When Tarisilya's husband backed away at last, he was smiling. Unlikely as it had been, in this night of grief of all times, they had made a big step back towards each other ... And that had been the first, urgently necessary change before Tarisilya had even been able to think about if she could help this messy situation that Legolas had got himself into tonight, and how.

"There's nothing that could ever change how I feel about you, Ilya. Please don't be afraid. While I can't tell you yet where I'll be drawn to, eventually, I'll never be further apart from you than a few day's journeys. We will have this bed that we will wake up in together. On the most beautiful talan, you've ever lived on, on the oldest, biggest tree of our new home, wherever that might be."

"You want to live on a talan?" Tarisilya skeptically pictured a wood-elf trying to handle the slight fear of heights that these people were rumored to have. "Now I know that you really need to relax. Come on, let me continue."

There was a certain subject, Legolas had just been evading very cleverly once more. It was her, actually, who had helped make it possible for him to do that back then, by building this protective wall in his mind in Helm's Deep; but if he kept that up, the anger on Men in him would unconsciously grow as well that he should only be feeling for a few single ones. If he needed her to point that out for him, if that was what she could for this quarrel between the realm leaders to hopefully be smoothed down soon, then she would sacrifice even the harmony of this night to that, with a heavy heart.

For the moment though, what she was focusing on was his tense and partly injured back muscles, both with massage techniques learned over the course of centuries and her healing abilities, until she felt Legolas starting to breathe deeply and evenly.

After a brief caress over his shoulders, she scooted away from him a bit. "Those breeches need to go, too. Did you think I would stop in the middle?" She grinned weakly when he turned his head to her questioningly. "From someone who knows each of your moves, you can't hide that you're walking like an old dwarf."

Given how slowly he was obeying, she had to wonder if he'd maybe had fallen asleep which didn't exactly ease her conscience. He could have needed that rest right now. However, he needed to have healthy legs too if he wanted to get back on a horse tomorrow, and given how much effort it took him, getting out of the last piece of clothing as well, she was well-advised to insist.

His attempt to radiate coolness failed miserably. Legolas wasn't a simple patient who had to deal with being unclothed in his healer's presence. Now, there was really no way for him to hide his bad mental condition anymore. Besides, it hurt that so much of the passion usually prevailing between elvish lovers during the days of the children had vanished, that the two of them didn't even really dare to look at each other, in a situation that under different circumstances would have led to much more.

After a moment of consideration, Tarisilya sat down parallel to her husband, drew up the skirt of her dress, and crossed her legs so Legolas could rest one of his on them. The support of the elevated position and the sensation of her skin on his instead of the coarse fabric helped. Starting at the knee, she stroked downwards again and again, with firm pressure, not even giving in when Legolas startled back because she was grazing an especially painful cramp.

"Almost done." She left a fleeting kiss on the pale skin under her hands and reached for the oil again. This time, she chose a spot much higher to begin. Now there was no way for him to hide his tremble anymore when she covered the length from his behind to his knee with the same movements as before. Suddenly, he was working so much against her that she had to let go. "Have we drifted apart so much that something as simple as a massage causes you distress, elwen?"

"This is exactly what I tried to avoid." Legolas pulled the light cover over his body in irritation. Tarisilya noticed quickly that he was still being in pain. "The time is not right, that's all."

"When will it be then?" Tarisilya put the oil vial aside. "How long will it take you to stop thinking about some men violating you when I touch you, now that you start to remember what happened? Until you stop fighting even the chance that it could get better because this is one of the many things you can't talk about with me?"

"Ilya, come on, that's not true …" But the cover was instinctively being wrapped even closer around his body so that it was covering his back now, too. "You've carried my pain for me in Helm's Deep and cut it in half just by that alone. What else is there to say about it? Have I not let you know after our wedding that I'm done with this matter?"

"That was a long time ago, Legolas." That he refused to confide in her hurt even more than his coldness that was actually directed at someone else entirely. The intimate nearness between them in that night he was talking about and the one in another, shortly afterward, when she had been pregnant already, had long stopped existing.

"What is that you want to hear? That I've been dreaming about it for a while now? That I'll never be able to enter the woods of Rohan or Dunland again without thinking about it? I never said that a year was enough to just forget it, Ilya. But I won't let two men who have long have become food for scavengers destroy my marriage. What they did back then has nothing to do with you."

