The next morning Irulan woke up with a headache. 'No wonder!' was her immediate thought, 'After all the wine yesterday!' She sat up, rubbing her temple and gazing around the room. Her eyes found Legolas standing in front of the large windows -the drapes of which were only slightly pulled apart- to reveal a ray of bluish light. When their eyes locked, his smile widened and he turned and walked over to her in graceful steps to sit on the edge of the bed.

Irulan, the memories of yesterday a jumble in her mind, wasn't sure how to react. There was an intensity between them, no doubt. Very much like the one between too people who had shared deep intimacy. She managed to smile in return as Legolas placed his fingers on her temple. "Headache," she croaked and then chose to remain silent as he gave her a gentle massage. To her surprise, it did indeed feel much better merely minutes later.

With the departure of pain the movement of his fingers ceased and they glided down to hold her hand as the elf gazed at her in silence and she just looked back in the same manner. Now that she had finally taken a step, she would expect the overwhelming atmosphere of seduction and attraction to diffuse. Contrary to that, it seemed to have increased even further. Like a silly infatuation it was, making her heart break into gallop every time Legolas moved closer or merely touched her. The only thing about it NOT so silly, was the fact that Irulan was too old for infatuations.

"A new day has dawned," he said suddenly and she broke from the train of her thoughts. "It is a good day for new beginnings."

Irulan nodded, glancing at the light streaming in through the window. "I am ready for it," she said, grasping his fingers gently in return. A moment passed before she found the heart to continue: "I want to thank you, Legolas. For this whole trip. I always wanted to see these places."

Something sparkled in his eyes and his smile widened at her words. "My pleasure," he murmured almost inaudibly, then placed a long kiss on her cheek, embracing her. Irulan embraced him back, her arms slowly encircling his neck as her head rested against his shoulder. It was time to step out of the shell, out of the routine, out of the common and used road and do what was the most natural for all living beings to do: love and cherish.

'How is it possible that everything she does kills and resurrects me over and over again?' Legolas thought, his heart beating furiously at her simple words of gratitude and the even simpler act of embrace. Just now, he wanted to give her the whole world, if her thank you would be something like this in return. 'Millennia I have lived amongst mortals. Countless women I have touched. And yet, at this moment, I feel as if I have done neither and as if this is fresh and new to my senses.' The mystery and allure that came with the feeling was overwhelming. Very much like discovering an ancient and secret room built into your house - the shock of such a discovery after so many years spent in total oblivion to its presence was sizzling. And the excitement one felt while walking in its dusty dimness was simply breath-taking. Even the oldest of beings could not evade the thrill of a new adventure.

His mind insisted on returning to the arguments it had been wrestling as he was watching her sleep from his position by the window. Arguments that pointed to her mortality. Her status. Her current life. These and many other things. It may be new for Irulan, but Legolas had taken that road often enough to know what was waiting for him behind those alluring hills. One would think that after so many times, a wise man would grow wary and cautious of it. Or better yet, stay off the path altogether. He sighed softly. 'No wise man am I, then,' he thought, once again closing his mind to the hammering force of those facts.

"Is it too late?!" she said suddenly, pushing herself slightly away as her eyes widened with alarm. "Have I overslept?"

"No," he said, kissing her hand a final time. "I am ready to go and I will wait for you outside. Take your time, Irulan."

With that he gently squeezed her fingers and turned to leave. 'Amazing!' she thought, scratching her head, 'A man who does not mind waiting! For this alone, Legolas, I can admire you!' A moment later she was running to the bathroom, excited to start another day in a foreign city with the perfect man to guide her through it. The days that she had walked the streets of New York alone and bored out of her wits seemed a lifetime away.

***

The door opened and she walked out. She had changed into a black shirt and jeans and her hair was free but held back leisurely with a single pin to keep it from falling on her face (as silly as it was, Irulan had actually gone through some serious inner battle about the hair issue. Certainly she should not try to make herself more appealing to anyone other than herself – no matter who! But then..... "Legolas likes it this way. What's wrong with that?!" she had told herself stubbornly and had walked out of the bathroom to make it a final decision). The paleness was completely gone and there was a new glow to her olive skin. He knew that it was partly due to the Sharing and carefully avoided any further thought in that area. She smiled and walked up to him as Legolas remained rooted, a gentle and lazy joy blooming in him at her sight.

Irulan remained a step away from him and he did not hesitate to reach out and caress her cheek as he locked eyes with her. "What does your heart desire this day?" he said slowly.

"I….don't know," was the reply, "I am a little…..dazed."

Instinctively his gaze rose to the window and he frowned a little before he spoke: "Paris is not a city to see in a single day. There is much I want to show you…..but it would be wise to set out for Vienna today."

