Legolas sat erect in his chair, his eyes on the chair across from him, where Irulan was supposed to sit as representative of the King. Unwillingly, and for the fifth time, his eyes glided to the chair further to his left...the only other empty chair that belonged to Michael. Elizabeth, who occupied the seat next to it, entwined her hands on her lap and was stubbornly looking down at them. He tried to make eye contact with her before -the way she had stormed in was rather peculiar- but she avoided him as if avoiding the plague.

He knew that it was past twelve now. There was no clock in this room, but there was no need – all elven members had that biological clock ticking in them and right now it was giving them the signal that noontime had arrived and even passed a little. But none gave any indication of the missing couple. They were too well mannered for that. Instead they sat in leisure, relaxed silence, allowing the stillness to calm them for the upcoming subject.

This was very unlike Michael. And no doubt, very unlike Irulan. The minutes dragged by and none dared to break the silence. As his gaze was gliding back to the seat across the table one more time, the door opened and Michael slid in, followed by Irulan.

And Legolas wished they had never arrived, after all.

He barely kept himself from rising from his seat at the look on Irulan's face that spoke of a great torment along with a mighty blankness. This was not like her AT ALL. And this insecure gliding to the seat act was not like Michael AT ALL. Once again his elven mind spun and before he could blink, he knew what had happened. He just knew it. His head snapped to Elizabeth, and all his answers found confirmation at the slight tremble that traveled over her as Michael assumed his place and announced an apology with a low voice to the waiting members.

The darkness that fell on his mind and spirit defied description. It embedded its sharp claws into his flesh, refusing to be thrown off, tearing tissue and veins with each attempt. Legolas swallowed, his world beginning a slow but steady spin as the realization of his loss became more and more evident in his heart. It was pointless to fool oneself – the heir of Aragorn would not take his deed lightly. As if in confirmation he looked up at the right time to see Irulan's gaze locking with his. Her eyes spoke of nothing. Which meant everything.

He almost called the meeting off, then. The fate of Cate and Jonathan meant nothing to him at the moment. Neither did the Circle. He cared nothing for the world, to be honest. He was losing Irulan – everything else was very minor compared to that. He felt Haldir stirring beside him then and looked to see the same worries dancing across his face. Actually, almost all elven members in the Council carried a strange expression of understanding, and yet avoiding the understanding out of politeness and respect for privacy.

"Forgive me for the delay," she said suddenly and all thoughts about rising and ending the meeting suddenly flew away with that unexpected sound. Her voice was cold and distant – a perfect match for her eyes and he was certain that if he had tried, he would have been incapable of imagining Irulan like this. Unwillingly his muscles relaxed back into the seat – with defeat or with lack of strength, he did not know. "We can begin now."

All eyes turned to him, but he stared only into hers, still childishly hoping for a miracle – for a sign that said that he had misread things, that he was wrong and everything is all right. He stared at her for so long, that Irulan felt the need to nudge him. "Lord Legolas?" she said slowly, raising her eyebrows. That aided him in tearing his gaze away and Legolas took a deep breath, praying to the Valar that it would settle the chaos in his mind and in his heart. He nodded silently and swallowed before he spoke. No words had formed in his mind and yet, his mouth opened, his lips and his tongue moved and amazingly, words began to spill out.

"I open this meeting in hope that we will reach the best and just decision," he said, his voice even and balanced, his tone perfectly elven. He did not look back at Irulan, both out of fear and shame and she did not look back at him, out of sheer anger and frustration. The meeting began as their shadows sat and spoke, but their spirits dived into absolute torment and agony.

***

"We have seen what it does!" said Michael, his green eyes glancing around the table, carefully avoiding those of Legolas. It was obvious that many were not too fond of him today. He and all present elves had no doubt that this was his last meeting. But he was ready to fight till the end. "This has been repeated too many times! How much more before we see what conflict and pain it represents?"

"For you or for the subjects?" Irulan said suddenly and everyone was caught off-guard at that. It was her first meeting and though she had not taken her official place in the Circle, as his representative, she could speak on Aragorn's behalf any time she wanted to. And to be honest, she was as unusual as all the pre-occupants of that status had been: very passionate, and yet reserved. Patient but threatening. Laid back but determined. In short, Irulan showed all the traits that none had seen her show before – including herself. She had not said a single word since the beginning of the meeting and had remained eerily closed to the discussions. However, now that she had finally decided to speak, her voice said it all.

"What do you mean?" Michael finally managed to say in a frosty tone, once again regaining his cool.

"I mean," Irulan seethed, giving him a sidelong glance and leaning her elbows on the table, "exactly what I said. For whom is that pain and conflict, Michael?"

A short silence stretched as he glared back at her. "For the couple, of course."

"And how," she said then, almost in a lazy fashion, "would YOU know?"

The man just blinked in confusion and surprise and Irulan looked at him as if she meant to get up, walk around the table and choke him to death. "We all know," he began cautiously after a thick silence, "that the gift of immortality comes with a heavy price, King-daughter." He swallowed, very annoyed at the necessity of using that phrase for her, then continued calmer, "Cate will suffer much from this. And therefore, so will Analoth..."

"Tell me of this suffering," she cut him off, waving her hand dismissively.

A long duel of looks began as all other members sat back and observed with patient curiosity. "Are you serious?" he said finally, laughing nervously and glancing at the others to confirm his thoughts concerning how ridiculous this whole thing was.