"Then look at me, elwen." It wasn't a plea or a friendly request; it was an order, something she had never dared to give him before. She would have wasted a chance that wouldn't come again so quickly if she gave in now. If he wanted to keep on lying to her so badly, he would not do it in their bed.

He must have heard her undress as well, still, he seemed overwhelmed when he obeyed in resignation, and Tarisilya's bare body was suddenly nestled against his. At that moment, the cover between them that under different conditions would have been extremely annoying was the last bit of protection.

First tears fell onto Tarisilya's neck when the last stones of the wall crumbled that had helped Legolas get through the war – and, among other things, to never lose sight of his endeavor of friendship between Elves and Men that had already suffered so much today anyway.

When her husband finally made it to put an arm around her, it felt like the unwilling touch of a stranger. "I wish for nothing more than the bliss of finally laying with you again, Ilya. But the poisoned air of North Ithilien brought back every fear."

"Tell me what it is exactly that you are afraid of." She caressed his face, ignoring the tears though it hurt every time, seeing a composed being like Legolas cry because it was robbing her of a safety that had existed ever since she knew him. He needed to understand that there was nothing wrong with showing weakness.

"Losing control." Even while he was saying it, revealing what was weighing down on him so much, he was facing that very fear, thereby showing Tarisilya once more that he did trust her, better than any empty promise could have.

"In Helm's Deep, I have been confronted with the reality of war for the first time in my life, long before I ran into these Dunlendings. Before that, I was able to protect most of the Fellowship with my bow, but that evening I realized how little of a difference a single weapon makes when thousands of lives are at stake. It was no longer in my hands. And it's always been like that since then. I was either not there when I was needed or I was facing superior forces alone. Suddenly nothing I once was proud of matters anymore. I mean ... I can't even take care of myself as the day after that battle at the Hornburg showed quite clearly back then. How could I ever believe that I can protect a whole settlement?"

Bitter self-hate, an emotion that Tarisilya had never seen in Legolas before regarding this matter, mixed with his resignation. He stared at the plain white ceiling as if he could find answers there that didn't exist.

"Tell me." Tarisilya scooted closer to him, bracing her elbow on the pillow next to his head. "Just this once, so you can leave it behind and look to our future again. Let me come with you and be there for you, the way I should already have been back then."

"Ilya … Again: You already know everything." Though he never gave up examining that paint on the wall, she knew about the plea in his eyes. The part of him that had wanted to enter the Hall of Mandos after that experience back then was still trying to fight the unavoidable.

"Wrong." She left a tender kiss on his neck. "My powers and what weak mental connection we had back then have shown me the few odd images in your mind, that's all. This makes me know more than your other healers but what really happened, is being hidden deep inside you. From now on, with that shield now gone that we built together that night, it will always be there on bad days. On days like these, I don't want to have to suffer instead of being able to help you, elwen."

With a long kiss on his tight lips, she let him know that she was being there for him, still and forever. "Why did you leave the Hornburg after the battle anyway?"

"I needed to be alone. There's a huge difference between counting how many orcs you take down and walking by children's corpses." When Tarisilya wormed her arm under his neck, Legolas nuzzled his cheek into her elbow, gratefully taking the offer of looking at her only when he felt ready for it. "There was no day before that and none after when I ever came so close to giving up again." For long minutes, there was no sound but Legolas' breathing going more and more irregular; Tarisilya almost had to suspect, he'd changed his mind.

Then he suddenly looked up at her and told her. About the poisoned arrow that, due to the shock after the battle, had come out of nowhere and had almost rendered his shoulder useless forever. And about the lashing.

"I could have handled that. I have experienced a lot of pain in my life, you know. I fought orcs in a half-dead condition who had more strength than that boy with his belt. It was the helplessness that was the worst. And the humiliation. Being restrained, knowing that in open combat, these primitive bastards wouldn't have survived longer than a few seconds, having the face of that drooling thug right before me …"

While he'd sounded somewhat composed so far, now Legolas was suddenly straightening up as if Tarisilya had been the one staring at him, enjoying the sadism of watching other beings suffer. With his knees drawn to his chest, he turned away from her and dodged her next touch on his back. "Don't … please." It took her a moment to understand, he didn't just mean that she should keep her distance right now. Part of him was trapped in the past, whispering in fear from what had come after the beating – a triumph that he had surely not granted the Dunlendings.

