A/N: aight, a bit of explanation….i went off this story for a bit because….i wrote a couple chapters (posted a couple, actually) and I just didn't like where it was going and….sort of stopped writing it. But now I feel the urge to write some fanfiction, and I think I have enough fluff for now…..*smiles* so I'm picking up here, because I'd like to change the story a bit. Sorry for any inconveniences and many thanks to all my reviewers, however small their numbers may be!!!

***

It was not his fault. It was not his fault. It was not his fault. Fat, pearly tears rolled down Sarryia's cheeks as she repeated the phrase over and over again in her mind. Her veil had been ripped off carelessly, her jewelry abandoned, her skirts tattered and her feet bare. She collapsed on the ground outside the palace, near the woods.  Ragged sobs tore through her throat now, and her hands clutched unsteadily at the tree. She pressed her face against it, feeling the coolness of the bark, feeling the power surging through it. It could not be true. But it was. It was not his fault, it was not his fault. Softly, she muttered to herself between tears.

"It is not his fault. It is mine. I am a foolish idiot, a disgrace. I do not deserve to be an elf. I do not deserve Legolas. I do not deserve life." At her last statement, a fresh round of tears burst through and she gripped the bark of the tree as though it was the only thing holding her up. She continued miserably, knowing it was self-pity but not able to stop. "I do not deserve life! I am a pathetic being who believes she knows love and is devastated when she realizes it cannot be! My whole life I have been a failure. I do not deserve to live. I do not deserve to live."

She repeated it to herself until her voice died down, taking her tears with it. Exhaustion took over. Her eyes closed slowly, and she slid down to the ground. Her breathing slowed, her hands unclenched, and she slid into a trouble sleep.

***

Legolas quickly pulled out his chair and stood up, alarmed. A few elves looked at him quizzically, but the music had begun playing again and those not dancing were in deep conversation. Legolas eased his way towards the doors, studiously avoiding the eyes of any maiden. He needed to find Iyarras and - and what? The doors opened easily, and he slipped into the hallway. What was he going to do if he didn't not even understand his own emotions. He sagged tiredly against the wall. A part of him was saying this was madness; that he should step right back in and forget about the person he had known for a bare handful of days. Another part of him, though, a stronger, bigger part, told him that that same step back into the banquet hall would rip his heart apart. He needed to find her. He needed….he did not know what else he needed, but that would do for now.

Straightening, he trotted quickly through the halls. Even at this hour, there were servants lining the halls, dusting things and scurrying here and there with sheets piled high upon their arms. Legolas grabbed one of them by the arm. And older elf, he could tell by the faint lines around her face, but still awed by him. Her eyes were wide and disbelieveing at the sight of the prince himself. Legolas scowled. Awe would not get him any answers, but perhaps it was worth a try.

"Did you see a lady? A very beaut- a very pretty elf? Running through the halls?" The woman managed a hasty nod, and he gripped her arm harder. "Where? Speak, woman! Quickly!"

"That way," she said, strangled, pointing unsteadily towards one of the doors leading outside.

Legolas immediately let go of her arm and ran towards them. He gripped the large bronze handles and pulled back, opening them easily. As he ran outside, he heard it close with a dull thud.

The moon shone strongly, and stars speckled the heavens, creating more than adequate light for Legolas' sharp eyes. Cicadas and crickets chirruped madly at him, and an occasional night bird was heard in the distance. The darkness, however lightened it might be, was oppressive. Legolas quickly scanned the gardens, and the woods beyond. There. A shimmering on the ground next to a tree, the color of Iyarras' dress. It suddenly occurred to Legolas she might be hurt. Frightened and praying this was not the case, he broke into a run.

It was indeed Iyarras. She was sleeping, her lips parted and her makeup streaked on her face from tears. The sight broke Legolas's heart in half. What sort of a monster am I, he thought bitterly, that I bring this sort of pain unto people? Gently, he scooped her up into his arms. Her eyes fluttered open from a light sleep. She looked at his face and blinked several times. Her lower lip quivered, and she squeezed her eyes shut before opening them again, wider.

"No…." she whispered. Tears began running down her face again. She writhed and tried to get out of his arms, shaking her head. "No. No, go away Legolas! I don't deserve you. I don't deserve you, I don't deserve anyone. I don't- I don't- " Her protests were lost in her weeps, and her figure went limp, finally realizing it was useless battling against him. Legolas shook his head, puzzled.

"Of course you - of course you deserve me." He held her tighter. "If anything, I do not deserve you, Iyarras."

Iyarras looked at him for a long moment, contemplating. Finally, she shook her head weakly and licked her upper lip. Legolas decided she looked decidedly pale. Sweat mixed with her tears now, making her face glisten in the moonlight. Her eyes seemed too big for her face.

"Sarryia," she said faintly. "My name…is Sarryia."

And with that, her head lolled back and she fell unconscious in his arms.

***

Sarryia blinked uncertainly. She could make out faint fuzzy shapes around her, but no more. The room had a warm, homely feeling. She blinked again. Drapes, and a large window. Another blink. And there was her dresser! She cracked her jaw yawning, and blinked again. The smile that had begun to form on her face faded away. And there was Legolas, sitting on the edge of her large bed and looking grim.

"So you awake at last," he said to her.

"She let her head fall back onto the pillow and groaned. Her head felt like it had been stuffed with wool and pounded with hammers. Recent memories were as fuzzy as the room had been when she had first opened her eyes.

"How long - " she yawned again - "how long was I asleep?"

