Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, and all its characters, races, and creatures, as well as our beloved Middle Earth, belongs to JRR Tolkien.

After I nursed Leofa for the last time this night, I decided to walk in the Queen's garden. It was amazing how beautiful Arwen had made her private garden during the time I had been away. Of course I had not seen it but once and that but a brief glance on the night of the banquet when she had been introduced to a select few of us in the city. I marveled at her talent at growing things; needless to say it was much changed. More trees had been planted. She must have had them moved from elsewhere. They were already larger than mere saplings should be. There were vines creeping up the walls and on trellises, some of them night-blooming; their flowers exquisite of fragrance, their petals shining in the moonlight that chanced out now and then from behind passing clouds.

I wandered a little deeper into the shadows of the trees and shrubbery and found a stone bench upon which I seated myself. The moon was three quarters full and small lamps lit the pathways, so it was not difficult to see one's way at all here at night. The breeze was very pleasant, and if I had not been so torn inside with decisions to be made, I would have been quite content to sit here for hours, just drinking in the sweet scent of the flowers and of the grass newly cut just today.

I then remembered my little secret garden, where my sweet son had made his beginnings. It had but one lonely tree and a small patch of grass. I wondered if it had been fortunate enough to have someone find it and care for it in my absence. Perhaps it now flourished as this one did. I decided I would visit that special place on the morrow, if time permitted. I was not certain if I looked forward to seeing it again or not. It held both pleasant memories and ones not so pleasant. I would decide how I felt about it when I saw it again.

I had done nothing but ponder my dilemma ever since I had left the King and Queen this afternoon. I had run through the gamut of the 'what ifs' and the emotions—good and bad—and the reactions of the people involved. My head was fair spinning with it all! As I sat here now, though, I was wondering about the question Arwen had put to me: 'what did I want?' What did I truly want?

I wanted that Directorship, that was for sure—so bad I could taste it! What a feather in my cap! What a crowning glory! Everything I had worked for all rolled up into one big present with a large red ribbon on top!

I listened to my thoughts as they ran through my mind. I sounded like a child at Yuletide, did I not? A child. "You still have much maturing to do, young one." Elrond had said that just this morning. So, if I would be mature about this offer, what would I do? I would consider the position from all angles, that is what I would do—were I being an adult about it.

If I thought about doing the actual job of a director, what did that exactly entail? It dealt with a copious amount of paperwork, I would imagine. Likewise, it probably held its fair share of personnel headaches as well. Staff. My favorite part of the healing profession, was it not? How many patients would I see? None, that is how many. How much diagnosing would I do? The same amount—none. Sounds like a dream position, Maeren, does it not?

It irks me to no end when something I believe is the most wonderful of things turns out smelling like sewage when I am finished thinking it through! That cut out one tantalizing tidbit from the enticing pie the royals had served to me.

I would dearly love the pomp and glory such a position would give me, but I would not love the day-to-day workings of the directorship, were I to accept it, I did not believe. The very reason I loved the healing profession was in the dealing with the sick and injured. Watching them heal was the sole reason for doing it in the first place! Figuring out what was wrong and how to fix it was the meat and bones of the occupation. Sitting behind a desk and dealing with whining individuals who did not like the long hours, or thought the work too tiresome or backbreaking, was not the reason I became a healer. No, as tempting as the offer sounded in the beginning, it was sounding more and more like a reason to run home as fast as I could, truth be known!

With the directorship out of the equation, the other things were back in the places they had been before they had been upset by the offer made by the King. I had been doing quite a bit of thinking about my relationship with Elladan over the past few weeks, and if I would be truly honest with myself, I would have to admit that I was in love with him to a certain extent. I did love him very much.

But not enough to wed him.

It was true; I lusted after him—any real woman would. However, physical craving was but a part of love. Elladan exuded maleness, and the fact that he wanted me just added fuel to my fire. I thought back to the riverbank when we almost made love the first time. The electricity surrounding him pulled me to him as surely as if he had a silken rope tethered to me. Then there was that time in my room when I decided to not turn him away. We would have made love that night—there was no doubt about that. I truly wish it had happened. At least I would have that memory of him. But in the long run, I suppose it was a good thing that we had not made love. The attraction was hard enough to resist without recalling that which I would be missing.

