"You look surprised, Arwen."
Equipped with a sense of hearing that allowed picking up a whisper at the other side of the valley if you tried, Elves early in their lives learned the art of selective perception. To lock out what you didn't need to see or hear. With enough experience, in everyday life it was only unexpected or special noises that caught your attention. In this case, a voice that Arwen had not heard in a very long time.
"I just wasn't aware that we were expecting more visitors of Lórien. Come with me, I want you to meet someone."
It was as if Estel and her were standing before two completely different elves greeting them with a not too overdone bow respectively a curtsy. "Tegiend, Tarisilya … It's so good to see you again. I missed you a great deal."
"As we have missed you. It has been too long. It is our pleasure. I hoped that we would see you in Lórien before you returned here, but ada and us could only bring ourselves to end our travels a few years back." Not a trace of nervousness and no stutter in Tarisilya's voice. Her eyes didn't leave Arwen's for even a moment, only quickly glancing at Estel when Arwen mentioned his name before being on her again. Her shoulders were motionless, without any tightness in them, her back straight, her legs not constantly shifting like they had used to …
Moreover, Tarisilya's next words, containing a greeting from Galadriel, revealed how much her vocabulary had grown in the last centuries, how many teachings she must have undergone. There were none of these too long, embarrassing pauses, no looking for the right word anymore.
Unlike many other elves, Arwen's friend also didn't show any sort of irritation about the unusual nature of Arwen's companion. Probably Galadriel had already informed her in detail beforehand. It was a relief that at least one of her closest acquaintances didn't seem to hold Arwen's decision against her.
Tegiend on the other hand stayed mostly silent after acknowledging his old friends Elladan and Elrohir in the distance with an honest, short smile. The armor of a Lórien marchwarden he had not even shed for one evening of leisure. His continuous checking glances across the room made it clear that he was mostly here as Tarisilya's escort. And probably not because he expected her to be in danger in Imladris. Some things, with time, just became a deeply ingrained habit as Arwen knew from experience. Like getting an overview of the situation before he led Tarisilya into the hall.
By now, Elrond had joined the group to put one hand on one the twins' shoulders respectively. "You were gone for far too long. I'm happy that you finally found your way back."
"Now that we have returned to Lórien for good, we will always try to follow an invitation of Imladris, milord. Ada sends his apologies. He very much appreciates that you were happy to welcome him tonight. His duties in Lórien unfortunately made it impossible for him to accompany us."
If the countless glances of the elves all around them were bothering Tarisilya, she didn't let it show. She barely even seemed to register them. Arwen could easily see many guests – her beloved brothers among them – instinctively look up at the deep, husky sound of Tarisilya's voice though. Thanks to a very handsome appearance on top, the young elf would probably be swamped with requests for a dance tonight.
And yet she gave off an air of sadness. Only when they were done with all greeting rituals, when everyone was sitting down and Tarisilya's eyes kept on searching the room for someone who wasn't present, Arwen realized why.
"Excuse me, Estel."
Gently taking Tarisilya's shoulder, she guided her to the terrace of the circular hall. "I think there's someone else you should say hello to."
Her voice disturbing Legolas' dull monitoring of the landscape, made him throw an irritated look over his shoulder which quickly changed to something completely different though.
Arwen doubted that the two of them noticed when she returned to the room.
It was a strangely sobering experience, something suddenly happening that you had been waiting for so much. The details of a dream disappearing that you'd imagined over and over, leaving nothing but naked reality. There were no ideals anymore, only the here and now. And the fear that with the dream coming true, it would lose its meaning.
For minutes, none of them spoke or even moved a muscle. They only looked into each other's eyes, trying to guess the other's thoughts, to find out how the last centuries had affected what they had once shared. Every word could be the wrong choice. Every moment together, as few as they'd had back then, was extremely present in their minds, no longer suppressed or filed away with a patient smile. The memory was back to life, just like at the beginning of this millennium when they had been overrun by something flooring both of them completely.
