Lying in bed and watching Legolas in the moonlight shining in through the window were two of Enguina's favorite things. She had discovered this nearly two months ago when he had remained in her home long before they had even discussed him doing it. Unsure what it was exactly that made her heart flutter, she simply enjoyed it. At the moment, he was reading a book and she, who he assumed was asleep, was secretly watching him. Or, as it turned out, not so secretly.

"Since you are not sleeping yet," Legolas said softly, "I suppose I can still talk to you."

"It depends," she whispered back.

He lowered the book and raised his eyebrows. "On what?"

"On what you want to talk about."

"You and the Embrasure."

"Definitely not," she replied, closing her eyes. "Good night."

He set the book down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "We need to."

"No."

"We need to," he repeated.

"No, we do not," she denied adamantly. "I do not have to say anything else about it. I am tired. I want to sleep."

"A moment ago, you were lying there staring at me. Now you are tired?"

She groaned. "Stop. You are even more stubborn than I am. I could just…kill Arwen sometimes," she complained. "Can you not forget she said anything?

"This is not something I can forget about."

"You were not supposed to hear it to begin with, to find out about it," she mumbled, refusing to open her eyes. She could already tell how hot her cheeks were; how red her face must appear!

"So you never would have told me?" The sorrow in his voice was plain. "You never would have said a word if Arwen had not slipped by accident?"

"It does not matter."

"It does." She glared at him, but he did not flinch. "It matters hugely."

"It happened, but nothing happened," she stated. "It was the same night that Arwen and I argued. If you must know, she and I argued out at the Embrasure—"

"The argument," Legolas began incredulously, "made you want to—"

"No, the argument was after." She sighed and opened her eyes. "Must we talk about this? Why is it so important to you?"

"Why?" he asked softly, and she suddenly had the distinct impression that he was furious. "Why? Because the woman I love and adore thought her life was so deplorable, so undeniably unbearable that she could think of nothing else to do with herself but throw her body from the seventh level of Minas Tirith. For Heaven's sake, Guin, why is this important to me? We are getting married in less than two weeks!" He rubbed his face hard with his hands and hid his eyes from her. "It is like you do not even think about the fact that we are about to share everything…and I do mean everything…and you keep forgetting that I exist."

She looked horrified, sitting up. "I—what?"

He smiled grimly at her. "Perhaps I did not mean that quite the way it sounded."

"I should hope not!"

He sighed and reached out, taking her hands in his own. "Enguina, you are used to doing everything on your own, for yourself, and finding that you do not have the strength to do it alone. Can you not trust me? Can you not…lean on me for help, for strength?" He looked up into her eyes. "I want to help you. Why did you not run to me when you had the dream? No, instead, you ran for the fastest way out—"

"It was easy," she said bluntly. "Legolas, did you not hear the story I spent nearly all day crying over yesterday?"

"Yes," he said gently, "I heard it."

She shook her head. "I am not fixed, Legolas. I am just as broken as I was three days ago; in some ways, even more broken. The dreams are worse and there is only one reason I am not running for that Embrasure right now, never mind last night when they were happening. The only reason is you." Tears pooled in her eyes. "I ran for the edge of my existence that night because I could not cope with the pain. I had nothing to fall back on; I felt abandoned, exhausted, and I could see no end in sight. I thought that the faster I leapt, perhaps the faster I would see the end of it all. I just wanted it to stop.

"And that was the moment Arwen came upon me, just as I was about to hurtle hundreds of feet to my death," she whispered. "I said some…awful things to her, and she told me the truth about a great many things, as you already know. I told her that everyone would go on living without me."

"That is not—"

"I know, Legolas," she said, sighing with her whole body. "Remember, this happened days ago."

"One day ago, moina quén." He looked at her pointedly. "You have some very mistaken impressions about how I love you."

"Perhaps someday," she whispered, "I will come to understand the way you love me, and feel deserving of it…though I cannot imagine ever feeling as though I deserve it."

"Guin, you cannot possibly comprehend how much I love you, how much I need you in my life." He looked down at their hands and swallowed hard. "I cannot stop picturing you, running towards the Embrasure as though Bragolaur was chasing you, reaching for you. I cannot imagine a day in my life where I no longer have you beside me. I…" He shook his head. "Guin, your death would destroy my heart."

