When I had completed my chores for the day, I fetched my bow and went to the archery range. I often spent my afternoons there, practicing my aim and proving my worth to nearby soldiers. There was no doubt that I was a better shot than any of them, but that I owed in part to my elvish blood. Elves were surpassingly quick and had heightened senses that were far superior to any man's.

I found my skill to be lacking that day, for my mind was not focused. Whenever I envisioned my arrow striking the center of a target, Legolas' face was all I could see. My immature infatuation frustrated me. Certainly a single man could not interfere so drastically with a talent that had always come natural to me. And yet my accuracy had visibly decreased a great deal.

Perhaps it was no girlish crush, however.

Perhaps that longing in my soul, which had ruled my conscience for a week, and that now had disappeared all together, had been warning me of this elf. Perhaps this was what I had been searching for.

I shook my head, though, and worked doubly hard to block all thoughts of golden hair or pointed ears from my mind.

An hour or so passed, and I had tuned out the sounds and sights around me, honing my focus as best I could. Yet for all my mental shielding, a single voice easily penetrated my ears.

"You clearly have great skill, Aieriel,"

I nearly jumped at the honey-sweet voice, but my focus kept me cool, and I turned without falter to the elf behind me.

"Mae Govannen, Legolas," I said, shielding my eyes from the sunlight haloing his face as I looked up at him. He surveyed me with warm eyes, and I could not help but sigh a little at the glorious sight of him. "Yet today it seems that my skill has been impeded on,"

"You must be worried about something, then. What is it that is troubling you?" he asked.

I paused for a moment, weighing the risks of telling him the truth. They seemed to greatly outweigh the pros in that moment, and so I skimmed around the truth and gave him only a few outlying causes of my unrest.

"Well, firstly, because the king has been "awakened", so to speak, he will surely take military action soon. Part of me wishes not to be uprooted from Edoras, for it has been my home these last two months," the sardonic tone in my voice could not edge out the sadness, and I loosed another arrow far too soon, so that it glanced off the target I had aimed for and landed on the ground before it. A low curse escaped my lips.

Legolas listened to my complaint with concern, and when I finished, he pulled his own bow, a handsome and clearly princely object, from his back and loosed an arrow all in a split second. I raised my brows in amazement.

"You have great skill yourself," I pointed out.

Legolas gave me a polite smiled. "Indeed. Archery is my passion," he stated simply. He turned back to the target then and shot two more arrows in quick succession.

"I too know what it is like to have war uproot you from your home. I know the fear that accompanies such a thing," Legolas turned back to me, "It is never a welcomed feeling, to lose a place you called home. But such is life, meleth, and we have no sway in the workings of the Valar,"

I nodded solemnly, and turned back to my own target, this time hitting my mark squarely. To my surprise, Legolas continued.

"I left everything I knew, everything I could have had. I threw away any chance at a life of peace. I knew the consequences of my actions, Calahdra. I knew what my duty was, and what I had to do. But a sense of duty certainly does not lessen the pain,"

I looked at him, a thousand questions clear in my eyes. He did not look back, and instead of questioning him further, I watched the muscles of his shoulder ripple with power as he loosed another arrow. The way his body leaned and curled with the flex of his bow. How his eyes followed the arrow to its mark, and how his fingers followed a definite routine of retrieving and knocking another arrow without question or hesitation.

After three more of his arrows were let loose, he looked back at me.

"Why did you leave?" I asked, the most obvious of any of the questions I could have asked.

Legolas grew silent and still, as if he was being hunted by some predator.

"That is my own business,"

His voice was cold and bitter, almost desolate with a lack of emotion. Yet his response was so forced that I wondered if he wished he could tell me.

"Then what is the story you are telling people? For an elf could not possibly have come to Edoras on a whim of pleasure, especially one who carries heavy arms," I asked, refusing to be abashed by his brusque reply.

Legolas glared at me, and I nearly choked on my own tongue at the look of rage in his eyes. But at the sight of me, wide eyed and defensive, he gentled, and he seemed to shrink a little.

"I am sorry, Calahdra. My business is my own. I wish, so very much, that I could tell you. But I cannot,"

I looked back at my target, feeling solemn. There was true pain in his voice. Pain caused my the loss of so very much, but also the feeling of drowning in more than you can survive.

"What will you do now, now that you seem pledged to Theoden?" For all the pain I was causing him, I could not constrain my questioning, much to my chagrin.

"I follow Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and my fate will be his,"

He said this as if it was a recitation, something he had practiced aloud.

"Even if his fate is death?" I asked, my head cocked to the side.

"Yes, even if his fate is death," he whispered, loosing another arrow.

We were silent for a time, left to ponder our fates. I was uncertain of my future in that moment. I had always imagined myslef dying at my King's side, protecting him with all the life I had left. And yet suddenly, standing beside this elf, that future seemed hazy, almost improbable. I did not know why I felt this way, nor did I wish to find out why.

Legolas, however, seemed fairly certain of his future, as vague as it was. The thought of him dying, however, was enough to send me into a cycle of panic and incredulity.

"What else troubles you?" Legolas asked, clearly sensing at my mood with whatever elvish power he possessed.

I tried desperately to reign in my feelings of confusion, but my scrambled attempt at even more focus alarmed Legolas. He came to me, one hand curved over his mahogany bow, the other coming to rest on my shoulder. I looked at him, perplexed. He smiled softly and shook his head. "Let me try again. Calahdra, please tell me," He coaxed, is voice so low it was nearly seductive.

His coercion might have worked on a human woman, but I was not as entirely subject to his wiles as a woman, and therefore I shook my head.

"It is complicated, Legolas. And for all your compassion, I do not have the heart to tell you,"

"That is fair enough," he responded, and turned away. "If that is so, then let us return to our archery, for it is as great a panacea as any,"

We carried on in companionable silence for a while more, and as the sun began to set, I packed my bow and retrieved my arrows.

"I enjoyed spending time with you," Legolas said as he bent to pick up one of his own arrows.

I nodded at him in agreement, and stood to farewell him as my last arrow was found.

"As did I, Legolas. I hope to see you at supper,"

"You shall,"

We stared at each other for a moment, allowing the sounds of soldiers, horses, and weaponry to sink into silence. His unblinking eyes held mine fast, and yet I got the sense that my eyes captivated him as much as his own did mine. The feeling was strange to me, and I looked away first.

"Tenna' san'" I said, pulling my quiver tighter over my shoulder.

"Namaarie, aieriel,"

I turned away and fled to my bedroom, where the feelings within me could manifest themselves in whatever wrath they choose without the sensitivities of an elf I had surely fallen for catch me.