Author's Note: The song in this chapter is titled, "I Need You," by Plumb. I do not own it, nor did I write it. But the words are perfect for one of the scenes below.

It was morning at the King's House, and Arwen sat at the breakfast table cupping her hands around a mug of mint tea. Her stomach had been in an uproar since four, and there had not been much sleeping even before that as she and Aragorn had been at the celebration until very early. Aragorn had to practically carry her back to the House last evening, and she had been frustrated by her body's tiredness. She had danced with Aragorn for a few songs, and then she had to sit the rest of them out as her ankles were screaming and her feet were tired.

She felt Aragorn's hands continue to rub gently along her neck and shoulders and she leaned her head back against his ribs. "That feels so good," she whispered.

"How is your stomach?" he asked solicitously. She sighed.

"Better…the mint is helping. At least I did not heave this time."

"No, and you have been well these last few days. I think it very unlikely we will have any company for breakfast."

She smiled. "I thought perhaps Legolas," she said. "It was a very lovely celebration! After he asked Enguina to dance, she was at his side all evening."

"Yes, she was quite a dancer. I would have asked her myself, but I did not wish to steal Legolas's opportunity."

"We did not dance half as much as I would have liked," she said honestly.

Aragorn chuckled. "There will be more opportunities. Think of how many celebrations there will be once the child is born; we will be expected at every one, you know."

She turned her head, catching his hand in one of hers and pressing her lips to the back of it. "Can we not simply have one? You and I will be spending so much time with the baby, we will not wish to share it with anyone else."

"Well, if not then…perhaps a wedding next year."

Arwen laughed and lifted her chin, looking upwards into his eyes and a glimmer in hers. "I so hope so, Aragorn. That would give me such delight!"

There was a gentle knock on the door. It was still early morning, and he hoped in his heart that it was not Enguina in a right state. After last night, he had hopes that she would never be troubled by nightmares again. As he walked towards the door, he realized that he never had asked Arwen about the dreams; he put it on his list of things to discuss with his wife.

"I will get it," he said, "but before I do…we got a bit…distracted Wednesday evening, and I had a question I meant to ask you."

Arwen raised her eyebrows, reaching back over her shoulder to stroke his face from temple to chin. "Distracted, did we get, my Lord? Is that what you would call it?"

He laughed. "Legolas said he noticed that he has had someone tailing them the last few days within the Citadel. I wanted to ask you if you had asked one of the Rangers to guard Enguina."

"I…I did ask Faramir," she sighed, a bit guiltily. "Can I explain when we do not have someone at the door?"

"Legolas will be relieved that there was no evil intent," he replied. "May I ask—" The knock sounded again and he sighed. "We will continue this conversation?" He moved towards the door, still watching her face. She had no choice but to nod as he opened the door.

There Enguina stood, and he praised Ilúvatar that this time she was dressed and ready for the day, a small smile on her face. He smiled back at her and stepped out of the doorway, allowing her entrance. "Good morning, Enguina. You need not wait to enter or knock twice."

"Good morning, Aragorn. I hope I am not interrupting," she said softly. "And I know you said your home is always open for breakfast, but I was unsure with the celebration and—"

"Of course," Arwen said from the table with a smile. "Come sit. Aragorn was about to be heading out with the boys. You would not have found us if you were a few minutes later and I was feeling a bit better."

"Are you not feeling well again, Arwen?" Enguina sighed, concerned.

"It is fine," she said flippantly. "But I had intended to appease Asfaloth by walking in the stable today and…well, I do not much feel like riding."

She stared at her and then turned to look up at Aragorn as he placed a plate full of eggs and sausages before her. "Would it be safe for her?"

"Enguina—" chided Arwen, rolling her eyes.

"Yes," Aragorn said. "He would carry her safely. Arwen is a fine rider as well, which would help."

"But, you would let her ride at such a time?"