Irulan sighed and nodded. His small smile was followed by a sudden kiss on the cheek. "We shall return later," he sighed finally, placing a strand of hair behind her ear. "But our journey is elsewhere this time." She glanced up at his amused expression and grinned in return. "Let us go, then."

She took his offered hand and they walked out the room, through the corridor and to the elevator. It felt so strange to be like this with Legolas. In Paris, too! Like an absurd dream, almost. Or a honeymoon in an exotic, foreign place. Irulan felt a warmth creeping into her cheeks at that thought and hastily pushed it out her mental frame. Of course not to stray into such dangerous ideas would be easier if he was not holding her hand and kissing it every five minutes!

In the elevator, to her demise, they met Catherine who gave the couple and their entwined hands a very sly look. Irulan almost moaned in frustration and feeling rather irritated, retrieved hers, placing it in the pocket of her jacket.

"How did your clothes fit, Mademoiselle?" came the cheeky question, accompanied with a grin.

"Fine, thank you," she said dryly. To her horror, the woman turned to Legolas then:

"Did you like her selection as well, Monsieur Greenleaf?"

Irulan blushed against all her control and gave her a nasty look. "Of course. Thank you for your aid in the matter," was his rather charming reply.

Catherine grinned wider then. "Perhaps Mademoiselle would be interested in other clothes as well? She barely had time to try on much yesterday. Shall I send up some samples, Sir?"

"No!" seethed Irulan, terrified by this woman and more than embarrassed at their state. "I am fine, thank you."

Unfortunately she ignored Irulan completely. "Perhaps Monsieur Greenleaf would like to see them?" she said, her eyes never leaving the man.

Legolas smiled one of his breath-taking smiles. "You seem convinced of their worth," was his reply. "I have faith in your taste, Madame. No need to try. Since we will be leaving, you can send it to my England address as my gift to Mademoiselle Irulan and have it paid from my account."

It took Irulan a lot of willpower not to object to that and reveal the nature of said items. She gave Catherine a poisonous look (replied with a perfect blank stare) and kept her silence.

****

They had breakfast in another charming cafe and then began to walk through the streets. It was a pity that they did not have time for the magnificent places to see in this city and Irulan had a hard time hiding her disappointment about that. But when the elf offered to forget the Masquerade and remain in Paris, she hastily objected. He had said that they would return, right? If Anne were there she would be shocked by how ready and overly eager Irulan was to repeat such a trip -not to mention with Legolas- and she would most certainly remind her of this fact every five minutes. Thankfully Anne was far, far away in another galaxy.

Legolas guided her through various streets, telling his recollections of Paris and especially the dreadful times of disease and many revolutions, but also the times of romance and luxury. With the past opening before them and gently closing after their passing, they arrived at an automobile sales store. Irulan, curious what this had to do with his tale, waited patiently while someone walked up to them and had a conversation with the elf in French that lasted for a few minutes. After that they were led away to a gallery that held a selection of the finest cars. Now rather surprised, Irulan held out till the end of their exchange and approached the elf as he ran his fingers over the gleaming black shell of a sporty Mercedes. "Ummm...Heath?" she said, and he turned to her, smiling, and motioned her to come closer. "What are you doing?"

"Buying a car," was his simple reply.

Irulan's mouth fell open and for a few moments she lacked the wits to say anything on the matter. "B-buying a CAR?!" she managed to choke out incredulously.

Legolas smiled and walked around to the other side. "Indeed. We will need one to travel more leisurely and at our own pace."

He sat behind the wheel and delved into a conversation with the other man again. Several moments passed and she finally snapped out of her daze, approaching them. "But....," she hissed, still amazed, "but....why can't we rent one?"

Legolas gave her an amazed look, then simply said "I never rent. It is not to my liking to share anything."

"You will buy a brand new car for a single trip?!" was her rather disbelieving question.

The elf turned on the ignition and listened with keen attention for a moment or two, then replied: "Not for this trip alone, Irulan. I will keep it of course."

"But...." she began again, and disregarded the annoyed look she was getting from the other man, "….but you already have so many!"

"In England I do, yes," was his soft answer. A moment later he smiled with sudden discovery. "Would you like to have it?"

Her eyes widened incredibly. "WHAT?!"

His smiled deepened at that. He gave the man some IDs and credit cards and the other left to call for confirmation. "Come sit," Legolas said gently, patting the seat next to him. She remained rooted for a moment, then hesitantly walked up to the vehicle and glided to sit on the seat, still unable to understand what was happening at the moment. "Do you like it?" he said softly, grasping her hand and placing a kiss on it.

"It's gorgeous. I mean....I don't know much about cars. But....it seems really nice," she stammered.

He nodded and continued his ministrations with the pedals. "It is a fine machine. You can use it a lifetime and it will hold."