Suddenly, tears were streaming down Tarisilya's cheeks.
Just a second later, Legolas pulled the elf in his arms, whom he had fallen in love with before either of them had known what love was. It wasn't a timid, platonic hug, it was one so firm, it nearly hurt them both. One he wished that would never end.
"You look breathtaking, Ilya." A stunned whisper against her ear was all he dared to let out.
"I'm afraid I can't say the same." She examined him sadly, his face that showed so many traces of the past battles as he knew too well. "Once again, one could mistake you for an orc, my prince."
"Can't you be serious for once?" But the chuckle at least helped retreating and taking her hands instead of crushing her half to death.
The disbelief remained. No, this wasn't how he remembered her.
Tarisilya had turned into an enchantingly beautiful elf. Youthful full cheeks had been replaced by finer features in a very symmetrical face. A tight fitted red dress with a bold, low neckline accented slightly bigger hips. Legolas instinctively wondered what her legs under the elegantly overlapping layers of her skirt looked like – much more grown-up thoughts than a little infatuation back then. Many details immediately caught his eye but none as much as her thick hair, a broad wave that in spite of her bangs and a tail at the back of her head fell all the way down to Tarisilya's legs, nearly reaching the floor.
Before she had even said much, Legolas sensed that Tarisilya had not become a grown up only in body, but also in mind. Maybe not fully mature - at that age, he certainly hadn't been - but more than capable by any standards, to take responsibility for her own life and choices. By Vandrin's standards too, or she wouldn't have come. She wouldn't have embraced him like this, or looked at him like that, caressing his hands with still shy, tender movements.
"I wasn't joking." She raised her hand to his cheek, graceful and deliberate in a way, only thorough development of inner peace could teach you. "You look like death."
"Don't worry." Legolas carefully took her face between his hands. It was still surreal, touching this new Tarisilya, a whole different elf, as if she would vanish right before his eyes if he came too close. "My heart has been darkened by what threatens to suffocate this world for a while. But now I don't have to fret anymore. Now there's a reason to survive all these dangers. I was worried, your father would take you into the west before I got a chance to hold you in my arms again."
"I could never leave as long as I had hope that you were waiting for me." She nestled close to his shoulder when he hugged her again and cried a few last tears about their long wait that had finally ended. "If I ever had doubts about how deeply we are connected, being far from you for so long has killed those. Even Tegiend doesn't object anymore by now, I think."
His lips a hard, thin line, Legolas looked at the terrace door. "You sure?"
Tarisilya followed his look and immediately stepped away from him, out of habit alone, when she saw the blame in Tegiend's eyes before her brother stomped back into the celebration hall. Probably to join the twins, who by the looks of them had been very busy reducing the available number of wine barrels already.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into him again ..."
"And we shouldn't care about that on such a happy evening," Legolas interrupted her, no longer ready, after an eternity of uncertainty and doubtful waiting, to act considerately towards someone who had to learn to let go. "We never had more than a few minutes alone. There's so much I want to know about you."
"Then you'll have to find me a big mug of water, or my mouth will soon be too dry to talk," she replied, laughing. "My first thousand years are nearly over, my prince. This could take a while."
"Your wish is my command, milady." He teased her with a deep bow and hurried into the building, with steps much lighter than when he had arrived in Imladris.
"So this is why you could never tell me who she was?" On his way back, Legolas was headed off by Arwen. At least she was alone, sparing him the embarrassment of saying hello to her partner for the moment. "Are you seriously still fearing your father's displeasure so much that you need to hide her?"
"What a coincidence," he answered, feigning surprise. "I've been meaning to ask you about some things you couldn't tell me myself. I'm afraid my story is not half as exciting. It includes no attempt at reviving an elf who died a hero's death after she bonded with her mortal. Not even a regular relationship, just a friendship. You would be bored, considering how much you suddenly seem to love drama."