"Enguina—"

"Yes," he said, taking a seat across from Enguina with a plate of sausages and eggs in his own hand. He reached over and laid a hand on Arwen's arm to prevent her from becoming cross. "I would because she is pregnant, Enguina; she is fine. She is safe, and I would be with her every moment."

"Enguina, we were discussing going riding only days ago, remember? I was telling you that I was going to come—"

"But that was before I thought of what a terrible idea it might be! At least if you were with Aragorn, I would feel a bit safer, but with me? What would I do if something happened?" she asked, a look of horror on her face. "What if you fell off?"

"Fell off?" Arwen laughed, taking a sip of her tea. "Asfaloth? Now I know you are mad."

"Ladies, do not argue," said Aragorn with a chuckle. "Honestly, Enguina, she would be fine. She is six months along…ask me in another month or two, and I would probably give you a different answer. I would not be pleased with her riding anywhere so with child."

"And I would not be foolish enough to do so," Arwen added.

"What are you drinking?" Enguina asked suddenly. "It smells delicious."

"Mint tea," she replied. "The herb, even if it is a bit bitter, helps settle my stomach. Would you like some?"

"Please," Enguina said, and Aragorn rose to fill her a cup. He set it down before her and took his place again. "Thank you very much."

"Not a problem."

Enguina smiled at him across the table. "I saw you and Arwen dancing last evening. I have thought for the longest time that anyone she danced with at any time she would put to shame, but the two of you dancing together last evening…it was quite beautiful. I was surprised, but pleasantly. I keep forgetting you grew up among the elves in Rivendell. You should be an excellent dancer."

"Now there we disagree, Lady," Aragorn said with a smile. "Just because one grows up with elves does not make him like them. Though, I will admit that I did try very hard, particularly when I was very young and did not know better."

Enguina laughed. "I suppose that is true. It was a lovely celebration though. Can I thank you again for your kind words about my brother, and to me?"

"You can, but I wish you would not," he said softly. "Haldir was my friend, and he deserved those words as much as I wished to say them. The mallorn will grow strong in Minas Tirith, and he will always be remembered."

"Enguina," Arwen said, and she turned to look at her, "you danced quite a bit yourself last evening." She raised her eyebrows at her and smiled. "You looked absolutely beautiful dancing with Legolas. You made a good pair."

"He…is an excellent dancer," she said honestly. "He was a great partner and leader. I did very much enjoy dancing with him."

"Will you see him today?"

Enguina nodded and she took a bite of her eggs. "Yes, we are working with Gimli on the wall. He was supposed to meet me here—"

"Speak of the elf and he will appear," laughed Aragorn as he spotted Legolas through the window coming onto the front porch. "The door is open!" he called, and Legolas came right on in, grinning his good morning.

"The sun is up and it is a gorgeous day!" he said, holding the door open and letting the sunshine into the House. "Just look at it!"

"It was gorgeous when I walked over in the morning," Enguina said, and he smiled at her. "I thought that it might snow today; it looked a bit foggy over the mountains."

"Legolas, I hate to put a damper on your brilliant mood, but it is cold out this morning," Arwen said. "Can you please—"

"Oh!" he said, closing the door to the cold. "Forgive me, Arwen!"

She laughed. "There is nothing like a brisk morning to wake you up."

"Breakfast?" Aragorn asked, and Legolas waved a hand.

"Do not trouble yourself. I can help myself." He gathered some food and took a seat beside Enguina instead of across from her. "How was everyone's evening? It is fairly early; I was unsure if everyone would be awake."

Enguina laughed. "That sounds like what I said this morning when I arrived."

"We did not sleep very well," Aragorn admitted, "but there is always tomorrow." He cut up the last sausage on his plate as Legolas shook his head.

"You must always be with the people, one of the last couples to leave."

"It is who we are," Arwen said softly. "Just before you arrived, we were speaking of the dancing last evening. There were many good dances; you two made a very nice pair."

