Author's Note: "Great is Thy Faithfulness" is a Traditional Hymn, and it is not owned or written by me! Thanks!

"Good evening, Gimli," sighed Legolas as he fell into a chair in front of their hearth. The dwarf looked at him, and he wondered why the elf seemed so tired. "Did you feel that dinner was well?" Legolas looked over at him as he rubbed his forehead.

Gimli let out a hearty belch, and laughed when Legolas grinned and shook his head. "I thought supper was incredible! Arwen is the most wonderful cook I've ever known."

Legolas laughed and nodded. "She is very good. I only wished that Aragorn could have been here as well to enjoy it. Once again he misses his dinner."

Gimli shrugged. "Well, he's got a kingdom to run, lad."

Legolas nodded again. "I know, Gimli. Of course he does, and there is no better to rule it than he. But I am fairly certain that he would give just about anything to simply help and not be head…and to see his wife for a few hours."

"I'd say that you'd be right on that account."

"How was the wall building today? You are still alive; that is a good sign," he offered with a twinkle in his eye. "It means that you can survive without your friend beside you constantly."

"Aye, lad…but only for a day," Gimli said stubbornly, but he winked at Legolas.

The elf winced, and looked at Gimli with guilt. "What about two days?"

The dwarf sighed hugely. "Well, I suppose a dwarf can't get killed in two days, and I should suppose today went well then." Legolas was silent. Gimli looked at him closely. "No? What happened? Doesn't she return your affections?"

Legolas laughed and blushed slightly, the first time Gimli had ever seen him truly embarrassed. Figures it would be over a woman! "It is difficult to explain, Gimli, and also frustrating. Not her exactly, but the situation. Something, a long time ago, must have hurt her very deeply. She needs to open up to someone…I doubt that will be me."

"Surely Arwen knows what's the matter with her."

"I do not wish to ask such questions. It would be unfair to Enguina."

"Well, she seems nice enough, though she doesn't speak to me. I'm sure it's another one of those dwarf/elf quarrels, as the one I had with Haldir when we first met."

Legolas laughed. "Luckily, none of the elves present knew what it was you said, or there would have been no more Gimli." The dwarf chuckled.

"Surely not! I didn't know at that time Aragorn spoke dwarvish, or I wouldn't have spoken a word to anyone, and certainly not a curse." He sipped from his mug. "But tell me of this day with the Lady. Was it all that bad?"

"No," said Legolas, shaking his head, "it was indeed well until the very end. I had thought after the incident that occurred at the market before we returned for dinner that it would be hopeless to convince her to go anywhere outside of her own room. Thankfully, Ilúvatar has answered my prayer and granted me another chance to spend time with her. There is always the will of good and the will of evil at work in the world, Gimli," Legolas sighed.

"What was so horrible that happened at the market? What could possibly go wrong there?" Legolas frowned.

"Everything. There was a drunkard there who grabbed her." Legolas' eyes flashed, and Gimli's eyebrows rose. "I stepped in, but not before he had spoken some…inappropriate words. It made me angry…so angry that someone would even look at a woman like that…"

Gimli snorted. "Many men look at women like that; I find it hard to imagine you've never noticed them before. Haven't you ever seen the looks men give Arwen as she moves past them? None of them would dare anything, for Aragorn's wrath would be swift and terrible, but I tell you some men only believe a woman's for one thing."

"That is despicable," Legolas said, horrified.

"Think they're playthings or something," Gimli continued, "and I hate it as much as you, lad. Men like that should be—"

"Hanged," he said softly, "and they should also be taught to limit their alcohol consumption."

Gimli laughed. "Aye, lad, but there are good drinkers!"

"Yes, responsible ones," he replied and began to smile, "but they are not whom I speak of. I simply must now keep my eyes sharp for anything that might offend her. I must watch every move I make."

"That is doing a lot for a person. Do you like her that much?"

