Author's Note: My apologies for the long wait on updates. Life has not been cooperative and then my muse went on hiatus. Sorry if this chapter is a bit rough, but if I don't post it and move on, I'll never get this done! Let me know if you see any inconsistencies or errors! Hoping to get this story finished by new years!

Twenty-four

The Aftermath

Lancaeriel leaned into Lass and wept until she had no more tears. It felt good to be held, like Anthir had held her when their parents had died. Too long had she denied herself such comfort. That had to change. She had to change.

She lifted her head and raised her eyes to meet Lass's concerned gaze. He brushed light fingertips over her bruised cheek, over her hair. The tears overflowed again, but this time her tears were those of relief.

He examined her injuries, all the while whispering soothing words that calmed her, as her father had done with injured animals. The tone was different, yet familiar, and the sound soothed her wounded spirit. Her tears abated, and she felt safe for the first time since Anthir had died. She opened her eyes to look at Lass again.

He gave her a small smile, a teasing light entering his eyes, but his voice was sincere. "I tire of asking this, but are you all right?"

A short laugh escaped her, then she groaned and moved a hand to her back. It still hurt. "That is one of the dumbest questions I have ever heard," she countered, then added thoughtfully, "I should not have left the tree."

He snorted. "And that is one of the biggest understatements I have ever heard," he retorted.

A wave of uncertainty washed over her and her smile faltered.

He shook his head. "I understand why you did, and I would have done the same if our circumstances were reversed," he reassured. "However, I think you will be nothing but trouble for me." He held her in a thoughtful gaze.

Lancaeriel's breath hitched at his last statement. She bit her lower lip, not certain how to interpret his words. "I am sorry," she told him, blinking as her tears returned, this time of regret. "I do not wish to be a burden. I—."

Lass cut off her words with a raised finger. "You did not let me finish. I think you will be nothing but trouble for me, but…" He smiled. "I think I need that trouble. I welcome it. Do not let your grief keep you from being yourself, Caeri."

She blinked at the words, surprise filling her. How did he know?

He seemed to understand her unspoken question. "I can see it, the darkness of grief in your eyes. But I have also seen other things over the past few days, hints at who you really are underneath that darkness. It is time to find yourself again."

"And what of you?" she countered boldly. His words had resonated with a truth she had also seen in him. His eyes widened with surprise at her tone, and she dropped her gaze. "I have also seen darkness in your eyes," she continued, "though I do not know what causes it. It keeps you from your true self as well." She glanced back up at him.

Lass startled and stared back at her with what could only be shock. Then he glanced away from her. "That is different. And there is nothing I can do about it. Not yet."

"I think you are wrong," she told him.

He jerked his gaze back to her again, this time with a look of wary curiosity, but he said nothing about what she had said. Instead he gave her a wry smile. "You saved my life with that throw. Thank you."

She wanted to push him, to find out what it was he hid, but she let him change the subject. Whatever his secrets, whatever darkness tainted him, she had no right to know. Not now. Maybe in time, as their friendship grew, he would share it with her.

For now, she smiled at his change of subject. "No, thank you. If you had not come back for me…" Her voice faded as the horror of all that had happened caused her heart to race once gain.

He took her hand and squeezed it, filling her with reassurance. "When we get to Ithilien, we will work on improving your self defense skills," he told her. "You throw a dagger very well, but there are some things I can teach you that could have helped you in this situation."

A mischievous light entered his eye. "And then I think you should study the healing arts. I have a feeling it might come in handy for both of us." He winced and released her hand to touch his wounded thigh.

Caeri laughed despite her pain. Her face, head and hip hurt dreadfully, but for once, her heart was light.

— o —

Legolas eased himself up and winced, his fingers searching out the extent of the cut on his leg.

"We should tend to that," Caeri agreed.

She attempted to rise, but Legolas stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. "I will see if anything remains of my pack. I always have bandages in it, though it is possible the men used them."

He staggered to his feet and stumbled to where the packs had been stacked. His supplies for cleaning wounds was gone, but he found two rolls of cloth. He returned with his pack to the log and dropped onto it, allowing Caeri to poke and prod a bit at the wound, before determining it would need to be cleaned and possibly stitched. But for now, a bandage would help with the bleeding.