Legolas smiled even as Enguina blushed. "Guin is a lovely dancer. I was just telling Gimli last evening when we arrived at home that we should have more opportunities to dance and sing in Minas Tirith. It does not please me that I should have to wait so long to hear her sing or see her dance again."

"I am right here," Enguina reminded him, but she could not meet his eyes as he looked over at her. "And I am not so interested in singing."

"You always loved to sing," Arwen pointed out, taking a sip of her tea.

"With you," she said a bit defensively, "and when there was something to sing about."

"I am certain that you could find much to sing about in Minas Tirith," added Aragorn. "But perhaps when the time is right," he said, not wishing to push her, "our ears will be blessed to hear your voice in song."

"It is not that—"

"It is lovely as a bird's," Legolas interrupted her, "but rare as a threshing robin in Minas Tirith…and it was a privilege to hear it once."

"You are embarrassing me," Enguina said turning to look at him, and he met her eyes.

"You will have to forgive me."

"I will?" she asked, a smirk on her face.

"Yes, because we are to spend much of the day together," he admitted. "Unless you choose to make other plans, you shall have to forgive me. I did not seek to embarrass you."

"And he is right," added Arwen. "Your voice is lovely and you should sing more often. We used to sing so much in Caras Galadon when we were together. Haldir used to tell us that we sang too much and needed to be silenced." She laughed. Legolas smiled to himself. Never did I think I would be jealous of Haldir!

"Mmm," she said, nodding and remembering. "It drove him mad when we would follow him around and sing, even though we never sang anything completely irritating, and we were always on pitch—"

"And would sing in parts."

"I can hear you now," Aragorn said with a smile. "It is a pity we have not heard you together yet. Perhaps at some time during your stay, Enguina, you might be willing to sing a song with Arwen?"

"I…would love to sing with her," she said blushing, "but singing before all of you…I do not think so. I think, perhaps, I would be too embarrassed."

"You must catch her off guard," Legolas said slyly. "It is the only way to listen to a snippet of song from this lark."

Enguina rolled her eyes as Aragorn said, with a laugh on his lips, "So I must sneak around behind her, waiting for her to sing? I do not think I have enough time in the day."

Legolas smiled. "It would be well worth the wait, I assure you."

"Stop teasing her," Arwen chided them, "she is uncomfortable enough." She gave Enguina a sweet smile. "Perhaps some time in the coming weeks, she will be comfortable enough to sing with me again."

"Will you stay with us so long, Enguina?" asked Aragorn as he rose and cleared his place at the table. It was time for him to leave them.

"I cannot say," she replied softly, and no one else tried to fill in the silence or answer for her. "Perhaps if I am here, I would be willing."

Aragorn nodded, and reached out to Arwen's face, tipping her chin up with his fingers. "Will you be feeling better, beloved?" he asked softly, and she nodded, closing her eyes as he pressed his lips to the center of her forehead.

"Give my love and regrets to the boys," she replied, squeezing his hand once before she let him go. "Have a good day."

"Take the day easy," he said, and then as he walked around the table, laid a hand on Legolas's shoulder. "Enjoy the gorgeous day as well, Legolas, Enguina. I will see you for dinner."

"Thank you for breakfast," Enguina said.

"Enjoy your ride," Legolas replied. With a last look at Arwen, Aragorn was gone, leaving the rest of them to finish the breakfast.

Enguina found herself growing very accustomed to the way Legolas looked at her, revolved around her. There was no better way to put it. Their time on the wall in the morning was well-spent with Gimli's folk; the afternoon had been harrowing. Gimli had nearly fallen from the wall again with one of his kin; it had been a terrifying few moments. Between Tadin, another dwarf, and Legolas and herself, they were able to pull the two of them to safety, but she was struck by how worried Legolas had been. She had been right beside the dwarf when the rock gave way, and, acting solely on instinct, had lunged after the rope as he had fallen from the wall. Legolas had reached for her, his desperation plain on his face, wrapping his hand around her waist and then grabbing the rope she held. Thankfully, with Tadin's help, all four of them were lying on the stone in another moment.