Legolas stared back at the dwarf, wondering. Did he? Had he ever felt this way in all of his days in Middle-Earth? He had felt love before in his many years, but nothing like this. He imagined for so many years that he would never know what he thought Aragorn felt for Arwen…now he was fairly certain he had discovered it himself.

"I am in love with her, Gimli. I know that it sounds strange, and I do believe that it is, but I cannot help the seed of love that has been sown in my heart from Ilúvatar. I can see that she is my path, but the line I must walk is straight and narrow. I shall do whatever it takes to hold onto her love…if I can earn it first."

"I believe you will, elf. Don't worry so much over it; if it is meant to be by the will of Eru, than it shall come to pass. Simply do the right, and it will happen."

Legolas laughed. "One day I wish to have your trust, Gimli. I have faith, but in some circumstances it is difficult to stand back and allow it to happen. Especially this one."

"If she's going to love you, miserable elf, she will; just continue to be who you're supposed to be, and she'll fall madly in love with you." Legolas laughed and so did he; he stood. "I hear my bed calling, and I'd better answer it." He looked at the elf and smiled. "My kin and I will miss you on the wall tomorrow."

"And I you," he said with a smile. "I shall be thinking of you."

Gimli shook his head. "Think only of the lass tomorrow, elf." He watched him a moment. "You're going to sleep…right?"

Legolas nodded. "Surely…in a few moments. Good night, Gimli."

"Mén dî…or whatever it is you say," he grumbled softly, and Legolas burst into laughter.

"Mān dú is what we say for 'good night', my friend!"

Gimli chuckled softly and shrugged. "I was close, eh?"

Legolas stood and clapped his hand on his shoulder. "That you were, mellon nîn."

Gimli smiled. "Ah! I do know the meaning of some Elvish words! Good night, friend." The dwarf turned from him and moved into the adjoining room to change from his day-clothes. Legolas turned back to the hearth and thought of the day that would come.

She hated the idea of disturbing Faramir so late, but there was no way she was going to wait a whole day before she had a chance to speak with someone, and she had no idea when Aragorn was going to arrive at home. Arwen had tried to leave the guesthouse at a reasonable hour, but that had not worked out as she had planned either, so finding herself knocking on Faramir's door at nearly ten in the evening was a bit late. The door was a while in opening, but it did open.

"Faramir," she said softly, "I am sorry to trouble you. Is Éowyn asleep?" He rubbed his rather blurry eyes and she frowned before he could even respond. "Forgive me; you were asleep as well," she added guiltily.

"Forget it," he said, looking at her seriously, though he did lean against the doorframe. "What do you need, Arwen? Is something the matter?"

"Something is the matter, something that needs looking after, though everyone is all right at the moment. I…I am worried about Enguina's safety."

He stood upright immediately. "Is she all right?"

"She is at the guest quarters quite safe at the moment," she replied. "But I am worried about her in the City. She said Éowyn knew what happened, so I assumed that perhaps she had mentioned—"

"She did tell me what happened at the market," Faramir admitted. "I was…furious when she told me. That something like that would happen in broad daylight in Minas Tirith! Unheard of, Arwen! Éowyn stated that the man had been drunk—"

"Yes," Arwen said softly, "Enguina said she could smell the whiskey on his breath. Thankfully, Legolas was there to protect her, but…" She hesitated and then sighed. "Faramir, she is my closest friend…I do not want something like this to happen to her ever again."

"What can I do?" he offered. "I assume that you would have gone to Aragorn if you could, but you came to me for a reason. How can I set your mind at ease?"

"Is there a way," she asked softly, "to place a rather discreet guard near her, to keep her safe? None of us want to see her hurt, and I would not want to see Legolas sitting in the stocks for a day."

Faramir smiled. "No, I would certainly not want Enguina to be hurt. Is it terrible to say I would be amused to see Legolas in the stocks though?"

Arwen sighed. "Not for that price, Faramir."