"Legolas," she said hastily, "I do not want it!"

His look spoke of surprise. "Why not?" he said slowly a moment later.

"Why not?!" she repeated incredulously. "Well......I.....I don't need it!" He just kept looking at her with a blank expression. "It is.....I can not accept such a thing."

His gaze continued for a while. Then a sigh followed. "Surely you will not refuse a gift, Irulan?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered and swallowed softly. "I can not take it."

"I do not understand. I ask for nothing in return." His voice betrayed the honesty of his words. One must not forget that elves had no concept of value like humans did. Not because they lived in richness, but because they held nothing solid and mundane of high value, in the first place. For them, nothing was too expensive or too rare or too grand to part from. They had no concept of expense or money and cared nothing for such things. They enjoyed grace and quality, yes, but had no greed for it and gave it away graciously and without hesitation or second thought to their friends and loved ones. "It is only a car, Irulan," he tried again.

"Only a......only......" Irulan moaned, rolling her eyes. "Yes, exactly. It is a CAR! It's not a bouquet of flowers....or....or.....a box of chocolate....or even a piece of clothing. A CAR, Legolas! And......and not even that! I mean...this is no ordinary car!"

"It does not matter what it is," he said then, annoyed by the argument. To refuse a gift was a rather rude act in elven tradition. He understood human culture and the current times well enough. But he was an elf and had no reason to behave different in the presence of someone who was aware of that. "It is a present from the heart. The nature of it is of no importance."

"I simply can not-"

"I want you to have it," he cut in, his voice growing more determined. When she opened her mouth, he continued: "Do not refuse me again. I will truly begin to feel offended if you do," he said and his voice said that it was final. Discomforted by her behavior (the refusal of a gift! Now that was a punch in the stomach, indeed!), he turned away and watched the attendant speaking on the phone with a soft voice in the adjacent office.

Irulan shifted in her seat, wiggling with discomfort. "Forgive me," she whispered finally. "I just…"

A long and rather tormenting look followed and Irulan did not meet it, her posture open surrender to anxiety. "Explain the reason," he said calmly.

She sighed with frustration. Was he just dense or deliberately cruel?! "I am not good with gifts, I guess," she retorted finally.

That only caused silence. "Not good with gifts?!" came the bewildered reply. Irulan was certainly one of a kind! "What if I bought you something precious?" he said suddenly, very intrigued by her refusal.

"Something PRECIOUS?!" she said with awe and gave him a shocked look. Her gaze wandered through the vehicle as Legolas did not break his observation of her. "You mean from a monetary point of view?" He nodded. "MORE than this?!" When he nodded again, she just laughed nervously. "I seriously can not imagine what that could be!" When he opened his mouth to reply, she suddenly felt afraid of what he would say and intervened: "Does not matter. I would not accept. I'm sorry."

"Well," he said finally, a small smile crawling on his lips, "so am I."

A short silence issued and Irulan gave him a suspicious look as the elf turned away with mock disinterest.

"F-for what?" she whispered, alarmed and not certain why that was.

"For the suffering you must endure from now on."

"What are you talking about?"

When he did not answer and kept inspecting the vehicle, his face an open expression of amusement, Irulan opened her mouth to repeat the question, but right at that moment the sales attendant arrived by their side and produced several forms ready for signature. Legolas didn't even leave his seat and dismissively signed all as the other man gave Irulan a long and intense look. "Do you like the car, Madame?" he said, his accent heavy and his voice laced with curiosity as to what kind of woman was picked by a man like this.

"It is very beautiful," she replied, trying to distract herself from the temper.

"I am sure that you will love it once you sit behind the wheel."

"Ah she will indeed," said Legolas, continuing his signing. "And I hope so, too. After all, it is hers."

The man broke into a wide grin and Irulan just felt like punching both of them. "Oh mon Dieu! What a wonderful gift! Your husband must love you very much, Madame."

At that point all Irulan was capable of was to stare agape and remain too shocked by the idea to come up with a reply. The clerk grinned widely in return and nodded with the satisfaction of having seen the "perfect couple". A few moments later their business there seemed to be done. Legolas turned on the ignition and simply left the store. Irulan looked back at the closing large garage door and then back at him. "I can't believe we just bought a Mercedes as if it where a pair of shoes!"

The elf smiled brightly, changing gear. "There is no difference, really. If I see something I like, I just go for it. And that strategy, Irulan, is not solely for shopping, either," was his suggestive answer.

She shifted a little in her seat with discomfort. "Are we not going to pick up our clothes?"

"Leave them," he said dismissively. "We'll get different ones." When her disbelieving and blank stare refused to disappear, he sighed with mock frustration. "What is this thing with you and your clothes?"