Irulan's gaze cut his laughter immediately. "Define suffering," she repeated, this time with a dangerous edge to it. Michael threw one last glance around, but failing to find aid, turned back to her. He shifted in his seat with unease, then folded his hands on the table and began with a tone that seemed like one he would use when explaining the facts of the world to a child.

"She will most probably loose her mind. Her sanity. She will not be able to adapt to the way of the immortals and her spirit will break, giving much torment both to her and to Analoth. She will confuse reality with illusion, then..."

"Enough," she said dismissively. The man pursed his mouth into a thin line, betraying his anger at being forced to act at her whim. Irulan, it seems, was very determined to use the advantage of her position above him.

He was right in guessing this, for she was indeed enjoying herself immensely. No elf would act this rude. But then...she was only human. And well...humans had a right to be rude, no? She suppressed a grin at that thought and continued. "Now tell me of the suffering they will go through if she is not granted this wish."

That question caught everyone off-guard and she ignored the heads snapping around to glance at her. No words were spoken for a while and Irulan kept her eyes stubbornly on the man of her duel, ignoring everyone else. This day, she was surprising herself in almost any and every fashion, it seems. This woman who was using her body and her vocal cords...who was she? Irulan knew with certainty that she hated public speeches. That she felt overexposed even in conference staff meetings. And no doubt that she hated to discuss any issue with morons. But the woman that was sitting in her seat seemed to defy all of that. She was neither intimidated, nor nervous. She was not embarrassed, anxious or worried. She knew exactly what she wanted to happen in this meeting and by the looks of it, would do anything to achieve it.

Michael, completely speechless and finally realizing that with the passing minute had proved his state openly to the whole Council, pursed his lips once more and gave her a look that spoke of pure hatred. Irulan gazed back with a blankness that would make elves jealous. "Your silence can only mean one of two things: One...you have never loved. Or two...you have never lost one that you loved. Which one is it, Michael?"

The reaction that followed would defy a description. Words would simply fail to capture it. A wave ran through the Circle, almost from one end to the other. The most sentimental human members reflected it openly by a gasp, while the more controlled ones, and the elves, showed it merely with a surprised or shocked expression. Her eyes instinctively followed it, gliding over amusement, awe, victory, defeat, anger, glee, envy and support. Her eyes locked on to the blue gaze of Legolas, who had assumed a far more relaxed and controlled pose that made him lean a shoulder on the back of his chair, his head slightly cocked, a slender smile on his perfect lips.

A very strange thing happened, then. She read such pride, love and support in his eyes that at that moment, for an instant, Irulan forgot what he had done. Her lips claimed freedom, curling into a smile in reply and her eyes refused to give him a furious glare. An incredible exchange took place between them just then and it was too swift and subtle for any other to recognize.

Irulan had accomplished many things in her own way and standards. Some of those lost their value in time and slipped from her mind. Some still shone with glamour and spark. Moments that had invoked understanding in others. Or consent. Or simply support and joy. Moments she had said or done something and others had been moved by it. Or had been driven to thought by it. And maybe –just maybe- changed for the better by it. And each made her proud. But now, with the look in the eyes of this man, whose opinion of her meant so much more than any other's, all her former accomplishments sank into the depths of unimportance. Legolas was proud of her! Nothing...NOTHING would ever exceed this. Never.

His smile grew broader and his eyes spoke of such love and adoration that she became suddenly self-conscious and cast her gaze down, her concentration faltering. The sentimental Irulan in the back of her mind stirred, invoked by that gaze and incapable of remaining in disinterest to it. The other Irulan fought to regain her control and return to the present.

In her attempt to do so, she began to speak swiftly once more. "Honored members of the Council...if there is any among you, who shares the same state of Michael, let him or her come forward."

The silence in the chamber spoke of her absolute victory. Irulan looked up, glancing around. Her face resumed its professional blankness and her tone was very soft but matter-of-fact. "Elves and humans," she said slowly, her eyes still looking from one to the other, "man or woman...we share but the same world and the same burdens." A momentary silence came as she took a deep breath, inspecting the dark surface of the table before her.

Suddenly Legolas' gentle but steely voice ran in the chamber, making heads swivel in his direction. "King-daughter is proof that wisdom has nothing to do with age. In fact..." he continued, leaning further on the table and giving Irulan –who was still fixed on the table- a long look, "she has proven this to me many times in these past days." A silence continued as he looked away for a moment and then locked eyes with each member. "I have voted against it every time in the past. I know now that it was because I had never tasted true love. It was a word for me. A concept of grave but fabled importance, nothing more. It was my lack of understanding, not my wisdom that made me assume that side of the argument."

The silence that followed reflected both surprise and yet sorrow. He leaned back, his eyes grazing over the council and lingering on Irulan who was still fixed on the table, a small and sad smile on her lips. That smile was like a dagger to his heart. "If there is anyone who has loved truly..." he began, his voice raw and his eyes focused on her. Irulan refused to meet his gaze and the other elves respectfully glanced away as well, "...he or she will know that all other pain is bearable in the face of the loss of that love. If he or she thinks otherwise, it was not true love and this person's opinion can hold no value in a matter such as this. In either case, we reach the same conclusion." She glanced up and met his eyes then. This day they had fought together and won a big victory. And underneath it all, there was their personal defeat, obvious and undeniable for both.

