offered.

My mind caught on that and I stumbled, catching myself against one of the stone claws that extended from the tower. Pain stung through me as the razor edge sliced into my hand, and with the pain the fog lifted and my mind cleared.

He was trying to get me to walk off the tower. He was trying to kill me.

Before me where there once was a lush, green paradise, now was laid bare, lit only by the fires of trees turned to fuel. Around me, Saruman's voice raged, no longer kind, as if he could feel that his grasp had loosened. The wind that had been so gentle before now dashed around me, snatching and grabbing at my form in an attempt to push me over the edge of the tower.

I forced myself back towards the center of the landing, fighting against the gales that attacked me the entire way. Huddling in the center, I dug my fingers as much as I could into the etched markings in the landing, looking for anything I could find to hold onto.

A phantom hand brushed across my forehead and the winds softened as if blocked by some invisible force. With it, the second voice rose up, and this time, there was something familiar about it. Kind and caring, an almost fatherly tone of protectiveness.

It was Elrond, speaking in the smooth tones of Sindarin. His voice seemed to wrap around my mind, and the longer I heard his voice, the more clear my thoughts became. It was as if that was all it took to break the dam and bring true clarity.

With the fog gone, it was only moments before each voice became truly recognizable; Saruman, trying to beat me down and take over my mind; Elrond and Glorfindel, protecting and healing my mind and body; and Gandalf, pushing out Saruman's influence.

Tremors ran through the tower from the force of their voices, cracks starting to form in the awful onyx claws and working their way down to the landing that I knelt upon. I cringed, running my hands frantically over the ground as I searched for the trap door that I knew was supposed to be here. Cracks and fractures were all I found, and the longer I searched without success, the less hope I had. Whatever was going on, however I had arrived here, this was the end.

Gales blew around me, sometimes reaching past the influence of my protectors, but more often than not being blocked by the invisible force that was the woven voices of my protectors.

I breathed in a slow, steadying breath. They had to know that it was useless, at this point—they had to know that I wasn't going to make it.

Shards of pure black stone started raining down as the tower crumbled from the top down, few making it past the protection I was being given.

Despite the chaos around me, a strange sense of peace settled over me as I looked out over the land around the tower. The sun was barely rising, shining fingers of gold reaching over the land, gilding the destruction that Saruman had wrought. It was beautiful, in a way. As if the land was trying to tell me that even without me, everything would work out.

The shaking of the tower fell into the background, the voices fading from my perception. I let my eyes close slowly, basking in the meager warmth the sun provided. It wasn't a horrible way to die, overall. It could be worse.

A soft hand brushed against my forehead, a quiet voice whispering, "Everything is okay now. Rest. When you awake, you'll be free."

The sweet call of sleep followed the whispered voice, and darkness took me again.

This time it was quiet. Peaceful. A deep, untroubled sleep.

For a long time I slept, remaining serenely unaware of the world around me. A number of times the grip of sleep lessened enough for me to swim my way to the surface, but only for a few hazy moments each time before it pulled me back under. I could scarcely muster up the energy to even open my eyes, let alone stay awake.

Once, it was to the feeling of someone combing and braiding my hair, then a while later to gentle fingers pressing against and around the wound on my head. Another time, I awoke enough to recognize soft voices speaking in Sindarin around me, though the musical sound of it quickly lulled me back to sleep.

As the moments grew longer and more frequent, I started to recognize more of what it was I was hearing or blearily seeing, though it was all muted as if through thick glass, or a layer of water.

Arwen singing softly, fingers brushing some sort of ointment onto one side of my face.

The hobbits, singularly or in pairs, speaking quietly about what they'd done in training that day, a delicious treat they'd found in the kitchen, or some dancing in the Hall of Fire that I'd missed out on, someone gently hushing them if their voices grew too far above a moderate volume.

Gandalf's gruff voice fished me out of sleep once, speaking softly over me to another that I could not identify, and despite developing a slight inkling of curiosity, I could not remain aloft long enough to hear a reply.

And always there was Legolas, his voice weaving through the dark of the void like threads of silk, in the background each time I awoke. A comforting, and seemingly constant presence of safety, often accompanied with the warmth of a hand around my own.

It was to this presence that I finally awoke to a full extent, slowly floating my way up from the void that had so thoroughly encompassed me previously. Warmth was the first thing I recognized, followed closely by a feeling of complete and utter relaxation, of which I had not known since even before arriving in Middle Earth.

I basked in it for a long moment. I felt good. None of my muscles ached. The ever present bone-deep fatigue was completely gone, replaced by a much more bearable feeling of drowsiness that might accompany the tail end of an illness.