Elladan would be an excellent father and role model for Leofa, and I had considered that heavily when trying to make a final decision. There were no better people than the Elves; there was no questioning that fact. On the other hand, there were no better men than the Rohirrim, either, as far as I was concerned. Every race had its bad apples, and a mother simply had to be on the lookout for those, and keep her child from associating among them, lest he turn rotten as well. No, a father for Leofa was not a good enough reason to be marrying Elladan. Marrying him for that reason would not be fair to anyone, even though Elladan thought it would be a good enough reason for him.

No, I would not be staying in Minas Tirith. There simply was not enough to keep me here any longer. There just was not enough reason.

It seems my mind was made up once again.

I was going home.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I started to rise, but I heard soft footfalls—and practice in discerning differences in footsteps these long months in Imladris, made me know that they were Elven ones. I craned my neck back toward the way I had come and could see the Elf coming toward me, but as of yet, I could not tell which one he was. As he got closer, I could recognize that it was one of the twins, for his walk was one of theirs—he held his head proudly and his satiny black hair swayed gently in the breeze around his square shoulders. He came closer still, and I saw that killer smile—it was Elladan. Eru he was beautiful! How I desired him! I thought again about Elrond and the maturing I still had to do; I suppose that included not giving in to every base desire I had the moment I desired it. A hard lesson would be that one!

"Mind you company?" he asked me quietly as he joined me.

"Not at all," I replied in a like manner. "As a matter of fact, it saves me seeking you out. I have a need to speak to you."

"Oh really?" He seemed intrigued, although why he would seem so, I knew not. He surely knew by now that his siblings had spoken with me. "What would you be needing to speak to me for?"

I laughed at him; he was playing this to the hilt.

"Elladan," I chided, "cease acting densely. You know precisely what I would have on my mind. You and the royals sat up till the wee hours discussing me. You know what I would speak to you of."

"May I sit?" he asked with a grin, pointing to the bench beside me. I nodded and he did so. He took up my hand, and he kissed the back of it, then lowered our entwined fingers to his lap. "I missed you and not only while I was away from you; that last week at home in Imladris, when we were apart, I was very lonely for you."

"Elladan," I whispered. I hated what I was going to have to say to him. It was not as if I did not love him at all and hurting him was hurting me very much as well. "I cannot marry you. It would never work for us; you know that deep in your heart, if you would but look."

He closed his eyes and breathed a huge sigh. His shoulders slumped, and he hung his head for a moment. Then he straightened up and sat tall again. I wondered at what he was going to say.

"Tell me one more time why you think in this way," he said, looking at me sideways.

My head fell back, and I looked up at what stars I could see through the leaves of the trees. Why did we have to rehash this same argument over and over again?

"Which part do you not remember, oh Elf with the perfect memory?" I asked sarcastically. "You remember every single word I have ever uttered to you. Why must I say the same things over and over again? Are you trying to wear me down, until I get so tired of repeating myself I simply give up and give in?"

"Hmm," he mumbled. "I had not thought of that, but it is a good plan."

I slapped his arm playfully, and he turned to straddle the bench and grabbed both my hands to stop me from further attack. We were both laughing by this time.

"I would like to know when this 'relationship'—for lack of a better word—became so heavy," I complained. "As far as I knew, when it started, all we were intending was a simple tumble. Somewhere along the lines, someone changed the rules!"

"I am afraid," he admitted, "that someone was me. I accidentally fell in love with you. I know, I know, it was a foul—totally against regulations. You have every right to quit the game and go home; which it seems you are going to do. And the worst part is, we never got around to having that tumble." He chuckled, but had a rueful look on his fair features.

Eru, he had to stop smiling at me this way!

"That is indeed the worst part," I said wistfully.

Elladan threw back his head and laughed heartily. "You are impossible, Mae!" he said when he finally could speak.

"Well, I am not the only one!" I retorted.

