Elven words in this section:

Al- Not

i- The

Perian- Hobbit

Bereth- Queen

The road to Rivendell wound through a vast forest.  Many times had she walked these woods.  Always alone.  She knew each tree.  Each leaf.  They had become her friends.  But on this evening, she hadn't thought to see this place.  Something had brought her here.  Or someone.

"Frodo?  Is it you?" Arathoniel searched, "Or Gandalf?  Who has called me here?"

"Al-i perian.  Nor is it the Wizard," a voice came from above, from her beloved trees.

She smiled.  It was voice she would have recognized anywhere.  She turned slowly, in time to see him make his way out of the tree and land squarely in front of her.  Her heart leapt at the sight of him.  Not the Hobbit, or the Wizard.  It was the Elf.  Would that she was an Elf, for she was certain that he would be hers.  Her spirits, which had been dour since the beginning of her journey, were suddenly lifted.

"Ah, Master Elf.  Many places have you called me to, but never the Road to Rivendell.  Why now," she rested a hand on his cheek.

"Legolas," the Woodland Elf spoke and returned her greeting.

She enjoyed the feel of his hand on her cheek, even if it was merely a hand of greeting.  "I don't understand?  Legolas," she questioned.

"I should like to hear you speak my name from this moment on," he smiled warmly, "And the only name that I have to give is Legolas."

"Why have you called me to the Road to Imladris," she nodded towards him, smiling wryly, "Legolas."

"Why do you ask this question when the answer is already one that you know."

"Because I am still not yet convinced of the reality of you.  Some assurances are needed," she took his hand and they began to walk as they had many times before.  There was such safety in his touch, and she could not help but revel in it.

"What assurances can I possibly give to you, save that I am as real as you are?  That we share a common purpose.  That I am yours to take at will."

"You must not say things such as that and you know why.  Please, do not argue this point.  You know that I am right.  And the things that you have said cannot convince me that you are not a creation of my mind."

"If I was not real, could I call you to me?"

"Perhaps.  I do not know of any rules for these visions.  Perhaps I create them.  Perhaps I created you," she teased, pulling him towards a gleaming stream of crystal waters."

She wound his arms about her waist, desperately needing the comfort and safety she found in them.  Seeing their reflection in the clear waters, she sighed.  What stared back was not reality.  She was clothed in the garb of Elven royalty.  There was happiness, joy, safety.  She knew, however, that this was not real.  The heaviness of her heart began to cloud the reflection.  She feared that, if she did not think on other things, all she would see was her desire.  For she loved this Elf, this Legolas.  Real or imagined, it pained her greatly.  For, real or imagined, they could never be.  Only within her visions could she have what she truly desired.

"And why can you not have what it is that your heart desires so," Legolas questioned softly, his lips grazing the tender flesh of her ear.

The pain of all that had occurred, all that would occur, and all that Arathoniel would never have began to crush what little was left of her heart.  "Why do you ask such questions," her voice was threaded with the pain of the desires she would never reach and those things that she had lost so long ago.  Her mind turned, momentarily, to Frodo and all that was to befall the house of Baggins.  Her heart ached from the pain of it.

"You must not let the weight of all that is to come hold you in its thrall.  The pain will break your heart.  The breaking of your heart would cause the destruction of mine," his lips gently stroked the slope of her neck, "I choose you, my love.   The choice is mine, and I choose you."

"My Greenleaf," she smiled sadly, "My Legolas of the Mirkwood.  We haven't time to discuss such things.  There is much danger ahead for both of us, I fear."

"Fear it not, my Bereth.  There is much peril in our futures, yes, but it will end well for us.  Darkness shall hold us only for moments, and, in those moments, all in Company will have one another," Legolas turned Arathoniel to his face, the softness of an Elven smile etched into his features.

"I am not in company, Greenleaf," she could not remove the sadness from her countenance, in spite of the twinkle in the gentle blue of his eyes.  A question he did leave her with, however.  "Why do you call me Bereth?"

"You will come to understand in time.  For now, I must leave you.  Stay safe and well, my sweet love."

With a quick taste of her Greenleaf's lips, Arathoniel watched as he disappeared into the wood of Imladris.  The sadness that had overwhelmed her heart had abated a bit.  Though she knew life with one of the Noldorin was never to be, she would never ask him to give up the life of an Elf, it warmed her heart to know she had his love.  Turning from her stream, she left the sanctuary of Imladris to dreams.