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No one has seen the prince in such anguish before. It was almost painful.

Falasdir couldn't even get himself to move, seeing the arrow plunge itself into Turwaithiel. He felt tired. He felt hopeless. Legolas' cries were enough to make him feel like the arrow sliced through him and not Turwaithiel.

Everything was a blur then as they quickly brought Turwaithiel up unto the Elk. Legolas was shaking, Falasdir recalled a scene like this not long ago. He wanted to scream too but didn't have the heart to. They all watched in horror as Legolas rode with Turwaithiel. Followed by the King and Queen of Mirkwood. Even Mantheniel looked even worse than before. This amount of stress could not be good for the baby?

"Hey."

Falasdir turned to find Lindethiel behind him. Her face betrayed no emotion, she looked at him before her brows furrowed.

"It will be okay," she says, although Falasdir swore he had never seen her so unsure before. Yet a part of him was relieved to even see her standing before him.

"Have you gotten better then?" He asked, completely forgetting there was a much larger problem but he couldn't make himself think about anything else. Lindethiel was here and she was looking better than she recently had been. Lindethiel managed a smirk, leaning on her swords hilt casually like they had all the time in the world at that moment. She turned to look around them. Laralen was still sobbing as Elrohir tried to comfort her. They had no other means of transportation except walking and no one had the energy or drive to do so just yet. Except for Turwaithiel's mother who had gone with Elladan to find a horse.

"Of all the questions you could ask-" she began but Falasdir cuts her off with a dismissive wave, a serious look on his face and for a moment Lindethiel swore she saw remnants of his old life flicker briefly through the cracks of his present self, leaving her to wonder what exactly had Falasdir left behind but not completely.

"Just answer the question? I hardly need any of your sarcastic remarks," he says then, picking up his own blade. Lindethiel threw him a curious glance and sighed.

"Well, I am here, are I not? And really, Falasdir, I would not be coming to your aid if I was feeling a little under the weather."

The corners of his lips twitch for a moment, feeling the easiness of their relationship come back despite the gravity of the situation. Lindethiel smiles at him before she turns her attention to Laralen who had begun to sob quietly as Elrohir kept her steady.

"Hey," she began, walking up to the two. Elorhir acknowledged her but Laralen seemed to distraught to even hear her.

"Hey," she begins again, softer this time. Addressing it to Laralen as she leans down so that they were face to face. This time, Laralen does look at her, an almost desperate look on her face. To Falasdir's surprise Lindethiel carefully wiped the tears away from Laralen's face with the back of her hand. Then gave the golden haired girl what appeared to be a reassuring smile.

"It will be alright," she calmly tells her. Laralen had stopped crying but she still shook violently from time to time, her eyes fixed on Lindethiel. "It is no time to grieve yet." She then stands up, motions Elrohir to do the same. The young lord follows without comment, bringing Laralen up with him who braced on to him for support. Yet he did not seem like he was fairing any better.

Lindethiel places a hand on her hip, her eyes scanning the area.

"Well, this is a total disaster." She states like it was not obvious enough. She lets out a heavy breath. "But I do believe there are things that still need to be done. Starting with that Ring of yours. We should find Lord Aerendyl's body for it to have a proper burial among his people. And-" she pauses, glancing around the wreckage that surrounded us. "We need to clean this mess up."

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