"How did you get all these lamps?" Legolas marveled, as he lowered Sulrochil from his shoulder. Effortlessly, he turned her in the air, and as her feet reached the floor, they were both facing the room.

The room was bathed in golden light - dozens of oil lamps and lanterns scattered all over the place. Big ones and small; decorative ones and a few sturdy as well; an odd collection of all sorts of lamps, hanging from the ceiling, covering every drawer, making the room ablaze with light.

"I did not ask for these," Sulrochil said, leaning her head back onto him. "When I was writing the letter I heard Pleinda talking with her helpers. They had orders to gather every spare lamp in this whole building and bring it here - and I saw an oil barrel with elvish writing."

Legolas kissed her temple. Her hair glowed in all shades of auburn in the flickering light of the lanterns. Love twirled all around them. "So this is a gift from father."

"He wanted the light to shine in our souls," Sulrochil said, and headed for a beautiful arrangement of ornamental lanterns on a drawer by the window, "so tomorrow in the darkness we can remember tonight. This light is a beacon for us when the agony tries to smother us tomorrow. We can always turn our souls to the light of tonight and let it guide us back wherever we are."

She walked around the room, touching a few lamps when she got past them, and abruptly turned to stare at Legolas. "But you disagree."

"Not necessarily disagree," Legolas mused, and turned to look at Sulrochil, letting his eyes sweep over all of her. Not speaking anymore, he sent a questioning thought for her. Perhaps that had been father's intention, but there are also other benefits.

"To see each other?" She bowed to take a closer look at one lantern and out of the corner of her eye, glanced at him. "If he did, I am not complaining - I like it when you watch me, even though I am not able to do it like you."

"How do I do it, then?"

"You make me feel warm," Sulrochil paused, not daring to say anything more aloud. "You make me feel warm inside," she thought to let her emotions flow into him, "yet chills creep down my spine. And this all fuddles me."

"Come here," he thought and pulled her into an embrace.

Sulrochil leaned her head onto him like she had done many times before. This time was different, though, as she knew beforehand precisely which point of his chest her head would touch, and suddenly she was overwhelmed by his familiarity. "I cannot understand how others can watch people they do not love for fun." She was not quite sure if she had spoken aloud, or if it had been only a thought.

"They do not see like us, and they do not feel like us."

"But still… we love each other, yet I find it difficult to watch you."

"You will get used to it."

"Touching is easier than watching."

"Aye, but you are used to it. From the day you are born your parents touch and embrace you; then your relatives and friends as well. You do not watch anyone except the one you love. Our minds need time to get accustomed to it."

"Are you accustomed to it?"

He did not reply, but could not prevent himself from thinking how her beauty stuns him every time he lays his eyes on her.

"I know," Sulrochil said, before realizing he had not said anything aloud. The discussion was a lovely tangle of thoughts and feelings, added with a few spoken words, mostly at the wrong times. She wondered if someday they could truly comprehend each other without words.

"Did you get everything you need from Pleinda?" Legolas suddenly asked, tearing her out of the previous matters.

"I got all necessary items from her," Sulrochil said relieved at the change of subject, and the fact that it implied he was almost as overwhelmed by all this as she was. "There are two things I need to do tonight. First, I must sew a pocket for my ring, and then, to check my weapons."

"We could have more time to rest tonight if you would let me check all your weapons and sharpen your blades."

"Would you do that for me?"

"I can do it if you truly let me do it and not plan to do it again afterwards yourself."

"Legolasador nin, I would be honoured if you could do that for me, while I sew the pocket." She removed her wrist bracers and jerkin and threw them onto a chair. Smoothing her shirt, she decided to take off also her boots. With bare feet, she tiptoed by the table to get the sewing supplies borrowed from Pleinda. (sador=loyal, trusted, nin=my)

Taking what she needed, Sulrochil sat on the chair to measure the best location for the pocket for her ring. Like always, she had to sit on her knees to properly reach the table. She turned the jerkin around in her hands. "I will sew the pocket on my jerkin. If it is safe enough to remove it, it is safe enough to wear the ring. I want to sew it near my heart, but the problem is what kind of pocket would be best for such a small item so that it would not fall out but would be within reach whenever I want it. Could you show me what kind of a pocket you had for it?"

Legolas was standing near the door leaning against the wall behind him with crossed arms, looking at her antics.