She had been terrified for Gimli's life; it was the moment she realized that she had come to very much see him as a friend. But her terror was not her only realization; it was Legolas's terror that also struck her. He was protective of her, he had reached for her first, and his eyes had been full of relief when he had held her in his arms for only two moments when they had all collapsed on the ground. He had released her when Gimli began thanking them a hundred times over for saving his life. But Legolas's eyes…her impression of his hands…these remained with her throughout the day. She could trust him, even Arwen had said so.

They had not stayed upon the wall much longer as every one of them had called it a day soon after. Now, she and Legolas stood in the stable; Belegore had just been by greeting them, and they were once again alone. She had purchased an apple and some sugar cubes for Lómë, so she made her way towards his stall.

There was not much noise until her black caught her scent. His head came looming over the top of his door, and he gave a whinny that shook the slats between each stall. Every horse down the line that could poke their heads from their enclosures did so to see what was coming. Legolas laughed, and Enguina raised her eyebrows, reaching up to stroke Lómë's forehead.

"They speak to one another," said Legolas softly to Enguina's unvoiced question, as various whuffles went up about the stable. The bay across from them tossed his head up and down, making all sorts of strange noises that Enguina had never heard come from a horse.

She laughed. "What is the trouble with him? He looks…a bit familiar."

Legolas smiled. "That is Brego, the King's horse, but I am unsure what he is trying to tell you." He reached over to pat the bay's neck. "What is wrong, my friend? Did Aragorn forget to give you your sugar today?" The bay shook his head and snorted loudly, pulling his head back over the stall. He grabbed a pile of hay from the floor and popped his head back over, letting bits of hay fall onto Legolas. "Brego!" Legolas cried, moving away, but the bay tossed his head up and down quickly, spraying hay over both of them. Lómë nodded his head as well, and leaned his head out farther to lip some of the hay from Enguina's shoulder from across the aisle.

"Horses are strange creatures, are they not?" asked Enguina, but she was amused. As she was brushing the hay from herself, Legolas reached over and began pulling small bits from her hair. She laughed as she began on his. "And you said he is Brego? Aragorn's horse?"

"Yes, indeed!" laughed Legolas. "You may have seen him on your way into the City."

She groaned, dropping her head against Lómë's neck. "He said he would never bring it up again. You know about that as well?"

Legolas's eyes grew amused. "I knew since you were speaking about the encounter the first night," he admitted. "Aragorn was the stranger who spoke to your horse."

Enguina groaned again. "This is so embarrassing."

"Come now, you did not know any better," he said soothingly. "You knew very little of him. And beside that, how were you to know that Aragorn really knew the language of horses? It is a gift from Ilúvatar to him; I grew certain of its significance in his life a few years ago. I knew that he could do it but never what it was for until the War came. Ever has he been able to converse with them; it is as though one-sided speech to us, but he can understand what they are saying."

She nodded, still embarrassed. "I simply thought he was absurd," she said with a little laugh. "I wish I had known!"

"Nay," he replied with a smile, "that you could never have known. Now that you are aware he is not mad, what do you think of him?"

"Arwen's husband?" she asked softly, thinking as she rubbed Lómë's neck. "I think… he is the best of men," she said seriously, "and I think, even though he is a mortal, that Arwen is the luckiest being on earth to be loved by him." She whispered the last part. "He cares for her so much; you can see the love he has for others in his eyes, in the way he speaks. I thought she deserved better at first because I…had wrongful suspicions of him. I have known Arwen for so long…only the best would ever have been good enough for her." She gave him a rueful smile. "I think I know why her father was so worried; I was, too. I only ever desired for Arwen to be happy, and when I found him not returning for dinner, I thought that perhaps he was neglectful and Arwen's good mood was show."

"No," Legolas said, agreeing, "she truly is happy."