"Arwen told me that," she whispered. "She told me and I did not even want to listen. I was so angry…but after our fight…I realized that she was right, that I needed to tell you the truth. So I did." She reached up and touched his face. "Legolas, I cannot…I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I did not think through what I was doing. I reacted to the dream, so tired and full of agony, and I ran without thinking at all. I am more sorry than I can ever say; I never meant to hurt you."

"You never meant for me to find out."

She chewed her lower lip. "No, and I am sorry for that more than for making the choice in the first place. I thought you would be angry—"

"I am," he sighed, and she lifted her head, feeling miserable. "You have to remember we are to be married. We are going to share everything, stories, problems, secrets, a bedroom." He raised his eyebrows. "And you are going to have to come to terms with trusting me with…everything from the clothes you wear to the food you eat, to the most intimate details of your life."

She swallowed uncomfortably. "Does that not bother you?"

"I am a little worried about you sleeping on the side of the bed that I most enjoy," he admitted.

She looked terrified, as though she wanted to please him. "I promise I will not—"

"I am teasing you," he said seriously and she blushed furiously. "Yes, I am unnerved by it. I have been alone for so long that I cannot imagine what sharing everything will be like. But do you know what? I am excited to be sharing everything with you…even the annoying or awful things. I want to know everything about you, and I want you to know everything about me. And you know what? If there is fear, it will be our fear together. If there is any doubt, it will be our doubt together. Marriage to you is going to be an adventure, and I am going to love every moment of figuring it out with you. All right?"

She looked at him, wondering how in the world she could possibly have become this lucky, wondering what in the world she had done to deserve this man who loved her. "All right," she whispered.

"So because of that, there will be no more late night Embrasure visits unless I am walking with you, and there will be no more running to anyone but me…unless I suddenly become a monster and you do not recognize me for some reason I cannot understand."

She laughed quietly, still trying to steady her emotions. "I promise."

"I love you, you know," he whispered, leaning close to her and she closed the gap between their lips. When the kiss had ended, she rested her forehead upon his and sighed softly, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach.

"I do know, and I love you, too."

It was three hours after Enguina had left with Arwen to ride near the Anduin. Legolas had offered to come once again, but Arwen had informed him that they were only going for a short ride and then they had 'wedding' things to do, so they would see him for supper. Being on his own for the first time in some time was disturbing, and he hardly wanted to be long from Enguina's side. Four days they had now been back in Minas Tirith and that meant it was now ten days to the wedding. He could not believe it was so near and yet, so far away! And where in the world was his father? Where was Éomer? The questions brought up at last evening's supper table clouded his mind. He hoped he would not have to postpone the wedding because they had not yet arrived!

Shaking his head, he stroked Brethil's nose. The stallion was fully recovered from the injuries he had sustained in the attack from Bragolaur's men and Legolas was very glad to see it. "Brethil, something…incredibly good is going to happen today," he said, rubbing the grey's forehead. "I can feel it. Have you ever had such a day?" Brethil snorted and nosed him hard in the chest. "I can guess that you are wondering why we did not set out with Lómë and Asfaloth today. The ladies wanted some time alone." He rolled his eyes and Brethil sighed low and long. "Yes, my thought exactly."

Legolas leaned against the wall and watched his horse turn back to his hay. Both he and Brethil were recovered, but he still worried immensely for Enguina. Yes, she had come a long way from Bragolaur's attack on her, but she was still recovering and might be recovering for several months yet. Legolas smiled; he knew that it was not only his presence that she needed. She needed to lighten her mood. Perhaps…perhaps he could play a few jokes on her in the next few days. It would not be a bad idea; simple, harmless teases that might make her laugh.

As he leaned against the wall trying to sort out what his plan should be, Brethil came to the front of the stall and stood at attention, poking his head over to get a view of the aisle. He whinnied loudly, a clear greeting, and Legolas patted him lightly on the shoulder.

"Honestly, Brethil? Have they returned from the Anduin already?"