"Am I interrupting something?" she smiled. Of course, she felt he was watching her.

"Your toes are smaller than crowberries," he replied with an equal smile.

"I might be small, but I am not a hobbit, you know."

"I could never mistake you for a hobbit. I have eyes on my head, you know," he said, letting his gaze wander all over her body.

"I happen to know that, and I have also noticed you can use those eyes quite efficiently. But we both know you were not watching my toes."

"I did look at your toes."

"Aye, glanced at them. And you could have said what really was on your mind."

"Would you have preferred me saying 'they are beautifully round in shape, perfect in my eyes and I find it pleasing to be watching you'?"

"You are not anymore talking about my toes," Sulrochil said and furrowed her brow.

"No, I am not."

Sulrochil's eyes grew wider in astonishment when she, to her surprise, was not abashed; but enjoying his words. The feeling of his eyes sweeping over her made her reply flash in her mind rising a quick flow of emotions. "Then I prefer you saying that and I would like to hear you repeat it - or not necessarily these exact words but something similar - use your imagination! - or in fact, no words can describe it properly, so please do not waste your precious mind capacity to trying to find words. Words are vague. I can get a much more accurate description of your thoughts only by feeling your emotions myself, and I really cannot fathom how other races do without this! Oh, I am going to miss you tomorrow. And, do you know what, I do like to watch you, and I am getting better all the time. You are quite easy on the eye, but watching you is difficult when you are watching me all the time - I mean all the time. It feels like you are caressing my body with your eyes. It makes me distracted and dizzy. So, how can I watch anything when you throw me off balance again and again?"

"Am I supposed to understand something about the sky full of bubbles you just felt?" Legolas said.

"What do you mean? I thought it was obvious."

"Your core feeling is enjoyment, that much I can gather, but all the rest was a rapidly changing row of every feeling you have ever had."

"Do you need an explanation?"

"No. I may have missed some details, but not the fact you like this."

"Is it a surprise?" Sulrochil asked.

"In a way it is," Legolas said, moving his eyes over her, trying to trace every little detail of her shape. "But I am in no mood for thinking about that right now,"

"I can tell. Keep your moods in order yet for a while," Sulrochil said. "All I would like to do is forget everything else and only feel your eyes on my body, but I am afraid I must sew the pocket tonight, or I cannot take the ring with me at all. So, could you please remove your jerkin so I could see the pocket you had for it?"

"If you want to see the pocket, you can come here and take my jerkin off," Legolas said, loosening his arms from his chest and letting them rest by his sides.

"You would want me to…?"

"You have seen me many times without it."

"But…?"

"You had no problem removing your own clothing. You have never taken off your jerkin in my presence."

"Taking off my own clothing is a bit different than undressing you," Sulrochil said, tilting her head slightly to the right.

"I know," Legolas said and slowly unfastened his belt, and let it drop onto the floor, all the while keenly staring at her. Then, he pressed all his fingertips against the wall behind him. "Could you do it, please?"

The glow of his eyes sneaked into her heart, making it impossible not to comply. With uncertainty, Sulrochil dropped everything in her hands onto the table and slowly paced until she was standing in front of Legolas. He was still leaning against the wall, but when she came closer, he straightened up abruptly, forcing her to look up at a sharp angle, and feeling his presence surround her.

For a while, they stood still, looking at each other's eyes, searching for the balance of their minds.

Sulrochil felt his closeness mostly by her inner sense for him - and it made her feel as bewildered as when they had first uttered the very first stuttering declarations of their love. The mere thought of undressing him - even if it was only the outer layers - made Sulrochil's innermost core turn upside down.

Feeling Legolas' love surrounding her snugly like a warm quilt, she lifted his right arm and began unhooking his wrist bracer, not looking anywhere but her own fingers. She dropped the bracer, and when it hit the floor, Legolas slid the right hand reassuringly onto her shoulder. More confidently, she removed the bracer on the left wrist, and when she felt both his hands on her shoulders, she dared to lift her gaze at him.

The dedication in his eyes was something she had never seen before, giving her the soothing calmness she usually got only from spruces. With a small smile, she began unhooking the jerkin, and the little movements of unfastening his clothing with her hands on his chest gave her the feeling of being in the right place, doing exactly what she should be doing right now.

When Sulrochil had slid the jerkin over his shoulders and dropped it onto the floor, Legolas pulled her into an embrace. All that was between them anymore were their flimsy shirts - and it was like nothing at all.