Or maybe he was also asking her not to keep pushing for the last time, but that was the one thing she couldn't do. "Who was it? The one with the belt?"

"Too young. Allegedly. The scum that is this one Dunlending tribe educates their offspring in killing early enough but they're too immature for them to gaze into the abysses of their eldest. Even if they've killed women and children in Helm's Deep only hours earlier. The truth is, that adolescent boy wouldn't have batted a lid. I could hear it in his voice. Makes you wonder, inevitably, if there is still any hope for the rest of this folk."

Tarisilya cursed silently. This was even worse than thought.

No, it had not only been that crisis in North Ithilien now that had made Legolas lose his faith in Men. That deep hate that he suddenly could no longer manage to have only for the few who actually deserved it, had already been existing in him for far longer. If Tarisilya had found the strength to have this conversation right after the war, it would maybe never have got this bad between Aragorn and her husband. Then Legolas might have understood earlier that he was working himself up into a dangerous kind of aversion, one that his father had set him an example of with his baseless hatred for the Noldor under Lady Galadriel's leadership for half an eternity.

She could only hope that it wasn't too late. And also clear something up that had been haunting her since she had felt that Legolas was dying on her way to Mithlond back then. The pain that Legolas' body had signaled her then in the course of the healing had never left a doubt about how these two Dunlendings had completed their torture before the Huorns had stepped in. But no one knew how far the men had really been able to go before their death. Not even Aragorn whom Tarisilya had asked on their journey to the west. If she wanted to help Legolas, she had to accept another repulsive image forming in her mind, on top of the terrible ones existing already.

"Did he …?"

"I'm not any stronger than the elves who found their salvation back only in the Halls of Mandos after a thing like that, Ilya," Legolas stopped her sharply. The muscles working ceaselessly beneath his much too pale skin had once more become steel ropes; he was shuddering again and again. With every word, he was losing himself more to disgust, to everything that had made him seek the darkness in Rohan.

"Without you, I wouldn't be here anymore, but not even the strength of our love would have sufficed if that bastard had managed to get more his dirty hand on me before he found his end. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. I've just seen far too much death and violence in my life." He rested his forehead on his knees. "Sometimes I almost wish those men would have finished the job. My father is a true fighter. I'm not, seeing as I cannot even leave the impressions of a single war and a few hours of torture behind. If elves are being granted the mercy of dying of a broken heart, I wonder why the Valar didn't allow me that."

Tarisilya was right next to him immediately and pulled him close again. "Because you have a purpose here. Lady Galadriel always knew. You are the rock between Elves and Men. When the two of us will long have gone west to our families, the far descendants of Elessar will still remember your name. Although your rage does not allow you to see that right now: You were always their friend, even more than any of us. You never met them with prejudice and mistrust. Don't make that a habit now, just because a few of them haven't learned anything from the past. They need you."

She leaned closer to his ear as if not even the nightingales outside the window were allowed to hear her next words. "I need you. Come back to me, please …"

"I'm right here, Ilya." She was regarded with an expression that she had last seen at their wedding, filled with all the emotions binding them to each other. "I have been gifted with a wife that rode through the Gap of Rohan in the middle of the war for me, only to free me from this nightmare. No one but the Valar themselves could tear me away from you even for a while. And even then I would have a few things or two to say about heartlessness to Mandos."

Tarisilya laughed away the last sob in her throat and nuzzled close to her husband, relieved when he wasn't tensing up again. "If you're being like your father then when he's being angered just a little bit, Mandos will send you back voluntarily at once."

Legolas' arm on her back was still not moving an inch. This hadn't been more than a start, and painful enough on top of it. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't watch this."

"I'm not angry with you. Just give me some time to forget these villains' stench, Ilya. Without you, that would have taken another few years, maybe decades. Let me put my life on Middle-earth in order and make the decision between the loyalty for my people and the one for one of my closest friends who stopped speaking my language. After that, my mind will be completely free for you. And if the Valar are being gracious, for our little family." It was something that he had promised more than once already, and somehow, she had become bitterer every time.