"Of course not," he agreed. "But watching Legolas lay someone out would be worth watching. Perhaps for my birthday?"

Arwen raised an eyebrow. "Have we not seen enough anger come to fisticuffs in the last year? I think we have…some of it ending with yours."

He reached out and touched her cheek. "It was for good cause. No one who knew you at all would ever slander you like that. The councilman needed a thorough lashing; I just happened to get there first."

"And I thank you, for rising to my defense," she said, "but I would prefer it be unnecessary. Do you think that a guard would be possible?"

"Definitely," he replied, becoming serious again. "I will be sure to take care of it the moment I rise. Discrete is the main word, yes? You do not wish Enguina to know?"

"Heavens no!" she said with a laugh. "She would kill me."

He laughed as well. "I will try to choose someone who will blend in a bit. Perhaps instead of armor, plain clothes would help?"

"Very clever, Faramir," she replied. "Thank you for protecting her."

"I will see to her safety."

It was not the first time the trio of men had met around the corner table in the dark tavern, nor would it be the last unless they were found out. They waited in the darkness for the one who would bring them news—news on their next movements. Each man had a strange light in his eyes, one that seemed to hide evil intentions. They sat quietly at first, drinking from their pints and keeping close watch on the door to make sure others did not get too close.

The three men did not look alike in feature but in stature they could have been of the same family. They were all tall and strong; the first had brown hair, a close-cut beard, and a squarish sort of nose that seemed to have been hit one too many times—his name was Dagnirhir. The second man was Ahadil—blonde with a cunning gaze, he sat with his back to the door and on his left was the only open chair at their table. The third Gondorian man was Belegore. He was the most intelligent of the three and the one who knew their informant the best. He had brown hair, but was without a beard and he was also the youngest. He sat facing the door, waiting without haste for their companion.

Ahadil sighed in annoyance, taking another long draught from his ale. "Where is that lout? He was supposed t'be here over an hour ago. I'm tired of waiting."

Dagnirhir nodded in grim agreement. "Aye. I hope nothing has happened to him, or we'll be in a great deal of trouble." He spoke with a slight sluggishness, and Belegore frowned. It never ceased to amaze him that his companion could not control his intake of the drink; it also disgusted him.

Then he noticed their friend enter, and he smiled, leaning closer to the table. "Is that not the truth? I swear, those elves are sly creatures. Give 'em a little and they will take everything. They are trouble; that much I can tell you both."

"Are we so much trouble, Belegore?" asked the new arrival, hooded and cloaked as he took his seat. The other men looked at Belegore expectantly, figuring he could talk himself out of it without much help.

"Yes, even more so than I spoke," he replied smiling, and a smile appeared underneath the hood in return. The man shook his head, tossing back the hood from his face and his fair Elven features came forth.

He was fair-haired and handsome, more so than any seated at the table without a doubt. He had bright, strange eyes that seemed almost violet, giving him an eerie look. Calendur was his name, elf from the realm of Mirkwood. His height was the same as theirs, but he seemed to have more experience in one glance than they, though he looked younger than Belegore.

"What kept you?" asked Dagnirhir. "We thought something horrible had happened to you." The Elven man smiled.

"You have little faith, Dagnirhir. It took longer than I expected to meet with my brother. He has been working very hard. Plans are in motion and going well. Very well. But I have an added bone that I must pick with you, personally." Dagnirhir only raised an eyebrow and seemed uninterested. Belegore had a feeling he knew what it would be.

"What has he told you? What are our plans?"

"Have patience, Ahadil." The elf smiled at them slowly. "The other elves from Mirkwood are still making their plans for the attack, but they will be ready within the next two weeks, and we shall make our move."

"What is our target?" asked Dagnirhir as Calendur turned to him. His eyes narrowed in irritation, and he took the pint from the man's hand.