For seconds she just stared at him, open-mouthed. "A small-minded elf would now slap you in the face, you know."
"No one ever slapped me." Legolas wasn't ready to have his marvelously improved mood spoiled and just passed Arwen by.
Unfortunately, she was faster and more flexible than him with a full mug and glasses in his hands and managed to get right in front of him again. "Someone should have. Maybe you wouldn't be so inconsiderate then."
She turned her head to Tarisilya at the edge of the terrace, who was visibly enjoying the evening breeze blowing over her slender figure, just taking occasional confused looks back over her shoulder to see what was taking Legolas so long. "Does she even know you're such a coward? That you want to keep on denying it?"
Legolas started to become seriously angry. Arwen reminded him quicker than he liked that there was indeed much for Tarisilya and him to talk about, before they could decide the next step. That was nobody's business but their own though.
"Did your feelings for a mortal dull your elven senses before you even gave up eternity for him? Or are you just not listening? There is nothing to deny. We just met for the first time in centuries. Which is why I would be grateful if you let me return to to my conversation with my acquaintance instead of seeing ghosts."
If they weren't surrounded by much too curious elves, a premier might have happened now, Legolas would probably indeed have endured the first slap of his life – and admittedly, rightly so. It showed in Arwen's darkened eyes, in the short twitch of her hand.
"You know nothing about relationships, Legolas Thranduilion. You're like an elfling throwing his first toy bricks across the room. I leave you to deal with your conflict alone as you want me to. But know that you are the last person in this world for me to ever talk about more than the weather again."
She didn't stay to hear another defense or an apology but fled back to Estel sitting at Elrond's table with him and his sons, smoking a foul-smelling pipe.
When the man noticed Arwen's disturbance, he searched the room for the reason and regarded Legolas with a look that would make an orc throw down his weapon, whimpering.
Enough fun with Imladris residents for one night. Legolas sat down next to Tarisilya, with his legs crossed like her, and tried to leave the interlude behind as quickly as possible.
"Did you fight because of me?" Tarisilya asked, her head slightly tilted. Even time had not cured her curiosity.
"That was unavoidable and overdue, I'm afraid. It will pass, it always does."
Legolas held out a glass of water to her. "Now you've got no excuse, I hope you know that."
"You mean, I have to answer even the embarrassing questions? Well, if his highness commands me …" As if they had never been parted, they went right back to their usual banter. And yet everything was different.
He didn't need to ask again. Tarisilya quickly started gushing about everything she had wanted to tell him for so long. About how things had changed so much, about how tired in body and mind her father and brother had recently become. That the shadow that had befallen Middle-earth burdened them as well.
She admitted to feeling the darkness herself but insisted on hope for a better future. "Because I love this world, you know? I don't understand how so many elves give up on it. This is our home! Each time someone tells me terrible news about a city of Men or even of Elves, I can counter with a day when I saw another miracle in Middle-earth."
About their travels, she also told him much. That she had always felt accompanied and protected on the way, but never watched or controlled, and that she had found many chances to be alone on them.
She talked about the beauty of Lindon, the gateway to Valinor, a sight that had touched her deeply but not awoken her Sea-longing yet, since she'd never even been remotely ready to go this way. Not as long as Legolas was here in Middle-earth.
Tarisilya remembered the fascination of the woods, even dark ones like Fangorn, and the endlessness of the mountains where she had dwelled for years and years, losing the biggest part of her immaturity and egocentricity.
Then she spoke about the stark contrast, the pure excitement in the cities had posed to that. "Gondor and Rohan have no equal, Legolas, Rohan in particular. I very much hope, the Rohirrim will solve the conflicts that arose when they settled in that land. I had never seen so much happy short-lived life before. Men may have their faults, just like Elves have theirs, but only few of them are truly evil. I saw their children …" Melancholy crept into her eyes. Without really realizing, her fingertips grazed her abdomen as an instinctive yearning surfaced.
