A/N: Thank you to everyone who's been reading! I still don't own any of
these characters. I'm sorry if there are any typos, but I don't have time
to check this before I go off to school. Hmm… maybe I should get a beta or
something. Oh well. Enjoy!
Legolas dismounted and was at her side in a moment. He carefully turned her over and noticed with relief that she was breathing regularly. He gingerly checked her for broken bones, but could find none. She had apparently just passed out from a combination of exhaustion and hunger. He shook his head in wonder at her stubbornness and gazed down at the companion of his childhood. This was the first time he could do such a thing with arousing her suspicions and making her antagonistic.
He noticed that time had been relatively kind to her. Her hair was still mostly black, and the silver merely accented the dark lustrous sheen of the rest, like stars in the night sky. He grimaced at the lame metaphor, but continued his scrutiny.
She still had the same graceful bone structure, with high cheekbones and a delicately pointed chin. In the dim light of the falling dusk, Legolas could almost fool himself into thinking that she was the same Undómiel that he had hopelessly fallen in love with those many years ago in Rivendell. He had never told anyone, of course. It would not have done any good. He knew that her fate did not lie in his keeping, and he thought that he had come to terms with that long ago. But sitting in an obscure forest at dusk with the woman he had loved in his arms, he wondered if he had made the right decision. Had her fate already been written, or had that just been a convenient excuse to cover up his fears? He sighed. It did not matter now. All he had to do for the moment was keep her safe.
Gently laying her back on the grass, he went over to the horses, grabbed her bedroll, and made her comfortable. Once that was accomplished, he set up camp and began to prepare supper.
Arwen awoke some time later to the rich meaty smell of hot stew. She woozily sat up, clutching her head, and croaked, "What happened?"
Legolas looked up from tending the fire and smiled gently. "You fainted from exhaustion and hunger, Undómiel."
She groaned. "You are going to say 'I told you so', aren't you?"
The smile broadened into a grin, but he shook his head. "Me, Your Majesty? I have never felt the need to state the obvious."
Arwen smiled despite herself. "You are so obnoxious. I had hoped that you would have grown out of it by now, but I see that is not the case."
He spooned some stew into a bowl and brought it to her side. "Obnoxious, maybe. But conscientious. Here."
Arwen accepted the steaming bowl, and sniffed appreciatively. She took a careful mouthful, and exclaimed, "Why, it is wonderful!"
Legolas quirked his mouth in amusement. "Try not to sound so surprised. I have many talents that don't include using a bow."
"But you are a prince!" she said around a mouthful.
He shrugged. "I'm not often in Mirkwood, and my royal parade of servants refuses to follow me on my travels, so I had to adapt."
Arwen nodded, digesting this new information, and then asked, "What day is it?"
"You fainted two days ago," he replied, dishing up some stew for himself and sitting down next to her.
"Two days?" she asked in disbelief.
"Aye. I woke you a few times to drink, but you always went back to sleep. I suppose I could have roused you to continue our journey, but I had not the heart. I doubted that you had been getting enough sleep of late."
Arwen's smile was tinged with sadness. "You could say that," she said wryly.
He looked searchingly into her face. The firelight cast a warm yellow radiance on her pale face, making it seem to glow from within. "You do not have to continue with this journey," he said quietly.
Arwen shook her head firmly. "I must continue."
Legolas felt anger well up in his heart, hot and caustic. "It will be the death of you," he taunted. "And for what? To fulfill fate?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.
Arwen's eyes closed, and she seemed to shrink into herself. "Do not mock what you do not understand, Legolas," she said wearily.
"*Make* me understand, Undómiel!" he demanded. "Make me understand why you married Aragorn and forsook your immortality!"
Arwen opened her eyes, and they were as hard and sparkling as mithril. "Can you not believe that I would do so great a thing for love? Or have you never loved so much that you would do anything to be happy?"
Legolas felt like his heart was going to burst through his chest from trying to contain himself. "Perhaps," he suggested tightly, "I have a different definition of love. I always thought that love came with responsibilities, both to oneself and the other person. And if that love was not meant to be, one has to let it go."
Arwen looked at him curiously, and was about asked who he had loved so hopelessly, when she changed her mind and instead asked, "But what if it was fate?"
