Sythralen was flooded with warmth as if she was wrapped in Thranduil's arms. She vowed then and there that if she found a way back into her body that she would swallow her pride and go to him. The years apart may have diminished his love for her but that no longer mattered. Sythralen had loved greatly and purely even if that love was no longer present. The way out presented itself but so did a choice. In this place she could remain free of the darkness or she could return to Middle Earth and carry a piece of it with her always. So often had she made selfish choices but this couldn't be one of them. Her inclination to evil was a warning for those who, without her, would have no knowledge of what lay ahead. That's why Galadriel had wanted her to speak to the darkness inside her. She had hoped Sythralen would have been able to control it enough to use it against the enemy. Of course at the time she had still been impressionable to its temptation but no longer. Without hesitation she stepped through the portal. Her eyes opened. The rosy color of dawn hit her emerald pupils. Colors! She was so excited to see colors! The amber leaves that held on to the white bark of the branches. The blue of the sky and the grey of the mountains surrounding the valley. She blinked a few times to make sure she was actually seeing Rivendell above her. Above her? She was laying in a...crystal coffin?! How long had she been gone? She began to push on the hard surface above her but it was no use. She kicked at it then started scratched causing her fingernails to bleed but the coffin would not open. Her breath became short. They had thought she was dead then but now they would find her truly so if she couldn't get out! Then it opened and sweet relief filled her lungs. Before she could figure out what happened she felt the arms of Elrond around her and his tears on her cheek. For a moment she just held him tightly.

"Grandfather." She smiled as she looked upon his face and wiped away his tears. Her heart felt incredibly open in a way she had never known before. All of her animosity towards her grandfather for disagreeing with her and even the blame she held on him for not rescuing her from the Dark Elves all those years ago was gone as if it had never existed. There was so much she wanted to say to him. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was for all the years of stubbornness and heartache she caused him. There was no time. She had made a vow and she had to keep it. Sythralen offered him a smile."No more days of sorrow."

"None remain for you have returned!" He retuned a smile of pure joy though he looked tired and his clothes looked as though they had been worn for weeks. Had he even left her side?

"I am sorry I was gone so long. I wish I could stay and see Arwen and Aragorn. I would love to explain the wonders I saw but I can waste no more time." She got up as if she had not been dead for weeks but as if she had only been sleeping.

"Aragorn has left us. After you...he couldn't bare it here anymore. He went North. And where do you go in such a rush?" The news of Aragorn's departure made Sythralen sad. Arwen was devastated no doubt. She wanted to go to her aunt and tell her that all was well and that Aragorn could come back but there was something, a new knowledge from her time in the in-between that told her he needed to remain where he was. Elrond kept her hand in his as she walked away. She didn't want to let go and leave him so soon but there was one who needed her attention more.

"To Mirkwood. A place I should have visited long ago." Sythralen turned and went straight to her room. It felt so nice to have the ground beneath her feet, to feel the muscles tense as she quickened her walk to a run. Her room had been restored to its original state. No trace of the blood anywhere. Turning to grab a pack for clothes and food for the journey she walked past a mirror. It was the first time she had seen herself in a while. The elf in the mirror didn't seem like it was her at all. With her curls falling around her face and her long purple dress she looked like Arwen...Arwen...how she wanted to see her and Aragorn and Arirua...did she know? Surely word had reached her from Elrond. Suddenly some of her memories started to return. Arirua was on the quest to Erebor. Azog. Dol Guldur. It was all connected. What had Morgoth said? They will burn in the fires of war? Could that mean-

"Focus, Syth." She whispered to herself. "You can't get distracted. You have to be brave and go." Sythralen had faced many enemies but none frightened her as much as Thranduil. Enemies she could kill, him, she should could only love. What a terrifying thought! He could, and no doubt did, despise her and she couldn't be angry at him for it. She had made love to him, tried to kill him, then abandoned him with no explanation. And to make it worse she died! Did he know? Was Legolas the one that had to tell him? Of course, he would be the only one that could face the King of Greenwood. No, wait it was Mirkwood now. Sythralen's memories were hazy but still there. All except one. She couldn't remember why she had gotten sick. No doubt it would take some time to readjust to her soul being in her body again. She was packed, had changed into her travel clothes that were still a rich purple but did not hinder her as a dress would. The corseted tunic was only laced on the sides giving her plenty of room to run. The long bits of fabric covered her front and back and went down to her lower thighs, which were covered in tights of a darker color. The long sleeves came to a point on the top of her hand and her boots came up all the way to above her knees. There were swirled golden details etched into the entire ensemble so there was no question she was the Great Assassin from Rivendell. Her dark brown hair was braided to where it was half up and half down and out of her eyes then she wrapped it again so it was now a ponytail. Now she looked in the mirror and she felt like herself once more.