Only at the end, she told him about journeys that had made it clear that Tegiend's and Vandrin's worries were justified. The towers of Mordor in the distance. Deserted battlefields of Men, Dwarves and Elves. Fascinating places like Isengard, where everyone's hopes lay these days and where she still hadn't felt welcome.
The darkness of the mines of Moria. "We didn't go inside," she quickly added when she saw Legolas' dismay. "Ada didn't even want to get close, but Tegiend felt something … He couldn't explain it. Like a signal fading more and more as we came closer. At some point, there was only pain. And fear. Whatever is in there is more evil than anything we ever felt in our lives."
"Dwarves are often reckless." The aversion coloring Legolas' words, that was doubtlessly more his father's than his own, didn't allow much compassion for the miners. "They never know when it's enough. Maybe they wiped themselves out at their digging."
Tarisilya stared at him in confusion, not used to hear him utter such hard words, but dropped the subject then.
The hour was growing late. Many elves had gathered on the terrace to look into the west once the day would end, and Middle-earth's new fate would further unfold.
For now, she had said enough. It was Legolas' turn to speak, but before that, she wanted to be by his side when – at least for Men – the new millennium would start.
Tonight, no elf could escape the significance of this event. The age of Men had started long ago.
It was a somber mood. Many elves closed their eyes and silently counted down the last minutes. There was no sense of a new beginning. Tarisilya saw many faces of elves looking as careworn as Legolas'. The she-elves, being spared the horrors of war for the most part, only knew the suffering their husbands told them about. Maybe that was why they were the ones still having hope. But what if this hope was long in vain?
All of a sudden, the fear grew in Tarisilya too. A chill made her shiver, just like when she had looked at Mordor and wondered what was going on there. She yearned to hold Legolas' hand, as casual as she had earlier, but he seemed so withdrawn that she didn't dare to.
Instead, out of nowhere, Tegiend who was feeling her sadness, appeared and wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind. "I'm here for you, Ilya."
"You were always there for me," she answered quietly. But as much as she loved and trusted her brother, the coldness in her heart didn't completely go away. Tegiend wouldn't always be able to protect her. Especially not from the pain that love brought as well as joy.
The new year of Men started with tears running down her cheeks.
T.A. 3000
After too few hours of sleep, Tarisilya was relentlessly collected by Arwen to come tell stories. Only in the late evening, she returned to the guesthouse assigned to Tegiend and her, where they always stayed when they visited Imladris.
She hoped that her brother was already asleep after hanging about the guard facilities with the twins all day, but of course he was awake. Tarisilya felt his eyes on her when she tiptoed to the cabinet and traded her plain, loose-fitting dress for one similar to that from last night. "Don't start falling quiet again when you have something to tell me. We're too old for that."
"I just thought, after all this time …" He paused and shrugged helplessly. "You have to know what you're doing yourself by now. I just would have preferred him to take you to the celebration, instead of hiding your conversation on the terrace. Just because you're being free now, doesn't mean he is, Ilya."
"Don't be ridiculous." She sat down at the big mirror by the wall to do her hair that after such a long day didn't look neat enough. "You really think, elves don't have any bigger problems right now than their stupid outdated quarrels?"
"We are not talking about just any elf," Tegiend unnecessarily reminded her. "His Majesty of Mirkwood doesn't hesitate when he doesn't like something, you know that very well. And Lady Galadriel has better things to do than eating crow at his court again, just to break though his stubbornness."
Tarisilya raised one shoulder, though Tegiend's words rattled her deeply, trying to mar the happiness filling her soul since yesterday. "Legolas is not his father."
Tegiend's unnerved snort was answer enough.
No, Legolas was not Thranduil. Yet had not hesitated to agree when someone had asked him to stay away from Tarisilya before.
Granted, that had been an eternity ago. Back then, there had been no other way, and she would never blame him for that. But the small poisoned arrow that Tegiend hat fired at her heart, remained. She was glad to leave the room.