Now when the thick layers of clothing had abruptly disappeared, the contours of her body pressed flush with his, pulling a sigh of desire out of his core. All of him craved to soak up her softness. His body yearned to trace her outlines, to draw her onto his skin, to forge a path into her.

Slowly, he began learning her shape.

In time, he would acquire the mastery - for now, only a few sparks flew in the air, but their bodies were the parched earth, quick to catch fire. Soon, Legolas released his grip, though. "If I remember correctly, you were sewing something."

"And if I remember correctly, you talked about sharpening something, but I am not sure if you could be trusted with any sharp blades right now."

Legolas dug a whetstone out of his pocket. "I try to keep my eyes on my task."

"Your hands too," Sulrochil said, lifting his jerkin from the floor, and checked out the hidden pocket. "Of course, it needed to be a curved shape."

"Of course," Legolas replied. "And you knew it, even without seeing my pocket."

"Now I must finish this," Sulrochil smiled, not bothering to reply. "So please, do not interrupt me anymore."

"Me? Interrupting you?" Legolas said. "It was you who began the whole thing."

"Was it?" she said innocently, reaching to get the scissors while Legolas carried all of Sulrochil's weapons onto the table and sat at the other side.

Sulrochil stretched the cloth onto the table and cut the needed patch for the pocket so she could begin to sew. When she took the needle, she stopped and looked at Legolas, horrified. He had her bow in his hands and was scanning the arc.

"You cannot begin your check with the bow," Sulrochil said sharply, pointing him with the needle.

"Why not?" Legolas said, not lifting his eyes off the bow.

"I always begin with my quiver," she said.

"I always begin with the bow," he said.

"But you are checking my weapons now."

"What difference does that make?"

"If you do it in the wrong order, it could influence the result."

"Now, I am intrigued." Legolas set his elbows to the table, fixing his gaze to her. "How?"

Sulrochil paused for a moment. "I was wrong. I am sorry I accused you wrongly."

"That was not the first time…"

"The reason for my check order is not what I said…"

"...and not the last time, either."

"I was not thinking…"

"You could sometimes spare a few moments for…"

"The reason…"

"...thinking."

"...why I begin with the quiver is that if I must check them in a hurry, I can put on my quiver after I have checked it and the arrows and do the checking of the bow after that, so I am ready to go if an enemy approaches."

"If you are in a hurry, you do not check anything. You prepare for a battle." He turned his eyes slowly to see all of the room. "Do you see any villains lurking behind the corners now?"

"No, but-"

"Exactly," Legolas said. "We do the check only if there is time for that and I begin with the bow because that is the most important of all things."

"Of course it is the most important, but is it wrong for me to begin with the quiver?"

"You can begin with any piece you wish. I do not care if you begin with your boots; just let me do this my way. Alright?"

"I did not know boots were weapons." Sulrochil began sewing her pocket with impossibly small stitches, trying not to watch him when he slid his hand along the bow slowly to feel if there were any imperfections.

Not being able to resist the urge, Sulrochil tentatively lifted her eyes so she could see his hand gliding along the curve of the arc of the bow. Suddenly, she jolted as she, in a flash, felt on her skin how it would feel his hand touching her in the same manner.

Legolas looked her deeply in the eyes, continuing the movement of his palm on the bow thinking "someday - not after long - I will do it for you."

Sulrochil's breathing hitched and her eyes rapidly switched between looking at his eyes and his hand. "Are you not supposed to look at the bow when you are checking it?" Sulrochil asked, swallowing after a little while.

"Are you not supposed to look at the needle when you are sewing something?" Legolas checked the string and the points at which it was attached to the arc. It was not a surprise that the bow was flawless, for she took good care of it, but it was so small in his hands he almost feared he would break it.

He began checking the quiver. With his forefinger, he traced all the seams, thinking how it had been tailored to Sulrochil sixty years ago. Its size could not be changed since it had no buckle - she had to pull it over her head. Suddenly, the image of Sulrochil lifting the quiver over her head and letting it flow on her shoulders filled his mind. Thousands of times, he had seen the little movement of her shoulders to adjust it better - and now all these memories made a whirlwind in his heart. This time he saw not only her shoulders but her whole body stirring.

"You are thinking of me," Sulrochil said fondly when she felt he was once again swept off his feet mentally.