Caeri had just tied it off when the sound of a groan drew their attention to where Prem lay, beginning to stir. Legolas felt a measure of relief that the young man had not died, despite his part in their circumstances. The young man had been foolish, but his motivations had been for his friend. Now, Prem's life would never be the same.

Legolas and Caeri moved to where the young man lay. He was not yet conscious, just restlessly moving and groaning a little. But Legolas was encouraged by the movement and hoped Prem had suffered no lasting injury to his head. He turned Prem's head slightly and ran his fingers over the back of his head, feeling the large lump there.

"This boy is going to have a terrible headache," Legolas mumbled. At Caeri's raised brow, he shrugged, then winced at the reminder of the wound in his shoulder. "I have been in enough battles over the years to have had my share of injuries."

"You served in the patrols?" she asked, a curious light in her eyes.

He nodded. "I have been a warrior most of my life."

"And a leader as well." It was not a question.

Legolas was not surprised she had surmised as much, so he nodded. "I captained a patrol for many ennin."

"And what do you do in Ithilien?" she asked.

He blinked, unwilling to reveal himself completely to her, even now. Not yet. He was enjoying just being Lass. "I lead patrols in Ithilien as well, though of a different sort. It is rare to encounter orcs in Ithilien these days, although they do occasionally come down from the Ephel Duath."

"If you do not fight, then what do you do?"

"We scout out places that still need the healing hands of the elves. Much of Ithilien was tainted. We plant saplings, build retaining walls, protect the wildlife…" He winced at that last. "Well, we try to protect it. Some creatures Men do not understand."

She frowned at him. "Men have always hunted for food, even as we do," she pointed out, not understanding. "Are they not allowed to hunt at all?"

He smiled. "Of course they hunt for food, and more and more deer and elf return to the forests. And there are hare and red and grey squirrels aplenty."

Caeri wrinkled her nose at the last. "They eat the squirrels?"

He chuckled, understanding her distaste. "They are not like our black squirrels, but red and grey creatures that grow fat and make a tasty meal. But it is the feladroe that we protect when we can. The Men hunt them for sport and some would see them eradicated. They can be dangerous, yes, but they are beautiful in their own manner and worthy of respect. They do not deserve death."

"Lions?" she asked.

He nodded with a smile. "Yes. I named them feladroe when I discovered they lived in packs and find shelter in the caves near the mountains. They are incredible creatures, but as predators, must be respected." He paused, then admitted, "They have been known to hunt men."

Her face paled at his admission. "Are they evil?"

"No, just predators. And they have left us well enough alone. It is the Men who go into their territory that are most at risk, as they are now hunting the same game. Have no fear! We have never seen them near our settlement."

Prem stirred once more and lifted a hand to his head as he groaned. Then his eyes fluttered open.

"Easy," Legolas told him. "You have taken quite a knock to your head."

The young man stared up at them in confusion a moment, then blinked as recognition came to him. "Brigus! Jasper!" He struggled to get up, and Legolas helped him to a sitting position.

"All dead," Legolas told Prem. He stared down into the saddened hazel eyes. "Thank you for your help," he told the boy.

Prem stared back at Legolas, a trickle of blood from the fight running down his cheek. "There was never any treasure, was there?" He asked, searching Legolas' eyes.

Legolas shook his head. "No, there was not. All of this was in vain from the start."

Prem nodded and groaned, rubbing his head. "I never wanted the treasure," he told them. "I just didn't want Torel going with these men alone. I tried my hardest to get him to stay home! He could never see the dark side of his brother — but I could.

Prem looked over at Brigus lying dead nearby. "I wish he could have seen how wrong he was."

Legolas told him, "He did. I could see it in his eyes. He is at peace."

— o —

Legolas could not stop the young man from burying Brigus, despite his injuries. Prem seemed to feel it a duty to his friend and would see Torel's brother buried beside him, at the least.

The other men could be left to the forest.