"Than ever I have seen her; surely, she is," she said, her voice growing softer. "He is the best of men," she repeated. "In fact, I have never met so many good people in one place before."

Legolas smiled at her. "Were there no good elves in Lothlórien?"

"Well, yes…but I have known them forever," she replied, glancing up at him and blushing. "There are so many here…Aragorn, Faramir…Gimli…and…" she hesitated, and he said nothing, waiting her out as she stroked her fingers along Lómë's cheek. He did not know if she had plans to continue, but he was not going to fill in the space; he wanted her to continue…wished for it… "And you," she said even more softly. She turned her head to look at him, resting her temple against Lómë's cheek. "If I had known that there could be good men, I might not have been traveling to the Undying Lands so soon."

Legolas looked gently at her. "We are not all bad."

"No," she said, and there was a sorrow behind her eyes that broke his heart, "but that has not been my experience."

"I…" he began, thinking about what he wanted to say and then deciding he was not going to gloss over it. He meant every word. "I wish I could erase whatever happened to you…I wish I could heal your heart."

She looked down, unable to hold his gaze. His talk of hearts was unnerving. "I do not think that is possible, Legolas."

He reached forward, and tilted her chin up towards him with his fingertips. He suddenly seemed so near, and the conversation had grown so serious. "You should not hide," he said tenderly, honestly. "You have a beautiful heart, Guin. You should think about your future before you run away from it."

Her normally cautious mind yelped at her. He was close, two of his warm fingers still lifting her chin, his eyes looking deep into hers. She could read into them; she could read his soul. Run away from her future? Was he talking about Minas Tirith? Himself? She knew better than to even question it; in fact, if she was able to be honest with herself, she knew damn well what he was making a reference to.

Her eyes began to fill. "I am…I am so unsure, Legolas." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she replied, her hands beginning to tremble, one still on Lómë's neck.

"What are your choices?" he asked softly, and she knew that he drew slightly nearer. She remained where she stood, her green eyes caught up in his blue. Her head was screaming now…he was too close…he was too close and there was no escape. Did she even want escape? Would she dare to try?

"To…to go to the Undying Lands to find peace…" she said, nearly breathless. He was so close she could feel his sweet breath on her face. Her eyes wanted to flutter closed; her heart, her mind knew what was coming, but she could not tear her eyes from his, could not move, could not run. She stood, frozen beside Lómë, whose mane was now tangled in her right hand. "Or…or to stay…"

"To stay…" he said softly, and the pull in his heart was too great to ignore. How could he hide his love for her any longer when every part of him wished her to believe in it? He could not bear the thought of a day without being beside her; he wanted…needed her to remain. "You could make your peace here," he said, his voice no louder than the softest whisper. "Stay…"

"Stay…?" she began; in her voice was an unspoken question, but her voice faded as his brow brushed against hers.

"Stay…" he said, his voice a bit stronger, and this time, she could not stop her eyes from closing. She could smell his breath, feel the warmth of it on her lips, and though her mind was howling, her heart was shouting for it, begging for him to close the last inch between them.

"Legolas…" she whispered, and she did not know what she had meant by uttering his name.

That first kiss, that first touch of his lip to hers was barely a touch…but it was enough. Had she been about to beg him for mercy; oh god, stop, in terror? Had she been about to beg him to kiss her; oh god, please, in passion? Had she been thinking that saying his name might stall him another moment for her to gather her wits? She had no idea what she had intended, but she was completely unprepared for this…this…whatever this was. She shivered beneath the touch of his lips, her chin still supported by his fingers.

Feelings poured through her, and her eyes came open and found him looking into them. Behind her eyes he watched the emotions; bliss, joy, worry, fear, sorrow. He did not know them, know why, but she felt it. Bliss, for love she had never known, did not know how to acknowledge; joy, for he wanted to be with her; worry, what was she doing; fear, she had kissed a man before and then the terror that ensued; and sorrow…that she would never be able to enjoy whatever he had to give her…and that she would never be able to give it back to him.