"I did not even get the chance to wear all of them," she replied, not sure how else to put it.

"It that such a dreadful thing?"

"Well...not dreadful," she protested, "but.....I mean it seems like a waste! A waste of money, Legolas!"

He sighed and looked ahead for a while. "I thought that is what money is for. Wasting." Elves! Irulan laughed and looked away. She would not win this argument. And probably none of the others, either. "You know that most of our resources are spent for the good of humanity," he said gently and she nodded in reply. Elves controlled an immense amount of financial power and they used it to keep the world from falling apart. One could only do so much without being too obvious – so most of it was done secretly and in reasonable amounts to keep off the suspicion. And though humans still sold weapons and opened war and turned their backs to famine and poverty, these things would have far more terrifying results if not for the subtle intervention and counter-move of the Circle.

"However," he said then and she came back to the present, "what is left is more than enough to live in comfort. Tell me your idea of comfort."

Irulan thought about that for a few moments. "I don't know," she said slowly, amazed that the question woke no answer in her.

Legolas smiled a beguiling smile and found her hand to bring it up for a kiss once more. "Not to be stuck in yesterday is comfort, Irulan. Not to worry about tomorrow is comfort. To live the moment to the fullest." He watched her frown in thought about that. "We have been on a trip for two days now. Have you thought about your job?" Irulan, rather surprised by that, looked up at him momentarily, then slowly shook her head. "About New York at all?" The reply was the same. "Have you worried about your unpaid bills? Your unfinished work?"

"Not really," was her confused murmur. "I hardly thought about anyone or anything else. Not even Anne....or....or the meeting, Legolas!" she finished in a more excited tone.

He nodded in satisfaction. "You have not even thought about coffee," was his soft comment and her mouth fell open to that.

"So true!" she whispered in awe.

"THIS, Irulan, is comfort," he said and kissed her palm again. "Not to worry about clothes. Not to make plans. Not to look back. And it is worth all the expense, believe me." His hand glided over her hair in a gentle caress. "Let go. I shall take good care of you," he whispered a few moments later.

Irulan sighed and pulled up her legs to sit more comfortably on the seat, facing him. "I sure will try," she mumbled with a grin and he laughed back, his voice echoing in the small vehicle like a melody of joy and hope.

***

The distance was great and the elf took advantage of the fact that the highways of Europe -especially Germany- had no speed limits. And he was so skilled in the art of driving, that Irulan barely felt their speed that reached sometimes 200 km/hr. It was a long drive, yes, but Legolas had chosen it on purpose, for it gave them the chance to speak for a longer time and to be away from the public for many hours. He was an elf and needed almost no rest. And what made it worthwhile above all was the fact that he had Irulan all to himself, sitting right beside him, for hours to come and nothing else to distract them.

During the day Legolas pulled over often enough and urged her to come out to see the spectacular view. Sometimes they strode into the rolling hills for many minutes, their hands locked, or sat on a rock to observe the serenity of nature. There was a peace and calmness in these places that was foreign to her. And she realized that she liked it. The concept of time left her. Along with the unpleasant anxiety and worries concerning the necessities in life. It felt good to share the serenity and the peacefulness of free time with an elf. Whenever they stumbled upon a small village, Legolas stopped at a cafe and made sure that Irulan tasted at least a spoonful or a bite of whatever the local specialty was. Not to mention, that she had enough coffee.

They passed through Frankfurt in the evening hours and he dragged her into a clothing store. The price tags would normally make her turn on her heels and leave right away, but the elf insisted that it was time to shop. Irulan glared at his unreadable expression, torn between rejecting anyway (and freezing in her current attire – Germany was so damn chilly!), or accepting and thereby preventing further delay of their journey. He made the choice easier for her by demanding it and Irulan once again came to observe in amazement how his tone could become commanding in an instant and how it could make her move without hesitation.

After the quick shopping spree and once their bags were placed into the trunk, Legolas was the gentle and thoughtful elf again. For the night he picked a mountain village close to Frankfurt instead of the thriving city and Irulan liked the little, clean pension far better than any of the fancy hotels they had been in. She had eaten so much the entire day that she refused to have dinner.

"As you wish," the elf said, adjusting the collar of her new jacket on her while she observed him with amusement, "In that case, there is something I want to show you."

They drove out of the village, into a small path. Irulan looked out into the impossibly thick forest that hung over their road and that separated one town from another. Here, it was hard to believe that they were in the 21st century – so timeless and untouched it seemed to be. No streetlamps. No traffic. Hardly any people. And yet they drove, until the path winded into a smaller and smaller one, continuing its ascent. Close to the peak of the hill it ended and Legolas parked the car, then walked around to open her door and pull her out by the hand.