Most of the visitors had already left Imladris, therefore Tarisilya had the garden of the guesthouses all to herself. Not much had changed here. The silence, broken only by the bubbling fountain, was still very comforting. She stopped at the spot where she had seen Legolas' lyrical side back then, stroking the backrest of the stone bench for a moment, and sank onto the grass surrounding it. More relaxed by the second, she laid down to let the view of the sky above wipe away the last of her worries. Why let Tegiend's jealousy-fueled criticism bother her? She had had every patience in the world. She now deserved the elf whom she wanted to be with.
Having learned now how it felt when someone approached who was important to her, she reached out her hand, without even opening her eyes. "You took your time."
"Forgive me, Ilya. Lord Elrond wanted to talk about things that couldn't wait." Legolas sounded tired. Elrond seemed to have laid even more trouble on him to occupy his mind.
Accepting the wordless invitation, he sat down next to Tarisilya, with a short, feathery kiss to the back of her hand. "I see you're refueling your energy."
"You know me, my prince. Nothing cleans my mind like a full moon." Her skin burned where his lips had touched it. She wanted to feel that again – elsewhere, and before the night was over.
Sitting up slowly to hug her knees, she mirrored Legolas' position, so they could look right at each other. "At least you got rid of the mourning clothes." Silver white garments just looked best on him. They matched his bright hair and highlighted these eyes that the moonshine always drowned in such a fascinating light.
"And you look just as gorgeous as yesterday." His admiring look at her dress lingered on the admittedly sparse fabric of the top just a little too long. "Though it does show more than the dresses I'm used to seeing on elves. At some point, Lord Elrond will give you a cloak just to stop his sons from leering at you."
Tarisilya started to laugh in bewilderment. "Legolas Thranduilion, you're not jealous, are you?"
Before he could try to explain and destroy the proud feeling he'd just given her, she put a finger on his lips. "I find that extremely flattering."
She liked the sensation of delicate skin against her fingertips. She wanted more of that. Without hurry, she traced the shape of his fine features, let a few strands of his hair slip through her fingers. She had waited so long for this … Apparently, so had he, considering how her touches made him shudder. They started leaning closer to each other nearly at the same moment. His wildly beating heart was like a drum roll in her ears. Finally ...
Bright laughter outside the garden wall had them startle as if it was a scream. Arwen.
"Quiet, mîl nín." A second voice, bright but very full, without a noticeable accent, so it could almost be mistaken for an elf's.
"What is it?" Legolas suddenly looked like someone had just made him King of Mirkwood. Regardless of that fight yesterday, Arwen was a very good friend of his, too. She had expected him to be happy for her. "Don't you like him?"
"I'll know that once she can bring herself to introduce us." Every romantic mood for the moment was gone. Legolas only relaxed his posture some when the couple was out of earshot.
"Why shouldn't I like him? Because he's taking so much of Arwen's time that she hasn't spared a thought for her best friends in years? Because he's stealing her heart, ignoring the consequences, and will expose her to an eternity of grief once his lifetime is up? Or even to her death, in case she chooses mortality?"
"I never heard you talk like that," Tarisilya sighed, forgivingly though. After all, when Lady Galadriel had revealed what had happened to her friend, Tarisilya had first had to come to terms with this idea as well.
"It is because they maybe will not have much time, that they spend as much of it together as possible. That happens seldom enough as it is. The life that he lives as a Dúnadan makes it hard. It's not easy for him either, Legolas. Arwen says, he lost his family early on, and ever since then, he was always involved in some kind of war. He's the last of his line …"
"That's not the point. As I said: He hasn't even give me a chance to dislike him so far." It was reassuring that some habits, Legolas had not broken in the last centuries, including the absentminded nibbling on a leavestalk.
"There's no need to take it out on him when you are actually worried about her," Tarisilya cautioned him.
"I know, I know." Legolas fell backwards into the grass with a sigh and covered his eyes with one hand.