A matter of a second or two; that was all it took. The fingers that had been tangled into Lómë's mane came undone, hands trembling, nerves and emotions on fire…on fire! And the two fingers that now rested against her chin, keeping her face tilted towards him were as a prison—and a memory or a bruising grip holding her lower jaw flashed through her mind. She began to retreat, backing away, shaking her head, feeling a thousand things in the moment his lips brushed hers; now they confused her, tortured her. Her shoulders and back pressed up against the stall and she was suddenly trapped…trapped and terrified.

"Guin…" he said softly, for once at an absolute loss for words. He had no idea what to do, how to respond! Ask her to stay? Try to speak with her? Prevent her from leaving? If she ran now, would he ever see her again? His heart was shredding, staring into her terrified eyes. She had to know what he was feeling, but he could see that she was afraid of what she was feeling. But was her fear of what she was feeling? Was it something more?

The eyes he was staring into began to fill, but she refused the tears from falling even as she began to shake her head. "No, no," he said softly, "it is all right."

"I…Legolas…I cannot." Her voice barely above a whisper, still she could not tear her eyes from his, but o! how desperately she wanted to!

"Let me bear this burden you carry," he whispered, offering his heart to her in not so many words. "Guin, it will be all right."

"No..." she stuttered, "I am not who I was; I cannot be! Please, I…forgive me, forgive me. Please…" Her breath caught and she could not continue, but she was frozen where she stood, her terrified, sorrowful, tear-filled eyes frozen fast upon his.

Legolas suddenly realized in that instant that only he could free her; he could keep her, or he could set her free to make her own choice. He had to let her go. Carefully withdrawing his fingers from her chin, he drew back a step, but it was just enough room for her to slip past him and escape from the prison between his chest and the stall door. She was gone before he even had time to turn and follow her out with his eyes. He did not try to call her back.

He saw the traces in the sawdust upon the stable floor where each soft foot had stepped. He sank down into the haystack that they had sat in just days ago, and, groaning, dropped his face into his hands.

"Oh, you fool…" he muttered, "what have you done?"

He had allowed himself too much; he had seen her last night and had fallen so far, so fast, that he could not see in his mind any other way for this to end than in her love for him. He had seen it in her eyes last night; felt it in the way she held his hand. She had to know what he felt; could she have been denying that what had drawn them closer was love? They teased, they were courting without so many words; they had spent hours upon hours of every day together…how could she not know he was in love with her?

But shame on him! He was a fool in love…a fool in love with her. Had he not been telling Gimli just last night that he had not confessed his love, had not kissed her yet? How could he have done such a thing, to scare her, frighten her? He knew that she had been overwhelmed by the kiss, had known she would be hours ago.

Oh, what a fool he had been!

To go…or not?

Enguina paced from her bedroom towards the kitchen, wringing her hands. She would not go, she decided. The King's House could do without her for an evening. No one would wonder where she was because Legolas would tell them all how completely absurd she was, and everyone would have a good laugh, especially the dwarf and the elf, about what a completely unbelievable child she was. She would go to the Undying Lands tomorrow, unable to face Legolas…or Arwen…or anyone else.

She turned, pacing from the kitchen back along the hall to her bedroom, chewing the inside of her lips. She would go, she decided. The King's House could not possibly do without her for an evening and everyone would wonder where she was because she had never failed to show before and Legolas would never breathe one word about what had happened because no matter how terrified she was, he would never do anything to hurt her because, as she had told him earlier, he was a good man.

She threw herself down on her bed, burying her head back beneath her pillow where it had been since she had run here from the stable. She knew he would not follow her, knew he would not stop her, knew he would not call her back or interrupt the mood she now found herself in. He was too kind for that. What was she doing? All this time, what had been her expectation? She was a fool.