He looked at her, one eyebrow raised ironically. "Do you believe that you inherited Lúthien's fate along with her beauty? In that case, Lady, your logic is faulty, for Aragorn looked nothing like Beren."
She laughed for the first time since Aragorn's death. "Aye, that's true enough," she agreed. Then she sobered and said, "But if you do not believe in fate, then what you said about responsibility still applies. Aragorn and I were both half-elf, half-human. We had a responsibility to bring the line together."
"But you did not have to give up your immortality to do so!" he said indignantly.
Arwen sighed. "But I loved him, Legolas. I felt that immortality without him would be unendurable, even across the Sea."
"Do you still feel that way?" he probed.
She stared into the fire a long time before answering. "I don't know," she said finally. "As he lay dying, he asked me if I would go over the Sea after his death, and I told him that there was no ship that would do so."
"But that's untrue," Legolas said. "There are still a few ships at the Grey Havens. I am planning on being on one someday."
Hope flashed in Arwen's eyes, but quickly faded. "Nay, Legolas. My choice has long been made, and I am in fact beginning to look forward to death. I am so tired. My father told me before he passed over the Sea that it was not my lot to die until all I gained was lost, and little did I know at the time how difficult that would be."
Legolas's jaw hardened. "Fate has been cruel to you, Undómiel," he said quietly.
"Oh, so *now* you believe in fate?" she teased. The light in her eyes faded as she added seriously, "Do not be sorrowful, Legolas. For if I have lost all I have gained, at least I enjoyed it while it was mine. I do not regret a single day. Well, except when my father stopped us before we could shoot the apple off of Celemaeglor's head," she added mischievously.
Legolas laughed. "Aye, that *was* a pity. Get some more sleep, milady. We will leave at dawn."
Arwen smiled and him. "Good night, Legolas."
He sprawled out on his bedroll and leaned up on his elbow to smile warmly at her. "Good night, Undómiel."
He lay back down and stared at the stars through the leafy canopy of the forest, listening to Arwen's deep, even breathing. The fire died to embers, and the moon made its journey across the sky, but Legolas remained awake, thinking.
A/N: Oh, the angst! Poor Legolas! Poor Arwen! More later, ya'll! Please review! L&A love them!
Legolas dismounted and was at her side in a moment. He carefully turned her over and noticed with relief that she was breathing regularly. He gingerly checked her for broken bones, but could find none. She had apparently just passed out from a combination of exhaustion and hunger. He shook his head in wonder at her stubbornness and gazed down at the companion of his childhood. This was the first time he could do such a thing with arousing her suspicions and making her antagonistic.
He noticed that time had been relatively kind to her. Her hair was still mostly black, and the silver merely accented the dark lustrous sheen of the rest, like stars in the night sky. He grimaced at the lame metaphor, but continued his scrutiny.
She still had the same graceful bone structure, with high cheekbones and a delicately pointed chin. In the dim light of the falling dusk, Legolas could almost fool himself into thinking that she was the same Undómiel that he had hopelessly fallen in love with those many years ago in Rivendell. He had never told anyone, of course. It would not have done any good. He knew that her fate did not lie in his keeping, and he thought that he had come to terms with that long ago. But sitting in an obscure forest at dusk with the woman he had loved in his arms, he wondered if he had made the right decision. Had her fate already been written, or had that just been a convenient excuse to cover up his fears? He sighed. It did not matter now. All he had to do for the moment was keep her safe.
Gently laying her back on the grass, he went over to the horses, grabbed her bedroll, and made her comfortable. Once that was accomplished, he set up camp and began to prepare supper.
Arwen awoke some time later to the rich meaty smell of hot stew. She woozily sat up, clutching her head, and croaked, "What happened?"
Legolas looked up from tending the fire and smiled gently. "You fainted from exhaustion and hunger, Undómiel."
She groaned. "You are going to say 'I told you so', aren't you?"
The smile broadened into a grin, but he shook his head. "Me, Your Majesty? I have never felt the need to state the obvious."
Arwen smiled despite herself. "You are so obnoxious. I had hoped that you would have grown out of it by now, but I see that is not the case."
He spooned some stew into a bowl and brought it to her side. "Obnoxious, maybe. But conscientious. Here."
