The man on the balcony continued to brood, his green eyes vacant as he stared off into the horizon. He was sitting on a wicker chair, his right leg raised to the balcony railing, his elbow propped up to his knee as his chin nestled on his fingers. Troubled was his look, and fear and uncertainty was in his eyes, but nobody seemed to notice as his thoughts became deeper and deeper and the world around him grew silent.

His name was Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, although he now dwelled in Ithilien with his wife and children. Since his last adventure with his friend and his then-fiance, he had aged, though only subtly. His face still held their youthful glow, but some lines of aging had settled themselves at the corners of his eyes. His bright green eyes now held his wisdom, for in his long years of being, he had learned many things, which he now shares to those who wishes to hear his tales of adventure. His ears, pointed and proudly sticking out from his long, silver-blond hair, was holding a small crown, the only indication that he was of noble blood. His stature was still slim and proud, for his years of dwelling in Middle Earth had not altered his physique.

But right now, Legolas wasn't thinking of himself. He was thinking of something else. Something that came to his attention years ago after some of the Elves in Ithilien…his people… left for the Undying Lands. It continued to wreck havoc in his brain, for the choice was hard to make and he feared that deciding to do it would be grievous mistake…

"Legolas… Are we having this discussion?"

Legolas snapped out of his reverie to look beside him. He turned to look at the speaker, and smiled slowly.

For beside him, was his wife, Meiou Linnadhiel, sitting beautifully on another wicker chair reading a small piece of parchment. As she looked worriedly at him, his thoughts wandered again.

He met Meiou several years before, while on a quest with his Dwarven friend, Gimli. Imprisoned in her own home by her tyrannical father, she escaped his clutches in search of life and the true meaning of beauty. His father felt before that she possessed no beauty in her whatsoever, which scarred her emotionally. But with Legolas' help, she found true beauty as well as true love and forgiveness for her father's sins.

For years they dwelled in happiness in Ithilien, and like Legolas, age had found their way into her features. Her black hair was short when he met her, barely reaching her shoulders, but was now long and glorious, flowing with the wind as it blew. Her earthen eyes were also wizened and, like him, held lines of aging that crinkled when she smiled. Her heart-shaped face was still soft and blooming, though small wrinkles etched themselves at the sides of her red, bow-shaped lips. Her nose, slightly round and squashed, was her considered curse, though Legolas found the facial button rather endearing, for it wriggled when she was disgusted with something, and he had found out that it was a perfect place to peck her with a playful kiss. Her figure was typical of that of a mother, slightly rounded and curvy, though she still moved with grace and fluency that she had when she was still a young elf.

"Legolas… are you alright? Are you listening?"

He snapped again from his reverie, and smiled at her. "No, I wasn't listening. I was admiring your nose, Lady Meiou."

Her eyes registered a bit of surprise at the abrupt compliment, but she blushed faintly as she wriggled her nose in disgust. "Well, you should listen. My nose is nowhere as important as King Elessär's letter."

The letter was indeed important, for King Elessär – who was also known as Aragorn – is the king of Gondor, and ruler of all the land of Men. He had fought alongside Legolas and Gimli in the War of the Ring, a great battle against the Evil Lord Sauron that shook the world but brought peace throughout Middle Earth with their victory. King Elessär now dwelled in the White Hall of Gondor, with his elven queen, Arwen, his strong, determined son, Eldarion and his daughters.

He laughed as he stood up straighter. "Very well then. What did Aragorn say?"

Meiou looked worriedly at the letter again, "Aragorn's health is slowly but surely fading. Though his Numenorean blood had sustained him for years, I fear that he may not reach the same age as his ancestors…"

"You under estimate him." Legolas replied as he looked out the horizon again, "He is stubborn… he is not afraid of death. And I am pretty sure Arwen had accepted his fate. Should Aragorn die, Eldarion would continue his father's life's work."

Meiou sighed, "But still, it would break my heart to see him fall into death… he was such a wonderful man."

He reached over and patted her hand, a small but rather comforting gesture for Meiou. "Avo 'osto, Meiou. I shall make sure that we shall be beside him on his hour of need."

She smiled a bit and stared down at the letter. For a minute, she seemed troubled, but soon her head went up as a thought came. "Where are the children? I do not think I could hear them."

Legolas suddenly thought of their two children. His eldest, Ranthoron, inherited his father's looks but caught his mother's love for travel, for since his young age, Meiou had told him tales of her and Legolas' adventures. It was his determination to travel the world that made him a powerful and skilled hunter, and was often the envy of other elves and men, though his mother forbids him to go beyond Ithilien. His daughter, Edhelwen, was a gentle elf, who loved both her parents as well as every living creature she came across. She had inherited her mother's earthen eyes and singing voice, and was often seen singing to the creatures that came near her, or to her pet, a nightingale named Ranfeä.

"I thought I heard Edhelwen downstairs, singing to her pet again." Meiou said, "Have you seen Ranthoron anywhere?"

Legolas shrugged, "He's probably with Faramir's men, hunting again. You know how the boy is, Meiou."

She clicked her tongue, "I just wish he'd tell me where he's going before he leaves. It worries me sometimes."

He shrugged again, but like always, thinking of his children made him remember his current dilemma. He grew silent again, his eyes glazed as he stared off at the horizon.

"Legolas… are you sure you're alright?"

He looked at her again, snapping off his reverie, to see her looking worriedly at him. The sight of her troubled face seemed to disturb him, for he suddenly stood up and patted her shoulder. "I am all right. I am just a bit tired."

Meiou made to hold his hand with hers, but he suddenly bent down and kissed her lightly on her cheek, saying goodnight with a rather hurried voice. She continued to watch him, confusion in her earthen gaze, as her husband faded into the darkness.

That night, she lay beside Legolas, his elven eyes open but devoid of emotion, for he was already sleeping. Elves usually slept with their eyes open, which Men considered extraordinary. His breathing was slow and his face was tranquil. Meiou continued to watch him sleep as she thought of the years passed.

Since their marriage, Legolas had been everything she had hoped for. He loved her dearly, never complaining, always entertaining and playing with his family. But when Edhelwen was born, he had been pensive and morose. He had stopped playing with his children, and often sat on their balcony with his chin propped on his hand. His thoughts consumed him totally, for he had rarely laughed since then, and often did not listen to the people around him.

For hours, Meiou thought of the reason why he had been like so for years. She thought of other elven women or mortal women that he may have relationships with, but she could not think of anybody. She thought of her children, their old age … but she knew that he had accepted those things. But then the thought came so suddenly that she gasped.

His reason… could be her.

She shook herself mentally. His reason couldn't be her. He had married her because he loved her, and that was all that mattered.

Or did it?

Suddenly, Meiou felt tired. She stopped looking at Legolas, and shifted to her other side. She sighed, and soon she realized that for the first time since they married, she was doubting Legolas. The thought saddened her, and she muffled her sobs on her blanket as sleep finally overcame her.