He peered over the stall and was suddenly in shock. Walking down the aisle was his father, the King of Eryn Lasgalen, leading his palomino gelding, trailed on his right and left by two guards walking their greys. Dressed in traveling clothes, even dirt could not detract from the handsome figure that Thranduil cut as he came down towards the empty stalls near the end of the barn. The horses were whinnying their greetings as Thranduil drew closer. He was taller even than Legolas, and had always carried himself with a regal air since Legolas was a child. Stronger than almost anyone Legolas had ever known, his flaxen hair cascaded down past his shoulders. Large hands full of power and broad shoulders that led to a ramrod straight spine, his father had always represented what he thought a King should really be. It was Thranduil's green eyes that brought him back to the present. Always, those eyes reminded him of the joy his father once had…and how all of that had been taken away. And in wonderment, he stood, unmoving, confused at the thought that he could bring back joy to Enguina's life—why not his father's?

Ducking underneath the rope keeping Brethil in his stall, Legolas stepped out into the aisle and surprised his father. "Suilaid, Adar," he said, grinning, surprising even himself with how delighted he was that his father was finally here.

"Legolas!" Thranduil exclaimed, and the pleasure of seeing his son came over his face easily. Smiling, he dropped the palomino's reins and reached out for him. The younger elf immediately entered his arms and then two of them hugged hard. Thranduil held him by the upper arms after the hug so he could not move aside. "My boy, it is so good to see you. You look well!"

"As do you, Adar," he replied honestly. Thranduil could see the light in his eyes. "I am so glad you are here. I was afraid you might not arrive in time."

"I was determined to be here," Thranduil stated firmly, then he smirked. "You have grown since I saw you last."

Legolas groaned. "You say that every time you see me."

"It is simply because I only see you once every seven to ten years," Thranduil replied, raising an eyebrow.

"I have been full grown for three thousand years, Adar. Do you not think it is a bit ridiculous?"

"If I saw you more often," he said more sternly, "I might stop." Legolas rolled his eyes and Thranduil smiled. "When I received your notice I was more than a little surprised."

Legolas looked him full in the face and the younger elf's eyes seemed to sparkle. "I…I am finally getting married," he said, his voice full of awe. "Even I cannot believe it. Ten days!"

"Yes," Thranduil said, nodding. "I was…I feel as though there is a giant hole in my knowledge of what has been going on with you in the last seven years. Why did you never write? Why did you not tell me of this woman who has captured your heart?"

Legolas shook his head, blushing. "Adar, it is complicated."

Thranduil laughed and his son looked at him in surprise as he laid a hand upon his face, grinning. "What about love is not complicated, my boy?"

"I am willing to tell the tale," he responded, "but shortly." Legolas looked behind him and grinned as he recognized the two guards, Fânrim and Otsul, and greeted them both warmly. The two elves were also blonde-haired but aside from that appeared nothing alike. "Could not my father journey alone?" he teased, and Fânrim shook his head.

"Prince Legolas, I would be unfitting of my duties if I were to allow your father to travel alone."

"No matter what I tried to convince him," grumbled Thranduil.

Legolas smiled. Yes, there you are, my most serious father. "Well, I am glad you have both come to Minas Tirith as well. I am getting married!"

Fânrim laughed. "Yes, we know!"

"Your father held quite the celebration when he discovered it in the last communication you sent," Otsul said and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "I think there may have been more liquor at the party than there will be at your wedding!"

"Guaranteed, my friend," Legolas replied, and he looked at his father, raising his eyebrows. "How long did the party last?"

"Until every drop was drained," Thranduil said honestly, picking up the reins of the palomino. "It went on for…well, days." He smiled. "I wish you could have seen it; everyone was rejoicing in your honor."

Legolas smiled, but shook his head. "I would only have been embarrassed." He reached out and patted the golden horse on the neck. "Ah, Maltan," he said as the horse snorted, "how are you?"

"He is well, though this will be his last, long journey," Thranduil explained. "It simply is not fair to him anymore, as old as he is. Is that not correct, my old friend?" The richly golden-haired gelding threw his head, and Thranduil smiled.

"Is it only the three of you that came?" Legolas asked softly, glancing around, and Thranduil sighed.

"Yes, do not look for her," he replied gently. "She wanted to come with all her heart, but Tauriel had to remain for her duties." Legolas looked down, thinking he should not say what he was about to, but he could not hold himself back, saddened by the news.

"Is that because you came?"

Thranduil frowned. "The Greenwood must be defended, Legolas," he said, but his voice was soft, not firm. "I know it is difficult for you to understand, but there is no one else I would trust aside from her to defend it without me within the Wood, or you. She sends her deepest wish for your happiness, and is looking forward for you to visit so that she might meet your new wife." Legolas nodded, but said nothing and Thranduil set his hand on his son's shoulder. "She wanted to be here, Legolas, but she was needed."

