A/N: This is pathetically short...and I know everyone probably thought I'd given up. But actually I had exams and writers block which together are really bad for writing a story. So here's chapter 8, finally. One more chapter after this, I think. Again, I am truly sorry that this took so long. Enjoy, and the next one will be much faster, especially if you let me know what you think! Yeah, I know I ask a lot, but it cheers me up and keeps me writing. Humor me?

This is dedicated to everyone who asked me to continue and who's still reading this even though it took a ridiculous amount of time to post this.



He knew there would be no passionate agreement, no cavalier acceptance and no heartfelt relief. But, it felt okay. It was said. It was over. Now he could say it was in the past, and when anything is in the past it's over with. That's why we do anything. For it to become past.

But there was still the future.

"I can't bring her back," Legolas said finally.

"I wasn't expecting you to."

He bit his lip, "I can't atone for her death."

"I was not asking you to."

Legolas clenched his hands into fists at his sides, barely suppressing a shiver, "Aragorn, I cannot do anything. Because it's in the past, there's nothing I can do for you." With a twinge of guilt, he corrected himself, "For her."

"Then do something for yourself, Legolas."

The elf winced. "Nothing, there's nothing I can do!" If Aragorn was listening he gave no sign of it. "For you though...I will. I will do something."

He sprinted off.



"I'm not proud of coming back here."

"You want me to tell you what you can do? Legolas, I'm hardly in the position to do so. Look at me-fallen. Disgraced. Weak." Galadriel shrugged, her skin so translucent and pale that she looked drained and sickly. He turned away. It was sad to see such change. Immortality had never allowed him that before. "And you as well," she continued crisply, "A mortal and a man. How our people have changed."

"Taunt me as you will. I don't care. Your words don't touch me."

"I know that you cannot hate me, Legolas. No matter what I say my words won't anger you, simply because you loathe yourself too deeply. How much do you hate yourself now, Legolas?"

His hands clenched at his sides, "Plenty." A bitter smirk played on his lips. "But, my lady, you forget that my loving a mortal is no longer a sin-I, too, will die. And I was thinking about that. I was thinking and thinking about how it would feel to die. And I never thought about it before."

He reached out his hand and took Galadriel's hand. Their fingers intertwined together. The tension broke and ebbed away to silence and heat. "Your waterfall...I was thinking how I could destroy it."

She turned her hand over, twisting his with it. "Of course you were. Did you hate me? For putting life in water, whose flow will never cease?"

"No...just a little...perhaps...because I hate myself and we are so alike." He laughed, "And because I hurt Aragorn and without you I'd never have. Tell me..." His grip tightened and his fingers roamed to the small of her back, pulling her close, "...what's done this to you? You look pale. I feel like I could press my hand against you," he pulled her closer, "And you'd snap at the waist."

Galadriel arched an eyebrow and shivered, "I know not what you speak of."

"But you do."

She pulled back, abruptly, but his fingers were latched about hers in a vice-like grip. Legolas' arm had snaked around her waist, deviously knavish. She felt like her entire body was broken and maimed, but realized that only a dagger protruded from her stomach. Blood trickled from her lips, pooling at her throat. She coughed. Legolas' hand embraced her own.

"I didn't even notice," she whispered, words hardly faltering. She was flushed and clammy and nervous. It befitted her, somehow.

"I didn't mean you to," he replied. "But in death, you can be immortal once more. Truly the Lady of the Woods."

She sank to the ground like water; fluid, her movement rubbing satin on velvet. Legolas knelt next to her. Softly, he said, "It was only you who made this mundane land something so extraordinary. Where there was no weather, only sky. No elements, only light. Nothing but perfection. And without you-it too will be mortal."

Galadriel choked back any words, pulling her hand from his, holding it close to her chest. "Nothing made me do anything. I wanted to, inside. Wanted...more..."she coughed again, "The torture...was not what...turned my head..."

"I know it. You are too strong for that."

The sky darkened and thunder screamed in the distance.

And it rained.