"But...just a minute," said Michael then, alarmed, "surely this is not the end of the meeting! Surely there are those who disagree?" His head turned from one end of the table to the other and back, the red hue on his face priceless to many present. "Honored members! I think..."

"I vote in favor," sang Legolas' steely voice through the room, rendering Michael completely speechless. The blue eyes left Irulan and found his. They held the promise of immense torture once the meeting was over, but in his bafflement, the man saw none of it.

"Lord Legolas!" exclaimed Haldir with mock surprise and protest, "You took the words right out of my mouth!" He grinned at Irulan and she grinned back.

"I must agree," drawled an amused Maneth. "I think the deduction of King-daughter is very clear and strong."

"No doubt about it," said Irene, twinkles in her eyes as she regarded Irulan. "I, too, vote in favor of her argument."

"You have convinced me as well, daughter of Aragorn," smiled Ednon and nodded his approval.

"We are proud to have you here with us today. Our argument has never been spoken in better words," said Omar.

"I, too, vote for you, Irulan," spoke Elizabeth then and her first words of the day send a shock through Michael who was sitting right next to her. She turned and met his gaze evenly, smiling a perfect smile to him.

So all others nodded and bowed and spoke their agreement. Irulan smiled at all of them, and finally when none other than Michael was left, she turned to fix him with her eyes once more. "I would ask where your vote falls," she said slowly, folding her hands on the table and leaning slightly on it in a leisure fashion, "but at this point, it really doesn't matter much." Her eyes dismissed his red face immediately and she turned to Cate and Jonathan, who seemed to be dead and in Heaven. A small smile bloomed on her face, against all odds. The couple bowed their heads in unison as Analoth brought his fist to his heart in a gesture of appreciation. Irulan smiled broader and bowed her head as well. "Congratulations," she said gently and the table broke into similar words of congratulations and well wishes and future hopes.

She inhaled gently and swallowed. A mighty load left her shoulders and diluted into nothing. Until this moment, she had not realized how much pressure this whole thing had been exerting on her. And now that she had come, spoken and won, suddenly it seemed an easy task. What was the whole deal about, anyway? A part of her was rather capable at these things, it seemed, and all her tension as to what she would do facing a group like the Circle, dissolved into a silly fear.

Right in the middle of that satisfaction her gaze collided with Legolas' once more. Amongst all the gentle support and soft expressions of happiness on the behalf of the couple, he stood like a statue, fixed on her. Irulan felt another bolt of fury burying itself into her. She slowly rose to her feet and Legolas imitated her, posed in alarm. Without excusing herself, she walked around the table and did not bother to give him a second look before exiting the room. The elf remained behind, his gaze falling on the surface of the table once more. It was as black as the frustration that sank onto his heart. The members of the Circle had of course witnessed this and were even now witness to his agony. But out of respect and politeness, overlooked it completely, one by one excusing themselves from the meeting and exiting as well.

Minutes went by and everyone, except Michael, Elizabeth, Haldir and Legolas left. An incredible silence settled into the room and finally Legolas, who was still on his feet, shifted and turned to lock eyes with the man, sitting with his hands entwined on the table. Elizabeth had begun to cry silently, her figure shaking ever so softly. This woke no mercy on behalf of Legolas whatsoever at this moment. "I must admit that you are bold, Michael," he said finally, his voice dead and cold. "The retribution for your act would have discouraged any other."

"Believe it or not, I was not the one to convey it. I arrived just in time when Elizabeth here was speaking to Irulan." The woman's head snapped up as she looked at the man beside her with disbelief, her mouth open, her normally beautiful face all flushed and swollen. Michael did not return the look and kept his eyes on the elf. "The cat was already out of the bag. I tried to convince Irulan not to dwell on it. But she forced me to tell the whole story." He finished his statement with a shrug.

Legolas' eyes danced to the woman who was still looking at Michael with deep shock. "Is that true, Elizabeth?" he said, his voice like a sharp knife. She flinched and her head snapped around at him, evident fear in her navy eyes. No answer came. "Is it?!" he hissed, his blue eyes boring into her.

"I....I...my lord..." she stammered and broke into sobs again.

"Answer me!" Legolas roared, his elven voice echoing through the chamber making Elizabeth cry harder.

"It is!" she yelped, sobbing openly like a little child now. "But I thought...I thought..."

"You see, my lord," cut in Michael smoothly, "the jealousy of women is a dangerous thing. Elizabeth always liked you. This idea of you and Irulan...drove her into needless hateful actions. Not forgivable, of course, but very understandable."

The woman just covered her face and cried harder, all hope lost to her. She did not have the strength or the will to debate with Michael now. Her mind was not functioning, her heart was beating furiously with fear and between these elements, Elizabeth gave in to defeat.

Legolas shifted to clasp his hands behind his back and push his chin up, giving Michael a long look. "For millennia I have fought for your kind, Michael," he said, his voice calm but cold. "Never have I regretted it. Against all the foulness that it can show, my actions did not falter. Nor will they falter from now on." He leaned on the table and suddenly incredible threat and danger pulsed out of him, making both mortals gasp and lean back in unease. "You played your part in this game perfectly. Perfect – with the assumption that I am blind and senile. But..." and his eyes literally blazed as the man slowly got up from his chair, his face pale and his hands shaking, "...I am neither. I assure you, you will feel enough regret for the both of us, Michael."