But something was different tonight. Legolas was never questioning it even for one second that she was staying here, under the supervision of someone that he was calling an enemy right now. He let her do what she wanted and whatever he was planning to do, he did in consideration of her. For now, she didn't need to worry about him engaging in something rash, though personally, she wouldn't have guaranteed the imprisoned Stewardaides that they were being safe. This matter was far from being solved yet. But all these things would only start mattering again once the sun would come up.

Tarisilya finished the treatment of this old wound with a kiss on Legolas' forehead. "I'm well used to waiting for you, elwen. Lay down again." She caressed his knee for a moment, only through the cover for now. "If you won't even make it to Cair Andros tomorrow, the others will wonder why I care for every patient dutifully except for my husband."

The hesitation before the blanket was dropped to the floor only lasted a second. No, things weren't like they'd used to be yet. What time it would take until that changed, was now everything standing between them.

Tarisilya could live with that. After all, being a healer, it wasn't like you had no sense of tact.

She was acting with a lot less determination than before, waiting until Legolas had his leg back on hers again and was ready to accept the first movements of her hands working his muscles for him. She restricted herself only to what was necessary, ignoring the deep yearning for spoiling him with caresses, for mapping his skin with her lips – so far, they had hardly had the patience for something like that in their nights together.

She was focused too much to pay attention to her surroundings for now, including Legolas' quiet breathing that went heavier by the minute, and that the oil's discreet smell was mixed with the hint of something else. Or how his body was startling again and again, no longer in resistance though. It was only when she was done treating his other leg, too, and he was turning around so that she could attend to his chest, that she noticed the scattered drops of sweat there and how eagerly he was leaning into the next part of her efforts.

And at his loins, slight but clear arousal – something that she definitely hadn't expected right now.

The look on his face begged her not to say anything, to not destroy this surprising intimacy with questions.

Accepting that wish, Tarisilya dripped another amount of oil onto Legolas' skin, a long line from his collarbone almost to his navel. Then she paused, with both her hands on his upper body, and bent over him until her lips were but an inch apart from his. "With me, you'll always be in control, elwen. Make me stop if your heart asks you to."

His slight nod and the cautious lust still written on his face, said enough.

Tarisilya knew this time her turn to lead. In the past, they had always guided and encouraged each other in turn as this whole thing had been just as new to him as to her. This time, she would have to be the one to cross certain lines, to take the right steps at the right time. And to not take her attention from Legolas' reactions for even a second. If she wanted to avoid hurting him, it was her who had to realize when it was time for something to stop. Or she would do more harm than be good for him.

That was why in spite of his approval, she didn't rush anything but picked right off where she had stopped, even more careful than before. Though many of the scars on Legolas' upper body were paling more and more, she had to avoid these spots anyway. Doing that and still being able to treat his muscles properly was turning out to be hard work; but this time, Legolas did commit to it, sinking down into the soft pillows further and further when even the last of pain vanished and he was able to move again without being reminded of the warg attack.

Since he had remained silent the whole time and was staring at the ceiling again nonstop, Tarisilya actually thought that he'd fallen asleep now after all. When she was finally done, she put the vial away as quietly as possible. Something more happening would have been nice; it would have assured her that Legolas was indeed on his way to recovery. But there was no disappointment. Finally being able to sleep next to him again was more than had been possible in the last few months.

She moved to get up, to get rid of the rest of the oil in the washbowl but now it was her suddenly who was startling because of a shy hand being placed on her thigh.

"You can go on if you like." It sounded just like the gesture had felt like but Legolas' gaze was fixed on her bare back, on her legs, her anklet, a detail of her appearance that she very well knew him to deeply love seeing it on her. While he couldn't reach out to her himself yet, him looking at her like that revealed both desire and that he didn't know how far he could trust that sensation himself. "I don't want to hurt you in case the fear comes back. But what you just did … You make the images in my head pale. Help me forget, Ilya. Remind me that we belong together."

The washbowl was suddenly the most unimportant thing in the world. Tarisilya leaned down over her husband, with one hand braced on the bed next to his head again, the other resting above his heart, and looked straight at him until he was the one to raise his head, to put his lips on hers, letting the tip of his tongue play against hers – the final signal she had been waiting for that he wanted this. That he wouldn't only just endure it like the difficult conversation and the massage.

