Legolas woke with the first light of day, dressing quickly. He collected his meagre belongings from around the room that he had temporarily called home. In his absence the room was left cold, sterile in the dawn-light, no evidence to show it had housed an elf. Legolas stood with his back to the great-carved wooden door, wondering in which direction he should escape. He meant first to exit quietly, through the passage that led to the kitchens and the servant's quarters, but after walking that corridor for only a few minutes he found himself completely lost. When finally he managed to navigate his way back to his door he resigned himself to leaving via the way he had first come - through the maze of corridors that lead from the Golden Hall.

As a rule, an elf does not need to employ caution if not wanting to be heard, but Legolas made sure his steps would not be heard by any. He passed like a morning shadow past the empty rooms and dimly lit corridors of Medulsed, until finally he found the main corridor he followed widening out into the shadowy, but warm gloom of the Great Hall. As always it's walls glittered softly in the flickering light of many candles held in great stone brackets in the walls. He walked silently through the great columns of the Hall, his back at all times to the end of the great room where the ornate throne of Eomer stood, and beside it the slightly smaller throne of Altariel.

Altariel. He shook her name from his mind. Even the whisper of the alias through the corners of his conscious befuddled him, trudging scored and scared memories up from the depths to play again across his eyes. He felt tinged with guilt for leaving in such a cowardly manner...But no, he had said his goodbyes the night before. He had made his desires clear, clearer even than they had been in Lorien, where the wants of his mind and soul had been sullied by words. He had thought at the time that his words would be enough, but they had proved to weak to break through the wall that Elessiel had erected around herself. Altariel. Legolas feared the effect that alter ego had on the daughter of Aragorn. Letting the thoughts ripple back through him, he could recollect the minutest detail of Elessiel as she had been in Minas Tirith, standing on the battlements of the citadel. Those memories flickered and faded, making way for the first time Legolas had laid eyes on Elessiel in Imladris. She had seemed so different, older, wiser, each moment seeming to touch on something she did not know could not control. It was as if she had discovered a power within her, but did not yet know how to use it. Imladris had been the second time Elessiel had rejected him. In Minas Tirith it had been nothing more than the denial of sharing her thoughts, of taking the comfort that Legolas tried to extend. But in Rivendell it was different. They had stood too close, spoken too many soft and heart-felt words to walk away without being effected. In that moment, standing on the night-time path, Legolas had wanted nothing more than to hold Elessiel in his arms and felt the softness of her lips against his skin, but she had not felt the same. For whatever reasons she held within her, she had found the only means of responding to flee the haven of Elrohir and Elladan...

Legolas had forced himself into a world where she did not exist. In the city of Cirdan, no mortals mattered, save Gimli, his dearest and oldest friend. And yet the Lossefalme had been more than a craft built for Legolas and Gimli's journey. It was a symbol of their friendship, and the beauty held therein. For a time Legolas thought he had escaped Elessiel's spectral presence in his endless life. But once the Lossefalme was completed, even as Legolas had stood on the docks watching the great white ship depart into the distance, Elessiel's image had crept back into his mind. She had chased him across the lands towards Ithilien. In the long hours of silence, when only the stone and grass whispered to Legolas, Elessiel's words played over in his head...His eyes would close, his pace would slow, and suddenly he would be back in Rivendell, on that starry evening, standing before she who was most beautiful. In such a despicable way his love had grown - not held proudly above his head for all the world to see, but hidden within his body and soul, slowly seeping from the innermost recesses of his being until it consumed him wholly, from the middle of his heart to the tips of his fingers. It was his loved that fluttered in the wind that blew his hair, and the sweet taste on his lips when he drank water, the cool touch of earth beneath his feet. Then finally, at the moment when Elessiel seemed furthest away, and Legolas fought hardest to keep her from his mind - for the futility of his love was not lost on him - she was there. Those long and wondrous moments in Lorien...when all the world outside the tree top palace that Elessiel had lead him to had disappeared. Legolas had thought his skin had melted away, giving him the courage to profess his love. But aside from all the words that he had spoken, an unwelcome discovery had been made - Altariel. She was shield that Elessiel had built around her, to protect the youngest daughter of Aragorn from the trauma of life, or of the death of her parents. That was how it seemed...

Legolas winced as he pushed open the heavy wooden doors at the end of Great Hall. The sun pierced his eyes momentarily as it peeked over the eastern hills in the distance. He stood for a moment on the edge of the great steps, tilting his face into the wind. It was good day for riding, and ride he would.