Legolas watched the determined young man for a few moments, before turning his attention back to treating Caeri's wounds. There was not much he could do for her. She was battered and bruised and her head was causing her pain. He feared she might have a cracked rib as she wrapped a hand about her side when she inhaled, but there was nothing he could do for that with what they had with them either.

Having done the best he could with what he had, Legolas sat back against the fallen tree and closed his eyes. He breathed in the morning air and delighted in the warm sun kissing his cheeks. The pain of his body slipped away as a song rose in his heart, drowning out the wood around him.

His heart cried out as the longing overwhelmed him, without warning, taking advantage of his weakened state. The smell of the forest became the smell of salty water. The slight breeze softly rustling the leaves became the sound of the waves upon the shore. Legolas drew in a ragged breath, and fought it down, refusing to surrender to the torment of the sea.

"Lass?"

The soft voice brought Legolas' attention back to Caeri who sat beside him, back leaning against the fallen log. The sea faded as the wood came into focus, then he stared into her sea-colored eyes. Strange, to see such eyes among one of their kin. She was a wood-elf with eyes of the sea, a contradiction as well as a mixture of all he loved.

He blinked then asked, "How fares Prem?"

"He is almost done," she replied, gesturing to where the young man shoveled dirt into the hole containing Brigus.

Legolas managed to get to his feet, noting he also possibly had a cracked rib or two, judging by the pain in his side. His eyes fell once more upon the bodies of those he had killed. He wished to leave this place as soon as he could.

"I am going to see what is worth taking with us," he told Caeri, and when she offered to help him, he shook his head. "No, rest here. You will need your strength."

She did not argue, but sat back against the log, turning her face away from the carnage of the clearing.

Legolas rummaged through the packs of the men, and divided rations between two packs as well as two water skins a piece. He did not place much food in the pack he intended to take. He and Caeri could survive from the forest alone, whereas Prem would need the provisions to return to his home in the north of the wood.

The packs sorted, he found his weapons and strapped them onto his back. He had missed their familiar weight, but now they rubbed against his wounded shoulder. He contemplated having Caeri carry them, then shoved the thought aside. She might be good with a bow, but she would never be able to draw the bow of Galadriel.

He hefted the packs and limped over to where Prem stood staring down at the two graves.

"You are a credit to your race," Legolas told Prem.

Prem snorted and turned to look back at him. "I ain't nothin special. I couldn't even save my best friend."

Legolas placed a hand on the man's arm. "You did the best that anyone could do. It is rare to see a friendship go to such lengths. You have sacrificed much, I think, to be here for your friend. Few would have done what you did. I admire such honorable intentions."

Prem flushed, glancing away.

Legolas squeezed his arm, then let go, looking up at the placement of the sun. "You need to return to your family. The morning will have passed us by before long. If you start now, you will be home by nightfall the day after tomorrow."

Prem looked back at him. "And what about you, Lass? You ain't lookin' so good."

Legolas smirked and shook his head. "I have taken many worse wounds in my lifetime. I assure you that I can tend these without aid. It would be best if you were on your way, and we also need to travel. I want to get Caeri away from this place and to the halls as soon as I can manage it. She has endured enough."

Prem locked eyes with him, a determined mask hardening his face. "What's your name…and don't tell me that it's 'Lass'. Caeri told me that means 'Leaf' and no mother would name her child after something so silly."

The man's declaration brought actually made Legolas laugh, though his reply was soft enough that Caeri would not hear it. "You are right, my mother would not have named me thusly! It was my father. My name actually means 'Green Leaf '.

Prem blinked at him, his expression confounded. "If I've learned anything this last week, it's that elves are nothin' like how I imagined them. Should I call you 'Green Leaf' or can I have the privilege of knowing your true name."

Prem turned such a look him that Legolas could not refuse him.

Glancing surreptitiously over his shoulder at Caeri, Legolas saw her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and steady. She had fallen asleep while he had sorted the packs. He turned back to Prem and nodded. "I would be honored for you to know my name. I only ask you do not speak it here, for I do not wish to reveal myself to the lady just yet."

"I won't tell her," the young man promised, his eyes lighting up like a child who has just been told he could unwrap his begetting day presents early.