"I am always thinking of you," Legolas said, taking her knife and twirling it for a little while in his hand.

"Put that thing down before you hurt yourself," she stated unimpressed, hardly lifting her eyes from her sewing.

"Hurt myself?" He leaned back in his chair and continued the twirling when he noticed Sulrochil had indeed lifted her eyes a little from her sewing to look at the movements of his hand. "How could I hurt myself with something smaller than a table knife?"

"If you did not notice, it is quite sharp," she said, not being able to take her eyes off him. "And when you begin sharpening it, please make sure you do not make it duller."

"Thank you for the advice," he tossed the knife so it spun in the air, grabbed it back and took his whetstone. "If you believe I am not capable of doing this, you should give me a tutorial."

"Oh, I know you would like that." Sulrochil swallowed. The required tutorial would include a lot of touching when showing the right way to do it.

Legolas put the whetstone close to the blade at an altogether wrong angle and gazed at her intensely. "I could ruin your knife if you do not come here and teach me the right way."

"Nice try," Sulrochil smiled, pulling her sewing onto her lap and resuming her work on it. "I will not come to your side of the table until all needles and blades are someplace safe."

Deeply in their thoughts, they both fell into silence. The only sound was the whetstone hitting the blade. For the tiniest moment, they had a cozy feeling of being at home doing everyday chores. Legolas finished the sharpening and felt thoroughly helpless under her looming assignment.

The feeling of home crumbled into dust.

The only thing he had left was to carry her weapons back to hang them on the wall. Seeing them hang next to his own gear gave him strange pleasure - until it again hit him why he, in fact, had done the check for her. The sadness almost began creeping back to him, but he forced himself to turn around and look at Sulrochil who had finished her task and was tucking the ring to the new pocket. It fitted perfectly, and she grinned like a fool.

"We need to rest. I am afraid the dawn will come too soon," Sulrochil put the ring back to her finger and smiled for Legolas - she had felt his distress almost taking over, but she knew - they both knew - they should try to smother every unhappy thought for tonight. "Take off your boots, and then we should turn off all these lamps, except for one. I want to leave the last one burning, even though it will consume the precious oil."

With two thumps his boots were off, and with a couple of brisk strides, he was close to Sulrochil who had managed to turn off only the first lamp closest to her. Legolas pulled her into a hug, so her feet did not reach the floor anymore and kissed her softly.

"How about letting me go now so we can turn off the lamps?" Sulrochil said through the kiss, enjoying the heavenly feeling of their bodies pressing against each other.

"How about not letting you go at all tonight?" Legolas whispered, tightening his grip. He lifted her higher - making the walls of the room wobble.

"How are we supposed to turn off the lamps, if neither of us has free hands?"

"Take hold of me and not sag on me limply like a sack of flour."

"But if I take hold of you, it would mean you could let me go, and you said you did not wish for that."

"You would not go away."

"I might."

"No, you would not do anything like that, because you seem to like this."

"Of course I like clinging onto you like a pendant."

"Stop arguing and get a proper grip, or I will drop you."

"You would not do anything like that," Sulrochil said, draping her legs around his waist so tightly she did not need her arms anymore, "because you seem to enjoy carrying me."

Legolas walked towards the next lamp. "You are so light it feels like I am carrying air."

"Are you sure that feeling has anything to do with my weight?" Sulrochil gave him a little kiss while he turned off the lamp.

"Do you have any preference about which lamp we should leave burning?" he asked back, looking at her with an expression of 'do not even try to trick me into answering your question, because whatever I say is wrong'.

Sulrochil was beaming with amusement when they moved around the room, turning off lamps, trying to keep up with their conversation while kissing all the time. "I do not care about any lamps, because you are softer than a tree trunk."

"Was that a compliment?"

"That was a statement," she replied through the kiss. "I have been climbing trees millions of times holding my legs around the trunk like this, and I only made an observation."

"Usually your observations carry some secret reasons incomprehensible to me," he said, looking intensely at her eyes while kissing her sweetly and trying to reach another lamp.

Sulrochil tilted her head slightly, forcing the kiss to end. "Trees do not move like this, though."

"How do you know that?"

"They never move when I am climbing them," Sulrochil whispered, leaning closer to kiss his neck just below the ear.

"They could move when you are not climbing." He was relishing the warmth of her breath on his neck, and the enjoyment made him spin quickly around, making their hair flow in the air and intertwine into tangles of light and dark strands.