Tarisilya sensed what was going on in him anyway, and in this regard, she could sympathise with him. Why did it have to be Arwen of all people?
Was being by this Man's side really her destiny? What had never been more than a fairy tale, a legend about Arwen's unearthly beauty and the light of the Evenstar, was it real? Apparently, more than just her looks resembled one of the very few elves ever accounted for, to be joined in love with a mortal. The Morning Star of the First Age, Lúthien Tinúviel …
This miracle held no fascination, it wasn't a tale to tell your kids before bed. Lúthien had lived a life full of suffering and indeed given up eternal life, only to be with the Man she had loved.
The possibility of losing Arwen like that alone was an ice-cold noose around Tarisilya's heart, and for Legolas it surely wasn't any different. And knowing that no one could save Arwen from this, weighed her down just as much. She had made her decision. She needed support now, not rejection from the ones closest to her. Which was probably why Elrond swallowed this bitter truth with a tormented smile.
Unlike certain elves who had nothing better to do than abandon their friendship with Arwen. Legolas groaned another deep sigh. "You need to slap me, moon-queen. Arwen says I deserve that, and I guess she's right."
"To get me to slap you, you need to mess up a lot more than being worried about your best friend, my prince." If someone else bothered them now though, Tarisilya would happily turn them into a frog.
"So, do you plan to keep laying there all night or will you finally kiss me?"
Instead of that liberating gesture that she was waiting for so long, Tarisilya was suddenly regarded with a look so serious that fear started to choke her. "What? Don't start stuttering again if you don't want me to get as angry as last time, and say things again that I'll regret."
He didn't stutter. And yet, he would been better off, saying nothing at all instead of voicing exactly what Tegiend had warned Tarisilya about. "Things are not so easy. I want to tell you before I lose control, like I almost did last night already. Before I begin something that I can't stand by, because I'm forbidden to."
"Tell me … Did I miss something?" Tarisilya feigned looking around. "Is my father here somewhere? Or does Lord Elrond's wine not agree with you? Because I'm pretty sure you just told me that at 3,000 years of age, you still let people tell you whom to fall in love with."
"I don't need anyone's permission for that. It has happened long ago, and time changed nothing about it. Unfortunately, it didn't change my father's hate for the Noldor's past either, or his aversion against those under Lady Galadriel's guidance. He's inherited this weakness from his father and never learned better. That he feels, Galadriel left him alone in the last war, doesn't make it better."
Legolas raised his hand when Tarisilya started to flare. "Wait. I just want you to understand before we decide where our way can take us. So much of what I've ever learned, my father has taught me. Although we are at conflict once more, I hate hurting him. I know you get that because your love for Vandrin is just as strong. My father and me couldn't be less alike. Our views about differences between elves is just one point of many, and unfortunately the most persistent one. But something did change. Ada has seen too much in his life to ignore that you need to cooperate to fight for your home. Unfortunately, there isn't a more stubborn elf from here to Valinor. He probably wouldn't admit it if his life depended on it."
"And you're seconding his stubbornness." Tarisilya suddenly felt just like when her father had forbidden her friend to see her because he had not deemed her ready. Burnt out and left alone. What had she been fighting for all these centuries? Why had she waited?
Legolas' explanations did nothing to calm her down, on the contrary. He just didn't have the courage to cut his father down to size. What did he have to fear? To be refused a throne he had never wanted in the first place? In a few millennia at the latest, when Thranduil would be finally sick of terrorizing Mirkwood, he'd surely come crawling back to his son.
Her grief drained her off of too much strength to scream at Legolas, but the coldness in her voice expressed her opinion about his retreat perfectly. "I can't believe this."
Quiet despair colored his voice when they failed to find a basis for this conversation. "Don't you get it? I want to be with you, Ilya! I spent more than one sleepless night, trying to come up with a solution. Why do you think I never tried contacting you again? I wanted to find a way for us first, but so far, it is hidden from me. Maybe I should have tried talking to ada earlier. I hesitated and hesitated, and finally it was too late."