Legolas did not move but nevertheless, the danger he was posing became larger and larger and the man took a hasty step away from the table, now shaking visibly. Elizabeth had stopped crying and her face betrayed deep shock as she stood fixed on Legolas, her mouth open, her eyes bulging out of her visage.

Haldir chose this moment to stand up as well and place a hand on his friend's shoulder, even though it was a dangerous thing to do. "And so it shall be, Legolas," he said gently, trying to divert the elf's gaze to himself. "I will take care of it. Do not waste time here."

The Prince clenched his jaw and the atmosphere in the room became incredibly tense as he refused to look away from Michael who had taken another step back. A moment passed. Then another. His eyes left the pathetic man and the gaze of the elves locked, giving Michael and Elizabeth room to breathe once more. Ignorance is a bliss. For if they had come face to face with this kind of power before, none would have dared to go against the world of an elf. Seeing them so often and dealing with them in many things often blinded the Circle members to the true nature of the Firstborn and how dangerous they could be if they chose. "Go, Legolas," Haldir whispered, not blinking as his friend continued his stare for several moments. Until the words sank in and he tore his gaze away, focusing on the table again.

"Can I trust you with this?" he said, not diverting his eyes.

"Absolutely," said Haldir and threw the woman and the man a short glare. "If anything, you will find my punishment too severe, I promise you."

Legolas nodded and without looking back, strode out the room. Haldir crossed his arms on his chest then and lazily assumed his seat, his cold blue eyes wandering over Michael. "Sit, Michael," he said loftily. The man did not respond. "Now," growled the elf and if such a thing was possible, his eyes became deadlier than those of the Prince in an instant. The man, very much like a puppet, drifted to his chair and sank into it, his face as white as Elizabeth's. "It will be a long day for you," Haldir drawled, very determined to keep his promise to the Prince. "And I do not want you to collapse with exhaustion until I am done with you."

***

There was a knock on the door. Irulan ignored it. Another knock came. "Irulan, please open the door," came his pleading voice. To her own amazement, it woke nothing in her. The voice that had whispered such praises to her. And such comforting wisdom. But also the voice that had lied to her. Over and over again.

The knock was repeated. She did not give it heed, and a moment later the door broke in with a mighty cracking sound and Legolas walked in. She gave him an awed look, then at the door that hung at its hinges, then back at him. They stared at each other for a moment, blue locking into brown, will locking into will. Then she just turned away with disinterest, continuing her task.

"What are you doing?" he said with perfect horror, his looks glued to the sweater she was about to stuff into the suitcase that was standing on the couch. It was a silly question – since Legolas was very aware what she was doing. She pretended not to hear him and placing her hair behind her ear, found a t-shirt to tuck in next. "Irulan...please...listen to me," he managed to say finally, taking the last steps to stand behind her.

She turned to him, very calm and cold. "Yes, Legolas?" He swallowed softly, his mind a frenzy. 'I will kill Michael,' he thought silently. 'I will kill him anyway. Just for the pleasure of it.'

"You must forgive me," he whispered, the dread going into full bloom in his mind. "You must..." She was surprised when the slap actually landed on his cheek. It would have never happened to someone like Legolas, for he would have seen it coming miles away. He had, of course, seen it and not stopped her, taking the sharp blow. She swallowed softly, many sentiments flying through her at the same time. The ridiculous regret of having hurt him. The greed to hurt him further. The need to run into his arms and cry her eyes out. The determination of NEVER touching him again.

He turned and looked at her, and contrary to her expectation, it was not a blank face but an expression of deep sorrow that adorned his features. "I deserved far more than that," he whispered. To her own amazement she placed a second slap on the same cheek and it was harder than the first time. Legolas did not look at her this time, keeping his gaze down. It was his first slap in his entire life and he could not imagine himself allowing such a thing to anyone else. Anyone else who would have attempted to slap him would not only have failed, but that person would be in the middle of a grave physical punishment at this point.

She remained shocked and at the same time very much relaxed, observing the pink color spreading on his perfectly smooth skin, then swirling and diminishing in much shorter time than it did in humans. When he locked eyes with her again, the residue had almost completely vanished from his cheek, but was evident in his eyes. He said nothing.

"I will not tire myself further," she said then, her voice frosty as can be, and turned to walk away again. To her amazement, he materialized right before her, blocking her path. Irulan blinked momentarily, her surprise at the speed of the movement overshadowing all else.

"I was saying," he began calmly, "that you must understand what pushed me to such an action."

She moaned and turned away in disinterest, grasping another clothing piece from the armchair on which everything seemed to be spilled, and stuffing it into her suitcase. Her hand went out to a pair of jeans, but before she could grasp those, he tore it away from her, throwing it into the corner of the room. "Stop it, Legolas!"

She threw a sweater into the suitcase and he snatched it out and threw it right next to the jeans an instant later. "You are not leaving," he said, as calm as ever.

"Watch me," Irulan seethed and seemingly unaffected by his attitude, continued picking up articles and throwing them into her case. The elf observed her in silence for a moment, then calmly grasped the suitcase and with the ease of throwing a baseball, threw it into the same corner.

Feeling overly frustrated and annoyed, Irulan swung her hand for another slap and with lightning speed he caught it. She bore her eyes into him, fury dancing in them. Legolas slowly raised her hand and kissed her palm, never breaking eye contact even once. Irulan felt the faintest of flames kindling in her at the feel of his lips on her skin, but hastily pushed it away. She harshly pulled her hand back and he let go - mainly so that she would not end up hurting herself by pulling her arm out of her socket. With a final glare, Irulan marched to the corner that held her suitcase and began to pick it up. It was damn heavy and it required some good acting on her behalf to pretend being unaffected by the weight while lifting it up.