"I have never seen them move." She switched to whispering in his other ear, continuing kissing his neck again, and making their hair tangle even more.

"They could move when you are not looking." He spun around in another direction, overjoyed to carry her around, feeling her lithe body tightly around him.

"I could hear it."

"They could move when you are not hearing them," he whispered close to her ear, pushing the hair out of the way to reach her neck for a kiss.

The room grew dimmer as they managed to turn off one lamp after another.

"You are right. They could be moving right now when I am not in the forest," she whispered back stretching her neck to enjoy his kisses better.

"Why do the trees always seem to be exactly at the same spot, then?" Legolas gave small kisses continuously on Sulrochil's neck reveling in the feeling of giving pleasure to her.

"Of course they want to get back to their homes after a little stroll around the forest," Sulrochil replied moving her head so she could look directly at his eyes and pressed her nose against his.

"Of course," Legolas said, capturing her lips again while moving towards one of the last lamps hanging from the ceiling.

"Do not turn off that lamp!" Sulrochil exclaimed suddenly.

Legolas froze and speechlessly gaped at her in absolute annoyance. A grave urge to drop her onto the floor flashed in his mind, but in the very next moment, he only shook his head incredulously.

"I specifically asked you about this. You said no, but now you happen to have an opinion about which lamp should be left burning," he said, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"I just figured out it should be that one," Sulrochil said sharply.

"Did you figure out I was enjoying our kissing?" he replied, trying to untangle the masses of dark hair from his face.

"Of course I did. How silly do you think I am?" she helped him sort out the strands.

"I am not going to answer that."

"Well, I can answer for you. You consider me a complete fool of the worst kind, but still, it does not change the fact it is this lamp that should be left burning."

"Naturally," he said, shaking his head again.

Any understanding of how she could switch like lightning from thoroughly sensuous kissing into arguing about lamps was beyond Legolas' comprehension. All he could do was to leave the said lamp burning and move towards the next - letting himself float uncontrollably in the air of their love.

The destination of a leaf in the wind is always unknown.

Finally, there was only one lamp burning, and Legolas carried Sulrochil towards the bed. Gently he lay her on it and slipped next to her.

The bed seemed larger than a meadow. Never had they laid down in bed - and it made them acutely aware of what they were doing. For a while, they lay side by side, looking at the beautiful patterns on the ceiling formed by the last flickering lamp, letting their minds adjust to the feeling of sharing a bed.

Today they would not think about what would happen later, but only take the very first step in the path towards it. Laying on an enormous bed, feeling only the love they shared.

"Sultithen, I have been thinking a lot about what we should do," Legolas said, turning his head to see Sulrochil. "About the shared sleep."

Sulrochil looked back at him. "What about it?"

"Would it be a good thing since we must be separated tomorrow?"

"Why would it not be a good thing?"

"Would we miss each other more, if we get a glimpse of the beauty of it and then are forced to be separated?"

"We will miss each other regardless of what we do."

"Which option would be better?" Legolas asked.

"Is it not obvious?" Sulrochil said, tracing the embroideries on his shirt sleeve. "Everything in us is craving closeness. We both want shared sleep and also need it. When I must be away from you, I will need the memory of how it feels and you, in addition to that, will need the knowledge of it, because if you did not have the experience of it, you would use countless hours contemplating what it would have been like."

"You know me well, but I meant…" He turned his head to look at the ceiling again, thinking how the shared sleep would tie their souls even more tightly into a union and lead their minds and bodies into the path of touching each other more… and more.

"I know what you meant, and you fear we would miss that," Sulrochil said.

"Aye. Miss that in addition to everything else."

"Of course we will miss it, but it does not change the fact that I still want it tonight. I want…" she paused for a moment inhaling deeply. "...you. Baillegolasdaer nin, I want you." (bain=fair, beautiful, favorable, daer=betrothed, nin=my)

Legolas' eyes blinked wide open, and before he had time to form any words in his mind, not to mention voicing them aloud, Sulrochil had already turned on her side, moved his arm so she could use it as a pillow and snuggle close to him.

"That is why tonight we should do exactly what we would do even if I were not going away tomorrow. I want to have shared dreams with you and then wake up tomorrow morning to see where this all leads us." She smiled curiously. "And I want to see how deep the bewilderment will be in your eyes in the morning. Mellegolasdaer, you are always so determined, so strong, so focused, and to see the incoherence in your eyes when we kiss or touch, amazes me."

