A/N: Updating at my usual, excellent speed. Sorry! Bear with me, this is a lot of speculation and character development. Same warnings apply as always. On a side note, the next part finally has an at least semi-slashy scene. I hope that's good...

Here's my thank you list: Thanks for the great reviews, I really appreciate it! Especially Ryka, thanks for the advice and feedback, and Riley for the super sweet review (your stories are great). And AJ Matthews (love your stories), Krad, Kelly, Laorin (Glad you enjoyed it even though it's slash) and Crimson Productions. Sorry anyone I missed! I'll write a long one some time.

So keep an eye out, and keep reviewing if you want more. It's what keeps the story going ^_^



"I was often told of Galadriel's mirror. Upon looking at it, you can see anything. Anything that needs to be seen. The Lady of the Woods is not one for speaking, and yet I clearly recall her only warning: Do not touch the water. And never have I questioned that. It comes from a fountain quite like any other. You cannot be burned by water." Legolas turned the vile over in his hand, running his fingers over the broken glass. "So what is this feeling within me?"

"Unease?" Aragorn suggested.

"I've been in far more dire straits, Aragorn, than this. It cannot be..." he trailed off. "I feel no malaise, I promise you. Elves do not feel-"

"Legolas, I do not care if you are an elf. I do not judge you on your race. I do not find your emotions to be your weakness. And while I am not asking you to try and be a man," Aragorn lowered his gaze, suddenly finding the ground quite enthralling, "I ask that you try to be real. There is no perfection, not even in elves."

"I feel like I do not know anyone, even having lived for 3000 years. I don't know the world, I don't know you, I don't even knew myself lately. If ever I did." His tone was lingering and open, leading into more narrow passes. Slowly, Legolas asked, "Tell me, Aragorn. Are you in love with Lady Arwen?"

The man was silent for a moment, and when he spoke his voice was abject and flat, "I try to forget. If I dwell on such utopian fantasies-love and beauty and an ending for every start...Then I must possess them. Wherever, however I can." He looked somewhere past Legolas, his eyes piercing and elegiac. And then the look was gone, and once again he was weary and mortal and concrete.

Shrugging, Legolas said, "And I am just the opposite. For each start, I fear the end. Because for every action, no matter how pleasurable or painful, I know it will be over. And eventually I shall forget it. But if it does not start it cannot end. It cannot be experienced and I cannot forget it."

"If it does not end, there can never be another," Aragorn said resignedly. "I cannot define words with words. It would be all but meaningless, and love is hardly that."

"Isn't it?" asked Legolas, "Every attraction begins with beauty, every love must come from some attraction. Is that not shallow?"

"I never knew you were such a pessimist," said Aragorn, evading a direct answer with practiced ease. If a wound is raw it is best to let it heal by itself. Touching it will only worsen the infection. Not that it matters that much. It's always the pain that really matters. Let the wound fester and bleed. So long as it does not hurt, you will not notice. All but fleetingly, Aragorn realized that he hadn't once met the elf's gaze during their exchange.

"We'll be at Lothlorien soon and you can rest," said Legolas suddenly. "You do know you've cut yourself?"

Aragorn reached instinctively for his face, running a forefinger over his cheek. There was a narrow cut, barely more than a scratch. Must've gotten snagged on a low hanging branch or something of the sort.

"You should clean it," said the elf.

Aragorn blotted it with his cloak, still walking, "It can heal itself, I assure you."



Around midday the sun began to filter through the canopy of leaves, which was growing ever more lush around the two. The leaves rustled in a lyrical rhythm, humming a ballad without a melody. It was growing ever more obvious that Lothlorien was close by. Aragorn was practically panting in his attempt to keep up with Legolas' scenic route through the woods, by which he was leaping across streams and even mounting small trees on occasion.

"Legolas, I think you're doubling our time by doing that," Aragorn called out to him, halting to catch his breath. "I fail to see the logic in going over the trees rather than under them."

"It makes me feel so light to be above the trees," Legolas replied, his voice filtering through the leaves.

And nothing more.

He didn't say half of what his words insinuated. //By feeling light, I do not feel heavy. In heaviness, I feel depressed. And in depression, I feel myself growing hot with fever. I cannot afford to fall ill because of my own emotions. Not now.//

"It's impractical," retorted Aragorn."You cannot see from there, Legolas."

"I can see everything I need to see." Legolas peered over the endless strip of leaves, sky and light. That was enough. It always had been enough.

"Hardly. For I am standing but a few feet from the entrance to Lothlorien."

Graceful as ever, Legolas was next to Aragorn. He gave the man a wry shove and then ran ahead. He did not need to be tousled at this point.

Aragorn ran after him with a smirk tugging at his lips, "Are we going to see Galadriel right away?" he asked, catching up.