"I think you have had enough of this for one evening. To refresh your memory I shall repeat myself only one more time, and the next I shall kill you without another thought," he added coldly. "Our target," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper, "as you have always known is the Queen. She is with child as we all know well, and she is the objective of our mission."

"That's right," said Dagnirhir a little too loudly, "we were supposed to be keeping our eyes on that Elvish slut—"

Calendur reached forward and snatched his tunic across the table. "Lower your voice or keep silent when I am speaking," he hissed, and then holding him closer to his face, said, "When I said close, I did not mean that close, Dagnirhir. You were seen. You are supposed to remain in the shadows so that none shall know you. You do not ever grow close enough to touch. Rein in your passions or I will have to kill you."

Ahadil shook his head. "Messin' with elves, are we? Is that so wise?"

Calendur smiled at him as he dropped Dagnirhir back to his seat. "My friend, you are already 'messing with elves.'"

"We have never been told why we were watching her," said Belegore softly. "What is the purpose?" He knew there was no one close enough to hear his words. Calendur scowled, and Belegore at once wished the question were not asked.

"Must you always know why, Belegore?" The elf sighed and shook his head. "She is a link to the Queen. The only useful thing that Dagnirhir has done for us is find out that they are all very protective of her, especially the Prince. Because of this link to the Queen, we shall distract the King and his companions with her kidnapping. This way, the Queen shall be left behind, relatively unguarded. That shall be the time my brother will make his move."

Dagnirhir yawned slightly. "And why are we doing this again?"

"Why?" Calendur sneered as his face changed completely to disgust. "You fools; is this simply a game to you? Dagnirhir, I tell you the kidnapping of this Elvish woman is a distraction for the real purpose. Our role is to draw away those who would prevent my brother's work. Have you forgotten our true purpose, gentlemen? Do we all remember that we are to make certain the heir of Elessar will never see the light of day?"

"Aye," snarled Ahadil, angered by the elf's words, "that blasted whelp should not appear on the throne. A Ranger from the North—that's lies, that is! Who said the man is the heir of Isildur? Where is the proof? I want t'see proof!"

"I want to see him dead!" whispered Dagnirhir fiercely, cracking his knuckles. "I want to face him in battle and utterly destroy him."

Belegore turned to Calendur with a frown. "How will all this work out, Calendur? I understand that we shall draw away the King and his companions by stealing the girl, but how will this allow your brother to dispose of a child not yet born?"

"My brother's companions will infiltrate the Citadel, quietly drawing off any guards from the Queen. Then, my brother shall go to the King's House and take care of her." Calendur smiled suddenly. "The daughter of Elrond will know poison for the first time in her life, and she will feel the bitter pain of illness, which elves do not feel. The poison will destroy her, little by little, taking the life of the child and her own…leaving the throne forever empty, for those who love are doomed to one love, and will take no other. Such will be the sorrowful story of the last King of Gondor." Belegore nodded as the others smiled, but he said naught.

The other men knew that this good would be carried out in victory for the Dark Lord, though he had been destroyed forever. It made little difference, for they would carry out his will even in his absence. The thought of no Elvish queen and no heir to the throne thrilled them to the core, and they ordered another round of drinks for themselves.

"Soon, Belegore," whispered Calendur to him as the others went to retrieve the drinks, "soon life will be good." He clasped his mortal friend's shoulder and Belegore gave him a faint smile.

Arwen opened her eyes once again to another morning filled with sunshine. She felt the coolness of the morning about her, and knew that it was late from the height of the sun. Why had she slept so long? She rolled over and nearly heaved; if she could have, she would have laughed at her own stupidity. Instead, she simply rubbed her face, breathed a sigh, and reached for Aragorn. The bed was cool; he had been gone for some time.

She sighed again. She had not even heard him come in last night and as she could see, the candle she had lit last evening lay reduced to slag. She sat up slowly, giving her body time to adjust accordingly, and she gently rubbed her stomach. Her mind wandered to thoughts of praying that he was all right; she had no way of knowing if he had come in last night.