I allowed my eyes to open gradually, determined to thoroughly enjoy this feeling. I was in my bedroom. It was mostly dark, dimly lit by a single candle set on the bedside table, though, beside the table sat a rather large, comfortable looking settee that I was very sure had never been in my bedroom before.

It was made up of an ornately carved wooden structure, covered with long, plush cushions that were layered in varying shades of green fabric, and there were a number of varying sized pillows tucked at the end closest to me.

Inhabiting the chair was Legolas, his hair spilling over the side of the settee that he reclined on, shining like a thousand threads of pure silver. He was angled so as to have the best light from the candle, one leg stretching out, the other slightly propped up and supporting a book that was cradled partially in one hand.

My heart quickened a little bit. He was just too damn beautiful, and the way the candle light danced across his features was practically poetic. It was almost worse having to experience that level of beauty now, with the muting barrier of fatigue gone.

I remembered in a vague sort of sense what had happened since I'd last seen him. There was something about the forest, and I had sustained an injury, but my memories of the situation were blurred and disoriented, which alarmed me greatly. What if I had said something that wasn't supposed to be revealed? What if that knowledge caused hesitation, or a lack thereof, and had disastrous consequences?

I watched the candle glint off his hair for a moment, forcing my thoughts to calm. Whatever had happened, I could surely work with it. Probably.

The longer I watched him, the more it seemed as if he wasn't truly reading. His head leaned slightly to the side, braced by the raised and cushioned back of the settee, and though I could see that his eyes were open, he seemed to simply be staring at the contents of the book, never turning the page or even moving at all save for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Slowly and ever so carefully, I propped myself up on my elbows, trying to be as quiet as possible. Was he sleeping? Lost in thought? Or perhaps just studying whatever the contents of the book were in extreme detail?

I turned partially onto my side, pushing myself up a bit further to see if I could determine an answer to my curiosity.

The movement, careful though it was, seemed to draw him from the stillness that had overtaken him, and his eyes met mine, a look of relief passing over his face. "Alyssa..."

He set his book down, turning to face me and moving over to sit on the edge of my bed, hands grasped around one of mine. "Are you alright? Do you need anything?", he reached a hand forward, brushing a bit of hair off my forehead and tucking it behind my ear, "How do you feel?"

Sitting before me as he was, the amber candle light shone on him, flickering and causing shadows that somehow both intensified and softened his expression, and my breath caught for a moment. "I... I'm ... really good. I'm not tired, or sore… I just feel really good."

How long had it been since I felt this good? Against my wishes, tears gathered in my eyes, and my breath hitched slightly. I dashed at them angrily, trying and failing to control my breathing. What a stupid thing to cry about!

Cool fingers caught my hand, then moved to brush the tears away, and I looked up to find Legolas wearing an expression of concern. "Is something wrong? Do you need me to get Elrond for you?"

Something ached in me at his kindness, and for a moment, I was tempted to push his hand away and put some distance between us. What right did I have to accept such kindness after the way I'd treated him up to this point? Snapping, keeping secrets, breaking promises…

I refrained, knowing that it would most likely only alarm him further.

"No, Legolas, no, that's not necessary. Everything is fine." Saying it just made it more real in my mind. Was I experiencing soreness? Yes. But pain? There was no real pain.

A sob crawled it's way out of me and I shook my head, pressing my hands to my eyes. "I'm sorry. It's stupid... It's just been a while since I've felt good like this. I don't know why I'm crying. I swear, nothing hurts. I just need a minute to calm down."

The bed shifted slightly, and a moment later his arms encircled me, tugging me against his chest. It was becoming a disturbingly familiar feeling, to be held like this by him, and it made the ache intensify, knowing that it wasn't–and would likely never be–meant in the way I wanted.

He ran a few fingers in a soothing motion across my hair, voice soft when he spoke. "Shhh... Hush now. 'Tis not a silly thing to cry for at all. I think it's a wonderful thing to cry for. You've had so much to bear for so long, it's no surprise that you're relieved."

I sniffled a bit, finding that even just being held helped the tears slow, and then cease. Despite this, I couldn't quite stop the slight tremble in my voice when I spoke a few minutes later. "Legolas... What happened?"

His fingers paused for a moment in their soothing caress before carefully resuming. His voice sounded almost cautious in its reply, "What do you remember?"