"Just to let her know of our arrival. I'm sure you're tired and need some rest." Yet Aragorn could not help but note that the elf absently wiped his forehead, panting silently. Suddenly, he stopped. Around them, the trees spiraled into the sky. Waterfalls cascaded over rocks, smoothing the edges to the point where they were nonexistent, only curves and mellow dips. Spires of mist permeated the air from the crystalline waters.

And it was perfect, to all those who chose to believe in such ideals.

"Pretty," said Legolas, craning his neck to take in as much as possible.

"Lovely," agreed Aragorn, stopping as well. "Where do you suppose Lady Galadriel would be?"

"In front of you."

Galadriel stepped forward, looking as radiant as ever. She arched an eyebrow at the man and elf. "Welcome. I did not expect you to be here at so small an hour."

Legolas knelt on one knee, "My lady, we have left our quest in order to seek your guidance. I have many questions, and answers have been scarce."

"I'm sure. Come and rest yourselves, and we shall speak in the morning." She turned to go, but paused when Legolas spoke again.

"If it's no trouble, may I sleep outdoors tonight?"

Galadriel smiled, her eyes and tone sibylline as ever, "I thought you might wish to. Of course, you may."

Legolas did an accomplished, sweeping bow. "Many thanks for your hospitality."

"I too, will stay outside tonight," said Aragorn.

"I did not doubt it. Then, I'll leave you two until dawn. You will know where to find me." She nodded to them both, and in her usual, surreal fashion glided away.

And neither saw her draw a tenuous, relieved breath as she passed



The air of Lothlorien was not tainted by the elements. It was untouched by civilization. It was free from any harm. A sanctuary bred in the depths of Middle Earth. So it was with no trepidation that Aragorn and Legolas lay down on the silken mosses of the forest, blissfully and purposefully unaware of anything. And that, for the moment, was fine.

"I don't know what to think now," murmured Legolas, "I don't know if this was all in vain; if I've betrayed my duties to my whims. Yet this mystery leads me in ever deeper. Look here," He took out the glass vial. "Take this, and break it."

Aragorn took it and turned it over, "It is already broken. We will need it to show to Galadriel."

"Go on. I swear to you, no harm will come to it."

"It is only glass, Legolas. It will shatter easily." With a shrug, he struck the small ampule on a rock, hard. And beneath the force a few fragments of stone chipped away, leaving not so much as a scratch on the glass. "Elvish?" Aragorn suggested.

"I'd think so, save the fact that it is already broken. And quite well, at that. I do not think that anyone could break this by force."

Aragorn closed his eyes, "Legolas."

"Hm?"

"Stop talking. Just forget for a moment."

Legolas shook his head, "I cannot."

"Alas, the irony."

"How so?"

"You have eternity ahead of you. You could ponder this for months and not make a dent in your lifetime. My life is waning by the day, yet I'm the one telling you to slow down."

"But I..." He flinched, that verdant, wispy voice sounding in his ear again. That same list of names. And one more. And for the briefest of moments, he feared hearing his own name. He hesitated, and then asked charily, "Do you hear anything, Aragorn?"

"Nothing. It's never been so quiet."

Legolas nodded, tossing his head, listening. Indeed, he had never heard such silence. It made him yearn to forget everything in the vacancy of space. To hear nothing ever again, except for Aragorn's idle and complacent words. And he didn't even want to understand them suddenly. He just wanted to hear this lovely nothingness washing over him. The assuaging solace that someone was speaking to him, yet nothing was being said.

"Never mind. I hear nothing now." He lay down as well, hands crossed beneath his head. Leaves spiraled from the trees, spry and graceful in the still air. "I never realized how quickly the seasons change. The minutes. The sun. Everything. It all changes, doesn't it? I can't even tell day to day, but when I compare year to year...It's all changed. But you know what? I haven't changed at all."

"And would you want to?"

Legolas paused, "Yes. I can only measure time against what happens to those around me. For me, time is nonexistent. Do you realize that? It's not even a concept. If not for those around me who do live day by day. If not for you." He bit his lip, fishing for words, "I realized, the other day...You said you'd never leave me. But there's no never, Aragorn."

"Not for you. But there is for me."

"I hate that," he gave an abrupt laugh. "I think I'm jealous of you. You and your mortality that allows you to savor and appreciate life."

"I only relish life because of what's in it. Not because one day it will end." He turned his head to the side, regarding Legolas warily. "You have to find that yourself."

Legolas narrowed his eyes and said simply, "Do not patronize me." He turned to Aragorn, his eyes flickering with some nonexistent emotion, his voice jagged and cut, "More and more I hear of man's ascension. And more and more I think that it is not the dwarves I should be at odds with, but with men. Men, who despite their weakness, have something I never will." He met Aragorn's eyes, seeing cognition and sadness and control and...

"Never pity me," he finished, "Because I do not have the perfection to merit it."