"Indeed, I suppose you are not," he replied, sobering quickly. "I will not lie to you and tell you this does not sadden me. I had such hope that you would change your mind. Father and I had a long discussion about this very subject, Maeren. He has given me his blessing as far as you are concerned. Does this change your thinking at all?"

I thought about what Elladan was saying to me. Elrond was giving his approval should Elladan and I wish to be together. He was accepting the fact that another of his children may embrace a mortal existence. Did that change my mind? Did that alter the fact that I would still be responsible for an immortal to be shortening his life?

"No, Elladan, it does not," I told him. "These past two weeks, watching your brother sicken and not being able to do anything about it, have only strengthened my resolve in refusing you. Elrohir asked me to help him end his life. Did he tell you that, Elladan?"

"No," he answered me, looking totally surprised.

"Watching him go through this 'dying of grief' was the most wretched thing I hope to never witness again, Elladan. It got me thinking; if we should wed, I know you will outlast me. I would not have you going through such a thing as this again—over me. You almost lost your life for grief of losing your brother this time. I can imagine what you went through, but I know what Elrohir went through. I witnessed it for myself. I will not be responsible for having you go through that again, because of me.

"And not only that, you would be choosing a mortal life—ending your immortality. You have the chance to live eternally with your most wonderful father and mother in Valinor, and eventually, you may choose to do just that. You and Elrohir may choose to do that.

"No, Elladan. I cannot have it on my conscience that I was responsible for dousing the light of one of the Firstborn. It is unconscionable to me. Elves are meant for life! For living and breathing and doing—everything! For eternity! It is sinful to me to even think of ending something as beautiful as the light of an Elf! Especially your light. I do love you, you know."

His devilish smile turned sweet, as he leaned forward and enfolded me into his arms. He held me close for a few minutes, and I relished it—not for lust this time; just because it felt so nice to be held by him again. He finally held me away, his hands trailing down my arms to my hands, which he held in his large ones.

"I suppose if you must reject me, those are very sweet reasons," he said with only a touch of sadness in his voice. Gone was the anger and complete sorrow he had shown the night we had quarreled in Imladris on my terrace. I was happy with his change in attitude, but I wondered at it just the same.

"I must say you are taking this very well," I said skeptically. "And I am very glad about that," I added hastily.

"It surprises me, too," he said, smiling, although his brow was knitted a bit with some confusion. "I think it may have to do with my recent near brush with death, and my renewed bond with Elrohir. I suppose with the passing of the millennia, we had grown complacent—took each other for granted, as it were. We knew not how much our psyches relied upon each other for support to get through life. In a way, it is appalling to know that I depend on someone else to live. To not die, I must be near my brother. It is humbling, to be honest. But I think that, while he does not replace you in my heart, having him take up such a large portion of my mind and soul right now is helping me deal more than I know, with the grief of not winning you."

"For that I am thankful," I told him honestly. "I wish for you not to suffer at all—about anything." I looked in his eyes again, wanting to drown myself in their depths.

"You know not how I will miss you once I am back in Rohan for good. And Leofa—that child will not know what to do without any Elves in his life. I will mourn that fact for the rest of his life."

"Who says he will have no Elves in his life?" Elladan asked almost crossly. "Are you banishing me from him? Just because you and I have no future as 'Elf and wife', does that mean we cannot even be friends? Our paths are bound to cross now and then. Estel is Leofa's father—you are planning to let the boy visit with the man occasionally, are you not?"

My face grew hot, so I knew I must be blushing with my mistake.

"I have convinced myself you and Elrohir will go to Valinor," I said in way of explanation. "I realize that is only my wishful thinking, but since it is what I think, that takes almost all the Elves out of Middle Earth in my mind, does it not? That is all that I meant."

"I am sorry," he pouted. "I have very strong feelings for the little man, and I cannot think that you would take him away from me too."

"Worry not," I eased his wounded pride. "When he is here in Gondor, you may see Leofa to your heart's content. And if you visit Rohan, you may see him as well. You have my word as a lady of the Mark!"