He practically ran to the stables, sacrificing much of his stealth for speed. Each moment that he stayed in Edoras was a moment too long. A moment when he would remember all the things he had said to Altariel, trying to break her down and reveal Elessiel, all the things he had said, and still failed. But mostly he shuddered at the mental image of himself the previous night. He saw Altariel staring out of the window, avoiding the sight of him. He had caught something in her eye at that moment, a flicking caught by the setting sun, the burrowed into his mind. He had thought her shield was lowered, he had thought she would finally listen. But he had been wrong, and that knowledge made him all the more resentful of his actions - seizing her by the arms, punishing himself by holding her close, letting the sweet smell of her hair, the soft perfume of her skin sweep him up. Edoras was so thick with that scent it made Legolas almost wretch as he swung open the doors of the stables.

He hurried in silence as he packed his horse, concentrating not on his task, or what was around him, but totally focused on one purpose. To block every thought of Elessiel, or Altariel - whatever name she chose to gave herself - from his mind. Mounting his horse lightly and reigning it towards the doors he failed dismally to register the person creeping up behind him.

" You were going to leave without saying goodbye."

Being an elf, and naturally predisposed to grace, Legolas was just as close to falling from his horse when he heard those choked words. His horse was almost at the doors, and he leapt down silently to open them, not looking at the owner of the tormented voice.

" Were you? I would have expected more from an Elf." her words were slightly sneered, as though to cover the inherit anxiety in her voice.

Legolas sighed heavily and turned towards Altariel heavily, his face stony, his mind fighting to keep the emotion from his eyes and voice. " I would expect not to be mocked." He said flatly. He stared at Altariel silently. She stood in the middle of the stables, wearing the same dress she had worn the night before. Her hair was tousled, and her eyes were dark. She had not been to bed the previous night?

" Then we are both obviously under false impressions." She murmured.

Legolas laughed harshly, the sound cutting into Altariel's flesh and making her jump slightly. " Obviously. But no matter, impressions, false or otherwise between us, are no longer needed." He paused and mounted his horse again. " And so I go." He shrugged and smiled bitterly before turning away. He rode slowly from the stables, letting the doors fall closed loudly. He had already been discovered by the one person he wished to remain hidden to, and being conspicuous was the least of his worries now.

Altariel bit her lip and cursed her heavily skirts as she ran from the stables after Legolas. Gasping, she arrived at his side, walking quickly to keep up with the pace of his horse.

" Legolas, please." She reached up and grasped his hand tightly. Legolas stopped, and allowed himself the luxury of being pulled into her stare. " Please don't leave like this, and think...and think that I don't love you."

" But how do you love me? Like your forefather with advice, who I am old enough to be? Like your brother who would sacrifice the world for your happiness, knowing I would? Or like a lover? The only soul that matches your own. For that is the only way I would have you love me." He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and shook his head. When he looked again at Altariel there were tears in her eyes. " But that is not how you love me. You love me...you love me as the dear friend of your father, who loves you with the wisdom of a forefather, the kindness of a brother. But not the lust of a lover."

" What do you want from me?" She said sadly. She shook her head, and Legolas had to close his eyes to image of her golden hair shimmering in the sunlight.

" Who are you? Elessiel? Altariel? Nay, do not say her, that woman I hate for keeping me from my love. Altariel...I hate the name and wish never to speak it again. That is why no goodbye could cross my lips."

" Legolas-"

" No!" He pulled his hand sharply from her grip " Do not speak. Let me leave your life, thinking somewhere inside you there is a love that matches my own, let me leave without saying goodbye..." He bit his lip and frowned deeply, looking east towards the sun as it climbed higher into the topaz sky. " I do not understand you, daughter of Aragorn. For one so sweet, you should be incapable of causing pain. But pain you have caused, and while the wearing of your days will drag your broken heart, and the scar on your sweet palm, into the earth, my pain, and the scars you cause, will last forever. When the last sun sets, and the world is new, my pain will still stand beside me like a much hated companion. If no other memory you should choose to keep of me, keep that. Wear it around your neck like a weight that would carry you down to the depth of the sea. It shall be my mark upon you. And for my part, I shall wear it proudly on my hand. In my palm where you leave your mark." He turned, and spurred his horse on so greatly and loudly, that many of the folk of Edoras who were just waking from their sleep cried aloud and stopped their business, running to their doors to see the last elf who would walk amongst men in their lifetime, as he rode like a mad horseman from the gates of Edoras into the plains beyond.

***