It took me longer than I liked to push past what I could of the blurred fog that encompassed most of my recent memories. "I remember a little bit. I left the party. I think I felt like I didn't belong here, I just needed to breathe, so I ... left Rivendell." I paused for a moment to consider what to share. He didn't need to know how strong the voice had been that night. It would only concern him more. "I felt like I was asleep, or not really ... present? But then it started raining, and that kind of woke me up. When I realized I was lost, I decided to climb a tree to help me find my way back... I remember the moonlight reflecting off the raindrops; they were covering the treetops like stars... But after that it's all kind of fuzzy. I think I fell. And then ... you found me and brought me back?"

I had a vague recollection that we'd talked about something, but whatever the topic, it adamantly remained buried in the fog that concealed the details of my memories. "That's the part I'm not really sure about. How did you know to look for me? I don't think I told anyone that I was leaving..."

"We made plans to share a meal together the day after the party. Do you remember?" At my nod, he continued, "You weren't in your room when I went to find you. When I discovered the note on your bed claiming that you'd gone for a walk, I thought it rather odd. I spoke to a few people in my search for you, but no one had seen you since the previous night. On my way out to look for you in the Hall of Fire, I happened upon Bilbo, who made a passing comment that he'd seen you leaving south out of Imladris. He couldn't quite remember when it was as he'd been partaking quite heavily of Elrond's wine at the celebrations and seemed a tad bit effected still, but he was very sure of which direction you had gone. By this point, it was already a while past when we'd agreed to meet, so I assumed that you would be on your way back and decided to see if I could meet you halfway.

"It was easy enough to find the path you'd taken. I did find it a bit unusual that the trail didn't look new, but unfortunately by the time I realized that something was truly wrong, I was already well out of Imladris. I wasn't sure if you had been injured, or even captured, so I decided it would be better to continue after you, rather than return for aid and potentially risk losing your trail." He was silent for a long moment, just running his fingers softly over my hair. When he spoke again, his voice was faint, and tense. "I will admit, I feared the worst. Your tracks became increasingly erratic, and the rain the previous night caused them to be a bit more difficult to follow... T'was your singing that led me to you, in the end. Maeben informed me that your singing also drew his attention when you originally arrived, so it seems I must thank you for your penchant for singing when you need aid."

I pressed my face slightly into his chest to hide the warming of my cheeks, voice an embarrassed mumble, "Maeben's just being modest."

Legolas' chin pressed softly against the top of my head and he shook it in disagreement. "He seems to think that you are just being modest when you say that it was him who saved you. He was quite firm about it. We talked for a time when he visited you."

Pulling my head back slightly, I sent him a quizzical look. "He visited? Why would he do that? I just saw him at the party not that long ago."

Legolas looked down, meeting my eyes for a long moment before he took a slow breath, voice a touch sorrowful. "Alyssa, you've been asleep for nearly five days. You awoke a number of times but you were extremely disoriented and you never managed to stay awake for very long. Elrond monitored you quite closely for the first few days. 'Tis only in the last day or so that he claimed you had finally transitioned out of a healing sleep and fallen into one much more natural. He said that healing of the mind can be a delicate process, and that we had to allow you to wake up naturally, as only you would know when you were sufficiently recovered."

Disbelief colored my voice, "Five days..." The magnitude of that was not lost on me. When I had first arrived, it had taken me three days in a healing sleep before I woke up. The fact that this occasion took longer even than that one implied that the damage to my mind was quite extensive. I suppressed a shudder at the thought of what might have happened if whatever was influencing me had been allowed to continue. I had pretty strong suspicions about what it was, but I'd have to talk to Elrond to see what his thoughts were on the matter. "Did Elrond say what had caused such extensive damage..?"

Legolas let out a light sigh, "No, he was a bit reticent on that. I believe he wished to discuss it with you before sharing the information."

I patted his arm consolingly. "Sorry. I'll tell you after I get a chance to talk to Elrond."

"If you wish to, I would certainly appreciate it."

We sat in silence for a few long seconds before a thought occurred to me. "Legolas... Why were you reading in here?"

His hand stilled in its gentle caress of my hair, and there was something almost cautious about his voice when he spoke. "I did not want you to be alone when you awoke, so I was watching over you." His voice grew hesitant in the next moment, "Do you ... wish for me to leave?"

It took a good deal of restraint to keep myself from blurting out that I never wanted him to leave, which left very little willpower available to convince myself that separation would be a good thing and that really, I didn't have time to cater to my one sided feelings. I couldn't justify outright asking him to stay, though, I had no right to do that.

So I settled for a more middle ground response. "You certainly don't have to stay, I'm sure you have more important things to do."

He laughed softly, fingers resuming their repetitive trail across my hair. "Oh yes, how could I forget that I have a long list of things that I need to do in the middle of the night? I shall see to it immediately."

