Disclaimer: I own Kirilla. I do not own the Lord of the Rings or any of the characters in the Lord of the Rings. Thank you. Please don't sue me!

Author's Note: I had a debate with Rilla last night, and we decided to change the storyline a bit.. so the fanfic is longer than 4-5 chapters. Chapter three will see Rilla in big trouble.. and no one to rescue her.. Please review, and a profuse thank you to those who have! I couldn't believe it when people replied.. that 'sweet ass sweet' just threw me off, so I had to do some work on this fic. I'll see if I can get the next chapter up tonight. Please, if you have AIM, go ahead and give me a message. I'd love you hear from you. My sn is DrgnPrysm. Thanks, and Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy the revised version of this chapter!

*Note: Kirilla's name is pronounced thus way: key * ril * la.. 'smile' when you say the first syllable. something I learned in French class. I think it makes it sound more elvish, no?


Not many days after, I was able to rise and walk again, though my once graceful stride was slow and stilted. The kind sir who had saved me helped me always.. I had not yet learned his name, but it mattered little, for we did not need names to communicate.

After a few weeks more, the elven warrior came to me as evening fell and reached for my hand, pulling me away from my chamber, out into the forests.

"Where are we going?" I asked hesitantly as he paused to let me recapture my breath.

"We are going to a special place, dear lady. I have to show you something."

I smiled shyly, but, upon catching my breath, agreed eagerly to follow, and we were off again, dashing quickly over the soft grass, the forest eternally caught in springtime. My stride was perhaps not graceful, but swift as ever.

As quickly we started our journey, it was over. He put a hand over my eyes, slowly moving long fingers over my eyelids, closing them before holding the hand over my eyes. I blinked a time or two, and when he chuckled, I could hear a smile in his voice.

"Your eyelashes tickle, Lady Kirilla. Now you must trust me.. I will lead you the rest of the way."

I grinned inwardly. Surely there could not be a sweeter man alive. I knew that I could indeed trust him. His free arm settled around my waist and he led me slowly. I could hear the roar of a waterfall grow louder. The soft sprinkles of the water soon sprayed upon my face, causing a smile to grow, though I could not yet see the breathtaking vision.

"Now.. Now look, mi'lady," he whispered into my ear, slowly removing his hand from my eyes. Sharply I took in my breath, staring out at the scene before me.

I gazed over the beautiful sight before me. The water cascaded down over silvery peaks, falling into a misty shoreline. Mosses and tree branches hung over the edges. Singing birds flew past, butterflies circled in great cylinders. I raised my eyes to the skies, and a wish rose within me. I realized vaguely that my saviour stood behind me, also gazing skyward, soundlessly speaking to the clouds.

"'Tis beautiful.."

"Make a wish, Lady Kirilla.. for wishes are often known to come true when wished upon these very waterfalls."

A wish.. I wished for his love. I wished that we would be together forever. I wished for his name. I wished that I was not an outcast, that I would be welcome wherever he was to go. Most of all.. I wished that he loved me as deeply as I had grown to love him.

Uttering soundlessly my wishes, my face turned downward, down to the depths of the waterfall. Water sprinkled my face, mingling with tears that suddenly found themselves coming. I hoped my wish would not be in vain.

I had not realized I had torn myself apart from the warrior until a fair hand found a place upon my shoulder. I reached up and took the hand, letting his strength pull me to my feet. Then I turned around to face him.

"Your name. I beg of you.. who are you?" I said, almost in a whisper, scared to know, yet excited at the same time.

"I am Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, son of King Thrandruil," he said simply. Then he smiled and continued,"and.. I love you. Nimelyë."

I froze. The words Mirkwood and Thourin passed through my soul, searing both the unicorn side of me and my elven heart. The soft look on his face gave way instantaneously to fear.

I shook violently, sinking to the ground. Thourin. Mirkwood. Oh, please, no. No. No, this could not be happening. Not now.. not with my saviour.. the dear Legolas. I began mumbling incoherently, which rose to a shriek quickly. "Náie.. no.. not now, not Mirkwood.. Not NOW! Not Legolas! Náie!!!" I shrieked desperately to the skies, then rose and tore from the concerned warmth the elven man represented.

My legs hurt.. the left one threatened to give out. A glance back told me Legolas was following, but I knew I would have to become the unicorn again to get away. He wouldn't know to look for a unicorn. I threw myself to the ground and curled into a fetal position, concentrating all my might on becoming the unicorn once again. A light surrounded me, and I felt my body changing. I urged the transformation to go faster.

Within moments I was on my cloven hooves, staring back into the forest, standing perfectly still. I heard the elven man's movement, though he was discreet and silent, as elves are. Unicorns, however, have heightened senses, even compared to elven folk.

Tears broke anew from my elven eyes as I began my run through the forest, silvery tail and mane streaming behind me. I ran on and on and on, until it felt as if my heart would burst from my effort and my deep and utter sorrow. Finally, I halted and stood in the center of the forest. A glance to my hind legs told me I could not run further. Anger welled in me. I wanted to get away, far, far away.