His fingers entwined with hers and in silence they paced along a used track that dwindled close to the border of the trees. Irulan felt uneasy and afraid. The silence was strange to her ears and the solitude highly unusual. If Legolas was not there with her, fear would certainly dominate all the other sentiments she felt at the moment. She hung to his grasp and tried not to look into the darkness that lurked beneath the trees.

"Are you afraid?" he said gently, looking back at her, but not slowing his step.

"It is so….dark and silent here," she said and tried to keep her eyes glued to him.

"You have nothing to fear. I am with you," was the soothing comment.

"Yes, of course," she breathed. After a moment's silence she managed a nervous chuckle: "I thought myself so brave! In all the silly novels I read, I was there for the adventures and dangerous deeds! But….." –her gaze wandered up once more, to the trees gently shaking in the silent forest- "……but I think in reality nothing is that alluring. Or easy."

Legolas laughed softly in reply and she felt relief at the sound alone. "Indeed! Middle Earth seems so exciting when you read Tolkien's version. But…..it was a frightening and dangerous place." He resumed his uphill walk in silence for a moment as the only sound was the gentle wind and Irulan's harsh breathing. "Just a stroll through Mirkwood would easily scare the toughest man. And I must add that Mirkwood was one of the safest places to be, in those days."

Before Irulan could ask more about Middle Earth, Mirkwood and all the interesting stuff, they arrived on a clearing that proved to be the peak. She halted, momentarily dazed by the view before her – hills upon hills of patchy, rich forest, a glittering Moon, a navy sky with whisks of clouds, tiny speckles of flickering lights of sporadic towns and villages and an immense silence. Their back was crowded with another array of trees and prevented any view in that direction. But what lay before her was simply…magical.

For many moments they stood in silence, looking down and around and unconsciously her hand found his and held it with awe and excitement. "It is like another planet, Legolas!" she whispered, barely audible over the breeze that was combing through the trees behind them.

"Or another time," he said gently, folding his other hand on hers and finally pulling her to sit on the cool grass.

"Yes!" Irulan whispered, not looking away from the view.

"This is very close to where the Grimm brothers lived," he said, looking at her profile. A smile spread on her lips and Legolas thought it to be fantastic.

"I can see their source of inspiration," she sighed in return.

"Yes. These lands have a romance," he said, taking in the view once more. "Many battles have been fought here, and many fairy tales written. It reminds me more of Middle Earth than many other places."

Irulan turned to him at that, her eyes intriguingly dark in this setting and Legolas stared back, mesmerized. He felt nothing of the chilly wind in his current state of flame and fire and only managed to breathe again when she cast her gaze down, playing with the grass in silence.

Many minutes later she said "I was really scared last night," and the interval was so long that for a moment or two, he seriously did not understand what she meant. "I don't know what I would have done if you were not there, Legolas."

He did not reply right away and instead, reveled in the feeling of being needed. Of being trusted and wanted. Out of its own accord, his right hand found her cheek and cupped it gently. "So was I," came his soft statement many moments later. "My kind is growing careless, it seems. I will make sure that foolish actions of this nature will not be repeated."

Instantly her eyes found his. "What will you do?" she whispered in alarm. The elf remained silent and she grasped his hand, pulling it down to her lap and not diverting her eyes from his. "Legolas.....please promise that you will not punish Baeron in any fashion for this!" He clenched his jaws but did move other than that. "Promise!"

"Mercy or sympathy has nothing to do with justice, Irulan," he said slowly. "Even less so when it comes to us elves. Baeron will most willingly accept the consequences of his actions, I can assure you of that."

Against the caress of his fingers on the back of her hand, the tenseness remained. "Then you must punish me as well," she said finally and the elf froze to immobility.

"I don't expect you to understand," he said, and his cool and dry tone betrayed his displeasure. "Our ways will seem harsh and relentless to you. But it is what has kept us here amongst you all this time. It is what helps us to fulfill our duty. The rules will not bend. Neither for Baeron, nor for anyone else."

Legolas was exaggerating quiet a bit at this point. True, elves were obsessed with justice and rules. But since none would go against these concepts normally or willingly, whenever a breach happened, it was bound to have a good reason and therefore was handled with tolerance. It was not in their nature to be insensitive or purely dogmatic and even the most dreadful of punishments was extremely rare and often involved only a temporary removal from service. A few centuries, to be exact. And yes, it was a terrible thing for an elf - since being so few in number they were rather adamant about their ties, but it happened only in very grave situations. Legolas did not tell her that Sharing was often considered an act of personal preference and that Baeron could do anything he wished in that field unless it became a harmful habit on his behalf with grave results for the mortals on more than one occasion.

"Fine. I expect nothing less," she said, pushing up her chin, staring into his eyes. "That justice would certainly require me to be punished, as well. Because I asked it of him."