Legolas was before her once more and she almost bumped into him. "Allow me to help," he said softly and before she could utter a protest the suitcase was torn from her hands and gracefully thrown out the open window.

This time her mouth DID drop open as she watched her clothes make a graceful and soft descent on the lawn. Out of sheer shock she ran to the window and saw the articles scattered all over the lawn. Two servants glanced curiously up and found her staring back at them. Turning red with anger and shame Irulan turned around to the utterly calm and composed Legolas. "Greenleaf!" she yelled, despite herself while he gave no indication of hearing at all. "You...you..."

Finding no words to express her fury, Irulan marched by him into the adjoining room where the rest of her stuff and her bag stood. She was literally seeing the world red and she did not know if she was more angry or helpless. The fact that nothing stood between her and this creature other than his control and manners blinked in her mind. Legolas could do anything he wanted and there was no way she could stop him. He followed, his eyes glued to her. Now feeling more afraid than angry, she took a step back. Then another and then her back ran into the console with the large mirror.

The elf did not move until then, and when she finally came to a silent stop and seemed to be in a state to listen to what he had to say, he took a deep, tired breath and exhaled, his gaze wandering around the scattered articles in the bedroom. "What I did was foolish," was his solemn and matter-of-fact statement that betrayed nothing of their battle merely moments ago - he spoke as if they had just begun to speak. "Nothing can undo it now. I regret it with all my heart, but I do not have the means to change it." Irulan pushed up her chin and gave him a sour and cool look. He took a slow step into the room, his eyes fixed on her. "Allow me to explain," he whispered with urgency.

She shrugged nervously, intimidated by his persistence and his overpowering strength. "Explain," she managed to choke out, crossing her arms on her chest with disinterest and trying to look as unafraid as possible, but probably failing.

Legolas swallowed softly, his eyes gaining another shade of pain. "It is true. I have engaged in a test." He halted. This sounded terrible! Now that he spoke it, it sounded unforgivable. He only hoped that Irulan did not share his view. "I thought...I had lost hope. In the world. In humanity. Even in Estel," he finished with a whisper. She looked away, pursing her lips. "The world has changed. I thought..."

A momentary silence. Irulan cut in. "So you thought you should play with me like a cat plays with a mouse." Her tone was as blank as his expression used to be. And that did not become her at all.

"No!" he hissed. Unconsciously his fingers rolled into fists under her sheepish look. "Yes, I meant to test you. And yes, I WANTED you to fail. But I never played with you."

The look in her eyes gained incredible anger and not knowing what else to do, she grasped a shirt that had been lying on the console and threw it onto the bed with fury. "Enough, Legolas! Please, spare us at least this embarrassment!"

His eyes followed her irrational deed, a slight confusion in them, then found hers and returned to the present argument. "You must understand that-"

"I understand one thing..." she hissed, taking a step towards him, "...I understand that you almost went insane because I made up a David. Something that did no harm to anyone! And I am supposed to sit back and applaud you when you decide that I should be your next subject of amusement! Yes, THAT I understand." She was heaving now and the sad look in his blue eyes did not make it any less. At all. "I also understand that I was a foolish, foolish human, Legolas. Stupid and weak. And that you were the smart one. The strong one. The ever-knowing one." Her brown eyes spoke of incredible fire, but Legolas held it evenly. "I understand, yes. I wish I had done so, earlier."

With that, she spun around and advanced on the console, opening the drawers to pull out things she had not packed yet. Legolas took another deep breath. At this point, he felt as if he were dealing with a child. For someone of his age and inexperience in the matter of raising children, it was very frustrating to say the least. " I have never lied to you," he said both with determination and gentleness. "I made a mistake - I should have told you a long time ago."

"But I suppose then you couldn't have enjoyed my silly pledge, Legolas!" she spat back.

He swallowed hard. "I never took advantage of that, Irulan."

"And I am very grateful," she said in mock admiration. "However," -and her tone grew tangibly bitter again- "now I must go!"

"You cannot leave," was his final statement and the tone was so calm that Irulan actually felt a certain fear and turned to lock eyes with him.

"I can do whatever I want, Greenleaf!"

He took a step towards her. "You will NOT leave," he said, the tinge of command ringing in his tone.

"You can not keep me here."

"I can," he said a long moment later and her eyes grew wide. "And I will. Forgive me, I cannot let you go."

"What?!" Legolas just stared back at her with utter calmness. "Are you insane?! This is not your Mirkwood palace! You cannot force me so!"

"I know that it is most unbecoming, yes. But all aside, the Sharing is too new. You are my responsibility now and I will not let you walk into danger. So I must do whatever it takes to keep you."

She just stared at him, agape. True, the after-shock of the Sharing was very nasty. And no doubt that it would come to her if she left the company of elves. But the fury of her line was not a lightly thing. At this moment Irulan did not care if both Joan of Arc and Arwen came to haunt her forever. Her expression gained an even frostier edge to it. NO ONE would imprison her. "There is the law and-"

"Your laws do not bind me," was his dismissive interruption.

"Legolas! You can't force me to stay! What good will come of that?"