Laying to the ground, I became my elven form once again, and sat up, arms wrapped around my aching shins, face buried in my arms as sobs wracked my body and watered the ground beneath me.

This could not be happening. I loved the dear Legolas. But it could not happen, if he truly was Prince of Mirkwood and son of Thranduil. For Mirkwood was a place disliked by all unicorns. They had been the first to conveniently forget the elven oath to unicorn kind. My father had been of Mirkwood, outcast by his kind. Thourin had been, indeed, his greatest rival.

Great sadness swept through my very soul. Hopelessness shattered my being. Visions flashed through my face, of the time when Legolas had saved me with his arrow, the times he'd laughed with me, the times we had shared, simply talking of our adventures. I had not told him of my unicorn and human blood.. He would not have known. As much as I had deceived him about my origins, so had he to me.

Not very much time passed before I heard footsteps coming near and a familiar voice calling my name. Scurrying to my feet, I began a limping run. I knew I had to get away. Gradually my pain numbed to a throbbing hurt. I increased my pace, despite the throb quickening. I knew Legolas was catching up with me, but though my heart felt to bursting, I continued.. it would be easier to die, than to live a life where I could not be with him.

Grief blanketed my senses, and as suddenly as I had begun running, a misplaced step threw me off. The ankle of my good leg twisted as I went down. It felt like miles to the ground, though in reality none but a few feet. I cried out at the pain from my ankle and the pain that soon shot up my leg.

But the physical pain meant nothing when compared to the grief I held within. If the tears had been dampened by the wind as I ran, they came now wish fresh vigor. I allowed myself to collapse on the ground once more, sobbing. I would be alone.. all alone.. forever. I could not live without my beloved! The strength of my sobbing drained me, becoming nothing but the hiccuping and the continued violent shaking that overtook me. Soon, I fell into the blessed darkness.


~*~


"Kirilla.. love.. wake up.. please wake up.. Nimelyë! Please wake up!" a familiar voice whispered urgently. The darkness of sleep began falling away, leaving in its wake a dim light, and a face I knew well. Panic filled the dark eyes of Legolas through my barely-opened lashes. I wondered why there was such panic within.. then my mind was filled with memories of the day.

I sat up ever so slowly, keeping my face down. I would not meet his eyes, for surely he would see the shame and grief I beheld.

"My dear lady Kirilla.. what has caused you so much anguish? Please.. please tell me what happened.. I will fix it, no matter the cost.. please," he spoke in a rough voice, trying to sound chivalrous. I knew he would try to fix it.. but he couldn't.

His strong Elven pride had abandoned him, I noted. Guilt welled up within. A tear corused down my grass and dirt stained cheek and fell to the ground. Why? Why, oh why did it have to happen like this? I spoke not, feeling my voice would give me away. Instead, I pondered his words of waking me.. Nimelyë. He loved me? He.. loved.. /me/?! Terror built up. No.. it would have been better if he didn't love me.

"Please...," he continued to plead, yet only now did he wrap an arm around me shoulders and flicked the strand of grass the tear had landed upon. He pulled my face to his chest and gathered the rest of me onto his lap. The tears returned, and sobs once again cursed me with their wicked presence. I dared not look to his face still yet, burrowing closer to him, trying to meld right into him, so that I would never forget his smell or his feel or his delicate touch.

"Kirilla.. tell me what is wrong! You must! I must know what causes you so much grief!"

The concern in his voice seared my soul like getting burned by a fire. I jerked and pulled away. I did not get far before my ankle gave out and I fell to the ground in a pile. I curled up into a fetal position once again, hiding my face. Not a moment later, he had pulled me into his arms. One of those beautiful, light hands came to my chin, forcing it upward.

A sense of doom overcame me. I tried to look back down, but he met my eyes with all the sadness I had somehow known would be there. I wanted to cry, but realized I already was.. the tears increased, large drops splattered down between the two of us. All the shame, sorrow, pain, and guilt I felt was renewed.

He did not speak, but only raised the hand that had brought my pain to his knowledge. I flinched unintentionally, and saw surprise flicker through his eyes. But he continued on his plight, and ran his hand over my scar, tracing it. From thence, he trailed long fingers over my entire face, down to wipe tears from one cheek, then the other, though they kept coming. He brushed wild strands of hair out of my face and continued his tracing pattern, as if trying to memorize it, yet there was nothing but tenderness filling his touch. His eyes never left mine.

After many minutes, Legolas pulled me back to his chest, stroking the back of my head, though I believe he was trying to keep his own tears from showing. Yet I felt them, warm and wet upon my skull, there only moments before he brushed them away.

"What ails you so? Why won't you speak, Kirilla?"

I shook my head, then pulled away and attempted to stand, but fell back down in a heap, crying out in indignation and surprise. Legolas pulled me back into his arms, stood up, and shifted me to a better position. Then, with a big sigh, he began the trek back to Rivendell. I rested against him, somehow soothed by the rocking movement. For the time, I was very grateful for the smooth gaits elven folk have, and let myself relax into a semi-darkness.