Had he not made his every intention known since the first day they had met? Had he not sought her out at every turn? Had he not made himself perfectly clear when he had told her that all their faults were out in the open and it was not enough to scare him away? But, no…they had left out their major faults. Hers, Bragolaur, his…that he was relentless in his pursuit. Although, perhaps even there he had hidden nothing. She, on the other hand, had so much to hide.

She could not pretend it had never happened. It had happened, and at times it still happened in her dreams, haunted her, tortured her. And what was she to tell him when he found out about her night terrors, those evenings when she could not be alone and ran to Arwen's home? How was she to explain herself without telling the truth about what had happened? He would want to know…and she would be unable to tell him…and then he would leave…

Her heart broke; no, no she could never allow herself to go through that! She could never allow herself to let it go so far and have him leave her! She would be so broken that she would never breathe again. Ilúvatar was so far from her! She rolled upright, tears on her face; she had prayed for so long; she had reached for Ilúvatar so many times, only to have him ignore her. But here, now, though she had not prayed in years, she reached out again for the only One who could find a way for her…she was one in millions, but perhaps He would be listening this time…perhaps He would hear her.

Everyone has a story to tell and everyone has a wound to be healed

I want to believe there is beauty here

Oh, I get so tired of holding on; I cannot let go I cannot move on

I want to believe there is meaning here

How many times have you heard me cry out, 'god, please take this!'

How many times have you given me strength to just keep breathing?

Oh I need you; god, I need you now!

Standing on a road I did not plan wondering how I got to where I am

I am trying to hear that still small voice

I am trying to hear above the noise!

How many times have you heard me cry out, 'god, please take this!'

How many times have you given me strength to just keep breathing?

Oh I need you; god, I need you now!

Oh I walk, oh I walk through the shadows and I am so afraid

Please stay, please stay right beside me

With every single step I take

How many times have you heard me cry out, 'god, please take this!'

How many times have you given me strength to just keep breathing?

Oh I need you; god, I need you now!

She cried, her hands covering her face, trying to find a shred of comfort. No, if Legolas was going to leave her at some time when he found out, it was better if she was gone…it was better to leave tonight…right now, in fact, and never, ever have to face him again. She would never have to tell Arwen farewell, and she could be off to the Undying Lands in moments. She threw herself to her feet, her intentions set as she began gathering her things.

But…her feet stilled in their motion. Something drew her hand to her face.

Her lips burned in memory, and with her fingertips against them, she found herself before the mirror atop the dresser nearest her bed. She looked at her own features. Her fingers trembled as she remembered that brief brush. She had been terrified…but she had not been terrified of him. She was terrified of her own actions, her own feelings, the unknown of how Legolas would respond, how Legolas would treat her once he knew. The kiss…well…

Her eyes fluttered closed as she remembered that fire she had felt, unquenchable. She had never felt that way before; in a moment, it had flooded her, filled her from head to toe. It made her jittery; it had made her want to reach forward and wrap her hands in his hair instead of Lómë's and keep him there so she could feel his lips against hers for longer than just a brush. She had felt love for him…unlike anything she had ever felt for another person in her entire existence. She had been searching for it forever…her whole life…and she had not wanted it to end. Perhaps that was also what had frightened her: a lifetime's worth of searching and she had found her heart's desire when she had all but given up. What she had told Arwen on that first day in Minas Tirith had been true: she had every intention of finding peace in Valinor, in going to Valinor…

And now what? Could she really just ride out of Minas Tirith and never look back? She would curse herself every day. Flinging down what she had picked up, she opened her eyes and scowled at her reflection. She thought of the words Arwen had spoken from only a few nights ago. Are you going to let him rule your heart? Are you going to miss out on everything that you could have?

She did not want to answer 'yes' to either of those questions as she leaned her hands against the dresser and rested all of her weight on them, staring at her reflection. But her hands trembled. She was afraid…and fear had been her primary motivator for the last thirty-odd years. But…she knew very well who had stilled her feet, caused her to remember that kiss, caused her to question her choice. So the question still remained…

To go…or not?