Arwen accepted the steaming bowl, and sniffed appreciatively. She took a careful mouthful, and exclaimed, "Why, it is wonderful!"
Legolas quirked his mouth in amusement. "Try not to sound so surprised. I have many talents that don't include using a bow."
"But you are a prince!" she said around a mouthful.
He shrugged. "I'm not often in Mirkwood, and my royal parade of servants refuses to follow me on my travels, so I had to adapt."
Arwen nodded, digesting this new information, and then asked, "What day is it?"
"You fainted two days ago," he replied, dishing up some stew for himself and sitting down next to her.
"Two days?" she asked in disbelief.
"Aye. I woke you a few times to drink, but you always went back to sleep. I suppose I could have roused you to continue our journey, but I had not the heart. I doubted that you had been getting enough sleep of late."
Arwen's smile was tinged with sadness. "You could say that," she said wryly.
He looked searchingly into her face. The firelight cast a warm yellow radiance on her pale face, making it seem to glow from within. "You do not have to continue with this journey," he said quietly.
Arwen shook her head firmly. "I must continue."
Legolas felt anger well up in his heart, hot and caustic. "It will be the death of you," he taunted. "And for what? To fulfill fate?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.
Arwen's eyes closed, and she seemed to shrink into herself. "Do not mock what you do not understand, Legolas," she said wearily.
"*Make* me understand, Undómiel!" he demanded. "Make me understand why you married Aragorn and forsook your immortality!"
Arwen opened her eyes, and they were as hard and sparkling as mithril. "Can you not believe that I would do so great a thing for love? Or have you never loved so much that you would do anything to be happy?"
Legolas felt like his heart was going to burst through his chest from trying to contain himself. "Perhaps," he suggested tightly, "I have a different definition of love. I always thought that love came with responsibilities, both to oneself and the other person. And if that love was not meant to be, one has to let it go."
Arwen looked at him curiously, and was about asked who he had loved so hopelessly, when she changed her mind and instead asked, "But what if it was fate?"
He looked at her, one eyebrow raised ironically. "Do you believe that you inherited Lúthien's fate along with her beauty? In that case, Lady, your logic is faulty, for Aragorn looked nothing like Beren."
She laughed for the first time since Aragorn's death. "Aye, that's true enough," she agreed. Then she sobered and said, "But if you do not believe in fate, then what you said about responsibility still applies. Aragorn and I were both half-elf, half-human. We had a responsibility to bring the line together."
"But you did not have to give up your immortality to do so!" he said indignantly.
Arwen sighed. "But I loved him, Legolas. I felt that immortality without him would be unendurable, even across the Sea."
"Do you still feel that way?" he probed.
She stared into the fire a long time before answering. "I don't know," she said finally. "As he lay dying, he asked me if I would go over the Sea after his death, and I told him that there was no ship that would do so."
"But that's untrue," Legolas said. "There are still a few ships at the Grey Havens. I am planning on being on one someday."
Hope flashed in Arwen's eyes, but quickly faded. "Nay, Legolas. My choice has long been made, and I am in fact beginning to look forward to death. I am so tired. My father told me before he passed over the Sea that it was not my lot to die until all I gained was lost, and little did I know at the time how difficult that would be."
Legolas's jaw hardened. "Fate has been cruel to you, Undómiel," he said quietly.
"Oh, so *now* you believe in fate?" she teased. The light in her eyes faded as she added seriously, "Do not be sorrowful, Legolas. For if I have lost all I have gained, at least I enjoyed it while it was mine. I do not regret a single day. Well, except when my father stopped us before we could shoot the apple off of Celemaeglor's head," she added mischievously.
Legolas laughed. "Aye, that *was* a pity. Get some more sleep, milady. We will leave at dawn."
Arwen smiled and him. "Good night, Legolas."
He sprawled out on his bedroll and leaned up on his elbow to smile warmly at her. "Good night, Undómiel."
He lay back down and stared at the stars through the leafy canopy of the forest, listening to Arwen's deep, even breathing. The fire died to embers, and the moon made its journey across the sky, but Legolas remained awake, thinking.
A/N: Oh, the angst! Poor Legolas! Poor Arwen! More later, ya'll! Please review! L&A love them!