'Legolas! Celandiel! Manke naa lle?' Andraste called, wandering away from her camp.

Suddenly, Andraste saw a bright glow not far from where she was walking. A large shadow was among it.

She bent her bow and fitted an arrow, calling out, 'Who goes there?'

'I am Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood,' a voice replied, choked in tears.

'What is wrong?' Andraste asked, lowering her bow and rushing towards the figure.

She gasped. Celandiel was dying.

'We must get her to Lothlorien now,' Legolas said in a low voice.

'But it will take one day from here!' Andraste replied quickly.

'Can't you see?' Legolas said loudly, 'Celandiel is dying in my arms because of me!'

'What do you mean?' Andraste asked.

Legolas wiped some tears from his eyes. 'While we setted up camp, Celandiel strayed from me and was attacked by orcs before I could protect her. it is all my fault.'

'Lle mela he (you love her),' Andraste said quietly.

'No, she is with me, it is my duty to look after her,' Legolas quickly replied. 'We must hurry her to Lothlorien. If only we had a horse.'

'Legolas Greenleaf, though you think you do not sound it, but your eyes tell me that you are lying. You love her. And I most obviously don't have a horse, you know that quite well,' Andraste said coldly. 'I don't suppose she will survive and live to reach the Woods. I advise you to prepare yourself and ask the Lady for a casket to mourn over her.'

'You shall not say such things about Celandiel!' Legolas shouted, lifting the Elf's lifeless body.

'Calatalai is your intended!' Andraste half-shouted back. 'Do you mean to say that you would rather have no peace among our race?'

'Yes, I do.' Legolas said threateningly, and disappeared into the darkness.

~*~

Celandiel remembered a white-hot searing pain on her shoulder; now it was just a dull throb. She opened her eyes, and they traveled from a necklace that was certainly not hers hanging round her neck, to Legolas, who was feverishly trying to get her somewhere. She picked up the necklace, looking at it closely. It was a wreath of Mirkwood leaves surrounding a rain drop-shaped pearl that was glowing brightly.

'Legolas?' Celandiel's voice sounded hoarse.

'Celandiel!' the Prince gasped, gently placing her on the ground. 'You're still alive!'

'Yes I am,' Celandiel smiled weakly. 'I am quite fine, actually, except for the gentle throbbing on my shoulder.'

'It's your wound,' Legolas sighted, his eyes filling with tears. 'It was my entire fault.'

'No it wasn't,' she protested, struggling to sit up. 'I wandered away from our camp.'

'No; do you not understand?' the Elf said desperately. 'I was to protect you, and I could not fulfill my duty!'

'Legolas! Don't put all this blame upon your mind!' Celandiel said, worried. 'You still are young.'

'You truly are a brave Elf, Celandiel.' Legolas smiled sadly, kissing her forehead. 'We must continue our journey to Lothlorien.' He picked her up and began to walk again.