He took a deep breath and looked away for a moment. "You will stay until I have begged enough for you to forgive me, Irulan. You are furious now...and confused. It will pass, my heart, and you will see that my deed is terrible, but not unforgivable." Their eyes locked and he took another step. "I will do ANYTHING," he whispered in urgency.

"No." Her answer was flat and blank. "I don't care what it will do to me. I need to leave. Leave you." She waved her arm, including the room. "This place. This life. I need to step back and re-think everything."

His breath caught with that suggestion. A moment passed between them and unknown to each other, each thought how their gentle and precious love had changed into this...terrible, ugly thing. "You may not care. But I do," was his final, almost inaudible statement. "Though it may mean to taste the cut of your fury, I will not step back on this. You will remain." He took a deep sigh, frowning and looking away as well. "I was stupid, yes. I was selfish. I deny neither. But all my feelings for you were sincere."

There are times and moments in life when you know that you are making a mistake. You simply KNOW. You know that you should never engage in this or that action and the dark foreboding of the outcome is clear before your usually clouded eyes. And yet, you do it anyway. Perhaps it is divine intervention. Maybe it's the Powers above freezing the moment and saying, "There is yet time to turn away from that action, that utterance. There is yet time to undo what should never be done. And the choice is right here. Right now. We even give you a warning. Yet...if you choose to do it anyway...there will be no one left to blame but your own sorry self."

And most of the time, you do it anyway.

This story -as every other story, actually- is a collection of such mistakes and their consequences. If Legolas had stepped back from his elven dominance -which, by the way, is understandable for someone of his race, age and status- and given Irulan the option...even the ILLUSION of an option, everything would have taken a completely different direction. Perhaps she would not have stayed, but her parting would have been in a different spirit and her love and longing for Legolas would have overcome her doubts about the whole affair in a short time.

As it was, all Irulan felt was the incredible torment of being backed into a corner. All her life she had been independent. She was coming from a long line of independent people. And this day, a man told her that she could not do this or that, and that she would obey – whether she liked it or not. He might be right. He might be doing it with the best intentions. But this moment, it made no difference at all. Any doubts that she had about what was wrong with this whole affair -more than the fact of the mistrust she felt for Legolas the Manipulator at this point- grew threefold at his attitude.

Her decision after that was surprisingly easy.

She sighed in frustration and turned back to the console, leaning on it. An interlude of silence found its way between them once more and Legolas did not dare to break it, remaining on his spot and battling his own inner demons. The demons that spoke of his rudeness at such a decision. And elf imprisoning a woman! Whoever heard of such a thing! It was disgusting. It was simply an unforgivable sin. A true weakness. And yet...the idea of losing Irulan was so horrible, that he was ready to walk into this shame and let it cover him entirely. "I know that you would not lie about that," was her final, slow reply.

"Then you must believe that I love you!" he said with urgency, stepping closer still. "That I value you beyond anything!"

"Yes I do," Irulan said with a tired voice and massaged her face as she turned around to lean on the console, crossing her arms on her chest once more.

"Irulan...what we have come to share is not a thing to be thrown away leisurely. I know for I have lived long enough to see that." He took a cautious step towards her, his eyes seeking hers. "I cannot live without you," he whispered, swallowing softly. "I beg you...do not desert me so. Every word I uttered this day was real. Will you deny us what we have granted Cate and Analoth?" he said, his eyes holding her absolutely. "Love justifies everything," he whispered suddenly, his blue eyes blazing as he cautiously stepped even closer, now only an arm's length from her. "You once said so. It does not excuse my actions, yes, but it explains them."

"Love justifies everything," she repeated as he slowly and carefully placed his hand on her shoulder. He deftly exhaled in relief when she did not pull away. "But...is love enough, Legolas?" He remained baffled for a moment or two as their eyes locked. He did not know what to say. He did not even know if he was capable of saying anything. The pain in him built up to incredible degrees and the elf remained focused on her, his grasp on her shoulder unconsciously growing.

'How about trust?' she wanted to say. 'What is love without trust?' The memory of their conversation in the misty hills of Europe came to her. The moment he had pleaded for her to trust him. And how he had said that her trust would be his guide. As he would be hers. Irulan swallowed, for the first time in hours the threat of tears ringing in her. "I need time," she said a long moment later, turning her back to him as the mirror on the console reflected her profile with her head cast down. 

"I understand," he whispered, gliding to stand behind her as he placed his other hand on her shoulder as well.

"This whole thing...happened too fast. I did not get the chance to think at all. I need to think."

"Yes, you are right." His hands glided down to her waist, embracing her very loosely and cautiously as he dared a lingering, soft kiss on her temple. His heart exploded with joy when she did not move away. Legolas closed his eyes and embraced her a little stronger. A short silence passed between them as they stood in the bright and silent room, the warmth of their bodies mingling and making the elf desire for more. "I dare not let you go. Stay here," he whispered then, combing through her hair lazily while his other hand kept the embrace. Irulan pursed her lips and chose not to answer. "Stay and I will not interfere with your ways. This castle is big enough for the both of us," he grew more hopeful when she remained reluctant and pressed on. "You can stay in the western wing and choose not to see me at all."

"Why can't I leave?" she said then, but her hand rested on the arm that was encircling her and that action numbed the reaction to that question.

"If we had not Shared so recently, I would only ask the promise of your return and let you go," he sighed, placing another kiss on her temple.