"Did you make her stay?" He regretted asking the question as soon as it left his mouth, and Fânrim and Otsul were still, waiting for the reply as well. Thranduil felt the world against him.

"Is that what matters to you?" Thranduil asked, frowning even more deeply, hurt by the question, even though he refused to show it. "Even were I to tell you the truth, would you believe me?"

"I would," Legolas said firmly. "I can see truth in your eyes, Adar."

"She chose to stay; she was needed. I understand your sadness, but…she does not love you any less by not being here. Do not take it so hard, so personally." He turned Legolas's words around so that the question directed toward him was not answered so directly. He was not lying; Tauriel had chosen to stay. "You are great friends; you always have been, and will see one another soon."

Legolas eyed his father, but could say nothing more. If Tauriel had chosen to stay, then she had chosen to stay…though it did make him sad. Still, his father was here, at least, and if he were to truly be honest with himself, he had known Tauriel would not make the journey anyway.

"Well," he said, sighing, "let me help the three of you settle your horses in, and then perhaps I can begin showing you around a bit of Minas Tirith?"

"Is your bride included in that showing?" Thranduil asked, following him with his eyes as Legolas moved ahead of them. "I expected to find the two of you together." He tried, as Legolas clearly was doing, to put the conversation of Tauriel behind them.

"She and the Queen have taken some time for riding this morning. I am certain that we will see them for dinner, no doubt." He smiled. "In the meantime, you shall have to make-do with only myself for company."

"I think I can manage," his father replied, draping his arm over Legolas's shoulder. The three newcomers walked with Legolas to the empty stalls.

The morning sun was shining down and the Anduin was flowing loudly as Enguina and Arwen lay side-by-side on the banks of the Anduin while their horses grazed in the lush green grass. It was a gorgeous spring day, and Enguina thought of all of the things she had to do today when they arrived back at the Citadel. They were to investigate three bakeries for some desserts, go to another dress fitting, and then head to the church for some final decorating ideas. Thankfully, Arwen had been willing to join her, for she never would have had the mind to remember to do it all herself. Planning for a wedding was exhausting!

Running her fingers through the long grass above her head, Enguina sighed. She soaked up as much of the sun as she could, being dressed in only her undergarments at the moment. She had been shy at first, with all of her scars from the recent events, but then she figured Arwen already knew of them. Now, feeling better than she had in weeks, she sighed again.

"If only every day could be like today."

Arwen chuckled. "Just think, in a month or so, you can come down here swimming and lie half-naked on the bank with Legolas," she said slyly. She knew it was coming, but she was still unprepared for Enguina's hand slapping against the skin of her stomach. Arwen flinched and laughed as she rolled onto her side. "I am sorry!"

"You are not!" Enguina cried, rolling her eyes. "And do not talk about swimming. I do not want to experience water like that for at least several more years. I can wait, thank you."

"Dearest, you were just swimming."

"That was on horseback, Arwen; hardly the same situation. Remember when I was trying to explain that to Gimli last night at supper? Lómë will protect me from the water. I nearly drowned in it the last time. Can you not recall?"

"How could I forget?" she asked softly. "I thought Aragorn was dying. The whole event was so terrifying, none of us would ever forget."

"He is always doing that," Enguina said, "doing something utterly mad and then suffering for it."

Arwen laughed. "You have no idea."

"How is his shoulder?"

"Better," Arwen replied. "It has not completely healed, but after visiting the Houses upon our return it is finally healing well. I think he needs to rest it more than he does. It is difficult to slow Aragorn down." There was a pleasant silence between them and then Arwen spoke again. "You seem more relaxed than when we came to Minas Tirith from the journey. That makes my heart feel joy."

Enguina hated when she admitted Arwen was right about something, but this could not deny. "Things between Legolas and I have been…better…since that night…except when someone could not keep their trap shut last night about a certain something they should not have mentioned." When she was met with silence, she propped herself up on her elbow and looked at Arwen, fingers deep in the grass. "You were right; I should not have kept it a secret from him…or even tried to. But you were wrong to mention it. I…would have told him."

Arwen did not turn her head to look at her; instead, she kept her eyes closed. "I hope you would have," she replied. "I suppose I need to trust you with your own well-being…but it is…difficult."