"You did not ask it," he growled, somewhat annoyed by her protection of Baeron.

"I would have," she said, waving her hand in a dismissive manner. "Half the crime is mine and I will not let Baeron suffer on my behalf."

He took a deep breath, trying to calm something peculiar that woke in him at her prodding. It was not nice and pleasant and he would rather see it asleep. "Irulan," he tried again, but she cut him off:

"No. It is only 'just'! I will not crawl away from my mistakes!"

She crossed her arms in a stubborn manner and before he could control it, his reaction rolled off his tongue: "You seem very concerned for Baeron. He has gained your liking rather quickly!"

They looked at each other, both somewhat baffled by that sudden and bitter comment. A moment later Irulan just took a deep breath and resumed her cool pose. She did indeed feel protective of him. Certainly he was not the only guilty one here! Besides...the Sharing had brought her much closer to the elf. She could not help feeling defensive of him. "He is a likeable person," was the dry reply.

Legolas, who already regretted speaking the sentence, felt a punch landing on his stomach at her unexpected reaction. And the flame that was about to extinguish with his efforts only burst brighter at that. He fixed his eyes on her and something in his demeanor changed with frightening speed. "Is he now?" he said with a dangerous tone and Irulan swallowed, feeling suddenly uneasy. "Perhaps I am mistaken, Irulan, but you do not strike me as someone with a pledge to me." His gaze swept over her features in a frosty manner and Irulan, baffled at how fast his mood could change, remained unsure how to respond. "And I do not find myself in the position of someone to whom this pledge was made. Are there any more demands you wish to make of me?"

Now rather intimidated, Irulan released her arms and slowly lowered them. "No," she said weakly, "that's not what I meant." He watched her in piercing silence and she forced herself to continue: "But you said it would be unjust if-"

"I know what I said," he intervened. His eyes bore into hers, the jealousy burning like liquid fire through his veins. "Will you choose to stand beside Baeron at the price of going against my word?" Actually what he really wanted to ask was "Would you prefer Baeron over me?", but of course that would be most unwise. It was a close enough question, anyway.

She looked back at him for a long time. Surely she could not leave the other elf to his fate! That would be most terrible. But...she had a pledge to him. A most serious pledge and God knows she had not been acting accordingly. "No," she sighed finally. "I will do as you ask, Legolas." He remained unmoving and Irulan added: "I am sorry."

Unexpected for him, this brought no satisfaction whatsoever. He turned his head away, a bitterness spreading in his heart. "As I ask," he hissed almost inaudibly. "Not because you wish to, but because I ask."

Irulan did not know what to say to that, so she said nothing, watching his silent anger and agony. "I am sorry," she said again a moment later as he refused to look back and instead, chose to shut his eyes with a sigh and pinch his nose, remaining silent. "I just.....I just feel......" She did not finish, in fear that he would respond with anger again.

"You feel close to Baeron," he sighed bitterly.

"I…yes," was her reluctant reply.

She observed him nodding and dropping his hand. Still Legolas did not face her, but chose to look out to the dark hills. "It is because he Shared with you. You have a bond now." He swallowed softly, suppressing the frustration that came with that thought. The dread of that fact was sharp and raw. Nothing could break the bond of Sharing. For all times now, Irulan would feel it, as would Baeron. Very few experiences would rival it and other than the Bond of Love, nothing would ever exceed it. For someone whose lover had been 'snatched away' and tied with a bond 'behind his back' (to put it in human terms), Legolas would deem himself rather civilized. Though at this moment he would chop off the other elf's head if given the chance, thoughts were far from action and he could still pass as a rational man.

Irulan had to be blind, stupid and about 5 years old to miss the jealousy pulsing out of him. Thankfully she was none. "I have bonds with my family too," she said with haste. "And with my friends. I have a great bond with Anne!"

'Friends!' he thought and almost laughed out loud. The tart aftertaste of that word scratched his skull with sharp, nasty claws. He chose to lock eyes with her then, trying really hard to hide his pain but not very good at the disguise. "True."

"And I have a bond with you, Legolas," she said, not satisfied with his reply. Her hand found his again, but this time even that was not enough to lift his spirits like it used to do.

"Yes," he whispered, his blue eyes fixed on her, "the bond of the pledge."

Irulan blinked. "Of course not," she said with a low voice and watched momentary surprise floating over his expression. "I meant the bond of....of...." the word 'love' almost flew out of her mouth and it was only due to a miracle that Irulan managed to bite it down. Legolas looked at her for a long moment and she stared back, her heart beating like crazy at the realization that she had almost said 'love'.

Finally the elf smiled a disappointed smile and took a deep breath. He tore his gaze away again, simply because the agony was reaching unbearable degrees and it was becoming harder to resist it by the moment. The desire he felt for Irulan was downright amazing to him. Not to mention, highly disturbing.