"What did you expect?" Legolas huffed. "Me staying indifferent when we kiss?"

"Please, do not get me wrong," she replied, feeling his annoyance. "I did not say this because it is somehow a bad or shameful thing. It is just that I did not take into account that I would have such a powerful effect on you. To see your reaction to my touch, to my closeness, astonishes me every time, but most of all it brings me joy."

She slid her fingers along his scalp, grabbed his hair into her fist and pulled him closer to kiss him. The warmth made them float between thick rowans. Their branches teemed with creamy white flowers, swaying slowly in the wind.

The flowers changed into berries of the lightest orange colour all the while turning into the more vibrant red shade. A threshold they were offering to the elves, a threshold between this world and the world of their own which they soon would find in their shared dream.

Never wanting to let her go, Legolas kissed Sulrochil gently, pressing her softness firmly against him with one arm. Ever so slowly, he caressed her neck with the back of his other hand, making Sulrochil melt under the feeling of being surrounded by him. His touch provoked flames everywhere on her body; she exhaled with a deep sound of pleasure out of her throat, which reverberated into their very beings - causing them to stop kissing.

For a long time, they merely lay still, breathing shallowly and trying to get attuned to the feelings they raised in each other.

"I want the shared sleep too," he whispered close to her lips, "but I wanted to give you a chance to back off if you wished for that. I would never have believed you were so assured of this. I thought you would have been more uncertain."

"Perhaps I would have been more uncertain if I had had a feeling of you demanding me to do something."

"How could I ever demand anything from you in this matter? All I can do is ask for something, but I will not even ask if I feel it would be too much for you. All I want is to give enjoyment to you."

"I enjoy your every touch. You must know that?"

Legolas brushed her neck by the back of his hand, basking in the revelation of getting Sulrochil dizzy with pleasure every time he did that. "All I want is for you to feel good."

"Tomorrow all good things shall be robbed from us," she unexpectedly began sobbing, "and I don't want to go tomorrow…"

"Shh, Sultithen nin, please do not say it."

"Can I say it one time?" Sulrochil wailed. "Can I say tonight I don't want to leave you? Can I say that going away tomorrow is like tearing my heart out of my chest?"

Torrential downpour fell on them as she screamed between vehement cries. "And it is not tearing my own heart, but being forced to tear your heart out! With my own hands, I will yank it out, and it will kill you! And it will be done by me!"

Pushing him further, Sulrochil tried to escape, but Legolas grabbed her tightly against his chest. The thunder rampaged inside their souls; her tears wetted their cheeks.

"We are at death's door!" she yelled, and unsuccessfully tried to toss herself back and forth. "Snakes sprouting everywhere! I hate this! You are warm, but tomorrow I must lie down beside a cold rock! This is our night, and we should have dozens more to come, but no! Tomorrow I will go away and rip out your heart! Tomorrow our world will be smothered with darkness, stained with ugliness. All happiness will be annulled, and I am so tired of being forced to always be strong!"

"Can I for once be vulnerable?" she whispered, as the rain hammered the forest of their souls. "Am I allowed to ask for something like that? Can I for a tiny moment be frail and cry here in your arms, so tomorrow when I am gone I could be finished with my tears."

"What can I do?" Legolas whispered, being crushed under her inner thunder.

"Please, give me strength."

"I would give you all my power if I knew how. How could I give you strength?"

"Just by being you," Sulrochil pressed her nose and lips against his cheek and breathed deeply trying to settle down the storm raging inside her. "Just by being here for me. Only for me."

"I am here," he said, caressing her back with long strokes and soon he felt her outpour subsiding. "Only for you."

For a long time, they lay together; until only distant rumbles were left of the storm.

"You are in this world because of me. Likewise, I am here because of you," Sulrochil said when her emotions had settled down a little. "You give me strength by simply existing, and I wish I wasn't draining all your strength."

"I feel we both get stronger if the other gets stronger. If you are sad, it makes me sad and now when I feel you are a little better, it makes my heart rejoice."

"Do you ever feel weak?" Sulrochil suddenly asked, trying to wipe her tears.

"Weakness of the body - never," Legolas replied, kissing her tears away. "Weakness of my soul - sometimes."

"Thank you for admitting it to me," Sulrochil said, kissing his cheek. "When you feel weak, I will be here for you."