"Well," he said, acting a bit less affronted. "I suppose I should feel completely placated in that case." Then he raised one finely arched brow, and I could tell he was no longer thinking of Leofa at all. "What may sweeten the deal even further would be if you would include in there somewhere that tumble we never got around to—"

I gave him a nudge with my elbow, and he chuckled shamelessly.

"You cannot blame an Elf for trying, my lady." He looked at me evilly.

I matched his look, though I watched him from the corners of my eyes and decided that even a mature woman—perhaps especially a mature woman—deserved a bit of pleasure now and then.

"I will tell you what I will agree to, Master Elf," I suggested. "After I have had time to re-establish myself—after I get my feet back on the ground—when we should meet again, I agree to your proposal—of a tumble only. If neither of us has formed any other relationships which would make a tumble inappropriate; and if, and only if, the rules remain in place—no falling in love. We may stay hopelessly 'in like' with each other, but bonding is out of the question. What say you to these regulations?"

"I say they sound most fair," he agreed. "Should we seal the bargain?" Before he gave me a chance to say 'yeah or nay' he pulled me into his arms and kissed me soundly, leaving me breathless as always. I certainly hoped I could adhere to my own rules as I had set them! Right now, waiting didn't seem like such a good idea to me.

"Oops!" Elladan said, looking cheeky. "I nearly forgot! I was sent out here to retrieve you. We have guests, and they wish to see you for some reason."

"Who are these guests?" I asked, wondering who they could be. There were several people on my list that I could guess at—and I didn't feel like guessing at the moment.

"One is tall and one is small," he said, his smile widening.

"Gimli?" I exclaimed. "And Legolas?"

"Two and the same!" he replied.

I jumped from my perch on the bench and pulled Elladan by the hand until he was standing. I then proceeded to pull him all the way back inside the Citadel, until we had made our way into the sitting room, where the King and Queen spent most of their leisure time.

And there they were. My two traveling companions.

I launched myself at Gimli, and I am sorry to say, I nearly bowled him over. But sturdy he is, thanks be, and he stood his ground and withstood my assault of hugs and kisses. He was fresh off the road, but I cared not. He was precious to behold—all the layers of dirt included.

"Gimli!" I exclaimed. "How do you fare? I see Fangorn did not do you in!"

"Twas plain luck, lass," he replied. "Those trees were eyeing us the entire time, I will have you know."

"Better to be eaten by trees," Legolas reasoned, "than to be crushed by a cave-in! By the Valar, I breathed much more easily when we exited Aglarond, let me tell you, that is certain." There was laughter all around by the Elf's revelation.

I took Gimli's arm and led him toward the sofa.

"Come and sit down," I instructed. "You must be very tired."

"Tired indeed," he agreed, "of sitting! I still maintain legs were meant to be used for walking. No need for the use of those four-legged nags!"

"If not for those 'four-legged nags', as you call them," Legolas interrupted, "we would still be ten days from here, Gimli. Hush with the harping and take a load from your feet."

Gimli looked sideways at Legolas and growled, but said nothing. Things never really changed, I was happy to say.

"I am surprised half the cellars of the Citadel have not been drained by now," Elladan put in, pointedly looking for a wineglass in Legolas' hand. "Where's your glass, Legolas? Surely you've had a few drinks by now, my prince."

Legolas glanced at Elrond, as if to gauge whether he was listening or not, then glossed over his answer quickly.

"I had not much thought about it, Elladan," he replied nonchalantly. "Elrohir, how was the trip back to Minas Tirith? Did you meet with any obstacles?"

"Oh no you don't, Thranduilon," Elladan teased. "Answer my question, O Happy Wanderer."

"To what are you referring, Elladan?" Elrond asked at last. Of course he'd been listening. Legolas should have known better than to think otherwise.

"Remember the twenty cases of wine Erestor could not find?" I asked the Lord of Imladris. Elrond looked at me with a growing frown. "Of course Legolas did not drink the whole twenty cases! But he did have a hand in denting the inventory while you were away. For being such an innocent looking Elf, he certainly can drink!" I cast an guiltless look at the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, and had he not once told me he was my friend, I may have feared for my life.