Enguina stared at her. "You know, I do not have an excellent history with taking care of myself," she admitted, her voice filled with guilt. "I suppose I cannot blame you for not trusting me."

"I do, however, trust Legolas with you. I was trying to make sure you were taken care of, and I am sorry if I embarrassed you, but I thought it was too important to forget to say."

"It was." Enguina dropped back into the grass. "It is only that I would have no reason to do that now; not after clearing the air with Legolas, telling him the truth about what happened. It has not made things any easier, but it has taken away some of the pain and anxiety I have been feeling."

"It has not made things easier?" she asked incredulously. "Is that what you said?"

"Yes," she replied softly. "I have had the nightmare twelve times within the last three evenings. Last night I could hardly sit up, I was shaking so badly." She picked at her own nails and then picked at the grass, trying to find something to do with her hands other than wring them. "I almost retched all over him and the bed and the floor…I had no self-control. If he had not been there, holding me, I would have run out. I know I would have." She looked over at Arwen again to find her studying her face. "Why do I always hurt him?" she asked miserably. "I always say or do the wrong thing. The last thing on earth he would ever do is let me go, yet that is the first thing I ask of him. He always says no, and then I fight with him to release me, and only after several minutes of sheer panic does my mind come back to itself and I remember."

"And not three seconds later you are reaching for him and you cannot get close enough."

"Yes! Why am I like that?"

"It is the war within you. Part of you wants to be alone, to suffer in silence, to wait out the storm and figure it out on your own. The other part wants to run to him, to cling to him and hold on for dear life, to trust him with your pain. These two are always at war, Enguina…and always will be. No matter how long you are married, that will not change."

"I hate it," she growled. "Why can I not trust him as you do Aragorn?"

"There are times when I run to Aragorn, and there are times I try to run away. I will admit that I run to him more often than not. But you must have patience with yourself. You are learning to share your burdens, Enguina, and you are making progress. Legolas has patience enough for you."

"In this, yes…though why I do not know."

"Love."

"Ah, yes…love." She sighed. "I cannot believe I am going to be married to Legolas in ten days."

"Is it not wonderful?" laughed Arwen. "I am so unbelievably excited for you, so full of hope."

"Legolas and I were speaking last night about sharing things." Enguina swallowed hard, folded her hands and crossed them behind her head, staring at the sky above her head as she blushed. "I am so worried about that."

"Sharing?"

"Well, sharing everything, yes. Legolas is a very early riser; I am not. What if he enjoys sleeping across the whole bed? How does one…how does one adjust to living life with another person when they have been alone for so long? I cannot imagine it…and I am embarrassed about it."

"It is challenging," Arwen admitted. "Sometimes it is more difficult than others. In the beginning, things can be a bit awkward and privacy is almost non-existent. Eventually, you become…used to that other person, their habits, their way of living and because both of you want to please the other, you compromise, coexist, and make life enjoyable for the other."

"You and Aragorn…" Enguina began, and she stopped herself when she was about to say something about a perfect life. Her embarrassment was plain.

"Thank you," Arwen said softly. "Thank you for holding back. I did not need to hear that again."

"I am sorry," she sighed. "Sometimes I cannot help but feel that your life is so good…and then I remember, and then I am ashamed."

"Your pain is glaring, Enguina. It is standing in front of your face and you cannot see past it. No one expects you to."

"But you are not like that," she replied. "You have had this pain pressing on you for months now, yet you have put it aside to make time for me, to comfort me and give me more grace than I deserve, taking me into your home as well." Arwen was silent, and when she said nothing to further the conversation, Enguina realized that complimenting her friend was useless; it was clear Arwen did not want to talk about her own loss today. Would she ever? She moved on, deciding instead to return to talk about herself.

"I wish I could stop having nightmares about Bragolaur," she whispered, and then smiled. "Instead, I wish I would start dreaming about Legolas and how wonderful it will be once we are wed. But…I cannot seem to be rid of the negative. I hate it; I wish I could wake feeling something other than terror, sadness."

Arwen smiled slyly. "Perhaps you could wake feeling some desire if you were dreaming of Legolas."

Enguina rolled her eyes. "Honestly? There is already enough of that to go around." Arwen glanced at her and watched a red flush cover her face and throat.