"I cannot promise such a thing," Irulan said a long moment later and Legolas froze momentarily. "Therefore I will stay," she added, hoping that the haste in her voice was not too obvious. It apparently wasn't, because the elf relaxed quite a bit behind her and proved it with a final, strong embrace during which he placed his head on the back of hers.

"Thank you, Irulan," he said finally, pulling back reluctantly as she turned to look up at him. "You will not regret it, I promise."

Irulan smiled a broken smile and they both remained in that state for a moment. A moment after that she rose on her toes and embraced his shoulders. Legolas, caught rather off-guard by that, only managed to embrace her back. "Thank you, too. For everything." His shock only deepened when Irulan kissed him swiftly, tentatively gliding her tongue over his lips. If the joy and relief of the moment had not been blurring his keen sense of observation, he would have recognized a kiss of goodbye right there and then. But in his ruined and wounded state, all he felt at the touch of her lips was pure bliss. He embraced her stronger and kissed her back, his lips speaking of gratefulness and glee and desperation at the same time. All his anger, all his pain, regret and alarm was washed away and the most incredible feeling lingered behind - hope.

For many moments he kissed her hungrily and Irulan complied with gentle understanding. Even when Legolas placed urgent kisses on her cheeks and her neck, speaking words of love and gratefulness, she remained pliable and smiling. Finally, after a last and far more gentle kiss on her lips Irulan broke away and remained, her eyes cast down.

He sighed and understood that his time was over for now. He took a respectful step back, his eyes still on her. "I will go and have them prepare the western wing for you," he said with a hoarse voice. The sorrow in his tone was replaced by incredible joy and he smiled brightly when Irulan nodded in silence. Another moment passed as he nodded back, and then Legolas strode out, the smile on his face refusing to disappear as he took silent and large steps down the hall, then ran down the stairs.

Irulan waited a long moment, then walked to the door and peered out. She sighed in relief at his absence. Then she gave the broken door another look and finally walked back to her location by the bed. She did not stop there, though, and took another two steps that brought her to the mirror and the stand with all the open drawers and the scattered items on top. Her fingers glided to the silver spark she had seen underneath the sweater a few minutes ago and she fished out the keys to the rented car that everybody else, including herself, had forgotten about until moments earlier.

She took a deep breath and unconsciously her eyes glided to the mirror, locking onto her own brown orbs. "Remain, Irulan," she said and it looked as if the reflection itself had spoken. 'Remain. Mistakes are made and unmade. Such a thing is not enough to destroy what you have.'

Indeed, it was not. For anyone else other than Aragorn's heir it was but a silly thing, soon to be forgotten. But not for her. For if anything was evident in her as well as the rest of her line, it was that damnable, blind, fiery pride. The pride that roared like a mighty flame whenever she thought back on how much of a fool she was made to look like all of this time.

She sighed and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose and inhaling softly. In her heart, Irulan knew that all her heroic resistance was foolish. She loved Legolas, no matter what. She knew of his regret, as well as the sincerity of his heart. But Anne was right – he had manipulated her. Even now, he was manipulating her. Ruling her, just like he had ruled kingdoms. She might have conquered his heart, but he had invaded her life. She would never be the Irulan she had been. Never again would she have a say over her own life like she used to. Perhaps most women would not mind that because of what they received in exchange. But not Irulan. For she was forever the daughter of a King. And a warrior at heart.

"All I need is...time," she sighed. "Time and solitude. I need to think. I...need to think." It was only true. No one should be expected to change in a matter of days and walk into unknown territory with nothing but the word of a man. Not to mention, the word of a man who had played with her! Hastily she suppressed the thought, lest it pushed her in another episode of blinding fury. "I need to distance myself and think what the hell I am doing!" Yes. Legolas did not understand. In his own panic and alarm, he was ready to walk over everything and everyone –including Irulan herself- to keep her. Like any other man! 'How typical!' she thought in frustration. "He does not understand. Fine. He does not NEED to understand. For I answer no one. No Prince and no Lord!"

Here she was, the same Irulan who had gained so many and so much just days ago, and lost them all in a matter of hours. Who had lost even further than what she had gained. For now she was utterly alone. With no friends. No lover. No support whatsoever. "Haldir, Anne, Legolas...all, all of them. They all deceived me! Played me behind my back." A terrible dread came over her as the sting of betrayal sunk deeper and deeper, like dark purple poison swirling in a glass of water. "Everyone I loved, has betrayed me," she mumbled, feeling tears stinging in her eyes.

"Not everyone," soothed her inner voice then and she blinked at the intrusion. "Not everyone has, Irulan. There are those that have been brutally open and honest with you at all times."

A slow but steady understanding sank onto her then as she stared at her reflection and her reflection stared back at her. A moment later she grabbed her jacket, checking its pockets. She threw it away when they proved to be empty. Her jeans followed next. And then the cotton pants and...voila...she fished out a crumbled napkin, folded over and over again. A breath of relief and victory was taken and Irulan felt as if she had found hope amongst the ruins of destruction once more. Baeron! Suddenly the tender pull of their bond became much more evident. A bond that would never break – not with time, nor with hardship. She placed it hastily into her bag along with her now fully charged cell phone.

A knock at the door made her jump up, her heart beating furiously. "Miss Irulan?"

"Yes? I'm in the bedroom," she said with a shaky voice. A servant glided in and, trying very hard not to stare at the chaotic state of both chambers, he slightly bowed to her.