Once again, his sadness did what nothing else could. To her own amazement, Irulan leaned closer and before she could think, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Instantly she thought herself both childish and foolish. 'I mean...what kind of modern adult from New York would kiss in this manner?!' she moaned mentally as a blush of embarrassment and frustration hit her cheeks.

She had no way of knowing, of course, that what she found embarrassing and naive (and rightfully so, too), Legolas only found astonishing and admirably attractive. Needless to say that no other woman had acted this shy towards him. Especially when he was the pursuer. To be honest, they had been more than willing to give in. He glided his fingers over her pinkish cheeks and just looked at her for a long moment and she stared back rather uneasily, thinking that she must have done something unbefitting or rude.

And then Legolas could not hold back if the world had stopped, time was reversed and Aragorn himself had appeared to tell him not to touch Irulan. He could not hold back if it meant absolute death to him. There was no struggle of will, the sign of resistance, the battle of opposites or the sound of reason. He moved like he had moved countless times in battle - with no thought, but pure and natural action.

One moment he was gazing down at Irulan and the fraction of a time after that, his lips claimed hers.

And then, everything was over.

One would think that a kiss is where it all begins - the story, the tale, the trouble, the road...This kiss was exactly where it all ended. The cacophony of sounds and the tumultuous noise that was life suddenly plateaud and halted. Silence came. One could never guess the degree of constant noise around us unless one has heard such silence. A gentle, soothing, calming silence. The final destination. The end of chaotic struggle. The last note in a symphony. The final stroke on a painting. The last glimpse of each other on a parting day. The ending word in a long, long novel.

The stillness that fell on his mind was like dusk falling on the hardest day. No matter what that day held now -and it held the agony, struggle, effort, work of thousands upon thousands of years- it was over. Rest was here. And never had he felt so much in need of rest. Of this incredible quiet. Of this fantastic immobility. Of this night that promised nothing but the view of stars and the lullaby of the wind in the trees. This limbo -the place between ending and a new beginning- was perfect beyond words and beautiful beyond description. It held the satisfaction of all former deeds and the promise and excitement of new, upcoming days. It was what 'Irulan' meant.

A memory came then. Soft and gentle was its approach. Like the warmth after flames had died, it was – an afterglow…a tender reminder…the echo of a whisper.

Once, countless ages ago, in a world that only breathed in the memory of so few now, Legolas had witnessed a most peculiar storm. It was on his return from a successful battle with the orcs that had broken through the borders of Mirkwood yet again - which was happening more and more in the last years. Him and his band of warriors had dispatched three days ago to ride to the border, tracking the creatures. Finally they had managed to corner them and a short but brutal encounter had erupted. He had lost many of his friends that day.

Victorious but tired, they had taken the road back home. The sky had darkened first and the elves had cast nervous glances upward, sensing the charge in the air. Some had climbed to the higher branches and had reported a mighty storm coming in. And yet they had traveled on, eager to reach the heart of the city for the wounded ones. A slight drizzle had begun as they had left the trees and stepped into a patch of the open. Making haste to another array of trees in the distance, they had climbed over small hills and back down. Until a terrible sound had echoed in the woods and Legolas had turned on his horse to behold the view behind him.

Never would the sight before him leave his memory. The wind had been whipping him as a heavy rain suddenly poured down, soaking his entire attire, streaming down his face and his hair. A gust of air and water had smashed against his cheeks and almost rolled him off his stallion. And then his gaze had beheld the swollen, menacing clouds up ahead, like some strange smoke that intended to swallow the world in whole. White streaks of lightning danced in their bellies, flashing with temper and impatience again and again. And strangest of all, the sunlit day, refusing to vanish even under such an attack, had prevailed in the background. Large streaks of golden sunlight were slashing the swollen black clouds again and again, sending down rays that were no less baffling and blinding in their brightness.

Legolas had remained, agape and carried away, watching the dance of darkness and light as the clouds chaotically and yet gracefully broke up again and again, sending a stream of golden light between their cracks, then hastily rushed to fill up their gaps, only to tear up somewhere else.

Now, when his lips found Irulans, out of nowhere and though not recalled for the longest time, that scenery suddenly hit him, exactly like the shower of rain had done, that day. There was nothing now to remind him of such a recollection - how could there be? And yet, the feeling he felt at that particular instant was, in its tone, hue and touch, exactly like the one that he had felt millennia ago. When he was another Legolas. When Irulan was only a name that would gain spirit and body after a long, long, long line of other names and bodies.