Eyebrows raised, Arwen propped herself up on her arm. "Is there a story to be told here?"

"Not really. Legolas was just…he was trying to be very serious about my honor but I felt so…so strange." She sighed. "He was struggling not to touch me; I know he was and before I fell asleep there was something in his eyes…"

"That is your desire for him, Enguina," she told the older elf gently, "and his for you."

"Bragolaur's desire is all I have ever known, Arwen, and that has always disgusted me. Why is it different that Legolas wants me? Is it not the same desire?"

"No," Arwen explained. "Legolas loves you, truly, Enguina, but Bragolaur did not. He desired you for one thing alone, to use…and then to cast you aside." She shook her head, disgusted. "Legolas, on the other hand, loved you first…and because of that love, now desires you. The love you share with Legolas is a mutual respect for one another. You care for each other, and that is what matters. Bragolaur did not care if he wounded you."

Enguina watched her for a moment as Arwen's eyes remained on the sky. "I wish you had not been the one to take his life. I wish—"

"What is done is done," she interrupted, but with a frown. "There could have been no other result, no trial that would have ended with any other sentence…not for what he had done. I am not sorry, Enguina. You should not be either."

"I am…because y-you killed him."

"Would you not have done the same had you been free?"

"I…would have tried," she replied guiltily. "But I am the one who has been wronged—"

"And I am the one who finished it," Arwen ended simply. "And it would be best to leave it there. Back to Legolas." She paused a moment for Enguina to collect her thoughts. "As I said before, Legolas loves you, therefore, he desires you…and more." She gave a little smile and turned her head back to Enguina to catch her staring at her. "What is it?"

"You," she said, her tone a bit annoyed. "Why is it that every time I wish to discuss something that relates to you, you are always changing the subject? Why is it that I am always letting you control the conversation?"

Arwen shrugged. "Because…and this day is for you, not me. Now…Legolas…" she insisted, and Enguina rolled her eyes. As if that were an answer, Arwen. 'Because.' I feel as though I am speaking to my mother.

"Fine, Legolas. I will say one more thing about him…and then we really should be getting home. Legolas will be wondering what happened to us, and well, you are the Queen."

Arwen sighed. "Thank you for pointing that out," she said dryly.

"What I cannot understand is why I feel this…desire, as you say, for Legolas," Enguina continued. "Because of what happened, I should…I should not want him to be so near me. But…when he kisses me I do not want him to stop. His touch is like fire; when he touches me I forget the world; I forget, for a few minutes, what happened to me. I did not expect that." She hesitated. "Arwen, do you really think it is possible that I could let Legolas touch me that way and want it? That he could touch me like that and I would not think of Bragolaur doing it? I am so afraid of seeing Bragolaur that I am afraid of our wedding night." She looked away, her cheeks burning with shame. "Legolas tells me that it would not matter if it took us one hundred years to make love to one another, but I…I do not want that to happen. I know, no matter what he says, that he does not want that either."

"Enguina, the only way you are going to see Bragolaur in Legolas is if you impose his image over the elf's face," Arwen said patiently. "You love him, and you desire him. Nothing will change that, not even Bragolaur. Nothing Legolas does is violent."

"Arwen, is desire not wrong? Is it not wrong to feel lustful towards someone?" she asked awkwardly. "I think I am beginning to feel awkward around Legolas because I am ready to want him, I-I do want him. And sleeping beside him these last few weeks has not made it any easier. Why was it wrong when it was Bragolaur who desired me, but it is not wrong when it is me who has desire for Legolas? Why is one wrong and the other natural?"

Arwen sat up slowly, dragging her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them and resting her head on them, looking sideways at Enguina lying there in the grass. "Enguina," she prompted, but Enguina did not look, still embarrassed from saying the words aloud. "Enguina, look at me." The older elf turned her head and frowned, meeting Arwen's eyes, hers full of confusion. "Desire, by itself, is not wrong," she replied. "It is when desire is coupled with inappropriate action that it is wrong. Someone who acts on their desire either out of wedlock or by forcing themselves on someone else, these are inappropriate actions coupled with desire. You, who are to enter into marriage with Legolas, desire him because you love him, just as he does you. Remember, I just explained that. You did not desire him first; it is acting inappropriately on desire that makes it wrong."