"I believe this is yours," he said politely, putting the suitcase on the floor. It was shut but looked like it held all her scattered articles. He gave her a long, blank look that spoke of suppressed curiosity. No doubt that this was a first in this castle.

"Yes. Thank you," was the sole reply. He nodded and exited, leaving the broken door open of course. Only then did Irulan exhale in relaxation and grabbed the suitcase, dragging it onto the bed. She was about to stuff it full once more, when she halted and remained with the clothes in her hands, staring down at it. Suddenly a grin spread over her lips. "I don't need these things," she said leisurely. Funny, but Legolas had been right - the feeling of freedom and comfort that overcame her with that realization was amazing. She glanced one last time at the room, then put on a jacket, stuffed the contents of her bag into the pockets, throwing the bag itself on the bed, and walked out. On her way she met servants who eyed her warily. It was easy to see that they had already been warned not to let her leave. With satisfaction she saw them taking an overall look at her, then look away, persuaded that she was not leaving – since she had no suitcase and not even a bag with her.

Irulan stepped out into the backyard just at the entrance met another servant. He gave her a hasty overall look, then somewhat relieved, asked: "Miss...are you lost?"

"Oh no," she said, smiling gorgeously. "I want to take a walk. I have not been in this garden before." Her eyes swept over the beautiful garden and to the right, where the parking lot was and where her rented car was gleaming dully under the bluish light of the day. Keeping total disinterest on her face she frowned and looked over to the dense forest bordering the garden. "Is there a path that leads into the woods?"

He smiled in understanding. "There is one right there!" He pointed towards the right. "Keep to your right and you'll come out close enough to the castle. It is a wonderful walk through there."

"Yes, so it must be," she said, looking him in the eye. "When is the afternoon tea to be served?" she asked to further numb his suspicion.

He hastily looked at his watch. "In about an hour, miss."

"Very well," grinned Irulan, "I shall be back by then." The man smiled and bowed lightly, then entered the house while she briskly began to walk to the path that happened to be in the same direction with the parking lot. She glanced a final time around her to be certain that no one else was in sight, then hastily ran up the last steps to the car and stepped in. Her heart was beating ferociously and to her demise, her fingers were shaking. But thankfully she managed to stick in the key and turn on the ignition right away. The sound seemed awfully loud in this silence, but she knew that it was only in her mind, for no one else would get suspicious about such a thing.

She drew out of the parkway and with a final glance towards the castle, drove off and away. She never looked back.

***

At the airport she threw worried glances around, afraid that Legolas had found out and ordered his chopper, making it here before her. 'Don't be stupid! A helicopter has to be requested ahead. He can't snap his fingers and step into that sort of thing!' said her inner voice. That made her relax a little. Until the scenario of him driving here with one of those monster cars and his incredible skill and perhaps a shortcut occurred to her. 'Relax, woman! He can not drag you away! This is the 21st century!' Yes but...there was nothing 21st century about Legolas. Especially not now. An even more dreadful thought was that he actually did not HAVE to be here in person. He could just make a few phone calls and Irulan would never find a ticket to anywhere on the planet and she would be forced to sit and wait for him to arrive to pick her up.

She hastily called Baeron's first number. No answer. She then realized that one of the numbers was his cell number and skipped the others to dial that one. It rang once. Twice. The third time, his voice appeared on the other end. "Adam speaking."

"Baeron, it's me," was her rather shaky statement.

He recognized her voice immediately. "Irulan! How wonderful to hear from you!" She did not answer and he sensed the reluctance right away. "Are you all right? What is the matter?" was his cautious question.

"I...no!" She massaged her face, now feeling everything crashing down on her. "I need your help," she whined almost pathetically.

"Of course," he said then with suppressed worry in his tone. "Where are you?"

"At the airport. I...I don't know what to do!" she said and to her utter horror began to cry.

"Are you injured? What is wrong?" This time he made no attempt to suppress his worry and the anxiety rang freely.

She took a deep, shaky breath, finally spotting the sales booth and beginning to walk towards it. "No...nothing like that. I just...I have to leave. Immediately."

"All right," he said, calming down a little. "Do you have money?"

"Yes, I do."

"Good. I would call to take care of it but it would take more time. Is there an immediate flight to France?"

She checked the boards but before she could complete the task, it was her turn at the booth and she ran up to the clerk, repeating the question. "No," she sniffed. "No more flights to France today."

"Where to in Europe is the earliest available plane?"

Another conversation with the woman. "There is one boarding now. To Madrid."

"Take it," he ordered. "I will meet you there as soon as possible."

She gave the woman her credit card and waited for the processing. "How will you meet me?"

"Go to the hotel Orfila. Give them my name - Adam Greymane. I will come in a matter of hours."

"Do you have my number?" she sniffed as she took her ticket and began to run towards the exit of her plane.

"I have it now. It's on my screen. Irulan...don't worry. Whatever it is, I'll fix it," was his determined statement.

"Thank you," she whispered before she turned off the phone and ran the last steps to deliver her ticket and passport.

It was the second grave mistake of the day – this time on her behalf. Unknown to her, her choice that seemed so natural and innocent at the moment, would become a turning point in the flow of the river that men call Fate. Irulan would float in the new direction she had chosen for herself, dragging the rest of the cast and the entire story with her into the mad dance of waves and foam.

***