"Please, Ilúvatar, keep him safe," she said softly, and she rose from the bed. After making it, she turned about to go into the kitchen, and as she did she noticed a piece of parchment folded upon the table. She could not help but smile as she lifted it, and when she opened it, she saw Aragorn's perfect scrawl of runes across the page:

"Dearest Arwen. I write to you for I did not wish to wake you last evening. Know that I returned safely and was in no danger. There was something that needed to be looked after, and it was my responsibility to do so. Again, I regret that I was not there to enjoy the meal you had made, but rest well that I did have a little dinner. Asfaloth spoke to me to tell you that he misses you, and Brego told me to give you a kiss. As if I need to be told. I wish I could see your smile at that. I am certain that I shall return in time for the celebration. Again, forgive me for my tardiness. I pray that you shall feel well this morning. I love you so. Your beloved Aragorn."

Arwen could not help the smile that spread widely across her face as she finished the reading, and could also not help the prayer that went up from her heart to ask Ilúvatar to take care of him today in whatever it was that he was doing. She thanked Him for the message to let her know he was safe; Aragorn was always so thoughtful. She should have known that he would not leave her to guess what had happened, but she did wish she knew what little thing needed care. She moved to get dressed, her heart comforted.

The day had only grown better over the course of the last few hours that he had spent with Enguina. Surely, Legolas saw that she was having a fair time exploring the rest of the White City, and he found that the more time he gathered with her, she was no longer the stiff Elven woman that he had once met that evening in the King's House. He also found that his feelings toward her had only seemed to grow. They did not fail; with each laugh, each smile, and each passing glance she gave to him, his heart seemed to swell in his chest. There were times that when he stood near her, he was certain she would hear it beating.

This last place they had taken her was the stone church on the fifth circle of the City, where they all attended on the first day of the week. Never having been in a real church of men, Legolas had loved it dearly when he arrived in Minas Tirith, and it surprised him sometimes how much he did truly adore this world that Aragorn had led him into. It was a special place, dedicated to the worship of the One, and Legolas had always found that his voice seemed clearer and higher here, and it amazed him still.

The structure was made of grey and white stone, a place of praise and worship, peace and guidance for the lost. To Enguina, it seemed large and impersonal from the outside. She did not say much as they approached, but Legolas thought for sure when they entered that she would enjoy it immensely. As they moved in through the large wooden doors, the man who led the worship on those Sunday mornings stopped Éowyn, and he spoke to her about her young daughter's birthday. Enguina stopped to wait for her, but she nodded her inside.

"Go ahead; I shall only be a moment, friend," Éowyn said, and Enguina slowly nodded, moving inside through the doors. Legolas was close behind her.

The sanctuary was still and quiet as they moved through it, and Enguina sat down near the front, staring in wonderment at the ceiling and the intricate stone carvings along the walls. Legolas smiled at her.

"What is it that amazes you so, my Lady?"

"The stonework in here is astounding. I never knew that men could build such things. It is a beautiful temple," she said softly, but her voice carried in the large room. The elf slowly lowered himself into the seat beside her, and nodded.

"Indeed, it is. Faramir once told me the story of it from his childhood. His mother, in Ilúvatar's care now, directed its building before he was born. She knew every detail; she built it in praise of Eru for what He had done for her."

"A woman built this?"

Legolas laughed softly. "Well, she did not physically build it, but they were her hands that drew the plans. Faramir had spoken that there was much opposition, but she overcame it; now it is the main center of worship for the City. People can gather here together and fellowship with one another rather than in their own homes."

"I am sure that the singing in here would be quite wonderful."

Legolas nodded. "It is; whenever I am here, I could sing, and I do not know why. This sanctuary makes my heart feel so light, even though there are none here but the two of us."

Enguina turned her face toward him and gave him a short smile. "You sound so certain that Eru is here among us."