His gaze instinctively turned east. "I firmly believe that he can change, but not right now. Trying to tell him something would be like talking to a wall at this point. Nothing reaches his heart except for the worry that this world is ending, that he's been living in for ages. The same worry makes me despair. A long fight lies ahead of us, maybe even a new war. At war, there is no time for change."
"If that is your decision …" Her body numb, Tarisilya got to her feet. He probably expected tears, or her to scream at him and slap him now after all. None of it happened. Being in this garden suddenly was unbearable for her. She needed to get out of here. "So I go, Legolas, and take the path that every elf of Middle-earth someday is destined to follow."
He should be relieved actually, that she spared him the pain of knowing her to be stranded in Lórien, beyond his reach. Instead, Legolas suddenly jumped up as if the grass had caught fire. "You want to sail into the west?"
"I won't stay here another day, knowing that I'll spend my eternity without the one I love. What keeps me here if war will soon destroy everything anyway? Tell me!" With a bitter laugh, she stepped back before his pain could possibly affect her decision. Why should it when her pain left him unmoved?
"Not even the most enchanting forest or the most unique city could erase my memory of you. I won't spend my life waiting for you to finally accept your feelings and act on them."
"I will not be losing you, Ilya." Legolas suddenly radiated a strange serenity.
The fear from a moment ago was gone. As was the insecurity, the doubts. It looked like a burden had been lifted off Legolas' shoulders, finally revealing the elf whom Tarisilya had gotten to know, charismatic, charming, self-assured, courageous and unbelievably soulful. He didn't look away for one second when he took her tearstained face between his hands. "And I do love you too. If that is meant to decide my fate from now on, I do no longer fight it."
"Legolas …" Tarisilya managed only a whisper. Within minutes, two opposite extremes had overwhelmed her. She didn't have strength left to wonder what this new behavior of his could mean.
Then his mouth was suddenly on hers, and the question was answered.
The feelings his words had nearly smothered immediately raged through her again. Never had Tarisilya felt anything as intensive as the touch that ended Legolas' and her long wait, opening the door into their new life. All sound and smell, all thoughts behind her closed eyes yielded to the overwhelming warmth spreading in her soul, when she was kissed for the first time in her life. Days could have gone by, weeks, millennia that they spent in this tight embrace under the moonlight only, enjoying a first cautious, slightly inexpert exploring of each other's lips.
"Do you know how much you scared me?" Her knees going weak, Tarisilya wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Maybe this was only a dream and he could disappear anytime …
He didn't disappear. He buried his hands in her hair and his face against her shoulder, probably to hide his feelings of guilt even from the nightingale in the trees. "I didn't mean to. I really want this relationship, Ilya, no matter what it takes. I'm sorry."
"Never do that again." Tarisilya couldn't stand seeing him like this. It had taken him a lot to surrender to this moment. He was truly ready to give up everything in his life for her.
Now it was her turn to make this bond possible, without them leaving scorched earth everywhere.
"I only needed to go sure that your heart is beating for me. I'd never ask you to renounce your whole life for me, Legolas. Until the clouds veiling our stars finally dissolve, no one will know about our love. Well, no one who doesn't know already," Tarisilya added, looking up to the window high above their heads where she suspected Tegiend to be.
"I wish I didn't have to burden you with this secrecy," Legolas whispered, heavy-hearted. "Yet I am thankful, you bear it for me. Rest assured that I will never stop fighting for peace between our people, until with our parents' blessing, we can pledge ourselves to each other."
"I will wait for it every day, my prince." Tarisilya pulled Legolas' hand close to her face and pressed a long kiss to it before she reluctantly stepped back to accompany him to the stairs, where they would say good-bye for today. They both needed a few hours to process what had happened.
"We probably should be grateful. At least we don't have to meet in treetops in the rain anymore."
For some reason, Legolas thought that exceptionally amusing.
After a few seconds, she joined his laughter.