Legolas stood up and paced several steps at the end of her bed. He did not appear to have heard her. Every now and then, he would shake his head as though arguing with himself, stop, and then begin walking again, muttering to himself the whole time. Sarryia thought she saw lines on his face she did not remember. He seemed…pained, somehow. Her heart went out to him. She wanted to touch him, to hold, to tell him everything was all right. Her cheeks heated at the thought, but it would not go away. Finally he stopped and faced her, his feet shoulder-width apart, his hands behind his back. Sarryia noticed uncomfortably how considerably larger than her he was; his face was a thundercloud.

"Two days, you slept. I do not know why, but that is the fact. Do you remember?" Not giving her time to answer, or even ask exactly what he was talking about, he plowed on with his speech. "No matter. You ran out, after my - after my arranged marriage was announced." He practically spat those words out, putting as much anger and contempt into them as he possibly could. "I was worried, so I went after you. I found you crying beneath a tree." Sarryia suddenly felt as though she would faint again. She remembered exactly what happened, now. But Legolas had not stopped yet. "You were delusional, I think, though I do not know why. I thought I did, but…I do not know. I - I picked you up to carry you back to the palace . . . and you told me your name was Sarryia. Not Iyarras, as you had me believe."

Sarryia clamped her mouth shut and stubbornly kept tears from flowing. As if she had not cried enough! Legolas peered closely at her face, then nodded, as though her refusal to speak had confirmed the truth. It was obvious he was not finished.

"So. It is true. Well, I told Thranduil about it, of course. I could hardly do otherwise. I think you would find his reaction…most peculiar." Sarryia's breath caught, and all thought of sorrow were abandoned for ones of stark terror. Thranduil knew. Would years have dimmed the grief for his wife? Or would he still be blinded by rage and quick temper - would he still want to avenge her death? Sarryia held her breath and locked her eyes onto Legolas', willing him to go on. Either he did not notice or he did not care, because he gave absolutely no reaction to her gaze.

"Well, he was surprised, as you can well imagine. He stopped and thought for a long moment, and then told me this; I don't know if you can make any sense of it, because I couldn't: 'What's past is past. Years have cleared my mind, and the hot blood is no longer in my veins. All is forgiven. I have seen the error of my ways.' And then he looked at me and told me to tell you that. I don't understand what it means."

Legolas paused uncomfortably at that moment, watching Sarryia's reaction. He hoped she did not realize the part he had left out. It was still as fresh in his mind as I had been when his father spoke the words.

*

"So, Legolas," Thranduil said peremptorily, leaning back in his chair. He looked at his son over steepled fingers, the merest hint of a smile playing on his lips. "This…Sarryia girl?"

"Yes, father?" Legolas said cautiously. This was a dangerous subject to tread on.

"Let's get straight to the point here, Legolas. I am in great disfavor of arranged marriages. Really, I am. When I married your mother, it was for love and love only. But sometimes, son, it's necessary for the good of the kingdom. And we, as rulers - future rulers, in your case - have that responsibility above all. You may not love Fiola - you may not even like her - but you must know that it is essential that you marry her in order to keep all relations within Mirkwood on good terms. Legolas, you must forget Sarryia."

It was all Legolas could do not to collapse down into the chair behind him. He was not sure if it was from shock that his father would imply such a thing, or . . . or from the realization that he would have to leave Sarryia. The second thought cut him right down to the soul. He had never before truly understood the weight that an arranged marriage bore until that moment. For whatever reason, he could not imagine life without her. There must be another way . . .

"Yes, father," he said numbly.

"Good. I trust you will be able to." An emotion fluttered across Thranduil's face - could it be sympathy? - but was gone as soon as it appeared. "You may go bid her farewell, if you wish. I think it would be best to send her to Rivendell, or Lothlorien perhaps. Away from here, and away from you. You may go now."

Legolas bowed his way out stiffly and barely kept himself from slamming the heavy oak door.

*

Which was how he found himself in front of Iyarras - no, Sarryia. He would have to remember that, now - asking her to explain so that perhaps he would not feel quite so bad about putting her out. So far, however, the sight of her had only made him love her more. Right now she looked rather frightened, though, and she chewed her lip as though trying to pick out the best words.

"I know what it means," she said finally. Legolas waited for more, but it seemed that was all she was willing to say. She closed her mouth and moved her lips silently. If Legolas had now known better, he would have said she was whispering thanks.

He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. A clean break was best, his father always said. It applied here as well as anywhere.

"Sarryia, you . . . you have to go." She narrowed his eyes at him, obviously not understanding. Legolas was quite proud of the fact that his voice didn't shake. His hands, though, were another matter. "I'm afraid you are cumbersome to my marriage. In a week, I would be most appreciative if you had left Mirkwood's grounds." Her eyes were now as wide as they would go, and thoroughly disbelieving. Legolas hoped the reason they were shining so was because of the light. He plowed on roughly. "You will be provided with money, and necessary supplies, but . . . you must leave. I am sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, and so unexpectedly." He bowed smoothly. "By your leave, lady."

Legolas spun quickly on his heel and all but ran out the door, leaving a shocked Sarryia behind him.

***

Sarryia worked her mouth, but no words came out. Not that it mattered, anyway; Legolas had already left. She felt. . . empty. As though she had cried all of her tears and had no more. Leaving. Forever, probably.  A lifetime without Legolas. Legolas, the only person she had ever loved, the only person she had ever truly cared for. How bitter it was. First chased away by father, then by son. What was an elf to do?

She sat up a little. Whatever happened, she would not take it lying down. Legolas was meant to be hers, she was sure of it. He was meant to be hers, and a he would be hers. Whatever the price. Whatever the cost. There must be a way. Already in her mind, plans were forming.

***

A/N: Yay! End of the fourth chapter and I actually LIKE where this is going! *beams*  Please r/r!! I'd be muchos appreciative!