"I wish there will never be a need for it."

"Thalion nin, no one is questioning your strength, but our souls are meant to support each other equally, and I will be here for you, when you need it," Sulrochil said, sliding her hand on his chest, "but can we sleep now?" (thalion=steadfast, strong, a hero)

There was again a smile in her voice - and in her heart.

"You seem to be eager," Legolas whispered close to her ear. "You must be extremely tired."

"You know very well that I am not tired at all. I just want to fall asleep with you and find our secret place in our sleep."

"Sultithen, I want it too." He paused to give her a small kiss. "But there are some things I would like to say to you before we sleep."

"Please talk, I will listen," she said, feeling his urge to share what was on his mind.

"I would like to give you a home," Legolas said, taking her closer into his embrace and caressing her back. "You have not had a home for decades, not since your parents died. I would like to give you safety, but we are in the middle of a war, and it is not possible. Why is it war again? Why is it always war? I would like to give you home and peace. Is that too much to ask?"

"War and peace are not in our hands."

"I feel so powerless. All I can give you now is to let you go on a mission nobody else is willing to do. To a mission nobody else is able to do. Why? I hate this. I am tired of this, and all I would like to get is a peaceful life with you. We have had enough war."

"I know," she replied, "It is wrong that there is a war. I hate that it is always war, but this is the time we have been given. This is the time we must live in."

"How are you going to manage your mission? I need your honest answer," Legolas said bluntly.

"You are worried."

"You have never had that kind of an outburst."

"We have never been this close."

"If you hesitate on your assignment even one bit-"

"I do not hesitate. I have never had that kind of a flare-up because I have never had anyone with whom I would feel safe enough to cry like that. I will manage my assignment better now - after the breakdown. There are always feelings of uncertainty before every mission, but this was the first time I could admit it."

"Admit? You made us both wade through the mire of your misery, almost drowning in the torrent of your tears."

"I feel stronger now when I have admitted my uncertainty about how I can manage our separation to you."

"But are you uncertain if you can manage your task?"

"No, I am not," Sulrochil said, looking directly at his eyes. "I can do it, and I will do it."

"Good."

"Can we sleep now?" Sulrochil smiled, fondling his braid idly.

"One more thing," Legolas said. "Or are you going to fall asleep regardless of what I say?"

"I think I can manage a few moments, but can you not smell meadowsweets?"

"Definitely not."

"Then it must be that I am closer to falling asleep and can already smell them in the forest of our shared dream."

"How can that be possible?"

"I feel it."

"Of course you do," Legolas said, not believing one word. "I probably should not say this tonight, but I must. I would like to give you a family. I would like to give you a child. I would like for us to have a child."

"I wish for it too," Sulrochil sighed. "I wish it could be possible, but it is not. I can imagine a little boy running wild in the forest with his bow and shouting to me with an adorable grin: "Mother, I can do my homework later, now I am off to the archery track with my friends." I guess that boy would look much like you."

"I can imagine a little girl with two brown braids stomping her foot on the ground and her eyes flashing when she yells at me: "But father I want to use only two fingers when I draw my bow! Using three fingers, as you say, just feels wrong!" That girl would sound much like you. But this is something I cannot give you."

"This is not your fault, so you must not take the blame on yourself for this!"

"Two millennia ago I heard a little child saying that to her father and those words have been echoing in my mind all these years," Legolas replied with a sorrowful voice.

"I feel the echo like a rain of your tears which never fell," Sulrochil said, sliding her knuckles down his cheek.

"Would you like for us to foster a child?" Legolas asked abruptly, trying to shake off the image of the unfallen tears dropping through the grey sky all over a vast green forest.

"No," was her immediate reply. "She would be mortal."

"I understand. Her death would be too much for you."

Sulrochil considered his words for a while, but in the end, she said, "Her death would be devastating, but I could bear it. I think it would be better to love a mortal child than not to love a child at all. We would always have our memories of her."

"Why would you not want it then?"

"Because we could not properly raise a mortal child. All we know are the traditions and manners of elves; we could not teach her the right way to live amongst the men. It would feel wrong to try to raise a mortal child, and it would not be right for her to be raised by elves."

"You have given a lot of thought to this."

"No. All this came in a flash to me when you asked the question."

"But you paused to think about it for a while."

"My initial reaction came in a flash, and it was 'no'. What I had to think was why I said no."