Legolas smiled at her. Yes, dear Lady; I pray that it is His will that is bringing us together. And here, you feel not afraid of me. "Yes, I believe that is right."

He looked at her closely, and she looked away, thinking of her own situation, and wondering what in the world she had been doing staring at him for so long. His eyes captivated her, and she wished that she had the strength to counteract whatever power was within them. She had felt herself slowly, all day it had seemed, being pulled in by his strength and wisdom. He knew much about this place, and he was willingly sharing it with her…all of it with her, and also himself. She could see it in the way he moved; he had put his hand on her back this morning to guide her in the way they should go, and it had seemingly gone unnoticed, but not by her. It was as if Eru was reaching down to make her see that she needed him, and though her heart was willing to answer, but her head was not; her head was getting in the way. She wanted so badly to speak any words that would tell him something of how she felt when she was about him, but she could not do so.

He looked upon her gently, and he gave her a compassionate smile. "Do you desire peace, my Lady? You shall find it here if it is what you seek." His voice was soft and quiet, and she found that she could not turn to look into his gentle face. She simply could not bring her eyes to his, and she sighed with difficulty.

"I do desire peace…" she said, and her voice was soft also, "but anywhere I turn it seems that I cannot receive it." She suddenly realized that she was speaking words to a stranger…but no, this elf was no stranger. She looked into his face then and met those piercing blue eyes, but they were not so piercing. They were gentle and held…something far more than protectiveness; no, it was far too precious to be simple protection, but what? "Peace," she continued, "does not come to me."

"Then pray, dear Lady. Eru shall hear your prayer and answer it, for all who ask for anything in His name shall receive it." Her eyes began to tear, and she looked away from him. He leaned forward, but she turned her face away even further so he could not see.

"I do not think He answers every prayer, Legolas," she whispered. "I used to seek him all the time, and now…I…have not spoken to him in years. He does not answer...He will not hear mine."

Legolas's heart lurched in his chest at her words and he reached out and covered her hand with his. She looked immediately down at their hands and he whispered gently, "There are…there are many times in our lives when we feel that we are furthest from the One. I do not know what troubles your heart, what pain you have suffered, but I know that distance you feel. Looking back on that time, on that time when I felt that Ilúvatar was furthest from me…that was the time he was closest. The time when I shoved Him away with every ounce of my strength; that was the time that he was there, carrying me, waiting for me to reach out for His strength to take me the rest of the way through my trouble, my great sadness. If…if you reach for Him, He will find you, my Lady."

She felt tears on her face and she reached up with the hand Legolas was not covering to wipe them away. "I…feel so alone sometimes," she whispered. "I cannot see how Ilúvatar is there during that time. I cannot feel Him."

"Reach for Him," he replied, his fingers tightening over her hand, "and he will find you."

She wanted to acknowledge and respond to his encouragement, to do as he asked; but for so long she had not sought Him…and she did not have the will to do so now. Her heart was so heavy; she could not look into his face, so she continued to hide, lowering her forehead to her hand and remaining there until she could force herself back into control. She felt Legolas rest his other hand on her shoulder blade, but he said no more.

Minutes passed as hours for them both, but neither moved, and the elf said a tender prayer for the Lady in his head. Legolas felt a whisper within his soul, and part of a song softly came from his lips. It was one that he knew well, and had sung many a time here in this sanctuary. He had not intended to sing at all, but something moved him, whether it was his quiet prayer or the pleading look that had been on Enguina's sweet face. He began to sing in a soft high voice, his eyes closed and his face filled with worship:

Great is thy faithfulness, O One of all

There is no shadow of turning with thee

Thou changest not, thy compassions they fail not

As thou hast been thou forever wilt be

Great is thy faithfulness, morning by morning new mercies I see

All I have needed thy hand hath provided

Great is thy faithfulness, Lord unto me!