I huffed slightly at his joking tone. "Well I don't know your schedule, Legolas. Elves don't generally need much sleep, so is it wrong of me to assume that you might still have things to do at night?"

He pulled back from me slightly to give me an exaggeratedly wounded look. "I am offended, Alyssa. I thought we were friends. How could you not know my schedule? You know that's the thing I care about the most! More than food, more than breathing, more even than archery and pillow forts!"

A laugh bubbled out of me, and I shoved at him playfully. "I know! What kind of friend am I, not knowing that?"

He allowed me to push him off the bed, sprawling dramatically on the ground next to it with a hand pressed on his heart as if physically wounded, face drawn into an expression of mock pain. My gaze caught on his splayed hair, the line of his neck, and then the hand on his heart and my previously joking grin mellowed into a gentle smile. "Especially after you saved my life. Thank you."

His eyes opened and met mine, an affectionate smile blooming on his face. "You are most welcome. I am happy to save you any time you have need. Though, if I'm being perfectly honest, I would rather prefer if you did not make a habit of it."

I chuckled and settled onto my side so I could observe his supine form. "I'll do my best, but unfortunately in that regard I can make no promises."

He made a face at my response and I returned it, sticking my tongue out at him. "What, because you would make a promise like that to me?"

One of his eyebrows raised and he grinned slightly. "The difference is that I don't need you to save me." He laughed at my ensuing expression of outrage.

"Someone's going to need to save you pretty soon if you keep talking like that. I could very well save you if I felt like it!" I flung one of my pillows down on him.

He caught it, laughing and tucked it beneath his head, scooting slightly closer to the side of the bed so he could look more directly up at me. "No, no, I don't doubt it at all, Alyssa. You are welcome to save me whenever you desire. You could save me right now!"

My voice was dry when I responded, "You don't need saving right now."

His expression morphed into something a touch more pitiful, his voice woeful. "You could save me from the cold, hard ground."

A giggle escaped me. "You're the one who went down there to start with."

"I was viciously assaulted and had no choice but to flee my attacker."

I rolled my eyes at him and motioned vaguely at the settee. "Get back on your couch, you ridiculous elf."

Obligingly he rose, somehow managing to make the act of climbing from the floor to the couch seamlessly both graceful and melodramatic at the same time, as if he were climbing a sheer cliff side. He brought my pillow with him, of course.

I bunched part of the blanket up, lying on my side so I could continue gazing in his direction, my head cushioned by the blanket and my curled arm.

We fell into a comfortable silence, the flicker of the candlelight across his features lulling me into a light doze.

Legolas broke the silence a few minutes later, silk voice tentative and almost unsure. "Alyssa... Do you remember what we spoke about while I carried you back to Rivendell?"

After a moment of trying to recall the interaction he was talking about, I shook my head, trying to banish the slight lethargy that was starting to set in. "No, not really. I have this vague kind of remembrance that we talked, but I have no idea what it was about. Did I say anything weird? If I did, it was probably just the head wound talking."

There was a strain of disappointment in his voice when he next spoke, and I suddenly felt like I had said something bad. "No, no, you said nothing wrong. I was merely curious how much you remembered."

My mind caught on his wording. I had asked if I said anything weird, not anything wrong. So maybe I had said something weird and he was just trying to be nice? "I'm sorry I don't remember. Was there something you wanted to talk about?"

Still, Legolas hesitated, eyes searching and intense, looking almost torn. Then he let out the barest of sighs. "Yes, however I think perhaps now is not the appropriate time. You're still tired and I'm sure you shall have plenty on your mind once you are given the chance to speak with Elrond. I do not wish to add to that burden."

He relinquished the pillow back to me, offering an apologetic smile. "Here. You should rest."

I reached out for the pillow, concern welling up in me, along with a slight frown. "Is it important? I'm not that tired, I'd be okay if you wanted to talk now."

A fond smile was sent my way and he shook his head gently. "I appreciate the offer, but I think it would be best discussed at another time. Perhaps when it is not so late an hour and you are more fully recovered."

One hand raised at the protest he could see on my face, and he shook his head again. "Please, allow me this. Settle yourself, I'll put out the candle for you."

Grudgingly, I returned the pillow to its rightful place on the bed and pulled the blankets up further around myself. Legolas waited through my fidgeting, softly blowing out the candle once I was comfortably arranged in the bed.

Darkness encompassed the room, accompanied by the slight scent of smoke from the extinguished flame. I waited, eyes closed and breathing forcedly even, straining to hear if he was going to settle on the couch or leave the room.

When the silence eventually lulled me to sleep, I was still no closer to an answer.