"My name is Legolas, son of Thranduil. I would be honored to call you friend."

Prem's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He opened and closed his mouth several times then frowned slightly. "Should I bow or something?"

Legolas grinned. "No, please do not," he chuckled, eyes shining at the young man. "I have never been one for such formalities. But if you are ever in the vicinity of Ithilien in Gondor, I do expect you to come see me."

Prem nodded, then mumbled, "Imagine that. Me, meeting a prince."

Legolas gave Prem the pack with provisions, and gave him the simple directions he needed for finding the edge of the wood, and his way home. If the young man watched the sun and only traveled while it was light, he could easily find his way home. He watched Prem walk away, knowing the man's life would never be easy, but that he had learned much. Prem would do well in life.

Limping back to Caeri, he deposited the other pack beside her and looked down at the woman sleeping at his feet. She looked peaceful now. Almost girlish. He did not wish to wake her, but they also should be on their way.

His shoulder had stopped bleeding, but the gash in his thigh needed cleaning. Both wounds should be sewn, but he had nothing with which to sew it. And cleaning wounds would have to wait until they found water.

As much as his body needed sleep, he did not wish to rest here in this place of death. He stooped and reached out a hand to rouse Caeri. Her blue-grey eyes fluttered open and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat.

Eyes like the sea.

What had he gotten himself into by insisting on bringing her to Ithilien? But strangely, as he looked at her, he found her eyes did not speak to him of the sea nor stir the longing that ebbed at the back of his mind. They spoke of trees and creeks, sunny paths and fallen leaves.

"What is your name?" Legolas asked, unable to stop the question. "Your real name?"

She looked at him in confusion for a moment, before her lips parted in surprise. "I…I thought I had told you. My name is Lancaeriel. What is your—"

He cut off her question by offering her a hand up. "Lancaeriel. Named after the sea." He smiled. "It suits you. Come, we must start out if we are to make it to the king's halls. Hopefully we will not have to walk far." Traveling directly, it would take more than a day to reach the halls if he did not stop for rest. But he had hope they would have assistance soon.

She frowned at him, then looked about her with surprise. "The moose?"

He laughed. "No sign of him yet. But perhaps we will have help soon.

Together they limped from the clearing, and Legolas was thankful that with the pain of walking, she had forgotten to ask him his true name.

— o —

Daehul came to a sudden stop, waking the slumbering dwarf upon his back. Gimli blinked the sleep from his eyes and slowly took in what lay before him. He slipped from the horse's back and came to stand next to Aragorn.

Their eyes scanned the small glade, littered with camping gear and the bloodied bodies of three men. Not far away were what appeared to be two hastily dug graves. Aragorn moved into the clearing and examined the nature of the wounds that had killed the men, but Gimli knew without the man speaking.

He frowned. "Hmph. Looks like the elf had some fun without us, Aragorn," Gimli observed.

"Yes, and not that long ago," the man replied, his eyebrows raising slightly. "These men were killed some time early this morning, no more than four hours ago." Aragorn slipped easily into the role of ranger and healer.

"Do you think Legolas is hurt?" Gimli asked, his apprehension coming out in his tone. He hated that. Only the elf could cause him to sound like that!

Aragorn moved to study the ground around the clearing, moving slowly as his eyes took in the signs only an experienced tracker could read. "Considering the child told me he was in trouble and to bring healing supplies, I would say yes." Aragorn stooped next to a pool of deep crimson blood that was slightly different from the darker puddles under the men.

Gimli stepped closer and noticed the silvery tint to the fluid, and his heart began to beat more rapidly. "Elven blood…" Aragorn looked up at him sharply and Gimli continued, "I've seen the elf bleed often enough to know the difference. That is a lot of blood, Aragorn." Gimli's dark eyes reflected his deep concern for his friend.

The man nodded and walked more rapidly through the clearing, eyes sweeping the ground, taking in everything. "That is not all of it either. There is quite a bit of elven blood here. If it is all Legolas', then he could very well be in trouble."

Aragorn stooped near a fallen tree and traced the ground where the grass barely indented. "An elf lay here, but not Legolas. Someone smaller. A woman perhaps."