It was nice to feel his heart beating faster immediately when she just let her fingertips draw circles on his skin, to hear a deep sigh being breathed into their kiss, filled with tiredness, sure, but free from every burden.

She didn't want to be crying yet again, but when Legolas pulled the thick wooden needles from her hair with his very own composure that had grown so rare, just a first gesture that was saying so endlessly much though … That was when salt was once more trickling over his skin, mixing with the last glistening of the oil there. She pulled away from his lips to lean into his hand brushing her long strands of hair into place, with her eyes firmly closed, to eat up every moment of what she had missed so painfully. To lock it away deep inside of her for the time when she would be parted from her husband once more.

A fleece of brunette fell over the two of them that Legolas hid his face in for a moment, deeply breathing in her scent to let the protection of both catch him, a barrier that would let no one from the outside into their world only just healed. He had always been so crazy about her hair, about its unusual length; there had been so much pride on his face when she had worn it down …

"I'm sorry if I disappointed you. I had a feeling I had to part from something that is no longer me. It will grow again."

"I always tried to give you all the freedom you need, Ilya, didn't I?" He let his head fall back, with a smile that warmed her soul. "I'm not telling you how to live your life. Your appearance is no exception. I didn't marry you because your hair is a competition for Lady Galadriel's. Besides, it's still just as beautiful. You don't know how good it is to feel it on my skin."

Instead of answering, she dragged the leather tie from Legolas' ponytail and fanned out his thick hair on the white pillow as if she could do a painting of her husband's haggard but still graceful, even features like that.

"Yes, I do. Don't. Not more." Her fingertips on his lips prevented an answer that there was no need for anymore. Instinctively, she switched into a rare old Quenya dialect that she also used during healings. She didn't even know if Legolas could understand it all, but hopefully, he would be able to read her face.

"Let me show you how long I've been hungering for you." She breathed a kiss onto his slightly opened lips and let hers wander, down to his jaw and his throat, following the throb of his pulse. "Stop thinking. Tonight, no one is expecting anything from you anymore. Rest your soul and let our love heal your wounds."

While he did stay silent, he never took his hand off her neck, clearly showing her that he was with her every second, with every fiber of his body, trusting her with all of him as much as his mind would let him.

Where Tarisilya had used pressure earlier, her fingertips were now making their way across his skin just lightly, without her leaving his face out of sight, ready to stop anytime if she saw a shadow on it. It didn't happen. Her caresses earned her more sighs, especially when her touch moved to his belly and his waist, finally to the curve of his behind, her lower arm grazing the hardness at his hips at that. Remembering that Legolas and she were sharing a few sensitive places, she grabbed his behind tighter, which was met with a deep gasp and her lover bending his leg so she could knead the sensitive skin.

The well-defined muscles on his chest started to dance so seductively that Tarisilya just had to follow the movement with her lips, keep this tremble alive with small kisses, the breeze of her breath and the tip of her tongue until Legolas warmth and his beloved scent intoxicated her so much that she felt dizzy and had to put her head on his shoulder.

With her eyes closed, she enjoyed Legolas' caressing her face, how he was tracing every inch as if he tried to memorize her like that. It would be long after his departure when would she think about that moment again, and the gesture would lose its romantic charm rapidly because the memory of the battle at Cair Andros would return, and of that cruel fate of his hanging in the air was, that was being far more likely than suspected so far.

But at this moment, it was nothing but emotions overwhelming Tarisilya, the relief that this, at least, hadn't got lost for them. Her hand reached a spot on Legolas' chest even more tender than the rest of his skin, more than the scars, too, hardened skin that tempted her to test its sensitivity once more. Tarisilya started to squeeze it slowly, turning her head until her lips found the other, just as pebbled nipple and Legolas' sigh turned into a moan sounding like music. She sucked the small bud lightly, waiting until Legolas pushed up against her, enough to assure her that the bad memories were still where they belonged.

Only then, the movements of both her fingers and her lips instinctively gained strength. She wanted to hear more of these sounds of his lust. When his hand on her neck clenched noticeably, she realized that she had almost forgotten her responsibility. Looking up immediately, she found his expression to be only clouded though, challenging her to go even further. Following her instinct, she scooted downwards, between Legolas' legs without taking her hands off him, sliding them down his sides until she reached his hips. With her cheek nuzzled against his muscular thigh, her right hand closed around his cock.