The song brought peace to Enguina's heart, and in the next moment it frightened her. She knew that directly, Legolas was simply singing a song of praise to Eru, but indirectly it told her so much more. He was singing to encourage her that Eru would answer her prayers, but it was also a direct message to her of what he was offering. Eru could bring her peace through him, and already she felt it stirring in her heart that He had. He was good to her; she felt the warmth in his hands. She could almost know that as she looked over into his face, he could be the one…the one that could be at her side forever. He was not as anyone she had ever known…he was not as—

Enguina physically flinched, but Legolas had not seen it; his eyes had been closed, and as he turned to her, they were now open. His face was serene, but she forced herself to look away once more. "Your song moves my heart," she said softly, and she tried to hide her face from him so he could not see her wipe the tears from her eyes again. He looked at her and smiled gently.

As you move me, Enguina. "It is Ilúvatar who asks the song to move your heart," he said softly. "Yet, I am glad that you needed the words, though I doubt it had anything to do with my singing."

Yes, Ilúvatar moves my heart when I hear your voice. A small smile came across her face, and though she tried to hide it and ignore its existence, she could not. It gave Legolas the benefit of knowing that he had touched her in some way, and that in itself was important to him. On a level beneath what he saw, he had reached her. He smiled with joy in his heart.

"I am not so sure that you are correct," she said with a light laugh. "I believe it might have much to do with it." She looked at him closely, and sighed. "Such faith you have within you, Legolas. I would be delighted if one day I might have that same faith…that same joy."

His smile grew. "I promise you that one day…you shall."

A light appeared in her eyes. "You promise?"

He squeezed her hand within his own and she felt his fingers tighten on her shoulder, and for the first time since she arrived, she did not avert her eyes or back down from that advance. His fingers interlaced with hers for a moment, and he said softly, tenderly, "I promise, dear Lady."

"Legolas—" she began softly, and suddenly, Andúnêiel came running past where they were sitting. Legolas leapt to his feet, reached forward, and scooped her off the floor. He lifted her high into his arms with a swinging motion and she laughed, giving him a wide grin. He kissed her forehead gently as Enguina stood and Éowyn came hurrying down the aisle to get her.

"Oh, dear!" she laughed, as she extended her arms to take the child from Legolas. "I had just put her down and she went scooting off down the aisle!" She looked at the girl. "Just because it is your special day does not mean this sanctuary is not still Eru's House, child." She rubbed her nose against the little girl's, who giggled, and Éowyn raised her eyes to Enguina as the elf stroked the girl's red head. "Did you see the church? Is it not beautiful?"

"Indeed, it is amazing…more than I ever imagined," Enguina replied, and Éowyn smiled.

"Arwen had told me that you would like it, though she did not know how much, I am sure. But, it is time to return to my home for the celebration. Come, both of you and follow me!" She gave a smile to Legolas, and turned and headed up the aisle. Enguina began to walk after her, but slowed so that she might walk beside Legolas a moment.

He once again rested his hand on her back, and she had expected it…had even yearned for it before his hand settled there. She gave him a smile that lit his heart even more than it already was, and he gently returned it.

"Legolas…" she said softly.

"Yes, my Lady?"

She smiled and though she hesitated, she reached up and touched her fingertips to his jaw. "Thank you," she said in that same soft voice, "for offering me your peace today."

"It was my pleasure, my Lady," he whispered in return. She looked at him.

"Please…Enguina."

As they stepped out into the light, Legolas felt a brush of Ilúvatar's peace, and he saw that Enguina felt it too as her eyes closed beneath it. He smiled; though it could have been simply the wind, he knew in his heart that it was more than that, just as they together were more than they were apart. He knew it deep within his soul. He bowed his head to her with a tender smile.

"I shall use it with reverence…Enguina," he said, his eyes filling with a joy that she could not explain. But it sent both a thrill and a lasting peace over her heart to know that it touched him deeply to even speak her name…and that was a feeling she had never felt before.