"Oops!" I said quickly. "Was I not supposed to spill that information?" I knew good and well that Legolas would have preferred it be kept quiet, but I was in a mischievous mood and felt like living on the dangerous side of life. I knew not how thin that line was upon which I tread.

"I had wondered to where all that wine had escaped," mused Elrond thoughtfully. "Of course, as Maeren said, all twenty cases cannot be blamed on Legolas' overfondness for drink, I'm sure. Just how sizeable a dent did you put in my wine inventory Legolas? And, may I point out, of the finest vintage I owned?"

"Oh Father," Elrohir interjected, "in his condition, I am sure he was unable to coherently count. I would probably estimate his total consumption at six to eight bottles over his three day stay."

"Six to eight bottles?" Legolas exploded. "Surely you exaggerate. I would have been passed out after the second! Cease your jesting and estimate a bit closer to the real number."

"Ah, but he is estimating very close to the real number, my friend," Elladan added. "Think you we were not curious as to how much wine a prince such as yourself could consume in so short a time? Certainly we added it up—and checked it three times! We were being conservative to save you embarrassment. We did not want to attribute a case to you, but if you insist on accuracy, then twelve bottles it was!"

The entire room erupted into laughter, and, truth be told, I knew not that Elves could turn the color that Legolas turned. His eyes strayed to me, and I knew I was in for it. After all, the subject had not come up until I introduced it. I began to glance around the room for a likely port for the coming storm.

However, I had forgotten that I was in the presence of royalty, and regal Legolas was, through and through—at least in the presence of revered Elf lords such as Elrond and Glorfindel, as long as he was sober, that is. He would be much more subtle than to throttle me in front them. Yet I could see the wheels turning behind those blue eyes of his. Whatever punishment he was concocting for me was going to be of the most embarrassing type—I was plenty sure of that.

I would have to keep my senses sharp to stay one step ahead of him, or I would be the one turning twenty shades of red next.

"So where is the child?" Gimli wanted to know. "I have waited long to see the wee one; when will I be granted my fondest wish?"

"He's already abed for the night, Gimli," Aragorn explained. "Perhaps you could meet him first thing in the morning? And I do mean first thing! He's quite the early riser."

"I understand his name is Leofa, after the Eleventh King of Rohan," Gimli interjected. "A fine, manly name. A fine, strong name, as I am sure, a fine, strong man he will be."

"Thank you, Gimli," I said proudly.

"I, for one, am dead on my feet!" Legolas declared. "Good night to you all. I am going to rest myself."

"Don't believe it for a second," I said, "He seeks the wine cellar. You can all be assured."

The look he gave me promised retribution, but he said nothing more. He just smiled in a very dangerous way.

We laughed and talked, with Gimli telling us of his adventures with Legolas in the most humorous of stories—and at the Elf's expense—until the wee hours of the morning, when we all decided we should retire. It was especially true of those of us who would be dealing with a boisterous six-month-old come the crack of dawn.

As I readied myself for bed, I went back over events in my mind. What a wonderful day it had been. I had been surrounded by Elves, Elladan and I had found a peaceful truce in which neither of us had been hurt badly, and my friends had come in from their travels. The twins were both improving in their health by the hour, it seemed, I had decided about the Directorship, and I was going home very soon.

Things were indeed looking up. Perhaps I would finally get on with my life. After a year on hold I was at last going forward.

That was hardly accurate, would I be truthful with myself. I had not truly gone forward since Dustin and Tristin had perished in the stable fire three—no, four years ago now. I thought I would never love again, and I had been proved wrong. Of course, it still had not been that deep, abiding love I'd had with Dustin, but perhaps this love I had for Elladan was a sign that I could someday feel deeply for someone again. There was hope for me. Haldan thought so, and he certainly believed he knew all there was to know about healing—even setting to rights broken human hearts.

I climbed into my bed, and said a short prayer to the Valar, thanking them for all my good fortune. It was funny. A little over a year ago, I thought it not to be good fortune at all. I was afraid—terrified was more the word—alone, and not knowing where to turn. Now I had my little Leofa, slews of wonderful friends that were almost as close as family and many experiences I never would have had, had I not taken the paths I chose.

One never knew what life would bring you from one day to the next.