The combination of these sensations brought back the tremble working through Legolas' body. The heated glistening on his skin spread further with every moment of her leisurely stroking his erection. When he startled badly this time, the reason was not discomfort, but Tarisilya bending forward to nudge the salty traces of his lust on his belly away by playful blowing on it; and he did it again when her grip on his cock grew harder, her bosom pressing down against it. "Ilya …"

"Easy." She let her whisper graze along his loins until her lips were touching the moist tip of his most sensitive spot. Shivering at least as much as him, she let the sensations fill her that some first probing of her tongue brought. Regardless of how bad the last few days had been, right now, a small part of her was glad for her tiredness as it eliminated certain restraints. She just did what her curiosity and her wish to show Legolas some of the most wonderful sides of their love told her to do; and his loud moans proved her right.

Still, it was once more Legolas' hand on her neck stopping her before she could try something more, and this time, his headshake was unmistakable. "Don't … not like this. Not today. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep myself awake. If you want to give this to me someday, I want to feel every second of it. Right now, there's nothing I want more than finally being inside you again anyway."

Tarisilya just nodded and let him pull her upwards so she came to lie on top of Legolas and the reddened center of her desire rubbed against his. It was her turn to moan, with her own most sensitive spot pressed against this hardness, just like on that one clearing back then, on their journey west. The heat in her lower body instantly grew; emptiness was throbbing inside of her, demanding fulfillment.

Legolas' lovingly fondling her behind just made that worse, not better, and another moan escaped her lips. How much she had missed caresses like this …

Pushing her hips up a bit, Legolas prompted her to scoot upwards another few inches, and it wasn't long before his clever fingers were between her legs, making sure with just a few movements, she would be ready for him.

"Look at me, Ilya, please." Though there was a lot that had been healed tonight, at that last moment of falling into each other, he needed her eyes on him, to see the love on her face as he entered her slowly, her image on his mind to start leaving behind what had been torturing him so much since Helm's Deep.

Knowing that Tarisilya did her best although the passion made it anything but easy, the sensation that she had been missing so much, to be that close to him, that filled her with so much joy every time ... And then that exciting position on top of that, arousing both of them so much … When next he pulled her close then to kiss her and her most sensitive spot ground against him with every move, it became a real challenge to not close her eyes under all these impressions.

She managed it, for him, as she had gotten through this whole evening for him, and gathered her last strength to bring them both closer to the purpose of their game by the steady roll of her hips. Every now and then, she collapsed on his chest because of her lust overwhelming her. Soon enough, the tension raised to an immeasurable high point, faster every time that the muscles of Legolas' lower body stimulated that certain spot at the upper end of her swollen folds.

Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, Legolas pressed her close to him by her waist, just like at their last coupling, and muffled Tarisilya's increasingly louder moans with wild kisses while starting to move against her as hard and fast as possible.

It took Tarisilya a moment to associate the choked scream she was hearing with herself. For a moment, the tension controlled every cell of her body; she arched up against Legolas' grip.

It was only when she was being sprawled out on his chest afterward, gasping for air, after her husband had given her the second orgasm of her life that she didn't have clumsy movements of her own hands in her youth to thank for, that the heavy, pleasant smell coming from both of them revealed, he had come as well. And that Tarisilya was hit with the nagging realization that in their sudden haste, they had both neglected once more to further explore the possibilities of their mental bond that was floating between them more intensely especially on nights like this.

And they'd also not spent even a single conscious thought on either providing or preventing that the very one thing might come from this night again that would only have caused even more chaos in this whole situation right now. Not that she had any reason to suspect, the Valar would actually be reckless enough already to place this challenge before them again, especially not after today's events … Still. They really had to learn how to treat this subject with more awareness.

All those sudden wistful considerations made it almost impossible to straighten up. Only that she might possibly hurt Legolas if she didn't, gave her the energy to.

Legolas didn't even seem to notice. This last effort had been too much for his body, tortured by sleep deprivation, to even feel Tarisilya laying down beside him, with her head pillowed on his chest and the last tears of this night spreading on his sweat-covered skin.