"And my desire to…to…to love Legolas physically, that is not inappropriate?" she asked again, trying desperately to reassure herself. "It is not inappropriate because I love him?" Arwen shook her head, smiling.

"No, that is not the reason it is not inappropriate. It is because you are not acting on that desire. You and Legolas, though you are sharing the same bed because of your dreams, are not sharing each other. Not yet. That would be inappropriate."

She blushed. "In my household, sharing the same bed with any woman for any reason would be deemed inappropriate."

"In mine as well," Arwen admitted. "But you have special circumstances."

"Did you and Aragorn—?" Enguina halted when she realized she had no right to ask that question of Arwen, and she did not even want to know the answer. "No, forget I—"

"My situation was entirely different than yours, but no…Aragorn and I never shared a bed, for any reason," she told her honestly. Then she shook her head. "I suppose that is not true. We did share a bed once—and a divan—but they were innocent occasions. Nothing like what you are talking."

"But you said that you did desire him before you were wed, yes? So I am not so strange?"

"Enguina, forget before I was wed," she said with a laugh. "If I desired Aragorn before, it pales in comparison to how much I desire him now," she told her. "Enguina, when I told you before that nothing can prepare you for what making love is really like, I meant it. There is nothing like the man you adore beside you as you are learning him, as he is learning you. I cannot…I wish I could tell you about my anticipation before we were wed. I was afraid; I was just as afraid as you, but for different reasons. I was afraid I would not be good enough for him, and I was so unsure. I was a virgin, just as you, and even though I wanted to give myself to him, I did not know what I was doing. I was afraid I would do something wrong, that I would not be what he wanted, that I would not please him." She shook her head. "Oh Enguina, I was so wrong! And I was wrong because Aragorn was just as afraid and unsure as I was."

"How…did you find out?"

"When I lost myself to tears the moment we crossed the threshold of the sitting room and I could see through the door into what was to be our bed," she answered, smiling sheepishly. "I could barely explain myself, and I could not stop trembling, even though I wanted him…more than anything I had ever known. He had to explain that we would learn together." She laughed, waving her hand. "Oh, everyone knows the technical nature of love-making, Enguina; do not misunderstand me! But when both of you, as you and Legolas, have never been with another person, there is no right or wrong. It is yours. And whatever you make of it will be wonderful, and special…and beautiful.

"And that, Enguina, is the reason I desire Aragorn more now than I ever did. To know what we have shared together…" she swallowed, a bit embarrassed by the burning in her eyes, "to have given myself to him, to have learned each other the way we have… There are moments when I can think of nothing but the next time I will be lying beside him, touching his skin, feeling his strength, dragging my nails along the muscles of his back." She watched Enguina blush and cover her face with one hand. "I do not mean to embarrass you; perhaps the image of the two of us together is too much," she said honestly. "Forgive me. I was just trying to explain—"

"No, it is not…embarrassing, exactly," Enguina whispered. "I…just cannot stop myself from thinking about Legolas that way, and that is what embarrasses me."

"I belong to Aragorn, and he belongs to me," she said. "We can share our desire with each other any time we choose. You are going to share this with Legolas, so why would your desire be wrong? As I said to you once before, it is a natural progression to go from love to desire, to want to be one with that person you are ready to share your life with."

"I am ready," Enguina replied, sitting up as Arwen was. "I want to run my fingers through his hair and let him press his lips to my neck." She swallowed, closing her eyes at the image. "I want him to touch me, to feel his fingers on my skin, to touch my hands against his perfect chest and run them over his shoulders…my skin to his skin…to let him lay me down…" She felt warm all over just imagining it, and she opened her eyes to look at Arwen and smiled awkwardly. "If you were afraid of love-making, than I suppose I should not feel so strange about having fear. Aragorn is much scarier than Legolas."

Arwen burst out laughing. "Oh yes, much!" She raised her eyebrows at the blush on Enguina's cheeks from thinking of Legolas in the way she had been.

Enguina sighed. "I suppose we should be returning home."

"Are you sure you are ready to head back to Minas Tirith?" Arwen asked, eyes sparkling.

"What do you mean? Of course I am ready."

"I just thought that perhaps with all of this talk of Legolas and being skin to skin with him, you might need to take another long, cool dip in the Anduin."

Enguina glared at her. "Honestly? You are going to make fun of me now?"

Grinning, Arwen shrugged. "What are friends for, dearest?"