Shocked by his sentiments, he slowly pulled back -just a little bit- and opened his eyes to look down at her. Though they stood almost nose to nose, their lips inches apart, the distance seemed suddenly too great for him as the strangest of vacuums gaped open in him. He resisted the tendency to prolong the taste that he instantly seemed to miss and locked eyes with her, as Irulan stared back in equal shock and confusion. Her scent washed over him then, as well as her physical warmth and the heat of her breath.

A long moment passed. Long, even for an elf. The idea of moving away was replaced with the wish to remain. The option of letting go was overpowered by the desire to prevail the hold. The thought of parting was washed away with the urge to entwine. The longer the time, the stronger the desire to return to the taste and the storm. When he felt himself leaning in again -this time much slower, his gaze washing over her features- a curiosity as to whether it would feel the same or not, along with the need to relive the same sentiments flamed in him. A part of his mind took in her stance and her pose that said that  she was dazed beyond movement and seemed frozen, not able to push herself or him away. Perhaps she, too, was perceiving the same strange waves of mood. Or perhaps not. At that moment, Legolas did not care. Too tangled was his mind with his own confusing and curious discovery.

His lips found hers again, the kiss far more gentle and soft this time, as his eyes shut him off the world. And it felt...far better. It was liquid fire. It was cool water. It was the chilly morning dew on grass. It was the warmth of sunlight on the face. It was the heat of flames. The biting frost of ice. It was the humid touch of a lush, enclosed forest. And the brisk air of a late, lazy summer day. It was the pulsating warmth of a lover's hand. And the cool dread of its absence.

Legolas tilted his head the other way and immediately kissed her again, this time even slower but deeper. He could not decide which was more mind-blowing, more devastating, more breath-taking. So he kissed her again, from another angle and this time forcefully, his fingers grasping the roots of her hair, the rougher texture of it a comfortable feeling in his hand. Certainly this one was superior to all - this touch, this taste and this feeling! And yet...he tried another kiss - a gentle and seductive capturing of the lower lip and by the Valar, that was beyond any of the former ones! His hands cupped her face and another, more passionate one followed and the elf became certain that it was THE ultimate kiss. Though he changed his mind with the next one. And the one after that. And the one after that one.

His mind expanded from one horizon to the next, like the calm surface of water. He did not THINK at that moment. He only understood…many things at once.

***

"Do not go, Prince!" cautioned the figure beside him. He did not blink at his intrusion, looking down from the high wall of his mighty fortress. Though a speck of a person from here, Irulan was easy to pick out, standing alone and apart from her dark mass of troops, her feet slightly placed apart, her gaze turned up to him. Her hair was free, flowing in the ruffling breeze, the color a deep contrast to his silver one that shone like a troubled river today. Her white armor too, was the opposite of his black one. She wore metal, he wore soft tunic. She was human, he was elf. They were as different as two beings could be. And yet destined to be together.

"Do not go. She will slay you!"

He should listen, should he not? He should not leave the safety of his fortress. Not while that dark mass of troops was waiting behind her, as threatening as any army could be.

And yet, suddenly he was striding down the stairs of a tower, his feet making no sound, only the slight rustle and scraping of tunic and blades audible in the dusty silence of it. His fingers reached out and traced the rough pattern of stone bricks during his spiral descent that mirrored his spiral descent to an unfathomable darkness and uncertain turmoil perfectly. Cold felt the stone. As did everything else in this fortress. Colder than ice.

Moments later he was outside. The gloomy day revealed no sun, only a dull, bluish light and churning meager clouds in the heavens, dashed to and fro by the wind. Distantly he heard the creaking of the gigantic gates and his steps did not falter, though his ever loyal subject of Reason yelled from the wall for second thoughts, for wiser decisions, for rational moves. Irulan did not move as he walked up to her, in perfect opposition to everything that she was. Nor did any other move as time hung in limbo. No sound echoed in the battlefield and the wind was the only source of motion, playing with their hair and their attire.

When he finally stood before her, gazing down into her brown depths that held his blue fire evenly, the voice of his Reason was silenced too and nothing spoke, moved, breathed or shifted for a long time.

"I have come," she said finally, not looking away, and the simple words said everything there was to say. "Too long have you dwelt in these walls, my friend."

Legolas turned to look at his work that stood in fabulous perfection. Not a single brick too many, not a single tower too less. Straight and rigid, safe and strong. "Too long," he sighed absent-mindedly. A moment later he locked eyes once more and held her gaze for another moment. "Let us set the battlements on fire."

Irulan smiled then, her lips curving up in a mysterious fashion. "And..." she said with a low voice as she pulled out her bulky metal glove and held out her hand and the elf hesitated momentarily before he pulled off his suede glove and reached to grasp it. In this world of cool, cold, frosty, icy and chilly, her touch was the only warmth and devastating on his senses. "...never look back."

*****