"Sometimes it is hard to understand how your mind works."

"Please try to bear with it."

"Sultithen, I love everything in you. What I cannot bear is you being forced to go…" Legolas said, and his voice was strained, "When this all is over, and there is peace, I do not want you to need to endure anything you do not want. I want to give you happiness."

"As long as there is a forest and you are there with me, I am happy. When I close my eyes and feel you, I am in the safest of woods. Eryndaer, you are my family. You are my forest, my home." (eryn=forest, daer=betrothed)

Love was the air they breathed, the blaze in each other's eyes, the buds on the trees waiting for their time to burst out as leaves.

Softly, Legolas raised his hand on Sulrochil's cheek. His heart burned with love, as he leaned over her face, letting all his devotion flow into the kiss - making them both fly in the dark sky between twinkling stars.

Along the Milky Way, the children of the light slid and fell past the North Star. The excitement of a free fall filled them with delight. Legolas felt a pull in his soul, a gentle invitation from Sulrochil to join her in their shared dream. He closed his eyes and let her pull him through the foliage until he was sitting on a tree with her.

Not seeing her, nor hearing her, he knew she was there with him sitting on a branch of a linden. They did not touch, nor speak; only felt the presence of the other.

Together, they climbed down.

The warmth of the sun surrounded them with serendipity while they slowly walked along a beautiful path through the pristine nature. The dizzying smell of meadowsweets lured them to walk closer to a lake bank full of delicate white flowers.

Through the field of the meadowsweets, they strolled. The tall stems brushed their sides - which made them notice they did not have quivers and bows with them. This was a land in which no weapons were needed.

It was a land of love and of exploration.

For now, they held only the feeling of the other while walking on their own territory of their dreams. It would not take long until they could see each other. It would take a little longer until they could hear each other. Not until they were ready, could they touch each other.

Moment by moment, their figures close to each other felt more familiar. There was no rush to be anywhere anymore. Love could not have been forced, it had taken all the time it needed to form, but it was here now.

Love was this forest, these trees around them - and it was all they needed.

The surface of the lake was overflowing with water lilies, making it ripple slowly. They sat on the shore and heard how wind invited the leaves of the lindens to play, feeling the anticipation of the time when they can leave two piles of clothes onto the shore and walk into the lake, dive and let go. Let go of everything except each other.

In the depths of the blue lake, they would swim to and fro until exhaustion. When they finally would look back to the shore, they would see not two piles of clothes, but one. Their shirts, their cloaks, their everything would be intertwined into an embrace.

They would awaken for each other.

The sky began to lighten as Legolas and Sulrochil woke up in the new day, in the new world of theirs.

A bemused smile and thirst flooded in each other's eyes, as they forced themselves to ignore Sulrochil's looming task for a moment. Nothing could prepare them for what was to come.

The only thing they could do now was to live.

Legolas moved his hand on Sulrochil's back like he had done many times, and then tentatively slid it down her left side, making her shiver. Love was kindling her core as she lifted her arm slightly as an invitation for him to touch more. Slowly, he slid his hand over her side again.

The burning sun in her eyes drew a rich scent from the meadowsweets. "I am not sure how I can bear leaving you."

He kissed her softly, and it was meant to be a gentle kiss of consolation. The vivid memory of their shared dream and the weight of Legolas' hand on her body, though, made them both melt into the kiss and each other's arms, making it impossible to distinguish where one ended, and the other began.

Legolas begged for this moment to last forever; her blood was pulsing under his touch; his hands searched for the solidness of her being. He needed to find her tune. The anticipation of everything that was to come later tingled their hearts; the anxious expectancy of unraveling the unexplored secrets crept on their skin. "Sultithen, I want you, all of you," Legolas whispered, with uneven breathing. "I want it all. Everything."

All of Sulrochil was filled with a blissful affirmation, as her body flowed into life.

"Before all this, when I was trying to picture what love was," his voice was thick with passion. "I never could imagine this astonishing strike through my body when I hold you in my arms." Legolas traced her ear and kissed her again, sliding his hand for the last time over her body and trying to memorize everything of this moment, every feature of her; to take in all he could see of her. "I have begun kindling you, but it is the blazing flames that I want."

A flutter of dragonfly's wings in her eyes, she whispered, "I am not afraid of fire."

The scent of meadowsweets lingered in the air, as the morning began gilding the sky.