Gimli raised his brows at that. "A woman? Do you think the lad has him a lass?"

Aragorn snorted. "No. I think he found her here, and was trying to protect her from these men." He searched the ground and followed some signs Gimli could not see to the treeline. Then the man smiled.

"They left together, both limping, not trying to hide their trail." He pointed into the woods. "I can track him, Gimli.

— o —

Legolas and Lancaeriel walked for several hours before they had to stop and rest. He helped Lancaeriel sit under a sprawling oak. She curled up between two large, protruding roots and closed her eyes. She was asleep nearly as soon as she was down.

Legolas could hear a stream nearby, and would clean his wounds there as soon as he rested a bit himself. He felt lightheaded and disoriented. He lowered himself to the ground beside Caeri but leaned back against the tree. He would not sleep, only rest a bit and catch his breath.

As he sat against the solid trunk of the tree and closed his eyes, once again the wind became the sound of the waves, the smells of the forest changed to the sharp salty brine of the coast. Legolas brought a hand up to his chest as a sharp pain twisted his heart. How easy it would be to lose himself in the longing, now that he was so tired and his body so full of pain.

He made half hearted effort to fight it, then gave up, sinking into the song that called to him of green shores and white sand. "Come home," it whispered. "Come home."

The crack of a twig breaking caused his eyes to snap open, and the sea retreated, leaving him feeling empty, but relieved. Legolas lifted his head and wearily faced whatever new threat had just revealed itself, but was unsurprised to see the person standing before him.

Rani stood watching him, her dress no longer blood splattered. There was something about her that made Legolas pause. Her shining midnight eyes turned to look compassionately at Lancaeriel.

"You have done well, young prince. I am proud of you…." Her ethereal voice seemed to float on the air as her eyes met his tired gaze.

Legolas blinked. Her words disturbed him. There was something very familiar about her, yet it eluded him. "Who are you?" he asked, determined not to be put off any longer. "Who are you truly?"

"You will know…"

Legolas groaned audibly, leaning his head back against the tree and narrowing his eyes at the child.

Rani's eyes sparkled with mirth as she looked at him. She smiled and ducked her head, hiding behind a curtain of golden silk. The sun slipped lower in the sky, its afternoon rays dancing between the tree boles behind her. The orb momentarily lit her from behind, then Legolas had to look away from its light, blinking a sudden sheen of moisture from his eyes.

When he looked back at the child, she was no longer there. In her place was a maiden. Her long silvery-gold hair floated to her waist unbound, and her white gown sparkled in the sunshine. Legolas met her eyes and found them deep blue, full of the light of the stars and wisdom vastly beyond his years. She was ancient, more ancient than any other he had met, and he had known Elrond and Glorfindel of Gondolin.

He stared in awe as she smiled, laughing softly.

"Yes, young one, today is the day you will know many things." Her voice was light and beautiful. She searched his eyes, smiled at him and waited.

Stunned, Legolas took several minutes to find his voice. "Who are you?" Legolas asked again, confusion and wonder filling his eyes and voice.

"You still do not know who I am?" she asked, a long-fingered hand gestured to her changed form. "Even now?"

For a reason Legolas could not fathom, this lady looked familiar. Not as if he had seen her before, but perhaps knew someone to whom she was related. "What is your name?" he asked, remembering she had told him he would know in time.

Her smile grew as laughter filled her eyes. "My name is Rainiriel," she told him, her voice soft as she watched him.

He responded in naught but a whisper. "I thought you were only a legend."

Rainiriel looked at him knowingly, shaking her head slightly in amused chastisement. "But legend is often founded in truth, is it not?"

Legolas smiled. "It is, my lady."

To Be Continued…

Reviews are highly motivational!

Feladroe (plural) – 'cave lions', an invention of my own first seen in Tracking Monsters and Uncharacteristic Fury.

Ennin (Plural) – 'long year' or in this case, long years, referring to the elves' counting long years as equaling 144 solar years.

Rainiriel – (Rine –n eer – ee – ehl) 'Tearful erratic wandering daughter'. Don't worry, who she is will be revealed in the next chapter.